#like if you want time away from your phone just say that. i love time away from my phone

[ceilidho]

Buttermilk

It doesn't take long to settle into the rhythm of your new summer job. Or: the babysitter x single dad au

Part 3 | masterlist

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It’s not unusual for someone to mistake you for the baby’s mama.

How could someone not, at least for a moment? When you take the baby to the grocery store, older people gush over him babbling in his stroller, eager to shower him with compliments in baby-talk or tell you how much you resemble the little tyke. After hearing the same comment for the umpteenth time, you tire of correcting people by saying you’re the babysitter only to watch their face fall, somewhat mortified and feeling as though their comment should’ve been directed to the baby’s actual mother. Which isn’t you. 

It’s less typical for someone to mistake you for John’s wife, though that does happen from time to time.

You’ve become a fixture around the neighbourhood since John hired you at the beginning of the summer, and over the weeks, the other nannies and the stay-at-home moms have started to gradually warm up to you. Before long, you’re being invited on coffee runs and playdates with some of the other women, always careful to ask for John’s permission before bringing his baby into a stranger’s house.

“Just text me the address and their names,” he requests while you stand awkwardly in front of him, John sitting on the bed to finish buttoning up his shirt and fixing his watch around his wrist. You would’ve been fine standing on the other side of the door while he finished changing, but he insisted on inviting you in.

“I will,” you promise, nodding along with his words.

“And call me if you don’t feel comfortable. I’ll come get the two of you right away if you need me.”

You swallow. Nod again.

The first time you take the baby for a playdate with a couple of the moms from the park, one catches you in the act of texting John the address of the house as he requested. “Hubby wants to know where you are, huh?”

“Oh,” you choke out, face heating up. “He’s not—”

“Not a control freak, I know. They’re all like that.” Her smile is ebullient, rolling her eyes like you’re in on a joke together when you most assuredly are not. “Why don’t you share your location with him? Mine’s the same way. Here—I’ll show you how.”

She takes your phone and tap-taps something and suddenly you see it in the notifications of your conversation with John. If you bite your lip instead of correcting her assumption about the nature of your and John’s relationship, that’s for you and you alone to know. Your rationale is that any explanation will just make things tense; it’s not like you haven’t seen it happen before. 

It’s far more concerning when John doesn’t correct those assumptions. Particularly when you’re standing right next to him. 

Like at the local water park on a particularly hot weekend, wading in the kiddy pool with the baby nestled tight against your chest in his little swim trunks and floppy hat only for an employee to ask John if his wife would like something to drink. 

“Iced coffee, love?” John asks, taking your stupefied silence as a yes. “Nothing for me, mate. Cheers.” 

Your head spins like a top on that thought until a good while later. The server hands you a glass of iced coffee with condensation already dripping down the sides and John thanks him for you, taking the baby from you and pulling you to his side. You drink your coffee quietly with your thigh flush with his under the water, gripping the glass harder when his free hand squeezes around your waist, laughing at something another parent said to him.

It’s so over for you. There’s no coming back from this. 

The sight of someone of John’s size, a bulky, military man with arms of pure steel dusted with dark hairs, cradling a tiny, chubby baby with a thatch of similar dark hair on his head and big cheeks and roly poly arms unlocks something primal in you. An old, buried need. 

In the family changing room, you stand under an ice cold shower until it breaks the fever slowly consuming you. All you can do is hope it takes. 

In the evening, you sit out on the porch with John at the back of the house until the crickets swell with song, the moon a half-crescent in the sky. A cool breeze makes your shoulders lift a little, huddling into your body to keep warm. 

It’s hard to keep your eyes on the view in front of you and off the man sitting beside you when they want so badly to be running over him. He’s changed out of his work clothes into a soft pair of sweatpants and an old threadbare shirt, the sage green fabric faded after years of being run through the washing machine. It clings to his biceps and the soft pudge of his stomach, a layer of fat over the hard muscle beneath. 

A cigarette dangles from his fingers, thick wrist perched on the arm of the adirondack chair. Every so often he lifts it to his lips for a puff, always breathing out in the opposite direction from you. Considerate of your health, at least, if not his own. 

“Cold, sweetheart?” he asks before ashing his cigarette, and your bottom lip purses when you turn your head to look at him because you thought you were doing a good job suppressing your shivers. 

You stare at him, confused. He cocks an eyebrow at your questioning stare and deliberately glances down, waiting until you notice the way your nipples are protruding through your white tank top. You forgot that you’d taken your bra off earlier for a bit of relief and hadn’t yet had a chance to put it back on. 

“Oh my god,” you squeak, crossing your arms to hide as much as possible, humiliation flooding through you. “I’m so sorry—that’s so—I-I’m so sorry.”

John makes a rough sound when he rises to his feet, knees cracking as he does. “S’alright, hun. Lemme get you something to put on.”

The screen door creaks when he goes back inside briefly to fetch something only to come back a few seconds later with a big, cotton sweater that reeks of him. It looks well loved, some remnant of his younger years, and even from a distance, you can smell the distinct smoky aroma clinging to the fabric. 

When he kneels in front of you, you nearly go cross-eyed at the realisation that even on his knees, he’s as tall as you. The bulk of his waist forces your legs to spread around him. 

“C’mon, arms up,” John commands, barely waiting until you’ve raised your arms above your head before helping guide your head and arms into the right holes. 

Dragging the sweater down the way he does forces it to rub over your nipples, sending a shock through you. If you had any less self-control, your teeth might actually chatter together. 

“There we go,” he says, fluffing out the sweater around your waist before resting his hands on the tops of your thighs, the gesture coming so naturally to him that you doubt he’s even noticed the placement of his hands. “Much better. That’ll warm you up.”

He isn't wrong. You’ve already worked up a sweat. 

Late night rain.

It comes down in buckets, a dark slate rapping hard against the window pane. A bolt of lightning flickers across the horizon off in the distance. White striations across an otherwise dark sky. About thirty seconds later, thunder rumbles. 

You peek from between the blinds, chewing your lip nervously. You’ve never driven in rain this bad, but with supper done and the dishes washed, there’s no excuse for you to stay any longer. Still, the rain comes down so heavily that despite your timidity, you briefly contemplate asking John if you can stay a little longer. At least until it lets up a bit; until your headlights won’t blind you reflecting off the puddles on the drive home. 

Someone else pulls the blinds further apart.

“There’s no way in hell you’re going out in that,” John says from behind you, practically growling his words. Daring you to contradict him. 

You glance over your shoulder to find him right there at your back, staring out the window. He’s so close that you can smell the red sauce on his flannel from dinner and make out the flecks of grey in his beard that are almost masked by the darker hairs. 

“It’s not…that bad…”

“Sweetheart, don’t piss me off,” he warns.

The blinds shuttle back together with a clatter when you finally let go of them. 

“I could—I could take the couch,” you offer. 

“Sweetheart,” John sighs, looking down at you meaningfully.

“What?” you ask, confused.

“I’m not gonna take the big, comfy bed and leave you with the couch.” When you open your mouth to protest, he cuts you off. “And don’t even try arguing. I won’t hear it.”

There’s not much you can say to dissuade him after that. The furrow of his brow lets you know he’s made up his mind; no ifs, ands, or buts. Besides, there’s a not-so-secret part of you that’s relieved that you don’t have to drive home in this weather. You’re an average driver on a good day. You don’t need your last moments before shuffling off this mortal coil to involve hydroplaning on the highway before ramming into the guardrail. 

John gives you a shirt of his to change into for after your shower, which you spend far too long in, scrubbing your body with his shower gel and quivering under the warm water. When you pull it on, you bring the collar up to your nose to smell. The same patent smoky scent, musky like ambergris and leather. Intoxicating. It makes the blood rush through your ear like a conch shell, the ocean swirling behind your eardrum. 

You hadn’t asked for underwear, content at first to keep on the same pair, but after your shower, you cringe at the thought of putting your day-old panties back on. Besides, his shirt is long enough to cover anything indecent. 

He sits on the edge of the bed when you come out, the concern on his brow melting away at the sight of you. 

“Practically a dress on you, isn’t it?” John says, voice a little wondrous. His eyes drag over you, tip to toe. 

You fiddle with the ends of it. “…Are you sure you want me to take the bed?” 

“Wouldn’t be fair. It’s yours for the night.” His lips quirk up at the corners when you frown. “Don’t worry about me—I’ve slept in worse places before.”

“Like where?” you ask dubiously.

“Tents. Abandoned buildings. Shacks. In the back of a moving van a few times. You wouldn’t believe half the places we used to make camp. Definitely no place for pretty girls like you.”

His condescending tone vaguely annoys you, but it’s hard to dig into your irritation when he thumbs the edge of the shirt you’re wearing and you realise that he’s just a few raised inches away from noticing that you don’t have any panties on. You should’ve just put your old ones back on, but it’s far too late now. 

You clear your throat instead. “We could…um…we could share.” 

You don’t know what possesses you to offer to share the bed, but the words are already gone, out of your mouth and in the air. John cocks an eyebrow.

“Unless you don’t want to,” you amend. 

“Don’t know about that, sweetheart,” he rasps. “…I snore like a bear.”

“That’s okay. I’m a pretty deep sleeper.”

John scrutinises you a bit longer, looking for any sign of hesitancy. You know he’d squash your offer in a second if he found any wariness in your gaze. 

“Alright,” he finally concedes, letting go of your shirt and slapping his thighs. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you wake up and can’t fall back asleep because of my snoring.”

After his shower, during which you lie on your side facing away from the bathroom door, stomach fraught with nerves as you consider the fact that he’s naked in the ensuite, you hear him come out and rummage around in the dresser for a change of clothes. You lie beside him with your stomach twisted in knots, your hands shoved under the pillow and staring resolutely at the wall. 

The appropriateness of sleeping in the same bed beside your boss isn't lost on you, but you're too far into this now.

The bed dips when he settles onto the other side, and the sudden absence of light when he switches the bedside lamp off nearly makes you cheep. 

He breathes heavily, you notice, particularly when he finally falls asleep. It’s a deep, rumbling sound—not entirely unlike a bear, though you can’t really confirm that for certain seeing as how you’ve never slept beside a bear before. 

Those are the thoughts that would signal the approach of sleep if you weren’t soon to be engulfed by it. 

Sometime in the middle of the night, you wake up to a rough hand stroking your back leisurely. There’s a hard chest under you, your cheek propped up on a pillowy pec that rises and falls with his breaths. Sleep bobs around in you like a toulouse decanter. You struggle to keep an eye open, certain that there’s something you need to tend to, but then his hand slides down your back again to curve over your rump and sleep drags you back down. 

You wake up again to your breath wafting back into your mouth, your face shoved into the crook of a man’s neck. Humid, hot. You’re lipping at the skin of his neck, little tongue darting out to lap up a bead of sweat, salty on your tongue. 

Your cunt pulses against his leg, toes curling when John drags his hand up your thigh and hitches it higher up around his waist. 

“Baby?” he groans, his voice still rusty from sleep. The sound is a rough burr up your spine. 

“Sorry,” you whisper. “Couldn’ get comfy.”

“You hot?” he asks.

The denial on the tip of your tongue slips back down your throat when he plants his foot on the bed and draws his leg up, pressing the meat of his thigh into your throbbing sex. 

“Here, lemme help you—” he groans, reaching down to ruck up your shirt, dragging it up over your breasts and helping manoeuvre your arms out of the holes. It gets tossed off the bed onto the floor. 

Now your breasts are flat on his chest, smushed against his ribcage. It registers somewhere in the back of your head as inappropriate, but sleep pushes that thought away, focusing instead on the discomfort of moving around when you just want to settle back down and go back to bed. 

It must be the heat making you act this way. 

“Shit—sorry, sweetheart,” he apologizes, shifting under you. “M’hot too.”

He plants a hand on your ass and heaves you up his chest, giving him enough room to wiggle out of his boxers. It pushes your breasts right into his face, your nipples mere inches from his mouth. When his tongue pokes out to wet his upper lip, it nicks your pebbled nipple. 

A hard length presses against your butt when you’re slid back down, the tip wet when it catches against your skin. 

“Jus’ ignore it, sweetie,” John mumbles, petting a hand down your back. 

You lie like that for a while, splayed over his body. Want simmering just under your skin. Flustered and exhausted all at once, sleep-drained; not a drop of strength in your muscles. 

The heat is just—

Scorching. Dizzying. You feel featherbrained, slipping in and out of sleep, biting off the whimpers that threaten to crawl up your throat when John tucks his hands into the crevice of your thighs to wrench them apart, spreading them around his hips again. 

Distantly, you remember that the man under you is at least twenty years your senior. Your employer at that. A man now palming your butt, sinking his fingers into the flesh and rumbling low in his throat. 

It’s wrong—flagrantly wrong. You know that you should say something, that you should get up and tell him that you’re going to sleep on the couch instead. But your tongue is too thick for your mouth. And your thoughts are a sticky paste. The pulse between your thighs empties out all the common sense from your head. 

His palms are slick on your skin. 

Your breathing grows shallow when a hard length suddenly pushes between your thighs as well. 

When the mushroomed head nudges at your opening, you flinch, heart thumping ferociously against your chest. 

“John—John—” you breathe, panicked. As if to warn him. As if he weren’t planting both feet on the bed and lifting his hips. 

As if it wasn’t his hands, warm on your waist, dragging you down onto the shaft spearing into you. 

Your blood is molten hot in your veins. Sticky hands and sticky fingers curl into his chest hair. Your head thumps against his pecs, too weak to hold it up, lipping at the damp skin of his chest. 

“It hurts—” you bleat, tears pricking at the backs of your eyes. 

“I know, baby, I know,” John pants. He draws his hips back just to press forward again, deeper this time. Filling you up more than before. “I’m sorry, baby—I can’t, it’s just…too good. Shit.”

Resolve in tatters. Shattered like his willpower, like his determination not to fuck the girl twenty years his junior sleeping beside him in his bed. 

His hips pump up into yours, bouncing you in his lap. Each thrust plunging his cock deeper into your pussy. It’d be painful if you weren’t so wet, but you’re dripping, arousal making you leak around his shaft and slickening his way. 

Sleep still rattles around in your brain, but not even the fog of sleep can shake the ever intensifying realisation that you’re fucking your boss. No two ways around it—breasts naked against his hirsute chest; pussy wet and stuffed to the hilt with a big dick. Knocked senseless by it. 

The veins of his cock drag over the viscid walls of your cunt with every thrust. He must like the involuntary noises you make because he loses his rhythm when you cry out, growling out a string of unintelligible curses. His body feels bigger like this somehow, biceps and forearms bulging where they’re wrapped around your waist, hips forcing your legs to spread wide around him, the ache sinking deep into your muscle, into your bones.  

When you look up at him, his eyes are more hooded than usual, the blue of his irises so dark that they’re almost black. 

“Such a good girl,” he grunts, big arms like steel bands around your waist, holding you tight to his chest so you have nowhere to run. “Jus’ let…jus’ let daddy come and—oh Christ, fuck, fuck…—jus’ lemme come and we’ll go back to bed, okay, sweetie?”

“I’m gonna…” you pant, trailing off when he gets a little rough, pumping harder up into you. The sound of your pussy squelching around his length makes your eyes roll back, mouth hanging open. 

“Yeah, yeah, you—you come too, baby. Jus’ need to take the edge off, both of us.”

You squeal when he reaches a hand down to dig his fingers into your butt cheek and it makes you tense up, walls tightening around his dick. One well-placed swat hard enough to make the flesh of your ass jiggle and you come, clenching up so tight that his next few thrusts are slowed by your spasming walls, forcing him to really cram his cock into your hole. 

“Christ, that’s cute,” John growls, his pupils blown out. 

It hurts to come that hard; makes your belly cramp up and everything. Whatever gibberish spills from your mouth gets lost in the aftermath. 

That’s when the temperature goes from hot to blistering. The muscles of his thighs tense, straining with his impending release. Even his grip around your waist gets tighter, his self-control steamrolled under his approaching climax, oblivious to the way you squeal and squirm when it threads the delicate needle of being too much. 

“Sorry, baby,” he apologises, voice treading gravel. “M’gonna mess your pussy up a bit—”

“Wait—wait—” you gasp, trying fruitlessly to lift yourself up, his arms keeping you pinned tight to his chest. “You’re gonna—John, you’re gonna come inside me—”

His hips thrust up hard at your words, one last rough pump that has him digging his heels into the mattress and clenching his jaw, the veins in his neck protruding. You feel it flood inside you, hot spurts of cum right up against your womb. He curses when he comes, eyelids sliding shut, lost in the sensation of emptying himself into you. 

A few last, punishing thrusts that make your teeth clack together. More heat spurting into you. A murmured oh fuck before his legs slide back down the bed, spreading out over the mattress. 

The blanket is somewhere at the foot of the bed, all scrunched up and nearly dangling off the edge. You only start to shiver when the sweat on your back finally begins to cool. 

When he pulls you off his cock, you whimper, a hot flash snaking through you. Oh Christ did he plug you up good. Stringy, viscous cum leaks from your hole, leaving a little puddle on his thigh when you slide off his chest and to the side a bit. 

“Oh baby,” he tuts softly, reaching between your legs to feel where you’re wet and a little swollen. “Sorry, sweetheart…wanna get cleaned up?”

“No…” you rasp, so dazed that you can’t even lift your cheek off his chest. 

Exhaustion has never ridden you this hard before, but considering the circumstances…—perhaps you’re lucky to be conscious at all, is all you mean. There’s not a chance of you having enough energy to do anything as rigorous as showering though. 

“Okay, baby. Little kiss?” John asks in a murmur, lifting your head up by your chin and swooping down for a kiss. Not even giving you enough time to process his words before his mouth is on yours. 

His lips glide slick against yours, tongue slipping into your mouth like he needs a good, deep kiss to ground him. A wet twisting of tongues; a thick finger stroking up your neck. He can’t stop touching you. Running a hand up your spine and curving it back down over your ass. Featherlight touches meant to calm you down. His kisses grow sticky, lingering; each one almost the last until he pulls you in for another. 

“Go back to sleep, okay?” John says, still speaking low enough to push you back under. He smooths his hand down your back again. 

You fall back asleep with a load in your belly and your head in a tizzy. The you of tomorrow is going to have a lot to contend with from the you of tonight.

[luveline]

hi jade! I remember a while back you wrote a drabble about hotchner!reader having a really bad panic attack and Spencer and Aaron helping her at the hospital, and it gave me a lot of comfort to read it. would you be interested in writing something about Spencer and Aaron taking care of hotchner!reader as she adjusts to her new meds?

—Spencer and your brother, Aaron, take care of you when your new prescription gives unexpected side effects. fem (adopted) 2k

When things got quiet at home, you’d get tense. 

Your apartment is silent. No whir of the heating, no washing machine clatter, no voices. You sit on the couch with your legs pulled up, turned to the armrest with your cheek pressed to the seat's backing. Your phone is in your hand at a low percentage. You’ll get up to charge just as soon as you can remember what you’d wanted to be doing in the first place. 

Spencer was going to call you. He’s sweet, really. You didn’t expect for love to feel easy; you never thought someone could like you without allowances. You’re quiet sometimes, your nerves are shot. You ask for reassurance too much, too often, and you don’t believe them when they’re given. 

You aren’t smart, or funny, or particularly hard-working. 

But Spencer loves you, you’re almost certain. Or maybe he’s just content to be half happy. It wouldn’t surprise you if he called you to break up with you —what use have you been to him lately? You’re tired everyday. You can’t sleep, you can’t eat, you never want to go out. You can barely make it through the working day. 

Your phone beeps in your hand. 

Outside, it says. If Spencer’s there, please make sure he’s fully dressed.

You manage to smile weakly. Aaron saw Spencer once getting out of the shower, and he was dressed, thank you very much. You hadn’t done anything salacious as he might’ve assumed from the situation, just showered together, but Aaron always lets you know before visiting now. 

Doesn’t ask, by the way, but you don’t actually want him to. He’s like, the only good thing in your life beside Spencer. 

Aaron lets himself in and finds you immediately. “Hey, honey,” he says. 

He slipped into the affectionate older brother role not long after meeting you, and he’s been worse since you were in the hospital. Which is to say, gentler with you. 

He slips a bag of groceries onto the counter. He pans around the room. It’s cleaner than usual here, but none of the lights are on, nor the TV. You can see him notice it. 

“You okay?” he asks, pulling groceries from the bag. He’s brought milk, bread, eggs, and fresh soups from the nice store nearby. “It’s quiet in here.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Yeah? Any wobbles?” 

He’s asking if you’ve had a panic attack or anything like it, but for the last few days you’ve felt veritably numb. “I’m okay,” you say. 

You should bring up your symptoms. Clearly, lexapro either isn’t right for you or the dosage is too much; you’re a zombie these last couple of days. Medications don’t always work straight away, so for a time you’d felt like your script was useless, serving only to make you nauseous, but the sickness has finally gone away. 

He opens the fridge to put away the groceries. He’s sliding the bread into your bread box when he says, “Honey, aren’t you gonna answer that? Your phone?”

You blink down at your phone. Spencer’s contact glows in front of a green background. 

You click answer and pull it to your ear. “Hello?” you ask softly. 

“Hey, angel. How are you feeling today?” 

You clear your throat. “Fine.” 

“I was thinking I’d come over?” 

“You’re outside?” you ask. 

“How’d you know that?” 

“Must be something in the water.”

“I’ll come up now. I brought some things for dinner.” 

You manage your first laugh that dreary day. It’s nearly normal. “Okay. I might not have room.” 

Spencer promises to be up quickly and disconnects the call. You lift your chin to find Aaron already looking at you. “Do I look okay?” you ask. 

“Beautiful, don’t worry.”

“Is this an ambush?” you ask. 

“Not an intentional one. Can I make you something to drink?” 

He’ll make you something you like, you trust. You try to sit properly on the couch before Spencer gets here, rubbing under your eyes, checking there’s nothing on your t-shirt and sweatpants. It might not matter if there were, you know Spencer thinks you’re pretty without makeup or fancy clothes, but he doesn’t necessarily have to be truthful about it. 

“Aaron,” you say, before you can forget, “did… was Jack’s soccer okay?”

He passes you a mug, squeezing your shoulder lovingly. “It was great. I’ll show you the photos.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t go.” 

You were supposed to. Spencer even drove to pick you up, but he got here and your meds weren’t working and your heart was beating wrong, so you stayed home. 

“It’s okay.” Aaron looks like he wants to hug you, but he doesn’t. “Nobody’s mad at you for that.” 

“For other things?” 

“Nothing.” 

Your door opens again. Spencer bursts in with two things, a brown paper bag of groceries and a bouquet of flowers. It’s a pretty huge bouquet, as they go, white and pink flowers, cornflower blue chrysanthemums spotted throughout, the end of his scarf stuck in the flowers and his coat unbuttoned in the struggle. “Hey. Hi, Hotch.” 

“Spencer,” Aaron says, which is strangely warm. 

Spencer shoves the bouquet aside to see you. “Hi, you okay?” 

You force yourself to stand. It’s obvious you’re not feeling right, your head whirring, but you have to make sure he still wants you. “Spencer.” 

He puts the bouquet down. The groceries next. “Angel,” he says, meeting Aaron’s eyes quickly, then back to you, where he smiles sympathetically, “How long have you been feeling like this?” 

You’ve only taken a few steps toward him when he catches you for a hug. It’s nice and polite, but not without tenderness. He doesn’t pull your weight in like he would if you were alone, but he holds your back and sits a quick kiss against your cheek as he pulls away. 

“I don’t really know, a few days?” you suggest. 

“You could’ve told me. Or Hotch, you know?” 

“I know, I was going to, just–” You press your hand to your eyes. “Didn’t really notice it was happening.” 

“Don’t get upset,” Aaron says, coming to join you both in the kitchen. “It’s alright. Spencer isn’t scolding you, he just wants you to know we’re here for you no matter what happens.” 

“I don’t feel like myself,” you say.

“That’s okay,” Aaron furthers, holding you by the shoulder, his hand settling behind the nape of your neck, “we can talk to your doctor again, this isn’t permanent. We’ll talk to them today, if it’s what you need.” 

“I’m sorry. Not many people have such an adverse effect to lexapro, I was hoping you wouldn’t be an exception,” Spencer says. 

To your surprise, Aaron answers for you, “You couldn’t have known. This is just something we’ll have to keep doing together.” 

Someone sits you down. Aaron warms his fancy soups and toasts the bread he brought, making a plate and bowl for each of you without asking. Spencer barely balks. You manage another laugh, for which you’re rewarded with two smiles. 

Aaron can’t stay much longer, having to pick up Jack from Jess’, but he offers to come back. You decline, not wanting Jack to see you feeling as depressed as you are. He promises to call the doctor tonight and leaves in a rush. He must’ve stayed longer than he should’ve. 

Spencer is more forthcoming with soft touches once he’s gone. He didn’t eat much but neither did you, pushing the plates across the coffee table. He’s still wearing his coat. 

Fond, you reach for his chest and begin slipping buttons from the eyelets. “You’re staying, right?” you murmur. 

“If you’ll have me.” 

You open his coat and push it away from his shoulders. He dressed fancy even when he’s not going anywhere, it’s so strange, the button up and the tie and the sweater vest, all of it, but you love it. You run your hand down his vest. He lets his head dip forward. Not for kissing, just to be near. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“Just feel wrong.” 

“It’s not really a good idea to stop taking the lexapro now. It’s technically an antidepressant, and your body won’t adjust well.” He holds your waist as you hold his. “But this is weird, huh?” 

“Feels weird.” 

“Short term, uh, I think we should just try and make sure you feel alright today. Is there anything you need?” he’s murmuring, rubbing his thumb into the soft of your stomach. “I can get anything. Or we can do anything.” 

“You don’t have to… worry about me.” 

“Are you kidding?” he asks softly.

“We haven’t been…” You trail your hand to his stomach, where it stays. “I just don’t expect you to deal with this, you didn’t sign up for this.” 

“I don’t think that’s true. I had no idea what I’d find out about you or what you might go through when we first met, but I wanted to find out. I wanted to take care of you then, and I do now,” he says simply.

“It’s not good timing for me to be like this.” 

“Stuff happens all the time. I wouldn’t want to wait for you to be perfect before we met.” He smiles genuinely. “Not that you’re not perfect.” 

“I really feel like I’m not even me.” 

“You’re you,” he says, dipping so close to you that you can’t see his face anymore, just his skin.

You slouch into his chest, coaxed by long, lithe arms cradling you, as kind as anyone’s ever touched you. He smells clean, your nose finding its way to his stiff collar. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. 

“You don’t have to be. Nobody wants you to be sorry, okay?” 

It’s a new feeling. Spencer spends the night with you on the couch and doesn’t for a moment seem like it’s something he doesn’t wanna do. You end up laying on his chest, his fingers drawing lines like a meandering figure skater up your back. Twirls and loops, long laps around your spine. When your phone rings, he’s nice enough to click answer and hold it to your ear. 

“Aaron?” you ask sleepily. 

“Hey, honey. I’ll be by tomorrow to take you back to Dr. Chester’s office, alright? If you don’t want to keep taking your lexapro, don’t. But if you can manage it, take another tonight, and we’ll figure out the new plan after your appointment.” 

“Okay,” you say, feeling very small. “Thank you for doing that for me.” 

“I’d do anything. Jack says he loves you, he’s making you a painting of yourself. He’s very good at the colours.” 

“I bet he is,” you say loudly. In the background, you can hear Jack’s pleased little thank you. 

“Do you want to talk a while?” he asks.

“That’s okay, Aaron, I’m half asleep on Spencer right now.” 

“Good, that’s good. Tell him to take good care of you, okay? Or I won’t be happy.” 

Spencer laughs above your head. “When is he ever happy?” he jokes in a whisper. 

“Shh,” you say, giving Spencer a light shove. “He says he will.” You swallow a lump, as you’ve had to do all day, but it isn’t rawness that colours your voice now. “I love you. Thank you for, uh, calling the doctor. Thanks.” 

“I love you too. I’ll leave you to sleep now. I’ll come at eleven, alright?” 

“Alright. See you tomorrow,” you say. 

Your voice is weak. Spencer pulls the phone away and hangs it up, tossing it without force onto the coffee table, before wrapping his arm around you snugly. 

“It’s gonna be fine,” Spencer says. “You’ll see, things aren’t going to be like this forever. It’s statistically impossible.” 

“Ooh,” you croon, pressing your tired face back into his chest, “I love when you talk statistics to me. Tell me more.”

He draws shapes into your back, his voice a murmur as he starts to talk. 

[no-144444]

guilt tripping- o.piastri

summary: oscar asks something of you that you know you can't do. you do it anyway and it ends in you two almost breaking up. almost.

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! chronic illness! reader

a/n: hey yall, I just broke two ribs (lol) and got diagnosed with a chronic illness (lmao) so I might not be posting as frequently- just dealing with it physically and mentally so yah 😹

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“I don’t know if I can go,” you sighed, feeling even worse. 

“That’s alright,” he assured you, but you could hear the way his excitement depleted and his mood lowered. 

“M-maybe I can work something out, I don’t want to leave you alone,” your guilt grew everyday, this wasn’t healthy for either of you. 

“I don’t want you over-exerting yourself,” he spoke softly into the phone. “I’ll just ask mum if she has any friends that want to go or something. She always brings a million people with her.”

“I don’t want to leave you hanging Oscar. Melbourne is a big race. I’d be happy to come over like a week before, and then come to the race once I’ve had a few days to heal,” you bargained. A 22 hour connecting flight was not something you’d ever wanted to do. You couldn’t do it. You knew the pain would be too bad, yet you still stood there, offering it anyway. “And then I’d come for the race on Sunday, or just small bits on all the days.”

“Really?” his voice picked up, excited now. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure Osc, I love seeing you race,” your smile was more of a grimace than anything, but still, the guilt in your chest lessened as you listened to Oscar speak animatedly about the race weekend, while your anxiety ran through the roof. You couldn’t do all the things he wanted you to do, you never could. This had been a problem at the beginning of your relationship, every time he’d plan a date that wasn’t dinner or a movie, you’d have to break the news that a 15 kilometre hike wasn’t something you’d be able to do on a whim. Things like that took planning, physio, and preparation. Your chronic illness was no joke, and had limited you since you were a teenager. In the past few years he’d gotten much better at everything, from helping you with your physio exercises, attending pilates classes with you, knowing what to do on bad pain days, and always looking out for you in public. You knew he was just getting away with himself, and you didn't want to disappoint, so you agreed to it all, hoping against hope that it wouldn’t be a bad week of pain or flare-ups wise. 

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You got into Melbourne and sobbed when you got in the car. Thankfully, it was Hattie picking you up, so she just held your hand as you silently cried, the joint and too much to bear. You went straight to bed as Hattie explained to the rest of the house that you were exhausted, and Oscar took it at face value. You usually get extremely tired after long days, and you’d just had a 22-hour day of travel. 

“I’ll go check on her-” he started, desperate to see you but Hattie cut him off. 

“NO!” she squeaked, trying to not sound suspicious. Oscar raised an eyebrow. “She’s really tired and she’s already gone to sleep.”

“Yeah, well I’m tired so I’m going to bed,” he explained, stretching then yawning. 

“Osc,” Hattie sighed, knowing she had to tell him. “She’s not… alright. She can’t do 22 hour travel days like you or I can. She has Lupus and she’s still trying to figure out her medication, so it hurts all the time. She cried from the airport to here, all to support you because you asked her to, and she feels guilty every single time she can’t say yes. She’s done real damage to herself by coming here. I want you to understand that, do you understand that?” 

Oscar nodded, because the other option was breaking down into tears. Yes, he’d felt guilty that he couldn’t be there to take care of you while travelling, and he knew he was asking a lot of you when he asked. The guilt settled deep in his stomach and made him nauseous, but still he continued on to his bedroom where you were sleeping peacefully. He could see the puffy eyes, the red nose, the open bottles of medication on the nightstand. He wrapped an arm around your waist, another in your hair and pulled you as close as possible, whispering teary sorrys into your ear. 

When you woke up the next morning, you knew what you had to do. This wasn’t fair on either of you, and you needed to make a change. You quickly (but silently) got up, and started to leave the room, but Oscar grabbed ahold of your hand before you could leave. 

“Please don’t sneak out on me,” he begged, sitting up. He looked wrecked, puffy eyes, red rose- had he been crying? God, had you made him cry? 

“Osc, what’s wrong?” you asked, concern clear as day on your face as you cupped his face with your hands.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I knew I was asking too much when I asked you to come here, I’m so sorry.”

Your heart tightened in your chest. “Osc, I’m alright, I was just tired last night and-”

“Hattie told me,” his voice was deep, deeper than usual, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your hand. “And I’m so sorry.”

“Osc, I could’ve said no if I didn’t think I was able for it,” you tried to reassure him but he shook his head. 

“Y/n, you did say no and I didn’t take it as an answer,” he scoffed. 

You were stunned into silence. “I think we need to have a talk about us, Osc.”

He nodded, taking your hands in his. 

“This isn’t fair on you. I know I can't control my illness, and neither can you. It sucks, but it’s a fact. I wish I could be there for every single race and cheer you on with the other girls, but I can’t. It’s not in the cards for me right now, and I don’t know when it will be. Oscar, I love you so much, and you’ve been with me through everything and I know you deserve someone who can always be there for you, and I’m not that person right now. I love you but I know it’s not enough,” You finally looked at him and he was biting his lip as tears streamed down his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and stood up, dropping your hands as he paced his bedroom. “You know how much I love you, don’t you?” he asked and you nodded as you held back more tears. “So you know that I still feel your support even when we’re in different time zones or on different continents, right? You know that I value you being in as little pain as possible more than being at the barricade after a race, right? You know that I fucking love you more than I love racing, right? Y/n, I’ve been here the entire time, since we were 14 years old. You’re the reason I get in the car, you make me better, all the time it’s just you. I plan on being with you for my whole life, Y/n. I want to be there for everything. I plan to sit there through every appointment about medication until you find the one that actually helps you, I plan on being there for every day where you don’t feel up to it, I plan on being there for you, always. I never want to let go of you, and yeah, it is nice to be able to see you after a race, and I know that because fucking facetime exists. If you still want to break up because I fucked up by asking you to come here, go ahead, but don’t ever think that I’m without because I’m with you. I am so in love with you, Y/n. I mean it. I want to marry you one day, I want a family with you, I want to be old with you so we get to reminisce on the good ol’ days and make some more while we have time. ‘The good ol’ days’ will be the days I spend with you. More than any race win, more than any trophy, or than anything. My favourite part about a race weekend is coming home because I know no matter what my result was, you’ll be there with open arms, loving me anyways. You’re more than enough for me.”

You crossed the room and wrapped your arms around him, crying into his hoodie as he held you. “I love you too.”

After a few moments of both of you calming down, he finally spoke. “Can you forgive me for being such an asshole?” he asked, wiping his eyes. 

You nodded, a small smile on your face. “I can, can you forgive me for being such an idiot?”

He chuckled. “You’re no idiot,” he picked you up and gently placed you back on the bed lying beside you. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.”

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[xoluvx]

cause i wonder; b.eilish ❥₊ ⊹

as the decade would play us for fools and you saw my bones out with somebody new

stay with me ya'll cause i'm feeling a bit emo. just imagine billie seeing you after you've broken up. the first time she's seen you since it all went down. you quit each other; no contact only painful blistering ache. it harbored in your hearts. you carried it like an anchor sinking to the pit of your stomach. it was debilitating and all consuming and now you were at her show. standing with your friends like you weren't hanging on by a thread threatening to snap any second. like you weren't completely shattered on the inside.

she'd spotted you almost instantly. when your eyes met, all the noise drowned out. all you could hear was the sound of your heart beating rapidly, wanting to jump out of your chest and run right up to her on stage. she looked away and tried composing herself, but you could tell she was off. she was confused. you were confused and you couldn't outwardly feel any of it. not in this crowd. not with your friends. not even with yourself because you'd both chosen this.

it could've been so easy to fight for it, but you didn't. instead you lived with the pain and regret and the tears forming in your eyes and the quiet sniffles and excuses to go to the bathroom because you couldn't bare to carry the pain and you couldn't bare pretending it was all okay when you were both walking with open wounds.

so if i sell my apartment and you have some kids with an internet starlet, will that make your memory fade from this scarlet maroon like it never happened?

could it be enough to just float in your orbit?

wounds too large to heal. you almost prayed they didn't heal because you could still feel her in every fiber of your being. in every step you took and every song you listened to. twirled in your thoughts and your memories. intimate memories of arms brushing, fingers lacing, legs tangling. soft whispering and gentle caresses. longing moans and tender sighs. hands touching while lips kissed. tongues tussling while nails clawed. whimpers and shivers down spines. they all replayed in your head like a cruel fucking joke.

all you could do was wish you could go back to your bubble and hide from the world like you didn't exist. longing to go back to your safe space instead of standing in an arena of people chanting her name. you reverted to spacing out just like you did every day. going about in a daze. everything losing its color and taste. coffee bland. eyes blank. heart bruised. bubble bursting suddenly leaving you raw and shivering. so you watched her from afar doing what she loved. smiling faintly when your friends tugged on your arm forcing you to dance. clapping when she bowed.

she was your sun and you just existed to orbit around her. you would've done it for decades if she'd asked you to.

and if you want to tear my world apart say you'll always wonder. cause i wonder.

but neither of you could admit to the love still festering in your hearts and neither of you could admit to the pain you both caused. neither of you would pick up the phone and admit defeat to the cruel game with no winners. you were two losers yearning for each other. clapping at your seat. wondering who was waiting for her backstage. who she was going to wrap her arms around. who she was longing for. so stupid and oblivious to the fact that her heart still belong to you. searching for you in the sea of people while you still wondered.

[mimikittysblog]

The Princess

Pairing: Mafia! Husbands! Poly! Ateez x Fem! Wife! Reader

Genre: Angst, a good chunck of fluff, a HINT of smut (no actual sex scenes of the sorts but they’re quite sexual towards each other)

Synopsis: If ATZ were asked what their prized possession is, they wouldn’t say what you think. It isn’t the money, the cars, the jewels, the priceless paintings or anything of the sorts. As cheesy and unexpected as it sounds, they would answer each other. Now while on surface that is true, the reality of it is their most prized possession, their true treasure, the one they don’t even dare let people know they have in true fear of it getting taken away, is you. Their Princess. So what would happen when one night, you don’t come home?

Warnings: Kidnapping, major violence, implied sexual activity, death/murder (not of the major characters), alcohol consumption, Arson, MxM of course. So because of all of this please ⚠️MNDI⚠️ if I missed anything please let me know!

Word count: 5.3k words

A/N: It’s finally here!!! My goodness you guys loved that teaser 😭 I’m so grateful for all your enthusiasm! I hope this fic lives up to your expectations!! Happy reading!! Please tell me what you think! Likes, replies and reblogs are so appreciated!

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

On one side of the outskirts of town, there is this mansion belonging to a very interesting group of people. As of this moment throughout the gargantuan mansion, the sounds of fast paced footsteps can be heard. While loud or fast paced footsteps like these weren’t necessarily uncommon.

However somehow everyone who heard them deep down knew, something was wrong.

Suddenly said footsteps came to a stop as the sound of the door to the meeting room was opened.

Then the dreaded question was asked.

“My loves, have any of you seen or heard from Princess?”

Silence.

Just like that it became nothing but silence as all discussions of work seems to halt after hearing Yeosangs question.

“Is.. she not home yet?” Seonghwa asked softly.

“Well.. I can’t find her anywhere and she’s not answering her phone…”

“What?!” Wooyoung exclaimed as he quickly pulled out his phone and called her number.

Yunho took a glance to the clock on the wall and saw how late it was.

“It’s past her curfew. She knows she’s supposed to be home by now.”

“Forget that! She knows to always answer us. And she’s literally not answering us!” Wooyoung groans after the call goes unanswered.

“She’s just supposed to go shopping again!” Jongho exclaims.

The rest of the men in the room were silent. Frozen in fear and contemplation of what happened to you and where could you possibly be.

Suddenly they hear the front door open.

Believing its you, they wasted no time and quickly rushed down. However what they find are only your body guards, bloodied and bruised.

You?

Nowhere in sight.

At the sight of their bosses, your guards quickly got on their hands and knees. A position that screams begging for forgiveness.

“S-sirs! We’re sorry! So terribly sorry!! One second we were watching over her then the next we go-“

BANG

Hongjoong had no need for useless explanations or excuses.

His Princess was taken.

All he needs now is her back.

Mingi takes the gun from Hongjoongs hand and steps forward.

He kneels in front of one of the other guards and grabs him by the hair, positioning the gun under his chin.

“Where?”

“D-downtown! The alley near her favorite Chanel store!”

BANG

Jongho then takes the gun and aims it at the last guard.

“SIR! Please no forgive me!! I will find her! I will-“

BANG

Protecting you and making sure you come home safe was these guards only job. And yet they have failed.

Now they’ve lost you and to them there is no greater sin.

As Yunho is cleaning the blood off of Mingi’s face, Seonghwa turns to the maids and the henchmen stationed in the room. Clearly terrified as they’ve never seen their bosses so angry.

“Clean this up. We want this place spotless. Not a single trace of these sinners left behind. And get everyone to work. Find her. Check every corner. Turn every stone. Use any informant we have. Use any methods you can think of. Do what you must! And Find. Her. Now.”

With that they scrambled and quickly got to work.

Your husbands then left the room. Rage and determination emanating from their very being.

They will find you.

And those that took you will pay.

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At another mansion on the other side of town, much smaller than the one he calls home, San is residing. He's currently on an undercover mission to get information they need to get rid of this nuisance of a mafia.

This other group wasn’t really a threat. No one was. However they’ve been getting on their nerves for far too long. So they intended to just wipe them out for their own comfort. Silently, quickly and deadly. Like they always do. Furthermore it’ll maybe also send a message to other groups to not pull the same stunts.

So once they got wind of how the head of the mafia likes collecting and having ‘toys' around no matter the gender they knew one of them had to play the part.

After careful consideration and discussion they agreed upon San.

No one was entirely happy with the idea. They hated the thought that San had to flaunt what was theirs and let another man touch him, possibly even kiss him.

However they knew their options to make this quick were very limited.

They all drew the line that San cannot sleep with him though. Not like San ever wanted to anyway. He would rather die before betraying his loves like that.

Thankfully San knew how to play his part well, where he was fun enough to keep around even if he had yet to sleep with the man. Plus he's too pretty of an eye candy to be let go anyway.

However he still needed to get this information quick, cause he knew he couldn't play celibate forever. The man will eventually want to force him to sleep with him.

So he needed to get out of there before that happens.

Currently San is in the living room in nothing but a fur coat and his boxers, as how the man requests all his toys to dress, with said man and the rest of his toys.

He's just drinking his whiskey as the man plays, wishing he was back home.

When suddenly the door was slammed opened and a girl was thrown to the ground.

"Sir, we've retrieved what you've asked for!"

One of the henchmen announced loudly.

San acted uninterested and nonchalant as he usually does until he glanced at and unfortunately recognized the poor girl on the ground.

..Princess..?

Why were you here??

How were you here???

You’re supposed to be safe at home with the rest!

“Ah yes. So this is ATZ’s precious treasure.” The man said with a shit eating grin causing the diamonds in his teeth to shine in the light.

He then got up and made his way to kneel in front of you. The man then grabbed your chin to make you look at him.

San almost lost it.

How dare his filthy hands touch his Princess?! So roughly at that.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Let go of me you piece of shit.” You growled at him.

“Ah ah.. is this the way you talk to the only one that can spare yo- UGH! Fucking bitch!”

Before he even finished his sentence you spat straight into his face.

In retaliation he gave you a hard slap, knocking you down.

There your eyes met San.

While to an outsider San seemed unbothered, you knew your husband. He was beyond mad. So mad that the devil himself wouldn’t dream of messing with him.

You, of course, knew of his mission. So you understood why he had to just sit there and act like he didn’t know you.

You weren’t even upset.

You missed him too much. It was such a sight to see him again.

Especially in the outfit he’s in.

So you only give him the tiniest comforting smile. Letting him know that you’re okay.

“Lock her up. ATZ will come and find her soon. They’ll make the deal to get her back. And soon I’ll be the most powerful.”

As you were being dragged away, your eyes only lingered on San.

San could only take another sip of his whiskey, with only one thought in his head.

Oh how wrong this man was.

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“What do you mean you have no leads?!?” Mingi barked at the henchmen who gave him the update. Or lack there of.

“I’m sorry sir.. we’re still look-“

CRACK

“We don’t need your useless apologies. Get out there and FIND OUR WIFE. NOW!” Mingi didn’t even let him finish before hurling a heavy desk ornament straight towards his head and yelling at him again.

Bleeding from the head but grateful it wasn’t from a bullet hole, the henchmen hurriedly staggered over to give Mingi, Yeosang, and Wooyoung each a kiss on their rings that dawn their middle finger. Once the obligatory task of showing respect was done he left the room to continue searching for the lady of the household.

The room fell silent again as Mingi walks over to the big portrait of his husbands and you right in the middle. Smiling so wide and beautifully. He’d do anything to make sure that smile stays forever on your face and for him to always see it.

All of them would.

You’ve only been missing for less than 24 hours yet that’s longer than any of you have been apart these past few years without reason. Along with the fact that they knew you were taken forcibly, unease would be an understatement to describe what Mingi and the rest of them are feeling.

Then after a sigh, Wooyoung reached over and rung a bell that was on the desk. Which caused a maid with a tray of glasses and Wooyoung’s favorite bottle of liquor to enter.

Wooyoung took the bottle, disregarding the glasses and took a swig.

“Have we heard back from San? He needs to come home now. I already hated that he had to do this. Now with Princess gone, I need to know that he’s safe too. And I’m sure he’d also want to find her.” Wooyoung rambled, jittery due to the present status of his lovers are up in the air.

“We just sent the message to him. He’ll respond soon.” Yeosang sighed, trying to reassure him by also softly grabbing his hand. However he also then poured himself some of the liquor and took a sip.

Suddenly a rushed knock on the door was heard.

“Come in!” Mingi yelled.

“Sirs! A message from Sir San!” A different henchmen hurriedly walked in and dropped a small note on the table.

“Good. Now leave.” Wooyoung said.

The henchmen nodded, also kissing the rings on their fingers before leaving.

Yeosang then took the note. It was only two words but it caused him to jump up from his seat. He bellowed for whoever was nearby to come in.

“Get Captain! We need to leave now!!” He ordered firmly.

“What?! What did he say?!” Wooyoung asked also jumping up.

‘Causing Mingi to also step forward curiously.

Yeosang merely had to show them the note for them to understand.

‘She’s here.’

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

Locked away in a small and quite frankly ugly room is currently where you are. Truth be told?

You’re just bored.

You wanted to go home.

Thats all.

You knew the second you were taken your husbands will bring upon hell on earth. So you’re just waiting for that to happen.

You’re not sure how they were able to figure out you were their wife in the first place though. Someone on your staff must’ve snitched. Well you can deal with them later.

Right now they just need to hurry and pick you up.

Ugh you bought such a pretty new dress to show off to them…

It’s probably ruined in that dingy disgusting alley by now.

Shame.

A loud thud can suddenly be heard outside of your locked door and it caused your heart to race. Soon the door unlocked to reveal the beauty that is Choi San.

“Sannie!!” You chirped excitedly.

You leaped from the bed only to be pulled back.

“Ugh! Stupid handcuff.” You grumbled. Completely forgetting it was there.

“Oh Princess!!” San said as he made his way to you in a flash, quickly uncuffing you. With a key you’re not so sure where he got it from. A knocked out guard possibly. No matter though.

As now with your arms free you can finally engulf your husband in a big hug once again.

“Oh my sweet darling! What happened?? How are you here???” He asked as he pulled away and checked every inch of you to see where you were hurt.

“I’m not sure my Sannie. One minute I was walking to the car then the next thing I knew these big oafs grabbed me and dragged me here. I’m fine though love! I promise! Minor bruises and scratches is all..” You explained and try to reassure him.

You knew it was in vain though as even a microscopic scratch on you will cause any of your husbands to go on a rampage.

The fact your old butler is now six feet under for giving you a small cut is proof enough.

“Princess.. you’re clearly hurt…” San said with a sigh. “We’re so sorry.. This should’ve never happened.” He apologized softly stroking the bruise on your cheek.

“Hush now my love. You know there’s only one way I could ever possibly be considered hurt. And that is if anything were to ever happen to my precious husbands. Only then. Will I ever consider myself harmed.” Pure love and sincerity lacing your voice.

A voice San truly does miss. It’s been weeks since he’s home. Oh how he misses it.

“Well it’s good to know the feeling is mutual darling. As seeing these bruises and scuffs on your precious skin brings me nothing but great agony and ignites a fire in me like no other.” He explained as he kisses each visible blemish and cut.

“Don’t worry Princess. The others will be here very soon alright? Just sit tight. I need to get back to work to avenge you darling.” Once finished with his reassurance that your husbands are on their way, he finally gives you a kiss you’ve been craving ever since he left the comforts of your home.

“Okay my love. Though do be quick. I’m awfully bored. Oh and by the way..” You start as you softly trail your hand down his chiseled body. “You should start dressing like this at home. I’m sure the others would also very much enjoy it!” You giggle as your hand made it to his crotch. Cupping it.

Oh you missed the little twitch it does so much.

“Ah yes, hmm your wish is forever my command Princess.” He replies with a chuckle. He then takes your hand and kisses the wedding band on your finger softly.

“I love you Princess. I’ll be back.”

“I love you too.”

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

“Ah yes. Mr. Jeong. Welcome to my humble abode! I see my offer finally has caught your eye.”

Yunho doesn’t bother to reply before walking in.

“My, how rude you are. But very well. I’m sure you’re uneasy as.. something is missing.” The man then continues to taunt with a smirk.

Yunho’s face remains stoic, however his fist clenches a bit tighter.

“I have no time for your games.” Yunho simply states before letting himself into the mans office. Yunho then sits down and tells the man to do the same. “State exactly what it is you want. We’ll talk from there.”

The man lets out a scoff before sitting down across from him.

He then claps his hand which causes a very familiar man to walk in to bring in a tray of drinks.

“Thank you San.” The man says in a smirk, once again causing the diamonds in his mouth to shine.

San simply ignores him.

No longer seeing the need to act accordingly.

As San makes his way to leave, he gets stopped by a hand on his exposed abdomen.

“Excuse me. I don’t believe I’ve given you permission to touch my lovely toys.” The man warns Yunho.

Who is simply admiring his husband.

“Hmm… well, ‘your toy.’ Is quite the specimen I must say. Can’t seem to help myself.” Yunho says with a smirk towards San, running his hand up and down his body.

Oh lord how much they’ve missed each other’s touch.

With San’s back facing the man, he can’t see the smirk that San reciprocates to Yunho. Yunho lets out a soft chuckle before taking San’s hand and kissing his ring finger. That was unfortunately currently empty.

“Leave San.” The man growls.

San does. But not before softly grazing his fingers across Yunho’s broad shoulders.

“Odd.. he usually never lets anyone else touch him…” the man mumbles to himself softly. Too stupid to realize what’s going on.

“So you’ve stolen our Princess. Due to that you expect us to work with you. Is that it?” Yunho finally cuts to the chase.

“Well you’d do anything to get her back wouldn’t you?” The man replies cockily.

“Naturally.”

“Well then work with me. Then I’ll set her free. Simple!”

CRASH

“You’re a bigger idiot than we thought.”

Suddenly the sounds of bullets firing, screams and yells can be heard throughout the mansion.

The man, the coward he truly is, instinctively hides under the desk at all the noise. However that desks gets thrown off of him, revealing Yunho standing above him. Gun aimed straight to his forehead.

“Run.”

Without a second thought he books it out of the room. Only to be met with the bodies of his henchmen, maids and toys scattered about. Blood coating the walls and floors. He was frozen in shock. That is before a bullet goes flying near his head grazing his ear.

“AH!”

“I said. Run.”

The man once again runs, but also stupidly tries his luck and pulls out his own gun. Before he could even aim at Yunho, his gun was shot out of his hand.

“The more you try to survive. The less likely it’ll be the case. So when my husband tells you to run. You run.” Jongho simply states standing in the living room. Surrounded by dead bodies, shattered chandeliers, ruined paintings, and mangled musical instruments.

While he was devastated at the state of his fortune he was thankfully still smart enough to value his life more. So he began to rush again.

He thought that maybe he could take the shortcut that leads to his garage through his dining room. So thats where his running legs took him as bullets were still flying everywhere. So much so that he can’t tell which came from his own men and which came from ATZ.

As he made it into the dining room he was only met with the sight of his most precious car on top of his dining table.

“Oh? Were you planning on escaping with this? Hmm. That doesn’t seem possible now does it?” Seonghwa taunts while sitting on the roof of the car.

“All this over some girl?!?!” The man roars enraged of what has become of his hard work.

Seonghwa’s expression hardens in the blink of an eye. Without another word he stands and pulls out his gun then starts shooting at the man without mercy.

The man realizes his mistake too late and gets shot in the shoulder and grazed on the thigh. However the adrenaline pumping through his veins was still enough to have him dashing out of the room.

He no longer has a plan and getting slightly dazed from the blood he’s losing, he’s just trying to get out of there. He opens the nearest door to him hoping it’ll lead to an exit.

Unfortunately for him, once again he’s met with a horrible sight and sound.

“Ah! You’ve finally come to play!” Yeosang says with a smile laced with venom.

What the man has stumbled into is his indoor tennis courtroom. Where currently Yeosang and Yunho have gathered a bunch of his henchmen, somehow tied up their upper bodies, and made them into moving targets for their tennis practice.

Many of his henchmen had succumbed to their injuries and their blood has splattered and painted the walls, floor and ceiling.

Frozen in shock due to the gruesome display, Yunho took the opportunity to serve and strike a tennis ball straight to the mans face.

“Wonderful shot my love!!” Yeosang cheers.

“Your turn handsome.”

Yeosang then wastes no time before doing the same and hitting the man right on the crotch.

“Oops wasn’t aiming for that but I’ll take it.”

“I would say you got a higher score than me.” Yunho chuckles.

This man still doesn’t give up however.

Not like the boys wanted him too anyway. They always loved a challenge and this man hasn’t even payed a fraction of his sins.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

After hearing the commotion thats happening outside your ugly holding room, you knew it only meant one thing.

Your lovely husbands are finally here to pick you up.

While the man that thought he could have his way by kidnapping you was being dealt with, the door to your room opened revealing your knights in shining armor.

Oh my! They look absolutely gorgeous in their suits.

If circumstances were any different you would’ve happily have them take you right then and there.

“My loves!!!” You screeched happily and skipped your way over to them.

“Oh Princess!!!” Wooyoung exclaimed happily as he wrapped you up in his arms.

Seonghwa and Jongho doing the same.

“Are you hurt Princess??” Seonghwa asked worriedly. “Oh my you are! Oh we’re so sorry darling…” Seonghwa didn’t even let you answer.

“My loves I’m fine! I promise I’m fine! I have you here, I’m alright. Where are the others..?” You ask with a pout.

“Oh they’re dealing with pests right now Princess don’t worry. It won’t take them too long.” Jongho says with a soft comforting smile.

“Hmm alright.. are you three taking me home?”

“Yes we are darling! Come no- goodness! what an ugly room they kept you in!! Our Princess doesn’t deserve this?!” Wooyoung then exclaims when finally taking notice of the room. Genuinely upset that you were kept in such an ugly room.

“I know right?! It’s so tacky!!” You say with an eyeroll. Seonghwa and Jongho can only chuckle at your antics.

The three of them then safely brought you outside. Where you were met with Hongjoong waiting patiently on the hood of the limousine.

Also looking immensely good. As in ‘please fuck me right now’ levels of good.

Alas.

Circumstances didn’t allow it.

“Joongie!!!” You exclaim happily as you sprint to him.

Hongjoong quickly opens his arms for you. You jump into his arms as he picks you up and spins you around.

“Oh our Princess.. we were so worried. We’re so glad you’re okay!” Hongjoong sighs in relief.

“Of course I’m okay! You’re my husbands! Nothing will ever harm me!” You say with your gorgeous smile.

“You were taken sweetie.. We’re oh so sorry…”

“Oh enough with your apologies! I’m fine! I promise I’m fine! It seems like you guys constantly forget my vows! Now that hurts! You know I’m only ever hurt when you guys are!” You remind them.

“Well the bruises on your sweet body may not hurt you but they do hurt us sweetie. So that makes it hurt you!” Wooyoung explains going off your logic.

“Alright smarty pants!” You huff.

“Besides! You all bruise me constantly! Do you not?” You tease.

“Those are different love.” Seonghwa says with a knowing glance and grin. Stepping closer to you.

“You know that very well. Any bruising or scratches done to your skin that is caused by us is all because you wished for it. Done specifically for your pleasure.” Jongho says as he leans forward as well to kisses a certain spot under your jaw.

You quickly bit your lip to suppress the moan bubbling up your throat.

Once Jongho pulls away, and you’ve calmed down, you look at all of them properly and smile.

“In all seriousness I’m fine my loves. I really am. You’re here now. You saved me. Like I knew you would. What happened to me was not because of you. Someone betrayed us that I’m sure of and we can deal with that later. Now can you all just take me home?”

“Very well our sweet.” Seonghwa says with a smile as he steps forward to kiss the crown of your head.

As you were about to enter the car you noticed Hongjoong still just standing there.

“My love? Are you not coming with?” You ask.

“Not yet Princess. I need to watch over and there are things I must do. Go home with the others. We’ll be home soon.” He informs with a smile.

“Hmm very well… Don’t take too long though! Tell that to the others too! I miss my husbands!!” You grumble.

“And we miss you. No worries. Being away from you after everything that has happened aches me as much as you.”

“Hmm alright. See you soon my beloved.”

With a final flying kiss goodbye, you enter the car with the rest. You all then drive off as Hongjoong turns around and looks at the mess he intends to finish.

Back in what was once a mansion, with the help of his henchmen that are still abled bodied and loyal to him. The man that caused all of this is executing a plan of escape.

They were finally able to sneak past all of the chaos that was still happening, to the last functioning escape car they know of.

Or so they thought.

Before they could even start the car. That wouldn’t have worked anyway.

They noticed San standing in front of it.

With an expression none of them have ever seen.

“San..?” The man questions as he thought San would’ve been killed as well.

San without even thinking twice, pulls out his own gun and shoots the very last henchmen he had, dead.

Merely as second after their bodies slumped over, a fist slammed into the window of the mans side, cracking it.

“Get out.”

Laughed.

The man laughed.

Thats the only thing he can do in this situation.

Incredibly bloodied, bruised and broken.

With everything he had worked for.

Gone. In less than a 12 hours.

All because he thought he could kidnap you and get away with it.

He then finally got out and stood in front of Mingi.

Where Mingi happily grabbed him by the back of the collar and dragged him to the front of the mansion. Here he threw him down in front of the feet of his lovers that had stayed behind. Their sea of henchmen standing behind them.

Before Hongjoong even acknowledged him, he turned to San. Admiring his body that he missed as much as the others but then clicks his tongue. He grabbed the fur coat San was still wearing then asked.

“He gave you this?”

San simply nodded.

Scoffing he tugs on it more, silently telling San to take it off as he takes his own off.

“No husband of mine will wear such a cheap and ugly fur coat like this any longer.” He complains as he puts his coat on San.

Thankfully he wore the big sized one today. It fits San perfectly.

“H-husband..?”

“Yes. Husband.” Hongjoong replies still admiring San but now also running his hand up and down his body.

Now these are the touches San’s been craving for all these weeks.

“Oh which reminds me!” Yeosang exclaims before pulling out a familiar gold band.

Seeing this causes a huge smile to appear on San’s face and his eyes to light up.

As he did many years ago, Yeosang took San’s hand and slipped his wedding ring back right where it belongs. Kissing it to seal the deal.

“Hmm. Much better. Oh also! You should start dressing like this at home.” The smirk never leaving Hongjoong as he says it.

“I agree.” Mingi states.

The other lovers humming in agreement.

San could only chuckle.

“Princess said the same thing.”

“Well we must make it happen then.” Yunho said with a wide cheeky smile.

“What the fuck is going on?!”

Oh they forgot he was there-

“You really did mess with the wrong people you stupid man.” Yeosang sighs bored of the man already.

“I have a name?!”

“We clearly don’t care. And it clearly won’t matter anymore.” Mingi says with an eyeroll as he flicks open a lighter.

“So this is it? You’re gonna set me on fire?”

“Yes.” San says.

The mans eyes shot wide. Somehow not expecting the blunt answer.

“Not before you watch everything you have burn of course.” Hongjoong says as Mingi throws the lighter behind the man.

The lighter then lands in a trail of gasoline that leads to mangled furniture and fortunes that are strewn about, before leading to the actual mansion.

It doesn’t take long until everything goes up in flames.

The man watches in agony as everything. Everything. Burns. He then turns to the men and curses.

“You’ve taken everything.. literally everything. Must you really kill me too?” The man asks somehow still trying to make it out of this alive.

“I won’t bother you again… I’ll just vanish. Live a quiet life please. You won’t gain anything from killing me. You got her back!!!” He bargains.

SMACK

“Don’t even think about mentioning her again. No. Don’t even think about her. Your mind is not worthy to have her in it.” Hongjoong says after slapping him straight across the face.

“You’re right though. We won’t gain anything from your death. We won’t even gain satisfaction.” Yunho starts.

“However. We’re merely just punishing sinners.” Yeosang continues.

“Before you even bother. No. You haven’t suffered enough. Not even close. But we could’ve done much more. So consider yourself lucky. As of now at least. As we’re sure in hell you’ll suffer even more for what you’ve done.” Mingi adds with a gleaming smirk.

“You took our Princess. Your greatest sin and stupidest mistake. So for that. You must pay the price.” San explains further.

“To put it simply. You gotta die.” Hongjoong finishes as he steps forward and grabs the mans collar.

“‘Cause you being alive is still a sin in itself. Why? Well... you’re still breathing her air.”

And with that, Hongjoong merely gives him one last shove. Making the man fall back into the flames.

His screams of suffering can be heard for miles. However due to his extensive injuries it didn’t take long for said screams to just stop. Leaving nothing but the melody of crackling fire in the air.

Once that happened, Hongjoong lazily chucked in San’s old fur coat into the flames as well. Coincidentally the coat landed perfectly on the mans, now charred, body. This action actually made Yunho chuckle.

“Oh. Like he needed that. I’m sure he’s toasty enough.” Yunho commented sarcastically.

In turn causing everyone else to also let out a laugh.

“Well. Thought he might want to descend to hell wearing what he thinks is fashion.” Hongjoong reasons with a shrug.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

As the fire burned on ATZ and their henchmen just watched. Making sure everything gets burned to the ground. Took a while but it was beautiful in a way so they didn’t mind.

Once the fire started dying down the sound of a car approaching was heard.

Odd.

They were supposed to wait at home.

The car came to a halt and then the rest of ATZ exited. As they walked up to ones who were watching, the henchmen parted straight down the middle to make way before returning to position.

The rest that just arrived now stand next to the others as they also tuned in to watch the fire.

“Weren’t you all supposed to wait at home and keep Princess company?” Yeosang asked.

“Well we were. But we all missed you too much. And you know Princess loves watching the show. Plus.. she was getting needy for all of us.” Seonghwa explains with a subtle smile.

“Aaah I see. Oh! But she shouldn’t be breathing this much smoke though!” San says worriedly.

“Relax. We made her wait in the car. She can still view it well but she won’t be in harms way.” Jongho reassures before handing San a pair of pants.

“Good. Oh? What’s this? You’re not enjoying seeing me like this like the others are Jongie?” San teases.

Jongho simply rolls his eyes and ignores him. Biting the inside of his cheek hoping no one notices his flushed cheeks. Also trying to not look down at San’s bulge.

“I think he just doesn’t want to be distracted. This is the first time we’ve seen you in weeks Sannie. We missed you very much. You and your sexy body.” Mingi says as he nudges Jongho’s shoulder.

Jongho just softly nudges Mingi back.

“Just say you miss my cock.”

“We all do.” Wooyoung chirped in with a smack to San’s ass.

A couple of hours past before the fire finally dies down and the smoke begins to clear.

Their work here is finally done.

And just ust like that the car door then opens.

Then out walks you, their Princess, wearing one of your newest most lavish and expensive dress in your favorite color. You’re also all dolled up just for them.

At the sight of you exiting the car, the sea of henchmen that were still standing behind your husbands, quickly part to make way like before. However this time, they also got down on their knees, head down, in respect.

As they should.

“What a beautiful sight! Oh my loves you outdid yourselves with this one!” You praise them giddy as if you weren’t talking about the scene of a gruesome massacre.

“An appropriate punishment for such a sinner don’t you think Princess?” Hongjoong asks as he takes your hand.

“I suppose.” You hum as you stand beside him.

“Now that you’re done, can we please leave? I’m hungry!”

“Ah! One more thing before we leave!” Hongjoong announces as he walks towards the ashes.

In said ashes, there lies the skeleton of the man that started all of this. With a wide smirk on his face, Hongjoong carefully crouches down and picks up a small but very sparkly diamond from the teeth of said skeleton.

Hongjoong, smirk not faltering even a bit, makes his way back to you and takes your hand.

“What do you think princess? Shall we customize you a new ring?” He asks showing the diamond.

“Oh my! Yes please! Oh! And check for any more jewels that are left behind in these ashes and rubble! We shouldn’t let such pretty things go to waste.”

“Of course darling.” Jongho starts before turning his attention to the men that were still on their knees before you.

“You heard her.”

“YES SIR!”

Like that they all got up, bowed to you once more before rushing to the ashes where a lavish mansion once stood. In search of anything shiny that might please you.

“Hmmm can we pleeeasee eat now?” You ask with a pout.

“Yes we can our Princess. Yes we can.” Seonghwa tells you with a smile as they all lead you back to the car.

“Can we go to my favorite place tonight?”

“Anything for our Princess.”

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

Bonus ending! ♡

© mimikittysblog 2024

Tagging: @faeprincess777 @starygw3n @bee-gremlin @pinkpearlstar @sweetinsaniiity @puppyminnnie @borahae-reads @spenceatiny18 @justconniez @rosydipity @vtyb23 @beccaskz @boredlol914 @ntlmundy @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @ateezswonderland @peachyy-jooniee @robertsbbygirl @hanniehq @smally97 @pixie0627 @haven-cove @jaerisdiction @btskzfav @bbyunicornbby @tinybada @cecilleasworld @mudent @mortal-advocate @jjcanwrite

Those who are italicized I could not tag for some reason :(

[a1ecmcdowell]

all the times mechanic!dean was humbled by bimbo!reader - 18+

★ ˚⋆

dean was convinced, a lot of the time, that not a single coherent thought existed in the white noise of your brain, just accepting that you were one of those girls with a pretty face to her legacy. it wasn't a bad thing. he'd never admit it, but seeing your face light up when he explained something to you was one of his favorite looks on you - the glimmering wide eyes, the o-shaped part of your glossy lips as the pieces clicked into place.

other times, he was floored by the capacity of that pretty little head and the information it held. completely floored. you never said anything with malice either, or chastised him for not thinking in the same way that you did. just stated the things like fact, typing away on your pretty pink iphone with your pretty pink manicured nails, not even looking up to see that you'd taken his breath away.

there were a lot more of these instances than he cared to admit. he was a proud, prideful kind of guy, often convinced that it was his way or the highway.

until you came around.

he'd started a list on his phone, of some of those times, cementing them into a vault of your history. maybe he'd show it to you on your wedding or something cheesy like that, that he knew you would love. or maybe he'd keep it to himself, as to not humble himself further.

when you'd called a car's failing engine a "tummy ache", and that was how he figured out that the cause was the owner putting in the wrong gas.

the first time you talked him into trying on your panties, and he'd tried to deny it heavily, and you'd said, "it's just clothes." and it was so simple but he'd never thought of it like that. like holy shit, yeah, it's just clothes.

when you'd tried to hook up with him at his work, in the backseat of his car no less, and dean desperately tried to keep some semblance of professionalism at his job, and you were like "who's gonna see? no one comes here." and he proceeded to fuck you into the leather with, you guessed it; not a single customer to see the fogged windows and the rattling frame.

you got him to start saying things are cunty and that's not even the humbling part. the fact that he could not fucking stop himself from calling everything cunty when you were around was.

when you'd called the stars "little suns" and now every time he looks at the night sky, he can't help but think if you're looking at the little suns too.

he'd been staying late trying to finish a car and you'd gotten upset and told him "who's gonna need their car this late?" and yeah. who the hell was? he made it home in five minutes and made up for his time away.

he told you that one day he'd take you to meet his family and you called them the witch burners with the straightest face he'd ever seen. yeah. they did do that sometimes. but don't say that to their face.

sometimes his old habits would kick in and he'd start doing everything for you, like he did growing up with sammy, and you remind him every time that you were his baby but not his baby.

he joked that you were baby vers. 2, and you'd said, "you can't call everything you park yourself in baby." he started calling you princess immediately after.

he'd grabbed your hair once when you were bent over during sex and you whirled around so fast he honestly thought you were going to kill him. like there was more fear in his eyes then than there was in some of the hunts he did before he retired.

when you insisted in front of his coworkers that, no, you did not want to drive your car if he was there to tote you around already. like, fuck him, honestly, for not assuming you would want to be chauffeured. he was still living that shit down.

"no, dean, i'm not blowing you right now, this is a chanel lip gloss." right. because he was supposed to know what that meant. "i am not wiping chanel off with a paper towel, dean." tell chanel to get off her fucking high horse, thanks!

he tried to be romantic once and put his hand on your thigh while driving and you glanced down with a pout and said, "your filthy oil hands :(" with that exact sad face. he didn't know how else to convey the utter devastation in his typed list without the fucking emoticon. you'd have thought he ran over your baby or something.

notes, guys ... i fear they are rent free rn. something ab grumpy/sunshine in any form is going to do it for me every time.

tags ( if some of these dont work im gonna run up and down the street butt naked on god ) @titsout4nicholas @deans-yn @dipperscavern @devoursweetly @jasvtsc @panickedbitch @t3l3vangelism @jensenacklesfan69 @manicjk @mkendlic @hischrrypie @deanswidow @figthoughts

[lvis44]

Talk To Me // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warnings: SMUT 18+ (Minors DNI), Angst, Mostly unestablished relationship, Unprotected Sex (wrap it before you tap it), Alcohol, Not edited

Word Count: 9.6k+

Summary: It's hard to know what someone else is thinking when you don't let them into your own thoughts, but Lewis will certainly show you exactly what's on his mind If you let him.

Notes: Lmao so my poll was pointless, here's all of it all at once! My little fingers were flying tonight! Some fluff, some angst, some smut, followed by some more fluff, just what we all love. I don't have much to say about this one other than ENJOY! I'll be working on a one shot based on that stupid little gladiator fit, the outfit did nothing for me but THE ARMS AND THE FACE??? best believe we need a lil something based on that. Love y'all!!!

I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx

“I’m so sorry I have to cut this short hun.” Lewis said as he wiped his mouth across the table, his eyes truly apologetic.

“I’m just glad I got to see you for a few minutes while you were here.” You said softly, your heeled foot brushing his calf under the table, your words coming out much shyer than your actions.

It wasn’t that you and Lewis were new to each other, far from it. You had met him at the beginning of his season and now here he was, just a few weeks away from moving to Ferrari. Every break he had he’d made time to see you, yet he’d been a perfect gentleman the entire time. Yes, the pet names were laid on in excess and the touches had begun to linger a few months ago but you were becoming restless for more. You really couldn’t blame yourself when he had the audacity to sit across the table from you looking so incredible, being so sweet every time he suggested you get together. Yes, you may have turned him down at first but this was getting ridiculous, there's no way you two were not on the same page.

“I don’t want to cut anything short, I wish I could stay, I really do,” He paused as he reached forward to grab your hand, “but I have a red carpet in like two days and I have to meet with Eric.”

“Mmm,kay” you huffed out infantly.

“Nah, don’t do that, I’ll see you before I head out, I promise.” He smirked at your attitude, squeezing your hand.

“So you don’t have any time for a pretty girl in between dinner and Eric?” You asked, attempting to layer the sultry and lust in your voice as you let your foot wander higher.

“Y/N.” His voice came out strained but stern, his strong hand grabbing your leg, “I cut it close by even getting dinner with you tonight, just couldn’t stay away.”

“So it sounds like I win over Eric.” You giggled, leaning forward on the table, your calf still in his strong palm.

“Don’t do this to me,” He groaned, “Listen I can leave the tab open, just don’t go home with anyone unless you’re calling me.”

“What if I call you in like 10 minutes?” you giggled again, his hand snaking up your calf despite how composed he was trying to stay.

“Y/N.” He warned, his voice low but his hand never ceasing its exploration.

“Well you go have fun with business things I guess, I’ll be here enjoying the atmosphere and free drinks, as long as I end my night with you.” You told him with a laugh as he stood up, dropping your leg abruptly, no amusement to be shown on his face.

“Not so sure you know what you just asked for baby girl, enjoy the drinks, I’ll send you a car.” Lewis whispered, bent down so only you could hear, making your stomach flip, finishing with a kiss to your cheek.

You watched as his muscular body moved away, staring at him intently as he told the host something while looking directly at you. Through the rest of the evening you enjoyed free drinks while sat with the best view, you listened as the dinner atmosphere turned into a club yet no one disrupted you unless they were refilling your drink. You were happily buzzed and seconds later your phone was buzzing just as much as you were.

“I couldn’t just send a car…” His sultry British accent came over the speaker.

“Are you saying you’re outside to pick me up sir?” You teased him.

“Of course baby, c’mon before I hire someone to drag you out.” He chuckled

“She came in with Lewis Hamilton but he didn't leave with her”

“Heard he's been seeing some woman on the east side.”

“He can't even convince us he likes his car, why would he like her”

The laughter of the girls that were probably too young to be there anyway stuck in your chest. A 15 year olds opinion didn’t matter right? But then again they see the tabloids and you avoid them…

By the time you’re out of the restaurant and into Lewis' car you find yourself in a foul mood, your happy buzz turning into a sad drunk imagining everything he could have done in the last few hours.

“You okay love?” He asks as you plop into the passenger seat, not even waiting for him to see you and open it up for you.

“Mmmm.” You humm, still stupidly in your head.

“Y/N, what’s going on? I’m so sorry I had to leave but-” Lewis starts his argument as he pulls onto the freeway.

“You do whatever you want, Lewis.” You say sharply,

“Woah, where did that come from?” Lewis asks, sharp but inquisitive.

“I should have known you were too good for me, my lew was just a fucking phase. All the damn teenagers in the restaurant knew it… you went and got fucked by someone else, I get it, i made you wait, you’re you, you’re a playboy and I guess-” You try to rant before his hand is against your mouth

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He asks, finally letting your mouth free with a look of pure confusion.

“What am I talking about? Where the hell did you go tonight? What are all those girls talking about?” You ask him sharply.

“Y/N, I went and saw Eric, I told you that. And are you talking about the teenage girls trying to get drinks at the bar?” His voice is firm before turning to further confusion.

“Yes Lewis, I am, they had lots to say as I left.” You try to keep your voice firm but it ends up sounding childish as you slump into your seat, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Y/N, those girls are like 15 years old and probably drunk for the first time in their lives, they were trying to drunkenly flirt with me when I left as if that isn’t a damn felony. Why the hell are you listening to anything they have to say?” His voice is incredulous, unable to process that the night has taken them to this point.

“Well you’re not denying a word they said right now, are you?” You throw back at him.

“I honestly didn’t think I had to!” He exclaims, still in disbelief.

You let out a scoff, turning to look out the window.

“Y/N, c’mon, I had a meeting with Eric, one that I was late to so I could make time to see you, I’m here to pick you up so I can spend more time with YOU. Why the hell would I be off with someone else?” His voice is firm but still holds a faint questioning tone.

“I don’t know, I’m evidently not good enough for you, I don’t even know how or why I caught your attention in the first place. I don’t even know what the hell it is that we’re doing. You haven’t even kissed me Lewis! I constantly feel like an idiot, I sit here wanting you to fuck me and the most I get out of you is you calling me ‘baby’.” You let all of your thoughts come out, against your better judgment, slumping against your seat with a huff.

He is quiet for a moment, stunned to silence. He is struggling between keeping his eyes on the road and staring at you in utter disbelief, a look you would see if you had the guts to steal a glance at him.

“I- I honestly don’t even know where to start…” He says quietly, trailing off.

“You know I’m right, that's why you don't know what to say.” You state as if it's a fact, a sassy quip in your tone as you shrug your shoulders, a sassiness that only comes out after some drinks.

He so badly wants to laugh, not only at your unusual sassiness but at just how ungodly wrong you are, but he knows that he can’t, that he shouldn’t, it would only make everything worse. Instead he does his best to stay firm.

“Sweetheart, no, you couldn’t be further from right. I adore you, I’m just…” He sighs, trying to find the way to explain his feelings without sending you further over the edge, “I’m trying to be a gentleman here, I’m trying to do things a little different than I normally would. I’m out of practice with this whole romance thing and I know that you were skeptical of it at first too. I don’t want to rush you, I just love being around you.”

You scowl at being called out, knowing he’s right, you were very skeptical when you first met him, not convinced that being anything other than an acquaintance of a man of his caliber was a smart idea. You don’t dwell on it though, the liquor in your brain deciding to latch on to something else, ‘he just loves being around you’, there it is, you’re friends.

“So you’re not attracted to me?” You almost whine, if you were sober you would be embarrassed at how it came out but you can’t find it in you to care right now.

“Where the hell did you get that?” He asks, this time he can’t hold back the chuckle.

“You literally just said that you just love being around me.” You point out, still clearly not understanding much of what he said.

“Yes, and I do, how does that translate to me not being attracted to you?” He questions, a small smirk on his face as he notices that your mood is switching slightly from angry to bratty.

“You said JUST, meaning that’s all you want.” You challenge him, reading far too much into his words.

“Y/N, I also said I’m trying to be a gentleman with you and not rush you because of your feelings and boundaries.” He says calmly as he keeps his eyes on the road, trying not to get irritated with the beautiful tipsy woman next to him.

“Well how long were you planning on being a gentleman because I’ve been wanting you to fuck me for about six months now.” You say boldly.

His eyes go wide as he chokes on his own spit, not used to you being so blatant. The two of you flirt, things have gotten suggestive between you two more often than not, but you so boldly admitting something like that is new territory for him. He has to take a moment to gather himself before speaking.

“I- I didn’t know that,” He admits, his voice low, “I honestly thought you had just barely warmed up to the idea of us being more than friends.”

“What about my foot on your crotch tonight seemed like I still wanted to be just your friend?” You laugh in disbelief, slightly unsure if you are bad at putting yourself out there or if he is that bad at reading signs.

“Well yeah, tonight was pretty clear what you wanted, and to be honest I was going to give you exactly that after my meeting, it’s why I picked you up! I’ve been going crazy trying to go slow!” He exclaims.

“Was?” You question quickly.

“What?” He asks, blinking in confusion.

“You said was.” You point out.

“Oh jeez, not this again Y/N.” He huffs, ready for you to be mad at him for a whole new reason.

“No no no, you said ‘was going to give you exactly that’. You don’t want to fuck me anymore?” You pout as you question him.

He once again has to take a moment to gather himself, still unsure how to handle your unabashedness. 

“No, I do! In the future, yes, and I will if you’ll let me, but you got in this car ready to cut my head off or at the very least never speak to me again, I kinda thought that the flirty mood from dinner had gone out the window.” He tries to explain as you near his house. With the argument he hadn’t even taken a moment to consider that maybe he should be dropping you at yours instead.

“So not tonight?” You huff.

“No Y/N, probably not tonight.” He says quietly, a hint of disappointment lingering in his words as he pulls into his driveway.

“Why are we here then?” You ask, unsure of what to do now.

“Just come inside for a bit, you can sleep in the guestroom if you want or I can call you a car later if you really want, but I don’t think this conversation is really done.” He coaxes you, undoing his seatbelt and turning to look at you.

“I feel like I’ve made my points.” You shrug, staying firmly seated in your spot.

This time he truly can’t help but laugh at you, getting out of the car and making his way to your door.

“Well maybe I haven’t made all of mine.” He says as he stands in the doorframe, his hand extended to help you out of the car.

You don’t say anything, choosing to stare straight ahead as the brattiness really sets in.

“Y/N, if you don’t get out of the car on your own I won’t hesitate to pick you up myself, c’mon.” His voice is slightly teasing but you can hear how serious he is.

Finally you sigh in defeat, grabbing his hand to step out of the car. You hate that the second you feel his skin on yours your whole body warms. Tingles go down your spine and everything feels just right, you’re meant to be holding his hand, you’re meant to be so much more than just friends, but right now you’re mad at him, so you do your best to shake it off. You’re confident that you played it cool but he could see the feelings from a mile away, the same warmth enveloping him the moment you placed your smaller hand in his. He would normally tease you, but right now he knows not to muddy the waters, he needs you to actually listen to him when he gets you inside. You snatch your hand back from him once you are standing, watching awkwardly as he grabs your purse and closes the car door before gesturing for you to head towards his house. You feel like a lost puppy, obeying his commands but you can’t help it, your bratty mood only has so much strength. When you get inside you feel out of place, despite having been there many times. You can’t explain exactly why you feel so bizarre about it, maybe it’s that you’re finally sobering up and starting to realize that you still have many doubts, maybe it’s that you’re sobering up and realizing exactly what you accused him of in the car, maybe it’s that you’re sobering up and really becoming aware that you blatantly told the man you wanted him to fuck you, regardless of what it is you would rather not be sober right now. The tension hanging in the air as he puts his jacket away is weighing on you like a heavy snow, you want him to put you out of your misery and break the silence but he doesn’t. Instead he just moves towards the kitchen, leaving you to follow him aimlessly. He grabs a glass from the cupboard as you wander over to his wine cooler, ready to make your selection for the talk you're about to have. Before you can even take in the selections you feel his hands on your waist, guiding you away and toward the kitchen island.

“Nope, I think you’ve had enough, sit.” He says firmly in your ear as he just about places you on a bar stool.

You don’t say anything, just watch as he makes his way back to the other side of the island, filling the glass he’d just taken out with water before he’s sliding it in your direction.

“I’m not thirsty.” You say, staring at the glass in front of you.

“You wanted wine about 20 seconds ago.” He deadpans, calling you out with a raise of his eyebrow.

“You know damn well that's not why I wanted the wine.” You shoot back at him, “You said you had points to make, go ahead.” You prompt him, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible.

He sighs, his shoulders slumping as he shakes his head and a look of amusement creeps its way onto his face. He takes a moment, just staring at you, taking you in and you start to feel uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

“Y/N, I don’t know what else to do.” He admits, sounding defeated.

You don’t respond verbally, furrowing your brow in confusion as you cock your head.

“I know we got to a… I guess a better place, back in the car, but I still don’t think you actually get it.” His voice is quiet, he sounds vulnerable.

This is unusual for you, you’re not used to Lewis being anything other than charming and cocky, to see him look defeated, vulnerable, it makes your stomach twist.

“I don’t get what?” You ask quietly, suddenly feeling slightly guilty.

“Hun, I try so hard. I don’t have enough time, and I know that, and I’m sorry for that, but I do my very best to see you as much as I physically can. When I’m away I try to not let a day go by where I don’t at least text you much less call you. I do stupid things with my schedule if it means I get to spend a few extra minutes with you. We’ve talked about things far deeper and greater than anything I’ve ever told my closest friends. I try to make every time I see you special because I know I’m not around for the casual moments and I have to be honest, most of that I’m not even doing for you. I’m doing it for myself because you are one of the most incredible women that I’ve ever met and I would kick myself if I let you fall through my fingers, yet here I am and it seems like I’ve done just that.” His eyes bore into yours as his words flow out freely, clearly unashamed about his feelings.

“I know you try hard, I never said you didn’t.” You say quietly, feeling almost like a child getting reprimanded after a tantrum.

“I know you didn’t say it, but I can’t help but feel it when you get in my car after a good night and immediately make it very clear that you don’t trust me.” He says firmly, his gaze never leaving yours.

“I do trust you.” You say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Then why are you listening to drunk kids in a bar gossiping about things they know nothing about? Why don’t you tell me what you want with me? Things like the fact that apparently you’ve wanted to fuck me for the last six months? Why didn’t you tell me you were starting to maybe feel differently about this whole relationship after making it very clear that I didn’t have a shot?” His questions pour out in a way that makes your stomach knot, knowing he’s right to question all of it.

“I was drunk.” You answer meekly, hoping answering one question will be enough.

He lets out a dry laugh, “Okay, we’ll write that one off. What about the rest of it, Y/N?”

“It scares the shit out of me.” You admit so quietly you’re not sure he can hear as you stare at the glass of water in front of you.

“Admitting it to me or being with me?” He questions, his voice much softer now.

“All of it.” You say, feeling tears forming in your lash line.

“Explain it to me hun, because from where I am, we have a pretty amazing thing here if we just lean into it.” He says, so softly it could make you burst.

“I spend every day questioning not only why but hell if you’re even attracted to me. I know you have a billion other options so I don’t understand why you keep coming back, I’m afraid I’m just fun for you but then I think about it and I realize I’m not even your fun! We’re in wildly different worlds and I don’t even know how anything would ever work. I worry that you won’t be able to actually commit to anything. I worry that I’m the only one here feeling like this and I’m terrified of looking stupid and I’m terrified of losing the little bit of you that I have.” You rant, your tears now slipping past your lashes.

His face immediately softens when he sees your tears, quickly stepping around the island to get closer to you. He grabs the back of your chair, turning you to face him.

“Y/N, baby, I need to remind you that the very day we met, I point blank asked you out and you turned me down,” He starts quietly, taking your face in his hands to wipe away your tears as they fall, “I argued that we seemed like a good match and you had the audacity to agree with me but told me that you wanted a man that wasn’t fucking around, wouldn’t toss you to the side when he got busy. You told me that a romance with me sounded dangerous and that wasn’t what you were looking for but I couldn’t let you slip away like that so I asked you to let me prove that I could be that for you.”

You both laugh gently, remembering the first encounter that started all of this.

“I’ve been here trying to prove it to you, trying to be the perfect gentleman that you deserve, trying not to rush you, waiting for you to tell me you were ready. You didn’t say anything until tonight. And no, I’m not an idiot, I saw you starting to flirt more openly with me, I noticed you opening up about things, things becoming more intimate, but I swore I wouldn’t cross that line until the day you told me I could. If it’s just the logistics of it, that’s something we can work out, we’re both pretty smart people, I just need you to be honest with me.” He smiles softly at you, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“Please kiss me.” You whimper, if your brain wasn’t processing all his words at a thousand miles an hour in the moment you may have cared about how you sounded, but after his speech all you wanted was his lips on yours.

“Is that your official way of telling me I can cross the line? That you’ll actually consider this?” He asks, his face closer to yours but still needing that final confirmation.

“God yes Lewis, I want you, I want to be yours, I want you to be mine, I’m sorry.” You say quickly, grabbing his arms in an attempt to get him closer.

“No need to apologize, beautiful girl.” The words leave his lips softly before they press against yours.

The second you feel his warm lips and their gentle touch, you melt. You feel complete the second he’s kissed you, unsure why you fought it for so long. His grip on your face is steady, grounding, everything you need. He pulls away much too quickly for your liking, keeping the kiss sweet, too PG for what you’re craving desperately. You chase his lips making him release a giggle that only causes you to pout.

“So you approve, huh?” He teases you, his hands coming down to rest on your waist.

“Oh shush, acting like you didn’t love it too.” You say, your pout morphing into a smirk that you can’t contain.

“I didn’t say I didn’t.” He says, leaning back into your lips.

This time he’s slightly less hesitant, his lips moving against yours gently. You can tell he’s holding back still but you're just too pleased to care, only causing excitement of what's to come when he’s less restrained.

“You know, two hours ago you were ready to rail me and now you’re being almost shy with the kisses.” You laugh at him when you finally pull away for air.

“Ssshhh, I’m just getting used to the territory.” He teases you, placing another peck to your lips.

“About that whole you picking me up to bring me back here and ya know…” You trail off, hoping he gets the hint of where you’d like the evening to go.

He lets out a sigh, pinching your hip before speaking, “I know, but not tonight. Just feel like we need to take a second.”

You pout at him again to which he just chuckles, pecking your pout sweetly.

“You’re the one who wanted to take it slow.” He points out.

“You’re the one who told me I was supposed to get laid tonight.” You throw back at him.

“Well you were the one with her foot on my cock.” He says, his eyebrows raised.

You gulp, the word tumbling from his mouth making your stomach coil in a much different way than earlier in the night.

“I-” You start, all the sudden feeling shy.

“Hmmm, cats got your tongue?” He jests.

“Well you were all ready to fuck me tonight but you wouldn’t even kiss me without explicit consent.” You blurt out, trying to call him on his contradiction.

“Fair point, but you were driving me to a new level of insanity at dinner tonight and I thought I was getting the message loud and clear.” He says calmly, leaning back in to kiss you again.

You silently pray that maybe just maybe he’s going back on his word as his lips move against yours, that maybe he’s changed his mind and you’ll end up in his bed tonight, but much to your dismay he pulls away once again despite your attempts to lock him into you with your arms around his neck.

“I could get used to finally being allowed to kiss you.” He smirks.

“You could be doing a whole lot more than that, but no, you’re keeping up the whole stupid gentleman thing.” You say, irritation seeping through your words.

“You told me you wanted a gentleman.” He throws back with an eyebrow cocked, amusement clear on his face.

“Well you proved that part, I want the rest now.” You almost whine, locking your legs around his waist, trying to pull him in. You find yourself annoyed for the first time by how strong he is when he doesn't move, never before being anything other than pleased by the godlike muscles under his skin.

He simply laughs at you, noticing that you're still a tiny bit tipsy, more unrestrained than usual.

“Alright, well you’ve already become a koala, how about I carry you to bed.” He chuckles, finally moving closer to you, only to pick you up.

You feel weightless and safe in his arms, quickly deciding you would let him carry you anywhere forever, a fact that you apparently accidentally state out loud in your still slightly inebriated state.

“Oh yeah? Well you let me know where you want to be carried and I’ve got you babe.” He simply chuckles as he walks toward the guest room, finding your admission endearing. All you can do is hide your blushing face in the crook of his neck.

When he finally plops you down on the mattress of the guest room you manage to pull him down into a kiss once again, one of his hands finding your waist as the other props him up above you. His lips move slower against yours this time, becoming slightly more explorative as you feel his tongue brush against your bottom lip. You open your mouth, welcoming him eagerly, the taste of him on your tongue is intoxicating. You take one last chance at what you’ve been dying for for months, moving your hand down from his neck to slip beneath the button down that is draped over his skin. You take your time to explore the solid ridges of muscle bulging beneath soft skin, you can imagine every tattoo that your hand brushes against but you wish nothing more than to actually see them. You can’t help but moan into his mouth when you feel his grip on your waist tighten as you touch him. The sound does something to him, you can feel his whole body tense beneath your touch as you make your way to his back, raking your nails lightly down the skin.

“Please Lew, want you so bad.” You whisper against his lips.

He pulls away from you with such urgency that you're convinced he’s about to say no again. He stands tall next to you, staring at you for a moment, just taking in the sight before him. You're laid on his guest bed, your hair strewn against the pillows with your short cocktail dress riding up your thighs. He pauses for a moment, closing his eyes, you wish for nothing more than to know what he’s thinking at that moment.

“Fucking hell,” He sighs and you begin to accept defeat, “yeah, okay, yeah, I can’t act like I’m not dying here anymore, but not here.”

You feel giddy the moment you hear his words, not processing what he meant by ‘not here’ until you're being scooped up bridal style, taking you by surprise.

“Lewis, we were in a bed.” You laugh, leaning in to place soft kisses against his neck that have him faltering in his steps.

“Yeah we were, but mine is much better and if this is happening you’re staying with me for the night.” He states as calmly as he can despite the tension flowing through his body.

It's a short walk before you’re once again being placed on a bed and you have to admit he was right, his bed is much better. You whine when you feel him move away making him laugh at just how needy you are.

“Patience baby girl, gotta find a light so I can see just how amazing you look when I make you cum.” His voice is teasing but serious, making your body flood with anticipation.

Within seconds he’s flicked on a warm light, a lamp by the side of his bed, just enough so you can see him as he stands next to you finishing undoing the last few buttons of his shirt. Your mouth goes dry when he shrugs it down his shoulders and you become nervous at how you might react to seeing him fully naked. It’s not that you haven’t seen Lewis shirtless before, it’s the knowledge that now you get to touch him, you know that his skin will very soon be pressed against yours, and it's driving you insane. You reach out toward him, your hand finding the skin just above his pants before he grabs your wrist.

“What did I just say Y/N?” He says lowly as he moves over you once again, “patience.”

“Been waiting so long Lewis, I don’t have any left.” You whine, your hips bucking up towards him when he presses a kiss just below your ear.

“Mmmm,” He hums through a chuckle before his voice turns thoughtful, “how do you think i feel? Been waiting a hell of a lot longer sweet girl. I gotta savour this.”

His lips tracing your neck are teasing, just enough contact to make you squirm but not enough to satisfy the carnal need brewing inside of you. His hands feel larger than ever before as they trace over your body, groping you in spots you never knew would emit such a reaction from you. He hasn't even taken off your dress yet and he has you a whimpering mess, your hands grasping onto his bare torso. You can feel the smirk of satisfaction on his face as he kisses down your throat, his hands finally reaching for the straps of your dress.

“Do you step in or is there a zipper?” He suddenly asks, taking you by surprise as he pulls away for a moment.

“Huh?” You shake your head, trying your best to come out of the absolute daze he had just put you in.

“Your dress.” He clarifies, not that it helps you any.

“Yeah? What about it?” You ask again, eager to have his lips on you again and still not fully back in your brain.

He smiles, laughing lightly as he shakes his head, “Your dress, did you just step into it or is there a zipper I need to find. It’s so pretty, don’t wanna ruin it.” His hands are massaging your hips as he speaks, not doing much to help you actually process his question.

“Um, there’s a zipper on the side, why did you-” Your question is cut off by his lips on yours once again.

“I’m in fashion baby, I’m familiar.” He mumbles against your lips as his fingers find the zipper, gracefully undoing it before his hands are back at the straps of the dress. Once again he pauses, “You absolutely sure?”

“Positive Lewis, I want this so much.” You tell him, trying to keep your voice firm so he has no further need to question you and delay what you're so desperately seeking.

The moment he hears the words leave your lips he’s back in action, his hands lowering the straps of your dress and pushing it down your body. You become very aware of the fact that you chose to go without a bra for the dress when you see his wide eyes staring at your chest. You almost feel shy but the way he’s looking at you takes any hesitation away. Once he’s taken in his view, he’s leaning down, peppering kisses across your whole chest. You can’t help but moan his name at the feeling of his lips on your skin, your grip on the back of his neck tightening. You almost explode when you feel his warm mouth wrap around your sensitive bud, his thumb brushing gently, teasingly over the other. You aren’t sure how you will be able to actually take it when you get to what you are dying for. You are writhing beneath him, spurring him on with every little whimper he pulls out of you.

“God, the little sounds you make, fucking music.” He murmurs against your skin as his kisses begin to trail lower, making his way down your abdomen.

When he finally reaches your hip you think you truly lose your mind. The one and only thought you can muster is ‘Lewis’. He takes his time, kissing across your pelvic bone, moving lower and kissing down the tops of your thighs. Finally he begins his ascent back up, nibbling on your inner thighs as he does, this tongue tracing circles against your skin that you have a desperate need to feel elsewhere, somewhere he’s been neglecting so far. Finally his fingers hook into the band of your thong, a lacey one you chose specifically for tonight, hoping this would happen finally. He hesitates for a moment, his eyes flicking to yours for a final confirmation.

“Please.” You breath out, lifting your hips to help him remove the tiny piece of fabric.

“Fuck Y/N” He says, just as breathless as you as he takes in the sight before him. He’s looking at you with the same admiration that he had when he took your dress off.

His thumb brushes gently against your folds, enough to make you shiver and moan but not nearly enough to satisfy the desire deep in your bones. You move your hips closer to him, earning a faint chuckle but thankfully he takes the queue, parting you open for himself so he can admire the aching bundle of nerves he’s dying to pull into his mouth. He strokes against you gently, just a few flicks before his thumb is trailing down to your opening, swiping up the wetness that is pooling.

“You’re making a mess, baby.” He tells you, his voice smug.

“Well, do something about it.” You snap back at him, your brattiness coming back with full force.

“Yes ma’am.” He laughs, giving you a playful salute that makes you want to slap him.

All your annoyance however is washed away in an instant when his lips finally suction around your mound, shocking you in a way you didn't know was possible. A loud moan leaves your mouth against your will, your hands moving to grab his bedsheets in an attempt to ground yourself. He groans against you, his tongue flicking in the perfect pattern, the combination sending you onto another planet.

“Oh fuck.” You squeal when he grabs your legs and puts them over his shoulders, diving in deeper and closer than he was before.

His mouth trails down, his nose still bumping against your clit as his tongue prods at your entrance, tasting every bit of you he can. His hands are tight on your hips, keeping you in place to pleasure you exactly how he wants. You can feel your stomach tightening, it’s embarrassingly quick you fear, but then he’s slipping a finger into you, his lips latching around your nerves.

“C’mon baby, I can feel it coming, give it to me.” He mumbles against you, the vibrations going through your spine.

You moan loudly, feeling the tension in your body rise. You’re a writhing mess, no longer able to be anchored by the arm draped across your stomach with little purpose. Just when you think you’re about to hit your peak you feel a second finger slip inside you, the pair hooking in the perfect motion that makes you crumble. You’re shaking as you moan loudly, your vision becoming blurry and your ears ringing as you come undone. His fingers never stop their torment, working you through it to ride out the high. When you finally come back into yourself Lewis is kissing along your thighs and leaving soft kisses to your overly sensitive core, his tongue dipping into you every now and again with a smirk.

“That feel okay?” He asks you when he finally sees you watching him, his tone dripping with the ever cocky ego of his.

“Oh shut up.” You giggle, pushing at his head as you burrow your head into the pillow next to you.

“Hey, c’mon now, don’t try to hide from me.” His voice is much closer than it was before and when you turn your head he’s directly above you, hovering over your face with a blissful smile that makes your heart clench.

“Don’t go getting too big of an ego, I needed a good fuck.” You giggle before his lips come down to meet yours.

“Mmmm, well first of all, just so you know, you taste divine and you look immaculate when you come,” He begins, mumbling against your lips before he trails down to your neck, “second of all, you haven’t gotten the good fuck yet darling,” With that he pulls away to look you dead in the eyes, “think you can handle that? Dying to know how incredible you feel.”

Within seconds you’ve gone from content mush to a horny animal again. You don’t know how your brain let you forget about the best part, you needed to feel him.

“Yes, oh my god please.” You breathe out, bordering on begging but you couldn’t care less in the world in that moment.

Your hands begin to move blindly, trying to find his belt buckle but just fumbling with nothing as you get distracted kissing him once again. He smiles, a genuine kind smile as he pulls away from you, sitting back on his heels to undo his pants himself. There’s something about the genuine happiness on his face that makes your heart clench and your stomach flip. He doesn’t just want a quick fuck, he wants you, he’s happy that its you. It’s not the cocky grin of a man who sweet talked some chick into his bed, it’s the genuine smile of a man who finally has the girl he’s been pining over for a year in front of him and finally on the same page. You’re only left to dwell on how much this means to him, to the both of you, for a mere moment, because soon he is lowering his pants and you catch your first proper glimpse of the prominent bulge threatening to burst his boxer briefs. You can’t hide your reaction, your eyes going wide when you see the size of it. You want to slap yourself, you should have known, you should have been prepared. Not only does the man exude ‘big dick energy’ in every thing that he does and says, he is usually sporting a bulge on the day to day without being hard. He clocks your reaction, a warm chuckle reverberating through his chest.

“Still sure about this?” He asks, his voice soft, catching on to your genuine hesitation.

“Can I see it?” You ask and immediately want to take it back, you feel like a teenager afraid of seeing a dick for the first time.

He laughs softly, kicking off his pants fully before leaning down to kiss you again.

“Of course, you can see it, touch it, measure it, inspect it however you want before you decide.” His words are punctuated by kisses, carrying a teasing lilt with every one.

“Stop, it’s just, your ego obviously doesn’t need it, but it looks bigger than what I’m used to.” You whine, your voice becoming shy as you attempt to dodge his kisses in embarrassment.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” The tease has left his tone, his voice soft and serious now, “we only do whatever you can handle, okay?”

You finally look back at him, embarrassed by your shock. The beautiful brown eyes that you meet hold nothing but sincerity, helping your nerves immensely.

“We’ll go slow, yeah?” He prompts, squeezing your thigh.

You nod, wanting desperately to connect with him that intimately. It’s been a desire burning within you for so long now you can't fathom possibly backing out, you know he’ll take care of you.

“You wanna touch it first?” He asks, his voice sincere but still causing you to laugh, making him join in with you, “Hey, I’m serious, maybe it’ll help.” You can hear the seriousness in his voice behind his giggles.

“Okay, yeah, actually that might help.” You admit, your laughter finally quieting down.

When he rids himself of his boxers you almost go through the same shock again. Firstly because of just how large he is, he’s longer than anyone else you've ever seen and so girthy you’re not sure you will be able to wrap your hand around him. Secondly because there he is, naked in all his glory, his strong thighs proudly showing muscles you could never dream of having, his beautiful torso adorned with intricate images and abs that have made you drool since the first time you saw him without a shirt.Your desire for the man in front of you quickly overtakes any hesitation you’d previously had, quickly sitting up to grab him and pull him towards you, crashing your lips against his. He moans into your mouth as your tongue dances across his. You take all your lust and turn it into gumption, reaching down and gently brushing your hand along his cock. His grip on you tightens and an almost pained whimper leaves his mouth as you do so. You take that as a good sign, reaching in between your own legs to get your fingers wet before wrapping your hand properly around his cock, stroking him gently. A groan leaves his throat as he forcefully pulls his lips away from you.

“There’s no way you just did what I think you did, is there?” He asks you, his eyes blown out, crazed with lust and disbelief.

You just giggle, swiping your thumb over his leaking tip, leaning in again to catch his lip. He lets you stroke him for only a moment before he’s pulling away and grabbing your wrist.

“It feels amazing babe, but if you keep doing that I’m going to cum.” He tells you earnestly, his forehead resting against yours as he breathes heavily.

“Well I kinda thought that was the point of this whole thing.” You giggle at him, knowing exactly what he wants but enjoying getting to tease him if only for a moment.

“The point,” He begins, pushing you down to the bed by your hips so he is hovering over you again, “is that I would rather be inside you when I do.” His words are muffled against your skin as he kisses down your neck, your brain short circuiting.

“Please.” You breathe out for what feels like the hundredth time of the night.

“I got you.” He murmurs, your legs locking around his waist.

You feel his bulbous head trailing through your folds, collecting your wetness. You almost feel as if it must be a dream, there's no way you finally got this lucky. Then you feel the slightest bit of pressure at your opening, he's not even inside you yet and you gasp.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you, we’ll go slow, you just keep telling me how you feel, okay?” He whispers in your ear.

You nod and the second he’s sure you want it you feel him pushing forward, the stretch stinging and feeling like too much yet also feeling absolutely perfect. He only thrusts about a quarter of the way in before he’s pausing.

“How you feelin’ baby girl?” His voice is soothing but you can hear the strain as he asks the question. You need him to keep going, the momentary pain melting into ultimate satisfaction.

“More, oh my god, please.” You moan out.

He finally continues, pushing into you with such care it makes your heart burst. The way he’s handling you makes it evident that this isn’t just a fuck for him, it’s a coupling, He cares more about being close to you and your pleasure than he does the rest of it. When you feel his pelvis meet your clit you clench every muscle in your body, feeling fuller than ever before. He lets out a deep groan, dropping his head into the crook of your neck.

“You let me know when I can move sweetie, but you gotta relax for me. Okay?” You can hear the tension in his voice muffled against your neck, his lips moving against your skin.

You let out a breath, working through the overwhelming feeling of being so full of the man you care so deeply about, your body finally relaxing.

“Please move Lew, I need it.” You whimper out, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“That's my girl.” He says softly, his face just above yours with a soft smile as he begins to thrust.

Within moments he has found a pace that has your toes curling and your nails raking down his back. He is hitting every single spot you need him to, stretching you to the limit in the best way possible, working you to your peak in a shockingly quick manner. He’s not rough, he’s not fast, his movements are slow and languid. If he’s not staring directly into your eyes while he whispers sweet and filthy words to you, his lips are on yours as you swallow each other's moans. You’ve never been happier to have a vocal lover than Lewis, you can tell he is loving every single second, that he is overwhelmed with how good he feels. He’s not holding back a single moan, grunt, or groan and it’s only spurring on your pleasure. He sounds so good, looks so good, and feels so fucking good. You’ve never felt quite this all consumed by a man before, he is all that exists in the moment. He is leaning down on his forearms, his large biceps caging you in and it's all you can do not to lean over and bite them. His voice is in your ear when his tongue isn’t in your mouth, his heavy cock is splitting you in two with every perfectly aimed slow deliberate thrust, his pelvis is dragging across your clit giving you every ounce of pleasure you could ever need.You can already feel your toes clenching and your walls beginning to lock him in as you brace yourself in his shoulders.

“God, you feel fucking perfect, fucking made for me. My girl, all mine, huh?” His voice is rough as he talks to you, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes boring into yours.

You can only nod, tears slipping down your face as even moans refuse to escape your throat.

“That’s it baby, just feel it. Taking it like such a good girl.”

The tone of his voice and the dirty words tumbling from his lips have your stomach clenching, you know you’re almost there and so does he. His slow and steady pattern speeds up every so slightly, still keeping the same intimacy but increasing the obscene pleasure running through your body as his hand snakes down to properly rub at your clit.

“Let go for me Y/N, cum all over my cock, I’m right here, I’ve got you, lemme feel it.” His voice is strained but soothing as he talks you to your release.

Within seconds you let out a guttural moan, your whole body tensing as you feel the coil snap. The only word that can leave your mouth is his name, a chant of ‘Lewis’ leaving your tongue as your mind goes blank. You can faintly feel his thrusts falter before his own groan is matching yours, his head falling to your shoulder as thick ropes of cum lace your walls. You have no idea how long it is that you lay there on his bed completely limp. You have a faint memory of the whimper that left your lips when he finally pulled out of you. You know there was a moment of panic when you saw him begin to walk away but you were so blissed out that you ended up focusing on how good his ass looked. What you don’t know is how long it’s been since he left or how long you’ve been laying there, now all you can think about is how badly you want him back next to you. You try to move to sit up but quickly realize the best you can do is prop yourself up on your elbows. As you struggle, Lewis comes back into the room, holding a wet cloth and a glass of water, a smile across his face as he takes in the sight before him.

“You’ve been gone for forever.” You whine, unaware if it's even true or not, doing your best not to admire the fact that he is still stark naked in front of you.

“I’ve been gone for maybe two minutes,” He laughs, making his way towards you, “honestly didn’t even think you would notice, you seemed pretty content off in some bliss land.”

“Hey, that’s technically your fault.” You weakly argue, falling back onto the bed.

“A fault I will happily take,” He smirks, leaning down toward you and pressing his lips against yours, “again, and again, and again, and again.” Each declaration is sealed with a kiss, making you giggle and very weakly try to push him away.

He finally moves away from his assault of kisses, placing the water on the night stand next to you and moving to part your thighs which immediately makes you protest.

“Lew, it was amazing but I can’t.” You whine, squirming away from him.

“Baby,” He laughs, trying to stay sweet but far too amused by your sex drunk mood, “I wasn’t trying anything, I swear, just wanna clean you up because I think a shower is pretty far from your reality right now.”

“Oh.” You mutter, not used to any of your partners ever taking the time to take care of you afterwards. It was usually you realizing a little while later that you had to make sure you peed at the very least.

Lewis however makes sure to take extra care with you, one hand massaging your thigh as the other wipes the warm cloth against your skin. He does smirk when he reaches your core and sees you flinch the slightest bit, but even with your reaction he stays sweet and careful, caressing you in what can only be described as a loving manner. When he’s done, he throws the cloth carelessly onto the floor, something you would have thought would drive him insane, knowing he’s a tidy control freak. Instead of worrying about it, he runs his hands up your sides, kneading at your flesh in a way that somehow feels intimate but not sexual.

“Do you want to sleep like this? Or do you want some clothes?” He asks gently, placing a kiss to your stomach that once again manages to not feel suggestive somehow.

You can feel yourself getting shy. You know the answer he wants but you really want at least a t-shirt, something about sleeping naked has always made you feel weird. You hesitate for a moment, your answer apparently written all over your face because he just smiles and places another kiss against your skin before getting up and heading towards his closet.

“T-shirt or sweatshirt?” He calls out from within the closet, not an ounce of bother in his tone.

“Sweatshirt?” You answer, unsure of yourself.

“Boxers, shorts, or sweatpants?” He calls out again, unphased by your request.

“Is boxers weird?” You ask, still unsure.

“Nope!” He says, emerging from the closet, now wearing a pair of sweatpants low on his hips, his hand full of a stack of clothing for you.

“I’m sorry.” You mutter as you sit up to take the clothing from him.

“Arms up,” He says, the sweatshirt above your head ready to dress you, making you giggle, “and why are you sorry for wanting to be comfy while you sleep?” His voice is muffled through the thick fabric of the sweatshirt that he places over your head.

“I’m sure you would have rathered, I said naked.” You admit as your head pops out the neck hole making him laugh.

“Sweetie, you’re in my bed, that’s all I need. Want you to be comfortable.” He says sincerely, a soft smile on his face as he leans down to place a kiss on your forehead. “Besides I’ve always been kinda convinced that monsters will grab me if I have a foot out from under my blanket so I can’t blame you for wanting to sleep in something.”

You can’t help but let out a genuine laugh at that, knowing that that was one of your childhood fears yet it still follows one of the most fearless men you know.

“Alright, ya gotta scooch this beautiful bum.” His instructions come out soft with a soft pat to your ass as he slides the boxers up your legs.

Everything about the moment feels so loving and playful, it’s hard to imagine that this man that is saying bum and telling you he’s afraid of monsters under the bed was making you see stars and become delirious mere minutes ago. This was a feeling you could definitely get used to. Once you were dressed, Lewis was prying the blankets out from under you, attempting to make room for himself in the bed, laughing at your lack of movement.

“Okay, first note to self, she’s a damn bed hog.” He said playfully once you were both in the sheets, his arm wrapping around you in an attempt to pull you as close as possible.

“Hey, you can’t possibly already be making a cons list, you wore me down like three hours ago.” You argue, half serious, as he maneuvers you so you’re laying against his chest as he hikes your leg up over his hips.

“Not a cons list, just a things to remember list.” He assures you softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Okay, I suppose I can live with that.” You huff playfully into his chest, your fingers tracing patterns along his pecs.

He hums in satisfaction, evidently enjoying your soft touch on his skin as you cuddle further into him.

“Hey Lewis.” You grab his attention, your voice muffled with your cheek smushed into his chest.

“Yeah baby?” His voice is tired as he massages the back of your head, his other hand tracing soothing patterns on your back underneath his stolen sweatshirt.

“We’re gonna make this work, right?” You ask him, your voice timid but needing to hear the confirmation before you can let yourself fall into a peaceful sleep.

“I’m going to do everything in my damn power Love, would never forgive myself for letting you slip away” He tells you seriously even though you can tell he’s beginning to drift off.

That’s all you needed to hear. You let yourself nestle even further into him than you thought was possible, beyond happy that you finally admitted that this was your man. Nothing could ever be perfect, and while your reservations may still have some validity, nothing was better than this beautiful man underneath you and you were prepared to fight like hell to keep him.

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Boo

Prompt: You end up taking Jack and your daughter trick or treating while Aaron is stuck at work.

Note: I know this Halloween inspired prompt is a little belated but the amount of fluff is worth it. 🥰

“I want that one!” your daughter yelled, grabbing the bigger candy bucket from Jack’s hands. A frown appeared on his face but he seemingly held himself back from acting out. The little 8 year old had way more patience than you did at his age, clearly taking after Aaron’s constant calm and controlled demeanor.

“Hey,” you spoke, crouching down to her level. “Jackers is your brother and you need to be nice to him. We don’t yell and take things away from each other.” She looked back and forth from him to you, an expression of disapproval evident. “Why don’t you try asking him nicely if you can have the bigger bucket, ok?”

You and Jack waited as she stayed silent, clearly struggling with the idea to be polite. Finally, she turned to Jack and spoke. “Can I have Jack?”

He looked over at you and then to the smaller identical bucket by her feet. “Yeah, ok.”

You sighed in relief and gave them both a big smile. For a second, you thought there was gonna be a tantrum happening before you even got a chance to trick or treat but luckily Jack came to your rescue, being the bigger man.

“See, wasn’t that nicer than yelling at Jack?” She just nodded, avoiding eye contact, probably embarrassed that she was in the wrong. “Ok, now let’s go get some candy!”

Like a switch, they were both back to being happy and excited as they ran to the door. You grabbed both of their jackets that you knew they were gonna want later on as well as your little tumbler of wine. That was your treat for the night.

Before leaving the house, you came over to Jack and plopped a king sized Snickers bar in his bucket, giving him a wink and smile once he noticed. He pretended to zip his lips shut and throw away the key, making you laugh.

The first couple of house went smoothly, your daughter clutching onto Jack most of the time, not convinced with the suspicious looking decorations outside of some of the houses. You sent a picture of the two of them to Aaron, knowing he’d want to see how they were doing even if he couldn’t be there.

Aaron: They look adorable. How far have you gotten?

You: Still on our street, but making great headway. Jack is excited to get to Wicker street where he knows they give out the bigger candy.

Aaron: Smart boy. I see he let his sister have the bigger bucket.

You: Yeah, he handled it very well. Reminded me a lot of his father. (;

Aaron: Love to hear that. Gotta go but I love you.

You: Love you too.

You put your phone away just as you heard your daughter scream and watch as she made a beeline for you, leaving Jack in the dust. "Sweetheart, what's the matter?" you asked bending down. She looked absolutely terrified as tears began streaming down her face and the little tiara on her head struggled to stay attached. Instead of answering, she just pointed over to the porch that she had just ran from. You knew then what she was referring to when you saw the dog dressed as a big spider. It took everything in you not to laugh out loud.

"Oh honey, it's a just a doggy. He's dressed up for Halloween just like you." You brushed the hair out of her eyes while she continued crying, completely unconvinced that the dog was not a gigantic spider there to eat her and waited as Jack came back over. He inspected the scene before him, obviously aware of what happened and proceeded to pull a pack of gummy worms out from his bucket of goodies.

"Here. I got you worms," he offered, forcing the candy into her hand. Just like that, the crying stopped immediately as she played with the package, trying to figure out how to open it.

"That was so nice of your brother. Can you say thank you sweetie?"

"Thank you," she repeated. You gave Jack a ruffle on his head and pulled him in for a hug. He was literally the sweetest boy you knew.

"Alright, Jack. You want to lead the way to the next street?" He shook his head in excitement and wasted no time in showing you the way.

After walking up to the first house and receiving two big chocolate bars, he was practically racing to the next house for more.

"Not so fast Jack, stay close." you told him, scanning your surroundings, knowing anything could happen. Your daughter followed in step with you, busy gnawing on some gummy candy that you were sure was gonna end up keeping her up all night. Just before you all reached the next house, someone caught your eye. The tall figure was a bit far away but became increasingly clearer, the closer you got. Jack was the first to identify him.

"Daddy!"

You watched him run ahead and into the arms of your husband, who was still dressed in his work attire. In that moment, you were entirely grateful to the Bureau for their strict dress code. The dress pants, FBI windbreaker, and holstered weapon had you thinking all kinds of dirty scenarios in your head you'd like to play out with him but for the sake of your toddler children, you decided to indulge your fantasies later.

You and your daughter walked over, a gentle smile on your lips as he set Jack down to give her a hug. "Well this is a pleasant surprise." you greeted, giving him a kiss once he came back up.

“Case wrapped up sooner than expected. Figured the team could use an early night considering the occasion."

You pulled him in for another kiss, this time, a slightly longer and deeper, earning a curious hum from him. "What was that for?"

Absentmindedly, you played with his tie and looked up at his boyish expression. "I just really like your Halloween costume."

Being the ever observant special agent he was, it didn't take long for him to understand what you meant as a knowing smirk played on his lips. "I see."

"Daddy, up," your daughter demanded while pulling on his pant leg, interrupting the moment.

“Of course sweetheart.” He propped her up on his hip and gave you one last look before turning his attention to them. “Lead the way Batman,” Aaron spoke to Jack in his costume.

All of you followed after the young boy, it not taking long for both of their candy buckets to fill up and their sugar high to come crashing down. Your daughter had fallen asleep in Aaron’s arms on the walk back and Jack walked hand in hand with you, his pace a lot slower than earlier.

Once in the house, you helped Jack separate his candy while Aaron put your daughter down for bed. "The Twix are my favorite. Dad can have the pretzels and you can have the lollipops," he offered, pushing the less interesting candy towards you.

“Alright. I’ll keep all of your candy in a very secure safe place,” you reassured him, putting his little pile into a ziplock bag. “Why don’t you go get changed into your pj’s and brush your teeth.”

He listened without a fuss, a tired yawn making its way out of his mouth as he shuffled down the hall, passing by his dad who gave him a high five.

You watched him make his way over to you, a playful glint in his eye, his arms snaking their way around your waist before he placed a gentle kiss against your neck. "I thought I could run us a bath. Maybe give you a massage afterwards." His murmured words sent a shiver through you, your body reacting immediately. You turned to face him, your hands slowly pulling down on his jacket zipper, your eyes locked with his.

Leaning in, his lips met yours with a burning passion you loved. Like that was the last kiss he'd ever have. His hand cradled your head, fingers entwining in your hair and as he stepped closer, the faint smell of cologne from that morning still lingered on his clothes, overstimulating your senses. Your hands rested themselves on his torso, grabbing at the fabric, wanting nothing more than to rip it right off his body as his breath hitched, telling you he felt the same way.

"Daddy!" Jack called from down the hall, bringing the both of you back down to earth. He was probably waiting for his nightly bedtime story you made sure to give him, all cuddled up in his bed, surrounded by his numerous stuffies and dressed in his Batman pajamas.

You pulled away from Aaron, his eyes dark and filled with desire.

"Wait for me," he spoke lowly, stepping back from you before heading towards Jack's room, ready to give the shortest bedtime story ever.

[thesecondhandwoman]

A FLAVORFUL SURPRISE

Vi x f!reader

Summary: You and Vi have been dating for sometime, and one thing she’s learned is that you are obsessed with chapstick. But when you buy a new one, she decides that she also wants a taste of them, on your lips.

You and Vi had been together for a while now, and one of the things she loved teasing you about was your ever-expanding chapstick collection. It had started innocently enough, but now, every time you went out, you found yourself drawn to new flavors, whether you meant to or not. It was your little guilty pleasure, and Vi knew it all too well.

Today, you came home with another addition: a tropical fruit blend—mango and coconut. You had a soft spot for fruity scents, and this one was calling your name.

Wanting to try it as soon as possible, you pulled it out of your pocket, twisting the cap off and swiping it across your lips.

Vi, who was lounging on the couch scrolling through her phone, noticed the motion and glanced up. Her eyes immediately zeroed in on the chapstick in your hand.

“Another one?” Vi smirked, raising an eyebrow. “I swear, your collection’s gonna take over our whole place.”

She sat up, clearly amused. “What’d you get this time?”

You chuckled, feeling her eyes on you as you smoothed the chapstick over your lips. “Mango and coconut. Thought I’d go for something tropical today”

Vi’s playful smirk turned into an exaggerated pout as she folded her arms. “Mango and coconut? Getting bold with your choices, huh?” she teased.

You shrugged, grinning at her. “Gotta keep it interesting, you know how it is. Plus, it was the store's new flavor, so..”

Vi pushed herself off the couch and stepped closer, her gaze never leaving the chapstick. She’d always been curious about your collection, often teasing you about how you had one for every occasion. But today, she seemed especially interested.

“Can I try some?” Vi asked, her voice light and playful. “I mean, you always get new ones, but you never let me try. C’mon, just a little taste?”

Your heart skipped a beat. You knew she was joking, but the way she looked at you made your stomach flutter. You hesitated for just a moment before handing her the chapstick. “Alright, alright, you can try.”

Vi took it from your hand but didn’t immediately swipe it onto her own lips. Instead, she tugged you closer, her hands gentle but firm on your waist. You blinked in surprise as she pulled you toward her, her warm breath brushing against your face.

“Vi?” you asked, voice suddenly a little breathless. “What are you—”

She cut you off with a mischievous grin, her lips brushing against yours before you could say anything more. The kiss was soft at first, just a gentle press of lips, but the moment you felt her pull you even closer, it deepened, and your breath caught.

Vi’s hand slid to the back of your neck, her touch tender but insistent. You froze for a second, stunned by the sudden shift, but then you melted into the kiss, feeling her warmth, tasting the sweetness of the mango and coconut chapstick on her lips. Your mind raced, short-circuiting in a whirl of heat and surprise.

When she finally pulled away, her eyes glimmered with mischief, and a satisfied smile played at the corners of her lips.

“Mm…” Vi hummed, her voice soft with amusement. “Well, I’ll be damned. It really does taste like mango and coconut. You weren’t just making that up, huh?”

You were still recovering from the kiss, your thoughts scattered and your face burning. “I—I wasn’t making it up,” you stammered, still trying to process what had just happened.

Vi chuckled, her smile never faltering. She leaned her forehead against yours, teasing, “Well, looks like I’ve got more flavors to try then, don’t I?”

Your heart skipped again as you realized she wasn’t done. You could barely form a response, your brain still on overload. “Vi…” you whispered, your voice shaky.

Vi kissed the tip of your nose, her grin widening. “Don’t worry, babe. I’ll be gentle. But you’re definitely gonna have to share more of your collection with me now.”

You let out a nervous laugh, your mind still spinning from the kiss. The only thing you were sure of now was that, no matter how many chapsticks you had in your collection, there was no flavor you’d ever crave more than Vi’s lips and those sweet kisses they gave you.

[leclarifies]

THE NUMBER YOU HAVE DIALED IS CURRENTLY UNAVAILABLE (LN4)

✰ lando norris x ex!reader ✰

summary → in which lando keeps dialing your number even after you've changed it.

genre → angst (im not sorry)

word count → 2.1k

author's note → remember how i broke ur hearts with carlos sainz angst for my first fic about him? YEAH HERE'S THE LANDO VERSION!!!!!!!! i know yall love it either way so, enjoy reading! very short btw, i just wanted to put something out for today

"where did we go wrong? i know we started out all right. where did we go wrong? i swear i knew we'd last this time." - lany, "13"

it takes three rings.

then he hears that stupid automated voice again, "the number you have dialed is currently unavailable or disconnected, please try—"

"for fuck's sake."

after he ends the attempted call, the furious typing is apparent in the empty, dark room. the artificial keyboard clicking fills the room as he tries his best to reach her. it's futile really, with every text he sends, the more agitated he becomes.

he knew that he shouldn't do this, that she was probably trying her best to move on, but he couldn't. he couldn't let her slip away from his grasp so easily.

"i just want you here for my races, is that so hard to ask for?" lando sounded desperate, he was desperate. he was a guy who needed his girlfriend and it didn't help that his girlfriend couldn't be there with him when he needed it the most, especially at times like these.

she was tired, he could tell, he didn't want to turn this into an argument but he was going to base it off of how she was going to respond, "lando, i can't. you know this. i have family here that i need to support, i can't just quit—"

"i'm not asking you to quit, i'm asking you to come just when you can," lando ruffled his hair so hard that it hurt, "the races are on weekends— for fuck's sake! why can't you just listen to me and actually hear what i'm saying?"

"i am listening! you're not listening to me!" she had tears in her eyes now, he hated it. he hated when he got riled up like this. it wasn't her fault, he knew it but he wanted her around him at least every few races, he hadn't been able to see her on the paddock at all this year and it pained him.

an exasperated sigh leaves his lips and he tries calling again, he knows she's not gonna pick up. he knows that he's probably blocked everywhere, but he wants to try. he wants to talk. he just wanted to fix things.

"the number you have dialed is—"

the next thing he heard was his phone shattering against the wall after he threw it across the room.

it was only two days later when he got a new phone and tried again, it wasn't going to go through. he knew it, but he just wanted to try. he wanted to show her that he was willing to make a compromise with her, just to make sure that she was there for him.

he didn't understand why he raised his voice so easily when it came to her, maybe because emotions ran high and he didn't know what else to do to express himself. he didn't know. all he knew was that he was a selfish prick and he deserved all of this.

he tried again.

"the number you have dialed is cu—"

he wanted to smash that brand new phone into the wall like its predecessor but he held himself back, he knew that the money that was needed to buy him a new phone was priceless to him, he was a formula one driver. it was pennies to him. all that money and he couldn't keep the most priceless thing to him, her.

he didn't care how selfish it sounded, or how convoluted their issues were. he just wanted her here, to hug, to kiss, to just comfort him. he had so many things on his mind right now and it could've been solved just by a simple touch and kiss to the forehead.

he was losing his mind and he knew it.

something akin to a sob bubbles from his throat when he hears the automated voice again.

"the number you have dialed is currently unavailable or disconnected, please try again later."

he fucked up, he knows now. she didn't have to rub it in his face like this, by changing her number and disappearing off of the face of the earth.

he just wanted to be home.

gentle knocking wakes her up from her slumber, it's unusual to get guests at this hour and on top of that, she wasn't expecting anyone. a huff escapes her lips as she gently takes the covers off of her and sits up on the bed. the knocks become more persistent as she begrudgingly gets up from her comfortable bed.

at first, she contemplates whether she should open the door or not but she opens it against her better judgement, her eyes widening when she realizes who it was.

"lando, what are you doing here? aren't you supposed to be in aus—"

she gets engulfed in a hug before she could even utter another word.

inhaling her scent after so long had been a breath of a fresh air for lando, he missed her. she's confused on how lando even knows where she lived. she had moved out of her last flat to avoid him on purpose, and now he's here, when he's supposed to be all the way in australia getting ready for a race.

his hug wasn't reciprocated, unfortunately for him.

"lando—" she was cut off by her ex standing in front of her, his eyes were glassy, puffy, like he had been crying all the way from australia to here.

"i just wanted to see you, that's all."

"we broke up two months ago, you can't just show up in front of my flat like this."

"i know but—"

"there aren't any buts lando, didn't me changing my number make it clear to you?" she folded her arms in front of her chest, her hair was still a mess from sleep and she was in pajamas, but her eyes were nowhere near his, not wanting to have any type of eye contact.

lando could only look down on the ground in embarrassment, he knew it was wrong. he knew he shouldn't have asked her friends where she lived, all of them had turned down his questions, telling him that she wanted nothing to do with him anymore but it wasn't anything a little persistence couldn't solve.

"is that all? you have a race to catch," she didn't even give him the chance to speak before trying to close the door on his face, but he blocked it with his foot, he wanted to talk. to fix things. he knew that things were irreparable but he wanted to try.

lando pushes the door open, despite her insistence of not letting him in, "i want to fix things, love—"

"there's nothing to fix lando, we're done. we've been done. what part of done do you not understand?" she was on the verge of tears, she didn't want to end it with lando, no, not at all but she felt that it was best for the both of them, she couldn't provide him with what he needed and he couldn't with her either, so it was best to just separate because why be in a relationship when you don't feel the love?

her eyes were still on the floor, not even daring to look up at lando's. it hurt for her too of course, just throwing away their year-long relationship out the window when the beginning of their relationship was so lovely, but now all there was is resentment and she didn't want that in her relationship.

lando couldn't utter anything out his mouth, he was stuck in place by her words. he let himself in earlier after he pushed the door open, he gently closed the door behind him before sighing, "we didn't even talk about it, you just decided for yourself that you didn't want to be apart of this anymore, you didn't even wait until my race ended before i could respond. how can i let it go?"

she swallowed the lump in her throat as she looked out the window, still refusing to look at lando, because she knew that if she did, she would start crying, "you just do lando. sometimes break-ups aren't always mutual, sometimes it's one person who doesn't want to be in a relationship anymore. it takes two to tango."

lando tousled with his hair, what could he say to that? she wasn't wrong. she couldn't deny the hurt and sadness that was in his green eyes, she hated that she made him feel that way but they were nothing. they've been broken up. by definition, they didn't have anything to do with eachother anymore, but she still had that care inside of her heart for him. after all, it had only been two months.

"just hear me out, and by the end of tonight, if you don't want to see me anymore, i'm gone. i won't try to contact you anymore," lando gave an ultimatum and she was fine with that, because she knew well that whatever he said, she would still say no.

she sat down on her couch, patting the space next to her to at least give him some sort of hospitality, wanting to hear him out even though she was steadfast in her decision.

"i won't bug you to come to my races anymore, i'll even help you with helping your family—"

"you can't throw money at this problem, lando."

"i'm not throwing money at it, i'm just saying that it's an option and you can take it if you feel like you need it," lando's voice was always pleading— begging for her to hear him out. he wasn't that type of guy, never. all of his exes got the same type of treatment, if they said that they were done, then lando wouldn't even bother.

he was a formula one driver, he didn't have the time.

but for her, he did.

she looks up, her arms still folded in front of her chest, legs curled up beneath her as she tries to find a comfortable position in an uncomfortable situation. glancing at the clock on the coffee table, it read in bright red neon numbers that it at 4:27 am, far too early or late for him to be here.

"we've had a similar conversation before, and i refused. so i'm refusing again," she sighs before meeting lando's eyes for the second time tonight, "i don't understand why you would want to keep this relationship. it doesn't benefit you for dating a poor girl."

"do you really think i care about your financial status?" lando asked, almost if it the thought of him caring about his (ex)girlfriend's financial status was ridiculous. he didn't care, it's the way she made him feel for the entirety of last year. she made him feel whole, like even if the world was against him, she would still be there.

she was used to men coming into her life who could think that they could "save" her and lando was no different to all of those other men. sure, she was definitely struggling trying to pay for her younger siblings education while working and pursuing her degree at the same time but that doesn't mean she was a damsel in distress and she expressed that to lando.

lando closed his eyes in frustration, "no, i didn't mean it like that—"

"well you sure as hell worded it like that," she looks away from him yet again, refusing to meet his eyes again until he had to leave. her eyes were glued to the window that overlooked the city, it was beautiful, calming— peaceful even, "i'm not changing my mind lando, we're worlds apart. i don't need you helping me, i can take care of myself."

with that, lando bit his lip and she ushers him out of her flat.

it had been months since lando's seen her, but he never forgot. he couldn't. the way she smelt, the way she laughed, everything still stuck in his brain as he continued his career.

the world didn't revolve around him, so the show must go on.

calling her old number had also become routine, almost an obsession. every finish, every weekend, anything that had to do with his career, lando would try and call her and tell her how his races were going, as if he wasn't talking to an automated robot on the other end of the line. the automated voice was practically his best friend because he's heard the damn voice so many times.

"the number you have dialed is currently unavailable or disconnected. please try again later."

and try again later he would.

he didn't understand himself, was it an obsession or was it the comfort that it gave him when he dialed her number? he didn't know. but sometimes he would hold up that phone to his ear and talk as if she was on the other end of the line, even though lando knew that there was no one waiting on the other line for him, not anymore.

but, the show must go on, right?

[hhughes]

have u heard tate’s new song… SO jack coded I can’t stop thinking about it

ᡴꪫ ࣪ ݂ yes it’s been on repeat since it came out! i’m a huge tate girlie so obsessed with this thought 🤭

the song is sooo jack coded you’re right nonnie. but for me it’s def like from jack’s perspective if that makes sense? firm believer jack is the biggest lover of physical touch. that boy loves having his hands on you and vice versa.

jack is such a sucker for just the casual touching too yk? like sitting in the car and he has his hand on your thigh, and your hand in resting on his. he gets heart palpitations from that alone.

or when you’re sitting next to each other while in public and your hand is on the back of his neck, casually playing with the little strands there. he loves that 😽

he’s so clingy bf coded and you just know that boy gets needy when he can’t touch you or you’re not giving him the attention he wants :(

“ are you mad at me? ” jack asks from the end of the couch, the movie he was watching playing in the background as you continue scrolling on your phone. he’s been sitting there since he got home, debating whether or not he should ask.

“ no baby, why? ” you ask, frowning at the slight pout present on your boyfriend’s face

“ you didn’t hug me when I came home, and you’re sitting so far away. are you just not in a cuddly mood today? ” jack asks, picking at his nail bed slightly, and you know he was trying to hide how much it was bothering him that you hadn’t initiated any contact with him since he stepped through the door

“ m’always in a cuddly mood with you jacky ,” you say, and he grins softly as you scoot closer, snuggling into his side

“you comfortable? we can lie down another way ” you say, caressing his arm softly and he nods

“ m’perfect. just want your hands on me baby, then i’m all good ” jack answers, expression looking ten times lighter than before when he brushes a kiss against your temple

[daisymbin]

is it possible to request a combo from 2 of the suggestive prompts? 32 and 42 for mingyu x f!reader <3

yes you can!!! omg this is such a good combo...hopefully I did it justice 😅 thank you for requesting!!!

+ please MDNI!!!! this is quite...suggestive?

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist!

suggestive prompt #32: "I think we'd both be more comfortable if you took that off." +

suggestive prompt #42: "I love it when you get all worked up."

the apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional clink of a glass. you were sitting on mingyu's bed at his parent's place, scrolling through your phone when mingyu came in; shirtless with a towel around his waist, his hair still damp from the shower. he looked at you for a moment, his eyes soft but intense.

you barely noticed him at first, too focused on whatever was on your screen, until you heard his voice—low and teasing. “you look good in that,” he said, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk.

“hm?” you blinked, looking up to find him grinning at you. your eyes dropped to the loose, oversized t-shirt you were wearing. it wasn’t anything special, just something comfortable. “this old thing?”

mingyu nodded, pushing himself off the frame and walking toward you. “yeah.” his voice dropped an octave, and the way his eyes darken as they roamed your body made a shiver run down your spine.

you didn’t expect him to be so forward, not after just a simple shower. but his words stirred something in you. you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and desire swirling inside you.

“mingyu…” you started, feeling your pulse quicken as he moved closer. his hands brushed against the side of your knee as he knelt down in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours. his lips hovered just inches from your ear, warm breath making you shiver.

“what?” he murmured, a playful glint in his eye. “don’t tell me you’re shy now.” his hands slid up your legs, his thumbs rubbing small circles on the inside of your thighs.

you let out a soft breath, unable to form a response as his lips traced the line of your jaw. your body was already betraying you, heart racing, breath hitching with every subtle touch. “mingyu, please,” you whispered, a mix of want and hesitation in your voice. “your parents- we can’t…”

“can’t what?” he asked, pulling away slightly to look you in the eye, his expression full of challenge and something more. “tell me what you want, baby.” his thumb brushed against your lower lip, making you lean into his touch without thinking.

you swallowed, the desire bubbling inside you. “i want you,” you whispered, barely audible.

“good,” mingyu muttered as he let out a small smile, his lips crashing against yours before you could say another word. his kiss was deep, heated, the kind that left you breathless and wanting more. his hands roamed over your body, slipping underneath the hem of your shirt, his fingertips brushing against your skin, sending sparks of heat wherever he touched.

his kisses grew more insistent as he pulled you closer, your bodies pressing together, the only thing separating you being the thin fabric of your clothes. you could feel the tension building between you, the way his hands kept finding their way to places they shouldn’t be.

“gyu…” you gasped, trying to catch your breath, but his lips moved to your neck, and you couldn’t stop the quiet moan that escaped your lips.

“i love it when you get all worked up like this,” he said, his voice a mix of amusement and desire. “it drives me crazy.” his hands slid up to your back, tugging your shirt over your head as his hands move quickly; unhooking your bra effortlessly as if he’d done it a hundred times.

your breath hitched as the fabric fell away, leaving you exposed to him. his eyes darkened, his pupils blown wide with lust as he took in the sight of you. “you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his hands tracing your curves with an almost reverent touch.

you couldn’t help but lean into him, the heat between you both too much to ignore. “mingyu… we—”

“shh,” he cut you off with a soft press of his lips to yours, his body moving against yours in a way that made your thoughts scatter. his kisses were hot, demanding, as if he couldn’t get enough of you, and you were all too happy to give him more.

“i think we’d both be more comfortable if you took that off, don't you think?" mingyu said again, a playful smirk sneaks his way to the corner of his lips as his hands ran down your sides, tugging at your shorts.

you were about to protest, but before you could say anything, mingyu was kissing you again, his hands sliding down to your waist, tugging you closer. the moment felt too intense, too real, and you could feel every inch of him against you, every touch igniting something deep within.

his hands traveled lower, tracing the line of your hips, before pulling you onto his lap. your body shifted instinctively, feeling the heat from his chest radiating into yours, the tension crackling in the air between you.

“you have no idea how much i want you right now,” he breathed, his lips brushing against your ear as you tangled your fingers in his hair. you could feel the pulse of his heartbeat under your fingertips, the desire that was mirrored in your own.

“then show me,” you whispered, pressing your body closer to his.

[lesaurita]

♡︎ Katsuki Bakugou as your boyfriend ♡︎

Pairing: fem!reader x Katsuki Bakugou

Genre: fluff, suggestive

Warnings: making out

•° Katsuki is the kind of boyfriend who'd let you sit on his lap on the bed while you do his skincare, keeping his hands on your hips. He just loves seeing you taking care of him.

•° He hates PDA, but he won't hesitate for a second to drag you towards his body with his arm wrapped around your waist, when he sees someone looking at you for a little too long. He's made of 70% jealousy.

•° When he's mad (which is always), just a glance at you is enough to calm his nerves. He'd drag you to his dorm and spend the rest of the day in your company. He's a hot head and you're the only one who has learnt how to calm him down: just stay and cuddle with him (he loves that, even if he'd never admit it).

•° He'd sit in front of your changing room for hours while you try on clothes, and he'd give you his opinions on each one. He'd make you do 360s around yourself admiring how the clothes wrapped perfectly around your body.

•° He'd stay with you in bed all day cuddling you while you're sick, he doesn't want you to think he doesn't care about your health. He's not good at showing his emotions with words, so he demonstrates them with physical touch (when it's just the two of you).

•° When he's drunk he's the opposite of what he usually is: cuddly, keeps kissing you all over your face and says cheesy things to you.

•° When he goes grocery shopping he always gets you the food you love, even if you didn't write them down on the paper you gave him. He loves to spoil you.

•° He brags to his friends about how lucky he is to have you, like winning a prize. He wants to make everyone jealous of what he has and they don't. You're the best thing that ever happened to him in his life.

•° He'd dry your hair, after you wash it, whenever you want, when you're too tired to do it yourself. He'd massage your scalp after doing so. It's his way of showing you he loves you.

•° When he spends time with you, his attention is only on you. He even turns off his phone so he doesn't have any distractions.

•° Are you craving something? Tell him and he'll become a master chef just for you. He also loves when you tie your arms around him from behind, while he's busy cooking.

"What are you cooking, 'suki ?" you ask him while you wrap your hands around his body. Your head resting on his back that goes up and down with his breathing.

"It's a surprise." He responds to your hug with little caresses on your arms with his fingers.

Needless to say that you two will stay like this until he finishes cooking.

•° Everytime he works out at the gym, he'd send you pictures of him in a compression shirt and shorts while he flexes his muscles, because he knows how much they drive you crazy.

•° He would put his hands on your waist every time he passes by you. This boy is touch starved, he just HAS TO touch your body, even for only a few seconds.

•° He usually has only one pet name for you, which is "sweets ". But on certain occasions, like when you're mad at him or nervous, he knows how to make you melt right away: by calling you "doll ". A little unfair, but just a little caress, while his big body encloses yours to make his mouth close to your ear, calling you that, and you already know that your anger won't last long.

"C'mon, doll..." he wrapped his arms around your figure, his chest against your back. "I know you can't be mad at me." You can hear the change in his tone of voice, becoming persuasive.

Katsuki is not the type to resort to certain methods to make you cool down, but it's stronger than him. See you crumble, this wall of anger that you had built crumble at the mere sound of his voice calling you a stupid pet name.

•° His hands are always squeezing you as if you were about to run away at any moment while you are making out. When you break up from the kiss 'cause you're out of breath, it's a matter of seconds before his lips are on yours again. He's a bit possessive.

[hoesluvjude]

Headcannons || jude bellingham

Masterlist

------

● Jude would be so affection and protective, would be big on showing his love, both in public and private. He’d make sure you felt adored, whether it’s through sweet little gestures like holding your hand while walking or resting his hand on your back to guide you through a crowd. Protective but not overbearing, he’d always check in to ensure you’re comfortable and safe.

● And obviously physical touch is his love language. He’s always finding little ways to connect with you. Whether it’s holding your hand, pulling you into a warm hug after a long day, or casually resting his arm around your shoulders, touch would be his way of saying, “I’m here, and I love you.” He’d thrive on those quiet, intimate moments—like cuddling on the couch or brushing a strand of hair from your face—where he can show his affection without needing words. Touch wouldn’t just be romantic for Jude; it would be his way of making you feel safe, loved, and cherished.

● Jude is also playful and fun. Jude has a cheeky side, so expect lots of playful teasing, inside jokes, and random adventures. He’d love surprising you with fun dates and like unexpected late night drives (I know he still can't drive but just pretend) or casual games of football where he lets you score (or pretends to struggle while laughing).

● He is also encouraging and He’d always hype you up and celebrate your achievements, big or small. Whether you’re chasing a career goal or trying something new, Jude would remind you how proud he is of you, often posting subtle but sweet tributes to you on social media.

● Even though his has a busy schedule, he will ALWAYS make time for you. When he’s not busy with football, Jude would be all about spending time with you. Whether it’s a chill day at home -watching your favorite series or exploring a new city together, he’d want to make memories with you, ensuring every moment feels special.

● He’d find the perfect balance between grand romantic gestures and simple moments. A thoughtful gift here, a sweet handwritten note there, but also enjoying everyday things like late-night talks or cooking together (even if he’s not the best at it).

● Despite his fame, Jude would be grounded and committed. He’d prioritize communication in the relationship, always making time for calls or texts when he’s away. He’d also love introducing you to his family, as they’re important to him, and he’d want you to feel like part of the inner circle.

● He would playfully steal your phone to take weird pictures of himself

● He teaches h you about football and get excited if you cheer him on during games.

● He insists on making sure you’re warm enough and would probably wrap you up in his hoodie.

● Jude randomly show up with flowers or something sentimental.

● Calls you "love" or a sweet nickname in his charming accent.

● Jude give the BEST hugs. Whenever you’re feeling down or stressed, he’d wrap you in his arms, making everything feel okay.

● Yall would always have late night talks. After a long day, he’d stay up just to talk with you about anything and everything, sharing his dreams and listening to yours. (Jide is a yapper for sure)

● Take random pictures of you when you’re laughing because he thinks it’s when you look the most beautiful

● He sends you encouraging texts before big events or stressful days

● He always steals your food. (you steal his too) He’d pretend to be sneaky about it, but you’d catch him stealing fries off your plate with a cheeky grin.

● He always remembers the smallest things. He’d surprise you by remembering something random you mentioned months ago, like your favorite candy or a book you wanted to read.

● He loves playing with your hair and he loves it when you play with his.He’d absentmindedly run his fingers through your hair or play with your curls while the two of you are watching a movie or sitting together or when he is laying on top of you and you scratch his neck or play with his hair. He also loves helping take out your braids!

● Sublte matching outfits. He’d casually suggest wearing similar colors or styles, not to be obvious, but just because he loves the idea of the two of you looking like a team

●He Sends you songs that remind him of you or ones he thinks you’d love.

●He tries to speak your home language and makes you laugh whenever he mispronounces words

●He loves to pick you up and spin you around

●He always tries to take care of you when you sick or on your period

●He loves kissing you. Whether it's on your mouth, nose, cheeks, forehead hand ect. He justs loves to do it

[zepskies]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGdFgGL1y/

I’ve been loving this trend and then realised this could literally bmd Ben and reader asking him to show how he would’ve moved to her in the 80s and even better cause he literally experienced it, I can see him being unwilling to entertain but slowly caving in when he sees she’s not breaking and giving him attention until he tries

LOL that's adorable. 😂 Thanks for thinking of Break Me Down (Soldier Boy x Reader)! Seems to be a theme this week lol! I went ahead and watched that TikTok and again it got me imaging the thing...

Imagine Soldier Boy (Ben) "Sliding Up" to You in the Club

I can imagine that coming up in conversation if the reader in BMD was being subjected to watching another one of his music videos. She'd be teasing him, of course, but he'd be defending himself and his career choices. It was the 80s!

And for your information, Ben says, women were fucking falling over themselves to have him sign their Rapture albums. It was frankly irritating when he went out. Sometimes, he just wanted to relax with a smoke and a glass of bourbon at the club. You scoff at that one.

He looks amused. "What, you think you would've been the only girl in America who didn't cream their panties when I showed up?"

You shoot him a wry brow raise. Do you have to remind him how you two met? Being tied to a chair with zip ties comes to mind.

But then, something else occurs to you. The first time you and Ben actually met was in a smokey club in Medellin, Colombia. You'd been "undercover" then, and though you hadn't danced with him, it makes you think...

"Okay, let's say we're at the club," you pose, with a sly smile. "It's 1983..."

You find the song "Too Shy" on your phone; quintessential 80s pop. The smooth riffs start playing. You get up to start vibing near him in the comfort of your living room. You're just swaying side to side with a little sensuous, playful bounce to your step, your hand movements simple.

Ben doesn't want to smile, but you're making it difficult as he lounges half across the couch.

"Come on. How would you slide up on me?" you taunt.

He arches a brow. "Slide?"

"You know what I mean. What was your move, huh?" you ask, teasing him with the curve of your ass and the sway of your hips in your yoga pants.

You saunter closer to him, beckoning him over to you. All the while you sing to yourself, "Too shy, shyyyy. Hush, hush, eye to eye..."

Ben rolls his eyes, reluctant to rise to your bait. But eventually, your teasing is too much for him to ignore. He pulls himself off the couch and comes up behind you.

He takes your hand while you're purposefully facing away from him, and smoothly turns you around, guiding you back into his arms like he's Fred Astaire. You utter a little gasp and grab onto his shoulders. Your gaze flicks up to his with a smile.

His lips curve as he looks down at you. He matches the vibe of the song as he moves along with you, but then he turns you around, holding you from behind with steady hands sliding down the curve of your waist. His strength is tempered just enough for you to feel it.

He gradually moves closer with every bounce of the beat, and soon every part of his body is molded to yours. Your hands fall over his as you subtly lean back against his chest.

He bows his head near your cheek, smiling, because he can hear your heart beating a little faster. His lips brush the shell of your ear.

"Gotcha."

AN: Once again, this turned into a little headcanon/imagine that I wasn't expecting. 🤣 Last post before I'm off on a trip all weekend! 💚

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Break Me Down Masterlist

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@jc-winchester @mxltifxnd0m @bleuatlas @luci-in-trenchcoats

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about old Worst Wolverine being called by each of the X men individually after they have a falling out because Logan injured a child very badly to the point the only reason they didn't die is because another classmates healing abilities all while he just... walked away.

Well- ran.. away... leaving a child to die. He's tried to explain thousands of times that he blacked out, that he didn't remember doing any of this. He tries to say that maybe it was someone else, that mystique did this shit all the time in his universe.

"Yeah, well!? This isn't your universe! Because the REAL Logan would never do this.." Scott screams at him as Logan leaves the Mansion for the last time. He doesn't come back. He didn't even get to tell his Xkits goodbye. It got to the point where Laura dropped out, taking Gabby with her, wanting nothing to do with the school anymore.

So now, here he is. In Maine, an old fisherman, part-time hunter, and the only people he lets around him have healing factors.

He lives with Wade, who still- by the way- doesn't have any grey hairs (maybe because hes bald but- yk)

One night, while Logan is out, making himself feel useful by feeding the small town they're in, providing for more poor families, feeding their children's hungry mouths and asking nothing in return but respect. (It gets to the point that the children cheer when they see Logan, wanting to hug him, but he growls at them to get off, too afraid of hurting them) Wade finally awnsers the ringing phone.

"What." There's vemon in his tone, but soon his eyes widden, and he frowns.

Walking outside he stands there a moment, knowing Logan can hear him.

He ignores him, looking at the fish, litsening, his breathing slowing as he skewers some with his claws. Its not exactly spear fishing but- close.

"What?" His voice is almost annoyed, as if knowing what his long time Husband was about to ask him.

"Logan.."

"No."

"Logan-"

He shakes his head. "Don't care."

"...She's missing."

He pauses, turning after scraping the dead fish into a bucket. "Who's missing?"

"There's a little girl missing."

"So?"

"Logan!"

"I'm not helping them, Wade. That's final." He growls.

For a moment, Wade frowns, but he didn't learn to obey thy husband like the bible said.

He never did.

"Logan, there's a 6 year old out there. All alone. Cold. Probably going to be eaten by wolves!" He shouts from the back porch, knowing his place enough to stay here and not come near his fish. Even after all these years, Logan was still finicky over his food. "And all because some old fart won't help her!"

The silence thickened as Logan thought about it, the hero side of his brain yelling 'We'll find her!' And the hurt old part of him saying 'That's not my buisness.'

".. You find her then." He compromises.

"I can't! And if anyone knows those Canadian woods, it's you! You said you knew those forests like the back of your hand!" Wade protests. "If I could smell someone through miles of freezing snow, I would. But I can't. So here I am, asking The Wolverine to go do what he does best."

He grunts, glaring. "And that is?"

"Helping a little girl get back to her mommy..." Wade says, knowing that he was sold. He knew he was sold the moment he told him to do it himself. "She doesn't have much time, Logan." He sighs, putting a cherry on top.

The greyed man huffed, grumbling under his breath for a moment. "Who will stay here with the dog?"

"Gabby can! She loves gabs." Gott'em.

"What about Laura? Why can't she find her?"

Shit.

"Logan, Laura has barley been in those woods. You've lived in them for years. So. What will it be. Pull up your panties and go save a little girls life? Or do it anyway when our baby girl gets lost too?"

Logan scoffs, disappointed. "..She wouldn't get lost.."

"She would if the scent kept being blown away.."

Wade adds, seeing the 'god damn it, he's right.' look on the old mans brow.

He lets out a large sigh. "...I don't want any help."

"Oh well too fucking bad bucko, I'm gonna go pack my snow suit!"

"No! I mean... I don’t want any help from THEM.."

"No promises. I'm not letting poor Susie die just because you have a grudge. Now put your fish in the freezer and lets go! They're coming to pick us up-"

"I ain't flying!!" Logan snarls, watching as his lover ran off, having a deep feeling that he would be in the air shortly..