#like okay i know their names i like knew they had like charges that were colours

[obaewankenope]

I got caught in the middle of a field once, while horses were chasing each other around being horses trying to establish where the newest one ranked. I was... 10? 11? Somewhere there. If I was alone, I'd have been a lot more panicked and calm in measure because I'd have been able to time it and dive for the fence in the biggest gap among the herd of... I think it was 8 or 9 horses, new one included. The field itself wasn't super huge, probably... 50-75 metres across, maybe a bit smaller (it has been almost 20 years, I'm going off vague Google Maps reference here) and I was in the middle so I could have made that distance quick back then (the pros of being young and also the fastest kid in your primary school at the time).

But.

But I had two other kids with me. They were... I think a year or two younger than me, one of them might have been 7ish, I can't remember exactly, only that they were younger and I was the oldest among us. I wasn't related to these kids, barely knew them or their parents, and we only went together because it was a "hey we've all earned the right to bring our horses in today!! As a treat!" kinda deal.

And, honestly, any other day, it'd have probably been fine. But the matriarch of the herd in the field seemed to have it out for the new horse that day (mine, incidentally, which turned out to be a Good Thing btw).

So the three of us get to the field, we go in because none of the neigh neighs will come to the gate and none of us are Trained Horse Specialists at this point to read that there was a Reason™ for that fact. We get to the middle of the field and we call our respective neigh neighs (mine and theirs, just one other, thankfully), and that's when things Go Wrong.

Matriarch will not accept these lower ranked neighs coming in before her. She will not accept the New Neigh going in before her.

Matriarch must now Teach A Lesson.

Cue a mini stampede of almost ten horses running full speed in this kinda tiny ass field (tbf, they alternated the paddock with the one behind it every fortnight for field management purposes blah blah), and three kids slap-bang in the middle of the field, now trapped.

I am the oldest of us. I am also the youngest of three siblings. I am not the one used to being In Charge of those younger than me. But oh boy did I step into the role like it was made for me.

I keep these kids from howling and running off, grab them with the strongest grip known to man, and make sure they stay with me okay! Stay right next to me! Do NOT run away!

And I watch these horses galloping around, chasing my horse who is so, so smart and so trusting and trustworthy for having only met and bonded with me a few days prior (literally it hadn't even been a week since we got her and she was two and had never been handled before she chose me as Her Human).

I see how she's keeping ahead of the others after her.

I see how she turns on a dime to avoid getting bit and kicked and cornered.

I see how, even though it's harder for her, she doesn't come close to us in the middle, even though it would have been an effective escape route for her several times over.

I see this and I know. I know my girl will not get us hurt if she can help it.

I also know we don't have a lot of time for us to get out and we have to go soon and move fast.

So I keep my iron grip on these two kids whose name I don't even remember (and probably didn't then, I've always been bad with names of people ngl), and I tell them, "when there's a gap, we run for that bit of fence right there okay," and it's directly in front of us, as close as we can safely get without these other 8 or 9 horses trampling us in their herd-mentality race mode.

I watch my girl and I wait for it.

I wait for her to turn when I know she's gonna.

I see the moment she's about to, unable to not turn without getting cut off and caught by the herd.

And when I do, I yell "GO" and I haul these two kids like they're the most precious, durable cargo I've ever held in my eleven years of life over to that bit of fence and I make them drop and role under.

Only the herd is faster than three kids with their inefficient two legs and differences in height and stride.

I get those kids under that fence and I have to drop and roll too because the fence is electric so I can't just grab and yeet over it (fuck but I probably could have but I was eleven and didn't know much about electricity and voltage then, or adrenaline) but I'm out of time.

My girl is all of... Christ, she was probably about five or six feet from me when I turned and saw her. The herd right on her tail.

She was terrified and being chased and running on pure instinct. The whites of her eyes were probably as big as my own were in that moment.

But my girl.

My girl with her amazing paces and even more amazing ability to turn on a single hock and pivot near 270° in a single pace saved me.

She was barely five feet from me when she up and turned and the herd, only a few more feet behind her, had to turn just as sharply to keep following her, only they couldn't because they didn't have her skill apparently.

But those few seconds her turning away from me, very likely risking injuring herself or getting caught if she failed to turn fast enough, was enough for me.

I dropped and rolled under that fence and literal seconds after I cleared it, a stampede of hooves and half-tonne powerhouses galloped past even as they tried to turn in an arc to catch my girl.

I could have left those kids in that field. I was scared, new to horses, and had a whole new responsibility shoved on me in that moment. No one would have blamed me.

My girl could have not turned on a dime, risking herself, to give me a chance. No one would have blamed her.

But I didn't. She didn't.

The things we do to protect the young, even when we're afraid or young ourselves, are the things that make us worth saving. My girl was a hero herself that day, and she saved me whilst I was saving those two kids.

It's not "human nature" to protect others, younger, weaker, needier, or just who we think we can protect in the moment.

It's just "nature".

It's the mark of empathy and by gods am I glad my girl loved me enough already to act the way she did even when terrified herself and wanting someone to protect her too.

I was rambling on the issue of museums and human remains and how certain populations are more likely to have their bodies put on display to be gawked at and then went "well I guess the Pompeii casts were of Europeans. there are bones in there right?" and Googled it to make sure, at which point I confirmed that yes there are bones in there, but more interestingly DNA testing revealed that a cast of an adult holding a child everyone assumed was a mother and child were, in fact, a man and a kid entirely unrelated to him. Honestly that's more moving to me. Maybe they were connected in a way other than blood, but maybe a stranger saw a child when the world was ending and thought the one thing he could do was hold them.

[ladykailitha]

A Love For Christmas Part 7

Hello! Welcome to penultimate chapter! I've been loving the little guess on the elf, who will be revealed tonight in the final chapter. Thank you to everyone who liked, commented, and reblogged. You make my day brighter.

Sledding is fun is because it's dangerous. And the company holiday party arrives.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

~

The next thing I put the little elf in charge of was the sleds used for sledding. There isn’t much to do in the North Pole, so we always trying to have some fun. Ice skating and sledding are two such pleasures we get to enjoy year round.

I let out a jolly laugh to see that they were finally having fun. Just enjoying themselves and being free.

I should have known that wasn’t going to last.

They got up on the highest hill with the swiftest sled and with one mighty push, they were careening down the slope, getting faster and faster.

I thought for sure they would hit the bottom of the slope and jackknife right into the snow bank at the bottom.

But I was wrong.

What happened might well be considered worse.

They hit the bottom of the slope, but instead of slowly, like it was meant to, it kept going. The elf tried to steer. To get it to slow down.

But it was fruitless.

They saw what was coming and dived off the sled, rolling into the snow. They rose in time to watch the runaway sled crash through the remaining snowpeople, knocking them down like bowling pins or dominoes.

They looked up at me, eyes wide with shame and bewilderment. There was no reason it should have continued like that.

And I suspected sabotage and sure enough another elf’s name appeared on my naughty list that afternoon.

So I gathered up the elf and told them, I would find something special for them to do. Something I knew they could be good at if they tried.

Making friends.

~

When Steve told Eddie that he had never gone sledding because it was too dangerous, the arborist made his mission to get Steve on the slopes as soon as possible. But that meant it would be the morning of the office Christmas party, which Steve was absolutely fine with.

Hell, if it was as dangerous as his mother claimed, maybe he would be in the hospital with a broken leg and he wouldn’t even have to go.

He bought a nice two person sled as well a single seater and brought them to Eddie’s nursery as that was where he was meeting him.

Wayne came out first as he always did because he liked talking to Steve.

“Hey Steve,” he greeted warmly. “I hear you’re taking Eddie to that fancy ‘do of yours tonight. Aren’cha worried he might bring little bit more...bedlam then the occasion calls for?”

Steve threw back his head and laughed. “God, I hope so! I hope he brings all the chaos loving, long haired, metalhead energy he has in him. I want people to see how wonderfully wild and outrageous he is, because I that’s what I adore about him.”

Wayne blinked at him for a moment and then rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “And Eddie is aware of this...plan?”

“Yup!” Eddie said cheerfully, popping out from behind one of the Noble firs. “It’s part of the reason I agreed to go. Me and Stevie here are going to have a real good time.”

Wayne shook his head fondly. “All right, as long you both know what you’re in for, I’m not going to stop ya.”

“We’re taking my van,” Eddie said, turning to Steve, “if that’s okay.”

“Yup!” Steve replied licking his lips and pursing them to hide the bright smile on his face. “I’ll just grab my sleds and I’ll meet you at the van.”

“Great!” Eddie said full dimples on display and Steve couldn’t help the feeling of warmth that sunk into his soul that it was aimed at him.

He hurried to his car and got the two sleds out of his car and trotted over to Eddie’s van.

Eddie tilted his head to the side. “Wha’cha got two for?”

“I’m too chicken to go myself the first couple of times,” he said holding up the two-seater. “So I’m hoping you’ll go with me in this. And then...” he held up the single person sled, “once I’m brave enough to go on my own, that’s what this is for!”

Eddie cocked his head to the other side, admiring him. “That’s some good thinking. Of course I’ll come with you the first couple of times until you get your sled legs.”

Steve laughed, putting the sleds in the back of Eddie’s van. “What the fuck is sled legs?”

They both got in the van.

“It’s like sea legs only with sledding.”

Steve shook his head. “Of course it is. What was I thinking?”

“You weren’t,” Eddie said, starting the engine. “But that’s because you’re in the presence of the wonderful me! It’s such a trial to be this pretty!”

He leaned into Steve’s space and fluttered his eyelashes at him. So Steve did the only thing he could think of.

He kissed the tip of Eddie’s nose. “You’re cute.”

Eddie blushed and sputtered. “You’re going to ruin my reputation is what you’re going to be doing here, Stevie.”

Steve just laughed.

They got to the park where they were doing the sledding and the hills were covered in people of all ages screaming and laughing and just have a blast.

“This always looked so fun to me growing up,” Steve said wistfully. “But my mom would never allow me to go. Not even when my best friends tried to sic their moms at her. It was just too much for her precious boy.”

“Well, you’re in for a treat!” Eddie said gleefully throwing himself out of the van. Steve scrambled to catch up.

They grabbed their sleds and raced to the hill.

Will spotted them first and started waving vigorously. Steve and Eddie grinned, then made their way to them.

“Hey!” Mike said with a returning grin. “You guys made it. We’ve been here for hours!”

And they certainly looked it. Their cheeks and noses were red and their pants were soaked to their skin, but they looked like they could go all day without breaking their stride.

“Some of us work for a living,” Eddie groused. “Teenagers!”

“Nancy and Robin both work and they’ve been here all morning,” Dustin huffed, pointing over to the two girls.

There standing on the top of the hill in snow suits. Robin, Steve clocked immediately. She was in a mix-matched suit that was navy blue on the bottom but an ugly brown up top. The other girl was all in pink with bright blue mittens, cap, and scarf. Her curly hair stuck from her under her cap and her cheeks were rosy.

Honestly, if Steve hadn’t known any better, he would have pegged Eddie as her brother, not Mike.

“That was nice of their bosses to let them take the day off,” Steve said with a smirk. “Eddie’s is running the nursery with just him and Wayne, and my boss is a bag of dicks. So...maybe don’t compare what you don’t know.”

Everyone turned and looked at Steve wide-eyed like they had just witnessed a murder. Which, Steve thought with a huff, they probably had.

Then everyone oohhing and whistling and calling Mike out. He just rolled his eyes and said, “Whatever.”

That was when Steve knew he had truly won.

Eddie set down his sled and then took the two seater from Steve. “You ready for this, big boy?”

“I guess, I’m ready as I’ll ever be,” Steve said with a smile.

Eddie set up the sled at the top of the hill and said, “All right, you get on first and steer and I’ll push, okay?”

Steve nodded and did as he was told. Then suddenly they were off, sliding down the hill at breakneck speed. Steve did his best to avoid hitting the major bumps and too soon they were at the bottom of the hill.

“That was fun!” Steve said, turning around to face Eddie. “Let’s do that again!”

And so they did. Steve spent most of the afternoon on the two seater or drinking hot chocolate with Robin, trying to warm up to go back at it. She was there to supervise.

“I’m here to make sure no one gets hurt,” she said dryly. “I’m just too uncoordinated to do it.”

“So come with me on the two-seater,” Steve said. “I’ll push and you steer.”

Robin chewed her lip and then nodded. Steve grabbed it from where it was sitting next to him and hauled it over to the top of the hill. Once they were all sorted, Steve pushed them off with a shriek of laughter and they were tearing off down the hill.

They slowed at the bottom and she looked back at Steve with a wide grin. “Let’s do that again!”

Steve laughed as she echoed his previous statement.

Then it was time for Steve to try his solo trip down the hill. Robin agreed to push him gently down the hill and Eddie offered to spot him at the bottom to help ease his fears.

Steve got settled on the sled but before Robin could even push him, the sled wobbled and started off down the hill on its own. Steve yelped as he struggled to steer the sled. But it was no good, he was heading right for a bump.

“Look out!” he cried as he hit the bump going top speed.

Everyone at the bottom of the hill scrambled to get out of the way. Steve caught air and landed hard at the bottom of the hill, tumbling out of the sled and rolling to the side.

Eddie was standing over him when he finally dared to open his eyes. “Hey, you okay?”

Steve took a moment to take stock. “Sadly, yes. But I think that means I’m done for the day.”

Eddie burst out laughing and helped him to his feet. They said their goodbyes to everyone and made their way to Eddie’s van.

“Thanks so much for today,” Steve said as he climbed in. “It’s been really nice hanging out with you guys all month.”

Eddie smiled fondly. “Of course, Stevie. I just hope you find Christmas just a little bit better.”

“Yeah.”

~

Eddie was dressed up as nicely as he could be, black button up shirt, nice black slacks, but he paired them with combat boots, a leather jacket and as many chains as he could get his hands on. Steve was dressed in a simple dark grey suit with a white shirt and red tie. Eddie thought he looked dashing.

They walked in through doors of Steve’s office building and while Eddie had been there before with the trees he hadn’t seen it decked out. Joyce’s ornaments were beautifully placed and Claudia’s cooking was being doled out by servers in black vests.

“Wow,” he murmured. “You sure do know how to plan a party. Damn, man. You did good for someone who out-nerved Robin that day when you came to the nursery.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks, Eds.”

Eddie’s head whipped over at the nickname and he just lit up brighter than the Christmas tree.

Then a loud, boisterous man came storming up to them. “Steven, what is the meaning of this? You were supposed to bring a date, not the help!”

Steve blinked at him a moment and then cocked his head to the side. “But you didn’t say that though. You said I was expected to bring someone, not a date. So I picked Eddie. He’s been a real asset to helping plan this party, I couldn’t have done it without him.”

Mr. Harrington stuttered and stammered before leaving the way he came, in a huff.

“So...that was you’re dad I’m assuming,” Eddie said with a grimace. “Because hooboy, I can see why you don’t talk about him much.”

“Yep,” Steve said dryly, rocking back on his heels. “Clint Harrington, asshole extraordinaire.”

“Hey, I’m going to get something to drink,” Eddie said trying to change the subject. “You want anything?”

“Just water.”

Eddie frowned at that but went and got him an apple cider, some food and goodies, and brought Steve over some water.

“There you go,” he said brightly.

“Thanks,” he said taking a sip of the water.

He held up his plate. “You want any of this?”

Steve shook his head. “I’ll eat later.”

Eddie dug into his food and they chatted. Everyone gave them both a wide berth and Steve loved every moment of it.

“Thanks for this,” Steve said brightly after the third person skirted around them. “I’ve never had such a peaceful party before.”

Eddie chuckled. “You’re welcome. I’m going to get more of the gingerbread snaps, you want anything.”

Again Steve shook his head.

“I don’t know why you won’t take any of the spoils of your labor,” Eddie said, shaking his head. “You deserve to eat this too.”

Steve looked up at him with a slight smile. “I’m allergic to orange. I literally can’t have any of it because it’s likely been touched by orange in someway, and I’d rather not spend Christmas in the ICU.”

Eddie eyes went wide. “Come again?”

Steve shrugged. “My parents do this every year. I’ve been allergic since I was seven, but they always had Christmas with everything covered in orange and complained when I refused to eat any of it.”

“Dude,” Eddie hissed. “That’s like child abuse.”

“Yeah.”

Eddie looked around and saw that everyone else was having fun while Steve was forced to put on a smile and not enjoy any of it.

“Do you want to get out of here and grab a burger?”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, sure. I just need to do something really quick. I’ll meet you by the car.”

Eddie nodded and went downstairs.

Steve slipped into his office and sent off an email with a grin on his face. As he was leaving his father stopped him.

“I’m don’t know what you are trying to pull with this,” he hissed. “But your mother doesn’t want to see you until after New Year’s, she that upset!”

Steve shook him off. “Maybe I’ll get to eat something for Christmas for a change.”

He stormed off, racing down the stairs and out into the crisp winter air. Eddie was by Steve’s car and he just held his arms open.

Steve dashed right into them and buried his head into Eddie’s neck. “I just quit.”

Eddie’s jaw dropped. “You did what now?”

“I sent in my two weeks notice, dated today,” Steve said with a grin. “They won’t see until the 5th of next month when they all come back, but by then the two weeks will be up and they’ll have to give my severance as well as all my PTO that I’ve accrued.”

“And just how much will that be?” Eddie asked looking down at this man of his dreams.

“At least sixty thousand dollars,” Steve replied, his grin growing wider. “Enough to get me through school to get my teaching degree so I can teach middle school.”

Eddie burst out laughing. “You are a menace, Steve Harrington.”

“Yeah.”

“Come over to our place on Christmas,” Eddie said, “enjoy the holiday for a change.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

~

Tag List: SEVEN SLOTS REMAINING

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @steddieislife @tartarusknight @themoonagainstmers

[hopeheartfilia]

ive been switching lanes waaay too fast this week. Anyway having some mini identity crisises over how little i actually understood about nuclear fusion

[5sospenguinqueen]

The Wrong Bull | Mark Webber x Interviewer! Reader

Summary: Mark was enjoying a private relationship with his favourite F1 interviewer. Until the internet started shipping you with his biggest rival

Warnings: Malaysia 2013. A lot of fabrication ie made up insta names. Swearing. Suggestive content. Indulgent blurb because who doesn’t like the idea of needy/possessive Mark. 

Requested: No

F1 Masterlist

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its_yn just posted

liked by markwebber, f1 and others

its_yn happy malaysia grand prix weekend! i’m very happy to be in the paddock this weekend bringing you the insight on how our eleven teams are doing

6,622 comments

danielricciardo can’t wait to see you. always bring me the most interesting questions

→ its_yn and you always bring me the most random answers

user1 my fave interviewer. i love the way she lovingly bullies the drivers. they’re always so engaging with her

jensonbutton now that’s a handsome man

→ its_yn thank you, i try 

→ danielricciardo but i’m the one with random answers?

user2 i’m so happy you’re in the paddock. you have the best rapport with the drivers and always have the best interviews with them

skysportsf1 when all the drivers beg for you to be there, we can’t say no

→ its_yn aw, you guys. i knew you loved me really

→ sebastianvettel of course. the prettiest interviewer we have

→ user3 oh, well then, get in there vettel

→ user4 sebastian making his move

user5 vettel winning on and off the track

user6 no way he bagged the hot sky sports presenter

user7 okay but the way she was smiling at him

→ user8 and the way he looked at her? talk about heart eyes

user9 if they need a third or a dog, i can bark

user10 ngl i thought jenson button was going to win her over

user11 okay, let’s chill a second guys. they just entered the paddock together

→ user12 we might be seeing the beginning of their relationship! how can any of us be calm. used to pray for times like these 

→ user13 yes but we don’t want to scare them off before we get confirmation

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Back resting against the wall of Mark's driver room, legs curled beneath you, you flipped through your notebooks. Going through your notes, you occasionally jotted something down, deeming it worthy of potentially mentioning during any interviews later. The sound of the lock turning had your head snapping up in time to see Mark's tall stature fill the doorframe. His eyes landed on you instantly, and he wriggled through the small gap he had created, blocking you from view of whoever was on the other side. A few short sentences later, Mark had managed to provide an adequate excuse to be alone. The door shut with a quiet click and Mark assured you it was locked.

"What are you doing here?" Mark questioned, the soft smile on his face assuring he wasn't opposed to the sight of you in his room. "Shouldn't you be out bothering more important people?"

"More important than you?" You shot back. "I've been put in charge of the post-race interviews today so I've got a bit of a break."

Mark took note of your jacket hanging on the back of his door, and your shoes at the foot of his massage table. His things surrounded by your things. And he was warmed by how comfortable you were here. In an endeavour to find some peace admit the chaos of the paddock, you took refuge in his room. The notion stoked the little fire of possessiveness within him.

"So, you're just going to hide out here until the race?"

Your pile of snacks, the circle of papers around you, and his jumper hanging from your frame told him all he needed to know. He just wanted - no, needed - to hear you say it. Especially after he'd overheard some of the drivers teasing Vettel during the Parade. About you, and the internet's speculations. And how if the German ended up on the podium, then how could the "pretty interviewer" say no to a date. So, regardless of the fact that it was his name and number splashed across your body, he still needed to hear you say it. To confirm that you were his and his alone.

"Until I'm needed, then yes," you smiled, watching as he slowly approached.

The white fireproof clinging to his muscular arms flexed as he placed them on either side of you. His race suit was wrapped around his waist precariously, looking ready to fall apart with a slight tug.

He angled his head down towards you, cheeks dimpling when he grinned. "And if I say you're needed right now?"

Your arms looped around his neck, pulling him down to close the small gap he had left between you. "What exactly am I needed for, Mr Webber?"

His eyes darted down to your mouth, watching as your tongue darted out to wet your lips. Before you could register that he'd moved, his mouth was on yours, moving against you and swallowing your surprised squeak. His arms wound themselves around your midsection, pulling you closer. The warmth of his body pressed into you instantly, and you melted into his touch.

Sliding your hands into his hair, you tugged at the short strands so as to pull him off you in order to catch your breath. As he didn't need oxygen more than he needed you, Mark's lips continued moving. His lips moved across your jaw, under your ear and down to the fluttering pulse in your neck, leaving a fiery path as he moved. A whimper was pulled from you when he sucked gently, your back arching into him. Paper crinkled beneath you when he lowered you onto the bed.

"Mark," you moaned, "you don't have time."

"Shh," he whispered against your skin, crawling atop you, trapping you between his body and the massage table. It have a groan of protest but he paid it no mind.

Not when your hands slid under his fireproofs, stroking the heated skin of his abdomen before trailing lower. With one pull, the knot of his race gave way, removing the cushioning that had prevented his hard length from pressing into you. A throaty groan escaped him when you rolled your hips against him.

Mark chuckled at your sudden eagerness. "What happened to not having enough time?"

"You shouldn't be so tempting."

Knowing that you craved him as much as he did you had Mark reconnecting your lips, moving with more fervour. Your lips parted, allowing his tongue to slide against yours. His hips jerked against you when you pulled his bottom lip into your mouth, sucking gently. Mark's hands slid down your hips, reaching around to palm your ass and pull you flush against him. The throbbing in his underwear intensified.

Two sharp raps on the door made your eyes snap open, fear flitting across your face when the door handle rattled. Mark pressed closer to you once more; not in lust but worry that someone would see you in the dishevelled state he had created. That was a sight for his eyes only.

Another knock came before a deep voice called out for the driver. "Christian wants to see you for a pre-race chat."

"What, now?"

"Yeah."

Mark groaned before looking down at you. Lipstick smeared, cheeks flushed and blotches darkening on your neck. He wasn't sure he could go outside. The image of you like this would stay with him, making him strain against the fabric of his suit.

"Go, my love," you whispered, tying his suit back around his waist, ensuring the arms carefully concealed the problem you had created. "And try not to collide with your teammate."

Well, the mention of his biggest rival this year was one way to soften him.

"You'll still be here when I get back? Before I jump in the car?" He pleaded.

He knew the answer. Of course he did. The routine had been the same for the past two years but, as before, he needed the verbal reassurance.

"And why would I do that?" You teased, snickering when the 6'1 man in front of you started to pout.

"Because how else would I get my pre-race kiss?"

"You could away ask Vettel."

The look on Mark's face turned from faux sadness to something much darker. You yelped when his teeth sunk into your neck before he pressed a soothing kiss on the mark he'd left (yes, I laughed at that). Shooting you a wink, he dashed out the door, and you were left alone once more.

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user1 seb really turned on the charm with this one

→ user2 he got away with defying team orders, won the race, and decided to win the girl 

user3 they would make such a cute couple though

user4 idk how yn managed to keep her calm, interviewer face on because if 3x wdc winner sebastian vettel spoke to me like that, i’d be giggling and twirling my hair fr

user5 okay i wasn’t a fan of the sebastian/yn train earlier but this interview may have convinced me 

user6 i love how she’s trying to stay unbiased but you can see that she’s impressed with vettel’s racing today 

→ user7 i actually thought she was a bit short with him for a change

→ user8 no i agree. her energy felt off. usually she laughs when they’re flirting

user9 did anyone else see webber watching them in the background?

→ user10 vettel needs to sleep with one eye open

user11 everyone talking about sebyn but i swear she kept looking behind him at mark

→ user12 mark defo smiled at her when they made eye contact 

→ user13 bfr, she’s clearly into seb here 

f1 just posted

liked by its_yn, redbullracing and others

f1 and it’s a 1-2 for red bull! oh, sorry, was that meant to say 2-1? 

9,222 comments

redbullracing that’s our bulls

→ user1 i didn’t realise we celebrated defying team orders

→ user2 oh please. sebastian was faster. mark needs to just accept that 

its_yn well done, team red bull

→ user3 it’s okay, sis. you can say well done to the love of your life for winning 

→ user4 vettel getting a celebration better than a champagne shower later 

user5 f1 is foul for this lmao 

→ user6 love how they used the pics where mark looks the most pissed off

sebastianvettel very good race. well done, team 

→ user7 he sounds so polite like he’s not a certified track terror 

user8 i’m in love with admin today. they knew what they were doing with this caption 

jensonbutton has anyone heard from mark since the podium?

→ fernandoalonso he’s yapping my ear off until all the conferences are done

user9 poor mark. he looked ready to throttle seb when they were doing interviews

→ user10 omg was that the one where seb was flirting with yn??

→ user9 yes! webber was stood behind him looking murderous. so hot 

user11 not to be one of those but i saw yn comforting mark after the race

→ user12 before or after her flirty interview with seb? 

→ user13 not fans trying to push yn and webber based on their 3 interactions when all this seb and yn content is right there

user1 sorry but no one can convince me that she didn’t just have a celebration romp with vettel

→ user2 yes! got to celebrate his win properly haha

→ user3 when he asked if she had plans later knowing she’d end up in his driver’s room

user4 dishevelled clothes, messy hair and her red lipstick from the morning gone? did someone say driver’s room sex

user5 she really does look like she got dicked down good 

user6 it’s the fact that almost everyone from the garage has left and she still got caught, bless her

user7 no because imagine angry sex with mark webber after that race

→ user8 oof, i never saw mark that way before but his face on that podium has me feeling some kind of way 

→ user9 i love how everyone is thinking of seb and your magnificent brain thought of mark

→ user7 i’m just saying, if i had to pick between the blonde twink or the angry, tall aussie, i know who i’m going with 

user10 okay but imagine it was mark’s room she snuck out from. seb stole his win so mark stole his crush 

→ user11 revenge, hate sex 

user12 did anyone else see the two marks on her neck during the interviews earlier though? i don't think post-race was the first taste miss thing got today

user13 damn, i always thought vettel would be good but he looks like he did a number on her 

markwebber just posted

liked by redbullracing, danielricciardo and others

markwebber please can you stop "shipping" her with the wrong bull. she’s mine

7,012 comments

its_yn and has happily been yours for two wonderful years

→ user1 they’ve been together for two years?!

→ user2 excuse me, two years and they kept it from everyone?! 

fernandoalonso does this mean i lose elite status as the only one who knows?

→ jensonbutton you knew! 

→ lewishamilton of course he knew. although i feel a little blindsided 

user3 no because i was fighting in the trenches for mark and yn whilst y’all were pushing the sebyn agenda

user4 who taught him to take the most romantic photos ever

→ markwebber yn did

→ its_yn i trained him good, ladies, so back off

redbullracing members of the garage have asked that you keep any noise in the driver’s room to a minimum. please and thanks

→ user5 so she did get her back blown out after the race by angry mark

→ user6 living my dream

→ its_yn i see you. he’s not for you anymore

jensonbutton genuinely did not see this coming. ngl, i was convinced yn was with seb

→ redbullracing so did we. we got sucked into all the twitter theories. they made a convincing case

→ its_yn @/redbullracing we had to disclose our relationship to you?

→ redbullracing i know. that’s how convincing they were

→ markwebber @/christianhorner how do i file a complaint about admin

user7 the height difference between them 🥰

→ user8 the height difference between them 🥵

danielricciardo well, there go my chances 

→ markwebber you’re too young for her, mate

→ danielricciardo yes but clearly she has a thing for aussies

→ its_yn just the one ;)

user9 no wonder he was angry. seb stole his win and then poor mark had to watch him flirt with his girl

→ user10 and watch as the entire internet shipped his girlfriend of two years with that win-stealing man 

sebastianvettel oh

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

requests are open. i promise your requests are on the way. i'm just slow haha

tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lilorose25

[aliyahwritings]

THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST

Summary: Coming back from a theater night with your friends only made Rafe hornier for some reason

Warnings: smut, eating out, fingering, p in v.

Word Count: 3.3k

Aliyah's Notes: this is kind of all over the place but wtv. it's a cute little extra that i thought was fun

You: "Where the fuck are you?" You: "This is why you’ve never had a girlfriend." You: "I hope you guys tripped and fell into a river." You: "I’m serious, Rafe. Are you okay? I’m starting to worry."

You stood outside the cinema with Kiara and Sarah, arms crossed as the chilly New York breeze bit at your skin. Despite the gray hoodie you’d stolen from Rafe draped over your white crop top, you still felt cold, silently cursing Sarah for convincing you to wear such a thin outfit. Sure, it looked great, but it definitely wasn’t warm enough for a night like this.

The three of you had been waiting for what felt like forever while the guys—Rafe, JJ, and John B—vanished into the snack counter abyss. You hadn’t even decided on a movie yet, and deep down, you knew that when Rafe showed up, a heated argument about which movie to watch was inevitable.

It was almost tradition at this point: the two of you bickering over the movie choice while everyone else groaned in frustration. But like always, you were confident you’d win. You always did. Rafe would put up a fight for the sake of it, but in the end, he’d cave, and you’d get your way.

Kiara sighed loudly, tugging you out of your thoughts. "What’s taking them so long? Are they buying snacks or building them from scratch?"

“With the time they’re taking, I’m starting to think they’ve decided to move in back there," you muttered, shoving your hands into the hoodie pockets.

Kiara snorted, throwing her hands in the air. “Seriously, what’s their deal? Did they forget we exist?”

“Knowing JJ and John B? Probably. They’re probably debating over candy, and Rafe’s just stuck there, pretending to care," Sarah chimed in, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“And he’ll come out looking all innocent,” you added, smirking. “Like, ‘What? It wasn’t me.’”

Kiara grinned, brushing her hair out of her face. “Meanwhile, JJ’s going to show up with enough snacks to feed a small country.”

Sarah laughed. “Honestly, we should’ve started a timer on them. This is ridiculous.”

"Or a betting pool," Kiara added with a mischievous glint.

You chuckled, glancing at the glowing movie posters plastered on the walls. Your gaze lingered on the title of the movie you’d been determined to watch all week. It was calling your name, and nothing—not even Rafe’s inevitable stubbornness—was going to stop you from seeing it tonight.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the guys emerged, balancing an obscene amount of snacks between them. JJ led the charge with a sheepish grin, precariously balancing a tray stacked with popcorn, nachos, and candy.

“We’re back, ladies!” JJ called, panting as he reached you. He flashed Kiara a grin and casually slung an arm around her shoulder. “Took a little longer than expected.”

Sarah raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “A little? We were about to send a search party.”

JJ waved her off, popping a kernel of popcorn into his mouth. “You just don’t appreciate the art of snack selection. It’s a process, Sarah. You can’t rush greatness.”

“Greatness, huh?” Kiara deadpanned, staring at the tray in his hands.

“Absolutely.” JJ puffed out his chest but immediately backed down at Kiara’s withering look.

As John B mumbled an apology and tried to lighten the mood, Rafe sauntered up, his gaze locked on you. His blue eyes seemed to search yours, scanning your face for any sign of annoyance—or maybe forgiveness. Without a word, he slid his arm around your waist, pulling you close in one smooth motion.

"Are you mad?" he asked quietly, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

You tilted your head, pretending to think. "Hmm, let me see... You disappeared for ages, left me out here in the freezing cold, and probably picked the most ridiculous snacks. What do you think?"

Rafe's lips twitched, fighting a smirk. "So... that's a yes?"

"Obviously,” you crossed your arms, feigning a pout, though the warmth of his arm around your waist made it hard to stay committed to the act.

“C’mon, baby, it wasn’t that bad,” he teased, leaning closer. “You had Sarah and Kie to keep you company. I bet they were super entertaining.”

“Much better company than you,” you sassed, though the corner of your mouth twitched in betrayal.

Rafe’s smirk grew, and he leaned in even closer, so close you could feel his breath fan against your cheek. “How about I make it up to you?”

You quirked an eyebrow, your heart skipping a beat despite yourself. “Oh? And how exactly are you planning to do that?”

“I’ll let you pick the movie,” he said, as if it was a monumental sacrifice.

You blinked, staring at him. “You were going to let me pick the movie anyway.”

“Yeah, but now I’m offering,” he countered, his grin widening.

Kiara’s voice broke through the moment, her tone dripping with mock exasperation. “God, will you two just kiss already so we can pick a seat? It’s freezing out here.”

Sarah snorted. “Seriously, you guys are worse than an old married couple.”

Your cheeks burned, but before you could respond, Rafe turned his head toward the girls, his expression smug. “Jealous much?”

“Of what? Your inability to tell time?” Kiara shot back, unimpressed.

Rafe chuckled, then turned back to you, ignoring their comments. “So, are we good?”

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your smile. “Fine. But you’re holding all the snacks, Cameron.”

“Deal.” He winked, stealing a quick kiss on your temple.

As the credits rolled and the theater lights slowly came on, you stretched your arms above your head, trying to shake off the stiffness from sitting for two hours. The group shuffled out of their seats, JJ loudly debating with John B about the "most iconic moment" in the movie while Sarah and Kiara chimed in with their own opinions.

You weren’t paying much attention, though. Your focus was on Rafe, who’d been surprisingly quiet during the movie, his hand casually resting on your thigh for most of it. Every now and then, you’d caught him glancing at you instead of the screen, though he played it off whenever you turned to meet his gaze.

The cool night air greeted you as you stepped out of the theater, the city alive with its usual buzz. You pulled Rafe’s hoodie tighter around you, already feeling the chill sink in.

“You cold?” Rafe asked, stepping closer.

“A little,” you admitted, rubbing your hands together for warmth.

Without another word, he slid his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. The gesture was so natural, so un-Rafe in its quiet thoughtfulness, that you almost didn’t know how to react.

“You’re lucky I let you pick the movie,” he teased, his voice low and warm against your ear.

“You didn’t let me do anything,” you countered, glancing up at him. “I just won, like I always do.”

“Debatable,” he shot back, though his grin betrayed his amusement.

The group paused near the sidewalk, debating where to go next. JJ was rallying for a late-night diner run, while Sarah and Kiara wanted to head home. You stood back with Rafe, content to let them figure it out.

Rafe nudged you lightly. “What’d you think of the movie?”

You smirked. “I loved it, obviously. It’s called having good taste. You should try it sometime.”

“Careful,” he warned, his tone playful. “Or I might change my mind about letting you pick next time.”

“Yeah, right,” you scoffed. “We both know you’ll cave again.”

Rafe stared at you for a moment, his smirk softening into something gentler. His arm slipped from your shoulders, and before you could protest, he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Okay, I’ll admit it,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You were right. It was a good pick.”

You blinked up at him, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity. “Is this your way of saying I have good taste?”

“Don’t push it,” he said, though his grin gave him away.

Before you could respond, JJ called out, breaking the moment. “Ayo, Rafe! Quit making googly eyes with your wife and help me convince them to hit the diner!”

Rafe groaned, rolling his eyes. “This guy…”

You laughed, tugging on his hand. “C’mon, we should at least hear him out. You do owe me for taking so long earlier.”

His eyes lit up. “You’re not letting that go, are you?”

“Never,” you said with a grin, leading him toward the group.

As the group finally parted ways—JJ still grumbling about the lack of a diner stop—you and Rafe headed back to his car. The ride was quiet, the city lights casting soft glows through the windows as the hum of the engine filled the space.

Rafe rested one hand on the steering wheel, his other hand perched casually on your thigh, a touch he hadn’t bothered to remove since the movie started. You glanced at him, his profile sharp under the streetlights, and felt your thighs rub against each other. You hated how effortlessly sexy he looked, even when he was doing something as mundane as driving.

When he pulled into the parking garage of his building, you expected him to make a teasing comment about how you’d owe him for letting you win the movie argument. Instead, he turned off the engine, sat back, and looked at you, his blue eyes flickering with something unreadable.

“What?” you asked, feigning nonchalance, though your voice betrayed the way your heart had started to race.

“Nothing,” he said, though the way his lips curled into a slow, dangerous smirk told a different story. “Just thinking about how much I want to fuck you right now.”

Your breath hitched, but you rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool. “Is that your way of saying you’re admitting defeat? Again?”

“Defeat?” he repeated, his voice dropping an octave as he leaned closer, his hand still warm and steady on your thigh. “Baby, you have no idea who’s about to win.”

Before you could reply, he closed the distance, his lips crashing onto yours with a mix of urgency and purpose. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping against yours in a way that made your head spin.

You barely registered the sound of the car door closing behind you or the way he guided you toward the elevator, his lips never leaving yours. By the time the elevator doors slid open to his penthouse, you were breathless, his hands gripping your waist as he walked you backward into the living room.

“Rafe,” you murmured against his lips, your fingers tangling in his hair.

“What, baby?” he hummed, his lips moving to trail kisses along your jawline and down your neck.

“We—” Your words dissolved into a gasp as he nipped at the sensitive spot just below your ear. “We’re home,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Exactly,” he muttered against your skin, his hands sliding down to grip your hips and pull you flush against him. “And no one’s here to interrupt us.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but Rafe silenced you with another searing kiss, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of the hoodie you were wearing—his hoodie. The warmth of his touch against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, and any coherent thought you had vanished entirely.

His hands on your body were all you were thinking about. It was so addictive. 

He was laying you down on the couch, taking your—his—hoodie off your body, then your crop-top. “You’re so fucking pretty. My wife,” his thumb ran over your hard nipples as he rapidly took your black bra off, throwing it god-knows-where in the living room. “Mine to fuck,” he bit down on your nipple. “Mine to ruin.”

His hand slid lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your pants, fingertips teasing the edge of your soaked panties. A shiver raced through you as his touch lingered, deliberate and torturously slow. By now, you couldn’t bring yourself to care how desperate, how utterly undone you sounded. Each broken moan and shaky breath betrayed how much you craved him, how badly you needed him. Nothing else mattered but this moment.

“Please, Rafe… please…”

“What, baby? What do you want?

Before you could even muster a response, his hand was already slipping beneath your panties. His fingers found your sensitive bud effortlessly, stroking it with deliberate, teasing motions that sent jolts of pleasure coursing through you. A soft moan escaped your lips, your body instinctively arching into his touch as if it was second nature—a dance the two of you had performed countless times before.

He watched you intently, his eyes dark and smoldering, drinking in every gasp, every shiver you gave him. Slowly, he brought his glistening fingers to his lips, tasting you with a deliberate flick of his tongue. 

“Fuck! I could taste you for a thousand years and still be so obsessed after all those years,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, his gaze never leaving yours as he savored every bit of you like it was a privilege. “You got no idea how fucking obsessed I am with you, baby.”

He didn’t waste a single moment, his hands working to tug your pants down before tearing through the delicate lace of your panties with a sharp rip.

“Rafe!” you exclaimed, a mix of frustration and disbelief in your tone. “Those were expensive!”

He only smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief as he let the ruined fabric fall to the floor. “I’ll buy you a dozen more,” he promised, his voice dark and dripping with desire.

Without hesitation, Rafe’s tongue found your swollen folds, his movements deliberate yet desperate, as if savoring every tremor of your oversensitive body. The sharp gasp that escaped your lips was like music to him, fueling his obsession with every intoxicating second of pleasuring you.

“God, Rafe!” you cried out, your voice trembling as the tension inside you threatened to snap. “I-I’m so close… gonna explode!”

He groaned against you, the sound vibrating through your core as his tongue flattened, dragging languidly across your slick heat. His rhythm was unhurried, teasing yet relentless, each stroke chasing away the weight of the outside world, grounding him in this moment with you. “You taste so good, babe,” he murmured, his lips brushing your sensitive skin.

“You like that, huh?” he rasped, his voice heavy with need as he nipped at you softly, savoring your helpless writhing. “You like riding my face, don’t you, sweetheart? Taking what you need like this?”

Your hips bucked involuntarily, and a broken moan escaped you. “Y-yes! Fuck, yes!”

A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest as he held you tighter, his grip possessive. “This is all I could think of while we were watching the movie,” his hand tracing a path down your chest, he brushed over your nipples, a deliberate pinch causing a sharp gasp to escape you. “The sound of your moans, the way your pussy tastes, imagining myself between your legs... I couldn't stop thinking about it.”

Your body was writhing beneath him, every subtle arch and tremble betraying just how close you were. The way your breath hitched, your cries growing sharper and more desperate, told Rafe everything he needed to know—you were teetering on the edge. His voice dropped into a low, coaxing growl, his lips brushing against your ear.

"That's it, baby," he murmured, his tone both commanding and soothing, a mix of rough encouragement and deep affection. "Let go for me. Cum for me, beautiful."

And just like that, hot pleasure ran through you like lightning, body trembling as you came all over your husband’s pretty face. As the blood roaring in your ears bates, and you blink back your vision, the first thing you see are those familiar blue eyes gazing up at you. Holding you steady, lips brushing gentle kisses along your inner thighs. 

You must have done something right in your past life to have him as your partner.

He pulled back, his lips glistening with the evidence of what he’d just done, and gazed up at you with that trademark smirk—the one that made your heart race and your blood boil in equal measure. As you struggled to catch your breath, he chuckled low in his throat, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

"The only time you stop running that smart mouth of yours," he drawled, his eyes dark and playful, "is when I’m buried between your thighs. Not so sassy now, huh, baby?"

Your chest heaved as you processed his words, heat flooding your cheeks. Rolling your eyes, you shoved at his shoulder with your foot, a laugh bubbling past your lips despite your best efforts to stay annoyed.

"I hate you," you shot back, though the corners of your mouth betrayed you, curving into a smile.

He shook his head slowly, the smirk softening into something dangerously close to fondness as he leaned in. Pressing a trail of lazy kisses along your body, working his way from your navel to the hollow of your throat, he murmured against your skin.

"Sure you do..."

You’re catching your breath, trying to steady yourself, when Rafe begins to undress. His gaze doesn’t waver from you as he pulls off his clothes, revealing his sculpted muscles and toned physique. Every inch of him is perfect, his body chiseled and taut, like something crafted from stone. Even the sight of his cock, already leaking with arousal, makes your breath catch in your throat. He’s so hard, it almost feels wrong—like you should apologize for how badly he wants you.

With ease, he spreads your thighs apart, his hands firm yet gentle. "Missionary, so we can keep arguing?" he repeats, teasing you about something you’d said earlier on social media. The words echo in your ears, and a blush rises to your cheeks.

His body leans down toward yours, and his hand grips your hips, holding you in place as the other strokes your cheek with tenderness that contrasts the raw hunger in his eyes. Slowly, deliberately, he sinks into you, inch by inch, a steady rhythm that makes your heart race. You’ve been with him enough times to know the feeling, but each time is different—he stretches you just right, filling you completely, making you gasp.

Perhaps it was because he knew exactly how to touch you, how to make every moment feel electric, or maybe it was the deeper connection you felt with him that stirred something inside you. The way your feelings for him took root and grew, so intense. It was as if he wasn’t just a man you were with—he overwhelmed you, consumed you completely, leaving no room for anything else.

“Shit, Rafe! It’s too much,” you whined, nails raking down his back. 

Rafe’s pace slowed just enough for you to feel every thrust in excruciating detail, and you couldn't help but moan at the feeling. But then, as if on cue, he smirked. "You know," he started, his voice low and teasing, "this whole ‘too much’ thing? Kinda sounds like you’re not enjoying it."

You rolled your eyes, trying to bite back a grin despite the rising heat between you. "Are you seriously talking about this right now?" you shot back, the words almost slipping from your lips in frustration. "You’re the one who—"

"Who what?" He cut you off, his thrusts picking up again, harder, deeper, forcing the words to die in your throat. "Who made you this wet?" He grinned at your flustered expression. "I think you’re enjoying it just fine."

“Y-you’re so… ah… full of yourself," you muttered, though the words come out weaker than you intended.

Rafe chuckled darkly, brushing his thumb over your lower lip. "You love it," he said with that same smug smirk. "You can’t get enough of me, can you?"

"Shut up, Cameron," you snapped, trying to push past the wave of pleasure that clouds your thoughts. "You think you’re so perfect, but—"

"Perfect, huh?" He suddenly stopped, his eyes narrowing playfully. "You really want to keep arguing while I’m literally inside you?"

The tone of his voice shifted, becoming possessive, and you felt his grip on your waist tighten as he pulled you closer, forcing you to feel every inch of him. "I’m not—fuck—perfect, but I know what you want."

You exhaled sharply, trying to suppress a moan. "You’re annoying," you bit out, though there’s no real malice in your words.

Rafe laughed, his lips brushing your ear. "I know." He gave you one more slow, deep thrust, and you couldn’t help but gasp. "But you love it." 

You glared at him, your body still trembling from his movements. 

[lucidfairies]

money [a.a]

pairing: ceo!abby x secretary!reader

synopsis: when you finally land the job of your dreams, you had no idea what your boss would be like. and damn, no idea you conjured could've done her justice.

warnings: top!abby, bottom!reader, age gap (reader is in her 20s, abby is in her early 40s), cunnilingus (r/a receiving), strap (r!receiving), praise + degradation, mommy kink, dirty talk, manhandling, pet names (sweetheart, sweet girl, angel, baby, whore, slut)

word count: 3.3k

it wasn't everyday that you landed a job with one of the most well known law firms in washington. for now you were just a secretary, someone to sit outside of an office and take calls, but your hope was to work your way up to one of their lawyers.

you had little prior experience with being a secretary, but it was just enough to get you this gig. the building was large, and the office you were to assist was on one of the highest floors, naturally where the head of the firm was.

you knew her, abby anderson. incredibly talented lawyer who even won over a supreme court case. though you hadn't met her in person, you were exhilarated to meet her. she was who you dreamed to be, especially by her age.

it wasn't until your third day, when abby was finally in the office, when you got a glimpse of what working here would actually look like. abby showed up in a well pressed black suit, armani logo drilling into your eyes like a laser, making you feel all that underdressed.

"do I know you?" she asked when you knocked gently on her office door and went in. she truly didn't mean to be rude - her son had been sick for three days and she was feeling it now - but you didn't know that. you automatically assumed she was an asshole, and that threw you off.

you cleared your throat, meeting her eyes and immediately shifting them again. she was intimidating, almost scary. "I'm y/n. I'm your new assistant." she looked you up and down, gaze still burning your skin, and the corner of her mouth turned up to a smirk.

"great. I take my coffee black, nothing in it. there will be a card on your desk that you can charge it to every morning. get yourself something. I expect you to leave before I do, as I stay late. by any chance, do you babysit?" your eyes found hers as you finally looked up.

"I mean, I can. I used to when-" she cut you off, uninterested in anything except the yes. you noted that for later.

"I might need you to pick up my son from school every couple weeks. not often, and certainly not until I've run a background check on you." she wasn't hardly looking at you now, eyes flipping between her papers and computer. "did I miss anything?"

"no ma'am," you said, standing up and instinctively wiping off your skirt, though there was nothing there. suddenly you were back at your desk, waiting for calls and bookings to come in while trying to make sense of that interaction.

the next day you arrived late, but in your defense, the line at the coffee place was long and traffic was even longer, and now you weren't even sure that the coffee was hot. abby was there when you gently knocked on her door, allowing your entry with a low 'come in.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, there was really bad traffic and the line-"

"it's okay, sweet girl." your stomach flipped. yesterday, when your eyes knew nothing but the floor, you hadn't exactly taken in her appearance, but today. today.

today she was in a black turtleneck, sleeves right around the muscle in her arms that just made her look so, so good. her black slacks were tight at her hips with a belt, and they were hugging her legs so tight that you were sure the seam would rip.

her hair was pulled into a nice bun and she wore no makeup, not that she ever needed to. she had freckles, beautiful eyes. rings. she had rings, that she could put inside of you any day.

"I'll be on time tomorrow, miss." your gaze dropped again as you turned to leave her office. this was surely going to be nothing but torture for the following months.

two weeks later was the first time she asked you to stay late. you originally had plans, but the way your name dripped off of her tongue like honey made you immediately cancel them. she had asked you politely to pick up her son, and you even acquired her number from the ordeal.

dealing with kids was not your specialty, but abby's son was a delight. he talked all about his mom, some about his dad and it made you wonder if abby was single or not. she never wore a ring to your knowledge, not even on a necklace, and from your speculation she almost looked like a lesbian. maybe you were just dreaming about the end.

if you had taken your apartment and multiplied it by ten, it still wouldn't be half the size of abby's house. she truly did have money, if the armani suits and porsche didn't say that already.

an hour into your babysitting, which almost just felt like hanging out with a kid in a mansion, abby got home. she walked in, greeting you with the first real smile you had ever seen on her face. your brain malfunctioned when you gently placed her hand on your arm and pressed an innocent kiss onto your cheek.

you were blushing profusely, pupils blown, almost dizzy, all she did was kiss your cheek, a very normal way of greeting someone and you were fucked. abby didn't fail to see you run your fingers over the spot and look at them before quickly turning back towards the two of them.

abby lived for it. lived for the you drooled over everything she did, lived for the way that she was sure her fingers would look so, so good in your mouth... and she tried not to think about it. how could she, when her son was standing right next to her, trying to tell her about his day, and you. you just looked so innocent.

you were engulfed in her smell, the perfect balance of pine and amber and erotica. she smelled like five hundred dollar cologne right off the shelf of valentino. you wanted to smell like that, wanted to smell like that, wanted to wear her clothes and have everyone think that you were together.

"thanks for coming, sweetheart. I'll see you on monday." you looked at her with your brows knit, knowing you had work the following day, friday. "take the day off. you did something for me, and I'm repaying you. use my card and get something."

the amount of money she had to just throw around was so attractive to you. she was an independent woman who brought in millions every year and was letting some secretary she had known for three weeks let buy anything on a day off.

monday had arrived, and you had purchased nothing with abby's card, naturally. you weren't one to spend someone's money just because they had a lot of it, or because they told you to. she would've had to buy it for you to accept it, at that.

it was nearing eleven when abby called you into her office by your first name, instead of one of the many nicknames she always seems to use. "sit." she demanded as you stepped in, and you did so.

"is something wrong, ms. anderson?" she wasn't mad, but she was irritated. she told you to do something, told you to put yourself first and you didn't.

"I told you to treat yourself on friday," her gaze left her laptop and met your eyes. "why didn't you?" you blanked for a moment.

"I just.. I didn't feel right spending money that wasn't mine." she gave you a disapproving look, before getting up and coming around her desk to stand in front of you. in a matter of moments, one of her large hands was grabbing your jaw and forcing your head up to look at her.

she bent down slightly, lips grazing over yours, and you were sure she could feel how much your face heated up. "next time I tell you to do something, you're going to do it. understand, sweet girl?"

"I don't-" your pupils were blown and you were so desperate for her to press her lips just a bit closer, fill the gap and just let you have it.

"say 'yes abby'."

"y-yes abby." she let go of your face and went back to her desk, pretending to pay you little attention, but she was acutely aware of the way you pushed your thighs together and squirmed.

"you're dismissed. I expect to see a charge by the morning." you got up and hurried out, going straight to the bathroom. your face was burning up, and you could vaguely see an imprint from her hand.

you were meaninglessly circling the mall, trying to decide what to spend this newfound money on. obviously you wouldn't get something big and glamorous, no matter how much she seemingly wanted you to.

every time you walked, you seemed to pass victoria's secret. It seemed like it was calling you to buy something, and after that interaction with abby earlier, you decided that maybe you should treat yourself and went in.

you looked around for a while before finding a cute blue set, with embroidered, lacy flowers. it was nothing special, just transparent and high waisted, but it was speaking to you. suddenly you knew what you were wearing to work the next day.

- - -

you felt completely scandalous wearing a short little skirt over the lingerie in the morning, with a button down, where the first few buttons were unbuttoned. it was different from your usual dress pants and blouse, but it definitely did what you needed it to do.

work was as usual for the majority of the morning, and you were suddenly doubting why you wore what you did. there was no point, you were seriously delusional and seriously needed help. what kind of freak where's lingerie and completely inappropriate work clothes to work after one minor interaction with their boss?

that was until you got a simple email from ms. anderson herself, reading nothing but;

my office. now, please.

you cleared your throat, brushed out your hair slightly and adjusted your shirt before nonchalantly entering her office. you sat, observing the way she remained quiet for a moment before clearing her desk and turning her attention towards you.

“did you think I wouldn't realize?” she asked, cooly, with her eyebrows raised slightly. “I mean, props to you, you did as you were told. but I checked the card. I'm not the only one who can see the transactions on that card either, sweetheart.”

you were immediately red. who else could see them? “I didn't r-really think-”

“no, you didn't. I bet the men in my finances would love to see you dancing around in whatever you bought, wouldn't they, baby?” she was standing before you could think, hands resting on the handles of your chair. “why don't you show me, huh? I know you're wearing it.”

“I'm not- we can't do that here.” you looked around, though you knew no one would ever bother her and her office had no cameras. “we're at work, abigail.” there was a fast switch in her eyes, the way they went from cocky to wide, almost needy.

“fuck,” her head dropped into the crook of your neck before she ran her nose along your jaw. “say it again. please, baby.” her tone, the gentle pleading made any rational thoughts disappear from your mind. your hand wrapped around the collar of her button down and pulled her in gently.

“abigail,” you whispered, “I want this,” with that, her hands were everywhere, all at once. she was pulling you up, wrapping her large hands around your hips as she pulled you in for a harsh kiss. she was forcing you onto her desk, keeping her lips to yours as your bodies molded to each other.

she left your lips, finding a perfect spot on your neck and sucking. you gasped when you felt her hand undoing the buttons of your shirt and pulling it out of your skirt. you were grabbing her by her waist trying to pull her closer as she continued to mark up your neck and grab your tits.

when she finally pulled away from your neck, her eyes became wide looking at your lingerie clad tits. you slid your shirt the rest of the way off and tossed it, looking up at her as you began to unbutton hers. she didn't let you get very far before she was gently pushing you back until your back was against the cool wood of the desk.

she unclipped your bra and pulled it off, tongue immediately meeting your nipple. she bit it and you yelped, grabbing her shoulders. her large hand was messing with your other, tugging gently and kneading. "I love your tits so fucking much, baby.” she mumbled into your skin while she kissed down your stomach.

she left more hickies on your ribs, but you desperately needed her in one place. she was pulling your skirt down in seconds, pressing her tongue against you like it was nothing and watching you arch and moan. she was eating you out through your underwear for a minute, before you grabbed her hair and pulled her head up.

"take them off." she smirked, and her head tilted slightly to the side.

"who said you're in charge, sweet angel?" the nickname was new, but you fucking loved that she always called you sweet. you were something sweet to her, and that made your brain lag every time.

"abby please," you bucked into her, chasing friction. that's when you felt it; the large bulge in her slacks that you hadn't noticed earlier.

"feel that, baby? that's all for you." she pulled down your underwear slowly, tossing it in the pile of clothes. she spread your lips, watching slick connect and drip down your thighs. your face burned and you covered it, embarrassed. "uncover your face or I'll stop." you did as told.

she pulled a ponytail off her wrist and pulled her hair into a bun before pressing her tongue into your clit and licking a fat stripe. your head hit the desk with a thud, reveling at the feeling. she worked your clit, sucking it into her mouth and painting patterns with her tongue while she pressed a finger into entrance.

she used her free hand to hold you down by your stomach, since your squirming was messing her up. you whined when she added a second finger, not used to her thick fingers. "if you can't take my fingers, how am I supposed to fuck you with my strap?" you moaned at her words, loving the dirtiness of it.

she returned to your clit and you got loud when she curled her fingers up into the best spot, whimpering and groaning. she remembered the time when you pressed your fingers to your cheek in her house, and brought her unused hand to your mouth, tapping your chin lightly. "open your mouth and suck," she instructed, noticing your confused look.

you took two of her fingers in your mouth and sucked them, which shut you up. your stomach coiled, a warm feeling rushing between your legs before you could even mumble a word. it felt like you just kept coming, until she finally pulled away from your cunt.

"are you gonna give me another one, angel?" she was unclipped her belt while you caught your breath. "wanna fuck you all day." she pulled her pants and boxers down just barely enough to get her strap out. "flip over, ass up." you turned over, fucked out muscles aching.

she ran the tip of her strap between your folds, letting your wetness lube it up, then lined up with your hole. she pushed just the tip in, groaning at the way you took it so well and swallowed her in. "what if I just fucked you like this, huh?" you whined.

"please.. need more," you pushed your hips back slightly, trying to push her in further. she pulled out, simply pushing the tip back in.

"desperate fucking whore," she thrust in on the last word, bottoming out immediately. you whimpered, the strap stretching you far more than her fingers. "aw, baby, does that hurt?" she pulled out far and fucked into you again.

she started fucking you, deep and hard, until you were moaning and grabbing onto the desk, trying to stabilize yourself. one of her hands left your hips and grabbed your hair, wrapping it around her fist and tugging. "fuck.. abby- abs.. mommy,”

your eyes widened at the name, which came out unintentionally. she stopped momentarily before groaning and picking her pace back up rapidly. "call me that again." the tip of her strap kissed your cervix and bumped against your g-spot every time. her arm wrapped around your waist, flicking your clit.

"mommy.. m'gonna cum." you slurred, cock drunk and fucked out. she kept her pace, hardly changing anything except for the fact that she was louder now, finding the perfect angle to get the harness to hit her clit.

"just wait a second, my love,” you held it for as long as you could, but it became too much, and she was hitting just right. your mind went absolutely blank as your vision went white, a wave crashing over you as you came.

you could hear abby moaning, but you were still going, and unable to think of anything. “fuck baby, you make such a mess.” you relaxed your tense body and look over your shoulder at abby's soaked harness, pants, and desk.

“m’sorry.” she slowly pulled her strap out and unclipped it front her hips, letting you lay for another minute before she grabbed your hips and helped you flip over and sit up. “wanna make you cum, mommy.” you looked at her with doe eyes, watching her eyes darken.

“I already came, sweetheart. don't worry about me.” you brought your hand down to cup her cunt and she took in a sharp breath. you ground your palm against her clit and she groaned, shifting her stance from foot to foot.

you slid off the desk with wobbly legs and kneeled in front of her, pupils blown. “please mommy,” you ran your nails over her abs and under her boxer strap lightly, making her muscles tense.

“such a slut, aren't you? want mommy to fuck your face?” you nodded, pulling her boxers down to her ankles. her blonde bush matched her hair, and you noticed her happy trail that you hadn't earlier. “stick out your tongue, baby, be a good girl.”

you stuck your tongue out flat, not even getting a chance to lick before she was pressing her cunt to your mouth. she fucked herself on your face, gripping your hair tight and grinding fast. you gently pushed her against the desk, lifting one of her legs to your shoulder and leaving the other one down.

she must have loved the new angle, because she was moaning and grunting more than you had ever heard her. her clit was twitching and puffy, wet from your spit and her slick. she let out an involuntary whimper, and it was like music to your ears. “gonna c-cum on your f-fucking face, angel.”

her legs shook as she came, ans you spent the following moments licking all of it up. you pulled away and stood up, still shaky. she pulled her boxers and slacks up, moving towards the pile of clothes and handing you what was yours. “do you wanna get dinner tonight?” she stopped what she was doing to button up your shirt and zip your skirt.

“yeah, that's great.” she smiled, kissing you softly.

“you can go home if you want to clean up. I can take my own calls for a few minutes.” it was your turn to smile, grateful to get out of your uncomfortable, wet clothes.

“I'll see you tonight?” you asked, looking over your shoulder once you got to the door.

“pick you up at seven.”

a/n: part two? 🤭

tag list: @shewantstoknow @baumbii @zombholic

[pathologicalreid]

hi! i was wondering if i could request a spencer x fem kindergarten teacher! reader who has to be interviewed by the team when something happens to one of her students (they find him) and spencer sees her and is just like in love immediately. thank you so so much!

kindergarten crush | S.R.

when one of your students goes missing, the BAU sends the A-team to ask you some questions

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: allusions to child abuse/endangerment but nothing detailed, kindergarten teacher!reader, spencer is smitten, emily is such an older sister, average cm case stuff word count: 1.86k a/n: ugh if you know how much i love teachers then you know how much i loved writing this!!!! tysm for requesting!

“Don’t teachers leave school when it ends?” Emily asked, following the secretary through the elementary school hallways.

The secretary glanced behind her to make sure Spencer was still following, “Contract hours end at four in the afternoon, which is about twenty minutes after the last bell,” she responded. “Some teachers are in charge of after-school clubs or they’ll stay to grade or plan for the next day, but the rest head home at the end of the day,” she continued.

Emily nodded in understanding, “And when does Ms. Y/L/N usually leave for the day?”

For a moment, the secretary’s resigned expression faltered to one of concern, “Once all of her students leave for the day.”

“Is that usually at a different time every day?” Spencer asked, shoving his hands in his pockets as they turned another corner, the walls were coated in colorful flowers with the names of what he could only assume were the kindergarteners scrawled on them.

There was nothing but a sigh from the secretary as she considered her answers, “That might just be a better question for you to ask her.” She continued leading the way until she stopped in front of a door that was being held open by a doorstop, knocking on the door, she peeked her head in, “Y/N?”

From where he was standing, Spencer could see your head peek out from beneath a desk, but once you recognized that you had unexpected guests, you stood up straight, “Oh, hi,” you greeted, hastily walking around the clusters of tables as you made your way to the door.

“Y/N Y/L/N?” Emily asked, pulling her credentials out when you confirmed your name, Spencer followed suit, “We’re Agent Prentiss and Dr. Reid with the FBI’s behavioral analysis unit, do you have the time to answer a few questions about a case we’re working on?”

The bright smile that had initially been on your face quickly fell as you eyed the FBI credentials in front of you, “Oh, Cody,” you murmured. Stepping to the side, you gave the two federal agents space to enter your classroom.

Prentiss thanked the secretary before stepping into your space, “Oh, it’s colorful in here,” she said.

“It’s a kindergarten classroom,” Spencer responded quickly, “Studies show that there’s a link between bright colors and brain development, so these colors are probably conducive to a productive learning environment.”

He went over to the side of your classroom, watching you as you nervously wrapped your arms around yourself, “Thank you?” You said quizzically, not sure if you should take what he was saying as a compliment, “You are here about Cody, right? Cody Jenkins?”

Spencer nodded, “We are, you knew immediately, though.”

You moved your hand to cover your heart as if it was racing, “I was worried when he wasn’t here yesterday, but I knew when I didn’t see him today that something was wrong.” Your eyes flickered between Emily and himself, waiting for either one of them to say something, “Oh my god, is he okay?”

“Why were you so worried when Cody didn’t come to school for two days?” Emily asked, tilting her head to the side, raven black hair catching in the fluorescent school lighting.

Sitting down at your desk, you sighed, “Cody loves school. He’d never miss a day unless it was absolutely necessary – I’m the one who brought the first concern to the administration that there might be problems at home, but…”

Raising her dark eyebrows in curiosity, Emily shared a look with Spencer, “But what?”

Watching you, Spencer noticed the way you nervously fiddled with a beaded bracelet on your wrist, although he couldn’t quite make out what the lettered beads spelled, he was able to deduce that the bracelet was important to you. “What’s on your bracelet?” He asked, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees, he craned his head to try and read it on his own.

“Oh,” you said, looking down at the bracelet as if you needed reassurance that it was still there, “A student made it for me a long time ago. When I was still a student teacher,” you looked at the beaded creation fondly, “The mascot was the dolphins, so it just says ‘dolphin’. Spelled with an F, of course, because she was four.”

Once he knew what the bracelet said, he was able to make out the words, even noting the dolphin charm at the end of the word, “You care a lot about your students,” he said, stating the obvious, but the words seemed to put you at ease. “What do you know about Cody’s home life?”

Your eyes widened as you looked back up at Spencer and he tried to make himself seem as friendly as possible. “I know his parents have had some trouble – his dad has a bad history, as I’m sure you know, but his mom is a good person,” you said, reaching your hand up and scratching the back of your neck.

“But she never left Cody’s father,” Emily said questioningly, seeking confirmation more than anything else.

Crossing your arms in front of your stomach, you shrugged, “I’ve never been in that situation before, I don’t get to speak on the difficulty of leaving, but I can tell you that she’s a good person – she loves her son.”

“You care a lot about your students,” Spencer noted aloud, he looked around at the clusters of tables – each table was stocked with the same supplies. You even had a snack station at the back of your classroom.

Quickly, you nodded, “I don’t believe in kids getting a lesser education just because they don’t have the money or the support system at home. I do what I can,” you admitted. “Do you… do you think Cody’s dad did something to him?”

Sadly, Emily affirmed your question, “He’s a person of interest in the case.”

Pressing your lips in a thin, white line, you slouched back into your office chair, “Sometimes I wonder if there’s more to do. The state requires me to teach these kids about stranger danger, but last year a majority of AMBER Alerts that went out were for family abduction.”

“I’m sorry that you know that, Ms. Y/L/N,” Spencer told you.

You brushed off his apology, “For eight hours a day, five days a week, it’s my job to keep these kids safe – even if that means knowing things that I don’t like.”

Both Spencer and Emily accepted this, and they continued to ask you a few questions about what you knew about Cody. From your point of view, he was just a kid trapped in a bad situation, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it ever hurt you to send him home at the end of the day.

As the two of them left the elementary school, he shook his head in disbelief, “She made three reports on the father, and none of them were taken seriously by the school.”

“I know, Reid,” Emily commiserated, “So, the teacher?”

Her question came when the two of them piled into the SUV, giving her a bewildered look, Spencer furrowed his brows, “What about her?”

Emily scoffed, “’You care so much about your students,’” She said in a mocking voice, taking one hand off the wheel and placing it on her chest, “���Oh, I’m so sorry that you have to know that information’. What was that about the colors in her classroom?”

Rolling his eyes, Spencer sat back in the passenger seat, “Okay, first of all, I do not sound like that. Second of all, I was building rapport – you should try it sometime.”

She chuckled from the driver’s seat, tossing a piece of paper in his general direction before placing her hands near the bottom of the steering wheel, “Here, this is for you.”

“What is it?” He asked as he took the paper and unfolded it.

Humming, Emily didn’t even look as she responded, “I wrote down her room number for you, so you can go ask her out once this case is over.”

Your door was closed when he got there and he wasn’t quite sure if he should knock or just give up. It wasn’t a far drive to get to your school from Quantico, and if he could ever work up the courage to make the drive again, he could always try then.

Lifting his hand to knock, he hesitated again, opening his palm and letting his hand drop to his side. “This is ridiculous,” he mumbled to himself, taking the sticky note that Emily had ‘gifted’ him and triple-checking the room number as if his memory and your name on the door weren’t enough confirmation.

Giving up, he turned around, stuffing the paper in his pocket as he did so, and almost running into you in the process, “Oh!” You said, stumbling back and taking a moment to reorient yourself before meeting his eyes. “Oh,” you repeated, softer this time, “Dr. Reid, it’s nice to see you again.”

“Spencer,” he corrected and immediately cringed. “I mean, I’m not here in any professional capacity, so… you can just call me Spencer.”

Flashing him a bright smile, you grinned in response, “It’s nice to see you again, Spencer.” You proceeded to tell him he could call you by your first name before inviting him into your classroom.

Looking around the room, the colors of the space once again made him feel welcome, “You’re here late,” he observed, looking up at the clock and noticing that it had passed your contract hours while he stood outside your door.

You nodded, “It’s the first of the month tomorrow, so I need to switch over my calendars and everything.” You went to pick up a dry-erase marker from the whiteboard, “Um, have you… did you find Cody?”

“Yes,” he responded immediately, remembering the excuse he had given the team when he told them he was going back to visit you. Morgan and Emily weren’t likely to let him forget. “He’s safe, and it looks like he’ll be able to stay with his mom,” he informed you, relishing the way his words put you at ease.

Any remaining stiffness in your stature faded, and the weight of your missing student was officially off of your shoulders. “Thank you – and thank you for coming back to let me know,” you said, putting your hands behind your back, the two of you seemingly at an impasse.

Taking a deep breath Spencer braced himself, “I actually didn’t come back for that. No, I mean, I did. I wanted to let you know that Cody was safe because you were worried and he’s a kid so obviously that was something that I thought you deserved to know since-“

“Spencer?” You said quizzically, smiling at him as he rambled on about your previously missing student, “What else was there?”

His eyes widened as you smiled at him, “Would you want to go out? With me?”

Your smile dropped from your face, and he began to emotionally prepare himself to lay face down on his couch tonight, but what you said next surprised him, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Think Fast, You Only Get One Try - [Part 1]

♥ prev | next

♥ series masterlist | main masterlist

♥ pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

♥ chapter one synopsis: after almost two months it was finally time to tell lando about your daughter.

♥ smau + written - fc: girls on pinterest - none of the pictures are mine

♥ warnings: swearing !!!

♥ a/n: thank you so much for almost 400 followers and 1k+ notes on the intro <3 i really hope this part 1 lives up to your expectations! The next parts will have more smau and will ideally be longer (I just had to get the plot rolling with this first chapter lol)

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yourusername vroom vroom

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˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

You knocked on Lando’s penthouse apartment door, knowing there was no going back now. Bless your sister for being able to find where he lives in just a couple of minutes on the internet.

The man who opened the door wasn’t Lando, but Max Fewtrell. His gaze narrowed.

“Who are you?”

“I’m not sure if you remember me... but I met you and Lando at a club in Melbourne last year.”

His eyes saccaded between you and the baby you were holding.

"Lando," he shouted from the doorway. "Stay here. I'll go get him."

Max made his way to one of Lando's rooms, where he was talking to Oscar.

"There's a woman here to see you," he paused. "With a baby. She said she knew you from Melbourne last year."

Lando got up quickly and made his way to the front door. Once he got there, he stared at you and your daughter.

You nodded. "Her name is Camila."

He held his arms out, silently asking to hold her. After you handed Camila to him, he gently rocked her in his arms.

"Come in."

-

You had a very long conversation on the couch with Lando as his two friends eavesdropped from the hallway. They didn't even bother going into another room and closing the door.

"I want to be a part of her life, if that's okay with you?"

You nodded. "Could you start tomorrow?"

"What?" Lando blinked at you.

"My sitter quit, and I have work tomorrow. I checked your race calendar; you just got back from Japan and don't have to go to Shanghai until next week."

"Yeah, but I still have sim and training and-"

"You better hope your physical therapist knows how to rock a baby to sleep then," you said sternly.

"I can help if you want," Oscar piped up. "With Max and I, I'm sure you'll be able to spend some time with your daughter."

You smiled at Oscar. "I'll be leaving you in charge."

That statement elicited an eye roll out of Lando.

He shifted his gaze from Camila to you. "Alright, yeah, I'll take care of her for the next few days."

"Thank you," you placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'll drop her off tomorrow at 10?"

˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

-The Next Day-

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oscarpiastri babysitting duty

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user7 who's baby?

user3 oscar would be such a cute girl dad

lilyzniemer I agree

user1 🥹

user5 AWWW

user8 that should be me 😔

user2 holding your hand

user9 that should be me

user4 making you laugh

user12 you and lily are so cute :(

˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

-first is lando's phone, second is yours-

˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

-A Week Later-

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landonorris life lately

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user7 Shanghai is soooo pretty

user9 so glad china back on the calendar

oscarpiastri proof that instagram is fake

maxfewtrell he's forgetting about sm REALLY important in his "life lately"

user8 ???

user2 @/oscarpiastri @/maxfewtrell what do you know

˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

taglist; @hc-dutch, @papaya-twinks, @2pagenumb, @formulaal, @erin-odonnell04, @drunkinthemiddleoftheday, | @kissesandmartinis, @ironmaiden1313, @six-call, @wolflover384, @tremendousstarlighttragedy, | @ilivbullyingjeongin, @celestialend, @silentreader128, @wolflover384, @ellesssssxzxz | @clowngirlsstuff, @ln4smiamitrophy, @whoneedsgeorge, @chezmardybum, @warlike-morning, | @gigicisneros, @hard4ndsoft, @eveninggstar, @jolixtreesunn, @acesofspadess,| @formulaonebuff, @notpeachybby, @shesmugirl, @mxdi0, @ririyulife, | @kravitzwhore, @bellinghambby22, @helaenatargaryensfavoritebug, @maplesyrupsainz, @harrysdimple05, | @pippyth3hippy, @noneofyourfbusinessworld,

@littlegrapejuice, | @majx00, | @si1ver06

[fallin2pieces]

let's get in the back of your cop car, officer (charlie swan x coquette!reader)

heavily inspired by playing dangerous by lana del rey <33

cw: MDNI age gap (reader is a freshman in college and charlie is in his 40s), dubcon, p in v, dry humping, blowjob, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it..), cunnilingus, choking

authors note: this is my first ever fic! also sorry for the inconsistencies, english isn't my first language :( also lmao this was supposed to be a blurb but i got carried away 😭

- your parents were away for a business trip which left you home alone during break. you always had the nasty habit of smoking, and being home alone it was an opportunity to smoke inside your house.

- as you were cooking dinner, you were smoking in your kitchen, using your stove top to light a cigarette.

- you lazily dragged the cigarette across your lips, inhaling the smoke as you sat on your kitchen countertop.

- as the night progressed, you washed the dishes and got ready for bed

- little did you know, you've accidentally left the stove on.

- 4:38am. “fuck.” you woke up disheveled in your pink silky night gown, coughing as smoke covered your walls, filling your lungs.

- crying as you run down your stairs, you’ve realized what you’ve done.

- shakily, you reach for the family phone by your paisley printed couch and started to dial the police department as guilt engulfs you.

- “forks police department!” an older man on the other side of the phone responds. you knew it was wrong. you knew it was insensitive. maybe you were just a girl but something about the rasp and the timbre in the policeman’s voice made your insides turn.

- later on, you were sitting on your porch, the cold washington rain dampening the steps you sit on, your hair wet, lips and eyes puffy as you cry from guilt.

- a car pulls up in your driveway as a tall dark figure approaches you

- “ma'am you called, are you okay?” the same hoarse voice from the phone asks.

- you just start sobbing. you were guilty. you’ve already damaged your parents’ house.

- as the older man approaches you, he sits down at the porch with you to comfort you.

- as he sits down the smell of cigarettes and cheap perfume engulfs your senses.

- you look up at the police officer, he was even more attractive (and mature) than you imagined.

- this is wrong. you thought this isn’t the right situation to whore around.

- “i-i didn’t mean to do that officer..” you croak out, you started sobbing and he puts his arm around you

- “my name is chief swan. would you wanna sit in the car as i question you?” he asks.

- you nod rapidly as you got up and walked towards the backseat of the car. "this is the right opportunity" your mind lingered.

- “so what caused the fire?” his voice reverberating inside the empty police car as he closes the car door.

- you admit what you’ve done, stuttering and stuttering through tears.

- he just looks at you "oh poor you so alone and fragile." he thought after all you were just a girl and you didn’t mean any of this

- “officer is there anyway that you wouldn’t press charges?” you looked at him with hungry and intent eyes.

- you felt pretty bare right now. in your light pink nighties. the way he was taller, bigger and had more authority than you do… oh you felt so weak, like a bunny waiting for its predator to attack.

- as messed up as it sounds, this made you feel very warm and fuzzy, his presence made you warm and fuzzy. the way his mustache sits on his face and how his messy brown hair stands up, he looks a little sleep deprived and tired, probably from his police job. he’s just a little older than your parents. just perfect, you thought to yourself.

- you’ve never been attracted to a man his age but something about him being an authority figure made you insides turn in excitement, which made you yearn for more.

- “please officer..” you plead as you get on your knees, very intent to seduce the older man.

- he groans at the sight of you. “no no, sweetie we can’t-” he breathes out as he adjusts himself to try to hide the obvious tent in his pants.

- “officer i’ll be good i promise… just don’t press any charges on me…” you mumbled. it’s working you thought as your manicured hands fumble with his silver belt buckle

- “oh my sweet sweet girl.” he groans as he cups your sweet face as his thumb plays with your pink plush lips as he inserts his digits in your mouth making you moan around his fingers.

- “i shouldn’t be doing this.” charlie thought to himself

- you adjust yourself from kneeling, the roughness of the police car’s floormat bruising and ever so slightly scraping your delicate knees

- you use your teeth to unzip his pants as your eyes never leaved his, his hands cupping your face as he tucks your hair away.

- as you palm him through his boxers, wetness pools in your floral underwear.

- eager for some friction, you decided to use your fingers to press on your clothed cunt.

- as you fumble on his waistband, his cock still soft you whimper at the sight of his size.

- oh poor man.. you thought he was probably so pent up, no one probably took care of his sexual needs :(

- you start kissing on his cock sweetly as you look up at him..

- oh the way he stares down at you makes you feel inferior, you moan at the thought.

- slowly, you put his cock in your mouth.

- starting slow… going deeper and deeper you grow desperate for pleasure of your own

- he groans at the sight of you… so cockdrunk.. so needy for him.. it’s been years since someone wanted him this bad.

- “you’re such a good girl for me.” charlie manages to groan out, he holds you by your throat forcing you to look up

- picking up the pace, you moan and gag around his length sending him over the edge.

- he notices you yearn for attention down there :( so he signals you to stop and he instructs you to straddle him.

- with his cock out, you straddle him, kissing him hungrily as your clothed cunt pressed against his bare girth.

- as you took in his tongue, the taste of gas station coffee and cigarettes intertwined with your saliva.

- he eventually starts creeping his calloused hands to your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh as he rides your nightie up making you whimper and soften into his touch.

- as he finds his rough hands up and down your body, he fondles with your breasts, nipples erect from the cold washington breeze, the straps of your nightgown falling to the side as he takes your tits out to look at them.

- oh they were so perky and so soft. he made his way down with his mouth, lapping at your soft skin, eventually finding his tongue wrapped around your sensitive nipple.

- you throw your head back moaning at the pleasure he gave you, rocking back and forth slowly finding some friction as your baby pink painted nails dug crescents into his shoulder.

- he reaches down, to lift the skirt of your nightie, reaching down to your panty clad cunt, taking his thumb and firmly tracing circles on your clit.

- you elicit a moan and collapse into him, his big strong arms supporting you as you reach your high.

- suddenly you felt brave, you pull your panties to the side and you sink down to him.

- “n-no sweetie we can’t-” he whimpers out as you lower into him, as he throws his head back.

- “please officer let me be good.. let me be a good girl..” you cry out in desperation for some relief.

- you just sat there, letting your tight cunt adjust around his big cock your as he wraps his big strong arms around you.

- “baby.. your cunt is so tight.. fuck—” he pants out while looking at your beautiful face.

- you weren’t that experienced per se… only being a freshman in college, having one night stands with guys your age that you barely even know who treat you with only lust no love, but with chief swan, it felt intimate and romantic. the way he holds you and kisses you made you melt into his arms. it made you feel like you were cared for.

- slowly but surely you went up and down, savoring his length, you’ve never had someone this.. big and girthy (and mature).

- charlie being on the older side, didn’t have enough stamina, so you were using him like a dildo over bouncing up and down his cock as you looked at how his face was painted with pleasure.

- he looks at you with so much lust and love in his eyes, he haven’t had someone take care of him like this for years.

- he pressed his calloused thumb on your clit rubbing circles making you see stars.

- this was the most pleasure you’ve received from a man.

- “such a good girl for me, taking my cock like this, don’t worry i won’t give you charges princess, no one has to know. ” he looks at you firmly.

- you shake uncontrollably. poor girl can’t take all that cock inside of her :(

- you were making his pants all wet from your juices, all the mixed sensations of him nipping at your soft skin, his thumb pressed to your clit and his cock in you was enough to send you over the edge.

- “fuckfuckfuck-” you whimper out as you come undone on him, your cunt fluttering around his fat cock.

- “you’re doing so good for me.” he says as he carries your waist up as he thrusts inside you and spills his cum inside of you.

- he quickly pulls out, pushing you to lay down on the car seat.

- chief swan got on his knees, pulls you panties to the side and started lapping at your freshly fucked cunt, his mustache tickling your clit as his mouth worked on you.

- you squeezed your legs together, pinning his head steady between your legs as he overstimulated you, as you squirm and pull on his hair.

- he suddenly knelt up, slapping his cock on your clothed cunt, rubbing it up and down your slit.

- your eyes roll back so far back it felt like you could see the back of your skull.

- “officer please-” you moaned out, chest heaving. everything about him was intoxicating. you fucking in a police car only added to the thrill, the scent of sex and his cheap cologne filled your lungs.

- “please what? use your words sweetheart.” he said between groans, as he held your chin with one hand so you could make eye contact with him.

- his thrusts became more erratic and his hips stuttered.

- “please cum on my face officer..” you said embarrassed. you couldn’t believe this filth was coming out your mouth.

- he knelt up, rapidly stroking his length as his seed painted your delicate face.

- meeting chief swan was definitely an experience.

happy father’s day to all my dilfs out there

[girlgenius1111]

take care

engen!reader - solstråle ingrid gets injured during a match. sol is overwhelmed with worry. ingrid hates being worried about, and mapi tries to keep her two engens sane. more angst + fluff with my favorite little family.

The knock looked bad from the stands. You were sitting by yourself, your usual game-watching partner unable to attend today. You stood up without thinking about it, craning your neck to see the crumpled heap on the ground that was your sister. Mapi was crouched over her, motioning towards the sidelines in a way that made your stomach clench. As the medics ran out, you looked around, realizing there was no one here to take charge. Somehow, the injured list was empty, so you were sitting without even the quiet company of some of your sister’s teammates. 

You were supposed to wait here until after the game, and then head down to the tunnel to meet Mapi and Ingrid. The security personnel knew you, knew to let you in, especially after the time they didn’t let you into the tunnel, and you kind of freaked out being surrounded by the large crowds flowing from the stadium. Mapi had given the security guards an earful and since then you’d had no issue. It was different now, though, because the match wasn’t over, but Ingrid was still laying on the pitch, and you’d never been so worried in your life. 

Mapi was hovering by the medics, who were crouched around your sister, obstructing your view of her. The Spaniard looked worried, and she never looked worried when Ingrid went down. She’d check on her girlfriend, like a teammate would do. But the concern on María’s face was far from professional, and you swore under your breath, hurrying towards the cement steps of the stadium without another thought. 

You raced through the halls of the stadium, quickly exiting the fan area and nearing the team only area. Your focus was on finding a security guard you knew, on trying to remember where the medical rooms were in here. You didn’t think about Ingrid laying motionless on the pitch, the smack of her head you hadn’t heard but could imagine had been made as she hit the ground. There wasn’t room for you to pause and think and worry, because if you did that, you’d probably crumple up into a ball on the ground and never move again. 

Ingrid wasn’t prone to injuries. Ingrid didn’t stay down longer than absolutely necessary. 

Ingrid was fine. 

Mapi normally went and got water when there was an injury break, normally gave Ingrid space if she was being treated on the pitch. 

You were being absurd. It was just a knock to the head, but your body was reacting like you’d seen Ingrid get hit by a truck, and by the time you made it to the doorway you knew would lead you towards the changing room, you were out of breath for a reason that had nothing to do with the sprint you’d just done. 

Luckily, the security guard stationed there was familiar, looking confusedly at your sudden appearance. 

“Ms. Engen. Everything okay?” 

“I... no, Ingrid got hurt, and I need to-”

The confusion on the man’s face cleared, and he nodded quickly, stepping aside to let you by. Haphazardly thanking him, you zoomed by, coming to a slow stop only a few seconds later as you realized you didn’t really know where you were going. 

You knew the inside of Johan pretty well, but you’d never been to one of the medical rooms, didn’t even know where one would be. You were just about to turn around and ask the security guard for help when you heard a call of your name coming from down the hall. 

“Over here, chica!” Marta called, waving you towards a doorway just across from the changing room hall. You hurried towards her, feeling somewhat better at the sight of Marta’s easy smile. The captain didn’t seem worried at all. 

Reminding yourself to breathe again, you regarded Marta. “Is she okay?”

The brunette nodded. “Maybe a concussion, but she’s alright. She’s finishing up with the physio right now, then you can go in.” 

Relaxing just slightly, you exhaled. “How did you know I-?”

“Ingrid told me to look out for you. As did Mapi, Caro, and Frido.” Marta grinned. 

That made sense, at least. Of course Mapi had thought of you up in the stands right away, knew to make sure someone was looking for you to appear. Frido and Caro, too, though that was more unexpected and made your stomach twist with something between discomfort and appreciation. That they’d thought of you, too… well, you weren’t used to that. Being thought of, especially by so many people. 

You stepped forward, your hand on the door knob before pausing. What if Ingrid didn’t want you in there? You knew that when you got hurt, it was a 50/50 shot whether you wanted your sister or wanted to be left alone. 

“Go on. She wants to see you.” Marta encouraged, gently nudging your back. With her prompting, you opened the door and stepped inside. Ingrid was sitting on the exam table, one of the physios standing in front of her shining one of those pen lights in her eyes. 

“– a concussion for sure,” he was saying. “Probably a few weeks out.”

Ingrid swore, only catching sight of you when the physios stepped away. She gave you a half smile as the physio kept talking, gesturing you closer. 

“You know the drill. Rest, sleep, keep an eye on your symptoms. I’m sure you’ll be well taken care of.” He nodded towards you before walking out of the room. 

You hadn’t moved closer when Ingrid had tried to get you to, your eyes still flitting over your sister, as if you had to constantly reassure yourself that she was fine, standing right in front of you. 

“Hi there.” Ingrid greeted calmly, her heart melting at the concerned expression on your face. 

You chewed on your bottom lip, surging forward and wrapping Ingrid in a tight hug. She huffed as your body collided with hers, a small smile on her face. 

“I’m fine, Sol.” She assured you. “Really, just a bit of a headache.” 

You pulled away, skeptically looking at your sister. “Are you sure? You don’t look so good.” 

It was true; her forehead was already bruising and her eyes squinted as she looked at you, the light bothering her head. It had been a long match, too, and this was clear in the exhausted slump of her shoulders. Still, Ingrid rolled her eyes, lightly shoving at your shoulder. 

“Thanks. I love to hear that.” She got a half smile at that, which she took to be a win. “Alright, come on. You can come with me to get my bag and we can wait for María.” 

Ingrid stood, and even though she seemed pretty steady on her feet, you hovered behind her worriedly, one hand gripping onto the back of her shirt. 

“Sol. I can walk, it’s just a concussion.” Ingrid chuckled, patting your cheek affectionately as you both began to walk together down the long hall. 

You realized that you didn’t know very much about concussions, but you figured there was no such thing as being overcautious, so you stuck close to your sister, even as she slung her arm around your shoulders and kissed the top of your head. Ingrid was like you in the sense that she didn’t like people worrying about her, and she hoped that when Mapi got off the field, the older Spaniard would be able to take charge and make you feel a bit better about the situation, because it was obvious you were stressing. 

And stressing, you would continue to be.

—

“Oh, Sol, can you grab my phone from my bag?” Ingrid requested, taking a bite of her pasta and giving you an innocent smile. You looked at her doubtfully, crossing your arms across your chest as you leaned against the counter. Did she think you were stupid?

Mapi chuckled, rolling her eyes as she did so. “Sí, go get it Sol. And bring it back to me, so I can make sure she doesn’t go on it.”

You smirked, walking out of the room very happy to have something to do. Ingrid deflated, sighing dramatically as took another bite of her dinner. 

“I hate this.” She said grumpily, and Mapi laughed again. The stubborn frown on her girlfriend's face reminded Mapi vividly of you. Ingrid was less obvious about her stubbornness, but you’d picked that trait up from somewhere. 

—

It didn’t matter how much time passed, apparently. It still hurt when you thought of your Mamma, especially when you weren’t expecting to think about her. But you should have been expecting it, because you knew your parents watched all of Ingrid’s matches, would have seen her get hurt. 

Still, when you pulled the phone out of her bag, and the display on Ingrid’s phone showed five missed calls, and ten texts from your Mamma, and a few more of each from your Pappa, it physically ached. 

Your parents were worried about Ingrid, clearly. After a minute, you pulled out your own phone, dropping Ingrid’s bag back onto the bench by the front door, looking at it for the first time since Ingrid had gotten hurt. 

One missed call and three texts from your Mamma. The first time she’d tried to contact you in months. 

Is your sister alright? I saw you in the stands on TV. 

She isn’t answering her phone. 

Just let me know she’s alright when you have a chance. I hope you’re doing okay, kjære. I love you. 

You inhaled deeply, the tornado of emotions inside of you quickly becoming overwhelming. You willed them to quiet down, at least for now. Ingrid was the priority. She always took care of you, and now it was your turn to take care of her. After only a second of hesitation, you quickly replied to your mother, before heading back into the kitchen. 

She’s okay. Just a mild concussion. I’ll tell her to call you when she’s feeling better. 

You knew you were doing the right thing, responding to your Mamma. It was responsible, it was mature. 

That didn’t make it any easier. 

Your Mamma seemed prepared to fly across the continent to get to Ingrid. That was fine, really. That made sense. It was just… why wasn’t she that worried when you got hurt, before? With each passing day, Ingrid and Mapi chipped away at the hold your self hatred had on you. And as each piece crumbled away, something replaced it; a deep confusion. Why? If you were deserving of love, why hadn’t you gotten it? If you weren’t a bad person, why did your Mamma always resent you? It didn’t make sense, and it was this mystery that kept you convinced, even still, that Ingrid was wrong. You weren’t worth much at all. 

You were pretty sure a part of you would always feel like that 16 year old that had finally given up getting her parent’s approval. You thought giving up on that would allow you to stop caring, but you never did. You always felt the gut punch whenever your Mamma would shout at you or ignore you or be disappointed in you. It never stopped hurting, and a part of you would always feel that worthless. 

When you walked back into the kitchen, it seemed as though someone had sucked all the life out of you. There was something disconnected about the way you moved, as though you weren’t really there. It piqued Ingrid and Mapi’s concern instantly, as you handed the Spaniard your sister’s phone. 

Mapi’s confusion faded as she clicked it open, understanding and sadness flickering across her face. 

“Sol? You okay?” Ingrid asked. You jolted out of your stupor, a very fake smile plastering itself onto your face. Ingrid was squinting at you with her face scrunched in pain a bit, and your insistence on being strong only strengthened. 

“Fine! I’m fine.” You assured her, voice cheery and fake. Ingrid looked skeptical, but Scout chose that moment to charge into the kitchen, having likely been napping on your bed. He scampered over to you first, licking your face when you bent down to pet him, before moving to Ingrid, as if he could tell she needed a bit more attention. Your sister pet Scout lovingly, and with her attention elsewhere, you slumped a bit, the weight of your emotions settling squarely back on you. 

And while Ingrid didn’t notice, Mapi certainly did. 

“Okay mi amor, go shower and then we can call it an early night.” Mapi instructed, pressing a kiss to Ingrid’s lips as you grimaced and sighed dramatically. Chuckling, Ingrid agreed, giving Scout one last pet before heading off to shower. 

As soon as Ingrid was out of the kitchen, Mapi turned to you, a sad frown on her face. There were tears leaking out of the corner of your eyes almost instantly, and you shuffled forward into her open arms. 

Mapi hugged you tight for a minute or so, gently rubbing her hand up and down your back. After a few moments, Scout evidently got bored of the lack of attention, or he felt like comforting you himself, because he pushed his way in between you and Mapi, standing awkwardly in between the two of you. This, at least brought a smile to your face, a small laugh escaping you. Mapi pulled away, giving your dog a very fake glare. He just kept wagging his tail and staring up at her. 

“Do you want me to reply to your Mamma?” Mapi wondered gently, her hand finding its way to your shoulder and squeezing. 

“No,” you replied, voice breaking a bit over the word. You cleared your throat, shaking your head just slightly. “No, she texted me and I told her Ingrid was fine and that she’ll call when she’s feeling better.”

María studied you for a minute, the way you couldn’t bring yourself to meet her eyes, the way you shifted uneasily on your feet, as if you wanted nothing more than to run. “Sol, are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” You insisted. “I just want to make sure Ingrid is okay. Are you sure it’s a good idea she showers by herself? Should we have taken her to the hospital? How often do we have to wake her up tonight? Should she sleep with her head elevated? Is ice good for a concussion? Should she have eaten more? Or eaten less? Does she need to drink extra water? What if–”

Mapi cut off your very long spiral of questions, covering your mouth with her hand. “Tranquilo, Sol. Ingrid is fine. I’ve got her, sí?  I know what to do for a concussion, I’ve got everything taken care of.”

You looked like you didn’t believe her, eyebrows furrowed and a frown pulling at your mouth. 

Mapi sighed. “Seriously. I’ve got this. I’m just gonna get her an ice pack for her head and some pain killers and try to get her to sleep. You don’t need to worry about anything” 

“But–”

“Nope. Go get ready for bed. I know you were up late last night playing video games.” Mapi was very rarely stern with you, but in this moment, you saw what her opponents must see on the pitch; a borderline scowl, eyebrows scrunched together as she regarded you authoritatively. 

“That’s not true! I went to bed at 11!” You exclaimed, moving towards the stairs anyway. 

Mapi scoffed. “When I came to get Scout for his walk this morning, you’d fallen asleep with your controller in your hand and your headphones on and you only wear those when you play late at night and you only fall asleep playing when you’re up really late.” 

You rolled your eyes, stomping up the stairs without replying to Mapi. Still, there was something so soft about the Spaniard knowing all your habits, something that made the ache in your chest hurt just a little less. 

—

Ingrid wasn’t an easy patient, Mapi knew this. She just seemed to forget because Ingrid so rarely got sick or hurt. It was a struggle to get her girlfriend to take things slow, more than once having to steady the Norwegian when she stood up or moved too fast. Ingrid was clearly in pain, too, but she kept insisting she didn’t need any pain killers, only agreeing once Mapi promised to go get her favorite coffee tomorrow morning. It was shockingly similar to caring for you when you were hurt or ill, which was more than entertaining for Mapi, since Ingrid always complained about how difficult you were in those circumstances. 

But even once Ingrid was peacefully asleep in bed, Mapi knew her job wasn’t done. The Spaniard tucked the blankets up tighter around Ingrid, pressing a soft kiss onto her forehead. She threw her pajamas on, an old pair of Norway shorts and one of Ingrid’s t-shirts, before surveying the room. The lights were off, Ingrid’s water was full on the nightstand. There was a trashcan next to the bed in case of emergency, and the white noise Ingrid insisted on sleeping with was set to the correct volume. The fan was on the second setting, and Ingrid’s phone was on charge on Mapi’s side of the bed. 

Nodding to herself, Mapi began heading down the hall to where you were almost assuredly still awake. What she wasn’t expecting when she pushed your bedroom door open, though, was to find you crying as you scrolled on your phone. 

“Hey, what’s this cariño?” Mapi said, referencing the tears falling down your face. She stepped into the room and shut the door behind her, noticing that it was meticulously clean, something you only did when you were anxious. You wiped at your eyes furiously, dropping your phone onto the bed next to you without locking it. Mapi picked it up, worried that your Mamma had dared to message you something that would make you cry. 

You sniffled, unsuccessfully trying to stop your tears, knowing very well that you were being more than ridiculous. Mapi wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry at what she found on your phone. On the screen was a google search about concussions, and you’d clicked on a tab of all the potential dangers of a head injury. 

“Sol, don’t google stuff like this.” Mapi told you. “None of this is going to happen.” 

“You don’t know that!” You replied, standing up and beginning to pace back and forth. “She hit her head really hard, she could have a delayed brain bleed or she could have hurt her neck or–” 

Mapi wasn’t sure why you were so worked up over something as simple as a concussion, but the urge to laugh at your absurdness had faded, replaced by a deep concern as she realized you were genuinely convinced something bad was going to happen. 

“Solstråle,”

“No, Mapi, you should be in there with her watching her and making sure she’s okay!” You shouted, raising your voice almost unconsciously as you continued to cry through your words. 

“Hey! Don’t shout.” Mapi said, still calm even though you knew she didn’t like to be yelled at. 

You forced yourself to stop pacing for a moment, taking a few deep breaths. Mapi watched you silently, trying to determine whether or not you’d accept a hug from her at the moment. Your anger seemed to be fading as quickly as it appeared, your shoulders slumping as you sat heavily back down on the bed. You looked small, suddenly, in Mapi’s oversized tshirt and a pair of sweatpants. You looked like the kid you still very much were, not the adult you tried to be. 

Mapi took a seat next to you, wrapping her arm around your shoulders and pulling you to lean against her.

“What’s going on, hmm? Why are you so upset about this?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t like that she’s hurt. It makes me anxious.”

Mapi hummed, her thumb rubbing small circles onto your arm. “How anxious?”

“Very.” You exhaled, leaning into the Spaniard even more. 

Mapi smiled a bit, thinking about just a few months ago, when you would have shied away from any comfort at all. 

“Do you know why?” She wondered. 

“No.” You answered too quickly for her to believe you, and you began fidgeting with your hands in your lap, which was something you only did when you were lying. She didn’t press you, though. Instead, she kissed the top of your head and stood up. 

“Alright. It’s late, your eyes are shutting, you’re exhausted. Go to bed, nena.” 

You merely shrugged, avoiding eye contact with Mapi in a way that told her you were going to be doing anything but going to bed. The Spaniard sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose in between her fingers. 

“How can I get you to sleep, Sol?” 

You thought for a moment, before a small smile tugged at your lips and you looked up at Mapi much too earnestly. You told her your idea, and much as she wanted to say no, she knew you really wouldn’t sleep otherwise. So, she relented, and you grabbed your pillow and a blanket [and Scout], and followed Mapi down the hall to their room. 

—

Ingrid woke up with a pounding headache the next morning. With a groan, she rolled onto her side, hand searching for Mapi to grab onto. Her girlfriend shifted down from where she’d been sitting up in bed, allowing Ingrid to burrow into her chest. 

“How are you feeling, mi amor?” 

“Like I’m dying.” Ingrid sighed dramatically. 

“Dying?!” You cried, sitting bolt upright from where you had been laying on the floor next to Ingrid’s bed. She rolled over to look at you, wincing at the pain she felt from the movement, blinking a few times as if she thought she was hallucinating. 

“Did you sleep on the floor?” Ingrid asked incredulously. 

Still borderline frantic, you nodded your head. “Yes. Are you okay? Do you need anything?” 

Ingrid was silent for a second, looking between you and Mapi, completely bewildered. “Sol, why did you sleep on the floor?” 

“Don’t bother, amor. Answer her question first.” Mapi sighed, reclining back against the headboard and shutting her eyes. 

Ingrid huffed her frustration. “I’m alright, Sol. Why did you sleep on the floor?”

You frowned up at her. “I was worried. Google said the first 24 hours of a concussion are the most important, and I know Mapi is a heavy sleeper, so I just wanted to make sure-”

“Sol, that isn’t your job. I’m fine. You shouldn’t have done that, you have school today, you’re going to be exhausted and sore.” Her tone was more sharp than she intended it to be and she felt immediate guilt at the look of hurt that flashed across your face. 

“Sorry.” You said sharply, getting up and gathering your pillow and your blanket and hastily walking out of the room. 

Ingrid flopped back down onto the bed with a heavy sigh. “I didn’t mean to make her upset.” 

Mapi kissed her temple tenderly. “I know. She’s just worried, and I think you embarrassed her a little. She was going to stay home from school to look after you.” 

“She shouldn’t have to do that.” Ingrid argued. 

Mapi spoke slowly, like Ingrid was missing the point. “She wants to. She’s really anxious about this, Ingrid. She was pacing around her room last night googling concussions trying to figure out how to help. She just wants to make sure you’re okay, like you do for her.” 

Ingrid felt her heart melt a little. She forgot, sometimes, how sensitive you were, how much of a worrier. You kept so much inside that it was always a bit startling to see you express yourself so outwardly. She moved to get up from the bed, but Mapi’s arms remained locked around her midsection. 

“María, I need to go talk to her.” 

“No. You stay here, I’ll go talk to her.” 

“I’m not staying in bed all day.” Ingrid grumbled, fighting back a smile as Mapi kissed her cheek once, then twice more. 

“No, of course not.” Mapi agreed. “You can lay down on the couch, too.” 

Ingrid groaned, slumping back onto the bed and crossing her arms over her chest. “I hate this.” She called. 

“I know! Mapi replied, shaking her head at her girlfriend’s dramatics. 

—

Mapi knocked on your door, hearing a huff that she assumed meant she could come in. You were stuffing your things into your school bag, angry tears tracking down your face. 

“Sol, stop for a second.” 

“No, I’m going to be late.” 

“Solstråle.” 

“Go away, Mapi.” 

“No, stop it.” Mapi said, more firmly this time. She took your bag out of your hands, attempting to hold it out of your reach. You glared at her, lower lip trembling as you did so. “You can stay home. I talked to Ingrid.” 

“She doesn’t want me to stay home.” You choked out, humiliated at how upset this was making you. 

Mapi looked at you for a moment longer before placing a hand on your shoulder. “She does, she just doesn’t want you to worry. Just like you don’t like us to worry about you.” 

“No, she doesn’t want me here.” You argued, finally ripping your bag away from Mapi and slinging it over your shoulder. Mapi almost commented on the fact that you were very clearly still wearing your pajamas, and that school didn’t start for another hour, but another voice cut in before she could. 

“I do want you here, sweetheart. I just don’t want you worrying about me.” 

Both you and Mapi turned to face Ingrid amusingly fast. 

“Ingrid, I told you to stay in bed!” Mapi chided good naturedly, knowing how much her girlfriend hated to be babied. 

“Sol-”

“Go lay down, Ingrid. I’m fine.” You pleaded, the redness of your eyes and the wobble of your chin not helping your statement. 

Your sister ignored you, crossing the room in two long strides and pulling you into an almost painfully tight hug. Mapi stepped out of the room, knowing that this was one of your Engen moments, where you really just wanted your sister. 

“No, Sol. I’m fine.” Ingrid told you, her fingers scratching lightly at your scalp where her hand rested. 

You sniffled, pressing your face further into her shoulder, as if to assure yourself that she was really there. “Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure. I’m okay. Everything is okay.” Ingrid promised, pausing for a moment before she extracted herself from the hug and led you to sit on the edge of your bed next to her. She gave you a second to calm down, still crying softly into her shoulder, as she took in the sight of your room. The framed photo of the three of you on your desk. The polaroids up on the wall, all taken at the top of a hike you’d completed. The map that Mapi had given you, and the painting of the waterfall in Norway. 

Ingrid didn’t like to see you cry. But your tears, just like the things decorating your room, showed that you were feeling things. Not like before, when it was difficult to even get you to explain how your day was in more than two words. You felt safe to feel here. Safe to be vulnerable. 

So, she didn’t like the tears. But everytime she saw you cry, she thanked the universe that you were still here with her to cry, still willing to push your face into her shoulder and grip onto her shirt with your fist like you’d done when you were little. She’d never take that for granted. Ever. 

She didn’t take her responsibility to care for you lightly, either. 

“What’s going on, Solstråle? Why are you so worried?” 

Again, it was that magic ability Ingrid had to get you to admit things you normally never would. Instead of brushing your sister off like you’d done to Mapi the night before, you sucked in a breath and tried to explain the absolute mess of feeling inside of you.

“Do you ever… feel like things are too good? Like everything is going so well. And you’re happy, but you aren’t sure you deserve to be. So something bad must be about to happen to ruin it all? It feels like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. It’s too good to be true, and I’m so scared, all the time, that I’m going to do something to mess everything up, or something bad is going to happen.”

Ingrid wasn’t really quite sure what to say to that. Whether it was because her head was pounding with an incessant headache, or because she’d truly never felt the way that you were describing right now, she wasn’t sure. She just knew that you needed reassurance that no one was going to come and take away your happiness. 

“You deserve to be happy. You’ve been through so much, Sol, and you deserve to be happy. I’m not going to let anyone take that away from you. Ever. It’s not too good to be true. No shoe is going to drop. Nothing bad is going to happen and you’re not going to mess anything up. I’m here with you. I’m not going anywhere. I love you so much, Solstråle, and no one could ever take that away. Nothing could ever stop me from loving my baby sister.” 

Ingrid felt tears soaking through the fabric of her shirt, and she worried she’d said the wrong thing. Still, she kept running her hand up and down your back, keeping you held close to her. She wouldn’t be the first one to pull away. 

“I… I want to believe that. I just don’t know how to stop being scared. I don’t know how to convince my brain that nothing bad is going to happen.” 

“I don’t really know either.” Ingrid hummed. “But we’ll figure it out together, no?” 

You nodded, feeling absurdly emotional at the together part. 

“And anytime you feel scared, you tell me or Mapi. And I’ll be rational and give you a hug and Mapi can make a joke so bad you have no choice but to laugh, and she’ll be happy because her goal was just to distract you anyway.” 

You let out a weak laugh, leaning away from your sister to wipe at your face with your sleeve. 

“Okay.” You agreed. “I’ll try.” 

Ingrid smiled at you. “Good. Now come downstairs with me. We’re going to put on a reality TV show and you’re going to describe everything happening on screen because I can’t watch.” 

You laughed again, standing and following your sister out of your room. You held onto her arm as she walked down the stairs, and Ingrid let you. Sometimes, she couldn’t fix things right away. She’d let you hover, and in time, you’d realize she was alright and you’d be okay. 

Or, she’d have to climb out the window in the middle of the night and run away to Frido’s just to get away from your and Mapi’s hovering. Either way. 

—

:) i love my child sol.

[thedensworld]

And No News | J.Ww

Genre: angst, est relationship

Summary: Wonwoo can't reach you all day and he was worried.

Wonwoo tapped in the passcode and slipped into your apartment. The place was dark, only a sliver of streetlight filtering through the blinds. You weren't home yet. He glanced at his watch—11 pm, and still no sign of you. His jaw tightened, frustration simmering beneath his usually calm demeanor. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed deeply before dropping onto the cold, untouched couch.

He fished out his phone from his pocket and stared at the screen. None of his messages had been delivered. Maybe your phone had died, or worse, maybe you turned it off on purpose. He didn’t know, and it bothered him more than he wanted to admit. It felt like you were shutting him out, like he was some shadow lurking on the outskirts of your life, some afterthought you remembered only when it was convenient.

Wonwoo knew it was petty to think that way. You were busy; he got it. He had his own responsibilities too. But he always tried to carve out space for you, for this—whatever it was that you two had. Yet it was starting to feel like he was the only one doing any of the carving, the only one bending and compromising until there was nothing left of himself. He hated comparing, but lately, it seemed like he was the only one trying to keep your relationship from crumbling into something unrecognizable.

The sound of the door code beeping startled him from his thoughts. He glanced at his watch again—it was past midnight. An hour had slipped by without him even realizing. He looked up as you stepped in, calling his name softly, like you hadn’t expected him to be there. You noticed him immediately because of the faint glow of the lamp he’d turned on.

“Hey,” you greeted, your voice weary as you dropped your bag and keys on the coffee table. Wonwoo watched you silently, his gaze following you as you shuffled toward the bathroom without another word. No explanation, no apology, not even a simple how are you? The door clicked shut, and he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

Of course, you were probably tired. You always were these days. But so was he.

When you finally emerged, fresh-faced and changed into your pajamas, you walked over to him, crossing your arms as if bracing yourself for something.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your tone neutral, almost distant.

Wonwoo didn’t answer immediately, his eyes scanning your face, searching for a sign—any sign—that you cared even a fraction as much as he did.

“What time is it?” he asked quietly.

You glanced at the clock and sighed. “Yeah, it’s late.”

“It’s past midnight,” he repeated, his voice tighter this time. “What were you doing out this late?”

You shifted uncomfortably, taking a small step back. “I was working… then I had dinner with a friend.”

Wonwoo swallowed hard, his throat dry. He hadn’t eaten because he’d been waiting, sitting here like some idiot who believed you’d come home in time. But that wasn’t what bothered him. No, it was the way you didn’t even think to inform him, the way you assumed it was okay to leave him hanging.

“I tried texting you all afternoon,” he said slowly, holding up his phone. “But your phone was off.”

You rubbed your face, exhaustion lining your features. “Sorry, I forgot to charge it.”

Wonwoo let out a humorless laugh. “You always say that. It’s not the first time your phone’s died while you’re working, and it’s not the first time I’ve been left wondering where the hell you are.” His voice rose slightly, unable to keep the bitterness out. “I was worried about you all day.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I’ve been caught up with a project we need to finish by the weekend. I lost track of time and got distracted.” Your voice was pleading, but it only made the irritation in Wonwoo’s chest flare hotter.

“‘Lost track of time,’ ‘forgot,’ ‘I’m sorry.’” Wonwoo’s eyes blazed as he leaned back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling as if it held all the answers he was searching for. “Last time, you said sorry too. But you still did it again. Every. Single. Time.”

“I know—” you began, but he cut you off, sitting up abruptly.

“No, you don’t know!” he snapped, startling both of you. “You don’t get it. I’m tired too. I have things to do, responsibilities to take care of, but I’m always here, aren’t I? Waiting for you, making excuses for you, forgiving you before you even apologize—if you even bother to apologize at all.”

“Wonwoo, please—”

“Please, what?” he demanded, his voice breaking a little. He stood up, towering over you, his eyes filled with something raw and painful. “I’m tired of always coming second. Of always being the one who has to understand. You say you’re sorry, but you don’t change. You never change.”

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but his emotions were spiraling. He looked away, jaw clenched. “Sometimes it feels like I’m the only one trying to keep us together. Like I’m… I’m the only one who even cares.”

“That’s not fair,” you whispered, your voice shaking slightly. “I’m doing my best. It’s just work—”

“It’s always work,” Wonwoo muttered bitterly. “You know what? I get it. Work is important. I would never ask you to choose. But… would it kill you to make a little more room for me? For us?”

Silence fell between you two, heavy and suffocating. You looked down, your lips pressed into a thin line, and he knew then that whatever he said, however much he begged, it wouldn’t change a thing.

“Forget it,” he muttered, brushing past you and heading for the door. “I should go. You’re probably tired, right? Just get some rest.”

“Wonwoo, wait—” you called, reaching out to him, but he was already halfway out the door.

“Goodnight,” he murmured softly, and before you could respond, the door closed behind him with a quiet thud. And you were left standing there, alone, with the apology you never got to say stuck in your throat.

*

Wonwoo never got mad—really mad. And last night was the first time you’d heard his voice rise like that, cracking through the usually calm and unshakable persona he carried like armor. Sure, you two had argued before. Little things here and there, petty misunderstandings that fizzled out almost as soon as they started. It was always resolved with one of you giving up or simply brushing it aside, pretending it hadn’t happened in the first place.

In the beginning, you were the one who used to pick fights. His calm and quiet demeanor had frustrated you to no end. You couldn’t understand him, couldn’t read him, and the constant absence—both physical and emotional—drove you insane. He was always caught up in his work, giving little time for you two to sit down and have a real, heart-to-heart conversation.

You used to demand updates, craving any tiny piece of information that would give you a sense of closeness. Where was he? Who was he with? Why couldn’t he spare a second to reach out? Wonwoo was a terrible communicator, leaving you grappling to hold onto the loose threads of your relationship. But he had changed for you. Little by little, he’d learned how to make room for you, even if it meant stepping outside of his comfort zone. You’d seen his effort, and that had made you fall for him even harder.

But then things flipped. You were the one who got busy, swept into the whirlwind of your new job at an event organizing company. The endless meetings, sleepless nights, and back-to-back projects consumed your time. You thought he’d understand since he had always been the busy one. Yet as you dove deeper into your career, it was as if you’d unknowingly turned into the very person you used to resent him for being—distant, preoccupied, forgetting to even check in.

Wonwoo’s patience was unraveling thread by thread, the steadiness that had once drawn you to him now cracking under the weight of your absence. It was almost as if he were fighting an unseen rival—your job, your responsibilities—jealous in a way that confused you. Did you like his attention? His sudden need to know your every move, to constantly check up on you? Yes, you did. But you had so much on your plate that you assumed he’d understand, just as you had tried to understand him before.

Now, standing in the cold bathroom light, you were doubled over the sink, the sour bile of your dinner clawing its way up your throat. You retched violently, but nothing came out—only a bitter, acrid taste lingering on your tongue. The pain in your stomach was relentless, searing hot, and spreading like wildfire. You clutched the sink’s edge, trying to steady yourself, but your vision blurred as a wave of dizziness crashed over you.

Your knees buckled, body folding as you slid against the wall and slumped onto the cold tile floor. You tried to take a deep breath, but your lungs felt constricted, and each inhale only made the pain worse. Every nerve screamed in agony, and your entire body felt heavy—like it wasn’t even your own anymore.

Fumbling blindly, you reached for your phone on the bathroom counter. You didn’t know who else to call, who else would drop everything for you at a moment’s notice. Your fingers trembled as you dialed the one number you had on speed dial—Wonwoo’s.

It rang once, then twice, and for a moment, dread crept in. What if he didn’t pick up? What if he was still too upset, too angry with you?

Finally, the line clicked, but instead of the familiar warmth you usually heard in his voice, you were met with a cold, strained tone. “What is it?”

His indifference hurt more than you expected, but you couldn’t dwell on it. You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing out the words between ragged breaths. “Can you come…?” Your voice was a weak rasp, barely audible even to yourself.

“What’s wrong?” His tone changed instantly, the sharp edge replaced by alarm. “Where are you?”

You leaned back against the wall, your body sliding further down as your grip on the phone loosened. “I think… food poisoning,” you managed to whisper, feeling the world start to tilt and spin around you. “I think I’m going to pass out…”

“Wait, what?” Wonwoo’s voice grew louder, panic bleeding into each syllable. “Where are you? Are you home?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out, struggling to stay conscious. The phone slipped from your grasp and hit the floor with a soft thud. You could faintly hear Wonwoo’s voice calling your name, his words frantic and urgent, but it felt like it was coming from somewhere far away, almost as if you were underwater.

“Hey—stay with me! Can you hear me? I’ll be there in ten, okay? Just hang in there!” His voice cracked, the desperation palpable.

You tried to nod, to say something, anything, but your vision was darkening, the pain in your stomach swelling until it felt like you couldn’t breathe. Cold sweat trickled down your face, and you fought to keep your eyes open, to stay awake for just a little longer.

“Wonwoo…” you whispered weakly, but your voice was swallowed up by the crushing silence of the bathroom.

Then everything went black.

*

Wonwoo sat quietly in the waiting room, eyes fixed on the floor as the doctor examined you. The sterile, cold atmosphere of the hospital did nothing to ease the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind. The moment he got you to the emergency room, all the anger and frustration from the night before had drained from him, replaced by an overwhelming sense of guilt. This was his fault—he was sure of it. You were lying there, weak and suffering, because he couldn’t understand you, couldn’t meet you halfway.

He was selfish. He knew that much about himself. From the moment he met you, you were everything he had ever wanted—smart, beautiful, independent—but deep down, he feared that he couldn’t be enough for you. He’d always been terrified that his flaws, his shortcomings, would eventually drive you away. But you had changed him. You had shown him how to grow, how to be better, and he wanted to be better—for you.

But last night… last night was different. He lost control. He let his insecurities get the best of him, raising his voice at you for the first time in your entire relationship. It felt wrong, and yet, in the heat of the moment, he couldn’t stop himself. He knew now that you weren’t the only one at fault. You had been caught up in your new job, excited and busy with the demands of a new career—exploring everything you could bring to the table. And more than anything, you were happy. It was written all over your face when you talked about your work, a joy you hadn’t had in your last job.

He should have understood that. After all, he had been in the same position not too long ago. When work consumed him to the point where he couldn't find time for anything else, including you. How could he have forgotten that?

The realization made his chest tighten with regret. He had no right to say half the things he’d said last night. The harsh words, the accusatory tone—they were driven by his own insecurities, not by any real fault of yours. He had projected his fears onto you, punished you for doing the same thing he had once done, and now you were lying in a hospital bed because of it.

The sound of footsteps pulled him from his thoughts, and he looked up to see the doctor approaching. “It’s food poisoning,” the doctor said, his voice calm and professional. “She’s been treated, and once she wakes up, she should be fine. It wasn’t anything too serious, but she’ll need some rest.”

Wonwoo exhaled deeply, a rush of relief flooding through him. It wasn’t something worse. You were going to be okay. But still, the weight of guilt sat heavy on his shoulders. He had almost lost you, not just because of the food poisoning, but because of how badly he had handled everything. He realized now that his anger wasn’t truly directed at you—it was at himself, for not being able to keep up, for not being the partner he thought you deserved.

As he waited for you to wake up, Wonwoo made a silent promise to himself: he would fix this. No more insecurities, no more resentment. He would try harder, be more understanding, and give you the space you needed to grow. Because, in the end, all he wanted was for you to be happy—even if it meant stepping aside and letting you thrive.

“Wonwoo...” your voice was weak, barely above a whisper, but it snapped him out of his anxious thoughts. He immediately turned to you, his heart skipping as he saw your eyes flutter open. Without hesitation, he dashed to your bedside, his face softening with relief.

“Do you need anything? Are you okay?” he asked urgently.

You mumbled, “Water...” and he was quick to get some. As he gently helped you sit up, holding the glass to your lips, the sight of you drinking, of you finally awake, allowed the tension in his chest to ease.

“How do you feel? Is your stomach still killing you?” Wonwoo's voice was full of concern, his eyes searching your face for any sign of lingering pain.

You shook your head slowly, “No, I’m fine now.” Your voice was hoarse, but steady. “What time is it?”

He glanced at his watch. “It’s just past lunchtime. You’ve been out for about two hours, baby.”

You sighed, leaning back against the pillows. “I must’ve scared you when I called this morning.”

Wonwoo shook his head, leaning closer to reassure you. “No, don’t worry about that. Honestly, I’m just relieved you called. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you passed out and I didn’t know.” His voice was soft, but there was an underlying fear that hinted at how much the morning had rattled him.

You nodded, the weight of everything from last night pressing against your chest. “I’m sorry...”

“Don’t be,” he quickly interrupted.

“No,” you insisted, looking him in the eyes, “I’m sorry for last night, and for... all the other times. I made you feel like you were being neglected.”

Wonwoo sighed, lowering his gaze. “It’s not just that. I was being childish. I let my frustration get the better of me. I was wrong, too. I was selfish. I’ve been so caught up in my own feelings that I didn’t stop to think about how hard it must be for you... waiting for me while I was busy all the time.” His voice cracked a little as he finally admitted the guilt he’d been carrying.

You reached for his hand, your touch warm and reassuring. “But still, I shouldn’t have made you feel like I was ignoring you. I wasn’t trying to push you away. It’s just... I’ve been feeling so overwhelmed with work lately, trying to prove myself, trying to manage everything.”

Wonwoo looked at you, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I know. I get it now. And I don’t want you to take anything I said last night to heart. It was just... I was angry, and I didn’t mean it. I promise.”

You gave him a small smile, one that held both forgiveness and exhaustion. Then, with a playful stretch of your arms, you said, “I want a hug.”

Wonwoo couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped him, and without hesitation, he wrapped you in a warm embrace, one that seemed to melt away all the lingering tension between you. It felt right—like this was where you both needed to be after everything.

“Let’s get lunch after this,” Wonwoo murmured, his chin resting on the top of your head. “Anything you want.”

Your ears perked up, and you pulled back just enough to look at him with playful curiosity. “Anything I want?”

Wonwoo chuckled again, his smile soft and full of affection. “Yes, anything you want.”

He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment before whispering, “I love you. I’ll always love you, no matter what.”

As his words sank in, you felt a warmth spread through your chest, and for the first time in days, everything felt at peace.

[artemismoorea03]

DPxDC Prompt: Who's Child Is This?

Inspired by an ICarly Clip. "Mr. Wayne, we have your son here."

Bruce blinked, then checked the number on the phone. It was from the police station. He then looked around the table which had fallen silent when Alfred had brought him the phone.

Dick, Jason, Tim, Duke, and Damian were all accounted for. Even Jon was there so they couldn't have misidentified him as his kid.

"Which one?" Bruce chose to ask.

"Tim Drake."

Bruce looked at Tim specifically as he tilted his head confused. "Are you sure?"

"Oh yeah, Mr. Wayne, we know your boys by now."

"Right... alright, I'll be there in a couple of minutes. Can I ask on why Tim has been taken into custody?"

Tim tilted his head even further while some of the others around the table started chuckling.

"He was found trespassing near the new Axion Labs at the edge of the city. The owner chose not to press charges so we're sending him home in your custody."

"I see, I'll be there soon. Thank you for the call."

"Of course, Mr. Wayne, we'll see you soon."

Bruce ended the call then looked at his kids. "Apparently, Tim has been arrested for trespassing near the Axion Labs construction site."

"And you didn't even invite me?" Dick chuckled at Tim, "We could have had so much fun together."

Tim scrunched his nose at the idea. "No way, that whole area is an OSHA violation. If I went there it wouldn't be out of costume, whoever that kid is was risking his life just walking within a block of it."

"Well, I'm going to go down there and see what 'Tim' was thinking." Bruce got out of his seat, "I'll be back soon."

"New brother?" Cass asked as Damian growled.

"We're going to assume no for now, but we may have another for dinner depending on what's going on."

"I will prepare another seat while you are gone, Master Bruce."

"Thanks, Alfred. I'll be back soon."

-

When Bruce walked into the police station he immediately noticed 'Tim' sitting in front of one of the officers desks. It was a newer officer and it was clear that neither Detective Montoya or Commissioner Gordon were in or somebody would have noticed that this kid definitely wasn't Tim.

Yes, the kid had black hair which was on the shorter side but his hair fell in front of his face more than Tim would wear it, and his eyes were unnaturally blue. He was pale in an old hoodie, blue jeans, and red shoes. The biggest difference though was that this kid looked like he was only pushing 15, not 17. Yes, he looked quite a bit like Tim but anybody who had spent more than five minutes with Tim Drake would know they weren't the same person.

"Mr. Wayne." The officer called as Bruce walked over, looking at the kid.

He was thin and pale, which a tired look on his face. He also shrunk away from Bruce when he walked over.

Bruce knew what a kid in trouble looked like. So he smiled down at the kid. "You know, Tim, when I said you could go to the lab to do your science homework I didn't expect you to go all the way to Axion Labs."

The kid looked at him, surprised then seemed to quickly catch on. "What can I say, I had to see what terrible science looked like. Sorry for making you come down here."

"It's fine, but are you okay?"

"Y-yeah, totally." He said, his hand subconsciously moving to his ribs as though he was hurt.

"Alright then you are grounded."

"What?!" 'Tim' squeaked, "Come on-"

"Nope. You are ground... for... 'til... college."

"FOR 'TIL COLLEGE?!"

"For 'til college!"

The officer cleared his throat then held out a clipboard. "If you sign the red x's you can take your son and leave, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce took the papers, quickly looking over it and signing it. It was strange to see that all of the handwriting on the paperwork was adult writing. Had they even asked this kid his name? Once everything was signed he passed it back over to the officer who nodded.

"Looks good. Thanks Mr. Wayne and you stay out of trouble. The whole city knows your face. You're just lucky Mr. Masters didn't want to press charges."

"Yeah, so lucky." The kid rolled his eyes, then stood up and looked up at Bruce. "Can we go now?"

"Sure thing, chum. Come on." Bruce said, leading the kid out of the station and to the car. The kid seemed hesitant as he looked around, his eyes narrowing when they landed on a gentlemen with silver hair in a ponytail, only when the man smiled at 'Tim' did the kid speak up again.

"Come on, Dad, let's get out of here before the stalkers find us." He said, climbing in the front seat and closing the door, much to the annoyance of the silver haired man.

Bruce climbed in the front seat, buckling in and driving away from the station. "So... 'not Tim' what's your name?"

"Danny. Just Danny... sorry about all of that Mr. Wayne. That guy took one look at me and started calling me 'Tim' and when I tried to explain that I wasn't 'Tim' hey called me a liar. But if I gave them my real name then... somebody else was going to come collect me and I didn't want that. So... I let them call me Tim. I'm sorry, I hope it didn't put you out..."

"Not at all. But... are you okay? Why were you at Axion Labs?"

Danny seemed hesitant, "I... it sounds crazy."

"It's Gotham, kid. Crazy things happen all the time..."

"Right... well um... I-I was kidnapped from my home and taken to Axion Labs. I-I escaped and when I was trying to leave the grounds the police saw me and thought I was trespassing. Since the cops were I decided to play along with it..."

Bruce frowned, "Kidnapped? Is... is there somebody I can call?"

Danny shook his head. "I have an older sister who is probably going crazy looking for me but other than her and a couple of friends there wouldn't be anybody. My parents... they were kind of involved. They... they found out something about me and tried to hurt me, I ran to somebody I knew I couldn't trust because I thought maybe he would get his head out of his ass but I was just being an idiot." Danny hugged himself. "You can drop me off anywhere though, you don't have to bother yourself with me or my shit."

Bruce pulled to a stoplight and reached over to the kid who flinched, Bruce waited until he relaxed before Bruce patted his head. "I'm not going to just leave you on the street. Besides, it's late and by now my butler has already dished you some dinner. So at least for tonight you're welcome to stay with me and my kids. We'll get some food in your belly, make sure you're not wounded, let you call your sister, and find a way to get you home. Sound good?" He asked, moving his hand away.

Danny looked at Bruce, seeming a bit untrusting for a moment before he glanced at something near Bruce and relaxed. There was nothing with Bruce, he wasn't carrying anything, but whatever Danny was seeing was enough to put his mind at ease. "Okay... but if anybody tries anything be warned, I bite."

Bruce chuckled, "So do most of the others. You'll fit right in."

'But just what the hell is going on with this kid? Does it have anything to do with that man outside the police station? I've got to get to the bottom of this before this kid leaves, especially if he's still a target.'

[seongsgirl]

— your girl.

; no smut in this, but my blog is nsfw, so please, mdni.

— I dedicate this work to @starryjake <3 me and jake love you so much.

You laid flat on your bed, eyes fixated on the tiny glow in the dark stars that you insisted that Jake help you stick to your ceiling. They glew dimly in the dark, not getting enough sunlight during the day to make the glow to their full capacity; it didn’t help that you had the curtains drawn closed all day. 

The room was dark, not feeling like getting up to turn the light on and opting to sit in the dark, the only light coming from the sticky stars and the little sliver of light peeking through the crack in your doorframe that shone from the hallway. 

You sighed softly and turned to your side, eyes landing on the framed picture of you and Jake on your desk. He was slightly crouched and your chin rested on top of his head, both of you adorning the cheesiest smiles you have ever wore. Jake’s glasses were slightly crooked and his cheeks were tinted red, much like yours. 

The photo was taken during some event that was happening on campus a little under six months ago. It was one of the happiest moments of your life and you silently thank Jungwon daily for capturing that moment perfectly. 

Then again, any moment you spent with Jake was a happy one. He knew just what to say every time you needed reassurance, knew the perfect remedies for a broken heart when Heeseung left you with one. He knew things about you that you didn’t even know about yourself, he knew everything and more. 

Jake was essentially everything you have ever dreamed about, the person you always dreamed of being with. And you were with him, but not in the way you truly wanted. He was just your best friend and roommate, nothing more, nothing less.

And that made falling in love with him even harder to deal with.

You sighed again and rolled over to your back again, looking at the stars. They began to dim even more, losing their charge as the night progressed. It reminded you a lot of yourself and your current state. You were so bright, so full of energy and ready to show the world what you are capable of. But something shifted within the last few months, and your spark was dulling. Nothing quite felt the same anymore, and you didn’t know what was changing, but something was.

Maybe it was the unrequited love and stress of masking it for so long.

You took a deep breath before looking over at your desk again, searching for your desk clock. The digital clock read nine-thirty and you mentally prepared to see Jake any second now. It was a Saturday night, your usual night to spend with Jake in the living room, a movie on the television and snacks and drinks littering the coffee table as you both caught up with each other from the events that occurred over the week. But you really couldn’t be bothered to partake in the weekly ritual tonight. 

Almost like clockwork, you hear a faint knock on your door and a familiar voice saying your name. You didn’t respond.

There was another quiet knock before the door slowly creaked open. The hallway light shone brightly in your bedroom and burned your eyes, groaning as you clamped them shut. 

“Y/n?” Jake says slowly, as if he’s scared. You slowly open your eyes and look at the boy standing in your doorframe, his head tilted like a puppy. 

“Sorry, Jake.” you started, a puzzling look taking over the boy’s face. “I don’t think I’ll do movie night tonight.” you mumbled.

Jake took a couple cautious steps into your room. It wasn’t like you to skip movie night, in fact, you’ve never skipped one in the entire two and a half years that you two lived together. Jake licked his bottom lip before speaking. “Is everything…are you okay?”

You chuckled. “Not really.”

You could practically hear Jake’s heart shatter in his chest. There you were, his best friend in the entire universe, laying in a dark room while blankly staring at the ceiling and he had no idea you weren’t okay. 

You heard Jake take in a breath before shuffling through your room and sitting on the foot of your bed, your head close to his thigh. You looked over at him to see him already looking down at you. His hair was scruffy and he had his glasses on, really bringing together his nerdy boy image. His eyes were full of worry, yours full of nothing. 

And you both sat there, looking into each other’s eyes in silence for a moment before you turned your attention back to the now dim star stickers. 

“What do you do when you love someone, but they don’t love you back?” you said abruptly, breaking the silence.

Jake looked back over at you, eyes slightly wide. “Huh?”

A sad smile crept onto your lips. “You know what I’m talking about, Jake.” you turned back to him, “When you feel like you can’t love someone even more than you already do, but you know that those feelings aren’t reciprocated. How does someone get closure with something like that?”

Jake’s eyes turned glossy, and his lips scrunched to one side of his face. “I-I don’t know…” he said softly. “I wish I did, because I know exactly how you’re feeling.” Jake put a soft hand on yours that rested on your stomach. 

You sighed. “It hurts, knowing that he’s exactly who I always dreamed about but knowing that he’ll never love me the way I do with him.”

“Do I know him?” Jake asked.

Your lips fell into a straight line. “Yeah, you do.”

Jake hums, acknowledging your response. “Well, I hope he finally sees what’s in front of him and stops being stupid.”

You chuckle softly. “I hope your girl realizes that, too.” and silence falls upon you both again. 

Minutes feel like hours and years before you speak again. 

“Jake,” you mumbled, not letting your vision stray from the stars, but you see Jake shift to look at you in your peripheral. “That’s his name.”

You hear Jake’s breath catch in his throat and you feel your eyes glaze with tears, a single one slipping out and falling down your face. 

“Y/n…” Jake whispers, taking his thumb and wiping away the stray tear. “That’s her name.”

And suddenly the ever growing pit in your stomach doesn't feel as big.

You look over at Jake, and he’s still looking at you. You sit up and come face to face with him. Jake’s hands come up to your cheeks, holding your face gently, and you melt into his touch. 

“I’m sorry I never told you…” Jake whispers, your noses brushing and foreheads pressed together. “Me too,” you reply, your lips ghosting over his. 

“I’ve always wanted you to be my girl. From the day I met you, I knew I had to do whatever it took to get you.” his thumb brushed your cheek.

“Jake,” you press your lips to his softly and you feel him immediately melt into the kiss. You broke away and looked at him with a soft smile. 

“I’ve always been your girl.”

[ecrivainsolitaire]

Humans have the capability of perceiving when they're being stared at, even if they can't see it.

Dr. T'Chem was staring at Lieutenant /θkɡɾɑːˈŋæ/ (or as his current fling affectionately nicknamed her, "Tucker-Annie"), whose dorsal spikes were still rattling after the incident at the holodeck. It was his first time at the witness stand, and he didn't want to ruin a young star sailor's life.

Lieutenant Tucker-Annie was the combat specialist in charge of the training dojo of Federation Vessel TSN457, named after the Terra-Saturn-Ceres coalition where Dr. T'Chem currently served as the xenoanthropologist charged with facilitating human integration to the local Federation of Fraternal Planets and Satellites. The FFPS had the goal of finding planets with intelligent life to trade resources and technology, and due to their recent incorporation, local research vessels were fitted with diverse crews to acclimate everyone to each other's cultures and biological needs. Dr. T'Chem was the human expert in the ship, and was tasked with helping smooth over interpersonal relations among the crew.

The relations were, at that moment, as bumpy as Lt. Tucker-Annie's dorsal spike line.

An incident had occurred during a training exercise. The squad consisted of a Venusian, two Saturnians, three Ceresians, two monks from the Transcorporeal Temple of Robotic Ascension, and five Terrans (two humans, two dogs and a cybernetically enhanced cat). The exercise consisted of getting through a generic jungle scenario and, unbeknownst to the squad, avoiding a team of ninjas lead by Lt. Tucker-Annie trying to take them out one by one. It was supposed to test the way they would react to a surprise attack.

It was not supposed to reveal that humans could sense when they were being stalked.

Of course, any trained sailor would have an ingrained knowledge of potential threats and how to spot them. Look for the shadows that are too dark, listen for the spot air isn't blowing from, things like that. Basic things most people don't think about but that can be identified if you think about them.

This was not that.

"Something's watching us," said Crew Johnson, in that sloppy way only creatures with lips spoke.

"What do you mean? There's cameras everywhere, of course they're watching us," responded Crew Hessikh, slithering over the vines on a tree branch to cross a river. She grabbed the axe in Crew Johnson's belt with her telekinesis and took down a small tree to serve as a bridge.

"Crew Flufflepaws, could you please take a look?" Asked Crew Johnson, nervously looking around. Crew Flufflepaws got on the tree as well and scanned the terrain from above.

"I can't see anything, or smell anything. And my hearing isn't what it used to be. I'll stay on the lookout for—" a horrendous hiss interrupted the automatic translator's feed. Crew Flufflepaws' comm line cut off.

Hessikh and Johnson looked at each other. That was the strongest fighter of their team, gone. They knew it was a simulation, but it still gave them chills.

The rest of their crew mates were split into two different teams further along the path. Crew Fanning's voice came from the comm line.

"Johnson, Hessikh, are you okay? What happened to Flufflepaws?"

"We don't know, Johnson said something was watching us and it went to check, then we lost comms."

"I felt it too. I know this isn't that kind of exercise but I think— AAAHHH!"

Two blaster shots were heard, then a thud.

Lieutenant Tucker-Annie, who was watching Hessikh and Johnson from the mud pit behind the latter, had her tranquilizer dart ready. She got ready to shoot down Hessikh, but then heard a voice over the comm line.

"Code Lithium, we have a Code Lithium, we have to end the simulation, I just took down- I can't-" the breathing was sounding heavier and faster, too fast for a human.

"Fanning, calm down, remember your sutras. We need you focused, what happened?"

"I felt like I was being watched, so I turned around and saw this thing and it scared me and I jumped and I thought it was on stun mode and-"

"It's alright, we're calling it off. Captain, we have a Code Lithium! End the simulation now or- fuck, there it is again. Hessikh, do you see any heat sources?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary- why haven't they shot it down alre-"

The next thing Lieutenant Tucker-Annie remembered was the sound of a heel turn over the mud, followed by darkness.

Lt. Tucker-Annie woke up in the hospital bay, getting her tail regenerated by a robot nurse. She looked over and found her underling on the next bed, with a huge bandage on the side of his neck and a wing in a cast. Thankfully, he would be alright as soon as the stem cell bank was reprogrammed after her treatment.

The disciplinary board was called, an investigation was open, and both Crew Fanning and their captain were put on paid leave while the investigation was ongoing. Dr. T'Chem was called in as an expert after a review of the holodeck footage revealed there was no way Crew Fanning could have heard, seen or smelled the hidden sailor.

It was the first time in a while he hadn't helped himself to a glass of Venusian whiskey for breakfast. He really didn't want to mess this up.

"And would you care to explain how this is possible, Doctor?" Asked the prosecution, staring him down with an unnerving amount of eyes.

"I am as astounded as this court; our firm has been looking into Terran medical literature and we're still trying to figure out how it works; they don't even know, but they know it does happen, it's been documented for thousands of years. I have a hypothesis, but I don't know if it's even testable."

There was a murmur in the court. The judge asked him to elaborate.

"The way eyesight works is the light bounces off of opaque bodies and in its way it collides with the lenses in our corneas, which send it to the brain as electrical signals to be interpreted. The light that doesn't go into our eyes just bounces off our bodies and other opaque objects as well, the photons go everywhere and anywhere. This is the same for most species in this constellation, including humans. But even other Terran species don't have these abilities, as Crew Flufflepaws has testified."

A begrudging meow was heard from the audience.

"Order in the court, please. Dr. T'Chem, what do you suggest is the origin of this mysterious sense?"

The camera drones all hoovered around him. Dr. T'Chem straightened his fins and got close to the microphone.

"I believe it's possible that humans have a sense of touch so sensitive that they can feel the photons that don't bounce back. The ones that go into an eye instead of an opaque body. I think humans can actually feel in their skin when they are being watched."

There was an uproar in the crowd. His paramour, a dark skinned young human from the human settlement known as "Colombia", grabbed the religious symbol on her necklace and made a gesture with it he hadn't quite figured out yet.

The trial had to go on recess.

The implications were incalculable. Three dozen biologists from six different planets, including Terra, had emailed him before the end of the day to ask him to justify himself. Multiple human religious leaders took the chance to link it to demonic possession or moral evils. By the end of the week, four different labs were trying to figure out a way to double blind test shooting a photon cannon on a human's back and trying to get them to sense it.

But most importantly, the news made it outside of the Federation. The rumours about this new species that couldn't be stalked got so far, it ended up affecting the outcome of a border conflict with the Betelgeuse Libertarian Army on the Federation's favour.

Humans were terrifying.

If this is what they evolved to be, what was their planet like?

[theharddeck]

do you wanna make somethin' of it (Robert "Bob" Floyd x fem!reader)

pairing: bob floyd x fem!reader (no y/n)

synopsis: turns out, our favorite WSO has a side hustle, as quinn's favorite cowboy.

word count: 10.4k

warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI: audio porn, a truly unhinged amount of dirty talk, overuse of pet names, bob's raging size kink, overstimulation via vibrators (and otherwise), unprotected PiV sex, an unrealistic number of orgasms, some dumbification, as can be expected.

A/N: this is way late bc i had to make sure the people who reblogged the moodboard were legal, thanks everyone for the patience and support! esp thank you @hangmanssunnies for being so encouraging, @sometimesanalice for being a gem and betaing thank you @laracrofted for coming up with bob's (ahem) inspirational reveal, and thank you everyone else for letting me be feral. there were a couple people who reblogged the moodboard but I couldn't tag them, so for the record, if you ask to be tagged, pls do make sure you're taggable AND ALSO THAT YOU HAVE YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO I AM NOT KIDDING. the title is from Jo Dee Messina's 90s country bop, "Do You Wanna Make Something Of It" -- okay enjoy!

You paused, halfway into your flight suit, looking down at your phone. 

It was probably a bad idea to open an audio erotica app forty minutes before you had to be in the debriefing room with the rest of the aviators in your unit. 

But. 

You were ovulating, your vibrator was charged, and you’d just gotten a notification that BullRiderRhett had posted a new audio.

Before you knew it, you were grabbing your headphones and folding your flight suit by the door, leaving your tank top and sports bra on, but shimmying out of your panties. You set an alarm on your phone, connected your headphones and opened the app. 

Quickie During the Rodeo

After my ride, I don’t have much time before they call up the winners…but you look so damn good in that sundress. We have to be quick, though. [M4F] [Short Audio] [Established Relationship] [In Public] [Strong Language] [Moaning] [SFX]

Yeah, you thought to yourself, that’d do. 

You slid into bed, pulling a muting blanket over the lower half of your body as you settled into your bed and clicked play. 

Immediately, the sounds of a rodeo pushed through your headphones. 

You heard the shuffle of hundreds of feet, a rowdy crowd cheering, and distant country music over a speaker. You could almost imagine the dusty air, the smell of fresh hay and sweat, and the clamor of barrel racing in another arena. 

There was a steady clanking of spurs as a pair of boots walked towards you. 

“There y’are,” a low voice said, the perfect combination of fond and gravelly. You heard a shuffle of fabric, and a soft inhale, like the cowboy was wrapping you in his arms. Your eyes fell closed so you could immerse yourself in the fantasy. 

“How’s my girl doin’?” he asked, his voice muffled like he had buried his head in your shoulder.

You never responded verbally to these things; it broke the illusion to speak to an empty room, but you liked that Rhett paused, as if waiting for your answer. 

“Ah, well, I always ride better when I know you’re in the stands, cheerin’ for me,” he said. He had such a fantastic voice, low and soft, with this drawl that was so unpretentious and alluring. His canvas jacket rustled like he was hugging you tighter. 

“Just let me hold you for a sec, yeah?” he asked, as the ambient sounds of the rodeo seeped back in. You found yourself just listening for the sound of Rhett’s breathing over it, a slow and steady rhythm that was deeply centering. 

You heard when his breath caught, followed by a shuffling sound and a choked gasp from the cowboy.  

“Whoa, whoa,” Rhett’s voice was warm with surprise and delight. “Cut that out, darlin’, we can’t, they’re gonna call me back–”

His voice broke off on a low moan that had you biting your lip. 

Why did guys in real life never moan? 

It was such a pretty sound, deep and masculine, and full of desire. It was one of your favorite things about Rhett. Your hand slipped under the blanket, rubbing over your pussy gently, getting yourself used to the pressure. 

“Darlin’,” Rhett’s voice had gotten deeper, like a warning. “Ya can’t tease me like that, ‘s not kind.”

Your hips shifted at that voice, and Rhett laughed, low. 

“Y’just can’t help yourself, can you, sweet girl?”

It was your favorite pet name he used, just the way he said it. You were obsessed with the gravel in his voice, the melodic twang coupled with a gentleness that belied all his ruggedness. It was like he was being quiet to make sure no one overheard him, like his words were for your ears only. 

His spurs clinked as the noise of the rodeo faded, as though he was leading you somewhere away from prying eyes. A second later, there was a gentle, wet sound, like he was kissing you. 

How would he taste, you wondered. Would his lips be soft? Or would they be chapped? Would he be ravenous, turned on from the adrenaline of the ride, or would he be slow, savoring your taste? 

You turned on your vibrator, on a low and warming setting. You traced it lightly over your pussy,  acclimatizing, as Rhett’s voice and the soft vibrations sent a heat under your skin. 

Rhett’s breathing was heavy, like being near you made him breathless.

“Shameless,” Rhett chided, amused and fond. “I know I can’t stop you, but I’m not about to let anyone see ya like this. You’re mine.” 

Your hips canted up into the vibrator, spurred on by the idea of being his. 

“Oh, you like that, huh, sweet girl?” Rhett practically purred, his voice like a caress, “You like being mine?”

Rhett’s words washing over you, and vibrator’s motions met less resistance as you felt yourself growing wet.

“What if I…” he asked, and you heard fabric shuffling, like he was reaching down and under your dress. “Fuck, darlin’, are you wet for me already?” 

You pressed your lips together to trap in a whimper. 

You knew it was formulaic, but that didn’t make you less turned on. In this fantasy, you were Rhett’s girlfriend, you were already wet for him, you were needy enough to risk being caught to have his dick inside of you. 

“Ya sure about this?” Rhett asked, and you could hear the intensity in his voice. Like he needed you too, just as desperately. “Yeah? Yeah, me too…fuck—yeah, feel me through my jeans. Feel how hard I am for you.”

You turned the vibrator up, imagining the rough texture of denim against your pussy. How hard Rhett would be, how good it would feel to rock up against the dirty fabric. Probably not the most hygienic, but he’d be so hot, even through his jeans, impossibly tempting.

“Go on, take me out,” Rhett directed, his voice a low whisper. 

He moaned in your ear as a belt buckle came undone, and your head fell back as you circled the vibrator over your clit. God, he sounded so good, he sounded unraveled. You imagined the weight of him in your hand, and you shifted your hips, wishing you could feel the heat of him. 

“Shit, okay. We hafta be quick,” Rhett panted. “I know, I know, turn around for me, darlin’. Brace yourself against the wall here…Christ, you look so good like this…ya ready for me?” 

You couldn’t help yourself; you slid a hand down your body, changing the angle of the vibrator so you could run a finger through your folds. 

Rhett held his breath, like it was too good, too much, and you waited.

Then came his strangled, relieved exhale, and you pushed a finger into yourself as you imagined him sliding into you. 

“That’s right, sweet girl,” Rhett praised, his voice breathless, awed. “Let me into that tight pussy, nice and easy...”

Your mouth fell open as you imagined him filling you. 

Would he be thick? Long? Maybe a slight curve to his cock? Cut or uncut? You licked your lips, your mind spinning with possibilities, your fingers a paltry imitation of the thing you wanted so badly. 

“Ah, that’s it, that’s it,” Rhett murmured, and you couldn’t help but add another finger. “Such a good girl, for me, aren’t ya?”

You wanted to be his good girl. 

Rhett was breathing hard, and the rhythm of it was perfect. You circled around your clit with the vibrator, and you were panting now too, your hips canting up as you fucked yourself on your fingers. You could imagine him driving into you, his hips thrusting his cock into you. It would be thick, you decided, broad and heavy. 

“Ah, you’re taking me so well,” Rhett grunted. “You were made to take this fat cock, weren’t you?” 

His breaths were coming faster, and you could hear him slamming his hips into yours. You could imagine his balls swinging, could imagine him driving into you to reach that spot your fingers just couldn’t brush against. 

“This pussy feels so good, darlin’,” Rhett whispered, “the way you’re clenchin’ around me…”

Your thighs fell farther apart as you tried to time your fingers’ thrusts to his cadence. He was grunting after each thrust, this beautiful soft sound of exertion and pleasure.

A faint cheer rose above the sounds of your panting; another event had concluded. 

“Shit, we hafta hurry, they’re gonna–” Rhett broke off, his hips snapping faster. “C’mere, let me play with that clit, let me feel you–fuck yeah, clench around me, just like that.” 

You turned the vibrator up, your fingers faltering inside of you at the increased vibration and his words. Rhett’s grunts were getting higher pitched, a delicate thread of need seeping into them and you were going to lose your mind; it was perfect. 

“Ah, such a good girl,” Rhett groaned. “God, I don’t deserve you, ya feel so good…are you close, darlin? Tell me you’re close, I need to feel you cumming on my cock, will ya do that for me?”

You were bucking into your hand, chasing a release that had come on so fast, so strong and you were so damn close, you just needed–

“There ya go,” Rhett breathed, his voice tight. “You feel–oh, sweet girl, don’t stop clenching me like that. Oh, you’re gonna make me cum with that tight pussy, fuck, are you gonna come with me, darlin’? Please come with me, please…”

You pumped your fingers in time with his pleas, Rhett’s voice growing hoarse as his hips sped up. You were so close, he sounded so good, you were almost there. 

“Feels so good…Ah, I’m coming, I’m there– ah, shit,” Rhett moaned, his voice choking, and you orgasmed along with him, collapsing back into the pillow. 

Your legs shook and you jerked the vibrator away from your sensitive clit, stroking gently over your pussy with your other hand and easing yourself down.Your body felt like it was humming and you turned the vibrator off, sated and pleasure drunk.  

Something about Rhett always had you timing it perfectly, feeling so in sync and so primed, and when he came, it was like your permission to. 

Rhett was groaning softly in your ear. 

“So beautiful, darlin’,” he whispered. “God, I’m so lucky, look at you…so damn beautiful…”

The audio would fade out in another few minutes and you fumbled for your phone to turn it off, and turn off the just-in-case alarm that you’d set. 

There was a bittersweet moment with audio erotica that didn’t exist in traditional porn– aftercare. Instead of just ending a scene, most creators seemed to enjoy winding down with their listeners, saying soft things, silly things, fond things. It straddled the line between soothing and demoralizing, and you couldn’t say you loved the contrast between the care in Rhett’s voice and the emptiness around you. 

An emptiness that was interrupted by a loud pounding on your door. 

“Hey, I can see your light under the door,” Bradley called from the hallway, “you better not still be asleep! If we’re late to Mav’s briefing you know he’s gonna have us doing laps around the tarmac.”

You stuck your tongue out at the ceiling on principle, grateful for the quiet of your vibrator and the distance between the door and your bed.

“Calm your tits, Rooster,” you yelled back, “I’m practically ready.”

“Damn better be,” you heard Bradley say, loud enough to be heard, soft enough to know he wasn’t actually pressed.

You gave yourself another ten seconds to revel in that perfect orgasm, and then swung your legs over the side of the bed. You cleaned yourself off quickly, dressed even quicker, and were out the door in no time. 

Some might even say, with a pep in your step. 

“Told you,” you muttered as you walked by Bradley’s row in the debriefing room, on time, and he huffed. 

You settled into your normal seat, waving good morning to Callie and lifting your chin at Mickey, who grinned back at you. Bob was in the seat next to yours, as you’d all agreed early on that WSOs had to stick together, and you bumped his shoulder with yours as you sat. 

The sweet man smiled, a hidden thing, and looked away quickly. 

Sometimes, you felt like you knew there was more to him than he let on. 

You’d seen him in action, seen him make split-second decisions that kept him and Phoenix in the air. You’d seen him crank out 200 pushups with Jake and Javy like it was nothing. But at the same time, he never seemed to hold your eye for longer than strictly necessary, seeming more comfortable to address the floor (unless someone pushed too hard, and he’d snap something so sassy it’d make you bite the inside of your mouth to keep from laughing). 

When you’d first met him, you’d thought he was cute, in an Old Hollywood leading man kind of way, soft muscles and deep eyes.

You’d wondered if maybe you made him nervous. You’d thought maybe there was interest in those ocean blue eyes, but time went on, and he remained sweet and polite and kind. He was the same to you as he was with everyone else, and you were led to the reality that he was just an incredibly decent person. 

Crushes came and went like water, especially in a group as gorgeous as the one you flew with, so you let him have his secrets. 

The lights clicked off as Maverick strode to the front of the room, already talking and clicking his way through some kind of demonstration. 

The hours in the room flew by.

By the time he finished, your head was spinning with a blur of parameters and calculations and mission expectations. You knew pilots felt the same way about your job as you did about theirs, but you were always grateful that at the end of briefings you only had to worry about systems and odds, not about flying a plane. As you were dismissed, everyone crowded to the center aisle, trying to get out and to the hangar as quickly as possible. Someone sneezed, or someone pushed someone; Harvard dropped his coffee.

It wasn’t full, and you were all in flight suits anyways, but you still startled when it fell, splashing over the row you were sitting in. Black coffee flew over seats and notebooks (thankfully no phones), and someone laughed as Harvard’s attempts to catch it just served to further empty the cup. Bob took the worst of it, on the end of your row.

"Ah, shit," Bob muttered, and you froze. 

It wasn't that Harvard's spilled coffee had ruined Bob's notes, and yours too. 

It wasn't that everyone in the briefing room was looking back at your row in surprise. 

It wasn't even that Bob had sworn, even though you'd never heard anything harsher than "gosh" from the WSO's lips. 

It was that that cuss, in that voice, in that same mumbled tone, had pushed you to orgasm four hours ago. 

“Alright, it’s just coffee,” Maverick called over the clamor. “We’re burning daylight, people, come on.” 

Harvard was apologizing profusely, someone was passing paper towels out, but you felt completely out of your body, in shock. 

Bob was BullRiderRhett.

The WSO who asked for ginger ale when everyone else did shots at the Hard Deck, who cleaned his glasses when he got nervous, who stayed up all night to help Payback’s kid put together a Lego Statue of Liberty last time he was in town …was the guy who had talked you through the last few months of orgasms. 

(Yes, you had an annual subscription).

(Yes, you deserved it). 

When you let yourself back into your room at the end of the night, it still felt surreal. 

In retrospect, you should’ve been a million times more dialed in– you’d had a $73 million machine under your hands, and the only thing on your mind all day had been this revelation.

How had you never noticed before?? 

Now that you were thinking of it, Bob did have that slight accent when he was tired, or when he was mad enough at something stupid Jake said…but what were you even supposed to do with this knowledge?

You moved through your skincare much the same way you’d moved through most of the day – on autopilot. 

A knock on your door startled you. 

“Now’s not the time, Bradshaw,” you called, automatically. 

“Uh,” called a too-familiar voice, “not Bradshaw.”

You winced at your reflection in the mirror, trying desperately to decide if you recognized Bob’s voice from countless drills or from your Favorites list. You crossed your arms across your chest, your sweatshirt dragging against the hem of your pajama shorts as you slouched over to the door. 

“Robert,” you announced, as you opened it, mentally smacking your palm against your forehead. You had literally never called him Robert; what was wrong with you??

Could’ve been worse, you mused. 

You could’ve said ‘Rhett’.

“Hey,” he said, and if he was thrown by the use of his full name, he didn’t show it. 

He looked the same. 

The same, but in the way that had made you catch your breath when you first met him, when you were relieved that he was so unassuming and kind, because if he’d been any kind of authoritative, it would’ve debilitated you. 

Tonight, he’d clearly showered after drills. 

His hair was freshly combed and still damp, darker than normal. A tendril fell in front of his glasses, leaving a small line of fog against the outer corner of one of the lenses. He was in a plain white tshirt and light sweatpants, and you made yourself stop from looking further because you were not about to objectify your friend just because you now knew that he could dirty talk with the best of them. 

And now you were thinking about that.

“Are you mad at me?” Bob asked, and it snapped you out of your spiral. 

He was frowning at the sill, his hands shoved in his pockets, and his chest tight. There was a purse in between his eyebrows, and you really could not understand him, because how could a man who was objectively gorgeous, subjectively sweet, be this adorable? He looked up and the moment your eyes met, you looked away. 

“No,” you said quickly, clearing your throat. “Of course not. Obviously.”

“I mean, not obviously,” Bob said, rubbing a sneaker against the carpet in the hallway. “You practically sprinted out of the briefing this morning, refused to speak to me over comms during drills, and you won’t look at me for more than two seconds, and that’s normally someone else’s line to me.”

It was a weak joke, but it was funny, and you could hear in his voice that he was trying to set you at ease, and that really only made you feel worse. 

So you stepped aside and held open the door, not really trusting yourself to say anything else. Bob looked nervous, and you wanted to tell him it was you, not him, but instead you waited in silence as he stepped into the room. 

You only had the light over the sink on, and the room was in soft shadows, but you thought it might be more weird if you turned on a light, like you were calling attention to it. You shut the door and Navy rooms didn’t really come with guest furniture, so you gestured to the foot of your bed, while you paced. 

“This is going to be awkward,” you warned him, glancing in his direction, and wishing you hadn’t. 

He was sitting on the foot of your bed, as directed, legs spread slightly and his elbows resting on his knees. You could see the muscles of his shoulders through the tshirt, and his eyes seemed especially bright, in the dim light from the room. 

“Okay,” Bob said easily, and you appreciated that he wasn’t rushing you. Maybe he was starting to understand that this was something you were working through, rather than something he had done.

You switched directions, walking the length of the room, and then the length again. 

You had to say it.

You’d just have to say it, and that would explain it, and then it would be out, and then you could figure out how to move forward. Bob was a problem solver, like you, and you were both smart enough to figure this out. You were also both adults. You could just say it. 

You stopped in front of him, and Bob sat up a little straighter, like he wanted to be sure he was being respectful to the weight of whatever you were saying. God, he was such a good person, why did you have to be such a creep. 

“Iknowaboutbullriderrhett,” you said in a rush, clasping your hands in front of you. The words seemed to echo around the room and you stared at Bob, waiting for him to react. 

He didn’t, not really.

He nodded, slowly, and you watched him process the day through the lens of your revelation. 

“So, you’re disappointed it’s me,” he said, like he was clarifying, and you shook your head.

“What?” you asked, confused, and Bob shrugged.

“Like if you were expecting a ranch hand from Wyoming, I get it, it’s weird that it’s just me.”

You blinked. “That…that’s beside the point; I feel guilty, like this is a weird invasion of privacy, and isn’t that what you should be asking, anyways, is if I’m going to tell anybody? I won’t, but–”

Bob shook his head, his expression still pretty guarded. “Whose opinion do you think matters to me more than yours?”

And how the hell were you supposed to respond to that?

“What?” you managed again. 

Bob looked at you.

It was maybe the longest uninterrupted eye contact you’d ever had, and you weren’t sure if it was because he initiated it, or if something was different. But it made you curious, it made you stop rambling, it made you be still, and let Bob look, because you liked how he was looking at you. 

He smiled, that familiar, bashful, expression, and it calmed you slightly. 

It wasn’t like there was a demon possessing your friend, it wasn’t a dark secret, it was just a part of him that he didn’t bring out at work. His smile reminded you that you knew him, that you trusted him. 

Then his head fell to the side, his eyebrows lowering behind his glasses, his expression turning inquisitive as he said, “You didn’t answer my question.”

It was still Bob. 

But his voice was lower, his voice was softer and you knew that voice, but seeing it fall from petal pink lips was a revelation and you shivered. You pulled the sleeves of your sweatshirt down over your palms, hoping you could disguise it, but Bob saw it anyway. 

Of course he did. 

He could calculate projectile trajectories while at supersonic speed; of course he could see when his voice made you shiver. The expression on his face turned smug, and that was new, that was nothing you’d seen before and you were pretty much infatuated with it immediately. 

Objectively, Bob was the best. 

You knew it, everyone knew it. This was maybe the first time you’d seen him look like he knew it, and something like pride blossomed in your chest at the thought that it was because of you. 

“I’m not disappointed,” you said honestly, and Bob smiled fully.

That was how he should always be, you decided, proud of himself, pleased by you. 

He pushed himself off the bed. 

He walked towards you slowly, slow enough that you could tell he was giving you time to back away, or tell him to stop, but you sure as shit weren’t going to do either. 

Instead, your head tilted back as he came to stop in front of you.

“We have two options,” he said, almost conversationally, like you weren’t this close to melting into a puddle at seeing this side of him. “One: I go back to my room; we’ve learned something new today, but we go on like normal. Or–”

“Or,” you chose, not waiting to hear what the second option was. “Whatever ‘or’ is, that’s the one I want.”

It truly didn’t matter; if the choice was him walking out the door or not, you wanted whatever made him stay. 

He huffed an exhale of a laugh, a soft sound that you’d heard a dozen times but it still made your breath catch. You’d grinned fondly when you heard it over comms, after Callie calmly roasted Jake, you’d shivered when you heard it in your headphones, but now that Bob was physically in front of you, you thought this was the best iteration of it. 

“What do you like?” he asked softly, and it felt like a loaded question. 

Like maybe he was asking which audios, or maybe the themes, or if him, in front of you, was enough. The room felt suspended, like someone had paused the film of your life and you could see everything outside of yourself. The heat in Bob’s eyes, the way his fingers, held loose at his side, twitched slightly, like he wanted to reach for you. The way your own breath caught, like you were careful not to break a spell, like you wanted it to never break. 

You kissed him. 

You probably could’ve been more graceful about it, but he was standing just there, and you needed to know, needed to feel him against you. You reached for his arms, your hands grasping above his elbows to pull him down and press yourself closer. 

He was so soft. 

The moment your lips brushed over him, you felt him bending, moving. His glasses bumped into your nose as he adjusted and then his hands were on your waist, spreading over your back and how had you never noticed how big his hands were? They felt huge, and his chest was strong and warm as he pulled you into him. 

You could smell his shampoo, something earthy and sweet, and it was intoxicating how pure it was. He didn’t feel pure. He felt hot, kissing you back with an urgency that stole your breath away. Bob kissed you with certainty, with earnestness, and you were obsessed.

You pulled back, staying in the cradle of his arms, needing to be this close when you answered the question he’d asked. Long lashes fluttered against the tops of his cheeks as you broke the kiss, and Bob pulled in a long breath through his nose. When he opened his eyes, the blue of them was so bright, cutting. You didn’t know how he held it all, his sharpness and softness, gentleness and intention. 

“Can I show you?” you asked. 

He blinked, the motion slow, as he looked between your eyes, trying to focus with you so close. You saw the corner of his mouth turn up in that bashful smile, and his arms around you tightened slightly.

“Show me,” he said, your question but now a command, and your mouth went dry. 

His voice sent a flush of heat over your skin, and whatever he wanted, you’d say yes, for this man who was your friend and your fantasy, and asking you so nicely. 

It amazed you how you didn’t feel nervous. 

This was arguably the most intimate situation you’d found yourself in in a hot minute, but instead of nerves or anxiety, you could only think of how much you wanted Bob to see how much he affected you. From that first moment you’d met him, to the crush you’d packed away, to the voice that haunted your dreams, you wanted him. And you wanted to see how that would affect him. 

You walked over to the sink, grabbing the vibrator from where you’d left it after you cleaned it this morning. Bob walked back over to the bed, taking up his original post at the foot of it, but his eyes never left you. He toed off his sneakers, and you slipped out of your pajama shorts, leaning over to arranging pillows against the headboard. 

You climbed into the bed and rested your back against the pillows, nudging Bob’s thigh with your toes before you bent your knees. He turned himself to face you, his long legs unfolding outside of yours. It was like he was being careful not to touch you, and you liked that this was how it was going to start– just his voice and your pleasure. You hoped once he saw what a tight string was tied between the two, maybe he’d get a little more involved. A part of you wished that you’d deepened the kiss earlier, but it was just as well to have the anticipation of it.  

It was ridiculous that you were already turned on. 

You’d had eight hours to come to terms with the fact that Bob was Rhett, but as he sat across from you, it was like his gaze was scorching you. His bright eyes ran over you hungrily, and you rolled your neck, enjoying being the object of his gaze. 

You’d been bold when you suggested it, but now the silence of the room seemed to stretch. You wondered if you should ask Bob to talk, or if that would be weird. Bob looked at you, his damp hair falling in front of his glasses again, and he brushed it aside absently. 

“Is this where you lay, when you listen to me?” he asked, his eyes tracing over the simple bed, the regulation bedding, the pillows you’d brought in to spruce it up. His voice was low, curious, and now that you were listening for it, you could hear the traces of a drawl, hanging on the edges of it.

You nodded, unable to look away from him, and his nose flared slightly at the confirmation.

“You’re so pretty,” he said, and it washed over you. It was such a simple compliment, but the truth of how he said it, like every fiber of his being meant it, warmed you. 

“God, thinking about you…” he trailed off, “just lying here, looking like this…getting off to my voice…do you touch yourself first? Pet that pussy before you use your toy?”

Your mouth actually fell open hearing Bob Floyd say ‘pussy’ so casually. 

And he said it sitting in your bed, his eyes on you, his voice dropping into a deep drawl and yeah, you were going to do whatever he asked. 

You shifted slightly, a hand falling between your thighs to press over your clothed cunt. You cupped yourself, loving the way Bob’s eyes followed your hand with rapt attention. The kiss, his words, his eyes…you weren’t wet yet, but you could feel your body warming, turning towards Bob. 

“Love that you take your time with your pussy, warm her up, slow. ‘s not a thing you have to rush, not when the building feels so good. And I bet you feel so good, don’t you, so soft and warm…”

It didn’t feel slow, not with how hot Bob’s voice was. How good it felt to have him in the room with you, not just an empty echoing in your ears but physically here. You continued to tease yourself over your panties and you felt when they grew damp, when your arousal slowed your fingers, made the fabric slick.

“Fuck,” Bob breathed, and you whimpered. 

The sound was involuntary, a reaction to seeing sweet, wholesome, Bob swearing over the sight of you. It made you feel regal, and if you had to guess, pulling sounds out of you made him feel the same. At the sound of your whimper, Bob’s eyes dropped to your mouth, and you watched the tip of his tongue push through his lips, as he wet them. 

“Ah, you sound so good, too, I can’t believe–” he broke off, laughing quietly. “Can’t believe I’m jealous of my own damn self. How many times have I made you cum, and I’ve never gotten to see it?”

It was your turn to laugh, not quite willing to reveal how much you listened to BullRiderRhett. 

“That many, huh?” Bob’s voice was smug, and it was such a good sound on him. You ground your wrist over your clit, pressing into the hard bone, craving the friction.

“Take your panties off,” he said, “touch yourself, not the vibrator yet.”

You followed his instruction, pulling up your legs to peel off your panties and resettling. You extended a leg down the bed, pressing inside of Bob’s long leg, as you trailed your hand between your thighs. At the first brush of skin against your sensitive folds, your head tipped back against the headboard. 

It was just your hand, but with Bob here, it felt like it was almost his. It was his bidding at least, and you explored yourself leisurely, dragging your fingers through your wetness.

“Yeah, that’s right, bet you feel so good,” Bob said, his voice so low. “Feel yourself, sweet girl, tell me how it feels.”

You gasped, your hips rising in a pavlovian response to the endearment. It was somehow even more overwhelming when it was Bob who spoke it over you, here, in the flesh. When he could see that your skin prickled, that your breath caught, in response to him. 

“Say it again,” you whispered, hoping he’d understand, and when you looked back at him, the expression on his face was one of adoration and hunger, awe and need. 

“Sweet girl?” he asked gently, but his eyes were so dark. “You like being that for me, don’t you? My sweet, sweet girl.”

You nodded weakly, your fingers suddenly not enough. You rubbed over your clit, trying to stop the truth from spilling out of you as heat fanned out through your body from your touch. 

“Yours,” you corrected weakly, and you scrambled for the vibrator and switched it on, using the intense humming of the toy as an excuse to hide from Bob’s reaction to your admission. 

You felt one of his hands wrap around your ankle, and his long thumb stroked from your heel up to the joint. It was the perfect touch, and just grounding enough to keep you from being overwhelmed by the vibrations. 

“You sound so pretty,” Bob murmured, “those little whimpers you make, fuck.”

Were you whimpering?

You felt like you noticed everything a bit too late, too loud. You realized you were pulling the vibrator over your cunt in a mimicry of the strumming motion Bob’s thumb was tracing on your ankle, and your hips canted up. Pleasure swirled in you, hot and tingling, but you felt something missing. 

“Bob,” you panted, god, how were you already panting, “I need–”

You turned the toy higher and broke off, writhing. 

“Darlin’, love you saying my name like this,” Bob drawled, and it was a proper drawl now, and how he said darlin’ made you feel like you might combust. “Can’t believe I get to see you like this, you look so good…knowing this isn’t your first time working yourself to my voice, makes me so damn jealous.”

You whined, pressing the vibrator more firmly against your skin, your hips starting to grind into it. 

“Tell me,” you asked, your voice reedy, and Bob huffed a laugh, like you didn’t even have to ask. He ran a hand over his thigh, coming to rest at the seat of his sweatpants and you bit your lip as he adjusted himself through the thin fabric. 

“So damn jealous,” he repeated, “thinking how many orgasms I’ve missed. How many times you came when I asked, how those thighs would tremble as you fucked yourself thinking of taking me…fuck, honey, you’ve heard me cum, and I’ve never–”

A moan pushed its way past your lips, as you realized that the groans and grunts and needy noises that you got off to weren’t incorporeal: they belonged to Bob. 

You looked down at the foot of the bed where Bob was watching you greedily. His eyes roamed over your spread legs, the twitches in your thighs, the slackness in your jaw, and you looked at him too. His pale skin was flushed, color in pink splotches high on his cheeks, and his lips were parted. His chest rose and fell as he drew in deep breaths, and when he shifted slightly, you moaned again. 

“Can you touch yourself?” you asked, almost shy, wanting to see him. You felt good, so insanely good, but the thing you’d always loved about the Rhett audios was how much pleasure it sounded like he was getting too. There was something so hot about knowing you were the root of someone else’s desire and pleasure, and you wanted so badly to be that for Bob. 

“You’re gonna have to wait just a little longer, sweet girl,” Bob said, but he ran a hand over the thigh of his sweatpants, adjusting himself again, and your hips bucked up of their own volition. You guessed he was wearing underwear under his sweatpants because you couldn’t see an outline, but the idea of his dick hanging that far down his thigh had your mouth watering. 

“Wanna see you,” you protested, hearing a sound like a pout in your voice and Bob’s hand on your ankle tightened. He looked at you hard, and you knew he was gambling, trying to decide if he wanted to play a card.

“I know, sweet girl,” he said, licking his lips, “but you have to earn my cock.”

Your eyes rolled back and your core clenched at those words. How many times had you heard Rhett tease you with that? But it was different now, because Bob was here. Because he was real, and his cock was real, and however many times you’d wondered about Rhett, your curiosity could be sated in Bob. 

When you lifted your head to look back at Bob, he was slackjawed, watching you writhe. You were practically humping the toy, chasing an orgasm that suddenly felt so much closer. The vibrator felt stronger than normal, or maybe you were more sensitive, but you felt your climax building, and your thighs started shaking. 

“I wanna see you,” you repeated, and it sounded pathetic, but it was true, you did. In a moment, this had switched from getting off in front of your friend to needing your friend’s dick, and you didn’t know how Bob knew it but he did. 

He readjusted his grip on your ankle and before you could react he pulled. 

You slid down the bed, your thighs parting around where he now kneeled; he braced himself over you, and you whined, needing his touch. He kissed you, his mouth wide and plundering, slanting his lips over yours. You moaned into his kiss, so different from the soft gentleness of your first embrace. This was Bob kissing you, and his tongue delved into your mouth and you opened for him. 

“I’m too greedy for that, sweet girl,” he whispered, his lips against yours. “I know if I get between these thighs I’m going to lose myself, and I want to see how much you want it. I wanna be here, fully here, the first time I get to see you cum.” 

He reached down, and you felt his hand trace over yours. You’d nearly dropped the vibrator when he pulled you down the bed, but now Bob tightened your grip, and guided it back to your cunt. You keened as the vibrator pushed between your folds, and Bob followed your lead, wanting to see how you fucked yourself for him. 

It was better with him. 

His strong hand bracketing yours, his other at the back of your neck, holding you steady. His hand was on yours but he brought his face close to yours again, and you drank in the reality that he was here, this close, holding you. His breath was hot against your skin, and his glasses were fogging up from how hard you were breathing. 

“So are you gonna let me see it, darlin’?” he asked against your skin, and that voice, coupled with his touch, nearly had you there. “You gonna come for me, let me see what it looks like when my sweet girl gets off with just my voice and the toy we’re using on her? You’re almost there, honey, I can see it, come for me come on now–”

He sounded so good. 

His voice was perfect and soothing and it felt like a dream but it wasn’t, it was real. He was holding you, feeling you, breathing the same air and working you. You’d never been so aware of your body and how it was tuned towards someone else. You cried out his name as you came, your back arching and your free hand fisting in Bob’s tshirt, reminding yourself he was there, he was there, he was there. 

You felt like you were floating. 

Pleasure coursed through your body and you could feel it pulsing in your fingertips, beating in your heart. You became slowly aware of the room around you. The air felt cold against your sweat-dampened skin, the hum of the refrigerator was the only noise other than your hard breathing. Bob was still over you, and he’d pulled the vibrator away from you, switching it off without really looking, running a soothing hand over your hip. The hand at the back of your neck was firm, holding you tightly so you could feel him. 

“How’re ya doing, sweet girl?” he asked softly, and you felt him press a kiss to your cheek. “Did that feel good?“

You hummed in agreement, words still beyond you. His voice was so gentle, but had a raspy edge, like he was thinking over the last several minutes, holding them in his mind.

“You did such a good job for me,” he murmured, and you turned into his touch.

He was like sunshine, wasn’t he? 

Just warm, and good, and you wanted to bask in him and his light like a dryad. His eyes darted away once he realized you were looking at him, and it made your heart skip a beat, that he could somehow be shy after coaxing you through one of the hottest orgasms of your life. 

You were trying to think of how to say “your turn” in a way that wasn’t corny or cringey, but what you came up with was, “Can we keep going?”

Bob’s eyes snapped back to yours, and the world seemed to pause for a moment, hovering. Waiting, hoping, and Bob’s chin dipped, just slightly, and all was right. 

“Baby,” he said, in the low, perfect, voice, “I’d like nothing more.”

When he kissed you, you were both smiling, somewhat giddy, and any nerves that had gathered during that pause dissipated, as you kissed his smile-thinned lips. 

You shifted slightly, pushing yourself back up the bed and pulling Bob with you. 

He moved easily, his long body spanning over yours, pressing you back into the mattress with the most delicious pressure. His hands were wandering, then, delicate fingers tracing over your sweatshirt, and when he lingered at the hem of it, you pushed him off. You didn’t want to be patient, didn’t want his chivalry, and so you pulled your sweatshirt over your head before you had time to second guess yourself. 

The way Bob looked at you, you wished you’d done it sooner. 

His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip as he stared at your chest and you pushed yourself off the bed by your shoulders, so you could reach behind you and undo your bra. The moment the garment fell off, Bob’s hands were on you, his wide palms cupping your breasts. Your eyes fluttered shut at his touch, humming in the back of your throat as his fingers explored you. You felt the bed shift as he moved, and you gasped when a warm breath ghosted over your bared skin. 

Bob kissed down from your sternum, wet kisses over you, and by the time he reached your nipples, he was practically lapping at your skin. You whimpered as his mouth closed over your nipples, his tongue swirling over you as his hand teased your other breast. When he hummed, you felt it all over, the soft vibration over your skin. 

“Bob,” you gasped, and he moaned. 

“Ya sound so pretty,” he whispered into your skin, “somehow better than I imagined.” 

Your breath caught as his mouth moved to the valley between your breasts, and he laved the same attention to the other. He couldn’t have meant that how it sounded. As incomprehensible that this was happening, it was wilder still to think that he had imagined this, as you had. 

“You thought of me?” you asked, your own voice sounding nearly breathless. 

“Honey,” teeth grazed over your nipple, and Bob chuckled, that beautiful low laugh. “Who do you think I’m talkin’ to when I make those audios?”

His lips closed over you again, but the swirling of his tongue wasn’t enough to distract from the words he’d just uttered. 

He wasn’t done, either. 

“Y’know how many nights I’d wondered about the taste of your skin,” he murmured into it, “or what your tits would feel like in my hands? What sounds you’d make when I kissed you, how soft you’d be, everywhere? If you’d cry, or moan, or laugh when you came, or how you’d say my name…” 

Your hand wound back into his hair and you pulled him back up to your mouth. This kiss was desperate, so much unsaid between the both of you. So much longing, so much wondering and now it was here. You couldn’t explore each other fast enough, and you were clawing at his clothing, trying to feel as much of his skin as possible. Bob was just as eager as you were, pulling off of you to shuck off his tshirt and sweatpants, and you reached for his glasses. 

He blinked at you slowly as you pulled them off of him.

This sweet man. 

He was so focused on you, his eyes so intent even as he struggled to focus, and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were. You leaned over to place them carefully on your nightstand, and when you came back to the bed, Bob’s arms settled around you in the most comforting embrace. 

You loved the feeling of his skin. 

He was so soft, pale skin covering deceptively strong muscles, and you were obsessed with the dichotomy. Your hands greedily traversed over his broad shoulders, thick biceps, taut stomach, and when you got to the hem of his boxers, you felt his breath catch as he shifted over you. 

Fuck. 

You’d thought it might’ve been a trick of the light, or a trick of sweatpants, some kind of trick, but under your hand, Bob felt hung. Your fingers rubbed over the bulge in his boxers, and Bob’s head dropped to your shoulders. 

“We don’t have to–” he started, and broke off when your touch reached the end of him. You were just tracing the shape of him, but your breath caught when you felt his fat head, the cleft at his tip, even through the thin fabric. 

“We do,” you said, swallowing quickly, not even trying to hide the way your thoughts were racing, “I really hope you have a condom, Floyd, because we really, really have to.”

He huffed, and then he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, pushing himself off you and reaching down to feel around the ground for his sweatpants. You loved that he had a condom on him – not because it meant that he was expecting this, but because it just confirmed for you that Bob was the type to look at birth control as shared responsibility, not just a matter of whether a gal took the pill or felt like risking going without. He fumbled for a moment, and you couldn’t help yourself. 

While he was distracted (admittedly, this was probably a task you could have thought of while he still had his glasses on) you leaned over and traced your tongue over his collarbone. He smelled so good, and you could just taste the salt of his sweat. Bob’s breath grew ragged, and you loved the sound of it, kissing up his neck and finding that tempting spot where you could feel his pulse. You loved how frantic it was, loved the steadiness of him. 

He found the condom.

You shifted back to your elbow, watching with blatant interest as he shoved his boxers down his thighs, tore the wrapper open and rolled the condom onto his dick. 

Holy. Shit. 

He looked like a work of art. 

A beautiful flush had worked its way across his chest and throat, the tendons on his arms and hands stood out in stark contrast, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his cock. He really was that big. 

“What is it?” he asked quietly, and your eyes darted back up to his face to find his brows furrowing slightly, since he couldn’t read your silence or your expression.

You pushed yourself up to kneeling on the edge of the bed, Bob still standing beside it, and reached for him. He stepped into your embrace easily, mollified by the shared warmth between your bodies, as you reassured him with soft kisses wherever you could reach.

“I thought it was a line,” you admitted, somewhat embarrassed at how wantonly you’d just been staring at him. “Just a cliche ‘oh, you want to choke on this big dick’, but…but you’re actually, you know…”

Bob smiled, somehow bashful, as you pitched your voice lower in an approximation of Rhett’s drawl. 

“Is that an offer?” he asked, and oh you liked this side of him– teasing, relaxed, a little cocky. 

And the thought of choking on him…it was a really great fantasy. He’d hurt your jaw something fierce, but you wanted to see if you could draw those breathy whimpers out of him. Figure out what your tongue could do to him, see how much he could take, push him a little further, and make him cum down your throat. 

“Honestly,” you said, and yeah, your throat was dry just from the thought of it, “I really want to try that, sometime.”

At your tone or your words, you couldn’t be sure, Bob’s hips pushed forward slightly. With the height difference of you kneeling and him standing, his cock brushed against your ribs. You were both suddenly so aware of him, his thick cock resting between you, and Bob’s hips pushed forward again. 

“You’re so soft,” he murmured, and his hips slid back, slowly. His hands were on your waist, holding you still as he ground against you. Your mouth fell open at the heavy motion, the promise of it, and the duration of it. 

“You’re so big,” you whispered, another truth that should’ve sounded like a cliche, but instead was just a fact. 

“You’ll fit me,” Bob said, with such confidence and certainty that suddenly you didn’t care if it was in your mouth or between your legs, you needed him in you. 

“Please,” you asked, and Bob groaned, actually groaned, like you asking was the best thing he’d ever heard. His hands were so tight on your waist, like he needed that control and you knew how you wanted him. 

You leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips, and then turned back to the bed, your hand sliding up towards the headboard, your ass lifting like an invitation. Bob wasted no time, climbing back over the bed and shifting you so you were lengthwise on the bed again, and then draping his long body over yours. Your head rolled between your shoulders; he felt so good. Warm and strong, and all around you, and then you felt his big hand between your thighs. He opened your thighs gently, and then a thick finger traced between them. 

“So wet,” he murmured, so close to your ear, and you shivered. “You’re gonna feel so good around me, aren’t you?”

You nodded, words failing you in your anticipation. But Bob wasn’t in a rush. His calloused finger teased through your folds, smearing the remnants of your orgasm up over your clit, playing with your cunt, until you were shaking. 

You whimpered, your arms trembling as you braced yourself on the bed. You pushed your hips back into his touch, and you felt Bob’s breath shutter from his chest pressed to your back, but he didn’t move any faster. 

“Don’t rush me, honey,” Bob said, his voice low, and you tried to hold still, you did, but his teasing was too much. 

He alternated between spreading your folds, circling your clit, dipping his finger into you just enough to tease you, then pulling back entirely. You felt like you were aching, desperate for him, needing him. Bob spread you open with one hand, and you felt his thick head at your entrance, seeking. You saw the hand that wasn’t playing with your clit drop down to the bed beside yours as he braced himself, and you pushed your hips back, weakly. 

“Ask me nicely, sweet girl,” he said, his voice so low, and you swear you nearly came on the spot. 

“Please,” you managed, your voice sounding entirely too weak, “please, please, I need to feel you–”

You broke off when he pushed into you. 

A steady, overwhelming pressure as that beautiful, enormous cock pushed into you. Your back arched and you gripped the sheets as he stretched you out, the gentle, even pressure nearly blinding. He was so thick, you felt like you could feel his heartbeat, like you’d been lit on fire, and the only thing you knew you needed was more, more. 

Your head dropped to the sheets, even as your hips worked weakly back into his, welcoming him despite the burn. 

Bob’s hand covered yours, his thick fingers tangling with yours on the bedsheets, and you felt cherished, you felt wrecked, you felt perfect. 

Fuck, he felt so good. 

You were full to the point of overwhelmed, and you realized he’d stopped pushing, was fully seated inside you. You felt so connected, so whole, even though you were heaving like you’d run a marathon. 

Bob‘s nose traced your cheek, his soft lips kissed your jaw as his breath tickled your ear. “Does that feel good, darlin?” he asked. 

You nodded, wordless, it felt like a dream come true. You felt every inch of him in you, every inch of him over you, and it was perfect.  

“So,” Bob whispered, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear, “what do you say?”

“Thank you,” you moaned, you’d never been so grateful for anything in your life. “Feels so good, fuck, thank you–”

Bob groaned, and his hips pulled back before he slammed back into you. His thrust would’ve pushed you up the bed, except for his body over yours, holding you steady.  

“Sweet girl, it’s like you don’t want this to last long,” he said, almost angry, and the sound of his voice had your eyes rolling back in your head. He sounded so good, he felt so good, he was so perfect, you were so full… “Like you’re trying to drive me mad with this tight cunt, with those sweet little whimpers, you feel so good, baby.”

You couldn’t do anything. 

You were a molten mess of heat and driving need, your body aching and craving and sated by the thick cock pressing inside of you. Bob was thrusting so deep into you, his fat cock head prodding against a spot you distantly registered wasn’t made up, but might’ve been, for how perfectly he was hitting it. You weren’t aware if you were making sounds or just lying there, all you knew was how fucking good he felt in you, how you needed him to never stop. 

“Feel so full,” you gasped, and Bob pushed into you again.  

“Damn right,” Bob muttered, his voice dark, “full of my dick, like you’re fucking meant to be. Gorgeous girl, bent over, taking my cock like you need it.”

You whimpered, clenching around him. “I do, I do,” you babbled, “need you.”

Bob moaned, and it might’ve been the prettiest sound you’d ever heard. How was he real? How could he be this good, this kind, this fucking hot??

The sounds in the room were dizzying. 

Bob’s hips slapping into your ass, the squelching sounds where you were joined, your gasps and his breathy grunts. It was perfect, and you felt the heat around you condensing in your core. 

He knew, somehow. 

The fingers that had been spreading you for his cock, moved to the top of your cunt, teasing over your clit. Your legs jerked, your mouth dropping open as Bob circled your clit, his fingers tracing over it, gently pinching it and coaxing you higher. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you panted, heat and need rising. 

“Christ, please,” Bob said, his voice so earnest, so dear, as you pushed back into him. “Let me feel it, sweet girl, let me feel this pussy I’ve been dreaming about. Want to feel you milking my cock, so damn good, you can do it, come on…” 

He pumped into you once, twice, and you shattered. Your legs gave out, shaking, and then Bob’s hands were on your waist again, holding you up. You moaned his name, trembling and lost, and he held you, ever steady. He kept working into you, his thick cock pressing into you, like he was the only thing tethering you to this pane, and you felt drunk off of him. 

“There it was, that was beautiful…fuck, you’re so hot, that feels so damn good. You sounded so gorgeous, sweet girl, you did so well…”

You moaned as his words coaxed you back. 

He was still pumping into you, that steady, punishing pace and you were so sensitive but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He felt so strong, so hot, so close to you and you needed it. Needed him. His thick arms cording around you, his strong grip digging into your hips, his fat cock stuffing you, you never wanted it to stop. 

“You’re so good,” you whispered, needing him to know. Not just how he felt, or how he sounded, but who he was. How he was, and how much he meant. 

Bob’s hips stuttered.

You were aching, you were spent, but you tightened your core and clenched around him. 

“Baby,” he groaned, “I’m close you can’t–”

You rolled your hips. 

Bob grunted, and then he was moving, faster than lightning. He swept your hands out, pushing you down by your shoulders into the mattress, his body draping over yours. You turned your head to the side, and like he knew, he was there, kissing you. 

It was sloppy, it was messy, but your lips and tongue tangled together, like you both needed the sweetness of a kiss to balance the savage way Bob’s hips were fucking into you. 

Each press of his hips ground your pussy into the mattress and the pressure was so fucking unreal. You moaned into him, and Bob seemed drunk off the sound, off of you. You were so overstimulated, so out of your body that pleasure was the only thing that made sense. Only the way his hips rubbed your clit into the mattress, only the way his cock was stroking into the deep part of you, only the way he was panting against your lips. 

“You’re everything,” Bob whispered, just a breath away. “So much better, so much – fuck, you feel too good. Will you come for me again, sweet girl? I want to feel it so bad, need another one from you, can you do that for me?”

You shook your head, wrung out, but you felt it building anyways. Fuck, how was that possible? But Bob’s thrusts, the pressure on your clit, the weight of his warm body, the need in his eyes, it was driving you higher. 

And then. 

And then he got close. 

He broke off from the kiss, his thrusts growing almost frantic. Each breath he drew ended on a gasp, a soft whine that reached deep into your gut and set off something primal. He was fucking into you but he was whimpering, and you knew he needed it, needed you, like he said. He moaned, a needy, beautiful sound, and before you could feel his orgasm, yours broke over you. 

You collapsed into the mattress, Bob covering you, and you distantly heard him getting louder as your thighs shook. He sounded so pretty, those sweet moans and the desperate gasps driving you mad. The world was just molten heat, desperate thrusts, echoes of whimpers and you faded into the vacuity of it. 

When you came back, you were on your side. 

You were drenched in sweat, you both were, and a sheet was covering you from the cool room. Bob had taken off the condom, you noticed absently, and had pulled your sheet up over both of you, tucking you into his chest. His arms were warm around you, and when you exhaled, you watched the blond hairs on his forearms blow back and forth.  

“How’re you doing?” Bob asked softly, and you could weep. It was him, so familiar, so gentle, and so much better than any recording, any fantasy, anything. Your arm swung halfheartedly in his direction. 

“You jerk,” you sighed, “you’ve ruined my subscription.” Bob chuckled, the bed shaking with his deep laugh. “Think you can content yourself with the real thing?”

You shifted, turning to face him. In the dim light of the room, he somehow still managed to look like an angel. His soft eyes were unfocused, his mussed hair was snarled from your fingers, and he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. 

You leaned over to kiss him, Bob’s lips already thinning on a smile. “I think I can manage,” you said.

//

tagging: @withahappyrefrain @cheekymcgrath @mxgyver @lewmagoo @sebsxphia @callsign-fangirl @callsignspark @sometimesanalice @daggerspare-standingby @rhettabbotts @teacupsandtopgun @attapullman @yuckosworld @skteaiy @yanna-banana @briseisgone @gigisimsonmars @milesmillergf @katiedid-3 @hangmandruigandmav @3tabbiesandalab @marchingicenotes7 @callsignmedusa @ryebecca @tgmavericklover @cottagecori @becks-things @sorchathered @mulletmcghee @straightforwardly @high-speed-r @rcmupout @purelyfiction @fairyheart @sunsetsimpsblog @angelbabyyy99 @cremebruleequeen @marvel-djarin @sgt-barnesveins @supernaturaldawning @echo-ethe @sunlitide @alilstressyandlotdepressy @hughesvolpe @aczhang777 @saltsicklover

chances are high i'll do a part 2/followup with both of them recording an 'overheard' audio...let me know! comments and reblogs are the surest way to make that happen 💙

[luvyeni]

SAY CHEESE ,, 나재민

pairings ‎⸝⸝⸝ model!jaemin x fem!reader wc. 2.5k+

genre. smut

𓄷 includes ... fingering, unprotected sex, corruption kink, praise kink

「 authors note 𖹭 」 i needed a soft one , been doing cheating and yandere fics all week.

❪ masterlist! ❫

“i don't know chaewon,” you hear your roommate's footsteps padding behind you as you make your way into your bedroom— she was right on your hip as tried to close the door, pushing it open as you sat on your bed. “this is your assignment, and i don't feel comfortable doing it for you.”

your roommate whines sitting down on your bed as well. “please yn, i can't miss this internship it will be career changing, and you're the only person i know who can take photos as well as i do, maybe even better , and i know you wont try and fuck him cause you havent fucked anyone in your life.” she said, you scoffed. “why can't you text the guy and tell him you have another shoot?” you asked. “because this model is already hard to get and if i don't get this shoot im gonna fail my class.” she explained. “you passed this class last semester so you understand how much of a hard ass this teacher is.” she said.

“please yn,” she begged, “i will buy groceries for next month if you do this for me,” you thought about it, it was a good deal. “fine.” your friend smiled, clapping in excitement. “thank you, thank you so much.” she said hugging you. “okay, okay let me go.” you pulled away. “it's a two day shoot, he has his own hair and makeup team so all you have to do is show up and take pretty pictures of the pretty man.” she said. “who is this mysterious model who is so hard to get?”

“na jaemin.” she said, you knew the name; he was new to the modeling scene, but he was quickly growing, establishing himself in the cut throat industry. “how’d you manage to get him, i thought he was like london for a fashion show?” you asked. “what business does he have with a mediocre college student photoshoot?” your best friend scoffed. “ignoring the mediocre part, you know donghyuck?” you nodded, he had a crush on your roommate and was very open about it. “well he apparently knows jaemin, and he set this up for me , in exchange for a date.” you nodded. “using your assets, good for you.”

“yeah, and i didn't know this would be the only days he'd be free, and i didn't catch it until i checked my schedule.” she said standing up. “i'll text him and let him know, thank you so much.” you nodded. “Whatever, don't complain next month when it's time to shop for food.” she smiled sheepishly. “i won't promise.” she said. “now get out, i have to work on this essay that's due in like 4 hours.”

the next day was the day of the shoot, luckily you didn't have class so it wasn't a big inconvenience— the night before you made sure all your cameras were charged and working properly, thankfully they were and you were ready to go. “here's the address, you might want to get there earlier than he does so you can be ready , he's pretty busy and we don't know how long he has on his schedule.” your friend came back into your room , to which you agreed.

you got to the destination of the shoot a few hours before the shoot, cleaning up the place a bit; setting up the background and decorations. you brought a few snacks and drinks for him and his staff, also setting those out for the taking. you sent your roommate a quick message wishing her good luck with her internship, the door to the place opening. “hello?”

you looked up from your phone; he came in smiling, his team following behind him , he had this aura to him, he definitely was a model, he was attractive— very attractive, it made you kind of speechless. “h-hi.” you said, letting them come in. “you guys can set up over there.”

you finished up your texting, deciding to make yourself known for real. “hi im yn.” you watched him lift his eyebrow in confusion. “yn?” he asked. “what happened to chaewon? hyuck told me this was for her class.” chaewon didn't text him— you were gonna kill her. “it is, she had a internship today and she couldn't miss it, she also couldn't miss this shoot because then she'd fail this class and she didn't want to do that so she sent me.” jaemin watched you nervously fiddle with your finger as you explained yourself, smiling to himself. “is that okay? i can show you some of my work if it makes you comfortable.”

“no baby doll don't worry,” his words made you freeze up. “hyuck said chaewon was nice girl, so im sure she surrounds herself with other nice girls.” his eyes scanned up your body, making your cheeks heat up as he made eye contact with yours. “you seem like a nice girl.” you nodded, still flustered. “o-okay, i'm gonna go finish setting up, you guys can finish getting him ready, i brought snacks in case any of you get hungry they're over there so.” you quickly ran over to your camera. “she's cute.” his stylist said. “so adorable.” his makeup artist said, he smiled, pulling out his phone.

jaemin. your girl didn't show up, her roommate did.

hyuck. ik she text me , and told me, yn is a good girl though, she's also a photographer.

jaemin. single?

hyuck. definitely, she doesn't even come out much. why you like?

jaemin. very much.

hyuck. go for it then 😉

he watched you adjust the camera, muttering something to yourself, his stylist handed him his outfit to get changed into, he took the clothes into his hand, making his way over to you. he stood behind you, waiting for you to take notice of him. “we can get started when—” you turned around to where the boy was already standing there, extremely close, close enough where you could smell his cologne. “I have to change into my clothes.” he said. “chaewon gave me a dress code.” you nodded. “of course she did.” you looked around the studio. “there's no bathrooms in here , and i don't have the key to the one outside.”

“don't stress baby doll,” there was that nickname again, “i’ve had to change in public before, nothing knew.” he walked away leaving you confused, until you seen his arms lifting up and off his shirt went; your hands coming up to cover your eyes. “you-you're gonna get dressed here.” he laughed at you. “it's not like there's anywhere else,” he said, tilting his head to the side. “you act like you've never seen a naked man before.” you hadn't , but he didn't know that. “ju-just quickly get changed.” you fanned your heated face , he smiled.

jaemin knew you probably hadn't, he just wanted to see your reaction and he was thoroughly amused at what he was seeing. “get dressed and leave the poor girl alone.” his stylist said, slapping the back of his head. he finished changing his clothes, just as you were turning around. “great we can finally get started.”

the shoot went good, you took a bunch; a few you knew chaewon would like and a few you liked, you probably took over 100 photos of the boy; not that you were complaining, you got to stare at this gorgeous man and not look like a weirdo. “how do they look?” jaemin asked. “would you like to see?” he nodded, coming behind the camera; you showed him your laptop screen. “see?”

“you're really talented?” he watched you try and hide a smile at his praise. “you can smile baby doll, it was a compliment,” he said. “th-thank you.” you said with your head down. “which ones do you like?” he asked. “huh?” you said confused. “oh-oh well this is chaewons project so i just did what I know she likes.” he hummed, “yeah i know it's chaewons, but if it was your project, what would you choose?” you didn't realize how close he was until you could feel his breathing on your neck.

“um.” you clicked through the photos. “th-these three.” you pointed out. “oh someone likes my upper body i see?” he laughed as you turned around wide eyed, stuttering out an explanation. “don't worry i don't mind it all, i got into this business to be stared at and admired by pretty and sweet girls like you.” he said. “tell chaewon she should use these, her roommate has good taste.”

the rest of the shoot went by in a blur, soon you were cleaning up and jaemin was changing back into his comfortable clothes. “we'll go get the car ready.” he nodded, his small staff leaving the studio, leaving you and him alone; just what he wanted, he watched you talk on the phone. “i should be home soon, don't worry, yeah , no i'm not saying it, fine i love you too, bye.” you hung up. “boyfriend?” he asked, knowing the answer already. “oh no, that was chaewon.” you chuckled.

“so a pretty little thing like you don't have a boyfriend?” you shyly nodded, “like ever?” you were embarrassed. “no it's okay baby doll i'm just a bit shocked.” he said. “it's you're so pretty, I never would have imagined you were single.” he said , coming closer making you nervously turn around , but you could still get hear him getting closer until he was caging you against the table. “ja-jaemin.”

“come on pretty, let me make you feel good.” he pressed up against you. “turn around for me.” he whispered in your ear, smiling when obediently did. “good girl, you listen well.” you eyes were wide. “your staff.” he smirked. “trust, they know, don't worry about that.” his hand came up to your thigh, making its way up your skirt. “i-i’ve never done this before.” you felt his hand close to your clothed cunt. “i know pretty just relax.” you felt his hand on your mound, making you close your legs around his arms. “no.” he smiled. “you gotta keep them open if you want me to make you feel good.”

you slowly opened your legs allowing him to move again. “good girl.” he thumbed on your clit, you let out a whimper, biting your lip to cover it up. “let me hear all those pretty noises.” he pulled your panties to the side. “i'm gonna put a finger inside you, okay?” you nodded, his slowly ran his finger up your slit, before pushing his finger in. “ja-jaemin.” you moaned. “feel good?” he moved his finger in and out. “you're so wet, this pretty pussy never been played with, you're dripping all over my hand.”

you were a mess, your face was so fucked out from one finger it made him hard as a rock. “m’gonna add another one okay?” you nodded, he lifted your leg higher holding it as he added another finger. “good girl , taking two of my fingers.” he praised, you really like that, your cunt tightening around his digits. “you liked that? me praising you?” you nodded. “answer me baby doll , you like when i praise you?”

“y-yes i do.” you felt a sensation bubbling in your stomach. “ja-jaemin i feel.” you couldn't stop it from coming, your legs closing around his hand once again, as your orgasm washed over you.

jaemins eyes lit up light a child's on christmas morning as he watched you orgasm, your juices covering his finger. “there you go, cumming all over my hand.” he cursed, feeling his cock begging to be freed from his sweats. “good girl, let it all for me, fuck im so hard right now” he groaned, pressing his lip to the side of your head. “you want me to fuck you? stretch your little pussy out?”

you moaned, nodding. “pl-please.” you weren't really waiting for “the perfect guy” but right about now, you were really worked up and the way you could feel jaemins grinding his clothed cock against you— he was the perfect guy.

he lifted you on to the counter. “sh-shit.” he pulled his pants down enough to pull his cock out, hissing, the air hitting his leaky tip. “so fucking hard for you doll, ready for me?” you bit your lip as he lined his cock up to your entrance. “fuck.” he groaned as he slowly worked himself inside you. “jaemin.” you moaned, he held your hips down. “fuck don't move baby, let me do it.” he fully seethed himself inside you. “fuck, you're so tight.”

he slowly moved; your cunt barely letting him out, he was in heaven— and so were you, hold his bicep , your head thrown back as he fucked you, you never felt this sensation before, but you loved it. “please, faster.” you moaned , he smirked, speeding up. “you want more?” he groaned, his hips now slapping against yours with much force. “fuck baby doll i'll give you more.”

you could feel the counter below you shaking as he fucked into you vigorously. “that's it, take nana fat cock inside you.” he groaned, slowly losing himself. “fuck you're little pussy is so good.” he cursed. “fuck i'm gonna cum.” he moaned. “you going cum for me?” he toyed with your clit. “be a good girl and cum for me.”

and with his words and him fucking into you deeply, kissing your cervix you soon cumming hard, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your cunt tightened around him, his cursed as he came inside you. “oh fuck yn.” he sighed, his head dropping as he came, you could feel him every inch of him twitching inside you you as he covered your inside in white. “oh fuck.”

he slowly pulled out, smirking as you whimpered. “so sensitive baby.” he said, his cum leaking from your hole. “that felt good baby.” he kissed your neck. “so good if my staff weren't waiting for me, i would stuff my cock back into your pretty pussy.” smiling as you whined. “there's always tomorrow.” he said, pulling away, finally letting you get dressed.

“will you be back tomorrow?” he asked. “yeah, chaewon has another day at her internship.” he helped you pack up all your cameras. “good.” he handed you the bag. “i’ll come without my staff,” you yelped as he pulled you close. “why?”

“because after you take all the pictures you need , i don't need any distractions when i teach you to take my cock in that pretty mouth.”

©LUVYENI