#on the way to the jet car

[lies]

team banzai for life

[comic-sans-chan]

cursed modern human garashir au where ds9 is an old ruined resort that was built by some evil rich motherfuckers years ago and was recently seized back by the native people whose land and economy it had destroyed. it's since been converted into an affordable apartment complex sort of situation (just... with a pool, bar, restaraunts, spa and tennis court built into it lol) and is run by sisko and kira. since it is rundown, odo gets hired back on to keep kids from further vandalizing it and o'brien's team gets hired on from the nonprofit organization sisko works for to fix the place up best he can. dukat is the old overseer of the property who drops by sometimes to remind them he and his hospitality business still exist, and my, what a fine job they’ve done renovating the place! it’s actually nice again. sure would be a shame if someone bought the property out from under them (lmao jk kardasi hospitality and starfleet are friends! no hard feelings. they should collaborate on some future projects, actually).

garak's a sad bitch who just lost his amazing morally dubious nepotism career at obsidian corp. (which absorbed kardasi hospitality) and moved into the complex just for the comfortingly familiar architecture. even tho he's not on the payroll for his (secret) dad's evil exploitative company anymore he's still vital to its continued efficiency and is an absolute sucker who still does unpaid shady work for them from time to time. so no one in the complex likes him, but also he's a very pleasant and fastidious queer man who pays his rent on time and has completely taken over the laundry room, to the benefit of everyone, because all the machines actually work now, it's always tidy, and there's a variety of forever-stocked detergents and soaps available, plus an iron?? there was not an iron before garak moved in. which is how it eventually becomes public knowledge that garak has an online tailoring and fashion design business, and he's actually pretty good at restoring clothes that get fucked by the washing machine or eaten by rats, soooo. yeah. they let him stick around.

meanwhile julian's a hot doctor who works at the local hospital and is absolutely buried in student debt that he refuses to let his moderately-wealthy family help him with because they're awful people who had him on illegal drugs without his knowledge since he was a little kid. they were afraid he had something wrong with him, apparently. he was too far behind in his class or w/e. they couldn't handle having a kid with special needs, so they pumped him full of dangerous experimental stimulants. only reason he found out is because he snuck off somewhere to start transitioning and had some tests done that revealed all the crazy shit in his system. he's insanely lucky he didn't end up in the hospital with seizures or fall into a coma or worse. not to mention his parents still dead-name him left and right over a decade later. it's a whole mess and a huge secret, because he technically has a history with illegal drug abuse, and it's a partially ongoing history because going cold turkey off drugs he's been on since he was six is Not A Good Idea, so??? fuck his life, actually. he lives in the apartment just down the hall from garak's. 

garak hates the country his dad's company expanded into and would like nothing better than to move back home, but it's not really logistically possible. especially since everyone there hates him cuz his (secret) dad's company is a mega-corporation that's completely taken over everything p much and is a complete monopoly nightmare, and he did... kinda... work there for decades. no one would hire him if he went back. it would be an extreme conflict of interest, since everyone wants to stay on tain's good side, including garak. but starfleet is interested in him, so he does some begrudging contract work for them sometimes, but he really has no desire to join them. he just wants to resume his old career and reclaim his assets.

julian's hospital is owned by starfleet, tho. his scholarship into medical school was also from starfleet, in fact--they're the only reason he was able to (sort of) afford becoming a doctor at all. so he's a big fan, even tho they are pretty hardcore anti-drugs in a way that's made him have to forge medical records and risk serious legal charges and prison time. julian comes across as a squeaky clean medical professional and an adorable idiot, but he's intimately familiar with back-alley dealings. which is kind of how he ends up helping garak with his drug addiction, and keeps said addiction off the record.

but basically, how it begins is julian likes to support the local restaurants in the complex and garak finds him there and thinks he's gorgeous, and it proceeds as expected. they fuck nasty and become codependent. ten years later, julian lives in a modest house with garak in his home country and garak irons all his old university hoodies.

[franklyimissparis]

jet skis on the moat: a queer-coded line-by-line lyrical analysis

this one was highly requested by me, myself, and i btw. sorry it’s so long, i truly cannot be concise when analysing alex’s lyrics, i get too into all of the different possibilities lmao.

Jet skis on the moat

- the titular line of the song is an interesting juxtaposition that could be interpreted in many different ways as jet-skiing, an adventurous and adrenaline-seeking activity, is contrasted with the defensive confines of a moat. the moat could be a metaphor for alex’s defenses around himself and his feelings, with the idea of jet-skiing around a moat being akin to doing something that should be fun and freeing while in defence mode.

- it could also imply that things are going in circles, like moats often do. that they’re having a good time but they aren’t able/willing to explore beyond the safety and comfort of their private spaces.

- to me, the phrase also invokes the idea of both being kept close to home (and never allowed to explore without inhibitions) but also being forbidden to enter fully into alex’s inner self

They shot it all in CinemaScope

- cinemascope is a lens adapter invented in the 50s for projectors that can expand the traditional screen to a wider length while using the existing equipment. we know that alex loves film imagery and this ties into the themes he often plays at while using said imagery of performance vs. reality.

- the use of cinemascope also implies to me the idea of making something (or someone) better for a bigger audience - this could tie in with alex’s personas and hiding the true self or referencing the band’s commercial successes. it also implies that there’s something beyond the traditional screen, the picture (or story) stretches out further than is seen with a normal lens. the idea of the lens being removable is also notable, the picture can be seen either way with the original equipment but the lens makes it more impressive. again i think this all ties in with the idea of performance and choosing to present things in a certain light.

- “they” implies that there is an audience or crew watching alex and the subject of the song, the two of them are not shooting this together, it’s being captured by a third party who is presenting things differently than originally intended

As though it's the last time you're gonna ride

- i can’t talk about this line without addressing the sexual undertones of the word “ride” lol. it could refer to the sexual aspect of their relationship, the last ride being the last time they’ll sleep together, or the relationship itself as if this is a couple who has split up and gotten back together multiple times

- with the previous line as well, it implies that the experience of their relationship is being captured (potentially by others) to preserve it, though they don’t see the full picture

- the phrasing “as though” is vague enough to leave it up to interpretation as to whether or not it actually will be the last time, somewhat implying to me that calling it a “last time” is something they’ve done before

- this could also refer to the public and private speculation that the band is finished or the somewhat unfounded worries that their commercial success is slipping away

Showstoppers anonymous

- this is a play on alcoholics anonymous/narcotics anonymous and implies that being a showstopper is somewhat of an addiction. it also invokes the idea that this isn’t a solitary experience by referencing the idea like a group meeting, alex’s lover also has a complex relationship with fame.

- the phrase could also poke at the idea of alex’s personas being disconnected from his true self, the showstopper would actually prefer to be (or has to be) anonymous in some sense.

- like in AA meetings, this could also refer to hiding their affiliation from the world or hiding their true identities within these meet-ups

Come over here and give your buddy a hug

- the word “buddy” implies a platonic relationship (i would say it also implies a friendship with another man but that’s very subjective.) with the later references to this person as a lover, we can infer that their relationship is not just platonic which poses the question of why alex would choose to refer to a lover this way. it could be to emphasise the friendship at the core of the relationship as being the more important or prominent aspect. it could also suggest that alex finds the romantic/sexual elements of the relationship uncomfortable to some extent.

- interestingly, this line is also a direct parallel to “come here and kiss me now before it gets too cute” from mr schwartz, suggesting a connection between the two. while this line can certainly be read as platonic, the line from mr schwartz is explicitly romantic.

- also the first two lines of verse one rhyme, making the listener expect these lines to rhyme as well. in alex’s pronunciation, anonymous would be a near rhyme with kiss and it is slightly surprising to hear hug instead.

So much for decidin' not to let it slide

- it sounds as though either alex or his lover feels that the other did something to wrong them which they refuse to forgive this time, but they end up ‘giving in’ eventually.

- in the context of the showstoppers anonymous line, it could imply that their relationship feels like enabling an addiction, that it is something they come back to time and time again despite saying they won’t. and also that their relationship is directly tied to the fame that they share.

- also interesting to ask: is he addressing himself or his lover? is he the one letting it slide or his lover? the previous line seems to imply that alex is asking the other person to come to him, which could imply that his lover is giving in for agreeing or that he’s giving in by reaching out (or both.)

Is there somethin' on your mind

Or are you just happy to sit there and watch While the paint job dries?

- alex’s lover is troubled over the state of their situation but it’s less painful to just ignore the topic.

- the paint imagery is very interesting as alex has a habit of using paint as a sexual metaphor for a certain bodily fluid - with ‘body paint’ and also in anyways (‘you go hard in the paint’)

- watching paint dry generally refers to something being boring or tedious which could imply that alex’s lover would rather do something painfully dull than discuss the issues in their relationship. but paint can also be used to cover things up which could refer to the idea of hiding the issues within the relationship or with hiding the relationship itself (asking: are you really happy to just let me hide things or will you take a stand?)

- if we think about the implication that this relationship has been off- and on-again, it could refer to ‘fixing up’ the relationship with a new coat of paint - doing surface level things to try to repair the damage - and alex could be asking if they’re willing to wait for things to look better again or if they want to call it quits now

When it's over, you're supposed to know

- this line could also be taken in many ways. it could be in the sense of alex feeling almost pitiful for his lover (or himself), who won’t admit that their relationship is actually over. but it could also refer to it being hard to tell whether the relationship is actually over or not - particularly if the line between having a platonic/romantic relationship has always been blurry with them (like we see with the use of “buddy” etc.)

- the phrasing ‘supposed to know’ implies that they don’t actually know about the state of things, though they’re both aware that they should, also reminds me of the line “the fact that neither you and i has ever had a clue” from mr schwartz

Lights out in the Wonder Park

- i couldn’t find anything to suggest that the ‘wonder park’ refers to any real place so i would wager that it’s alex’s take on a fictional amusement park as a metaphor for the ups and downs of his relationship with the other person.

- the idea of the lights going out in contrast to the “wonder park” implies that the joy and amazement of the relationship has been turned off. it could refer to the relationship being off- and on-again with the implication that the lights will likely turn back on at some point. (which could be connected to “the gloved hand’s reaching in to hit the switch” from mr schwartz)

- to me, “the wonder park” also implies having an audience or crowd around. so lights out here could also refer to stopping a performance, etc.

Your saw-toothed lover boy was quick off the mark

- its interesting to pose if he’s talking about himself or his lover here. i know a lot of people interpret saw-toothed to mean crooked teeth like a certain musical partner in alex’s life but i think the phrase could also represent a ‘sharp tongue/mouth’ with the idea of him (or his lover) normally being witty or cutting but being caught off guard by the situation (similar to the ‘angle grinder smile’ from sculptures of anything goes)

- “quick off the mark” means to be slow to react to a situation which could also tie in with the idea of “watching paint dry” instead of talking about the relationship: they’re reluctant to actually change the back and forth element of their relationship.

- the use of the phrase “lover boy” also solidifies that this is a relationship that is at least somewhat romantic/sexual in nature (vs the earlier use of buddy), it’s telling that this more intimate phrase isn’t used until later in the song

That's long enough in the sunshine for one night

- this line could reference the idiom of something to “seeing the light of day” i.e. to be revealed to the public/to be open, their relationship won’t see the light of day with the sunshine instead being found in the nights

- sunshine could also represent a warmth or happy period in their relationship. with the previous lines, it could imply that they got together/met up again briefly but it didn’t last.

- the phrase “that’s long enough” implies that alex is the one to feel as though things have gone on too long, even though he feels the warmth of it too (he likes the sunshine (or relationship) but he doesn’t think it belongs in the context of the night)

Didn't recognise you through the smoke

- this is a play on the idea of “smoke and mirrors” which ties in with alex’s use of personas and the idea of obscuring the truth.

- implies that alex (or the other person) is used to being able to see through the fantasy but it’s been dialled up since their falling out and they are now obscured.

- could also refer to one of them being deceptive about their feelings, particularly for the other

- also could imply the other person is smoking a lot, etc. which could tie in with the idea of fame/their relationship being an addiction: people sometimes replace heavier drugs with excessive nicotine as a step in their recovery. it could also just imply that the other person is a bit of a mess if they’ve started smoking more.

Pyjama pants and a Subbuteo cloak

- subbuteo is a table-top game where you flick around little football players on a field that is placed similarly to a tablecloth. there was an interview where alex spoke about how he would wear the table-top subbuteo pitch as a cape as a kid. it’s unclear whether alex or the other person is meant to be the one wearing the unusual combination.

- wearing pyjama pants implies a sense of intimacy and vulnerability between the two to see each other in that state, especially as one would not generally wear them in public.

- the combination of the pyjama pants with the subbuteo cloak invokes a sense of nostalgia and innocence, particularly in relation to alex’s memories, as well as implies that the person is kind of dysfunctional to be wearing a sleeping garment in combination with a non-clothing item.

- the use of the subbuteo field as clothing is also interesting as it is a traditionally masculine symbol being used to cover-up or guard oneself - which ties in with the next line.

- the subbuteo field is also an interesting choice as the game centres around people controlling a full team of players in order to win. with one person wearing the field, it could imply that they are being strategic about controlling others or that they themselves are being controlled.

You know that it's alright if you wanna cry

- this is another line that could easily apply to either alex or his lover but i think it ties in well with the first line from there’d better be a mirrorball “don’t get emotional, that’s not like you” which alex has said is directed at himself.

- alex is telling himself or his lover that it’s okay to express their emotions and be upset about the situation, implying that they usually are not as forthcoming or overtly emotional or that they may be hiding their true feelings in the presence of the other to appear less invested or devastated

to summarise: alex and his lover had a falling out over their off- and on-again relationship going in circles and potentially being hidden. neither of them took the split well and they are trying to figure out where they stand with each other and what their connection will mean for them now.

[littlefleamart]

(source)

[angerygoomba]

getting into bob ross again cause of jet set radio. the pipeline is real.

[suzuki-ecstar]

fernando + valtteri might be the sleeper combo of the year

[gwendolynnderolo]

i have work in 11 hours and i just started the second season of never have i ever after binging the entire first season in one go. i regret nothing

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

i'm down on my knees, i wanna take you there

summary: you are suiting up for your first mission, the only problem being everyone "forgot" (intentionally withheld) this information from Logan wc: 2.3k a/n: thank you thank you so much for all of your support about my other Logan fic!! I am really enjoying writing for him, and have a few ideas for this Logan as well as some for Worst!Wolverine aka Deadpool 3!Logan as well! More info about empath!reader's powers and her role at the school in this one <3 warnings: slight (incredibly) slight angst, protective!Logan, a bit of a hurt comfort vibe, Ororo, Scott and Jean are meddlers this is the previous fic with these two, not required reading at all, though!

The leather was cool and surprisingly soft against your skin. There had never been reason for you to have to accompany a mission requiring one of the suits before, and you were shocked at how comfortable the uniform was. Typically, when you were asked to help with a mission, you were there for intel. Scope the place out, get a read on the general vibe of the place. Your powers didn’t provide the same level of protection as laser eyes or a strong regenerative healing factor. You would typically arrive with Rogue, in clothes from your own closet and one of the least fancy cars from the garage. You would slip in, get your read, and get out. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to help, you just lacked the training that the other members of the team had. And after all, someone had to stay back to mind things at the school. When Charles had approached you a few months ago about some possible applications for your mutation that would come in handy on missions, you’d been hesitant. It was so outside of your comfort zone to load yourself onto a jet that you’d never even considered the possibility. You were far more comfortable in the library where you held English classes for the students, or helping Charles keep students calm while exploring their powers. Neither scenario included the possibility of a lot of violence. 

Ororo helped you finish zipping yourself into the suit, smoothing her hands along the sleeves before giving you a final nod of approval. Jean and Scott granted you small smiles and you did your best to look as confident as you knew they felt. 

They’d promised it was a simple mission, the kind they usually took students on when Charles felt they were ready to join the team, if that’s what they decided to do after wrapping up their schooling. Charles had heard word of a young mutant who had some kind of telekinetic powers and had recently had an eruption while at school. Everyone agreed that it would be best to find them and convince them to return to the school for some training with as little force as possible, only expedited by the fact that Charles had found them hungry and afraid after running away from home using Cerebro. In the past, the kids had been resistant due to huge amounts of fear, causing them to lash out. You knew they were right that your powers would be useful at times like these, and if you were able to help in any way you were inclined to. 

“The fuck do you think you’re doing to her?” You sighed. It wasn’t that you were all conspiring to keep this a secret from Logan. It wasn’t a discussion that you’d had to agree on group espionage. It just seemed that all of you had a sort of understanding that it might be better to ask forgiveness rather than permission. Not that you needed permission. 

Logan looked furious, and what’s worse, he felt furious. You and Charles had been working to extend your powers over further distances, no longer needing to touch someone directly to know how they feel. Though it certainly doesn’t hurt matters. You’d sensed him upstairs, seemingly pacing around and seething. You’d hoped one of the kids had gotten on his nerves, or something on tv had set him off. You could see that was foolish now. 

“We aren’t doing anything to her,” Scott had his visor on, blocking his eyes from view, but you didn’t need to see to know that he was rolling his eyes. “She’s chosen to accompany us on a mission.” 

“A small mission!” Ororo chimed in, doing her best to give Logan a reassuring smile. 

You checked back in with his aura. Still furious. But it was a nice try, you supposed. Logan’s hackles were raised, his chest heaving. This certainly wouldn’t do. “Can I have a moment with you,” you glanced around the room, briefly meeting the other three mutant’s eyes. “Alone?” 

Logan was still staring daggers at Scott. He wasn’t even the one who suggested you were ready to come along. Jean and Charles had approached you this morning. You laid a hand against his arm, hoping to lead him out of the room, but he flinched away. The pang in your heart was immediate. Did he really think you were so callous that you would ever use your powers without his express permission, or some kind of emergency. You could feel the tears starting to gather in the corner of your eye, your arms wrapping protectively around your midsection. 

Jean slipped one arm through Scott’s and took Ororo’s hand with her other, gently leading them out of the room. “We are going to check a few things with the jet, last minute.” She began to hustle them out of the room. “Call if you need anything!” 

The door shut firmly behind them, and you were left alone with Logan, who looked like he was going to start shaking. “I wasn’t going to-”

“You don’t think I know that?” You can’t help but recoil. You have never been afraid of Logan, even when it may have been in your best judgement to be wary, and you still aren’t. But you can’t deny that it hurts when he snaps at you. Especially when you thought, well. You thought you were growing close. You started to turn away, but before you could, a warm hand caught ahold of your arm. “I’m not… fuck.” He took a heaving breath, shaking his head as if he could clear whatever thoughts were bothering him. “I’m not mad.” 

Despite the serious energy of the conversation, you couldn’t help the incredulous look you shot his way. He tried his best to hide it, but you could see the corner of his mouth turning up at you. “Fine, I’m not mad at you.” 

“You know, you really can’t be mad at anyone, they were just doing-” you were cut off when you fell Logan’s hand traveling down your arm, and pushing your sleeve up gently from where it was covering your hand. He slipped his hand into yours and you felt yourself relax a bit. “Just, take a look, yeah?” 

“Are you sure you want me to?”

“I trust you, bub.” You searched his eyes for any sign of hesitancy, but all you found was trust. Complete and utter trust. You nodded, tightening your own grip on his hand. Doing your best not to let the gentle rub of his thumb against your knuckles distract you, you took a deep breath and opened yourself up to his feelings. 

At first you did feel anger, bright red and hot. You sifted past it, steeling yourself. The first time you had encountered such strong anger, you had felt as if you were going to collapse. But you were stronger now, more prepared to deal with these kinds of feelings. The anger was strong, but also surprisingly shallow. In the depths of his emotions, Logan was worried. Terrified. A deep dark purple that made your own hands shake. His grip on your hand tightened, effectively drawing you back to yourself. There was more, a soft inviting pink that you didn’t dare to touch and shiny bright gold, which told you he was proud. 

You opened your eyes, fighting back the heat you felt creeping onto your cheeks. His expression hadn’t changed, pure trust and tenderness. It should have been disarming, or at the very least surprising. Logan wasn’t so open and honest with people. But the two of you had always had different expectations for the other. 

You couldn’t help it, a smile crept over your features. “You’re proud of me?” 

He rolled his eyes, but his smile only grew. He took your free hand in his, pulling you in closer. “I’m always proud of you.” He hesitated for a brief moment, and you did your best to bite your tongue. You could tell Logan had been making an effort to open up lately, and not just to you, but that didn’t make prolonged silences and easier to bear. “I know it’s not my place to demand anything of you.” 

“You’re my… friend.” You cut him off, wincing at the pause. It didn’t feel like the time to pressure him into labeling whatever feelings may be floating around. “And I always want to hear my friend’s opinions. What’s bothering you so badly?” 

“I could hear your heartbeat from upstairs.” Your eyes grew wide, too shocked to try to school your expression. Logan had told you several times that he had learned to block out his enhanced hearing when he was quite young. Usually to tease you when you got on a long tangent about something you enjoyed. He pretended to zone out and ignore you, but he would always remember small details about your rants, bringing them up nonchalantly at a later date  “I, uh, keep an ear out sometimes. Helps with the worry.” 

He worries about you? Even more surprising, he’s listening to your heartbeat like background music to his day. You promise yourself you will ask him about it when you don’t have a room full of your friends waiting on you. “I thought we’d covered this. I can take care of myself.” 

He sighed, bringing a hand to rest gently where your jaw meets your neck. “Sweetheart, I know you can. But that doesn’t stop me from watching out for you.” 

Your hand moved to rest overtop of his. “The good news is that I will have lots of people watching out for me. You know they won’t let anything happen.” You receive a single huff in return. He’s not convinced. “You know that these are the kinds of missions we send the kids on. I’ll be fine.” 

He considers for a moment, before dropping his hand and nodding. “Give me a second to get changed, and we will head out.” 

You grabbed for his hand, but he was already out the door, and moving too fast for you to stop. “Logan, don’t be ridiculous.” 

“What’s ridiculous is you thinking that I would ever let you go out there alone.” 

“As we already established, I have three very capable friends coming with me. I am only going as a contingency plan.”

“Well then consider me the contingency to the contingency plan.” You huffed, following him next door. 

You darted around in front of Logan, pushing against his chest with all your strength, even if you were fully aware that it was the equivalent of a fly buzzing around him. He stopped all the same, eyebrows pulled together in frustration. “I know you’re worried and I know that this is you trying to help.” Logan had his I’m about to interrupt you look on his face, leaving you to shove him again. Thankfully, he understood your intention. “This is important to me. You can’t be there every time, and I have to stand on my own two feet. I want to contribute to the work we do here more than just teaching kids about how awesome Shakespeare is.” The look was back. “Which is still an important contribution.” You added, which seemed to appease him. “But, I don’t want it to be my only contribution. So I am going to go and make sure that this scared kid who is all alone out there makes it back here safe. And you are going to stay here and make sure that everyone gets dinner and help with their assignments. And then when I get back, we are going to have a talk about all this.” 

“All this?” A smile crept back onto your face, hearing the teasing tone in his voice. 

“Oh my god shut up!” He caught your hands before they made contact with his chest, but he was slow to let go this time. He brought the back of both of your hands to his mouth, dropping a small kiss on each one, before returning your hands to your side. 

“If you come back with so much as a bump to the head, Scott’s dead.” 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, and pointing out that this was exactly what you were talking about earlier did little to sway him. So you gave in, agreeing to give him a full report before slipping your hand into his and tugging him towards the jet. 

“We’ll be back in a bit.” You promised. You could feel the others staring from just inside the jet, but you barely noticed. Logan was checking over your suit meticulously, tugging zippers a few more clicks up and making sure that the collar wasn’t too tight around your neck. He kneeled down, checking to make sure the laces on your boots were double knotted. “Logan,” you laughed, reaching down to tilt his head up to look at you. “I’m too seconds away from sending a lot of exhaustion your way and leaving you passed out in here. You have to let me go, it’s going to be fine.” 

He remained kneeling for a second too long, a look in his eyes you couldn’t entirely place. The sound of the jet powering on broke the both of you out of your trance. He was on his feet in a flash, checking over you one final time. You rose up on your tippy toes, balancing by resting your hands on his shoulders, before gently kissing him on the cheek. You pulled back, nose scrunched up from the tickle of his facial hair. “We’ll be back in a few hours. Hold down the fort for us, yeah?” 

He nodded, pupils slightly blown out and a dreamy look on his face. You giggled, walking backwards for as long as you can before turning around and finding a seat on the jet. You could feel Jean and Scott’s eyes on you as Ororo began maneuvering the jet out of the garage. “Don’t even start.” You muttered, settling firmly into your seat, doing your best to soak up the pride and confidence the others were projecting into the cockpit. 

as always, feedback is so appreciated! if you have any requests for these two/wolverine in general, please leave them here!

next part

[motorsportbarbie13]

A Package Deal - Part 2

In which something a little more serious and a lot more meaningful than either of you anticipated starts to blossom between you and your curly haired crush.

Warnings: nothing, this is so tooth achingly fluffy, you may need a trip to the dentist afterwards. Pairing: Lando x SingleMom!Reader Word Count: 5.3k (oops)

Master List

(quick note in case anyone is paying super close attention. i switched the job reader has at McLaren to fit this bit of plot in. I think switched all mentions over in part one, but just in case you notice the different job title, that was on purpose :) )

yourusername (private) posted:

110 likes liked by landonorris, BFFSarah, coworkerMolly, and others yourusername scenes from the longest winter break ever landonorris is Stella baking me more cookies??? >>>yourusername she gave all gingerbread men mullets 'just like lando', what do you think? >>>landonorris thats my girl!! coworkerMolly that skirt on you is INSANE btw >>>yourusername ;)

The holidays slip away in a blur of presents and hot cocoa dates with Stella so fast that before you know it, school is beginning again and you're forced back into the office on a regular basis. With the way the holidays fell this year, you ended up taking nearly two weeks of annual leave between Christmas and New Years and while you appreciated the time off to reset and battle burnout your job inevitably brought on, by the time you dropped Stella off at school that first morning, you were near ecstatic with relief.

You didn't want to admit it to anyone, not even barely to yourself, but you also had missed Lando. He'd spent Christmas at his parents for a few days before jetting off to somewhere gorgeous and warm with his friends and while he texted you near constantly, you often found yourself wondering what he was doing. You hated how much you looked forward to the chime on your phone alerting you to a new text but even more, you hated how much your heart stuttered in your chest every time you saw it was his name that was lighting up your phone.

You had told Sarah about running into Lando at Harrods that Saturday and then made the mistake of telling her that he had bought the booster seat (downright refusing to allow you to even split the cost it with him) and driven you home. She had grinned like a cat with warm milk, saying she knew something was going on but was wildly excited when you told her about the drive home.

Like you had predicted, Stella had been fast asleep by the time Lando had merged onto the freeway. She had stayed sound asleep even after you had reached your house, Lando allowing his Range Rover to idle for nearly twenty minutes in your driveway as you chatted. The conversation was quiet, neither of you wanting to wake a sleeping Stella but it flowed as easily as champagne on New Years Eve.

As you sat in the passengers seat of the SUV you couldn't help the way your mind wandered into the 'what ifs' of what was happening here. What if everything hadn't been ruined the moment Lando found out that Stella was yours? What if that, despite everything being against you, this was the time it all worked out. They were dangerous thoughts, especially for a single mom who couldn't allow her heart to be compromised. There was another heart that had to be taken into consideration: Stella's fragile six year old heart. So when Lando had started allowing his gaze to wander down to your lips and leaning almost imperceptably closer towards you with each passing moment, you had ignored his advances. You didn't want to, but you were scared. The what if's scared you but the what ifs not working out scared you even more.

You had slipped out of the car before anything could happen, thankful for the fact that Stella began to finally stir after nearly 30 minutes of you and Lando talking.

After that night, the texting had started and while Lando hadn't visted the MTC since, he had made a point to check in with you a few times each day. He didn't want to get ahead of himself, reminding himself of how you had ever so subtly rejected his advances the night he had taken you and Stella home.

As he had been analyzing the evening the next day with Max, his best friend had all but warned him off of you. 'Being with a single mom is a challenge that I don't think you're up for, mate.' Had been his warning, a warning that Lando had so far, chosen to ignore. He knew it was kind of a crazy thing to consider, especially with the lifestyle that he had become accustomed to over the last few years, but there was something magnetic about you. The way you sacrificed everything in order to make sure Stella was taken care of. The way you took on everything solo despite having a solid support system, because you didn't want to be a burden to anyone. The way you still managed to find magic in a life that had to be full of heartache and difficulties.

You were a magnetic force to be reckoned with and the fact that you had opened up to Lando that night in the car while Stella slept soundly in his back seat was something that he cherished.

It was also why he found himself nervously pacing outside of Sarah's office one January morning after he had returned from his vacation in Finland. The new season was fast approaching and it was time to get down to business and spend more time in the sim and at the MTC, making sure he was ready to give everything for the 2025 season. But he also had other reasons to be at the MTC even more: you.

Sarah is in her office that chilly January morning when she hears shuffling outside her door. It's propped open so all it takes is a quick peek outside. "Lando?" She calls, spying the driver hovering outside her door, hands shoved deep into his pockets as he paced the empty corridor.

"Oh. Hi. Sorry." Lando pushes his curls off his face, stepping into the brightly lit office. "Am I interrupting? I can totally come back..."

Sarah nearly laughs at the anxious energy radiating off of Lando but manages to quell it, not wanting to spook him. "No, it's fine. What can I do for you?"

"I...well..." Lando cards his hand hand through his hair once again, searching for the right words. He hadn't gotten the best reception from Max when he opened up about his feelings for you, so he was really nervous about what your best friend was going to say. He didn't want to get told off by her too. "I was wondering if I could ask you for a favor?"

Sarah smirks. "Does this favor have to do with our favorite single mom who works down the hall?"

Lando goes crimson at the question but a bit of him feels relieved at the smile that plays on Sarah's face. "Uh...It does actually. I was wondering if you would be willing to babysit Stella Saturday night so I could take her out to dinner and maybe a movie or something."

Sarah pushes away from her desk, the look on her face transforming from smug to soft admiration. "You really like her, don't you?"

Lando nods earnestly, "I do. Stella kind of threw me for a loop there at first but after spending time with them before Christmas..." He drops the rest of the sentence then, not sure if he should be opening up this much to your best friend. She probably knew how you felt about him already but it was a natural reaction for him to keep his feelings closely held. "I know our lifestyles are not exactly...compatible but she's amazing and I just want to spend more time with her."

"You'd be lucky to land a girl like her, Lando." Sarah observes, leaning back in her chair. "And while I agree, your lifestyles are radically different, I think you two could be good for each other."

"Yeah?" Lando's voice is a wash of relief, having expected to face the same criticism that he had faced from Max.

"Yeah, I do. I'd be happy to take Stella for the night as long as she's okay with it. Have you asked her?"

Lando shakes his head. "I wanted to make sure you were okay with it first."

"Can I give you some advice though?" When Lando nods, Sarah continues. "You're going to have to be patient with her. She's been through a lot and she has a lot on her shoulders. She doesn't need someone adding to that load. She needs someone who's going to help her carry that load, take some things off her shoulders. And if that's not something you think you can do, don't even start anything with her. If you're not all in with her and Stella, please don't pursue anything further, okay?"

Lando leans against the door frame, taking in your best friend's words. "I'd never do anything to add to what she already carries." He says softly and Sarah grins.

"Good. Tell her I'll take Stella for one of our famous sleepovers, yeah? Treat her well, Lando. I don't want to have to kick your ass if you hurt her."

"Thanks, Sarah. I'd never hurt her, I promise."

"Good. Now get, I think she's leaving after lunch today to get Stella for a dentist appointment. She should still be in her office though."

yourusername (private) posted a story:

replies: BFFSarah oh my GODDDDDDDD! you're going to give the poor boy a heart attack. >>>yourusername stoppppp, i'm so nervous. >>>BFFSarah not as nervous as he was when he was in my office on Tuesday asking me to babysit Stella ;) landonorris well hello pretty girl. is that outfit for me? >>>yourusername maybe ;)

"Wait, so you were the one who came up with the idea for that tire deg prediction program?" Lando stares at you from across the table, jaw nearly hitting the white linen tablecloth.

You blush into your wine, not good at taking compliments. The small Italian restaurant that Lando had booked a table at was quiet and cozy, allowing both of you to focus on the person sitting across from you and not anything else. It was nice, getting out of the house without Stella in tow. As much as you adored your daughter and valued every single second spent with her, sometimes it was really nice to have some time away. You were on your second glass of wine and your head was buzzing delightfully, the look on Lando's face as you fell into conversation about the work you were so passionate about sent something that felt a lot like desire curling deep in your belly.

"That was me. I'm actually working on an improved model for the upcoming season. More inputs like weather and historical degradation data should help the model give Andrea and the team a better idea of when the ideal pit window for you and Oscar will be in real time."

Lando just stares at you, dumbfounded. He had known bits and pieces of your job from the time he spent accosting you with questions over the last six months but he had never realized how deeply ingrained you were in his weekend routine already. "That program helped me win Miami last year." He says, totally awestruck.

You fidget under his attention, barely hiding a smile. When you had stumbled upon data analytics and predictive modeling in your first semester of uni all those years ago, you had never imagined it would lead to you writing a program that helped an F1 team predict how and when the tires were going to go off during a race. It was just one of many projects you had worked on in your two years at McLaren but it was absolutely the one you were most proud of.

"Well, hopefully with the improved modeling system I've been working on, we can get you and Oscar onto that top step more this year. I have a meeting with Zak and Andrea next week actually to discuss putting more resources into it so we can further develop it."

"I don't know how you can improve on it, the data I've seen it produce is already wildly helpful." Lando has to resist the urge to cover your hand with his, the need to touch you suddenly overwhelming.

He had been so nervous tonight while driving over to your house to pick you up for dinner, it was a wonder he hadn't ended up in a ditch or something. Stella had already been whisked away by Sarah by the time he got to your house, but there was a (albeit a bit stale) gingerbread man with a curly mullet left on the counter for him. 'Stella gave me strict instructions to make sure you get your cookie.' You had informed him, face serious with the task at hand.

Now that you were sat across from him, plate of food sat half eaten in front of you, Lando found himself not as nervous as he thought he'd be. The butterflies were still there and he had to constantly keep the desire to lace his fingers with yours in check, but the way you had made him feel calm and comfortable during the time he visited you in your office before had simply transferred to dinner tonight. He'd never felt more at ease with someone who made him so nervous before and while it was an uneasy feeling, it also felt like the most natural thing in the world.

"I didn't realize anyone beyond the strategy team used the models." You admit.

Lando likes the way your cheeks flush under his praise, even if you're still refusing to meet his eyes while he compliments you.

"Will and I go over all that data after session. With how unpredictable the tires can be from day to day, I really depend on that information."

"Well, I'm glad my little data project is doing its job." You say simply, before taking another bite out of the food before you.

The rest of dinner passes in casual conversation and meaningful looks exchanged over drinks and dessert. If having dinner with Lando and Stella in London had been fun, this dinner was certainly a more intimate affair. It wasn't until your third glass of wine that you settled into the feeling that there could be something between you and Lando, allowing the fear to take a back seat even for just one night.

"Can I ask you something?" You ask boldly while dessert is being placed in front of you.

"Anything."

And he means it.

"I know the first time you found your way into my office was by mistake but I've always wondered why you kept coming back. I mean, my office is literally on the opposite side of any place you'd ever be normally."

"Besides the fact that you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen in my life?" He flirts shamelessly, the alcohol in his system making him braver than he really felt.

"Lan..." You scold, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

Lando chuckles and finally loses the battle he's been fighting all dinner. He reaches across the table and slips his fingers into the spaces between yours, rubbing his thumb over the soft skin of your hand. The spark that ignites when he touches you has the breath catching in the back of your throat. "Because you talked to me like a normal person. It was right around the time the championship race was heating up, as manufactured by the press as it was. The team was a bit in shambles and I just felt really unsupported."

He doesn't have to say it, but you instinctively know he's talking about the Hungary race earlier in the year. The Wednesday after that race, Lando had popped up in your office first thing in the morning and had sat across from you until well after lunch. The way his shoulders hunched and he kind of just folded himself into the desk chair that you now kept specifically for him had broken your heart.

"You never asked me about racing or the championship or anything like that. You let me talk and ask questions about your job and I was just able to forget the outside world for a bit. I was never Lando Norris, McLaren Formula 1 driver competing with Max Verstappen with you. I was just 'Lan'. I really appreciated that, especially during the second half of the season."

You had become his safe space was what he wanted to say but fear kept that bit of information from passing his lips. For now.

The warmth of Lando's fingers tangled with yours travels through your entire body. "I'm glad I helped." You murmur, heat pooling low in your belly at the look he's giving you from across the table.

"More than you know."

"Okay. No, I understand. Yes, she was fine when I dropped her off this morning. Okay. Yes, thank you. Tell her I'm leaving work right now, I'll be there in about twenty minutes. Thank you, Ms. Rose."

Panic floods your chest as you stare at the computer screen in front of you. "Fuck." You whisper, frantically looking up the phone number for Zak's personal assistant. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

"That is a lot of swearing for 10 in the morning on a Wednesday."

Your eyes fly from your computer screen to the door of your office where Lando stands, leaning against the doorframe looking unreasonably handsome in a green jumper and jeans. You couldn't admire him for long though, panic returning to the front of your mind as you desperately try to figure out what you're going to do.

"Stella's school just called." Lando immediately crosses the room and sits down in 'his' chair, as he's begun to think it. Ever since your date last Saturday night, he hasn't been able to get you off his mind. He's been at the MTC every morning this week, something that even Zak noticed this morning and made a comment about him being extra dedicated to getting the new season started off on the right foot. If only he knew the real motivation for being around all the time now. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd spent any time back at his other apartment in Monaco.

"Everything okay?"

"No, she's running a fever. They need me to come get her except remember that meeting with Zak and Andrea I told you about? It's in..." Your eyes flicker back to your computer screen before bouncing back up to meet Lando's concerned gaze. "Fifteen minutes. I'm going to have to cancel and God knows when I'm ever going to get this kind of face time with either of them before the start of the season. Without their support, the upgrades to that tire deg model I want to make will basically be dead in the water."

Normally, you handle the pressures of being a single mom pretty well. You realize your career trajectory is a little different than normal, with you being unable to work late or travel extensively or do any of the other things that usually help with job advancement and you made your peace with that a long time ago. You make enough to provide very comfortably for Stella, so when you're passed over for promotions or unable to dedicate extra time, you're usually fine with it. Not today though.

"I've been prepping for this meeting for weeks. Weeks, Lando. Sarah is on annual leave in Spain and my dad is in London today with a client, there is literally no one else to go get her. Today of all fucking days." Tears threaten to spill over, you're so frustrated. You've worked so hard to get this meeting and now it's all going to go to waste.

"I'll go get her." The way Lando says it has shock slicing through your heart, quick as a knife. He says it so casually, like you're silly for not even considering him.

"What? No, Lando, I can't ask that of you."

"You're not asking, I'm offering." Lando stands, pulling out his phone. "Text me the address of her school and I'll go get her. I drove my Rover this morning and guess what I still have in the back seat?" A brilliant smile flashes across his face.

Something stills in your chest at the fact that Lando left your daughter's booster seat in his car after all these weeks.

"Lan..."

"I don't want to hear any more arguments, mama."

Well that was certainly something you'd have to unpack your reaction to later.

"Are you sure?" You bite at your lower lip and Lando has to physically restrain himself from kissing you right there in your office. Something which he still hasn't done, as much as it was killing him. After dinner the other night he had wanted to kiss you more than anything but he hadn't wanted to rush you, Sarah's words echoing in his head. How he needed to be patient with you and how you'd bene through so much the past few years so he had chickened out, erring on the side of caution and had settled for a hug and quick press of his lips to your cheek instead. He had regretted it every moment since dropping you off at your door that night.

"Absolutely. Now, go call Ms. Rose back and tell her Lando Norris is coming to get Ms. Stelly Belly. Do you have a spare key for me? I'll take her back to your place and we'll watch movies 'til you can get home."

An unfamiliar sense of calm settles over you at the sound of confidence in Lando's voice. You don't let just anyone take care of Stella, especially when she's sick. Really, the only other two people that you'd ever trust with her are Sarah and your dad. That list now was a list of three, you supposed.

"Okay." You reply weakly. "Thank you, Lando. Seriously. I don't know how I'm ever going to repay you."

"Go get ready for your meeting, pretty girl." Without a second look, Lando turns and walks out of your office. Moments after he gets into the lift to head to his car, his phone chimes with a text from you giving him the address to Stella's school.

A few hours later, you slot the key to your front door in the lock, swinging the door open as quietly as you can manage. From the entryway, you can hear the TV playing in the living room on the other side of the house.

Just in case Stella is asleep, you don't announce your presence opting to tip toe towards where you think Lando and Stella will be instead. The sight that greets you when you finally spy them has your heart clenching painfully, stealing the breath straight out of your lungs. The couch is perpendicular to where you stand, so you can just see Lando's profile as he sits, cheek tilted down resting gently on Stella's head as he watched Frozen playing on the TV in front of him. Stella is cuddled up in his lap, her arms thrown around his shoulders and her little head is buried deep in the crook of his neck. Lando's arms are wrapped securely around your little girl as he cradles her to his chest.

You rub at your sternum, desperatly trying to massage the ache that has settled there at the way Stella is curled up into Lando for comfort. You've never seen her do this with anyone other than you. Not even Sarah.

Lando senses when you walk into the room, having not even heard the door open moments before. Stella sleeps soundly against him, her warm breath tickling at the space between his neck and shoulders. They hadn't been home longer than twenty minutes when Stella had started to cry because she felt so poorly. When Lando had offered her a cuddle to make her feel better until you could get home, Stella had crawled right up into his lap and fell asleep before Anna even had a chance to build that snowman.

He was surprised at how comfortable this felt, with Stella seeking comfort from him. How easily it had come for him to just wrap his arms around her frame so she'd stop crying. He was pretty sure he'd do anything to get your little girl to stop feeling sad.

Lando turns to you after a few moments and smiles. Something passes between you then, with Stella asleep in front of you. It's powerful and reassuring and everything that you've been waiting for since the day you had realized you'd be raising Stella on your own.

"I think I finally got her fever down." Lando whispers, not wanting to wake Stella up.

"Oh my gosh, I didn't even tell you where the paracetamol is in the house." Your hand flies back to your throat in horror.

"It's okay. Stella told me where it was. My mom helped me figure out the dosage for her."

"Your mom?" You squeak, swaying on your feet.

Lando chuckles. That had been an interesting call. He hadn't had the time to explain to her exactly why he was asking for help to figure out how much paracetamol to give Stella but he was panicked, the school being unable to give her a dose of anything and her fever was going up. She had been confused, but helped without further question.

"It's fine. We got it figured out and then I turned Frozen on and she fell asleep pretty quick after that. I haven't found the thermometer yet but she feels a lot cooler than she did earlier."

For a moment, all you can do is stare at Lando. It unnerved you how comfortable he was with her. Not in a bad way but in a completely unexpected way that had goosebumps littering your skin.

"How'd the meeting go?" Lando breaks the silence after a few moments.

Your eyes snap from Stella's sleeping frame to meet Lando's gaze. He made no attempt to move Stella off his lap or hand her over, just kept his arms securely around her while he waited patiently for your answer. He could tell you were trying to wrap your head around what you were looking at and he was hoping it was a good thing. He knew you weren't used to people stepping up for you, the close inner circle you kept was very small, but he hoped that after today you'd maybe let him in a little more.

"Oh..." You pause, struggling to focus on anything other than the sight in front of you. "Good actually! Zak was super impressed with what I've got done so far. He wants me to go to Bahrain later in the month for testing with the team to test the program first hand. And he wants me to go to a few races too"

"Baby," Lando coos, reaching out a hand to capture your fingers with his. Your heart squeezes at the pet name as you barely hold in the squeal at the nickname. "I'm so proud of you, that's amazing."

Tears threaten at the edge of your vision. It had been a long time since someone other than your own father had told you that they were proud of you. "I called my dad and him and my step mom are going to watch Stella whenever I need to travel and whatever they can't cover, I'm going to hire a nanny."

It had been Zak's idea to hire the nanny, a suggestion that nearly bowled you over when he made it. He knew your situation and had wanted to make sure that you were able to travel while being comfortable with leaving Stella with someone.

"Zak offered me a raise to help offset the cost of hiring someone." You say quietly, reflecting on how insistent the man had been when you waffled at the thought of traveling more this season.

The thought of getting to travel with you this season, even if it was solely for work, was so appealing to Lando it was a little silly. He had been thinking the other night how much it was going to suck having to travel so much this year just as things were getting started with you. He usually loved losing himself in the season, not having anything hold him back or weigh him down from enjoying the constant moving and sleeping in different hotel rooms every weekend. But as the season had approached and the prospect of spending less time with you had started to become a reality, the thought of the start of the season had filled Lando with a bit of dread and anxiety.

You just sat there for a moment, smiling over at Lando and Stella as he grinned back at you. It was a comfortable silence as that same feeling from earlier crackled through the air. Like something was being set into motion today that neither of you quite understood but both knew was the start of something important.

"It's almost dinner time. Why don't you go put her down in her bed, she sleeps like this whenever she's sick, and I'll make us dinner?" You suggest finally, realizing your stomach is begging to be fed.

Lando follows your suggestion and within a few minutes, is joining you in the kitchen as you bustle about trying to figure out what to make. "I was going to make some chicken noodle soup, I think I have everything for it and Stella loves it when she's sick."

"Considering I was going to be ordering take away tonight, anything you want to feed me is good." Lando murmurs, coming to stand behind you at the counter as you peel some carrots and chop the onions.

His arms slip around your waist and you can't help but lean back into his warmth for a moment, enjoying the way the heat of his body seeps into your muscles. Lando nuzzles into the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of you as deeply as he can, trying to commit your scent to memory. He wants to remember every little detail about this evening, something calm and steady settling into his bones as he gets a glimpse of what could be.

"You're distracting me." You mumble, the heat of Lando's breath tickling the sensitive skin at your neck.

"I"m sorry, but you're a constant distraction to me so consider it payback."

You chuckle, putting down the knife so you can spin around to face Lando instead. Your arms snake up his body before you clasp them behind his neck, enjoying the way he melts even further into your body now that you're closer.

"Thank you for coming to my rescue today." You whisper, voice raspy with emotion as you think about how much Lando's done for you in the short time you've been spending time with him.

Lando bumps his nose with yours and grins, the way you feel in his arms is something he's never experienced before. "I'd do anything for you and Stella, you know that."

"After today, I certainly do."

The look Lando gives you turns your core molten and you struggle to catch your breath. Gazing up at him through your lashes, you drop your gaze down to his lips before they flit right back up to those green blue watercolor eyes that always seem to find you wherever you are lately. Before you can steady yourself, he's leaning forward eyes locked on yours. The smile that sits at the corner of his mouth is so utterly enticing, you nearly forget your own name.

When Lando covers your lips with his for the first time, you swear you see stars. Gold bursts of light spark behind your closed lids, your entire world stuttering down to the way Lando kisses you. It's full of promise and longing and the smokey taste of desire. Your hands tangle through his curls on their own accord as you desperately try to get impossibly closer to him, losing all sense of decorum and control with just a simple kiss.

When he pulls away, Lando is satisfied at the heavy lidded look you stare up at him with, heart hammering in his chest like he's just finished the Singapore Grand Prix.

"I've been thinking about that since I left you at the door on Saturday without kissing you." He confesses, forehead tipping forward to rest on yours.

Emotion clogs your throat as you struggle for a response. Warmth pools deep in your belly as you settle on just a simple nod in response, knowing that Lando will instinctivly be able to tell that you feel the same. Silence fills the kitchen, comfortable and easy as Lando kisses you again. Both of you could feel it with that second kiss, this thing happening between you on this random Wednesday afternoon and both of you were secretly scared to death at what this was going to mean for every facet of your lives.

Tag list: @shelbyteller , @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland @chlmtfilms @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @sltwins @linnygirl09 @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @strawberryy-kiwii @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream @eloriis @daemyratwst @dramaticpiratellamas @mochimommy2002 @bibissparkles @llando4norris @chelseyyouraverageluigi @iamaunknownsecret @maxivstappen @imlonelydontsendhelp @nina-or-anna-or-nora @a1leexxa @littlegrapejuice @sunflowervol18 @freyathehuntress @finn-dot-com @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @chirasama @lauralarsen @dr3wstarkey @saskiaalonso @rbv3rstappen @ilovechickenwings @guaaafiiburg @mcmuppet @glitteryturtledeer @mindless-rock @piastri-fvx

[seumyo]

the price to pay when you’re a passenger princess.

You knew that there had to be a catch when Bakugou said he’d pick you up after your 12-hour shift at the hospital. But the thing was, you were too exhausted to dwell on the thought.

Or so you thought.

“You look dead on your feet,” he commented as he opened the door for you.

“Thanks for the compliment,” you replied dryly, tossing your bag into the backseat. “And they say chivalry is dead.”

The sleek, jet-black Porsche 911 Turbo S roared through the empty streets like a predator on the hunt, the low rumble of the engine vibrating through your very soul. Bakugou, of course, looked completely at ease, one hand resting casually on the steering wheel, the other on the gear shift, a calm expression seen on his face.

You’ve come to understand that your husband was relatively calm when not provoked.

“Katsuki,” you started as the car picked up speed, “you do realize this is still a hospital zone, right? Maybe don’t speed like you’re in a Fast and Furious movie.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You literally just did.”

“Relax,” he drawled, shifting gears with precision. “You know I’ve got this.”

You, on the other hand, were internally reciting every safety procedure you could think of in case of an unfortunate circumstance to come.

“Should I call my assistant to make an appointment in advance?”

Bakugou snorts. “What? Don’t trust me?”

“Oh, I trust you. It’s the laws of physics I don’t trust,” you muttered under your breath, earning a low chuckle from him.

The worst part? There was barely any traffic this late at night, which only encouraged Bakugou to push the limits of what his new Porsche could do. You glanced at the speedometer and instantly regretted it.

“Katsuki, I swear to God—”

“What? It’s not like I’m breaking the speed limit,” he said with mock innocence, though the mischievous glint in his eyes told you he knew exactly what he was doing.

The Prefectural Government’s Public Safety Commissions should really revoke his license one of these days. Or you might not live to see the next one.

“By less than two!”

You leaned your head back against the seat, staring at the darkened city skyline as it blurred past you. You were exhausted from your shift, your feet aching, bone tired, but all of that was being drowned out by the overwhelming sensation of your life flashing before your very eyes.

You double-checked your seatbelt again. It’s never too late to actually be safe.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he said without taking his eyes off the road.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re about to yell at me for being too hot and good at everything.”

“Wow? The audacity of my husband making such a bold claim,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. “Have I fed your ego too much that you’re about to float away like a hot-air balloon?”

“Didn’t deny my claim.” He got you there.

You couldn’t argue with that.

“Just so you know,” you muttered, clutching the grab handle even tighter as he effortlessly weaved between two cars, “if I die tonight, I’m haunting you. And I’ll make sure to mess with you when you’re trying to sleep.”

“Good,” he said with a grin, finally glancing your way. “At least then you’d be with me all the time, huh?”

You stared at him, momentarily speechless. “Are you seriously flirting with me right now? While you’re driving like a maniac?”

“Who says I can’t multitask?”

Before you could fire back with another retort, the car slowed as you neared your apartment complex. Your death grip on the handle loosened ever so slightly, though your heart was still racing.

When Bakugou finally parked, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. You unbuckled your seatbelt, your hands still trembling a little.

“I hate you.”

“Love you too or whatever.”

“I—wait, you actually said it.”

“What? Can’t a man just say he loves his wife?”

“Good point, but you rarely say it!”

“I pick you up after your every shift and make sure you don’t die of starvation or poor health. That’s enough than saying it, no?”

“But you said it! So it’s different.”

“Not.”

“It is!”

“Not.”

“Is!”

Terrifying car rides aside, there was no one else you’d rather be stuck with. Even if your husband drove you absolutely crazy—both on and off the road. This must be the price of being Bakugou Katsuki’s passenger princess.

SEUMYO © 2025, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[no-144444]

nothing bad!- o.piastri

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

summary: the sprint pisses you off, ted's notebook catches you at a bad time, you say some things, oscar posts some things, and it ends up being one of the most popular ad campaigns in history. oops.

pairing: oscar piastri (no.81) x fem! driver! reader

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

You rolled your eyes as you watched the sprint end. Bullshit. Team orders had always left a bad taste in your mouth, but this was just bullshit. You sighed, looking at Mark, and he just rolled his eyes. Oscar was on par with Lando in his second season. Yes, there were some small mistakes or issues, but he was a fucking jet engine, and he deserved a team that treated him like one. He was going to be World Champion next year, you knew it, Mark knew it, everyone knew it. 

“Fucking arseholes,” Mark cursed. “What time is your quali at?” 

“12,” you answered. “I’m going to just go talk to him, see you in a bit.” 

You stood in Parc Fermé and he came up, pressing a kiss to your lips and sighing as his team congratulated him. 

“That was such bullshit,” you sighed, following him to his driver’s room after the media duties. “Wanna fuck to get all that frustration out?” 

He nodded, not even looking at the question like it was a joke. You both knew it wasn’t. “How long until your quali?” 

“An hour,” you shrugged, pulling him into his room with a smirk. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

When you two finally resurfaced, you made your way over to your car, ready to slot it onto the grid, as you did, you were stopped by Ted Kravitz, the man, the myth, the legend himself. 

“Y/n! How are you feeling about today’s quali and sprint race?” he asked. 

“Good, yeah. Just need to get out and up there,” you nodded. You were the number one driver in F1 Academy, and F2. This weekend was an F1 Academy weekend. You’d won every race since you’d joined the series, a sweep of total domination for 2 years. 13 wins under your belt in F1 Academy, 12 feature race wins in F2, and 12 Sprint wins in F2. And you were only 22. 

“And how did you feel about Oscar’s Sprint race? You didn’t look so happy in Parc Fermé.”

You rolled your eyes. “If Lando really needs Oscar to take a side step like that over one point, maybe he’s not ready to be champion,” you shrugged. “And that’s coming from a friend.” 

You could feel the air shift as Ted smirked, knowing what a headline that would be. 

“Thanks for your time Y/n, we’ll see you on the other side of Quali,” he smiled, allowing you to walk on. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

Pole position, again. 

It was almost funny how easy it was. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

You made your way back into your garage and found Oscar looking proud, but slightly guilty…

“What did you do?” you asked, putting your helmet and gloves down. 

“Nothing bad,” he prefaced. “But I may or may not have posted something.”

You looked at him quizzically. “Show me.” 

He turned his phone around and you laughed. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

oscarpiastri

liked by pierregasly, landonorris, y/nracing, and 839,231 others

oscarpiastri: get yourself a girlfriend who a) is intelligent, gorgeous, and awesome. and b) publicly humiliates your teammate over one point :)

comments

landonorris: low blow... i thanked you -> y/nracing: u forgot to thank beyonce.

user82: WHAT IS GOING ON IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS

mclaren: please take this down xxx -> y/nracing: if he takes this down i'll bomb mtc. -> mclaren: OH GREAT HEAVENS.

zbrownceo: we know this diva 💜

lilymhe: hold up im trying to spell gorjus -> y/nracing: OMG I FUCKING LOVE YOU DITCH ALEX FOR ME PLZ

carlossainz: at least you've got a leg up on lando... -> user22: ??? -> carlossainz: he hjas a girlfriend that loves him, lando's dumps him every four days -> landonorris: WHY AM I CATCHING STRAYS RN????

oscarpiastri: who is this gorgeous lady? -> y/nracing: she's taken bucko -> oscarpiastri: not by lando norris 😹😹😹 (even though he asked you out first...) -> y/nracing: who the fuck would pick lando over oscar?

pierregasly: WHO IS THIS DIVA 💜

charlesleclerc: glad to see my daughter in law is still insane

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

“Well, I’d better post something myself, shouldn't I?” you smirked. He nodded, a bright blush on his cheeks, knowing exactly what you were going to post. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

y/nracing

liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri, landonorris and 12,293,942 others

y/nracing: booo ln4. i'm into op81. oh yeah, also our skims collection is out on the 24th xxx

comments

user82: OH MY FUCKING GOD

user29: i have no one to talk to about this.

oscarpiastri: pretty girl -> y/nracing: pretty boy

landonorris: ??? ->oscarpiastri: I will actually gouge your eyes out, unlike this post right now. -> user92: WHAT HAPPENED TO POLITE CAT? -> oscarpiastri: his teammate became a bitch

user92: HOLY SHIT Y/N IS LOOKING GORG

lilymhe: my girl is beautiful

alexandrastmleux: my girl xxx

charlesleclerc: supporting! (with my eyes closed)

pierregasly: 👀 ->oscarpiastri: close them.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[plutoslastwords]

I love ur baby Norris fic smmmm

Can you do one where she is feeling super clingy and just dosent want to leave him alone whether she is just always wanting to be held or just living in his shadow and constantly following him.

koala time

lando norris x daughter!reader

summary: baby norris doesn't get clingy often, but when she does, she really does

warnings: none!

w/c: 1.6k

a/n: sorry this is rushed and all over the place hahah, but hope you enjoy xx

~~~

For a three year old, you are relatively independent. If he had to guess, Lando would regretfully say that it is because he has to be away so often, so you have had to learn to cope with life without your daddy. Obviously you have babysitters and such when he can’t be there to look after you himself, but he knows that no one can properly fill the void of a missing parent.

It's not like you're already ready to live by yourself yet, but it’s the little things like knowing where the cup cupboard is, or where all of your clothes are so you can get yourself dressed in the morning - though you sometimes struggle with the fiddly buttons. In a way, it makes Lando sad, he should be the one doing these things for you, you’re just a baby, you shouldn’t have to do this all yourself.

Unfortunately, there’s not much he can do about it except shower you with attention whenever he gets the chance, making sure that you know just how much he loves you.

However, no matter how independent you can be, there are times where you just need your daddy.

Lando has dubbed it ‘koala time’, when you practically attach yourself to him, not letting him go anywhere or do anything without you, clinging to him like he’s about to disappear. It normally occurs when he’s just got back from a long trip away, and for the next few days you follow him around like a shadow, placing yourself in his lap every moment that you can, whether it is convenient or not.

At present, you’re on Lando’s private jet, along with a few other drivers whose names you haven’t been bothered to remember. The next race is in Japan, and luckily you have some time off from school for spring break, so naturally Lando is taking you along. You’ve never been to Japan, but Daddy has told you that it is very cool, and he’ll take you to lots of shops in Tokyo to buy you new toys, so you’re excited.

The flight from Monaco is long, you spend most of it asleep on a little makeshift bed that you have, and the rest of it immersed in some movie that Lando has got playing on your iPad. You’re not in any sort of clingy mood at the moment, so you’re perfectly happy to sit by yourself and watch your cartoons.

Finally, you arrive in Japan, Lando scooping you up from the plane and carrying you through the airport to the awaiting van that will take you both to the hotel.

“You excited, angel?” He coos at you as he places you on his lap in the car, your bags disregarded to the side.

You nod eagerly, everyone so far has been very nice to you and you are awaiting the moment you can get your hands on some new toys.

The drive to the hotel is fairly long, as Tokyo is so big. You’re only staying in Tokyo for a couple nights, to enjoy the city before travelling further south down to the Suzuka circuit. On the drive you quite contently sit on Lando’s lap, making small comments about what you can see outside the window, mainly just taking in your surroundings. 

When you finally arrive at the hotel, it is very grand, very befitting for a millionaire Formula 1 driver. You’re escorted to your suite, which has a grand king-sized bed for Lando, and a smaller twin bed for you, where a bunny plushie is sitting there waiting. (Lando had told them in advance about your love for the animal)

The excitement of the new room is almost enough to defeat the exhaustion that you are feeling, but eventually the long flight starts to catch up with you, and Lando knows you well enough to notice the first stages of collapse.

“Okay, baby, I think it’s bedtime now, yeah?” He picks you up from where you’re sitting on the bed, holding you on his hip whilst he looks through the suitcases to find you some pyjamas.

In response you try to protest, but the only sound that comes out is a yawn, and even at 3, you know that it is a losing battle. Instead, you opt to lean in closer to his hold, burying your face in the crook of his neck and falling asleep there. He smiles when he notices, softly changing your sleeping body into some pyjamas, and tucking you into your bed with your favourite teddies.

“Goodnight angel” He presses a kiss to your forehead.

The next morning you wake up as usual, you crawl into your daddy’s bed, snuggling up next to him to which he responds by wrapping you in his arms and falling back asleep. You’re having none of that, continually hitting him until he wakes up and gets you both ready to go down to breakfast.

It’s there that the jetlag hits. You’ve never been anywhere with this much of a time difference before. Well, you have, but you were a newborn, and newborns have no concept of time, newborns never sleep. Therefore, the jetlag hits you hard and fast, causing you to almost fall asleep in your half eaten waffle. 

Lando chuckles when he notices this, being an F1 driver, he’s basically become immune to jetlag, so it’s amusing to see his usually oh so energetic daughter completely collapse.

“You tired, baby?” He coos

“‘S early, daddy…” You mumble, eyelids threatening to close.

“It’s 10am, angel girl.” He chuckles at your drowsy state.

Throughout the day your jetlag doesn’t improve, you’re still very very tired. However, unlike most toddlers who have tiredness and grumpiness going hand in hand, your tiredness comes with a big dose of clinginess.

After breakfast you refuse to walk anywhere without Lando carrying you, burying your head into the crook of his neck, and your little hands gripping the collar of his shirt tightly. 

When you get to the place where Lando is meant to be meeting up with a few of his team members to discuss what’s going to be happening in the upcoming weekend you still refuse to let go, even after Lando sits down at the office table.

“Baby, do you wanna go sit over there for a bit whilst Daddy chats?” He asks softly, knowing you’re probably in a bit of a fragile mood.

You shake your head stubbornly at this, you want to stay with your daddy. You just grip onto him tighter. 

At some point in the meeting, you fall fast asleep, and a kind secretary takes you from Lando’s arms - with his permission - to go and lay you down on a nice comfy sofa for you to continue your nap.

When you wake up, you are appalled. Where is your daddy? You immediately sit up, ignoring the rush of exhaustion that is still somehow hanging on, no matter how much you’ve been sleeping. You toddle into the room where Lando is, seeing that he is just leaving, from another door, presumably to go and grab some lunch from the office canteen. Naturally, you follow close behind.

You trail behind him the rest of the way like a shadow. He doesn’t notice you as your legs aren't long enough to fully catch up. When he finally slows down a bit, you see your opportunity, running up to him and clinging onto his leg.

He jumps slightly. “Oh, baby, you gave me a fright, I thought you were having a nap, hm?” He scoops you up into his arms, holding you close.

“Want daddy.” You mumble, pulling at his curly hair. 

“We don’t pull hair, my love..” You pout at that, but stop, resting your head on his shoulder as he walks further into the lunch room. 

Throughout your stay in Tokyo the clinginess doesn’t get much better. Most notably is when he’s on a conference call with a brand back in England in the hotel room. He had put you to bed a couple hours before so wasn’t too worried about you interrupting. 

Obviously he had underestimated the power of a jet lagged toddler. 

You wake up unhappy, you’re still tired, you’ve been tired for days now, and you want your daddy. With a frown on your face you waddle into the room where he’s taking the call, standing next to his chair and holding your arms out, gesturing that you need to be held.

He looks at you with surprise, muting his mic, “Darling, you’re meant to be in bed…”

You don’t say anything in response, simply holding your arms out higher, pleading with your eyes for him to hold you. He knows he cannot resist once he sees that pleading look in your eyes, sighing he lifts you up, holding you on his lap for the rest of the call, not caring how unprofessional it might seem, any brand he works with should know that you’re his first priority, always.

After the call he puts you to bed, but you immediately crawl into his bed with him, grabbing at his arm and nestling your face into it like it’s a pillow. He sighs, knowing that there’s no way he’s winning this one.

He places a little kiss to the top of your head, “My little koala, daddy loves you.”

~~~

a/n: pls continue sending in requests about baby norris, i love writing her!!

[readwritealldayallnight]

Home

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

wc: 1.6k words

warnings/tags: fluff, kinda barely angst

Soap has to bite his lip to keep himself contained, absolutely itching to make another comment, take another jab at the Lieutenant sitting next to him who couldn’t seem to sit still. Ultimately he decides he’s rather fond of keeping his nose intact, and refrains from teasing Ghost further, for the sake of not being punched with a little over an hour to go until they reach base, if nothing else.

As excitable as the Scot usually is in any circumstance, he does have a point though, even Price has never seen Ghost so antsy to return from a mission before. The skull faced man keeps checking his watch every other minute as though it would motivate the seconds to tick by faster, he can’t seem to stop bouncing his leg in impatience, casting quick glances out the window every so often. He wants, no, needs this jet to land back at base already.

“Somewhere you need to be LT?” Soap feigns ignorance, a smirk across his face, apparently having refrained himself long enough since the last joke all of ten minute ago.

“Don’t ask me to take you to the medics when we land, mate.” Gaz comments casually, not bothering to look up from where he’s fiddling with a deck of cards in his hands, equally trying to pass the time. “You’re askin’ him for it.”

“Ach, I’m just curious to know wha’s got the big man in such a haste to leave his dear ol’ mates behind, ya ken? Almos’ as if he has somethin’ waitin’ for him back at home.” The blue eyed sergeant replies, casting a mischievous sideways glance towards the man in question.

“Reckon it’s more about who’s waitin’ for him.” The Captain pitches in himself, sending his own knowing glance at the Lieutenant.

Ghost can’t be bothered to acknowledge any of the conversation happening around or about him, checking his watch again. Not when he’s on his way home after being deployed for three months. Not when this is the longest he’s had to be away from you yet. Not when it feels as if a piece of his beating heart was ripped out from between his ribs and had made a home for itself in the fissure tearing through yours, leaving him feeling as though he was wholly and irrevocably missing a piece of himself.

Simon thinks he could spend the rest of his life learning every language that’s ever been spoken my mankind, and never have the proper words to explain how much your absence has shaken him to his core, how much he’s missed you. Utterly and simply, missed you.

The first month apart, he found himself missing the more obvious things. He missed your smile, your laugh, making you laugh. He missed your voice, hearing you hum in the shower, sing in the car, recount your day, talk in your sleep (you refuse to believe him when he tells you this, but he swears it’s true). He missed holding you, you holding him. Missed your touch, your kisses, your body. Missed the way you feel, the way you make him feel. Missed falling asleep to you and waking up to you.

The second month, he found that he was really starting to miss the little things. He missed the smell of your hair fresh out of the shower. He missed the way you always ask him to crack the eggs when baking because you insist he’s just better at it than you are, gets less shell in it. He missed you teasing him about his driving, holding your hand over the console, opening the door for you to watch you smile and roll your eyes every time.

As the mission dragged into its last month, Simon found he just missed you. Simply you. He missed watching you get ready for the day, getting dressed, going about your routine. He missed existing in the same space as you, hearing you move throughout the flat, always there even if he can’t always see you. He missed seeing traces of you, finding strands of your hair everywhere, tripping over shoes left in the doorway, seeing both your mugs together on the drying rack. Evidence of a life lived, together.

The nature of the 141’s work meant that things had to be kept extremely tight-lipped and on the strictest need to know basis, especially in ensuring the men’s safety. This meant never being able to know where Simon was going or was at any given moment. It meant not being able to speak on the phone, because even with the very best protection and programming, phone calls can be tapped, and traced. And while that one isn’t a precaution that everyone strictly follows, taking the occasional quick phone call to a loved one on a secured line, but Simon has been through too much, seen too much to every put you at risk, no matter how minuscule the risk may be. He simply won’t take it. Not with you.

And so you take up the next best thing, a tried and true method through time. You write him letters. You tell him that you don’t expect him to write back, you understand that he won’t want to write down an address someone could track you to, you haven’t put down a return address either, adding that you’re not even sure when and if he’ll be able to read or receive them.

You love this man with every fibre of your being, but you really do know next to nothing about this part of his life that takes up so much of his time. It feels like they’re stealing your time when they call him away, stealing time spent with him. The no contact was especially difficult for you in the beginning of your relationship. It had been the cause of your first fight with him.

You’d told him the time apart (a month, the longest you’d gone through back then) was too much, you missed him too much. Seeing you hurt, and hurting himself, equally as tense about the periods of long distance, Simon had angrily lashed out. He wasn’t used to this, someone caring about him this much, caring about you more just as much. Not only was the intensity of these feelings foreign, but you were wanting to talk about them now.

He’d asked you if you wanted him to leave you then, not wanting to go on hurting you if it really was too much, to which you replied that no, the solution to you being too sad when he’s gone isn’t to leave you permanently. Neither of you knew how to actually navigate this, and Simon was still harbouring deep, slowly healing wounds that made navigating this uncharted territory an endeavour that left him feeling vulnerable, exposed. The last thing he ever wanted to do was to leave you, but the thought of hurting you was equally as bothersome.

You two idiots in love had your first proper fight, had your first proper makeup, and eventually came up with a sort of placeholder solution. It wasn’t perfect, nothing about Simon being gone was ideal really, but for the two of you, it worked. While he’s away from home you write him a letter, not every day though, per his request (‘So that I don’t start to feel more like homework, yeah?’), only when something worth writing comes to mind. It winds up being about a letter every other day, anyway.

You mail them to their permanent base, and he either gets to read them when they’re delivered, or he’s rewarded with the sight of the envelope atop his desk upon returning from wherever else they may have been temporarily based for the time. He reads them, every single one. Over, and over, and over. He has them essentially memorized, as numerous as they are. Every squiggle of your pen, each little doodle you add in on occasion, depending on the story you might be telling. You usually try to keep them lighthearted, happy, something that can brighten his mood and reassure him you’re doing okay. But sometimes you’re honest, you admit when days are hard and his absence is especially difficult.

In turn, Simon writes his own letters. His process is a little different than yours is. While you’re writing yours as the days of his absence pass, he often arrives back on base to discover multiple envelopes piled atop one another, a sight akin to Christmas morning in his eyes. Still, he always diligently reads through each letter of yours, and for every one you write him, he takes his own pen to paper to write his response to each and every line you draft for him. He adds in comments, witty remarks, the occasional joke or fun fact, sprinkles in stories if he has any that fit. He tells you how he misses you too, wishes he could put these letters in your hands himself.

He will soon enough though.

He has his letters, papers that might seem so insignificant to anyone else on this jet, tucked in between a pair of extra clothes in his pack, in hopes of keeping them as safe as he can. The majority of your letters are carefully stuffed in there as well. The most special ones however, the ones you’ve written for him with your penmanship etched upon page after page of writing, with your lipstick stained kisses across them, with your perfume sprayed on them, those he has neatly folded and tucked under his vest, just above his heart.

Soon as his feet are back on solid ground and he’s dismissed, he’ll be making his way back to you. Where he’ll take out each and every one of those letters he’s written in response to you, and he’ll read them to you as he holds you in his arms, feeling your hearts beating against each others again, where they belong, and that’s how he’ll know he’s home.

[ghosts-to-reid]

Blues, Baby.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Breeding kink, kidnapping, smut

Request: Breeding kink smut pleaseeee (Spencer wanting to get reader pregnant)

Summary: Spencer is angry at you after you made a silly mistake on the field. He comes to you to reconcile, but ends up doing that and more.

It had been a long week.

The case had been difficult, you had been taken by the unsub, and on top of that, you and Spencer had had an argument. You had been together for 4 years, you rarely argued in all that time, but when you did it was brutal. 

The argument happened after he had saved you. It was your fault, admittedly you were too eager to catch this guy, you could say that now. He had taken over 34 girls in the last 20 years, from all over the states. He had been a copycat of Israel Keyes, stashing kill kits in the same, or as close as he could to, locations as him. It was shocking that it hadn’t been caught years ago. It hit you hard, and you were determined to catch this guy. So, you had rushed in without backup, getting yourself caught in the process. Though your capture was short- Which gave way to Spencer’s fury at your actions

“What the HELL were you thinking?” You had just finished up being checked over by the medics, sitting on the back of the ambulance, when Spencer rushed over to you. He is the one who took down the unsub, taking him in before he spoke to you. His reaction caught you off guard, and then made you scowl.

“What are you talking about?” He was standing in front of you now, arms crossed. His eyes  were boring into yours. He huffed out a frustrated chuckle

“What am I talking about? I'm talking about you rushing in there, without backup, and nearly getting yourself killed in the process!” He waved his arms as he spoke, as he usually did when frustrated. Shaking your head, you stood and stepped closer to him, eyes never leaving him.

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Spencer. You know this. What is wrong with you?” You were confused why he was so angry with you, you were the one who had just been kidnapped, he should be holding you and soothing you, not shouting at you in front of your team and the locals. 

“Obviously not when you make stupid decisions like this! Did you even think about the consequences?”

“The consequence if I hadn’t gone in was another dead girl!”

“But you didn’t have to try and replace her! God, I knew I should've gone with you!”

“What, you think you need to babysit me, Spencer?” You scoff, folding your arms “You’re my boyfriend, not my dad.”

“You know what, maybe you do need a babysitter if you’re going to continue making rookie mistakes like this, you know you’re better than this” 

Your eyes had never left each other, staring each other down- Waiting for the other to back down. Bored of this, you rolled your eyes and dropped your arms from your chest. Removing the blanket from your shoulders, you move to walk away when he grabs your arm, tight enough to stop you, but not enough to hurt.

“Where the hell are you going?” His free hand picked up the blanket and he began to drape it over your shoulders once more “You need this for shock. Why won’t you take care of yourself?” It was obvious his anger was rooted in concern, but you didn’t want to confront that right now. Already fuming at his actions, you had no time for his niceties right now.

“Just- Leave me alone. I don’t need you shouting at me right now.” Shaking free from his grasp, you stomped away from him and towards one of the team's SUVs. He shouted something after you, and you heard a loud bang as he hit the ambulance in frustration, but you ignored it.

Since then, the two of you had barely spoken since. Spencer sat with Derek, and you sat with Emily both on opposite sides of the Jet. The team sensed some tension, having witnessed the argument, but no one pressed you. Then, there was a silent car ride back to your shared apartment. You moved into his place 9 months ago now, Spencer had suggested it after your lease had ended, explaining how it was logical to move in together now and save money- he said he wanted to marry you someday and that this was a good start. 

That seemed a silly thought at the minute, though.

The silence continued until dinner. He was in the shower whilst you prepped what you could from your fridge, it was too late to go to the grocery store and you had been away a few days, so it wasn’t much. You were so deep in your own thoughts you didn’t hear the shower stop, or Spencer enter the kitchen. He had stood, watching you silently for a moment as you chopped something, before he moved to slide his hands to hold your waist, snaking them to hold you as he rested his head on your shoulder. Momentarily, you tensed, but soon melted into him. He felt warm and safe, and you had needed this after your capture.

“I'm sorry…” He mumbled into your hair as he squeezed you. You dropped the knife you were holding and brought your hand up to his damp hair, scratching his scalp lightly.

“I'm sorry too, baby…” You mumbled, he moved and turned you to look at him. His eyes were sad, brow furrowed with concern.

"I just... I don't want to loose you, okay?"

"You won't, baby. I'm here." You snaked your arms around his neck and placed your forehead against his.

"Today just... It made me realise we shouldn't wait for things. I was so worried that... That we wouldn't be able to do all the things we planned... That we'd never get married, have kids... I just... I don't want to miss out on that with you. I love you too much." His eyes were closed as he made his confession. Sighing you softly nodded your head against his.

"Then... Why are we waiting?" You asked, voice small as his eyes flicker open, meeting yours once more. T5here is stillness in the air as he stares at you. "Let's have a baby..."

He wasted no time in dipping to kiss you. His lips melting softly into yours as an apology. Smiling into the kiss, you hummed contentedly as he pulled you closer, and you brought your hands up once more to play with his curls. 

The kiss began to become more desperate when you lightly tugged at his hair, causing him to groan into your lips. You smirked as his grip on your hips tightened and his tongue slipped past your lips. The kiss deepened into a battle for dominance between you, lips fighting one another to be the winner. Slowly, Spencer backed you against a clear counter, surprising you when your back hit the cold marble. Your yelp made Spencer smirk as he finally pulled away from you. He had caged you between him and the counter, arms tasting either side. He admired his work, your flushed skin, wide eyes, pupils blown out with lust. You were panting for air through your swollen lips and he could feel all his blood rushing to one single point. All his frustration from before turned to need. Need to show you how much he cares, how much he loves you, how you were his, and his alone. His lips soon darted to your neck, kissing and sucking his way down to your collarbone. You whined under his touch, feeling his growing cock rub against you. It made you squirm in anticipation, you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with every touch.

“Spence…” You gasp as his fingers begin to dip under your waist band. He leaned back, watching you as he began to guide his fingers through your folds, gathering your slick and occasionally skimming over your clit teasingly. You were an utter mess for him, and he loved it. He observed you for a moment, simply watching your reactions to his touch, your moans and curses under your breath, the way you held onto his arm, the pout you gave him when he dodged your kiss, smirking at you as he just watched and touched.

“I amso sorry about what happened before, baby… I just didn’t want to lose you” His voice was soft but had an edge of authority that made you clench around nothing. His eyes never left yours as he spoke, just like earlier “Because you’re mine, aren’t you? You belong to me, don’t you?” He continued his agonizingly slow strokes as he spoke, you whined and nodded in response. He simply tutted and shook his head

“Use your words, darling.”

“I-I’m yours, Spencer.” You managed to whisper, voice shaky from the frustrated pleasure you were receiving. Spencer smiled proudly, and sped up slightly, causing you to moan loudly.

“Hmm… I think we need to do something to show everyone else who you belong to…” His voice was teasing. The free hand that caged you lifted to your face, landing softly on your cheek. His other hand continued to work at a steady pace, enough to make you needy, but not enough to push you over the edge anytime soon. He loved to torture you like this, teasing you for hours and not letting you cum. He loved feeling the control over you. Your eyes opened and met his confusion hidden in them. He found it, and found it amusing. He leaned closer into you, his free hand moving to tuck your hair behind your ear before he firmly held the back of your hair. Whispering softly

“I'm gonna put a baby in you, hm? Show everyone who you really belong to, who gets to cum inside you?” 

As he finished speaking, he plunged two fingers inside of your pussy. A loud moan escaped your lips as he pulled your head back to look at him. He had sped up now, fingering you with a cocky smirk. He may be shy in the real world, but behind closed doors, he undoubtedly enjoyed his power over you. His words shocked you at first, but he didn’t miss the way you clenched around his fingers as he fucked you with them. He knew you’d do whatever he wanted to, but this was pushing the limits.

Usually, no matter the scenario, you and Spencer had sex with a condom. You had gone off of birth control, the effects had been killer for you. Spencer, being the loving boyfriend he is, had supported you through this, and your sex life had adjusted with no problem. He used condoms, and the rare occasion you would do it without one, he’d take you for the morning after pill, but now? Now, he wanted to prove a point. 

It wasn’t just about where he came, it was about showing everyone who you belonged to. Who cared for you, who protected you, who you came home to every night.

“What do you say baby? Do you want me to fuck you till everyone knows who you belong to?” Another devious whisper in your ear. You eagerly nodded, Spencer wasted no time in removing his hand from inside you and pulling your pants down your thighs. He roughly turned you around and bent you over the counter, holding both your wrists behind your back. He stepped back, admiring how you looked from behind. You could feel his free hand tracing your skin before feeling a sharp smack to your ass. The pain made you hiss out a moan, you missed Spencer pulling down his sweatpants.

It shocked you momentarily when you felt the tip of his cock move between your folds, teasing your clit as he covered his shaft in your slick. The anticipation of him entering you was killing you, and you bucked your hips against him.

“Eager, are we? You want me to cum inside you that bad?” The edge of teasing was still present in his voice as he held you down. All you could do was whine and squirm under him, waiting for him to enter you. He chuckled before he pushed himself inside of you, groaning as your tight walls stretched around him.

“Fuck…” He muttered as he watched you moan once more. He loved seeing you so submissive under him. He barely waited for you to adjust until he started fucking into you at a rough pace.

Each stroke was bliss, pain turned to pleasure quickly as he relentlessly bottomed out over and over again. He let your wrists go as he held your hips, holding them firmly in place. YOu gripped the edge of the counter tightly in an effort to keep upright.

Spencer watched how he disappeared inside you, moaning as he felt you begin to tighten around him

“Awe, you gonna cum for me, baby? Is that how excited you are for me to cum?” He panted into your ear, you nodded quickly, nearly drooling from the pleasure Spencer was giving you. You let out a loud whine when Spencers hand reached between you both and began to play with your clit.

“Im- Im gonna-” You tried to pant out words that dissipated into moans, Spencer soothed you momentarily before quickening his pace.

“Cum for me, baby. I'm close too, gonna make you a mommy… Gonna fill you up so much.” He was struggling to speak properly now, his strokes were becoming more and more aggressive as he reached his own peak. His words were enough to push you over, with a loud cry you came around his cock, clenching around him as your legs began to shake. You whined his name out, as he groaned again, this time with one last big stroke.

You felt him cum inside you, his cum painting your insides white. As he came, he fucked back into you a few more times sloppily, before leaning forward to kiss your back lightly. When he finally pulled out, your legs almost gave way, your grip on the counter keeping you steady. Spencer huffed a small laugh as he observed you, his eyes moved down to the glistening mess between your legs, he saw his cum beginning to leak out of you. He moved forward once more, steading you with one hand, whilst the other moved between your legs once again, gathering his cum and pushing it back into you, once more fucking you with his fingers. Another loud moan escaped your lips as he did this. You moved your head to the side to look at him, only to be met with a cock grin as he leaned forward 

“Just one more” He breathed, you were still coming down from your last high, so it didn’t take much for you to cum around his fingers once more. Once he was happy, he pulled up your pants, keeping his cum from dripping out of you. He carried you to your shared bedroom before dressing you in your pajamas, careful to keep your underwear on, and joined you in bed. He held you tightly as you snuggled into his chest.

“So… Can I clean myself up now?” You mumbled into his chest, giggling a little bit.

“Well, your chances of pregnancy increase the longer you keep sperm inside. Sperm can stay alive for up to 5 days in the body, but the best way to get pregnant is regular sex, usually every other night around the time you’re ovulating.” Spencer recited the random facts as casually as ever, but it made you jump slightly, you pulled back and sat up.

“Wait… are we ready for this?” You asked timidly, unsure of his answer. Spencer’s eyes met yours and looked fearful for a moment

“Well… We’ve been together for 4 years… I thought it through, and after today especially, I just want to start my life with you as soon as possible… But if you’re not ready we can go get a plan B tomorrow. I guess i got carried away and just went for it We can discuss this more-” You interrupted his amble with a kiss, soft and small.When you pulled back he was confused, cocking a brow at you now. 

“I’d love to start a family with you Spencer… Just, it's a bit nerve wracking.” You giggle. He flushes for a moment, hiding his face in the pillow.

“I'm sorry.” You hear, muffled by the pillow. You laugh lightly as you move him to face you again, giving him another soft kiss.

“But seriously, We have all the time in the world to get me pregnant. I'm gonna go shower.”

[tonycries]

Why Can't I Keep My Fingers Off You? [Part 2] - G.S. 

Synopsis. “Besides, Toru, just because it worked for you doesn’t mean it’ll work for me.” “Wanna bet?” For Satoru, convincing you to take the aphrodisiac chocolate too wasn’t the hard part - the hard part was being shoved into that bathroom stall, cock throbbing, mind spinning - trying not to beg for mercy. 

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected sex, slight femdom, overstimulation (male), lots of cum, you absolutely ruin Satoru, semi-public sex, subby! Satoru, aphrodisiac sex, multiple rounds, shutting up Gojo Satoru by making him cum in his pants, pet names (darling, my girl), swearing.

Word count. 3.7k

A/N. Can be read as a standalone, but PART 1 HERE.

Bros this was mad hard to write oml. Art by @_3aem on X.

Satoru had everything he needed to absolutely ruin you tonight.

Overpriced Cartier glasses? Check.

Jet-black Hellcat freshened up, ready with a little surprise for you inside? Check.

You, all dolled up and brows furrowed adorably at him? Holy shit, check.

“Toru, if we’ve missed our reservation because you had beef with the neighborhood cat again…”

“He was looking at you wrong! I had to defend your honor!” Dramatic protests falling on deaf ears, Satoru speeds through the darkening city streets, still grumbling under his breath about “cats these days”.

With your fiancé being absolutely swamped with missions recently, you’d been anticipating this night for weeks now.

Little did you know, Satoru had just as much - if not more.

Soon enough, the neon lights of that upscale, new restaurant you’d been absolutely dying to visit recently come into view. 

Okay, it’s time. 

“Y’know…” he begins, glancing at you with that familiar mirthful glint in his eyes. Laughter bubbling to his throat at your knowing stare, he plows on “Remember that one night where I just so happened to come across your special chocolate?”

“You mean swiped from my secret stash?”

“Semantics” he waves off. “But anyway, I was thinking…” he voice trails off mischievously as he swiftly turns to grab the mysterious black bag sitting on the backseat that you’d been eyeing suspiciously ever since you got in the car.

Oh shit, so that’s what he was onto. Eyes widening, “Toru, no.”

He whines, a pout forming on his lips. “C’monnn, no one’s gonna know except me. I want to make this night unforgettable, my girl.”

You raise a brow, “Unforgettable? Toru, your idea of unforgettable will end up with both of us arrested.”  After the madness of last time, you’d ignored his sticky note for a reason!

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you try to justify - probably to yourself just as much as Satoru, “And just because the aphrodisiac worked for you doesn’t mean it’ll work for me.”

He wiggles his eyebrows, twinkling eyes still undeterred. “Wanna bet? I’ll do the dishes for all of next month. We’ll never know till we find out, darling.” 

You narrow your eyes at the hand already snaking its way inside the bag, faded finger marks from last time still searing into your skin. Catching Satoru’s gaze - behind the amusement, something else shines darkly. 

Shit.

Goosebumps erupt down your spine. 

A beat passes. One. Two. Only the revving of the engine filling the tense air. 

“...two months.” 

It’s all Satoru can do to not jump in joy in his seat right now - knowing his girl, you’ll probably take back what you said and immediately bonk him on the head for being so ridiculous. 

“Deal.” he mutters lowly, pulling up to the driveway.

 A flash of hot pink. In the short time it takes the valet to reach your car, Satoru has already split that too-familiar chocolate, holding out the bigger part to you, eyes gleaming with excitement. “I swear this’ll be a night you won’t forget.” he grins, biting into the chocolate. 

God, he was going to be the death of you. 

The decadent flavor washes over your tongue, a slight tingling on your tastebuds. But, it’s still just chocolate, right? You scoff - at least you won’t have to do the dishes for two months.

Now, Satoru knows he won’t have to do the dishes for two months. 

Ah, how heavenly you’d be, splayed out and begging for mercy underneath him. Heels clacking against the polished tile and your hand warm in his as the maître d’hôtel ushers you both inside, dick twitching in anticipation. Shit, was the chocolate working already?

He risks a glance at how you’re faring - nope, still normal. That’s okay, he’ll be driving you crazy in no time.

---

Okay, maybe he won’t be driving you crazy in no time. 

How dare you sit there so gorgeous and unbothered, sipping slowly on your wine while he’s here mind whirling around how he’ll fuck you right here right now on this table without getting arrested for public indecency.

Fuck, it was hitting him hard.

Cock aching, heat rushing to his cheeks, eyes bleary - he sighs in frustration, resigning himself to do the dishes for two months.

Why did he even think of this? Damn his big fucking ego, he should’ve never taken that chocolate again. Maybe if he eats you out just right he could lower it to-

A feathery touch on his thigh. Too light for any sort of friction - just enough to set his skin ablaze. So deft that Satoru thinks he must’ve imagined it.

Until there it is again. Soft caress dancing delicately up his thigh. 

You.

A shiver creeps down his spine, blood rushing straight to his dick. Probably for the first time in his life, Satoru is speechless - maybe because you’ve reached underneath the table, teasingly sliding a heel along the top of his thigh.

“…darling…”

“Hmm?”

He blinks away the haze in his eyes, raising them to meet yours. “Wha-”

Oh. Oh, fuck.

What has he gotten himself into?

Eyes half-lidded, brows furrowed, and looking into his soul with a predatory glint that jolts the great Gojo Satoru right to his very core - and to his throbbing cock. He’d be lucky to make it out alive. Maybe he should just beg for his life right now.

Minutes tick by - or maybe it was seconds - Satoru is clueless. Mind only focused on the heel inching closer and closer, dangerously near to where he needed you the most. A smug smirk curls your pretty lips as his mouth drops into a soft oh.

The air crackles with an unspoken tension - his hips trying to subtly move you towards the erection furiously straining against his pants. He needed it so bad. It’s fucking pathetic, he knows. But he couldn’t give less of a fuck as your sole grazes his aching head. Pressing down. Hard.

“Fuck!”

Stomach flipping - before Satoru could fully process what the fuck was happening - he cums embarrassingly in thick spurts that pool on his pants, soaking right through the fabric, probably smearing on your new heels.

Head spinning, he bites his knuckles hard enough to draw blood, muffling the desperate moans threatening to escape his lips. 

He grinds his hips in shallow, mindless motions in a desperate attempt for more friction.

Instead, he gets the opposite.

“Behave, Toru.” you warn, swiftly resting your heel back on the floor, voice strained with something that makes his sensitive dick quiver animalistically. 

You huff out a chuckle at the almost-inaudible whimper of disappointment that rips from his throat. It’s laughable, really, he was supposed to be the one ruining you. This was so not fucking suave.

Face burning - whether due to the chocolate or embarrassment at the warm patch on his pants, he doesn’t even know - Satoru wishes the Earth would swallow him up whole. Would it be overkill to just teleport outta here?

The only thing that snaps Satoru out of his little reverie is your pretty lips forming into a tut. “Now now, Toru. It’s rude to make a mess at a restaurant. Why don’t we go to the restrooms and get you cleaned up, hm?”

Oh. Shit. 

A firm grip on his arm, his hands desperately covering his crotch. 

He was not going to make it out of this alive. 

Honestly, it wasn’t hard to bribe the waitress into letting you follow into the restroom after your fiancé - and put up an Out of Order sign promptly afterward. The actual hard part was trying not to rip off his clothes and give into your desires before you two even made it there. But you couldn’t let anyone else see him like that, of course. 

You were sure that if you had Satoru’s powers then you would’ve hollow purpled everyone here and taken him already.

You were going to ruin him.

Mind running a mile a minute, Satoru wouldn’t even be surprised if he’d just teleported to the restroom. If he was in a better state of mind he might’ve even admired the decor.

“My girl.” he breathes out, voice ragged. It’s all that is said before your lips are on his. 

It was like a fever dream - the bruising urgency of your lips, your aching pussy, and the heat of the stall as your quickened breaths mingle in a desperate dance. Your tongue intertwining with his. 

Manicured nails ripping his shirt open, you don’t have half the mind to register the designer buttons hitting the floor.

Satoru’s lips hazily chase yours as you pull away delicate strings of spit snapping just as quickly as your sanity. 

Your mouth waters at Satoru’s chest in all its chiseled glory, creamy skin peeking out from whatever remnants of the shirt were clinging to his sculpted shoulders. You wanted to ruin him.

“You dirtied my heels, Toru.” you frown, mockingly innocent. A choked-up gasp leaves his throat as you snake a hand down to firmly grip the erection straining against Satoru’s wet pants. Unmoving. “What shall we do about that, hmm?” 

“Ah! Please, my girl.”

“Please what? Use your words, Toru.”

“Please. Wanna cum so bad.”

Satoru learned the hard way that he could never turn back after uttering those words. 

Though, he already had an inkling once you immediately slam him against the stall door, fumbling with his belt, nails digging hard into his prominent v-line. “If you say so, Toru. Better not stop till you’re shooting blanks.”

The only thing that registers in his mind is the deadbolt echoing throughout the empty bathroom and his still-rock hard cock throbbing in your hands. 

“Ah- hah! Fuck.” low groans leave his throat at each jerky movement down his length. 

Head thrown back, pants bunched underneath his heavy balls, your tits pressing against his body as your hands urgently move along his veined length - up, up, up. 

Your thumb harshly teases his flushed head, spreading the precum from his leaking tip lewdly. “Oh God.”

His knees buckle, hands slamming against the top of the stall hard enough to make the walls tremble, desperately trying to keep himself from collapsing. Mind spinning, he doesn’t even know if he’s on planet Earth anymore.

“Toru~ Gonna let me join in on the fun?” your dangerous purr sends his cock twitching, breath hot against his ear.

Your cunt quivers, slick soaking your panties and trailing down your legs at the pornographic moans spilling from his lips as you fucked his thick cock with your fist. You wanted him so badly it was driving you insane.

Straddling a muscled thigh, your clothed core meets the fabric of his pants. It was already ruined, so what was another stain?

You grind your hips down on him, hard. Humping him like an animal in heat. 

Your slick seeping into the fabric of his leg. Harsh texture stimulating your needy cunt so painfully good. Swollen folds parting, mewls of pleasure leave your swollen lips as your clit catches on the rough fabric of his overly expensive pants. Over and over. 

Distantly, you register a strong hand tugging roughly on the thin fabric of your panties - easily ripping it and letting it fall to god-knows-where. 

Your hand doesn’t let up either, milking Satoru’s cock mercilessly the way you’d been dying to ever since you stepped foot into his restaurant. Your head spins, hips moving so animalistically on Satoru’s thigh.

A hand reaches down to sensually massage his heavy balls, squeezing and pressing hard circles - just the way you knew he liked it. 

“Oh, my girl. Always so good t’me- Ah! Hngh, gonna-” 

Satoru doesn’t get to finish his sentence before he’s pumping hot ropes of seed that decorate your pretty hands. Hips fucking up into you desperately.

You’re not far behind, juices squirting all over that expensive fabric, pooling on the tiled ground with a drip! drip! drip! that bounces off the walls of the restroom.

You two were so fucking loud. 

But right now, you wouldn’t even mind if anyone walked in to see your Satoru so debauched - as long as they see you fucking the soul out of him as well. 

It wasn’t enough.

“You said you wanted to cum, didn’t you, Toru?”

A shiver runs down his spine - all the way to his dick. “What? W-wait, darling. Fuck- Oh!” the strained words tumble out of Satoru’s kiss-bitten lips as you push down his soaked pants, kneeling to leave a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down to his twitching, thick base. 

“I won’t be merciful, Toru.”

Ah, you could do this forever.

Nipping teasingly till you’re satisfied with the bite marks decorating his pelvis, you pool the saliva in your mouth, spitting a long stream into his furiously flushed head.

Once. Twice. Mixing enticingly with his precum, trailing down his length. “Ah! Hngh- oh, darling. So sensitive-” he bucks his hips into you, moaning loudly.

“You can do it f’me, Toru.” you murmur darkly against his twitching tip. Satoru keens as you take him until his fat head hits the back of your throat, pulsing around your warm mouth.

Your fiancé’s choking on his breaths more than you as you hollow your mouth, bobbing up and down at a ruthless pace. Gagging, you shove his throbbing dick all the way in with a desperation that eclipses the need for air, till you’re nose-deep in those tufts of snowy hair. 

“Oh, darling. Jus’ like that. Losing m’mind.” he whines.

Your pussy quivers at Satoru’s slightly salty taste, making you moan around his rock-hard length. Drool and precum dribble down the corner of your mouth, mixing with the mascara running down your cheeks. It was debauched. It was messy. And it was exactly how you wanted him. 

Tonguing Satoru’s sensitive slit in a delicate dance, you feel drunk off his sinful moans as you suck on him desperately. Breathless. Craving for more. 

Looking up to see a delicate streak of tears falling down his pretty face at the overstimulation, your cunt clenches around nothing. Fuck, you could just devour him.

“Cum, Toru.”

It was too much for him- 

Tight balls twitching sensitively, he cums onto your ready tongue. Fucked out whimpers leave his lips, tears clinging to his long, white lashes as he paints your pretty mouth with his thick, white seed.

Ah, he was always your favorite taste. Tasted so good - so good that you could cum untouched. 

And you do.

Eyes rolling to the back of your head and pussy clamping down on nothing as you reach your high.

You milk his cock ruthlessly, relishing in the thick cum flowing down your throat. But it still wasn’t enough.

Removing yourself off his dick with a lewd pop! you reach a hand to grab Satoru’s flushed throat, nails placed right over his thundering pulse. With a single tug, the great Gojo Satoru is on his knees before you, in the bathroom of some fancy restaurant. 

Walls still quivering, you stand over him, connecting your sweaty forehead - and your mouth - with his. 

Kiss-bitten and smeared with your lipstick, Satoru’s lips are soft - or maybe that’s the cum coating yours. A part of you delights in his half-lidded, fucked out gaze as your eyes bore into his - does he even know what he’s doing anymore? 

Hot seed flowing down his throat, Satoru can do nothing else but kneel there and take it. He feels lightheaded, all the blood in his brain rushing to his cock as you suck on his tongue. This was driving him insane. You were insane.

And he fucking loved it.

“You d-drive me insane, my girl.” his words muffled by your hand still around his throat. His voice cracks with sensitivity in a way he would definitely be embarrassed about if he were in the right mind. 

Yet, how could he ever be with the slow, feral smile that spread across your beautiful face?

Leaning down, you whisper lowly against his ear. “I’m the same, Toru.” 

Maybe it’s your words, and the hot breath that sends shivers down his spine. Or maybe it’s the way you lift your dress so alluringly - cunt dripping on full display, slick trailing down your legs. 

All Satoru knows is, he’s surging forwards. He’s got your front pressed against the cold wall, cock twitching to life and bullying its way through your swollen folds. 

Mindlessly, a strong hand smacks against the stall as Satoru tries to keep himself steady. Too drunk off of you - off of your whimpers of his name, and the feeling of your plush walls clamping down on his throbbing erection, struggling to accommodate his size despite being so dripping wet. 

He doesn’t give a fuck. 

“Hngh- S’tight. Oh, fuck! S-sucking my cock back hah- in s-so needily” 

Ramming in and out of your hole at a merciless cadence, Satoru’s balls smack your clit so animalistically. You two feel like a pair of fucking animals. 

Shudders of overstimulation and pleasure wrack his body. Chest heaving, his blown-out eyes roll to the back of his head at the rapid, desperate thrusts inside your warm core. 

Pulling out all the way to slam back in mercilessly, Satoru could pass out at the sight of your ass jiggling as it arches to meet the rhythm of his hips. 

“God, m’girl. Gonna- gonna cum ah! Fill this pussy the way you want-” he groans raspily into the heady air of the stall, exhausted cock shooting wispy strings of cum that fill you up - some missing as he pumps into you, spilling out to paint your swollen folds white.

Before he knows it, a low hiss leaves his throat as you remove yourself off of his furiously pulsing cock - only to shove him seated on the commode. 

You take a split-second to admire your gorgeous fiancé - face flushed as much as the prettily leaking tip of his throbbing cock, eyes dazed and miles away, curtained by his sweaty white locks. A delicate trail of drool made its way down the corner of his ruby, kiss-bitten lips. Exactly how you wanted him.

What a fucking picture. Maybe you should take that chocolate more often…

“Toru~ Remember what I said? You’re not tapping out, are you?” you hum, eyes narrowing at the way his erection twitches so ferally at your dangerous tone. 

“Ah- don’t know- Can’t, please.”

You loom dangerously close, a hand reaching out to mockingly push his cheeks together, drool pooling at your fingertips. “I’ve told you before, Toru. Use your words. Please what?”

“M-mercy, please!” pathetic pleas muffled by your hand.

“Mercy?”

“Mercy!”

“No mercy for you, my darling Toru.”

The great Gojo Satoru, begging for mercy, will face none at your hands. 

You straddle his muscled legs, shivering with sensitivity. “Ah! Hah- Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god-” he whines nonstop as his quivering tip teases your swollen, messy folds. In one, fluid motion, you sheath him fully in your dripping cunt.

Ah, you feel so full. 

You relish in the way he twitches instinctively inside you. Steadying yourself using Satoru’s shoulders, you drag your cunt along his length, his prominent veins grazing that one spot inside you. Pulling out till his thick head teases your entrance, you drop down - inch by inch - over and over.

Satoru thinks he could cry right now - or maybe he already is. He doesn’t know, nor does he care - not when you’re so beautiful and fucked out, nails digging into his shoulders and heart eyes palpable in your gaze as you ride his sensitive cock into insanity.

He can’t stop the ragged moans that escape his swollen lips, head thrown back and hips bucking up exhaustedly into you to meet your every bounce. A hand is at his throat, pulling your face to his, “Don’t run away, Toru~”

He felt so raw. More a feral beast than a man as he watches his abused cock get swallowed up over and over by your wet pussy.

If he thought his dick was broken after this time then it’s really unsalvageable now.

He wanted to run away. He wanted more. He wanted you to keep looking at him with that fucking predatory gaze that made a carnal part of him twitch so good. He wanted to cum.

“I wan’- I wanna cum, please, my girl.” Satoru gasps out, teary eyes blown and looking up at you so delicately.

“Cum?”

“Yes.”

“Cum, Toru.”

Maybe it was the glint of fondness in your eyes, maybe it was the piercing of teeth as you bit down hard into the crook of his neck. Or maybe it was the way your snug cunt clamped down on him so sinfully as you cum as around him. But Satoru is immediately bucking up into your hips - reaching his climax, if you can even call it that. Poor, exhausted cock cumming dry. “Ah- Cumming- M’cumming hgnh-”

Satoru doesn’t even know if he feels his orgasm, just waves of pleasure that overwhelm him as he rides it out on your cunt. 

Ah, he thinks if heaven was a person then it would be you. 

Maybe he’s died already.

“Toru? Open your eyes, darling.”

Slowly opening the eyes that he didn’t even realize he had furiously scrunched closed, Satoru slowly blinks his vision back.

An angel?

“No, Toru, your fiancé.” you huff out a laugh. Oh shit, he said that out loud? 

Head still reeling from, well, everything - the great Gojo Satoru can do nothing else but sit there, exhausted and fucked out of his mind as you slowly remove yourself off his twitching cock. He’s never felt so vulnerable - so ruined.

Ah, someone remind him to never let you have a bite of that chocolate every again. 

A low hiss leaves him, along with a few tears that later he swears were never there. 

As you tenderly clean both yourselves up in the humid stall, Satoru thinks he’s never been handled with so much care. Ah, he loves your gentle hands. He loves you.

“I love you too, Toru.” you whisper into the intimate silence. Oh, shit, he said that out loud again?

Your beautiful laugh, “Yes, you did, Toru.” Throwing away the used tissues, you grin “Y’know they’ve probably brought out our food by now.”

Absent-mindedly, “Mhm?”

“I was thinking I wanted chocolate for dessert.”

A/N. Oh Satoru, you poor, innocent fool…

Also this turned out longer than expected. Reblogs so so appreciated!

Plagiarism not authorized.

Taglist:

@sage-ove @mo0nforme @thirtykiwis @planetzetra

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: A fight about a rumor, a confrontation, an admission, and suddenly your in the back of your car with no pants on.

Word Count: 4.7 k

Warnings:

“Get back ‘ere,” Lt. Simon Riley’s deep voice bellows angrily at the back of your quickly fleeing head as you storm clench fisted out of his private quarters before it disappears from his sight for a moment as you slam his door behind you so hard that it bounces off the frame and swings back open. He has no clue where you’re off to, but by the direction you’re headed, it looks like you’re going straight towards the parking lot. 

God dammit, this isn’t how this is supposed to go. He curses himself for the way his emotions get the best of him sometimes and especially right now.

A mess of heavy breaths and barred teeth, you try to ignore the boot steps barreling towards you from behind. Nothing and no one is going to stop you from getting out of here and away from him, so you keep your face down, eyes staring at the long shadow of your body splaying out in front of you as the sun slips down further to the horizon. When you do finally look up your car is close and getting closer; good. You need to get off this fucking base to calm down before you explode in rage and do something stupid…like put your fist through a wall.

Again the lieutenant calls out your name to your fading figure with no luck and watches as you reach your vehicle without even acknowledging him anymore. It’s no use, you’re gonna take off no matter what he does, so finally he gives up with a loudly growled “fuckin’ hell” in agitation just as you reach out for the handle, storming back into the room with another loud bang as the door shuts and stays closed this time. 

The noise makes the tension in your chest ease as you get in the driver’s seat and buckle up; at least he’s decided to actually leave you alone for now. Risking a quick glance back at the bare front of his closed door one more time you harshly turn the key in the ignition and peel out of the parking lot, screeching wheels and a flurry of gravel the only sign of your exit. 

“God dammit,” you mutter to yourself under your breath, your knuckles gripping into the steering wheel until they are white as you make your way up to the security booth to get cleared to leave. “What the fuck was that? Christ, he was angry. Has he lost his goddamn mind? Why does he think I have to put up with his shit?”

The guards at the stand can see the fury in your eyes as you roll up to the gate and they are quick to guide you through, not wanting to be on the receiving end of whatever has got you in a mood. They share a look between them after you drive off as somehow it feels like they’ve dodged a bullet, but that relief is short lived as not even ten minutes later the next person to come up to their gate has the same sour expression, except this one is partially shielded inside a jet black motorcycle helmet and black balaclava. 

Those eyes though…if looks could kill, the guards know they would have already dropped dead.

“Lieutenant,” one of them nods briskly as the motorcycle comes to a stop and the visor on the helmet is aggressively opened to reveal its occupant, “y-your good to go.”

Simon flips the visor back down with a single flick from his hand and revs the engine on his bike to peel away from the booth like a rocket towards the setting sun, headed in the same direction you had just gone minutes before. Faster and faster he pushes the engine; thank fuck there’s only one way you can go and if he makes sure to speed, he’s confident that he’ll catch up to you quick enough.

And then what? Simon’s anger is still blinding and he hasn’t thought that far ahead. All he knows is that he can’t just leave it like this and until you listen, he isn’t going to give up.

Your eyes are locked on the road, but it feels like you’re driving more by instinct rather than by sight as the only thing you can see right now is red. Simon’s harsh accusations swirl about in your head on repeat; not a good soundtrack to quiet your anger. This is not how you thought this day was going to end.

He had caught you headed back to your barracks and asked to speak. If you knew it was going to be an ambush for him to unload on you about something that was none of his business, you would have done everything to get out of letting him lead you inside his room. He didn’t even give you the chance to get a word in, to defend yourself, just kept spewing his heated thoughts about what he believed you were doing until finally you were able to get out.

If only he knew the truth… whatever, it didn’t matter now. You wouldn’t be kept on a short leash by someone who didn’t care.

You aren’t sure how many miles you’ve gone before you notice a motorcycle driving right behind you. They seem to be glued onto your bumper, keeping pace with you as you switch lanes, and when you make a sudden right and another directly after, they are still behind you and now you’re sure; you know that bike and its rider. 

How the fuck did he get behind you so fast? 

Simon flashes his lights at you before throwing on his blinker to indicate that he wants you to pull over, but you aren’t on base and don’t feel like following his orders right now. Let him chase after you for a little while more, that’s what he deserves. Who knows, maybe he’ll realize that this is a fucking stupid idea and he should really head back. Wishful thinking; you know him too well to even pretend that he’ll give up when he has his mind set on something. 

A few more miles and again he hits his lights; he’s not going to stop following you until you give him what he wants. He knows he came at you too strong before, but he isn’t done with the conversation. He is compelled to put a stop to this before it gets any more out of hand, he has to. One more time, he flashes his lights.

“Really, Simon? I don’t want to fucking do this,” you curse him in a mumble with a scoff. Looking into your rearview mirror, you throw up your hands in defeat to silently indicate you’re ready to get this over with, wherever he decides to take this. It’s almost dark now anyway; you can get this done and then immediately head down to the bar to grab a much needed drink.

Up ahead is the abandoned parking lot of an old grocery store that looks like it has been closed for some time. Simon speeds up to get ahead of you to act as a guide and you throw your blinker on and turn in. He leads you towards the back of the store and away from the street and the traffic; more privacy for you to ‘talk’. 

Great, more yelling, you think as you put the car in park before coming to a full stop. You scramble out in a huff and slam the door shut so hard that the windows vibrate.

“What?” you say between gritted teeth, leaning up against your car as you wait for him to get off his bike; you’re gonna make him come to you. 

He removes his helmet, setting it carefully on the handlebars before stalking over to where you stand. “I said I wasn’t going to talk about this anymore,” you continue on in the same heated tone, “so why are you following me? What the fuck do you want now?”

“That’s really how you’re gonna talk ta me?” he questions, matching your energy. “I’m still your fuckin’ lieutenant.” 

“That’s how I talk to assholes so stick their fucking noses where they don’t belong and then get mad when they don’t like what they find,” you return, crossing your arms across your chest to hide how labored your breathing is from your anger. You don’t want him to know just how much he’s gotten under your skin, even though you know your face is probably giving it all away anyway. 

He told himself to stay calm, but there is no helping the emotional reaction he has that causes him to immediately match your energy and the fight picks right back up as if it never stopped. “Oh, is that right?” he growls. “I’m tha asshole? And what the fuck does that make ya, princess?”

“Don’t turn this back on me,” you press the matter. “I didn’t do anything; you’re the one that has the problem. I just don’t understand why you can’t let it go. Do you not have anything better to do than get in my personal life?” 

Simon licks his lips behind his mask to keep him from losing the shred of composure he has left. “Better watch it, luv.”

You’re done with him, his attitude, and this conversation. “I will say it again, so maybe you’ll finally get it through your thick skull. What I do in my free time is my business. You have no right to confront me about anything.”

“I think I do,” he returns.

“Why? Because we hooked up a couple of times? That doesn’t give you the right to act like we’re a couple,” you say heatedly. “We agreed that it was we needed at the time to let off some steam, that the couple times it happened meant nothing. Now you’re acting like a fucking child just because I enjoy having company?”

Your blood is boiling now because he’s doing all this without having the facts. This supposed company you are entertaining isn’t even real, it is all a rumor started by a rejected private with nothing better to do, but you aren’t about to tell him that. He doesn’t need to know because it shouldn’t matter; you’re not together, never were, and he has no right to any knowledge about what you do behind closed doors. 

This is the type of arrangement he wanted after all, no strings attached. His idea, not yours, so why the possessiveness all of a sudden? After all you had done to make sure your feelings on the matter never got out it only makes you more irate to feel like a caged animal; damned if you do, damned if you don’t. 

Because what you really want is standing right in front of you and you can’t have it.

“Ya couldn’t even tell me ya were screwin’ around?” he says, stepping up in intimidation. “Ya don’t think that makes it sound like ya knew it was a problem?”

His entitlement feels like an attack and you won’t stand for it. “You can’t keep me on a leash like this when you don’t even have a claim,” you bark, getting in his face. “You might be my lieutenant, but what I’m doing or not doing outside of military business isn’t for you to worry about. And once again, we aren’t together. Stop acting jealous.”

He stares you down, menacing glare locked to your eyes as his chest heaves up and down exasperatedly. “Neva said I was fuckin’ jealous,” he starts, but you promptly cut him off.

“Yeah, right,” the accusation spills out like acid, finger poking into the middle of his chest. “And the fact you can’t fucking drop it is because you’re concerned, right? Bullshit. But you know what? I don’t care. I promise you, this is the last we will ever speak about it. You hear me? Just leave me the fuck alone.”

You shove past Simon as he stands there silently fuming to walk off somewhere along the building, clearly hoping that he will turn back for the base. His heart is beating out of his chest as he stares daggers into the back of your head…because you actually guessed right. He is jealous and it is eating away at him. 

Blinded by his overwhelming emotions, he moves without thinking about the repercussions of his actions. Taking fast steps, he catches up to you as you walk along by the brick wall of the store and takes you by surprise. He reaches out with his large, strong hand and wraps tightly around the back of your neck to pull you backward to him, turn you around, and pin you against the brick by your throat.

Simon blocks your body with the bulk of his, trapping you so you can’t get away again. His grip is firm, but not painful and you look up into his masked face as if trying to read his eyes. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, the residual anger pumping through your veins so it’s still in your voice.

There is a pause, more silence, before he speaks. “Handlin’ something,” he says with a growl.

“You clearly can’t handle anything, Simon,” you comment with an agitated chuckle. 

“Shut it,” he demands in a harsh bark. “Ya think ya know every fuckin’ thing, don’t ya?” He shakes his head, jaw visibly clenching even behind the mask. “Ya can’t even see what’s right in front ‘a your face.”

Your brow furrows; what the hell is he talking about? His remark catches you off-guard and you stand silently in confusion as you contemplate what the hell he’s trying to say, but he’s gone completely silent, just breathing heavy breaths into your face. Enough, he needs to just spit out so this can end. 

“Since I’m so fucking stupid, why don’t you spell it out for me. Stop playing these fucking games with me, Simon.”

Fine, no more games. His skin tingles with the heat from the adrenaline flooding his limbs and all at once everything happens in a flash. Only inches remain between you and in that moment they suddenly feel as wide as the ocean; it makes him ache and the urge to close the distance overwhelms every sense. Reaching towards his face with his free hand his mask is wrenched above his lips before he pulls your head forward by your throat and leans in to catch your mouth with his. The kiss is so full of aggression that it knocks the air out of your lungs. 

There is nowhere for you to go, nothing you can do, but hold on as he takes what he wants from your mouth. He steals kiss after frantic kiss as if he has been starved for them, not evening pausing to give you a second to come up for breath.  

All that anger that had just been bubbling inside you is redirected and suddenly instead of wanting to push him away you want him as close as possible. Your fingers claw into his shoulders through his leather riding jacket as you try to pull him into you, but they are immediately ripped off as he grabs them and pins the wrists to the wall above your head. Between the breaks in your mouth’s connection, he gasps out the words he should have said back in his room. 

“Ya need ta understand. Can’t just have ya a few fuckin’ times and tha’s it. Can’t get enough a ya. Was a goddamn fool not ta speak up sooner. Want ya for myself an’ I don’t share what’s mine. An’ you’re mine, luv,” he gasps into your parted lips, giving your neck a squeeze for emphasis. “Ya hear that? Mine.”

He nips at your bottom lip, sharp teeth cutting into the plump flesh to make you moan at the delicious harshness. God, your desperate sounds are like a drug; he can’t get enough and the more needy you become, the better they get. Pulling back just as you try to go in for more, he stares into your eyes, his gaze darkening within the confines of his mask still clinging to the top half of his face. “Can’t ‘ave anyone else tryin’ to get at what’s mine. Any prick that tries ta take ya away from me, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill ‘im.”

Admission finished Simon’s eyes flutter closed as he dives right back into your lips, this time shoving his tongue into your mouth, parting through your lips as he forces his way in until the muscle has filled you full. It plays against the roof of your mouth and over your tongue, tasting you, devouring all he can like a beast ravenous to take all that it can get. 

All that pent up desire being released onto you.

His bulky muscles against your chest crush your body into the wall and you can barely breathe, but you would gladly suffocate if it meant your curves could stay molded into each other like this for longer. Then you feel it, that bulge straining against the zipper of his jeans, and the walls of your pussy involuntarily clench. Suddenly you need it inside you. 

As if he has read your mind, Simon wrenches himself from your lips. “Unless ya want me ta fuck ya on the side ‘a this buildin’, get to tha car,” he growls, his voice husky. “Now.”

It only takes  a few seconds before you’re both jostling into the back of your car and slamming the doors shut, Simon’s jacket discarded on the ground right outside the door. His massive size takes up most of the cramped interior of the vehicle, but still he manages to maneuver onto his knees over top of you as he lays your back down against the seat. With one hand he undoes your pants, clasp first and then zipper, and pulls them down just under the curve of your ass and forcefully rips them off your legs as he rips his shirt off over his head with the other. The mask is taken with it and all the clothes get tossed somewhere into the floor of the car as he hikes one of your legs up to rest on his broad shoulder.

“Need it,” he says, feverishly kissing down the length to your thigh. “Need ta be inside ya right this second.”

“Yes, Simon,” you whimper as he undoes his jeans and pulls out his cock. It bobs up and down with the beats of his heart and he moans at the sensitivity as he takes it into his hand.

“Ya said I didn’t ‘ave a claim, well I’m ‘ere to claim ya now. But I need ta say it, sweetheart,” he returns as his fingertips hook into the crotch of your panties to pull them to the side before he angles himself against your pussy and starts slipping himself through your petals with agonizingly slow thrusts of his hips. “Say you’re mine.”

You swallow to coat the dryness in your throat. “I’m yours Simon,” you say, but the measured nature of his strokes don’t stop.

“Again.”

The tip of his cock prods against your clit and you whimper at how swollen it is and how much you need something to take the edge off. “I’m all yours Simon!” you whimper so pathetically as the throbbing intensifies the more he repeats the same. 

His hand digs harder into your hip as he leans in closer to your face. “I. Said. Again.” 

You close your eyes tight, clenching as you pant and gather the strength to reply with everything you have. “Simon, baby, please. I fucking need you so bad. I can’t fucking take it. I swear that I am only yours; there won’t ever be anyone else.”

The heat of his lips near yours makes you shiver. “Look who can’t handle things now,” he says with a smugness that makes goosebumps raise over your skin. “ Now, arch ya back a little more for me.” His command is direct and you follow without hesitation, presenting yourself to him like you are in heat, begging to be filled.  

“Fuck sweetheart, jus’ tha thought of ya with anyone else gets me so god damned riled up,” he says with a grunt as he positions himself at your entrance, your panties nearly ripping still laced in his fingers. “No one can ‘ave ya like this ‘cept me. Understand?”

You give him a vigorous nod, praying that soon the agony will end. “No one.” Your repeated words are a plea.

Simon’s heart races at how you say it. “You’re neva’ gonna stray, are ya?”

“No,” you whine.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” 

With that he shoves in just the tip through the threshold, instantly feeling the stretch of your core by the girth of it, groaning through a chuckle as you mewl taking him in. He doesn’t give you time to adjust and snaps his hips to thrust all the way down to the base of his shaft. The wind gets knocked out of you, but again he doesn’t pause and the axle of the car creaks as his desperate strokes overwhelm everything from you to the vehicle with the force.

“Ya think anyone else can make ya feel like this?” he asks through gritted teeth as he pounds into you hard and rough over and over again in rhythm. “Some manky bastard gonna make ya moan like this?”

There’s no way you can answer him with how full your mouth is with moans, how numb your mind is as everything in you focuses on the sensation of his thrusts reaching deeper and deeper inside. It only gets worse when he decides that one leg on his shoulder isn’t enough; it needs its twin on the opposite one. From here you swear you can feel him in your stomach with how deep he penetrates.

“Ya think he would even know what ya like? How to play with your clit, how to suck on your tits till you’re vibratin’ and your toes curl?”

How the fuck did he remember all that? You’ve only been together a few times and yet it’s obvious that he’s paid so much attention to detail that he’s memorized everything of those intimate details that make you a mess. As if right on cue his hand slips down between your bodies and parts through your petals to massage the nub at the top of your pussy.

“Ya think I wouldn’t care ta know what ya like?” he asks, the gravel in his voice delicious and yet menacing as you throw your head back and release a loud moan. “How else am I gonna make sure ya belong ta me? I need ta fuckin’ ruin this sweet little pussy so no one else can compare. I wanna be the only fuckin’ thing in that pretty head ‘a yours.”

As if you’d ever have the strength after this to even think of another man that isn’t him. The fictional man that got you into this predicament didn’t even exist and yet somehow you still feel guilty about him. There is only Simon, your Simon, that you can’t get enough of; no one else can ever come close. 

The lights in the parking lot kick on just as the last bit of daylight slips under the horizon and you can see now just how fogged up the windows are as Simon rips up your shirt and bra together, stuffing the clothing up around your neck and popping both breasts out of their cage before letting your legs slips from his shoulders to fall and wrap around his hips.

“Can’t forget about these beauties,” he growls before diving in face first and catching one with his mouth. 

Hot lips latch on as he braces a hand against the steam-covered window to hold himself steady so that he can continue to pump in and out of your tight hole and play with your clit as his tongue teases the nipple until it’s stiff and you can feel the pleasurable sensation down between your thighs. The moans filling the car come faster and faster as the heat gathering in the pit of your stomach grows. Simon doesn’t even come up for air, just switches sides to play with the other nipple until it too is hard; he wants a matching set before you come and he is gonna get what he wants. 

Your thighs squeeze down on his hips as that heat violently gathering in the pit of your stomach starts to come to a head and a devilish idea floods your thoughts. It won’t be long now and your orgasm will be coursing through you, but that’s not enough. If he wants to claim you, he is going to claim all of you…and fill you full. 

“Don’t pull out,” you stammer out and he falters in his thrusts. 

Simon quickly releases your breast from his mouth.“What did ya say?” 

You lock your ankles together tightly behind his back so he can’t escape. “Don’t you dare pull out,” you repeat and he nearly comes right then and there just from how the request makes his heartbeat pound. “God, I’m so close, baby. Please, I need you to come in me.”

Fuck, what a request. How the hell could he possibly refuse? He made a declaration after all and he intends to keep it; he is going to ruin you and he is more than willing to breed you to do it. His hands move to your hips and he buries his fingers in the muscles. 

“Then you’re gonna get what ya fuckin’ want, sweetheart,” he says as he strikes up into you with a newfound vigor that makes your body bounce. “You’re gonna take every last goddamn ounce.”

“Right there,” you moan, the pressure euphoric, “stay right there.”

He grunts. “Come for me. Come on my cock. Let me feel that fuckin’ clench.”

He struggles to repeat the same exact movements, his own release about to pop off at any second, but with a bit of effort his hard work pays off and that heat reaches its peak. The tension snaps harshly and tears through you until your body is jerking as you ride out wave after wave of ecstasy.

God, the way your walls are fluttering around him as you let go is heaven and he loses himself in the sensation. All that tight, wet, heat sends tingles through his cock and he can no longer remain sane. 

“My pretty girl…” he murmurs, his thrusts slowly getting more sloppy… “mine…” he repeats,  nearly there, preparing to make sure you take every ounce of his cum and coat your walls… “all fuckin’ mine.”

That’s it, he can’t take another thrust and with an open-mouthed moan he comes hard. Cum shoots up inside you as he milks himself with your body until he has nothing left to give and kneels there resting inside you. You watch the muscles along his abdomen contract and release as he slowly comes back down from that high. 

Such a masterpiece of flesh.

Minutes pass until he feels like he can pull out and he spends that time peppering your lips with tender kisses. Finally he carefully removes your legs from around him and sets them down on either side of his thighs, holding them open so that he can lean back and watch his cum and your slick dribble out of your cunt onto the cushion beneath you. What a beautiful mess he’s made; he can’t stop staring at it as if he’s in a trance. 

A visual sign that his claim is finally complete.

“Tha’s a sight that could do me in,” he breathes. “Ya did so good for me, sweetheart.”

He releases your panties so that they fall back into place and you can feel everything starting to gather in the crotch. You sit up and he pulls your face in for one last kiss; you’ve been here long enough that if you don’t get out of here soon it’s gonna draw unwanted attention. 

“Now get your ass back ta base and make it quick,” he says as he pulls slowly from your lips, “I want ya in my room, in tha shower; ya got exactly 20 minutes so ya best not stop. I’m not done with ya just yet.”