#if i could drop it all....move away on my own... and still be okay....i would

[covenofagatha]

Do I wanna know? (Part 3)

Agatha and you have a talk about the future

Word count: 4k

Warnings: 69, oral, smut, angst (hopefully not as much), why would you ever talk about feelings/problems when you could just fuck instead

“What? What part?” you ask, your voice sounding unfamiliar to your own ears. “If it’s the City, it’s fine, that’s not far away, you could even stay here.” 

Agatha purses her lips. “It’s in Albany.” 

Your stomach drops. Two hours away by car on a good day, about four by train. Agatha has a pitiful look on her face and you want to scoff. 

Of course she’s feeling sorry for you. 

“Honey,” she starts, cool and calm as ever and it makes you fucking enraged. She reaches out to touch you again — why does she keep trying to do that? why doesn’t she realize that she isn’t going to fix anything? — but you shove her aside and scramble off the couch, beginning to pace with your head in your hands. 

Is this better than the affair? She still lied to you. She still didn’t tell you about it, she’s still looking to get out. “Why didn’t you say anything?” you demand, pausing to look at her. 

Her jaw tightens. “I didn’t — I didn’t want to before it got real. I wasn’t even sure I was going to go, but my friend reached out and it’s a really good opportunity. The company took me out to dinner last night as an informal interview and I ended up staying the night. I didn’t think you’d come here, I thought you were mad at me or something. Baby, I was really worried about you.” 

In any other situation, you’d feel touched by her concern, but it really just pisses you off even more. This isn’t about you. “I thought you were having an affair,” you say again and her face falls. 

“I would never—”

You don’t even want to hear it. “Look, don’t change the subject, okay? The point is, you did this huge thing without even telling me and now — what? You’re moving to New York?” 

Now she seems unable to meet your eyes, an uncharacteristic shyness radiating off her. “I haven’t even gotten the job yet.”

Your mind starts to whirl with the possibilities. “If you get it, are you going to take it?” 

There’s a thick silence that hangs over you two for a moment and you can see the vein in her forehead pulse as she thinks about it. But her hesitation is all the answer you need. 

“Okay,” you breathe. You don’t even know where your head is at — you’re so fucking mad, but you’re also so relieved that she isn’t cheating, but then now there’s this wrench that could possibly mean the end of things. You’re not going to let that happen. Dropping to your knees in front of her and finally touching her of your own accord with your palms flat on her legs, you earnestly look at her. “We can…we can figure it out, we will figure it out. I can come down on the weekends or you can come here or — I can transfer! I’ll transfer to somewhere in New York and we can get an apartment, just the two of us, and obviously I won’t be much help with the rent because it’s expensive as shit there—”

Agatha pulls you up by your cheeks and kisses you, effectively shutting you up. You lose yourself in the feeling of her lips against yours and you moan softly, everything slipping away for just a moment. In these five seconds, it’s just the two of you and nothing else can come between you. 

But then she breaks away and sighs heavily, resting her forehead against yours. “You just started school here,” she says gently. “I can’t make you give that up. Don’t you like it?”

You shrug lazily. “It’s the first week. I’m not too attached. I’m sure somewhere there will be just as good.” 

“What about your parents? What would you tell them?” 

Why does it feel like she doesn’t want you there? You can’t help the frown tugging on your lips. “I’ll just say that I don’t like it at Westview. I’m sure I can come up with something. They’ll just want me to be happy.” Agatha makes you happy, but there’s a flicker of doubt growing in your stomach.

She cups your cheek and leans back so you’re able to see her eyes. They’re blue as the ocean, full of emotion, and glassy. “Why don’t you give it a few months, hm? I don’t want you to throw away your school and your family just for me. If you really don’t like it, then we can talk.”

“What if I just drop out of school and become your trophy wife? I’ll be such a good one, I’d wear nothing but an apron all day and make your favorite foods and then I can sit on your strap while you eat dinner.” You play it off like a joke, but deep down, you would be more than willing. You hope she says yes. 

Agatha huffs out a laugh and sniffs, tracing a finger down the skin of your face like she’s trying to memorize it. “Wear a short little maid outfit that just happens to ride up and show off your bare cunt when you’re on your knees cleaning the floor?” 

You hum and close your eyes in pure bliss at the thought. “See, now you get it. It would be so perfect, right? 

“So perfect,” she agrees, but her smile lingers until it’s wistful. There’s a longing pang inside you, one that threatens to tear you open, but you push it down. “I know I haven’t gotten it yet, but I won’t take it,” she says quietly after a moment and your brows furrow in confusion. “If you don’t want me to take it, I won’t.” 

Every single morsel of your body is screaming for you to ask her to stay. It would be so easy, and then you could just pretend that none of this — the suspicion, the lies, the sneaking around — never happened. Everything could go back to the way it was before. 

But the slightest fear that she would start to resent you for it creeps into the back of your mind. Sure, she might not mind at first, but over time when her job here gets old and she’s unhappy, she’s going to blame you. She’s going to start to hate you for holding her back, and what if you’re not worth it? 

The last thought hits you like a punch to the gut. Are you enough to keep her content if she stays? Are you enough to keep her happy? 

You’re paralyzed and she’s looking at you expectantly, like it’s an easy fucking decision. You want to complain that it’s not fair for her to put this on you, that she should want to be with you so badly that she willingly gives up the new position for you, but maybe she’s having the same doubts.

The only thing you know is that you don’t want to end up like your parents, with a loveless marriage and a cold, empty house despite the family living in it and the bitter silence of words left unsaid haunting every moment. You don’t want this to become an open wound that festers until Agatha hates you for it. 

“If it’s a better job and if you want it, you should take it,” you say, almost surprised by how eerily calm your voice sounds. 

Agatha looks taken aback for just the slightest moment but nods. “You’re sure?” 

No! Stay with me! I fucking love you! 

“Yeah,” you rasp and she bends down to kiss you again, so sweetly that it hurts. She murmurs something against your lips but you don’t even think to ask what she says because you can’t stop the nausea climbing up your throat. 

You jump back and run to the bathroom before vomiting in the toilet. You sink to the floor, shaking and sweating and trembling, and you’re vaguely aware of Agatha’s hands in your hair, holding it back, and telling you that everything is going to be alright. Is it?

She gets a wet washcloth and holds it against your head while you don’t move from your position, waiting to see if you have to puke again. 

“Had too much to drink last night,” you mutter, feeling like you’re drunk all over again, when she asks if you’re feeling okay. “Thought you were cheating.”  

You hear a heavy sigh behind you and tears prick your eyes. Is she disappointed? Does she think you’re being just a stupid kid? “I wouldn’t, honey. I wouldn’t do that. I promise. I—” She stops and strokes your hair instead.

It feels like there’s something she’s not saying, but maybe you’re just reading into it. 

And then there’s your I love you while she was fucking you, still fresh in your mind. Do you say it again? Do you ask if she heard it? Or just wait until she says it first?

If she does. You can’t get these stupid insecurities and doubts out of your mind and it’s killing you. 

“Do you feel like you’re going to throw up again?” she asks gently and you shake your head. “Come on, why don’t we get you into the shower and then into bed?”

You want to protest just to be petulant, but you’re just so fucking tired. “Okay, mommy,” you say and she sharply inhales, but pretends to be unaffected. Good to know that you can still get to her after you look like you’ve just been through hell. 

She turns the water on and you numbly wait until she guides you up and helps you undress before you step into the shower. You almost buckle to the ground but Agatha holds you up, the sleeves of her blazer getting soaked, but she doesn’t even notice it. 

It’s an awkward position, her on the outside of the tub and you barely standing up inside it, but she rubs your skin and you slowly feel warmth returning to your body. 

You’re about to ask if she’ll get in with you — you see the way she can’t stop looking at your tits and you’re suddenly longing to feel her on you, a reminder that she is yours — when a phone rings. 

Definitely not yours; your phone is always on silent. 

Agatha curses and tells you she’ll be right back before disappearing from the bathroom. The cold feeling starts to grow back in your stomach, creeping up to your throat and gripping tightly. 

“Yes — this is she!” you hear her say from the other room, her voice getting louder as she comes back into the bathroom. You look at her with wide eyes and she gives you a tight smile. “Oh, I did? Well, thank you very much, that is wonderful news.”

The person on the other line starts talking and you can only catch quick muffles of it, but from Agatha’s face, you already know. 

“Of course, yes, hang on just one second,” she says and presses her phone against her shoulder to give you her full attention. Eye contact with her feels like a stab to the gut. “Honey, are you sure you’re okay with this? You can say no.” 

Can you? 

It’s on the tip of your tongue — it would be so easy to ask her to turn it down, so easy to ask her to choose you. She’s waiting for an answer but each drop of water on your skin feels like a chant: no. no. no. You know Agatha’s trying to remain neutral, but you can tell she wants the job, by the way she’s twitching her fingers and the barely concealed pleading look on her face and the way she’s holding her phone so tightly it’s making her veins pop out all bluish and purplish. 

It’s clear that you cannot say no. 

You’re not sure she would ever forgive you, and you’re not sure you would ever forgive yourself. You can’t ask her to throw away this opportunity, not for you. 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you say hoarsely, feeling a lot like you just signed a death warrant. 

But plenty of people do long distance, and two hours really isn’t that bad. Plus it just means that with all the waiting, the sex will be even hotter. Her moving away doesn’t mean anything. 

And you can transfer at the end of the semester, so really you just have to make it a few months. 

Agatha’s beam is one of pure gratitude and you know you made the right choice, but she’s back to talking on the phone and your little moment is interrupted. “Oh…two weeks? Of course, I can totally do that.” 

A flash of panic bolts through you and you mouth two weeks? at her. She purses her lips and shrugs apologetically, like that’s supposed to make you feel better. 

The rest of her phone call is blurred out by your sudden inability to hear anything but the rush of the water that has suddenly become so loud it’s taken over all your thoughts and you don’t even realize that she’s hung up and cleaned you off and gotten you out of the shower until you’re shivering and naked and Agatha’s wrapping a towel around you. 

“Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay,” she murmurs because you’re now uncontrollably shaking and you think you might be crying a little. “Everything’s going to be okay.” She presses kisses to your forehead and cheeks and nose, muttering the same sort of sentients, while the towel around you slips to the floor when you throw your arms around her and cling to her like she’s your lifeline, like she’s everything you’ll ever need, and she holds you back so tightly you think you might fuse into one being. 

The two of you stand there like that until your skin gets clammy and pruney and your eyes are raw. When you finally pull back, your muscles ache and the front of Agatha’s clothes are absolutely soaked, so you tug on them until she gets the message and begins to strip. 

Her blazer comes off, and then she untucks her blouse from her pants and slowly begins to unbutton it, each time revealing more of her perfect pale skin. You can see the faint outlines of her ribs and then her stomach, the red bites from two days ago still there, albeit faded. 

There’s no mistaking the “M” though. A hot thrill runs through you despite the solemn air between you and a fire starts to flicker to life in your stomach. You reach out to trace your mark as if in a trance and Agatha’s breath hitches. 

Swallowing roughly, your eyes dart up to meet her already-dark ones. “We should talk about the job, right? Figure out what it means for us?” you ask, but even as the words leave your mouth, you can feel the atmosphere shift into something else. 

“Right,” Agatha nods, but she can’t stop looking down at your pebbled nipples — from the cold or from her? 

When she surges forward, clasps your cheeks, and pulls your mouth to hers, you know that it’s both. The kiss is messy, teeth knocking against each other and her tongue invading your mouth and breathing each other’s air, and you wrap your arms around her neck to bring her even closer. She didn’t get to take her pants off yet, but it feels absolutely delicious when she slides a thigh between yours and you grind down onto it. Your nipples brush against the fabric of her bra and you can’t help but moan into her open mouth. 

Fire roars beneath your skin, spreading to all over your body, and you suddenly just need more. You need her to overwhelm all your senses until you can’t fucking think about anything else, not the job, not her moving, not the fact that you could’ve stopped this but didn’t — you just want her. 

She grabs onto your hip to guide you against her leg and you whine as she sucks on your tongue. Her other hand comes up to cup your right breast and roll your nipple and you mewl and jerk against her. She tugs and it feels directly connected to your cunt because you pulse and it only gets worse when she flexes her thigh underneath you. 

“Bed — bedroom, please,” you choke out and her mouth doesn’t leave yours, walking you backwards into the bedroom and not stopping until the backs of your knees hit the bed. 

Agatha pushes you down onto it, the duvet beneath you instantly getting wet from your dripping pussy, and she shimmies off her pants and underwear and sinks to her knees in front of you. It’s a sight to behold, her looking up at you from the floor like she wants to devour you, like she would hang the stars and the sun in the sky for you and it still wouldn’t be enough. The power running through you from the heat in her eyes and the ragged heaving of her red chest and the way she tosses her hair over her shoulder is enough to drive you mad. 

“You’re so perfect,” she breathes and it only makes you wetter. You buck your hips against the bed, trying to get some stimulation to your now-aching clit, but it’s not even close to enough. 

But it’s not even five seconds later when she leans in, inhales the scent of you deeply, and then drags her flattened tongue through your folds, making you keen and arch your back. She is so good with her mouth and she never fails to remind you. 

“Fuck, Agatha,” you gasp, and you usually don’t call her by her name during sex, normally opting for mommy, but you need the intimacy right now. You need to feel like this is real. 

She groans into you and teases her tongue around your clit, never quite touching it, and you bury your fingers in her hair and gently pull on it. Her eyes flick up to yours as a warning and you loosen your grip. Agatha gives you an almost imperceptible nod and rewards you with one long lick to your clit and your head falls back. 

You can no longer hold yourself up when she thrusts her tongue inside you, and you fall back onto the bed, instantly clenching around you. She feels so fucking good, her tongue curling inside your cunt and her nose brushing against your clit, and you angle a leg up on the bed so she can reach deeper inside you. “God, yes,” you sigh, and your orgasm is slowly starting to build up with each roll of your hips and each time your stomach tightens. 

But something is missing — you can’t help your thoughts from straying and you just need more. 

So you stop her and she looks up at you, the entire bottom half of her face and nose absolutely covered with you. Your clit throbs and you sit up.

“I need — I want — wanna taste you too, Aggie,” you whine and you’ve never used that nickname before, but you think she likes it because she lunges up, capturing your lips with hers again, and knocking you straight back onto the bed. 

She nods while still kissing you, whispering, “Fuck, honey, how are you so hot? How are you so perfect for me?” 

You clench around nothing and you claw at her shoulder blades frantically, knowing what you need but not how to ask for it. 

But Agatha knows — she always knows what you want, except for when it really counts apparently. She gets off of you and scooches on her knees until she’s situated behind your head, facing your body. And then she moves to frame your face with her thighs, her glistening cunt hovering right above your face, and she bends over to pry your legs open before leaning down and sucking on your clit roughly. 

You squirm and palm her ass to pull her down to your mouth, and at your first lick through her folds, she moans right into you, the vibrations making you jump. Eating her out while also being eaten out is an experience like no other you’ve ever had. Every single thing you do to her affects her, which in turn, affects you. 

The positive feedback loop has both of you sloppily mouthing at each other’s cunts, mimicking motions while also losing all sense of rhythm, and when she digs her fingernails into your thighs and scrapes her teeth against your clit, you let out a high-pitched sound that has her riding your face furiously. 

Agatha is getting louder too — you can feel it more than hear it, and you are completely drunk on her smell and her taste and how good she’s making you feel. You dip your tongue into her entrance, stroking against her convulsing walls before swirling around her clit and she pauses what she’s doing for a moment to just breathe heavily against your pussy before diving back in. 

All thoughts of anything else are completely out of your foggy mind and you feel like you’re floating, not able to focus on anything else besides Agatha. 

If you would’ve known that your dad having an affair would have led to you having the hottest sex with the hottest woman ever, you definitely wouldn’t have been so mad about it. 

“Oh, god, baby, you’re so good,” she says into your cunt and it only makes you grind up harder. She matches your intensity, riding your face fast, her clit dragging against your tongue. You groan in agreement and her stomach glides against your nipples while hers do the same and you know that it won’t be long before either of you cum. 

She nips at your inner thigh before plunging her tongue inside you and it has your hips bucking. “Fuck — Agatha,” you cry, barely able to keep eating her out because of how stimulated you are. Pleasure is racing through every ridge of your body and your head is spinning. 

“That’s right, honey,” she pants, lathering her tongue all over your clit. “Cum for me.” 

The tension inside you snaps and you cum, riding out the immense wave as she continues lapping at you and you suck on her clit, triggering her own orgasm. There’s a gush of wetness all over your face and she keeps rolling her hips, chasing the last tendrils. 

That was one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had, you think, and when Agatha flops down onto the bed next to you, breathing heavily, you think she might agree. 

“Fuck,” you say, completely wiped out, and Agatha chuckles weakly in response, reaching a hand out to rest her fingers against yours, not quite interlocking them. The two of you lay like that for what feels like forever, just soaking in the silence and the comfort of being right next to each other. 

You’re not sure who moves first — maybe it’s a mutual decision, but eventually you slide up to the pillows and Agatha turns around and moves next to you. Rotating onto your side, you hear the sheets rustle behind you and right on cue, Agatha’s arm snakes around you, holding you close enough to her that you can feel her heartbeat against your back and her breath on your neck. 

She kisses the top of your ear and you snuggle back against her. You know that you should put on clothes and clean up your mess, but for right now, you just need to feel her against you. 

“We’re going to be okay?” you ask timidly. It seems like it was so long ago that you were spiraling out of control because you thought she was cheating. 

Agatha’s arm tightens around yours. “We’re going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay.” 

And you think you might actually believe her. 

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @n3bula-cats @vyvvycg

[bettystonewell]

So I woke up to 100 followers this morning, and I was really surprised.

THANK YOU!

I’m still learning my way here, but hopefully I’m getting better.

I know people on all different platforms do celebrations like writing prompts and stuff, but a) I’m a slow writer and b) I’m lazy. So I thought, now might be a good time to release this:

TO YOU I BELONG

SNEAK PEAK

Chapter 1 coming 21/02 🇦🇺⏱️

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

From Chapter 7: Honeydaying

Sitting on the edge of his bed, hunched over, arms leaning on his thighs, Dean twisted the small pill bottle in his hands, listening as each tablet fell to the bottom. There weren’t many, six at most, and they rattled around in there, waiting for him to open the lid and take one out.

Or man up and throw them in the trash like he’d planned.

The problem was, he knew how his body would react to not taking the daily suppressant. He’d experienced it before. And if his inner alpha was overprotective of you now, it was about to turn into a possessive dick the second the drug’s effects wore off in T minus twenty-four hours, if he…

No.

Not if.

He was doing this. He was gonna claim you and make you his.

Which is why even though the trashcan was only three feet in front of him, he still sat there unmoving from the memory-foam cushioning his ass…

Fuck. Why was this so hard?

He put the pills down on his bedside table and leant back into the mattress, fishing his phone out from his jean pocket. The denim hugging his hips was too tight, and he had to lift himself up a few inches to yank the device free, unlocking it with a couple of taps and a swipe up.

His fingers continued to work the touch screen, locating contacts, flicking down to the letter J, and hitting the green call button. At least there was one thing he wasn’t hesitating over.

He heard the click and a familiar voice fondly speak his name before he’d even brought it up to his ear.

“Dean Winchester.”

“Hey, Jody. How’s it going?” Dean stood up off the bed and moved to the closet.

“Good. Although I’m a little surprised to hear you ask me that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The door creaked in protest, as did his back, though it cracked more than creaked when he arched over to reach his green duffle he’d thrown on the floor after the hunt in Iowa. The couple of weapons he hadn’t bothered to put away hit against each other as the bag swayed and gravity played with their weight.

“Just that you don’t call me unless you need something or someone’s dead. Oh god. Is Sam okay? What have you boys gotten into now?”

“Alright, first off, that’s insulting.” He emptied the contents onto the bed, pulling out a shirt that had wound its way around his shotgun. “And second.” He brought the fabric up to his nose for a sniff test. It needed washing, or burning with added salt. The remnants of nameless monster guts clung to the collar, and he didn’t hesitate to throw it out. Those pills though... “Everything’s fine. Sammy’s alive last time I checked.

“I wanted to know how you were. What’s wrong with that?” He caught the phone between his neck and shoulder, freeing his hands up to open the chamber of his prized weapon. The racking was rather loud when he closed it back again, and he grimaced. Jody was going to notice that.

“Nothing,” she said. “But that’s not why you’re calling.”

Why did he attract people who could see right through him? “Well, ah, to be honest, I need a favour.” He took a long breath in, preparing himself to deliver his news. “I met my soulmate and—”

“What?” Her high-pitched squeal had him dropping his shoulder and her. “Are you sure?”

Seriously! It’s like she was trying to cut him deep. “What do you mean, am I sure? I know my own damn initials,” he shouted down at his phone. Luckily, it had only landed on the bed. He did not have the patience or time to get a new one.

He ditched the shotgun and picked up Jody, bringing her back to his ear.

“So you’re no longer running solo, huh? Finally claimed someone! What are they? An omega, a beta? Or another alpha like you?” She chuckled. “I’d love to see that.”

‘Bitch.’

‘Dude. This is Jody.’

‘She’s insulting our mate.’

‘No, she’s insulting you, you dick.’

“Ah, an omega, and I haven’t claimed her yet,” Dean said, cringing when his inner alpha interrupted him again. His eyes searched for the pill bottle and gave it a once over. No, no. This was gonna be hell, but he’d grin and bear it. “That’s why I was calling—”

Main Masterlist

—————————————————————

DEAN TAGLIST:

@globetrotter28 @ambiguous-avery @arcannaa @jollyhunter @zepskies

@reluctanthalfwayoptimism @supernotnatural2005 @jackles010378 @kaz-2y5-spn @applelovesposts

@jaydensluv @foxyjwls007

If you’d like to be added to a Taglist for this series or for any of my other Dean works, please lmk or add yourself HERE

[odoraful]

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄.ᐟ

what happens when you don't use their pet name to call them?

⟡ content: zayne/sylus/xavier/rafayel x gn!reader; more dialogue heavy; silly and cute

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

ZAYNE ⟡

“Can you help me put this on, Zayne?”

From the reflection in the mirror, you tried not to react at the twist in his brow and the momentary confusion in his eyes. Wordlessly, he moved behind you, fingers taking the necklace out of your hand. With his gaze focused on the task before him, you could see him open his mouth, hesitating to speak.

“Did I do something wrong?” he questioned.

Zayne’s deft hands carefully laid the chain around your neck, centering the pendent between your collarbones.

You plastered on your most innocent expression, despite the twinge of guilt you felt at his question.

“Hm? Why do you ask?”

Swiftly, he clasped the ends of the chain together. His eyes flicked towards yours in the mirror.

“You’re calling me by my first name. I thought pet names were an important step in a relationship for you.”

You nodded. “Yes, Zayne, I do think it’s an important step.”

His eyes narrowed at your continual uncharacteristic responses.

Folding his arms, he mused aloud. “It took you some time to drop the title ‘doctor’ for me and to just use my name. After we became official, you were quick to call me ‘love’.”

You fiddled with your necklace, trying to, impossibly, force away the heat from your face.

“So, either I did something to make you upset, or”—he leaned in close to you, the side of his face almost touching yours—“you’re playing a trick on me.”

You gave a mock frown. He cocked his head to the side, awaiting your response.

“Okay, okay, it was a prank.” Sighing, you surrendered to his deductions. “I wanted to see how you’d react, but you saw right through me,” you mumbled.

His lips quirked. “I’ve known you for long enough to figure these things out.”

Wanting to wipe off the amused look he had on his face, you quickly planted a kiss on his cheek. His face turned into surprise. He chuckled, shaking his head at your triumphant smile.

“Thank you for helping me, my love."

SYLUS ⟡

“Sylus, could you play that new record you bought?”

You called from the sofa. Standing by the record player, he turned to face you. The offence on his face was unmistakable as he placed his hands on his hips.

“Sylus?” he scoffed. “We both know that’s not what you call me.”

Your brows furrowed, feigning confusion. “What are you talking about? Isn’t that your name?”

“Sweetie,” he levelled a look of scepticism at you, “that hasn’t been my name for the past month we’ve been together.”

“I still don’t know what you mean, Sylus.”

He paused. Gears turned in his head trying to unpack what was happening, much like he would do when reading the truthfulness of a dealer during a bargain.

“Y/N.”

You’ve never heard your own name being said in such a serious manner. Perhaps you got a taste of your own medicine.

“I’m not particularly fond of lose-lose situations.” The softness in his tone made you feel weak. “You can tell me if I’ve done something to annoy you. I won’t be angry.”

“Not at all!” you quickly blurted out. Unable to hide it any longer, you confessed. “You haven’t done anything to annoy me. I was just trying to pull a small prank.”

All the tension visibly released from his body. A relieved sigh escaped him. “You really do play some dangerous games, kitten.”

Playfulness returned to his voice. “Now then, how will you correct your mistake?”

“Honey,” you drawled out each syllable, making it sound as syrupy as the nickname itself, “could you play that new record you bought now?”

Sylus couldn’t help but laugh at your exaggeration. “Why of course.”

XAVIER ⟡

“Xavier, do you want to try this?”

Subtly glancing at his reaction from the kitchen, you saw his face immediately fall into a pout. The look was fatal, and it took all the willpower you had not to drop the ruse right then and there.

“That’s not my name,” he answered.

“What do you mean?” you chuckled, continuing to put icing on the sugar cookies you baked. “Of course it is!”

“No, it’s not,” he insisted.

Placing his book down, he walked to stand at your side by the counter. You avoided his eye contact, pretending that nothing was amiss.

Resting a hand under his chin, he began to think. “You usually call me bunny, sweetheart, sunshine, or darling.”

Your jaw dropped in amused shock. “You remember all the names I’ve called you?”

His mouth twitches. “There are some more, but… they might be a bit embarrassing to say aloud right now.”

That was enough to make you look at him with wide eyes.

“Xavier!” Your face turned pink as you slapped his shoulder. There was no force behind the hit, but enough to convey your embarrassment.

“You did it again. You used the wrong name.” He stuck his bottom lip out.

You gently poked at his cheek, trying to lift the corner of his lip upwards. “Come on, don’t be sad darling.”

Immediately, he brightened before you.

“It was just a joke I saw couples do online. I wanted to see how you’d react.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “And was my reaction satisfactory?”

“I think it was,” you smiled at him, "but it’s a shame I didn’t film it, it would’ve made for a good Moments post.”

He shook his head. “But, the nicknames we use are only for us.”

The finished cookie in your hand had a bite suddenly taken from it as Xavier leaned down to have a taste.

“I don’t want anyone else to know.”

RAFAYEL ⟡

“Are you ready to go yet, Rafayel?”

He continued to hum to himself, completely ignoring you. You folded your arms as you watched him busy himself with something trivial. He flung open a random cupboard and inspected what appeared to be an assortment of spare art supplies.

“Rafayel,” you called again.

He then turned his attention to the fishbowl in the centre of the room, where a small orange fish darted around.

“Reddie, do you hear something?” he asked, gazing so earnestly into the bowl. This fish paused its movement and stared back at his owner.

“Rafayel~” you sang his name aloud this time, extending the last syllable.

He gasped, apparently receiving some confirmation from Reddie.

“You hear something too? Thank god. I was thinking there must be something wrong with my ears.”

Surveying the room around him, Rafayel intentionally looked past you standing barely a few metres from him, tapping your foot against the wooden floorboards of his studio.

“It sounds like”—he continued—“some kind of voice. Someone familiar to me, but I can’t make out who it is.”

“Rafayel!” you shouted his name between fits of laughter. Only he could respond to your jokes with his own dramatics.

He sucked in a breath in puzzlement. “I wonder who this person is calling out to.”

“Baby,” you finally conceded, “I’m talking to you!”

It seemed like he couldn’t keep up the act either, as he started laughing with you.

“Took you long enough,” he huffed, moving towards you and linking your arm with his. “Otherwise, Reddie and I would have been searching for this phantom voice for the rest of the day.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[rafespreciosa]

getting chris' initials tatted on your hip....

ೀ ‧₊˚

chris' movements were hasty, his hands groping, squeezing, and massaging every dip and curve of your body as you sat straddled atop his lap, thighs squeezing his hips as your lips moved against his. "missed this," he breathed, one hand slipping up to grip your chin, tugging your mouth open wider for him as he slid his tongue between your swollen lips.

a muffled moan escapes you at the warm muscle sliding against yours, the taste of the weed the two of you had been smoking still lingering on his breath. sliding your hand up his chest and around the back of his neck, a shiver ran through him at the feeling of your nails grazing his skin. he let out a low groan against your mouth before breaking away.

chris' lips left a trail of hot, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down your throat and collarbone, his teeth gently nipping your skin every now again, forcing a breathless whimper or whine to escape you. "feels.. feels like i ain't' had'ya in forever,"

his words sent a pang of guilt through you, knowing he was right — for the past week, every time he'd made a move, you would be quick to shut it down, always muttering out some half-assed excuse on why he couldn't have you and it wasn't because you didn't want him, that was the furthest thing from the truth. it was because you had something for him.

a surprise, one that you wanted to be fully healed before it was revealed to your boyfriend. a tattoo of his initials. chris had always known you to be spontaneous, so you coming home with new tattoos and showing him right off the bat was never anything new for him, but despite that, despite how excited and supportive he always was, this was different, this was his name, permanently inked on your skin — the reveal had to be as special as the meaning.

you were snapped out of your daydream as he tugged at the hem of your shirt, the action breaking the spell of lust and desire as you pull back, "no," you whisper, hand gently pressing on his chest to push him to sit back against the leather seats, "babe—" he began, but you were already turning around to lower the volume on his cars' radio.

but right as your fingers touched the dial, his hand shot out, his own fingers wrapping around your wrist as he tugged at it to get your attention, "chris," you gasp, turning back to face him, a new excuse already on the tip of your tongue, ready to be spoken but before you could, he cut in, "okay—" he huffed, hands dropping down to his sides, "what's goin' on with you?"

his question made your eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up slightly in surprise. "what do you mean?" you asked, attempting to keep your voice steady despite the sudden anxiety bubbling in your stomach, "nuh-uh.. don't, don't do that shit—" he cut in once more.

"don't do wha-" your sentence was once again cut short by his hand reaching up to grip your face, his fingertips pressing in to your cheeks, squeezing them gently, eliciting a soft squeak from you, "that," he uttered, "that 'what do you mean' bullshit,"

you had to bite back the urge to grin as he mocked you, focusing on the furrow in his brows to keep your facial expressions neutral, even if you were feeling amused by his quick-growing frustration. "baby.." you murmured, pulling his hand from your face.

"you've been blowing me off all week—that ain't like you, i would know," he huffed, and you raised a brow, a small smirk stretching across your lips, "huh?" you coo, the innocent tone of your voice making him groan, "you.. you've been jumping my bones anytime you could since we met,"

he brought his hands back down to your hips, thumbs rubbing the sliver of skin peeking out between the hem of your shirt and the waistband of your his sweatpants. "so, what's goin' on? huh? there someone else?" he questioned, his tone laced with annoyance but also a twinge of anxiety, "y'not feeling this anymore? what is it?"

you couldn't help but chuckle, the sound catching him off guard, blue eyes widening in surprise and confusion, "wha--what, why are you laughin'?" he asked, so focused on your continuous giggles he doesn't notice your hands tugging at the strings of your sweats, loosening them. "what's so funny?"

"come on, mama.." he finally sighed, "just tell me the truth, m'not gonna be mad if you're not happ—" now it was his turn for his sentence to be cut short as you reached your hand up, mirroring his actions from a few moments prior as you grip his face in your hand, fingers pressing in to his cheeks.

chris let out a surprised gasp, his mouth falling open to question you but before he could, you tilt his head down, forcing his eyes to land on the tattoo — his initials c.s. inked in dainty script lettering against your skin. "holy.. fuck," he whispers, a shaky breath leaving him as your hand releases his face. "you, that—what," he stammers, mouth opening and closing as he hesitantly reaches his fingers to trace over it.

"that's why i've made you wait," you say, leaning back slightly to give him a better view of the new art work, "s'not because i'm not feeling you or us anymore—just wanted it to heal before showin' you," chris looked up, eyes dark as a smirk slowly spread across his kiss-swollen lips, "and is it?"

raising a brow, a small laugh escapes you, "what—" his hands gripped your hips against, tugging you forward until your face hovered over his, "the tat, is it healed," his voice was deep, the lowest you've ever heard and it made your eyes widen, "yeah," the word had barely left you before his lips crashed against yours, his hands already working on tugging down your sweats, "good—"

"can't wait to see how it'll look covered in my cum,"

RAFESPRECIOSA © 2025 .

tags 🏷️ @secretlocket @deansbeer @et6rnalsun @isnyv @cupiidk1lls @freshloveee @starzify @chrissturnsfav @inspiredangel @mattsbrowser @chrissweetheart @mattscoatedcock @chrisissobabygirl @gabsisstar @morgan-getty

[oceantornadoo]

bad day (simon riley x reader, best friends to lovers)

honestly, you should have seen it coming. staying in a safe house with four men who have never ending stomachs? but today, it was the last straw.

“you ate my last cookie?”

soap’s face dropped, jaw open. your voice was on the verge of breaking, tears forming in your eyes. you never showed this much vulnerability in front of the team, and he was flabbergasted. he shot a look at gaz, who was equally as confused. “‘m sorry, bonnie, i didnae ken-“ you pushed your hands on the table, shoving your chair back and out. “it’s ok. gonna take a nap.” you were wiping your eyes furiously, feeling unstable. first you got your period four days early (asking price to add pads to the shopping list was something you never wanted to experience again), then you couldn’t find your heating pad, and now your cookies were out? maybe it was the hormones, but you were done.

“oof.” you had ran into a thick wall. scratch that, the wall was moving. your vision was blurred by tears you refused to shed that you didn’t even realize it was your closest friend ghost. “dove?” you hiccuped. why did he always have to be so nice to you? gruff and mean-sounding to everyone else, but an avid listener and sweet talker when it came to you. “jus’ trying to get to my room, didn’t see you. sorry l.t..” you tried to maneuver around him, but unfortunately a 6’4 machine of a man did not move easily.

“why you cryin’, baby?” shit, simon did not mean to call you that. he did not want to have this conversation right now, especially when you looked like you were about to break down. you were always so strong, having to work ten times harder as a woman in the military, and he was always careful to not undermine you or your struggles. unfortunately, that landed him firmly in the friendzone for the past year, unable to confess his feelings without breaking your trust. he maneuvered you to the closest room, which happened to be his. he sat down on the bed, intending to sit you down next to him, but instead you still stood, walking in between his parted legs.

“‘m sorry, just on my period and everything hurts and it’s all hitting at once.” your eyes were red, avoiding his. he could see you were in pain, and as someone who had endured enemy torture and the hardest forms of training, his heart never hurt as much as it did now. he reached a gloved hand towards your face, brushing away your tears. his other hand came to your lower belly, rubbing circles over your clothes. “shhh, ‘s okay. you wanna sit down?” you shook your head in disagreement. you felt like a child, but you were never allowed to be weak outside of your own room. for some reason today, you let simon riley see you weak.

you walked around his body and laid on top of his covers, curling into a fetal position. he let you get comfy, finding a way to lay down that lessened your cramps. finally, you were done moving. “si?” you never called him that unless you absolutely needed him. he got up and locked the door, not wanting to disturb your peace. “yeah, baby?” might as well use it now, you hadn’t complained. if anything your face softened when he said it, and simon riley would die a thousand deaths just to see a moment of relief on your face. “will you lay with me?”

he eagerly stripped out of his gear, climbing on top of his bed to lay down with you. he placed a hand on your arm, letting you choose where you wanted him. you dragged his hand under your sweatshirt, using it like a heating pad for your cramps. you let out a soft moan of pleasure and he answered it with a low growl, pulling you into him by the stomach. his thumb caressed your bare skin with small circles, memorizing every dip and valley. he strived to commit the moment to memory, not knowing if you’d ever be this vulnerable again. “feel better, dove?” you nodded, finally succumbing to sleep that had evaded you the past night. he smiled under his mask, placing a small kiss to the back of your head.

finally you were at peace, and all because of him.

[bianquitasunderworld]

dave lizewski smut plsss i love nerdy dick 😭😭🙏

Parings: Dave Lizewski x Reader

Warnings: Smut

A/N: I love nerdy dick too twin, you so real for this omg😭‼️ (omg y’all i didn’t expect myself to make this kind of romantic sorry y’all i’ll write something crazy next time, this is long as hell ‼️)

How did this happen? How did Dave end up with the woman he thought was the hottest girl on earth, on top of him straddling his hips?

It all started when Dave decided to invite his girlfriend over to study. She definitely did not want to study—how could she, when all she could think about was how hot he looked while he rambled on about some silly, boring, and excessively long economic questions for class.

Truth be told, she didn’t care much about anything he was saying at the moment. Although that might sound rude, she didn’t care one bit. Her boyfriend sat at the edge of his bed, rambling, and he looked absolutely perfect. His glasses were set perfectly in place on his face, and the way the tip of his tongue stuck out as he delved deep into thought about his stupid economics homework—how could she possibly focus?

Dave was completely oblivious to her ogling. He wasn’t aware that she was practically salivating just from looking at him, he was oblivious to all the impure thoughts running through his girlfriends head, he was so focused on finishing his assignments he didn’t realize just how needy his girlfriend was.

Although Dave and you were in a very serious relationship you’ve never discussed sex it was uncharted territory for both of you. Dave was too shy and embarrassed because he was still a virgin it was a sensitive topic for him. Everyone is aware he isn’t the most popular guy at school.

You on the other hand were scared you’d send him running for the hills if you tried to suggest sex, It’s not like you both never did anything well…the furthest you’ve gotten with each other was making out and grinding against each other, and the ending result was always the same: Dave blushing, covering his lap with a pillow while he sat at his desk chair, and diverting into discussions about random comics and superhero references as if you didn’t just have your tongue in his mouth.

You kept eyeing Dave and biting your lip the thoughts running through your head were pure sin, you were convinced if Dave knew about them he would be a stuttering and blushing disaster. You didn’t think your staring was obvious until Dave suddenly redirected his attention from his five-minute monologue about consumerism, catching you in the act.

He looked back at you from his spot on the bed as he cleared his throat and spoke softly. “Are you okay? Is um something wrong?” God he was so sweet and caring he was oblivious to the fact that all you wanted to do was have him whimpering and groaning beneath you, your desires were consuming your mind. You always wondered what he would sound like when he was overwhelmed with pleasure. You’d caught a glimpse of it once, and since then, your thirst for more was like that of a desert traveler yearning for a drop of water.

“Yeah-Mhm everything’s fine sorry my mind was somewhere else for a second” you smiled at him trying to sound as if you weren’t seconds away from jumping on him. He smiled and adjusted his glasses before he nodded and turned his attention back to his paper.

You couldn’t stand it the last straw was when he bit his bottom lip in concentration you couldn’t stop yourself you swiped his paper off the table, the rustling sound breaking the spell between you. You set it down with a bit more force than intended, a bold move that marked your intentions.

Leaning in, you placed a hand on his cheek and pressed your lips to his, a surge of unspoken desires finally finding expression. His initial surprise melted away, replaced by a hunger that mirrored your own. In that stolen kiss, the air crackled with a mix of passion and anticipation, as if the world outside had faded, leaving just the two of you suspended in that breathtaking moment.

And there it was, the culmination of all those unspoken desires, manifesting in the reality of the moment. Dave found himself reclined against the headboard, a sensation of both exhilaration and disbelief coursing through him. You straddled him, your legs encasing his body, intimacy that had been a distant fantasy until now. His glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, which had turned a deep shade of crimson. The flush of his cheeks mirrored the intensity of the moment, a testament to the shared vulnerability and passion.

Your gaze trailed down, drinking in the sight of his bare chest pressed against you, the rhythmic rise and fall of his breath a captivating dance. The tousled strands of his hair cradled his head against the pillow like a crown, accentuating his allure.

His eyes held a mix of emotions as they lingered on your chest, a blend of curiosity and desire. The gravity of the moment weighed on the air, punctuated by his words, “Are you sure about this?” Your fingers, tender as a whisper, glided across his cheek, a gesture of reassurance and care. Leaning down, you captured his lips in a soft, lingering kiss, your intention clear—to grant him the choice to halt if his comfort wavered.

You sought to convey through touch what words might not fully express. His gaze held yours, a reservoir of affection and trust that spoke volumes. With a glance saturated in love, he nodded, affirming his readiness to explore uncharted realms with you.

He looked down between both your bodies, you were hovering over him, he bit his lip. Dave whined out a small, broken “please.” You closed your eyes savoring the way he spoken his plead was music to your ears.

You slowly sank down on to him, your mouth let out a small gasp at the feeling as he let out a deep groan, he felt the way you clamped down against him, the way he stretched you open had you groaning. You leaned down to kiss him gently, and gave yourselves time to adjust to the new sensation. Dave was girthy and long, he was bigger than anyone you’ve ever had, this felt different from all the times you’ve had sex this, this was love. You could feel the love radiating off of him as he kissed you and groaned into the passionate kiss.

Once you both adjusted, Dave gripped your hips and bucked his hips into you, his thrust were slow and deep, the noises of skin against each other and pleasurable moans filled the room. “Y-you’re so beautiful” Dave muttered and he looked into your eyes. “You’re so pretty davie” You couldn’t help but cry out as you reached down to play with yourself rubbing small gentle circles on your clit and slowly grinding down against him.

He whimpered and you felt his arms wrap around you, holding you in place. You could feel the tension in his body, the excitement building as he felt you against his body. You leaned down to kiss him gently, your lips meeting his in a gentle, tender embrace. You were addicted to the feeling of him inside you, the way he held you, the way he moaned your name. The pressure was building and you knew that you were about to cum you were trying to hold off trying to make this last for as long as you could. “Dave-I’m gonna cum--“ You cried out.

“I-f-fuck” Dave stuttered out as he felt you squeeze around him as you reached your climax, your body shaking with the intensity of the orgasm. Dave was groaning deep in his throat, his hips moving up and down as he came as well. You felt like you were one, a single unit, moving together in a synchronized dance of pleasure as he came deep in you.

Dave whimpered as you rode out your high against him, he felt himself growing overstimulated, he reached for your hips and kept a firm hold on you to keep you from moving, his body was shaking and sweat dripped from his forehead.

“I love you,” you murmured, your voice laced with affection.

“I love you too, baby,” Dave replied, a tender smile on his lips. With a gentle motion, he lifted himself and drew you in for a sweet, lingering kiss.

Releasing yourself from the embrace, you let out a soft sigh of contentment as you reclined against the bed, Dave at your side. He seemed to shift, a hint of nervousness tainting his usual bashful demeanor. “So, uh, how did I do? Was it okay?” His cheeks flushed a shade of crimson that rivaled a tomato’s hue.

“You were amazing.”

[hatsbuckets]

TF 141 x Reader - Shower Hide Out

Short Version: You're a member of 141. Mission's over. The boys come hide while you're taking a shower. (Hide? Hide from what?)

WC: ~1300

Pairings: (implied) TF141 x (afab) reader | teensy weensy Ghost x Soap

Warnings: none? (nudity ig, but nobody does or sees anything,) extremely brief mention of drowning. (lmk if I need to add)

A/N: my first little cod fic I'm posting! teehee. Just something cute and domestic and simple that I thought of while showering. LMAO I did this instead of writing my thesis today so plz enjoy. More like this maybe to come?

It was late and a shower was long overdue.

You were grateful to finally be at a place where you could shower. It'd been days out on a mission and the sight of the little house was like heaven on Earth. Laswell had gotten it together, and you all met her there with little ceremony, but plenty of thanks. You each made sure each of you were good and not dying before sitting in with Kate.

You always got a little protective over the boys after the high stress, near-death-experiences you go through together. And they were the same with you, and each other, in their own little ways. Sometimes you weren't sure why, but you rolled with it. Soap always made a point to talk with you, helping you and himself destress. Ghost made sure you weren’t hurt, you would do the same, then he’d say something about getting better. You and Gaz liked to eat together, making sure you were both fed. Price was quiet, bringing you tea or coffee in the later hours, but never quiet enough to avoid a bit of banter. Sometimes it was a hearty combination of them all at the same time, and sometimes it was just one or two. Whatever it was, you were grateful. 

This current mission had resulted in you and Johnny both nearly drowning to death, but you were okay, and so was he. Naturally, it left all parties a little on edge. Soap didn’t shut up the whole drive to safety, keeping spirits light while Ghost and Gaz tried to keep the two of you from freezing to death. Laswell was worried too. She insisted, in her stoic way, on getting you all safe and rested for a bit before moving forward.

This wasn't the first time you'd all holed up in a small house, and it wouldn't be the last, but it was definitely one of the quieter nights of the five of you together. Laswell and Price wasted little time before discussing and debriefing. The rest of you were hardly as interested, tired mostly, but pulled in all the same.

Finally, they let you head up to the shower first, even though Johnny was shaking from the chill of still being in damp clothes.

"Go on, lass," he had chattered. "I'll b-be just fine."

Ghost had to force another towel around him before you were satisfied.

Upstairs, you twisted the shower on, letting the heat steam as you undressed. You peeled away a still damp uniform and even damper socks. Ew.

You'd need a full body scrub down to feel better.

You stepped in, pulling the curtain closed and letting the hot water soak through your hair and warm you to the bone. It hurt a little at your toes, the way warm water does as blood rushes around you again. You started with shampoo, lathering your hair intentionally, but not in a hurry.

As you rinsed you swore you heard the door creak. Then a relaxed sigh confirmed your suspicion.

"Soap?" You guessed quietly.

The Scot hummed in response.

You didn't mind. It wouldn't be the first time he'd stood by while you showered. Though normally it was because neither of you wanted whatever intriguing discussion you were having to be interrupted. Another of those weird little, post-mission comforts. This was just him, sitting quietly, enjoying the warmth of the steamed washroom.

You heard him kick his boots off as you put conditioner in your hair. Then another sound of the door hinges. At first you thought he'd left-weirdo, just drop your boots and leave- but then you realized from a mumbling grunt that he had not left.

You heard the shuffling of movement and the quietest unidentifiable remark from Soap, and then just the sound of the water again.

"Soap?" You asked, confirming if the man was still there.

He hummed again. "Still 'ere. Got some company too."

If you had to guess, it was probably Ghost. You could imagine him plopped down on the floor at Soap's feet, leaning against the man's legs. Again, it didn't bother you as you rinsed the product from your hair. Ghost had seen you roughed up, helped patch you up enough that his presence couldn't bother you. You'd done a bit of the same for him. Those weird little comforts.

Knowing they were on the other side of the dark curtain, dirty and wet and tired, but alive, settled a bit of the hammer of worry in your chest. It warmed you from the inside as much as the water on the outside.

The door hinges creaked again, announcing another arrival. You were grinning now.

"Captain scare ya off, Gaz?" Ghost teased.

There was a moment where he didn't respond. "This is just the warmest room in the house, with how much water she's using."

You laughed lightly as you lathered up. Whatever he was in here for you also didn't mind. You trusted Kyle with your life, and with the times he's seen you drunk after celebratory bar nights, you couldn't chase him off now. Those little comforts.

Before you could rinse off, the door creaked a fourth time. You thought maybe one of them had left. Maybe Kyle. But instead, you heard an unmistakable grumble.

"You moppets. Let the girl shower in peace." Price's voice was low but laced with a tease.

"And wot brings you 'ere, Captain?" Soap poked right back.

You rinsed yourself, a laugh escaping you as you thought about the four grown men occupying the small space. Little comforts. 

"What's so funny?" Ghost's voice was light, or at least as light as it could be when he wasn't too stressed.

"Are you all hiding from Kate?" You teased.

When your question was met with silence, you had your answer. Your laugh burst from you as you turned the water off. It subsided only as the chill of the air entered the isolated space as you extended your hand through the small gap between curtain and wall. There was a moment of shuffling and scrambling, then a towel landed in your hand.

"You'd be hidin' too if you were down there listening to her plans, that woman never rests," Soap's voice grumbled. It made you laugh again as you wrapped the towel around your body. You finally pulled open the curtain to the scene before you.

Like you'd guessed, Soap was seated on the toilet, boots off in the pile next to your own, his clothes still damp. Ghost was seated on the floor in front of him, still fully geared. Kyle had at least taken off his equipment in a different room, sitting on the floor against the sink counter. And Price, also still fully dressed, was leaning just inside the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.

While the other men glanced away in their respectful little ways, Soap watched as you stepped out, earning a thump on the leg from Ghost.

"What?" Soap cried. "She's'not naked!"

You laughed, stepping over Ghost and Gaz's legs as you made your way to the door. You rested your free hand on Price's shoulder and his eyes met yours.

"Surely Kate's new ideas aren't that bad," you teased.

The man shrugged, a smile crinkling his eyes. "You can go find out."

You huffed a tiny laugh. You could feel all their eyes on you now, so you made a point to linger just a moment longer. "One of you start showering; you all smell."

You headed for your own room as Soap's gripes and protests hit your ears. You understood something along the lines of “wouldn’t if you’d not taken all the water.” You smiled to yourself. They were protective, always in that weird little way of theirs after the high stress, near-death-experiences you all go through together. Shared little weird-not weird, just your own-comforts to make sure you were all alive and well. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

Thanks for reading.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

That’s Not What Friends Do (part 2)

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: none, this is so short I’m so sorry I just don’t have the motivation to finish this ugh..

part 1

As soon as the Brazilian GP was over, you were overcome with guilt for not being there for Lando. You already knew how it would look like after an unsuccessful race, he would shift all the blame to himself and that failure would eat him up for days.

You couldn't help but wonder if anything would have been different if you had gone to Brazil with him. Probably not, but at least you could have given him the comfort he so desperately needed right then and there. And that's why as soon as he returned home, you immediately found yourself knocking on the door of his apartment in Monaco.

"Hey, Lan" You gave him a soft smile looking straight into his eyes when he opened the door.

He smiled weakly back at you, saying nothing. He didn't even need to say anything because you could see the sadness in his sleepless eyes, so you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight and comforting hug.

"What took you so long?" He whispered as he buried his head in your neck, holding his arms tightly around your waist.

"I'm sorry, I came as soon as I could" You said gently caressing the back of his head.

The evening went by with you trying to talk to him about it, but he wasn't in the mood for it. He just wanted to take his mind off what was, for him, a tough defeat and enjoy your company, so you didn't push it.

You ordered food, had dinner, and then turned on a movie. Everyone was on their own end of the couch, Lando was lying on the elongated part, and you were sitting a little further away from him.

As the movie went on, you kept adjusting your position because it became uncomfortable for you to keep sitting.

"What's wrong?" Lando asked when you let out a deep sigh. "Are you getting bored with the movie?"

"No, but my back is starting to hurt." You stretch as you say.

"Come here" He extends his arm, signaling you to come lie down next to him.

"It's okay, don't worry" You want to. So much. But you know you shouldn't.

"Come" He insists.

You sigh, but move over to him anyway, resting your head on his shoulder as he wraps his arm around you. The movie continues, but Lando completely shifts his focus from the movie to you. Lucky for him, you don't see his gaze drop down to you as you lie curled up next to him, but you definitely feel his fingers gently playing with your hair. You just hope that the butterflies you feel in your stomach don't jump out and give you away.

"Are you okay, Lan?" You ask looking up at him.

He smiles at you and places his hand on your cheek. "I'm better now"

You blush at his gesture, thinking to yourself this is not what friends do. Lando was almost certain he was going to kiss you tonight. This was the perfect opportunity with you on him like this, with you pressed tightly against him and in his arms. Everything was leading to that.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be with you for the weekend. I was really busy finishing up the project I'd been working on."

"Were you really?" He asked with a hint of suspicion.

"Of course I was. I don't understand why do you think I would lie to you?”

"I don't know." He shrugs. "Maybe you wanted to be with your date that you still haven't told me about." The butterflies in your stomach fly away as soon as he mentions the date.

At that very moment, so late at night, your phone, which was next to you on the couch, rang and the screen displayed Charles' name and surname and seeing that, Lando's heart dropped.

"Charles Leclerc? You're fucking Charles Leclerc?"

part 3

@tvdtw4ever @gulphulp @harrysdimple05 @444-leqz @htpssgavi @honethatty12 @l-vroom4 @enjoythebutterflies3 @charlesgirl16 @scopeiguess @dontsupressthejess

[flightyalrighty]

FIRST | PREVIOUS | NEXT CH 1 PG 36

Infested will return on June 27th. --- Thank you to the following Ascended supporters: @chaogongoozles, @fiiresiidefrfr, @elizard4227, @grogar, Ezzoh, @susivoi, @calculuscacophony, Eros, @ivycorp, @summersdale @borrelia, @mizukiz, @sanicdetails, @combinegrunt-echo-1, Pica, @veeceear, @quackenburt, ItsmeMonarch, @memendoemori, @trans-girl-sonic, & savarsenic

Content Warnings | Store | Ko-Fi (Discord!) | Read On Comic Fury! DISCLAIMER: "Infested" is a horror comic ft. content not suitable for those under the age of 17.

A long-winded looking back on things below the cut:

The first few pages of Infested were uploaded to this blog on March 2nd, 2023 -- Over a whole year ago! I was so busy, too, that I completely missed its birthday (Sorry Infested). Looking even further back than that, the original story was was something I began writing on December 25th, 2022 (Merry Christmas).

It took two years to get to this point.

And hey, not to toot my own horn about it, but completing even one chapter of a webcomic is a big deal. Especially for me. My first webcomic, Fight/Flight, didn't get very far. I completed the prologue, started Chapter 1, and then had to drop it for a number of reasons (I didn't really agree with what baby-me had to say, politically, anymore).

This comic was born from a lot of intense feelings. The story, itself, too. Some good. Some bad.

I had been forced to move away from my hometown, and with that move, I lost the physical connection that I had to all of my friends. I lost the familiarity of a place I'd known for most of my life. I'm now stuck somewhere... Worse. It felt like a cage. Still does. Disconnected from the life I thought I would be living after college. I didn't have health insurance, either -- Got kicked off of it because of the move -- And as a result, I was off my antidepressants.

So there I was, at a pretty low point in my life. I miserable and lonely and every single day dragged on. And on. And on. And I felt so disappointed in myself. That disappointment became self-loathing, and it all kinda spiraled.

Have I mentioned that I'm a huge Sonic fan? I don't think I need to. I'd say it's pretty obvious. But for the sake of this story, I'll say it again: I'm a HUGE Sonic fan. I've been that way since 2003 with Sonic Heroes. The franchise has been in my life for over two decades. I had a monthly mail subscription to Archie's Sonic the Hedgehog. Sonic the Hedgehog was something that I truly loved more than any other piece of media. It brought me endless joy. Until I didn't.

I had dropped Sonic after Lost World was... Itself. I had already felt pretty irritated with the Meta Era, and Lost World was the final straw. The last bit of hope that the series could recover was snuffed out when Forces was released. It was over. I was done. If Sonic was truly that embarrassed by itself, if they had truly lost touch with what made the series so great, then I wouldn't waste my time any longer. I was so sure that I had to just... Grieve and move on. My beloved childhood game series was dead. Long live the king or whatever. I'd just bitterly read IDW Sonic and think about what could've been. I was lucky to have that comic, at least. Archie had been canceled, too, after all. I was lucky to have my scraps.

Then Sonic Frontiers came out. And it changed everything.

And my god, it was everything. It was everything to me. Flaws be damned, it was everything. To. Me. The spectacle. The serious tone. The vastly improved writing. Kellin Fucking Quinn. It was FUN! It was actually FUN to PLAY. He was back. I was back. Sonic pulled me by my hand out of the ocean of misery I'd fallen into, and he looked me in my eye and he said;

"Hey. You're gonna be alright."

Metaphorically speaking. Sonic The Hedgehog didn't actually literally speak to me -- And sure, okay, maybe it's a little dramatic to describe a game as this great Depression Annihilator but I'm dead serious when I say that, for that time, before I was able to get back on my meds, I was self-medicating with Sonic.

Sonic was all I was thinking about. I reread the Unleashed arc in Archie Sonic, which got me sorta realizing something, and which led to my post where I said something along the lines of "Sonic would hide a zombie bite."

Archie Sonic would, at least. Because he basically did do that in the Unleashed arc of that comic. He let that problem fester until it became an even bigger problem because, ironically, he didn't want to be a problem.

So one thing led to another. I thought more about Sonic becoming a zombie. Bada-bing, bada-boom, Infested was born.

I didn't expect it to get the attention that it did. I felt lucky when the first page I drew Rouge on (Page 6 I think?) blew up. The right people saw it at the right time. I'm extremely grateful for that.

I'm extremely grateful for all of you.

So yeah, one chapter. Woo! Here's to many more.

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

A Well Deserved Grudge

Summary: You still hate them after their overblot

Notes: GN Yuu. Some based off some stuff from the light novel. Yuu is pretty evil in Jamils. General edginess that comes with angst

Based on this old post abt Yuu with scars • Part 2

Riddle Rosehearts

A familiar click of heels has you on edge. As they approach you turn around to face him, messing with some of the bandages around your neck from your last encounter. There stood Riddle, his confident stance dropping the second he meets your eyes. 

His usual piercing gaze filled with anxiety as the words he so wanted to say— needed to say— died on his tongue. He's such a coward without a rule book. He's even more cowardly under your scrutiny.

"What?” You deadpan at him and Riddle swallows, looking at the bandages on your neck and arms. He then looks at your face, covered in a few scratches from rose bushes.

“... I… am here to… ” His voice shook toward the end and he took a breath to steady himself. “I'm sorry Yuu. I didn't mean to hurt you.”

You merely raised a brow and fully turned to him. Riddle could see the gash along your neck that peeked through some of the bandages. A grim reminder on how his magic failed during his overblot. The expression you had on your face as the collar around your neck continued to tighten and cut into you haunts him.

“You’re apologizing?” A flicker of determination flashes in Riddle's eyes as he nods. 

“Yes. I know it's not enough but… I'm sorry.” The dullness of your eyes reminds the dormleader that this was far from enough to smooth things over.

“I do not forgive you.” He should have expected that, yet he winces still. What is he supposed to do in this scenario? What else does he say? There is no rule, no guide to what he has done. Deuce and Ace said that he needs to make things right, but how?

“... I understand. If there's anything I can do to earn your forgiveness, please–”

“I don't think there's anything you could do that makes this okay.” Your voice is dull as you pull at the bandages on your neck. “Shouldn't you be in the headmage's office fighting your expulsion?”

It was true. Crowley was to judge whether or not he was to be expelled for his actions. It scared him. “I… I am but–”

“Then go. We both know you won't be kicked out– Crowley doesn't have a backbone and your bitch of a mother will make sure you stay in. You want to ‘earn’ my forgiveness? Stay the hell away from me.” 

Riddle grits his teeth and closes his fist tighter. Emotions of all kinds surge through him. He's confused, he's guilty, he's angry, he's lost. 

Most of all, he's scared. Scared of your gaze, scared of how you hold yourself. Your eyes remind him so much of the ones above him he tries to please and they're boring into him with such disapproval.

“I don't want to see you around, get your shitty tantrums in check. Just because you lose your head doesn't mean others have to. Just go.”

By now you've turned away and started walking off. Riddle could only watch, unable to find the strength to move or say anything. It was probably for the better. He needs to go to the Headmage.

Jamil Viper

He hates this feeling. You have forgiven him, though and through, water under the bridge and he hates it. He hates how you shrug it off. He hates that you don't hate him. He hates this guilt.

He mind controlled you. You. A magicless and defenseless human who was already helping him. You who are in a position so similar to his. You who had no way to fight back. He kidnapped you, keeping you in Scarabia for days regardless of your own plans. If it weren't for your dorm ghosts feeding the fire fairies, Crowley would have cut off your food for the week.

Then he tried to kill you, and had the audacity to be angry at you for it. To add even more salt into the wound you were so kind with him afterwards. You didn’t seem to take it seriously. Take him seriously. Your attitude reminds him so much of Kalim which makes this even worse.

He hates your smile. He hates your attitude. He hates the way you have to walk because of your injuries. He hates seeing glimpses of the wounds on your abdomen from him.

Yet another reminder of his failures. How he hates someone that's not entirely to blame. How he hates someone that's overly nice. He avoids your gaze so often he doesn't notice the glints of satisfaction within it.

Vil Schoenheit

He could only stare at the prefect within the mirror. Their gaze so fixated on themselves and their new appearance they paid no mind to the hospital bed they should be laying in. He wants to lecture them to sit, lay back down and to stop sitting up, but he's sure they would break down if he did.

Blackened veins run along your body, your skin reddened and inflamed in random areas. Even with all the magical remedies the doctors have given you, the black tar like substance runs through you still. “Good going Vil. Really fucked that one up huh?” 

Vil’s eyes met yours in the mirror, he could see your face steel itself before you turned to him. Your eyes stood out against the inky scrawls of venom coursing through you. They were so cold, so angry.

“... I know this is something I may never be able to amend…” Vil starts, taking a breath. Fuck. Years of acting and hard work are lost on him. It is hard to keep strong when seeing how badly your own childishness, your own selfishness hurt someone this badly.

“I want to apologize. I know this is far from enough. I plan to not only cover any costs that may occur in your recovery, but to also offer my support in any way I can during your recovery.” 

Your gaze only hardens. "Bare minimum I guess…” You sniffle a bit as words slur. It was clear you were still inebriated. You weren't going to be the most logical right now, but that's fine. He will say this apology a million times over if it would make it right.

“... If there is anything you need..."

“Go away.” You sniffle again, wiping away tears. “Just leave.” Vil swallows and shuts his eyes for a moment. “I understand.” 

As he turns to leave the drugs in your system really start to kick in. “You… You really are a villain.” The words come out crude and harsh, no doubt you are speaking to hurt him. Yet as you turned away he could see your face in the mirror.

Scared. You were scared of him. You were scared and truly believed in what you were saying. And you weren't wrong. He is a villian.

Malleus Draconia

A mighty dragon places his glass heart in the hands of a human without their knowledge, and is enraged when the human breaks it. Except here Malleus broke it himself to protect himself from the possibility of the human hurting him first. Now he holds the shards of what's left and sees them stained not by his blood, but by yours.

A position he put onto you, his only friend. He does not even know if he has the right to call you that anymore. Not after his little stunt. Children of men do not deserve to be locked away in the dark, no matter how beautiful you were in it. They were to be free. Even if it hurt him. You and him could have been free together.

He looks at your expression. It still holds no fear, no anxiety, just as foolishly brave you were when he first met you. Instead it holds disappointment. Such a pathetic emotion that he would smite off anyone else if it wasn't you. 

“... You're really selfish, you know that?” You mutter and look away from him, as if not wanting to believe the words coming out of your own mouth. “Were we really friends or was I just some doll to you? Some obsession?”

A sniffle. “I wanted to be your friend…” Malleus hasn't the words to respond. He can only open his mouth then close it. “I know. I'm sorry. You made me so happy I wanted you all to myself. It's not an excuse, but when I thought I would be losing you, it was too much for me. I made… A very rash decision.”

There's silence. More deafening than the silence at his birthday parties growing up. “Is there any possibility you could forgive me?” It was a daring question, one he was afraid to know the answer to. 

“... I don't know, Tsuno. I think… I think I need some time to think about it.” You turn away from him and his heart sinks, the pet name does nothing to soothe his nerves.

He remembers all the times he's told you how his kind are born cruel and you would tell him that his actions have shown just how kind he could be. That him learning to be nice and overcoming his nature is more meaningful than anyone who was born that way. 

And he ruined that. He may not be able to choose his nature but he can choose his actions. He chose to hurt you.

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 2

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 1 | Series Masterlist | Part 3

Chapter Summary: You're anxious before your date.

Chapter Word Count: Over 3.1k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, stalking, coercion, threats (not against reader), creepy and unhinged behavior, flashback, possessiveness, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Hope you lovelies enjoy and thank you for the feedback so far! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You loved working at the flower shop. Putting together beautiful arrangements and bringing joy to others made you happy. But today, the morning after that stranger showed up in your home, you weren’t fully alert as you went about your tasks. The air around you felt different, thicker. Flipping through the order book, you attempted to look busy instead of walking around in a haze.

Whenever you began to focus, your mind would drift back to Bucky Barnes and your upcoming date. You hadn’t told Addison or anyone else about it because what could you tell them? How could you explain your situation?

You hadn’t even slept in your own bed thanks to that man.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed seated on the couch once Bucky left your place. You’d have to move eventually, but you were replaying what happened in your head like a song on repeat and tried to make sense of it. A man broke into your home, but didn’t steal anything. Held you in his lap, but didn’t violate you.

No, that last part wasn’t true. That was exactly what he did. He violated your safety. And demanded a date with you.

You jerked when your phone dinged, but your heart only pounded faster when you saw a message from a new contact.

Bucky.

“I wish I could’ve stayed the night, but I’ll dream about you and count down the minutes until our date. Don’t forget about your gifts.”

He knew the date was on because how could you say no?

Your stomach dropped as you glanced down the hall. Wiping the remaining tears away, you got to your feet and cautiously made your way toward your bedroom. You weren’t expecting anyone to be there, but who knew what he did while you were at work? And what if he came back?

Would you scream for help or call the police?

“Just go in,” you whispered.

Pushing the door open with a shaky hand and flipping on the light, everything looked normal as you looked around and approached the bed. Everything except the garment and gift bag in the middle of it. They taunted you, daring you to look inside. At the very least, to read the small card on top of the bag.

You caught a small whiff of the cologne he wore as you picked it up and read the single statement.

“This is just the beginning, doll.”

The card slipped from your shaky hand. It would’ve been romantic under normal circumstances. You looked inside the gift bag next, but it did nothing to calm your nerves. Not only was it your favorite perfume as he stated, but it was the largest size available.

You unzipped the garment bag after and gasped at the sight of the dress. It was from a designer you admired, but could never afford. Simple yet beautiful in design, you had to stop yourself from running your hand over the fabric. Yes, it was a beautiful dress and it was just the right size.

But it came with strings attached.

“How?”

You half expected to see a blinking light when your eyes darted to the corners of your bedroom, but everything still looked ordinary. Nothing looked out of place. It didn’t stop your skin from crawling at the thought of him watching you. Because how did he know your size and the kind of perfume you liked? That you liked having a glass of wine when you took a bath? The password to your phone?

How did he know anything about you?

That was perhaps one of the most terrifying aspects about your ordeal: He was clearly powerful and connected, yet you didn’t know exactly what he was capable of or how far he’d go.

It took you a minute to type back a message to him. “Thank you for the gifts.”

A response came back almost immediately. Was he waiting by his phone for you? “Like I said, it’s just the beginning. I have another gift waiting for you, but you’ll have to wait until tomorrow for that one. It’s a surprise.”

You suddenly didn’t like surprises.

Could you accept gifts wrapped in pretty bows if it meant keeping those you cared about safe? Would you be a living doll to satisfy whatever craving he had that led him to you? At the very least, you’d have to play along for one night to try and get some answers.

“I’m sure it’ll be a nice surprise. Good night.” You sent, hoping he’d get the hint and leave you be.

“Sweet dreams.”

Grabbing a blanket, you made your way back to the living room and curled up in your oversized chair. There wouldn’t be any sweet dreams. Not tonight. Not with the way your mind raced.

Because who the hell was Bucky Barnes and why did he want you?

The bell over the door rang, pulling you from your thoughts and reminding you that you had a job to do. You blinked as a tall man with golden hair and bright blue eyes walked in. A new customer from what you gathered, and an intimidating one at that. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until you exhaled once he smiled in your direction.

“Hi,” you said, closing your book. “How can I help you?”

“I’m here to get some flowers for my girl,” he replied, the deep timbre gentle yet commanding. “No special occasion or anything. I just want to surprise her.”

A smile touched your lips. “That’s one of the best reasons to get someone flowers,” you said. You liked to imagine your future husband would get you flowers just because he felt like it. “Does she have a favorite?”

“Tulips,” he answered without hesitation. “Any color as long as they’re tulips.”

You stepped around the corner and led him to the premade arrangements. “We have this multicolored bouquet that she may like. Brightens the room and has an uplifting aroma.”

The gentleman reached out to touch one of the petals before he nodded. “She’ll love them,” he said more to himself than to you.

He sounded like a man in love.

“I’m sure she will,” you agreed, carefully carrying it to the counter so you could ring it up. Your skin prickled when you felt his eyes on you, but you told yourself to relax. This guy wasn’t like Bucky. You were paranoid after last night and he was likely watching just to make sure you didn’t drop the bouquet. “Will this be all for you?”

“Which one is your favorite?”

“My favorite?” You repeated as he waited for your response. The question surprised you, but you nodded to one of the recent arrangements you made. “It’s hard to choose a favorite, but I like stargazer lilies.”

You sometimes brought arrangements home for yourself since you couldn’t remember the last time anyone got you flowers.

“I’ll take those, too,” he said, going to get the vase himself. “I really appreciate your help.”

“It was nothing,” you smiled, ringing up the order. “And you made my job very easy, so thank you.”

“Your partner must feel very lucky to have you,” he said before you paused.

Biting your tongue, you stopped yourself from correcting him. You didn’t have a partner. A possible stalker? Yes.

His brows furrowed as he quietly paid. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

You shook your head and put your best customer service smile back on your face. “No apologies. I actually have a first date tonight. Maybe he’s the one,” you told him, the words tasting like ash in your mouth. “I hope your girl enjoys her flowers.”

He smiled back as he took the bouquets and receipt. “Me, too,” he said, something sparkling in his eye when he added, “Good luck on your date.”

The blonde left without another word, leaving you to grip the counter and wonder how the hell you were going to get through your evening.

You stood in front of your bedroom mirror hours later, admiring yourself in the dress. It fit you well. Beautifully, as much as you didn’t want to admit it. You spritzed yourself with the perfume too. Might as well use it since Bucky was likely expecting it.

The scent should’ve brought a smile to your face instead of tears to your eyes.

“Hey! Still on for hanging out tomorrow?” Addison messaged you as you checked the time on your phone.

You blinked the tears away and realized you hadn’t messaged her once today. You were afraid to. If you mentioned Bucky, it would tempt you to spill what happened since you hardly kept anything from your best friend. And if you told her what happened…

Bucky would know.

With a shudder, you messaged her back. “Yep! See you then.”

The tension in your body skyrocketed when your doorbell rang at 7pm, right down to the second. “Be right there!” You called, shoving your phone in your clutch before you took one last look in the mirror. What did it matter if you looked good or not? It was a forced date.

You exhaled as you opened the door and froze when you saw Bucky standing on the other side. You foolishly thought he wouldn’t show, but luck wasn’t on your side. The sharp, dark suit he wore and air of confidence he carried had your heart pounding in your chest. The glove covering his left hand somehow worked with the suit.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his gaze sweeping over you. Why did he look at you like you were something to be desired? “You are so beautiful.”

Butterflies filled your stomach despite your fear. If only he had approached you and asked you out like a normal guy. “Thanks,” you whispered, locking the door once you were in the hall.

Did he have your spare key or did he find a way to get a copy?

“I wore this suit to match your dress,” he said, giving you an expectant look.

The guy was actually fishing for a compliment. “And you look very handsome,” you said, a smile lighting up his face.

“Thanks.” He held his arm out, satisfaction filling his eyes when you took it. “I’m glad you said ’yes’ to this date.”

“I’m sure you would’ve found a way to convince me if I didn’t,” you told him, reminding yourself that accepting this kept your loved ones safe and sound.

“I would have,” he agreed, keeping you close as he led you outside to where a luxury car was waiting. The car likely cost more than what you made in a year. “But you saved me the trouble by agreeing like the good, smart girl I know you are.”

You didn’t thank him for the “compliment”.

Bucky didn’t wait for the driver to open the door, grabbing the handle and helping you inside himself. You slid across the seat and tried to keep your dress from riding up as he got in beside you. He didn’t allow you any breathing room as the glass partition went up and the car took off. You were alone with him.

He could do whatever he wanted.

“You can sit in my lap if you’d like,” he said to break the silence. “It’s nice and comfortable.”

“No thanks,” you said, glancing ahead at the glass when he took your hand. You’d been in his lap the night before and that was more than enough. “Doesn’t seem safe.”

“You can sit here after dinner then,” he suggested, smirking when you glanced out of the corner of your eye.

Your stomach turned at that. He mentioned it took everything in him not to drag you to bed. You believed him. How long would he hold out before he tried to make a move?

“Sorry I didn’t text you today. I didn’t want to bother or overwhelm you while you were working,” he continued, kissing each of your knuckles as you stared straight ahead again. “At least not right away.”

“How considerate of you,” you muttered.

He chuckled and pressed another kiss to your hand before he held it in his lap. You stiffened and for a moment you thought he’d put your palm to his crotch. You weren’t sure what to expect from him.

“Look. I want tonight to be good for both of us. I’m sure you have a lot of questions and I’ll do my best to give you answers,” he said, tucking a bit of hair behind his ear as he addressed the elephant in the room. “I know a lot about you, but I imagine you don’t know much about me.”

“No, I don’t,” you admitted. As tempted as you were to look up his name, you refrained and couldn’t put your finger on why. “If I ask you questions, will you lie to me?”

“I have no reason to lie.” He brought a gloved hand to your cheek and forced you to meet his gaze. Even in the dark of the car, you could see the want in his eyes. “I want you to trust me.”

Trust the man with zero respect for boundaries? Could you do that? “Addison’s bachelorette party was a month ago. Was that really the first time you saw me?”

“It was. Everything changed when I saw you,” he replied, moving his hand from your face down to your neck. Like he just had to touch you. “Though it didn’t take a month to track you down, it did give me time to do my research and find out everything I could about you. Where you live, where you work, your interests, your routine. I like to be thorough.”

You turned your head away when it began to spin, trying to understand how he sounded so casual in his admittance to stalking you. You also couldn’t keep looking into those blue eyes. They would drown you.

What you wanted to ask was if he was watching you in your home. But trapped in that small space with him, what if his answer freaked you out more? He said he wouldn’t hurt you, but would he keep that promise?

The question that came out instead was, “And you just decided during that time that you wanted me?”

Your eyes shut as his lips touched your ear. “I wanted you the moment I saw you,” he whispered, making you shiver at the feel of his breath. “And the more I learned about you, the more you pulled me in. I’m just a moth drawn to your flame. And you’re exactly who I want by my side.”

His words washed over you, wearing you down like a stone sinking in the water. It was too much. Too intense. “Where are we going?”

“Mmm. Our date.” You exhaled when his fingers brushed along your arm. “I thought about renting out a restaurant or taking you away to an island for our first date. Something intimate and private. Then I thought, what’s more intimate and private than my penthouse?”

“Your penthouse?” You asked, opening your eyes.

“Yeah, my home,” he smiled, either not noticing or caring when your eyes rounded. “It’s the best spot in town, of course. Can’t beat the view. And we don’t need any eavesdroppers now, do we?”

Your heart sank as you reached for your phone. People would at least be able to see you in a public place, but his home? That was like going into the heart of a lion’s den. It would be so easy to message Addison or Dana and ask for some sort of help without giving too many details. You could-

Bucky took the phone from your hand and tucked it in his jacket pocket. “You won’t need that tonight,” he stated, something in his calm tone telling you not to argue. “I have a chef preparing dinner and a dessert and I selected a nice bottle of wine for us to share. I also want to give you a tour after the meal since it’s going to be your home sooner or later.”

You choked on your next breath. “It’s what?”

“We’re here,” he smiled, terror gripping you when the car stopped in an underground parking garage. “You can ask me more questions inside.”

“Bucky, did you say this is going to be my home?” You pressed as he helped you out, having to rush to keep up with him as he pulled you to an elevator.

You hoped that wasn’t the gift he wanted to surprise you with tonight.

“Not right away, but yes. My place is a bit safer than yours and it’s close to my club and your shop. A win-win,” he said, scanning a key card before the doors opened. “Don’t look so surprised. Most couples live together.”

You refrained from telling him that you weren’t a couple. “I think that’s moving a bit too fast,” you said, your voice cracking as he pulled you inside, keeping you right beside him even though there was plenty of space to be apart. “This is only our first date,” you added, not wanting to upset him.

“That’s why I said it wouldn’t be right away,” he teased, pressing the button for the top floor as his other hand rubbed your hip. “But soon.”

You kept your breathing under control as the elevator climbed higher. The man had your future mapped out and you had only known him for a day. Was this some sick, elaborate game that he was playing to scare the hell out of you? Or had he convinced himself that this was romantic?

“I hope you like it,” he said softly as you stepped out together and walked toward a man who stood by the door. He was just as large as Bucky, but didn’t dare make eye contact with you as he opened the door and let you in.

The spacious entrance opened up to a large living space with high ceilings and marble floors. It was admittedly gorgeous and you hadn’t seen the rest of the place yet. But that wasn’t what caught your attention. It was the flowers in the middle of the table a few feet in front of you.

The coy smile on Bucky’s face made your blood freeze when you faced him. “Those are your favorite, aren’t they?” He asked.

They weren’t just your favorite flowers.

It was the same arrangement of stargazer lilies you sold to the blonde gentleman earlier today.

“I told you, doll. I know everything about you,” he began as the clutch fell from your hand and the door shut with a heavy thud. “And I have eyes and ears everywhere.”

Zero chill, lovelies. What's the surprise he has for you? How will this date go? And did you like the appearance from the man in the shop? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[vladtoly]

Close Call

Dae-Ho x Female!Reader

Requested: Yes

Proofread: No

Word Count: 690

A/N: I need to preface this by saying I really loved Thanos' character and I simply portrayed him this way for the blurb. No hate for him, I swear! Also I did struggle a bit making Dae-ho the jealous type, so he may come off more protective than anything. Hope it's still good, thank you for requesting!

As the second game came to a close, you sat anxiously on your bunk, watching the entrance doors. Your boyfriend had been on a different team, though not by his own choice. Originally, you had been with his group, but when player 222 had come to them, revealing she was pregnant? You immediately gave up your spot. Dae-ho looked like he wanted to object and offer to leave instead, but you silence him with a simple side eye. Whatever group you were in, you’d assumed you would be fine, or at least hoped. And you were.

Now you were just worried about him.

“Senorita, excuse me. Mind if I join?”

You sighed as a weight landed on your mattress, the voice not waiting for your answer. Just a glance at your side revealed it to be Thanos. You hadn’t even been in his group, just sitting in the one behind his- but that didn’t stop him from turning around and dropping pick up lines constantly. It had almost been a relief when it was your group’s turn.

Shifting away, you kept your eyes on the entrance. “I do, actually, thanks.”

The man ignored your answer and made himself comfortable, man spreading and propping his arms behind him on the mattress. He seemed to know how to make any space crowded, all on his own.

“Don’t know why you’re looking at the door. All you need is right here,” he purred out, leaning his head closer to you.

“I’m waiting on my boyfriend. You can leave.” Your reply was short and sharp, hoping maybe obvious disinterest would make him leave. But you also doubted it.

The weight moved closer, and as soon as you felt a hand on your arm, your head finally snapped to look at him. “Do you know what ‘leave’ means?”

His face split into a goofy grin, obviously high off one of the pills you saw him pop earlier. “Well, I finally got you to look at me, didn’t I?”

Before you could respond, a hand grabbed Thanos’ hoodie and dragged him off the bed. When the owner of the hand came into view, you were more relieved to see Dae-ho. He was alive. Thank God.

“Why were you touching her?” he nearly yelled, his attention directed at Thanos.

Oh, right. You almost forgot about him.

Thanos just laughed, shoving himself out of your boyfriend’s grip. He brushed himself off as you quickly went to Dae-ho’s side.

“She looked lonely. I was just trying to help, you know?” Thanos leaned closer. “When you finally drop dead, then I’ll really help her.”

“You fucking bas-“Your words were cut off as Dae-ho lands a hard blow to his cheek.

Hobbling back, Thanos tried to lunge forward only to have the rest of your group step in front of him, making a wall. Your eyes were trained on him until a gentle hand touched your cheek, directing you to look away. As you turned, your eyes met with soft brown ones, wide with worry. “Hey, are you okay? What happened, what did he do?”

The sound of your boyfriend’s voice grounded you. You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Nothing, he didn’t get the chance.”

His shoulders finally relaxed, resting his forehead on yours. “God, remind me to never leave you alone again.”

“Dae-ho, he was more of an annoyance than anything. He’s been doing shit like that all day.” You sighed out.

He groaned, tilting his head to look at the ceiling. “Trust me, I noticed.”

The words sank in. A small smirk began to form on your face. “Were you watching us earlier?”

“Kind of impossible not to. I wanted to check on you, and he also happens to be the loudest guy here. Makes it hard not to notice.” His eyes remained on the ceiling as he spoke.

Chuckling softly, you gently moved him back to look at you. “I’m okay. I’m right here and okay. Thank you for looking out for me.”

A deep sigh left him as he placed a firm kiss to your forehead, mumbling against the skin, “Someone has to.”

---------------

Squid Game headcannon/blurb requests are OPEN!

[mimasroom2]

Rouge est perdue (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

Roommate!Ellie who is a perv😝

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

I remember somebody writing something like this but I’ve no idea who ˙◠˙. This is literally a complete 180 from my previous fic LMAO😭 it’s been over a year since I’ve written just pure smut,, idk if this is good or not but whatever.

C/w: FILTHY smut. Porn w a bit of plot. No use of Y/N. Fingering (both receiving). Pillow humping. dom!reader & sub!ellie. Kinda loser!ellie? Ellie is a perv but still needs consent >•<. Squirting😇.

W/c: 2.7k

~ 𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

“Heyyy Ellie? This is gonna sound weird,,, but like,, do you know where any of my underwear is?”

You feel so fucking weird asking your roommate this question. After all, it’s just so embarrassing, and you’ve looked EVERYWHERE. If you didn’t know where it is… she definitely didn’t. I mean, the dryer eats up your socks all the time. Probably happens to Ellie too. Surely you’re not the only one with garments missing.

Ellie shifts a little on her feet, “What do ya mean?” She looks at you with those damn puppy dog eyes she loves to use, and you swear you’re not crazy when your stomach does the flip thing.

You try not to look her in the eye, “Not really bras but more like… panties?”

“Ohhh okay. Ya I understand. Oh but no- haven’t seen any that aren’t mine.” She says nonchalantly while walking away.

You blink at her, “Oh! well thanks anyway.” You shrug your shoulders as you walk back into your room.

~

She had promised herself only a couple pairs. Maximum 3. She tried to be smart about it - she’d take one pair of each kind you had. That way it wouldn’t look so suspicious, instead of only your pretty Victoria’s Secret thongs going missing. One pair of briefs, one pair of bikinis,,, and of course her favorite thong of yours.

This whole… obsession… we can say, started on the second day the two moved in together. You two were sitting on the couch after you’d spent way too long lugging it inside together. You were texting your friends on your phone as she turned on the tv to some dinosaur channel. Ellie couldn’t stop sneaking glances of you - your body and what you were wearing. She flashed her eyes down and saw this absolutely gorgeous pair of red panties peek out from under your leggings. Seeing you in those almost made her drop the remote. Why would you be wearing something like that? Who were you trying to impress?

From what she could tell from rummaging through your things when you moved in yesterday, you were single. In fact, you basically had lay it all out beautifully for her. All your bras, underwear, tights and sex toys were all in the same box. She licked her lips, no girl getting some good head at the moment would need a clit sucking vibrator. It all came together when she casually mentioned her last girlfriend’s around you, and she had to turn away to smile when you mentioned you like girls too.

Now, Ellie had this habit. Whenever you’d go out with your friends or off to work, she’d waltz into her bedroom, lock the door (to be safe), and dig down deep in her underwear drawer until she found your own panties. She carefully had them hidden inside her own boxers, there was basically no way you could ever find them. Not like you would search her room without permission anyway, she knew you. And of course she didn’t really steal them… she was borrowing them. She planned on returning them whenever she felt like it… whenever that might be.

~

Today Ellie went through her usual routine of waiting five minutes after you left, going into her room, and grabbing the red thong. She sighed and bit her lip. It was almost as pretty as you.. silk with soft mesh, see through basically everywhere except for where your pussy would lay. She played with the red bow on top, “This is so fucking stupid.” She thought to herself.

Ellie pressed her lips together, reaching into her shorts and palming herself over her boxers. She sighed immediately, letting out a soft “fuuuckkkk” as her eyes fluttered shut.

She’d been waiting about two weeks since she snagged your thong to fuck herself with it. Yeah, she was really fucking horny for you, but she wanted to draw it out as long as she could.

She hummed to herself, “Mmmmm,, need more..” she sat down on her bed and took her shorts off. She inspected the panties once more, as if she hadn’t done that one hundred times already. Just by feeling them she could tell they were new. Maybe you were feeling confident about your new life you’ve started. New job, new roommate, new panties. She was absent-mindedly rocking her hips back and forth during this, thinking about how you’d look wearing them while laying on her bed.

She finally took off her boxers and dipped her fingers into her pussy. Her mouth opened a little, she was wetter than she thought she’d be. “Mmhh okay,” she sighs, “Thas’ better.” Ellie brought her wet fingers up to her throbbing clit, just touching it, not even rubbing circles like how she desperately needed to. She couldn’t take it and whimpered, pushing her fingers onto herself harder as punishment. She felt her clit fluttering faster each second she held her fingers there.

She suddenly stopped , getting up to grab a pillow. She situated it in between her legs. “Okay..” she sighed, slowly lowering herself onto it. She began rocking her hips back and forth again, knitting her eyebrows together. It felt so much fucking better than humping nothing, especially considering how firm the edge of the pillow was.

She kept going, making her movements faster, but she quickly grew annoyed as her shirt would become tucked underneath herself as she rides the pillow. Grunting, she quickly pulled the shirt off, completely bare and naked except for her black sports bra. She hastily grabbed your red panties and lost her mind humping the pillow. She whimpered and started to let out small, quiet moans as her actions grew more and more desperate.

“Y-yesss.. hah- so good.. fuck me, more pleassssse…” Ellie could feel that familiar tightness at her core start to arise.

~

As you approached the door to your appartement with your huge grocery haul in both hands, you heard the tv playing. You shook your head and smiled to yourself, “Ugh Ellie’s always turning the tv up way too loud.. gonna get noise complaints soon.” You thought.

Quickly stepping inside, you set all the grocery bags down on the counter and walked to the living room to tell Ellie to turn down the tv. However, as soon as you walked in there was no Ellie, only the tv turned up and on some channel you knew Ellie didn’t even watch. You raised an eyebrow but shook it off. She was probably invited somewhere last minute and, knowing Ellie, probably threw something on and ran out the door without turning off any lights or the tv.

You grabbed the remote from off the couch and watched the channel for a few seconds before deciding to click the power off button. The very second you turned off the tv, you weren’t greeted by silence, but by Ellie’s voice doing something you never thought you’d hear: moaning.

Your whole face suddenly grew red, and you felt your stomach drop. Your mind began to race: Holy shit. She’s fucking someone in there. Why is she doing that today. Ohmygod I never said I was going to the store. She probably thought I was going to work and would be out for hours. Fuck. Fuck. Why is she fucking that girl and not me? No- fuck that’s wrong. I can’t think that about my roommate I barley know! Ohmygod I thought that when she said she was single she meant like- she didn’t even do one night stands. Oh fuck me in the fucking ass-

Suddenly, your rapid stream of thoughts were cut off by Ellie moaning your name.

“Mmmhhhmm.. hahhh fuck right there baby. Yes.. yes I’m such a fuckin’ slut for you.” You hear her whine and fucking whimper. Your eyes grew as wide as balloons and you immediately dropped your purse on the couch. You take off your shoes so you’re not as loud, and sneak over to Ellie’s room where her door is closed.

You feel so fucking awkward you don’t know what to do. Maybe you felt a little more horny than awkward however, because suddenly you notice yourself squeezing your thighs together and shifting on your feet.

“Fuck it.” You thought. You reach for the door handle but stop as you go to turn it, second guessing yourself. Is this really right? Well I mean, she’s the one masturbating to you and moaning your name… so…

You turn the handle and slowly open the door. It creaks a little, causing Ellie to jump and freeze in place. The only thing you can manage to say is “Holyyyyy fuck.” Your super fucking hot ass tatted up roommate is riding her own pillow with your own red thong in hand moaning your own name. You feel like you can’t even breathe.

“Ohmygod wait-“ Ellie starts, trying her best to hunch over and cover herself with the pillow, “Okay fuck I’m really sorry I didn’t even think you’d be home fuckingfuckmegoddammit I even turned on the tv super loud so no one would hear me and if I heard it turn off I would know you came back but ohmyfuckinggod I didn’t hear it go silent imsofuckingsorry-“

You cut off her rambling of explanations and apologies, “Heyyyy, Ellie…?” You slowly take off your jacket and shirt, trying your very best to be sensual, but this was never your forte. “You didn’t finish… right?” You slowly look up at her.

“Wha-? What? Why are you asking me-“

“You didn’t answer me.” You interrupt her. Your eyes become half lidded as you feel yourself becoming more confident. “Did you finish? Yes or no, Els.”

Ellie suddenly blushes at the nickname, “No.” she whispers with wide eyes, looking right at you.

“Let me help you then.”

“Fuck- please.”

That’s all the consent you need before you practically leap onto her, kissing her ravenously. The kiss quickly becomes sloppy and desperate, you pull away quickly to get some air, “Fuck. Been wanting to do that since I moved in.” Without letting Ellie respond, you latch yourself onto her neck, kissing and taking in her scent that you love so much.

“Mmmph- please…” She whimpers, quite pathetically. “Can’t wait baby..”

You smile at the pet name, kissing her deeply again as your hands explore her toned body.

You swear it’s only ten seconds more and she breaks away, whispering “I-I need you.”

“Oh I fucking know.”

Ellie watches you, eyes unfaltering as you plant kisses down her chest, toned abs, all the way down to her pussy.

Without warning, you start sliding a finger in, “Wanna see how loose you are.” You mutter to yourself. You don’t know why you’re even shocked when you easily push inside of her, deciding to slip another finger in.

Ellie moans immediately, grinding her hips rapidly down onto your hand. She throws her head back and her moans become louder, quicker. Suddenly, something red to the right of Ellie catches your eye as you’re finger fucking her. You were so tunnel visioned, ready to fuck her, that you completely forgot about your missing panties. The panties that she stole. You keep your eyes locked on your underwear as you speed up, as Ellie starts whining, basically crying about how she’s “Gonna cum soon.”

You can feel her g-spot so easily.

“Yeah? You’re gonna fucking tell me you took it or you’re not gonna cum. Use your words.” You instruct, never slowing down your pace.

Ellie gasps, she can’t even pretend she doesn’t know what you’re talking about, “Yeah. Y-Yes I fucking took it. Mmm- wanted to see… needed you so bad.. aaaaahh..” she stammers out and you never stopped fucking her desperate little pussy, occasionally moaning in response to what she tried to say.

Finally getting the confession you needed, you curled your fingers up inside of her. “Fuck- I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum.. gonnacumbabyyy……”

“Cum for me, Ellie.”

She finally does, finally gets to cum after everything that’s happened. She gasps rapidly.

You talk her through her orgasm, saying things like, “That’s it Ellie.” “God you’re so fucking beautiful.”

As soon as she was done squirming, Ellie grabs your face and kisses you deeply. She sits the two of your up and slides her knee in between your thighs. You were so turned on, you swear you could cum just from doing this. It seems as though Ellie understood exactly what you wanted, because she swiftly flips you over onto your back and starts unbuttoning your pants.

You laugh, suddenly getting an idea, “Wait, wait. Turn around and cover your eyes, Els.”

She’s skeptical, raising an eyebrow but complies anyway. After all, you just gave her the best orgasm she’s probably ever had. She hears shuffling for a few seconds, and the zipper of your pants coming undone as you drop them to the floor.

“Tadaaaa!” You exclaim, signaling to Ellie that it’s okay if she turns around.

You swear Ellie’s eyes have never been wider as she sees you wearing nothing but that damn red thong.

She almost drools, “Holyyyyy shiiiitttttt..” and slowly walks over to you, grabbing your waist with her sexy ass hands. “Even better than I was imagining.. need to fuck you right now okay..?” She mutters, mostly to herself, as she’s still too distracted feeling up how the red silk hugs your body.

“Been ready for so long, Els.” You say as you crawl back onto the bed, trying to break her out of her spell.

Ellie climbs on top of you and plays with your nipples, kissing and biting your neck at the same time. You whimper - that’s definitely going to leave marks in the morning. Only after a few seconds her hands leave your chest, moving lower to peel away the red fabric and reveal your dripping pussy.

She gasps, staring for a few moments at how beautiful you are. “Fuck, so so pretty.” She cracks her knuckles, “God, you’re already so wet for me… I’m gonna stretch you out baby, lemme know if you hurt ‘mkay?”

You whine in response, feeling the butterflies in your stomach erupt as she effortlessly slides two fingers in. You gasp as she starts moving, then slowly picking up the pace until she’s basically slamming into your g-spot.

“Ohhh.. f-fuck me.”

Ellie pants as she pumps her gorgeous fingers in and out of you, “That’s jus’ what I’m doin’ baby.” She smirks. Suddenly, she adds one more finger and brings her thumb up to rub your clit, and you almost scream.

It only takes a little more and you’re already on edge. She can feel you clenching around her. You’re so close. She hisses sharply, sucking in the air through her teeth as you take her, “Fuck, see my tattoo moving as I fuck you hon?” She pants, “Doin’ so good for me like this.”

“I- I think I’m gonna cum soon..” You whimper and your legs start shaking. “Ahh,, fuck Ellie-!!”

“Go on baby, you can cum.”

With just that little bit of motivation, you finally have the orgasm you’ve so desperately wanted. It’s so intense as she keeps fucking you senseless, you feel yourself squirt, which almost never happens, the warm fluid surprising you. You cover your face with your hands, so embarrassed that your body is doing this for Ellie. She hushes you, letting you know it’s okay.

You know you’re finally done when you throw your head back, trying to catch your breath. Ellie flops down beside you, smiling at you and waiting for the right time to say something.

“So, wanna like… be my girlfriend now?” She says, absolutely way too nonchalantly.

You look at her and laugh, slapping her arm playfully, “You literally made me see stars, Ellie! Gimme a second!!”

She throws her hands up in the air. “Sorry, sorry! Just couldn’t wait.” You both giggle.

You turn over on your side, kissing her cute little nose, “Yeah.. yeah that’d be nice.”

You smile and Ellie’s face lights up, she quickly plants fast kisses all over your face. “My hot roommate wants to date me!!” She exclaims. You laugh and she pulls you in closer, hugging her arms around you.

She reaches over to turn off the lamp, and the two of you drift off to sleep.

♡

[vivwritesfics]

Can We Get One

The youngest Leclerc loves baby Leo. So why the fuck won't her boyfriends let her get a puppy?

Norstappen x leclerc!reader

Okay I found out one of 'my' dogs died while writing this

"Hi Baby Leo," she gushed as she scooped her little puppy into her arms. He was like a little shark with the way he went to bite at her sleeve.

But she didn't much mind, gushing over the dog that she had dubbed her nephew (well, if Arthur and Lorenzo weren't going to make her an aunt, Leo it would have to be).

"I'm gonna kidnap you," she said in that baby voice as she stroked under his chin. "Gonna steal you away from your daddy so you can come live with me and Lando and Max."

She was in her own little world as she played with Leo, her brother, her boyfriends, lost to her. Max tried to call her name, but she waved him off to press kisses to Leo's head.

Lando and Max couldn't deny how goddamn cute she looked, holding Leo close to her chest. She scooted around on her ass to face them. "Boys, I'm in love," she said and pouted at them as Leo went to bite her chin.

"Baby," Lando began as he joined her on the floor. "We're not getting a dog."

"Assholes."

She turned her attention away from Lando and looked towards her brother. "Charlie, do you need a baby sitter?" She asked as she placed Leo in her lap. He happily sat there and chewed on her skirt.

"No way," Charles said. "You're not babysitting my dog."

A huff left her lips and she muttered something to Leo, something like 'you'd never be this mean to me, would you angel?' "If I move in with you, cook, clean, pay rent, can I get a puppy?" She asked as she looked at him.

Max couldn't stop the laugh that left his lips. "Um, excuse me," he called and tapped her on the shoulder. She ignored him. "Angel, just because we're not letting you get a puppy..."

"That's not it, Maxie," she muttered and scratched at Leo's belly. "Leo just wants me close, that's all."

The Leclercs had always had dogs growing up. It was one of the reasons Charles had gotten Leo. So, seeing his sister so in love with his little puppy, he knew he had to do something.

Charles picked Leo up and pulled his sister up from the floor. She put Leo in his harness, attached his lead and put him on the floor. "Why don't you take him for a walk?" He said and pointed her towards the door.

But she didn't leave. "Cha," she whispered, looking back at her boyfriend. "What're you doing?"

He whispered something in her ear, something that Max and Lando couldn't hear. Something along the lines of 'I'm gonna try and convince these guys to get you a dog'.

She couldn't help but smile as she walked out, Leo at her heels.

Charles began talking to Max and Lando. But what he was suggesting was unrealistic. How could they have a dog when they already have cats? It wouldn't have been fair to Jimmy and Sassy.

But Charles wouldn't drop it, wouldn't drop how happy she looked when she was with Leo. Wouldn't drop how happy she would be if they got her a puppy.

By the time she came back with Leo, they still weren't convinced. But Max couldn't get it out of his head. They were his cats at the end of the day.

It didn't take long for him to work out that he'd do anything to make her happy, including get a puppy.

Charles took her away for a week. He was in on it, happy to help however he could.

And, while they were away, Max and Lando brought home Baguette. The name was Lando's idea, a 'French Poodle for a French girl'. Which pissed her off because she was not in fact French.

It was Max's job to introduce Baguette to the cats. It wasn't smooth sailing, but the boys knew it wasn't going to be. And, by the time Charles brought her home, Baguette and the cats were coming fast friends.

The memory of the first time she met Baguette would always be ingrained into Max and Lando's memory.

She threw her arms around Lando's neck the moment she walked into the apartment, unaware. But then she heard the barking.

"Is Leo here?" She asked, clearly confused as she looked around for the puppy.

But Max didn't emerge with a puppy. Well, not that puppy anyway. The French Poodle puppy was a stranger to her. "We got you something," Lando said as he watched her expression.

"No." It was almost a whisper as Max approached, Baguette in his arms.

"Baguette, say hello to your mommy," Max said as he passed her the dog.

Her mouth fell open as she took Baguette from Max. "This... this is a joke, right?" She couldn't stop herself from asking as Max wrapped his arm around Lando's waist. "You guys got me a dog?"

"We sure did, baby," Lando said as he stepped out from Max's embraced. He stroked Baguettes head, touched his soft, curly ears. "Baby, meet Baguette."

(Baguette below)

[formula-ghost]

Wildflower (OP81 x fem!reader x LN4)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER SUMMARY: In the aftermath of Oscar’s breakup, he realizes there’s only one thing he needs to start feeling better. 

WORD COUNT: 9.4k

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI. Reader has AFAB anatomy. Rough sex (choking, biting, hair pulling), oral (m and f receiving), fingering, P in V, use of protection, praise, degradation/name calling, no aftercare (literally this entire chapter is them fucking, I’m sorry. I promise that all the smut has plot value haha). Mentions of cheating, reader is haunted by the narrative, hints of angst at the end. Also if a man treats you like Oscar treats YN in this story, LEAVE HIM. 

TAGLIST:  @at-a-rax-ia  @henna006 @linnygirl09 @cassielikereading @judelina  @supertrashbread @fastandcurious16 @widow-cevans  @czennieszn  @irisesinthegarden @wierdflowerpower  @sweetwh0re @reginalaufeyson-holmes @honethatty12 @suns3treading @obxstiles

A/N: The amount of love that everyone has shown me on this fic has been so overwhelming. You all have ignited my passion to create again. Thank you <3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

Oscar stayed at your apartment for 4 days. 

There was a lot to be done; Lily had to arrange housing back in the UK and move her things. At some point, Oscar would have to tell his family. Potentially, an announcement would need to be made on social media. 

It felt like a to-do list, rather than the breaking of what once was something beautiful. Now, just boxes to check off. 

And Oscar wasn’t up to the task of any of it; you couldn’t blame him. It was hard enough for him to eat and sleep, let alone think about the upcoming races or the logistics of the breakup.

You let him talk when he wanted, but as the days between the breakup and the present grew, he seemed to settle. The shock was gone, replaced by a void, a thick grief that weighed down on him like a ton of bricks. There were a lot of quiet moments. 

Of course, you at least made sure that he had his basic needs taken care of. It was the least you could do.

On the afternoon of the fourth night, he got a text from Lily.

I’ve finished moving my stuff. Can you stop by in 15 minutes so I can drop off the keys? 

You read it aloud, because he couldn’t even bear to see her words with his own eyes. He stared at the wall ahead of him.

“Do you want me to go with you?” you asked.

“No,” he said, “I’ll be okay.”

He was silent then, the only sound from him being the jingle of his own keys as he got up to leave your apartment for the first time that week. As he walked out, you exhaled, throwing out a silent wish that he’d be okay seeing her again so soon. 

Oscar made the same wish as he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment that only days before he’d shared with Lily. He felt like a robot in all of his movements; getting out of the car, pressing the elevator button, walking down the hall until he rounded the corner and saw her. 

“Hey,” she greeted him, to which he just gave her a small nod. 

“Here are the keys,” she said, and handed them to him. “I got all my stuff out, so, the apartment is all yours.”

“Where are you going?”

“Back home. For now, at least.” 

“You know you didn’t have to do this. You could have stayed here. Or I could have gotten you a place here in Monaco.”

“Don’t,” Lily said, softly, as if her tone of voice could change anything about the grief that the man before he felt. 

“It didn’t have to be like this, Lily,” he continued. “I told you, I’d quit it all. I’ll go to therapy. Whatever you want.”

“You’re living at her place. You’re sleeping in her bed.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Don’t make this any harder than it already is, Oscar.” Tears welled up in Lily’s eyes. “Let’s just wish each other the best and go on with our lives.”

“Is this really what you want?” Oscar pushed. “You really just want to throw away 5 years? Over what? I can change, Lily—”

“Goodbye, Oscar,” she said, walking away whilst he was still talking. He just watched her form get smaller and smaller down the hallway until she was gone. 

There was nothing he could do but stand there. She wasn’t coming back. 

Back at your apartment, dinner was almost ready. The clock on your phone told you that Oscar had been gone a little longer than anticipated. 

Maybe they were talking. Hell, maybe they had made up and Oscar wouldn’t be coming back. You were never the type to worry so much, but you had to admit that your thoughts were racing a little faster than usual.

That was, until you heard your door knob jiggle and felt the vibration of Oscar’s footsteps through your entryway. You heard him sigh and sink down into the sofa, running his fingers through his hair out of nervousness. 

“Food,” you softly called, walking out of the kitchen with two bowls, handing one to him. He accepted it wordlessly.

“D’you want to put on a movie or something? Or…talk about it?”

He just shook his head. So you obliged him, allowing him to have a quiet dinner.

As you ate, you admired him from across the couch. Even with his tousled hair, eye bags, and hunched shoulders, he was beautiful. And one day his smile would return—that sweet bunny-toothed smile that you had fallen in love with so many years ago. 

Your love for him had changed, though. You’d never have him. You knew that. And some would call it pathetic to stay in a man’s life solely because you loved him, when he didn’t love you in the same way. 

And maybe they were right. But you didn’t need the approval of others. You just needed your friend. 

And from Oscar’s side of the couch, he was thankful for the silence, but he was tortured by his own thoughts. The implication of what Lily had said; you’re sleeping in her bed, as if he had gone straight to you for a comfort beyond just home cooked meals. 

It pissed him off. How could she think so little of him? Accusing him of cheating, getting angry at him for wanting to spend time with his friends? 

Oscar was a man that was slow to anger. But when he got pissed, truly pissed, there was only one thing that really let him get that anger out.

If Lily thought that little of him, then maybe he’d just have to prove how horrible he really was. 

When dinner was done, you silently washed the dishes and cleaned up around the kitchen, stretching the sore muscles in your back and grimacing as they burned with the contractions.

“Your back hurting?” Oscar asked, leaning on the counter as you cleaned.

“A bit, yeah,” you confessed. “It’s fine.”

“I can take the couch tonight.”

“Oh no, you keep the bed. You need it before that flight tomorrow, anyway.” 

“I can sleep on the plane.” He paused. “Or, you know, the bed is big enough to share.”

Your hand paused as you wiped down the counters. You didn’t look up at him. The last time you had shared a bed with Oscar was when you lost your virginity. 

“I think that’s a bad idea.”

“We did it all the time when we were kids.”

“We aren’t kids anymore,” you said, reaching up to put away the clean plates. Your back burned with the stretch of your arms, and you winced. 

“I don’t mean it to be weird,” he said. You let the silence speak for itself. 

But when you were done cleaning up, you glanced at the couch and sighed, knowing that you really, really wanted to sleep in your warm and comfy bed.

So you slipped into the bedroom quietly, not acknowledging Oscar when you got under the covers and turned on your side, exhaling deeply as you felt the soft cushioning mold to the familiar shape of your body. 

Both of you were still awake, unable to sleep with the presence of the other, filling the room with a thick tension. 

“Are you still hurting?” Oscar whispered, laying flat on his back, staring into the void of the ceiling.

You, on the other hand, layed on your side facing away from him, staring into the void of your curtains that were only barely blocking out the light from the city outside. “Yeah,” you answered. 

You heard him shuffle, placing his hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you down to lay with your stomach against the bed. You let him, though the intimacy of the moment was…odd. 

“Trust me,” Oscar assured, as if he could read your thoughts. “Relax.”

You did, letting out a long breath as he began to massage the knots in your back, firmly pressing his strong hands into the dough of your flesh.

He slid his hands under the hem of your shirt, but you did nothing to refuse the contact, having practically turned into a puddle at the relief he brought your soreness. 

But when he was done, he just slid your shirt back down and sat back up in the bed, as if nothing had ever happened.

“Better?” he asked. You gave a strong exhale as you got up and stretched your arms above your head.

“So much better,” you said, giving him a soft smile. 

“I’m sorry for taking your bed.”

“Don’t be.”

“I guess I’ll go back to my place when I get home from Japan,” he said. 

“You can stay here as long as you like,” you assured him. 

“Thank you,” he said. In the darkness, the room was only barely illuminated by the lights of the city, but you could see Oscar's frame sitting before you; his tousled hair, his broad shoulders, his perfectly sharp jawline. 

Then the words came spilling out of you, in a way you couldn’t control. “I’m… so sorry, Oscar. For everything.”

“For what?”

“For ruining your relationship with Lily, for always being in the middle of everything—”

Oscar cut you off by kissing you. That familiar feeling of warmth and safety came to rest in your chest, a strange deja-vu. 

“Oscar…” you whispered as he pulled away.

“You didn’t ruin anything. I wanted you there. Always.”

“Lily thought you were in love with me.”

“I know. She thought you were in love with me, too.”

You paused, looking at him again. You couldn’t see his eyes in the dark, just the faint outline of your face. But the floodgates of your honesty had already been opened. 

“Was she right?” you asked. 

“Was she?” he responded, putting the question back on you. 

You didn’t answer. You loved him. He knew you loved him. You knew that he knew that you loved him. But you couldn’t bear to say it aloud, not knowing whether he’d say it back.

To end the silence, he just kissed you again, deeper this time, holding your waist. But you pulled back.

“We shouldn’t,” you said.

“Why not?” 

“Because you’ll regret it in the morning.”

“No I won’t,” he said, kissing your neck. You inhaled sharply. “Besides, it’s not anything we haven’t done before.”

“You’re not thinking clearly, Oscar.”

“I know what I want.”

You pulled away, catching his eye in a sliver of light that snuck in between the curtains. 

He continued, “I know what you want, too.”

He was right. You wanted him. And if you had really pulled away from him, he would have let you go. But he knew you wouldn’t.

So you let him bring his arms up under your shirt, holding you now with a force that was rougher, more refined, than when you were two nervous teenagers exploring each other’s bodies. 

He quickly pushed you down on the bed, pressing his weight on you as his tongue slipped past your teeth to explore the warmth of your mouth. His hand found yours and he intertwined your fingers, pinning you down with the tender gesture.

His lips roamed down, finding their way to your neck to leave marks as he roughly bit and sucked into the tender flesh, causing you to softly gasp. His unoccupied hand roughly gripped at your thigh, holding onto you with a frenzied lust that you’d never seen before.

All his movements were twinged with this agitated desire, as if your body could take all his anger and frustration away through just his touch. 

His lips left your neck for only a moment, as he freed his hands and removed your shirt, revealing your bare chest, nipples hardened from the cool air in the room. He quickly removed his own shirt and began to fondle you, pawing at one side as he brought his mouth to suck at the other. Your head fell back on the pillow, overwhelmed at the rough sensations—Oscar’s bare skin against yours, the coolness of the room, the warmth of his wanting. 

His breath got more ragged as you felt his hardness pressing against you, the full extent of his longing held back only by the fabric of his sweatpants. It wasn’t like years ago, hesitant and gentle. Now, he was dark and still devoid of any love. 

But love was the furthest thing from your mind right now, your body overwhelmed with the sensation of Oscar’s hand around your neck, his fingers pressing down the side to keep you still as his other hand moved lower down to the hem of your shorts. 

He slid his hand under your panties, finding your pussy, slick and already craving him. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet already,” Oscar murmured. 

All you could do was whimper as his fingers teased your entrance and he went back to kissing up and down your neck. It was like he couldn’t waste a second with your body, or else the reality of what you all were doing would catch up to him. 

But neither of you were thinking of anything other than the growing lust you had for the other as his fingers pumped in and out of you, filling the quiet room with sinful noises.

“Fuck, Oscar,” you said, your voice breathy. “Slow down.”

“Why?” he questioned, obeying your request anyway. “You can’t handle it, huh? How are you gonna take it when I fuck you?”

“Osc…” you exhaled. All you could do was moan his name as he sped back up. 

“No, you can take it, can’t you?” he taunted, his fingers sprinting in and out of you, hitting that perfect spot inside of you that made your stomach burn with pleasure. 

“Yes,” you whispered between breaths.

“Good girl,” he said, curling his thumb to circle your clit as he pumped his fingers faster, causing you to see stars.

The praise and the sweet burn of his touch pushed you over the edge. You threw your head back on the pillow and let out a low moan as you clenched around his fingers.

You felt him grab your chin with one hand, taking his other from your dripping pussy and forcing his fingers in your mouth. You instinctively closed your mouth around him, curling your tongue along the digits, tasting your own cum on his fingers.

His eyes traced the edges of your lips as he pulled his hand away and kissed you, mingling tastes until you forgot where you stopped and he began. 

He pulled away and removed the last layers of clothing until you both were bare, shielded only by the darkness of your room.

There was no love making, no tenderness, just animalistic desire, as he wasted no time putting on a condom and sliding himself inside you with a long groan. 

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” he said, leaning his weight on you as he stuffed you with every inch, filling you with the sweet burn of pleasure. “Yeah, you can take it, can’t you?”

You didn’t answer, instead balling up the sheets in your fist as he fucked you. To hold him would be too intimate.

He closed his eyes and buried his head in the pillows next to you as he desperately rutted into you, taking it slow to savor every second of blissful escape that your body could give him. You could hear every frenzied noise that escaped his mouth, and you responded in turn, doing nothing to hold back the sounds that rose from your stomach to your throat and passed through your lips. 

“Oscar,” you breathed, “I’m close.” With every movement, the knot in your stomach threatened to release, flooding your body with pleasure. 

Oscar sped up his pace, chasing his own release more than yours. Still, you broke, coming apart beneath him, shuddering as he continued to press in and out of you. 

It wasn’t long until his own moans increased in pitch and intensity, signifying that he was nearing the edge. You rocked forward on him, fucking him as he fucked you, getting him closer quicker. The sweet friction of your bodies was too much; he pulled out and removed the condom, pumping his length furiously. He bit his lip and groaned expletives, cumming on your stomach, painting your skin with the evidence of your lust. 

Oscar’s breath slowed as he rummaged around for his discarded clothing, handing you a towel to clean up. As he almost immediately re-dressed, you felt…exposed. Self-conscious. As if this wasn’t your best friend, the man you’d given your virginity to so many years ago.

You felt… used. 

Even after you had dressed yourself, and both of you had turned opposite each other to get some rest, the feeling didn’t go away. Because, after all, hadn’t you used him, too?

I know what you want, he had said. You had wanted this—at least, in theory. But now, days after the love of Oscar’s life had left him heartbroken? 

No, not this. This couldn’t be what you wanted. But then why had he been right? 

Oscar may have said that he wouldn’t regret it, but you definitely were already.

You fell into a tense sleep, only to be awoken by Oscar’s alarm a few hours later. He groaned and slapped his hand over your nightstand to shut it off, grumbling as he turned back over and buried his face in the pillow.

You sat up, giving up on a good night’s rest, and went to the kitchen to make some tea and watch the sunrise from your balcony. You could hear Oscar from the bedroom, groaning as his snooze went off for the second time and he heaved himself out of bed. 

You wordlessly handed him a mug and walked out of the kitchen to the balcony. It was too early in the morning; there would be no sunrise for another hour or so. You sighed. 

“Aren’t you cold?” Oscar asked as he walked up behind you, mug in hand. 

“I wanted to watch the sunrise. Didn’t realize it was still so early.” You took a sip.

“You’ll get sick if you stay out here too long.” 

You hummed, relishing the warmth of the mug between your fingers. He was right—it was freezing. 

“When are you flying out?” he asked. 

“I’m not,” you said, staring off into the water in the distance. You took another sip. “They’ve got that new guy doing the photos this weekend.”

“You should,” Oscar said, walking forward to lean on the balcony next to you. The closeness felt like a mockery after the distance you’d felt hours before.

You let out a chuckle. “I think the new guy probably cried when we told him he’d get to do Japan. I can’t take that away from him.”

“I meant, like, with me.”

It wouldn’t be the first time, nor the last, that you’d gone to a grand prix as a personal guest of Oscar’s. It was something that shouldn’t be weird at all. Then why did it feel so wrong?

“I just…don’t wanna be alone,” he said as he turned his head to look at you, but you avoided his gaze.

‘I don’t know, we’re already behind on the merch orders—”

“You can work remotely.”

“Not from the pit wall,” you said, a faint smile tracing the edges of your lips.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re stubborn?” he teased. A smile came to his lips—the first smile you’d seen in days. 

“Never,” you said, your voice dripping in sarcasm.

“Well, if you wanna turn down authentic sushi and seeing your favorite McLaren driver, be my guest.”

You cringed at the reference—ever since Lily had tried to set you up with Lando, you and Oscar had jokingly started referring to him as “your favorite McLaren driver,” even though you both avoided each other like the plague due to the awkwardness of it all. 

But authentic sushi sounded great. 

“You drive a hard bargain, Osc,” you laughed. 

“And I drive an even better Formula 1 car. Which you could see, in Japan,” he joked, tilting his head and raising his eyebrows in that familiar dry expression.

Oscar felt…normal again. And yes, you had been so busy tending to him that you had fallen behind on your work. But it was worth it, to banter with your best friend again, even if only for a moment.

“Fine,” you acquiesced. “You got me. Let me inside so I can pack, it is fucking freezing out here.”

One torturously long flight later, you were checking into a hotel in Japan with Oscar.  

Since the trip had been planned so late—your ticket literally bought over the phone in the Uber on the way to the airport—the hotel was fully booked by F1 employees. You and Oscar would have to share a room. 

Your stomach sank at the realization, as if you hadn’t slept with him the night before anyway. 

Up in the room, as he unpacked a few of his belongings, Oscar’s phone rang. You glanced at the caller ID: Mum.

He saw it too, but ignored it, continuing to set out his clothes for the next morning. 

But your phone rang, too, the same name and number, even the same caller ID. Nicole was practically your mom anyways.

“Do you want me to answer it?” you asked, and Oscar sighed.

“I haven’t told her yet.”

“I figured.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it. Not even with her.” He slung a shirt over his shoulder, walking towards the bathroom.

“She’s not gonna stop until she gets one of us on the phone.”

“I know.”

“Do you want me to lie?

“No,” he began. He knew you. You could pull off a small white lie if you really had to, but it tortured you inside. He wouldn’t ask that of you. “I guess… do you mind telling her? I just don’t have it in me.”

“I can.”

“Thank you,” he said, giving you a flat smile, a genuine attempt at thankfulness. You just nodded and took a deep breath as you heard the shower knob turn and water droplets crash against the floor.

You called Nicole back.

“Hello, darling,” she began. “How are you?”

“I’m alright. A bit jet lagged,” you admitted.

“Where are you off to now?” she joked, a smile surely on her face.

“I’m in Japan with Oscar, actually. Kinda last minute.”

“Ah,” she said. “Are you with him now?”

“No,” you lied, unable to admit that you were currently sharing a room with her son. “I can pass it along, though?”

“Oh no, I was just wondering how he was doing.”

“Well, I can tell you, he’s not great, unfortunately. Erm… he and Lily broke up.”

“Oh, God…” she sighed, “That’s horrible.”

“Yeah,” you replied, unsure of what else to say. “I’m not entirely sure what happened. I guess they just weren’t happy anymore. He’s heartbroken, though. So, if it seems like he’s avoiding your calls, that’s why.”

“You know, I figured something was wrong. Things were just…off, when you all were here, weren’t they?” 

Your heart rate increased. “Yeah, I guess they were.”

“Can I ask you something, YN?”

“Of course.”

“Did you know anything about this?” Her tone wasn’t at all accusatory or scandalous; as usual, she was kind.

“I mean, I knew they were having some problems. I think Lily wanted them to spend more time together. I never thought it’d end, though.”

Nicole hummed. She knew you couldn’t quite tell her the full truth. There was something deeper there, something from far before your visit to the Piastri family home. She’d get it from you eventually. 

‘Well, I’m sure you all are busy in Japan, so I won’t hold you any longer. But tell Oscar I love him and to call me when he’s ready. And I love you too, YN.”

“Love you, Mum,” you said as you hung up the call. Her voice felt like a warm hug through the phone. 

As if on cue, Oscar came out of the shower, the white towel wrapped around his waist leaving little to the imagination. He roughly tousled his wet hair in a smaller towel. God, he looked good. If it were up to you, you’d push him back on the bed and fuck him right then and there.

But something felt…wrong. You’d been with him just the night before, but an unfamiliar guilt had made its way inside of your chest and made a home there.

It didn’t make sense. You, not Oscar, had warned against it; he had worn down your carefully built defenses, the ones you’d meticulously created over the years, until no excuse could protect you from the truth anymore. Yes, you wanted him. You had wanted him for years. Every second that he had been with Lily, you had wanted him for yourself. 

But you had never done anything about it. Always been respectful, reading the room, leaving when you knew you weren’t wanted. You hadn’t done anything until she finally left—and did you have every right to, then?

You guessed so. Then why did it now feel so fucking wrong?

Oscar’s voice broke you out of your spiraling. “What did she say?”

“She just wanted to check up on you. I told her.” He hummed in response. “She was asking me about it, but I didn’t really know how much you wanted to share. She just said she loves you and to give her a call when you can.”

“Thank you. For… doing that. I’m sure it was awkward.”

“It was fine,” you lied. It had been incredibly awkward—you could sense that Nicole suspected you were far more involved in the breakup than you had admitted to being. But was it really your fault? What had you done wrong? You continued, “It’s the least I can do.”

Oscar got quiet then, thinking about what, you’d never know. 

“Well, I guess I promised you sushi?”

“That you did,” you replied. You were more thankful for a break in the awkward silence than the promise of dinner.

So you ended up at Oscar’s favorite hole in the wall sushi restaurant in Japan, as if nothing in the world was amiss. 

Still, the feeling of something being deeply wrong, though now shoved to the back of your mind, wouldn’t leave you alone. It was odd—there had never been an F1 race in which Oscar and Lily weren’t together. Of course, she couldn’t come to every race, and with you working for him, you often ended up in positions similar to this.

But it felt like your entire world had been tinged a bizarre shade of blue, like Lily’s absence was a grief that you felt too, though you two had never been particularly close. And if you could even feel this crushing weight of her absence, you didn’t even want to begin imagining what Oscar felt. 

So, you’d have to excuse the awkwardness, the quiet moments, and even his concerning desire for you last night. He must be losing his mind. 

All of this, while also attempting to keep up the appearance of normalcy; he snapped a photo of you throwing up a peace sign and posted it to his close friends story, playing as if nothing was amiss. 

As you ate, his phone vibrated. A message from Lando. 

Oh, you all didn’t invite me? I see how it is. 

The message, dripping with Lando’s usual cocky sarcasm, was typical of the Brit. On any other day, Oscar would have smiled to himself and playfully rolled his eyes at his teammate’s antics. Today, though, the message only brought forth a flood of frustration. 

In the midst of Oscar’s heartbreak, something darker had been brewing; a championship battle.

He knew it was too early in the season to call. It was only the third race, and McLaren was known for the teamwork between himself and Lando. But Oscar was nothing if not competitive. You had to be, to get this far in F1. 

His legacy so far has been polite teamwork. Papaya rules, or whatever the fuck the strategists wanted to call it. Getting gifted wins by Lando or giving him the wins that Oscar rightfully deserved—he was willing to do it, of course, for the team. But he couldn’t be sidelined forever in favor of the golden boy of Formula 1. 

So Oscar knew that this would be his season. Lando had a close call in the 2024 season with Max Verstappen and was being hailed as the favorite for this year’s championship. But Oscar was determined. Oscar had nothing left to lose. 

He was getting that championship if it killed him. And that meant that there was no more room for friends.

Oscar opened the message, just to get the notification bubble to go away, annoyed by the friendly pestering of his competitor. He left Lando on seen.

But Lando wouldn’t let his teammate get away from him that easily. 

“Hey, Oscar,” he yelled ahead of him, as they walked into the paddock the next morning for media day. “Morning, you muppet,” he said, playfully clapping Oscar on the back. 

“Morning,” Oscar murmured. 

“Tired?” he asked. Oscar nodded. “Well, makes sense, because you were so busy going out without me. And then you had the nerve to leave me on read.”

Lando’s tone was clearly playful, but Oscar was still having none of it. “We got sushi.”

“Ewww. But as your unofficial fourth wheel, I still would have appreciated an invite.”

“It was just me and YN,” Oscar said, absentmindedly fiddling in his bag for his ID. He had truly been tired—too tired to really organize his bag before he left the hotel this morning. 

“Ah. Well,” Lando smiled, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, “wouldn’t want to interrupt that.”

Oscar looked up, making an unamused face at Lando. “What are you saying?”

“What? I know a side chick when I see one. But that’s none of my business, I know when to keep my mouth shut.” 

Oscar yanked his pass out of his bag, zipping it up aggressively. “YN isn’t my side chick.”

“You’re in a sour mood. Did you not sleep well or something?”

Oscar wanted nothing more than for Lando to leave him alone. “No, I didn’t. Lando, you know we’re not friends, right?”

“Sure we are.”

“Outside of the track, maybe. But I’m here to beat you. Not invite you out to sushi.” 

“Oscar, you’ve got to relax. You’re letting all this get to your head, mate.”

“I have somewhere to be,” Oscar said, abruptly ending the exchange there.

Lando wasn’t offended. He knew that when stakes were high, you said things you didn’t mean—God knows he had done that himself too many times to count. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something beyond just the stresses of Formula 1 racing that was causing Oscar’s hostility. 

Contrary to what one might think, Oscar was actually very easy to read. And it hadn’t exactly been top secret that he and Lily were having issues. Maybe Lando had just hit a nerve with the implication that Oscar had been unfaithful. 

But was he so wrong? To any outside viewer it seemed plain as day that there was something between you and Oscar that Lily seemed in denial about—at least, she had been, until Lando was caught in the crossfire during the Italy trip. 

God, the Italy trip. He cringed just thinking about it. Even after clearing the air with you, he just felt so…disgusting. Not at you, but at himself, the way he had dismissed you as if you were meaningless. But what else was he meant to do, when Lily had pushed you far beyond your comfort zone, and he knew you didn’t want anything like that with him?

He hoped that you wouldn’t hold it against him. He certainly wouldn’t hold whatever Oscar was dealing with against him. 

And that was fortunate, because Oscar’s foul mood followed him throughout the day, and into the next morning too. It was like the Aussie was followed by his own personal raincloud of annoyance, unable to escape his own thoughts. 

He was quickly learning that, even at Formula 1 speeds, he couldn’t outrun his heartbreak.

But it wasn’t sadness that he felt. It was anger. It was determination. It was a giant fuck you to everyone and no one in particular. Gone was the polite cat, the veneer of civility and sportsmanship. He needed to win, just to feel something again. 

Sessions one and two of free practice seemed promising. The third session was even better. 

But before qualifying, he felt that now all too familiar feeling bubbling up within him. The pressure to perform.

He needed to get pole. He needed it. 

In the paddock, he passed the commentators box. He could hear them talking about him. 

“For this afternoon’s qualifying session, all eyes are on Oscar Piastri! The McLaren driver had an amazing 2024 season, and so far this year, he’s already clenched a home win. But, somehow, he has never secured pole position at any Formula 1 Grand Prix qualifying session, only having done it for two sprint races. Compared to his teammate Lando Norris, who has historically dominated qualifying…”

He couldn’t listen any longer. 

He stomped back to his driver’s room, the words spinning in his head. It wasn’t just the commentators. It was Lando, it was the crowds, it was Lily. 

No. Not now. 

He grabbed his phone and sent a text.

You were oblivious to all of this, having spent Thursday and Friday in the hotel catching up on all your work that couldn’t be ignored for any longer. You’d come to the track today to support Oscar, and to help the new guy, who you had quickly realized most definitely wasn’t ready to be working an entire grand prix weekend on his own. 

But as you once again reminded him of the most basic functions of spell check on Instagram captions, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. A text from Oscar. 

Come to my room.

A second message.

I need you. 

You felt your heart drop. Even if you didn’t know the details of what exactly Oscar was feeling, you could tell that it was slowly eating away at him, making him a shell of his former self.

In the few days since your last night together in Monaco, you had kept your distance, unsure of where you stood since that one regretful night. But soon, you’d find out exactly what Oscar needed from you.

You practically sprinted to his driver’s room, only knocking once before he opened the door, his face just as flushed as yours. He peeked his head out, looked both ways to ensure the hallway was clear, and pulled you by the waist into the room.

He closed the door and locked it.

In one motion, he grabbed your waist, pushing you against the wall and overwhelming your senses with a fierce kiss. 

You were left breathless as he refused to let you go, bringing his free hand to your chin to hold you still against him. His kiss deepened, devouring your taste, as if he’d never get another chance again. 

When he finally did pull back, you could see his eyes clouded with wanting, looking you up and down like he’d die if he didn’t get more of you.

“Oh, “ you exhaled. “That’s what you needed.”

“Is this okay?”

You swallowed back your nervousness at his loaded question. “Yeah. Just wasn’t expecting it.” 

“Sorry,” he apologized. “I just can’t fucking drive like this.”

You both held your breath as you heard a set of footsteps approaching, then fading off into the distance. 

“We don’t have time. Can you do something for me?”

You nodded at him, your innocent eyes staring at him with anticipation. God, you were fucking perfect. And he was going to ruin you, right here and now. 

“On your knees,” he commanded, and you obeyed. 

He gently pulled your hair back before wrapping around his hands in a fist, pulling you back to look at him. “You’re so good for me,” he cooed.

But that was the end of his gentleness. He was going to prove to you how much he needed you.

You started slow, taking as much of him into your mouth as you could, sinfully dragging your tongue along his sensitive tip. But there was no time for teasing. 

He held your head and pushed into the back of your throat, letting out a soft, low groan as the blissful feeling of your lips around him. 

“That’s it, love. You can take it, right?” he teased, and you let out a muffled “mhm” as an answer, your mouth being preoccupied with much…bigger things. 

“Yeah, you take me so well, you’re so good for me,” he said, pushing your head back and forth to guide your rhythm. “Like you were made for me.”

You couldn’t help the gagging noises that came out of your mouth as you pressed your hands into his thighs for support. He hit the back of your throat, and you felt your eyes roll back from the relentless pace.

“Good little whore,” he said, his voice wavering from pleasure. “Letting me fuck your mouth in public, whenever I need it. God, fuck—”

You dug your nails into your thighs as you took every inch of him one last time, until you felt the sweet stickiness of his release coating the back of your throat. He let out one final groan as he let down your hair and fixed his race suit.

You swallowed and wiped your mouth as Oscar leaned down to kiss your cheek, an odd tenderness after the intensity of your encounter. 

“I’ll see you back at the hotel, yeah?” he asked, and you just nodded as he walked out the door. 

You watched from inside the paddock as Oscar got his first pole position. 

Neither of the McLaren boys won the grand prix, though. Max Verstappen, in usual fashion, had to remind everyone who was the 4 time world champion and who were the two children in comparison, fighting over the shiny toy of a trophy. 

A double papaya podium was good, though. That’s what you thought, at least. You’d hadn’t talked racing with Oscar in a while, knowing that it caused him more harm than good to be constantly reminded of the stakes at hand. 

But after the grand prix, you couldn’t stay with him for the next two races of the triple header. You had truly been neglecting your work in favor of being there for Oscar, and you needed to focus to catch up on all the beginning of season chaos. 

So, having sufficiently trained the new guy to hold down the fort in your absence, you reluctantly went home to Monaco.

But on the road, your absence hit Oscar like a ton of bricks. 

He couldn’t focus. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t eat. He paced the lobby of expensive hotels like a zombie. Everything was just…wrong. 

Oscar had always been the type who didn’t like to be alone. That wasn’t new. But this…thing, that felt like it was tearing him apart from the inside? He couldn’t name it. 

You could, though. It was heartbreak.

“I miss you,” he admitted, his voice quiet on the other side of the phone. It was the middle of the night in Bahrain, but you were just laying down for bed. 

“I miss you too, Osc, but you’ve got to get some sleep.”

“I can’t. It’s too quiet here.”

“Why don’t you put on some music?”

“It’s just… not the same.”

You sighed, empathetic for your struggling best friend. “What do you usually do when you’re alone on race weekends?”

There had been plenty of weekends where neither you nor Lily were in attendance, but those days seemed foreign to him now. “I don’t even fucking remember.”

“I’m so sorry, Osc. Do you wanna…talk about it?”

He knew the “it” you were referring to. The more accurate pronoun would be “her.”

“No,” he said, the word feeling final and solid. “But has anyone asked about it?”

“No,” you echoed. “You’ll have to tell them eventually. People can tell that you’re not doing too well.”

“Great,” he sighed. 

“If anyone asks, I can tell them.”

“Thank you.” He paused. “I think I’m gonna sell the apartment. Get another one.”

“It might be nice to have a new start.”

“Yeah,” he continued, “I just don’t even want to go back there. But I know I can’t keep hogging your place.”

“You can stay with me as long as you need, Osc.”

“I’d rather you stay with me. The guest room is practically yours already, anyways.”

“I could do that,” you said. 

“Are you sure you can’t come out for Saudi Arabia?”

“I wish I could. But your fans order too much merch and we’re drowning in orders,” you laughed. 

“Good problem to have.”

“Yeah.”

The silence on the lines was thick, an electric current running through the fragile stability of what was unspoken. The breakup, all the emotions he had refused to talk about since it happened, and the…new hobby the two of you had been indulging in. At some point it would have to be addressed.

But not now. Oscar yawned, “This is awful. I’m exhausted all the time but I can’t sleep.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. It was all you could say; it was true. 

“Will you stay on the line until I fall asleep?”

“Of course.” You could never say no to him, even though you knew you should be focused on getting your own sleep. It was an unusual power that Oscar had over you; if anyone else asked this much of you, you would have left them a long time ago. But Oscar? You wished that you could do nothing more than hold him until it didn’t hurt anymore. 

But, for now, you’d have to settle for talking him to sleep from a few thousand miles away. And, evidenced by his soft snoring, it was working wonders. 

In the days before his return, it seemed like Oscar’s anxiety was rubbing off on you, even from so far away.

You couldn’t hardly sleep, always anticipating his call or texts in the odd hours of the night. You settled into an uneasy routine in his absence, your schedule practically becoming his so you were always available to call or watch his races. 

On the surface, it wasn’t unusual; plenty of fans woke themselves up at ungodly hours to watch every interview or free practice session. But in light of everything else, it felt like more of a commitment. 

And the fact that Oscar wanted you to essentially live with him in his Monaco apartment when he got back? Again, it shouldn’t be so odd. You would live with the Piastri family for months at a time when you were younger and your parents traveled for work. 

But you knew this time it was just different. You knew you couldn’t get attached to this new life you had already begun to settle into. At some point Oscar would heal from his heartbreak, and things would go back to normal.

How could life continue as normal, though, with Lily being gone? She was so integral to the fabric of both of your lives that neither of you could imagine one without her in it. 

It was this topic that came up the night before the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix, on a facetime call with your best friend. 

You hadn’t pushed him to talk, knowing that he’d come to you when he really needed it—and he did.

“I just…I hate being on the road, but I don’t want to go back. Being in Monaco without her just feels wrong.”

“I know. It’s weird for me too.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just, you all were endgame, you know? I never imagined this would happen.”

He hummed, clearly not expecting that answer. 

“I didn’t either,” he responded. “I know you said it would get better, but I can’t imagine it right now. How did you do this?”

“You want the truth?” you asked. He shifted in bed, bringing his arms up under his head to lay on them, like a child curled up next to his mother.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think I ever really loved any of my exes. I was just trying to convince myself that I did.”

“I don’t believe that. Not after how devastated you were when you found out about the last one.”

You huffed at the nickname ‘the last one.’ After you discovered that your ex had cheated on you. Oscar was still so pissed that he refused to call him by his name.

“No, I didn’t love him. I think I was more upset about the fact that I had finally convinced myself that I did love him, and then he did that. I thought it was finally over, like…it was a game I had won. I tried to stay because I didn’t want to start all over with someone else. But I realized it was a waste of time, so I might as well just stay single.”

“YN, that’s…really sad, actually.”

“I guess,” you said, smiling and exhaling. “But you live and move on, right?” Through your screen you saw the faint sheen of teardrops on Oscar’s eyes. You looked away.

You continued, “But it’s different for you and Lily. You all really loved each other. I don’t know how you heal from that.”

“I don’t either.” He sniffled. “You’ve really never been in love?”

“That’s… it’s complicated.”

Even from a screen thousands of miles away, the implication of your statement was unmistakable. But you didn’t want to go there. Not now. 

Someday, maybe. Someday you would be able to tell Oscar directly to his face that you had been in love with him for nearly a decade.

But first, he had to come home. 

When he landed in the airport in Nice and caught an Uber to his apartment in Monaco, heartfelt confessions of love were the last thing on his mind.

Lando had won the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. Oscar was now losing. 

He couldn’t win them all. It was the beginning of the season. He was going through a rough time. All these excuses swirled around his mind. And that’s what they were—excuses. He hadn’t performed. He needed to be better.

He didn’t want to be better right now, though. He wanted to go home and collapse in his bed and sleep for a week straight. But his apartment would be cold and empty without Lily there.

Well, at least he’d have you.

And since you knew coming back would be hard for him, you had gone out of your way to make his homecoming easier. Using your spare key, you moved a few things into the guest room, did his laundry, lightly cleaned up, and had his favorite dinner set up and ready on the table with a lit candle rounding out the cozy scene. 

He thought he might cry tears of joy when he walked in and saw what you had done. 

Still, it was…different. When he would come home to Lily the house felt more lived in. Now it was clean and cozy, but too much so, evidence that the once binding force of the apartment’s atmosphere was gone.��

He wasn’t complaining though. Few people were lucky enough to come home to a clean home and a warm meal made by someone who loved them. And after the dinner, he certainly wanted to make his appreciation known.

“The least I can do is return the favor,” Oscar said, leaning against the wall behind you as you cleaned up the remnants of the meal. 

You playfully scoffed. “Since when do you cook or clean?”

“That’s not what I meant,” he said, wrapping his arm around your waist and bringing his lips to your neck.

“Um…oh,” you exhaled, unsure of what to make of his advance, but nevertheless relishing his touch. 

“You’ve just been so good to me,” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers up your spine.

“I’m just…being a good friend.” Your voice was breathy and tense.

“Do you not want to?” he asked, spinning you around to look at him.

“Well I just—” you exhaled, looking away from him. God, yes, you wanted him. Under eye bags and messy hair, depression and vulnerability, you wanted all of him. “In your apartment?”

“Would you rather I fuck you out on the street?” he joked. You would have smiled wider if you didn’t know that he was intentionally dodging the implications of your question. 

You couldn’t not bring it up, though. “In her apartment? In her bed?”

Oscar’s expression got colder. “It’s my apartment. She took all her shit and left.”

“It just feels wrong. I mean, Oscar, what are we doing?” You hadn’t intended for this conversation to happen now, but you both knew it was inevitable. 

“What we are doing is talking, when there are far better things our mouths could be occupied with,” he answered. “But if you don’t want to, that’s fine.”

He pulled his arm away from your waist and turned away from you, but you couldn’t bear it. The thought of him sleeping alone broke your heart.

So you pulled his arm back and hissed him rough. He pushed you back into the counter, asserting dominance, as one hand came up to wrap itself around your neck and the other snaked its way underneath your shirt. 

“Jump,” he instructed, and you hopped up onto the counter and he took off your skirt and panties before spreading your legs apart. 

“I owe you one, no?” he teased before his mouth found your clit and sucked.

“Fuck, Osc,” you said, putting a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans.

“Stop that,” he said, pulling your hand down before bringing his lips back down to your pussy. 

“Osc, I’m trying to be quiet and you’re making that….very difficult,” you said. 

“Quiet? If the neighbors aren’t putting in noise complaints after I’m done with you, then I’m doing something wrong,” he laughed.

You all never made it to the bedroom, too caught up in the moment to even move a few rooms away. He fucked you right there on the counter, whispering filthy nothings in your ear.

“My perfect little toy, aren’t you? Disgusting little girl,” he moaned. “Wanted me so bad you couldn’t even make it to the bedroom. How long have you wanted me to fuck you like this? Days? Weeks? Years?”

You couldn’t even respond, too lost in the heavenly feeling of him filling you with every inch. 

“God, you’re fucking filthy. I know how badly you wanted this, for so long. Fuck,” he moaned, “I’ll take care of it now. Just let go, cum for me.”

You obeyed.

But later that night, as he slept next to you, his words haunted you. It wasn’t the degradation—you liked that—but the deeper implication. He fucked you on the counter that he and Lily had once made dinner on together. You slept in her bed, next to her boyfriend. And he knew that you had wanted him so badly for so long. He teased you with it.

But you had never done anything, right? Oscar was right—he wasn’t her boyfriend, he was her ex. This wasn’t her apartment, not anymore at least. She had left.

Then why didn’t the guilt that was now eating you alive leave with her?

That guilt, powerful as it was, wasn’t enough to keep you from fucking Oscar on every surface of that God-forsaken apartment. You both were insatiable, and soon enough, the sounds of your pleasure echoed through every room, every day. 

Her counter. Her kitchen table. Her couch. Her shower. Her bed. 

The entire place, though now devoid of her belongings, was still Lily’s. And you were defiling it.

But you couldn’t stop. The feeling of Oscar’s hands wrapped around you, his lips on yours, was like a drug. You had waited so fucking long to have him—in every place, in every way. So why did it make you feel like you were going to puke every time you thought about it for too long?

And the question that you and Oscar were still avoiding hung thick in the air. 

What are we doing? The unanswerable question still haunted you.

As good as his touch felt, you knew it was wrong. And eventually, you’d have to talk.

It seemed that you weren’t the only one with that question.

After another night tangled between the sheets with Oscar, he checked his phone. A call from his mother. Fuck.

He had been avoiding her for weeks now. He couldn’t do it any longer.

While you cleaned up in the shower, he finally gathered up the courage and called her back.

“Hi mum,” he greeted as she immediately answered.

“Well hello, son. It’s nice to finally hear from you,” Nicole replied, her voice tinged with annoyed sarcasm.

“I’m sorry. There’s just been a lot going on.”

“I know. I talked to YN a while ago.”

“Yeah, I told her she could tell you. She’s, um, been helping me out a lot lately.”

“That’s good. How is she doing?”

“Oh, great,” he said. It was true. Oscar was making sure you were well taken care of, to say the least. 

“Been spending a lot of time with her?” his mother asked, bringing his thoughts back down to earth. 

“Yeah, she’s been helping me a lot with the apartment. I’m probably gonna sell it, but all the paperwork is ridiculous. I don’t have the time of energy for any of it,” he sighed.

“That’s not what I was getting at, Oscar.” He could hear his mother’s frown through the phone. 

“What?”

“You seem to have her around quite a lot for a man who’s newly single, don’t you?”

“It’s not like that, mum.”

“Oscar, do not lie to me.”

He sighed. “God, mum, I am not with YN! I would never do that. She’s just a friend. Besides, I don’t think I ever want to date again.” 

From behind the closed door of the bathroom, you heard him. You stopped in your tracks.

Nicole refused to give it up. “I raised you better than this, Oscar.”

“Seriously, mum?”

“Under the assumption that you’re being entirely honest, which I know for a fact you’re not, you know damn well how that girl feels about you.”

“How are YN’s feelings my problem?” Your ear pressed to the bathroom door, you heard every word. You thought your legs were going to give out. 

“Son, I know you must be heartbroken. But don’t do that to her.”

“I’m not doing anything. And thanks for asking how I’m doing, mum. A scolding is actually the perfect thing I need after the love of my life just up and left me a month ago.”

“Don’t get that tone with me—”

“I’ve got to go.”

“Fine. Do you think you’ll be able to come home at all before the summer?”

“I don’t know, mum. I’ll call you later.” 

The two hung up the call, and you heard Oscar huff as he put his phone back on the nightstand. You didn’t want to come out of the bathroom. In fact, you didn’t even want to be in this apartment, or the principality of Monaco, or on the same planet as Oscar Piastri right now.

But where else would you go? Your own apartment, the one that he had purchased? Back to his family’s house in Australia?

Where else was home?

Once, you had hoped that home would be Oscar’s arms. All you wanted now was to be held by him. But there was never much tenderness from him after your lovemaking. He always just turned over to the other side of the bed and fell asleep.

And that’s what he did now, clearly grumbling to himself about the phone call, though you didn’t say anything about what you’d heard. 

You sighed, a noise of frustration rather than contention. Oscar just ignored you.

You grabbed your own phone off the nightstand, hoping to distract yourself in work or endless scrolling.

But while Oscar didn’t want to talk to you, it seemed someone else did. Your eyes glanced over the screen:

Accept message request from Lando_Norris?

[wwooyology]

Scream For Me | Y.JW

「paring」 : ghostface!bf!jungwon x fem!reader 「word count」 : 4.4k

「synopsis」 : word of a masked serial killer spreads like wildfire in your small town, but it never fully sets in until you come face-to-face with the very killer who just so happens to be your sweet boyfriend and he has an ulterior motive.

「genre」 : pure smut with some plot, horror/thriller, angst, serial killer au

「warning」 : jungwon is a killer, blood, dom!jungwon x sub!reader, knife play, cursing, fingering, petnames (baby, princess, my love, slut), won is MEAN, messy, oral (f. receiving), jungwon is kinda manipulative in the beginning, degradation, dacryphilia, choking, minor hair pulling, making out, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), thigh riding, teasing, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, begging, marking, breeding kink, creampie, passing out, slight manhandling, I feel like I def missed a few things, pls lmk!

「note」 : so I kinda went a little crazy with this one... this has been a serious brainrot so I hope you enjoy it! also, it's only been lightly edited!

The room suddenly felt ten times colder than it did just moments before, your heart was racing and you could hear it through your ears. Your phone was tightly clutched in your hand as your eyes scanned all of the windows in your house, his words still ringing in your head.

“It’s such a shame, a pretty thing like you left your doors unlocked…”

Word of a serial killer in your small town had gotten to you, but you never really thought much of it because, of course, you were always with your boyfriend. However, the one night that he had family matters to attend to was the very night this killer decided to make his move.

Tears had already pooled in your eyes, terror filling your veins. The person had used a voice changer so it wasn’t like you could try to figure out who it was by their voice. You stood in your kitchen racking your brain for possibilities on who this masked killer could be, all while your front door creaked open quietly.

The sound of your floorboards creaking caught your attention, head turned in the direction of the noise. Without a second thought, you started slowly walking down the hall. It was almost like the fear had made you lose all your common sense, doing things you swore you’d never do while watching horror movies. 

“Hello?” Your meek voice called out, bouncing off of the empty halls, gaining no response besides a small echo of your own voice. 

A scream tore through your throat as a vase next to you fell and shattered, glass fragments scattering all around your bare feet. Looking down with wide, teary eyes, you try to tiptoe around the broken shards without cutting yourself. 

‘What did I do to deserve this…?’

The tears finally spilled from your eyes as you made it to the end of the hall, seeing your front door wide open. This was actually going to be the end, wasn’t it? You’d never get to finish school like you planned, you’d never get to hang out with your friends anymore, see your parents at dinner, or volunteer at the animal shelter with Jungwon. Jungwon. Oh, how you wish you could talk to your sweet boyfriend one last time, tell him that everything would be okay and that you love him.

You were torn from your thoughts as a loud crash was heard from upstairs causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. Cries fell from your lips as you looked between the open door and the stairs, debating on whether you should just run for it.

‘Why the fuck am I even asking that?’ 

You turn, making your way to the front door, however, before you could step through the threshold you heard a voice.

“Y/n? Baby?” 

Your heart dropped at the sound of your boyfriend's voice, why is he here? Turning away from the door, hands trembling as you reached for the railing of the stairs. “Won?” Your voice cracked as you tried peeking up the stairs, but saw nothing.

“Baby, help me please.” He sounded like he was on the verge of tears and it broke you, tears streaming down your face, sobs falling from your lips. 

Whether it was the fear or the need to save your boyfriend you turn and go back down the hallway, stepping over the glass once more. As if luck wasn’t on your side at all, you ended up stepping on a stray piece of glass causing a sharp pain to shoot up your leg. A loud cry left your lips as you leaned against a wall, the phone falling from your hand.

Tears continued to stream down your flushed face as you grabbed your foot to look at the damage done. Biting your lip you grab the shard before pulling it from your foot, a trail of crimson blood following after it.

Another crash from upstairs reminded you of the situation once more and you scrambled to the kitchen, straight to the knife stand. Grabbing one of the bigger knives, your hands trembling as you made your way back to the stairs, walking through the living room so as to not step on any more glass. 

You call out for your boyfriend once more as you take the steps slowly, leaving a trail of red behind you. However, you were met with silence.

Terror struck you as you got to the top of the step, there were boot prints on the ground that you hadn’t noticed before, leading straight to your bedroom. Holding the knife defensively in front of you, hands trembling, you move to the ajar door, pushing it open.

Your eyes went wide as the door swung open, there was your boyfriend, on his knees in the middle of your room.

“Jungwon!” You quickly made your way towards him, throwing all caution to the wind to make sure he was okay. The knife fell from your hands as you dropped to your knees in front of him, the sound of soft cries falling from his lips. “Hold on, I'll get you out of here.” Panic and worry surge through you, going to untie his hands from behind him, only to realize. He wasn’t tied up.

“Oh y/n, y/n, y/n.” The cries turned into laughter as he lifted his head meeting your eyes. Jungwon watched in amusement as the worry on your face morphed into terror. You try to reach for the knife that you discarded, but you aren’t quick enough. Jungwon snatched the object off of the ground, “Ahahah now my love, don’t act too rash now.” he chuckled as he towered over your trembling form.

The sight of the tears falling from your beautiful doe eyes as you looked up at him caused his cock to twitch behind his pants. 

Your eyes trailed from his blood-speckled face down the length of his body before falling on the mask in his left hand. The same Ghostface mask that the police have reported the killer to always be wearing. Looking back up you met Jungwon’s eyes as realization set in. The man before you, your boyfriend, the same man who would never hurt a bug, was a cold-blooded killer.

Jungwon smirked as he crouched down in front of you, moonlight gleaming off of the knife in his hand. You watched him in fear, fear of what he was going to do with you. Was he going to kill you? Or was all of this some sick joke his friend put him up to, but with the curfew in town set you knew that'd be hard to pull off.

“Why are you so surprised, my love? I thought you were smarter than this.” His voice was cold, nothing like the warm and sweet one you were used to. Then his words registered in your brain, what did he mean? Taking in your confused expression he brought his hand with the mask, taping a gloved finger to his temple, “Use that pretty head of yours.”

As you thought more and more about how the killings always lined up when he wasn’t with you, the more you started to realize that it had been right under your nose. 

Jungwon watched with a sadistic smile as he noticed your shaking die down, as well as your breathing evened out. Even in this insane situation, your body was subconsciously relaxing in his presence. 

“It was really you?” Your voice shook as you looked back up at him, tears silently flowing down your face.

Jungwon just hummed with a nod, “Yep.” he popped the ‘p’ as he brought the knife closer to his face, inspecting it. “It’s therapeutic honestly, you should try it sometime, I know how stressed you get.”

You swallowed thickly as you watched the light bounce off of the sharp metal, your fear was slowly melting away. Noticing your lingering gaze, Jungwon pointed the knife towards you, the sharp point barely a centimeter away from your nose. Your breath hitched, eyes wide as you looked from the weapon to your boyfriend's dark eyes.

“Don’t be getting any funny ideas now, princess.” His tone is dark, making your stomach flip. 

“I wasn’t…” Letting out a shaky breath you reach forward cautiously still believing that he would never hurt you, grabbing his wrist and pulling the object away from your face. “I wasn’t going to, Won, I swear.”

He chuckled darkly before dropping his mask to encase your throat in his palm, squeezing hard enough to limit your oxygen. Pushing your body down roughly until your back was flat on the cold ground, his body caging yours underneath him. He traced the knife down the side of your face, a crazed look in his eyes causing a whimper to leave your lips, rubbing your thighs together.

Your head started to spin as so many emotions started to spiral, but fear and lust were the ones to overthrow the others. Why was this turning you on? You were supposed to be fighting to get his hand off your throat, but you only hoped he’d squeeze more. The knife that was so close to cutting your skin only excited you more. Then his face, god his face covered in blood was a sight you didn’t know you needed.

Noticing how you started to squirm underneath him, Jungwon smirked, squeezing your throat more. A broken moan tore through your lips as your eyes screwed shut, heat pooling in your lower gut.

“Are you enjoying this?” He leaned closer to your face, warm breath brushing across your lips. Your eyes fluttered open to show him the need and lust that swirled in them causing him to smile, his teeth peeking out from between his lips. “Such a dirty slut,”

He pulled away slightly to trailed the blade over your collarbone, before moving to hook the knife under your shirt. You whined as the sounds of your top ripping filled the room.

“And you’re not wearing a bra, such a naughty girl.” He teased as he placed the blade back on your bare skin, tracing the tip down the valley of your breast leaving goosebumps in its wake. A shaky sigh fell from your lips as you looked at your boyfriend, whose gaze was already on you, studying your reactions.

When he brought the blade to the sensitive skin of your nipple, you cried out, head falling back. Jungwon could feel himself growing even harder in his jeans, never knowing his sweet little girlfriend would enjoy something so dirty. Then he got ideas of how he could torture you until you were begging for his cock.

A broken ‘please’ fell from your lips causing Jungwon to look at you with a sadistic smirk, dragging the blade away from your boob, and down your stomach. When he got closer to your core, your hips bucked causing the knife to puncture your skin. Your head fell back with a moan at the sudden pain, it ignited a new kind of flame in your gut.

“Fuck.” Jungwon cursed as he watched in amazement at how your body was reacting. He pulled the blade away from your skin resulting in a whine from you. Blood trickled from the small cut flowing down your side before meeting the band of your sleep shorts, dying the fabric red.

He chuckled as he watched you squirm under his hold, your hands trying to reach him. Letting go of your throat you let out a gasp before he grabbed the back of your head, his lips smashing into yours. A small yelp of surprise fell from your lips before melting into his lips, matching his pace, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt.

His free hand trailed down your sensitive skin making you moan into his mouth, his fingers tracing circles on the inside of your thigh as he got closer to your core. Your hips buck into his hand desperate for his touch.

"Hmm, you're not very patient, are you?" Jungwon whispered against your lips before biting your bottom lip, nearly drawing blood. You whimpered at the pain before he pulled your lip into his mouth, sucking harshly making your head spin.

His fingers slipped past the waistband of your bottom, smearing blood on your abdomen in the process. Your jaw fell slack, a moan falling from your parted lips as his finger brushed against your slit.

“Such a dirty, dirty girl, I’ve barely done anything and you’re already so wet.” He berated you, watching you whine, tears pooling in your eyes because your body felt so hot and he wasn’t doing anything to help, just watching with that same smirk on his lips.

“Please, Jungwon, please please.” You sounded like a broken record begging for him to do something.

However, he pulled his hand from your pussy and moved away from your body altogether. You moved yourself to sit up, watching him with wide eyes as he walked towards your bed, pulling the gloves off of his hands. He sat on the edge of the bed before looking over at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Well? Get over here.” His voice was rough, with a hint of annoyance as he watched you continue to sit on the ground. Seeing anger flash across his face made your stomach turn causing you to scramble to your feet. 

Jungwon watched as you meekly walked towards him, your boobs bouncing slightly with each step you took. When you stood before him, he looked up at you taking in the sight of you looking right at the bulge in his jeans shamelessly.

“If you wanna cum so badly…” His voice broke your trance making you meet his eyes as he grabbed your hips, pulling you into his lap. You whined as you felt his bulge press right against your clothed core. “Then ride my thigh.”

“But-” “It’s my thigh or nothing, princess. I’m not lifting a finger to help you get off.” He cut you off, getting ready to push you off of him, but you grabbed his shoulders telling him to wait.

Your face flushed in embarrassment, he’s never asked for anything like this any other time you’ve had sex. He was always sweet and making sure you were taken care of, but seeing this new side of him was a sort of whiplash.

As you moved to straddle his thigh, he removed his hands from your hips using them to support himself as he leaned back. Watching as you started rocking back and forth on his thigh, hands fisting his shirt trying to ground yourself. Sigh-like moans leave your lips as you spread your legs further trying to gain more friction.

Jungwon watched in amusement as your body shuddered in pleasure, trying to keep yourself balanced. However, the closer you got to your climax the more rushed your movements became and the volume of your moans increased.

“Wonnie please…” You whined as you slumped forward, legs growing numb due to the overwhelming pleasure. Jungwon knew you were close because of the way your jaw fell slack and your knuckles turned white due to gripping his shirt so tight.

“Oh come on baby, you’re not tired already, are you?” He mocked you as you continued to whine out, rocking your hips furiously. Wanting to prove him wrong you sat up a little bit more, your head falling back. 

Your high was so dangerously close that you could taste it, “W-Won!”

“Go on, cum on my thigh like the desperate slut you are.” His words had you tipping over the edge, your body shaking as you rode out your orgasm. Jungwon sat up taking your hips in his hands once more, pulling them further down on his thigh, a loud moan leaving your lips. He continued to rock you against him, forcing your body into overstimulation.

“W-Won- fuck, ‘s too much.” You whimper, head falling into the crook of his neck, hand on his bicep.

“But you were so desperate to cum baby, I’m just helping you.” He chuckled as he felt your body shudder, face still buried in his neck. Leaning forward a bit he pressed a kiss to your shoulder making your body tingle. 

You could feel another high creeping up on you, “Won… I’m close.” Another, softer moan left your lips as you kissed his neck. He flexed his thigh underneath you causing your body to tremble as another orgasm washed over you, groaning against his neck.

Jungwon didn’t give you a second to rest, picking you up and laying you on the bed. Not even a second later his lips were on your neck sucking harshly leaving bright red marks in his wake. A loud moan broke through your lips as he bit down on your collarbone, hand flying to his head. 

He left a trail of his marks down your chest before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, your back arching pushing further into his mouth. Your fingers tugged his hair against his nape causing him to groan against your skin, hands on your hips pulling your body flush against his.

“You taste so sweet, baby.” He raised his head, his eyes holding an animalistic gleam, “but I bet your pussy tastes sweeter.” Your head falls back as he cups your core, pressing against your clothed core. With a devilish smirk, he lets his lips trail down your tummy, licking your wound and letting the crimson liquid coat his tongue. 

Looking down you felt like you wanted to combust at the sight of him tracing his tongue along the trail of dried blood. When he got to the hem of your shorts he pulled away, meeting your eyes as he tugged them down your legs. Watching the way you held your breath, eyes following his hands until the cloth was completely off of your body. 

Throwing them to the side, Jungwon turned back to you taking in the sight of your body, completely bare before him. Grabbing your ankle he brought it to his shoulder pressing a kiss on your calf watching as you squirmed under him, your lip between your teeth keeping from letting any sounds slip.

“Why are you so quiet now baby?” He asked as he trailed to your inner thigh listening to your breath hitch. Getting closer to your core, he blew on it watching the way your hole clenched around nothing. Chuckling darkly he laid your leg over her shoulder before licking a long stripe up your slit collecting your juices and cum on his tongue, humming at the taste. Your hands go to tangle in his hair, but he stops you. “Ah, hands behind your back.”

“But-” “Now, or I’ll tie you to the headboard and you won’t get to touch me at all.” He threatened and you whined but followed his instructions nonetheless. Arching your back enough to place your arms underneath before laying back down, trapping them.

Satisfied with your actions he goes back down on you, harshly sucking on your clit, eliciting a loud cry from your lips. He hummed against you, finally getting you to release your sounds again. He continued to devour your pussy like a starved man, broken moans and cries fell from your parted lips, hips bucking against his face.

His hand that was holding your hip moved to press down on your stomach, keeping you in place. Your eyes rolled back as you felt his tongue against your gummy walls, his nose pressing against your clit deliciously. 

“You taste heavenly my love,” He groaned against you, making your head spin, a cry of his name leaving your lips, fingers digging into the sheets under you. When he pressed two fingers into you so easily you felt like you could cum then and there. 

His pace was relentless as he pumped his fingers into you while switching between soft and hard sucks on your clit. The sensation was driving you insane and you felt like you could scream. 

You didn’t even give him a warning when you came as his fingers brushed over your sweet spot. Your vision turned white as you screamed his name, everything becoming extremely overwhelming, but he didn’t let up on his pace, dragging your orgasm out as long as he possibly could. You tried to get away from him as you felt another orgasm creeping up quickly, but his grip was too strong.

“Scream for me again princess, let the neighbors know who’s making you feel so good.” He smirked as he looked at you, his lower face glistening in your juices. His fingers continued to abuse your sweet spot until your whole body shook.

“OH MY GOD!” You cried out as your fourth orgasm of the night hit you like a tidal wave. Jungwon watched smugly as you rode out your high on his fingers before pulling them from your needy hole.

You whined softly at the sudden empty feeling and he laid your trembling leg down on the bed before leaning over you, pressing his lips against yours. You moaned at the taste of yourself on his tongue, he pulled your arms out from underneath you.

He grabbed your hand before leading it down his torso before groaning as your fingertips brushed against his clothes cock.

“You feel that baby?” He hissed through his teeth as you pressed your palm against him, “It’s all because of you and you’re gonna help me right?” He asked as he nipped at your jaw earning a whine from you, “gonna let me fuck this slutty pussy right?” You moaned as he moved your hand to your own sopping cunt. 

“P-Please.” You begged looking at him, eyes pleading with him.

“Please what princess?” He brought your hand to his mouth, licking your juices off of your own fingers, “you want my cock?” You nodded, biting your lip, eyes never leaving his. He grabbed your other wrist before pinning your hands next to your head, rolling his hips against yours, a moan tore through your lips. His lips ghosted over yours, “I wanna hear you say it.” 

His eyes bore into yours, your bottom lip quivering. With another roll of his hip, your brain turned into mush. Your hands balled into fists, eyes screwing shut, “fuck, Wonnie please, I want your cock in me so bad, fuck me please, Wonnie, please.” You rambled on as Jungwon watched you lose yourself smugly. He doesn’t know why he didn’t try this earlier, this was the hottest he’s ever seen you and it made him ten times harder. 

Releasing his hold on you he moved back to pull his shirt over his head leaving you to ogle at his bare torso. Reaching out you let your finger brush against his skin before he gave you a look making you retract your hand worried he’d deny you of his cock for longer.

Undoing his belt and unzipping his pants he pulled them down along with his underwear letting his dick spring free. Your mouth watered at the sight of it, yearning for it even more. Noticing your gaze Jungwon smirked, moving closer to you and grabbing your thighs pulling you closer to the edge of the bed.

“I haven’t even put it in yet and you already look like you’re about to cum.” He teased as he slapped the tip of his cock against your clit making you whine and squirm. A smug smirk tugged on his as he lined his tip up with your entrance watching your eyes roll.

“Fuck.”  You cursed as he pushed in before stilling and grabbing your hips to keep you from moving them, a whine leaving your lips.

Without any warning, he thrusted into you stealthing his length in you in one go causing you to quite literally scream his name, nails digging into the sheets. He smiled sadistically as he leaned down next to your ear, pushing deeper into you.

“You just love getting fucked by a serial killer don’t you y/n?” He nipped at your ear, “I bet you’d love it even more if I wore the mask huh?” Your brain was foggy, not able to voice a single thing, but your body did the talking for you. Jungwon groaned as he felt you tighten around him, squeezing his dick like you never wanted him to leave. “You’re such a dirty slut.” He berated you with a smile before he pulled his hip back until only his tip was left in you.

He thrusted his hips back into you, a moan leaving your lips as your eyes rolled back. He kept the brutal pace, his hand that was on your hip traveled up to your neck, squeezing and making you squeak. Tears fell from your eyes, drool spilling from the corner of your lips as you babbled nonsense. 

Jungwon could feel himself grow even harder at the sight of your fucked out state, taking in your teary eyes that would look at him before rolling back when he hit a particular spot in your cunt.

“God, you feel so good, princess.” He groaned as you squeezed around him, he had been hard for so long that he knew he wasn’t going to last long, not if your pussy kept squeezing him like this. “Fuck I’m not gonna last, I need you to cum for me, baby.” He breathed out as he grabbed your leg, throwing it over his shoulder. The new angle had you seeing stars, your vision quite literally going dark, a pitiful squeak falling from your swollen lips. “I’m gonna stuff you full of my cum and you’re gonna take every last drop like the good little slut you are.”

His words were your tipping point, your orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan and Jungwon groaned loudly as you squeezed him so hard, pushing him over as well.

His cum painted your walls white as he continued to fuck it into you and you were milking him for all he was worth as your walls continued to pulse around him. He felt your body go limp against his making him look up at your face seeing that you had passed out.

“Aww, how cute…” He cooed as he continued to roll his hips into yours until he went completely soft inside you. “Don’t worry I’ll take care of you.”

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.