#oh well. just four more tasks

[blue-thief]

"how do we decolonize?" i just woke up. all i signed up for was to tell you about important events during wwi and wwii. bro.

[priniya]

𝜗𝜚 𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝜗𝜚

⋆ pairing. oscar piastri x verstappen!reader

⋆ summary. falling in love has never been on your radar, but when the cute, quiet guy finds his place in your heart, you try to cherish the rare, yet beautifully domestic moments. that is, until you hit the four years together mark and realise that your family probably doesn’t know.

GROWING UP YOU WERE CONVINCED BY THE circumstances that being loved must be earned. you had never put any thought into that — it was just the things were, at least that’s how you were brought up. if you did something your parents didn’t like, you were given a cold shoulder and — from time to time — a silent treatment. as a teenager, you came up with a… pretty saddening conclusion that love wasn’t worth it in the end, so you simply avoided any kind of romantic relationships.

to be completely honest, it wasn’t a hard task. all you ever wanted since you entered the awkward phase of your life, when you could make your own decisions, one of which was leaving your household as soon as it was only possible.

you had departed from your home around the age of fourteen, after lots of begging to let you study abroad had taken place. you were the youngest out of the three. your brother was already in formula one, when you were wearing a plaid skirt, a merlot blazer with the school’s logo, a matching necktie and a few more things that made max and victoria call you a posh, british girl. you didn’t mind it, you were glad to be out of the house, slightly distancing yourself from your family overtime.

the day you met oscar took place on the day of your eighteenth birthday. you and some friends had gone out to celebrate not only your birthday, but also your acceptance to the king’s college in london, giving you an opportunity to pursue your dreams of becoming a doctor. you were yet to tell your family about it, having lied to them about the date, wanting to have this moment to yourself.

you went out to a few bars before ending up in a club as the girls secretly wanted you to find a guy to go home with, since the last year and a half you had been constantly overworking yourself to get into your dream university, (“you got the school in the bag, now get some lad to relieve the pressure”).

oscar had been racing in formula renault at the time, but ever since you left the netherlands, racing hadn’t been on your mind for a long time — it probably should, considering your big brother was two points behind kimi räikkönen last season, however you had a feeling as if racing was the reason you were so disconnected from your family. your dad was racing in formula one, your mom was karting, your brother has been racing in formula one as well, and your sister shared the interest, while the love for partaking in the sport never appeared in your heart.

your chest was slightly pressed against the countertop, smiling at the bartender with a drunken look in your eyes, while he was preparing your umpteenth jägerbomb. jesus christ, you really needed that break. the alcohol running through your veins was really hitting you already as your body couldn’t stay still even for a second — your hips swaying to the beat. that was until you looked around the place and your eyes landed on a boy your age. he was wearing a white, printless t-shirt that clung to his body, turning your quick look-around into a staring situation.

if sober, your thoughts would stay where they should — in your mind, however… you were far from being sober. the proper social etiquette you were taught over the years at your boarding school were long forgotten as you shamelessly ogled the boy. he was simply gorgeous, breathtaking some would say.

“gals, i think i just saw an angel sent from heaven just for me.” you announced, your tone causing your friends to chuckle in amusement. you sound like a person who thought they just invented a cure for cancer. “i need to throw myself at him.”

“oh my god.” aliyah, your roommate from school, laughed, throwing her head back. it was hilariously unexpected to hear you say a thing like that — the girls have heard you talk about the boys you had hooked up with before, even intoxicated, but never this. you had never been so… so not-you. “this-this is the funniest thing, like, ever.”

“which one?” inaya scrunched her brows as she looked around, searching for a guy who could fit her imagination of a guy you would call an angel. she groaned in disappointment, once you discreetly pointed in oscar’s direction. “a white guy? seriously, yn?”

“i can’t help it.” you muttered, your shoulders slumping as the alcohol intensified every single emotion you have felt during the night. “i wish he would have my baby. or like a thousand of them.” your sighed, dropping your hand to your stomach, while one of the girls bursted out laughing at the absurdity of your words.

inaya could easily recall the day before your acceptance letter came in and your speech to the group chat about romantic attraction, relationships, kids, and commitment, concluded with confidence (“i’m gonna be that one, successful aunt that hates kids, but not that one niece.”).

“they would look cute together, though.” priya giggled, stealing glances at your boy, as if she wanted to hit on him, too. then, the thought of priya with your boy disappeared from your mind at the image of your best friend and her long-time boyfriend. right, she and james had been together for the longest time. “you should shoot your–” the universe was not having the girl speak, because a guy, seemingly confident, approached your table.

“hey, i hope you’re having a good evening.” he started in a nice tone, the girl beside you — the last of the four, ciara, seemed to melt against your shoulder, looking at the boy with heart eyes. “sorry to bother you, girls. my friend, that one over there, thinks you’re really gorgeous and would love to get your number, but he’s a bit shy.” he joked, having pointed to oscar, turning the second part of his monologue to you.

before any of you could’ve responded to him, a guy — the same one you called an angel — walked up to the six of you, groaning when he realised that his friend already had done what he threatened to do. “jesus, arthur.” the blonde ran a hand over his face, groaning in exasperation.

“i’m so sorry for him.” he let out a small sigh. “i told him not to bother you, but he’s like a toddler.” he tried to explain, earning a few quiet chuckles from all of you.

“ah, there’s nothing to be sorry for.” priya grinned. “you two look like you haven’t had a drop of alcohol yet, maybe wanna join us?”

oscar wanted to refuse, out of courtesy — he didn’t really care about the embarrassment brought upon him by the monegasque, although the look on your face was making his heartbeat quicken. he’d never felt like this before, it was crazy. he just saw you for the first time and his mind was filled to the brim with small ideas to impress you that were supposed to be shoved away as he opened his mouth to politely refuse the invitation. arthur, however, had different plans and sat next to the ginger haired girl, who quickly engulfed him in a conversation.

looking at him so up close was almost a life-altering experience. for the first fifteen minutes you had to remind yourself to breathe, so enamoured with the boy sitting next to you. after that period, you got even more entranced with oscar. once he started his small conversation with you, you couldn’t help but hang onto every single word that left his lips.

you’ve never felt like this before, so interested in what a boy had to say to you. you forgot about the detail that, if it wasn’t a joke, oscar thought you were gorgeous and loved to have your number. the conversation with him was easy, you didn’t have to do anything special to prolong it, neither did he. by the time the watch on your phone was showing three in the morning, james had already picked priya, inaya and aliyah up, leaving you and ciara with the two boys. you went out to a club to have fun, drink, and dance a bit, but it all was thrown into oblivion once piastri started a conversation with you.

YOU COULD EASILY RECALL THE MOMENT YOU realised that life without oscar wasn’t what you’d ever want. it happened after a few weeks of constant texting, late-night calls and a bit less meetings at his/your place. at the tiniest thought of falling in love with him, your stomach started to hurt, because love wasn’t something you believed to have a happy ring to. your parents were divorced and they took it out on you and your siblings, sophie, your mom, wasn’t as bad as your dad, though.

oscar knew about your stance towards love, but took it upon himself to change it — and he suprisingly did. there wasn’t a thing oscar could do wrong to make you disappointed. despite the hectic schedule he had, you always spent at least ten minutes on the phone to just check in, which was the best part of your day most of the time.

medicine at king’s was killing you every day to the point, where once oscar was able to visit you, he had always made you something to eat, drew a bath for the two of you and took a nap with you. he never complained. for as long as he remembered, most of his days were fast paced — there were little to no slower moments in his life, so despite your insecurities that he must’ve hated you for being too exhausted to spend time with him, he liked just feeling your presence next to him.

your friends, despite the constant teasing, couldn’t be happier for you. you often denied yourself stuff that you probably should experience in life, as a result of growing up in a household where love was conditional. they knew that, it wasn’t a rare sight to see you crumble under pressure, before inevitably breaking down in front of them, so seeing you blossoming like that was not only refreshing, but also relieving.

you were starting your fourth year at the university, while oscar was in the middle of his first season of formula one. before the australian, you weren’t a fan, yet you couldn’t help but bawl your eyes out in pride and happiness, when oscar called you to tell you that he had signed with mclaren.

you had already known about the signing, when oscar came to your shared apartment later, so despite an upcoming test, you spent most of your free afternoon baking him a small cake to show him that his dreams are as important to you as they are to him. you definitely weren’t a great baker, but you tried your best and made a small, lemon flavoured cake with a light, orange-ish congratulations, formula one driver on top.

“baby, i’m home.” your boyfriend called out, entering the apartment as he was taking off his shoes, placing them on a shoe stand. you smiled to yourself at the sound of his voice, head turning to look at him. his hair disheveled, a stubble on his chin, and a slight hint of tiredness in his eyes that seemed to disappear once his gaze fell onto you.

“hey.” you replied as oscar approached you, sneaking his arm around your waist and placing a soft kiss on your lips. “i made you something.” you whispered, tilting your chin to have a better view of his face.

“yeah?” he asked, intrigued. “what did you make?”

“i baked a cake.” you nodded, almost as if it was something you did every other day. “because my boyfriend is officially a formula one driver. i’m super proud of you, you know? and it’s mclaren, too!” you added, a beam creeping up on your lips, your hands cupping his cheeks as you pressed lots and lots of light kisses against his entire face.

a chuckle rumbled in his throat at your silly display of affection, pulling you closer with ease. “i still can’t believe it.” he smiled in between the smooches. “i couldn’t have done it without you.” his voice dropped to a whisper laced with sincerity.

“ah, this is simply bullshit.” you responded, scrunching your nose. “you’re a great driver, baby. you would’ve done it anyway.” you matched the quietness of his tone, bringing your hand to run your fingers through his messy blond hair. “everyone knows that, especially zak and andreas.”

“you did help, though.” he muttered, relishing the feeling of your fingers in his hair. “you keep me sane.” his words earned him a quiet giggle from you. you tilted your head to the side, shaking it lightly, pulling him into a kiss.

it started off slowly and gently, now both of oscar’s arms wrapped around your waist, caging you into his loving embrace. before you knew it, his hands were squeezing your sides, sitting you on the kitchen counter, his body pressing against yours as your lips moved in sync. the pent up stress, pressure and exhaustion slowly dissolving, oscar’s stiff shoulders loosening as your fingers tugged on a strand of his hair.

his tongue has moved past your lips, when you heard a sound, making the two of you pull away from each other in reluctance. oscar’s mom often texted him, when you were either making out on the couch or having sex, almost as if she had a hunch about what the two of you were doing. as a result, you came up with a system that whose phone would go off and interrupt you, the person would have to do something in return for the other one. despite the annoyance of being interrupted, you beamed, knowing that it couldn’t be your phone. that was, until you noticed the smirk creeping up on your boyfriend’s face.

“not mine.”

a loud groan rumbled in your throat, unhappy with the result as oscar passed you your phone from the table. you let out a dutch curse word under your breath, noticing the contact’s name on the notification.

max.

you haven’t spoken to your brother since the end of that year’s season, when you called to congratulate him on his second title. making so much distance between you and your family ever since you were fourteen and in a boarding school was hunting you now. no one from your family knew about your relationship with oscar, despite being together since mid-july 2019. you didn’t want to change it, not because you were ashamed of oscar — that, you could never be — but because you were afraid it would ruin everything between the two of you, and deep down inside you, you knew that your heart would shatter into pieces if that ever happened.

oscar understood where you were coming from, he knew how much of an outcast you considered yourself to be as a kid, and how much work you put into getting away from the town you grew up in. he didn’t mind that he didn’t officially met your blood family, he knew that the friends you went to school with were closer to you and at that time of your life mattered more, so he couldn’t complain, knowing that this family accepted and liked him. your mood significantly dropped, oscar’s hand gently squeezing your thigh for some reassurance, nodding silently, a way of saying that you should call your brother back.

some people would say that your boyfriend was the reason behind the poor connection between you and your siblings, but he was actually the one, who often — subconsciously — made you reply to their texts and calls more, or even calling them yourselves to just check in as you often sent gifts to your two nephews and penelope. although you thought that it was too late to repair the relationship with max and victoria, oscar always told you that it’s nonsense (and he was, indeed, right).

“hey, sorry, i was studying. a cardiology exam coming up soon.” you explained as your brother picked up the call, your voice slightly sheepish as you avoided your boyfriend’s look.

“in december?” max asked. “i was calling to ask if you’re coming back for christmas?”

you sighed softly at the question, knowing that your reaction would probably upset your brother, which you didn’t want to happen.

“uh.” you started. “i–i’m not sure, yet.” an incoherent mumble came from the other side of the line, as you started to pick on the skin of your bottom lip. “i think i am, but not for too long. i have an early flight on the twenty seventh.”

you could see the smile rising on oscar’s lips upon your answer, you were conflicted whether or not you should go back. you missed your brother, sister and mom, but coming home always resulted in your sour mood and not-too-great memories from each year as you always ended up fighting with your dad over something insignificant that made you come back to london sooner than planned. this time, you were supposed to lay down the boundaries and try to have a good time, before flying to melbourne to spend some time with the piastris.

“it would mean a lot to all of us to see you.” max replied in a gentle tone, not wanting to accidentally guilt trip you into coming. “we miss spending time with you, yn.”

“i know, i’m sorry.” your voice broke, sadness washing over your body as you ran a hand down your face to stop yourself from getting too upset. it’s your boyfriend’s big day, you shouldn’t be crying over your familial situation, when it was such a happy day for him.

“i miss you all too.” you whispered, piastri’s hand gently moved up and down your thigh in a soothing mood, helping you calm down a bit. despite not understanding a thing you said since the conversation was held in dutch, he could tell that you were getting upset and it worried him. “i’m gonna be there, okay?”

DESPITE YOUR MOM’S QUESTION UPON YOUR relationship status during last year’s christmas, you didn’t drop a clue whether or not you were dating someone. you felt secure in your relationship with oscar, you didn’t want to jinx it. you started therapy just a few months earlier, but the anxiety to get past this awful feeling of revealing your boyfriend to your family was too much to do yet. you definitely wouldn’t do it without him by his side, and not when your father was around.

throughout the months of 2023, your relations with your mom, max, and victoria had improved significantly, which you were grateful for. by may, victoria’s oldest son, luka, considered you to be his favorite auntie and you really, really liked that feeling.

oscar noticed that you started to come out of your protective shell and he couldn’t be prouder of you. it was around summer break, when you decided that this year, you’d break it down to your family, no more avoiding the conversation you dreaded, but before — you would spend the summer break with your boyfriend in melbourne.

oscar, as usually on his days off, was still fast asleep, when you tried to get out of his grip in the morning. his arm had almost caged you to his side, but somehow — after fifteen minutes of trying to come up with an idea to get away without waking him up, you succeeded.

nicole was already seated at the couch with two steaming cups of coffee in front of her, almost as if she was waiting for you, which you knew she was. it was slowly becoming a little tradition you had with your boyfriend’s mom, you two would sit on the couch in their living room, casually chatting about something, while a movie played on the television in the background to your chatter.

“oscar’s still asleep, love?” she asked in a soft, yet chirpy tone as she noticed you walking down the stairs. your hair was still a bit messy, but nevertheless you looked gorgeous.

“yeah.” a chuckle escaped your lips as you took a seat next to her, taking the mug into your hands. “we stayed up watching a movie last night, apparently i had missed out on the magnificence of david fincher’s filmography.” nicole giggled, shaking her head.

“ah, yes. we’ve been through that, too.” she smiled, taking a sip of her coffee. “so, i’ve heard from hattie that you’re planning on going to suzuka with oscar. that’s, hm… how did she call it? a hard launch, right?” you smiled softly, nodding your head at her question.

throughout your entire relationship with the oldest piastri’s kid, you have been to few races, most of them being his formula renault and three ones, when the schedule didn’t overlap with any of your exams. during his first season in formula one, you were only at silverstone, but as a guest of max, making your first appearance in paddock since you were a baby. this time, you’d be there not as max verstappen’s younger sister, dressed in a red-bull jacket with your brother’s number on the back, but as oscar piastri’s girlfriend.

“that’s true, i’m really excited.” nicole’s warm smile upon hearing your response made you feel even more sure that you were making a good decision. “it’s gonna be my last year at king’s, and i really hope i’ll be able to come to more races to support him. i don’t want oscar to feel like i don’t care about his dreams or achievements.”

“i’m sure he doesn’t feel like that, love.” she reassured, reaching out to squeeze your hand with a slight nod. “you still haven’t told your family, have you?” nicole asked, her head tilted to the side in curiosity and empathy.

she was aware of your bumpy relationship with your family, so it wasn’t a surprise she’d asked that. you feared that oscar’s relatives would think you didn’t take him seriously, and even if they did, they never showed it.

“i want to.” you spoke quietly, having taken a sip of the drink in your hands. “it’s been going on for too long and i’m fully aware of that. i can’t see myself without your son, he’s… he’s probably the, uh, the best thing that ever happened to me.” the genuineness of your words was painfully evident. “i just want them to see that, i wouldn’t be the person i am without him. i’m also just… a bit scared of their reaction. i don’t want to hurt them.”

“i’m gonna be frank with you, love. i think they will be slightly hurt that you haven’t told them about oscar earlier.” nicole started, giving you a look full of compassion. “but you did say that they weren’t insisting on staying in touch with you as much as they do now, your relationship hasn’t been as good as it is right now, so after the initial shock, i think they’re gonna understand why you haven’t told them earlier.”

“thank you for saying that, nicole.” you replied softly, smiling at her with gratitude. “it gives me a bit of hope that things won’t go so bad.”

oscar got down an hour or so later, looking like he had just woken up, what was probably the truth. you’ve had a hunch that he would’ve woken soon, so you started preparing something for him to eat before he had to head out for his usual jog (which he skipped yesterday). his arms sneaked around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest, while nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

you giggled at the sensation of his light stubble against your skin, when he pressed a few lazy kisses along your neck. “g’morning, baby.” he muttered, his voice still having that rought, just-woken-up ring to it. his slightly cold hands moved beneath your shirt, gently caressing your stomach, causing you to shiver at the contact. “what d’you gossip about with mom today?” he asked, continuing with his antics.

“ah, just stuff, love.” you replied, nicole’s petnames rubbing off on you. “edie with a friend will stay at ours before the summer break ends.” you mentioned his younger sister’s plan to come see london and all you got in a response was a soft hum.

“cool, cool.” oscar mumbled a few seconds later, teeth grazing the sensitive spot on your neck, making you bit back a moan. the corners of his mouth turned into a smirk at your reaction.

“ah, fuck off, lad.” a giggle escaped your lips as you turned to face him, having finished preparing some scrambled eggs for the two of you. “go eat, i promised max i’d call him.” after oscar stole a sweet and slow kiss from you, he sat down at the table, shamelessly watching you as you called your brother.

he knew that the situation was better, but he wanted to notice the tiny changes in your expression to comfort you within seconds. he probably wouldn’t understand too much of what you’d say, but before the season started, he’s began thinking about putting a ring on your finger one day, and proposing in dutch sounded like a good idea, so… he started learning on his own, just to be able to surprise you, but also show your family that he cared about the possible language barrier.

“hey, penelope.” you smiled as the four years old girl greeted you after picking up max’s phone. “could you please give me max?” from what you’ve known, max and kelly went to see her family in brazil, so hearing that p wasn’t asleep, wasn’t a surprise.

you could’ve heared ruffling on the other side of the call, before your brother’s voice rang in your ears. “sorry, i was outside.” he apologised. “p said you wanted to talk, everything alright?”

“yeah, everything’s alright.” you smiled at the hint of concern in his voice. “just wanted to ask when you’re flying back to monaco.” you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“ah, around next week, i think. not sure though, why?”

“just… uh,” you looked over at oscar and smiled to yourself. “i just wanted you to meet someone. think you could make a quick stop in london before monaco?”

you could’ve heard max stiffle a small gasp and it made you want to laugh. they thought you’d never find someone, didn’t they? after looking at your nails, you turned your gaze to oscar, whose eyes were still watching you carefully. it was so endearing to see your boyfriend like that, so protective over you. you knew you made a good choice of not pushing him away, oscar must be your soulmate, there’s no other way. you sent him a small wink as you awaited max’s reply.

“someone?” he repeated the word. “as in friend? a boyfriend? god, i never thought i’d live to that day. he’s not fifty or something, right?” this time, you couldn’t hold back the laugh. piastri smiled at the reaction, actually relieved that you weren’t getting upset. he’s never seen you talk to jos, but he knew if that happened on his watch, the entire evening, day or week would be spend on comforting the shit out of you.

“what? no, jesus, you’re quite ridiculous.” you shook your head, a smile still present on your lips. “he’s my age, you idiot.” you rolled your eyes playfully, despite max couldn’t see you.

“but he’s good for you?” max asked for reassurance that you weren’t getting into a relationship, which would end up hurting you more than anything else. “he doesn’t hurt you, or anything? and you’re sure he’s your age? that doesn’t go well with your daddy issues.”

“i’m gonna pretend like i didn’t hear that last bit.” you joked, sitting down at the table next to oscar, taking his hand in his, intertwining your fingers together. “he’s super good for me. wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

the reasoning behind telling max before the summer break would end was simple, you didn’t want the information to mess with his performance, but also so he wouldn’t try and run your boyfriend off the track, or crash into him in a rush of emotions.

“alright, tell him to better treat my sister right or i’ll run him over with my car.”

OSCAR WAS TRYING TO CALM YOU DOWN AS YOU paced around your shared apartment, a few days after the conversation you had with your brother. your brother, who was on his way from the heathrow airport to your home.

“baby, it’s gon’ be alright.” he whispered, leaning close to your ear as he cupped your face in his hands, having brushing his nose against yours a few times affectionately. “max won’t sacrifice his relationship with you, solely because you haven’t told him about us. he’s gonna have to understand, alright? don’t stress out.” his thumb moved against the skin of your cheeks, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“you think so?” you asked, meeting his gaze as a small pout appeared on your lips.

“i know so, baby.” he soothed, trying to put your mind at ease, remembering how much hassle the situation had put on your shoulders, having heard you empty your stomach in the morning, when your phone went off once max had texted you that they have just arrived in london.

fourty minutes later, oscar was calling the security guard to let max, kelly, and penelope inside the building. the australian went back to the living room as you had planned beforehand, when you agreed on inviting them to your apartment.

“auntie yn!” penelope smiled, throwing herself at you. you swiftly picked her up, masking the shakiness of your hands. “maxie said you have a boyfrieeeend.” she singsonged with a beam on her face. you could swear to god that in that moment you’d heard the faint sound of oscar’s laughter.

“max.” you gave your brother a look, while he just shrugged unbashedly. “what? it’s true isn’t it? where is that brit of yours?”

“he’s not british.” this time, max gave you a look that said he was confused, while you just shrugged, waving your hand at the three of them, before leading them to the living room. penelope noticed oscar first and murmured to you that he looked really pretty, a warm sensation spreading in your stomach, when the pretty boy smiled at you. the oldest verstappen might get angry or feel hurt, but at the end of the day, no one could do anything to break the two of you apart. you’d chain yourself to the aussie if it was necessary.

“wha— oscar?” max’s mouth fell agape as he took in the sight of your boyfriend, who gave him a tiny, sheepish smile. “hold on a second, what?” he repeated, puting a strong emphasis on the last word.

you weren’t sure if it was inappropriate for you to scoot a bit closer to your boyfriend, leaning against his side as your older brother tried to stomach the fact that the reason behind your often trips to australia was his on-track rival.

“but you were with kelly at the silverstone, not leaving her side at all?” his confusion was messing with your anxiety and you had to do your best to stiffle the laugh bubbling up in your throat.

“yeah, um… we didn’t met at silverstone.” it was oscar’s time to speak up as the bits of contact between you made him more relaxed. “we… have been already dating back then.” piastri explained calmly, his arm going around your shoulders to bring you even closer.

“so that’s why you cried!” kelly smiled at you as your cheeks flushed bright red.

silverstone was oscar’s best finish in formula one so far and seeing him end up almost on podium had melted your heart as you broke down in the red-bull garage. when kelly asked you what made you so emotional, you slipped a small lie, saying that it was because max earned another grand slam.

“you cried?” oscar asked quietly, his heart swelled with love.

“she had a full on mental breakdown.” piquet joked, your cheeks had turned its color from bright red to crimson. it was nothing to be embarrassed about, you loved your boyfriend with all your heart, you couldn’t help but be proud of him for almost every day since you got together. although, he wasn’t supposed to know about your little breakdown.

“i didn’t know about that.” oscar teased you a little, gently pinching your side.

“wait, because i still don’t understand. you were already dating at silverstone, when did you-did you start, then?” the red bull, who — rightfully — couldn’t wrap his head around the possibility that what you were doing right now, wasn’t a silly prank or tiktok of some sort, and you and oscar were actually together.

you opened your mouth to tell him the range of your anniversary, when oscar, like he was aked about it every other day, responded with; “eleventh of july, 2019.”

“fucking four years?” max asked, his eyes widening at the revelation. “four years and you didn’t tell?”

“i was scared that telling one of you would lead to telling dad, and i didn’t want him to say something that would ruin what we have.” your voice dropped insignificantly, oscar���s arm around your body tightening in compassion. “he’s been my rock, i didn’t want to risk losing oscar.”

your brother’s face softened upon hearing the explanation and just smiled. “i’m not taking what i said back. you better treat her right, or i’ll run you over with my car — on or off track.”

ᝰ.ᐟ꩜ yourname . . . at melbourne! dec 28th, 2026

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, inaya66 and 67 218 others.

yourname met this muppet in a bar after years of not believing in love (definitely not at the first sight), overworking myself and worrying all my friends that if i get into my dream university, i’ll have no energy to push forward. took me one glimpse of him (and a jägerbomb) to realise that i need to walk up and talk to him. big thanks to arthur_leclerc for walking up to us and trying to embarrass him.

no one could ever make me as happy as you. not enough words, papers and ink to describe even the quarter of love i have for you, two times world champion. seven years and more to come. thank you for showing me that love can be unconditional and that with you next to me, everything is possible.

(ps. a small sneak peak of one significant bean with us to come through life together xx)

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oscarpiastri happiest seven years of my life. nothing compares to the feeling when i’m with you xx

yourname stop cutting the onions (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

inaya66 couldn’t be happier for the two of you ☹️

ciarrrra thats a lot coming from u considering u didnt like oscar

aliyahbilal i wanna be you when i grow up

arthur_leclerc safe to say i’m gonna be the best man?? 😝

oscarpiastri don’t push it

arthur_leclerc i made you two possible

ciarrrra baby… she was on her way to him when u walked up to us…

oscarpiastri so WE kind of made u 2 possible :p

maxverstappen1 stop posting sappy stuff, and get here already bean misses her favorite uncle xx

landonorris yeah n you’re not the one

charles_leclerc boys… i have a dog u really think u stand a chance

yourname that’s really sweet that u think u ever stood a chance with alex, jack, and james…

maxverstappen1 over her own blood??

yourname stop shaming my daughter for her choices old guy

sebastianvettel lots of love and happiness to your little family

ciarrrra sign me up for babysitter duty pleaseeee i miss my beanie ☹️

aliyahbilal nooo me me me need to catch up on those nursery gossips with my bestie!!!

victoriaverstappen can’t wait to see you guys 🫶🫶 hailey misses her bestie

mclaren we are always told things last ☹️☹️☹️

yourname you know it’s not true admin why do you lie 🙁🙁

hattiepiastri best soon to be sil 🥳🥳🥳

yourname whats with you piastris and making me cry today!!!

nicolepiastri love you both lots xx

jackdoohan i’m the favorite?? need to come over with gifts asap🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

fin.

author’s notes! super hyped to post this fic 🥹 it’s honestly my baby that i’ve been working on and thinking about it 24/7 (even when i was supposed to be studying LMAO) huge shoutout to my whatsapp girlies esp catalina and sonny!!!! this is kinda not proofread so if u saw any mistakes (which definitely were there) pretend like u didnt 😝😝 part two with domestic dad!oscar and uncle!grid?? lemme know whatchu think <3 requests r open btw!!

[thesacrificialdove]

𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 2.3k words obsessive naga x f!reader — ko-fi | patreon | masterlist | inbox | taglist | home | req. & comms

tags two cocks, hypnosis, kidnapping, dub-con, praise kink, light sub naga, oviposition, breeding kink, aftermath of mind control, altered memories

—📜" Making your way back to the campsite, a kind stranger guides you back to where you're needed. With him

Recounting your steps would be futile. It’s best for you to leave fate like this.

It got dark too quickly and you still haven’t traversed your way back to the camp. A short trip to your van for some extra supplies became a longer task than you anticipated it to. You can barely see the sun anymore. The trees start to look the same. Your lamp feels like it’s about to go out any second now. 

The camping materials hold you back severely. Your shoulder aches and the cooler in both of your hands are heavy. Watching the sunset, you drop the cooler below a landmark tree. Four scratches. You don’t exactly know what caused those scratches, but whoever did it, they marked your path back to your friends.

With a sigh, you bend over to carry the cooler again—

“You need help with that?”

The cooler drops to your feet, making you scream out. The person, who materialised out of nowhere, comes up to you. “Sorry, are you okay? I didn’t mean to startle you.”

The man looks concerned. His eyebrows furrow as he stares at you. It’s alright. It’s just… someone.

“Oh,” you say, wincing as you hold yourself up against a tree. “I’m alright, I guess. Are you, uh, camping here too?”

He smiles. His teeth are white and he has little fangs like your little sister. It’s cute. “Yeah, just by the lakeside,” he says.

You haven’t seen another tent on the lake. You’d know since you and your friends are stationed there. Maybe he’s more camouflaged. “Oh, uh, actually, me and my friends are there too. If it’s not too much of a bother…—”

“You want me to take you there?” he says, practically reading your mind. “Yeah. It’s getting dangerous out at night.” He approaches you, looking around the forest with cautious eyes. “Let me lead the way, yeah? Just follow me and you won’t get lost.”

You nod. He doesn’t look away from you and you don’t either. When he turns to the path, you follow his figure closely. You feel lighter now. The equipment doesn’t seem so heavy anymore… Did you forget something?

He asks you, “You guys staying for long?”

“Ah, well, for a bit. We leave tomorrow morning.”

“Really?” he laughs. “I’ve already been here a while and I never wanna leave,” he jokes. You think that to be true. He turns to look back at you, seeing as you struggle behind him. He reaches out, “Let me get that for you so that you won’t worry about carrying anything.”

You nod. Your backpack, your lamp, all of it goes to him. He smiles as you catch up to him.

You think you’re reaching the lake right about now. You remember seeing another landmark earlier. You think you were supposed to take a turn—but he hasn’t, right? He knows where to go. He knows what to do. You should trust him. You should trust him.

The night looks darker. Did the lamp run out?

He’s not holding anything. He’s not looking at you anymore.

“Hey,” you call out, looking around, “Are we…?”

“Yeah, we’re almost there,” he assures. “Come on. Hurry now. I can hear your friends from here.”

You don’t hear them. The wind threatens the both of you for a moment, the breeze coming along with it. He takes your hand to guide you forward. You think you hear them now.

There’s something in the distance. It looks like a cave. “Ri-i-ight over there,” he drags out, hands in his pockets as you both stand outside of it. “Your friends are calling for you there.”

It’s too dark to see them. It must be later in the night now. You can hear their voices. They’re calling for you. They’re calling your name. You can hear them so vividly. Get in the cave.

Get in the cave.

Get in the cave.

Listen to me.

Get in the cave.

Darkness envelops you with each step forward. They’re closer now. The footsteps behind you feel distant. Yet, you feel the warmth of a body pressed against you. You can feel the air against your neck, like soft whispers and heavy breathing.

You call out one of your friend’s names. It echoes in the cave.

“They’re here, sweetheart,” someone whispers behind you. He's the kind man. “It’s getting late. You need to change into sleepwear, hm? Take your bottoms off for me.”

There’s nothing you can see in the dark. You feel around for your pants as you start to unbutton them. Another pair of hands come to hold yours, guiding you where to pull and where to unzip. It helps you take them off.

“You look very nice,” you’re lowered to the ground, “sweetheart, you look very nice. Can you lay on your front for me?”

The kind man allows you to the cold floor. You feel nice. Just a bit sleepy. He keeps you up with his hands going up and down your body. “Wish you could see yourself,” he says, pushing your top up—revealing your chest—” you look beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”

You can hear something in the background. It sounds almost terrifying. Like the sounds of rubber stretching, the peeling of the skin, and small little grunts that echo throughout. Still, you’re soothed by the kind man who shushes you calmly.

“It’s alright, I just wanna…” he trails off, shifting you around so you’re laying on—something. It’s smooth yet hard beneath you. It’s cold, too cold. “...sweetheart?”

Has he been calling your name the entire time? You can’t really speak. You try to open your mouth but it’s too heavy. You’re lightheaded.

“It’s okay, just wanted to make sure you’re still here,” he says, “I wanna ask you something, just nod or shake your head, yeah?”

You nod.

“Do you like your friends?”

You nod.

“Do you truly want to see them again?”

You nod.

“Then can you help me out? Just for a moment, just for a little while.”

…You nod.

His chuckle is all you hear before he pulls you up. You can hear something dragging behind him. Once you’re pressed against the wall, you continue to hear it as something slides against you. You can’t move. You can’t feel your arms. 

The panic settles in and he’s trying so hard to keep you calm. He whispers unintelligible things to you as something goes tighter, almost making you unable to breathe. It’s tight against your stomach and your shoulders. You can still feel your legs but you can’t move them. You won’t. You won’t move them.

“Stay still,” he says. “Just help me since I helped you, okay? Just one small thing.

“I need to mate with you,” the coils around you tighten, “I need to use you for a while and I promise I’ll return you to your friends. Just make me good for a bit, okay? You got that, sweetheart?”

You let out a little noise. He doesn’t say more as you feel air caress your now bare cunt. It surprises you. “I’ll try to prepare you.”

Something prods against your hole. It’s dry but you feel that you’ve already started leaking. He moans, “Already feeling good? I’m so glad. You’re gonna enjoy this, I promise.”

It pushes inside of you. Your breath gets choked out of you as you feel it massaging deep inside of you. Your legs shake as you struggle with it constantly rubbing against your G-spot. It’s playing it so easily that you can’t help but moan.

“Doing so good for me,” he says, his voice suddenly on your neck as the coils around you loosen. “Gonna put another in.”

He’s true to his word. Another thing goes inside your pussy and now you’re being scissored open. Your legs quiver hard. “So fucking wet,” he moans, “I wanna put my cocks inside of you. I wanna keep you with my eggs stuck inside. Fu-u-u-uck..!”

You cry out as the things inside of you fuck you. It thrusts relentlessly and makes you accustomed to the feeling of being stretched wide. It’s driving you crazy how it reaches so deep inside of you like an actual cock.

“I’m sorry,” he says suddenly, the thing inside of you pulling away. “I’m so sorry. I need to fuck you. I’m about to fucking burst and it hurts!”

You’re pulled up a little before something wet touches you. You moan, the slickness of it cold and almost uncomfortable. He whines in your ears as it rubs between your folds desperately.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna fuck you with my cock, okay?” he says, something—his cock spreading slickness all over your cunt. “I’ll be gentle later. But you’re so good for me, so pliant, so fucking delicious—!”

He gets cut off by both of your moans. You scream out as you feel his cock stretch you. His fingers aren’t enough as you feel him split you open. The heat inside of you is warming you from the inside out, threatening to burn you alive.

“O-oh,” he moans, the coils tightening you, “that’s only one cock. I can’t wait to feel your ass on my other one.”

You don’t get to process his words as the coils around you guide you up and down on his cock. You’re stuck moaning without a name. His cock feels like your entire first, punching you in and out without mercy as he chases his orgasm.

In front of you, he’s panting. He’s going mad with the feeling of being inside of you. Every part of him feels like it's losing as you clench around him, unaccustomed to his size.

“So… tight~!” he moans, thrusting his hips along, “so fucking good. I wanna feel you take all of me. I wanna see you carrying my eggs so much. I wanna fill you up please..!”

He’s mumbling incoherent things as something slaps you from your behind. It feels like his other cock. You don’t panic. Instead, you feel tenfold the arousal as it pokes you at your dry rear.

It doesn’t push in. You know he’s disappointed with the way he’s crying out as he fucks your pussy harder.

“...so much. Wanna fill you up so much,” he moans, a sound coming from the back of his throat like a hiss. “I need to train you on my cock and make you never wanna leave. You’ll never need anyone else but me! Only—only me!

“Fuck, you feel so good, sweetheart.” His hips don’t stutter as you’re being suffocated again. You’re dizzy. You can feel yourself losing air in your brain as your cunt gets railed over and over again. The buds inside of you are getting rubbed to their most sensitive degree as you can feel him in your stomach. It’s jarring. It’s terrifying.

It’s so fucking good.

You wanna stay here forever.

You wanna be trained on his cock

You never wanna leave.

You never need anything but him

Only him.

A cry escapes your throat as you squirt all over his cock. Your spams doesn’t make him stop. “Oh, fuck, you’re so cute!” he says, “you’re shaking. You’re—you’re so tight around me. I’m gonna make you a momma. You’ll never be able to let go of me after this, sweetie. You’re going to want me forever.”

Least expecting it, his cocks stretch you further. You let out a meek noise as it struggles to push something in. “N…no more,” you sob, your walls pushing against it as it tries to make itself home.

“It’s okay,” he hushes. You can feel his arms around you as the coils loosen. “Take a deep breath for me. You’re doing so good.” It pushes in more. “Be a good girl. Be a good momma, okay? Come on, take it!”

He thrusts into you one last time and you scream as something gets pushed inside. You pant, feeling something heavy stretch you inside. It feels like you’re throbbing inside. It feels like a heartbeat

“That’s so good, you’re so good. Such a good girl.”

For the first time, he kisses you. The first thing you feel is his tongue pushing against your lips. It fucks your mouth open as you feel it slither. It’s long and thicker than at least three of your fingers.

You gag. You can feel it against the back of your throat and you struggle to take it in. He tasted sweet. Is it supposed to taste this sweet?

He moans on top of you as he rubs his cock inside of you, pushing the thing inside of you a little deeper. He pulls out of the kiss and you’re left with a drool connecting the both of you. “Mmm, sweetheart, you taste so good. Do I taste good?”

He does. You nod lazily as your head falls into his shoulders. He laughs as he strokes your back. “It’s okay. I’m satisfied for now. I’m sorry I rushed, okay? When you come back next time, I’ll be more gentle. I’ll even make a nest for you and our child.”

Before your brain can catch up, you’re falling into the sweet comfort of his arms.

When you wake up, your friend ushers you awake.

“Get the fuck up, sleepyhead!” she yells. “You’ve been asleep for hours, we need to go soon!”

You groan, unwilling to wake up. Your body feels so sore. The sleeping bag wasn’t the best for camping, you’d guess. What a waste of purchase.

Outside, the birds are chirping and the sounds of the river are soothing. You’re gonna miss this place, not gonna lie. It’s like something would die in you if you were to leave. Then again, you’re very dramatic.

Your name is called. “Hey! Help me bring this stupid ass cooler! Jacob’s already carrying the other one.”

You put it up against your arms. Huh. You feel like you got a moment of déjà vu. It’s probably nothing. You shake your head, trying to get rid of the morning fog in your head.

Fuck. You think you need to check in at a hospital. You can barely walk and your stomach feels heavy. Maybe get someone to check in on you—...

No.

You can’t do that.

You can’t let anyone touch you down there.

Just need to return to the lake after a month and you’ll be good as new.

do not redistrubute this work as yours/without permission or feed to AI 📷 art by @ go_h_og

[gloomwitchwrites]

secret baby trope with tf141? 😌😌

Anon! OH. MY. GOOOOOD. I love this. I love this. I love this. Secret baby? Yes, please. I adore this trope. I bow down to you for requesting this. I don't know who you are but I wish that I did. I can absolutely get behind a secret baby trope. I actually read a book recently that was a bit like that and I enjoyed it so so much.

I had an absolute blast putting this one together. Seriously. You totally indulged me here. Thank you!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, stalking, possessive behavior, second chances, pregnancy / unplanned pregnancy, parenthood, reunions, light angst

Word Count: 2.3k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle relaxes further into the couch. The air around him is slightly smoky.

He brings his vape to his lips and takes a hit. The action is calming, and that’s exactly what he wants. Kyle is rotting, and it feels fucking good.

Between missions, Kyle is always somewhere, but right not there is no reason for him to do anything. He can relax. He can watch reality television, eat himself to sickness, and wank off until his wrist hurts.

It’s bloody fucking brilliant.

Kyle isn’t attached. He has no kids. The only responsibility required of him is the one he has to himself. Which is why he’s splayed out on the couch in nothing but grey sweatpants and his vape. The television is on, and the volume is low. It’s mostly for background noise. Kyle isn’t really paying attention to it.

With a vape in one hand and his phone in the other, Kyle scrolls through his contacts. There are all the usual people there, but there are also a slew of general acquaintances and a long list of people he’s had it off with but never took anything further.

He pauses at one name, and old memories resurface.

They just happen upon him. Kyle doesn’t drag them up from the depths. They linger there, and Kyle remembers all the fun he had with you.

You were just a small fling. A few lengthy but deliciously good fucks that tops most of the sex he’s ever had in his life. There have been times since he last saw you—over a year now—that Kyle has thought about what could have been.

You were sweet. A potential partner. But Kyle didn’t follow through. He would regret it, but things can’t be taken back. There is no turning back the clock to change what has already occurred.

Kyle’s thumb hovers above the screen.

He shouldn’t. He really fucking shouldn’t.

But he does. Because why not?

Switching over apps, Kyle starts scrolling social media. He doesn’t usually give a shit about what’s happening in people’s lives, but he is curious about you. What are you up to? What are you doing? If you’re not attached, maybe he could call you up, rekindle what was once there.

You don’t have him blocked on anything—thank fuck—and Kyle delves into your socials, exploring your life. At first, the small infant in your arms is nothing to him, but then the tiny human keeps reappearing, and Kyle pauses.

Kyle scrolls a bit more. And stops.

Just three—no—four months ago, there are a slew of friends and family congratulating you on the birth of your son.

Your…son.

Kyle thinks back. Does the math in his head.

“Fuck,” he mutters, sitting up, gaze glued on the screen.

He scrolls back, studying every photo where your son is featured. Kyle’s heart slams in his chest. The features Kyle sees are features he sees every time he looks in the mirror.

“Fucking hell,” groans Kyle, the phone nearly slipping from his hands as he slumps back against the couch.

Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you contact him?

The very thought of you not reaching out doesn’t sit well with him. It sits heavy in his stomach.

“Fuck,” says Kyle, switching over to his contacts.

He finds Simon’s number and taps the call button.

It rings on the other end, and Kyle doesn’t think that he’ll answer. But he does.

“Kyle,” comes Simon’s gruff voice.

Kyle sighs. “I need you to track someone down for me.”

John Price

John doesn’t like cutting off contact with people.

He likes to keep in touch, even if it’s just an acquaintance. But things happen, like a fucked phone with no way to retrieve contacts, and the only people he’s able to retrieve are those he sees on a regular basis.

Your number is gone. And John has no way to get it back.

Legally that is. He could try and find you in the system. What information he has is minimal, but then again, the two of you only had a one-night stand. He’s prone to it since he’s never in one place. Always moving around.

John would like to settle down one day, but his work is his life, and it just doesn’t seem possible to have a family and be consistent with them when he’s constantly called away.

He chews it over while sitting in his office. It’s late, and there isn’t anyone else here but him. Late nights like this are calming to him—a time to process away from the events of the day. John has your first name, where you might live, and a general idea of what your number is. But he isn’t certain, and it’s hardly enough to go on.

Sighing, deciding he’d rather find you than not, John turns on his computer. It takes a while to get the classified systems he has access to. No one tracks what he does on here, and no one will think twice if they do happen to look. John runs lots of names and faces through this system.

John waits. Ponders. Enters in different spellings and every possible clue to try and seek you out. With every new search, John begins to lose hope. He might be completely fucked. Completely at a loss.

If this doesn’t work, he might not ever see you again. And for some goddamn reason, that bothers him.

He tries one last time, expecting nothing, only for his heart to drop into his stomach,

“There you are,” he murmurs, leaning forward, gaze sweeping over your passport photo.

Grabbing a piece of paper, John jots down your phone number and current address. He also notes your top place of employment. You might not be there anymore, but that isn’t an issue. He has enough.

John shuts off his computer and grabs his coat. He’ll try to reach out first by phone and go from there.

“You have the wrong number, bud.”

The man’s southern drawl irks John. “You sure?”

“Yeah I’m fucking sure. Quit calling.”

John frowns as the line goes dead. The number on file isn’t recent.

“Fuck,” mutters John, running his hand through his hair.

This is getting him nowhere. The only other option is showing up at your home or place of employment, but he can’t do that unless he’s on scheduled leave. That’s months away.

And each month is fucking agony.

When John finally makes it to your front door, nervousness sets in. This is completely fucking weird. Who the fuck shows up at someone’s door months after a one-night stand? Him apparently.

But fuck it. He’s here.

Either he does this and things go great, or things go to shit and he doesn’t need to worry about it anymore.

John takes a deep breath, and then pounds on the door. He takes a step back, hands in his pockets as he waits. There is a stretch of silence, and then he hears it—the turn of a deadbolt.

The door swings open, and there you are, just as beautiful from when he first saw you. At first, your brow scrunches in confusion, and then your eyes widen.

“John,” you breathe.

He smiles, and then his gaze drops as your hand moves away from the doorknob to land on your stomach. Your belly is round. Protruding. You’re—oh shit.

“Is that—”

“Yours?”

Fuck.

John glances up into your eyes and swallows.

You shift on your feet, one hand resting against the doorframe.

“It is,” you confirm.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon shouldn’t. Really—it’s fucked up. Wrong.

But he does it anyway because there is no fucking way he’s letting you go even if he has to watch from afar.

He’s done a lot of things he isn’t proud of, and losing you is near the top of the list. Not that he blames you for breaking it off. You had every right. Simon is always gone. Always away. And he rarely thought of you when he came home.

Communication can be a difficult thing for him. He knows this, and yet he couldn’t make an effort to do better with you. It wounds him. It does. Like a sharp blade to the gut.

But that is secondary now. Simon has dismissed it.

Sure, you’re not truly his now, but you’ll come back to him. He’ll make sure of it.

In the dark, Simon watches. Before him is a slew of screens and all of them show different angles of your home. Simon also has your phone tapped, and in another window, he can lurk through your messages and emails.

It’s where he first learned you were pregnant.

You know, and haven’t told him. Haven’t reached out in the slightest. Simon has to see all the results and tests come back via your email. He has to log into your medical portal to access specific things which is goddamn frustrating but he needs to know.

You are fucking pregnant. With his child.

It’s growing in your belly.

Even through the camera feed, Simon can see the swell of your stomach. He wants to be there, to stand beside you, and rest his hand against it. He wants to feel his son kick. Because you are carrying his son in your belly. Simon saw the results.

It’s fucking painful watching you like this.

He’s stayed away for a bit. Not engaging.

But you’ve broken it off before, and came back eventually.

Simon just needs an in again. All he has to do is figure it out, and then he can put away these fucking screens and surveillance. He can be by your side and be there when you give birth.

Leaning back in his chair, Simon observes every screen, his palm rubbing against his thigh as he considered his options.

He has to play this right.

He has to.

John "Soap" MacTavish

“Do you think you’ll ever find your woman again?”

Johnny grins behind his pint glass. “If she’s here,” he replies.

The beer is perfectly cold and goes down easily. It’s refreshing since it’s so bloody hot outside.

Johnny didn’t think he’d ever come back to the little seaside town. He came between missions—a way to relax and get away for a bit. With only a few hundred residents, it seemed like the perfect place. What he didn’t expect was to meet a woman that upended his fatigue and made him glow a little brighter.

He learned your name while exploring a local pub. You were a pretty thing. Caught Johnny’s eye immediately. With several beers fueling him, Johnny struck up a conversation, and you were receptive to his charm—melting like butter over fresh toast.

That evening, the two of you jumped from pub to pub, having a bloody good time. It was fucking magical. Afterward, the two of you ventured back to Johnny’s hotel room. But the two of you didn’t have sex. It wasn’t until the next morning that Johnny actually fucked you.

Johnny had presented himself, you slid right into his arms. The hotel bed was well-used. There wasn’t a moment after that Johnny didn’t have his dick inside you. He kept you full and screaming his name for an entire fucking week.

But when that week was up, the two of you parted ways. You gave Johnny your number, and for a couple months, you were consistent in your texts and phone calls. Then it all changed, and you began to contact him less frequently.

Eventually, you didn’t talk to Johnny at all.

He was hurt at first. He tried to reach out. But Johnny didn’t hear a thing—and he left you to it. Maybe someone else arrived into your life. Johnny can respect that even if he doesn’t exactly like it.

It sucked then. And it still pains him a bit now. Johnny liked you when you left—and if he’s being entirely honest with himself—he still fucking likes you.

Maybe you’ll be here. Maybe you won’t.

Kyle is with him this time. A guy’s trip. Price isn’t one for vacations, and Simon has his own shit going on.

“We could try that pub again,” suggests Kyle. “See if she’s there.”

Johnny shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Did she live here?” asks Kyle.

Johnny nods. “Aye. Sure did.”

Kyle bobs his head. “We’ll find her.”

The two of them sit outside a small pub. The air is laced with salt from the ocean, and the sun is out, shining bright. It’s hot, but it’s a beautiful fucking day.

Johnny hums in agreement, bringing his pint glass back to his lips. For a moment, Johnny glances away from Kyle, looking out across the road where people walk along the pavement. He frowns.

Is that?

No. Can’t be.

His focus becomes a tunnel, and all he can see is the woman across the road. It’s you. There is no doubt. He knows that body, that hair and smile. You haven’t changed all that much. Not really.

There is another woman with you—a friend that Johnny met briefly before you and him went off on your own.

But that isn’t what has Johnny’s attention.

You’ve turned, and Johnny can see a swell to your stomach. Your hand cradles it affectionately.

“What is it?” asks Kyle, but his voice is distant.

“That’s her,” murmurs Johnny, his pint glass lowering back to the table.

You don’t see him. You’re chatting with your friend, features animated. The curve in your stomach is fairly large, and a deep twisting in his stomach arises, moving toward his throat.

“Oh fuck,” says Johnny as Kyle shifts to look in the direction Johnny is staring.

“Is that?”

“It fucking is.”

“She’s fucking pregnant.”

Johnny swallows. “Aye.”

He doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s likely the fucking truth. The baby is probably his. No wonder you stopped talking to him. Maybe you thought it best to cut off contact when you found out.

But that doesn’t sit right with him either. If you had told him, Johnny could have been there for you sooner—not finding out like this.

You throw your head back and laugh, playfully hitting your friend’s arm as she says something funny. When you wipe at your face, clearing tears, your gaze shifts, and all the humor leaves your face.

You’re staring right at Johnny.

And he’s staring back.

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@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

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[streetlamp-amber]

first kicks

batfamily x batmom!reader

word count: 1.9k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!

CW: family fluff, pregnancy NOTES: i wanted to write more batfam fluff this time with jason included. very sorry if jason is ooc, most of my knowledge of him comes from fics lol

Rainy Sunday afternoons at Wayne Manor were usually spent with you and your sons in the living room, occupying the big U-shaped sectional sofa. Sometimes Bruce would join you three, resting his feet on the coffee table as he worked on his laptop. Today was one of those days.

You were helping Dick do some research on the internet for a science school project that was due next week while Jason laid on his stomach on the other side of the couch, reading a Where’s Waldo? book by himself. Your husband sat in the other corner of the couch, doing some research on the latest villain terrorising Gotham. You didn’t mind if the work he was doing was for Batman, as long as he spent some time with the family outside of the cave, you were satisfied. Especially since the Wayne clan was about to expand in a little more than four months. Plus, with your belly growing bigger as the weeks went by, it was becoming harder for you to do some tasks around the house. Tasks that you didn’t want to ask Alfred for help with since it was your husband’s job to be at your beck and call through the pregnancy. Bruce obviously didn’t mind and loved helping you, he just sometimes tended to get lost in his Batman work for long periods of time.

The television was playing in the background, a football game between two teams that you didn’t really care about was taking place but you didn’t mind. You couldn’t work well without some sort of background noise and this was doing the job.

”So Dick, have you chosen which natural disaster to base your research project on?” Bruce asked your eldest while closing his laptop and joining him on his other side, making the twelve year old squished between his parents.

”We’ve narrowed it down to three: the 2011 Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami, the 1906 San Francisco earthquake and Hurricane Katrina,” Dick answered, clicking on different tabs of each of the natural disasters as he named them. “I want to do my research on a popular one so I can easily find all the information I need.”

”Smart, isn’t he?” You smirked at Bruce as you mindlessly threaded your fingers in Dick’s dark hair who continued scrolling on the internet.

“Never thought otherwise,” your husband said, mirroring your grin. “Jay, have you found all the Waldos yet?” He leaned forward to ask Jason.

“I’m almost done,” the six year old easily dismissed Bruce, not even bothering to tear his eyes away from the pages.

“It’s best not to bother him when he’s searching for Waldo,” you informed your husband in a low volume.

Bruce nodded his head in understanding and redirected his attention back on Dick. “So, how are you gonna make your choice, chum? You could write them down on three pieces of paper and do a draw,” he suggested, leaning his arm on the back of the couch behind Dick, his fingers playing with the neck of your tshirt.

“Dad, I don’t need to write it down on some paper,” Dick sighed, a little annoyed. “You can do that on the internet now.”

“You can?” Bruce asked, surprised. Your husband was really tech savvy when it came down to work related to Batman, but silly, random stuff like a drawing roulette was not part of his internet knowledge.

You leaned your head on your left hand that was propped on the back of the couch and soothingly rubbed your round belly with the other. You watched with a soft smile Dick showing Bruce how to generate a random picking wheel to spin on the internet. Moments like these were the ones you cherished the most, domesticity wasn’t always the norm around here when you had two vigilantes living under your roof so you always tried to savour them whenever they happened.

The calmness in you was interrupted when you felt movement under your right hand.

“Oh my God,” you whispered, eyes round like saucers as you looked down at your bump and raised up the hem of your shirt to make sure what you felt was right.

“What?” Bruce immediately turned his attention to you. “What is it? Is something wrong? Are you alright?”

“I think the baby just kicked,”you said, raising your head to meet his eyes.

“The baby just kicked?” He repeated in disbelief.

You shook your head ‘yes’ just as you felt more movement. “The baby kicked again.”

Bruce rapidly stood up to sit by your side while Dick discarded his laptop before placing a hand on your belly and Jason left his book to climb on your husband’s lap to be closer to you. All had a hand on your stomach, staring at it expectantly, waiting for another kick.

“I don’t know if the baby’s gonna kick again,” you told them.

“Well that’s just not fair,” Jason whined.

“We just need to be patient,” Bruce said. “I’m sure the baby will do it again.”

And sure enough he was right. 

“Oh my God! I felt it! I felt the baby kick!” Dick exclaimed, though he kept the volume of his voice to a low level as if he would scare the baby away if he screamed.

“I wanna feel it too!” Jason cried.

“Here Jay, put your hand there,” you told your youngest as you gently grabbed his wrist and moved his hand to a different area of your belly, closer to Dick’s hand.

“Maybe if we keep talking, the baby will kick again,” Dick suggested.

“That’s true, babies can hear us from inside the mother’s belly,” Bruce agreed with him.

“They can?” Jason looked at you quizzically.

You chuckled at his confused face as you brushed his hair away from his forehead. “Yeah they can, it’s not completely soundproof in there,” you answered him.

“That’s why Dad is always talking to your belly?” Dick asked.

You fully laughed at this. “Yes, that’s why Dad talks to the belly. You can too if you wanna.”

“We can?” Dick perked up then leaned closer to your bump. “Hi baby, I’m Dick. Your big brother,” he said.

Jason also leaned forward. “And I’m Jason, I’m also gonna be your big brother.”

“Yeah but I’m the big big brother, I’m the oldest,” Dick argued.

“But I’m gonna be a big brother too!”

“Boys,” Bruce intervened. “No arguing around your mother. The baby will hear enough of that when it joins our lives, let it have its peace while it’s in the womb.”

A series of kicks started at that moment, making Dick and Jason gasp in surprise at the movements they felt under their hands. Bruce turned to you and the two of you shared a look full of love.

“That’s our baby,” he said to you, almost in a whisper, while Dick and Jason continued marvelling at the fact they could feel their sibling.

“That's our baby,” you repeated in confirmation. Nothing could've erased the smiles on both of your lips.

“I love you,” Bruce said against your forehead before leaving a soft kiss there and pulling away to share a short peck on the lips with you.

“Ew! Gross!” Jason interrupted your moment. Your sons weren’t the biggest fans of you and Bruce’s displays of affection for each other.

You giggled at the boys’ antics but still took a second to say “I love you” back to your husband.

“Someone should get Alfred so we can share this moment with him,” you suggested to the kids.

“Not it!”

“Not it!”

Jason and Dick quickly shouted, the former being the fastest to say it.

Dick groaned before he stood up from the couch and jogged out of the living room. The faster he would find Alfred, the faster he would be back next to you. “Alfred! The baby is kicking for the first time!” Dick called through the manor for your butler.

“He knows he doesn’t need to scream, right?” Bruce asked you. “Alfred can hear the boys break something all the way from the other side of the house.”

“Oh, let him be. He’s just very excited about the baby kicking,” you lightly reprimanded him with the corner of your mouth pulling up in a smirk.

You detached your gaze from your husband down to Jason who now had both of his small hands on your belly, his mouth in the shape of an ‘O’ and his eyes round with wonder in them.

“This is so cool,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“Looks like you’re gonna have some competition Jay, that baby sure is kicking a lot,” Bruce jokingly commented as the kicking didn’t stop.

You chuckled as you remembered all the times you’d stop by the gym room to find Jason relentlessly kicking at Bruce’s punching bag. For a six year old, he already had so much anger pent up inside his little body and it worried you sometimes. But ever since Bruce brought him back to the Manor, Jay had been getting better. The amount of vases thrown at the wall had drastically decreased since then, both to yours and Alfred’s reliefs, and he instead would run to the gym room and let out his anger on the punching bag when needed.

“I can’t wait to play fight with you,” Jason whispered loudly to your belly with a smile.

“No,” you immediately said.

“Best you stick to play fighting with Dick for a couple more years, buddy,” Bruce told your son.

Jason pouted. “But he's always pulling some acrobatic shit–”

“Language!” You scolded him.

“But Ma! Dad and Dick say it all the time!” Jason cried out defensively. “That’s not fair,” he retracted his hands from your belly to cross his arms over his chest.

“Well Dad and Dick, and you too apparently, will not be saying words like that around the baby,” you warned. “Capiche?”

“Capiche,” Jason mumbled.

“Capiche?” You repeated, now glaring at your husband.

“Hey, I’ve really been refraining on the bad words ever since Dick joined us,” Bruce argued but you raised your eyebrows in a way that said this wasn’t what you wanted to hear. “Capiche,” Bruce sighed out, knowing he wasn't going to win this fight.

“Master Dick, slow down a little. There’s no need for running,” you heard Alfred’s voice approaching down the hall.

“But Alfred, the baby is kicking!” Dick reiterated.

Your oldest ran in the living room, his hand firmly holding Alfred’s who tried to keep up behind him.

“I heard you the first ten times, Master Dick, the baby will still be there no matter how fast we get there,” Alfred argued.

“Yeah but it might stop kicking,” Dick said and the two sat on the couch to your unoccupied left.

“Don’t worry chum, the baby’s still kicking,” Bruce told him while looking fondly at your belly.

“Please Alfred, feel the baby,” you said to your butler with an inviting smile, grabbing his hand that rested on his knee and gently squeezing it. “We want you to be part of this moment too.”

Alfred’s hand joined the others on your bump and the old man smiled at you and Bruce as he felt the tiny bumps moving around under your skin. “This is sensational.”

“Isn’t it?” You smiled back at him, content to have everyone you wanted to share your baby’s first kicks with.

Your little family of five (soon-to-be six) remained on the couch until the baby grew tired and stopped kicking, much to Dick and Jason’s dismay. Alfred went back to his tasks, the boys to their laptop and book, and Bruce wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you cuddled next to him, watching over your children and just enjoying the normalcy of this Sunday afternoon.

Domesticity used to be rare at the Wayne Manor, but not anymore. And you, for one, were very happy about it.

[a-b-riddle]

Part 9 (unrevised version). Since I've gotten 6 messages and a good bit of asks requesting to view it. Here it is, not in its final form.

You had hoped Monday would have treated you better than the past two days, but walking up to your shop in the pouring rain to already see a body standing outside waiting wasn't a good sign.

Customers who waited outside your shop always made you feel uncomfortable. But when you finally got close enough, you took in the person before you.

"We don't open for another hour." Your voice flat as you fished for your keys.

"I'll wait." Was Kyle's reply.

"Then you'll have to do it outside." You said, the key sliding into the lock. He didn't argue as you shut the door behind you. Didn't even bother knocking when, after thirty minutes, you looked in the window to see that the wind was causing the rain to blow sideways.

You relented. Letting him in thirty minutes earlier. It was a small mercy, even if he was soaked to the bone. You almost felt bad when his chattering teeth were the only thing you could hear.

Almost.

"I take it John told you about our little talk yesterday." You said, going about your business. Engaging in the conversation as if you were talking about the shitty weather that had tried to drown him.

"He did." He gave a sniffle. Running a hand over his beautiful, wet face. Droplets still staking their claim on his skin. "H-he alssso t-t-told us we were on our own in begging for our own f-forgiveness. Ra-ra- rightly s-s-s-so."

You huffed. Guilt beginning to eat at you before you turned, disappearing to the back of the store and coming back with a shirt and a blanket. "You left the shirt here."

He had no shame and wasted no time in taking off his jacket and soaked shirt. His chiseled body exposed to you. It was almost instinct to reach out and touch the soft skin. You luckily possessed some form of self restraint.

"So are you here to promise to make amends as well?" You crossed your arms. You meant it as a sign that you were wanting to create distance, but honestly you didn't trust yourself. It was second nature. Kyle and Johnny were tied when it came to having to always touch you.

Probably why his ghosting sucked so bad.

"I'd like to take you out." You couldn't help the laugh that escaped you. It wasn't until Kyle's face fell that you realized, "Oh, you're actually serious."

He opened his mouth, ready to no doubt give you the same exact promises of doing better that John had given you the day before. Fortunately for Kyle, you didn't have the time to entertain a conversation.

"Fine." You immediately relented. No argument. "That Indian place where I asked you to go four months ago. Seven. If you manage to figure out which place, then I'll be meeting you there. Otherwise you'll be eating alone."

Kyle stood still. Unprepared for the fact that you had... agreed. You actually agreed to let him take you out.

"I can pick you up."

"Not sure what time I'll be getting off today. Might go home first. Might just go straight there." You started opening tasks again. "I have to finish setting up. Seven sharp.

"Seven sharp." He repeated, his smile lighting up the room.

It made you feel sick.

It was 6:45 when your phone started ringing. It was Kyle. Confirming that he was at the restaurant you were supposed to go.

7:00. He had gotten the two of you a table. He'll go ahead and order you a drink. They had mango lassi, but wasn't sure if you wanted to stick to just water.

7:15 He tries calling you. When it goes to voicemail, a follow up text is sent asking if you're okay.

At 7:20, while sitting on the couch you text back. Sorry. Something came up. We'll reschedule, I promise.

If you knew giving them a taste of their own medicine felt so good, you would have done it ages ago. You felt no since of shame in sending it. You hated being petty, but you wanted them to know what it felt like.

John had a lot more of verbal outbursts coming his way and if Johnny was hoping for a chance, he would be lucky if you had sex with him again before marriage.

Ten minutes later, on the dot, there was a knocking on your door. Your food had arrived. Blindly, you opened the door. Only instead of the take out you had delivered, Kyle stood there. Yet again soaked to the bone and this time out of breath.

"How did you know I was here?" Was the first thing that had come into your mind. If anything, he would have went by the shop first, but no. He came here. You weren't the type to deviate from a schedule, but christ. Simon at your date and then the club. John at the shop on your day off. Now this. "I swear to fucking god this fucking stalking-"

"Easy now, Love. No one's stalking you." Bullshit.

Absolute bullshit. They were military. Really important and special connections type of military, but this was bullshit. They were keeping tabs on you somehow.

"I know for a fucking fact that place is only ten minutes away. So you didn't have time to check out my store-- where I should be-- before coming here. So I'm going to ask you again, how did you know I was here?"

"Okay," he shrugged. "Stalking. We're stalking you." Kyle was lying. We he nodded like a bobblehead, you knew whatever was coming out of his mouth was bullshit. The first time you confirmed it was after Johnny had volunteered to make haggis. Kyle told him it was good, no doubt hoping to spare his feelings.

"Kyle." You warned, eyes narrowed and teeth clenched. He paused as if trying to form another lie, but coming up short. Sighing in defeat, he confessed.

"Blocking us didn't stop you from sharing your location." In that moment, you could have strangled him. They had been still using your location. Something you had given them as a way to find you if you ever needed help. Now those assholes were using it for their own benefit.

"Son of a-" you shut your mouth. "I can't do this with you right now, okay?" You didn't confess that your publisher had asked for a last minute zoom call in the middle of your busiest work hour to see how you felt about doing a few meet and greets, all expenses paid.

Good news, but still... overwhelming. You still felt like an imposter. That you didn't deserve the hype you were getting. Your story wasn't that good. Your characters didn't hold much depth.

"Everything okay?" You didn't want to tell him. Didn't want to give him the chance to offer the reassurance you desperately needed for something he had no idea about.

"Why?" You asked, changing the subject. "I just want to know why? With John I get that the job gets stressful and needing someone to take-"

"No," he finished. "That's not an excuse. It's a reason. Not an excuse." His jaw clenched. "There is no excuse for how any of us treated you."

"Then what was your reason?" you asked. "I'm finding it very hard that someone who quite actively avoided me suddenly wants to get back together."

"I slacked off?" He shrugged. "I figured there were four of us and if I wasn't able to be there, it wouldn't make a difference."

"If you're just going to lie, Kyle, there is no point in continuing this conversation." You go to close the door only for his hand to stop you.

He stands there, looking at the ground. Even from the this angle you can see him take his bottom lip between his teeth.

He's nervous.

You step back. Giving him the option of coming in and saying it is whatever it is he needs to stay. He may be an ass like the rest of them, but this isn't exactly a conversation you want to have in the hallway for your nosey neighbors to hear.

He takes the silent invitation. Walking in and not speaking until you click the door shut. "You want the truth?" His voice is soft, but there is something else behind it. Anger?

"No," you say sardonically. "Please. Lie to me." He sighed, but didn't say anything. You were exhausted. The past few days had been a back-to-back rollercoaster of emotions. You were drained. You didn't have it in you for this right now. "Kyle-"

"I thought you only kept asking because you felt bad for me." He said the words so quickly, it took you a moment to process them. He thought.... you felt bad for him? "Like you were still trying to include me even if you didn't want to."

"Why?" Was the only thing you could come up with. You didn't have the energy to try to come up with your own reasoning for his admission.

"Don't think I don't know how I am compared to the them." He scoffed. You always knew the hierarchy of their work, even if you didn't know all the details. John was at the top. Captain and head bitch in charge. Simon was the lieutenant with Johnny and Kyle as Sergeants. Kyle was the youngest of the group by two years, but still. What was there to compare?

"So you're not a Captain or Lieutenant?" you shrug. "Johnny is the same rank as you. And you are the youngest and I'm sure with time you'll get to a position-"

"Black!" He said. "I'm black. I am the only fucking black guy not only in this relationship. I'm the only black guy in the 141, in the unit."

When it came to Kyle, black was the last thing you thought of. You thought of his soft brown eyes or house his hands felt so smooth against your body. How his smile could light up the room and how beautiful, how head-turning gorgeous he was. "I'm just an after thought in everything else regarding the 141, why would you be any different?"

"Ky," you were going to be sick. Was this how he really felt? With you? With the others? With work? "You know I don't feel that way, right?"

"Do you remember that time we went out? That french place?" How could you forget. The maître d' had asked Kyle to put a card on a tab before the two of you were even seated. At first you thought it was preposterous. Why would you make patrons at a fine dining restaurant do that? This wasn't a pub for Christ sakes. Kyle told you not to worry about it and handed over a card.

The two of you never went back.

"Oh my god." It dawned on you. "When they asked for your card..."

"I..." he sucked in a breath. Trying to keep his composure. "It was fucking humiliating. I was a man dressed to the fucking nines with a gorgeous girl on my arm and before I even got the chance to blow my money, I was treated like I couldn't afford it. It wasn't because of what I was wearing or who I was with. It was because of me. Of who I was. Who I am."

"Kyle," words escaped you. Nothing in that moment to reassure him that it never dawned on you. That it stupidly never dawned on you how there were times that people did look at him different. You wanted to tell him that it didn't matter. That you were just as important and lovable and respectable as the others. That you loved him just as much. Words failed you. All you could say say was, "I'm so sorry."

He swallowed, before taking in harsh breath through his nose. "It's not an excuse. I got wrapped up in my own stupid fucking head about how other people looked at me, I forgot it only mattered how you did."

"And you did." You said, aching to reach out. To touch him. Offer some comfort. Hating that he ever felt like he wasn't enough. Knowing the feeling all too well. Even if he was the one to make you feel it. "You did matter to me."

"I know." He said. You were thankful he said it clearly. Not shrugging his shoulders or nodding his head as he spoke. "I'll do anything to matter to you again." He took your hands in his, even though they had ached to hold you closer. But he knew not to test his luck. "If you want to press restart and let's take it back to the very beginning, I'll do that. I will court you and woo you and make you fall in love with me all over again because I will never fall out with you. I can't."

You weren't prepared for this. You had prepared to leave Kyle waiting in a restaurant alone. Now your heart ached in your chest at the idea of letting him ever think he wasn't enough because of the color of his skin.

"It doesn't have to be now or tomorrow or next week or next fucking month." He squeezed your hands the same way had John had. With the exact same intensity and promise. "Just let me try again. I won't let you down this time. I'll put in the work."

"I don't want you to feel like you have to work to make this relationship work, Kyle." You protest, wanting to pull your hands away. Free from the spell his touch had seem to be putting you under.

He smiled. Not enough to show off his teeth, but enough where have of his face lifted up. "It's not the type of work with long hours and a shit commute. Loving you is the same kind of work an artist puts into making a masterpiece. Pouring everything into it and getting something beautiful in return."

Before you could comprehend it, your face was wet. "Kyle." Your lips quivered, a sob threatening to come out. "I never felt like I needed to spend time with you, Ky." You sniffled. "I fucking wanted to. I missed you." You were so close. You needed to reel it in. Get it together.

"I just didn't understand how you could." His confession broke any restraint you had. Your hand flew to your mouth, trying to subdue your cries. When Kyle pulled you to his chest, his arms wrapping around you, you allowed yourself to crumble.

Not even for yourself, but for him.

For the kind heart you now knew broke with every sideways glance from passer-byes. For the hateful and prejudice world you lived in and for how they could overlook such a wonderful man just because of something as basic as the color of his skin.

You weren't sure how long you stood crying. You weren't certain if the knock on the door behind him actually happened or something your mind had conjured to try and pull you from your fit.

Eventually you did pull away from him. Your face covered in snot and tears. Seeing that you still were in need of it, Kyle pulled you back to him, only this time your face wasn't buried into his shirt.

You stood there. His arms wrapped around your back while yours found their home around his waist.

"I used to love when you would come back to my place directly from base as soon as you got back from a deployment." You said, breaking the silence. "I would be waiting like a kid on Christmas waiting to see what trinket made you think of me. You made me feel like even though we were so far away, you still thought about me."

"Always." He said, before his lips pressed against the top of your head. "Not a day I didn't miss being here with you."

The two of you eventually settled down on the couch. Both on opposite ends with a hot cup of tea in your hands and the array of take out containers half empty. You had planned for a night of eating your feelings so there was luckily enough food for two.

"I don't want to say no." You admitted. "But I need time. Before I even think about saying yes to all of this again."

"Not all of this," he reminded. "Just me. I'm doing my part in groveling, let the others figure it out. Or at least that's just what Price told us. Although you would be doing all of us a favor if you talked to Johnny?" Your ears perked up. You hadn't seen or heard from Johnny since Friday.

"What's wrong with Johnny?" You asked.

"Lad didn't cope well with you going on your date." Not that you had fucked him and said it was a mistake.... or maybe he kept that tidbit to himsle.f

"It wasn't a-" you started.

"I know," he said. "Simon happened to be nearby." You shot him a look, letting him know you weren't buying that lie, before he continued. "But he didn't. Fuck you're lucky we were able to drag him out of your apartment before you got back and he made an even bigger fool of himself."

"What are you talking about?" You asked. "What do you mean by drag?"

"Johnny called Simon. Told him you were on a date and to bring your ass back. Although you had made it a point to fuck him and leave-- absolutely no judgement, by the way-- he was going to make it a point to never leave your bed."

"My top sheet..." You had come home to your comforters and pillows on the floor. When making up your bed, the top sheet was missing. You had just assumed you didn't put it on or maybe it was in the wash.

"Refused to put his clothes back on. Me and John couldn't risk carrying a naked, screaming Scot through the streets without making a spectical. So we rolled him up and carried him of like a rug. A very heavy, squirmy rug."

"Oh," your hand flew to your chest. "Johnny." He was the bleeding heart of the group so you weren't exactly surprised. He was also the one who blew up shit, so he was definitely one for dramatics. "So that's how Simon figured out about dinner. But the drinks-"

"Whenever Simon is home, he's your shadow. The only time we don't worry about you is when we know he's with you." That made you roll your eyes.

"You act like he's my guard dog."

"He is."

"Is not." You defended, your conversation from Saturday night coming back to you.

"You're not my body guard, Simon." You snapped.

"Not trying to be," he said. "I was never trying to be."

"He's not." you said again.

"You're right." Kyle relented, shrugging his fucking shoulders.

"You're saying that like you're just not trying to argue with me." He took a sip of your tea. "Kyle!" He sighed before looking at you as if the last thing he wanted to do was continue on the subject.

"He is." He said. "Your guard dog."

"I mean he protects me, but all of you do." He shakes his head, a huff of air going out of his nose, almost amused.

"Not like Simon." He admits it almost as if he were ashamed. "I want to say something." He said it as if he were preparing you for the next words to come out of his mouth would change the course of the night. "I need to say it because it would make me less of a man and even less of a friend if I didn't. But I don't want you to hate me or yourself for it."

Why would you hate yourself for it?

"Fine." you agreed, giving him permission to continue. "I won't hold it against you."

"You were always the one to coordinate things to do. One-on-one dates. Helping John with paperwork when shit got to crazy and you were the only one the uptight asshole would let touch his files." You gave a small smile remembering how John had barked at a recruit to get the fuck out of his office before peppering you with kisses at your arrival. Giving small pecks of appreciation as he explained what he needed you to do and how to do it.

"Helping me after my shoulder injury and staying on my ass about the physical therapy."

"Well someone had to." You countered.

"This past Christmas when Johnny needed to get his sisters gifts so you made a whole day out of it going to see lights and ice skating." Johnny was the proud owner of a freshly bruised tailbone after landing flat on his ass and swearing off skating for the rest of his life. Feckin' ice.

"Okay?" You asked, not really sure where Kyle was headed for this. He had pointed out what a good girlfriend you were, had been. How you had always tried to be helpful and do whatever needed to help your boys out.

He stopped. He looked at you as if he were debating to tell you what he had warned you about. He looked down at the floor before taking his bottom lip in between his teeth.

"Fuck." He muttered.

"Spit it out, Kyle!" You whined, now clueless to what point he was trying to make by all the examples of what a good girlfriend you had been.

He looked at you with the same solemness that a friend looked at another friend before having to call them out on their shit, knowing that the pill they were about to be given would be a hard one to swallow.

"You never did that with Simon."

[7s3ven]

MAFIA AU! TASK FORCE 141 x MOB BOSS GF! READER

( head cannons / might turn into a series )

Feel free to to request more scenarios with this au LOL

Notes: poly, reader is described as on the shorter side, age gap, daddy issues (reader has a bad father), inappropriate jokes/themes mentioned

YSL, red bottom shoes, sugary cocktails, leopard print, faux fur, y2k, mcbling, lana del rey, cigarettes, mob boss wife…

- When people join the mafia, they expect tough muscled men, maybe a few scarred women carelessly waving around guns. What they don’t expect is you

- You’re an interesting sight, perched on Price’s lap like a little trophy, freshly manicured nails tapping away at your phone screen as you play a game

- You don’t care about whatever meeting you’re in, you aren’t even listening to Price’s rather gory plans. You’re too busy deciding what to have for lunch

- Nobody can look away from your pretty pout as you discover your favourite drink is temporarily out of stock

- Price was the one who found you first. Your father was indebted to the mafia and what better way to force him to pay than taking his precious daughter? Price found it strange how you were so willing to leave your father but it made sense when you told him the truth

- Your father wasn’t a good man. He had blood on his hands and he never cared much about you or your mother. You were thankful to find a way out, even if it meant going with a strange (but equally handsome) man

- You belonged to Price first but his property was Simon, Kyle, and Jonny’s as well

- “Jonny, is this skirt too short?” You asked, tilting your head to the side.

Jonny glanced up from his phone, shrugging. “Nah. It’s all good, bonnie. I can fight. ‘Sides, shorter skirts makes it easier to bend ya over.”

- Simon loves sharing his cigarettes with you, especially when you kiss him and transfer the smoke into his mouth. The best part is seeing your lipstick stain the end of his cigarette

- Price buys you lots of clothes and accessories. You’re never not draped in the most expensive jewellery he can find. Gaz is the one buying you heels. For some reason, he has a knack for choosing the best shoes

- Seeing you waltz around in your short skirts, lace tops, and clicking high heels is enough of a reward for the four men

- The rookies love the sight of you but you’re forbidden fruit. You belonged to their bosses who did not like to share

- When there’s talk of a rat among the mafia, your four lovers do not take it kindly. They need someone to infiltrate whatever plot is brewing up. Luckily, they have you. Nobody in their right mind would pass a chance on being able to get a taste of your strawberry-flavored lipgloss

- “Oh my gosh, it’s giving office siren.” You say, excitedly tugging on the tight, short-sleeved blouse that Ghost is shaking his head at.

“It’s too short.” He mutters, “Ain’t there a ‘nother size?”

“It was the only one. Sorry, baby.” You sheepishly smiled at your lover’s displeasure. “Anyway, how do I look?”

Clad in that damn white blouse, a short pencil skirt, and thinly rimmed glasses, you were a vision.

“You look like you’re ’bout to get some action when ya get back.” Kyle says, nodding over at Soap who’s staring at you shamelessly.

“How ‘bout this, lovie?” Price steps forward, “If you do a good job, we’ll give you a little reward. Sound good, yeah?”

( please note that for the cod tag list, you will be tagged in all the cod fics i post, not just this one lol )

COD TAG LIST (COMMENT TO BE ADDED/REMOVED): @galactict3a

[ellecdc]

hi i’m obsessed with all your work. you’re so talented!!!!! i was wondering if you could write barty crouch jr x reader where they have a fight or he messes up on the day of halloween so she dresses up really slutty for the halloween party to punish him

poor barty - thoughts and prayers, also I made this Potter!reader for no real reason but it felt right

Barty Crouch Jr x Potter!reader who forces him to atone for his sins [1.3k words]

CW: sacrilege, blasphemy, dressing provocatively, fighting with your boyfriend

You took a breath (which sounded far more like a huff in your current state) before you knocked (read: banged none too gently) on your friend’s dormitory door. 

You heard a murmur and some shuffling before the door propped open, opening further once Dorcas saw who was standing on the other side.

“Hey Potter. Alright?”

“Yeah, fine. Is your girlfriend here?” You forced out as you tried to look over Dorcas’ shoulder, only turning your gaze back to her when she didn’t respond to notice an arched eyebrow as she considered you. 

“Hi, Dorcas. How are you?” You groaned.

“Well, thank you. What can I do for you?” She responded primly.

“Is Marlene here?” 

“Why yes she is!” A different voice sounded before Marlene - in all of her blonde-hair-with-a-purple-streak glory - stood on her tiptoes to rest her chin on Dorcas’ shoulder. “What can I do for you, gorgeous?” 

You took another deep breath - more steadying this time - before you gave Marlene what you hoped to be your most determined expression. “I want you to help me look like a whore tonight.” 

Dorcas’ mouth fell open slightly as she brought her hand up in a silent gasp, but Marlene’s face simply broke out into a shit-eating grin as she looked you up and down. 

“It would be my pleasure.” 

☠︎︎༒︎✞︎🕸𖤐

That’s how you found yourself a few hours later standing in the middle of the seventh year Gryffindor girls’ dorm as Marlene, Lily, Mary, and Dorcas fussed over you. 

“So, what exactly did Junior do for you to do this to him?” Dorcas drawled as she fastened a red velvet choker around your neck. 

“How is that even a question, Cas?” Mary asked from in front of you where she was fixing some glitter to various points of your face. “It’s Junior.” 

“It’s a man.” Marlene added.

“I’m sure he deserves it.” Lily agreed as she zipped up the red thigh high leather boots on your fishnet stocking clad legs. 

“Oh I don’t doubt that he deserves it. This just seems a little extreme for Potter.” 

You let out another huff as you smoothed a hand down the front of the bodice of your corset. 

“He was supposed to match me tonight.” You sighed, all four girls pausing in their current tasks to look at you. “But he said he, Reg, and Evan had the best idea for a group costume.” 

“And you let him?” Marlene asked in disbelief.

“Well what was I supposed to do?! Say no?”

“Yeah!” The four girls chorused.

“No.” You scoffed, your previous determination once again colouring your features. “I shouldn’t have to ask him to do things with me, he should want to do things with me! If he’d rather wear matching costumes with his mates, fine.” 

“Bully for him.” Mary murmured as she stepped back to appreciate your form. 

“Lucky for the rest of us, though…” Marlene added as she joined Mary; giving you a once over with an expression of hunger she didn’t even bother to hide before shooting you a salacious wink.

“I’d say,” Lily agreed, “you look downright sinful.” 

You smirked as you looked at yourself in the mirror, devil horns sitting in your perfectly styled hair that Dorcas did for you, your makeup bold and beautiful and so sparkly thanks to Mary, the red corset cinched perfectly around your waist and accentuating every curve of your body to - as Lily put so eloquently - sinful perfection with a very short ruffled skirt that gave way to fishnets and the red leather thigh high boots that made your legs look as if they went on for days. 

“Fuck I look hot.”

Marlene let out a bark of laughter as Mary came up behind you and smoothed her hands over your waist. 

“Go give him hell.” 

☠︎︎༒︎✞︎🕸𖤐

“What the fuck, bug?” James squawked as he spotted you in the common room; you and the girls walking in once the party was in full swing. 

“Hi James, you look really nice too.” Lily deadpanned when her boyfriend hadn’t even bothered commenting on her costume.

“Lils, you look perfect; hi angel, hi love. I’m sorry. But what the fuck did you do to my sister?”

“How do you know I had anything to do with it?” Lily scoffed.

“Please,” James started, “this is absolutely your handiwork.”

“It is.” Lily agreed quickly, clearly proud of her work.

“Uh oh…” Sirius drawled as he and Remus - dressed as the big bad wolf and little red riding hood - sauntered over as he gave you an appreciative once over. “What’d Junior do now?” 

“He better count his blessings…” Remus added with a smirk as he shot you a wink.

“I doubt he has a snowball's chance in hell.” Dorcas snickered.

The conversation was interrupted at the sound of a glass shattering. 

“Wha-” Barty started, standing in the middle of the party as people backed away from the shards of what was once a cup that had been in his hand (and any other potential chaos one Barty Crouch Junior might cause) giving him a clear view of you.

“Thoughts and prayers, Junior.” Marlene snickered as she slapped a patronising hand on his back and your friends all dispersed. 

“Treasure, I-”

“You’re not allowed to call me that right now.” You muttered as you crossed your arms. 

Barty’s face fell somewhere near devastation as he took careful steps towards you. 

“Really? It was so important for you to blow me off so you could dress up like a priest?” 

He winced as he seemed to fight against the urge to reach a hand out for you. “It…we convinced Evan to dress up as a nun.”

You made an unimpressed hum. “And Regulus?”

“A monk…he even has the funny haircut- you know what, it’s not important, I’m-”

“No, no. Don’t do that.” You cut him off. “It was clearly very important yesterday when you blew off your own girlfriend the day before the party to play dress up with your friends.” 

“Treasure-”

“Barty.”

“Y/N, I- I’m sorry, I’m an idiot.”

“I’d say.” Regulus snorted as he walked behind you and very clearly let his eyes trail from the skin of your shoulders down to your legs and back up again. “Merlin, Potter. Or- should I say Jesus Christ.” 

You rolled your eyes at Regulus but couldn’t help the smirk that took over your face at his muggle-religion blaspheme. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, really; I…I got too excited yesterday and wasn’t thinking, obviously. I know I wouldn’t have felt very good if you’d done this to me…” 

You narrowed your eyes at your boyfriend who did have the graces to look chagrined. 

“I think you’re just saying that because I look hot.”

Barty let out a sigh and tilted his head at you. “You always look hot…though I have to admit this feels a little like torture.”

“That’s too bad,” you huffed, “I was hoping it would feel a lot like torture.” 

“Treasure.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, baby. Really, I- what can I do? Tell me how I can fix this.”

You kept your arms crossed and refused to look at him.

“Tell me. How can I atone for my sins?” He whispered, swallowing thickly as you watched his Adam's apple disappear behind his clerical collar. “Or will I be forced to live in this purgatory for eternity?”

You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth to avoid the smile threatening to take over your face. “You’ll have to repent.” You offered with a shrug of your shoulders.

“Yes.” Barty hissed as he nodded emphatically. “What’s my penance, gorgeous? Tell me.”  

And that’s how - in the middle of the Gryffindor common room on this all hallows’ eve - one could find a priest on his knees in worship at the feet of his devil.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Hybrid Town (3) | Only Human

Part One, Two

Before your fateful encounter that led to the attention of your loyal canine neighbors and the adoring affection of cow-woman- Eudora you were left to your own devices. Managing your own chores and the sprucing up of your newly inherited property. But it’s exhausting working day in and out on such a big project; it’s a given that you search for something else to do. Something to keep the loneliness at bay as you endure the sneers and snickers from the townspeople. Specifically found in one of the most abandoned spots of the whole town the library. 

Ring Ring

“Hello is anyone in here?....Well if you are I’m just going to find what I need and check it out at the desk!”

Typically this would seem presumptuous for anyone to do but you had a sneaking suspicion your human status might have something to do with the missing librarian. Nonetheless, you did what you said grabbing a small amount and writing on the ledger conveniently left on the desk. Filling it out hoping that whoever was responsible for the neatly kept interior within the run-down library would realize you’d taken the initiative to borrow. Unbeknownst to you igniting a chain reaction for those who bear witness.

“Did they…take a book?”

“T-t-they took four!”

“Oh, goodness!?”

Now there were quite a few curious souls that looked at you without contempt as they spied on you flipping through your latest borrows as you made your way to your car but none as eager as the librarian himself. It wasn’t bizarre that someone would come into the library to borrow a book…what was odd was that a newcomer had come for it and had full intentions to return.

“I-it’’s them!?? They’re coming back!”

“Eeek I’ll have to hide!”

Ring Ring

“If anyone’s here I’ll just do what I did last time.” 

Out of the corner of your eye, you think you see some kind of appendage but when you turn to follow you find nothing but another row of books. Still oblivious to the hybrid practically gone into heat at the close encounter, they watch you leave once again.

“They nearly saw my tail!”

“T-that has to mean s-s-something good, right?”

 The few citizens of the town who frequented the library considered themselves to be of a different variety than the plebians rest of the town. A more enlightened group that relied on their vast collection of books to inform their decisions. All led by the very man given the honor to run the library.

“All rise for the great Stein!”

“Rest your heads, my enlightened followers a great happening has come upon us and I have our next course of action.”

By day the librarian was the soft-spoken, always flustered snake hybrid—Stein. Hired by the mayor to watch over the library in a building slowly violating the regulations of the up-to-code buildings surrounding it. It was the perfect place for the alarming presence of a snake hybrid feared for their notorious predatory instinct. Hidden, secluded, and generally avoided by the greater part of the town. Even those with a predator heritage were wary of the reptilian hybrid that is if they didn’t know him for the timid, stuttering librarian he appeared to be is.

“I-i-i’m the librarian w-w-w-what do you need help with?”

“Wow happy to finally meet you this time! Anyway I was wondering if you had the sequel to this book? I tried looking for it but I just can’t seem to find it.”

“T-t-t-that’s f-f-f-fine come with me.”

By night, Stein would become the leader that the minority of the town gathered around. Eagerly awaiting his knowledgable word. On an unrelated note, the town’s collection of books has a larger collection of the fictional genre influencing those curious enough to explore. With so much information they only found it right to turn to the hybrid tasked with understanding it all, seeing as no one other than Stein had attempted to learn from the non-fiction section…that is until you.

“My lord what does this mean!?”

“Shall we stake them?!”

“Ritualize them?!”

“Entice them to join!?

“Enlightened, please! Quiet your questions for I have the answer to all of them. The human is our Excalibur!”

Gasps fill the library basement.

“Can this be?”

“As the legend foretells whosoever should hold Excalibur shall hold the keys to the kingdom!” 

“That must be you our great lord Stein! You are the Arthur!”

“I should hope so.” 

“With this knowledge, we can work together to bring Excalibur to you!”

“But we must be cautious! The others of the round table before they become friends will be enemies!” 

“We must begin planning immediately!”

Stein isn’t delusional or an idiot or easily swayed by any means. He’s well aware that the stories of Welsh folklore are obviously not real at least not in this time. He went to school, a private school that accelerated his learning and then he went to a university where he proceeded to get his doctorate. But the bored and uninspired superstitious minority of the town did not. If that wasn’t enough to convince these other hybrids to follow, the fact that his particular origins were that of the venomous Black Mamba with a mix of Boa Constrictor. They were right to be afraid he happened to have both killer traits of his feared parents, it’s a given many insolent prey will rationalize that the one they fear the most must know the truth.

“(Y-y/n) good to see you, checking out the prequels?”

“You know it. I also wanted to know if you had recommendations for building doggy doors?”

“...I might have something…are you thinking of getting a dog?”

“Not necessarily but I’ve got a hole in my door and I think if I try and fix it it’ll just keep happening.”

“Say it! Ask my lord!”

“What was that?”

“I-i-uh I’m not very good with fixing things b-b-but if you like I could take a look…if you like?”

“That’s real sweet of you Stein, I appreciate that!” 

“The steps to procuring Excalibur commences!”

“Shh!”

He figures if he’s happening to start a cult, he might as well get help in his love-life. It might have been foolish to proclaim a poor outcast human the most prized object that this collective could agree upon but knowing the lengths his followers would go to he’d rather you be something adored than hated. Especially since the control he had on the collective wasn’t as straightforward as he had hoped.

“See my lord we’ve brought you the enemy!”

“Mmmffff.”

“Oh my.”

“It will be your first of many meals—I mean sacrifices in your pursuit of the grand Excalibur.”

“I–yes that is the plan.”

“Now eat! This is just fodder for the great Stein! Oh the grand ruler you’ll be!”

“EAT!” “EAT!” “EAT!” “EAT!”

Stein swallows a tired sigh, ‘a wolf hybrid is gonna be so fattening.’

“For your information my lord, he broke the wheels of Excalibur’s wagon–forcing them to buy their overpriced replacements.”

“...I’ll need salt.”

“Yes, my lord!”

When he’s not playing up to the dastardly cult leader he gets to be at night he’s all so shy. It’s hard trying to connect with the human he’s got such a big crush on especially since their outcasted status was beginning to change. Unknowingly harming him, his collective was being much nicer—complimenting you and standing up for you when you have encounters with human-hating citizens. He’s happy for you but he curses the loss he used to have with speaking to you. Now instead of his well-planned bump-ins with you on the way to the market he’ll have to spend more of his evening following far behind. And that’s when your neighbors and roommate aren’t getting in the way

“Don’t argue with me, Mutt I know you did that on purpose!”

“Please, no one told you to where those dumb shoes to a market day!”

“Yeah well appearance is every–”

“...” “...”

“Mutt go get (Y/n), I smell danger.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

It’s so shattering for him to constantly be overshadowed by every interested citizen in town. It’s almost enough to make him give up hope but the remaining thing that ties him to you is his saving grace. 

“W-what if we made a book-club, you and I?”

“I don’t think anyone would want to join. Not with me in it…”

“Mmm–”

“But I’d love to talk about books with you! Over drinks or at my house if that’s better!”

“T-t-t-that’s perfect!”

If he could get past his fears he’s sure he’d be a force to be reckoned with but he’d much rather go the way he’s going now. He often receives letters about how his mother kept his father close to the nest at the beginning of their relationship. And since she seems to believe he can do even better with a mere human, he’d love if it was all organic minus the cults help.

“I feel like I'm on fire knowing such a holy existence is so close to me. I’m going to take full advantage of this. You are just a human it might be better that it’s me you end up with, especially in this town.”

Part 4: Coming Soon

Taglist: @midnight-nightmares@xrenka@candlesworlds-blog@00hellohello00@lem-hhn @kawaii-cakes @ceramic-raven @lilyalone @asleepysouluniverse @mel-vaz @sxftiebee @staarflowerr @horror-lover-69 @stanfordswifey @butratherbutrather

[subbmissivesuccubus]

Be a good girl~

Disclaimer: Contains Daddy kink, Dom Uzui, Sub reader, Rough sex, some humiliation, degradation, size kink, brat taming, spanking, a bit of breeding kink

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

Uzui didn't know how to explain it, but he's been craving for a bratty submissive to fulfill his desires. Suma, Makio and Hinatsuru were incredible women and he loved them with all his heart, but they weren't interested in being submissive in the bedroom, nor were they fans of rough, kinky sex and Uzui would never ask them to do anything they weren't comfortable with.

But his desire to fold a cutie underneath him and pound her till she was a crying, sobbing, blubbering mess- her ass red from his spankings, makeup running down her face as she begged Uzui to not force more orgasms onto her overstimulated body- wasn't something he could hide. So the four of them came to an agreement. His wives gave him permission to find someone who might scratch that itch for him, who'd be the submissive he needed. And the very day they had that conversation, Uzui met you. A couple of ranks below the Hashira but climbing the ladder pretty quickly, you were a formidable warrior oozing with talent and strength. You were one of the better fights in the corporation and he knew it was only a matter of time before you became a pillar. You were tasked with assisting him on a new mission to track down a dangerous demon. What was supposed to last till sundown was completed within a few hours, you and Uzui making a fantastic team. You tracked down the demon, avoided its traps and tricks and along with Uzui, the two of you cut off it's head. With time to spare and not having any other missions to finish, the two of you took refuge in the Wisteria inn.

After a nice soak at the hot springs, the two of you met up in your room to share some food and drinks. Cups clinked together as you both drank some nice sake, Uzui having convinced you to relax around him for tonight and to just enjoy yourself. Both of you dressed in soft, comfortable yukata's, the vibe quickly turned friendly as the alcohol allowed you to loosed up a bit around him.

"So, are you in a relationship with anyone?" Uzui asked you. "If I was, I wouldn't be in a room with you alone." you retorted. Uzui raised an eyebrow, "I have three wives you know and i'm in this room with you alone." "Oh yeah!" you said, having genuinely forgotten, feeling guilty for some reason, "I shall leave then. This might be seen as inappropriate-"

"Sit back down." Uzui ordered the second he saw you make a move to leave, smiling when you obeyed him, "My wives wouldn't mind. In fact, they've given me permission to pursue a fourth partner if I wanted to. So don't overthink it."

"Oh..." you said, not knowing what to make of that, "If you say so." Your heart skipped a beat over that news. You weren't blind to how ridiculously attractive Uzui was, the man a walking embodiment of sexy. He looked so good in his uniform but here, with his hair let down and wearing a loose Yukata, you had to avert your eyes more than once from his chest.

"So, assuming you had a partner, why did things end?"

"Huh? oh- uh- it's kind of embarrassing..."

"Hmm? Do tell~" Uzui said with a smirk, leaning back on an arm as he nestled his cup of sake in his hand, "I enjoy some gossip."

"Well, he..uh...he was kind of lousy in bed."

"Oh?"

"Yeah- like really bad. I don't think he made me satisfied even once."

"Oh, you poor thing." Uzui cooed as he took a sip, "That sounds frustrating."

"It was." You said with a nod, "Honestly, all the guys I've dated have been the same. And judging from the stories my other friends have told me, they face the same problem. Men just don't know how to please women."

"Well, I don't know what type of guys you've slept with," Uzui said with a smirk, "But I'm happy to say I do not lack in that department. You can't keep three wives without doing a satisfactory job."

"Hah! Yeah right." you said with a laugh, dismissing his brag, "I bet they're faking. Most men fail to satisfy one woman, let alone three."

"Perhaps. But I'm not most men." Uzui said, a twinge of annoyance in his voice over your bratty attitude, "with my stamina, it takes all three of them to drain my balls completely."

You hiccuped at his vulgar words, quickly gathering yourself before he could notice. Perhaps it was the alcohol that was making your bratty side come out, or maybe it was because of how comfortable you were around Uzui now, but either way, you couldn't control your tongue.

"Just because you have big muscles doesn't mean you have a big cock. And even if you do, I bet you don't know how to use it!"

"Oh yeah? And how are you so sure?" Uzui asked, "Pretty little thing like you- you wouldn't be able to last five minutes if I speared you on my dick."

"I bet I could handle you!" You said, hands on your hips, leveling Uzui with a glare.

"Really?" Uzui asked, a twinkle in his eye as he looked you up and down, heart skipping at the idea that he might have found someone to play with already, "You sound confident."

"I am." you said, puffing your chest out, an action Uzui enjoyed ogling at, "I bet I can rock your world and not even break a sweat! and I'd bet you'd not make me cum even once." Uzui laughed, a giant smile on his face before he patted his lap, legs crossed and inviting, "Come and prove it then."

"Wait- really?" you asked, not expecting that response. You were just teasing, hoping to annoy him a bit but- "Sure. Unless, you didn't mean it. Chickening out already?" the Hashira asked.

With a huff, your pride refusing to take a hit, you crawled over to Uzui and sat on his lap, your Yukata bunching a bit around your thighs as you straddled him.

"Feel that?" he asked, hands having a tight grip on your hips as he made you grind down against him. You bit down a squeal as you felt his hardness press against your core, gulping as you could tell how big he was even through the layer of clothing. You tried to keep level-headed, but Uzui could see right through your poor attempts.

"And you know what?" he asked, hands sliding from your hips to your ass, the man taking greedy handfuls of your pump skin as he groped you, making you gasp, "I'm only half hard~"

"L-Liar!" You said, unable to bite your tongue from responding. He already felt so big against you- and he was only halfway there?! Uzui laughed, before saying:

"Yeah? Why don't you check?" the man asked, quickly untying the sash around his Yukata before leaning back a bit on his arms, a look in his eyes that clearly meant he was challenging you. You gulped as the fabric started to move aside, giving you a generous peek of his sculpted torso. A big, wide body with washboard abs and big pecs, you had to stop yourself from drooling.

"What's wrong?" he asked, "Just going to keep looking? I thought you said you could handle me."

"I-I can!" You snapped, your pride not allowing you to back down, "You're so impatient."

Uzui's chuckle made the hairs on the back of your head prick up, a certain darkness to it. "You know, I'm keeping track of all the bratty comments you make. I can't wait till it bites you in the ass~"

"Sh-shut up!"

"That's another one~"

With a huff, you leaned forward against Uzui's leaning body, gulping as you gripped the folds of his yukata and pulled them apart, completely exposing his torso to you. Never being one to be so forward but also refusing to back down, you pressed you face against his neck and kissed it, your soft lips touching his fair skin. Uzui's groan of content could be felt on your lips as you slowly started kissing his body, a hand coming up to run up his abs. You slowly got more and more confident, your tongue peaking out to lick at his collarbone, your hips grinding down harder against his member. But your pride took a hit when Uzui suddenly started chuckling, making you frown and look up and him.

"Something funny?" you asked, annoyed.

"Yes. You. Kissing and touching me like a blushing virgin. Is this what you meant when you said you'd rock my world? Because if so, I'm not impressed."

You scoffed, cheeks heating up in embarrassment, "You- well excuse me for not being a whore like you-"

But before you could finish your sentence, one of Uzui's hand shot up, grabbed the back of your hair and pulled harshly, making you gasp as your neck was suddenly snapped back. "Watch that filthy mouth of yours." he said, cock twitching as he heard your gasps, "I think it's time I teach you who's in charge here."

"Y-you started it!" you gasped out, head paining from how he was pulling your hair, words hard to speak from how your neck was being stretched. Uzui simply clicked his tongue, "Still have an attitude. I'm afraid I don't have the patience to wait for you to move things along." His free hand expertly tugged at the sash of your yukata and ripped it off of you, making you gasp as your body was exposed to him, no time to feel shy as he tugged your head down and met you for a kiss. It was a greedy and feral lip lock, Uzui immediately massaging your tongue with his own, dominating the kiss effortlessly.

Maybe you did bite off more than you could chew.

But damn, if you weren't excited.

"I've been wanting to bend your bratty ass over my knee and teach you a good lesson every since you opened your mouth." Uzui growled as he bit your lower lip, making you yelp, "Telling me you'll rock my world when you blush like a virgin when you grind on my dick- how adorable."

"That's not- I-" you tried to protest, not knowing what you were protesting in the first place.

"Shut up." Uzui said, kissing you again before picking you up with one hand, your legs wrapped around his waist with his hand under your butt. "We're going to the bedroom." he said, easily carrying you towards said room, "It's time I teach you some manners. And remember, five minutes are on the clock."

Uzui got you to cum in three minutes.

Once he threw you on the bed, he ripped your Yukata off, followed by your undergarments, leaving you completely naked. He shrugged off the fabric he had on as well, his cock springing out of its confines and you swear you forgot how to breathe for a second.

How on earth did you have the audacity to joke that his dick wasn't big? It was a monster of a member, long and thick with heavy balls dangling between his legs. You gulped as he crawled onto the bed, looking down at you like a predator stalking its prey. He grabbed your legs and spread them apart, exposing your sex to him. Gripping you on the back of your thighs, he pushed you enough to make your body bend, your cunt exposed to him even more obscenely.

"U-Uzui-san!" you squealed, face red hot at the way he was staring at your cunt.

"Daddy."

"Wha-"

"You're going to call me Daddy." he explained, licking his lips as he leaned down, his mouth inching towards your sex, "and Daddy needs to prepare your tiny pussy to take his fat cock."

And that's how you experienced the fastest orgasm of your life. Within three minutes, Uzui was drinking down your cum, the man's mouth and tongue so expertly pleasuring you, it was a clear loosing battle. He laughed into your cunt as you came, the vibration making your body tremble even more as he ate you out, paying extra attention to your clit as he took the sensitive bud into his mouth and sucked so hard, it almost made you cum again.

Once you were down from your high, once he looked down on you as he wiped your juices off his lips- you knew you were fucked.

"So," he said, picking up the sash of your yukata from where he discarded it before wrapping it a few times around his hand and making a show of pulling it tightly to make a 'crack' sound, "Remember how I mentioned I want to take you over my knee?"

~~~~~

"Say it."

"I- I don't w-want to-"

"Say it or I'll spank you all night."

With a sob, knowing full well he meant it, you had no choice but to relent, swallowing down your pride as you said:

"D-Daddy please stop spanking my n-naughty pussy!"

Head hanging upside down from how you were placed over Uzui's knee, the blood rushing to your ears almost made you miss the way Uzui groaned.

"Is your poor pussy in pain?" he cooed, petting said pussy. It was hot to the touch, your pussy lips dyed a bright red, matching your ass. A man of his word, he spanked you as punishment for your bratty behavior and comments, holding you still as he rained spanks down on your poor butt, your hands tied behind your back, unable to do anything about it. Once he was satisfied with marking up your ass, he spread your legs a bit and started spanking your pussy, laughing at the way you twitched and shook, your cries of pain only making his cock get harder.

He slapped your pussy again, making you squeal. "Answer me."

"Yes! Yes- m-my pussy hurts so much Daddy!"

"Aww, poor baby~" he said, raining tiny pats on your cunt repeatedly, not as hard but still enough to make your body tremble, "have you learned your lesson?"

"Yes Daddy!" you said with zero hesitation.

"Are you going to act like a brat again?"

"I won't, I p-promise! I'll be good-"

"That's my girl," Uzui said, cupping your pussy gently, the warmth of his hand against your sore, red cunt making you gasp, "But we're not done yet. Make sure you keep your promise, alright?"

~~~~~

"U-U-Uzui-s-san! S-slow down p-please!" you squealed, voice jumping as Uzui jack-hammered into you, his hips practically a blur as he pounded your pussy. Fucking you from behind, he ignored your cries as he brought a leg up to better fuck you, laughing at your yelp and the way your pussy clamped around him.

"That's not my name," he growled, the grip he had on your hips bruising as he bashed his cock into your poor cunt, "What's. My. Name?" He spanked your ass three times to put emphasis on his words, your body jumping with each hit. Tears filled your eyes from the burn, no doubt a bright, red hand-print left behind on your already red skin. The burn of Uzui's hips slapping against you took your breath away, your poor spanked ass and pussy not getting a break.

"D-Daddy!" you cried out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Uzui showed no signs of slowing down- if anything you felt his cock grow bigger inside you- "Daddy please- please- please slow down? P-Please!"

"Shhh, you can take it, right?" Uzui said, snickering as a hand grabbed the back of her head and pushed, smothering your face against the mattress, "Didn't you say you could handle me? Where'd your fight go?"

Your sobs were muffled by the cloth, his grip on your head unrelenting. You gripped the bed-sheets so hard veins were popping out on your hands, hands no longer tied up, your tears soaking into the mattress. The lack of air only made your body get even more sensitive, your pussy clamping down harder against Uzui's fat cock.

"You were such a fucking brat-" Uzui growled, feeling the familiar knot in his abdomen start to tighten, "Talking such big- fuck that's good- such big game! Saying you could take me- but look at you now. Pathetic~"

He gripped your hair and pulled, ignoring your cry of pain as your neck snapped back, your body following the movement until you were upright on your knees, Uzui's firm body pressed against your back. With a laugh, he let go of your hair only to then catch you in a choke-hold. His huge biceps pressed against your neck, restricting your airways, the man snickering at your feeble attempt to grab him. You were held up by his arm around your throat and his cock slamming against you, completely at his mercy, as you were the entire night.

"I like them pathetic~" Uzui growled into your ear before giving your lobe a bite, pulling on it with his teeth, making you squeal. Your face was turning a bright red, your mouth wide open and eyes rolling to the back of your head. The force of his thick member splitting apart your poor pussy combined with the warmth of his body behind you and the tight feeling of his arm against your neck- you never felt like this before:

Completely and utterly fucked.

You had already cum three times, the man fingering you to your orgasm after he spanked you and fucking you to climax out when he stuffed you with his cock.

Being wrong never felt so good.

His hips kept working into you, the slap of his balls against your cunt so obscene, you could still hear it despite the blood flowing around your head. One hand gripping his biceps while the other went back to grab at his thrusting hip, you held on for dear life, thoughts leaving your head as you sunk into a mental state where all you could think about was Uzui.

"Ooh~ That's what I like to see~" Uzui groaned, the expression on your face making his sadistic side purr in happiness. Seeing you completely fucked out and at his mercy- this is what he needed- this is what he craved.

"Fucked the brat right out of you, didn't I?" the man said, reveling in his accomplishment, "What was it you said to me? I can't satisfy one woman, let alone three? Hmm? Hmm?"

With a slap to your thigh, you yelped as Uzui's free hand went between your legs, his rough finger starting to twirl your clit around. "Daddy- no- too sensitive!" you pleaded, body twitching underneath his hold as you felt spikes of pleasurable pain run through you as he toyed with your sensitive bud, "Please- i'm sorry! I'm- ah- sorry!"

"Sorry for what?" Uzui growled, pinching your clit so hard it made you scream, "Be specific you naughty little brat!"

"I'm sorry f-for making fun of you!" you confessed, "Sorry for saying you're not g-good in bed- you're amazing- fuck- ah- ah!"

"All it takes is some cock to get to behave, hmm?" Uzui snarled.

"Daddy- i'm gonna cum- can I cum? Please?" you begged, knowing well from last time that he expected you to ask for permission. "Go ahead." Uzui said, hand working your clit even faster, "Greedy slut. Cumming four times while Daddy hasn't even cum once. You better make it up to me."

He chocked you even harder, veins popping in his muscles as he took your breath away, literally. The lack of air made your body go into overdrive, face red as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Within seconds, you squirted all over his cock, the first time you ever experienced that, liquid gushing out of your pussy, dripping down both your bodies before seeping into the mattress. Uzui held your trembling body down, letting out a cheeky whistle as his hips didn't relent, fucking your orgasm for every single drop.

"Fuck! That was so fucking hot!" Uzui said with a laugh, "You're going to do that again." You could do nothing as he pushed you back onto the bed, your limbs having no strength to hold you up as you fell flat on your stomach, just lying down on the bed. But that seemed to be what Uzui wanted, the man following you as he lied down on top of you and started fucking you pro bone. You sobbed as his cock somehow went even deeper, slamming against your womb mercilessly. The weight on his body on you coupled with the ravenous feeling of his member fucking you within an inch of your life almost made you black out.

"Daddyyy!" you cried out, tears streaming down your cheeks as your pussy was pounded, "C-Can't cum anymore- please-" You probably said 'please' more time tonight that you had in your entire life. "You think you're done?" Uzui growled, hips not loosing their rhythm as he chased his pleasure, your pussy so wet and hot, he had to focus real hard to not climax immediately. It was only thanks to his training as a demon slayer that he could last this long- his breathing techniques allowing him to delay his orgasm as much as possible. If he was a normal man, no doubt he would have came ages ago. But it was thanks to his trained body that he could keep going which was good, because he wasn't done punishing you.

"No. You're done when I say so, understand?" You sobbed as a response. "You're done when I empty my balls inside this perfect pussy of yours and breed you- got it?" "Y-Yes Daddy." "That's a good girl. Don't pass out on me now, alright? I'll keep fucking you anyway."

~~~~~

You woke up the next morning, every inch of your body in pain and sore, especially your pussy which took load after load of Uzui's cum. You lost count how many times you came, the rest of the night being a blur and you remembered nothing but him breeding you. At some point he caught you in a mating press and fucked you so hard you swore you temporarily blacked out, waking up only to feel him fill your womb up again.

You sat up on the bed, looking to the side and scoffed at your reflection in the nearby mirror. You looked like a mess. Exhaustion was clear on your face, your eyes sunken from the tears you cried, hair a mess and your naked body littered with bite marks and hickies. You looked at your partner, the man looking the complete opposite. Silky white hair draped over his pillow, his skin clear and glowing with a soft smile on his handsome face.

You had an urge to smack his pretty face, annoyed at how much he wrecked your body despite the fact that you enjoyed every second of it. He truly brought out something in you and it was scary- but damn it was fun.

Deciding to listen to your intrusive thoughts, you raised your hand up to smack him, when he suddenly opened his eyes, greeted to the image of you with your hand raised. Thinking quickly on your feet, you gulped and blinked your eyes as you slowly brought your hand down to cup his cheek lovingly, rubbing it sweetly like that was your plan all along.

"...Because I wrecked your body last night, I'll let this slide." Uzui said, grasping your hand with his own before placing a gentle kiss on it, "But I won't be so nice next time."

"So there's gonna be a next time?" you asked with a smile, plopping down against his broad chest.

"Of course." Uzui said, running a gentle hand through your hair, "You belong to Daddy now."

[justnatoka]

Actions...

Poly! The Lost Boys x GN! Reader

Word count: 1.9k

Warning: slight physical violence (manager grabs reader's arm), verbal abuse

Prompt: “Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?” / “Yes.” / “What if I just break his nose a little?”

Summary: The boys have been coming to the diner you’re waiting tables at for a while. Your manager is not a fan. One night things escalate.

Part 1/2

Next Part

The bell chimed above the door, signaling the arrival of new customers. You looked up after placing the food in front of an older couple, and a bright smile lit up your face as you saw the group of four that just walked in. David and his gang have been coming to the diner for months now. They showed up one night, seemingly curious about the new place that had just opened on the boardwalk. You took their order, they made a few flirty remarks, you flirted right back, and that was it. They obviously took a liking to you and have been coming back every other night. It was honestly the highlight of your day, your stomach flipping in excitement every time. Even if they barely ordered anything, they still spent hours there, and you made an effort to go over to them and chat when work got slower and you had some time.

Your manager clearly didn’t like that. He complained before that they make other customers uncomfortable – although it didn’t seem that way to you –, and chastised you for encouraging them to spend so much time there. He made it a point to give you meaningless tasks so you wouldn’t have time for them, making them leave quicker. He had also been making snide remarks about them and glaring at their table to the point that they started noticing it.

You could basically hear him rolling his eyes from behind the counter as you walked up to their booth and greeted them.

“Hey guys, long time no see,” you joked.

“Hi babe, did you miss us?” Paul purred resting his head in his hand, giving you a dreamy look.

“Maybe,” you smiled coyly. “Maybe not. Who knows?”

“You’re such a tease,” he pouted, but his eyes were smiling.

“You know you like it, Paulie.”

“Oh, I absolutely love it,” he grinned right back at you.

You chuckled. “What can I get you guys? The usual?”

“Can I have you for dinner, sugar? I promise I’ll be gentle. Unless you don’t want me to,” Marko said with a shit eating grin on his face.

“You and gentle are on two different planets when it comes to eating, Marko. Babe, if I were you, I wouldn’t let his teeth near me.”

Marko swatted at Paul, who grabbed a menu to shield himself. “Shut up, dude. You’re no better either. You make even bigger messes than I do.”

“Not true.”

“Who complained about his pants getting ruined just a few days ago? Again.”

“Come on, man, that was one time.”

“Like I said. Again.”

“Yeah? Well you-“

“Boys,” David interjected before it could get any more out of hand. “How about we order already?” His tone sounded casual, but there was an edge to it that caused the other two to begrudgingly back down. It was a good thing too. Some of the other customers were already staring at the commotion, shuffling uncomfortably in their seats and whispering among themselves. You could feel your manager practically glaring holes into the back of your head.

They proceeded to give you their orders one by one, and after writing them down and sending them one last smile, you went to relay the orders to the cook. That’s when your manager walked up to you, his stormy expression promising nothing good.

“I need to talk to you for a second,” he stated.

Holding back an eye roll you nodded, “Sure.”

“I told you before that they are not welcome here,” he started, sending a glance towards their table. “Tell those punks to behave or they’ll get kicked out. This is a respectable establishment. We don’t want some hooligans bringing down our reputation.”

You wondered whether he had the balls to do the kicking out himself, but all you said aloud was “Yes, sir.”

When you brought out their food, Dwayne caught your wrist to get your attention.

“Is he giving you trouble again?” He motioned with his eyes towards the kitchen, and you looked to see your manager staring out the little window cut into the door.

“It’s fine, nothing I can’t deal with,” you huffed, frustration evident in your voice. Dwayne gave you a concerned look but nodded, trusting your word.

“Thanks for checking in with me though,” you added, feeling a little bashful all of a sudden, not really used to people caring this much about your well-being.

“Of course,” he smiled back at you.

After giving them their food, you wanted to stay and chat for a bit more, seeing as there weren’t many customers, but you could still feel the glare of your manager so you thought better of it. You went back behind the counter and started wiping it down.

You busied yourself with other tasks for a while, refilling a few coffee cups and making small talk while doing so, cleaning up tables after customers left and taking the orders of new arrivals. Even so, you kept stealing glances at them, blushing when you caught David already looking at you a few times. You noticed that he had a habit of following you around with his eyes while you were working, and although you were slightly unnerved at first, now it felt reassuring to know that he was constantly watching over you.

Tearing your eyes from him you wondered, not for the first time, what their life might be like outside these nightly visits. As much as you’ve gotten to know them these past few months, they were still an enigma in a sense. You haven’t seen them around town during the day before, and every time you asked questions about their background, they skillfully redirected the conversation. So you stopped inquiring, afraid that your prodding will drive them away. For now, you were satisfied with just having them here every other night, brightening up your shift with some light flirting and laughter.

Speaking of laughter, you looked up at the sound of a commotion, only to see Marko dodging a fry chucked at his head by Paul and quickly countering with an attack of his own. Paul barely had time to hold up his menu, the handful of fries bouncing off its surface and onto the seat between them, some of it dropping to the floor. He just let down his impromptu shield, when an onion ring landed right in the middle of his face. The whole table burst out laughing, and he was pointing an accusatory finger at Dwayne, who was shrugging his shoulders with a grin. David was leaning back, watching the food fight with amusement, sipping on his drink.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at their antics, not even bothered that you will have to clean up the mess they created. You headed to the back to get a broom, already thinking about a witty line to tell them off. You just turned around to go back out there, when your manager grabbed your arm. Startled, you let go of the broom and it loudly clattered to the floor.

As you looked into his eyes, you saw that he was seething.

“You tell these low-lives to get the hell out of here right now. Enough is enough. They are loud, not respecting other customers, and now they are making a huge mess by throwing food around. I’ve had it up to here with all this. If they keep coming back I’ll have to do something about it,” he hissed at you, then gave you a look which made you feel like dirt under his shoe. “It would also help a lot if you weren’t encouraging them. Batting your eyelashes like a common whore. You think I couldn’t replace you within a few days? You need to start behaving like a professional or so help me I’ll kick you to the curb.”

His grip on you was tightening with each word, and you tried not to flinch. You’ve never seen him so angry before and it was starting to scare you.

“I’m just trying to be friendly with the customers…”

He wasn’t having any of it. “Enough with the fucking excuses. You go over there and tell them to get out right now.”

“Yes, sir,” you squeaked out and as soon as he let you go, you rushed out of there, broom forgotten on the floor.

David was already looking at you when you approached them. His eyes were on you the second you stepped out of the door, his mood darkening as he took you in. Dwayne picked up on it as well, following his gaze to you. He became alert when he saw your stiff posture, your fingers nervously fidgeting with your apron.

“Hey, dollface,” Paul greeted you with a radiant smile, “have you tried this milkshake before? It’s fucking amazing.”

His grin instantly disappeared from his face when you didn’t smile back.

“Everything okay, babe?” he asked, a bit unsure.

You gave him a sigh before you spoke, “I’m sorry, guys, but you have to leave.” There was silence at the table.

“He did this to you?” Marko’s voice was cold as he asked while staring at your arm, where a bruise was already starting to form.

“Marko, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” you tried and failed to calm him down. He looked like he was fuming, ready to explode.

“Sweetheart, that’s not nothing,” Dwayne spoke up next, his jaw tight.

David didn’t say anything, but he was glaring down your manager with such intensity, that you saw him scramble back into the kitchen from the corner of your eye.

“I wanna punch him in the face,” Marko stated, and you had no doubt that he would if you let him.

“Please don’t. I need this job to pay my bills,” you sighed. You were getting exhausted at this point, and just wanted this shift to be over.

“Has he done this before? Hurt you?” Paul asked the question all of them wanted to know the answer to.

“No, he just likes to remind me that I’m a failure,” you smiled wryly. “But it’s nothing I can’t deal with. I promise.”

“Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?” Marko repeated, this time with the corner of his mouth turning upward into a little smirk.

“Yes.”

“What if I just break his nose a little?” Now he was full on grinning.

You snorted. “Man, I would pay money to see that! But like I said, I really need this job. And if you do break his nose, even just a little bit, I’m sure as hell getting fired.”

David finally spoke up. “Alright, we won’t cause you any more trouble. Let’s go, boys.”

They all stood up, filing out one by one, each of them sending death stares towards your manager peeking through the kitchen door. You watched their retreating figures through the window for a second longer, already dreading how much more boring your shifts are going to be from now on if they don’t come back.

Out in the parking lot Dwayne turned to David. “We’re going to do something about this, right?”

“Yes, we’re definitely doing something about it.” He sent a smirk to the others, and as they silently communicated down the plan, they began grinning as well. They got on their bikes, and with a lot of heavy revving, they sped off into the night. It was a promise for later.

[spliffymae]

forgotten connie drabble (18+ mdni)

★　*　　°　　　　🛰 　°. 🌓　•　　.°•　　　🚀

“SURPRISE!”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY CONNIE!”

you moved to the side once you were inside, coming in behind the man of the hour himself. sasha had been running rampant to throw him an amazing surprise party. and you were in on it, tasked with bringing connie home from work and acting as if you know nothing about what the current day was.

which proved to be hard the second connie got into your car after putting his bag in the back seat. “ahh shit! they got mi cielita to take me out. where we going, mami?” connie was grinning ear to ear as he looked at you, dimples popping below red freckled cheeks.

he was so cute, and you were gonna hate to do this but, “what’re you on about, springer?” you scrunched your face up in confusion at him. you then quickly looked ahead to pull out the parking lot. if you looked at him for too long you were sure you’d crack.

connie rolled his eyes, not buying your ignorance. “oh stop that, y’know what i’m talking bout.” he said as he buckled himself in and then reclined the passenger seat.

with the strongest will you could muster, you kept up the confusion, looking back at him and with a quirked brow, “you got a game or sum?” you asked, knowing damn well he had nothing going on today. his birthday happened to land on the off day for ball practice AND track practice, not to mention he didn’t have class either.

now, when sasha told you to act like you forgot that his birthday was today, she failed to mention to you that it was something connie’s mother had done plenty of times in his life…not as a joke, though.

connie really cared about four women in his life: you, sasha, his little sister, and his mom. so you forgetting his day took a pin to his bubble and popped the fuck out of it. he didn’t dwell on the subject anymore, changing to now talk about your days. however, connie was feeling down on the inside. all his friends had wished him a happy birthday either via call, text, or social media post. have you not been on your phone today?

when you pulled up to his and sasha’s shared apartment, you flashed him a smile but it was not reciprocated. connie was staring ahead, zoned out in thought. so much so he doesn’t feel you turn the car off or hear you call his name.

“con” you pushed his shoulder slightly, getting him to snap out of his own head.

“hm?”

“we’re at your place. is it cool if i come up to use the bathroom?” you usually wouldn’t say anything and invite yourself into his apartment. days when you’d get him we’re days you set aside to hang with him. but today seems to be different. connie wondered if you had made plans that made you forget about his birthday.

“uh yeah, sure.” he said lowly. he reached back to grab his backpack and with that, got out the car. you could see the defeat in his walk towards the doors. he was mumbling to himself, more times trying to dissect what the hell was going on with you. because you wouldn’t just forget, right?

you got out the car and sped walk to catch up, sending sasha a quick text to let her know yall were back. you also cussed her for telling you to do this to connie, knowing how pouty he gets.

the walk to the elevator was quite, along with you two getting off at his floor and going to his apartment. however, before connie turned the key he put into the lock, he turned to you. his eyes were glossed over and cheeks dusted with a crimson red. he was chewing on his bottom lip, hazel eyes filled with worry. “did i do something, mami? you mad at me?”

and oh my god you wanted to break the act right there…but you were RIGHT THERE.

you blinked, “what do you mean, con? why would i be?” you wanted him to just open the door. once he opened the door you could drop the act, you could give him all the birthday love you were holding in since midnight.

connie let out a sigh and turned back around, giving up on the matter and turning the lock to go in. the day was no longer felt good. what good was a birthday if the one person he wanted to spend it with forgot about it?

when the door opened, connie walked inside and turned on the light and was immediately met with screams, cheers, and camera lights in his face.

which brings us here, to where he freezes and looks around at his friends from his basketball team, work, childhood, and sasha standing in the middle with a cake.

connie spent a good couple seconds taking everything in, he was slightly embarrassed to say once he believed you had forgotten he immediately forgot the day, choosing to just wallow in his room as he smoked a spliff.

you took a step forward, hands behind your back and coming up on his right. “happy birthday, connie.” you bumped him with your hip, once again snapping him out of his own head and bringing him back to the present.

the big, toothy smile he had in your car came back, now decorated with deep dimples and eyes watery with tears of appreciation.

just as he was about to say something to you, jean pulled him away, leaving you two with an unfinished conversation.

•　　.°•

you were talking to sasha in the kitchen as connie was socializing with all his guests. he hadn’t had the chance to come back to you just yet, but you weren’t worried. you didn’t plan on going anywhere.

“i told you! he’s so brain dead when it comes to you that he’ll completely forget everything. did you see how lost he looked when he saw us?” sasha was so happy that her plan had turned out well. she knew her best friend well enough to know it wasn’t going to take a lot to get his mind off his literal day of birth. not when you were the one thing that stayed on his mind and could pull his attention from anything.

you playfully rolled your eyes, “i still hated seeing how sad he looked. why didn’t you tell me i was damn near triggering him?!” you were nursing your second cup of a mimosa, slightly tipsy.

sasha giggled. she, on the other hand, had been four shots in from when you guys came in. “i forgot. but it’s all good now. oop—here he comes.” before you knew it, sasha had stepped away and now connie was in your space.

his eyes were low and bloodshot, having just come back from a hotbox with his guys in the car. “mami, you really are sum special.” he grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together and pulling you to be flush against him.

you smiled, “sasha made me, pa. you know i would never forget your day.” you traced his lips with your finger, your acrylic nail going along his prominent cupids bow. connie held your hand still and kissed your finger, then moved your hand so it was at the back of his head. it brought you closer into his space, his cologne taking over your senses. he loweeeed his head to touch yours, looking in your eyes.

“¿dónde está mi regalo, princesa? his hands trailed up from your waist to your back, to your elbow and then shoulder. he tucked one of your locs behind your ear, staring at you as if you held both the moon and the stars. “i been dying to unwrap it” his eyes were scanning all over your face, taunting you with his hidden meaning.

“quiero mi pastel, ma. soy hambriento.” he undid the button with ease, bringing you to gasp and instinctively grip the small curls on the back of his neck.

“later.” you said softly, giving him a sweet smile to match. but connie smirked with wickedness, red eyes gleaming of mischief. his hand trailed back down to the waistband of your baggy pants.

“c-con.” you could feel his long and slender fingers pad over your core. he pressed his index and his middle against your clit, sending a jolt up your spine. “this party’s for you.” you bit your lip when you felt him move them in a circular motion, the wetness of your pussy dampening your panties.

“it’s my birthday, right? i can do whatever i want, right?” you were gonna answer, but then he pushed your panties to the side. he had rubbed your lips to collect your slick on his fingers, and slowly began to push them inside of you. your mouth opened, but no words came out.

“oh princesa, did you forget how to talk? just like how you forgot papi’s birthday?” he tsked, shaking his head, “made me so sad. y’know” the force of his thrusts picked up, knocking you back to grip the edge of the counter behind up. “a mean joke you guys pulled on me.”

“pa…i-i can’t be quiet” you panicked, looking at connie with worrisome eyes. he knew you were a screamer, fuck it was what he loved about you. pleasure would overwhelm you quick and all your composure would go flying out the window. you got animalistic when you’d approach your peak, and connie never missed the chance to see it. but today, you were doing your best to show restraint the clench of your jaw let him know you really wanted to get it out but were resisting.

connie took his other hand to rub a thumb on your clit, turning his ears off to anything that wasn’t your faulty breaths or straggled moans. “hm…guess i forgot.”

[greenorangevioletgrass]

give me a minute (2/2) | chef luca

pairing: chef luca x ex-wife!reader word count: 6.6k warnings: established former relationship, discussions of separation and divorce, discussions of moving on, luca and reader has a son, brief mention of blood and minor injury, smut 18+ (fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, size kink? idk luca's big, dirty talk, creampie) notes: it's finally here! thank you everyone for your patience, i am a slow writer by nature and life gets in the way, but i finally got around to finish it! happy reading, and do comment, reblog, and send me asks to tell me what you think <;3 ✨follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notifications to get alerted for my latest fics ✨

<<< read part 1 here >>>

06.13 PM

Your apartment has never felt so claustrophobic after that little moment you shared with Luca. You try to stay busy in the next hour —tidying up Alfie’s room even after he made it up, checking your email four times, even doing the laundry, for fuck’s sake— as Luca keeps to himself in the kitchen area. Whether Alfie is obliviously enjoying his screen time or purposely ignoring the weird tension between his parents, you’re not entirely sure. Right now, you’re just grateful that he’s not saying anything at the moment.

The boy simply creeps up to the kitchen counter with a shy eagerness about him. “How long ‘til dinner, Dad?”

“3 more minutes, Chef,” Luca answers, focused on the task at hand, so poker-faced that it makes his son giggle.

“I’m not a chef, you’re a chef!”

“Well, where I work, we call everyone in the kitchen ‘chef.’ Out of respect.”

Alfie climbs onto the dining bench in interest, peering up to watch his father set the dish on the plates meticulously. Luca doesn’t miss how the boy deeply inhales the delicious smell in the air.

“Smells yummy.”

“Thank you,” Luca replies, his excitement seems muted although his heart is soaring. He looks up to find Alfie staring at the plate, chin propped up on his little fist. You’ve always said that he looks just like his dad, but in that moment, Luca only sees you. Alfie has the way your mouth tugs ever so slightly into a smile, the way your eyes shine in childlike wonder. In quiet thoughtfulness.

No Michelin star, earned or retained, would ever amount to this.

“Can you go get your mum and tell her dinner’s ready, please?” He softly asks Alfie, as if not wanting to disrupt this peaceful silence. “Thank you, Chef.”

“Yes, chef.” The six-year-old salutes him and pads over to your home office, which doubles as the guest bedroom. The door is open, and he sees you reorganizing the linen closet with your back to him. He hugs you from behind, startling you.

“Oh!” You put your hand on his head, stroking him lightly. “Hey, bub.”

“Daddy told me to come get you and say dinner’s ready.”

“Gotcha. Thank you.” You half-expect him to run off like he usually does, but he lingers, his arms still wrapped around you. “What’s up, bubbie?”

“Nothing.” He buries his face against your side. “Love you, Mommy.”

“I love you too, bubbie.” This makes you smile, pleasantly surprised at this seemingly random admission.

“Love Daddy too, but don’t tell him that,” he whispers as he looks up at you, putting his forefinger in front of his mouth.

“Why not?”

“Sometimes he gets sad when I say that,” he murmurs. “He doesn’t tell me, but I know it.”

Oh. His playful exterior sometimes makes you forget just how emotionally sensitive he is. And it breaks your heart that he can see through the complicated adult emotions with his childlike eyes. 

“Alfie…” you level with him and pull him closer, “Your dad loves you very very much, and I’m sure he’d be happy to hear you say that. He’s just sad because… he’s been away, and he misses you a lot.”

“He should come home, then.”

It’s so simple, the way Alfie puts it. His Dad comes home and reunites with him and you, and his puzzle would piece together perfectly again. And you all live happily ever after. The end.

The truth, of course, is not so simple. But maybe, just for tonight… Maybe you and Luca can sacrifice a few of your own puzzle pieces. For your baby boy.

So you get back on your feet and guide your son out of the room. “Come on, bub. Let’s see what Daddy cooked for us, hm?”

When you and Alfie turn the corner into the kitchen-living area, Luca is wiping the side of the plate neatly. He smiles at you somewhat nervously, like he’s not sure what to do with himself, so you throw him the figurative olive branch.

“Smells amazing,” you compliment him as you and Alfie take your seats. “What are we having, Chef?”

Luca’s eyes light up and your heart stops. You stopped calling him ‘Chef’ long ago, when the moniker became synonymous with workaholism and neglect. But there’s no venom in the way you say it tonight. Call him sentimental, but it reminds him of the early summer days in the tiny apartment you first shared in Chicago.

Of blueberry pies and barely there bumps.

He has to remind himself that this whole ‘happy family’ shtick is just a charade now, it’s all for Alfie, it doesn’t mean anything for the two of us, but he can’t help but miss this.

And little does he know, so do you.

“Well, buckle up, you guys, because we are having…” He carries the plates over and serves it to you and Alfie with a flourish, “Baked sweet potato wedges with Mediterranean dip, and our pièce-de-résistance… Alfie’s Nuggies.”

It looks nothing short of beautiful, with the wedges fanned out like autumn leaves underneath a colorful burst of cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, olives, and feta cheese. The chicken nuggets are rich golden brown against the brilliant white plate. The splatters of sauce (is that Tahini?) is a hint of thoughtful chaos on the dish.

Your six-year-old let out a little noise of awe and amazement next to you, but no sound escapes you—not for the longest time.

“This is…” you look up at Luca as if he would have the word you’re looking for.

But his blue eyes just look a lot like I love you.

“Thank you,” you ultimately say, with absolutely no pretense whatsoever.

And if he does hear an ‘I love you’ hidden somewhere in there… he hopes he’s not imagining things.

*** 

08:37 PM

If you could travel just a few hours back in time and tell yourself that you would spend the whole day stuck at home in a nasty storm with your son and his father that you’re divorcing—and that you’d be okay with it, you would’ve probably scheduled yourself an MRI scan because clearly something is wrong.

But the night is winding down. Luca is tucking Alfie into bed for the first time in months. You are washing dishes in the quiet accompaniment of steady rain and running water, and everything feels just right.

“He’s out like a light,” Luca informs you quietly as he reemerges from Alfie’s bedroom and stops right by the kitchen counter. “Need a hand?”

“Nah, I’m just about done,” you casually wave him off. “You want anything to drink?”

“Uh… what do you got?”

“Scotch, gin…” you pause, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. The sink tap squeaks a little as you shut it off. “...wine.”

His heart skips. Don’t overthink it, he reminds himself. “Red or white?”

“Take your pick,” you shrug nonchalantly. 

Luca reaches up to see the bottles of wine you have in store, and you try not to pay too much attention as his shirt rides up around the waist—or the sleeve, showing off the remnants of Alfie’s crayon work over his inks… you’re just two co-parents hanging out. It’s normal, right?

“What about the Malbec?” he eventually chooses, taking out the bottle.

He’s always loved Malbec—this particular brand of Malbec you brought him when he first invited you for dinner on your third date.

Don’t overthink it, you remind yourself. “Yeah, sure.”

You pick up two wine glasses and set them down on the dining table, shuffling into the corner bench. Luca settles into the other bench, directly against the kitchen counter, pouring the wine onto both glasses.

“How many bedtime stories did Alfie manage to get out of you?” you pipe up, swirling the purplish liquid around.

“Just one…” he sips on his wine thoughtfully. “Although he made me read it three times.”

You smile, bemused. “Which one was it?”

“‘The Bear Who Did.’”

“Ah, yeah. He’s been into that one lately,” you muse. “But… for what it’s worth, I’m glad he asked you to tuck him in tonight.”

The two of you exchange a soft look. A ceasefire. A truce, at least when it comes to your son. Because you really do want Luca to have a good relationship with Alfie.

“Me too.”

“And I’m sorry you had to… make do with spending the day with Alfie here.”

He shakes his head softly. “Nah, don’t be. I had a good time. It’s nice to just hang out… at home.”

At home, the words echo in your head.

With you, they echo in his, loud and unsaid.

“So, uh… how have you been?”

“Ah, you know how it is. Work is kicking my ass—my current client’s only two blocks away, but the house is a total fixer-upper, and Alfie’s… Alfie.” You don’t want to backtalk your own son, although you both know how trying he can be sometimes. “But it’s all good. My mom helps out with Alfie, and Jess insists that I go out and live a little every now and again.”

“And do you? Live a little?”

“I mean, within reason. I can’t go clubbing ‘til 4am anymore. I think I’m getting old…” you stretch your arms, feeling that soreness just from your daily activities.

Luca grins, raising his glass. “I hear you. I don’t even really go out anymore.”

“Seriously?” 

“Mm-hm.”

You make an incredulous face. It would make sense for you not to go out much, with Alfie and everything. But he was alone, abroad… “Why, though?”

He just shrugs lightly. “I’m working. Whenever I’m off, I mostly just… eat or sleep.”

“I somehow find that hard to believe.” You take a dubious sip. You both know how much Luca enjoys grabbing a cheeky pint. He’s British; it’s in his blood, goddammit.

“Oh come on…”

“You don’t even go out drinking or whatever? Meet people?”

His gaze flashes towards you almost playfully. “Do you?”

Your face falls, not expecting to be caught so off-guard with such an innocent question. And upon seeing that, his face falls. Shit. And with that, the air between you shifts so dramatically.

Stupidly, you still try to save the conversation. “Of course my friends and I go out—”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” His voice darkens, his blue eyes piercing through you. 

This conversation is a long time coming. It’s a natural progression of your relationship—or the lack thereof. You separate, you get divorced, and eventually you move on. Two years is a more than acceptable time to start dating again. And still, you phrase out your next words very carefully.

“I’ve been on dates here and there…”

Luca sucks in a slow, calculated breath. “Does Alfie know?”

You shake your head. “It’s nothing serious so far.”

He’s not sure what’s worse, the fact that it’s nothing serious, or that you’re holding out for something serious in the future.

“Look, we both know this is happening sooner or later…”

“I know,” he quickly recovers—or as much as he can recover. He just stares down the stem of his glass.  “It just… It’s a lot to take in, that’s all.”

“I understand.” The wine feels like gravel down your throat, and the words coming out of your mouth feel like throwing up a boulder.

“Because I do miss you.”

Your eyes immediately dart over to his, as if you’re not sure you heard it right. “Luca…”

“I miss you everyday. I miss us. I miss everything we used to have.”

Your heart catches—no, stops altogether at his admission. “Luca, we can’t do this anymo—”

He swallows thickly, his jaw setting as he braces himself. “I’ve been thinking about it everyday—the whole time I’m away, and frankly, I’m kicking myself over not telling you this sooner.”

“That’s probably just the homesickness talking.” You turn away. This can’t be possible. This can’t be happening. What the fuck?! “It got you reminiscing about the good old days. Give it time, you’ll come around.” You try to maintain a neutral, distant, cold approach to this, although the crack in your voice betrays you.

“No. That’s not it.”

“Then what the fuck is it?”

Your words cut through the quiet apartment like a flash bang. Luca stops dead in his tracks in his shock, and honestly, so do you. Awful silence hushes over the room, and both of you are almost too afraid to break it. Neither of you even dare to move.

After what seems like forever, Luca moves first. A tear escapes his eye, and he wipes it away with his knuckle hurriedly. “Noma should’ve been a dream. And it is, in a way. I guess.” He stares blankly ahead, his life in Copenhagen replaying in his head like it’s on fast-forward, and the playback seems to just highlight how lonely he is there. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m utterly miserable there. I get up and go to work and I just feel empty. Because what’s the point? You and Alfie are way over here, being a family while I’m… doing what?” He wants to tear his hair out, because this is everything he’s dreamed of, and yet he is living the stuff of nightmares. “It makes no fucking sense.”

It makes even less sense to you. You can’t even begin to process this tangled mess in your head. “Luca… we are almost officially divorced. You’re telling me this now? When everything is—”

“I thought I was doing what was best for you. I thought I should just… let you cut your losses and—”

“The best for me? How the fuck did you think giving up was the best way forward for me?” The thought of it burns your eyes with angry tears. They melt, and you don’t do a thing to stop it from running down your face. “You didn’t think to fight for us while you still could?”

Luca’s heart aches to see that. He is dying to reach out and wipe them away, but he can’t. His voice is quiet and small and almost childlike. “I tried. You were just so… sure about the divorce. You had it all figured out. And I… I thought you had no room for me anymore.”

“I had to keep it together. I had to figure it out—for Alfie’s sake. For mine.” You stare at your little potted sunflower on the windowsill. “I don’t see the point in being vulnerable with you anymore when you’re already set on leaving.”

The words have run out. The whirlwind of emotions has passed. What he feels and what he wants is now very clear.

“I shouldn’t have left.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have.” You wished he didn’t. Everyday for the last two years. And everyday you set yourself up for disappointment because, the truth of the matter is, he did leave. So you stop wishing. “Because I don’t know how to come back from this. I really don’t.”

Nothing that comes out of your mouth is unexpected. But it doesn’t hurt any less to hear it from the horse’s mouth. “It’s just… seeing you guys today… We were a family again. And I would do anything for us to be a family again. Please.”

You sigh heavily. “What else is there to do, Luca…?”

“We can, I don’t know, figure something out, go to couples counseling—”

You groan in frustration, Jesus Christ not this again, wanting to tear your hair out when— CRASH! You accidentally knock over your wine glass and it shatters as it hits the floor. “Shit…”

“Mommy?” Alfie calls you from inside his room, sleepy but alert.

The two of you freeze just before you can move out of your seat. Afraid the slightest of noises would rattle your son.

“Yes, bubbie?” you try to sound bright and normal. Maybe if you can convince him that everything’s fine, he won’t come running in panic. 

“What was that?”

“I just knocked over a glass, kiddo, everything’s okay. Go back to sleep.”

You and Luca wait a few seconds with bated breath. One, two, three… ten seconds go by, and there’s no movement in the bedroom.

The coast is clear.

You scramble down to pick up the shards of glass. The spilled wine looks like blood in the dim light of the room. It’s a painful reminder of the broken pieces of your former life, the casualties. He quickly follows suit, as if struggling to put it all back together. The irony is not lost on either of you, you’re sure of that.

“It’s fine, Luca. I got it, I—” a sharp piece of glass accidentally cuts your palm as you pick it up in hurry. “Fuck!”

“You okay?” He takes your hand as quick as lightning, wanting to inspect the wound, but you snatch it away.

“I’m fine.” You get up on your feet, teetering over to the sink, away from the crime scene, careful not to step on any piece of glass.

Yet he still follows you, walking over to where you’re standing now. “Come on. Let me just take a look.” He reaches out to your wrist, running little circles with his thumb to ease your grasp.

“It’s not a big deal…” you let him look anyway, you figure it’s easier to just let him do his thing than to argue your way out of it. 

His calluses are brittle against your palm, but he handles you with the gentlest touch. The wound is not too big or too deep, but the sight of blood marring your palm makes his heart drop. There’s no visible piece stuck to it, that’s a good sign, he thinks. He rips off some paper towel and wets it on the sink, and softly dab at the gash, cleaning the wound and wiping the blood off.

You grit your teeth, not wanting to show any sign of pain although it stings. “It’s just a little cut…” your tone bears less and less conviction, as if you have no energy left to argue with him on such a small matter.

There’s a very particular way his eyebrows arch when he’s deep in thought. The left one always sits slightly higher than the right. Blue eyes fixed on the object of his focus. A minute gesture behind the chaos in his head. “You need a Band-Aid,” he points out. 

“It’s in the—”

Luca is already opening the drawer next to the stove, taking out a packet of a Star Wars-themed Band-Aid. He still remembers where everything is, and you can’t tell whether the ache in your chest is a good or bad thing.

He puts the Band-Aid on your cut, then takes your hand close to kiss it better, like he used to do.

“Um.” You freeze in your tracks, taken aback. And it seems he’s just as equally as taken aback by his own action. He is flushed with embarrassment, and you feel your face growing hot as well.

He’s the first to break the awkward silence, quiet and tentative. “I’ll clean up the mess. You just hang tight.”

It seems so mundane, sweeping broken glass and cleaning the floor. His body registers it as a simple muscle memory—he must’ve cleaned up messes on this very spot a million times. But his heart is heavy with the burden of your history, and all the pain that comes with your separation. He might not be able to put the pieces back together, but maybe he can clean up the mess and make it nice again for you.

And all the while, you’re stuck to the kitchen counter, watching him so effortlessly reacquainted with his former home. It’s as if he never left. For a confusing moment, it feels like home again. How did you manage without this view, this presence for so long?

Luca puts away the debris in the trash, hidden away in another kitchen drawer next to you, and hovers in front of you, as if wanting to reach out and touch you… but too afraid you’ll push him away.

“Does it still hurt?”

You can’t tear your eyes off of his. The little cut on your hand is but a dull ache now, but the insides of your chest feels like it’s been mangled beyond repair. You burst into tears, sobs ripping through the seams.

His arms wrap around you, keeping your tattered pieces together. Your face is buried in his chest, surrounded by soft cotton and earthy perfume, and your first thought is you can’t remember the last time you were in his arms like this. You rake your mind through all the memories, all the times you hugged each other hello and goodbye and all the times in between, and you can’t remember the last time you stopped, why would you stop—

“My love…” Luca’s voice soothes you, so quietly murmured against your forehead with a soft kiss, yet rings so clear in your ears. He cups your face with both hands, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “It’s okay... I got you.”

The palm of his hand grazes your lips, and you kiss it the way he kisses your Band-Aid earlier. You have no energy left to fight whatever is going on inside you. You don’t understand the nagging urge to be away from him, when being close to him feels this good. You miss his touch and his voice and his face, and you’re so overwhelmed with longing that you close the distance between your lips and his.

Luca gasps when you kiss him—and it feels like the first breath he’s drawn in two years. Your lips are just as he remembers, just as warm and inviting and familiar, and he relishes coming home to them tonight. He didn’t think he would be so lucky ever again, but now you’re here, kissing life back into him again.

Against your better judgment, you stumble into the bedroom, careful to make as little sound as possible as you tread down the hallway. Still tangled in each other. Refusing to let go even for a second. His five o’clock shadow scratches your skin, following the trail of his lips down your neck.

You push him into bed and climb on top of him without a single thought. You need him close, closer than the past two years, closer than now, and your clothes feel like they’re in the way. Of his hands, of his mouth, of his warmth…

You tear your dress off and throw it away, and he stops in his tracks. He has every part of you memorized, every curve and every ridge, every notch of your stretch marks, every inch of your C-section scar from Alfie’s birth… and yet he’s looking at you for the first time all over again.

“Beautiful…” it escapes his mouth just like that, and you kiss him senseless in return. You worry that if you stop, the moment will pass and this whole thing turns out to be just an illusion.

Or worse, a mistake.

You tug his t-shirt over his head, trying not to linger on his broad chest too long. He gets the idea—he is dying to say something, but doesn’t—and just unclasps your bra in response. He keeps his mouth busy by kissing and licking and sucking your newly exposed breasts.

It’s not that you haven’t been touched like this in a while; it’s just that you haven’t been touched by him like this for so long.. “Luca…”

He never thought he’d hear that again. His name in a wanton sigh, uttered by the lost love of his life. He’s not one to waste his chance. “It’s okay. I got you, my love. I got you.”

Because for the first time in a long time, it’s true. He’s got you. He’s got your body underneath him, your nipple in his mouth, your sweet sex in his hand.

God.

You’re so soft, so warm, so wet against his fingers. The little stuttered moan you let out sounds absolutely heavenly. He remembers exactly the last time he was here.

Christmas Eve, two years ago. 

Things had been tense long before that, but Luca was home and able to spend some time with his wife and kid at last. You didn’t seem all that chuffed having him around—whether he was here or not brought out that “neutral look of displeasure” from you these days— but at least you didn’t pull away when he rested his head on your shoulder as the three of you watched Jurassic Park (Alfie’s all-time favorite). Didn’t roll your eyes and turn away when he kissed you and wished you happy Christmas before bed.

And he wanted so desperately for you to openly want him again.

So he tentatively deepened the kiss and reiterated his love for you in every inch of your body that he could get his hands on. Trying to convince you that he was still here. Trying to convince himself that with every orgasm he pried out of you, that you still wanted him there.

But you just… laid there and watched. Hands locked in on the sheets, not even touching him. Motionless as he went through the motions of his thrusts. Numb as he touched and kissed and fucked you the way you used to like. He was fighting a losing battle. He might as well have been making love to a ghost. 

“Luca…” Your breathless voice snaps him out of his own intrusive thoughts, more clear and alive and real than any memory of you posing no desire for him.

“I— yeah, sorry. I just…” he shakes off his own thoughts.

“Hurry up, come on…” you needily thrust yourself into his hand.

“You sure?”

No, and neither does he. But at this point, you’re much too stubborn about your decision in the divorce and much too prideful to admit that you want him back and maybe just a tad too eager to make a mistake with him.

So you nod your head yes, and with a searing kiss, he fingerfucks you the way you needed him to. 

“Oh, God… fuck…” you sigh under the undoing of his fingers. It’s like he never forgot how to work your body. His fingers play a pattern on your clit that makes you sing. And when one slides into you, crooking and curling against your silky heat…

“Luca, I— now.”

He unlatches his mouth from your nipple almost begrudgingly, as if too sweet to part with you. “Not yet, baby. We can’t…”

“What, why?”

“Because…” he nips at the smooth flesh of your chest thoughtfully. How can he explain it to you in a way that makes sense? “I want…” to take as much time with you as possible, he adds another finger inside you deliciously slow. “I need…” to feel you in every way first, he chants in his head as he kisses you through your orgasm.

Your resolve is slipping, but the craving is as ravenous as ever. You try to squirm in protest anyway. “But…”

“Please.” His lips press against your forehead, eyes squeezed shut. “I got you, okay?”

His blue eyes meet yours, as familiar as the sky you’ve walked under your whole life. As sure as day. And before you realize it, you find yourself nodding along.

Watching him slither further down your body. Mouth paving the way between the valleys of your breasts, up the diamond-hard tops of your nipples.

Down your torso.

Between your nether lips.

You don’t remember the last time you did this either. Memories of attempts to rekindle the romance flash before your eyes. The nights that he climbed into bed late at night after work, still smelling like chocolate or mint or whatever ingredient he was working with that day. Waking you up with the parting of your legs and hushed kisses saying, “Missed you so much, baby…”

“Right there. Yes…” you pant as he laps you up where you’re dripping, catching every drop and coaxing more at the same time.

His eyes close, and he swallows back a needy groan. “Come for me, baby.”

The words shoot right into your core, and you’re suddenly overcome with the waves of pleasure running through you, grinding your hips into his mouth shamelessly. Has he always been so greedy in the way he ate you out?

Your head is spinning with need and you hope the broken words you string up are comprehensible enough for him. “Luca, come on, I can’t—”

“No, please—” he seems to understand just fine, but still he shakes his head and buries his face deeper into you.

“Luca…”

“Wait, just let me—”

So insistent. So stubborn. So… needy. You grasp a fistful of hair on the back of his head. Both heaving, you breathe out,

“Please.” 

The word stops him in his tracks. But it’s not so much the word as it is the gravity that comes with it. Whatever the two of you are doing, whatever you’re feeling is beyond words at this point.

It’s just you and him and this need.

And as much as he wants—needs— to satisfy his hunger, there’s just no way of stopping you anymore. Truth be told, he’s not even sure why he’s been stalling you in the first place. Not when you’re so eager to tug his clothes off and touch him absolutely everywhere. To stroke him, and taste him…

“No, baby.” He stops you just before you slither down his body, settling you back on the bed and caging you underneath him.

You throw him a look, indignant. If he’s gonna hold it off some more, you swear to God—

“No, I…” he kisses you hard, hoping you’ll get that he wants you too. More than anything. And that he’ll give you what you want. Hell, he would give you anything if he could come back to this again for the rest of his life. “Just trust me, okay?”

You marvel at the sight before you. So tall and broad and sturdy. With dark blond locks tousled in passion and eyes lidded from lust and longing, and it makes your heart stop because… there it is.

Love.

As much as you shut it out and as much as you avoid it, love is permanently etched to his actions. Tattooed onto the smallest of things. In the way he kisses your temple softly, and the way he caresses your skin as he aligns himself against you, and the way he holds you as he pushes in…

“Luca…” you gasp sharply.

He stops halfway into you, his eyes searching your face with compassion. “You okay?”

You’re aching and craving the stretch of him all at once, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, so you ultimately nod your head. I’m okay. 

And he knows that deep down. He feels the same. Soothed and tormented by your very presence, although he can’t help but ask, “Do you want me to stop?” Please don’t ask me to stop…

You shake your head quickly. Neither of you would ever dream of it. You would take everything—the weight and the sting of it all— and he would leave everything behind just to have this again.

Your hips colliding again in a frenzy of a rhythm you haven’t played in so long—still remembering every beat like it’s your own pulse. Your walls gripping him like you wouldn’t let him go.

He shudders a little. “I’m gonna come if you keep doing that…”

“I don’t care,” you murmur into his neck with a kiss, “Come.”

“What…?” He can’t have heard that right… right?

“I want you to.”

“Jesus…” he breathes out. “I wanna make this last, baby—”

You shake your head again and wrap your legs around him almost demandingly. “I want you to come inside me and fill me the fuck up… want you dripping down my legs… please…”

“Fuck!” The images flash before his eyes faster than he can stop his hands from grabbing you by the hips, slamming himself into you. 

Nor can he stop himself from coming deep inside you.

There’s no way to describe the way he feels at that moment. The way tension peaks and snaps into release. How it brings you into your climax as well. Your lips must be swollen from the assault of your own teeth as you hold back the filthy noises coming out of you. You don’t mind the building ache in your thigh muscles, because as soon as that warmth fills you up, your body is overcome by waves of bliss.

“Fuck…” he flops back onto his side of the bed—the right side—and quickly gathers you in his chest. It’s an effortless little maneuver, making sense at last as you lay half on top of him.

Your hand finds his—more puzzle pieces coming together as he fills the spaces between your fingers. You bring it to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Surprised to find the gold wedding band still adorning his ring finger.

***

9:56 PM

“Was that really your first time since we… you know?” Your murmured question rings loud in the absence of the rain. The storm has finally passed, but neither of you move—neither even dare to bring it up— afraid to ruin the moment. 

“It was.”

“Not even in a casual, ‘no strings attached’ kind of situation?”

“No.” He looks almost embarrassed to admit it, but there is no hesitation in his answer.

“Wow…” your heart sinks. Is it possible to feel good and bad at the same time?

Luca pauses for a moment. You can see the conflict brewing in his head. “Did you?”

You don’t have to answer. The sheer silence you take is an answer enough.

The confirmation feels like shit, but he tries to stay neutral. His thumb stills on the back of your hand. “Can I ask how many?”

“Gosh, does that even matter?” You sigh. There’s another argument coming—you can feel it.

“No, I just… I wanna know.”

“You don’t really wanna know.”

“Is it a lot?”

“I mean…”

“How many?” 

You take in a sharp breath. There’s no way out of this now. If the truth is what he wants, then the truth is what he shall get. “Twelve.”

He tenses up next to you. The whole world stops, and you can’t help but think, it’s over. There is no way this marriage is salvageable now. “What…?”

“I know that it’s a big number, and I know you might be upset—”

“That is a big number.” He doesn’t say anything about the latter part of her sentence, but it’s obvious that he’s upset, too. “I just… why?”

“I was trying to get over you.” It’s a pathetic answer, but that’s all it is to it. “I couldn’t sleep in this bed for months. I just couldn’t. Slept on the guest bed instead,” you motion at the next room, “and then one day, I couldn’t take it anymore. It’s like a switch flipped inside my brain, and I needed to—”

“What?”

“I needed to… overwrite the memories of you,” you admit feebly. “On this bed. On my body.”

Knife, meet heart. He’s not sure what answer he was expecting, but whatever it was, this hurts so much more. “And did it work?”

“Up to a point…” you pause, a sad smile in realization. “It’s funny. I keep getting bits and pieces of you somehow.”

“What do you mean?”

You close your eyes, your memories flashing, reminding you that every single time reminds you of Luca one way or another. “It’s… somebody’s perfume, or the timbre of their voice, or the way they hold my hand…”

“And you see me in them?” 

“Every single one.”

“Jesus…” Luca finds himself relieved and choked up at the same time. He doesn’t want you to ever get rid of your memories of him, but at the same time, it’s painful to hear that you tried anyway.

And you tried very hard.

“I’m sorry.”

He hums, and you realize… he hasn’t let go of your hand. Not once. Not even after your little confession. It makes the argument easier, knowing he’s there. It’ll be easier to part with him again after tonight, you hope, knowing you both did your best to understand. Why you needed to be apart. Why you did the things you did.

The armor has been shed, and the two of you are now naked, in every sense of the word.

Luca turns to look at you, studying your profile. He remembers the last time he was here.

He had just told you about Denmark. Stupid of him to feel excited, to tell you he’d just been offered his dream job, to ask you and Alfie to move someplace new with him, because it turned into a fight.

Worse than a fight; it was a death sentence.

You turned away and stared at the ceiling, and told him you couldn’t do this anymore.

And in some fucked up way, Luca feels as if he’d been brought back in time, and this is his one chance to make it right. So he asks you,

“Do you still love me?” 

You breathe out, heart clenching because in spite of yourself, “I do.”

“Do you want us to try again?”

“Luca…” you sigh heavily, “How would that even work? Alfie and I are here, and you have Noma–”

“No more Noma. I’m giving that up.” The answer is straightforward, and he surprises himself over how easily it rolls off of his tongue. How right.

“What? You wouldn’t…” Your face falls as you turn to him.

“I would. And I am,” he says firmly. “Look, I’ve thought about this for months now. I can’t do Noma anymore, I need to be home.” His gaze softens, and you feel the pattern running on the back of your hand again.

Slow and steady and certain.

The tear rolls off the corner of your eye and onto the pillow with the tiniest drop. “I wanted you to come home…”

“Then let me come home. Please?”

“I want to. I just…” you reach out and cup his face tentatively. “I just want to make sure that we’re not doing anything rash.”

His eyes light up. The only thing that matters is that you want him home, too. It takes him everything to let his logical part of the brain take control. “How about this, then?” Luca pauses thoughtfully. “We’ll take a minute. For me to sort out everything at Noma, find a replacement… and for us to figure out if this is really what we wanna do.

“If it starts to feel like a bad idea, maybe we should rethink it. But if it feels good… maybe we can give it another shot.

“And in the meantime, we’ll talk. We’ll FaceTime and… figure out what the hell to say to our lawyers.”

That makes you grimace. You were supposed to have another meeting with your divorce lawyers. Tomorrow is going to be awkward. But awkward beats saying goodbye to the man you’ve always loved, right? It’s a small price to pay.

“What do you say, baby?” He looks at you with all the hope that he has. “Just give me a minute to get everything sorted and then I’ll come home.”

You smile tearfully. “A minute is not enough… how about a month, hm?”

“Yeah, that makes more sense, actually.” He chuckles sheepishly. “A month. I can do that.”

“Good.” You sidle up to him and kiss him where his heart is. You’re willing to settle for having him just for the night, but you can’t wait until he comes home to you for good.

You hope he will.

[authorhjk1]

Welcome party

Kang Seulgi X Bae Irene X Male Reader

Stop it already."

You chuckle, making your co-worker's thighs quiver. Your warm breath makes her squirm in her seat.

"I didn't have breakfast."

"But-"

Her voice is interrupted by a deep moan. Your tongue flicks against her clit, making it difficult for her to concentrate on the task at hand.

"Why can't you eat breakfast like a normal person?"

A long lick along her folds makes her pussy lips glisten with spit and her arousal.

"I'm eating right now."

You dive back into your first meal of the day.

"You're supposed to eat food. Not pussy."

Her thighs press against your head as you suck on her clit. It seems she likes it more than she can admit.

When the two of you joined the company together, four years ago, you both had this sexual tension. It only took you a couple of weeks, before the two of you started to fuck everywhere. The bathroom, on your desk after everyone was gone, on her desk, on your boss's desk, even on set.

But, who could blame you?

With a woman like this?

How could you not?

Well, it all slowly came to a hold about a year ago. The two of you weren't able to see each other often, since you were positioned in different departments. And the minor inconvenience that she had a boyfriend.

But as soon as she broke up with him, she was all over you again. You talked about the good old times. One thing let to another...

And here you are. Kneeling under Bae Irene's desk, devouring her pussy like it's your last day on earth.

"The boss is gonna be here soon."

You don't answer, digging your fingers into the soft skin of her thighs.

The two of you recently started working together, which means you are sitting in the same office. True to the older days, you both came in way too early.

Which exposes the fact that Irene is currently putting up an act. You know that she would never miss out on an opportunity like this.

"So sweet."

You mumble between licks, making Irene cover her mouth with one hand. No one else is here, but it's better to be safe than sorry.

"Have you always been this good?"

"I've had years of practice, remember?"

All the things you learned about her body seem like muscle memory to you. It has only been two weeks since the two of you got back at it again. And yet, Irene told you that you had sex more often than she had during the whole year, while she was in a relationship.

"That naughty tongue of yours... Fuck!"

Despite being older, Irene loves how you take care of her like this. Her pussy is dripping wet by now, the chair slowly starting to get stained.

"10 more minutes. She is gonna be here by-oh god!"

You interrupt her again. While your hands knead her full thighs, you suck on her clit, letting your tongue flick against it occasionally.

"I don't take that long."

Your cocky response makes Irene grin. She can't see you, but she reaches for your head, pushing your face further into her pussy.

And before your boss comes in, Irene's body freezes in her chair. As if someone pressed the pause button. You can't see her face, but you know her eyes and mouth are wide open. A silent moan leaving her mouth, her back as straight as it can be.

A moment later, she crashes down. Falling into the backrest, her legs quiver and shake.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

With one last sigh, her body calms itself. You have one last lick, making her flinch, before you wipe her juices off your face.

Why would you eat pancakes or bread for breakfast, if you can just feast on this pussy?

"What do you think?"

You sit across the older woman's desk, nodding at her question.

"I think it would be a good idea."

"Of course you do."

You chuckle, while leaning back into the chair.

Because you are working for a small company, your boss is everyone's boss. Around a hundred people are currently part of the production company "Seongwan designs".

You and Irene have been there from the beginning. Naturally, the two of you have the highest positions, after your CEO Miss Kim.

"Are you almost done with editing by now?"

You smile.

"Yeah. It's gonna be a good MV."

Seongwan designs is offering something that not many companies would. Producing music videos for entertainment agencies. It was a risky move at first, but now, you have a lot of projects. Even from the big three.

"I haven't heard the song yet, I'm too busy. Is it good?"

"It's Twice. How can it not be good?"

Miss Kim nods.

"Of course."

She reaches for three slim portfolios.

"These are our new employees. I know you have a lot on your hands. But so do Irene and I. Would you mind?"

"No problem, boss. I will show them around."

"Great. Irene is currently on set?"

"Yes."

"What's her theme for Itzy's new comeback? She hasn't reported it to me, yet."

"It's Christmas themed."

You and Irene have a lot of liberties, but Miss Kim occasionally wants to check in on you. It's her company after all.

You lose your train of thought as you stare at her. You always thought that there is no one who could rival Irene's beauty. And yet...

After pulling yourself together, you introduce yourself, before the three new employees do the same.

Your eyes are glued to her face, when it's finally her turn.

"I'm Kang Seulgi. I will do my best. Please take care of me."

She bows respectfully.

You already catch the man, who just introduced himself, staring at her.

Since you and Irene are not in any kind of relationship, you imagine yourself having some fun with Seulgi after this tour.

The way she looks is incredible. Her long black hair has blue highlights in it, making her look a little more fierce. Her smile makes her look adorable. But her stare? Fuck. She almost looks evil.

Her white crop top is exposing her beautiful midriff and her small waist. Her chest looks just as good.

Her shorts are barely long enough. Her legs are covered by a pair of fishnets and her big, black boots.

The imprint on her shirt and the bear on her waist make her look cute. But the fishnets, shorts and boots make her look dangerous.

The combination is too much for you.

"And this is where we usually eat lunch." You end the tour by showing them the cantina. It's a small one, because a lot of the crew are working on different sets and locations. It's never completely full and looks kinda cozy.

"What a coincidence."

You check your watch.

"It's lunch time."

You chuckle, while pointing behind you.

"Help yourself."

Seulgi smiled at your joke, which makes your heart skip a beat. If you could just have her for lunch...

You shake your head as you turn around to follow them.

While you wait in line, you get a call from Irene.

"Grabbing lunch?"

"Yeah."

"What's on the menu?"

"Tteokbokki."

"Oh, damn. Can you save me some?"

"Sure. See you."

You hang up as it's your time to order. Having worked with her for four years, you know exactly what side dishes she likes to eat.

"Two servings please."

Once you got the food, you blindly follow the one in front of you. Seulgi. It wasn't even intentional. And yet you find yourself sitting next to her, at the table with the two new guys. You catch both of their uneasy eyes.

"Relax, guys. While we are in this room, I'm not your boss. Eat up."

You watch them reaching for their chopsticks.

"For how long have you been here, sir?"

You glance at Seulgi, before reaching for your own.

"Four years. Right from the beginning."

"Wow. You must know a lot about producing."

"There is always more to learn."

You are a very humble person, despite being the second most important person in the company. Well, if you don't count Irene.

Speaking of the devil, you see her entering the cantina. You weren't able to "catch up" with her this morning. You regret it even more, when you see what she is wearing.

If you would have declined to show the new ones around yesterday, you would know what Irene is wearing underneath that dress of hers. But you are sure you're going to find out soon enough.

"Pabo."

"Idiot."

You great each other as usual, before she takes one of the plates off your tray. The food does look delicious and you can't wait. You were nice enough to wait for her.

"How is it going with Itzy?"

Despite looking at Irene, you can almost feel Seulgi's eyes widen. You've gotten to know her better over the last hours. She seems to be a pretty gentle and curious person.

"We are managing."

"That sounds like a delay."

You wait for Irene to finish chewing on the rice cake in her mouth.

"No shit, Sherlock. We had to do the group dance scene like a thousand times."

You are used to her bickering, after all, you are not the one she is mad at.

"But you got it now?"

"Yeah. But we are behind on schedule."

It's silent for a moment as you and Irene eat your food.

"M-May I ask a question?"

You turn to Seulgi.

"Sure. What is it?"

Your reassuring smile gives her confidence.

"Why is it so bad, if you can't keep the schedule? It's not your fault, right? Shouldn't their company deal with it?"

"You are way to naive."

Irene dismisses her by waving her hand, before reaching for the glass of water in front of her. You decide to explain further.

"You might think so, Seulgi. But their company doesn't. They usually have a release date set already. And if we don't meet their expectations, it's our fault. It doesn't matter, if their idols mess up."

"I see."

Seulgi nods, before returning to her food.

You give Irene a quiet glare, to not let her frustration out on the new employees.

The older woman glares back at you.

"Stop looking and eat."

You roll your eyes.

Irene quickly uses her chopsticks to steal your boiled egg.

"Hey."

She grins at you, before putting it into her mouth.

"Please. You can have mine, sir."

You see Seulgi's egg in between her chopsticks.

"It's alright, Seulgi. Thank you though."

"Please, I insist."

You nod awkwardly, letting her put her egg into your bowl.

If you would've looked up, you would have seen Irene's disapproving glare.

Yes, the two of you aren't in a relationship. But she can't help but feel weird by the way Seulgi treats you. She is the one you are supposed to fuck after all.

Making sure you know that as well, Irene moves her foot underneath the table.

You look at her as you feel her shoe rub against your crotch.

"I want you so bad right now."

Irene captures your lips with hers.

"You are some needy slut, you know that?"

"Shut up and kiss me."

The two of you stumble into the bathroom.

Since it's right next to your office, you both work in one room, there aren't many people who use it. Irene's reputation of being a little cold keeps them away. Which makes the bathroom a great place for eating your dessert.

Irene's warm lips taste like the Tteokbokki she just ate. Her tongue explores your mouth, searching for your own.

You feel her hand undoing your belt as your right one sneaks around her waist.

"Praise me."

She mumbles into your mouth as your pants drop to the floor.

"You're so fucking hot."

You say between breaths, before kissing her again.

"I love how small your waist is."

Emphasizing your point, you place your second hand on it as well.

"More."

Irene sighs as she takes off your boxers.

"Your pussy is the tightest I've ever had."

You make her moan by kissing her neck.

"Your skin is soft and tasty."

You just say whatever comes to mind.

Irene is stroking your cock, while the two of you keep making out.

"I love how your thighs wrap around my head, when I eat you out."

Irene moans, remembering yesterdays morning.

"Tell me how good I suck your cock."

She bites your lip as she strokes your cock, making it hard.

"I think you need to show me first."

Irene pulls away, a naughty grin on her face.

She drops to her knees, your cock right in front of her.

"How can I resist?"

She licks your shaft, closing her eyes.

"That cock of yours."

She sighs, almost to herself. You could think she starved for days by the way she starts to give you head.

Her lips wrap tightly around your tip, before Irene bobs her head up and down. Her tongue is pressed against the underside of your cock, playing with your tip, whenever she pulls away.

"You are amazing."

You feel her smile around your cock.

Irene let's her lips glide along the length of your shaft a couple times more.

"This tastes so good."

She kisses around your tip, before licking up your precum.

"I might get addicted."

True to her words, her blowjob increases in pace once more.

Irene places her hands on your thighs, ready to face fuck herself onto your cock. You reach out to put her hair behind her ears.

Gag after gag escapes her mouth as Irene starts to go up and down your shaft with an incredible pace. You don't know why she is so aggressive today, but you love it.

It only takes a short amount of time for her mouth to make you weak. You weren't lying when you told her she is amazing. She really is good at this.

You can't believe her makeup is still intact as she uses her mouth to pleasure you. Irene becomes sloppier by the second. Some of her spit is already staining the tiles she is kneeling on.

"Fuck. You are so good at giving head."

You sigh as Irene just won't stop devouring your cock.

"I-I want to fuck you."

Her work makes you stutter already. But only those words can make her stop.

You haven't fucked her since yesterday. That's a long time already. You finally want to feel her pussy again.

Irene let's your spit covered cock fall out of her mouth.

"Make me scream."

That's all she says before you pull her up.

For the hundredths time since you two work together, you bend Irene over the sink. That position alone makes her short dress ride high enough to expose her cheeks.

"How could you wear something like this? People could think this is actually see through."

You reach underneath her dress to knead her right cheek.

"Don't talk. Just give it to me."

You reach for her center, ready to slide her underwear down her creamy legs, but you instead touch her naked pussy.

"You really are a slut."

Irene rises her head to look at you through the mirror.

"I'm not. You are the only guy I fuck."

You raise an eyebrow. You don't have anything exclusive going on and you expected Irene to be able to fuck anyone she wants.

"I only dress like this so you can give me a good pounding whenever I need one."

You grin, knowing what she means. You see Irene's naked body pretty much everyday. There is nothing the two of you haven't done with each other yet.

With your wet dick in your hand, you push inside Irene's tight snatch. Her own saliva is lubricating your cock enough for now.

"Oh gosh. This never gets old."

She sighs as you push further. Your cock slowly fills up her pussy. It's unbelievable how tight Irene is. For a moment, you wonder if your new co-worker is just as tight...

Irene's moan brings you back to reality, when you bottom out inside of her.

"Fuck, that's it."

She sighs in disappointment.

"I wish we had more time, but I only have a couple of minutes."

She locks eyes with you through the mirror.

"Fuck the stress out of me. Hurry up."

You gladly start to fulfill her request.

Deep and hard thrusts push Irene's hips into the sink. Her hands hold onto the edges, her knuckles slowly start to turn white.

"Yes!"

She hisses through her teeth, enjoying how deep you are inside of her.

As you continue to fuck her, you start to increase your pace. As you fuck the stress out of her, Irene's hair starts to become a mess in her face. Her volume increases. The sound of your hips meeting her cheeks echo through the bathroom.

"Fuck me harder!"

Her tight pussy makes it difficult to last very long. You feel her flexing her muscles, trying to make you cum as fast as possible.

Your hands glide from her waist towards her shoulders. After brushing her hair away, you take hold of them, using your grip to pull Irene's full body against you.

"Oh gosh!"

Irene loses her grip on the sink, reaching behind her to hold onto both of your arms. Taking a step forward, you are almost lying her onto the sink, her face mere inches away from the mirror.

You see mist form on the glass surface as moan after moan escapes her mouth. Keeping your pace, you feel her getting closer.

You know all the signs by now. The way she furrows her eyebrows, the way she bites her lip, the way her moans sound. They all tell you that Irene can't keep this up for much longer.

"Fuck!"

Her hair keeps swinging wildly in front of her face as you take her from behind. How often did the two of you do this? Right here? Probably at least five times in the last two weeks.

"Make me cum! Hurry up!"

You almost have to chuckle. How is she still able to worry about her schedule? Pressing your lips together, you use more force to thrust into her.

By now, Irene's head shakes uncontrollably with ever push and pull.

"Fuck!"

If she is still able to scream, you aren't fucking her hard enough.

It only takes a couple more of your powerful thrusts, until you can finally convince her body to climax.

As always, Irene seems to be frozen. Her mouth hangs open, her glassy eyes stare at you through the mirror.

A moment later, her knees buckle, a deep moan escapes her lips, and Irene almost falls to the ground.

You keep her standing, letting her stay in this position, bend over the sink.

"I'm close, too."

She smiles to herself, slowly getting on her knees.

You watch as she starts to take your shaft into her mouth again. Her mouth replaces her pussy, sucking her own juices off your cock.

"Fuck, Irene."

You groan, feeling your orgasm approaching. The combination of her pussy and mouth is something no one can resist. Not even you. Eve though this is almost an everyday occurrence.

You cup Irene's right cheek with your hand as she looks up at you. She does look a little more relaxed, although you expect her to call you tonight. The rest of her day is going to be stressful as well.

The thought of fucking her again and the way Irene's tongue swirls around your tip, finally makes you cum.

"You are so good at that."

You are barely able to mumble those words, before you unload inside her mouth.

Irene hums in satisfaction, waiting for you to finish. Once your eyes are focused again, you watch her gulp down your cum.

"You are turning me into an addict, you know?"

You laugh as you help her up.

"Cum is good for your health. That's a scientific fact."

Irene chuckles as you pull your pants back up.

"I call you."

With that, your co-worker is gone.

You scratch your head as you go over the documents and scripts. Something is missing. Where did you put the script for the next dance video? You sigh in frustration, sometimes you hate that you can be messy. You definitely put it on your desk earlier. Right?

You get up, looking around the office. Or is it in of the shelves?

You start to go through them, looking for Twice's dance video script. It's supposed to be released together with the MV. The shooting for the music video is done, but you have to start with filming the dance video. The girls are coming over tomorrow.

Or maybe one of the stylists took it to prepare their outfits? You hate it, when people just take your stuff.

"Bloody hell."

You grumble as you walk out of your office.

Reaching the floor beneath yours, you look around the big room. Around thirty desks. Half of them are occupied, all of them have at least one shelf standing behind them. You groan internally. You still have to finish editing.

As your eyes wander through the room, they get caught up on the person who is sitting a few meters away. Maybe she can help you find it.

You asked Seulgi to go through some old footage after lunch, hoping she could gather some useful information for future projects and maybe even learn something.

"Seulgi."

You call her, while walking towards her desk.

Her eyes seem to be glued to the screen, her complete being indifferent to everything that's going on around her. Including you.

"Seulgi?"

You are only a few steps away. You see that she has taken some notes on a piece of paper, but the pen is lying on the desk now. She is biting her nail. It looks like she is watching something way too interesting.

"Kang Seulgi."

She almost falls out of her chair, when you call her name. Standing right beside her, you see how her cheeks flush red.

A look at her monitor makes you swallow hard. She must have taken the wrong video tape out of the material room. Miss Kim keeps the old tapes on the right side. And the security footage on the left. Seulgi seems to have picked up the wrong kind of video.

A video of you to be exact. Well, you aren't the only one in it. The other person is actually sitting on your lap. You see yourself in your own chair, your pants around your ankles.

No other than Bae Irene is riding your cock like crazy, her hips slamming down onto you.

You curse Miss Kim for unnecessarily keeping all of the old security footage.

You look at Seulgi. Her eyes are wide open in shock. Her innocent face is red with either shame or arousal. You are not sure yet.

Glancing at the monitor again, you see the time stamp. Seulgi must have watched this for at least half an hour by now.

"Come."

You turn the video and monitor off, before walking away. Not turning around, you hear Seulgi's hurried footsteps. The two of you pass by the cantina, follow two different hallways, until you find yourself in the underground parking lot.

Finally turning around, you see Seulgi standing there. Her fingers are intertwined in front of her as she looks down, a coy look on her face.

"I-I'm sorry, sir. I must have picked the wrong one."

"And you only figured this out thirty minutes in?"

"N-No. I-"

"Did you like watching it?"

You see Seulgi bite her lip, but she shakes her head.

"I was just about to turn it off, sir."

You take a step closer. Her vanilla sent was covered by the smell of food during lunch, but you can now freely enjoy her smell.

"You only watched, right?"

"Y-Yes, sir."

"Then what is that?"

You point at the center of Seulgi's shorts.

She gasps, before covering it with both hands, without even looking down.

There is nothing there. But it confirms your assumption. If Seulgi did more than just watch...

"I spilled some water earlier. It was a mistake."

Seulgi bows.

"It's alright."

You put your hands in the pockets of your pants, which seems to relax her a little. Looking around, you confirm that there aren't any cameras around.

"Take them off."

"What?"

Seulgi looks at you. Completely bamboozled.

"Take off your shorts."

"But-"

Your eyes meet and Seulgi can't do anything but nod.

You watch as she starts to undo her belt, before opening the buttons. She looks down, trying to avoid eye contact.

Her waist looks even smaller as Seulgi pulls down her shorts. You see that her black panties are darker in the front.

"What do you think about me, fucking Irene?"

As you ask her, you let a finger slide behind her waistband.

Seulgi's breath hitches. She looks down at what you are doing, until she finally answers.

"I-I liked it."

"What did you like?"

Your finger glides along the smooth skin right above her snatch.

"I liked h-how often you made her cum."

Your finger reaches her clit, when she says the last word.

"Are you prepared to cum right here?"

Seulgi opens her mouth to protest, but you circle around her clit. A moan comes out instead, which makes her cover her mouth immediately.

"Don't be shy. No one is here."

You take her hand off her mouth with your own.

"I've seen how you looked at me today. I'm not surprised."

Seulgi looks away, unable to admit that she was actually checking you out.

"I've meet more than enough girls like you."

Your hand moves a little lower, your finger slowly parting her lips. You feel Seulgi's wetness slowly coating your finger.

"You all think it's fun to seduce your boss, until he makes you his sex toy."

You slip your finger inside her as you say the last word.

Seulgi's wide open eyes look up at you. Her cheeks are still red, now definitely because of arousal.

"Then, you all want to stop. Because you think so highly of yourself."

You move your finger slowly. In and out.

Her body is reacting to your touch. Your other hand is now reaching for her top, your palm slightly presses against her right chest.

"You think, you could have any man you want, don't you?"

Seulgi is unable to speak. She never expected you to dominate her like this. She feels dirty, but good. Your finger makes her rub her thighs together.

"Do you want the truth?"

You wait a couple of moments, your finger moving in and out, until Seulgi nods.

"A woman like you is only good for one thing. Her body."

You inch closer, kissing her neck. Your warm breath gives her goosebumps. She doesn't step back, her feet feel like they are glued to the ground.

"You can't have any man you want. You can only have one man. One man, whom you belong to."

Irene wasn't the first woman you slept with, so you have enough experience to judge Seulgi's character. Although she acted modest, her outfit was definitely not. She visibly liked the attention from your co-workers. And yet, she gave you her egg during lunch. She couldn't keep her eyes off you.

You expected her to be innocent on the outside, while she is dirty and slutty on the inside. Your judgment finally turns out to be true.

Seulgi still doesn't talk back to you. She only moans quietly, her thighs rubbing against each other.

"That means, I can use you however I see fit."

You knead her breasts over her top, making Seulgi gasp.

"When, where and how."

To emphasize your point, you insert a second finger into her needy cunt.

"Do we understand each other?"

Seulgi sighs heavily as she feels both of your fingers move inside of her.

You are not very dominant with Irene, partially because she is quite dominant herself. But you like to be in charge. Just like this. Since you can't really do that with Irene, Seulgi will have to suffice.

"Answer me."

She finally nods. The young woman finally admits to her slutty side. She knows that this is how it should be.

"I will count down from ten now."

You start increasing your pace, after curling your fingers upwards inside of her.

"If you cum too early or too late, there are gonna be consequences."

You don't even have to ask if she understood anymore. Seulgi is already nodding, pressing her lips together.

"10"

Seulgi holds onto your arm, trying to stand upright.

"9"

Your other hand is still playing with her chest above her top, switching from left to right.

"8"

A cute whimper escapes Seulgi's mouth.

"7"

Your move your fingers inside of her, feeling how wet she is becoming.

"6"

Seulgi is moaning freely by now. She has stopped caring, only enjoying the pleasure that radiates from her center.

"5"

Her hips buck forward, her body starting to get out of control.

"4"

Seulgi is trying her best to make herself cum by thinking about what she watched. She wishes she could be the one, bouncing in your lap.

"3"

She imagines how big your cock must be, the camera didn't have a good angle. Irene was always blocking the view.

"2"

Seulgi feels her body heating up, her cheeks are flushed red. Her eyes are closed as she whimpers loudly.

"1"

She feels how you cup her breasts as you finger her. Both sensations make her stumble towards the edge.

"Cum."

"Oh goooood!"

Seulgi moans loudly as she shakes, her pussy contracting around your fingers.

Her orgasm is quite different from Irene's. While the older woman feezes, Seulgi moans and shakes, cuming wildly on your fingers.

"Holy-"

You shut her up by kissing her, finally tasting those lips that look so inviting.

Seulgi is barely able to react as her body moves on its own.

You lick your fingers as if you just ate something sticky. Seulgi's pussy juices definitely are delicious.

Entering your office, you see Irene sitting in her chair.

"Back already?"

She turns around.

"Yeah. Where were you? One of the stylists came by to return your script. It's on your desk."

Your mood is too good to be annoyed that someone took your stuff without asking.

"Tanks."

You walk past her to get to your own chair.

"Am I actually going to see you tonight, or are you gonna ditch me again?"

You raise and eyebrow at Irene's question.

"I know you are an workaholic. Especially while editing."

You roll your eyes.

"Don't worry, I will be there tonight."

Irene nods.

She suddenly stands up to look at you above her monitor.

"Or are you getting tired of me?"

The sudden change in her voice makes you shake your head. As if Irene is suddenly sad.

"Of course I'm not. How could I grow tired of a woman like you?"

Irene gives you a weak smile.

"Well, I'm not getting any younger."

You chuckle.

"Neither do I. But you are still one of the hottest women I've ever seen."

She looks around the room, clearly not knowing how to respond.

"Well, thank you."

You see her fidgeting with a piece of paper.

"Is it about what we are doing then? Has the sex with me become too boring?"

You shake your head.

"Maybe we should switch it up a little."

You lean back in your chair, raising an eyebrow.

"How?"

Irene shrugs her shoulders.

"What haven't we done so far?"

You think about it for a while.

"I think we are just missing something new."

You look up, when you hear Irene break the silence.

"You use all my holes on a regular basis. I make you cum, you make me cum. We tried domination and everything."

You remember how it felt, being tied up to the chair in her apartment. Irene didn't hold back that night. She did everything she wanted with you, without you being able to resist.

"We did it in public, here, and on set."

She continues on with her list.

"We used toys and all. What are we missing?"

"Wy don't you google it?"

You ask jokingly.

To your surprise, Irene sits back down.

"Good idea."

You chuckle. You've known her for four years and she keeps surprising you.

"I did some research."

You look down at Irene. Her head is resting on your naked chest. You play with her hair as the two of your recover from your recent activities.

"And?"

Irene shuffles around a little, putting one of her legs over yours. She can feel the cream pie you left in her ass, slowly oozing out. Her ass is still sore, which makes it a little uncomfortable.

"There is some stuff we didn't try yet."

"I'm listening."

"We never did something with like... other people, you know?"

"Other people?"

You wonder if you would be able to share Irene. Of course she is beautiful enough for two guys. But you don't know how you would feel, fucking her together with someone else. It already felt weird, knowing that she slept with her boyfriend, while they were together.

"You mean, you want two guys to fuck you?"

You feel Irene's hand glide over your abs as she paints lazy circles with her fingers.

"Not necessarily. Although it could be nice."

It dawns on you a moment later.

"Another woman?"

Irene hits you.

"Don't sound too excited."

You chuckle, patting her head.

"Are you sure?"

Irene nods.

"Why not? It's not like I'm not gonna get anything out of it."

"Do you have someone in mind?"

You wait for Irene to think about it.

"A certain co-worker comes to mind."

You feel your cock harden, thinking about Seulgi.

"Who?"

You pretend to be oblivious.

"Seulgi. The one who keeps drooling while looking at you."

"Don't exaggerate."

"I'm not."

She raises her head and turns it towards you.

"I heard her, when I left work. She was in the bathroom downstairs, getting herself off by thinking about you."

You laugh.

"I'm serious. I didn't even have to go inside. I was able to hear her moan your name as I walked by."

"Can't blame her."

Irene sighs in annoyance.

"Don't think too highly of yourself."

You lie your hand back on her head, making Irene lie down on your chest again.

"So, how do you want to approach her? Just ask?"

She shakes her head.

"I think it's not that easy."

You think about how you fingered Seulgi in the parking lot. It kinda was.

"We should come up with a good strategy."

The two of you think about it for a while.

Two days later

You stop your car, taking a look at the cozy hotel. It has old-fashioned Korean style.

After getting out and walking closer, you see Irene coming out from the front door.

"You are late."

"Work."

You simply reply, before the two of you walk towards the entrance.

"Is Seulgi already here?"

"Yeah."

The two of you told Seulgi that the whole company is gonna throw a welcome party for the new co-workers. Of course, Seulgi wanted to come and even asked if you would be there as well.

You are now seeing her walking towards the two of you.

"Hi, sir."

"Hello, Seulgi."

You greet her.

The two of them wear big boots, which doesn't get past you unnoticed.

"Look at that dress of hers."

Irene whispers as Seulgi walks in front of you two.

"I bet she is hoping she is gonna get lucky tonight."

"Let's make sure we even surpass her expectations."

"It seems like they are all running late."

Irene says as the three of you "wait" for the others.

You are all sitting in a small room around the table on the ground. Seulgi is sitting next to you, while Irene sits across from you.

You like how she is dressed. She left her white fur coat behind and is now wearing a white top, that shows off her shoulders. Her brown skirt is partially see through. The tie at the front is practically begging you to pull on it. The combination of the skirt and her black, knee high boots makes her legs look longer than usual.

Seulgi lost her down jacket as well. She is definitely wearing this blue, skin tight dress on purpose. Because she is sitting cross-legged, the hem has moved up her thighs. You only have to glance down to get a glimpse at her white panties.

You place a hand on Seulgi's naked thigh. She shivers at your touch, her panties slowly becoming damp. Your hand slowly moves up and down her thigh, occasionally moving the hem of her dress up even further.

Irene starts a conversation with Seulgi. The latter is unable to respond properly.

"Are you alright?"

Irene "notices" that Seulgi is acting a little awkward.

"I-I'm fine."

She manages to say, closing her mouth quickly, before a moan escapes.

The two continue their conversation, while you begin to rub Seulgi's pussy through her panties. They slowly start to become transparent due to her juices.

Irene pretends to be oblivious to Seulgi's moans. The younger woman isn't able to keep quiet anymore.

After you and Irene decided to make Seulgi the lucky girl who gets to sleep with the two of you, you came up with a plan on how to seduce her.

"If you go to the bathroom now and record a video of you fingering yourself, I'm gonna fuck you tonight."

You stop moving your hand as you speak through your teeth, making Seulgi think that Irene is still in the dark.

Seulgi sighs at the lack of your touch, before hurriedly excusing herself.

The two of you watch your new co-worker rush to the bathroom.

"I wanna see how she looks when she cums."

You chuckle at Irene's words.

Pulling out your phone, you see that Seulgi is video calling you. You pick up and position the phone, so that you and Irene can watch, without Seulgi knowing.

You hear her moan and mewl. She has already gotten rid of her panties and is now sitting on the closed lit of a toilet.

Her fingers move in and out of her pussy, making her juices drip down her thighs.

"What do you think about making her beg for it?"

"What do you mean?"

The two of you watch Seulgi.

"We planned on you fucking her and me coming in. Why don't we switch that up?"

"Sure. When do you want to-"

"I don't want to do it upstairs."

Irene gives you a knowing look as you feel her hand rest on your crotch.

You place your phone on the table as you see Irene crawl towards you. She starts to unbutton your pants to the sounds of Seulgi fingering herself in the bathroom.

Her cute moans seem to turn on Irene just as much as they turn you on. The older woman's head is already resting above your cock. She can be quite quick to get rid off your pants, when she wants to.

Her lips feel as good as they always do as she wraps them around your tip. You caress her naked shoulders, feeling the smoothness of her skin.

Judging by the volume of Seulgi's moans, you can confidently say that she is close to orgasm. You hear her saying your name once in a while. It makes you push Irene's head further down. She hums, acknowledging your need for more pleasure.

While you enjoy Irene's blowjob, you hear Seulgi finally reaching her orgasm. With a shriek, she cums all over her fingers, almost dropping her phone. Her legs quiver and her chest is moving up and down at a very quick pace.

It almost has the same rhythm as Irene's head as she keeps sucking you off.

"Seulgi is done."

You inform Irene, waiting for her decision on what to do next.

She straddles your lap, slightly lifting her skirt in the process. She shows off her lack of underwear, grinning proudly.

"Fuck me."

She slowly lowers herself onto your cock.

You groan as you penetrate her pussy, gliding inside her entrance.

You fucked Irene in the bathroom just this morning. And yet, here you are again, feeling her weight on your lap as she sinks down to take in all of your cock.

You start to pepper her naked shoulders with kisses as Irene slowly begins to ride you. It's more sensual than usual. Instead of bouncing up and down, she circles her hips on top of you.

When Seulgi slides the door open, her eyeballs almost fall out of their sockets. She can't believe what she is seeing, her mouth wide open.

You are still sitting next to the table, your back now turned towards her. Irene is sitting in your lap, grinding against you, while rotating her hips. Seulgi sees that your pants are gone.

"Hello, there."

Irene greets her as if she just came in for work in the morning.

"W-What-"

Seulgi is unable to process what is going on.

Irene wants to say something, but your cock grazes her g-spot in that moment. A moan comes out of her opened lips.

Seulgi is still standing in place. She is too shocked to stay or to leave. She doesn't know what she is supposed to do. The two of you look so fucking hot. But you are still her boss...

"You want his dick so bad, don't you?"

Irene starts to speak up, her tone dripping with lust.

"You can't though. This is all mine."

She locks eyes with Seulgi, while grabbing a fistful of your hair. She makes you lick her shoulders, while she keeps moving on top of you. You are more than happy to taste that porcelain like skin of hers.

Seulgi mumbles inaudible words.

"W-What? H-How?"

"Tell me how bad you want him to rail you. Maybe I will give you a chance."

Seulgi is still standing in the door, completely bamboozled.

What is she supposed to do?

"Fuck, your pussy is so tight."

You can't help but groan. You don't even do it to lure Seulgi in. It's just a fact.

"Your cock is just so big. It splits me open."

Irene moans. You don't know if she is exaggerating, but you think she told you this a couple of times already.

Seulgi can't help but let her hand slide over her dress. Because it's so tight, she doesn't even need to lift it to rub over her clit.

"You are such a slut, Kang Seulgi."

Irene mocks her as she keeps grinding on your cock.

"Wearing that slutty dress, thinking (y/n) would fuck you."

She let's out an evil laugh.

"You don't get any of his cock, until you beg for it. Like a good little whore."

Seulgi has been thinking about this, since you made her cum two days ago. Is she really this kind of woman? What would her parents say to all this? She only met you two days ago. But her bosses are now asking her to beg. Is this really where she wants to work? Shouldn't she just quit? Isn't this sexual harassment?

But for some reason, her snatch still responds. As if Seulgi's body needs this. She knows it's wrong and yet, she finds herself kneeling on the wooden floor.

"Please, let me have some cock, sir. Please."

Seulgi whines, hoping to convince you quickly.

Maybe this kind of work environment wouldn't be so bad. Getting fucked by her boss on a daily basis? Seulgi can't say no to that.

You turn your head, seeing Seulgi kneel on the floor. Her hands are rubbing her naked thighs. She is obviously desperate, despite just cuming in the bathroom. She is hesitant to touch herself, not sure if Irene would scold her for it.

Irene let's out another moan, slowly starting to go up and down on your cock instead of just grinding her hips.

"I knew you are slut."

She takes your glass and spills the contents onto the wooden surface of the table.

"Clean that up. Maybe you are lucky."

Her empty promises make Seulgi hesitate. Her boss is making her clean up the table, just so she can sleep with you?

"Use your tongue, cutie."

For a moment, Seulgi is disgusted. She would never clean the table with her tongue. But the way Irene calls her cutie, makes Seulgi feel something different. Similar to what she feels when you order her around, but not quite the same.

She finally crawls forward, kneeling right behind you. Irene takes her hand off your shoulder, holding Seulgi's chin in her hand.

"You would do anything for you boss's cock, wouldn't you?"

A glance at your face makes Seulgi nod. If she could be the one in your lap...

Irene pushes her head downwards. Seulgi sticks out her tongue, feeling the numbing taste of the alcohol. Why do you have to drink whiskey? Seulgi hates it's taste. And yet, it makes you even more attractive in her eyes.

She now closes them, trying her hardest not to flinch as she laps up the brown liquid.

At the same time, Irene keeps riding your cock. She is visibly turned on by ordering Seulgi around. Her pussy feels wetter than usual. And tighter. The view of her naked shoulders make her look extremely sexy. You can sometimes see a hint of her pussy, sliding down the length of your cock, through her skirt.

Looking to the side, you have to gulp as you see Seulgi, almost bend over the table. Her ass looks so good in that dress. The white lace hem is slowly riding up her thighs and you are able to see a glimpse of her soaked panties. They are practically see through by now.

The view is almost too much for you. Adding Irene's constant riding to it, slowly starts to overwhelm you.

You can't help but place a hand on Seulgi's ass. You knead her cheeks through the blue fabric, enjoying their fullness. She moans into the table as she is about to finish cleaning.

"Spank the shit out of her."

Irene whispers into your ear.

By now, it takes a lot of willpower to raise your hand. Your body urges you on to just get a hold of Irene's hips and make her go faster. It's screams for release, but you manage to hold back.

A loud shriek echoes through the room, when your hand meets Seulgi's right butt cheek. She never expected to be spanked. It's more out of shock than pain, but she shrieks yet again, when you hit her left cheek.

"Take daddy's spanking, baby girl."

Irene moans in Seulgi's direction, before letting her head roll back. It exposes her beautiful throat. You start to kiss that spot, slightly pressing against it.

Without even looking, you give Seulgi another set of spanks. She moans loudly.

"Please more, daddy. Spank me so much, until you are satisfied. Just please, let me have your cock."

You are surprised that Seulgi is calling you daddy, without Irene having to tell her to do so.

Even Seulgi doesn't know what has come over her. The pain in her ass cheeks makes her pussy wet.

"More begging."

You feel Irene slowly coming to an hold. She knows your body we'll enough to not make you trip over the edge. She slowly starts to get off you, her slick pussy leaving your cock drenched with her juices.

"Now that your tongue is warmed up, you can eat my pussy. I will let you have some cock afterwards."

You and Seulgi both notice that Irene left out the word maybe. The younger woman nods eagerly. Is this her final task?

The two of you watch Irene, quickly getting rid off the last two glasses and the small plate of egg rolls. She sits down on the edge of the table, right in front of Seulgi's face.

You scoot back, the room is a little small. Seulgi dives underneath Irene's skirt, aiming her tongue at her pussy. For a while, you are just content with watching.

Irene combs through Seulgi's hair as she eats her out. You hear the noises the younger woman makes and Irene's moans.

Your gaze lands on Seulgi's ass. That dress of hers just looks so good on her.

You can't hold back anymore.

Kneeling down behind Seulgi, you hike up her dress. A little is already enough for you to see her full ass. Sliding her panties to the side, you start to eat her out.

Seulgi's pussy tastes delicious. A little different from Irene, but still delicious.

You make her moan into Irene's cunt, which makes the older woman moan in return.

Their lewd sounds fill the room as you pleasure Seulgi and she pleasures Irene.

After having climaxed just a couple of minutes ago, Seulgi's pussy is still sensitive. You can feel it by the way she keeps grinding against your face. She is desperate and needy.

It takes you little effort to make her orgasm. Years of experience with Irene make it easy for you to know how to eat out Seulgi properly.

"Daddy!"

Seulgi's loud moan is muffled by Irene's pussy as she cums on your face. Her legs shiver and her back starts sagging.

When you finally get back up, your eyes meet Irene's. Without words, you are able to tell her that you can't hold yourself back much longer. She nods in understanding.

"Are you ready to be daddy's office slut, baby?"

Seulgi nods, her face buried inside Irene's snatch.

"Tell me how often you want him to fuck you."

Seulgi lifts her head to look at Irene.

"Everyday, please. I don't care where, or who watches. I just need that cock."

You are surprised at Seulgi's cravings. She has never even seen your cock in real life. Only on the tape from security. How did Irene make her so desperate?

"In the morning, during lunch, after work. I don't care as long as he fucks me, please."

Seulgi turns her head to look at you over her shoulder.

"Please, daddy. I will be an obedient toy for you. Just give me your cock, please."

You align your cock with her dripping wet cunt.

An unbelievably deep, lustful moan leaves Seulgi's mouth. As if she has waited for this for months. She feels your cock spreading her pussy lips apart, penetrating her further and further. You feel even bigger inside of her than she expected. She struggles with your girth, realizing that Irene wasn't exaggerating earlier. You really are tearing her pussy open.

"Daddy."

She whines, wanting you to stop, but wishing you would keep going at the same time.

"Make her take all of your cock at once."

Irene raises her chin to see what's going on behind Seulgi.

You keep pushing deeper, until you finally bottom out inside of Seulgi for the first time. She moans and mewls, trying her best to adjust to your size.

"What are you waiting for?"

Irene eggs you on as she plays with her own pussy, Seulgi unable to keep eating her out.

"She is yours. It doesn't matter if she can take it or not. She has to."

For a moment you hesitate, but a look at Seulgi's ass makes you move. You pull out of her quickly, before slamming yourself back inside.

"Oh god!"

Seulgi almost screams. Irene enjoys Seulgi's wide open eyes as you start to fuck her.

Both of their moans must be audible outside. A lot of people must be complaining already. But you don't care.

Experiencing the tightness of Seulgi's pussy makes you forget the rest of the world. She is so wet and tight, making you feel like you are in heaven.

Your thrusts become quicker and harder, the longer you are inside of her. Seulgi's moans increase in volume, while Irene keeps fingering herself.

"Take that cock, honey."

She mumbles in Seulgi's direction, almost too far gone to further degrade the younger woman.

"Take that cock like the whore you are."

You doubt that Seulgi even heard her, her own moans too loud.

"You're tearing me open, daddy! You're so big, daddy!"

It only took you two days to turn Kang Seulgi into your personal slut. You wonder what the future brings.

You imagine yourself, sitting at your desk, while Seulgi kneels underneath, sucking you off. But one thing is for sure, this is not gonna be your last threesome with Irene and Seulgi.

The older woman's body freezes as she finally reaches her own climax. She didn't expect to cum this hard. But she is now unable to hold herself back, after degrading her new co-worker.

And Seulgi? Seulgi's head is only filled with one thought. How hard you fuck her pussy. She is unable to think about the future. She is even unable to think this over. Her mind is in a state of pure bliss as you take her from behind.

Your hands hold her small waist, pulling her back towards you with every thrust you do.

You see another message pop up on her phone. Seulgi's parents are asking her for the third time now, when she is coming to Christmas dinner tonight. Little do they know, what their cute little daughter is doing now.

In fact, Seulgi is being quite naughty. Even on Christmas. You swipe the notification away, focusing back on recording.

Seulgi is kneeling on her knees in front of you, doing what she seems to love. Sucking you off.

Her red and white Christmas outfit almost got her in trouble at work.

Luckily, you are her boss, which means you took Seulgi into your office giving her a little "talk".

She is now at your place, enjoying your cock, instead of being at her parent's for dinner. You are sitting in one of your comfortable chairs, recording Seulgi's every move. Your Christmas tree in the background really matches Seulgi's outfit.

You tear your eyes off the display, when you hear Irene coming in. She changed into a similar outfit after coming here.

The older woman leans down to capture your lips with hers.

This might become the best Christmas of your life.

Pushing Seulgi aside, Irene straddles you. The younger girl knows better than to complain. She got her fair share of your cock earlier at work. Celebrating the special day, you decided on taking Seulgi's ass, while she was bend over Irene's desk.

The latter has inserted your cock into her pussy and is now riding you. It is definitely her favourite position. It gives her more control over the situation and degrades Seulgi even more. Because Seulgi isn't allowed to ride your cock. She is only here to be used.

You hand her her own phone after finishing the recording, focusing on Irene on your cock. Seulgi gets wet at the fact that she now has something this sexy, but dangerous on her phone.

She watches Irene bouncing in your lap, letting her hand rub her pussy, waiting for her turn to feel your cock.

You spend the rest of the day in both of their pussies, already excited for what's to come tomorrow.

You discovered what Irene did to Seulgi after you fucked her ass. She inserted a butt plug into the younger girl's ass. Now that you remember, you tell Seulgi to turn around. Once she does, you pull up her dress, spreading her ass cheeks apart. The sight almost makes you drool. The metal fits perfectly between Seulgi's cheeks. Something seems to be engraved into it.

"Daddy's play thing"

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

Hi everyone!

I hope you enjoyed the second story. I apologize for the bad quality of Seulgi's pictures and the lack of pictures of Irene in that outfit, but I was unable to find more or better ones.

This took me a little longer, being almost 10k words long. I think this is the most words I've written at once. Sorry for the slight delay, compared to last time.

[gloomwitchwrites]

His teammates call you because he isn't handling the break up well.

I'm gonna be honest, Anon. I went a more humorous route with this (but some angst in there too because why not!) I'm just imagining all of them being completely pathetic and the one calling is on the phone like "come get your man please." So, with that being said, I hope you enjoy this!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, some angst, established relationship, breakups. brief humor

Word Count: 800

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“You have two minutes,” you say immediately after answering your phone.

“You need to call him,” comes Simon’s gruff voice on the other end.

You’ve only met Simon a handful of times, but he’s always been your favorite of John’s team. He has consistently treated you with kindness and respect, and he never oversteps boundaries.

“Why?” you ask, glancing at your nails, pretending you don’t care.

“He fucking misses you.”

“That’s not enough of a reason,” you reply.

It isn’t. Not really. Even if your heart aches and your stomach flips from hearing it.

“Captain isn’t taking the breakup well.”

You want to say that you aren’t either, even though you’re the one who ended things. In reality, you miss John. It’s agonizing.

“And?” you ask, trying to hide the slight crack in your voice.

“He has us running laps around the fucking track, love. Haven’t done that since I was a grunt who couldn’t properly tie his boot laces.”

You sigh. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”

“Yes.” Simon’s response is immediate.

Rubbing your temple, you decide to take a leap. It wouldn’t hurt to talk. Not really. “Fine. I’ll talk to him.”

“Thank fuck,” he breathes.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“This is absurd,” you mutter, rubbing the middle of your brow, irritation building in the back of your head.

“Just give us a few minutes,” comes Captain Price’s voice. It’s Kyle’s boss, but he’s not the only one on the phone.

“Oh, aye. Hear us out.” Soap is there, too.

For all you know, Ghost is lingering on the call, a silent entity listening in but not saying anything.

“Why? Give me a reason?”

“Kyle misses you,” says Price.

“He loves you, lass.”

This isn’t new information. You’re aware of how Kyle feels but that doesn’t change things. The two of you are not together anymore. He needs to move on.

“He’s not handling the breakup well.” This time it’s Ghost. The silent man speaks.

“What do you want me to do,” you sigh.

“Talk to him,” says Price.

“No.”

Your phone buzzes and you hold it away from your ear. It’s a text from Price. You click on it, revealing a photo.

It’s Kyle. He’s curled up in his bed in the barracks, clutching a teddy bear he won you at a carnival on your first date.

“We can come get you,” says Price.

“Fine. I’ll talk to him.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

“I’m sorry, John. But you shouldn’t have called. I don’t want to hear it.”

There is a deep sigh on the other end of the phone. You respect Captain John Price. The few times you’ve met him, he’d been pleasant, and he was always the first one to greet you whenever you visited Johnny on base.

“I understand that you broke it off with him.”

“John—”

“Listen. Please.”

He genuinely sounds concerned, and that gives you pause.

It’s not like you and Johnny ended things on bad terms. His life is busy. It’s dangerous. You just don’t fit in it, and the stress of never knowing when or if he’s going to come home is something far to difficult a thing to carry with you.

“He’s been struggling. Had to corner him in my office to get him to talk. He’s really hurting.”

You swallow. Lick your lips. “Why are you calling me, John?”

“I want you to talk to him.”

“John—”

“Soap is currently facedown in his bed in the barracks. Sulking.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to him.”

“In person,” says John. It sounds like a command. Not an ask.

“Fine, John,” you reply, grabbing your car keys.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“You need to talk to him. Simon is a bloody mess.”

“He’s fine, Johnny. He’ll get over. There was no reason for you to call me.”

Johnny snorts on the other end. “You don’t think so? I thought he was going to crush a new recruit’s skull in this morning.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not interested in talking with Simon right now.”

Is it really a breakup? No. Not really. More like a separation. Simon has your whole heart, but he’s stubborn and cold. His shell is difficult to crack.

“That’s too bad. Because I’m here.”

“You’re—what?”

“Aye. Walking up to your front door right now.”

You blink. Aghast. “John MacTavish you better not—”

There is a sharp series of knocks at your front door. “You gotta be fucking kidding me,” you mutter.

Growling, you storm to the front door, phone still pressed to your ear. You unlatch the deadbolt and yank the door open. Johnny is standing on the other side, his phone also held to his ear. He gives you his biggest grin.

You want to smack it right off his face.

“What are you doing?”

Johnny ends the call. “I’m taking you to Simon.”

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[caws5749]

Useless in A Good Way

A/N: oh, another fic where she writes a pregnant reader… YES IM SORRY but I’ve dreamt of being pregnant since I was little and it’s my biggest dream so here we go again 😭I’m working on requests as well but this just popped into my head. I felt very... out of practice with the last few pieces but writing this... I feel good again.

You laughed lightly, shaking your head at some inappropriate joke Tony made after Clint won the round of whatever card game they were playing. Natasha’s hand rested on your thigh, squeezing accidentally while she laughed. The music played in the background, barely heard over the nearly hundred voices that filled the main room of the compound for the latest party Tony had deemed necessary.

You turned your head towards your wife to admire her for a moment. Nat caught your eye, sending you an admiring smile that she reserved only for you.

“You look radiant,” she murmured, leaning in closer to press a chaste kiss to your lips. You blushed, loving the red that still tainted your cheeks after four years of marriage.

"You look like home," you replied quietly, just barely loud enough for her- and Steve (curse that super soldier's hearing)- to hear.

She really did look like home. Her dress was long sleeve and snug, ending just below her knees and made of the softest cashmere. It was cozy and warm and loving, just like her, just like home.

The smile she let show threatened to overtake her lips, so she ducked her head as she always did. Perhaps even more so, considering the amount of alcohol she'd ingested.

You were the only one not drinking, which probably had something to do with the fact that you were seven months pregnant... with twins. You felt like you could hardly move and you the thought of two more months made you simultaneously groan and smile. Not to mention, you hadn't used your powers in a few months; the pregnancy hormones had affected your abilities in a questionable way, and the last time you had tried to let the familiar cool water flow from your hands, nothing had happened. It simply seemed that they had.. petered out. And you were warned by Dr. Cho to avoid trying to use them too much anyway.

"I should probably go check on the intelligence report," you said, sighing. Given that you were the only completely sober being present, it was your task to check on the latest intelligence report currently running after some curious and daunting messages of late.

Natasha nearly pouted, before standing and gripping your forearms with the gentle strength that only your wife could perfect. You groaned, all of your muscles giving maximum effort to stand from a seated position, your large abdomen giving you little room to move.

"God, I have two more months of that," you muttered.

"And it's only going to get harder," Clint chimed in, chuckling sympathetically. You sent him a mock glare.

"I'll go with you," Nat stated, a hand falling to your back. She hardly let you go anywhere alone, not that you minded. Living in the Avengers compound was one of the safest places there was, but it also was a target.

"Sit, I'll go," Steve said, "I've got to check on Bucky anyway."

"Finally, Natasha, it is your turn to lose so one money," Tony grinned, shuffling the deck of cards. Your wife retook her seat, rolling her eyes.

Steve met you next to the couch, offering an arm, which you took gladly. The team had been nothing but supportive after finding out about the pregnancy. They were all in agreement regarding your safety and protection. It was automatic at this point for them to watch over you, something that warmed your heart daily.

"How is Bucky?" you questioned.

"He misses being able to walk," Steve chuckled. "That's what he gets for fighting on a torn knee."

"It's been a week since surgery, right?"

He nodded. "And another week before he'll be able to get up and walk on it."

You hummed sympathetically. It was what all of you hated the most- feeling useless, being unable to be an Avenger. You had grown quite accustomed to the feeling.

Your friend, reached out with his other hand to open the door for you, following you inside the intelligence room, curious what the report would say too.

You studied the screen and briefly leafed through some papers, stopping at another odd message printed. Your brow furrowed.

"What is it?" Steve asked.

"It's a date. Today," you answered, looking up to read his expression.

You'd seen the confusion and slight nervousness in his face before glass shattered in the not-so-far distance. Steve looked at you, panicked.

"We need to get you to the bunker."

"We don't even know what's-"

"It doesn't matter," he interrupted. Shouting then could be heard, growing closer in a split second. "Now."

You moved as quickly as you could, exiting only after Steve cleared the hallway. The two of you moved with expertise, albeit a bit slower than normal, towards the stairs. He helped you down the stairs, hurrying you along without rushing you. When you turned down the hallway that held the bunker, several beings masked in dark leather suits and glowing face shields awaited you.

"Stay back," Steve commanded, not even waiting for a response before running toward them at full speed. He pulled a knife from his pocket and set to work. You felt utterly useless, powerless, as you watched them swarm him. A few tried to sneak past to you, but he wouldn't let them come even close. You stood, anxious, barely breathing. Two swift hits to the stomach and knees had Steve knocked on the ground, stumbling for his footing. On instinct, you stepped forward, hands out in front of you.

You had no thoughts as you summoned the familiar tingle of your powers, forgetting completely that they may not even work for you. When coolness flowed through your fingertips, you only then realized you hadn't been able to do that for a while, and you probably shouldn't be doing it now.

But it didn't matter, there were enemies at hand, and you were an Avenger.

So you let a wave hit the men with everything you had. It was nowhere what you had attempted to do, but it worked nonetheless. It gave Steve the opportunity he needed to jump up and take them out quickly.

He took the remaining problems out with ease and then ran back to you.

"Are you hurt?"

"No, you?"

"You shouldn't have used your powers," he said aloud, more a fact and realization at what you had done rather than a scolding.

"I know."

"Bunker," he stated, gently pushing you towards the door. "Stay inside until you get the 'all clear."

You nodded, finding the hidden keypad and locking yourself inside.

++++++

When Steve returned back up to the party, he found several similar bodies strewn about and a few slightly out of breath Avengers.

"Y/N?" Natasha demanded.

"In the bunker, safe and unharmed."

She nodded, a thanks to her good friend.

"Anybody know what the hell is going on?" Clint asked, setting his bow and arrow down.

"Just today's date written down in a message, we just saw it in the report but couldn't piece anything together," Steve answered.

Natasha heard that and knew there was nothing to answer for now, so she started towards the hallway.

"Nat, she used her powers."

Your wife turned on her heel at that, whipping in the soldier's direction faster than lightning.

"Call Cho," was all she said.

++++++

"Natasha is entering," JARVIS announced, causing you to sit upright, eyes glued to the door.

"Oh, thank god," your wife muttered, seeing you sitting unscathed. "Are you alright?" She rushed over to you, kneeling in front of you, eyes scanning your form, hand coming to rest against your cheek after she found nothing.

"I'm fine. Are you?" You turned to plant a kiss to her palm.

"Fine. You used your powers."

"Well, somewhat. They didn't work exactly right," you responded, frowning.

"What happened?"

You told her how you had saved Steve, well only by giving him a slight edge.

"What's wrong?" Natasha asked gently, picking up on your rather displeased tone.

"I feel useless," you whispered, tears pooling in your eyes as you shifted your gaze downward. Gentle fingers tugged your chin upwards until you were forced to meet those familiar emerald eyes.

"You are growing two human beings. That is not useless. I know you aren't avenging right now, but you did just save Steve, even if your powers were limited. Just because you can't do what you normally used to doesn't mean you aren't doing other things that aren't just as amazing, baby."

The corners of your lips twitched upwards, your mood already lifting.

"That's my girl. Now let's go upstairs, Cho is going to check you out."

"Natasha, I'm-"

"I don't care if you're fine," she tutted. "I'm not taking any chances."

With that, she kissed you softly and helped you upright.

++++++

BONUS

"And you know what she said?" Steve asked, a hand placed over his heart as he sat next to Bucky in bed. "You look like home." He sighed softly, as he thought of his two friends who were so beyond perfect for one another.

"How is that supposed to make my knee better?"