#like the expectations and responsibilities

[localapparently]

Doksoo week 2024 day 5: time travel

Prompt list here

[foxy-eva]

Send Nudes

Summary: Chaos ensues after you accidentally send Spencer a nude pic

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) dub-con (Spencer receives an unsolicited nude pic), embarrassment, awkwardness, tension, heavy kissing, male masturbation, oral (fem receiving), handjob, protected penetrative sex

Author's Note: I wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins Wrong Recipient Challenge!

Word count: 3.2k

Masterlist

Panic. Embarrassment. Shame. 

It was hard to describe what you felt when you stared at your phone, realizing that you had just sent Spencer Reid a nude picture of yourself. 

It was a mistake, of course – right when you wanted to send him a screenshot of an article, you stumbled over the mess in your apartment and selected the wrong picture. Frozen in place, you watched in horror as the read receipt showed up instantly. 

Spencer had just seen your naked body light up on the screen of his phone. 

A picture he never asked for and probably didn't want to see. It wasn’t a bad photo, some might even call it aesthetically pleasing. But you had never intended for anyone else to see it. It was just a way for you to make yourself feel good about your body. 

You contemplated your options. Burning your phone, moving across the country and changing your identity sounded intriguing but difficult to arrange. Instead you decided to text Spencer, hoping that soon you’d both be able to laugh about the embarrassing thing you just did. 

“I am so sorry about that. I really didn't mean to send that! Can you please delete the pic and forget about it?” 

You didn't get a response. Spencer was never great at texting but you had really hoped to hear back from him. It was hard to tell if he felt just as embarrassed or maybe even offended – you certainly wouldn't want to receive unsolicited nude pics either. 

You had barely gotten any sleep when you walked into work the next morning. Worst case scenarios had plagued your mind all night – from another painful workplace sexual harassment seminar to maybe even losing your job over your mishap – you had no idea what would expect you today. 

Everything seemed normal when you got to your desk, except for the fact that your favorite coworker didn't even look at you when you walked by him. Spencer usually liked sitting beside you in the conference room and also on the jet, but he did neither of those things that day. 

“Wow you really must have pissed Reid off, huh?” Luke whispered when he sat down beside you on the plane. 

“Did he say anything to you?” you wanted to know. 

“No, he didn't. What did you do? Spill coffee over his favorite chess board?” he teased. 

“Oh it’s so much worse than that,” you whined while heat rushed to your face. 

Emily decided to discuss the case before Luke could ask more questions. Spencer avoided you for the next couple of hours until you decided you both had suffered enough. 

A quiet moment in the coffee kitchen of the police precinct seemed good enough to approach him.

“Hey Spencer,” you said and noticed how he almost jumped at the sound of your voice. 

“H…hi,” he mumbled, his eyes fixated on the floor.

Stepping closer, he finally looked at you for the first time that day. The rosy shade spreading over his cheeks was impossible to ignore. 

“I’m very sorry about the… you know. I didn't mean to send it but I understand if you feel offended by it,” you sincerely told him. 

“I’m not… offended.”

You took a deep breath before you continued talking, “All I want to say is… if you want to discuss this incident with Emily or even HR, I would understand. I never wanted to make you uncomfortable in any way.” 

“No, it’s okay, really,” he lied. “We can just forget about it.” 

Spencer Reid was good at many things. Lying, however, definitely wasn’t his strong suit. You decided to drop the subject for now, aware that talking more about it would probably not make him less uncomfortable. 

The tension between you two was palpable for the rest of the workday. When you stepped into your hotel room that night, you were relieved to finally have a couple of walls between the two of you. 

If this thing didn't resolve soon, you’d have to talk to Emily about it eventually. But there was still hope that it wouldn't come to that. The embarrassment about your mishap was already bad enough as is.

The three knocks on your hotel door startled you. With your heart beating uncomfortably fast, you walked over to the door to find Spencer on the other side. 

He walked into your room without saying a word. Then he began slowly pacing up and down your room, still silent. He looked at you for a second but his sight fell to the floor immediately after that. 

“I uh…” he began before taking a deep breath. “I lied to you earlier.”

“About what?” you wanted to clarify. “Wanting to go to HR?” 

He shook his head. “I said that we can just forget about it but I don’t think I can do that.” 

Your heart felt heavy at his words. His discomfort pained you and you wished nothing more than to be able to take it back. “I’m so sorry Spencer.”

“I deleted the image off my phone but…” he paused to finally look at you. The expression written over his face was hard to read. What you didn't find was the discomfort you expected. Instead he looked… cocky?

He continued, “...it seems like it’s burned into my brain. And I can’t help but wonder, was it really an accident?”

“What?! Of course!” you squeaked. “Believe me, I would never want to send you a picture like that unprompted.”

That was when you saw a subtle smirk on his face. “Interesting choice of words.” 

You thought about it for a moment. Had you really just implied that you would want to send him nudes if he’d ask you to? 

“That's not what I meant,” you tried to brush it off. “And please don’t give me a lecture about Freudian slips.”

His presence filled the room and you felt like you couldn't take deep enough breaths to satiate your need for oxygen. His demeanor was so different from what you were used to and you had trouble wrapping your head around it.

His next question was even more surprising. “Who did you take this picture for?” 

The undertone in his voice was unsettling and you started feeling defensive. “I don’t see how that's any of your business but just for the record, I took it for myself. I do that occasionally to make myself feel good about my body.” 

It seemed as if he was content, almost relieved with your answer. You scanned his body language again and replayed his words in your head. Then it hit you all at once. Spencer was not here to scold you for what you did. 

He was jealous. And he wanted to make sure no one else got to see your picture. 

A grin formed on your face as you realized that you could play this game too.

Your tone was laced with a certain playfulness when you asked, “What did you do after you saw the picture?”

The change of your demeanor seemed to take Spencer by surprise. “I just told you, I deleted it.” 

“I don't think that's all you did.” He audibly gulped and you noticed his cheeks taking on a reddish color. Stepping closer to him, you whispered, “Did you touch yourself, Spencer?”

A shaky breath left his mouth before he confessed, “Yes.”

“Naughty boy,” You teased him. “You really liked that image, hm?” 

Nodding, he took a step forward until there was barely any space between the two of you. “I can't stop thinking about you.”

His words boosted your confidence. “I know I look great in that pic. But I think I would look even better in this lighting right here, don’t you think?” 

Before you could bring to action what you had insinuated, you felt Spencer's hands cupping your face to pull you into a kiss. The surprised gasp escaping your throat was muffled by his lips against yours. 

He kissed you with a fervor that knocked the air out of your lungs. Weakness rushed to your knees and you had to hold onto him to not tumble back. One hand pawed at his shirt while the other one held onto his shoulder. His lips felt soft yet firm against yours. 

When his tongue begged for entrance, you let it. As he deepened the kiss, you could feel heat rushing through body. A few moments ago you really thought you’d have the upper hand in this game you were playing but now realized you were just as pathetic as he was. 

Maybe sending him that image was a Freudian slip of some kind. Or maybe it was just some odd plan the universe had to bring you together. Either way, you were grateful for how things turned out. 

Your hands became curious as they wandered over Spencer’s body. The tingling in your fingertips could only be soothed by feeling his skin underneath them, so they quickly began unbuttoning his shirt. Spencer showed a similar interest in feeling more of you by the way his fingers dropped down to the hem of your shirt. 

Piece after piece both of your clothes fell to the floor, only ever breaking the kiss for as long as necessary. When you stood completely bare in front of one another, you dared to press your body against his to feel him. 

It was impossible to tell who moaned first when his length pressed against your stomach. With a firm grip on his shoulders, you moved him back until his legs made contact with the edge of the bed. You pushed down until he sat on the mattress, staring up at you with a curiosity in his eyes that made your heart jump. 

As you stepped back, his tongue darted out of his mouth to lick over his lips and you wondered if he thought about tasting you. To your surprise, he managed to not break eye contact until you challenged him, “Go on, take a look.”

His sight scanned your body, lingering on your breasts for a second before moving further down, taking everything in. You couldn’t hold back from looking at him, too. A rosy color had spread all over his cheeks and chest and when you dared to drop your eyes to his cock, you noticed how it twitched slightly against his thigh. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he cooed when your eyes met again. 

“Better than the image?” you teased, smirking at him. 

He only nodded before looking at your body again. It was like he was mesmerized, as if a miracle had just unfolded right before him. It became obvious that he was ready to worship you if you’d let him. But first, you had something else in your mind. 

“Show me exactly what you did when you saw my picture,” you told him. 

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Wh… what?” 

“Don’t be shy now,” you snickered. “Come on, I wanna see how pretty you think I am.” 

The sweet smile on your face seemed to encourage him enough to let his right hand move towards his hardness. It was as if he needed reassurance when he found your eyes and you nodded.

He wrapped his fingers around his cock, giving himself a squeeze and you watched as precum spilled over the tip. Slowly, he began moving his fist up and down his length, swiping his thumb over the head each time he got to the top. The groan that slipped from his lips could only be described as absolutely sinful. 

You couldn’t deny how much the sight in front of you turned you on. Spencer was so incredibly beautiful and the thought that your body had the ability to make him feral like that drove you insane. 

Arousal gathered at your entrance the longer you watched him. This show was no longer enough for you, you needed more. Your hands found the curve of your chest, gently kneading them before your fingers began toying with your hardened peaks. Spencer’s eyes were fixated on your hands, his mouth hanging wide open and unabashedly moaning at the sight while accelerating the pace of his hand. 

Then suddenly, he stopped and got up from bed. Desperation was written all over his face when he looked at you. 

“Please,” he begged as he stepped closer. “I need to touch you.” 

It was everything you wanted right then, too. 

“I’m all yours, Spencer.” 

His mouth was on yours in an instant and he didn’t waste any time to move you over to the bed to push you onto the mattress. He followed quickly, towering over you as he kissed down your neck, making you moan in anticipation of what would follow. 

He moved further down your body, kissing and nipping on the tender flesh of your breasts before focusing his attention on your nipples. The sensation was almost unbearable and you could feel how your arousal began coating the insides of your thighs. 

Spencer smiled against your skin when he noticed you rocking your hips against his leg every so slightly. His confidence grew as he realized that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. 

“Needy,” he chuckled as he kissed down your stomach. “That’s cute.” 

Right then you couldn’t care less about being in charge, you just wanted to be taken care of. When his lips brushed over your inner thigh, you opened your legs further to give him better access. He lay down between your legs and didn’t waste any time before he began leaving feather light kisses against your folds. 

You watched as he licked his own lips, tasting your essence on them before he found your eyes. 

“You’re so wet,” he teased and let a finger move along your slit. “Is that all for me?” 

He expected a witty response, like you telling him to bring his mouth to good use for once. So it took him by surprise when you simply sighed, “Yes.” 

There was no more game to play. No more back and forth of who was in charge. It was just the two of you, equally as desperate to finally do what you both had been dreaming of for weeks.

“Good,” Spencer whispered, his hot breath tickling your core, before he finally granted you some relief. 

His tongue moved through your folds, collecting your taste before he focussed on your most sensitive spot. He experimented with different motions for a few moments, paying attention to your reactions until he found what you enjoyed the most. Your hand flew to his hair, your fingers intertwining with his curls to hinder him from moving away – even though he had no intention to do so, anyway. 

With one arm wrapped around your thigh he hindered you from bucking uncontrollably against his face while his other hand found your entrance, letting two fingers slip into you with ease. He moved with great precision, adjusting the angle and the pace according to your reactions, bringing you closer to your breaking point with every second passing. 

The sounds of your pleasure filled the room as you began dancing along the brink of euphoria. With just a few more skillful motions, he pushed you over it. Your walls pulsed around his fingers while your entire body shook. He worked you through your orgasm before he lay back down beside you, placing a gentle kiss against your lips. 

You were still panting when you found his eyes. The warm amber of his irises was almost completely swallowed by his pupils, the lust visible in his eyes contradicting the saccharine smile he showed you. 

“You okay?” he breathed as he wrapped one arm around your waist. 

“Yeah,” you confirmed while one of your hands moved down his body. 

Tentatively, you let your fingertips brush along his length, feeling his velvety skin under your touch. “Now what are we gonna do with you?” you purred as you wrapped your fingers tightly around him, making him gasp. 

With a torturously slow pace, you moved along his cock. “Tell me, Spencer. What do you want?” 

“I uhm…,” he audibly swallowed. “I have a condom in my pocket.” 

The fact that he brought a condom to your hotel room when he came over early amused you. He never had any intention of just talking to you. 

���So, you want to fuck me?” 

“Yes,” he admitted unabashedly. “If you want that, too, of course.”

With a nod you confirmed that that was exactly what you wanted as well. Right after you let go of him, he grabbed his pants from the floor to take out the foil wrapper. You watched as he ripped it open and carefully rolled down the condom. 

Then, he kneeled down between your legs, taking a moment to admire the beauty of the woman in front of him. 

“Come here,” you cooed and he leaned over you without hesitation. 

Reaching between your bodies, you guided him to your entrance. He closed his eyes when he slowly entered you, relishing the sensation of stretching you open inch by inch. When he was fully inside you, he kissed you before he began moving with slow thrusts.

Wrapping your legs around his hips, you brought him even closer. When he was sure that you could take it, he accelerated his pace, fucking you against the mattress until you were sure you would lose your mind. 

Spencer’s body began trembling and he suddenly stopped moving. 

“Sorry, I’m really close,” he whined and tried to pull out slightly. 

“Don’t stop,” you pleaded as you kept him in place with your legs around him. “Please, I need it.”

One of your hands moved down to where your bodies were joined to desperately draw circles around your little nub, making you clench hard around his hardness. 

“Fuck,” he whimpered as he began moving again. “I can’t, ah–” 

With just a few more deep thrusts Spencer came, his cock twitching inside you as his whole body shook. It was enough to throw you over edge too, entering a state of pure bliss together with him. After you had both come down from your high, you welcomed him inside your embrace, your fingertips gently dancing over his back as he caught his breath. 

For the sake of getting cleaned up you separated for a few moments, only to lay back down together soon after. A shaky breath fell from Spencer’s lips and caught your attention. 

“So…,” he began talking but didn’t continue. 

You propped yourself up on one elbow to find his eyes. “Yeah?”

“I wanted to ask if maybe–” 

“You want me to send you that pic again?” you interrupted him with a grin on your face. 

“No,” he laughed. “I mean… that’s not what I wanted to say.”

Still in a teasing mood, you snickered, “But you would like to see that pic again?”

“You know what,” he chuckled as he lifted the blanket to get a peek at your naked body. “I think I actually prefer this.”

“Good,” you chirped. “If you want to see more of me you’ll have to take me on a date though.”

Placing a soft kiss on your lips, he whispered, “Deal.”

Thank you for reading! Please like, reblog and leave a comment to show your support and help me stay motivated to write more stories!

Taglist: @adoredfromafar @grumpyy-bearr @frickin-bats @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @xserenax-13 @alexxavicry @samuel-de-champagne-problems @evvy96 @reidsbookclub @lover-of-books-and-tea @sebs-oxygen @nomajdetective @kobaltdragon @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @castiels-majestic-wings

[tojisun]

price calling himself daddy 24/7 just to keep you in a certain headspace. even does it when you’re in a mood and he’s sinking to his knees telling his pretty girl to fuck his mouth about it

oh jesus christ this does it for me

john seeing you be so bratty and mean — full of spite and festered resentment because this day had been so shitty — but he just. folds himself before you, sinking to his knees, all starry-eyed and wobbly lips underneath his scruff.

he rubs his thumb on the inside of your thigh, humming, “won’t you, baby?”

your breath hitches, of course it would, and john is still all quiet smiles and rumbling voice and overflowing patience.

“use daddy to get the edge off, yes? ‘cause daddy just wants to see ‘is baby happy, s’all,” he croons, his eyes darkened with his own desire.

and god, john’s got you all jittery and hyper focused on his touch, feeling like the rug’s been ripped from underneath you, leaving you to free-fall into this haze that john’s coaxing you in. he’s leading you to it with such gentle cadence that you slip underneath the fog easily — your trembling hands reach to tug at your shorts, then at your panties, before spreading your legs wider, allowing john to scoot closer until his breath’s tickling your dampening folds.

“come on, sweet’art,” john rumbles, so close to your cunt you’re sure you felt his voice pulse against your core. “hands on daddy’s head; no need t’be shy about it.”

a whimper trickles from your lips, a broken little thing, as you reach forward to fist at his hair, gripping with a trembling hesitance because john may be offering but it’s still so difficult for you to take the lead. to— to use him, as he said.

because john’s this… big man. not quite literally but he has this pull in him that makes you ache, like more than anything, you are just john’s girl. no expectations, no responsibilities; just john’s sweetheart, the one he spoils with such ease and happiness. the one that makes him fold — to his knees, like right now.

the first glide is uncertain, like testing the waters even though john had devoured your cunt time and time again. but still, this was a different voyage — you feel even more exposed like this, holding his own pleasure and his own control in your lither hands. john moans, though, loud and drawn out, like it’s your face on his crotch. and you stutter, battered with your own crashing desires, and john—

he gets it. he feels your twitching fingers and the tension in your muscles because he digs his face deeper, tongue dragging along your folds with gusto, and this, like this, the dam breaks. your veins sing with pleasure, your synapses buzzing as the onslaught of your ecstasy burns through, devouring everything in its wake.

you don’t even notice the way your grip on john’s head had tightened, so focused on using his face to fuck your cunt — sliding him up-down-in-in-more. “daddy, more!”

and john groans, an apex predator’s bellow, before wider hands grip the plush of your thighs so he could fuck his tongue deeper, pushing his face closer, not minding the fact that any more and he could pretty much be smothered by your cunt and your slick—

god, your slick. the most fucking delicious thing he’s ever gulped down. and you’re so wet, dripping down your thighs and into his tongue, filling up his jowls for him to gulp down. to devour.

his precious girl, so delicious. so beautiful. so desperate for daddy.

“gonna-! daddy, m’gonna-!”

john growls, pushing your thighs further apart. his scalp burns with tiny pricks as you tug at his hair but that’s little sacrifice for this prize that’s laying before him, all sweet and needy. cunt weeping for him. only for him.

your squirt makes a mess out of him, but john doesn’t care. he gulps it down, slurping all that slip past his maw because — “baby. m’baby,” john sighs into your pussy. “so good f’r me, sweet’art. so good.”

john chances a glance up your way but you’re not even with him anymore, your gaze faraway.

“aww, sweet thing,” he croons, finally climbing up to mount you. “come on, darlin’. come back to daddy.”

but all you could do is warble a reply, and john can’t help but coo because like this, you’re even sweeter than usual. so precious for him; so precious in your trembling ecstasy.

[sukunasweetheart]

the tiger and his milk! 🐯

in this world, a certain tiger hybrid male keeps a keen eye on a cow hybrid female next door...

warnings; female reader, inaccurate?omegaverse, lactation without pregnancy, animal-human hybrid AU (but theyre more human than animal tbh just imagine them with ears and a tail), heat and rut, breeding, alcohol as aphrodisiac, bullying of the cervix, tit sucking, nipple teasing, biting, dry humping, overstimulation, sexual frustration, neighbours-with-benefits, knotting, f!masturbation, lots of cum, this is straight up just a hxntai oop

word count; 6.5k

dividers by @/saradika-graphics and @/thecutestgrotto

do NOT expect a serious and well-paced writing from this one, i was horny and the end result is just.... this. sorry not sorry, I AM WARNING YALL; this is one degenerate ass fic also forgive me for any inaccuracies in any of the tropes i used, i just cherry picked the parts i wanted and mixed it all together so...

moving to this new neighborhood hasn't been all too easy for you.

being a little low on money aside, there's a certain rambunctious neighbour who won't leave you alone. he playfully terrorises you with threats to eat you up, and makes comments that all go straight to your head, making you feel weak and flustered, leading you to cower beneath him. though you should firmly tell him to cut it out, you struggle to do this when you’re dealing with someone who could be a natural predator of yours, had you been an actual sow and not a hybrid. 

that, and also-

strangely, there's a part of you that doesn't despise the way he treats you. in fact, when you see his large, brutish hands and the veins that run up his arms, you feel yourself squeezing your thighs together. you brush it off as it being a result of your apparent loneliness and sexual frustration. there's nothing good that'd come out from being with such a discourteous man.

setting that aside... there are numerous other problems that you've been having to deal with, recently.

your breasts have been collecting milk faster, and much more than usual, recently.

even for cow hybrids, milk should only be produced when the female is pregnant, and for only a year or two at most after giving birth. for some unknown reason, you produce it all year round, even without needing to have children. doctor after doctor you've visited, and all they've told you is that you're a strange anomaly. there is nothing you can do about it except extract it every now and then, to relieve the pain and swelling.

tonight, that is what you're planning on busying yourself with, once you get home from your shitty office job.

walking towards your porch with a deep sigh, you hear a deep voice call out to you.

"bad day at work, dollface?" your terrible neighbour-- sukuna, he's called, asks you with a cigarette in his hand dressed in jeans and a black tanktop. his tail swishes playfully behind him.

dollface. one of the few nicknames he uses condescendingly to refer to you. it's either dollface, doll, or sweetheart, and you don't recall ever hearing him actually use your name.

"um, work was alright... thank you for asking. have a good evening."

you like to make things short and stop any further conversation from happening, even though it might come off as a little awkward. one of sukuna's ears flick at your dry response, but he doesn't seem to bother you any further as you hurriedly unlock your front door and head inside.

sukuna drops his cigarette bud on the ground, and puts out the flame by stepping on it. you're not very sociable, as per usual...

but your sweet, passing scent makes for a little growl to rise in the back of his throat. sweet milk. that's what you always smell like. how curious. how tempting.

once you're home, you immediately grab your breastmilk pump that sits beside your sink. it hasn't been too long since you last cleaned it. you unhook your bra, and grimace at the wet stains on it, from leaking bit by bit throughout the day.

you press the pump up against one of your breasts and press the on button. it starts doing it's job. you sigh from relief, and watch as it fills up quite quickly. you wonder what you should do with all of it...

you stop the pump to empty it out into a glass bottle. it's a tedious process. sometimes... sometimes you wish you had a partner who could help you with it. sometimes, you wish someone would latch their mouth on and extract you directly-

what if he-- sukuna- did that for you? forcefully held you down and-

your eyes widen and your tail droops with shock at your own intrusive thoughts. heavens, no! you need to get yourself a partner. it's been too long. you hope you're not heading into heat already? it's not time for that yet, at least not according to your usual cycle. shaking your head as you extract the remnants of the milk from your breasts, you finish up quickly.

at least tomorrow, it will be saturday.

you'd forgotten about how overgrown the grass in your front yard had gotten. so, even though it's a saturday, and despite how you'd love to stay inside with all the curtains shut and doors locked tight... an unpleasant duty calls outside.

but despite the meticulous preparation of lathering enough sunscreen over yourself in protection against the sun's rays - the lawn mower suddenly doesn't want to heed to your calling.

your face scrunches up into a frown. darn thing.

the useless machine splutters and makes an obnoxious noise only in the beginning before giving out, no matter how many times you try to rev it back up again.

"goddamn it. you stupid thing," you mutter under your breath, crouching down to inspect it.

"need help?"

sukuna leans against the fence that is shorter than his own height, watching you with amusement. he'd been observing you for quite a few minutes by now.

"no thank you. i'm quite alright..." you respond without turning back. you know damn well whose voice that belongs to.

but does he listen? of course not! you hear the noise of the man easily bypassing the fence by elegantly hopping over it, before walking over towards you. how funny, even the fence fails to serve it's purpose in this moment.

"like that's believable. you think verbally degrading it will make it work?" sukuna snorts, coming around and shooing you away from the lawn mower.

he gives it a nice big rev, but not much happens. you smile slightly, wondering if he was going to make a fool of himself, after all that big attitude.

sukuna brings his foot against the side of the machine and gives it a hard kick. the sound startles you.

and now it's starting up nicely, and beginning to do it's job.

the man begins to mow your lawn for you, without another word. you stand around, not knowing what to do... your ears flicker as you stare at him doing your job for you. it feels odd. what is he up to?

well... no matter the hidden motive, it's true that he's doing you a huge favour. perhaps you should at least make a cold beverage for him, once he finishes with your yard. after observing him for a while, you head back inside to search for what would serve as an appropriate iced drink.

by the time you've stepped back outside, the yard is cut neatly and sukuna is in the midst of returning your lawn mower to your garage.

you silently hand him over his drink, and he takes it with a smirk.

"it's gone..." he suddenly comments.

"what's gone?" you question, with a raised eyebrow.

"that sweet smell that always surrounds you."

he proceeds to down his drink very quickly, not breaking eye contact with you. then, he starts chewing on the ice, tail swishing mischievously behind him.

"i... don't know what you mean." you cross your arms.

"hmm. playing dumb, i see. that's fine, i suppose."

you stand awkwardly with him in silence, simply listening to him crunching away on the ice. the heat from the sunlight gets more and more unbearable.

"if you're done with your drink... i think i'll start heading back inside now. thank you for your help today," you tell him politely, carefully taking your cup back from his hands.

he makes it seem like he's handing it over to you obediently, but then he tightens his grip against it when you're holding onto the glass, making you stare up at him in confusion. he pulls it back, so that you stumble closer to him.

"just letting you know. if you need any help, you can always ask me."

you're a bit nervous, but you try not to show it. does he know something? how much does he know? you feel your tail cowardly fall in between your legs. sukuna's ears give a light flick, but you don't know what that means.

"...we're neighbours, after all."

you look at him with distrust, holding onto your cup tighter. your gaze is unwavering as you meet his eyes.

"sure. i'll keep that in mind," you respond slowly.

seemingly satisfied, he lets go of your glass.

"thanks for the drink. see you."

it's a short backhanded wave he gives you, before he hops over the fence again. you narrow your eyes. just what kind of fence is this useless? can't even keep away one bad, bad man. you're not sure how much he's caught onto, but you sure hope he stops being interested in you with enough time. he easily sends odd tingles down your spine, and you don't like that one bit.

not at all...

the working part of an office job isn't actually that bad.

it's the people involved around you that makes it a living hell. nothing gets your blood pressure higher than your collusive colleagues and snobby superiors - especially the lazy ones who do everything to shove their workload onto other people.

such people are yet also, annoyingly obsessed with get-togethers and teamwork, which makes you laugh.

today is such an unlucky day, that you've been dragged off to an after-work gathering at some cheap restaurant with your shitty coworkers, all because one of them decided that they needed one.

nothing like being surrounded by a bunch of people that you hate, on a wednesday evening. you have to put on a fake smile, and remain the passive, agreeable coworker in this environment. they coerce you to drink more alcohol. you want to decline, but you feel as though you'll ruin the mood if you turn them down. you down a few pints of beer.

you can feel your breasts leaking again.

just let me go home, you think to yourself, for the fifth time in a row.

your wish is only granted after an hour or two later. you're still sober, maybe a little tipsy, seeing as you can feel the heat in your face from the alcohol. your body is probably not taking it very well today.

the first thing you do when you get home is washing your hands and settling down with your little trusty pump. when you undo your bra, you sigh in relief as your chest feels free. and also...

it's probably the alcohol acting as an aphrodisiac - you're a bit more sensitive tonight. you caress the swell of your breast and groan, your horniness overriding how tired you are. your other hand wanders down your panties, and your ears droop down.

you purse your lips together and let your fingers work against your clit for an orgasm that you know will be unsatisfactory, but you chase after such pleasure regardless. your breaths quicken, and you tilt your head back, closing your eyes. nearly there...

just when you were about to reach your first high of the night, a firm knock is heard from your door. just your luck. a ruined orgasm.

who can it be, at this time of the evening? you throw on a cardigan that just barely covers you up, and boldly stomp towards the door, irritated. you could give this person just about any piece of your mind.

but when you open the door, you're met with your most cunning and bothersome of a neighbour, sukuna. maybe it's because you're hornier than ever right now - you feel as though he looks even...hotter, tonight. his scent makes you dizzy.

sukuna had come by because he needed an ingredient for his dinner.

he wasn't expecting to be met with the eye candy that is your slightly disheveled self, with one hand keeping your loose cardigan together, while you're very obviously braless, judging by your nipples jutting out against the fabric. that, and the thick smell of your arousal that hit him right when the door had opened.

"wh-what do you want?" you ask, a little breathless, trying to keep it together.

sukuna looks down at you, trying to keep himself calm. this seems amusing. he doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself from tenting his pants soon, if he stays around you longer...

"you look like you were busy with something... sorry to interrupt," he voices slyly, his fangs showing when he smiles.

"just... get on with it, please," you frown, your legs squeezing together. you can never tell what he's thinking - whether he knows everything or if he's pretending to know everything.

"nothing much, just ran out of salt at home. could i get some of yours?" sukuna shrugs innocently, holding up his empty salt jar.

"hold on a second."

you turn around to button your cardigan up with a sigh of annoyance, and you tell him to come in while you grab your salt from the kitchen.

once sukuna steps inside, he observes a million details at once. the very first thing he sees is your little pump that you'd forgotten to put away there. there's no way that puny thing is enough for you, is it?

in your kitchen, you grab your jar of salt, and attempt to open the thing - but your arms feel like jelly at the moment. you grit your teeth and try harder, cursing at yourself for shutting it so tight the last time you used it. you begin to strain your arms further. sukuna marvels at this excellent opportunity he is granted.

your feelings of irritation are whisked away when a pair of hands gently land on top of yours, against the jar. his fingertips reach the lid through the gaps between your own fingers. you feel the bigger man's body warmth, when he comes around from behind. it makes you feel so weak. your tail is hanging off to the side, raised high.

sukuna applies a bit of pressure, and the jar comes off easily. you note how warm his large hands feel.

"i came here for the salt, but now i'm thinking maybe i won't need it anymore..." he whispers down at you. your ears can't help but flicker from his voice.

"what... do you mean by that?" you ask, not knowing what to think.

he guides your hands to put the salt down on the counter. and then his body presses up against yours a little harder. you can feel his growing boner against your behind, and you feel lightheaded. sukuna peers down longingly at the exposed side of your neck.

your pheromones mix with his, and his fluffy tail curls around your leg, almost possessively. sukuna's hands are still holding onto yours, and you feel your breaths get more laboured by the tension.

"i promised to lend my help, didn't i? c'mon..." he coaxes, speaking closely so that his breath grazes against the skin of your neck.

you feel yourself starting to sweat a little more - his body heat is just too much. your chest is uncomfortably full, and the thought of someone sucking on your sensitive nipples is enough for you to finally cave in, and play the fool for the night.

you break free from his grasp for a moment, and hesitatingly point to your couch.

"...sit. it's probably easier on the couch," you tell him, not looking his way. and now you're even shoving him towards it, impatiently.

"my, how demanding," he comments teasingly. he knows you purposefully broke the tension - to prevent him from taking the lead. but he obediently takes a seat on your couch. following that, you awkwardly mount him and sit on his lap.

sukuna watches with a softer smirk as you unbutton yourself again, revealing your leaky breasts with a flustered look on your face. sukuna's hit with that familiar sweet scent that's always been floating around you all this time - but now, it's right in front of him, in full force. it makes his mouth water. he was right about you lactating.

"....go ahead," you tell him shamelessly, yet still sorely embarrassed, cheeks feeling so warm that you're concerned you might pass out. "just be gentle," you warn him, looking at him with a little hesitation and pursed lips.

sukuna feels his cock twitch against you, and he wonders if you can feel it too, from the way you're sitting right on it. his own face feels quite flushed - any man would be the same if they were in his position. such a pretty thing in his lap, willingly undoing her buttons for him. he's never seen tits more beautiful than yours.

"hurry-" you breathe out, impatient, and moreover, shy from the way he's shamelessly admiring your face and chest with a dumb smirk plastered on his face.

not even a millisecond after you say it, he puts his searing hot mouth around one of your nipples. your brain ceases to function as a zap runs through your body, and you whine without meaning to, your back arching against the couch. though you grab at his shoulder, your other hand claps over your own mouth to muffle your moans.

the suction of his mouth does wonders for pleasure, nothing like the dull feeling that your mechanic pump gives. you hear his throaty growls as he sucks on your nipple, getting a mouthful of the taste of your sweet milk. you shudder under him, becoming pliant with his touch.

sukuna bathes in your warmth and the softness of your breasts, enjoying how he is able to breathe in your scent from this close. your milk isn't like anything he's ever had before. not too sweet and yet not bland - a taste that is unique to you...

his other hand squeezes your other nipple, making sure it isn't too lonely from his touch. you jerk your hips against him, whole body twitching from the pleasure, the joy of having your tits milked by someone else rather than yourself. you can't hold your moans back any longer.

"fuck... oh please..." you mumble, feeling your breast being drained of it's milk.

he stops sucking for a moment, and you see the beautiful but subtle blush on his cheeks, as he looks up at you like he's intoxicated. he lets his tongue out and flicks it up and down your erect nipple, rolling it around the areola. it makes you whimper and tremble in his lap.

"don't... tease me..." you say through gritted teeth, frowning at him while he merely chuckles at your reaction.

sukuna attaches his mouth to your other breast, as it's leaking so much - as if to beg him to drain it next.

your cunt is pulsing so bad, and you feel yourself drenching your panties already. you subconsciously grind down against him and his obvious boner, trying to relieve yourself, desperate to reach a proper orgasm this time. both of you are in a lusty haze, unconcentrated eyes, you're lost in pleasure and he's lost in the taste of you, your breast milk dripping down his chin as he messily gulps down with greed.

sukuna also bucks his hips up against you, cock straining in his pants - god, he's so hard that it hurts. when was the last time he's felt such a way? he breathlessly sucks and slurps everything out of you, feeling the milk pass down his throat and into his stomach. he could drink this shit forever.

he wants to cum. he's gonna fucking cum. into his pants no less, like a damn virgin. with the way you're rolling your hips around and grinding down on him like a whore, its only a matter of time.

"haah... sukuna... more- do it more," you plead, relishing in the pleasure of having your tits taken care of, while you get yourself off on his very obvious erection - rubbing your clothed cunt against him. it feels so good on your sensitive clit, you're gonna lose your damn mind.

sukuna doesn't pry his lips away from your nipple, but his hands come off your breasts - you feel his arms wrap around your waist instead, holding you down against him tightly, guiding your hips and helping himself dry hump you harder while his face is still all up in your tits.

your breathing quickens even further, and you grab fistfuls of his shirt on his back, shutting your eyes in anticipation-- before letting your orgasm crash over you completely. you gasp as your clit throbs intensely, and you feel slick leaking all over in your panties as you ride your climax out against sukuna's hard cock, shuddering as you do so.

sukuna groans with his mouth still on your breast, his orgasm coming a little later than yours, dick twitching as rope after rope of his cum soils his boxers, hips bucking up into you without control - it feels so restricted in his shorts, and he desperately wants to take it out. his lips finally leave your swollen nipple with a little pop sound. his large hands come to grope the soft flesh as he comes off his high, a dull throb ringing in his cock, one orgasm being far from enough.

"look at you, rubbing your cunt all over my cock to get yourself off, like a proper slut. aren't you a little too eager?" he teases breathlessly, with a weak smirk on his face.

"you're the one... that came onto me so strongly..." you pant, drunk from the waves of pleasure you just received, and from the endless twitching of sukuna's giant cock... he's still hard.

"just admit that you're perverted. arguably, even worse than what i am," sukuna mocks, pinching at your nipples, making you wince.

"shut up, you."

in the spur of the moment, you lift your hips up slightly to shove your hand down his pants to take his dick out due to irritation. sukuna gives the slightest flinch from the sensation of your hand, grabbing onto his now bare erection.

you begin to fiercely jerk him off with a frown on your face, wanting to punish him for his comments a few seconds ago, knowing he's still sensitive from his recent orgasm.

"fuck-! what're you-" he cuts his own voice off with a choked off gasp due to the tight grip of your hand against his twitching cock. he's back to bucking his hips again as you pump up and down with both hands, his dick already being lathered with his own cum making it easier for you. the noises that come out of him almost fills you with pride - and also surprise. you'd never thought that someone like him would ever moan in this way... you jerk him off faster, and a little harder, being fixated on his pretty looking cock that keeps jumping in your hands.

"shit! that's- enough-" sukuna gasps again, chest heaving and whole body jerking, but oddly, not attempting to stop you at all.

you watch in awe, as his cock spurts out several strings of white cum once again, his head tilted back with deep groans, dick pulsing - your hands keep away from it for the first few seconds just to observe, but then you help to milk it dry, grabbing his base and slowly stroking up and down. he shudders from your touch, and the sight of him being so sorely sensitive makes you feel your heartbeat in your pussy again.

he really does cum a shit ton. it goes for what seems to be like ages, never ending pulses of his cock and rope after rope tainting your hands, and his own stomach. the way he shivers before you, how captivating his groans sound, it all makes you want to do it all over again.

you slowly rub his tip against your palm, playing with his dick as if it were a toy - but this time, he grabs your wrist to stop you.

"enough..." he says with a low voice - and the look that he gives you sends a shiver down your spine.

he's beginning to smell a bit different. its not like before. and it's getting thicker by the second...

"ah, fuck.... i'm in rut," sukuna admits with a scowl, and a flushed face.

the realisation hits you like a truck.

"look at what you've done," sukuna growls as he grabs your hips and pushes you closer towards him, his cock impossibly harder. he's breathing heavily, and you see the precum that's gathering on his tip. he won't be able to hold himself back much longer, and you know it.

and curse the omega in you - you're unable to resist him, and you can feel yourself syncing with his rut, a strange swoop occurring in your stomach. his strong pheromones make you lightheaded and feverish, instigating your submissive side as you become obedient - sitting on his lap with an eager shine in your eyes, breathing heavy from his strong scent and your desire to be dominated.

you want to have your brains fucked out. you can't take it anymore.

as if reading your mind, sukuna lunges forward and practically throws you onto your back on your couch - you let out a yelp and watch as he pulls your shorts and panties down and casts them aside, stripping you completely. you feel so vulnerable, but his intense strength and desperation is only adding to your arousal.

he pushes your knees up and rubs his cock up against your clit, and puckering hole.

"look at all this slick. you want me that bad huh?" sukuna remarks darkly, sweat gathering on his temples.

you grit your teeth, fighting the urge to give him a meek response - having the strange desire to provoke and set him off until the end.

"you're the desperate one here..." you tell him breathlessly, sensing how his dick is practically begging to be inside you, with the way it twitches on your cunt.

your blood runs cold for a second, when you see the way he looks down at you, with a vein popping out on his forehead.

"...maybe i am," he relents, with a low voice, grabbing your face.

and then he leans down to shove his lips against yours, while thrusting his cock into you at the same time.

you whimper into the kiss as his tip hits your womb like nothing. you'd ignored how massive he was at the start, but now it's impossible to brush off.

"t-too big..." you mumble when he breaks away from your lips.

sukuna groans as he drags his cock in and out of your sopping cunt, practically holding him in an iron grip from the suction. your endless amount of slick coats his dick with plenty of lubricant to fuck you more easily.

"you can take it, doll. i'll make you take it..."

his eyes dilate as he begins to piston his hips at a fast but uneven pace, groaning shamelessly as his cock ravishes your pussy by hitting all the right places, heavy balls smacking against your ass with every thrust. the pleasure runs through your veins like electricity, and you feel high off the feeling of someone so big and strong using you like you were his fleshlight - to relieve his rut.

you can barely breathe from the way he pounds you, relentlessly pushing you to the limit, tears forming in your eyes and high pitched moans coming from your throat.

"ohh-! sukuna... oh, please please please..." you plead, almost sobbing.

he responds by leaning down to lather his tongue against your scent glands, sucking on them and rest of the skin on your neck. you shudder and let out another set of whimpers - and sukuna's fangs feel antsy, wanting to sink them into your flesh.

sukuna aims for the sweetness from your breasts, to distract himself. you cry out as he roughly latches onto your nipple and begins to suck as he squeezes your soft flesh. his cock feels like it's about to burst.

when he stimulates your nipples a certain way and his tip grazes your g-spot at the same time, you're hit with an orgasm that makes you squeal and has your cunt fluttering uncontrollably.

his dick gives in to the sudden milkings of your pussy and sukuna pushes his hips to settle himself into you as deep as he can - giving a choked off groan from the sudden climax as his cock swells up inside of you, anchoring itself.

the knowledge of him knotting you doesn't seem to matter as you enjoy the feeling of the warm gush of his cum pouring into your womb, his balls clenching with every rope that spurts out, messily coating your walls with white.

sukuna pants so heavily above you, abs flexing as he continues to orgasm in your warm cunt that still has a dull pulse from your previous climax. he nuzzles into the crook of your neck with a soft growl, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

your breathing relaxes as you lay still on the couch while sukuna weighs you down and breeds you properly, consequences be damned. you could try and fight him off, but it's been so long since you've been so sexually satisfied that your logical thinking has turned itself off. all you want to do is enjoy bathing in the pheromones of your alpha and let the heaviness of his large body drape over yours as he pumps you full of his babies.

sukuna is usually very careful about who he's around when he's in a rut - and he's always made sure either he or his partner had some sort of protection on before doing anything. he wouldn't want to go around having kids with the wrong people. it's hard to say whether you're wrong or right for him - he doesn't know much about you to judge yet...

but you make him feel so right.

and he's still fighting off the urge to mark you to make you officially his, with drool beginning to run down his chin. his fangs are making it unbearable; he needs to bite something right now.

"you look restless..." you tell him, getting him to tear his gaze away from your neck, to your face instead.

you pull him in for a messy kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth. he feels the way you brush over his fangs, paying extra attention to them as you make out with him, and it makes him groan. you must have done this with someone else before. sukuna nips at your tongue and lower lip, doing his best not to break skin - trying to relieve himself of the urge to bite.

the swell of his knot is gradually subsiding, but you know that the night is far from over.

"which way to your bedroom?" sukuna asks after breaking away from your kiss, breathlessly.

"farthest down the corridor, past the kitchen.." you respond, feeling a little needy after he abruptly stopped the kiss like that.

"hold onto me."

he lifts you up easily with his arms, and you wrap your legs around his waist, arms over his shoulders. the display of strength makes your heartbeat quicken.

when you're laid upon the soft mattress of your bed, his lips come crashing down again - while his hips begin to give shallow thrusts, cock still hard and throbbing. sukuna kisses you like he's a man starved, and you feel as though he might actually swallow you up at this rate.

the strong grip on your hips tighten as his pace gets rougher. you have to break away to gasp and moan. every time he jostles your body, you feel his previous heavy load sloshing inside you, and it's getting too much. sukuna doesn't look like he's even entirely here, hips moving mindlessly and drool dripping down his chin - it's a terrifyingly arousing sight.

he tries to come down and kiss you again, but you have to push his face away - you're so out of breath that you're afraid you might pass out if he does that again. it's overwhelming, how his thick cock bullies itself against your walls over and over again.

sukuna doesn't seem too pleased that you're pushing him away; he holds you tighter and he adjusts his hips to fuck you deeper. you mewl loudly, but keep your hand weakly against his face - he doesn't force it away, but lets his tongue droop out, caressing your fingers with it. you feel him bite and suck on your hand as his sharp thrusts produce small bulges in your stomach.

you witness his eyes dilating again, and you swear you see hearts in them this time, your fingers still in his mouth.

his dick feels so, so good in your pussy. your intoxicating smell now surrounds him after coming into your bedroom, and it's driving him insane. he grunts above you, balls feeling heavy, dick pulsing as his tip finds its way knocking on your cervix. there's a thick ring of cream foaming on the base of his cock now, a mixed concoction of both his cum and your slick.

his thrusting gets sloppy and his hips stutter, meaning that he's going to orgasm again. sukuna's eyes roll back, as he messily "kisses" your hand, pushing himself balls deep into you at the final moment.

you arch your back at the sensation of his knot swelling up once again, cumming at this moment. sukuna almost topples over from the tightness, as the walls of your cunt flutter around his knot, effectively squeezing everything out of him.

"f-fu-uuck..." he drones out, his voice dragging the curse word out.

you feel him dumping every drop into your poor womb, emptying his balls. you're afraid that you'll get addicted to this "full" feeling, the warmth of his seed filling you up, the way your insides can feel his cock twitch violently with every thick string of cum he shoots out. you never imagined being held down and inseminated would feel this good.

sukuna's eyes are half-lidded, pleasure continuing to run up and down his spine. he pins your wrist down against the bed suddenly, and latches his mouth to one of your breasts - beginning to suck immediately, like he's trying to rehydrate himself with your milk. you shudder. it seems as though he's doing nothing but take, take, and take from your body... not that you'll stop him from doing so.

you run your fingers through his soft hair, catching your breath, slightly trembling each time he sucks a little too hard. shortly after he is seemingly content, he completely collapses his body over yours, face all up in your breasts, purring while his knot still sits inside of you.

you sense that it's only the beginning of a long, long night.

once the sun has rolled into the sky, you finally remember the fact that the weekdays haven't finished yet - and that you're supposed to be getting ready for work right now.

problem is, there's a certain someone clinging to your whole body from behind, still purring against the nape of your neck with a hand lazily groping the flesh of your tit. you can feel his fluffy tail curling around yours, possessively. you're sleepy, and his stupid purring keeps coaxing you to take a nap. he's a lot more docile and softhearted than you imagined. you supposed he'd be out of your house by now.

you reach out and feel around to grab your phone, to give your workplace a call to take the day off. while you're on the phone, sukuna places soft kisses down your back. you hope your boss can't hear the excessive vibration in the background. once you're done with that, you shove your phone under your pillow.

"i need a nap... you can use my shower, or go home, whichever you prefer," you tell him sleepily, shutting your eyes.

"is sleeping next to you also an option?" he asks from behind you, snuggling up closer.

"mm," you reply mindlessly, already dozing off. he slips his arm under your head. admittedly, his arm pillow does feel comfortable.

when you next wake up in a few hours time, you don't know what to feel when you notice that he's still next to you in bed.

"finally awake?"

"yeah... i'm surprised you haven't left," you mumble, following that with a yawn.

"i'm surprised you're not chasing me out," he shoots back.

"what would be the point? i'll see you again the moment i step outside the house."

"i bet you love that. being able to see me all the time," sukuna teases, twirling a strand of your hair with his finger.

"ugh, think what you will," you roll your eyes, trying not to be flustered.

you suddenly realise how thirsty and hungry you are.

"i'm starving... i don't remember what's in the fridge," you mumble to yourself.

"hop in the shower with me and i'll take care of all your meals today," he offers, smirking.

you don't really trust his intentions - especially something as intimate as showering together - but you are famished, and you don't think you will be bothered to cook at all today.

"what meals are we thinking?" you ask, curious.

"hm. well, how about steak?"

"... is that a threat?"

sukuna bursts into laughter.

he informs you that the salt he had originally wanted from you was supposed to be for the steak he was cooking last night. who knew that he'd be having a different kind of steak that evening? you look unamused as he makes the joke between chuckles.

unsurprisingly, you do end up in the shower with him, and again, unsurprisingly, he does pay extra attention to soaping up your tits in particular, and making out with you a little here and there. but as promised, you are rewarded with possibly the best meals you've ever had since you moved to this neighbourhood.

after a bit of conversation, turns out the man is a freelance chef, which is something you would've never guessed. from first glance, he seemed like he could've been part of some gang or a shady underground business.

when you sheepishly apologise for misjudging him based on his looks, sukuna laughs once again, and tells you that he'll forgive you if you let him continue to "help you out" from here onwards...

the rest is in dot points bc im lazy!

originally, i had wanted to make this a bit more toxic but i turned it more wholesome bc i felt like ive already posted toxic stuff before this so haha...

btw you do a few pregnancy checks while sukuna is still there after that night, and it turns out negative. it's a big sigh of relief for you and while it should be the case for sukuna too, since he's never really liked the idea of having kids, for some reason there's the tiniest twinge of disappointment...

anyway - after this, their relationship turns into a weird mix between friends with benefits and ?lovers, semi slow burn

often crashing in each others beds and sharing meals, but also having periods where you won't see one another for a week or so when life gets busy

thing is, you always try and tell yourself that you'll only use him to relieve the swell in your breasts, but it's never the case. things always go out of control and you end up bouncing on his cock without thinking of the consequences.

and he can't stop himself from teasing you everytime, those tits of yours could kill a man, he swears. sukuna gets extremely touchy with them, grazing his fingertips over your nipples, groping you with your shirt still on like a lewd old man, life just feels better when he has your tit in his mouth or hands. it hardly feels like he's actually bullying you when he gets hard like a mf while doing it.

and there are moments where he blurs the line between FWB and becoming something a little more, like when he scents you before you leave his place. "...why're you scenting me?" "why not?"

there is an incident that happens in your house one time, where a huge water leak had happened while you were away at work, drenching the floorboards and things requiring a lot of fixing. you had nowhere else to stay that wasn't either a motel or some cheap sauna so sukuna offered you to sleep at his place for the time being.

"but there's nowhere for you to sleep except for my bed. i'm not bothered to clean out any of the spare rooms and i don't suppose you want to sleep on the sofa for weeks straight?" a sly method of getting you to sleep next to him.

it really made things between you two feel a lot more intimate and romantic, a lot of tension, especially when sleeping together without the sex and doing all the chores. both of you felt a little empty when the house maintenance was all done and you had to go back to your own place.

also, this man is quite loaded with money. freelance chef popular in demand, but he only takes up jobs that he feels like doing. sometimes he'll leave his house empty for longer times because he's busy, which makes you quite lonely and confused, since he doesn't really explain to you where he's going and why a lot of the time.

when he eventually is back again, he is met with you, holding the scent of some other alpha. he finds himself feeling incredibly upset and possessive, even though he's always deemed relationships to be superficial in his life, because it limits his freedom. but he just feels so deeply unhappy about it that he ends up arguing with you

he knows it shouldn't be something he is entitled to feel angry about when he's not even properly committed to you but it's not like he's ever mingled with other omegas ever since he's met you? it just felt so unfair to him in the moment.

shortly after the argument, you end up confessing you didn't even do anything with the alpha anyway, just a boring date and one quick hug. and sukuna also explains that it was his fault in the first place, leaving and coming back without saying anything. turns out that he sometimes works as a chef in places like hotels and when he's preparing food for companies or people who live a distance away, he just spends the nights somewhere nearby for convenience.

the tension is high after both of you are finished clearing things up, and it eventually leads to sex again. he wants to get rid of that scent ASAP, whether it was from just a hug or not, he needs it GONE. and this time, he properly marks you, sinking his fangs into your scent glands like he's always ached to do.

the night ends with you two officially becoming a couple, finally haha, happy days

the end

Masterlist

[witchywithwhiskey]

only man allowed

pairing: toxic!bucky barnes x toxic!female reader

summary: you're feeling particularly needy one night, but when you text your situationship to come over, he reminds you that he won't wear a condom, which is a problem since it's a risky time of the month for you. but you tell him to come over anyway.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), established situationship, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering (f receiving), consensual non-consent and consensual sexual coercion, sexual roleplay, 'just the tip' trope, breeding kink, bdsm elements, some biting and marking, some dacryphilia, some pain play, dirty talk, daddy kink, praise kink, degradation kink, pet names (baby), begging, teasing, multiple orgasms, aftercare, taking and sending nude photos, possessive behavior, toxic behavior, jealousy, referenced but not shown situationship between reader and john walker, very anti-john walker behavior

word count: 8.5k

a/n: listen, i definitely wrote this at a certain time of the month and i'm not going to apologize for it!!! what i will apologize for is the fact that this ended up being way longer than i expected!! i wanted these to be short little fics, but apparently toxic bucky won't let me keep things short 🤭 anyway, this was fun to write and i hope y'all enjoy it!! ♡

you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series masterlist

You missing me, baby?

You could perfectly imagine the arrogant smirk on Bucky Barnes’ stupidly handsome face and the playful glint of mischief in his eye as he asked you that question in response to the picture you’d sent. It was a hastily taken photo of your body clad only in one of Bucky’s t-shirts, your fingers pulling up the hem to show a pair of panties—the ones that had made him groan like he was being tortured when he’d first seen them. 

The truth was, you were missing him. You were horny as fuck and you didn’t care if he knew it—which, you were certain he did, because you only ever sent him lewd photos of yourself when you wanted him—but would it kill Bucky to show a little bit of reciprocity, instead of sending you that teasing response?

It didn’t matter that his playfully cocky words only drove your need higher, your body warming as heat flooded between your thighs. You were missing Bucky’s brand of arrogance, and it was all you could think about, the deep rasp of his voice in your ear while he pounded into you, the dirty and depraved things he’d say as his cock slid into your pussy, stretching you out just the way you needed.

You knew, without even touching yourself, that neither your fingers nor your toys would be enough for you that evening. You needed Bucky. Not John Walker, not any of the other guys on your roster—only Bucky Barnes could satisfy the need burning through your body.

So you rolled onto your knees and lowered your upper body to your bed, arching your ass high in the air. You positioned your phone and took a photo of your curved ass, barely clad in your panties, with the TV on your dresser also in frame. You took photos until you got one that you liked well enough and sent it to Bucky.

I’m bored, come chill.

Your text deliberately didn’t acknowledge Bucky’s question—and you weren’t asking him to come over, you were demanding it. You refused to beg a guy like Bucky Barnes, who refused to be exclusive with you, to come over and fuck you. 

But you knew the simple request would drag him away from whatever he was doing on that Saturday evening and get him to your apartment.

So you were surprised when he texted back and didn’t immediately say he was on his way.

You sure? If we end up fucking, I’m not wearing a condom.

The second you finished reading Bucky’s text, you shoved your face into one of your pillows and let out a frustrated groan. Of course Bucky hadn’t forgotten you were in the process of switching to a new birth control and you’d told him that if he was going to fuck you, he’d have to wear a condom.

He’d taken it better than you expected—especially for a guy who claimed sex with you “didn’t feel as good” when he wore a condom. He hadn’t thrown a tantrum or tried to talk you into fucking bare while it was unsafe. He’d seemed happy enough with handjobs and blowjobs, and had always reciprocated by getting you off with his fingers or mouth.

But you could tell from his text that he was reaching his limit and, truthfully, so were you. 

You missed the feeling of Bucky’s bare cock sliding into you, the heat of his stiff length and the drag of his veins against your sensitive inner walls. You were desperate to feel his cum flooding your cunt, filling you up with his seed while his balls twitched against your ass or clit, and he groaned low and deep in your ear. 

Bucky was the only man on your roster allowed to fuck you bare, and it was entirely contingent on him swearing on his mother’s grave that you were the only girl he fucked without a condom. As far as you knew, Bucky had kept his promise—which you knew because you made him get tested at the local clinic at least once a month. 

Still, you were only four weeks in to the 4-6 week period where your doctor had told you to use secondary methods of birth control while you were switching prescriptions. And you were so horny that you were probably ovulating—but you wanted Bucky so bad you could barely think. 

In fact, the thought of letting Bucky cum inside you when it wasn’t a safe time of the month, and was extra not safe because you were switching your birth control, turned you on so much, your whole body shivered with need. Something about the idea, how risky it was, how it might mean Bucky would knock you up, was too good to be ignored. 

You were so horny, you were seconds away from shoving a pillow between your thighs simply so you’d have something to hump against. That probably should’ve been a sign that you weren’t thinking clearly, but instead, it had you making up your mind.

You decided having Bucky over—having him fuck you raw—was worth the risk. In a brief moment of clarity, you reasoned with yourself that there was always the morning after pill. That was good enough for you.

So you texted him back.

I’m sure.

Bucky showed up to your apartment so soon after you texted him that you were sure that he either broke a number of traffic laws driving over from wherever he’d been, or he’d already been on his way. You loved both ideas, and didn’t want him to give you another reason, so you opted not to ask.

But for how fast he’d gotten to your place, he seemed content to take his time getting to the main event. When you opened the door, you’d been expecting (or, rather, hoping) he’d pounce on you. Instead, he pulled you into his arms and gave you a brief, chaste kiss, asking how your week was and how you’d been since he last saw you.

Then, as you entertained his desire for small talk, Bucky made himself comfortable, stretching out on your bed after kicking off his shoes and beckoning you to curl up with him. You did so, a little warily, and even put on a show you’d seen a million times since you figured Bucky would distract you from it soon enough. 

But he didn’t. 

You lasted all of five minutes before you were lifting your head from Bucky’s chest to look at him, surprised to find the guy you’d texted to come over and fuck you was seemingly engrossed in your show. You whined his name in a pitiful voice, “Bucky.” 

The arrogant smirk you’d pictured when he’d texted you earlier spread across his face and he squeezed you tighter in his hard, muscled arms. 

“Shhh, baby, watch your show,” he rumbled, rolling you onto your back so he was curled around your side, throwing a leg over yours and burying his scruffy face in your neck. “I’m just here to chill, right?” There was a teasing note in his voice that had you huffing out a frustrated sound.

“Bucky…” you grumbled, even as you shifted your head on your pillows to give him easier access to your neck. He rewarded you by kissing your soft skin, sending a tendril of heat curling down your spine and settling heavily between your thighs. “You know this isn’t what I meant when I told you to come over.” 

Bucky lifted himself up onto his forearm, hovering above you so he could stare down into your eyes. His arrogant smirk had slipped off his face, leaving a serious expression as he took in the pinched, frustrated look on yours. He seemed to come to some kind of decision as he stared at you.

“It’s not a safe time for you, right, baby?” he asked, each word said slowly, intentionally, another meaning laced within. “You don’t want me to tell you that I’m horny as fuck and the only thing I want is to bury my bare cock in you and cum in your unprotected pussy—you don’t want me to try to talk you into it, to coerce you, right, baby?”

At his filthy words, your heart thundered in your chest and your pulse thrummed between your thighs, and for a brief, blistering moment, you considered throwing a whole entire hissy fit because that’s not what you wanted. You wanted the opposite of what Bucky was saying—and then the deeper meaning in his words hit you. 

Bucky wasn’t really asking if you wanted him to be nice and respectful of the boundaries you’d set, even though you’d already essentially given him permission to ignore them. He was asking if you wanted to play along with the idea that you were reluctant to let him fuck you without a condom while you were at risk of getting knocked up.

“That’s not what you want, is it, baby?” Bucky rumbled, his gaze holding yours as he nodded his head slowly, the gesture so at odds with his words, it could only mean he was asking you the opposite of what he said.

You’d been eager for Bucky to fuck you—you were so horny, it was the only thing you could think about—but the opportunity of playing this game with him was too enticing to pass up. Pretending to be reluctant, pretending to slowly give in to Bucky’s whims when it was what you both really wanted, would only make the sex that much hotter. 

An excited smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, and you saw Bucky’s gaze drop to your lips, his own face flickering with elation as he took in your reaction. You waited until his eyes returned to yours before you answered him.

“Noooo, that’s definitely not what I want, daddy,” you whimpered huskily, the barest hint of sarcasm in your tone as you struggled to stop from smirking. Your head was nodding just as Bucky’s had, and he was the first to break, an eager grin spreading across his face. 

He ducked down and brushed another frustratingly brief kiss to your lips. “You got it, baby, no fucking tonight—just chilling,” he murmured, a teasing tone in his voice that had your body tingling with anticipation.

You were less surprised that time when Bucky snuggled back down on top of you, his mouth going back to your neck where he was working on sucking a hickey into the side of your throat.

Since you knew the game you were playing, it was a little easier to settle in and watch your show, all the while trying to forget the way your pussy was pulsing with need. Still, you wouldn’t have said it was easy to ignore the steady twitching of Bucky’s cock against your thigh as he hardened in his sweatpants.

It only got more difficult to keep your attention on your show when Bucky’s hand slid under your shirt, his fingers trailing idly over your stomach until he eventually reached your tits. He began kneading your soft flesh lazily, his fingers plucking teasingly at your nipples, while his mouth sucked on your neck. 

Despite how obvious it was that Bucky was taking his time, it wasn’t long before you were a wet, whimpering mess beneath him.

“Bucky, w-we shouldn’t fool around,” you murmured breathily, mouth tripping over the words as you voiced the exact opposite of what you wanted. It was like your lips didn’t want to play the game you’d started, but you were rewarded for their effort by his frustrated growl, which had you throbbing between your thighs.

“It’s fine, baby, we’re not doing anything we shouldn’t…” he rumbled against your neck, his teeth nipping at your sensitive skin and making you shiver. 

The word “yet” hung unspoken in what little space there was between your bodies, and the promise of it had you warming even more, pressing your thighs together against the ache pulsing in your core. “Bucky,” you whimpered his name, your hips twisting toward him like they had a mind of their own.

“Are ya getting wet, baby?” he asked teasingly in your ear, his fingers tripping down your body until they skimmed along the hem of your panties. All you could do was whine in response and Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, I bet you’re dripping for me.”

Your chest was already heaving with heavier breaths just from the way Bucky was teasing his fingers beneath the edge of your panties, taking his sweet time going any lower to where you really needed him. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, and your intention had been to shove his hand deeper into your panties so he’d finally touch your pussy, but instead he stopped.

“Don’t worry, baby, ‘m not gonna fuck you, no matter how wet your pretty little pussy is,” Bucky murmured in your ear, brushing a kiss to your cheek. 

Though his words might’ve sounded reassuring, his tone was a deliciously teasing rumble and you could feel his smirk against your cheek. Your body trembled, your thighs parting for Bucky of their own accord, which had him humming a pleased sound. 

“Good girl, just let me feel you.”

Bucky’s fingers finally dipped into your panties and slid down to your pussy, a breathy little moan bursting from your lips. The feel of his warm, skilled fingers slipping through your soaking wet folds, bumping against your clit before swirling around your aching, clenching hole, was almost too much. 

You had to bite your lip against the urge to beg Bucky to fuck you already, not wanting to ruin the game that was making everything hotter. But he seemed to lose himself for a moment, burying his face in your neck and groaning while his fingers slipped between your swollen and soppy lower lips.

“Fucking hell, baby, you’re drenched for me,” Bucky growled, his voice low and no longer teasing. His fingers were dipping shallowly into your hole and spreading your wetness around, making a mess of your pussy. “You feel so fucking ripe, I gotta feel it—gotta feel you against my cock.”

Bucky was already pushing your panties down your thighs, rising above you and tearing his shirt off over his head before tugging your own shirt from your body. 

At the same time, you were kicking your panties from around your ankles and spreading your legs, sitting up shove at the waistband of Bucky’s sweatpants. When his cock bounced free, you reached for his perfect length, saliva already pooling in your mouth as you gave his girth a reverent stroke.

But then Bucky was urging you back down, guiding your shoulders to the bed and covering your body with his own. You arched up into his warmth while he settled between your thighs, your fingers clinging to his sides.

His darkened eyes were fixed on the juncture of your legs, his fingers going back to playing through your wetness and spreading it around to make a mess of your pussy. Occasionally, he’d bump against your clit, which made your body jolt every time he brushed the needy bundle of nerves. 

Bucky felt so good, and you were so close to getting what you really wanted—his cock inside you—but you forced yourself to remember the game you were playing.

You grabbed Bucky’s face in both hands, tipping it up so you could catch his eye. There was an almost dazed look on his face, but he blinked and focused back on you.

“It isn’t a safe time of the month,” you said, as sternly as you could manage. But your breaths were coming too quickly for there to be much steel in your voice. Bucky’s thumb brushed over your clit purposefully and your hips bore down on his hand, your body begging for more as you whined, “You can’t fuck me bare, Bucky.” 

“I won’t, baby,” Bucky purred, wrapping the fingers that were sticky with your desire around the hard length of his cock. He chuckled when you whimpered at the loss of his touch, leaning down over you and brushing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Just let me rub against you—you’re so wet, it’ll feel so good. I won’t push inside your drippy little pussy, baby, I promise.”

You knew he was lying, and you knew Bucky knew you knew he was lying. For some reason, that made everything so much hotter. So did playing the reluctant participant, which was why you bit your lip with fake nervousness as you stared up at Bucky, your panting breaths adding even more uncertainty to your voice when you spoke.

“Oh-okay, daddy, you can rub against me—but no more.” 

The words were barely out of your mouth before Bucky was sliding his thick, hard cock between your pussy lips, making you moan and spread your legs wider, raising your knees toward your chest to give him all the access he needed. 

Bucky let out a groan and dropped down to cover you with his body, his arms digging beneath your back to hold you pinned tightly against his chest. Your sensitive nipples rubbed against him, teasing you relentlessly.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” Bucky rumbled, rocking his hips so his cock dragged between your swollen, dripping folds, rubbing against your clit and sending sparks of pleasure swirling through your body. “So wet… You’re making a fucking mess on my cock, baby.”

“Oh god,” you whimpered in Bucky’s ear, your body shuddering under the onslaught of blistering pleasure and aching emptiness in your core. 

You wrapped your arms around Bucky’s shoulders, hands digging into his soft brown hair and holding onto him while his hips kept rocking into the cradle of your body, his cock grinding against your clit until you were gushing with wetness all over his stiff length.

“Doesn’t it feel good, baby?” Bucky murmured in your ear, his voice sweetly entreating, like he was trying to convince you of something, though you were already very well aware that his hard shaft grinding into your dripping wet pussy felt better than it had any right. “You’re creaming all over daddy’s cock, baby—tell me how good it feels.”

“Nngh, so goooood,” you keened, hooking your ankles around the backs of Bucky’s thighs to get better leverage to grind against his hard length. You were caught between wanting more and wanting to keep grinding against him. “Your cock feels sooo good, daddy, so big and hard against my drippy pussy.”

“Fuck, ‘m so hard for you,” Bucky groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as he rutted into your soft, drenched folds with rough, punishing thrusts. “My dick’s throbbing for your cunt, baby, can you feel it?”

He pressed his shaft deep into your slit, the flared head of his cock bullying your clit, and you could feel it. You could feel the pulse in his hard length, joining the rhythm in your center. 

Your body reacted on instinct, your inner walls clenching hard around nothing while you whined his name, “Buckyyy.”

“I can feel you, baby,” Bucky rumbled, the teasing tone back in his voice. “I can feel your cunt mouthing at my cock.” 

Bucky’s words sounded so deliciously depraved that you wanted to turn your head and kiss him, to taste his debauchery straight from his tongue. You knew he had a filthy mouth, but his dirty talk was even hotter because of the game you were playing—and he just kept talking. 

“Feels like ya want me to fuck you, baby,” he cooed, lifting his head to speak directly in your ear. “Does your pretty little cunt wanna get fucked?”

It was on the tip of your tongue to scream, ‘Yes!’ You wanted to get fucked so bad. You practically desperate for Bucky to push inside you and impale you on his cock, to pump into your pussy bare and cum inside you. You managed to bite it back at the last second for the sake of the role you were playing, but you couldn’t get any other words out.

When you were quiet, save for your panting breaths while Bucky’s hips kept up their torturous rocking, he lifted himself, bracing on his forearms so he could hover above you and see your face. He raised an eyebrow in question, his body slowing its movement as his gaze raked over your face, uncertainty flickering in the depths of his blue eyes.

It was clear he was questioning whether you still wanted to play the game you’d both started, and the fact that he was taking the time to check in with you had your heart squeezing uncomfortably in your chest. 

It was an annoying reminder that Bucky wasn’t the kind of man to be selfish and self-absorbed in bed. Even if he was only your situationship, he made sure you were enjoying everything he was doing. 

And you wanted him to know you were enjoying yourself very much—and that you still wanted to play the role you’d been given.

“I want you so bad, Bucky.” The words tumbled from your lips as you gave in to the urge to assuage Bucky’s concern. “I want you so bad, but we shouldn’t,” you whined, pouting up at him as you slipped back into the game. 

The furrow of concern smoothed itself from Bucky’s brow and he smirked before ducking down to capture your lips in a quick kiss. 

His hips began rocking into you again, and he swallowed your responding moan greedily. He groaned himself when you used your ankles hooked around his thighs to grind back against him, your soft, wet pussy sliding against the rough ridge of his cock and making a mess of both of you.

“What if I…what if I just push the tip in?” Bucky rasped, pulling away and catching your eye, a smirk fluttered at the edges of his mouth, like he was trying to hold it back but was failing. “Just the tip—just let me feel you. Please, baby, I wanna feel you so fucking bad.” 

Bucky bowed his head, pressing sweet kisses to your collarbones, a barely restrained chuckle rumbling his chest. It seemed he’d lost the battle with being able to keep a straight face and you couldn’t blame him, your mouth was spread in a mischievous grin while your nails raked through his short brown hair.

“It’s not safe,” you reminded him, but there was an edge of glee in your tone. 

You couldn’t hide the fact that you were having fun with Bucky, playing out the little game he’d started. You were so close to getting what you wanted, that it only made it more difficult to pretend you didn’t want it. 

So when you murmured, “If you cum inside me, Bucky…” your voice was breathless with desire, and you had to cut yourself off to bite back the moan that wanted to be set free. 

Bucky smirked against your neck, his teeth nipping playfully at the mark he’d left on your throat before he responded. “It’s just the tip, baby, promise—I won’t cum inside you.”

Had it always been so easy for you to hear when Bucky was lying, or had he given up on the pretense of the game so much that it was even more obvious? 

The question flitted across your mind but didn’t stay long. You were too busy gasping a quick, “Ok,” your hips tilting, trying to catch the tip of Bucky’s cock in your hole on one of his grinding thrusts. However, it wasn’t until he pulled his hips back that the head of his hard length notched at your tight, clenching pussy.

Both of you held your breath when Bucky pushed inside. He stopped when just the tip was nestled inside the entrance of your warm, wet cunt. 

“Fuuuck,” Bucky groaned, pressing his face into the side of your neck, his hot breath fanning over the hollow of your throat and his scruff rasping against your sensitive skin. “You’re so fucking warm, baby,” he rumbled into your neck, the sensation of his mouth against your throat making you shiver all over. “Gotta do it again.”

His muttered words were your only warning before his hips reared back, the broad tip of his cock pulling free from your grasping hole. A tortured whimper slipped from your mouth before you could stop it, and Bucky chuckled as he slid back inside you, your pitiful sound dissolving into a moan when the head of his cock popped into your cunt.

“Yeah, that feels good, doesn’t it?” Bucky crooned in your ear, doing it again, slower that time, making you feel every tiny bit of his tip pushing into your weeping hole. “My cock sliding into your drippy little cunt—you’re so fucking wet for me, aren’t you, baby?”

“Yes, Bucky, so wet for you,” you echoed, unable to do more when all your focus was on not impaling yourself on Bucky’s cock. Your body squirmed beneath his larger form, one of Bucky’s big hands pressing down on your hip like he knew you were barely holding back from pushing yourself down on his cock.

“It would be so easy for me to slide all the way inside, don’t ya think, baby?” Bucky purred in a teasing tone, his hips rocking forward until he’d pushed another inch deeper before pulling back so only the tip was inside you again.

Just that little tease had you moaning mindlessly beneath Bucky, tears of desire and frustration springing to your eyes. 

Your arms wrapped tightly around Bucky’s shoulders and your legs hooked around the backs of his thighs, trying to pull him in deeper. You needed more, to hell with the game you’d been playing. You needed him inside you already. 

“Bucky, please,” you begged on a sob, pressing your face into his cheek.

“I can feel your cunt gripping me, baby, sucking on me—she wants me to push deeper,” Bucky rumbled in your ear, a gruffness to his voice that told you he was reaching the limit of his patience with the game as well. 

In that moment, you’d have done anything to get Bucky to fuck you properly, but before you could speak, he went on. 

“Do you want it, baby?” he asked, his voice rough as crushed rock, his own breaths hot and heavy against your skin. “Want my cock buried deep inside you, filling you up and fucking you hard?”

“Yes, Bucky, please,” you gasped, your hands diving into his hair and pulling his head up so you could look him in the eye. You had to blink the tears from your eyes to do it, but you didn’t want there to be any confusion about what you wanted. “Fuck me, daddy, please!”

A slow, depraved grin spread across Bucky’s face as his eyes roved over your tear-stained cheeks. You felt the tip of his cock twitch inside you, and your body gave an answering clench, like it was begging him to slide inside. But Bucky seemed happy to let his eyes wander over your face, relishing the sight of you crying and begging him to fuck you. 

It felt like a small eternity before his gaze met yours again and he seemed ready to give you what you wanted. 

“But don’t cum inside you, right, baby?” Bucky asked, a devious tone in his voice. His hips pulled back and thrust forward slowly, pushing his big cock inside you at a torturous pace. Bucky’s grin was teasing as he went on, murmuring, “Wouldn’t want daddy knocking you up, right, baby?” 

At Bucky’s words, something inside you snapped. Your mind went blank and your body moved on its own, your legs hiking up Bucky’s sides to wrap tightly around his lower back. Your heels dug into his firm ass and you whined loudly until he let you pull him deeper inside you.

Bucky’s cock impaled you with one thrust, a pleasured grunt slipping from his mouth, half-muffled against your neck. He filled you up all the way to the root of his thick cock and you moaned, long and loud in his ear. 

You finally got what you wanted. Finally, you were full of his cock.

Bucky was buried so deep inside you that you could feel his balls pressed against your ass—his big, heavy balls, full of the seed you desperately wanted him to pump inside you. The desire left you dizzy and dazed, your body thrumming with a need to be filled, to be knocked up, to be bred by your situationship.

“Breed me, Bucky,” you whispered breathlessly in his ear. 

He stilled for a very brief second, but then he was groaning obscenely, sucking hard on the hickey he’d already left. Whether it was a reward or a punishment, you didn’t know—nor did you care.

“Oh fuck,” Bucky grunted, his legs shifting on your bed and repositioning himself to fight against the stranglehold you had on his body. 

He pushed up onto his forearms so he could hover above you, his eyes raking over your face as he rolled his hips to fuck you in hard, shallow thrusts that had your lips parting, punched-out whines slipping from your mouth. 

You were so consumed in basking in your pleasure that it took you a moment to realize Bucky had gone quiet—quieter than he normally was when he was fucking you. It took another moment for you to blink your vision back into focus and when you did, you sucked in a sharp breath at the look of pure, depraved desire on Bucky’s face. 

“Do you have something you want to tell me, baby?” he asked dryly, lifting an eyebrow in question. Before you could answer, he ducked down and captured your lips in a searing kiss, the heat of his tongue flicking into your mouth making you moan. “Does my girl have a breeding kink she failed to tell me about?” he asked in a teasing tone, plunging his cock deep into your pussy and grinding hard against a spot inside you that had you seeing stars.

“Not your girl,” you managed to gasp, even through the pleasure. 

A low growl rumbled in Bucky’s chest, but it cut off abruptly. It seemed your situationship didn’t like being reminded that he wasn’t the only one who fucked you. Bucky nipped at your bottom lip, biting it a little harshly, making your pussy clench around his cock as you whined through the brief sting.  

“Does John fucking Walker know about your breeding kink?” Bucky seethed, his voice suddenly furious. His anger was reflected in the way he picked up the pace of his hips, fucking you in rough, hard thrusts that had you crying out and clinging to his shoulders, your nails sinking deep into his golden skin. “Do you let John fucking Walker fuck you raw—fucking tell me, baby.”

“No,” you cried, tears of pleasure slipping from your eyes and trailing down your temples into your hair. Bucky’s lips found the salty tears and he kissed them from your skin, making your heart and pussy clench simultaneously. “You’re the only one allowed to fuck me bare, Bucky, you know that.” 

“That’s fucking right,” he growled, punctuating each of his words with brutal thrusts. “I’m the only man who fucks this pussy raw,” he went on in a gruff, furious voice, raising up onto his arms so he could look you in the eye. “I’m the only man who cums inside this cunt, who fills you up until you’re leaking my seed all down your pretty thighs—I’m the only man who breeds you, isn’t that right, baby?”

“Yes—yes, Bucky, only you,” you cried, squirming beneath him, using your ankles hooked around his thighs to meet Bucky’s thrusts. It didn’t even occur to you to fight him on his possessive questions—he was right. He was the only one allowed to do all those things. “Only you, only you—please, I need you to breed me Bucky!”

You were getting close, but before you could tumble over the edge of your release, Bucky sat up, breaking the hold of your arms as he pushed up onto his knees. You let out a frustrated wail, but stopped short at the expression on Bucky’s face.

The look in his eye was wild, nearly feral. His hands were rough and possessive when he grabbed your plush thighs, pushing them up toward your chest until you were folded in half. His cock was still inside you, but not nearly as deep as you wanted it in the position Bucky was in. 

Your hips squirmed, a whine working its way up your throat before spilling free.

Bucky leaned back down on top of you, pinning your legs to your chest and your body to the bed as his cock slid deeper until you were so full of him, you swore you could feel him in womb—even though you knew that was impossible. 

He stayed like that, buried inside you, his cock stretching out your tight cunt while he rocked his hips, grinding deeper into you. All the while, he stared at you, his gaze glittering with the wildness that spoke of a deep-rooted possessiveness, but when he spoke, his voice was deceptively sweet.

“You want daddy to breed you, baby?” Bucky cooed in your ear, his mouth pressing wet, messy kisses to your cheek and jaw. “You knew it wasn’t a safe time of the month, and you let me fuck you raw anyway—such a silly little cumslut pretending you didn’t want it, but you do, right, baby?”

All you could manage was a punched-out, “Uh huh,” Bucky’s heavy weight pressing the air from your lungs while he crushed you to the bed. He shifted a little, so you could breathe, but it didn’t seem to matter that you’d responded, because he went on as if he hadn’t even heard you.

“You wanna feel my fat cock bruising your cervix, baby?” he huffed, pausing only to nip at the lobe of your ear with his teeth, making you clench hard around his cock. His next words came out on a filthy groan, pouring into your ear and settling deep in your mind. “Ya want me to flood your fertile little cunt with my seed and breed you—is that it?” 

You were half feral yourself with desire, with your need to cum—with your need to feel him cum inside you—and you weren’t sure if Bucky was checking in with you, or if he was getting off on teasing you, but you rushed to answer, telling him the truth.

“God, Bucky, yes—please,” you whined, your fingers digging into his soft hair and towing his head until your mouth found his, kissing him messily while he kept fucking you in hard, rough thrusts. “Fill me up with your cum, daddy, make me your pretty little cumdump, please, I want it—I need it!” you cried into Bucky’s mouth, your words half muffled because neither of you wanted to pull away. 

“Jesus fucking christ, baby,” Bucky grunted, his hot breath panting past your lips. You felt his mouth curve into a sly smirk. “First you don’t want me to fuck you because it isn’t safe,” he murmured in a teasing tone. “And now you want me to breed your little pussy full of cum—which is it, baby, d’you want me to pull out or cum inside your unprotected cunt?”

A mindless moan slipped from your lips at his filthy question, your mind going entirely blank for a split second. All you could do was feel—Bucky’s thick cock pounding into your pussy, the tip hitting a spot inside you that felt so good, you never wanted him to stop. It was too good, you didn’t want him to pull out, even if it would’ve been the smart decision.

“Breed me, daddy,” you begged in a throaty, desperate voice. “Breed me, cum inside me—please, please, please!”

“Fuck,” Bucky cursed, but he sounded pleased, too. “I’m so fucking close, baby, so close to draining my balls in your tight little cunt.” 

His body shifted and then he was pounding into you in a new, better angle, making you feel impossibly good as you careened toward the edge of your release. 

“Tell me, baby,” he rasped, his forehead pressed to yours. “Tell me you never let John fucking Walker cum inside you—tell me I’m the only man allowed to breed you.”

You whined, well aware you’d already told him—and he already knew he was the only one allowed to cum inside you. But it fed the possessiveness Bucky felt, and it felt good to give him that, so you did. 

“You’re the only one,” you promised in a thready voice, your pleasure dripping from every word. “The only man allowed to cum inside me—you’re the only man allowed to breed me, daddy!”

Bucky captured your mouth in a dominating kiss, his tongue plunging past your lips like he was desperate to fuck as many of your holes at the same time as possible. You moaned into his mouth, gripping his face and holding him close while you sucked on his tongue, your nails raking through the scruff on his jaw, both of you groaning at how good the other felt.

Finally, Bucky managed to wrench himself away from your clinging grip and his face hovered above yours, a devious smirk on his plump lips.

“Ya know I heard,” he started, his voice a little breathless and gruff, the deep sound of it singing through your body and making you shiver as your pussy pulsed around his thrusting cock. “If you cum at the same time as me, you’re more likely to get knocked up.” 

A violent shiver raced down your spine and your pussy clenched hard around Bucky’s cock. His words were going to be the end of you, you just knew it, but what a glorious end it would be.

Bucky grinned at your body’s reaction, looking far too pleased with himself, though you were too far gone in your pleasure to try to wipe that smirk off his face. Not that he gave you much opportunity, ducking down to murmur in your ear.

“Rub your clit, baby, I wanna feel you cumming on my cock while I’m knocking you up.”

“Oh my god, Bucky,” you whimpered pleasure spiraling through you at his words, but you did as he said. 

You slipped your hand between your bodies, finding your clit messy and sticky with your desire, your fingertips brushing the thick shaft of Bucky’s cock as he fucked you. Rubbing your clit in ruthless little circles, your body pulled tight.

“Bucky, I’m gonna cum—don’t stop!”

Your mouth dropped open in a silent scream as the coiled tension in your body finally shattered, and you came with a strangled cry, pleasure consuming your mind and body. 

Your release washed over you in waves of bliss that were so intense, you could feel your arms and legs trembling, your cunt clenching hard around Bucky’s thick length that was still plunging deep into your grasping channel.

“That’s it, baby, cum on daddy’s cock,” Bucky rasped, brushing sloppy kisses to your face as he rutted into you, his thrusts turning wild and rough. “You feel so fucking good, baby, you’re doing so good for me, gonna make me a daddy for real, baby—Jesus fuck.” 

Bucky cut himself off on a groan, his hips pressing flush to the backs of your thighs, his cock impaled to the hilt in your still fluttering cunt. He came with a loud moan, his cock twitching inside you as he shot rope after rope of cum into your pussy. Your inner walls milked every last drop of seed from his balls while he painted the inside of you white.

When Bucky was finally spent, he collapsed on top of you, your bodies easing into a more comfortable position. He lay on top of you in the cradle of your thighs, his palms smoothing over your hips and sides while your fingers stroked idly through his soft hair. You made small sounds of contentment, and an answering, pleased rumble, sounded in his chest. 

Finally, just when it was beginning to get uncomfortable bearing so much of Bucky’s weight, he heaved himself up onto his knees and carefully slid his cock from your thoroughly used pussy. You watched him, his gaze focused on the slit between your thighs, and you saw the moment his blue eyes darkened when his cum started dripping out of you.

You reached between you thighs, which were splayed over his his spread knees, to clean up the cum before it made a mess of your bedsheets, but Bucky knocked your hand away. He fished through the mussed up bedding until he found his discarded sweatpants and pulled his phone from the pocket. 

Your body was limp with sated pleasure, and he’d taken enough post-sex photos of you, that you let Bucky arrange you how he wanted. You even held your legs open for him so he could position his phone above your pussy and take a couple close-up photos of his cum spilling out of your pussy. Then he pulled his phone back, so your whole body was in the shot.

“Say, ‘I’m gonna be a mommy,’ baby,” Bucky ordered, a lazy grin on his face.

Between your thighs, your pussy pulsed at the words, which sounded so innocent and so filthy at the same time. Heat filled your cheeks and you turned your head to the side, trying to bury your face in a pillow while you whined, “Bucky.” 

You knew it was silly to be shy about saying something so innocuous, especially after everything you and Bucky had just said and done, but the moment was over. You didn’t normally have such a breeding kink, but you’d been so horny and it had made you so hot to talk about getting bred while Bucky was inside you. 

However, it felt like a whole other thing to play into it when the heat of the moment had passed. It felt like the kind of thing boyfriends and girlfriends did, and you knew better than to tread into that territory. 

Still, your body warmed at the idea of looking into Bucky’s camera and saying those words…

“Baby,” Bucky crooned, leaning over you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “C’mon, I know you wanna,” he murmured in your ear, his mouth brushing butterfly kisses along your jaw. “You don’t have to be shy with me, baby, I know you’re a dirty little breeding slut desperate to be daddy’s good little cumdump.”

“Jesus Christ, Bucky,” you groaned, but you were smiling when you turned your head and met his mouth for a kiss. 

Bucky let you kiss him for a few moments before he pulled away and sat up, holding his camera in position while he raised his eyebrows at you in an expectant expression.

“I’m gonna be a mommy,” you mumbled, pouting up at the camera while Bucky snapped a few photos. It wasn’t long before you were smiling and preening for the camera, sticking your tits out and holding your legs even wider for Bucky.

“Good girl,” he murmured, catching your eye as he lowered his phone. He was giving you a pleased smirk, and you smiled up at him in return.

Bucky gently moved your legs from around his waist and flopped down on the bed beside you, swiping through the photos he’d taken of his cum leaking out of your pussy while you curled around his bicep. You had to admit, they looked hot—even the ones of you pouting and mumbling up at him.

Seeing yourself like that was turning you on and you were just about to shimmy down Bucky’s body and lick his cock clean until he was hard again when he spoke, derailing your dirty thoughts.

“I’ll pick up the morning after pill for you before I head home,” he rumbled absentmindedly, still focused more on his phone. You could see him favoriting some of the photos he’d taken and saving them to a separate folder. “And if you are knocked up, I’ll pay to have it taken care of—but don’t expect me to cuddle you and do boyfriend shit after.”

For a moment, you restrained the urge to smack Bucky in the face with a pillow. And then you thought, why not? You weren’t his girlfriend, you didn’t need to play nice. 

So you grabbed the pillow behind your head and brought it down right on Bucky’s face. He let out a satisfying, startled ‘oomph’ sound, and you chuckled as you rolled out of bed. 

“Gee, thanks,” you shot over your shoulder sarcastically as you padded toward the bathroom, intent on cleaning Bucky’s cum from between your thighs. 

But then you had an evil thought and a wicked smirk tugged at the corners of your lips. You wiped that look off your face, though, as you turned and leaned against your doorway, striking a casual pose.

“Maybe if I’m knocked up, I’ll just let John fuck me bare and tell him it’s his,” you said, giving a carefree little shrug while trying not to make it obvious how close you were watching Bucky.

You were delighted when his head snapped toward you, his gaze finally pulling away from his phone as his brows lowered into a glare. His soft mouth turned down at the corners, a furious frown darkening his face.

“D’you think John would offer to marry me?” you asked, ignoring Bucky’s reaction and tapping your chin with one finger like you were thinking. “He strikes me as the type of man who’d want to make an ‘honest woman’ out of me.” You couldn’t hold in your eye roll, even as you were trying to torture Bucky with the possibility of you marrying John fucking Walker.

In an instant, Bucky was up and off the bed, pinning you to the doorframe of your room with every inch of his big, strong body pressed against yours. You only had time to gasp while Bucky quickly gathered your wrists in one hand and pinned them above your head. His hardening cock was trapped against your belly, the stickiness of both your releases rubbing into your skin.

“You’re not marrying John fucking Walker, baby,” Bucky growled while he loomed over you. He was so close, you had to tilt your head back to look up at him, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smirking. “And you’re certainly not raising my kid with Walker’s last name.” 

At that, you had to laugh. But when you saw how serious Bucky still looked, you realized he didn’t realize you were just trying to get a rise out of him. Something about the thought of you marrying John Walker had clearly made all rational thought completely abandon Bucky in that moment. 

Instead of thinking too hard about Bucky’s reaction, you explained yourself to him.

“Bucky, it was a joke,” you wheezed, giving him an incredulous look. “Of course I’m not gonna marry John.”

Bucky’s eyes flitted back and forth between yours, like he was checking to make sure you were being honest. He must’ve decided you were because he blew out a breath and closed his eyes, his forehead falling to yours. 

“Jesus, baby, you drive me fucking wild sometimes,” he rumbled, but there was humor in his tone, albeit reluctant.

A breathless laugh slipped from your lips and you leaned back against the doorframe, hiking your leg up around Bucky’s waist. He caught it in his free hand, the movement pressing his thickening cock between your thighs, making both of you groan.

“I think you should show me exactly how wild I make you,” you purred, rocking your hips against his stiff length, coating him in the mixture of your desire and his cum still leaking out of you. 

Bucky growled, his eyes flying open as he stared at you and worked his cock against your pussy. 

“Careful what you ask for, baby,” he rumbled, his tone a delicious taunt that had your toes curling against the floorboards and your hips tilting so you could rub your clit against his hard shaft. “Or you’re gonna get another load pumped into your tight, unprotected little cunt.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, daddy,” you sassed, smirking up at Bucky and watching as his eyes darkened with desire.

In a flash, Bucky dropped your leg and let go of your wrists, spinning you around to face the doorframe and yanking your hips toward his lap with a rough, possessive grip on your body. Your upper body fell forward and your hands clung to the doorframe, nails digging into the wood when Bucky entered you in a swift, hard thrust.

Bucky fucked you in the doorway of your bedroom, making you promise yet again that you’d never let John Walker fuck you without a condom before emptying a second load inside you.

After, he followed you to the bathroom, hopping in the shower with you where he drained what little cum was left in his balls inside your pussy before helping you clean up—though you suspected he only offered to help so he could finger his cum deeper into your cunt under the pretense of cleaning you.

When you were both finally, finally sated, you collapsed into your bed together. Your mind was blissfully blank and your body deliciously sore as you cuddled together. Bucky dozed for a bit, his head on your chest while you carded your fingers through his hair and watched your show.

After a while, Bucky roused and got dressed, going out to get you the morning after pill from the nearest drug store, just like he’d said he would. 

He also brought you back your favorite sports drink and snacks, explaining in a gruff voice that he’d read the potential side effects of the pill on the box and wanted you to be prepared. You refused to feel any type of way about that.

Then Bucky kissed you and left to head home.

All things considered, it was a good thing your new birth control had taken effect, or the morning after pill had worked, and you didn’t get pregnant despite the evening you’d had with Bucky. It was a relief when you were able to tell him that your risky night hadn’t led to any of the consequences the both of you had willfully ignored.

When you texted him to tell him you’d gotten your period, he responded quickly, messaging twice in quick succession. The first text made you roll your eyes, because you thought that was all he’d have to say. 

Good.

But then you saw the second message, and you could imagine the arrogant smirk on Bucky Barnes’ ridiculously handsome face and the playful glint of mischief in his eye when he’d sent it.

It made you smile, and you had to bite your lip against a giggle, forcefully reminding yourself that he was just a situationship.

Let me know when you wanna play ‘just the tip’ to ‘breed me, daddy’ again, baby.

you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series masterlist

[starkwlkr]

she’s always a woman | max verstappen

an: this fic is a special birthday fic for my lovely friend anto!! happy birthday love!! hope you enjoy your special day <3 also let’s just pretend that lewis wasn’t battling max for the championship in 2021 instead it’s max and the reader

tw: jos mention and narcissistic mother

Max couldn’t really remember why your friendship ended. He was always there when you needed a shoulder to cry on, when you had a bad race and needed some support, etc. He was always there so when you stopped talking to him, he was confused and hurt.

KARTING DAYS

At the time, the boys you raced against hated being beat by a girl. It was humiliating! A girl was faster than them? No way! But when Max Verstappen saw how fast you were, he was amazed. You made it look so easy.

“How many trophies do you have now?” Seven year old Max asked you as you two shared a bag of gummy bears, your favorite snack.

“I haven’t counted. What about you?” You questioned.

“I haven’t counted either.” He replied.

It was a long day of practice and all Max wanted to do was spend time with you and eat gummy bears. He noticed how you only ate certain colors like red, blue, orange and yellow. He asked why only those colors and your response was that those colors were your favorites, all the other colors looked unappetizing.

Spending time with you was something Max loved about karting. Most of the boys you competed with would rather lose than hang out with a girl, but not Max. He liked being around you. And it seemed like you liked having Max around too so it made no sense to Max why you stopped talking to him.

As time went on, Jos Verstappen kept a close eye on you. He certainly didn’t want some girl distracting his son. He kept telling Max how much of a bad influence you were, but of course Max didn’t listen. Why would he? He liked you and you liked him.

Unlike Max, your mother’s words went to your head.

“He’s just like the other boys, sweetheart. When you least expect it, he’s going to leave you heartbroken.” Your mother told you one day after another successful win. She watched the way Max stood next to you on the podium and clapped for you.

“But he’s my friend.” You said lowly.

“What did I say about this sport? You are not here to make friends, they are not your friends and neither is he. He’s competition and if you want to keep winning then you need to keep away from that boy!”

The next time Max saw you, he was the heartbroken one. Every time he kept trying to get your attention, you ignored him and turned the other way.

Did I do something wrong? Maybe I forgot her birthday? No, it was a month ago and we ate chocolate cake together.

All day Max was wondering what he did to make you upset. He had even brought a tiny bag with only red, blue, orange and yellow gummy bears for you. He had spent an hour picking out your favorite gummy bears and now you weren’t talking to him. . .

Little Max Verstappen had his first heartbreak at the hands of his first love.

The next day he figured you would start talking to him, but it was like he didn’t even exist in your world. He was starting to lose hope.

“Good, now you won’t have any distractions.” Jos told him after Max mentioned how you had stopped talking to him.

“But she wasn’t!”

“She was.” Jos confirmed.

Max stayed quiet. He knew it was no use trying to argue with his father.

As you both grew up, Max was beside you at every podium even if you weren’t on speaking terms. He hoped that maybe one day you would speak to him. He also kept a plastic bag in his bag with your favorite gummy bears to share with you in case that day ever came.

2021 SEASON

Max was both nervous and excited for the last few races of the season. Both you and him were battling for the championship. It was like a dream come true for him, both of you in Formula 1 and now you’re both in the championship picture. He wouldn’t have it any other way. To Max, it would’ve been better if you could at least acknowledge him.

It was after the Brazilian Grand Prix when Max wanted to congratulate you on your win, but had to wait until you finished with your interviews. He was eager to talk to you.

The post-race interviews were a whirlwind, but the moment that caught your attention was when a reporter, eager for a headline, asked you about Max Verstappen.

“We've heard that you and Max were childhood friends. What’s the story there? You two seem to be fierce competitors now. Was there any friendship left between you, or is it all business these days?"

Your smile tightened. It was the last thing you wanted to discuss, but you were a professional, and you knew better than to let your personal life spill over into the press room. Your gaze flicked to the corner where Max was conducting his own interviews, but you quickly refocused on the question.

“Max and I... we were friends, sure," you said coolly, your voice steady but your tone sharp, almost as if you were trying to distance yourself from the memory. "But that was a long time ago. I don’t really have time for friendships anymore. Racing’s my focus. It always has been."

“But you were so close back then," the reporter pressed. "Is it hard to battle him for the title, given your history?"

You shrugged, trying to maintain your composure. "Racing's not about who you used to be friends with. It’s about who’s the best right now. And I’m focused on being the best."

“So, no hard feelings?" he asked, genuinely curious.

You didn’t miss a beat. "No time for feelings," you replied, your lips curling into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "Just results."

After finishing all your interviews, you walked back to your driver’s room. All you wanted was to lay down and take a much needed nap, but the sweet voice of a Dutchman stopped you. It had been years since you heard Max say your name.

Before you could say anything, Max stood up abruptly and walked toward you, his stride purposeful. He reached out, grabbing your arm with a firm grip, pulling you into your room without a word.

“Let go of me, Max," you whispered, but your voice cracked.

“No," he said simply, his tone rough, but his eyes were soft—something in them that you hadn’t seen in years. "I’m not letting you walk away again."

Your heart skipped a beat. His eyes searched yours, that fierce intensity you remembered from your childhood still present, though now mixed with something else—pain, perhaps. The unspoken hurt you both carried for so long hung between you two.

“Max," you began, but he cut you off.

“Why did you stop talking to me?" His voice was quieter now, but the question hung in the air, sharp and urgent. “Everyday i asked myself ‘did I do something wrong? Did I say something that hurt her?’ What is is? Why?”

Your throat tightened. You took a shaky breath, your eyes lowering to the floor. "You were my competition," you muttered. "And my mother… she made it clear. She said you would take everything from me. That I needed to stop talking to you or I’d lose everything." Your chest constricted, and you felt a sudden wave of bitterness rise within you. "She said you were nothing more than a threat to my future, and I had to focus—focus on winning.” It pained you to even remember all the talks your mother had with you about Max.

Max stared at you for a moment, taking in your words. The silence that followed was thick, the air between them charged with everything unspoken. Then, slowly, he stepped closer.

“I never wanted to take anything from you." His eyes were filled with a quiet sincerity that made your stomach twist. "I never asked for this. I never asked for us to be enemies."

Your breath hitched as a knot formed in your chest. You stepped back, your hands trembling. "But that’s what she wanted. She wanted me to beat you, to prove I was better. To make sure you didn’t have what I could have." Your voice cracked, the words tumbling out in a flood of emotion you had long kept hidden. "I—"

Your words faltered as you felt the familiar sting of tears threatening to fall. You tried to hold them back, but the weight of it all—the pressure, the competition, the years of silence—was too much. You turned away, pressing your palms to your face, feeling the dam break inside you.

Max didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, his arms enveloping you in an instant. You stiffened at first, surprised by the warmth and steadiness of his embrace. For a moment, you couldn’t breathe, couldn't think. But then, something inside you snapped, and you collapsed into him, your body shaking as the tears finally came.

Max didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. He just held you, his hand gently rubbing your back, grounding you in the moment.

"I’m sorry," you whispered between sobs. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You kept repeating.

His grip tightened ever so slightly, as if offering you the comfort and understanding you had been denied for so long. "You didn’t deserve any of that." You clung to him, unable to stop the flood of emotions that had been building for years.

Eventually, the tears slowed, and the sobs turned into shallow breaths. Max didn’t let go. He stayed, a quiet anchor, as if he would hold you for as long as you needed.

When you finally pulled back, your eyes were swollen, your makeup smudged, but you felt something lighter—something like relief, like a door you hadn’t realized was closed had finally opened.

“Does your dad know you’re here?” You wiped away the tears.

“I don’t really care about him right now,” Max responded. He took your hand and brought it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “You need me right now.”

“Max, I don’t want you to get in trouble. You need to leave.”

“I’m a grown man. He can’t tell me who I can and any talk to.” He said.

“Then . . . I don’t care what my mother says either,” You declared. “You know, she said we couldn’t talk anymore because you were my competition. That I shouldn’t get too close to you. She thought it would make me weak."

“Your mom never understood that... you’re not my competition. You never were. You were my best friend. And I . . . I miss that.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Max.”

QATAR

The camera lights flickered on, and the usual hum of the media circus surrounded Max Verstappen as he sat in front of the press. Another victory under his belt, but the atmosphere in the room felt different today—slightly more tense than usual. The 2021 season was in full swing, and the rivalry between Max and his childhood best friend and fellow F1 driver, had become one of the most talked-about stories of the year.

“Max, earlier this week, someone that you knew quite well was quoted saying, ‘No time for feelings, just results,’ when talking about your past friendship. Given the intensity of your current rivalry, how do you feel about that statement?”

He took a breath and leaned forward, his voice steady but laced with an undeniable undercurrent of emotion.

“she’s one of the most focused and driven people I know. I don’t think anyone truly understands what it’s like to be in her head—how much racing means to her. She’s an artist, in every sense of the word, when it comes to driving. She doesn’t do anything halfway.”

A brief silence fell over the room. Max seemed to weigh his next words carefully.

“We’ve both been through a lot over the years, and yeah . . . I get why she said what she did. This sport can make you say things you don’t always mean. It can make you choose things—like cutting ties with people who used to be your family, just so you can win. But trust me, it’s not easy for her. Or for me.”

His voice softened slightly, the edge of competition giving way to something more genuine—something rooted in your shared history.

“She’s not the kind of person to just forget about things or people. I know her better than anyone,” He continued. It was as if he could talk about you all day and never get bored. “As for the championship, yeah, It’s just the way it is. But that doesn’t change the fact that I respect her more than anyone. She’s a hell of a driver, and I know what she’s capable of.”

Max leaned back slightly, the cool exterior of the driver once again overtaking his emotions. He was a fighter. And this season, he wasn’t just fighting for the title.

ABU DHABI

It had been weeks since your last conversation with Max, but occasionally you would sneak glances at each other. Maybe even smile at him, which caused the media to wonder if your friendship had finally been restored.

The paddock was bustling with the usual pre-race energy—team members darting around, engineers checking telemetry, and drivers preparing for what would be a pivotal race. But Max Verstappen was not focused on the usual chaos. He was standing in front of your motorhome, his jaw clenched as he faced a woman who had been an obstacle in his life for far too long: you mother.

All he wanted to do before the race was to wish you good luck but he had one problem that came in the form of your mother.

“This is a pivotal moment for her career, Max. The championship is on the line. She needs to focus.” Your mother spoke.

Max’s eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t need you to tell her how to focus. She’s not a child anymore. She’s not your puppet.”

She smirked, her gaze calculating. “Oh, I know exactly how to handle her. You, on the other hand, have always been a distraction. Just like you were when you were kids. I told her back then that you were competition. And look where we are now—competing for the championship.”

Max took a step forward, his voice low but sharp. “You don’t get to control her anymore. She doesn’t deserve the way you treated her. She never did. She’s not some tool for you to use to further your own agenda. She’s a person. A damn good one, too.”

Your mother raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smug grin. “And now you think you have feelings for her? After all these years? You’re wasting your time, Max.

Max’s chest tightened, a sudden rush of frustration coursing through him. He had always felt something for you—something deep and complicated—but he hadn’t realized how much until he saw you again. How could he not? The way you made him laugh, the way you understood him in a way no one else did. The way your presence grounded him when the world felt chaotic.

“I’m not wasting my time,” Max snapped, his voice rising. He was no longer just angry; there was something more vulnerable beneath his words. “I... I care about her. More than you’ll ever understand. And I’m not going to just stand by and watch you tear her down again.”

Her eyes widened, the smugness on her face faltering for just a moment. She hadn’t expected that. But she quickly recovered, her icy demeanor back in place. “You think you can just waltz in and change everything, Max? You think she’s going to forget the way I’ve always looked out for her?”

Max’s pulse was racing now. “You’ve never looked out for her. You’ve held her back. You’ve made her feel like she couldn’t trust herself. Do you know how many times she’s questioned her worth because of you?”

Before your mother could reply, Max spoke again. “If you think for a second that I’m going to back off now, you’re wrong.”

Your mother glared at the Dutchman. “I’ve spent years in Formula 1, fighting for every ounce of respect, and now I’m fighting for her, too. And I’m not letting anyone—least of all you—tell me what I can or can’t feel about her.”

His words hung in the air between them, the weight of them settling in. He turned to leave, but paused at the door of your motorhome, looking back one last time.

“Tell her,” Max said, softer now, “Tell her I’ll be waiting at the finish line. I’ll always be waiting.”

Maybe your mother would pass on the message, maybe not. Either way, Max would still be waiting for you.

The roar of the crowd still echoes in the distance, but it’s muffled, almost surreal, as you stand behind the barriers, your helmet under your arm, heart still racing from the intensity of the race. The buzz of the paddock feels far away, and your body is heavy with exhaustion and disappointment. You finished second—close, but not close enough. Max had done it. He’d won the championship, after all the drama and all the battles that had led them to this final, decisive moment.

You lift your eyes and see him, standing by his car. Max, in his usual composed way, looking like he belongs there, like he's always belonged there, standing among the team and the media, all his focus, all his attention fixed on you. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips when he spots you, but it’s the way he’s standing, waiting, that hits you. Like he said he would.

You hesitate for a moment, thinking about your mother’s words, about everything that has always been said about Max—his arrogance, his rivalry, the fact that he’s always been competition. But this, here, this feels like something different. He’s not the enemy anymore. At least, not in the way they used to think of each other.

You take a breath, and then, almost instinctively, you walk toward him. As you step closer, you hear the whisper of her mother’s voice in the back of your mind, a warning you’ve heard so many times before. Stay focused. Don’t let him distract you. He’s your competition, not your friend.

But your steps don’t falter. You reach him, and when you do, you look up at him, your gaze soft, not the hardened competitive stare it once was. Max’s grin deepens, though it’s filled with something almost bittersweet.

“I heard you were waiting for me,” You said, the words slipping out before you can stop them. Your voice is steady, but there’s a touch of vulnerability in it, something you can’t quite mask.

Max’s eyes soften, and for a moment, it feels like time pauses. He looks at you as if he’s not seeing the driver, the fierce competitor, but the girl he used to know—the one he used to race against in karting, the one who once shared the same dream, the one who still, in some ways, understands him better than anyone else.

“I told you I would,” he replies quietly, his voice low and calm. “I wasn’t going anywhere.”

Your mind flashes back to the words he said to your mother, the promise he made—I’ll always be waiting.

“You won. Congratulations.”

Max’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s a certain warmth in the way he looks at you, a quiet understanding that goes beyond just racing. He takes a step closer, his voice a little softer now. “You’re better than you think. I have a feeling you’ll take it away from me next year.”

You shake your head, but there’s no bitterness in your gesture. “Next year,” you repeat. Your fingers press the edge of your helmet tighter, almost like you’re grounding herself in this moment. But there’s something else too—a sense of peace you haven’t felt in a long time. “Maybe. But I’m just glad you’re here.”

Max’s smile is genuine now. “I’ll always be here. Waiting for you to finally beat me.”

You laugh—a real laugh this time, one that’s not forced. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that one day,” you say, your voice a little lighter. “You should go with your team, I’m sure they’re waiting to drown you in champagne.”

Max chuckles, then steps forward. For a moment, it’s just the two of you, standing in the midst of the chaos, everything else fading into the background. You breathe in, realizing just how much this—this moment—matters more than the championship itself.

“So, Max, you’ve just won the title, but there’s a lot of talk about your competitor. She’s been called ‘too emotional’ in the past by some. What’s your take on how she handled this title fight?”

Max turns towards the reporter, a protective energy surging in him. He absolutely hated doing interviews, all he wanted to do was get back to you. “Well, for one, I think anyone who says she’s ‘too emotional’ is clearly not paying attention. She’s one of the most focused drivers out there. Honestly, anyone who thinks you can compete in this sport at the level we’ve been at, especially in the last few races, without being deeply passionate—well, they don’t understand what it takes.” He glances over at you, who’s trying to hide a smile while also looking frustrated with the question.

While you were a few feet away from him doing your own interview, you could hear Max. You tried hard to listen to the interview questions, but all you wanted to do was listen to what Max had to say.

“isn’t it a bit too much? The way she gets in her own head. She’s been—well, let’s just say, a bit of a perfectionist this season.”

Max shook his head, chuckling at the reporters words. “But, you know, that’s exactly why she’ll be winning a championship someday soon. I have no doubt about it, but I’m excited for the day she takes my championship away.”

Max could hear you burst into laughter at his words. His smile grew ten times bigger. “Seriously, though, she’s one of the most talented drivers I’ve ever known. she’ll steal the show when you least expect it. And maybe she’s a little bit hard to understand at times, but that’s exactly what makes her great.”

The reporter nodded. “Are you saying she’s like, uh, the Billy Joel song?” He asked confused.

Max grinned, clearly amused by the confusion. “She’s always a woman to me. Maybe I’m not the best person to explain it, but you get the idea.”

You chuckled once again as you heard Max. He really had a way with words.

“And one day, I’ll be watching her take the title with the same respect I have for her right now.”

That’s when you decide to step in after finishing your interview. “Maybe, Max. But for now, I think I'll let you have your moment. You’ve earned it.”

“We both did. I owe it all to you.”

[taeghi]

FAST LANE

his criminal background profile || his insta

sunghoon has a need for speed, and yn has a knack for getting under his skin— now they're playing a dangerous game, and the stakes? so much higher than they expected.

pairing : car thief!sunghoon x sarcastic!yn

genre : smut, light humour?? idk angst

wc : 12k.

part of the criminal love series

minors DO NOT interact!!!!

you swing open the backdoor of the club and it hits the brick wall behind it, but you don’t care. you just want to get the hell out of there. you huff and pull out your pack of cigarettes, putting it in your mouth and lighting it. 

when the nicotine enters your lungs, you start to feel a little less overwhelmed. 

you pull out your phone, briefly looking over all your unanswered texts that you’ve sent to your friends. they had begged you to come out with them tonight, but within the first hour all three of them had ditched you for some random guys. 

“fuck this weekend,” you mutter to yourself, exhaling the smoke frustratingly. 

the backdoor of the club leads to a practically deserted street that only has one street lamp that lights up the space around you.  you open the uber app and call one for yourself, wanting to just go home and go to bed. you can hear the slight thump of the bass from the music in the club behind you and some traffic from the nearby streets. you confirm your ride after you sigh at the price of it. 

then, a sudden movement in your peripheral vision takes your attention away from worrying about your bank account to looking across the street. you see a figure in all black hunched over a parked, black car. you can tell from his movements that he’s obviously trying to pick the lock. 

you glance both ways down the street to see if anyone else is seeing what you’re seeing, but it’s just as dead as it was when you came out. there’s no one around except for you and this apparent car thief. 

“you’re joking,” you mutter, the cigarette between your lips wobbling as you speak. 

you take a moment to consider your options. you know you should just ignore him and wait for your uber to take you to your warm bed. but the way he’s so obviously picking the lock of this car annoys you. 

you huff in frustrations before you take the first step off the club’s step and walk across the street to the thief in all black. 

“you know, breaking into cars is illegal,” you say, loud enough for him to hear you. he doesn’t let go of the car handle as he turns to look at you. 

he gives you a once-over, basically judging your appearance with not a hint of shame. a small grin spreads across his face, “oh really? thanks for the legal advice, counselor.” 

you can’t help but contort your face into one of disgust at his response. you cross your arms over your chest as you stay put. the man seems so casual and confident about breaking into this car with you standing right there. he seems almost amused by your presence. 

“well i’m just saying, if you’re gonna break into a car, maybe make sure no one else is around.” 

he doesn’t say anything but he laughs lowly as he finally pops open the car’s lock. he swings open the door and leans on it with an accomplished expression on his face. his stance allows the distant street light to gleam over his face, letting you get a better look of his face. his sharp jawline, deep brown eyes and moles make him insanely hot. 

“you should get out of here, sweetheart,” he says honestly, “a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be caught up at a crime scene.” 

you scoff, not believing the criminal is telling you what to do, “i can do what i want.” 

his face only stays in his amused expression, “well of course,” he spins and bends down to sit in the driver’s seat, “but you know smoking cigarettes is bad for you.”

your lips curl in annoyance from his mocking. before you can say anything else to the criminal, he’s slamming the door shut and throwing the car into drive. he winks at you through the window before he steps on the gas, taking off down the street. 

suddenly, a honk from behind startles you and forces you to turn around. your uber is pulled over, the driver calling you over. you whip your head back around to see the car thief, but his fast car is long gone. 

you huff and walk to your uber, getting in the backseat and saying hello to the driver. you settle into the seat as your driver pulls off the curb and you notice the way your skin is pringling. the adrenaline rushing through you causes your heart to stutter in your chest. all you can think of is the thief and the way he was so nonchalant and confident throughout the entire encounter. you had never met someone like him before. 

you try to relax, wanting to shake off the adrenaline so you can crawl into bed as soon as you get home.

you didn’t even want to go out tonight in the first place. 

the next week, your friends had somehow dragged you to another club with the promise of  “this one will be better”. you’re not there for long and you’re already regretting agreeing to come. you head to the bar for another drink. 

you tell the bartender your order and he turns to start to make it. you notice a man standing beside you, and when you look at him, you instantly recognize him. it’s him. the car thief from the week before. the man you’ve been thinking about all week. 

his eyes find yours instantly, noticing your staring, and the smirk you’ve memorized spreads slowly across his face, “so… you’re stalking me now?”

you snort, “in your dreams.” 

he leans  in closer to you, to make sure that you can hear him over the music, “well i wouldn’t mind dreaming about you.” 

you choose to ignore him, “aren’t you worried i might, i don’t know… spill your little car-stealing secret?” 

“no”

“and why not?” 

you watch as his eyes scan your entire face, and then swivel down to your body. you feel your cheeks lighten because of him practically analyzing your entire being with no shame. 

“that’ll be eight bucks,” the bartender's voice beats you to saying anything. before you can reach for your wallet, the thief is dropping the money on the counter. you open your mouth to stop him, but the bartender scoops up the money and leaves to serve another customer. 

“y/n! what’s taking so long? come dance with me!” your friend’s impatient voice is clear in your ear as her hand lands on your shoulder and spins you around to face her. you turn your head back around to where the thief was standing, but of course, he’s already gone. 

your friend narrows her eyes, “who was that guy?” 

“i don’t know… but he bought me a drink.” 

your friend nudges you, wiggling her eyebrows, but you just laugh her off. you lead her back to your friend group so you can all dance again. but throughout the whole night, you find yourself glancing over your shoulder, searching for a glimpse of the car thief in the crowd. he never reappears, and you’re left with a weird mix of disappointment and relief. 

after all, he is a criminal, why would you be looking for him?

“night guys!” you call out to the rest of your coworkers, who have to stay late to clean the kitchen. 

you had to stay late at work tonight since saturday nights are usually the busiest time for you. so when you step out into the cool night air and away from the sweaty kitchen, you instantly need to light up a cigarette to take the edge off. you tuck your apron into your purse as you take the first puff for your walk home. 

you don’t get far into your smoke or walk before you hear the engine of a car pull up beside you. you don’t recognize the car, but you sure enough recognize the driver. his cocky grin fills his entire face as he leans on his elbow against the open window. 

“really? you stalking me now?” you question him as he slows down the car, matching your walking pace. 

“want a ride? or are you just gonna walk all night?” 

you don’t slow down, keeping your walking pace steady as you drag on your cigarette. you’re trying your best to not look so affected by his presence. “i can walk. unlike you, i don’t need a stolen car to get places.” 

he laughs and it makes your stomach flip. “okay, but this one isn’t stolen, sweetheart.” 

your eyes narrow at the pet name, but you don’t slow down your pace, “yeah, right.” 

“seriously!” he insists, “it’s my friends! he let me borrow it!” you glance at him, and he can tell you’re not convinced. “i swear! i wouldn’t let you get in a stolen car.” 

the last part makes something shift inside of you– something similar to disappointment. but you stop walking, mid-step, like your body’s decided before your mind has even begun to process it. 

he notices, and the car comes to a smooth stop right beside you. the street is silent, and it’s just you and him looking at each other, waiting. 

“okay, let me in.” 

he doesn’t hesitate to reach over the centre console and open the door for you at your request. 

you slide into the passenger seat and settle in, the car’s leather seats are cool beneath– but it’s a lot warmer in the car than it is outside. you shut the door, and without missing a beat, the thief shifts gears and pulls away from the curb. the city lights flicker past you as the car picks up speed quickly. 

you direct him towards your apartment as he tears down the streets. you wish he wouldn't drive so fast, just so that you could stay beside him longer. 

“so, why’re you walking so late at night anyways, don’t you know it’s dangerous?” he says, questioning you. 

“i got off work late.” 

“where do you work?” 

“ronnie’s,” you say, gesturing down the street behind you, “you know, down the block.” 

he nods, he knows the exact place. 

“why are you driving around so late?” you question him now. 

he shrugs, “had stuff to do.” 

“like what? stealing cars?” 

he laughs over the steering wheel, “no, not tonight. i had to pick up a payment for one.” you roll your eyes and scoff, turning to look out the window again. “what? you were the one who asked.” 

you don’t say anything in response. you’re second guessing as to why you even got in the car with him. you know that he’s bad news– but you’ve been so intrigued by him since you first met. he talks too casually about what he does, he’s completely fearless. 

“so, why do you steal cars, anyways?” 

he doesn’t need to think about his answer, he keeps the  fast speed of the car  as he answers, “because i need the money. and it’s a lot of money, and it’s quick.” 

you glance over at him, your curiosity creeping in about him and the cars. you wonder how much money he gets. “how do you even do it?” 

he glances at you, a doubtful look on his face, “i’m not telling you.” 

“why not?” 

the criminal doesn’t shift his focus from the road as he smirks, “because you’d get caught– and you shouldn’t always be in dangerous situations.” 

you scoff, “i am not always in a dangerous situation.” 

he dryly chuckles as he rests his elbow on the window, his head falling to his arm, “are you forgetting that you i met you because you walked up to me while i was literally committing a crime?” 

your mouth gaps open but nothing comes out. you can’t find anything to say, so you instead cross your arms tighter and look back out the window. you don’t mean to be in “dangerous” situations, but you can’t help but crave something new and adventurous sometimes. 

the rest of the drive to your apartment is silent besides the low volume of the radio playing some song you don’t know. thankfully, since he’s speeding, so you get to your apartment quickly so you can get out of this awkward hell. part of you wants to run out of the car as soon as he stops, but the other part of you wants to stay with him for longer. you want to talk with the man who’s been taking up your mind for weeks now. 

but, when the car slows to a stop outside of your apartment, your hand is quick to reach the door handle. you look at him, not knowing exactly what to say besides, “thanks.” 

he smirks at you, “just, stay out of trouble, sweetheart.” 

“my name is y/n! stop calling me that.” 

the thief’s smile turns into a mischievous smile and you hate that it makes your heart skip a beat, “i’m sunghoon.” 

sunghoon. the name rings in your head. you hadn’t expected him to have such a soft name. you can’t decide if it suits him or not. you stand up out of his car and onto the sidewalk. 

“good night, y/n.” 

“night, sunghoon.” 

you turn and head to the front door of your apartment building. you don’t hear the loud screech of the car’s tires until you’re safely inside.

you’re walking home from your friends house, your lighter is almost out of fuel as you try to light your cigarette. the lit cigarette lights up your face in the dark night. you pass by the city’s old car dealership– the one who’s always trying to sell some broken down car– and you see the all too familiar figure in all black, hunched over a black sedan. 

you smirk around your cigarette, shaking your head as you cross the empty street and duck through the gate of the dealership. 

“really?” you ask, your hand on your hip as you watch him jump slightly. he glances over his shoulder in shock, but once he realizes it’s you, you can see his whole body relax. 

“why’re you here?” 

“because i saw you.” 

he rolls his eyes as he goes back to picking the sedan’s lock, “you’re not helping me jack this car, y/n.” 

you can’t hide the annoyed pout on your face, “who said i wanted to?” 

you hear sunghoon chuckle deeply, his attention on the lock as he speaks, “because i can tell you want to. and beside the fact that you’re still standing here while i commit a crime and you’re not screaming for help.” 

“well, i can scream for help if you want me to.” 

sunghoon glances over his shoulder at you, an annoyingly amused smirk on his face, “you wouldn’t dare.” 

your eyes narrow in response, you don’t like how he can seemingly always look right through you. it’s like he knows that all week, the thought of the large amount of money you could make by stealing one car has kept you up at night. how just one theft could change your financial life, just for a bit. money has always been tight for you, you’ve always lived paycheck to paycheck since you were a child. so, stealing one car with him wouldn’t hurt anyone, but it would help your wallet. 

then, a loud bang echoes through the dealership. it makes both you and sunghoon jump back as it cuts through the quiet night. 

“who’s out here? you better leave!” an angry, male voice yells out to the parked cars. 

before you could react, sunghoon is pulling  you down to the pavement with him, using the sedan to cover yourselves from the man’s view. you glance at sunghoon, who only brings his index finger to his mouth to signal for you to stay quiet. his hand is still on your wrist as you both crawl to the passenger side of the sedan. 

you can feel your heartbeat pick up it’s pace as you hide, pressed up against the sedan’s cool metal. you’re sure your eyes are blown out in fear. sunghoon looks the complete opposite of you. his eyes are steady and his hands are shaking like yours are. your heavy breaths make sunghoon look at you, quickly covering your mouth with his warm hand. 

you hear footsteps approaching your position, rocks rolling as the man’s foot kicks them with his steps. and then– a metallic click. a gun. 

if it wasn’t for sunghoon’s hand over your mouth, you think you would’ve screamed. you stay quiet, your eyes locked on sunghoon’s clam ones ass you listen to the man’s footsteps. they seem tomove farther away from the sedan. sunghoon pulls his hand away from you, “stay here.” 

before you could protest, he slips around the car, leaving you alone against the car, imagining what would happen if the man with the gun catches you. you force yourself to be quiet, waiting for anything to happen, telling yourself that sunghoon’s got it under control. 

then, the passenger door by your head clicks open. sunghoon is in the car, waving his hand for you to get in, “quick.” with no hesitation, you jump inside the car, closing the door after you as quiet as possible. you duck down, trying to hide against the seat. sunghoon is working underneath the steering wheel– until the engine comes to life, breaking any silence that was left in the dealership. 

“hey! what do you think you’re doing?” the man’s voice is louder and even more angry as sunghoon steps his foot on the pedal, causing the car to rush forward. sudden gunshots make you flinch as sunghoon drives forward, ripping through the gates and floors it onto the empty streets. you can’t count how many gunshots you heard, they kept firing after the car until finally the dealership was out of sight. your grip on the door handle beside you makes your knuckles turn white. 

the car’s speed scares you as sunghoon swerves through the city. he keeps switching his attention from the street in front of him to you beside him. 

“are you okay? are you hurt?” his voice comes out as frightened and rush, the first time you’ve seen him like this. 

“i’m fine, i’m fine! just– drive!” you force it out so he can focus on driving and getting you the hell out of there. 

sunghoon nods and steps on the gas some more, speeding through the city. you can barely see anything out the window from how fast sunghoon is driving– only flashes of the lights from the street lamps and stores. he’s quick to leave the city, driving down dirty country roads where the lights turn into tall dark trees. 

sunghoon stops the car when a break in the trees is found. he pulls the car into it and you can see the entire city below you. everything is quiet now that you’re away from the city. he cuts the engine. 

your chest is still heaving from the adrenaline when you look over at him, his eyes looking at yours at the same time. when you look at him, the mood in the car changes from panic to relief. relief that you got away, that sunghoon got away safely.

you’re the first one to let out a little chuckle, realization starting to take over. but then sunghoon cracks his own smile,  a laugh following soon after. then, the car is filled with both of you losing it, your eyes squinting from laughing so hard in realizing what had just happened. the adrenaline rush has turned from fear into excitement. 

before you can even think, your hands cup his face, pulling him into you. your lips impulsively kiss his, feeling his warm ones on your cold ones. but then, your face starts heating up in embarrassment when you’ve realized what you’ve done. you practically jump away from him, pressing yourself up against the passenger door behind you. 

“sorry, sorry! i was just—,” you stutter, trying to find an explanation, “i mean, we just got away! and i was so happy that—” 

before you could finish your ramble, sunghoon leans over the centre console and presses his lips back onto yours. this kiss is more certain and confident than yours. his eyes are closed as his lips work against yours, and yours soon follow once the shock has faded. 

sunghoon pulls away slightly, his forehead resting on yours as his dark eyes look into yours. you can tell that his breathing is heavier than usual, like his composure has finally dissipated. you can only stare back at him, your eyes shifting from his eyes to lips that you want to feel again so badly. 

“what… what’re you doing?” you ask him, not expecting his reaction. 

your breath hitches when you feel his hands move to your face, his thumb brushing over the top of your cheek. he’s so close to you, you can hardly think. he murmurs quietly, “you make me lose all control, y/n.” you can tell from his eyes that he’s being honest– and it scares him and you. “everytime i’m around you, or even look at you… i have to remind myself to focus.” 

his forehead is still resting on yours as he speaks. you’re sure he can hear how quick your poor heart is beating. “sunghoon,” you say his name but that’s all that comes out. 

he smirks at your lack of words, his thumb tracing along your jaw, “you’re way too good for me, sweetheart,” he lets his eyes close as he finishes the sentence, “but i need you so bad.” 

“are you… are you serious?” 

sunghoon chuckles softly, “of course i am,” his fingers brush back the strand of hair on your face, “i’ve wanted you since the first time i saw you— but, i shouldn’t be allowed to want you. i’m not good for you.” 

you see the way his eyes tense at his confession, his jaw tightening. “you can want me, sunghoon. i want you too, so much.” 

he lets out a slow breath, his hands sliding down your body and around your waist, “if we start this, y/n, id ont think i’ll be able to stop.” his voice is full of longing and precaution. 

“then don’t.” 

your lips meet again almost instantly— the final strand holding sunghoon back breaks. the kiss is much rougher than the last two, setting the pace for the rest of the time you have in the stolen car. 

“you’re so beautiful, you know that, right?” sunghoon’s deep voice asks, his hot skin warm against yours. you want to respond, but he’s quick to gather your lips in his again. he doesn’t hesitate to push his tongue inside your mouth. he starts exploring your mouth, and you let him. wanting to taste him just as much as he wants to taste you. 

sunghoon’s hand starts to slide down your neck, making you shiver. he tugs at the bottom of your shirt before he lifts it so it pools at your neck, making your breasts exposed. his fingers hurriedly brush against your newly bare skin. you’ve wanted this for such a long time, every movement of his leaves you squirming with anticipation. you’ve thought about this man every night since you’ve met him in that empty street all those weeks ago. “so fucking pretty,” he whispers, his breath hot as it fans against your neck. you can’t help but let out a soft moan of his name as he cups your breast in his large palm. 

“it feels that good already, sweetheart?” he teases you, his voice is hoarse when he speaks. the nickname makes you whine out. it’s been repeating in your mind since the first he’s called you it. you nod, unable to form words as pleasure surges through your body. his touch is firm and rough, and you need more of him. 

sunghoon leans over your body, gathering your mouth in a hungry kiss. the intensity between you is increasing rapidly. you’re quick to kiss him back this time. your hands aren’t shy anymore— you tangle them in his hair and pull him closer. everything about him is so addicting. 

sunghoon breaks away from the kiss to get air and starts leaving a trail of wet kisses down your jawline, nipping and sucking on it, “i want to taste every inch of you— mark you everywhere.” he murmurs, his hands now on the button of your jeans, unbuttoning it. you don’t stop him from sliding the denim down your hips until your bottom half is only in your panties.

“you’re so fucking wet,” he growls out, his fingers dipping into the damp fabric, stroking your slick folds. “i can’t wait to feel you around me.” his words have you keen, your body needing him more than you had thought. 

he pulls your panties to the side, exposing your sopping pussy. he starts to tease your entrance with his fingers, circling your clit. the smallest touch from him has you gasping and writhing against the stolen car’s seat already. “please,” you beg, your voice desperate.  

“not yet, sweetheart,” his whispers to you with a tsk, “i want to make you beg for it.” with that, he slides two fingers inside you, curling them to find your sweet spot. he starts to pump his fingers in and out, his thumb working your clit in circles at the same time. 

your head is thrown back against the window already. the feeling of his long, slim fingers inside of you have your knees shaking on either side of his body. you can’t stop the whimpers of his name falling from your lips. 

sunghoon starts to pound his two fingers in and out of your soaking core. the squelching sound of his fingers entering and exiting filled the stolen car. your cries increased and you started bucking your hips up and off the seat, trying to match his pace. 

he only chuckled darkly at your movements, “relax, relax.” he said, his pace slowing down as he leaned over you and pressed his lips to yours. your eyes close instantly, taking in the feeling of his lips on yours and his fingers rubbing your g spot. 

“i’m, i’m close.” you whimper out to him when he pulls back. your eyebrows furrow as his thumb starts to rub circles on your clit again. 

“hold it for a bit,” sunghoon asks, “i wanna take my time with you.” is lips start pressing kisses into your neck again, biting and sucking on the skin. he wants to leave as many marks as he can— wants you to remember him everytime you look in the mirror. his hand moving quickly in between your legs kept you in place, pressed against the passenger side door. the window cool on your warm, sweaty back. 

“i c-can’t!” you cry out, you feel your orgasm approaching so strong and quick. 

you see his eyes darken at your confession, it makes your heart pick up pace as you watch a smirk spread across his lips before he speaks, “are you not gonna be a good girl for me, y/n?” the words rush through you and straight to your core, you’re sure he can feel the way your pussy throbs around his fingers even more. “are you not gonna listen to me, sweetheart?” 

you try to answer him but his fingers are working viciously on your pussy; two fingers continuously pounding into you whilst his thumb rubs circles all over your clit, so messily. 

sunghoon doesn’t like your lack of response, and suddenly his hand is around your neck, choking you with your head pressed against the window behind you. his fingers on his other hand don’t leave your tight walls. “i think you should listen to me, y/n. because sluts don’t get to cum, do you understand?” 

“y-yes,” you try to nod, but his hands wrapped around your neck forbid you. 

a smile spreads on his lips again, “good girl.” 

sunghoon leans down and kisses your harshly. he’s all over your body, taking control of all of your senses. he’s fingers are massaging your mesh walls, his thumb is spreading your juices all over your clit. his hand is threatening the oxygen to your head and his lips are taking your breath away. he’s all that you can think about. 

“you don’t like following orders unless it gets you to cum, is that right?” his voice is deep in your ear when he pulls away from your lips again. his tongue is trailing under your jaw. 

“n-no!” 

his teeth bite down on your jaw at your answer, “oh c’mon, y/n. don’t act like you’re not a slut for me. look at you, your legs spread open for me, tits out,” he leans down and sucks a nipple into his mouth briefly, causing you to cry, “admit that you like being fucked like a whore.” 

sunghoon’s degrading only makes your core focus more on your orgasm, your brain becoming hazy as the pleasure continues to take over your body. 

“answer me,” 

all you could do was nod with a weak whimper leaving your mouth. your body felt like it was on overdrive as you tried to hold back your orgasm for him, so you could be his good girl. 

“say it, say that you’re my slut.” 

“i-i’m, your s-slut!” you practically yell out into the car. you could feel the sweat dripping down your forehead– the windows fogging up, just from your breath. 

“good girl,” sunghoon smiles darkly. his hand suddenly starts to pound so hard into your pussy. your body was jerking up against the seat with every thrust of his hand. “now, beg me to let you cum.” 

“p-please!” 

sunghoon only chuckles, “oh c’mon, i know you can do better than that, sweetheart.” 

you swallow harshly, “please, l-let me cum, i need it so bad, sir.” 

the name falls out of your mouth so willingly that it makes that evil, lust filled look in his eye turn even darker. “then cum, whore.” 

with his permission, the overwhelming wave of pleasure crashes over you. “oh god!” you cry out. your body starts convulsing as your orgasm tears through you. your head is thrown back against the cold, passenger window. his fingers are relentless, fucking into you until you have to pull his fingers out of you. 

you feel your tired pussy gaping around nothing as you keep your legs spread, your body still as you try to calm down from your high. in the moonlight, you can see sunghoon’s fingers glistening. 

you watch as he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking your juices off with a satisfied grin. “fuck you taste so good.” he moans around his own fingers, his eyes never leaving yours. 

once your juices are off his fingers, and before you can catch your breath, sunghoon is grabbing your waist and pulling you across the centre console and placing you right on his lap. you straddle him, feeling his hard length straining against his jeans. “i want you to ride me, sweetheart.” his voice commands, filled with authority. 

you reach down, your fingers shaking as they reach for his zipper. you so desperately want to feel his hard cock inside of you. sunghoon helps with the zipper, his neediness makes him impatient, too. 

in a second, his cock springs free from his jeans and you can see that the tip is already glistening with his precum. you can’t help but let out a quiet gasp at the sight. your pussy clenches around nothing but the thought of him stretching you open. 

sunghoon guides your hips, positioning his cock at your entrance. he goes slow, not wanting to overstimulate your pussy too much. your body slowly slides down, taking him deep inside of you. you both groan in unison as he fills you, stretching you perfectly. 

“fuck, you’re so tight,” he practically moans out, his head falling back onto the driver’s seat. you glance down at his exposed neck and you can’t help but reach down and press a deep kiss into the soft, smooth skin. his hand slinks through your hair, keeping you there, letting you leave your mark on him. “you’re so hot.”

when you’re done and you sit up again, your lips are swollen from leaving the now red mark on his neck. you’ve now adjusted to his size, feeling every vein and ridge of his thick shaft. 

“move, sweetheart.” he growls now, wanting you to set the pace for him. and you oblige. 

you lift your hips up and then sink back down, taking him in a slow, deliberate stroke. his cock glides in and out of you, rubbing against your sweet spots, sending pleasure coursing through your body. 

sunghoon leans forward, his mouth capturing one of your nipples, sucking and biting. “you feel so good– so much better than i even thought.” your pussy clamps down around his cock at the mention of him thinking about what your pussy would feel like. the image of his hand wrapped around his cock, late at night, moaning your name and fucking his cock into his hand, thinking about your pussy. “yeah? you like knowing that i think about your pussy? think about you?” 

you nod, your breaths quickening, “i think about you, too. i wanted to your cock inside of me for so long.” 

sunghoon smiles at your confession, and reaches up to gather your lips against his again. you quicken your pace, riding him harder, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. the car is filled with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, your moans and his deep whispers. 

“fuck, that’s it, take my cock, y/n. it’s all yours.” he encourages you, his hands squeezing your ass, guiding your movements. 

the pressure builds again, an intense pleasure coiling low in your belly. "i'm gonna cum," you pant, your body on the brink of another orgasm.

“fuck, okay,” sunghoon speaks breathlessly, “cum with me.” he grips your hips tightly, helping you by lifting you slightly and then slamming you back down onto his cock. he starts pounding into your from below, his cock thrusting deep, hitting all the right spots. 

you cling to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as the pleasure becomes almost unbearable. "oh, fuck!" you cry out, your body trembling as the orgasm engulfs you. sunghoon grunts, his hips snapping up, driving his cock even deeper as he spills his hot cum inside you. 

you lean down to rest your head on his shoulder, your body weak. both of your chests are heaving against each other as you try to catch your breaths. sunghoon rubs his hands up and down your back, soothing your weak body. 

when you feel strong enough again you start to lift your hips up and sunghoon helps you. he sets you down on the passenger seat before he starts looking through the car for something to wipe the mess between your legs. he finds some tissues in the glove department and he smiles sheepishly at you before he starts gently wiping the sticky cum and juices off of your core. 

both of you fix your clothes and you’re left in silence, the windows slowly unfogging so you can see the city down below again. 

as you sit in the passenger seat, the silence feels thick, like neither of you knows what to say. you keep your hands tight together in your lap. 

“i should uh, get you home.” sunghoon finally speaks, and you notice how he can barely look at you. 

“uh sure, right.” 

when he starts to drive again, he just stares straight ahead, one hand gripping the steering wheel as he changes the channel on the radio, which is playing some retro love song you’ve never heard before. 

you shift in your seat, feeling anxiety creep up your spine. this wasn’t supposed to feel so intense. all you’d wanted was a little adventure, a bit of cash, and maybe some time to you look at the car thief who you found insanely attractive. 

you never thought sunghoon, with his impossible calm and that quiet confidence, would actually… want you back. but tonight, he let his cool, calm and collected demeanor drop— just for you. and now you’re left with wondering what it could mean. 

he pulls up to your apartment building not long after you start to see the city lights again. he taps his fingers against the steering wheel, glancing at the dashboard instead of you. “so…” he says, his voice softer than usual. “i guess i’ll see you around.” 

“yeah.” you nod, gripping the door handle, feeling like you’re supposed to say something but coming up blank. “thanks for the… ride.” the words feel so lame, but what else is there to say?

he gives you a tiny smile, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “sure. anytime.”

a pause stretches between you, long enough that it feels like maybe one of you should say something—anything—to break the weird tension. but instead, you just close the passenger door of the stolen car and give a small wave to him as you turn and walk toward your apartment. 

tonight, he drives away before you can even enter the apartment building.

you haven’t seen the car thief, sunghoon, in two whole weeks. 

you’ve replayed that last night with him multiple times in your head, you’re sure you haven’t forgotten a single detail. still, you think about all the “what ifs” of that night. all the things you should or would have done differently. you shake your head, cringing at yourself for the hundredth time. 

it’s late now, another night where you’re practically dragging yourself home from work. you’re wondering how your life can feel so hard and boring all at once. you tug your purse over your shoulder tightly and start your walk home, telling yourself to not get stuck on the thought of sunghoon again. 

and then, like your life is some huge joke, a car pulls up beside you. you don’t even have to look to know who’s inside. 

before you can finish telling yourself to not glance over at the car, you glance over. your heart stutters when sure enough, sunghoon is sitting in the driver's seat of the car. he has that annoying smirk on his face that you’ve gone back and forth of hating and loving. 

still, the hurt of being ignored by him for two weeks after you fucked is still fresh. you scoff, rolling your eyes as he slows down beside you.

“what’s with that? aren’t you happy to me?” he says, his lips forming into an exaggerated pout. 

you tell yourself to not look at him and to keep walking home, “no.” 

“no?” he mocks, pretending to be offended, “don’t tell me it’s ‘cause i didn’t call you! i didn’t have your number, y/n!”

“it’s not that,” you mutter, not sure if you’re even telling the truth yourself.

“oh, really?” he says, tilting his head. “then why don’t you get in the car?” you shrug him off and keep walking. “what, you’re suddenly scared of getting into a stolen car?” he teases, grinning. “this one’s my friend’s.”

you glance at the car, recognizing it instantly—yeah, it’s his friend’s. he used  it once to drive you home last month. you say nothing, eyes forward, and keep walking.

“c’mon, y/n,” his voice softens, the car matching your walking pace beside you. “don’t be like. i’m sorry! just get in, and we’ll talk.” 

“you didn’t have my number, but you knew where i lived.” you raise a brow, finally looking over at him, and he falls silent. he bites his lip, knowing that you’re right and he could’ve talked to you a lot sooner than two weeks later. 

still, he doesn’t give up. “please, y/n, just get in. we can talk.” you don’t answer, the thoughts in your head are so conflicting. mentally switching between how hurt you’ve been to how addicting his touch is. “i’ll buy you food.”

you pause, narrowing your eyes at him. at the mention of food, though, he knows he’s won. he stops the car, smiling in victory as he gestures to the passenger side. “get in.” 

with an exasperated sigh you walk over and slip into the seat, you hate how hungry you are right now.

you sit in the passenger seat as you finish your burger that sunghoon had bought you. 

when you’re both done, sunghoon leans back in his seat and glances over at you. his eyes are aching as they meet yours, “i’m sorry i didn’t come to see you sooner.” 

you just give him a skeptical “hm” in response, raising a brow as you wipe your hands on a napkin.

he sighs again. “i’ve just been… stressed. busy. work’s been a lot and i didn’t want to get you wrapped up in this mess. last time we were together, i felt like i did just that—dragged you right into the middle of all this car-theft stuff. you don’t deserve any of that, y/n. i just want you to be safe.”

 “i understand that, but i’m an adult. i can make my own decisions, you know? and so can you, by the way. you could’ve come to see me, especially after… well, after what we did last time.”

he looks away, guilt flickering across his face as he nods, biting his lip. “i know. i just… i like you, y/n. a lot. and i wish my life wasn’t such a complete shit show right now.”

“my life’s a mess, too. but i’d still make an effort to see you.”

sunghoon sighs, “i know, i know. i messed up, okay? i handled it all wrong, and i’m sorry. okay? i’m sorry.”

you don’t say anything right away, just look down at your drink, setting it carefully in the cup holder. “okay,” you finally say. there’s a mix of relief and caution settling in your chest. sunghoon is complicated, and so are your feelings for him.  “have you ever thought about, like… you know, just having a normal job? a normal life?”

sunghoon snorts, “yeah i tried that, but not many people want to hire a guy who doesn’t even have a high school diploma.” you nod in understanding, so he continues, “and why do you want to steal cars? and don’t say you don’t want to—i saw how excited you were when we drove off a few weeks ago.”

you bite your lip, debating how much to actually tell him. you don’t share much with, well anyone. his pleading eyes convince you to tell him some parts, “well i’ve been on my own since i was 16, so money’s always been tight. so i just needed some more money. i’m sick of working all day, every day, just to go home, sleep, and start all over. i wanted… something different. something exciting.”

sunghoon listens, but looks away, shaking his head with a small smile, “y/n, i get it,” he says, sighing. “but crime isn’t exactly the way, you know? it’s bad, it’s dangerous.”

you laugh, raising an eyebrow. “right. you’d know all about being bad, wouldn’t you?”

his smirk flickers, and he doesn’t deny it. instead, he just watches you quietly for a second, his expression unreadable, “okay but,” he mutters under his breath, “but it’s different now. ever since i’ve met you, you make me want to be good.” 

something in his voice makes your stomach flip. you’re both happy and scared at the same time. you’re trying not to grin, but his hand comes up, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and you can’t help it. it’s what you’ve wanted to hear from him. the look in his eyes is warm and knowing. 

before you can think twice, he leans in, close enough that you catch a hint of his cologne, and then he kisses you, his lips as soft as you remembered. and in that moment, you both know you’re already deeper than you meant to be. 

your lips barely part from sunghoon’s when the screech of tires slices through the air, and suddenly, the night feels way too quiet again. you both freeze, eyes snapping to the headlights of a dark car that pulls into the parking lot.

you barely have time to react as the car comes to a stop. three men step out, all of them wearing expressions that scare you as they start to approach you and sunghoon. they have nasty scowls on their faces and it makes your heart beat rapidly in your chest. 

sunghoon shifts, stepping out of the car without looking at you, without saying a word. he looks just as terrifying as the three men do. he’s tense and so are you. 

"you really thought you could mess with us and get away?" one of them sneers as they look at sunghoon like he’s already dead and it sends a chill through your body. 

“sunghoon, let’s just go! please!” you call out to him from inside the car. 

the guy who spoke first takes a step towards the car, putting his hand on the roof as he bends down to look at you through the window. his eyes are wild and a terrifying smirk spreads on his lips, “oh, you’ve got a pretty girl with you tonight, huh park?” 

sunghoon instantly shoves the guys shoulder to get him away from the car. and before you can blink, the other two men are pulling out guns, aiming them directly at sunghoon. 

“don’t talk to her.” sunghoon’s voice is stern and cold as he ignores the guns and stares right at the man who spoke to you. 

“relax, relax,” the man’s voice is calm, “we’re not here for her, we’re here for you. because you’re the one who messed with all our engines, right? all the engines to the cars that we can’t sell now.” 

you see sunghoon’s jaw clench, his hand flexing at his side. you’re unable to move, unable to think of anything except the fact that sunghoon’s standing there, unarmed, against three men with guns.

"you shouldn't have come here," sunghoon finally says, his voice low, "you're making this worse for yourselves."

the guy closest to him scoffs, taking a step closer. "worse for us? you’re the one who made this personal, park. we’re just here to settle it." the man nods to one of the men with a gun, “do it.” 

everything happens so fast after that. someone yells and then a loud gunshot fills the empty parking lot. you swear your heart stops for a moment when you see sunghoon stagger back. his hands fly to this abdomen where red blood is already spreading across his white shirt. 

“sunghoon!” you scream, your hands fumbling with the car door as panic overtakes you. 

before you can reach the group of men, sunghoon lunges at one of the men, knocking him back. the guy’s gun slips from his grip, making it skid across the pavement. it lands a few feet away from you. before you can process what you’re doing, your body is diving for the gun, gripping its handle tightly in your shaky hands. 

“y/n, stay back!” sunghoon yells at you, his voice strained from the pain of his wound. but, you barely register what he’s saying as you aim the gun at the man who’s holding a gun to sunghoon’s head.

your finger so easily pulls the trigger of the gun. the recoil of the shot makes your arms jolt back. the man who you aimed at stumbles back, his own gun dropping to the pavement as he falls to his knees. 

suddenly, the weapon in your hand is burning hot in your hand, making you drop it. the other two men freeze, their eyes full of confusion and fear as they scan the scene in front of them. they definitely hadn’t been expecting that, and neither were you or sunghoon. 

“let’s go!” sunghoon shouts, his voice hoarse. his one hand is pressed against his bleeding stomach, his face pale as he tries to mask the pain he’s in. he starts to limp the the driver’s side of the car. 

“sunghoon, no,” you snap, rushing to his side of the car, “you can’t drive.” 

“i’m fine.” he argues, but you can see how much the wound is hurting him. his face doesn’t look the same at all. he can’t even stand up by himself, he’s holding onto the car’s roof like he’s gonna fall any second. 

“get in the passenger side, sunghoon.” you voice is a lot more stern that you had intended. 

you can tell that he wants to argue and protest, but the serious look in your eye makes him give in, “okay.” he carefully limps to the other side of the car. he’s just closing the passenger door when your shaking hands grab the steering wheel. 

the other three men have scrambled into their own car in front of you, taking off down the street quickly. the pavement below you is a mess of blood. you ignore the sight and panic bubbling up in your chest as you slam your foot on the gas. your heart is pounding so hard you can feel it in your throat, but you force yourself to focus. 

“just hold on, okay?” you say, your voice trembling. “we’re gonna get you help.”

“no!” sunghoon tries to sit up, “we can’t go to the doctor, y/n! they’ll call the cops! please no!” 

your eyes widen further at the realization that you can’t call for help, that you had just shot a man who’s blood is all over the pavement back there. that sunghoon is a thief, that there’s no way he could get help without going to jail. 

“fine, fine. no hospital!” you turn the wheel sharply, the tires screeching as you turn down another street, changing the direction you were going in. 

“you’re a terrible driver,” he mutters, his lips twitching into the faintest smirk despite the pain.

“shut up, sunghoon,”

before you can think, you’re pulling up to your apartment building. your hands are still trembling as you park the car in the shadows behind the building, where no one will notice it right away. your heart pounds as you glance around, praying none of your neighbors are outside or peeking through their windows.

“come on, sunghoon,” you mutter, rushing around to the passenger side. he groans as you help him out, his weight leaning heavily on you. there’s blood everywhere—on your hands, his clothes, the car seat. you wonder what the fuck you’re gonna do. 

it’s a struggle to get him up the stairs without dropping him or making too much noise. you kept switching between praying for sunghoon to not die right here and for your neighbours to not leave their apartment. you unlock your door with blood that doesn’t belong to you on your hands. you practically drag him inside after you to your bathroom. 

“sit down,” 

sunghoon practically falls down on the closed toilet lid, his face pale with droplets of sweat trailing down his face and neck. his white shirt is soaked with blood and you can feel your stomach turn at the sight— the smell of iron strong when you pull the shirt off of his head. 

you force yourself to not stare at the open, bloody wound and to move. you pull open the cabinet where you keep your first aid kit. 

“i can do it,” sunghoon mumbles, trying to sit up straighter. his voice is weak, but his stubbornness is as strong as ever. 

“no, you can’t,” you snap for the second time tonight. you kneel on the bathroom floor in front of him, pulling out all the supplies you might need. “just let me take care of you, okay?”

he blinks at you, surprised, but doesn’t argue. you grab a towel, folding it up before holding it out to him. “bite down on this,” you say softly. “this is gonna hurt.”

he hesitates for a moment before taking it, pressing it between his teeth. you grab a pair of tweezers from the kit, your hands shaking as you sterilize them with some rubbing alcohol.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him, before pressing your hand firmly against his wound. he tenses, a muffled groan escaping him as you work. you don’t think the bullet is lodged too deep, but you’ve never done this before. every time you move, he jerks slightly, his knuckles white as he grips the edge of the sink beside him. 

“hold on,” you murmur, mostly to yourself. 

with one more try, you manage to pull the bullet out with the tweezers. a trickle of his blood starts to trail down his side. you drop the bullet into the sink and grab some gauze to press against his wound. 

“i’m so sorry,” you say again, tears filling your eyes as you try to clean the area. you’re just hoping you did everything correctly so that he doesn’t die in your apartment. you just work as quickly as you can, bandaging him up and cleaning it so it doesn’t get infected. “done.” 

sunghoon pulls the towel out of his mouth, his head falling back to the wall behind his head. “you’d be the worst nurse ever,” sunghoon jokes weakly, his voice so evidently tired. 

you roll your eyes, standing up and grabbing a clean shirt from your bedroom. “don’t make jokes right now,” you mutter, helping him put the clean shirt over his head, wondering when your hands will stop shaking. 

he winces at the movement, but he doesn’t complain. he doesn’t want to make you worry more about him. “thank you.” he tells you, and it catches you off guard. 

“yeah, yeah,” you mumble, trying to ignore the way your cheeks heat up. you help the thief to his feet, guiding him to the couch in your small living room. he sinks into the cushion, exhaustion taking over his body as it doesn’t take him long to fall asleep after you give him a pillow and blanket.

sunghoon stays at your apartment for the next few days, being forced to be taken care of by you. 

you make sure he eats and that  his wound is cleaned. everytime you see it you tell him it looks better, even though you’re never really sure. you suppose you say it looks better for your own reassurance and sunghoon’s caught onto that, but he doesn’t say anything. 

when you’re at work you find it hard to concentrate on anything but the fact that a wounded sunghoon is at home on your couch. on every break, your phone is quick to your ear, calling him, making sure he’s still alive. when he picks up everytime, he sounds the same— tired, but  playful. 

“i’m fine, y/n.” he says every time, you can always hear his smirk through the phone, “you’re going to make yourself crazy with all this worrying.” 

but you keep calling, and he keeps answering, and you can’t stop yourself from falling in love with his laugh every time. 

you have tonight off from work for the first time since sunghoon got hurt. you’re sitting on the couch beside him, his head rests in your lap with his messy dark hair sprawled out against your bare thighs. the light from the tv is the only light in the room. the movie is some action one that you randomly picked, too tired to scan through anymore of them trying to find a good one. so, neither of you are really watching the movie. your hand absentmindedly runs through his hair. 

you can feel his hand start to wander across the bare skin of your thighs. it’s subtle at first, just the tip of his finger tips grazing the surface. but they get closer to your core that your shorts are covering. your eyes narrow as you look down at him, “sunghoon, you’re hurt, stop.” 

he tilts his head up to look at you, his lips quirked, “but you’ve been taking such good care of me. let me take care of you now.”

you grab his hand to stop it from going underneath your shorts, “sunghoon, you’re hurt,” your voice is firm, “just rest.” 

he sighs, his head falling back into your lap. “i can’t rest forever, you know,” he mutters. “i have to go back to work at some point.”

the mention of his “work” makes your body stiffen underneath him. the night that he got hurt has been flashing through your mind constantly. the large amounts of blood, sunghoon’s groans of pain— the way the gun felt in your hand as you pulled the trigger. you can’t stop the way your eyebrows furrow in worry. 

of course he notices, “y/n, you know i have to go back. it’s my career. it’s how i get my money.” his voice is soft and gentle as he explains himself. 

“hoon, you can get a real job. i can help you find one.” 

he instantly shakes his head in disagreement. before you can protest more, which he knows you will do, he leans forward, pressing a kiss to your thigh, then another just above it. your breath hitches as he starts to press soft kisses against your stomach. 

“sunghoon,” you warn him, grabbing his face with your hand. he stops, his dark eyes meeting yours as he lets his face rest against your hand. “i please, i can’t stand seeing you in pain. it’s too soon.” 

a soft smile covers his lips, it doesn’t completely match his eyes that are swirling with lust. but he turns his head and presses a kiss into your palm. “you take such good care of, y/n. i’ll be okay.” 

his stubbornness makes you groan, “sunghoon, please.” you beg him again, thoughts of his wound stretching open cross your mind. 

but, he doesn’t stop. he only starts to press more kisses against your wrist and arm. his smile grows against your skin with every kiss. 

“let me take care of you now, y/n.” 

you sigh, the fight in you dissipating and the smile on his face has reached full peak. he knows he has won, that you can’t resist him any longer. 

“spread your legs for me, sweetheart.” his voice deepens, “let me see your pretty pussy.” 

you obey his command once again, leaning back against the arm of the couch and opening your legs for him. you let him push your shorts aside, letting the cool air brush against your wet folds. his eyes darken even more, his gaze completely focused on your core in front of him. 

“that’s it, my good girl.” his words come out rough and steady, “i wanna taste you so bad.” 

his free hand holds your one thigh, caressing it and keeping it open for his broad shoulders to fit between your legs. his touch is gentle at first. his fingers ever so lightly start to rub your pussy up and down, spreading your juices around, preparing you for his mouth. it had you whining out for him already. 

“fuck, you get so wet so easily for me. wanna make you cum with my tongue, baby.” 

he barely finishes his sentence before he’s leaning forward, his tongue darting out and tracing the outline of your lips. he’s teasing you, making you squirm and beg for him again. his breath and mouth are so warm against your sensitive skin. 

“oh god, sunghoon.” you moan, your hand reaching down between your legs to grab his hair, “that feels good.” 

sunghoon loves how sensitive you are. how easy you are to get moaning. “you taste so fucking good, ‘m getting get addicted to this pussy.” the vibrations of his words make your legs tighten around his shoulders. 

his tongue flicks your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. your hips jerked forward involuntarily, seeking more of his touch. sunghoon chuckles, loving the power he has over you. 

“tell me how it feels, y/n– how my tongue feels against your pussy.” 

you look down at him where his face is pressed deep into your core, his eyes telling you what he wants. his tongue is still darting out to lick every inch of your pussy. “it feels so good, i love your tongue so much. please, don’t stop.” 

“you don’t want me to stop?” his voice is teasing as he slow down the movement of his tongue on your clit. 

“no! no! please don’t!” 

sunghoon laughs at your begging, but he doesn’t stop his tongue from moving. he constantly alternates from flattening his tongue against your pussy to contracting it circling it quickly around your clit. 

“who does this pussy belong to, sweetheart?” 

your head is thrown back over the couch in pleasure, “you.” 

suddenly a harsh slap lands on your clit, sending you squealing as you sit up and look down at him, his hands still holding your thighs open. “louder, who does this pussy belong to?” 

“you!” you nod down at him, your thighs shaking from the pleasure and pain. 

“good girl– because you are my good girl, right?” 

“y-yes!” 

you see him smirk against your core again, “then cum for me, baby. cum all over my mouth.” then, he’s shoving his fingers inside your pussy, heading straight for your g spot as he starts sucking your clit into his mouth, his tongue circling it again and again– so desperate to get you to cum. 

“oh god! oh god, sunghoon!” you writhe on the couch. if it wasn’t from his hands holding your thighs open then you would’ve fallen off the couch. “i’m gonna cum!” 

his fingers are pounding into you mercilessly, “that's it, baby, let it all out. cum for me, y/n." his voice was a low growl, urging you on.

your orgasm hits you hard. all the worry and frustration you had built over sunghoon’s health all left your body as the pleasure came crashing over your body. your hips can’t stay still as they buck up against his face. you cry out, your voice filling up your entire apartment as the pleasure overtakes you. sunghoon holds you throughout the entire climax, his mouth and fingers never stopping— wanting it to last as long as possible for you. 

as your body starts to relax, you collapse back onto the couch, your breath coming in ragged gasps. sunghoon slowly pulls away from you. his lips are glistening with your juices, a satisfied smirk is on his face as he looks up at you. 

“fuck that was good,” you tell him, a smile spreading across your face in amusement. 

“i told you i could make you feel good,” sunghoon wiggles his eyebrows in response. you roll your eyes, sitting up on the couch and pushing him to sit up. he does so, slowly. his back against the couch and his feet on the floor now. “c’mere,” he pats to his thighs. 

“sunghoon, it’s too much. i don’t want you to get hurt.” 

he doesn’t attempt to argue this time, only grabs your wrist and throws you on top of his lap. both of your knees are either side of his hips.

“if you want to take care of me then make me feel good, y/n.” he says to you, his eyes still full of lust as they look up at you on top of him. 

you can’t ignore the throb of your pussy at his words, so you give in to him again. your hands grab the hem of your shirt and slip it off your body. you move so you can take off your soaked panties and shorts, leaving you completely bare on top of the car thief. his bottom lip is tucked tightly between his teeth as he takes in the sight of you. it’s the first time he’s seen you completely bare. and it’s just for him. 

“you’re so beautiful,” he says as he reaches out his hand. you think he’s going to cup your breast or touch your body, but his hand settles on your lower jaw. his eyes looking directly into yours. “let me kiss you.” 

you lean down, making your lips meet with his. the kiss is gentle and soft. it makes your heart skip a beat as he prolongs it. he doesn’t want to let you go. but he does when you pull away for air. 

“i want you inside me, hoon.” 

sunghoon smirks at your confession, his hands pulling off the hem of his shorts so his cock can spring free for you. it looks so hard and thick— the memory of it stretching you open in the stolen car fills your mind. you can’t wait to feel it again. 

sunghoon grips your hips, giving you something to steady yourself on as you position yourself over his cock. you slide down onto his length with ease from your juices and his saliva covering your pussy. you take him in deeper and deeper until, stopping when he’s all the way inside of you. 

a moan escapes your mouth, your head falling forward to rest on his shoulder as you adjust to large size. sunghoon’s hands rub up and down your bare back, soothing you from the stretch. 

“we’ll just go slow this time, okay?” sunghoon’s husky tone speaks in your ear— reminding you of his wound. 

you nod as you sit up straight again. you keep your hands on his broad shoulders as you start to lift your hips off his cock slowly, then push them back down. the first thrust already has you reeling. you continue with the slow pace of your hips, bouncing up and down on top of his thighs. you start to alternate with small, slow circles of your hips. you move them left to right and right to left. it makes sunghoon groan out into the living room. 

“fuck that feels so good, you’re gonna be the death of me.” 

“shh, don’t say that when you have a gunshot wound.” you reply, covering his mouth with your hand. you can feel him smirk against your hand, but he doesn’t remove it. 

you keep your hand on his mouth, making him keep quiet, preventing some of his oxygen. you focus on sliding up and down on his cock, making it hit your g spot everytime it enters your pussy. your eyes keep fluttering shut at the feeling of it. 

sunghoon’s eyes are burning into you, watching every single movement you make on top of him. he loves watching you bring yourself to the edge with his cock— using him. 

“fuck i love your cock.” you moan out, starting to feel the coil unwinding in your abdomen as the pleasure builds and builds. 

sunghoon then takes your hand off his mouth with his hands, you want to complain, to mock him for being disobedient like he did to you, but he speaks too quickly, “i love you.” 

his confession doesn’t startle you as much as it does make the pleasure inside of you turn to fire. it only fuels your need to make him feel good— to cum all over his cock. 

“i love you,” you tell him, leaning over to kiss him harshly. he keeps up with your messy pace, kissing you back the same way. your hips don’t stop bouncing on top of him as you make out. 

sunghoon’s hands wrap around your body, pulling you closer to him so your chests are touching. your own arms wrap around his neck. your chest is in his face as you focus on fucking him harder and harder. you can feel his lips start to migrate from your jaw to your neck to your nipples. he sucks each one in his mouth, biting them and swirling them with his tongue. 

“fuck, that’s it, sweetheart.” he words come out in a groan. “keep bouncing like that— you’re gonna make me cum.” 

a sob escapes your lips as the pleasure inside of you is about to spill at any second now. “i love you.” you repeat as you keep your head close to his. 

“i love you.” 

your nails start to dig into his back when you feel his one hand snake down between your bodies, starting to rub at your sensitive clit. you cry out, not wanting him to stop. sunghoon can feel the way your walls are rapidly clenching around his cock. he can tell how close you are to cumming. 

“are you going to cum for me, y/n?” he asks you, his voice hoarse and strained as he feels his own orgasm approaching. 

“yes, yes!” 

“cum then, baby. cum around my cock for me.” 

his words send you over the edge. your whole body tenses up as the pleasure overtakes you. it makes your toes curl and fingers dig deeper into his shoulders. you keep your face buried into his neck, letting him hear all your moans of his name. 

the second your wet walls started to spasm feverishly around his cock, sunghoon can’t hold back his own orgasm anymore. he lets out a loud grunt of your name as his cum shot out of his cock, filling your pussy up with it instead. you can only bounce a few more times on his cock before your knees completely give out with the rest of your tired body. 

you keep each other pulled close. your arms wrapped around one another as you both steady your breaths. there’s sweat all over you and your pussy is constantly throbbing around him. your mind is hazy as you try to comprehend what had just happened. 

sunghoon is the first to pull away, sitting back against the couch as he looks up at you. he laughs quietly at your tired face, your eyelids practically closed. even though he’s injured, he still gently lifts you off his cock and sets you beside him on the couch. your hair is a mess as it sprawls against the couch arm behind your head. 

sunghoon reaches to the coffee table to get tissues to clean up the mess between your legs. he presses soft kisses into your thighs as he cleans you. he makes sure to get every remnant of his cum off your pussy. he ignores the fact that the sight makes his cock twitch in his shorts again. 

sunghoon slips off his shirt and puts it on your body, covering you up. you hum at the smell of his cologne surrounding you. you can hardly believe how mentally and physically exhausted you are. the stress from the past week of taking care of him and the three men trying to hurt him really took a toll on you. 

sunghoon shifts you so he can lay behind you on the couch. he rests his head on yours as he kisses the side of your cheek. he stays there, close to you when he says, “i love you.” 

now, as you can think more clearly, you sigh, “i love you, too sunghoon but,” you turn over your to face him, eye to eye, “i can’t keep loving you if you keep risking your life for these cars. i can't constantly think if you’re dead or alive. it’s too stressful for me.” 

sunghoon looks at you, taking in all your features that he’s come to memorize. the features that he’s fallen in love with since the first time he’s seen you on the empty street behind the club. he’s seen you this past week almost pulling your hair out from worrying so much about him. you couldn’t even go to the bathroom without worrying that if you’d come back he’d be dead.

he saw the way you risked your own life for him during the gith with the three men. the way you dove for the gun just to protect him. he’s done what he never wanted to. he’s put you in danger. 

“if it’s between stealing cars and you,” he starts, his voice soft like a whisper, “then it’s you. it’s always you.”

you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face, “really?” 

“yeah, i’m done with the car stealing shit, then.” 

you grab his face and bring it to yours, meshing your lips together. both of you smile into the kiss— happy to start fresh with one another. 

“i love you.” you tell him again, pulling back to press kisses all over his face out of pure happiness. 

sunghoon laughs as you kiss him, “i love you, too.” he wraps his arms around your body, pulling you against his large frame, “but you should sleep now, i find out what your mouth feels like around my cock later.” he fake winces in pain when you shove him his shoulder— making you laugh before you settle against his body again. 

both of your eyes close as you drift off to sleep together on the couch. 

now that sunghoon has hit the brakes and left the fast lane for you, there’s no more danger or crime— just the two of you. and that’s all you could ever ask for.

@ taeghi, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY, AS LIKES MAKE IT HARD FOR WORK TO BE SPREAD AND ENJOYED BY OTHERS :)

stay safe everyone :)

taglist : @awqken @021894s @hvseung @hees-love @caratstick

@hollyoongs

@starry-eyed-bimbo @immelissaaa @sweetjaemss

@rayofsunshineeee @cloud-lyy @darlingjungwon

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@jaeyunlvrs @minaateez @wave2hoon

@jeonholics

[fatherbrat]

“what’d you do today while i was gone, hm?” suguru asks.

is he fucking serious?

even if you wanted to answer, you can’t. your mind is gone, any remnants of conscious thought leaving you the minute suguru bottomed out. all you can think about is the feeling of his cock pumping in and out your pussy. you think you might be drooling, and you’re sure he’s smiling down at you—the same way he always does when he knows he’s fucking you dumb—but you can’t bother to confirm that either, not with the way your eyes are glazed over, making everything you see look as fuzzy as your mind feels.

suddenly, he pulls out. you blink a couple times to clear up your vision, pussy clenching around the air.

“i asked you a question,” he says. his voice is in total contrast to his face. his expression is almost playful, but the words sound anything but.

“wh-what?” you’re scrambling to try and remember what question you’re supposed to be answering, but all you can think about is how much you need him to be buried inside of you again.

there’s mirth swimming in suguru’s eyes when you meet them. you frown, frustrated with how much he’s enjoying seeing you like this—completely and thoroughly fucked out.

his hand snakes down towards your clit, brushing against it with his knuckles. it makes your hips jerk, the consequence of already being overly sensitive from two previous orgasms.

“you wanna come?” he asks, abandoning his original question and slipping a single finger inside you. “again?”

it’s cruel. him asking you questions he already knows the answers to. expecting responses when he knows you can barely form a word, let alone a full sentence. teasing you with his middle finger while fully aware of how you ache for his cock.

regardless, you nod. frantic.

suguru only laughs, thumbing your clit leisurely. a shudder vibrates your whole body. “words, baby. use your words,” he taunts.

all you can manage is a shaky “please” as you writhe under his touch. he tuts, pushing your hips down into the mattress to keep you from moving. it’s maddening how vexed he looks when he’s the one who did this to you, denying your orgasm to satisfy his own sadistic whims. suguru catches the mean curl of your upper lip, your body communicating your irritation even when you can’t.

the smile he gives you is callous. “please what?”

your annoyance cuts through the brain fog enough for you to respond coherently. “please let me cum.”

suguru isn’t a fan of the exasperation in your voice, but he chooses to ignore it, murmuring a sweet “good girl” as he plunges his cock into you in one swift movement.

a string of curses falls from your lips, eyes watering as he thrusts at a steady tempo. he says something about your dirty mouth, but you hardly hear it over the hot, coiling feeling in your gut and the static sensation in your limbs.

it doesn’t take long for you to climax again, blissful and babbling again as your cunt flutters around suguru. he groans, not waiting for you to come down before pulling out for the final time.

he tugs your head up so he can tap the flushed tip of his cock on your bottom lip. the way you open your mouth is automatic, as if he pressed a button—a testament to how well trained you are.

you’re still shivering with the aftershocks of your orgasm when he comes in your mouth. it isn’t until after you’ve swallowed down his seed and he’s pressed a tender kiss to your lips that you come out of your cockdrunk daze.

when your vision refocuses, suguru looks smug. “you wanna tell me how your day went now?”

[chrissturnsfav]

⋆.˚✮ rapper!chris is just too hot

ᰔᩚ requested from @anonymous: need a blurb of her arresting him for being too hot just like sabrina did in the sns tour

the music is swelling around you—fans screaming your name as you skip around the stage. as you flash the audience a sexy smirk at the start of one of your most popular songs, you let the rhythm take over.

as you perform the suggestive song, you can see chris up in the private box, his tall figure leaning against the railing, his eyes locked on you with a cocky smirk on his lips nodding to the beat of your song.

that’s all it takes. the moment you spot him, something lustful shifts inside you. he knows every side of you, even the parts no one else sees. and right now, you can’t resist having a little fun with him.

the song comes to an end, and it's time for the arrest—a fun little game you do with the audience at the end of this song every time you perform it.

they already know what's coming, buzzing with anticipation and cheer. your eyes land on chris once again and you see him chuckling in disbelief, making you giggle through your suggestive smirk.

"uh, guys?" you speak into the microphone, your eyes darting from chris to the crowd repeatedly with the same smirk on your lips.

the audience laughs and yells in response, clearly eager to know who you've picked to be under arrest tonight as you beckon your backup dancers towards you, "guys, come, come here!"

they emerge from the darkness of the stage at your demand, and you huddle into a little circle with them. you turn your head to look back at chris up in the private box, "is it hot in here, or is it just him?" you say seductively into the microphone, pointing up on the private box.

chris shakes his head in amusement, and you can see him chuckling under his breath as all the cameras begin to point at him in the box along with a spotlight.

as the arena fills with siren noises, you look around, acting as if you don't know what's happening. you've mastered this little game, having done it countless times on tour.

the sea of people's screams get louder, clearly not expecting you to do this to chris. "chris, is it?" you giggle into the microphone, your stare at your boyfriend filling with desire.

"thas' me," he shouts back as a bodyguard escorts him down from the box to stand at the bottom of the stage.

"well, chris..." you begin into the microphone, smirking through your suggestive voice as you walk towards him on the stage to which he returns with his own cocky look. "i'm so sorry, but...i'm going to have to place you under arrest for being too hot."

chris stares up at you from the floor, his expression filled with awe but also a playful sense of desire and his eyes widen at your next action.

"wait a second..." you gasp dramatically into the mic, staring down at your sparkly costume as your silver, long skirt drops into a short one. "my clothes are just...falling off my body! good thing it's not cold in here..." you giggle.

the audience erupts into cheer, all eyes on the two of you as chris laughs up at you, holding his wrists out as a backup dancer hands you a pair of hot pink, fluffy handcuffs encrusted in rhinestones.

you take the handcuffs, stepping out of your skirt as chris smirks up at you with his eyes widened eyes and a clearly wicked, needy smirk on his lips.

"chris, baby, will you be my juno boy?" you say into the microphone, leaning down to handcuff chris as the audience screams with cheer, the romantic melody of your next song softly booming throughout the arena.

"y'can arrest me any day, mama," he mumbles back up at you over the music, prodding the inside of his cheek with that same smirk that makes your knees weak.

"ugh, i'll be waiting for you tonight, chris," you say into the microphone, securing the handcuffs with a click.

"i'll be wearing something pretty for you," you smirk, licking your lips at him as you stand back up, turning around and swaying your hips as you walk to the center of the stage.

chris raises his eyebrows at you as you walk away, his tongue sliding across his bottom lip while he watches your ass move in rhythm with each step you take.

as the audience continues to roar with unexpected cheer and screams at your seductive words, chris is escorted back to the private box, knowing one thing for certain.

and that is: he'll be holding you to what you just said after your show is over.

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵����𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: i hope i explained this properly if you don't know what the "under arrest" game is at sabrina carpenter's concerts LMAO. if not, def look it up on tiktok!

thank you for reading!! <3

@chrissturnsfav ™

[misswynters]

getting into an slight argument with ekko while heavily pregnant

featuring. ekko x pregnant! reader

use of she/her

a/n. you cannot tell me that ekko wouldn’t be the most protective person in the world for you if you were expecting

Warm lamplight filled the room as you settled into a worn armchair in Ekko’s little hideout in the Undercity. You absentmindedly rested a hand on your swollen belly, your fingers tracing small circles over the fabric of your tunic.

Ekko paced in front of you, his bat slung over his shoulder, his brow furrowed with frustration. “You should’ve waited for me,” he muttered, glancing back at you.

“I just went to get some fresh air,” you replied gently, trying to keep the calm in your tone. “It’s not like I went running through Zaun or something.”

He stopped pacing, turning to face you fully. His eyes softened for a moment before worry took over again. “You’re almost due, Firefly.”

“You worry too much,” you cut him off with a small smile, though your own patience was wearing thin. “I am perfectly fine by myself, Ekko. You know that.”

“I know,” he said quickly, running a hand over his hair. “I know you’re strong and could perfectly handle anything. But—”

“But what?” you asked, your voice sharpening just a little. The tension of carrying a whole human being inside you, and the constant fussing that came with it, was starting to run your patience thin. “You’re treating me like I’m fragile glass, plus the baby’s fine.”

He sighed, his shoulders sagging as he dropped his bat to the ground. “I’m just worry, okay?” His voice was quieter now, almost vulnerable. “I can’t help it.”

Your heart softened at his words, the frustration melting away. But before you could say anything, he stepped closer, dropping to his knees in front of you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his hands reaching for yours. “I didn’t mean to come off like that. I just…” His thumbs brushed over your knuckles, his head hanging for a moment. “I love you so much, and i’m really terrified of losing you both.”

“Ekko…” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

He looked up at you then, his wide brown eyes filled with guilt and love all at once. “I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t have gotten worked up. You know what you’re doing, Firefly. I know that.”

Without waiting for a response, he leaned forward and started pressing soft kisses to your hands.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured between pecks, each kiss trailing higher up your arm. “Sorry for being overbearing. Sorry for stressing you out.” His lips moved to your shoulder, then your cheek. “Sorry for being a total fool.”

A small laugh escaped you, despite yourself. “Ok y’know—”

But he wasn’t done. His hands cradled your face as he peppered kisses across your forehead, your temples, your nose. “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he whispered with every press of his lips, his smile growing as your laughter did.

“Okay, okay, I get it!” you giggled, swatting at him playfully.

He grinned, his eyes finally lighting up again as he rested his forehead against yours. “You forgive me?”

“Of course i do,” you said softly, brushing your thumb across his cheek.

His hand dropped to your belly, his touch gentle as his fingers splayed across the curve. “And you,” he said, directing his voice toward your stomach, “you’ve got the coolest mom in the entire world. But don’t pick up her stubbornness, okay?”

You gasped in mock offense, swatting him again. “Hey!”

He chuckled, leaning in to kiss you, properly this time. It was soft and sweet, lingering just long enough to remind you of all the love he carried for you. When he pulled back, his face was glowing with affection.

“I’ll do better,” he promised, his voice firm. “No more hovering. Well… maybe a little hovering. But I’ll chill out. For you.”

You smiled, cupping his cheek. “You don’t have to change. I love you just the way you are—even when you’re being overprotective.”

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment before peeking back at you. “I love you more than anything else. Both of you.”

As he moved to kiss your belly, your baby gave a small kick against his palm. His face lit up, and he looked up at you with wide eyes. “Did you feel that?”

You nodded, laughing. “They’re saying hi to you.”

Ekko beamed, pressing another kiss to your belly. “Hey, little one. I can’t wait to meet you. But try not to stress your mom out too much before then, okay?”

You rolled your eyes playfully but couldn’t stop the warmth that spread through your chest. As Ekko leaned back into you, resting his head on your lap, you combed your fingers through his hair, both of you settling into the quiet comfort of the moment.

taglist. @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @thesevi0lentdelights

banner @anitalenia

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

I have spent the last like 15minutes trying to find out how much money in specific digits may still remain unaccounted for, given the Pentagon's multi-trillion dollar assets (4.1tril) and liabilities (4.3tril).

I realize that may not sound like a lot of time, but I have worked in public policy review, congressional civil rights and public health lobbying, and electoral campaigning (among other areas) for at least 20 years now. I can usually find at least a LITTLE information on these kinds of things pretty quickly, even for aspects of government with security clearance threshholds. I'm going to keep looking, but for now the most information I've actually been able to find is this:

Out of 28 total audited entities within the Pentagon, 15 have failed, 1 was fully found to include falsifications or unverifiable claims, 3 are EXPECTED to recieve some sort of failing outcome, and a mere NINE have been able to fully account for their spending practices. Fewer than 1 out of 3.

I imagine that if it comes down to it I could cross reference budgets with grades and come up with estimates, but it is very possible that national security measures will prevent us from ever knowing the full extent of this abdication of responsibility from the Pentagon. That they are claiming to be "on track for a clean 2028 audit" as an appeal to progress is tantamount to setting taxpayer money on fire live on CSPAN.

Source

An unfathomable amount of money

[genshin-impact-updates]

The Brightest, Most Splendid, Most Resplendent Flame Reborn

"Even in the complex tapestry of Teyvat's night sky, such a dazzling constellation is seldom seen. Its scorching radiance is as though it wants to burn a hole in the very fabric of the sky itself. When it finally becomes a shooting star streaking toward the horizon, that fire will kindle even the deepest, coldest nights into brightest day."

—Sighed by "B" during a divination

"Mavuika? Ohh! You mean the one who competed with me in the Stadium of the Sacred Flame! Hahaha, you'd think an Archon could hold their liquor better than that! Uh... what? They said I got wasted first? No freaking way, not a chance! That day, I was... uh, hang on a sec, now why did I go see the Pyro Archon that day again...?"

—Varka's response to Alice's question about the results of the "meeting" in Natlan, as he scratched his head in thought

◆ Name: Mavuika

◆ Title: Night-Igniting Flame

◆ Natlan's Radiant Sun

◆ Gnosis: Pyro

◆ Constellation: Sol Invictus

Now, how to introduce her? The bearer of "Kiongozi," Mavuika, a leader completely worthy of leading the people of Natlan.

The woven scrolls and epics record all the most legendary of ancient deeds. Great heroes emerge, one after the other, and glory is passed down from generation to generation, and she has never failed to live up to such heavy expectations.

She who shoulders the title of the "strongest," she who respects all beings, be they strong or weak, and treats all equally.

For this, the people love her, sing her praises, and follow her willingly, with all their hearts.

Each time, when she addresses the Pilgrimage of the Return of the Sacred Flame, her hair flutters with the Sacred Flame as her majestic voice rings in our ears.

She casts her inspiring gaze upon every warrior, every Saurian. She calls upon every flame of Natlan, uniting all fires into a bright light to drive away the darkness.

As we support each other, stumbling through the valley of the long, boundless night, wiping the tears from the corners of our eyes, and finally struggle to lift up our heavy heads—

We see naught but that unwavering, unchanging red, like the sun rising in the east.

What did she sacrifice? What did she give up? What kind of will has led her to this day?

We have no doubt that she will lead Natlan to yet another victory.

Our Sun will never set.

[misswynters]

Ekko being protective while you are expecting

– short drabble

featuring. ekko x pregnant! reader

this was a late night thing so if there’s any mistakes let me know

Bright, golden sunlight filtered through the cracked glass of Zaun’s upper levels, casting a warm glow over the patchwork city. Rustic smell lingered throughout the entire city even in the places were you would think it would be. It was a sharp contrast to the pristine towers and polished streets of Piltover, but you’d come to love the chaotic beauty of Zaun. Its grit and resilience mirrored the spirit of its people, and despite everything, it had become home.

You adjusted the basket on your hip as you weaved through the narrow alleys, a small smile on your lips despite the slight strain in your back. The sounds of the city surrounded you: children laughing as they ran between stalls, the hiss of steam escaping from overhead pipes, and the occasional distant hum of machinery. Though Zaun was far from perfect, it had a heart. A fierce and determined spirit that had drawn you to it.

A boy darted out from a corner, his face smudged with dirt and his eyes wide with curiosity. “Miss!” he called out, holding up a small metal trinket he’d likely scavenged. “For good luck!”

Your heart melted at his gesture, and you crouched carefully to meet him at eye level. “Thank you, sweetheart,” you said warmly, taking the trinket and ruffling his hair. “Here, this is for you.” You handed him a piece of fruit from your basket, earning a toothy grin before he bolted off, his laughter echoing through the alley.

“Shouldn’t be out here on your own,” came a low, familiar voice from above.

You straightened, glancing up to find one of Ekko’s scouts perched on a rusted ledge, his sharp eyes scanning the area. He nodded at you before disappearing into the shadows, leaving behind only the faint sound of his boots against metal. You sighed, shaking your head with a mix of amusement and exasperation. Ekko.

Ever since you’d told him you were expecting, his protectiveness had gone into overdrive. If he wasn’t by your side, he made sure someone else was. and it wasn’t just for appearances. You knew how much he cared, how deeply he felt the responsibility to keep you safe. But it didn’t stop you from feeling a bit smothered at times.

You resumed your walk, stopping occasionally to hand out bread or share a kind word with someone in need. It was who you were, helping others brought you joy, even if it meant ignoring the occasional twinge of discomfort in your back. But as you reached out to give an elderly woman a loaf of bread, you felt a familiar presence behind you, the air around you shifting.

“Thought I told you to rest,” Ekko’s voice came, soft but firm.

You turned, your heart skipping at the sight of him. He leaned casually against the corner of a building, his staff slung over his shoulder, his sharp gaze fixed on you. His white hair gleamed in the sunlight, and there was a mixture of exasperation and fondness in his expression as he approached.

“I’m fine, Ekko,” you said, offering him a small smile. “I was just—”

“Helping people,” he interrupted, his lips quirking slightly. He stepped closer, his presence grounding, and his eyes softened as they drifted to the curve of your stomach. “I know, you’re always helping people.”

“It’s important to me,” you replied, your hands resting over his as he reached out to touch your bump. His palm was warm and steady, and for a moment, the world around you faded away.

“I know,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s why I love you. But you’ve got to let me take care of you now. Both of you.”

The sincerity in his tone made your chest tighten with emotion. You leaned into him, letting his strength envelop you. “You already do,” you whispered, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “I’ve never felt safer.”

Ekko chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around you. “Good. Because I’ve got eyes everywhere, just so you know. You can’t take two steps without someone reporting back to me.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t suppress a laugh. “I figured as much. You’re like a hawk.”

“Damn right,” he said, his lips brushing against your forehead. “You’re my whole world now. You think I’m just gonna let you wander off into danger?”

“Danger?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “I was handing out bread, not fighting Chem-Barons.”

He laughed, the sound low and rich, as he pulled you closer. “Doesn’t matter. This place has its risks, and I’m not taking any chances. You’re extremely important to me.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you reached up to cup his face, your fingers brushing along his jawline. “I’ll be careful,” you promised, your voice soft. “For you, the boy who worries.”

“For me,” he echoed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “And for them.” His hand rested protectively over your stomach, his touch radiating warmth and love.

Ekko’s arms lingered around you for a moment longer before he sighed, resigned. “Fine,” he muttered, his tone light but firm. “But I’m coming with you. Not taking my eyes off you.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his protectiveness, even if it sometimes felt overbearing. “I don’t need a bodyguard, you know.”

He raised a skeptical brow. “You’re carrying our kid in Zaun. You need a whole army.”

Despite the exasperation in his words, there was no mistaking the affection in his voice. He took your basket from you, his staff resting casually on his shoulder as he fell into step beside you. “Lead the way, sweetheart,” he said, a playful edge to his tone, though you could see how his eyes darted to every shadow and figure as you moved through the streets.

You stopped occasionally to talk to people—an older man with a limp, a mother trying to soothe her crying baby, a group of kids selling hand-crafted trinkets. Each time, Ekko hung back slightly, letting you do what you did best but staying close enough that he could intervene if needed.

At one point, you crouched to hand a young girl a piece of fruit, smiling as she thanked you with wide, grateful eyes. Ekko’s gaze softened as he watched, a quiet admiration blooming on his face. This was why he fell for you. Not just your kindness but the way you carried it so effortlessly, even in a place as harsh as Zaun.

But as the day wore on, the basket grew lighter, and your steps began to slow. You passed by a rickety stall that had toppled over, its contents—a pile of salvaged wood and fabric—spilling onto the ground. Without thinking, you bent down to help the vendor gather the scattered pieces.

“Careful,” Ekko warned, his voice sharp with concern as he moved closer.

“I’m fine,” you said lightly, reaching for a particularly large plank. But as you tried to lift it, a sharp twinge shot through your back, and you let out a soft gasp, immediately straightening up.

Ekko was at your side in an instant, his hands on your shoulders. “What happened?” he asked, his voice steady, though his eyes betrayed his worry.

“Just… a twinge,” you admitted, wincing slightly. “Nothing serious.”

He didn’t look convinced. “Let me see.” Without waiting for a protest, he gently guided you to lean against a nearby wall, his hands running lightly over your back. “Does it hurt here?” he asked, pressing gently along your spine.

You winced again, and his jaw tightened. “That’s it. You’re done for the day.”

“Ekko—”

“No,” he said firmly, his hands resting on your hips as he looked you in the eye. “You’re done. You’re already doing too much. What if something worse happens? What if—”

He stopped himself, taking a deep breath to steady his voice. The panic was there, just beneath the surface, but he refused to let it show. Instead, he leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. “I don’t like seeing you get hurt,” he said softly.

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his words. Reaching up, you cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing against his skin. “I’m okay,” you whispered, meeting his gaze. “I promise.”

But Ekko wasn’t having it. He pulled back, taking the basket and slinging it over his shoulder. “We’re going home,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And you’re not carrying anything heavier than a pillow until this baby’s here.”

Despite the sternness of his words, his hand was impossibly gentle as it found yours, intertwining your fingers as he led you back through the streets. Along the way, he shot sharp glares at anyone who so much as looked at you the wrong way, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive.

When you finally reached the hideout you shared, he helped you settle onto the bed, fussing over every detail. He would bring you water, adjusting the pillows, even insisting on propping up your feet.

“You’re ridiculous,” you teased, though your smile betrayed how much you appreciated his care.

“Yeah, well, you love it,” he shot back, his grin softening as he sat beside you. His hand found your stomach, his thumb brushing in gentle circles. “I just want to keep you comfortable.”

“You already do,” you said, leaning into him. “More than you know.”

Ekko leaned down to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering there. “Still,” he murmured. “I’ll always do more.”

As the two of you sat there, the weight of the day finally beginning to fade, you realized just how lucky you were. To have someone like ekko be the father of your child.

[mcrveilles]

just this once // ln4

still overwhelmed, still can't believe this this is getting to much attention 😭 ❤️🫶 THANK YOU FOR YOUR FEEDBACK AND YOUR RESPONSES I LOVE EVERY BIT OF IT

also why are my WORDS LIMITED???? I want to write MORE wtf tumblr

word count: 3.7k with some extras in the form of social media posts warnings: casual intimacy themes, secrecy, conflicts of loyalty, romantic tension and suggestive content includes: friends to lovers, fluff, best friends little sister, brothers best friend summary: after things cooled down for a little while, you have to face lando and your feelings once again... this time with consequences.

tag list: @sltwins @sarx164 @hadesnumber1daughter @fullmugwolffish @willowsnook @sageskiesf1 @f1fantasys @cmleitora @rawr-123s-stuff @leclercdream @chezmardybum @landossainz @cloud-55 @sillyfreakfanparty @harrysdimple05 @mwuaferrari @milkysoop

PART FOUR/2 previous part - next part

The sun dips low over the sky, painting it in shades of amber and rose as you finish getting ready. You’ve been pacing your hotel room for the last twenty minutes, debating whether you should even go to this dinner. Max made it sound casual, just friends and some of Lando’s crew, but the way your stomach twists tells you it’s anything but simple.

Since Monaco, things with Lando have been... complicated. He stayed over after Qualifying, the two of you wrapped in an unspoken agreement to keep things platonic. But nothing about the way he looked at you, the way his presence filled your space, felt friendly. Then there was the race—his P4 finish—and the small get-together afterward, where you both acted like nothing had happened. Since then, his schedule’s relentless pace kept you apart, exchanging only a few texts that danced around anything real. Just keeping in touch.

And now, this dinner.

You change into your favorite outfit, something understated but flattering, and force yourself to take a deep breath. It’s just a dinner. You’re friends, you tell yourself.

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The restaurant hums with life as you step inside, trailing Max and Pietra. Warm light glints off polished wood and delicate glassware, and the buzz of conversation wraps around you like a soft blanket. You glance at the private room Max mentioned earlier, feeling your pulse quicken. You know who’s waiting there.

When you walk in, the first person you see is him. He’s tipped back in his chair at the head of the table, laughing at something someone said, his grin so easy and familiar it makes your chest ache. Then his eyes land on you, and for a moment, everything else in the room seems to blur.

“About time,” he says, standing up in one smooth motion. His voice is light, teasing, but there’s something in his gaze that sends a spark down your spine. He greets Max with an effortless handshake-hug, Pietra with a peck on the cheek, and then his attention falls to you.

“Stranger,” he says. “Lando,” you reply, keeping your voice even as you raise an eyebrow. His grin tilts, just a little lopsided, and the look in his eyes feels like a challenge.

The dinner is exactly what you expected—good food, great wine, and laughter that fills the space like it’s been waiting for all of you to show up. Max, seated on your right, is in big-brother mode, making sure you try everything and nudging your glass whenever it’s even close to empty. Across from you, Pietra chats animatedly with one of Lando’s friends, and you smile along, but your attention keeps drifting. Lando is at the far end of the table, surrounded by people who hang onto his every word. He’s effortlessly charismatic, telling some story you can’t quite hear, but that has everyone laughing. Except every now and then, his eyes meet yours, just for a second. It’s like he’s checking in, or maybe daring you to look away first.

You don’t.

When he gets up to refill his drink, he passes behind you, his hand brushing lightly over your shoulder. The touch is so brief, so casual, that no one else notices. But it sends a shiver through you anyway. “Having fun?” he murmurs, his voice low and private, meant just for you. “Loads,” you reply, trying to sound unimpressed even as heat rises to your cheeks.

His chuckle is soft, almost affectionate, before he moves away. You tell yourself to focus, to ignore the way your heart is beating just a little too fast.

Later, the table splits into smaller conversations, and somehow, Lando ends up next to you. Max is too busy laughing at something Pietra said to notice when Lando leans in, his shoulder brushing yours. “This is torture,” he says under his breath, his knee knocking lightly against yours under the table. Your throat goes dry. “What is?” “You. Wearing this dress.” His voice is teasing, but there’s an edge to it that makes you hold your breath.

You don’t know how to respond, and for a moment, you just sit there, the noise of the room fading into the background. Then Max glances over, and Lando straightens, all easy charm again. “What are you two whispering about?” Max asks, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. Lando doesn’t miss a beat. “Just telling your sister she has terrible taste in wine.”

“Hey!” you protest, and the table laughs. Max shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “Don’t listen to him. He drinks that sparkling stuff like it’s water.” The conversation moves on, and you pretend everything is normal, even as Lando’s knee stays pressed against yours under the table. And you don’t move away.

As the laughter around the table flows easily, your own chuckle gets caught in your throat when Lando leans back in his chair, stretching casually, but you don’t miss the way his knee once again brushes against yours under the table. It’s subtle, almost as if he’s testing to see how long he can get away with it without anyone noticing. Your pulse quickens, and you do your best to focus on Pietra, who’s telling an animated story about a mishap at her last work event.

But Lando is… distracting. His words replay in your head on an endless loop—”this is torture”—and you swear you can still feel the ghost of his knee against yours under the table. It’s maddening, really. The ease with which he teases you under Max’s nose, how effortlessly he switches back to joking with the group like he didn’t just upend your entire sense of composure.

You glance his way and catch him smirking, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. His focus shifts back to his drink, but there’s a flicker of something in his expression—playful yet deliberate—that makes it impossible to ignore him. You try to shake it off. You tell yourself that it’s just Lando being Lando: cheeky, teasing, good at making people feel... something. Just like always. Except this doesn’t feel like always, and that’s the problem. You’re trying to focus on the ongoing conversation. Something about summer plans, maybe? You’re not even sure anymore. Lando is leaning back in his chair again now, one arm draped lazily over the back of his seat, looking every bit like someone who hasn’t a care in the world. But he keeps glancing at you when he thinks no one else will notice.

“Alright,” Max announces suddenly, clapping his hands together as if he’s about to make a grand proclamation. “Drinks back at mine?” There’s a chorus of agreement around the table as chairs start scraping against the floor and people gather their things. You hesitate, glancing at your phone like you might have an excuse to slip away. But before you can concoct some half-hearted reason to head back to the hotel, Pietra loops an arm through yours, effectively trapping you. “You’re coming, right?” although she forms it as a question, you know it’s really not.

“I wouldn’t want to miss out,” you reply lightly, smiling at Pietra. Who, satisfied with your response, let’s go of you to join Max again. Your stomach twists again when you see Lando standing by the door, your coat in his hands, waiting like he has all the time in the world. His curls are a little messy, his grin lazy, yet sharp as his eyes meet yours in the dim light. It’s as if he can sense your hesitation and is daring you to pull away. “Come on, stranger,” he says softly, leaning just close enough that his voice feels like it’s wrapping around you. “Can’t bail now.” You narrow your eyes at him, trying to ignore the way your heart jumps at the way he towers ever so slightly over you. “I didn’t say I was bailing.” “No?” His gaze drops briefly to your phone in your hand, then flicks back up to catch yours. “Good,” he says, his voice dipping lower, quieter. “Because I wasn’t going to let you.”

It’s infuriating how easily he gets under your skin. With a huff of mock-annoyance—because genuine annoyance is impossible when he’s looking at you like that—you slide your arms into the coat he’s still holding and step away before the spark between you burns any brighter.

The group spills out into the cool night air, laughter echoing down the cobblestone street as everyone makes their way toward Max’s flat. Pietra loops her arm through yours again, chatting about some new café she wants to try tomorrow for breakfast. The walk to Max’s place is short, but it feels like an eternity with Lando so close behind you in the group. Every step feels charged, like there’s an invisible string stretched taut between the two of you. You try not to think about what he said earlier—or how his knee pressed against yours, or how warm his hand had been on your shoulder at dinner—but it’s useless. He’s inescapable, even when he isn’t touching you.

When you finally reach Max's apartment, everyone else appears calm and carefree. However, you have come to the realization that you can no longer let Lando do this to you. You don’t know if he isn’t aware of the drama it would cause if Max found out or if he just doesn’t care about the consequences—you however do care about the consequences. While never openly spoken about, you know how your brother would feel about this. He’d hate it. Lando is his best friend and you are his little sister. Two things that, frankly, shouldn’t mingle so close. So you make the decision to talk to Lando tonight.

It’s not like you don’t care or that you don’t feel things when you’re around him, but is acting on it really worth the pain it could and would cause?

Eventually everyone is spread across the living room, laughing and reminiscing, the buzz of good drinks and great music keeping the energy alive. You’re perched on the arm of the couch, balancing your drink as Pietra chats animatedly beside you. Across the room, Lando lounges in a chair, looking infuriatingly relaxed, his attention shifting to you every few minutes. It’s subtle, the way his gaze lingers just a fraction too long, but you feel it—like a spark skittering across your skin. You pretend not to notice, focusing on Pietra's story about her disastrous attempt at paddleboarding last summer. But when Lando catches your eye mid-sentence, raising his brow in a silent tease, your stomach flips.

Max comes in from the kitchen, holding a fresh beer, his presence immediately commanding attention. “Alright, whose idea was it to leave me in charge of snacks?” he announces. “I could barely find some crisps, let alone figure out this sweets situation.”

Pietra groans. “Max, it’s literally all in the cupboard. You just have to put it in some bowls.”

“But that’s where you put them!” Max protests, plopping down beside Pietra. His knee bumps yours, but his focus is on his girlfriend, who shakes her head fondly. Lando seizes the moment to move closer, taking the newly vacated spot on the couch next to you. “You okay there?” he murmurs, low enough that only you can hear. “Perfectly fine,” you shoot back, matching his tone with a pointed glare. But your attempt at indifference falters when his knee brushes yours—deliberately, you’re sure. “You’re really gonna keep your distance tonight, are you?” he asks, his voice light but carrying that edge of challenge that makes your heart race. “I am sitting next to you,” you counter, swirling your drink for effect. “You’re just mad I’m busy talking to everyone else tonight.” He chuckles softly, the sound brushing against your skin like velvet. “Give it time.”

Before you can respond, Max’s voice cuts through the room. “What are you two whispering about now?” His tone is joking, but there’s a hint of suspicion there that makes you stiffen. “Just telling your sister she needs to get some updated LN4 merch for the weekend,” Lando says smoothly, leaning back like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Excuse me?” you retort, feigning outrage. “That stuff is expensive, genius.” The group erupts into laughter, and Max shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “Of course, it is. You should stick to the Quadrant merch anyhow.”

"Hey now," Lando protests with a grin, "I'm hurt, Max. Thought we were friends." The conversation shifts, but you can't shake the tension thrumming beneath your skin. Lando's presence beside you is electric, and you're acutely aware of every subtle movement he makes. You try to focus on the others, laughing at the right moments and nodding along, but your mind keeps drifting back to the man next to you. While Lando's quick thinking may have diffused the situation, it only reinforces your resolve to talk to him. You need to set things straight before they spiral out of control.

As the night wears on, you find yourself growing more and more restless. You've been careful to mingle with everyone, pointedly avoiding extended conversations with Lando. But his presence is a constant, hovering at the edge of your awareness. You catch his eye across the room more than once, and each time, that familiar spark ignites in your chest.

Finally, as the party begins to wind down, you see your chance. Lando slips out onto the balcony, and after a moment's hesitation, you follow. The cool night air is a relief after the warmth of the apartment, and for a moment, you just stand there, letting it wash over you. "Thought you might follow me out here," Lando says softly, not turning around. He's leaning against the railing, his profile illuminated by the city lights below. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. "Lando, we need to talk."

He turns to face you, his expression unreadable in the dim light. "I was wondering when you'd say that," he says softly, a hint of resignation in his voice. You step closer, careful to keep some distance between you. The city sprawls below, a tapestry of twinkling lights and distant sounds, but your focus narrows to the man in front of you. The air feels thick with unspoken words and simmering tension.

"This... whatever this is," you begin, gesturing vaguely between the two of you, "it needs to stop." Lando's brow furrows, a flash of hurt crossing his features before he schools his expression. "What exactly are you referring to?" he asks, his tone carefully neutral. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. "The touches. The looks. The... the way you've been pushing boundaries tonight. It's not fair, Lando." Your words hang in the air between you, heavy with implication. Lando's jaw clenches, a muscle twitching as he processes what you've said. For a moment, the only sound is the distant hum of the city below and the muffled laughter from inside.

"Not fair?" Lando repeats, his voice low but charged with emotion. "What's not fair is pretending there's nothing between us." He takes a step closer, his eyes searching yours in the dim light. "Do you really want to ignore this? To act like we don't feel anything when we're around each other?" You bite your lip, trying to ignore the way your heart races at his proximity. "Lando, it's not that simple. Max is your best friend, and he's my brother. We can't just—"

"Can't what?" he interrupts, his voice rising slightly. "Can't be honest about how we feel? Can't take a chance on something that could be amazing?"—"Shh!" you hiss, glancing nervously at the sliding glass door. "Keep your voice down. Do you want everyone to hear?" Lando runs a hand through his curls, frustration evident in every line of his body. "Maybe I do," he says, though he lowers his voice. "Maybe I'm tired of sneaking around, of pretending I don't want to be near you every second we're in the same room."

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you struggle to maintain your composure. "It's not just about us," you argue, your voice rising slightly. "What about Max? He's your best friend, Lando. How do you think he'd react?" Lando's eyes flash with a mix of frustration and determination. "I care about Max, you know I do. But I'm not going to let fear of his reaction dictate my life. Or my feelings." You glance nervously towards the sliding glass door, worried that your raised voices might carry inside. The last thing you need is for someone to come investigate. "Please, keep your voice down," you hiss, even as your own emotions threaten to overwhelm you. "No," Lando says, his tone firm but not unkind. "I'm tired of keeping quiet about this. About us." He takes another step closer, close enough that you can smell his cologne, a mixture of citrus and something woody that makes your head spin. His proximity is intoxicating, and you find yourself swaying towards him almost unconsciously.

"Lando," you breathe, your resolve weakening with every passing second. The city lights dance in his eyes, casting shadows across his face that only enhance his features. You can see the determination there, the longing, and it mirrors the ache in your own chest. But he's not listening. His eyes are locked on yours, dark and intense in the city lights. "I can't keep pretending," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Can you?" And before you can answer, before you can even think, he closes the distance between you.

His lips crash against yours, urgent and desperate. For a heartbeat, you're frozen, caught between shock and desire. Then, as if a dam has broken, you're kissing him back with equal fervor. Your hands find their way to his curls, fingers tangling in the soft strands as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. The world narrows to this moment—the taste of him, the warmth of his body, the way your heart threatens to burst from your chest.

It's everything you've been trying to deny, everything you've been afraid to want, distilled into a single, burning instant.

But reality crashes back in like a bucket of ice water, and you jerk away, your eyes wide with panic, breathing hard, your lips tingling and your mind reeling. "We can't," you whisper, your voice trembling. "Lando, we can't do this." Even as every fiber of your being screams to pull him close again. Lando's eyes are wide, his chest heaving as he stares at you, looking as stunned as you feel.

Before he can respond, the sound of the balcony door sliding open makes you both freeze. You take a hasty step back, your heart pounding so loudly you're sure everyone can hear it. Max steps out onto the balcony, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene before him. You and Lando are standing suspiciously close, both of you looking flushed and slightly disheveled. The air between you crackles with tension, and for a moment, the only sound is the distant hum of the city below.

"What's going on out here?" Max asks, his tone light but laced with suspicion. His gaze flicks between you and Lando, searching for answers in your expressions. Lando, ever quick on his feet, lets out a low whistle and gestures broadly at the cityscape. "Just admiring the view, mate," he says, his voice only slightly strained. "Can't beat a night like this, can you?" You nod enthusiastically, perhaps a bit too eagerly. "It's gorgeous," you agree, willing your racing heart to slow. "I was just telling Lando how I could stay out here all night."

Max leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. The look he gives you is one you've known since childhood—the one that says he's not quite buying what you're selling. "Really?" he drawls. "Because from where I was standing, it looked like you two were having a pretty intense conversation."

You feel your face flush as Max's gaze bores into you, his expression a mixture of concern and growing suspicion. The air on the balcony suddenly feels thick, charged with an uncomfortable tension that even the cool night breeze can't dispel. The city lights twinkle innocently behind you, a stark contrast to the tension crackling in the air. You open your mouth to respond, but the words stick in your throat. Lando shifts beside you, and you can feel the heat radiating off him, a reminder of what just transpired.

"Max," Lando starts, his voice steady despite the circumstances. But Max holds up a hand, silencing him. "Max," Lando repeats, forcing a laugh that sounds hollow even to your ears. "Mate. We were just..."—"No," Max says, his tone sharp. "I want to hear it from my sister." His gaze locks onto you, and suddenly you feel like you're fifteen again, caught sneaking out to a party. Except this is so much worse.

You take a deep breath, willing your voice not to shake. "Max, it's not—"

"Don't," he interrupts, his eyes flashing. "Don't lie to me. I've seen the way you two have been acting all night. The whispers, the looks. And now I find you out here, alone, looking like..." He gestures vaguely at your disheveled appearance. Your stomach drops as you realize the jig is up. Max's eyes narrow as he looks between you and Lando, taking in your flushed faces, the slight dishevelment of Lando's curls where your fingers had been moments ago.

The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken truths. You can hear the muffled sounds of the party inside, laughter and music that seems to belong to another world entirely. A cool breeze ruffles your hair, carrying with it the scent of the city and the faintest trace of Lando's cologne.

"How long?" Max asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "How long has this been going on?" You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. Lando steps forward, his shoulder brushing yours in a gesture that feels both protective and defiant. "Max," he begins, his voice steady despite the tension thrumming through his body. "It's not what you think."

"Oh really?" Max's laugh is bitter, cutting through the night air like a knife. "Because what I think is that my best friend and my sister have been sneaking around behind my back. Am I wrong?"

[ardenchambres]

“No. No, no, no. What does he mean—what do you mean?”

Viggo couldn’t see Nott blinking, but somehow he was sure that was what they were doing. Magni crossed their arms.

“What did you expect?” they asked as Njord leaned against them. “You teamed up with us, treated us like we were your children when we were planning to fight Drago, and then… what? Expected us to go on fighting like we always have? We don’t have a father and you treated us like your sons, so that’s what we are now.”

Viggo stared at the three, dumbfounded.

“…Which means you have a responsibility to us now,” Nott rasped, barely a whisper. Viggo turned to him, feeling the phantom sensation of spiders crawling up his back as he spotted bright eyes through the holes of their helmet not unlike those of their pet Night Fury.

Magni chuckled. “Now you really have to put a stop to the Dragon Trade,” he said, cackling about it (in an eerily familiar way) with an undertone of seriousness. A staff tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned to the Dragon Thief.

“They’re right, you know,” they whispered, even more striking than Nott’s broken bow of silence had been. “And I’m sure you can think of plenty reasons that not killing dragons would be more profitable. We can show you some, if you like.”

They were going to be the death of Viggo. He was sure of it.

The villain decides to do the classic "team up to defeat a common foe" trope but it's been taking a lot longer than they had expected,the heroes are getting emotionally attached and it's starting to get weird.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Meet the Family 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.(petite!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: I love writing toxic people.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

“Mr. Hansen--” You begin, choking on your error, “Lloyd, my flight--” 

“Christ, I told you, cancel it. I’ll add the difference to your next check,” he grits under his breath. 

You plant your feet, shifting despite your effort as he keeps his grip on your hand. He turns back with a grunt. 

“What’re you doing?” He asks. 

“No, what are you doing?” You throw back. “What the hell is going on?” 

“First, watch that sweet mouth of yours. Second, we’ve been through this, Pixie pie. You just need to play along,” he keeps his voice low and peeks over his shoulder. “Loosen up a bit.” He loosens his hold on you and runs his hand up your sleeve. “Hm, I guess I shoulda told you to dress up a bit.” 

“What?” You look down at your black cotton tea-length dress. You chose it for comfort but it’s not entirely frumpy. The ribbed stockings might not add much to the attire however. 

“Just...” He grabs your shoulders and nudges them back, “push the chest out a bit.” 

“Ugh,” you clasp onto his wrists, “stop. Okay. I’ll stay for dinner but I can’t miss my flight--” 

“You have to,” he argues. 

“You realise this is wildly inappropriate,” you say. 

“Do you really expect anything different?” He tweaks a brow. “You’re staying. I’m not doing this alone. I put it off for a decade already--” 

“Jesus--” 

“No blasphemy either,” he lets go of you and presses his finger to your lips. You growl and shove his hand away. 

“I want a bonus, a big bonus--” 

He hushes you and waves his hands. He leans back and once more looks over his shoulders. “Later. We’ll deal with numbers in private. Right now, you need to come meet your in-laws.” 

You squint at him. It’s an act, you remind yourself, but something about his commitment to it makes you uneasy. You know better than to believe a word that comes out of his mouth but there’s a degree of earnestness in him that’s unsettling. 

“Baby, please, don’t look at me like that,” he steps closer, “I need you to look at me like I’m the second coming, okay? We’re madly in love, you and I.” Your eyes widen and he sighs, “okay, you’re not scared of me.” 

You neutralise your expression and blow out a long breath. You shake away the tension and shrug. It’s as good as you can do. 

“Here,” he grabs your wrist and turns, guiding your arm through his, “just smile pretty for me.” 

He hooks your elbow with his and urges you onward. You steel yourself for the room of strangers as their voices drift through the archway.  

You enter the front room and quickly scan the space; there’s a large-mouthed hearth, lit and draped in evergreen and berries; a long cream sectional, a matching duo of armchairs, and a chaise in the same shade; a low glass coffee table with a golden perch and a console table in a similar style along the wall crowded with bottles and crystal; an area rug in a smooth white with patterns in dulcet beige and rich butterscotch; and the low din is cast by tea lights daintily set around the space in glass holders and candelabra. 

More pressing than the decor are the bodies that fill the room. You recognise Ransom as he speaks with an older woman with short white hair and thick-framed glasses. She wears a red pantsuit with a gold blouse. Very festive. 

You glance over at Lloyd and take him in fully. You hadn’t paid much attention for the whirlwind all around. He wears a pair of evergreen slacks and a sweater with a reindeer's face on the front. He wouldn’t even let you put tinsel on your desk but now he’s dressed like a kid in a holiday parade. 

“Looks like someone didn’t get the memo,” a tall blonde woman approaches with a glass of pale wine in hand. You try not to look with concern at her rounded middle; it sticks out starkly as her long limbs are thin and lithe. “A very grim Christmas indeed.” 

“Lillian,” Lloyd faces the woman about his own height. She has his eyes and his lips. You assume their relation before he declares it. “My sister, Pixie,” he gestures to her carelessly. 

“Older sister,” she preens and rests her hand on her swollen stomach. Your eyes flick away from the crystal in her hand. 

“By about thirty-one seconds,” Lloyd scoffs. 

“Oh, sweetie, it’s non-alcoholic,” she swirls the wine in her glass, “she’s so tiny and quiet.” 

“Ahem,” you clear your throat, “it’s nice to meet you.” 

She laughs, “oh, so polite. Entirely not his type.” 

You try not to react. You agree. You know the women that Lloyd really likes. You’ve screened their calls until they just give up on getting a second date. 

“Believe it or not, Lil, you’re not everyone’s type,” Lloyd retorts. “I think your ex-husband would agree. The second one too.” Lloyd lifts his chin and looks around, “is the third here or are we on number four?” 

“Lovely,” she spits. “Love you too, brother.” 

He shakes his head and draws you away from her. She raises her brows and her glass and sips. You let him take you away. You already despise most of these people. The room radiates with derision. Your family might have some grudges but there’s a general air of good will. 

“I need a drink,” he mutters. 

You gladly follow him to the table. He pours himself a tumbler from the boxy decanter. He sighs as he picks it up but stops himself from drinking. 

“Well, help yourself,” he says. 

You hesitate but not for long. You need something if you’re going to get through this. You pour yourself some chardonnay and sidle away from the table. You check your watch as you raise your glass. 

“Don’t fucking worry about your flight,” he hisses under his breath. “If I’m not getting out of this, you aren’t either.” 

“But why?” You ask behind the glass. 

“Not right now,” he warns and nods at another figure as they approach. “Uncle Benson.” 

“Junior,” the man returns. You drink your wine and don’t comment on the epithet. “Where’s the old man?” 

“Where he always is,” Lloyd replies. 

“Mm, and this is...” the older man looks at you pointedly, dipping his chin to do so. 

“Pixie. My fiancee,” Lloyd answers dully, almost deflating. 

“Benson,” the man offers his hand, “but a pretty girl like you can call me Benny.” 

“Benny,” Lloyd repeats to himself in confusion. 

You shake Benson’s hand, “um, thanks, nice to meet you.” 

“Mm, very nice to meet you,” he lifts your hand and smushes his lips to your knuckles. He clings to you, petting your hand. “You’re gorgeous, what’re you doing with this lump?” 

“Uncle,” Lloyd drones. 

“Adorable,” Benson inches closer, “my inheritance is bigger than his, among other things.” 

“Alright,” Lloyd snatches your hand away from him, “go have some water, Benson,” he growls, “think you’ve been into the brandy.” 

“I’d like to get into something else,” Benson snickers. 

You almost laugh, despite your disgust. You’ve heard that line before. Lloyd puts himself between you and the older man. “I think that’s why Carolyn filed the papers, huh.” 

“Oh, you little twat,” Benson snarls. “Fine, fine, I’ll leave you to disappoint her on your own.” 

Lloyd tuts and shakes his head as the man lumbers off. He turns around and drains his glass. It’s strange, seeing him in his natural habitat; he’s not so ‘alpha’ here. 

“Let’s get the rounds over with.” He grumbles. 

Your wine lasts you through the introductions. Two more uncles; Carter and Linus, along with their wives, Andrea and Angela. Then the full-blooded aunts; four of them, Raquel, Shanna, Beatrice, and Lana. All of them tall, blonde, and bold in their own way. Then a batch of cousins you can’t keep sorted; Ransom and his mother Linda, among them, with no explanation as to the rest of their tribe. 

Lloyd pours himself more whiskey. You abstain from a refill and stand near the wall, observing the wilderness of entitled trust-funders. It explains so much yet inspires so many more questions. You never expected Lloyd to be the dark horse. 

“Lonely?” The timbre startles you along with the twisting pinch on your ass.  

You yipe and snag the attention of several sets of eyes around the room, not least of all Benson, drooling over another snifter of dark alcohol. You swat Ransom’s hand away and face him amid the row of laughter. Despite the airs they put on, your audience is more amused than appalled. 

“Where’s your prince, huh?” Ransom asks. “All that whiskey and...” He holds up his index then lets it go limp, “don’t think it’ll be a very peppy after party, sweetheart.” 

You sniff and cross your arms. These people are at least consistent, grossly so. It makes you wonder why Lloyd was so insistent that you watch your mouth, especially when you’ve never stooped to his level before. 

“Is it much of a party if there’s only one attendee?” You counter. 

He narrows his eyes and tilts his head, “what?” 

“Nothing,” you shake our head. You don’t need to explain the joke. Besides, this is all fake. Don’t let it get to you. 

“So, how long did he wait to put that ugly thing on your finger?” Ransom asks. 

You shrug, “long enough.” 

“Did he do the whole schtick? Get down on one knee? Put the ring in your wine glass?” He prods. 

“I’ll let him tell the story,” you say. 

“Hm, never knew a woman so unexcited about a wedding,” he snorts. 

“Maybe I’m just unexcited by my company,” you back away as his hand jiggles at his side. You eye his fingers, wary of another pinch. 

“Fine, marriage is boring anyways. What’s his favourite position? I always figured he lets the ladies do all the work,” he snickers. 

You stare at him. Not quite as offended as annoyed. You could ask him which hand he uses but you are not letting Lloyd drag you that low. Why are you even letting him put your through this? 

“Hugh,” Lloyd appears and slides his arm over your shoulders. 

“Little L,” Ransom retorts dryly. 

“Shut up,” Lloyd sneers as you resist the urge to shrug him off of you. 

“Where were you then? Leaving your woman all on her lonesome,” Ransom rubs his fingers together subtly and you scowl at him. 

“Broke the seal,” Lloyd deflects. “What do you care? You wanna hold it next time? 

“Hands are too big,” Ransom cackles. 

“Speaking of,” you pipe up. “The bathroom, where would that be?” 

Lloyd clucks and looks down at you, “down the hall, opposite the kitchen.” 

“Thanks,” you carefully slip away from him, “I’ll be back.” 

“Wait,” Lloyd catches your arm and pulls you back. “Not without this.” 

He leans in before you can react. He bends to press his lips to yours and you can’t repress a surprised squeak. He purrs and the vibration makes your skin crawl. What on earth?! 

You part and ignore the stares you can feel all around. Not just from Ransom but the rest of the room. What is he doing? That’s so embarrassing. 

You force a smile, “uh, be back.” 

You spin and scurry away. That room, those people, are suffocating, and Lloyd, not least of all. You hide in the bathroom, locking the door, and you take the moment of stillness to think. Big mistake as it all starts to set in. 

You drove all the way here under false pretenses. It’s believable that Lloyd would forget to bring the gifts. That tracks but this? The whole pretending to be engaged? What is his game? Is he really trying to impress anyone or is he torturing you? Why? 

You can’t figure any of it out. You gave up trying to understand your boss ages ago, you suppose you should do the same with these people and just get through this. For all your trouble, the food better be fucking delicious. 

You let yourself out of the bathroom and flatten against the door as you nearly collide with another person. Lillian nearly stomps right over you as she holds her stomach and rushes down the hallway. She lets out a sigh. 

“Oh, are you done in there? I’m splitting at the seams,” she trills. 

“Um, yeah, all done,” you sidle away from the door. 

“Could I trouble you for some help?” She asks. “This thing,” she pats her stomach, “I can get down but I can’t get up.” 

“Hm?” You furrow your brow in confusion, “help?” 

“We’re both girls,” she giggles. “And we’ll be sisters soon enough, won’t we?” 

“Um.” 

“You know, a pregnancy at my age, I really can’t strain myself,” she explains. 

“Oh, er, I guess--” 

“Thanks, sweetie,” she nudges you back into the bathroom. You have no choice as she heard you through. 

You stare at the wall as she slams the door and hustles over to the toilet. She pulls up her white dress and turns to sit, her silhouette a blur in your peripheral. You flick your eyes to the ceiling and bounce on your heels. 

Her stream flows out and fills the tense silence. She sighs. 

“Thank the lord,” she groans. “I swear, the little twerp is right on my bladder right now.” 

“Mm,” you nod and glance at the door. 

“I knew we should’ve gone with a surrogate,” she sniffs. “A piece of advice, when he puts one in you, make him suffer.” 

“Puts one...” you blink. “Um, I don’t...” 

“I mean, he’ll have to start trying as soon as the wedding night,” she laughs. “He’s getting up there. His swimmers won’t be as fast, will they? And the way he drinks, they’ll be too groggy to know which way is which.” 

“Um, we’ll worry about the wedding first--” 

“Enjoy it. Once you’re tied down, it’s not very much fun,” she says as she tears of tissue. “Alright then, darling, I need you.” 

You do your best not to see all of her. She reaches for you and you get close. You pull her up to her feet and she squeezes past you to the sink. You look at the toilet and shut the lid, flushing it with a push of the button. She washes her hands with a hum. 

“You’ll be so adorable when you’re big. Like an overstuffed teddy bear,” she chimes. “He’ll love that. He always did hate feeling small.” She twists off the faucet and dries her hands. “You must make him feel like the man he wishes he was.” 

You just look at her. You have no true reason to defend Lloyd, but because she’s so smug it irks you. You look her in the face, even if you feel ridiculous having to look up. 

“Well, he can piss on his own, so I think he’s just fine,” you step around her and swing open the door. The silence that follows you is the only satisfying thing about that night.