#my voice is NOWHERE near as deep as his

[oddlyother]

Slowly becoming more and more obsessed with my lovely Mr. J Silas 😍 (OC)

[tonycries]

Whiskey, Neat, With a Side of You - T.F.

Synopsis. When your date stands you up, you’re lucky that the hot bartender is more than happy to keep you company! 

Pairing. Bartender! Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, strangers to lovers, unprotected, pússydrunk Toji, cúmplay, oral (female + male receiving), créampie, some heinous things with pantíes, dirty talk, spitting, whískey, neither are drunk, absolutely filthy, pet names (doll), swearing.

Word count. 4.6k

A/N. Was originally gonna be Nanami but Toji mmmm

“So, that date of yours is late, huh?”

You don’t know what shocks you more - the question, or the voice from behind the counter - so very deep, tinged with just a bit of amusement.

Tearing your eyes away from the clock at the other end of the bar, it takes a second - and one look around the almost-empty room - for you to realize that shit the hot bartender was talking to you. Sputtering out a quick, “Oh, yes, um-” quickly reading that faded nametag, “-Toji. He’s a bit late.”

The man in front of you raises a brow, dark green eyes locked on the way you shift in your seat. He seemed a bit older, and - you gulp, eyeing the way his arms flex as he fumbles with the shaker - so undeniably attractive. Plowing on obliviously, “Boyfriend?”  

You sigh, pinching your nose, “No, some guy from a dating app. It’s supposed to be our first date.” 

“First date?” Toji lets out a low whistle. “Way to make an impression, dunno what type of asshat would keep a pretty lil’ thing like you waiting.”

Cheeks flaring, you don’t know what it is about him that makes you want to defend yourself, but it doesn’t matter anyway - because whatever rambled excuse gets stuck in your throat at the sharp scrape of glass against the counter. Large hands gently placing a pretty pink daiquiri in front of you, Toji gives you a reassuring nod. “S’on the house till that dumbass shows up. Until then, you can keep me company, doll.”

Playing with the straw between your fingers, your eyes flit to the clock again - 8:10pm.

Well, there was still time. Right? 

Nonsense, maybe.

Because it’s around 10:21pm when you conclude that no, there really wasn’t still time, and your date seemed well and fully intent on completely embarrassing you. And now, him still nowhere in sight, lips a bit looser, you were having the time of your life complaining all about it to Toji.

“-no, I swear.” you groan over his low chuckle. “He really gave me the ‘sorry, my dog ate my keys’ gem. And you know the best part?” Beckoning him over to whisper conspiratorially in his ear - heart stuttering at the heat of his proximity, “The man doesn’t even own a dog.”

Shaking his head, Toji seemed like he was drinking in your every word. “Classic. If yer gonna be late, at least make it interesting. Like, ‘I accidentally joined the circus on the way here.’”

“Mhm, I’ll have to keep that in mind for my next no-show date.” you grin, suddenly feeling a lot lighter than you were a few hours ago. Nowhere near tipsy, but definitely high off the conversation and the addictive scent of his cologne - the expensive kind that left you wondering whether all of him smelled this delicious. 

“Or better yet, you could spend your time with someone who actually knows how to keep you entertained rather than some scrub.”

Snapping out of your little reverie, lifting your head just fast enough to catch the little smirk tugging Toji’s lips. Managing to grit out, “Smooth, huh?”

“Just sayin’.” he hums, before turning his back to organize the glasses on the shelf. And you can’t help but traitorously admire his broad shoulders, cursing that t-shirt for being so goddamn tight that you could see the way his muscles ripple with each movement. 

“Besides-” Catching the tail-end of Toji’s question, “-neat whiskey for all the failed dates?”

You chuckle, “Ah, I really shouldn’t, the other customers will probably-” your sentence dies in your throat as a quick glance at the empty room showed that everyone else had eventually left - leaving just you. And Toji. Damn. Slow day, huh?

“Well, doll?”

Heaving out a shaky breath, you nod. Eyes zoning in on the way he expertly handles the glasses, so dizzyingly inviting. It makes a sheepish smile play at your lips, letting out a quiet little, “Despite all the shitty dates, I’ve actually never had whiskey neat before.”

Oh? That made him pause. Eyes widening ever-so-slightly as he sets down the glasses and leans in a little closer, breath hot against your face. “Never?”

“Never.”

“Well.” Toji muses. “This overpriced shit can’t be your first intro to neat whiskey. If you’re up for it, I’ve got a special 1926 Macallan stashed away in the back n’ can get it for us?”

Oh. Maybe it was that slow, silent grin that curls his lips, that sinful little scar moving as he does. Or maybe it was the way he places a hand on the counter to stare down so heavily at you. Probably it was just him - because you find yourself batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently, “Or I could just go with you?”

And shit if there was ever a time where Toji was sure he met his match then it might just be right now. Because that sultry lil’ smirk on your lips was killing him, making such a carnal little part of him twitch so dangerously. With a heavy nod, you’re following him through the dimly lit bar.

The back room is more of a VIP room than anything - cozy, lined with shelves of alcohol and leather furniture. Heady with the liquor and something so so Toji. 

You’re halfway through reading the title of a wine you could barely pronounce before he’s letting out a grunt of satisfaction from behind you, “Excuse me, doll.” It’s all that’s said before Toji’s pressing up against you. His muscular arm just inches from your head, reaching for something from the very top shelf. And oh you could feel his abs rubbing up against your back, so warm and- 

And then he’s pulling away. 

It was quite hard to stomp down the disappointed whine that almost leaves your throat, and if you didn’t know any better you’d have said something about the amused little glint in his eyes. Smug bastard knew what he was doing. 

Instead focusing on the way he turns to show off a bottle with a deceivingly innocent reverence. “This is going to be a real treat.”

Well. Two can play that game.

“Is that so?” you tilt your head, reaching out to grab the bottle neck, with not as much care of concern as you should have considering this was a million dollar whiskey. Swiftly unclasping the lid, focused only on the way Toji’s breath hitches as you fist his t-shirt in your other hand to pull him close to you - so close.

Close enough that you could count every shade of green in those half-lidded eyes, long lashes fluttering as your breath fans his face. “Such a shame we didn’t bring our glasses, huh?”

Oh the devilish grin that splits across his face sends such delicious shivers down your spine - Toji gets your drift. Of course, he does. Because he’s squishing your cheeks together in an almost-embarrassing pout, fingers searing on your skin, lips ghosting yours, “Yeah, real shame.” 

Immediately bringing the bottle to his mouth, letting the burning liquid pool on his tongue, he spits into your mouth, once. Twice. 

A steady stream of whiskey, and spit. It tasted just like the acrid alcohol and sin. And Toji. 

And it was so messy, smearing across your lips and trickling down your chin. Tilting your head back, you let it flow down your throat obscenely. Locked in his greedy gaze as you loll your tongue out to show off the way you’d swallowed everything he gave. 

“Maybe I do like neat whiskey.”

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him because fuck Toji was intoxicating and just there. That little scar rubbing against your lips as he devours you so sloppily, all hard muscles and heated skin underneath your fingertips. 

“Fuck.” he hisses into your open mouth. Setting down the whiskey God-knows-where near the couch to pick you up like a ragdoll. Drinking in the cute lil’ gasp that leaves you as you wrap your legs around his slutty waist. Groping and kneading every inch of skin he could reach. “How ya likin’ the Macallan, doll?”

“A ‘real treat’.” you mimic his earlier words, voice slightly broken as you feel his rock-hard cock through your wet panties, throbbing angrily against your cunt. Fuck, would you even be able to take him all?

“Oh yeah?”

And before you can react you’re being pushed against the hard wall. Toji’s lips dizzying on yours, fiddling with that godforsaken clasp on the back of your tight dress. 

“Shit.” he groans impatiently, wedging a knee between your legs, grinding against your wet pussy. “Such a delicious meal all f’me but I’ve gotta get through this- fuckin-” rip! “-dress”

Well, you expected your dress to end up on the floor somewhere, just not like this - tattered and hitting the ground of this back room behind the bar, faster than your jaw. And so do Toji’s - pupils blown, eyes hooded as he takes in the heavenly view in front of him. 

Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, licking like he couldn’t stay away. “Shit, doll. You were gonna wear this pretty lil’ number for that loser?” he sounds genuinely confused. Immediately tweaking and rolling your swollen nipples through the sheer fabric. “M’so fucking glad that bastard doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”

“T-Toji- ngh-” you mewl, as he lets your bra fall to the ground. Taking in one tit in his mouth, swirling his hot tongue around your areola. “Wan- wan’ more-”

“Now now,” he tuts mockingly, delicate strings of spit connecting him to your breasts. “S’rude to be the only one drinking. Unless…” Toji looks up at you through his thick lashes, “You wan’ me to drink in that pretty lil’ cunt of yours?”

And shit that sounded like everything you ever wanted right now. All you can let out is a delirious little nod before Toji’s dropping to his knees. So hard you wonder if it hurts - and maybe it’s the liquor, probably it’s the way he’s drunk off you - but he doesn’t give a fuck. 

“Yeah, atta girl.”

Pulling down your panties in one, fluid motion, he tugs them underneath your legs, disappearing between his own, fumbling with his waistband. And if you angled your head just right you could see the slightest glimpse of Toji fisting his cock. Soaking your already-wet panties with his precum.

“Aw, look at the way she’s so wet f’me already.” he coos at your dripping cunt. Absolutely obsessed with the way you’re so drenched for him already. Slick beading through the flimsy fabric at each hot breath, oh Toji has half the mind to just take you right here, right now. But no, he wanted- needed a taste. Doesn’t think he could live without it. “Wonder if she tastes just as sweet as she looks.”

Whatever retort on the tip of your tongue is cut off by Toji burying himself face-first in your pussy. Licking a long, languid stripe up your swollen folds, pooling your slick on his tongue. 

But it wasn’t enough - it might never be. Because one taste of your pretty cunt and Toji is hooked. 

With a low groan, he’s spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering pussy. Spreading it with his thumb before he’s diving back in nose-deep. Snaking a hand down to draw frenzied little circles on your swollen clit, letting your juices glisten all down his wrist.

“Taste s’fuckin’ good. Fucking sweet.” So hot and maybe you should’ve gotten an inkling with how sloppy he was with the whiskey - but Toji was so fucking filthy. Your slick glossing his face so prettily, smearing right up to his nose and dribbling down his chin. Lewd little squelches deafening in your ears. 

“Ngh- Sh-shut up-”

“Shut up? Can’t shut up, doll, m’drunk on this sweet cunt more than I am on whiskey.” he mutters into your folds. “My favorite taste. Got me addicted, huh?”

He huffs out a dark laugh into your pussy, taking in that cute lil’ embarrassed expression on your face. Throwing one of your legs over his sculpted shoulder, Toji bullies his soft tongue into your snug cunt, past that delicious little ring of resistance. 

Making out with your pussy deeper. And his tongue was so long - perfectly hitting your sweet spots, licking all over your plushy walls. Thrusting in time with his thumb drawing on your clit, in and out in and out in and-

“Fuck, I could get used to this. Have you for breakfast, lunch, n’ dinner.”

His words were so dirty, but Toji looked so pretty stuffing his face in your cunt. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, dark strands of his hair sticking to his forehead. Tilting his head just so that your sweet sweet juices slide down his throat. 

It’s what has you tugging in his hair to angle him just right, using him like your favorite toy. Such cute lil’ whines of his name leaving you each time his tongue grazes that one spot that has you keening and bucking into his mouth for more more more-

“Fuck fuck fuck jus’ like that- Ah!” you let out such pretty whines, words slurring together. Delirious little ones that go straight to Toji’s achingly hard cock, angry and twitching in his fist. So needy and glistening with precum in the dim lighting.

Shit, Toji thinks he could cum at just that, which is why he’s lapping at your cunt even greedier, drinking you in like a madman. Fingers so deftly toying with your pretty clit, making you putty in his hands. He has to make you cum. Now. Or else he’s gonna fuckin’ embarrass himself in front of such a goddess. 

“Oh? So drunk on m’tongue, already, doll?” he chuckles. “Can’t speak?” Vibrations sending white-hot jolts of pleasure up your spine. It has you dragging your cunt so sloppily all over Toji’s face - and he likes it. Loves it even, only speeding up his movements. Even when his jaw is aching, walls sucking him up so desperately that it was almost difficult to eat out your pretty lil’ cunt. Even when your sweet juices are dripping down to the hardwood floor in a sinful little drip! drip! drip! 

“I- ngh- m’gonna-”

“Gonna what? You can handle whiskey, you can handle using your words, doll.”

“Cum!” you yelp, “M’gonna cum Toji- ah- feels t’good.” 

And that’s exactly what he liked to hear because Toji only gets sloppier. Alternating between stretching you out on his tongue, sucking on your clit, licking everywhere. Over and over-

“Then cum f’me, doll.”

And you are - fast and hard. So hard that you don’t even realize when you’re rocking your hips all over Toji’s face. Cunt fluttering around his tongue as if you were trying to suck him up - and he lets you. 

“Fuck. Sweeter than I imagined.” he’s slurring into your cunt. “Jus’ like that- yeah, ride out that pretty lil’ cunt on m’face.” Words muffled as he tonguefucks you through your high, stars behind your lids every time he flicks at your pussy. 

Distantly, you hear such embarrassing little whimpers of his name in time with the sinfully wet groans from below - ones you realize are yours only when you’re blinking back your vision. Heart thundering, pathetically trying to catch your breath.

The first thing you hear is Toji’s little chuckle, followed closely by a lewd pop! that has you whirling to look at him down below.

“Wh-wha-” and all you can let out is a strangled little oh! at the sight before you - Toji licking his fingers clean, sucking all your sweet juices like he couldn’t get enough. Even when he’s flashing you a devilish grin around his fingers, rising from his position on the ground to cage you against the wall.

“Told ya m’addicted, doll.”

Your back hits the soft leather before you even realize what’s happening. Bouncing at the sheer force of the throw, you gasp in both shock and at the audacity of this man.

“Toji…” you warn as he looms over you on the couch, yet it comes out more breathless than you intended. But looking at him there - straddling your hips, pants pulled just below his heavy balls, tugging and teasing his rock-hard cock like he was trying to fuck something delicious out of it - how could you be blamed, really?

He was so big. Pulsing wildly in his fist and just soaked in precum - all the way from his pretty pink tip to the tufts of black at his base. Not quite wild, not quite tamed. You cunt clenches in- anticipation? Fear of not being able to walk for the next week?

And in the haze of your orgasm it takes you a second to register the flimsy panties wrapped around his hand. Rubbing against those prominent veins on the side as Toji fucks his fist. So wet and ruined that you almost didn’t recognize it. 

“Jus’ think of it as repayment.” he grins, following your line of sight. 

You scoff, eyes still traitorously stuck on his throbbing cock. So massive and mouth-watering that it makes you wish he used you instead of those panties. “Those were expensive y’know.”

“I’ll buy you new ones. Four. In the color of my eyes.”

“How about…” you flash him a sultry smirk, urging his hips to shift higher. And by the amused quirk of his brow, you knew Toji liked where this was going.  “I can repay you another way.”

And before you knew it, his pants are thrown to God-knows-where, and you had two, muscled thighs straddling your face. Toji slaps his swollen cock on your face once. Twice. “Think that loser was this big?” Thumbing your mouth open as he grazes his weeping tip across your lips, glossing them so prettily. Precum salty on your tongue, all filthy and dripping down to your chin. 

“Open wide- Fuck. Tha’s it-” he hisses, brows furrowing as he stuffs his fat head into your hot mouth. Eyes rolling to the back of his head at the way your lips bulge around him, flicking at the sensitive tip. And it was so delicious, Toji couldn’t decide whether he liked eating you out or this more. 

“Shit, doll.” he grunts, hips fucking into your plushy tongue in shallow, quick little thrusts. “Taking me so well, huh?”

You didn’t know if you were - lips stretching obscenely around his thick cock, tears clinging to your lashes. Choking and gagging around his length in a way that made Toji twitch inside you. Shit, he liked this - liked seeing you like this. And as soon as the realization hits you, you’re moaning around his cock, making Toji’s hips stutter above you. 

Toji has to fight off that part of himself that just wants to paint your mouth a sinful white. Fuck his cum into your till it’s all you can taste - all you can feel. 

“Shit. You little minx. Ah- s’heavenly around me ngh-” pressing your head down till all the way till your nose is flush against his pelvis, balls twitching against your chin. Finally bottoming out and fucking your mouth in harsh, long strokes. “Fuck- Wonder if that pretty lil’ cunt of yours is gonna take me t-this well, huh?”

Oh does he love your smart mouth - but he loves it even more when all he gets in response is wet gurgle around his cock. Looking up at him so tearily and shit he could get used to this sight. “M’gonna take that as a yes.”

And then he’s speeding up, balls squeezing so painfully. God it’s so fucking hard to look at you too - precum and spit bubbling sloppily at the corners of your mouth, makeup so messy and fucking gorgeous to him. 

“Can feel m’self riiight-” Reaching out a hand to wrap around your throat, feeling his dick bulging in and out in and- “here.”

Moving faster so he can ruin your pretty face. It’s so sloppy the way your spit glistens down his length, using your swollen mouth as he pleases. And you’re so eager to make him lose his mind too that it has been fucking into you like a toy.

“Ya like this? Like me using your pretty lil’ mouth like oh- it’s a fucktoy? Oh fuck, doll.” he groans, running his mouth like he’s drunk off yours wrapped around him. “Gonna paint that pretty mouth of yours white if y’don’t stop now.” 

And shit if he knew those words would have you eagerly bobbing your head to meet his hips a little slut then he’d have said them a lot sooner. Trying to get just a taste of him. Mascara runny now, swirling your tongue around his leaking tip every time he hits the back of your throat, so hard that it’s probably sore and bruised. Toji almost feels bad. 

…

Nahhh

Pulling your mouth off him, muttering low and dangerous. “Told ya to stop now, didn’t I?”

And oh he hates to cut off that cute lil’ whine spilling from your kiss-bitten lips, but shit Toji’s losing his patience and his sanity with each passing second that he isn’t stuffing his cock in your pretty cunt. 

Toji backs up, swiping a thumb under your lip, sucking off the remnants of his precum before capturing your lips in a searing, searing kiss. Tasting you and himself and you- 

“Liked the Macallan, huh?” Reaching blindly for the bottle of whiskey, taking a deep swing. Spitting it back into your mouth because shit you looked so pretty swallowing it all up. Rutting his hips into yours, sliding his throbbing erection in between your swollen folds. Collecting your sweet juices on his head, drinking in your adorable gasps.

“T-Toji.” you whimper, hips bucking up wildly. “Just fuck me already, goddamnit.”

And then he is - pressing his fat tip into your sloppy hole. Inch by fucking inch. Not even thinking of easing into it because fuck he needs it. He needs it-

“-s’bad. Ah-” Toji drawls against your lips. “Wan’ed this ever since y’walked in through that damn door.” A mess of spit and alcohol and precum - it made you feel so dirty, dirtier than the pressure between your legs as he bullies his heavy cock into your snug pussy. And all you can do is fucking take it because Toji was so unrelenting.

Thrusting in shallow, mindless little thrusts to just fit himself inside you - and you already feel like you’re being stretched to your limits. Whimpering out a tearily little, “Are you at least ngh- halfway in yet? Oh-”

If Toji was any lesser man he’d just have split you apart on his cock right now, but no. Instead settling for a smug little, “Nope”, popping the p.

But that doesn’t stop him from wrapping two arms around your waist, sitting up on the couch with you splayed out so prettily on his cock. Pulling you, squeezing his dick into your soft cunt, sliding down, down, down.

“Ah! Ah- shit shit shit s’too deep, ngh-”

“No such thing as ‘too deep’, doll.” he clenches his jaw. Hands pushing your thighs apart even further as you’re split apart on his cock. “You jus’ hafta sit there all pretty n’ take- it-” Each word is punctuated by a harsh thrust. 

And Toji’s manhandling you around while bouncing you on his dick. Drawing unhurried little circles on your clit while trying to find that one spot he knows you’d love more than any whiskey or drink. Looping a strong arm to arch you into his body and-

“Fuck!” you keen, hips grinding sloppily to milk his cock as much as you could. Walls clenching so sinfully and shit-

“Found it.”

And then it was like something snapped - because all of a sudden Toji’s no more playful teasing and letting you have your little fun. No, he’s fucking you like a man possessed - thrusting his cock up into you. All the way from his weeping tip, till his balls smack your ass. So hard he’s sure they leave such a shameful mark for tomorrow. Hitting that spot over and over-

“Aren’t ya glad you chose to ah- s-stay with me?” he hisses, throwing his head back. One hand rocking your hips deeper the other becoming faster and faster on your poor, ravaged clit. Driving you crazy. “Fuck that date ditcher, y’look all pretty like this for me.”

“Yes yes yes- s’glad.” you manage to sob out. Voice shaky and hitching at the way he was bouncing you on his cock with reckless abandon. The lewd squelches and skin-on-skin filling the heady room, making your head spin so much that you barely hear Toji’s words. 

“I’d make a much better date. Hngh-” he lets out a guttural groan as your nails rake his back. Fingers on your clit becoming more and more frantic. “Would buy ya flowers n’ a-all that shit. Show up on time, all dressed up.” Drinking in your lewd little ah! ah! ah! every time he milks himself on your sloppy pussy. But oh maybe Toji was a talker when he was drunk because he wasn’t done yet. 

“Make all those other scrubs fuck- jealous. And then-” Hips stuttering and so so sloppy. “Hah- at night- m’gonna fuck you dumb just like this.” he gasps, sounding like he was at the end of his sanity. Losing it bit by bit every time his veins rub so deliciously against all the right spots that make you see stars. 

Losing his sanity especially when you whine out such a cute lil’ noise of agreement. “Fuck m’close. Wanted this too, huh? I saw the way you’d been eyeing me all night.”

You can’t even be embarrassed about being caught red-handed, only looking up at his pretty face with delirious heart-eyes. Too cockdrunk and delirious at this point. And, well, maybe it’s the alcohol in your veins because you’re grabbing at the shiny bottle on the seat, bringing it to your lips. The bitter taste barely hitting your lips before you’re meeting his. Making out as sloppily as he was ravaging you below - all teeth and whiskey and pure filth. 

And that answers his question. 

Messy and desperate. 

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same - clamping down so sinfully on his aching cock. And shit it’s so heavenly that it sends him over the edge as well. 

Toji cums, and keeps cumming so hard that he can see the way his seed was gushing out of your poor, overfilled pussy. Especially not when his thrusts get sloppy, thick cum spilling all over your pretty cunt. Purposely not pulling out like the mean bastard he is to paint your walls a sinful white

Over and over, forming a wet little patch on the couch that he knows he’ll have to worry about later. But right now he doesn’t give a fuck because your bloated and so prettily all covered in his seed. 

Leisurely, he pools the cum trickling out of your cunt on his fingertips, not even wasting a second before stuffing them in your mouth, pushing through your swollen lips. And you don’t complain - not at all. In fact, you’re sucking it all up eagerly. Looking Toji straight in the eyes while you swallow it all. 

“Hmm, not as good as the whiskey.” you tease. Letting yourself be yanked into his body, as he grins against your lips.

“For that, m’keeping the panties.” 

--- 

“Toji…” a low voice rings through the closed bar. Shiu sounding like he’s absolutely at his wit’s end as he continues, “Where the fuck is our 1926 Macallan?”

The man in question was staring suspiciously giddily at his phone - either having not heard what Shiu said, or he just couldn’t give a fuck anyway. And knowing Toji, it was probably the latter. 

A warning. “Toji I’m serious, that shit costs over a million dollars.”

“Yeah yeah, congratulations or my condolences but hey, do you know any great flower shops?”

A/N. I don’t even like whiskey so much, it’s just the thought of bartender! Toji that has me feral.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[215-luv]

“OH GOD, IT’S NOT FAIR OF HIM TO MAKE ME FEEL THIS MUCH!” (HQ BOYS)

ATSUMU: says things out of nowhere that it makes you feel butterflies. it’s so sudden that it hits you like a tidal wave that knocks the air out of you. the two of you could be laughing at some random thing and suddenly, he opens his mouth to mention something, “your smile.” he says, almost out of nowhere, eyes looking at you with so much fondness that you refuse to believe that someone could ever look at you that way. “my smile? what’s wrong with it, tsum?” you question, and he chuckles, “oh, there’s nothing wrong with it.” a goofy smile plants itself over his face, “it’s just.. it’s so pretty. i want to see it more.” he says, resting his forehead over yours. “wanna be the person who makes you do all that—smile and laugh. you’re so beautiful.”

AKAASHI: “you were saying?” he questions as he’s scribbling over his notebook, studying for a test he’ll take the next day. the question almost surprises you. “i was saying..?” you ask, eyes on him as he looks busy enough writing over his notebook rather than listening to your nonstop blabbering. “yeah? you were talking about the book you just finished reading.” he says, and you sat there surprised, silenced and unable to fully process what you just heard. “well?” he ushers you to speak, the tone of his voice coming out as if he wants to hear more from you. and you couldn’t help but stare at him in disbelief. “you.. you were listening?” you respond with a timid voice. your boyfriend lets out a chuckle, dropping down his pen to look at you with interest in his eyes. “of course i do. i’m always listening to you, honey.”

KUROO: you weren’t sure what just happened, but all you could process was the fact that you’re suddenly lifted by the strong arms of your boyfriend as you walked through the hallway of the campus. it was supposed to be a normal day. you sighed, trying to ignore the stares of the students around you (and yaku, literally staring at the both of you in disgust). “tetsu, what are you doing? what’s all this? what’s happening?” you throw your boyfriend a wave of questions, unable to get a glimpse of the motive behind his actions. the deep chuckles from him reaches your ears, and you almost had to be grateful for being carried bridal style so as to not feel your knees weakening from the sound he just made. “am i not allowed to care for the love of my life?” he says, almost as if it’s an obvious fact. you roll your eyes, not convinced. you open your mouth to say something, but he beats you to it—“you mentioned you walked home yesterday, right? you know, it’s pretty convenient to take the bus sometime. your house is pretty far from here. your feet must have been aching. let me take care of you, alright?”

OIKAWA: “delivery for the most beautiful person in the world!” he knocks on your classroom door, catching the attention of your classmates. you mildly panic, a rush of embarrassment flowing over you as you’re greeted with teasing smiles and chuckles. you see, tooru always had the tendency to do these things. and it honestly surprises you ‘till this day. he makes you feel so openly loved that it scares you it might disappear someday. your heart beats at a fast pace as your boyfriend nears you, eyes never leaving your figure as the corners of his lips are raised upwards. he places a bouquet of flowers on your desk, along with your favorite food on a plastic bag, and you almost choke a cry. “what’s all this?” you question, looking at him with suspicious eyes. he chuckles, “is there anything wrong with a boy simply wanting to show his love to his favorite person in the world?” his hand reaches to cup itself against your cheek, his warmth cascading over you. “let me show you what you deserve. i’m right here.”

USHIJIMA: you let out a sharp breath as you’re suddenly being pulled to collide against a strong chest which happens to be your boyfriend. you’re about to ask what just happened when he speaks first, “be careful. you were about to hit a lamp post.” your eyes widens, looking to the side to notice that you were, indeed, about to bump against one. guilt quickly begins to rush over you. “o-oh.. i’m sorry, i get really clumsy and bad at these things—“ you try to explain yourself apologetically, but your boyfriend cuts you off before you could finish your statement, “please don’t apologize. these are simply trivial matters.” he tells you. it’s only ‘till then you notice his arm wrapped around your waist in a protective manner while he keeps you steady. “matters like these are the reason why i’m here. let me be the one to keep you out of danger.”

KITA: “this one’s wrong. you messed up the formula halfway, that’s why the rest of the equation is wrong.” your boyfriend explains to you as he compares his math homework with yours. you couldn’t help but chuckle in embarrassment, inwardly beating yourself up for being dumb infront of him. you scratch the back of your head, “s-sorry, i could really get confused over these things.” you apologize, and your boyfriend could only nod in understanding. “in this number too, you got the formula wrong. you’re supposed to use this.” he then adds, pointing to a certain number on your paper. you couldn’t help but feel small under his gaze. “r-right.. i’m sorry, i promise i’ll do better.” you reply apologetically. but your discomfort doesn’t go unnoticed by shinsuke. his eyes worriedly looks at your figure as he quickly slides an arm around your waist, “hey, it’s okay. don’t worry about it.” you could feel his thumb rubbing against the fabric of your shirt as a way to assure you. “you’re doing amazing, believe me. just let me know if you’re confused anywhere. i can always help you. you’re okay.”

[k-atsukibakugou]

happy birthday to the man!! — katsuki sees your sex toys once and is haunted by what you look like using them

pairing: bakugou x f!reader w/c: 1.5k warning/s: nsfw 18+, m! & f!masturbation; sex toys, i think that's everything notes: this is a bit short BUT i had to get something out for the man, this took me like 2 weeks to write but hopefully now i'll be out of my slump a little bit! pls enjoy c:

crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox

fuck… he really doesn’t know when the lines started to blur between friend and fantasy, from wanting to hang out with you to wanting you, from talking to you about your day to being bricked up hearing your voice. yet, here he was, hot water streaming down his neck, plastering damp hair to his forehead; the water pouring over his head nowhere near enough to wash his mind of you.

he’d been plagued by you, morning to night, even in his damn dreams since he tried to find a phone charger at your place.

it’s not like he was snooping, he wasn’t trying to find that sort of thing, bakugou was only trying to find your spare charger, he’d seen you put it in one of these drawers before, how was he meant to know you left your spare chargers right below all of that?

he’d slammed the drawer shut the absolute second he realised exactly what he was staring at; the bedside drawer stuffed to the brim with bright, phallic toys, a collection of smaller, rounder vibrators, something that looked awfully similar to a gag, and he heard the telltale metal clinking of at least one pair of handcuffs against the wood when he slammed it closed. embarrassing heat crawled up his neck, burning his cheeks and setting the very tips of his ears alight. stuck in the same spot, mouth half opened dumbly, his eyebrows creased in the centre of his face, all blood rushing from his brain down to his half-hard cock already straining against his pants, the need making him ache.

every hour since that, he’d spent thinking of what your wet cunt looked like swallowing the toys; so pretty and drippy, how it looked tensing around nothing when you came from the buzzing of your vibrator, how you’d look writhing and moaning handcuffed with that gag in your mouth, how your drool would stain your shirt, sticking the fabric to your skin. god, it was just so lewd, even under the purifying water, he felt dizzy, sticky, hot, sweaty, the image of your toys burnt into his retinas, no matter what he tried to distract himself with, he always saw your toys at the forefront of his mind, the perverted imagery refusing to budge from its newfound home.

bakugou groans, a deep, rough sound drowned out by the even buzzing echoing in his ears, the sound slowly building, kicking to a new level when your whine drowns it out. you always start nearly silent in his dreams, just tiny gasps escaping your parted lips when you’d nestle the toy right against your clit. you only get louder from there, your eyebrows scrunching together like his own were, marking two little tallies in the middle, tilting upwards at the centre as you pulled your lip up between your teeth. the motion did absolutely nothing to muffle your sounds, your whimpers and moans only growing louder with every heave of your chest, every passing moment with the vibrator pressed to your pulsing clit making your hips jolt into it.

you reach between your thighs with a whine that sounds all too similar to his name torn from your lips, dipping your fingertips in your slick cunt, collecting all the cum gathering at your trembling hole without even taking a breather from humping your vibrator like your life depended on it. your movements grew jerkier and jerkier the longer the intense vibrations were held to your drooling pussy, your eyes fluttering closed with a breathless shout of his name, shaky, wet thighs squeezing around your hand, even as the vibrator slipped from your grip, falling forgotten onto the sheets beneath you, the constant stimulation growing too much for you—

“fuck.” he really couldn’t help it, his hand travelling lower down his abdomen, trailing behind droplets of water still running down his torso to his hard cock, the tip already leaking from the thought of you. wrapping his fist around the base of his cock, he squeezed once before twisting his wrist, slowly jerking his cock, wondering if you were in your shower doing the same, fucking yourself on one of your toys imagining him in its place just as he wished it was your warm cunt squeezing around his dick instead of his hand.

“katsukiii—” bakugou can feel you beside him, your figure displacing the dense steam surrounding him, a heavy, thick silicone dildo hanging from the glass wall of the shower, your figure slick and soapy from the shower, damp hair sticking to the soft skin of your neck and face when you bent at the waist, lining the tip of the plastic cock up with your drooling hole. the head of the cock would slide into your cunt all too easily in his fantasies, always greedy to watch you take more and more, inch by inch sinking onto it. your mouth falls further open the more you take of the toy, the pleasure too much for you to even hold your head up by the time your ass was pressed against the cool glass, your back arching with the tip of the dildo nestled deep inside your cunt. he wonders if the curve of it would rub on your g-spot at this angle, if it would drive you crazy grinding against the glass, whining when you can’t take it anymore.

bakugou’s head falls back thinking of you reaching for the shower head, his cock pulsing in his hand when he grips the base, his muscles tensing and relaxing while he tried desperately not to cum; the image of you playing behind his eyelids making that a near impossible task. even with his eyes squeezed shut, there you are at the forefront of his mind, switching the settings of the shower head to a concentrated stream, aimed directly at your aching clit, your broken moan jolting his hips forward into his hand, stroking the length languidly. your voice wavered, repeating his name again, the stimulation inside and outside your cunt just so overwhelming.

bracing against the tile with your spare hand, you lift yourself back off the toy, the base suctioned to the glass remaining stuck as you grew quicker in your movements, starting to bounce and roll your hips in a smooth tempo. he matches the pace of your hips with his fist, his breath coming out in nothing but deep huffs. his uneven groans were nothing compared to your sweet chorus of moans and whines, an endless symphony playing in his head of “ah-ah-ah”’s and “mmmng”’s the closer you got, your cum coating the toy just like his pre was smearing all over his fist.

he can’t help the guttural sound that escapes him next, a garbled, broken version of your name when your thighs tremble, your knees only moments away from buckling from the pure bliss; the water is still aimed at your clit, even when you can’t bounce on the dildo anymore, wave after wave of pleasure drowning you until your eyes rolled into your skull and your cum gathered in a creamy ring at the base of the toy, your ass flattening against the glass as you greedily took more of the toy, intensifying the euphoria wracking through your body. he knows your toy fills your cunt so perfectly, knows how you’d hump the air to get more and more of the water aimed at your clit, unrelenting in chasing your orgasm, jolting and jerking until your knuckles turned white against the tile wall, until your voice was so high and loud it didn’t even sound like you anymore.

he wonders if you’d ever screamed taking the fake cock, if you’d ever been so overwhelmed you squealed, your pretty cunt clenching around the toy, milking the poor plastic for everything it can’t give you, or if he’d be the first to make you cum so intensely.

“ka-aa-ki—” you can’t even spit his name out, your name the same mess on his plump lips, caught so hard between sharp teeth he worries he’ll split the thin skin. all his muscles tense, his abdomen clenching low on his stomach, the veins stretching along the underside of his cock throbbing with the need to join you in the throes of pleasure, to cover your cunt in milk white cum you desperately tried to squeeze from the silicone.

your name is a choked mantra tumbling from his lips, over and over again, dark crimson eyes rolling into the back of his skull the longer you bounced on the toy, pinching sensitive nipples between your slippery, soapy fingers, dragging your orgasm out as long as you could, as long as he would, until your knees were weak and your couldn't even manage to dumbly spit out his name anymore.

“fuck.” he damn near whines, a mess of cum covering his fingers, coating his knuckles as he kept fucking his fist through the waves of his own orgasm, shivering even with the hot water running down his body, cleaning his hand even as he continued to stroke his cock, relaxing his muscles as his toes still curled, his knuckles stark white against the tile.

his head fell forward onto the cooling tile, a temporary relief for the haziness swirling around in the steam.

shit, how was he meant to look you in the eyes after this?

© all works belong to @k-atsukibakugou, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

[moonlightndaydreams]

Fem!reader is ready to lose her virginity to her bf Chan. Problem is he’s big.

A follow up story to this after receiving this comment/request.

CW: oral sex, vaginal fingering, reader loses virginity, coming inside, praise, pet names, chan is big.

Channie has a big cock. No doubt about it. You know this from the countless times you've been giving him head lately. He's always amazed at how much you can fit in your mouth. The way you can open up your throat so well that it almost makes him cum from just one thrust. He can't wait until he can see you take him in your sweet little pussy. He knows you're going to be so tight and that he'll need to keep himself under control as to not just start fucking you in earnest.

You've been thinking about it too. At night, in bed while you use your dildo on yourself. It's nowhere near the size on Chan. You never imagined that your 'first time' was going to be with a man with a huge dick. Maybe you should buy a bigger dildo to practice with? That way you might be able to take him a little easier. The thought of him teasing your folds with his fat head has you crying out and clenching your toy. You're so ready for your boyfriend to be inside you. You're going to tell him tomorrow.

🫦🫦🫦

"Fuck, babygirl... so wet." Channie hums from between your legs. He needs to get you nice and ready for him if you have any chance of taking him. He holds your legs open and continues to gently suck and lap at your sensitive pussy. “Love your pretty pussy, babygirl.”

He works a finger into you slowly. Then another. He often finger fucks you with three fingers. It’s a good start, but it’s nowhere near the level you’re going to have to open up for his cock.

He directs his fingers in a “come hither” motion, digging into your g-spot while he picks up the pace with his tongue. You start to writhe on the bed, squirming and whimpering in high pitched little squeaks as you come around his fingers.

He chuckles against you, slowly withdrawing his fingers and settling up on his knees between your legs.

“How was that, sweet doll?” He grinned massaging your thighs reassuringly.

“Mmm. Channie…fuck…so good.” You say breathlessly, coming down from your high.

“You still sure you want to try this?” He asks softly.

“Please… I wanna…wanna feel you…properly.” You each up to touch his arm. “I really am ready.” You look at him with pleading eyes.

“Fuck. Can’t say no to you. You’ll be the death of me.” He shakes his head.

You settle yourself on your elbows and look down at where Chan is stroking his cock. You gulp. It’s terrifying and alluring in equal measure.

“Just gonna tease you for a bit. Just like we’ve done before, yeah?” He sooths. You watch with hooded eyes as he presses the tip of his cock against your pussy. You moan and bite your bottom lip and glance up at him. He meets your eyes and smirks, before you drop your eyes to where he’s sliding his cock up and down through your folds.

You whimper when you see his precum mix with your own arousal, and as pulls his cock away it forms a string of stickiness between you. It’s filthy hot.

“Okay, babygirl…I think you should get on top.” His voice is strained. “You can control the depth that way.”

Chan takes your place on the bed and you climb over to straddle him. “Try just grinding against me… yeah… fuck… just like that.” He holds your hips and guides you to grind over the entire length of his cock. It feels incredible rubbing your pussy against him like this, coating his shaft in your wetness.

“Lean in against me. Let me hold you.” Chan wraps his arms around you, bring you in for a deep kiss and grind a little faster on him. You giggle and drop your head to rest in the crook of his neck.

His hands caress your back, making his way slowly down to cup your ass. “Babygirl, I’m doing my best to go at your pace, but your body…fuck it feels so good against me like this.” He grinds back against you hard and you whimper against his neck. “I have to be inside you.” He hums low in your ear.

“Channie, please. Oh..uhh…uhhh.” You feel him reach for his cock and push it against your opening. But instead of teasing you like he has been for the past few weeks, he pushes his cock into you. Just the tip.

“F-fuck…S’thick…S’big…oh…uh…fuck.” You babble as he stretches your opening. Chan pulls your cheeks wider and pushes his hips up ever so slightly. But it feels like so much cock already.

“Shhh…shhh…Channie’s got you.” He soothes you and strokes your asscheeks with his hand.

His encouraging words and patience make you melt against his strong body. You hold onto him tight as he lifts his hips whilst at the same time pushes you a little more onto his cock. It stings, but it’s soon replaced with a sense of pleasure.

“You’re doing so good babygirl…feel so tight…so perfect… how is it feeling for you baby?”

“So full…so..so…” you can barely speak the feeling is so intense.

“S’kay babydoll. You guide me…you set the pace… only go as deep as you feel comfortable, yeah? Look at me.”

You used your elbows to prop yourself up, your face hovering above his.

“We have all the time in the world. So much time to fuck.” He assures you. “We don’t have to do too much—”

You allowed yourself to sink further onto his cock. “Want all of you Channie.” You purr.

“That’s my girl… Horny little lady, hmm?” He bites his lip and gives you a look that tells you that he wants to devour you.

You take your time, experimenting with the depth and angle, until you eventually feel your body meet his pelvis. He is fully inside of you. You’ve never felt a stretch like it, have never felt this full. He’s so deep inside your body. Finally. It’s so much better than you’ve imagined in your bed at night.

You roll your hips, finding that this motion allows his cock to drag your walls in such a satisfying way. Until it becomes not enough and you feel the urge to bounce on his cock.

“That’s it…look at you. Look at you… fucking good girl… taking cock like you were made for it.” Chan pants as he smiles up at you.

You start to build up the pace, your cunt starting to squelch loudly, the sound drowned out only by your moans as you bounce on him.

“It’s all you, babygirl. You’re fucking yourself right now. How’s it feel?” He says from underneath you.

“F-feels…fuck…so deep…your so fucking deep.” You cry.

“Such a hungry pussy. You’ve been keeping her starving, haven’t you? She’s needed this…needed to be stretched with a big cock, hmmm?”

It isn’t long before you become tired and short of breath. The tension in your core building and building as you approach your orgasm. It’s too much. It feels too good.

“Use me, babygirl. Use my cock. S’all yours… ngh…fuck…that’s it’s… ride my cock.”

Your movements become erratic. “Too…too hard…fuck me…Channie…please.” You beg as you flop on top of him in exhaustion. “So close…so close….need to come…please help me come.”

Chan holds you by your ass and plants his feet onto the mattress and fucks up into you. He’s so close, he’s about to explode.

“Ngh…nghhh…uhhh…uhhh…fuck…c-coming. I’m coming. I’m fucking com—” the breath is knocked from your lungs as he fucks you fast and deep, but not hard. He’s being careful not to be rough.

You squeeze and pulse around Chan’s cock causing him to release himself inside you with a loud groan.

“Fuck, babygirl…my sweet babygirl.” He smiles up at you and cups your cheek. His eyes are full of love and the classic look of post-cum bliss.

“I fucking love you. Thank you for choosing me.” He whispers and pulls you in for another long deep kiss.

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @chansbabyg @kangnina @weareapackofstrays @xxkissesforchanniexx @enjaken @queenmea604 @lyramundana @2chopsticks2eyes @queen-in-the-shadows @bethanysnow @newhope8 @chuuchuu1224 @vanillacupcakefrosting @3rachasdomesticbanana @fun-fanfics @palindrome969 @wolfennracha @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist

[evie-sturns]

Snap - Chris Sturniolo

summary: when you apparently 'distract matt' while matt's driving chris snaps at you, he regrets his choice of words instantly when you get upset.

contains: angst, crying, makeup-sex, fluff, arguing, yelling, gentle!chris.

----------------------.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.-------------------

i sit in the backseats of the sturniolos car, nick is to my left scrolling aimlessly on his phone and chris is in the passenger seat. the conversation in the car is quiet.

matt swings round a corner earning a small laugh from me,

"matt, can you turn up the music please?" i ask chirpily,

chris has been on edge the whole day, we've bickered countless times throughout the afternoon.

chris's jaw clenches as i repeat myself, "matt?"

"one second-" matt mutters while switching lanes,

i reach my arm out and turn up the volume myself, leaning over the center console from the backseat slightly.

the volume in the car raises, the headlights illuminate the road infront of us as i lean back into my chair.

"you don't have to turn up the music now, patience would be nice for a change." chris mumbles, i brush off his comment.

"do you know when we're gonna be home or not?" i ask softly, clutching my seatbelt restlessly as matt switches lanes again

then chris snaps.

"hes driving us safley to our fucking house!" chris yells, his voice booms throughout the car,

i've never heard chris yell like that, i've never heard chris yell in general.

"chris- shut up?" i bite back, my attitude kicking in

"stop distracting him!" chris screams at me, his head snaps back and looks at me over his shoulder, veins are visible on his pale forehead.

"shut up!" i yell back at him out of shock, my voice is shaking and i'm nowhere near as loud as chris.

"stop distracting him, you're fucking annoying!" chris shouts,

the whole car goes dead silent.

"you can not fucking talk to your girlfriend like that?" nick raises his voice at chris,

"i'll do what the fuck i want!" chris replies angrily.

"oh my god guys, stop? nobodys distracted and nobody is fucking annoying." matt says from the frontseat,

i take in shaky breathes, when i say that chris has never yelled like that before i mean it, my ears hurt.

nick wraps his arms around me, stroking my hair lightly. "i'm so sorry about him" nick whispers quickly,

the only thing i can do is nod, staring straight ahead at the back of chris's head.

i don't even realise i'm crying until i feel my cheeks become soaked, i take in a deep shaking breath.

the whole car is completely quiet as we pull into our street, not a word has been said since chris's outburst.

“dude stop fucking acting like i just punched her in the nose she’s fucking fine.” chris says from the front seat,

“watch yourself chris.” nick warns,

i see chris glare back at me, i wrap my arms around nick as we pull into our driveway, the painfully long drive is finally finished.

chris instantly pulls on the door handle to open it even though it’s locked

“unlock the door matt.” chris mutters

“bro when i unlock the door you are gonna go straight into your bedroom and sort your shit out.” matt raises his voice

chris’s jaw clenches as he looks out the window, matt unlocks the car door and chris instantly swings the door open, he slams his shut behind him and storms up the driveway.

the whole car goes silent with matt, nick and i in it, aside from the small sniffles coming from me.

“i’ve never seen him like that i’m so sorry.” nick sighs, i nod silently

“c’mon inside,” matt says, stepping out of the car and opening the door for me.

i step out onto the concrete of the driveway, the cold night air against my warm skin makes me shudder.

nick holds my hand as we walk up the steps of the front porch, chris didn’t leave the door open for us like usual.

matt fiddles around with the doorknob and finally creaks it open.

i step into the house and instantly grow warm again, i think it’s the fact the heatings on mixed with the amount of adrenaline coursing through my body.

“you can come stay in my room tonight.” nick whispers, almost dragging me down the corridor into his comforting room.

“have a good sleep!” matt calls out with a sympathetic sad smile on his face, “thank you matt.” i croak,

i flop down on nicks bed with a small sigh, nick jumps down next to me and tugs up the covers. i rest my head on his arm as i fight back more tears.

“you can let it out now, it’s just us.” nick whispers,

that’s enough for me to start sobbing, floods of tears fall down my cheeks.

“i’m sorry-“ my voice breaks, “i’ve just never really been yelled at like that.”

“i know, i don’t know what’s wrong with him and i’m so sorry.” nick sighs, he runs his hand through my hair as i continue to cry.

“he’s gonna fix this, i promise.” nick says softly, i nod into his arm.

-

i’ve been laying in nicks bed for around an hour, my tears have mostly stop due to the fact i’m so tired, too tired to keep crying.

my eyes flutter shut again,

abruptly i hear noises coming from matt’s room, they don’t sound like arguing but it doesn't sound.. normal.

i sit up in bed,

"dude- you know i cant sleep alone c'mon." i hear chris say with a shaky voice,

"yeah, well your fucking girlfriend would be in bed with you right now if you didnt scream at her for an hour." matt replies,

"so go back to your own room." matt follows up.

chris lets out a wobbling sigh, i hear the door to matts room slam shut followed by small footsteps coming down the corridor

i hear the footsteps grow closer to nicks room before a soft couple of knocks on the door, my heart drops as i lay back down in bed.

"what." nick calls out,

"can i speak to y/n, please-" chris almost whispers,

nick looks over at me, i hesitate before nodding.

i stand up out of bed and walk over to the door, i creak it open and im met with chris's face.

he kind of looks like a train wreck.

his lips are red and puffy, his eyes are swollen and bloodshot and his brunette locks are messy and hes avoiding eye contact.

"um- do you want to come to our room, i just want to talk to you- you dont have to though" chris stambles, tilting his head towards our room.

i nod, chris goes to reach for my hand then pulls back. i follow behind him up the corridor towards our shared bedroom.

he opens the door for me, i walk inside awkwardly, the silence is deafening.

i plop down on the bed and chris follows, he sits down a couple feet away from me and his gaze shifts towards me.

chris fidgets with his long fingers before his blue eyes meet mine.

"i'm so- sorry for what happened earlier-- i know i raised my voice, and i shouldn't have at all. it wasn't fair to you, and it wasn't right, i wasn't thinking straight." chris starts after a couple seconds of silence.

"i messed up, big time. i let my weird 'fuckin mood take over, and i directed it at you, which was completley uncalled for. i hate everything i did, and for making you cry, and yelling in general. you mean everything to me and im so so sorry."

"i dont even know what happened, it was like it wasn't me talking dude- i just love you so much and- and-" chris's voice breaks,

he brings his pale hands up to his flushed face and wipes his eyes.

"please forgive me" he says while running a hand through his hair.

i scoot over to chris and wrap my arms around his trembling body, the warmth of his body comforting me.

"i don't know why you yelled at me like that, but ill try to forget about it." i sigh, chris nods and burys his face into my chest.

i pull away from chris and take his face in my hands, his cheeks are a deep red and his lips are raw.

i press my lips to his softly, i wrap my arms around the back of his neck before straddling him.

i sit comfortably on his lap before shifting slightly,

suddenly chris lets out a low whimper into my mouth,

the kiss wasn't even sexual, there was no tongue, just lips pressed together.

i let out a small laugh,

i feel a poking against my inner thigh, "are you serious chris?" i giggle,

"i am so sorry- i don't know how that happened" chris says in a panicked tone

"how did you get hard from that?" i scoff, rubbing my eyes.

"i don't know." chris sighs, "ill go fix it just give me a couple minutes"

he goes to stand up off the bed but i pin him back down,

"don't say that? i'll make you feel better chris."

"i don't want you to have to do that, i don't want you to think i only apologised for sex-" chris rambles, i press a finger to his lips,

"i know that wasn't why you apologised." i assure him before lifting my baggy shirt off of my body,

chris's eyes gaze over my bare chest, i feel him grow fully hard.

"oh fuck" chris laughs slightly, i stand up off of chris's lap and shimmy my pyjama shorts down my legs.

i'm left in my light pink lace panties, which quickly follow in the pile of my clothes on the floor.

chris stands up off the bed and walks over to me, he picks me up by my ass and throws me down onto the bed. "are you sure?" chris asks, "yes chris." i smile

chris fidgets with the buckle of his belt, which keeps his baggy jeans up.

his discards his belt on the floor before unbuttoning his denim jeans. chris's jeans fall to the floor followed by his boxers,

letting his erection spring out, his tip taps his stomach before he stands between my thighs,

chris is usually a rough, fast sex kind of guy, but hes not acting like that today. he's being slow and his tough is so gentle.

he brushes his fingers over the hem of my panties before pulling them to the side. chris presses a light kiss to the inside of my thighs before standing back up.

"you ready sweetheart?" chris asks, tracing mindless shapes on my clit lightly.

"yeah-" i reply

chris lines himself up with me before pressing his tip inside of me,

he lets out a sigh of relief as soon as he enters me, i sink my top teeth into my bottom lip with a small moan.

chris presses further of his length inside of me, stretching my walls around him, "you feeling okay?" chris whispers, grabbing my waist lightly.

"feels.. really good" i breathe.

chris finally bottoms out, i feel his tip lightly press against my cervix before he almost pulls out again, then presses back inside of me.

he leans down and presses a soft kiss to my lips, i moan into his mouth as his thrusts continue.

chris pulls away from the kiss and presses his forehead to mine, his brunette hair resting on my bare forehead.

chris uses his free hand to move some of my hair away from my eyes, i feel his tip repeatedly brush against my g-spot.

with every thrust he hits that spot, earning louder moans from me.

"oh chris!" i whine, arching my back off the bed as his pace picks up a little bit.

"you're taking me so well, feel so good around my dick." chris praises me, knowing i love it when he praises me.

chris reaches his hand down between where our body meets and presses his hand onto my lower stomach.

"feel me right there?" chris asks,

he pushes deep inside of me causing a obvious stomach bulge, my mouth falls open as i feel my mind fog

"fuck chris- oh my god im so close" i babble out, "keep doing that- please"

chris lets out a low laugh, "im close aswell pretty girl"

chris reaches further down and rubs my clit, applying just the right amount of pleasure.

and thats enough to send me over the edge.

i feel an intense amount of pleasure wash over me, "chris!" i call out, clenching around his length as i release.

chris pulls out of me and strokes himself a couple of times before finishing on my stomach "oh god.." chris groans, throwing his head back.

he flops down on the bed before pulling me onto his stomach, "i love you so much." chris breathes out deeply,

"i love- you to." i pant,

chris lets out a small laugh before reaching his hand to my stomach, he wipes his cum off of me with a grimace on his face.

"sorry that was kind of gross." chris laughs.

"it was hot." i correct him.

chris sits up and carrys me over to the couch in his room, he sits me down on it before digging through his closet.

chris pulls out a shirt of his and some sweatpants, he brings them over to me and tugs the sweatpants up my legs and pulls the shirt onto me.

"you're so pretty." chris smiles, "dont be boosting my ego now chris." i joke

"its truee thoughh" he replies.

"you're so stupid." i say, my cheeks going red.

"you're flustered so somethings clearly working." he grins, helping me up off the couch.

"it doesnt matter, i need water." i giggle,

chris reaches for his bedroom door and opens it for me, i step out into the corridor and grab chris's hand,

we walk down the corridor together into the kitchen where nick is sat,

he looks up at us with a small sigh

"glad to hear you two made up" nick groans dramatically,

"what?" chris says, his eyebrows furrowing.

"chris. all i could hear for the past 20 minutes was 'chriss dont stop' it was a living hell." nick says holding back a laugh,

my eyes widen,

"you guys are gross" nick smiles with an eye roll, nick walks past us out of the kitchen and punching chris in the arm.

"chris-" i protest,, my face red.

"hey- to be fair you were quite loud..."

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

BRO BILLIES NEW ALBUM SENT ME TO HEAVEN I SWEAR, also i saw this mega fucking hot guy at the supermarket today like im talking hotter than matt sturniolo deadass.

@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @ecilphttlunar @bitchydragonparadise @thematthewlover r @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @chrisgetsmewetterxo @mattsonly @justalittle47 @mattsturnioloisbae @sunsetsturniolos @sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @pkfferoo @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101sara @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 @imwetforyourmom @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris @jayz4dayz4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover @nathandoesgf @starsturns234 @cristiana-heartzzchris @chrissturnsss @joemamaaa42069 @sturnthepot @zayyluvz @realuvrrr @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs @riowritesitall

[sweetpascal]

" someplace nice "

summary: when simon finally comes back home from deployment, he makes sure he spoils you in the best way possible. *wink wink*

warnings: cursing, teasing touches, husband!simon needs a warning of its own UGH, filthy car sex, messy pussy eating, wet noises, missonaryyy, filthy nasty dirty talk, we already know simon has the mouth of a sailor hehe

wc: 2.8k

notes: first of all, i wanna give a big big big shoutout to @suimon because without her AMAZING FUCKING PHENOMENAL works of art, i wouldn't have gotten out of my writing funk and they truly have inspired me 🫶🏼 second of all, i was on twitter and came across this spicy video and it basically helped me create whatever this is 😭 enjoy !

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

it wasn’t that you didn’t want to go out tonight. in fact, you’re ecstatic to go out with your husband. it’s only been two days since simon has been back from being deployed for almost one month. he had spent the two days sleeping and getting up to eat when it’s necessary, only to go back to sleeping. you didn’t care about that. you were just happy that he was back home. safe. alive. on the third day, he surprises you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

“we’re going out t’night,” he tells you, eyes all soft with a barely there smile on his lips when you go nose deep into the flowers and sniffing deeply with a pleased smile on your face. “i won’t tell you where. but it’s gonna be a nice place.”

that night, you got ready with nervous butterflies bubbling in the pit of your stomach. it had been so long since you and simon have been out on a date night. with his deployments and your full-time job, having time for yourselves, let alone as a couple was a rarity these days.

you sprayed yourself with simon’s favorite perfume of yours and did a once over in the mirror. your hair looked beautiful, your makeup was on point, your outfit wasn’t too flashy nor too casual - it was a body hugging dress with thin straps and tasteful cleavage and some wedged heels. as you walked downstairs, you saw simon waiting for you at the bottom with his keys in hand. he was dressed so nicely and the color of his dress shirt matched your dress. with tight fitting slacks and his ‘going out’ boots, you knew you’d be staring at him all night long. your cheeks warmed when you caught his gaze. his lips had parted and you could’ve sworn his eyes sparkled. although your heels added a few inches to your height, it was still nothing compared to simon. he still stood above you, two and a half heads taller.

“so.. how do i look?”

he didn’t like how hesitant you sounded. with a slow step forward, his finger hooked under your chin to lift your head up. god, the smell of him was mouth watering. you’re on your ovulating schedule so his natural musk combined with his cologne was like sinking your teeth into the tenderest meat there is. you nearly moaned. nearly.

“you look.. almost as beautiful as the day i met you,” he told you, so genuine, so soft, and so in love.

“almost?” you giggled and caught him off guard by pulling him down and clumsily kissing his chin instead of his lips.

“mhm,” he grumbled and led the way outside to his suv.

dinner went smoothly. simon had taken you both to a nice little italian restaurant downtown. it was the perfect place for a romantic night. the tables were dimly lit with candles and fresh flowers. he did everything a gentleman should do. pulling your chair out, knowing your favorite dish and ordering it for you, getting you your own dessert, paying. but the night still had a salacious vibe to it. for some reason, simon just couldn’t keep his hands to himself. his hand kept brushing up on your thigh, subtly hiking your dress up to feel your skin under his fingertips. you had to quietly scold him as the restaurant was nowhere near empty and your table wasn’t secluded from wandering eyes.

“can’t help it,” he told you in your ear, his voice all low and gruff and husky in a way that always had you tingling. “my wife s’just so fuckin’ gorgeous to look at.” and with that, he left a warm kiss under your earlobe, knowing exactly that was the spot he knew makes you whimper. and you did. only loud enough for him to her.

during the car ride home, it began to rain. it was damn near impossible to drive with the way the rain pelted hard and fast onto the windshield and roof. simon cursed under his breath, the hand resting on your thigh tightening for a brief second. you swallowed down a soft moan as it got lodged in the back of your throat. but simon, having the ears of a true soldier, heard it. he fucking hears everything. you hated and loved it simultaneously.

breaking free from your thoughts, the car swerves to the side to go down an empty road leading to an abandoned part. it was the only place farthest from town. no busy streets. no houses. no stores. it was deserted.

“si?” you were getting confused when he put the car into park and turned the ignition off. he turns on the top light and then turns to you. you expected him to give you a kiss with how he’s leaning over the console, but instead he reaches under your passenger seat, pulls the lever, and forcefully slides your seat further back so it puts a big amount of space between you and the dashboard. “simon?!”

“gimme a minute,” was all he says before getting out of the car and getting wet from the rain.

the door slams shut and you’re twisting and turning in your seat. it was pitch black outside with no streetlights, no house lights, no nothing. your side door is yanked open and simon hops in, slamming it shut and locking it after. he’s on his knees in front of you in the passenger side as you’re still in the seat, dumbfounded. he starts to unbutton his dress shirt as he stares down at you. the dim light in the car casts shadows on his face and he looks so fucking good.

your breathing starts picking up as he kneels before you shirtless. he then starts to unstrap your wedged heels, carelessly throwing them into the backseat. you finally let out a moan when he grabs your hips and forces you to slide down your seat and your thighs fall open.

“fuck, you smell so good,” simon grunts and buries his face between your thighs to mouth and nose at your covered cunt. he licks and sucks through the fabric, further getting it wet with his saliva. “taste like fuckin’ heaven.” he’s quick to slide your panties down and hoists your dress up to pool around your hips, fully exposing your bare cunt to his eyes and his eyes only.

“s-simon,” you whimper softly, eyebrows drawn and lips parted. the ache in your core began to hurt. your hips bucked and your thighs twitched. you didn’t know what you wanted. his hot, messy tongue. his long, powerful fingers. or his thick, hard cock. all you can utter is, “please.” please, anything.

immediately, he bows his head and licks a hot stripe from asshole to clit. he focuses more on your clit. he widens his tongue and uses his big hands to hook underneath your knees to press them into your chest. the wet slurps and hot puffs of air all over your messy pussy has you keening with uncontrollable twitches.

“ooh fuck, fuck, oh my god!” you grab onto his wide wrists, manicured nails digging into the skin for some stability. “fuck me. please, fuck me!”

when your voice gets all high pitched and whiny, simon knows it’s go-time. with one hand reaching down to expertly unbutton and slide down his slacks, he uses his other hand to spread your thighs open. your right foot rests on the window ledge. with the dim lighting and the rain pattering on the car roof, everything about this was romantic. simon lowers his head and gives your lips messy, hard kisses. all tongue. all teeth. heavy breathing and hushed moans. you tasted your slick and a hint of wine on his tongue. if that wasn’t the perfect combination, you didn’t know what was.

“you ready f’me?” his voice is so gruff and thick with lust. he taps the head of his leaking cock on your messy cunt. the lewd noises made you want to cover your face from embarrassment of how wet you are. “hm? ‘s this little cunt ready f’me to fuck her?” god, the things he says would be enough to make a deaf nun cry. but you didn’t care. you ached for him, everywhere.

“plea-please, si,” you weakly whimpered. your body was on fire and you were close to tears. wetness made your lashes clump and you sniffled softly. “need you. need it bad. need you.”

he tuts. he actually tuts. and the condescending smile he sends you makes you all the more embarrassed as your cunt leaked even more slick. “poor angel,” he croons and grins wolfishly. “poor, poor baby.”

and then finally, finally, he dips the head inside your pathetic little hole. and inch by inch, he slides in and then slides back out. he slides in again a little more and slides out again. the teasing torture was enough to make you start crying. simon’s arms wrapped around your trembling frame and he allows you to bury your face in his bare shoulders. you’re hugging his big, beefy body to yourself, your hands desperately holding onto his sides.

“i-i can’t ta-take it! fuck me, please, please, simon, please.” you’re babbling incoherently, sobbing softly into his skin and curling your toes as he grinds his cock up and down your cunt before finally sliding all the way in.

“there we go,” he coos in your ear. “there’s my girl.”

almost instantly, the sobbing stops and is replaced with garbled moans and punched gasps. your lips are open on his shoulder and drool slowly begins to seep out. you hug him closer as warmth explodes throughout your entire body from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

“‘m y’girl,” you can barely form a coherent sentence.

“that’s right,” simon huffs, now starting to work his hips faster against yours. “my good girl.”

his hips smack into yours, his thickness filling you repeatedly. over and over and over again. the lewd wet noises of your slick leaking onto his balls and maybe his thighs has your cheeks flaming up. simon pounds into you, forcing every moan out of your chest and spilling from your lips, no matter how bad you wanted to quiet them as you two were still in the car and anybody could pull up. everything felt so good. he starts speeding up his thrusts, now pounding into you at an alarming speed and causing you to scream hoarsely in the small space. and then he slows to a grinding halt.

“mm, mm, mm,” you whimpered in his shoulder, tears freely sliding down your cheeks from the excessive pleasure you're receiving with little kisses of pain.

simon hears your reaction and does it again, this time creating a rhythm. he’ll fuck into you at a high speed and then slow down. he feels your tits bouncing against his chest and the way your swollen clit is continuously bumping against his pelvis.

“yeah,” he grunts in your ear, tightening his arms around your non-stop shaking body. “fuckin’ take my fuckin’ cock.”

your eyes slowly cross as he slows again, only fucking you with deep, slow, grinding thrusts. you’re 100% sure you’re leaking onto the seat right now. you wouldn’t be surprised if you were. simon’s cock was heaven and hell. you were obsessed. addicted, even. it look a lot of practice for you to take every inch in the early stages of your relationship. he made sure to take his time training your cunt into swallowing his hardness. simon pulled up just enough to capture your lips in a hot, messy kiss. he grinds deep inside, the tip of his cock nudging your cervix deliciously. your hands desperately grasped the sides of his face, your tongue sloppily entering his mouth and circling around his.

“can’t get ‘nough of you” simon grumbles. he keeps kissing and kissing as he grinds his hips in slow, deep circles. “my wife is jus’ so fuckin’ needy, eh?” the subtle cockiness in his tone had your pussy clenching. he grins at that and pistons his hips, fast and hard and unrelenting.

“ah! ah! ah! aaah!” you squealed and scratched down his back. you’ve been on edge for however long. time was nonexistent and this was torture. you needed that final nudge. a certain thing that helped the rollercoaster of euphoria finally crash down from the tip of the hill. “n-need.. cum. need.. n-need to cu-um!” god, you probably sounded so pathetic.

simon grunts every time he delivers hard thrusts that would’ve made your entire body slide up the seat if it weren’t for his arms wrapped around you. your thighs twitched non-stop. your toes curled and repeatedly thumped against the window. clinging onto your husband, your moans start getting more high pitched and drawn out as you got closer and closer, but simon knew what you needed. he always knew what you need. he pulls back enough to direct his attention to your neglected clit, so puffy and swollen and glistening in your slick from having no attention paid to it. simon slows his hips again and grinds to a slow halt once more. his cock throbs as your walls twitched and tightened around him, eagerly sucking him deeper.

“you poor, poor girl,” he tuts, splaying a large hand over your tummy and humming pleased as he feels the bulge of his cock nestled deep inside. “jus’ need my thumb, eh?” with the first swipe, your nails dug deeper into his skin and your thighs nearly shut. and from that reaction, simon knew it was time to finally let his beautiful wife cum.

and for the last time, his hips smack against yours at a fast speed, pounding and fucking as if tonight was the end of the world and you two had to say goodbye to each other. when his thumb lays against your clit, rubbing circles at the same rhythm of his quick hips, the dam finally broke. your body forcibly arched and your head slides between the seat and the backseat window. simon forces your thighs to keep spread open and grunts into your throat as your pussy contracts around his cock. all of your moans kept spilling out - you couldn’t stop them even if you tried. it was like electricity was coursing through your body. the wave of euphoria crashed at an alarming speed and you’re sure you’re screaming, but it sounds like you’re underwater. simon was stunned, in all honesty, at how hard you came. and you just won’t stop.

“agh!” he grunts and pulls his thumb away from your overly sensitive clit. he instead wraps his arms back around your trembling body and does three good, hard thrusts before the knot tightened and tightened and he spills inside of you. he grinds deep and slow, making sure none is wasted and is settled thickly inside your womb.

heavy breathing and weak moans echo in the car. the heavy rain slowed to a gentle drizzle. your thighs couldn’t stop twitching. simon lowers his head and kisses your pulse point so very gently, humming pleased when you sign contently. he kisses the side of your face tenderly, tracing a line from your pulse, up to your soft jaw, and then your plushy cheek. your breathing finally slowed and you lift your head to look up at simon. a bead of sweat slid down his temple and you had half a mind to lick it away. the two of you look into each other’s eyes and there wasn’t a single thing that could make you look away. and there wasn’t a single thing that could ruin this moment. simon had to swallow down the lump in his throat.

“d’you realize jus’ how much i love you?” he asks you quietly, head tilting to brush his strong nose against yours. “i would go to the ends of the earth f’you.”

at this whisper of a confession, you sniffle and let out a watery laugh, a lonesome tear sliding down your cheek that is quickly wiped away by his thumb. he leans down and hovers his lips over yours. you take the last step and curl your fingers into his hair to pull him down. when your lips touched, it felt like everything disappeared at that moment. the two of kissed and kissed until you needed air. and even though, you would take gulps of air and find his lips again. his cock was still snug deep inside. even soft, he still had some length and weight to him. but you loved this. it made you feel more connected to each other. the rain had stopped completely now. you both broke your kiss, a thin string of saliva connecting. simon lightly thumbs at your lip to wipe it away.

“now, lets get you home.”

[puripurin]

— Cute!Yan!Monster, who is nothing more than a literal cutiepie. Sure, his jaw is bloody and quite literally hanging by muscles, but his mannerisms are totally different than by how he looks.

The first time you saw him was in an abandoned building you were exploring for fun, dangerously stupid, but quite frankly stupid was in your middle name with all the dangerous stunts you had pulled, so this was the usual.

Until you saw him jump out of nowhere but still didn't come close to you as he banged his head on a piece of hanging metal, to which tears started forming in his eyes.

You pouted as you got a closer look. The monster that had tried to scare you had strawberry blonde hair and deep red eyes. Overall, the monster was cute except for his hanging jaw.

"Erm... are you okay?" You stooped down near him and handed him a napkin. He stared at you before taking it gracefully and wiping away his tears.

"I... I'm sorry for doing a poor job of scaring you... I'm just bad at what I'm supposed to do..." He weeped some more as he patted his tears. His voice was soft and slightly scratchy, but you had no idea where it came from, so that was a bit eerie.

"Hey, no... you actually scared me. The atmosphere was really scary as I heard your footsteps periodically, and I was always looking back. Even if it was botched, you did a good job." You patted his head as his eyes widened in happiness.

"You mean it??? I am so happy that I was able to scare you! Ah! My papa says that if you love someone very much you should marry them!" He nuggled into your chest, leaving you in confusion. "I am not letting you leave here. My papa says you should never let the person you love the most leave... I think that's for the best for you..."

"Wait, what--"

"Ah, anyways, what do you mean by you heard my footsteps periodically?" He looked up at you and tilted his head.

"Oh, it just meant I heard you walking around. Is there an issue?"

"But I don't make sound when I walk."

"Wait... then, who...?"

"Oh! Wait, you're talking about my papa!"

"Your papa?"

Just then, a horned monster layered in short black fur appeared in front of you both and screeched loudly. The cute monster giggled as he ran up to hug his papa. Meanwhile, you pass out in fear.

Eh, i think ill make a fic about his papa later. Oh also, i did post an intro, but deleted it because it was ugly so I'll have redo it, plus i was tired while doing it, so uh yeah. Also, he's not really yandere in the beginning, but once you spend more time, the more he wants to lock you up and keep you as his wife <3

[cherienymphe]

Teenage Dirtbag IV (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, mentions of blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

🎄 ༺𝓜𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂༻༺𝓒𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼༻🎄

~

“Oh! Well, aren’t those pretty?”

Your mother’s voice pulled your attention away from the flowers in front of you, throwing her a small smile as she neared you to admire them. You gave her the card when she eyed it, and you watched her smile grow, a fond chuckle escaping her.

“That’s sweet,” she praised. “Is Rafe coming by later?”

It seemed like such a silly question because you and Rafe saw each other almost every day, and your mother knew it.

“Yeah,” you sighed, sitting at the island and fingering a red petal. “He’s doing something for Ward, but he’s coming straight over when he’s done.”

She hummed, and you heard her fussing around in the drawers looking for something. Your gaze was glued to a rose, noting that Rafe got you red this time—your favorite—and you swallowed. It was always the same. Rafe would hurt you so bad that he felt compelled to make it up to you, the flowers would be delivered to your doorstep, your parents would gush, and you’d forgive him with a smile…and then the cycle would repeat.

You plucked a petal, rolling and squashing it between your fingers.

“It’s about time he starts getting prepped on all the family business, isn’t it?”

You glanced up as she took out a pan, her gaze briefly meeting yours.

“Yeah, I guess so. Ward has been asking him to do more things lately, and I know it’s usually work related, so…” you shrugged. “Only a matter of time.”

She seemed satisfied with that answer.

“Good,” she firmly said with a nod. “He can’t provide for you on daddy’s money forever.”

She chuckled to herself, but you could only swallow down bile.

“Rafe is upstanding and all of those things we want for you, but he needs to learn to make money on his own. We’ll never give him our blessing otherwise.”

Again, you said nothing, only looking at the stains on your fingers. Your entire volatile future being mapped out for you should’ve scared you beyond reason, and it sometimes it did, but in this moment, you only felt a numbness that was all too familiar. It all just felt so inevitable, so you didn’t see any sense in fighting it. With a sigh, you stood.

“I’m going to take these up to my room.”

“Put them on the table by your window, so they can get good sunlight,” she threw over her shoulder.

After doing what your mother advised, you turned to your mirror, intently staring at the face in the reflection. The fading bruise on your cheek was nowhere to be found under your makeup, and you were relieved that the same could be said for your neck. A deep inhale had your stomach aching only a tad, and you told yourself that Epsom salt baths could only do so much.

You rolled your eyes, lips pursing at the thought of JJ Maybank.

Naturally, you knew that this wasn’t really his fault. If Rafe were a normal boyfriend, you wouldn’t be covering up bruises with makeup and long-sleeved shirts in the house you’d rather not wear. You knew that Rafe didn’t actually need a reason and that no one could push him to do anything he didn’t want to do. Rafe was never the kind of guy to do anything he didn’t want to do. However, with all of that being said…

You really didn’t like JJ Maybank.

Some part of you knew that Rafe must have provoked him. You knew your boyfriend well, so you knew that without a doubt, but none of that changed the fact that you still had ugly discoloration from where Rafe had pushed you into his dresser. None of that changed the fact that JJ was the catalyst. Yeah, you probably shouldn’t have talked to him anyway, but you’d only been trying to be nice.

Trying to do the right thing.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of the doorbell, and knowing that Rafe never rang it, you didn’t give it much thought. At least until you heard your mother calling your name moments later, and you were forced to descend the stairs in confusion. That confusion wasn’t eased in the slightest when you came face to face with Sarah.

She looked sheepish while your mother only smiled.

“Sarah’s here for you. I offered her something to eat, but she’s insistent that she isn’t staying long,” your mother said, briefly touching the other girl’s arm. “You tell Rose to call me. I have a bone to pick with her.”

They both chuckled—obvious that your mother was teasing—and you watched her disappear into the kitchen before resting your gaze on the blonde before you.

“I’m going to get something to eat at The Wreck. You want to come with me?”

You swallowed a sigh, glancing away and folding your arms over your chest. You didn’t know where this desire for a budding friendship came from, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. You and Sarah had only ever been friendly, and considering the company she kept, you’d had no desire for anything more. Being friends with Sarah just felt like a recipe for disaster.

“Sarah…”

She spoke up before you could, huffing and stepping towards you.

“I think Rafe treats you like shit,” she admitted, making sure her voice didn’t carry. “I know you love him and see something in him the rest of us don’t, but everything about you just seems wrapped up in him and…he seems very happy to keep things that way.”

You pressed your lips together, eyeing her.

“I don’t like it, and considering I don’t have much say, I figure the best I can do is be your friend. It’ll just make me feel better to know you have someone other than Rafe.”

Her lips turned up as she said his name, crossing her own arms over her chest.

“I’ve thought this for a while, by the way, and I just…” she shifted her feet, shrugging. “I don’t know. I just can’t take it anymore.”

With a sigh, you dropped your arms, and you knew that Sarah could tell what you were going to say.

“Come on! It’s lunch at The Wreck. We won’t be going all the way to Charlotte—Rafe will know where you are. He’s caught up with our dad, anyway, and they’re probably not going to be done until this evening,” she practically pleaded.

It was tempting, you had to admit, even if it did make you feel a little pathetic.

“I don’t know. I’d have to call Rafe and-.”

“You’d have to call Rafe, are you serious?” she scoffed before reaching for her own phone, and you reached for her. “I’m calling him.”

Your eyes widened.

“Sarah…”

Rafe’s tone could be heard even through the phone when he answered, and you felt your heart race.

“I wanna go to lunch with your girlfriend, and since you’re so uptight about knowing where she is at all times and who she’s with…”

The other girl trailed off as he spoke.

“Rafe, you’re stuck with dad for most of the day! I want to go eat, and I want her to come with me… Yes, just me,” she threw you a look at that to which you only looked away. “God, you’re so crazy, you literally treat her like a damn puppy.”

She shoved the phone at you, and understanding what was happening, you sighed.

“Hey,” you softly said once her phone was to your ear. “She just showed up here, Rafe and…”

“She said it’s going to be the two of you.”

You could tell by his tone that he wasn’t thrilled, right now, but you also knew it wasn’t just from Sarah and her antics. Rafe felt cornered. It wouldn’t look good for him to forbid you from going, and if he convinced you to give Sarah some piss poor excuse, she’d likely just ignore it. There wasn’t much you and Rafe agreed on, but you did admit that Sarah Cameron often got her way.

You heard Rafe mutter under his breath, and you didn’t doubt he was cursing Sarah’s name.

“I don’t see why she’s hellbent on butting into your life all of a sudden…”

His tone didn’t make you enthusiastic, and when your eyes met Sarah’s, they looked hopeful. You didn’t really understand why Sarah was taking so much interest in befriending you. You heard her reasoning, of course, but this was new territory, and you didn’t know how to handle it. However, you decided that it didn’t matter. Your boyfriend’s sister wanted to have lunch with you, and if it would satisfy her then so be it.

Pulling your lip between your teeth, you told Rafe something you knew he’d like to hear.

“While I have you, I wanted to thank you for the flowers.”

You heard him exhale, and you didn’t need to be with him to know the look on his face. It was the look he often wore whenever he brought you flowers—a mix of smugness and triumph with that small smirk dancing along his lips. Rafe cared about being seen as the perfect boyfriend, but he also cared about your complicity just as much. If he could placate you after a really bad fight, then he could prevent the rare backlash.

The last time you’d threatened to leave Rafe after one of the worser fights was half a year ago. The bouquet he’d given you then hadn’t meant all that much to you when you threw them on the floor. It hadn’t ended the way you wanted to but instead in tears and Rafe convincing you that you were just upset and needed to cool down. He liked to avoid that if he could.

“I wasn’t expecting red, and I was just really happy to see that. It made me feel a lot better,” you told him.

Rafe was silent for a few moments before sighing, albeit with an annoyed lilt. Your gaze met Sarah’s again just as he spoke.

“Just for a little bit. Not too long because I could finish up early with my dad, so…”

“No, yeah, we won’t be long,” you assured him. “It’s just going to be me and Sarah.”

“Yeah, that’s what she said. Let’s hope it stays that way,” he told you.

His tone was clipped, and although he didn’t say it, you knew that there was a silent addition to that statement.

For your sake.

With a nod and a soft goodbye, you gave Sarah her phone back. Her face was expectant, and when you told her you needed to get your jacket, she beamed.

Sarah had a pout on her face as she played with one of her fries, shaking her head.

“I just don’t get it,” she mumbled. “What do you see in him?”

The drive to The Wreck was far from long and had mostly been filled with awkward small talk. You couldn’t recall a time you’d ever been alone with Sarah for this long, let alone long enough to have several conversations. It was such an odd thought considering you’d been dating Rafe for two years. The more the minutes went by though, the easier the conversation seemed to flow.

However, you now found yourself in the middle of lunch and on a topic you felt was inevitable, to be honest.

Sarah’s gaze was questioning, and you struggled to come up with an acceptable answer. You couldn’t very well tell her that her brother was actually an abusive rapist who terrified you beyond belief. You couldn’t tell her that he’d threatened to kill you on several occasions. It wasn’t possible to tell her that, in truth, you saw nothing worthwhile in Rafe, and you’d merely accepted your future with him.

Instead, you managed to think back to the very beginning of your relationship when you actually loved him.

“He knows what he wants, and I like that…”

It was a trait you’d admired in him once, feeling flattered by how boldly he’d asked you out. Those were the days when you looked forward to seeing Rafe and whatever gift he had for you and whatever date he had planned. That was a time when you’d literally fall asleep on the phone with him, and these days you would be relieved if you could go several hours without even hearing his voice.

“He’s also very generous, and he looks out for me, and he loves being around me. He’s just…so happy when we’re together.”

Everything that came out of your mouth was no longer applicable to your boyfriend, but at one point in time it had been. Without realizing it, your face fell, and you picked at your food. Sarah had a thoughtful look on her face as she mulled over your words before taking a sip of her lemonade.

“Looks out for you,” she repeated. “I guess that’s one way of putting it.”

You threw her a look, and she merely shrugged, throwing her hands up.

“I’m just saying! He treats you like he doesn’t want anybody to come near you,” she said, disgusted. “His own sister wants to hang out with you, and you needed to call him for that? That doesn’t sound crazy to you?”

The frown on her face was deep, and you only shrugged.

“You know what he’s like Sarah. You know how…paranoid he can get.”

“Yeah, paranoid that you might actually prefer being in someone else’s company instead,” she scoffed.

You merely sent her a small smile, thinking that she had no idea of the half of it. Before the conversation could continue, two familiar faces walked into the restaurant, and you felt your heart sink. Sarah seemed excited to see her friends, of course, while you, on the other hand, only had an aching desire to leave.

When your eyes met a slowly increasingly familiar blue pair, you couldn’t stop your frown.

You glanced away, and when Pope greeted you, you only sent him a smile in return. Telling yourself that you had the worst luck, you leaned over to reach for your purse. Sarah was talking to the two of them, but when she heard the sound of your keys, the conversation paused.

“I think I should go,” you answered the silent question on her face.

You hated the way it fell.

“We haven’t even been here an hour. Do…?” she trailed off glancing at Pope and JJ. “I know that it’s supposed to be just the two of us, but Rafe won’t know.”

“Sarah,” your tone said it all, and she stood up with you when you went to pay for your food.

“Stay,” she practically begged. “Rafe isn’t here to be his normal asshole self, and you know I won’t tell.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” you mumbled, craning your neck for either Mr. or Mrs. Carrera.

By the sound of her sigh, you had a feeling she’d witnessed JJ’s conversation with Rafe that day in their house.

“JJ didn’t mean much by that. He was just stooping to Rafe’s level, wanted to piss him off.”

“Well, you can tell him it worked,” you said, throwing her a tight smile.

Her brows drew together, and she ran her eyes over you, concerned.

“What, was Rafe mad at you for that?”

“What do you think, Sarah?” you slowly wondered, fully facing her.

You could see on her face that she hadn’t considered that possibility, and her shoulders sagged.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I’m sure JJ wouldn’t have said anything if he’d known it was going to come back on you. I’ll talk to him, just please stay.”

You touched your forehead, glancing over her shoulder and quickly looking away when your eyes met the man in question’s.

“They’re your friends, not mine. I really should go…”

She perked up.

“Well, they don’t have to just be my friends-.”

“No, Sarah. I can’t be friends with them-.”

“Why, because of Rafe?” she incredulously wondered. “Do you hear how crazy that sounds?”

You ignored her when the familiar woman came from the back, quickly paying for your meals. When you were done, you only gave Sarah an even look, grabbing your purse.

“You know what your brother is like. Pope can take you home, right?”

You could see on her face that she wanted to argue this some more, a deep frown on her face, but you witnessed the decision to save it for another time. You weren’t stupid enough to think she was going to let this go. She eyed you.

“We’re probably going to John B.’s later, so yeah. I can leave with them.”

Preferring to ignore her mood, you smiled and thanked her for the invite. You said goodbye to Pope and JJ on your way out, thinking of just how shitty your luck was. You’d never put it past Rafe to drop in on you, and you didn’t want to imagine how things would be if he witnessed you having lunch with anyone other than Sarah…but especially Pope and JJ. You were just at your car when you heard hurried footsteps behind you, and you tensed at the sound of your name.

Unfortunately, the face matched the voice when you turned around.

JJ wasn’t close to you, but he was close enough to where you leaned against your car in an effort to put space between you. If he noticed, he said nothing, and you watched him run his hand through his blond locks. You didn’t know what he wanted and considering the last result of a conversation with him, you warily eyed him.

“Look, Sarah told me that Rafe was mad at you about what I said,” he sounded apologetic. “I didn’t know that.”

“Why? You knew it would piss him off. That’s why you said it.”

He frowned, glancing away.

“Yeah, but I didn’t think…”

“At the very best you knew it would cause conflict between us. Again…that’s why you said it,” you told him.

JJ stared at you, and you watched him blink, tilting his head.

“Do you ever wonder why you have a boyfriend who loses his shit anytime you even so much as look at another man?”

You scoffed.

“Don’t try to turn this around-!”

“I mean, it’s the truth. You felt bad, you apologized, and call me crazy, but I don’t think that’s something he should get mad at you for,” he casually said with a shrug.

“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t get paid to think.”

You watched his brows raise in shock at your words, a budding smile on his lips. JJ crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing you from head to toe, and you felt something twist in your gut at his perusal.

“Are you always this feisty or is that privilege just reserved for me?”

Rolling your eyes, you turned to open your door when he spoke again.

“Look, I’m sorry, alright? I mean that…”

You hesitated, your gaze focused on your window. You stared at his reflection in it.

“I won’t say anything next time. Ever again, actually.”

With a resigned sigh, you accepted his apology, opening your door.

“There won’t be a next time,” you told him, glancing at him as you slid inside. “We’re not friends, JJ, and we’ll never be. Stop talking to me, I mean it.”

Your words held conviction, but you felt like JJ didn’t take them seriously. He only eyed you, slowly nodding as you closed your door. Resisting the urge to glance at him again, you drove off, only feeling relief the closer you got to your house.

It was the middle of the night when you found yourself in the Camerons’ kitchen, getting something to drink because sleep was evading you. You knew that you couldn’t be gone for long, no telling when Rafe would notice the lack of body heat next to him. The rest of the house was asleep, and Sarah was with John B.

…and so that was why you were startled by the front door opening.

You could tell they were trying to be quiet, but hushed tones and the shuffle of feet was loud to anyone who was awake—you. Blinking, and filled with a mix of curiosity and concern, you made your way to the kitchen entrance. It was dark, but not dark enough to make the three figures hard to make out. When you turned on the light, Sarah actually jumped in shock.

You could tell that she hadn’t expected anyone to be up, but even as she approached you, it wasn’t her nor John B. you were focused on. The blond with them looked almost unrecognizable to you, and you sharply inhaled at the sight of him. He was barely able to stand—no matter how much he tried to—and you could only pull your eyes away when Sarah whispered your name.

“I’m just here to use our first aid kit,” she told you, trying to explain. “John B. doesn’t have shit at his house, and Kie’s parents are so anal about JJ—any of her friends besides me, really.”

Once you gathered your thoughts, you blinked at her, shaking your head.

“It’s your house, Sarah. You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” you assured her.

“I know, but I’d just really rather not wake anyone up…and it’s also not something I feel like explaining to anyone.”

She glanced over her shoulder, giving John B. a nod, and you watched him pull JJ towards the downstairs guest bathroom. Your lips parted, and you looked at Sarah again.

“Is he going to be okay?”

Sarah pressed her lips together, and when she rolled her eyes, you could see the irritation and anger on her features.

“He always is,” she snidely replied.

At your concerned and questioning look, her face fell some.

“It’s nothing he hasn’t dealt with before,” she finally admitted. “His dad…”

Sarah trailed off with a shrug, and you swallowed.

“Oh,” was all you said, your heart sinking. “I’d heard things, but…I didn’t know it was that bad.”

“I just don’t get why he doesn’t go live with John B. or something,” she mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. “Just because Luke is family…”

She sneered the man’s name, and you felt your frown deepen.

“It’s probably not that simple.”

At the look she gave you, you hurried to continue.

“I just mean it’s probably not that black and white for JJ. No one likes staying anywhere that’s bad for them, but maybe there’s a sense of loyalty he can’t shake yet,” you explained. “If he left his house for good, he just might end up feeling guilty.”

Sarah thought that over, eyeing you in the process.

“Maybe. That doesn’t make it any easier to witness this time and time again,” she sighed.

You didn’t say anything to that, unsure of what to say. When she left to join John B. in assisting their friend, you weren’t keen on retreating to Rafe’s bedroom just yet. You weren’t some professional psychologist, but you didn’t need to be to know why the sight of JJ and the confirmation of his volatile home life affected you so much.

The sight of his bloody and bruised face was unfortunately reminiscent for you.

Your feet made the decision for you, grabbing another glass of water before rummaging in your purse for some painkillers. Sarah was in the hall when you walked around the corner, and she straightened at the sight of you. The bathroom door was cracked, but John B.’s voice carried as he talked to JJ.

“Here, give him these.”

She took the pills and water with a small smile, thanking you. The moment was interrupted by JJ’s tone.

“I can stand just fine,” he sighed. “Just give me a minute…”

John B.’s protest was clear, but you surmised that JJ waved him off, getting his way when the door swung open. The brunette was briefly thrown by the sight of you before acknowledging you, making his way outside. The sound of your name in the air got JJ’s attention, and you wondered just how out of it he’d been to only just now realize you were up.

“Here. Y/N brought these for you,” Sarah told him, voice stern as she demanded he take them.

Getting the hint that he wanted a moment to himself, Sarah took a step back.

“Make sure he takes those,” she told you before going to join her boyfriend.

Truthfully, Rafe was the last thing on your mind as you looked at JJ. Now that his face was clean, he didn’t look as bad, but the bruising and cut on his lip still made you frown. You and he were so far from friends, so standing in the hallway while he leaned one hand on the sink started to feel awkward. You were just about to remind him of the pills and leave when he spoke.

“It’s the middle of the night.”

The observation wasn’t the most astute, and you frowned in confusion. When he swung his head to face you, straightening with difficulty, you didn’t miss the way his blue eyes ran along your face.

“It’s the middle of the night,” he repeated. “…and your face is caked in makeup. Is that one of Rafe’s conditions? Remain perfect at all times?”

You pressed your lips together as he popped the painkillers, swallowing them down with the entire glass of water. You couldn’t very well tell him that you’d spent fifteen minutes covering the bruises on your cheek and neck before coming down on the off chance that you ran into a Cameron that wasn’t Rafe.

“I forgot to wash my face,” was your simple answer.

Your tone was light, unconvincing, and you could tell that JJ didn’t believe you. You didn’t know how, but something about the glint in his eye told you so.

“I’m sorry,” you finally said. “About your dad.”

The blond moved to lean against the doorjamb, staring at you.

“Don’t be. I’m used to it.”

“You shouldn’t be,” you argued.

“Yeah, well, we’re both used to a lot of things we shouldn’t be,” he said, making you bristle. “I should’ve known better. After all…I know what he’s like.”

You didn’t appreciate having your own words thrown back in your face, doubly so because JJ didn’t realize just how much it messed with you. It was funny. When you told him that about Rafe, it made sense to you. That was how you maneuvered around Rafe and so you just wanted JJ to learn to maneuver around him the same way if he wanted to avoid his temper.

Now, however, hearing him repeat that about his own father just made you feel…nauseated.

“That’s not an excuse-.”

“Isn’t it?” JJ wondered, moving closer.

He held your gaze, and the look in his eyes had you biting the inside of your cheek. You couldn’t stop your frown, nostrils flaring at the words he silently threw at you. He didn’t say them, but he didn’t need to.

“That’s different,” you argued.

JJ frowned, head tilted in confusion.

“How so? My dad’s an asshole, Rafe’s an asshole,” he drawled. “Now, Rafe may not be a physically abusive asshole, but walking on tippy toes around him just to navigate his shitty personality isn’t exactly healthy.”

You stumbled back when JJ took another step towards you, lips parting when he cut you off.

“You can’t even have lunch with his sister without the fear of some guy that isn’t Rafe crashing the date…because you know he would just fly off the handle.”

You swallowed down your anger and annoyance at how right he was, glancing away with a huff.

“You don’t know anything about my relationship.”

“I know enough,” he fired back with a smirk.

When your back grazed the wall, it was then that you realized just how close he was. The bruising on his face looked so much scarier this close, and your eyes traced the blood on his lip. Your heartbeat was uneven at his close proximity, and you pressed yourself further into the wall. JJ’s eyes flitted between your own, and when you swallowed, they zeroed in on the action, gaze lingering on your throat.

“I know that if I kissed you, right now…” you sharply inhaled at that. “You wouldn’t tell Rafe…and not because you don’t want to hurt him…”

You slapped his hand way when it reached for your chin.

“…but because you’re fucking terrified of him.”

You furiously blinked, struggling to respond to that.

“You’re an asshole,” was all you could muster up with a frown, voice trembling.

JJ only softly chuckled to himself, nodding.

“Assholes are your type, so that doesn’t sting the same coming from you.”

Pushing your way out from in between him and the wall, you stomped away. You refused to look at him when he thanked you for the drugs, fighting to ignore the goosebumps along your arms underneath Rafe’s shirt.

[disneyprincemuke]

5 times * mv1

there are five times max almost caught himself saying he loves you, and then there's the time that he finally let you know

pairings: max verstappen x horner's niece!reader

warnings: i... don't know?

notes: yes, i'm making a comeback because i've gotten back into the mood of writing (i'm single) and because f1 has got me screaming, crying and throwing up. also, this took me 3 days to write, and i have grown attached. lmk if you guys want the counterpart (basically the same concept, but it's from your eyes???)

one.

"fucking," max cuts himself off, grabbing the closest thing to him. lucky for him, and his team, it's just his racing gloves, "bitch!"

it's just so infuriating to be so close to that podium. he crashed with 5 laps left of the race. his left rear decided to fail him stupidly near the end, after he'd poured his heart and soul to get on that podium. but here he is, moping in his driver's room.

after constantly being in the scrutiny of the public, especially with the way he handled losing, he'd resided here immediately. there's a bubbling anger rising up from him. he's so infuriated.

until a soft knock lands on his door. snapping him out of his thoughts, he knew what he wanted this time. "please leave me alone."

"okay. but christian just wants to know if you're alright." your voice sounds small. he could barely hear you with the door in the way.

he takes a deep breath, then walks over to the door. it reveals you with a hesitant smile on your face.

but he's always had a soft spot for you. all of the anger he'd been feeling merely 5 seconds ago dissipated. "oh. you're not in my room at the circuit often."

"i know. i'm sorry to intrude." you look down at the ground, your often confident self absolutely nowhere to be seen. "christian sent me to check in on you. i'll leave you alone, but i can't go back without an answer."

for starters, you're not a stranger to the signature max verstappen temper. but never has he directed it at you once. it's surely raised the eyebrows of christian horner the first time it happened when you joined the team.

one second he was all over the garage, only rude words coming out of his mouth. the next, he was silently raging as he sat on the tire of his car while you discussed dinner plans with your uncle.

"please, don't worry about it." he takes a step back, gesturing for you to enter the room. you do just that, although a bit hesitant. and he doesn't blame you for that. "come in."

there's a moment of silence between you two. for a moment, the engines from the cars outside start to die down, and the frequency of the fireworks is slowing down, and there are more footsteps in the gravel that surround the trailer.

"i'm okay." he leans on the massage table in the middle of the room. he still hasn't changed out of his race suit. his helmet, balaclava and gloves are all thrown in different directions of the room. they had all been victims of his uncontrollable rage.

it's apparent that he's not even close to being okay. he just has to bank on the fact that you don't probe with more questions.

"it's okay if you're not," you answer in a gentle tone. a soft audible sigh passes your lips as you sit on the couch in the opposite side of the small room. "it's just you and me. i'm not part of your racing team."

his eyes do the speaking again. the heaving of his chest is enough to tell you that he's actually contemplating it. without another moment's hesitation, he starts to go at it. all of the emotions he's been feeling lately, the frustration from just being 5 laps shy of being on that podium.

he's just ranting, throwing his hands in the air while he paces all over the room. he makes a mental note to find a way to make it up to you after this - you're just sitting there patiently, nodding your head empathetically while he talks.

it’s as if you knew and understood all that he’s talking about.

"it's just unfair! i did everything right this time!" he exclaims, hands clenched up into a fist. "i should have been up there! i deserved to be on that podium!"

there's one more thing that bothers him. you. whatever he feels for you. the way his heart races whenever you're around, or the way he's always thinking of the way you fix his hair for marketing promotion material - he can't get you out of his mind. for years, now.

he'd met you when he was 18, fresh into red bull racing as christian's new prodigy. he had only seen you a total of 15 times within the span of 3 and a half years. the transition from crumbs of your presence to full-out spending the whole racing season with you was more than his heart could handle.

now that he's gotten to know you better, the 22-year-old is almost convinced that he might actually have feelings for you. "and-"

he looks up from the ground, flinching back slightly when you're staring directly into his eyes from across the room. your eyes dart down to his hands and it's only then he notices how his hands are clenched into fists next to him.

he almost slipped up about his feelings for you. good thing he caught himself at the last second. his chest heaves as he looks at you, shoulders tensed up and eyebrows furrowed.

you raise an eyebrow, slowly nodding. you make a gesture with your hand to encourage him to continue saying whatever is on his mind. "and?"

"and," i have feelings for you, "it's just so unfair."

he feels his body melt at your stare. his shoulders slump, his breathing starts to regulate and his hands slowly unravel from a fist. it's just so unfair that he's so hopelessly smitten with his principal's niece.

"i know." you push yourself off the couch and walk over to him. stopping just a few steps from him, he looks at you sigh. "i'm sorry that it happened to you, max."

then a small grin slowly stretches his lips. the race is over - there is absolutely nothing he can do to change the result. he shrugs, "it's just racing."

"you can still feel angry about it," you grin, "it's just me."

max shakes his head with a soft chuckle. "i know. it's okay; i'm okay."

you drop your head slightly. max knows you don't buy his lie. of course, he's still angry about what happened. but there is still some truth to what he said - he got unlucky today with the car.

you take a deep breath. he's caught completely by surprise when your arms spread out, taking a step forward and engulfing him in the warmest hug.

he catches a whiff of all your scents - your shampoo, your perfume, and creepily enough, the soap you use for your clothes. and he completely basks in your embrace, his arms wrapping themselves around your smaller frame. his neck rests on your shoulder, silently straining his back just to take you in.

"i know you're not," you whisper. you lean your head into his as you rub circles on his clothed back. "i'm here for you, okay?"

and he wants to say it to you. he gets an inkling, after you just spent the better part of 20 minutes letting him scream about his feelings, that this is bigger than himself.

"i," he trails off, arms tightening around you. he closes his eyes, repeatedly reminding himself that he's not willing to risk it. he releases the breath he's been holding. "thank you."

two.

max can barely keep himself upright in the seat. he's clutching onto his balaclava, eyes following the light shone into his eyes as per the doctor's request.

he had a bad crash with lewis during the race that sent him flying into the walls. he blacked out for a couple of seconds, and he's been in pain since they escorted him to the medical centre.

there's a soft knock on the door, before he hears the creak followed by footsteps. "i'll be back with results, okay?" the doctor straightens up before walking away from him. he acknowledges the presence of someone new, then proceeded to walk out of the room.

the relief max immediately felt when he sees you standing shyly by the door, hands clasped together.

"are you okay?" you ask softly, slowly making your way over to him. "i came as soon as i heard what happened to you. that was horrible, what happened to you."

he tilts his head at you, ignoring the strain in his neck and the pounding in his head. "as soon as you heard?"

you chuckle, glancing down at the floor in what could only be described as embarrassment. "i was in the bathroom taking a piss when geri ran in yelling for me," you admit.

your eyes roam his body, your eyes matching the empathetic stares of everyone he has looked at since he was helped out of that stupid car. he hates it. he hates being on the receiving end of those stares, but it was strangely comforting coming from you.

"are you alright? do you have any more injuries?" you ask. you look at him, hands hovering above his hand that rests on his knee. max gives you a small nod of consent.

"it's just a concussion, from what i can feel," max admits. though, it hurts everywhere. when you crash into a wall at that speed and black out, it's definitely going to hurt everywhere that it can.

he's watching you intently. you're lifting his sleeves to scan for bruises and moving about the neckline of his race suit to look for any injuries. there's a tingling sensation that you leave behind as your fingers graze over his now exposed skin.

"i'm okay."

"i don't buy that at all," you scoff. you reach over for the empty plastic chair and pull it to his side. you take a seat. "i'm glad you're okay. i was really worried something bad had happened."

he smiles. the way you care for him never fails to make his stomach churn and his heart start to race. "it could've been worse. i'm glad it's just a concussion i've got."

you turn your head to look at him. god, he wishes he can just take you in for an embrace and reassure you that he's perfectly fine. because he is. it's just some body aches - nothing he hasn't had to go through before as an athlete.

"i'm sorry about the race." you take his towel into your hands and fold it up. you gently tap on his face, wiping away the sweat that had formed on his face. "let me know if you need anything, okay? water, ice... food..."

"i will handle," he grins, his gaze following your hands' movements. "thank you, though."

you don't say anything. you just smile at him as you put the towel back down on his knee. you rest your hand just above the damp material and tilt your head at him. "how do you feel, though?"

"g-"

"about the points," you cut him off. "it's a close fight for the driver's championship. how do you feel about that?"

he shrugs, pouting his lips out. you widen your eyes at him as you anticipate the next thing coming from his mouth. "it's just racing. i'll come back next weekend."

you roll your eyes and lean back into the chair. both of your eyes are on the tv, watching the broadcast of the race together. "i believe in you. there's still a long season ahead of you."

he moves his eyes to look at you. not his head fully - he doesn't need you catching him stare at you. your unconditional support for him just made him want to jump for joy.

thought, sometimes he does wonder if you're only doing it because you work for the team. but other times you're just so believable that he thinks it's him as a person you're rooting for.

and god, he wants it to him so bad.

"it feels like forever - this pain," he admits. without thinking, his hand instinctively reaches forward. he puts his hand above yours. he squeezes your hand.

he sees you shake your head. you manoeuvre your hand. now your palms are touching. he could have sworn it was the concussion making him see and feel things when you intertwine your fingers.

if he were to be honest with you, he feels like this could the lowest point of the season for him. that rear failure earlier on felt minuscule compared to this crash. deep down inside, there's a fear that there's no coming back from this.

you squeeze his hand, slightly tighter than he had done to you just a few seconds prior. "i wish i could make it better. i'm sorry, max."

your voice wavers as you speak to him. and it kills him that you’re so worried for him. he does have a healthy support system, as much as the public wants to make it out that he’s too cold for that.

max wants to reassure you, just as you'd done with him. but he doesn't even know how to do that. your presence now, while he's still slightly out of it from the crash, is enough to put him at ease.

he sighs, squeezing your hand once more. it's at the tip of his tongue. if he could just convince himself to say it to you.

yet, he settles with, "you're the best."

three.

max leans back into the wall, arms folded over his chest. the strobing lights, the music bouncing off the walls, and a plethora of bodies surround him.

next to him, sebastian is deep in conversation with daniel. a conversation that he had tuned out of a few minutes ago. when he found you on the dance floor, terrorising alex and lily with your dance moves.

if you asked him, he would've told you that you're a natural at many things. dancing, unfortunately, is not one of them.

his silent pining comes to a halt when he meets lily's gaze from across the room. a knowing smile on the girl's face, he feels his cheeks heat up when she drags alex down to whisper something in his ear while pointing at max accusingly. alex turns his head in max's direction and his body shakes with a laugh.

great. they've caught on.

alex nods and raises his eyebrows at max teasingly. alex glances at you, shocked to find out that you've managed to shimmy your way 5 metres down the dance floor to now terrorise george and carmen.

max smiles to him, watching alex bend over backwards to get your attention. it's proven a challenge when you sandwich yourself between them.

when alex manages to finally get your attention, you just smile at him. you hand him the empty glass in your hand and grab carmen's hands. it's a wonderful sight - alex struggling to get your attention. but when he did, max swears his heart skips a beat.

because you lean into alex, listening to what he says into your ear. alex points in his direction and your face lights up when your eyes meets his.

you stride across the room and push yourself through the crowd. before he knew it, you're staring up at him with a toothy grin and wide eyes.

from the corner of his eyes, he notices sebastian and daniel have stopped their conversation. across the room, lily and carmen have flagged their boyfriends down. all eyes are on the two of you.

"what are you doing here all by yourself? you should be out on the dance floor celebrating!" you shout over the music, tiptoeing slightly to meet max's height. "you just won a race!"

"i'm good here, thanks!" max laughs, moreso at your state. your cheeks are puffed up and your lips are swollen. even your voice sounds damaged from all the screaming you've done. "enjoy your evening, please! don't worry about me!"

you shake your head in urgency. "no! you have to celebrate!"

he continues to look down at you, genuinely considering if he should let your persuasion tactics work on him tonight. who is he kidding; he can never say no to you.

"okay, but i'm driving us back to the hotel. so no drinks for me." before he could finish his sentence, you've managed to yank him off the wall. your hand has a firm grip around his wrist as you guide him through the crowd towards the bar counter.

"we'll get a cab!" you stop right at the bar and turn around to look at him. "you won the race today! aren't you excited? are you not at least a little bit prideful that you're leading the driver's championship again?"

max supposes you have a point. he should be excited. here he is in his 6th year in formula 1, being so close to clinching the world champion title for the first time in his life. it's just one night, right?

he can't possibly let you be more excited for his achievements than himself. that's just not right. did he not believe in himself?

he watches you prop yourself up on the bar stool, carefully telling the bartender your order. max's hands hover over your body, just in case you'd fall.

once again, you have managed to make his heart race by putting so much emphasis on his achievements. he's made his way onto the podium several times now that it seems almost mundane for him to end up there.

he wants the next big thing; he wants the world championship title. but why exactly is he waiting a whole few months just to celebrate again?

"come on, max! let loose a little. you don't have to wait for the season to be over to celebrate," you answer genuinely. for a moment there, max almost thinks you're sober. "if you don't want to celebrate your small wins, at least let me do it for you?"

he huffs. you're a lot more convincing when you pretend to be sober, after having downed a couple glasses of cocktails.

you tilt the unscrewed bottle of beer towards him, a freshly mixed glass of cocktail in your other. "congrats on winning the race today, max. i'm so proud of you."

max takes the bottle out of your hands. he willingly taps the neck of the bottle onto the rim of your glass. "cheers," he grins, watching you excitedly sipping away on your mojito.

if he could guess, you’re 6 glasses in. you’re definitely going to regret it in the morning.

you swiftly intertwine your fingers with his and start to pull him towards the dance floor. "let's go celebrate!"

you stop abruptly, your cocktail almost spilling all over your dress as he plants his feet into the ground. you squeeze his hand and look up at him shyly with your chests almost touching. even in the sea of people in the club, you managed to make it feel so intimate.

just you and him.

can he really excuse the words threatening to slip out of his mouth with half the bottle of beer in his system? can he just say it without you remembering it the next day?

but you beat him to saying something. "i'm so proud of you, max."

he smiles, letting a small breath out. he squeezes your hand. "thank you. you're the best."

four.

it's upsetting, really, not having you in the paddock all weekend. what you'd thought to be a simple itchy throat from all the sweets you've consumed had turned into a covid scare. you're isolated in the hotel, albeit having tested negative, already better.

the team couldn't risk getting either driver contracting a sickness. especially not max, a clear contender for the title this year.

max has not seen you since tuesday. the photos of him on the red bull racing social media platforms are just not as good when it's not you taking them. nobody else on the marketing team ever tells him his hair is a mess. neither do you - you always just reach in to fix his hair for him.

max huffs, adjusting his shirt as he stood in front of your hotel room. the small bouquet of flowers suffocate in the grip of his hands. a plastic hangs on his fingers.

the lock clicks. the door is slowly pulled open. there you are, in all your glory. your hair is up in a ponytail, you're in your pyjamas with juice in your hand. your eyes widen. "max! what are you doing here?"

with flowers in his hands, there's really only so many excuses he can make up. he tilts his head and his eyes narrow down. he's searching his brain for an excuse - something that doesn't scream the fact that he is hopelessly in love with you. "um..."

he stays in the hallway of the hotel, and you stay inside with your hand still on the door handle.

when he had gotten off the race track, alex had celebrated with him. at some point, max expected someone to bring it up. it just shocked him that it had taken this long.

alex gave him a firm pat on the back as they strolled the paddock after media commitments. and the question finally came up. "so are you ever going to ask (y/n) out?"

the question should not have even shocked him in the first place. he had been sitting around waiting for someone to ask him this. nevertheless, he was still dumbfounded by the question.

he started explaining - how he can never get around to asking you out. you're christian's beloved niece. first of the next generation. christian even introduced you as the daughter he had to raise before he ever thought about having kids of his own.

and alex gave him the weirdest stare. because everyone on the paddock could easily tell max had feelings for you. he didn't do much to hide it either. it'd apparently been so bad that even toto wolff sneaks around the paddock with questions if there's been progress.

and so, here he is, standing in front of your hotel room after having won his home race. when he managed to escape his pr manager, he took a shower and immediately bought flowers, some food and came straight to you.

he missed you all week.

"max?"

his answer comes out in a ramble. if you hadn't spent so much time with him, you probably wouldn't have understood. but in your week of absence, the driver doted on you with video messages, voice messages and pictures. endless updates with the grid, the drama, the placements.

anything to make it feel like you were still there with him.

"can i take you out on a date?"

his heart races. beads of sweat form on his forehead. the hallway, that had once felt so icy suddenly became so warm.

"what?" your jaw drops, eyebrows are raised in shock. the silence is deafening.

is this some kind of sick prank alex is pulling on him?

immediately, max goes into defensive mode. "i mean, it's okay if you don't! i just thought if i don't shoot my shot now, then i'll never know. i won't take it personally!" he lifts up the plastic filled with tupperwares of food. "i even brought you supper!"

you scoff with a laugh bubbling up from your stomach. you leap up from your spot, throwing yourself onto max. you lift your feet off the ground. his available arm wraps around your waist to stabilise you. his other arm, already busy with gifts for you, darts out to hold the door ajar.

and what does this mean, exactly? max verstappen has never been one to take these things for an answer. he needs is in black and white - in the clearest of clarifications.

"yes, of course!" you squeal into his shoulder. okay, now he can celebrate. it had taken you a solid 10 seconds in a tight embrace before you decided that the hotel's hallways were too exposing for your liking.

finally, he lets you guide him into the hotel room. he can't stop the wide grin forming on his face either. by the looks of it, neither can you.

"right. these are for you," max finally says, holding out the bouquet of flowers to you. "and i'm sorry i'm late. i could have gotten here earlier if it weren't for alex and lando fighting me over what flowers to get you."

your eyebrow raises, willingly receiving the flowers. "you were in cahoots with those two?"

"and george," max shrugs simply, scrunching up his nose. "but he was easier to deal with than those two."

you smile, if it's possible to get even bigger than what's already there, as your fingers lightly graze over the petals of the flowers. max simply stands back while he watches you admire the brightly coloured bouquet.

he's confident about one thing that night: what kind of flowers to get you. so when lando and alex were fighting him over which flowers to get you, they were simply debating over the roses.

but he is in the netherlands. what else could have been the right choice of flowers but the tulips? and he's in an expensive sport, after all. it would be so uncharacteristic of him to undermine the way he felt for you.

long story short, he got the most gigantic bouquet filled with striped tulips. he spent 150 euros. that's not even near the amount he knows he feels for you.

if you asked him for the world, he'd simply exhaust every single resource he has to give it to you.

"thank you so much," you coo, finally looking up at him. you lean in, pressing a firm kiss to his cheek. and he will absolutely spend the rest of his night thinking of this exact moment.

this is quite possibly the furthest he's gone with you. and he almost slips up again. he should've just said it, but he's just not quite sure he should. it's just going to scare you off.

"oh! and, congrats on the race win today," you cheer before pressing your lips against his cheek again.

max grins. he doesn’t know why he put it past you. you’ve made it clear you’re going to be his biggest fan. “oh, you watched the race?”

you’re gently laying the bouquet on top of the table in the corner of your room. “of course. it was a brilliant race. i'm so proud of you."

he just squeezes your shoulder. "thank you. you're the best."

five.

in his dark hotel room, the tv illuminates your face as your eyes lock on the movie you've chosen. it's the only way max can see your face. he'd love to be able to pay attention to this movie, but how could be when you're all tangled up with him.

"are you scared?" you suddenly mutter. your first words in almost 20 minutes, almost making him question if you're making conversation because you're falling asleep.

"what?" he's genuinely dumbfounded with the question. he glances at the tv, curious if he had dozed off long enough for you to choose another movie. but no. it's still mamma mia playing. "we're watching a musical."

max watches your body heave up, then down. "for tomorrow."

he tenses up. he's been trying his hardest not to think about it at all, actually. since he'd finished up his evening with media commitments, he just went straight to you in the garage office. he packed his bags and took you out to dinner.

he's secured pole position for tomorrow. he didn't want to think of anything else right now.

he doesn't want that stress passed on to you.

max hums, suddenly feeling an interest in the musical. it's meryl streep singing abba, after all. how can he not be any more interested? he shrugs. "okay, i guess."

he avoids your eyes. all eyes and remaining attention of the evening is on the actress belting out a song. and it's rudely interrupted when you pause it.

you stumble around, propping yourself up to your elbow to give him a stern look. "okay?" sometimes max forgets you're now his girlfriend. he forgets that he doesn't have to put up a front to shield you from his real emotions. "what do you mean 'okay'?"

he sighs. he turns his head back to face you, almost flinching at the glare you're giving him. he clears his throat as he pushes himself up against the arm of the couch. he sits cross-legged and you mirror his posture. he shrugs again. "i can't overthink it now. i just have to do my best tomorrow."

you throw your hands up in the air, scoffing. "what?"

max is at a loss for words. what response, exactly, did you expect out of him? "what?" he says back, hands also thrown up into the air. from the amount of time you've spent around him on the race track, he expected you to know his mindset when stepping into a race.

he can't overthink it before he even gets on the track. in fact, there is no room for that at all.

you resign to the other end of the couch and fold your arms over your chest. you even pull your feet back, not wanting to be in the range of his touch.

"(y/n), i don't know what you want me to say, darling," max responds gently. he's slightly annoyed, yes, but he doesn't want that to triumph your relationship. "you know the clear mind i need to get into a race. if i overthink, that's when it's over for me."

you roll your eyes. "no. it's just you and me. there is absolutely no way you have no opinions about the race tomorrow. not even a single thought? seriously, max?" you tear your eyes from him. "i'm not christian."

max sighs. he scooches over to you on the over end of the couch. though you squeeze yourself further into the armrest away from him.

he huffs, wrapping his arms around you. he pulls you in and presses a kiss to the top of your head. "of course, i have a thought in my head about the race. but if i let it get to me, darling, it can cost me the championship."

you hum, but there's a hint of annoyance. though, you give in. because you drop your head back on his shoulder and pout. "okay, fine. race your heart out, max. i just know you've got this."

he gives you a slight squeeze. a weaker one compared to others. honestly? he's terrified of screwing up tomorrow. he just wants that title so bad. all his life, he's worked for it.

he's simply afraid to let christian down. more importantly, he's afraid to let you down. though his handful of mental breaks about being so close to the final race of the season, you'd reassure him that you'll always be proud of him no matter what.

it's just not enough for him.

the movie starts to play again. you coddle up into his lap and he rests his cheeks on your head. i love you.

thank you, you're the best.

max has not been able to get the ringing out of his head since he crossed the checkered flag. he has not been able to think straight since then.

he just won his first world championship title. he's on his knees, his head resting on the tire. all 58 laps, all he could think of is how is he going to win? how will the season play out?

he finally lifts his head, dropping himself back to sit on the track of the abu dhabi track. he groans loudly, almost into a scream, as he unclips his helmet. he yanks it off his head, then his balaclava almost immediately.

he is feeling so many things.

then across the barrier, he sees you. eyes filled with tears, hair pulled back into a ponytail, in your very own red bull racing uniform. his stare down with you doesn't last long. christian is quick to yank you away.

and he spends the next 5 minutes scanning the crowd for you. sure, he wants to celebrate with the people that made it possible for him to even be there in the first place. but there is you.

"max!" your voice makes him whirl around. a sigh of relief slumps his shoulder. it's you.

his face lights up at the sight of you. just a minute ago, he felt so drained. he barely found it in himself to walk to his team for cheers. yet here he is jogging towards you.

"world champion, max verstappen!" you scream. you leap off the ground, legs quickly wrapping around his waist.

his arms wrap around your torso, just holding you close to his body. "i'm so proud of you," you cry into his already wet neck. you wrap your arms around his shoulders tighter. "i fucking told you."

he doesn't even know what to think. his mind is in a jumble of thoughts. it's undeniable that you had pushed him to his best this season. just having you there, reassuring him every single weekend. even when he crashed, even when he'd retired out of a race.

your legs slowly drop back down to the ground, and he finally gets a good look at your face. for some reason, you're just as sweaty as he is. the ponytail on your head is falling apart and the makeup running down your face almost makes him laugh.

then the excitement obviously hits you again. because you give him a firm and strong pat on his shoulder. "you proved them all wrong, max! you're a world champion!"

his chin is held high and his chest is puffed out. you'd never doubted him. it almost brings him to his knees how much support you had for him.

max is so full of emotion. the race, the title; you. you jump in your spot and clap, nose scrunching up in delight. "i told you this was your season! i knew it all along!"

and he just blurts it out. "(y/n), i love you."

you don't even hesitate. it's like you'd been waiting around to say it too. "i'm so fucking proud of you. i love you."

[23victoria]

vibes

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: cussing, unwanted touching, bestfriends to lovers

authors note: i listened to vibes by chase atlantic when i wrote this last night really quickly cause i’m so behind on requests. so i’m so sorry if it’s shit! not prof read so sorry for any mistakes, also wrote this on my laptop and not my phone so i think grammarly made auto corrections, sorry about that, any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!

wanna be apart of my taglist?! CLICK HERE!

f1 masterlist 1k celebration

The night's buzz is almost overwhelming as you step into the club, the electric energy in the air matching the high spirits of everyone around you. Max had just secured yet another victory and the entire crew decided a night out was the perfect way to celebrate. You’ve known Max for years since you started working as a commentator and interviewer for F1. The two of you clicked instantly, forming a close friendship that grew stronger with time.

But despite the late nights spent together, the countless inside jokes, and the deep conversations shared after long race weekends, there’s always been something unspoken between you. You’ve watched Max go through a relationship, and break up, and now, for some time, he’s been single. It’s been even harder lately to ignore the feelings you’ve harbored for him, but fear of ruining your friendship keeps you silent.

The music pulses through the room, and laughter fills the air as you weave through the crowd with Max by your side. He’s in high spirits tonight, smiling and laughing with everyone, and you can’t help but feel a warmth spread through you seeing him like this. His happiness is contagious, and for a moment, you let go of your reservations and join in the fun.

The music pounds through the speakers, the bass reverberating in your chest as you dance with your friends, lost in the carefree atmosphere of the night. You’re trying to immerse yourself in the moment, to let loose and enjoy the celebration, but something keeps pulling you out of it. You can feel eyes on you, and it’s making your skin crawl. Every time you glance around, you see him—the guy who’s been hovering near you for most of the night, his gaze too intense, too invasive.

You try to shake it off, telling yourself to focus on having fun. After all, you’re here to celebrate Max’s victory, and you don’t want anything to spoil the night. But then, out of nowhere, you feel it—his hand on your waist. It’s like a bucket of cold water has been poured over you, the chill of his touch instantly snapping you out of the moment. You tense up, your body going rigid as alarm bells start ringing in your mind.

You immediately step away, trying to put some distance between you and him, but he’s persistent. He follows, his hand still on you, tightening his grip as he leans in closer. The smell of alcohol on his breath hits you, making you recoil.

“Please, stop touching me,” you say, your voice firm but polite, hoping he’ll get the message and back off. For a moment, it seems like he does—his hand drops from your waist, and he takes a step back, raising his hands in mock surrender. You force a smile, relieved that it’s over, and try to get back into the groove of the music, but the unease lingers.

Five minutes pass, and you start to relax again, laughing with your friends as you dance, the earlier tension beginning to fade. But just as you’re starting to enjoy yourself again, you feel it—his hand, creeping back onto your waist. This time, it’s more insistent, more possessive, as he tries to slide it lower, fingers brushing dangerously close to the edge of your dress.

Your blood runs cold. Panic surges through you as you try to pull away, but his grip tightens, holding you in place. Your heart pounds in your chest, a mix of fear and anger bubbling up inside you.

Before you can react, a familiar presence looms over you, and suddenly, the guy is yanked away from you with a force that sends him stumbling back. Max is there, his usually calm and collected demeanor replaced with a fierce, protective anger. He grabs the guy by the collar of his shirt, pulling him close until their faces are just inches apart.

“What the fuck are you doing? Huh?! Who the fuck do you think you are?!” Max’s voice is sharp, a dangerous edge to it that you rarely hear. His blue eyes blaze with fury as he stares the guy down, every inch of him radiating anger. “Didn’t she tell you to stop? So why the fuck are you touching my girl?! 

The words hang in the air, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. His girl. Max just called you his girl. The realization hits you like a freight train, but there’s no time to dwell on it as the bouncer arrives, having noticed the commotion. 

The guy stammers out a half-hearted apology, but Max isn’t having any of it. He pushes him away, standing protectively in front of you. The other drivers, who had been enjoying themselves a moment ago, are now watching intently, ready to back Max up if needed. But the bouncer is already there, having noticed the commotion.

“Get this piece of shit out of here,” Max orders, his voice leaving no room for argument. The bouncer doesn’t hesitate, grabbing the guy and dragging him towards the exit. You can’t help but feel a mix of relief and embarrassment as everyone’s eyes turn back to you. The adrenaline from the confrontation has left you shaken, and all you want to do is get out of there.

“I think…I think I’m going to head home,” you say, your voice a little shaky. The rest of the group immediately offers to leave as well, but you shake your head. “No, you guys stay. Have fun. I just need to get some rest.”

“I’ll drive you home,” Max says, his tone leaving no room for argument. You open your mouth to protest, not wanting to ruin his night, but he cuts you off. “Y/N, I’m taking you home. End of discussion.”

You know better than to argue when he’s in this mood, so you simply nod, letting him lead you out of the club. The car ride is silent, the tension thick between you. You keep replaying the events of the night in your head, trying to make sense of Max’s reaction. The way he called you “his girl” to the guy has your mind spinning, but you don’t dare bring it up, unsure of what it means—or maybe too scared to hope.

When you finally reach your apartment, you hesitate before getting out of the car. “Do you…do you want to come up?” you ask, your voice almost timid. Max looks at you for a moment before nodding.

“Sure.”

Once inside, you head to your room to change into something more comfortable, grateful for a moment to gather your thoughts. Meanwhile, Max busies himself in the kitchen. When you return, you find him making a sandwich, a small, amused smile on his face when he notices you watching.

“I figured you might be hungry,” he says, sliding the plate towards you as you sit at the counter. The two of you eat in silence, the weight of everything that’s gone unsaid hanging in the air.

It’s you who finally breaks the silence. “Max…about tonight…”

He looks up at you, his expression unreadable. “What about it?”

You take a deep breath, gathering the courage to say what’s been on your mind since the moment he stepped in to protect you. “You called me ‘your girl’ back there. Why?”

Max’s eyes search yours, and for a moment, you see something in them—something deep, something vulnerable. He sets down his sandwich and leans across the counter, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Because…because that’s what you are to me,” he admits, his voice soft but firm. “You’ve always been my girl, Y/N. I just…I never had the guts to say it. I was afraid of messing things up between us, but seeing that guy…seeing him touch you, I just…I couldn’t stand it.”

His words leave you speechless, a mix of disbelief and overwhelming joy washing over you. You’ve wanted to hear those words for so long, but you never thought you actually would.

“Max…are you saying…?” you trail off, too afraid to finish the sentence, too scared to hope that this could actually be happening.

He reaches out, taking your hand in his, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you for a long time. I just…I didn’t want to lose you by telling you.”

For a moment, all you can do is stare at him, your heart racing in your chest. Then, slowly, a smile spreads across your face, and you squeeze his hand.**

“I love you too, Max,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve loved you for so long, but I was too scared to say anything. I didn’t want to ruin what we have.”

Max lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, his face breaking into a wide, relieved smile. “God, we’re such idiots,” he laughs, moving around the counter to pull you into his arms. “All this time, and we’ve both been too afraid to say anything.”

You laugh too, the sound filled with a mix of relief and happiness. “Yeah, we are,” you agree, resting your head against his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath your cheek. “But at least we finally figured it out.”

Max pulls back slightly, tilting your chin up so you’re looking into his eyes. “And now that we have,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with emotion, “we have all the time in the world.”

You smile up at him, your heart swelling with love for this man who’s been your best friend for so long, and now, finally, something more. “Yeah, we do,” you agree softly before leaning up to press your lips to his.

The kiss is slow and tender at first, both of you savoring the moment that’s been a long time coming. But soon, it deepens, the pent-up emotions from years of unspoken feelings pouring out. Max’s hands cup your face as he kisses you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go, and you melt into him, feeling like you’re finally where you’re meant to be.

When you finally pull back, both of you are breathless, and you can’t help but laugh again, the joy bubbling up inside you. “We really are idiots,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief. “How did it take us this long?”

Max chuckles, pressing his forehead against yours. “I don’t know,” he admits, “but I’m just glad we finally got here.”

You smile, leaning up to kiss him again, and this time, the kiss is filled with promise—a promise of a future together, of all the moments you’ll share now that the truth is out. And as you pull him closer, feeling his arms wrap around you, you know that this is just the beginning.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ taglist: @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly @avengers-assemble123456 @santanasaintmendes @km-23mr @hookhausenschips @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @Ronpho @minekarina @aeongism @formula1-motogpfa @slagclarens @aleexvqa @f1updates4you @booksandflowrs @chaostudee @winkev1 @strawblueberrys @yoncesgroove @tellybearryyyy @magixpracticality @eoduuung @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @demyackerman @oledoledoffen @acesbakery @oliviah-25 @bbwzrld

© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own

[yaoienjoyerwife]

BSD Men Jealousy HCs

My different HCs for how different BSD men are when they're jealous! This has Dazai, Atsushi, Kunikida, Ranpo, Akutagawa, Sigma, Lovecraft, and Bram!!! Also, I'm not doing colored text anymore because Tumblr doesn't have enough colors lol and also sorry if these are ooc, I just started writing for bsd

Dazai! ♡

Dazai isn't really the jealous type, after all, he trusts you can make good decisions and not cheat!

But when he does... he is whiney.

Though he'll also be giving the other person a glare for sure.

He'll threaten to kill himself but like as a joke of course.

You still get worried though.

Deep down when he does get jealous he feels really bad inside, but he hides it well. You'd have to do something to make him like super insanely jealous for him to express that.

Though do expect to not be able to walk the next day

Dazai will want to prove that he's better

Atsushi! ♡

Atsushi is very insecure; he genuinely believes he is nowhere near good enough to be with you.

That being said, he gets extremely jealous and his jealousy makes him sad because he THINKS you do deserve better.

You have to reassure him that he is the only one you want.

If you two live together expect cuddles that afternoon

Even if you don't live together expect to be invited over for cuddles

Kunikida! ♡

At first, he might try to hide his jealousy because obviously, you're just talking to a friend or co-worker or something

Jealousy and overprotectiveness aren't ideal is what he thinks

He is still jealous and gets overprotective of you

Though some people (Dazai) know how to get under his skin

Will stick around you for the rest of the day

If the culprit is indeed Dazai expect him to rant about that suicidal freak

He will never be mad at you for it of course, he's just too sweet and loves you too much

Ranpo! ♡

Whiney little baby about it

Will cling onto you

If someone is being too friendly with you and he doesn't like it (even if he can tell the person doesn't like you), he will force himself into the conversation and obnoxiously mention how your boyfriend is the worlds greatest detective

you can't tell if he's putting more emphasis on the fact he's your boyfriend or the fact he's the worlds greatest detective

Regardless expect to be made to cuddle and he will not let you leave until he's felt you've repaid him for the 'traumatic experience' he had from being jealous

He's not even really that jealous he just wants you to buy snacks for him and cuddle with him

Akutagawa! ♡

a lot of glaring and probably a threat or two.

If he sees you talking to the weretiger Atsushi, expect to witness a fight.

He is extremely overprotective of you, he is willing to fight or even kill people over you.

You have to tell him not to kill people...

Afterward, you will get silent treatment but not for long.

Loves you too much to avoid you

He might raise his voice at you, but he'll feel bad and apologize after he calms down

Sigma! ♡

100x more insecure than Atsushi

Won't bring it up to you but you can tell because he starts overworking more than he already does

Once you finally get him to stop overworking please do smother him with love

He wants you around him all the time afterward, just in the same room with him at the very least

He wants it to be just the two of you in his office while he works, like you can just be on your phone or sitting on his lap, just be close to him

Lovecraft! ♡

He does not get jealous actually

Someone would have to very obviously be hitting on you but if that were the case he'd be more irritated and less jealous, you are his 'mate' after all

He actually just drags you away from the person, even if you're a guild member and it's just one of your co-workers

He isn't very clingy or anything but he doesn't like you out of his sight for too long if someone flirts with you he just doesn't let them be alone with you

ever

You can't even go on missions with them

Bram! ♡

Wants to duel whoever is talking to you, especially if they are flirting

You have to explain to him 1. you aren't interested in the other person, and 2. he can't just duel people

He refuses to let you talk to the person anymore and if you must he has to be there, he doesn't want them flirting

Makes it very clear to the person that he is your lover

Threatens them later on

[miupow]

[ 7:45 pm ] - c. seungcheol

── ★ [ 💭 ] NSFW, MDNI! pure smut, dom!cheol, sub!fem!reader, oral (f. rec), voyeurism + exhibitionism, jeonghan and joshua mention, nasty nasty filth. 700 words

based on a request from my beloved @the-quiet-nerd-guy ♡

“cheol, the door—!” you gasp, hand desperately grasping seungcheol’s hair as he nuzzled your breasts. he blinks his pretty brown eyes up at you, gaze soft as a caress, so lovestruck and innocent for his dirty actions; tired of your teasing, in a second he had pulled you through the door and folded in half on the mattress, his thick arms caging you flush against his chest and his rough hands quick in tearing you out of your clothes. with your body bare and your legs slung over his shoulders, seungcheol presses wet kisses across the flushed peaks of your tits, pink tongue peaking out to tease at your puffy nipples before skating across your hot skin. you tangle your fingers in the hairs at the base of his neck, whimpering desperately as he begins to mark his way down your chest and tummy with pretty purple bruises.

in his rush to get you alone seungcheol had left the door wide open, soft light from the living room shining and illuminating your figures. it was something he was often guilty of, and something you normally wouldn’t mind, but jeonghan and joshua sat just feet away on the couch, blissfully unaware of where seungcheol had dragged you off to and for why. you could hear their muffled voices chatting amongst themselves, too low to understand, and a surprisingly delicious thrill runs hot in your belly from the mischievous smirk seungcheol gives you in response to your whining.

“what about the door, honey?” he croons, deep voice dripping with poisonous honey. One of his big calloused hands sears a path down your trembling stomach to the soft swell of your hips, his pouty lips hot and heavy as they make their way down below your navel. his kisses were always overflowing with a tantalizing possessiveness, a sense of worship that overwhelmed you in the best way. you couldn’t control your pathetic keen of pleasure, tugging urgently at his hair as you throw your head back against the pillows— you desperately wanted to keep quiet, but it was impossible with how seungcheol so effortlessly flooded your body with red hot desire.

“cheol,” you cry out again, your rushed whispers squeaky and broken with arousal. “close the door, they’ll hear—!”

“and i what if i want them to?” seungcheol cuts you off, his head finally dipping down to nose at your soaking cunt, ghost the plush of his lips against your swollen clit. “want them to hear how good i give it to you… you’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? other men listening in on you getting fucked?”

seungcheol’s confession shoots through you like a shockwave, leaves your thighs trembling and your chest heaving— you had not an inkling of an idea that your sweet, gentle and protective boyfriend had such a nasty mind, would ever entertain even the thought of other men in witness to your pleasure… but the idea awakens an all-consuming fire in your belly, one that heats up your skin and drenches your core. “cheol—“ you cry out again, breathless and begging, your thoughts too fragmented to utter anything else except his name.

the long thick fingers that had been caressing over your hip slides down to rub sweet circles against your weeping clit, tease down between your folds to collect your dripping slick. “fuck, i knew you were a slut,” seungcheol hisses, dirty words juxtaposing his loving smile. “would you want them to watch, too? want them to watch you get treated like a whore?” he roughly kisses your clit, slips two of his fingers into your throbbing pussy. your walls clench around them instantly, the stretch nowhere near enough for the rising arousal clouding your senses. “my whore. all mine. let’s let them hear you scream for me, honey.”

his tongue meets his fingers fucking into your messy hole, the wet noises clashing with the ringing in your ears; you wail for release, your hand not tangled in seungcheol’s hair grasping at the bedsheets as your boyfriend begins to eat you out in earnest. you distantly hear the floorboards creak, adjacent to footsteps, and a sickeningly large part of you hopes that it’s jeonghan and joshua.

[zae-heeyyy]

Erudition

Summary: Arthur teaches you how to read. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female!reader Word count: 2,790 Tags: smut, high honor Arthur Warnings: 18+ MDNI

a/n: I spent an unnecessary amount of time perfecting this one. Tried my hand at sketching/tracing/cut and pasting pieces of Arthur's original journal to make this one (don't look at it too close lol). Hope you enjoy!

Edit: If you didn’t know, it was common for adults to be illiterate in 1899 due to the lack of widespread public education.

erudition: the quality of having or showing great knowledge or learning; scholarship.

Poor Hosea had tried everything in an effort to teach you how to read: encouraging you with kind words first, then employing tough love tactics when your stubbornness hindered your progress. On one particular day, you had enough of each other. In a rare moment of weakness, he slammed his hand on the table when you refused to try.

"Wanna be an illiterate ninny your whole life, do ya?" A scowl etched deep lines on his face, and you stormed off, not saying a word. A cough riddled him, and he bowed his head in part frustration and part regret for letting himself lose his temper with you. He only wanted the best for you, even if you didn't want it for yourself.

A particular contemplative cowboy had been watching a short distance away, a pattern Hosea had noticed lately. Still coughing, he waved him over.

"Ah, Arthur. I know you're smarter than you look. Maybe you can reach that girl. I've done all I can, I fear." He pressed the book into Arthur's hand in more of a silent demand than a request. Arthur nodded in understanding, sighing, wondering how he'd been demoted from gang enforcer to teacher.

Cursing under your breath, you prayed that Arthur would just walk away, not because you didn't like him, but because you liked him too much. You and the other women got a kick out of watching him do chores around camp, his shirt nowhere to be found. He was damn gorgeous and didn't have a clue. Nobody else had a clue, either, that you wanted him. You wanted him in many ways and cared about what he thought of you.

The hope that he'd refuse Hosea's request or come another time fell short when his figure towered over you, shading you from the high noon sun. You kept your head bowed, refusing to meet his gaze until he tapped the book's hardback cover, bidding for your attention. Your eyes met his sheepishly. Reading him did not come easy either, especially in your interactions. Something about the way he carried himself around you left you feeling unsettled. There was a perpetual tension that he seemed to shed in the company of anyone but you. You didn't quite get it, though, because he always remained gentlemanly despite it all.

"C'mon." A sculpted, outstretched arm reached down to you, and you took it reluctantly, letting him lift you up from your spot. Following close behind, you let him lead you to the outskirts of camp near a boulder and a broken wagon. The cacophony of camp faded away as you joined him on the ground, your backs against the rock. You sat expectantly, concentrating on your fidgeting hands and fighting off the urge to cry.

"You just gotta focus," he said, opening the book to where you last left off and putting it back in your hands. Shaking your head, you tried to blink away hot tears building up behind your eyes.

"Don't want you to think less of me, Arthur. Don't wanna do it." Keeping your voice steady and suppressing the lump in your throat proved increasingly futile.

"Hush and focus." His tone only made the mystery of him hazier. How could he so easily switch between evil debt collector, out for blood, to nothing short of a gentle giant, so comforting and protective? The thought only made your vision cloud up more.

Blinking rapidly, you took a deep breath to calm yourself before reading the words on the page aloud. You could only get through the first sentence before your voice betrayed you, shaking unevenly, accompanied by a saline drop rolling down your face and onto the page.

"Hey..." Arthur clutched your chin and turned it to face him, forcing your eyes to heed his. "You gotta stick at things. I know it's hard, but that ain't no reason to cry about it." A rough thumb wiped away your tears. He scooted closer to you, wrapped one arm around your shoulders, and held the book with the other hand. "Just relax. It's just me and you out here. I ain't gonna think less of you or let anybody else, for that matter. Forget about all that." You held one side of the book with your left hand, and he had the other with his right, " Here, start again, slow now."

Goosebumps prickled your skin as a wave of calm washed over you. Arthur stayed patient while you composed yourself and read through twice, the second time outshining the first. He nudged you with his elbow, flashing a toothy grin. "See? Not so bad," he remarked. With another breath, not as shaky as your other ones, you closed the book and returned it to him, feeling more accomplished than you had in a while.

Now that your attention wasn't being spent so much, the pounding in your ears grew louder, the source of the sound leading to none other than the relentless beating of your heart. The musk of tobacco and leather infiltrated your nose, making you suddenly aware of how close you were to him. He removed this arm from your shoulders, the missing weight of it making you feel unexpectedly empty. Before he could scoot away some more, you turned to kiss his cheek.

"Thank you, Arthur, for helping me. I know I'm not easy to work with." He smiled shyly and dipped his head, avoiding eye contact. A silence fell between you, and you spoke again, dismissing yourself. "I should probably get back to it." You gathered your skirts to stand, and he wrapped his fingers around your wrist before you could walk away. Even though crimson had crept up in his ears and neck, he kept his face impassive as always.

"When Ms. Grimshaw can spare you, come find me, and we'll keep at it."

So you did. You'd meet in the clearing behind the rock on the rare moments of shared free time, continuing the routine, and you were getting better every day. Then, Arthur brought you a mystery book that he'd found or stolen, and it was nothing like a Penny Dreadful, too complex and challenging for you to decode. You felt like you'd taken one step forward and two steps back.

And just like you'd done with Hosea a few days ago, you tried to storm away from Arthur. You didn't get far before his hands were on your hips, dragging you down into his lap. Faces inches apart, his hot breath warmed your face as he spoke, eyes stern.

"You can't just throw a tantrum whenever life gets hard, woman." Huffing in defiance, you opened your mouth to argue, but you closed it promptly, keenly aware of the change in his demeanor. Your eyes were on his, but his were on your lips. He licked his own, face set with resolve. Letting his forehead press against yours, he kissed you. Without a thought, you kissed him back, melting into his arms. Gaze intense, he tore away from you, talking low and firm. "You're gonna sit your pretty self down and do this, alright?"

Your hand went absentmindedly to your lips, drawing them in as you tasted him. Who knew a kiss was all you needed? With a gentle shove, he settled you back on the ground beside him, retrieved the book, and opened it once more.

When you finished, you looked at Arthur, and he was staring back at you with a cocky grin. It was the first time you'd read with no mistakes. You threw yourself back into his arms, climbing into his lap, a knee on either side of him. Holding you firm by the waist, Arthur didn't hesitate to kiss you again this time, letting desire he didn't even know he had guide him to you. He could have you like that for hours, and he did, only easing his grip on you when you heard pans banging, alerting you to dinner.

Arthur had discovered the key to motivating you, and since then, you discovered a newfound love for reading. You eagerly awaited your lessons, knowing the handsome outlaw's lips would be there for you when you finished.

Arthur was happy to help, but it wasn't just about the makeout sessions for him. Of course, he could die a happy man with you on top of him, but he loved how your eyes lit up when you made progress. He loved seeing you feel confident. He loved making you happy.

Though he wouldn't dare complain, he couldn't help the nagging feeling that Hosea had knowingly arranged this? Arthur tried to go unnoticed in his subtle observations of you, attempting to conceal the fact that he was sweet on you and had been for a while.

"Can't con a conman, Arthur," his surrogate father once told him. Maybe that wasn't just about robbing. The gunslinger wanted you so bad after all this time, needed you, and hoped you needed him just as much. He'd made himself free today, waiting patiently for you to finish your chores, keeping himself occupied with minor tasks. Just as you finished, you watched him disappear behind the grass and head to your spot.

You joined him; the book rested in his lap while he smoked a cigarette. You took the cigarette from him, having a drag yourself and giggling at your own mischief. He snatched it back from you, pretending to be annoyed but smiling nonetheless. Taking one more puff, he snuffed it in the grass. Before he could make another move, you took the book from his lap, replacing it with yourself. Your hands went to the nape of his neck, drawing his lips into yours. He kissed you back, entertaining you momentarily, but withdrew with his hands still resting on your backside.

"Read first, then I'll take care of ya', sweetheart." His eyes were half-lidded, and his voice lowered a few octaves, both weighed down with desire. You huffed and unmounted the cowboy, opening the book and reading, anything to feel his touch again. As you finished the last paragraph, your attention shifted to his hand kneading circles into your thigh. Breath thickening, his other hand fell to the hem of your dress, making it ride up as his hand traveled slowly up your leg.

The reading grew choppier now, your attention too consumed by his touch. You stopped reading altogether when his hand snaked over your thigh, and three of his fingers pressed against a warm, damp spot in the center of your bloomers. Flushing, a faint gasp escaped you.

"Gonna need to get these off, darlin'," he huffed into your ear. Wasting no time, you tossed the book aside and lifted your hips to slide the garment down around your ankles. Desire almost overpowered him; he wanted to devour you, to have his fingers and face buried between you, but he had a job to do, and he always finished the job.

Stopping, he moved his hand from your heat to your thigh and reached across you to grab the discarded book. Clearing his throat, he thumped the book, "Another page." Incredulous, you blinked a few times, gawking at him.

"Arthur, how do you expect me to focus when—"

He cut you off with a curt whistle and a stony glance, "Shut it, woman, and read." His grip tightened on your thigh. Those pools of blue and stern tone sent another jolt through you; god, if only he knew what he did to you. Like you were hypnotized, you opened the book, still very aware of your aching womanhood. He kissed your neck, his chest vibrating with amusement.

"Good girl," he murmured in your ear.

You were wrapped around his finger figuratively, and you craved to be literally, too. As you began to read aloud again, his hand smoothed over your thigh and landed right where you wanted it. He glided a finger up and down that sacred site, stopping on your clit and rubbing tiny circles there. Involuntarily, you arched up into his hand, and his name fell off your lips in a moan, your focus tearing away from the printed words at your hands. Then he stopped, taking away that sweet attention you loved so much.

"Shhh...Keep going;" his voice was low and deep, and he kissed down your neck to your shoulder. He moved his hand back when you started again; it was the most fluent you'd ever read. You don't know how you managed. As soon as you finished the last word on the page, you tossed the book and grabbed Arthur by the hairs on the back of his head, tugging him towards you and tasting him. He groaned and let a finger slip inside of you.

You gasped at the invasion, raising your hips off the ground and tilting into him. Pressing his lips to your ear, he kissed it and whispered mischievously, "You tryin' to get us caught?" You could feel him smile against your ear, and you pulled him to you once more, letting his mouth muffle your sounds of ecstasy.

He loved the way you felt, so velvety, slick, and tight. He teased you, pumping you with just one finger, then lightly circling your clit just to stop and caress you all over. You knew, and he knew, that he could bring you to that peak at any moment, but he didn't want it to be over just yet. He'd dreamed what you felt like for so long, how you'd respond to him, and now that it was reality, he wanted to savor every minute.

You were rocking your hips now, trying to feel any semblance of friction, trying desperately to reach the climax that Arthur kept you right on the edge of.

Then he sank two more large digits inside, making you press your head on his shoulder and squeeze your eyes shut. He waited for you to adjust, kissing your ear and talking you through the girthy new additions. His thumb back on your clit caused a shiver to run down you as you relaxed.

"There you go," he mumbled in your ear, and you knew it wouldn't be long then. His thumb never left, keeping a constant speed and pattern as he worked you. Your stomach burned as that sweet, sweet tension built inside of you. Arthur buried his face in your neck, focusing on bringing you bliss. "That's it, sweet girl. Give it to me."

He groaned along with you as your embrace on his fingers tightened, and your body shuddered. He kept his hand there as you came down, relishing in the way your insides squeezed and released him over and over again. His head spun when he removed his fingers from you; you were so wet, all for him. He'd been so focused on you that the bulge in his pants went unnoticed until now.

Meanwhile, you had replaced your bloomers and smoothed out your skirt, trying to reset after the fireworks behind your eyes had exploded. You giggled, seeing Arthur give attention to his own building arousal. You beamed at him, all cheeky and coy.

"I think I hear Ms. Grimashaw looking for me," you teased, standing and dusting your skirt. His face fell bewildered, and you couldn't look at him in fear that your innocent act would falter. "Gonna have to bed me properly if you want more, Mr. Morgan."

With that, you winked at him and walked away, leaving Arthur with just his hand and imagination to satisfy him. You'd decided to join Hosea at a table, taking a piece of discarded newspaper and reading it yourself. He watched, a proud smile growing on his face. It only took Arthur five minutes to calm himself, reappearing from the treeline with eagle eyes that focused only on you.

Crazed, he approached you, placing a heavy hand on the small of your back before removing it hastily, remembering he was out in the open now. Hosea's eyes shifted between you discerningly. He coughed and gestured to the paper in your hand. "Well, Arthur, it seems you're a better teacher than me, after all." Neither of you caught the hint of amusement in his voice. You patted Hosea's shoulder and stood.

"Thanks, old man. I love reading now. In fact, me and Arthur are gonna go to town right now for some more Penny Dreadfuls. We'll bring you another paper, too."

Arthur perked up at this new suggestion and followed after you, practically tripping over himself as you headed towards his hitched horse. Hosea returned to his newspaper, kicking his feet up and chuckling to himself knowingly. His hunch had been right about you two, after all.

[percervall]

it's a bad idea (fuck it, it's fine) — part 2

Summary: your housemates give you an offer you can't refuse. What's the worst that could happen? Pairing: Jenson Button x fem!reader, Fernando Alonso x fem!reader, Sebastian Vettel x fem!reader, Mark Webber x fem!reader Warnings: discussions around consent Word count: 827

Part 2 of the Fuck It series

Pushing the plate away from you, you lean back in the chair as you rest the coffee mug on the knee that’s pulled up to your chest. You’re lucky that Fernando is also more of a coffee person and quickly learnt just how you like yours once you moved in. Sometimes you still wonder how on God’s green earth you ended up being roommates with some of motorsports finest. 

Looking around the table, you can’t help but smile as they tease each other about something that happened during the last race. Jenson laughs at Fernando’s misfortune although he is quick to sympathise seeing as they’re in the same boat with regards to their cars being nowhere near Mercedes or even Sebastian’s Ferrari. For as long as you’ve known him, Jenson has always been easy going. His teasing and generally positive attitude is what led to the two of you becoming friends in the first place. And because of that friendship, you became a lot closer to Fernando as well when he rejoined McLaren. The two of them had an easy partnership, both on and off the track, and whenever you joined a race, Jenson made sure to include you in their conversations. Somehow being friends with both of them also meant you got to know Mark a lot better, and in turn Sebastian as well. The Aussie had retired from the sport well before you met Jenson, but he remained a constant in the paddock with his punditry job for Channel4. And from what you were told, the German driver had mellowed out since his RedBull days. The four of them seem to have such a deep understanding of each other, they work together seamlessly. Apparently even more so than you had expected.

And therein also lies the problem. Because while sharing seems to be somewhat normal for them, it makes you wonder where that leaves you in this arrangement. Would it always be like this morning, where they’re all involved in one way or another? How can you make sure it’s equal? Would they take turns? The thought alone has you swallowing thickly as your mind whirls with fantasies. 

“Are you okay, doll?” Jenson’s voice cuts through your thoughts.

“Yeah, yeah. Just-.. Just thinking,” you reply, taking another sip from your now luke-warm coffee. The men share a look that you decide to ignore as you down what’s left of your coffee.

“I don’t regret this morning,” you say, worried they will misinterpret your hesitancy.

“But?” Sebastian fills in for you.

“But it leaves me with. Questions,” you add, not making eye contact. 

“You can ask us anything, sweetheart,” Mark says gently and Jenson gives your knee a squeeze. Taking a moment to gather your thoughts you look out of the window.

“I guess the biggest question I have is how will this work? If we’re really gonna do this, if I’m gonna-.. Will it always be one on one or-.. Or will everyone be involved?” Something like desire swoops low in your stomach as you voice the latter part of the question and you can feel your cheeks heat up. 

“That is very much up to you, sweetheart,” Mark says, as the other three nod in agreement.

“We should have some sort of system, like to check if you’re okay with whatever will happen,” Sebastian offers, “do you have a safe word already?”

“A safe word? I-.. No, my ex wasn’t one for anything other than missionary and the occasional oral,” you confess, stomach in knots at the implications of maybe having to use a safe word. 

“I use traffic light system, very easy to follow and understand,” Fernando comments. Your imagination runs wild with all the possible scenarios in which Fernando would use this system.

“Hey, it’s just a way to make sure it’s fun and pleasurable for everyone,” Jenson says quietly, picking up on the way your head is going about a mile a minute. You nod, taking a deep breath. The longer you think about it, the more sense it makes. Having this in place will make sure, like Jenson said, that everyone is having a good time. You had just never considered that you are allowed to check in and see whether you’re okay with what’s about to happen. While it never felt like you didn’t have a choice in your previous relationship, consent was not something that was actively discussed; It was just always assumed. And in hindsight you maybe let him get away with blurring more boundaries than you had realised. 

“Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense,” you say, relaxing back into the chair. 

“Like Mark said, whatever we do, it’s up to you,” Sebastian reiterates. You nod in understanding once more, the knot in your stomach untangling slowly. You had trusted them enough to be roommates for the last year and a half without them overstepping a boundary or taking advantage of you. They care, you think, they’re not him. Fernando presses a kiss to your temple as he pours you another cup.

“It’ll be fun, nena,” he says with a wicked glint in his eyes, and the implications have you clenching your thighs together. Something tells you Fernando could very well be right. 

A smaller part to establish the relationship between the five of them a little bit more and to set things up for what's to come 👀

Feel free to let me know what you think (or any ideas you have for this series), your comments, tags, and likes means the world to me 💜

taglist: @2pagenumb @alishamai @anotherblackreader @Barbare2 @blackcat-mors13 @cassielikesreading @champomiel  @dannyramirezwife @darkwaterrose @brklynlewis @the-depressed-fellow @emlynblack @forza55 @heyheyheyggg @hiireadstuff @honkyscats @hrts4scarr @jeffs77 @jaimeleannavanlloman @Leaderofthebadbitchbrigade @lightdragonrayne  @mehrmonga @prttypqrtts @raizelchrysanderoctavius @ruledbyproblematique @scarlett11xo @skatingiswalkingincursive @tallrock35 @thatsadsmallchild @szobosz @vinvantae @whoreforeveryon @woozarts @zagreus

[fastandcarlos]

Ray Of Sunshine : ̗̀➛ Logan Sargeant

summary: even on the darkest of days you're always there to make logan smile again somehow

You knew the moment the door slammed how your evening was going to unfold.

Your eyes didn’t even need to look up as you heard familiar mumblings under someone’s breath, heavy footsteps trudging through the driver’s room, sighs released every so often. There was an uncomfortable silence in the room as Logan entered, his dejected state was something that you had to come to expect supporting him recently, nothing seemed to fall his way and his was becoming a harsher critic of himself with every week that passed. You could only take so much, hating the way the races seemed to beat any positivity out of him.

“I give up,” he despairingly grumbled.

It was the same each week, you sat in your own bubble and gave Logan a moment to let go of his frustrations. Everything he touched was slammed back down, every little problem was blown way out of proportion, and the Williams hoodie that he wore was taken off as quickly as possible. To say that luck wasn’t on Logan’s side was an understatement, you could see for yourself that every little thing that could go wrong was going wrong for him right now. Once his usual steps were complete, you stood up and placed your hand gently against Logan’s shoulder, feeling his body tense up as soon as he felt your touch on him.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

There was a pause between you before Logan reacted, turning his head to glance back at you. There was no emotion on his face, his energy was empty, not even you seemed to be able to bring any enthusiasm back into Logan again.

After a few moments he simply smiled back at you before stepping away, leaving you stood in confusion in the middle of the room. You were used to Logan taking a little while to respond to you after a disappointing race, but even this was extreme by his standards. Most of the time you at least saw a hint of a smile on his face, but Logan had nothing left. His eyes were nowhere near as bright as they usually were, his confident stance had disappeared, replaced by a man who looked as if he couldn’t take the constant bottom place finishes any longer.

“It’s going to get better,” you tried to tell him, keeping your eyes firmly on Logan. “It’s not always going to be this way.”

“I can’t see any way out right now,” he admitted, letting go of yet another sigh. Your heart sunk as you listened to Logan, watching him scuff his feet along the floor before taking a seat, head in his hands.

“You’re a talented driver Logan, your time is going to come soon enough.”

“Yeah? When?!” The sudden rise in Logan’s voice made your body freeze, not expecting to be struck by such a harsh tone. “Every week I get humiliated by my team, my car, they’ve made it so clear they don’t want me anymore, so what’s the point of doing this anymore?”

You were left speechless by Logan’s sudden outburst, running your hands over the top of your head. Part of you wanted to run, but you knew deep down Logan couldn’t stand being left alone with his own thoughts after the race that he’d had. Despite how hard you tried to get him to see the positives, he just couldn’t do it, despite how encouraging you always tried to be with him. You tried your best to get Logan’s feelings, to sympathise with him but you had never been in that car, those dreaded team meetings, never had to hear the remarks that so many experts made about him.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have shouted at you like that.”

A faint whisper came from across the room, capturing your attention. Logan’s soft eyes looked across at you, his hand stretching out, offering for you to take a hold of it. Instantly you could hear how genuine Logan was in his voice, if there was one person who didn’t deserve to have all of this taken out on them, it was definitely you.

“You might not think it, but I’m disappointed too that this is how things are going right now,” you spoke, taking a hold of Logan’s hand.

I would do anything to make this better for you, to give you all of the things that you deserve and make sure you’re acknowledged for the amazing human being that you are.”

“I don’t need anything else when I’m with you.”

His reply captured you, it left you stunned as your wide eyes looked across at him. The smallest of smiles appeared on Logan’s face as he realised how shy you had suddenly become, feeling your heart race as you stumbled over your words, not quite sure what to say.

“Everything else might suck, but that doesn’t matter when I know that I’ve got you,” Logan whispered, pulling you close to him.

“You’re always going to have me, I’m your biggest fan, remember?” You chuckled, nudging gently against Logan’s side. You intertwined your hand in tighter with his, giving it a slight squeeze.

“I don’t think I’d carry on doing this week in week out if it wasn’t for your support,” Logan noted, his sincere eyes sticking on you. Your head shook as you met his gaze once again, you had every confidence that Logan would achieve his dreams, even when he could only doubt himself.

“I’m sorry if I ever make you feel like I don’t appreciate you,” Logan added, “because I really do. It must be frustrating for you too watching me come last every week, I’m sure you’d probably love to be able to see me up on the podium like all of your friends get to do.”

“All of their boyfriends don’t compare to you though,” you grinned, chuckling to yourself.

“Well, I am the most handsome driver in F1,” Logan teased, throwing his free arm across your shoulders, “of course none of those guys compare.”

Your eyes rolled as the familiar character that you had come to know and love started to appear before you again, the deprecating Logan had gone, and the charming one returned.

“I don’t care where you start, finish, or what happens in between, I’m always going to be with you, we’re a team,” you reminded him, leaning your head down so that it rested against Logan’s broad shoulder.

In Logan’s room was where the two of you stayed for most of the evening, shutting yourselves out from the chaos of the paddock. There was noise all around you, but none of that mattered, you had each other, and that was all that counted, especially to Logan anyway. Beyond those four walls he didn’t care what anyone else had to say about him, because he had you, his bright sunshine, even on those cloudiest of days.

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗