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yanderenightmare · 11 months

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Nanami Kento

TW: yandere, NSFW, noncon/dubcon, inexperienced reader, virginity loss, size-difference, abuse of power, lies and manipulation, captive darling, age-gap

AN: thinking about a pervy sex therapist Nanami~

fem reader

You started coming to his home office once a week.

Unsure of it all, in the beginning, you were so nervous. He looked so strict – sitting opposite you in his dark brown leather chair with such a tight expression on his face.

But you came around to like him soon enough.

He was a nice man. Serious but tender with you – putting out freshly baked muffins on the coffee table and always giving you a warm cup of chamomile with vanilla and honey before getting started.

And he was knowledgeable too – had that mature air about him that seemed so polished and proficient you couldn’t help but hang off every word like it was scripture.

When he told you to stop wearing bras because they hinder natural breast growth, you listened, and when he said that keeping your pussy hairless was important for hygienic purposes, you believed him because you trusted him.

He diagnosed you with virgin anxiety and has been so patient with you ever since, helping you overcome it.

Professional enough to practice with you. Sticking a gloved finger inside your pretty pussy when you’re propped on his examination bed, testing out your tightness with words reassuring you that you just need to wait and allow your body to provide the wetness – smiling at you kindly, that way old men do, more with his eyes than his lips, when you’re weeping with slick enough to accommodate all three of his lengthy fingers inside you – squeezing on him so tight.

You gush, shaking your head while spluttering apologies when you cum around them, but he just rubs your clit slowly, with veteran steadiness – telling you it's only natural and healthy for a young woman like you to be so sensitive under a man's touch – that it’s nothing to be ashamed or scared of – on the contrary, it’s something you should feel very proud of.

He’s also kind enough to give you extra sessions – at least three times a week at his home office – sometimes even breaking his own rules, treating you to a house call, coming to your apartment for a nice little chat.

He even assigns you daily exercises for you to do on your own – though he encourages you to call him so he can guide you through it. Instructing you to wet your fingers in your mouth first before you touch yourself down there.

He listens to your little moans filtered through the phone – bated breaths and whimpers as you get yourself all bothered and needy for more.

He tells you to turn on the camera so he can see if you’re doing it right, and you listen – placing the phone in view of your tiny fingers struggling to reach and stuff your cute cunt.

He praises you on your good job – his own camera off, for obvious reasons – he can't have you seeing his raging shaft just yet, or how he jerks it to the sight of your tight little cunt. A deep furrow between his brows and his jaw locked tight, resolute in his plans of coaxing you into giving him your first time. He groans just thinking about it, splurting his load into his fist, listening to you moan for him. “This feels funny, Nanami-san~ Is this right? ~ Please, Nanami-san, teach me~”

He's been coveting your virginity for months now – grooming you – making you pliant and gullible, and soon, all his patience and hard work would pay off.

It’s cute that you don’t know it yet… but your pretty little pussy is all his.

He expertly works it into your sessions as an exercise. One he promises you’ll benefit from. Telling you your condition can be blamed on never having studied a real grown man’s cock – that, because it’s such a foreign thing to you, you end up fearing it.

He reminds you how this is a safe space – tells you that all he cares about is your wellbeing – as he sets himself next to you on the couch, his thick thigh next to yours, while buckling up his belt and zipping himself free – taking his fat erection out for you to lay your innocent eyes on.

“Here it is.” He clears his throat with a rusty sigh, sounding relieved when his manhood springs free, standing proud and fat.

His veins flex along his arm beneath dark blonde hair as he strokes the length lazily – up and down slowly. Making old noises – heavy sighs and hums – dragging the foreskin back and revealing its plush mushroomed head.

You take it in with doe eyes.

“Don’t be shy. Tell me your thoughts.”

You swallow thickly at the assignment, blinking out of your stare. Shocked and embarrassed, though curious, but also a little grossed out – you’re not sure what feeling you end up with. “Uhm- It’s very… big.”

He chuckles low at that. “Come on, you can do better. What else?” He urges you, offering another deep but light-hearted laugh. “You can be honest. It’s a little funny looking, huh?”

“Yeah-” You giggle lightly in return, though you’re still somewhat uneasy – sitting as though you plan on leaving, but staying nonetheless, at the edge of your seat – eyes glued to the chubby member, studying the curve of its spine and the veins forking their way up to its head.

“Feel up to touching it?” He asks, and your eyes snap to his – lined with crow’s feet and something so trustworthy.

But still, you promptly shake your head in embarrassment. “Oh- no, thank you, Nanami-san-” But he’s already taken your smaller hand in his, pulling you back by guiding it to his lap.

“No, no, little one- this is what we've been training for. You won’t get better if you don’t try.” He scolds you, voice both dismissive and reassuring all at once. “Here- feel it.”

He wraps your tiny fingers around the stout shaft and overlaps your hand with his, helping you find the rhythm – stroking it nice and slow.

“There you go, just like that. Good.”

You hesitate at first. Giving your lip a soft bite while thinking about his previous words.

Was he right? Are you scared because you've never looked at or touched a real penis before?

You don't want to be a virgin forever – it's embarrassing as an adult – it makes you still feel like such a silly little girl.

So... if Dr. Nanami says that this will help you overcome your fears, then you suppose...

You'll do it.

You gulp and follow his movement – up and down the large and lengthy pole.

It's so warm – pulsing in your grip, twitching at your soft touch. Skin so thin, almost rubbery, holding something much tougher than you’d imagined.

In your hand, it’s a lot bigger as well. You can’t even reach your fingers around the thickness to touch your thumb.

“All of this goes inside me?” You ask, under your breath – swallowing thickly while he leads your dainty hand downward into the hair around his base, then up to the wet tip, which pilled and trickled with white pearls getting caught between your fingers – warm and sticky.

“That’s right, every inch.” He answers – voice relaxed – pleased by how well you were doing. “Does that scare you?”

You bite your lip and rub your thighs together. “A little…”

“But it makes you feel a little warm, too, hm?” He suggests. “Makes your mouth wet? And also, that soft place between your legs?”

You make a nervous sound, digging your nails into your knee, where you let your other hand rest awkwardly.

He hums again with a soft chuckle. “Don’t be embarrassed, little one. It’s a good thing.” He ensures, encouragingly squeezing your hand underneath his while lifting the other up to your face, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear – before sliding it across the back of your neck. “Let's see you be brave and give it a taste.”

You hesitate again – this time a little more decidedly. “I don’t think I can-” But Dr. Nanami is strong, keeping your neck in a pinch as he guides you down into a bow.

“It’s alright, I’m here to help you. Just open your mouth, and I’ll show you how.” He insists soothingly. Spreading his thighs out further while laying your head down on his lap, hips moving languidly when brushing his shaft up between your lips.

It’s so big, so hot, pumping with warmth where you kiss it on the side on a particularly fat and throbbing vein.

He lifts you up slightly and angles the tip into your mouth, creating a cute bulge in your cheek where he rests his hand to keep you down when you flinch at the salty tang getting caught by your saliva. The taste quickly coats your entire tongue.

“Mmh- that’s a big girl~ getting her first mouthful of cock.” Dr. Nanami sighs with a groan, dropping his head back against the couch cushions while pushing up into the pouch of your cheek in lazy thrusts. It strains – makes you feel like it might poke through and make a hole.

He lets it settle there for a moment, enjoying the wet warmth and the unsure movements of your sweet tongue – not knowing where to go with all the space occupied by his meat.

But then he tangles both hands in your hair, gathering it all into a neat ponytail. And, lifting your skull up directly above, he sends his cock down your guzzle even when you whine out in meek protest.

“Breathe through your nose and try your best to swallow it down as far as your throat allows.” He instructs, keeping a tight-knit grip around your hair in one fist whilst the other hand slides down to pet your cheek in soothing circles.

Forcing it down your tight little amateur throat even when your jaw feels like it’s unlocking.

“Good girl.” He sighed once he’d wedged himself in all the way until your lips kissed the pubes at his base.

Your smaller hands dent the muscle of his thigh, offering a meager push. Mewing out a “Mrph-” while you gag around the trunk.

He holds you there, roosting inside your throat for another satisfying moment before easing up, pulling you up by your pony.

You gasp, halfway choked on your spit – but he's not much concerned.

“Stand up- let me feel.” He rushes out in a stiff order, ignoring how you cough and slurp for air – forcing you up to stand between his knees.

His firm hands plant themselves on your hips, being the only sturdy thing balancing you as you wobble – unsteady when he tugs your skirt and panties down until they drop into a pool around your ankles.

He then pulls you onto his lap – seating you with your back leaning against his chest with his cock gliding up through your inner thighs, rubbing against your bare cunt.

You’re still light-headed, bracing yourself against his broad chest while he keeps one thick arm strong around your waist – holding you snug. The other jerks his manhood, tapping it against your clit in soft spit-wet slaps.

“Let’s see how it feels inside you.” He grunts against your ear, resting his chin-stubbled jaw in the dip between your neck and shoulder – looking to where he has your thighs spread over his own.

“N-no, Nanami-san-” You manage to squeak out softly with a voice both teary and hoarse from choking. “Please- I’m not ready-”

But he doesn’t listen – and any struggle you try to inflict ends up aimless where you’re barred beneath his arm – strict and tough with brawn like it’s a seatbelt on a rollercoaster ride.

“I think you're more than ready for it. Trust me.” He’s growling now – so menacingly, you don’t dare speak against it. Only watching the glossy veiny beast with bleary eyes while he rubs through your pussylips with the fat plush bulge topping it – catching your clit and making you gasp before zoning down to your pretty little twitchy hole.

You whine when it’s forced to stretch open as he nudges himself inside the pill-sized opening despite your effort to climb away from it.

“It hurts, Nanami-san!” You cry, but he doesn’t pay it any mind.

“Your virgin pussy will understand it soon. Don’t worry.” He dismisses – continuing to ease his thickness into the tautness, knowing you must be feeling close to tearing apart once his head’s finally swallowed in with a pop, followed by his inches bullying through you one by one, each feeling like a painful mile.

You cry out, nearly screaming, “Please, Nanami-san! Take it out- it’s too much-” worming on his lap, trying to wiggle it out.

But he has you under reigns, and your struggling only results in him sinking inside you faster. Now, so deep you feel him nuzzle against your womb – and still it keeps sleaving itself until it curves against your walls and pudges out in a cute belly bulge.

“We've trained for this. You need to allow your body the time it takes to get comfortable.” He coos, sounding less on edge now that you’ve taken him inside your comfort.

His chest rumbles with satisfaction against your back as he sits there relaxed, bouncing you slackly but not too much just yet.

He keeps you seated but lifts his other arm to tug off your tiny T-shirt.

“Here, let's take this off. It’ll help.” He excuses, and you’re a little too desperate for the relief to refuse – listening to the kindness in his voice and lifting your arms in hope, letting him fling it off.

Only in socks now. You throw your head back and whine when he twists one of your pretty nipples into a sore nub – chest arching from the contact. The arm holding you in place slides a hand between your thighs and starts circling your cute button, flicking over it with a gritty fingerprint.

The friction makes your belly bloom all sorts of colors, making you lock and quiver around that big thing he has nestled inside you, throbbing against your womb as he only gently bounces you on his lap – stretching your little pussy out generously as it suckles him so very sweetly – so very wet, drooling on his lap –squeezing him oh-so-snug.

You feel sticky after a while of twisting and refusing. Feeling so full and feverish. Neck wet from tongue and lips – so wet, spit is running slow trails down your chest, cool in the chilly open air of his home office.

You still think you want to stop, but you’re not as tense anymore – resting prettily against his chest. Moaning for each swirl he does over your budding clit – having quaked with pleasure a whole of three times already, gummy walls rippling all along his shaft as you softly loll your hips on him in return.

There’s a pool of your slick between the two of you – having drooled form where it seeps around the tight edges of where he has you stuffed air-tight, running down his balls to gloss the leather seat beneath.

He takes it as a sign that you’re ready for the real thing.

It’s almost unfair – how easily your smaller body is held in his hands. Maneuvered so effortlessly as he lifts your thighs up against your chest, then spreads them wide.

He hooks your knees on his elbows and braids his fingers behind your neck. It's an awkward position, but you’re completely locked in it. Unable to do a thing except wail with moans once he starts pistoning his fat man-cock up inside you.

It’s way worse when he stands up – bouncing you in the air – holding you folded against his chest, your legs dangling over his arms, jumping as he pounds his meat inside you, stuffing your cunt full on every deep thrust – stabbing your poor stomach until you’re screaming and squirting from the pressure.

Feeling you soak him is the last straw – so tight while spraying a hot mess.

He sits down again, lifting you off his cock before fanning your clit with four fingers – making you gush out every last drop, screaming while raining on his cock until you’ve strangled it out one final time – left shaking.

You’re then ushered down to the floor, on your knees – the top of your head leveled with Dr. Nanamis's big hand, keeping your face forward as he faps his sturdy thickness at your mouth.

“Open your mouth wide.” He orders, his teeth grit while his bulbing cockhead kisses your lips.

You listen when he gives your little head a shake – rolling your tongue out while dropping your jaw for him.

“That’s a good girl-” He praises, placing his tip on the wet bed of your soft pink tongue, giving his cock only a few more tugs before his balls clenched hard and sent a big fat load through his cock out into your pretty little open mouth.

He groans heavily, almost angrily, squeezing every spurt out – some coming out so heavy it spills up your face and down your chin – but mostly getting caught where you have your lips parted to receive it.

“Good girl.” He repeats, taking in the sight of your painted face – so cute covered in his cum.

He smiles.

“Now swallow it all down. And don’t waste a single drop. It's rich in vitamins young girls like you need to become proper ladies.”

You don’t want to close your mouth – you want to spit all of it out and rinse the rest with toothpaste and water. But the hand petting your head is so heavy, you don’t dare. So you swallow. Sniffling at the yucky taste once it sits warm in your stomach, still so sticky and gross on your tongue.

But Dr. Nanami seems pleased.

“Moving forward, I think you’ll benefit from closer examination.” He says. “I've made arrangements to have you institutionalized here, where I can keep a closer eye on you and offer more frequent assistance. You still have a long way to go before you’re well, little one. I’m not close to seeing the results I need in order to release you from my care.”

You’re still too shocked by the former events to look confused, but the sick feeling in your gut just keeps growing.

“Don’t worry. We’ll keep training, and soon I’ll have you turned into a proper little cock-pet.”

You want to run, but after what you’re body had just been put through, aching and screaming at you like it was your fault – you knew you wouldn’t be able to do much more than crawl, and something about the still fat cock resting its weight against Dr. Nanamis thigh told you he wasn’t done with you just yet.

“Give my cock some time to rest, and we’ll try it again later.” He confirmed your fears, still with his hand stroking your head like a pet at his feet. “Meanwhile, why don’t you tell me how your sweet pussy liked losing its virginity- and how this little face enjoyed getting its first-ever taste of cock and cum, hm?”

sequel

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imaginaryf1shots · 3 months

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Family at McLaren | Oscar Piastri

WC: 4.7K oops

Oscar Piastri x single mum!reader

Summery: Raising a son while working for McLaren F1 team was never easy but life wasn’t easy on you anyway.

Warning: Teen pregnancy, absent father, absent family

Masterlist

Oscar Masterlist

Life hasn't been the kindest to you, it seemed like you've been struggling for so long before things started to turn to the better. Getting pregnant young wasn't on the agenda, nor was your boyfriend breaking up with you and moving as far away form you as he could, and your parents cutting you off to 'save face' certainly wasn't planned. But in the end you have your son, all the doubts and thoughts about keeping him or giving him away were set in motion, there was no way you'll give him away, he's a part of you and he's yours. You worked hard, keeping your scholarship helped you through your university and then you also had work on the side to support yourself and your son. During university with the help of your life long friends you were able to get through it and your understanding professors were also a big help. All in all with a son under 5 years old you graduated university top of your class and many opportunities for you to work and choose from. So when you got the chance to work for Mclaren F1 team you took the chance without thinking about it.

Studying was one thing, but balancing work and personal life was hard, harder than you thought. But the McLaren team is like a family everyone's very understanding. McLaren continues to be your beacon of hope, a promise for a brighter future.

"Thank you so much for letting me bring him in." You thanked your manager, feeling grateful for her allowing you to bring Tom with you. The daycare was flooded due to some water leakage or a burst pipe of something like that, meaning until they get everything fixed you had no one to watch your son while you're working. So in a panic mode you called your manager and told her what happened, she was very understanding and agreed to let you bring him with you. You worked in an office and weren't with the mechanics so that made it easier for him to stay with you and not hinder your work.

"No worries, I understand how things get some times." She patted your back and smiled at Tom who was shyly hiding behind your leg, he was super shy. Your team knew you had a son and have all admired you for being a young single mother but so far ahead in your carrier already. But it wasn't something that you spread around so when you walked in and saw the looks on everyone's faces you knew that they were

shocked.

Tommy is a carbon copy of you, there's no doubt in anyone's mind when they first see him that he's yours.

"Oh my god, who is that cutie?" Asked one of the women on the media team, she crouched down in front of you to be eye level with Tommy, he held your hand and looked up at you, you gave him a smile and a nod of encouragement.

"Hello." He said and waved before he got shy and hid into your side, you and Sarah giggled, a couple other moved closer to the three of you to watch the interaction, it's not everyday that a child comes into the MTC.

"What's your name, little guy?" Sarah asked trying to prop him into talking and get him out of his Shyness

"I'm not little." He mumbled and peaked out at her, Sarah raised her arms in surrender.

"Sorry, what's your name big guy?"

"My name's Tom, but mummy calls me Tommy." Tom said and you giggled. A few of your colleague interacted with him on your way to your office. Once you were there you gave him a few of his toys to play with, including a toy car that he liked to act as if he raced with, especially since you started working for McLaren, and being surrounded by Formula 1 way more than before. As you settled in work, it was clear that Tom has created a buzz in the office.

It was later when Oscar strolled into the office. It wasn't weird for him to be there, since you're similar in age you had struck up a friendship, and he'd pop in every time he was in the factory, you'd always talk for a while but had no idea about Tom. So when he walked in and saw Tom surprise flickered on his face, it didn't take him long to put two and two together, especially with the murmurs of other people he passed since he arrived.

"Hey there." Oscar said a friendly grin spreading on his face as he squatted down beside Tom who was playing with his Toy car. "Are you a future driver?"

Tom looked up, his shyness having faded a bit since the morning.

"Maybe." He said with a giggle, holding up his toy car for Oscar to see, Oscar then glanced at you as you watched the scene unfold.

"He's got good taste." He ruffled Tom's hair and stood up. "Are you brining him to the track next?"

"Not if I can help it." You replied with a laugh, grateful for Oscar's easy going nature. "Too much people, too many ways to get lost."

"True." Oscar pulled the usual chair to sit next to you, his eyes not leaving Tom's. If Oscar held any respect for you before it just doubled. Oscar sat with you for a while before he had to go away.

By lunchtime Tommy was like a mini celebrity, there was even a few engineers that took turns showing him around. You were over the moon, just seeing him so happy and over his shyness. Lunch time is always hectic, and all it took a few seconds, you looked away from Tom for a few seconds and he was gone. You couldn't see him anywhere. Panic consumed you, and your heart pounded in your chest as

realization hit you, Tommy is lost. You turn around and head back to your office, maybe he went back there for one of his toys.

Dread washed over you when you didn't find him there, the MTC is a big building and he could be anywhere, you asked everyone you passed if they've seen him but no one has. You called his name, and a few others joined you in your search.

Where did he go? Was he hurt? Is he scared? Just the thought of him being alone in this big unfamiliar building scared you immensely. With each passing moment a sense of helplessness threatened to overwhelmed you.

As you ran around, calling for your son, your voice is tinged with desperation, you could feel the stared of your colleagues, their concerned expressions adding to your anxiety. And as they told you words of comfort it just fell onto deaf ears. You were lost in the whirlwind of your panic.

It seemed to you as if you've searched each corner, every hallway, your mind conjuring the worst scenarios. Each empty room you passed seemed to taunt you with its silence. The MTC always felt like it's a place filled with excitement and innovation, now just felt like it's a maze. You stopped by Sarah's disk, your breath coming in short and frantic gasps.

"Have you seen Tommy?" you ask her, your voice trembling.

"No." She shook her head, concern etched across her face. "But we'll find him, he can't have gone far."

Tears prickled your eyes as you continued your search, your voice growing hoarse from calling his name. your ran through corridors, peering into ever nook and cranny, your mind replaying the last moments you saw him, had he wandered into a restricted area? Was he frightened or hurt?

Just as the panic was threatening to consume you, you turned a corner and you saw a familiar figure approaching, relief and disbelief washed over you as you saw Oscar, with Tommy over his shoulders, a broad smile on his face.

”Looking for this big boy?” OScar asked, his eyes twinkling with a smile on his face.

A sob left you in relief, as you rushed over pulling Tommy into your arms.

”Oh my god!” You exclaimed, your voice trembling. “I was so worried.”

Tommy wrapped his arms around your neck, he sensed your distress. “I’m sorry mummy.”

Oscar smiled gently, patting Tommy’s head.

”I saw him wandering around, so I took him to check the simulator room.” He explained. “I think he’s got a knack for finding the coolest sports in the building.”

”Thank you Oscar.” You managed a shaky laugh, the tension slowly ebbing away. “I don’t know hat I would’ve done if-“

”It’s okay.” Oscar interrupted softly. “He’s safe now, let’s just keep a closer eye on him next time.”

You nodded, and as you hugged Tommy a tear left your eye, Oscar’s eyes just softened even more, he whipped it away and gave you a one armed hug with Tommy between the two of you.

“Oh Tommy, I was so scared.” You mumbled to your son after you pulled away from Oscar.

”I’m sorry mummy.” Tommy looked sad, he didn’t mean to scare you.

”It’s alright baby, just don't do it again, you have to always tell me where you are.” You tell him, and he nods, hugging you.

Oscar walks back with you, once you make it to your office, and you send a message to everyone that you found him, the rest of the day goes smoothly, everyone pays more attention to Tommy making sure that he’s alright and within eyesight.

This just renewed and cemented the love and care in the McLaren family.

From the moment OScar saw you at McLaren, he was captivated. You were different from everyone else he’s met, that is remotely close to his age, something he now concludes is because you’re a single mother, juggling a demanding job and raising a young son on your own.

Oscar admired your resilience, you run wavering commitment to both your work and Tommy. And despite the whirlwind that is Formula 1, he’s found his thoughts drifting to you, wondering how you managed to keep everything together with such grace. He often wondered how hard it must’ve been for you, he heard that you’re mostly alone taking care of your son, he pained him to think that you went through so much hardships alone. Your friends were there for you, but they couldn’t have been there all the time.

Oscar also knew you had drawn clear boundaries between the two of you, he’s seen the way you focus on your work and Tom, always putting your son first. He respected that about you, even if it meant keeping his feelings in check. When you brought Tom to the MTC, Oscar knew why you had drawn these lines.

OScar saw the way Tom’s eyes light up when he saw the cars, and when he sat on the sim even if he was too short to do anything yet, his face was beaming with excitement. Oscar enjoyed the moments he spent with Tom, you had brought him with you for a week while the daycare was being fixed up.

Seeing the vulnerability in your eyes when Tom got lost, he saw the fear of a mother who lost her child, and he wanted to be there for you, to support you in any way he could.

And through the week Tommy was at MTC, Oscar had taken it upon himself to spend as much time with Tommy as he could, he’d take him to the simulator room, and show him the cars at the technology centre. He saw first hand how much you meant to your son.

Without even noticing Oscar’s feelings grew stronger with each passing day, but he knew he had to approach his feelings dreadfully. His biggest fear is making you uncomfortable in any way shape or form, or overstepping. So he just focused on building a bond with Tommy, knowing that his actions will speak louder than words. And he couldn’t help but hope that in time you might see hi as more than just a colleague or a young F1 driver. Oscar understand that you’ve been hurt before and that you’re protective of your heart and the heart of your son. But he’s known for being patient, willing to wait and prove himself, to show you that could be a part of your life and Tommy’s in a meaningful way.

One afternoon, as you were wrapping up a meeting, Oscar popped his head into your office.

”Hey, got a minute?” He asked with that familiar, easygoing smile.

“Sure, Oscar.” You looked up from your desk. “What’s up?”

”I was wondering if you and Tommy would like to come to the race this weekend?” Oscar stepped inside, his hands causally tucked into his pockets. “It’s in the country, and it’s a big one, I thought it might be fun for him to see it all in action.”

Your initial reaction was to say no. The thought of bringing Tommy to a race, with the noise, crowds and the chaos, it just seemed overwhelming. but the way Oscar looked at you with genuine enthusiasm and a touch of hope, made you hesitate.

“I don’t know, Oscar.” You said, your concern evident in your voice. “Races can be pretty hectic I’m not sure if it’s a good idea for Tommy/“

Oscar pulled his usual chair to sit next to you.

”I get that, but I’ll make sure you both have a great experience, I’ve arranged for some VIP passes, and you won’t be working, so you’ll have access to the paddock and private viewing area, it’ll be safe and Tommy will get to see the cars in action, I promise it’ll be fun.”

“I’m not sure-“

”If you feel at any point that it’s overwhelming;ming you can escape to my room and stay there until the end.” Your resolve was wavering as you thought about how excited Tommy will be.

”Well, okay, alright.” You agreed but your voice was still tinged with uncertainty.

“Great!” Oscar’s smile widened. “I’ll make sure everything is set up for you, trust me, you’re going to love it.”

The day of the race arrived, and you found yourself with Tommy at the circuit. your nerves are a mix of excitement and apprehension. The roar of the engines, the buzz of the crowd, it was a world you had seen inside at McLaren but never experienced firsthand like this. Tommy is practically bouncing with excitement, the pass around his neck is like a golden ticket.

You were only there for the race day, and when you met Oscar by the Mclaren motorhome there was still a couple of hours until the start of the race.

”Hey, future race car driver.” Oscar said ruffling Tom’s hair. “Ready to see some action?”

Tommy nodded eagerly, his eyes wide with wonder. “Yes! Can I sit in your car?”

”We’ll see what we can do.” Oscar laughed, a warm and infectious sound. “Come on, let’s get you both set up.”

Oscar led you through the motorhome, you greeted your colleagues that you worked with and smiled. Tom was holding Oscar’s hand as he showed him around. Your son was mesmerised.

”Can I see that one up close?” Tom pulled on Oscar’s sleeve to gain his attention. Oscar glanced at you for approval, and you nodded, smiling at Tom’s enthusiasm.

”Of course, let’s get you a closer look.” You stood at the back of the garage, as Oscar took Tom to his car. One of the media members asked if they could film Tom and you agreed, he was dressed in a mini McLaren kit that he got as a gift from one of your friends for his birthday.

Oscar pulls Tom up and puts him in the cockpit, Tommy giggled, his laughter gaining the attention of the mechanics. One got the wheel and gave it to Oscar to put it in place. Tommy instantly leaned forwards to be able to hold it, but he couldn’t see over the cockpit anyways. The wheel was too heavy for him to move, but he was having the time of his life. Oscar glanced at you and he couldn’t help but feel proud seeing how happy you looked.

It warmed your heart seeing how happy Tom looked, and seeing how Oscar is with him made you feel some type of way. Tommy looked up so much to Oscar, since he met him at the MTC Oscar has been his idol, he’s always asking for him, and video calls have began to be a thing now.

”Mummy, look at me!” Tommy called for you, you walked a little closer and smiled at your son.

”You look like a racer, baby.” You tell him and he grins. “Oscar better watch out.”

”Oh I will, who knows, maybe he’ll come for my seat.”

After Tom had his fun in the car you get to the hospitality on top of the McLaren garage, your seat has a view over the pit lane. One of your coworkers comes and keeps you company for a while before she has to rush back to work.

During a break in the action, Oscar joined you with a wide smile on his face. He saw the hat you now supported with his number on it, custody of someone from his team.

“Having fun?” He asked, leaning in close so you could hear him over the noise.

Tom nodded vigorously, turning to you with a beaming smile. “This is the best day ever mummy!”

You chuckle, your heart swelling with happiness at seeing Tommy so thrilled.

”Thank you, Oscar.” You said meeting his eyes. “This means a lot to him.”

”I’m glad you’re both here.” Oscar’s expression softened, his eyes holding warmth that made your heart flutter, he said softly.. “I’d love for you to come to more races, if you’re interested.”

The sincerity in his voice, the way he looked at you and at Tommy, made you realise how much he genuinely cared. It wasn’t;t just about impressing you or having fun; it was about building a connection, creating moments that mattered.

”We’ll have to see about that.” You replied, a small smile on your lips. The idea of letting Oscar into your lives was still daunting, but seeing how happy he made Tom, how happy he made you feel, was starting to shift your perspective.

After the race, you were told that Oscar asked for you to wait for him. Since Tommy was crashing from the activities of the day, you went to Oscar’s drivers room, which he showed to you for an instant like this earlier in the day. Once you settled on the sofa/bed, Tommy was out in an instant. You were on your phone when Oscar came in, he was a little surprised but pleased to see you in his room.

He had showered and was dressed to go home, he leaned on the wall across from you, his eyes not leaving yours.

”Go on a date with me, just dinner, the two of us.” Oscar’s voice was low, but you heard him loud and clear. Your heart skipped a beat at his request.

”OScar, I really appreciate the offer, but my focus is Tom, I’m not sure dating is a good idea right now.” You replied, your voice tinged with uncertainty. Despite how Tom couldn’t stop talking about everything that happened today, relaying everything that happened in an enthusiastic way that only children could do it in. You found yourself smiling at his words, feeling a warmth you hadn’t expected. You can no longer ignore the impact Oscar is having on Tom. Their bond had grown stronger, and it was ever clear to everyone that Tom adored him, but it wasn’t just Tom. You couldn’t deny the way Oscar made you feel, the way he looked at you with genuine care and interest, the way he treated Tom with kindness and respect.

You had always been wary of letting someone into your life, afraid of the disruption it might cause for Tom and the vulnerability it required. But seeing Oscar with Tommy, witnessing his patience, his kindness, and the genuine joy he brought to your son, made you reconsider your stance.

You had spent so long building walls around your heart, protecting Tom and yourself from potential hurt. But those walls had also kept out the possibility of new happiness. And Oscar, with his easy smile and genuine care, was chipping away at those barriers in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"I understand, really.” Oscar said after a pause of silence. “But I feel like we have something special, and I’d love to see where it could go, I care about you and Tom and I’m will to go at whatever pace you;re comfortable with.”

His words resonated with you, touching a part of you that longed for connection and support. You knew how important it was to be cautious, but you also couldn’t ignore the possibility of finding happiness with someone who genuinely cared for both you and Tom. And seeing Oscar right now he looked vulnerable and genuine.

You took a deep breath, your mind made up. "Okay, Oscar. Let’s give it a try, I’d like to go out with you," you said, your voice firm yet hopeful. "But I want to take things slow. I need to be sure it’s right for Tommy and me."

You could see the relief on his face, it made you smile. “Of course, we’ll take it as slow as you need, I’m just happy you’re giving us a chance.”

The night of your first date arrived, and you felt a mix of nervousness and excitement. You had chosen a cosy, intimate restaurant, nothing too flashy, just a place where you could talk and enjoy each other’s company. As you got ready, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation, wondering what the evening would lead to.

Oscar arrived right on time, looking effortlessly handsome and a bit nervous himself. He greeted you with a smile that melted away your apprehensions. "You look beautiful." He said softly, his eyes reflecting genuine admiration.

"Thank you." You replied, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "You look great too."

The dinner was perfect, filled with laughter, conversation, and a deepening connection. Oscar was everything you had hoped for, kind, attentive, and genuinely interested in you and your life. He listened to your stories, shared his own experiences, and made you feel seen and appreciated in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

By the end of the night, as he walked you to your door, you realised just how much you had enjoyed his company. It wasn’t just about having a romantic interest; it was about finding someone who respects your boundaries, who cares about your happiness, and who is willing to be a part of your and Tom’s life.

Before saying goodnight, Oscar took your hand gently, his eyes searching yours.

"I had a really great time tonight." he said, his voice sincere. "I hope we can do this again."

You smiled, a sense of contentment settling over you. "I did too, Oscar. I think I’d like that."

As you closed the door behind him, you felt a sense of hope and possibility bloom within you. For the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to imagine a future where you weren’t alone, where Tom had a positive male role model, and where you had someone to share the ups and downs of life with.

Months passed since you decided to give Oscar a chance and go on a date. Life began to change for the better, in unexpected ways. Oscar became a constant and important part in your and Tom’s world. He seamlessly integrated himself in your routines and lives. He showed up for dinners, outings, even a couple School events, and the quiet everyday moments that truly mattered. He wasn’t a visitor in your lives, he’s becoming a part of the family.

Oscar’s patience and kindness never wavered. He was there for Tom’s ups and downs, helping with homework, playing games, and simply being present. You saw the way Tom’s face lit up when Oscar was around, how he looked forward to their time together, and how he had started to look up to Oscar as a father figure. You were scared at the beginning that with the tantrums and fights you have every now and then with Tom, Oscar would bolt but he stood there and supported you with them.

One day, you found yourself at a part, watching Oscar and Tom play a game of football. Tom’s laughter filled the air and his joy infectious as he ran after the ball, his short legs moving with determination. Oscar let Tom score, cheering him on with genuine enthusiasm.

As you watched them together, a deep sense of contentment washed over you. It was in these simple moments that you realised how much your life had changed for the better. Oscar had not only brought joy to Tom’s life but had also reignited a spark of happiness and hope in your own heart, a hope that you thought you wouldn't have anymore.

Reflecting on your journey, you thought about the fear and apprehension you had felt when Oscar first showed interest in you. You had been so protective of Tom and cautious about letting someone new into your lives. But Oscar had proved himself time and again, showing you that it was possible to find love and support without compromising your responsibilities as a mother.

Oscar was different. He understood your fears and respected your boundaries. He was patient and gentle, gradually earning your trust and showing you that it was okay to open your heart again. He wasn’t just there for the good times; he was committed to being there through the challenges, too.

As Tom came running over, his face flushed with excitement, he jumped into your arms, babbling about the game. Oscar followed, a warm smile on his face.

“You have a future football star here.” He said, ruffling Tom’s hair affectionately.

You laughed, hugging Tom close.

”He’s got a great coach.” You replied, meeting Oscar’s eyes with gratitude.

Oscar’s gaze softened, and he reached out to take your hand, his touch gentle and reassuring. “I’m just glad to be here.” He said quietly, his eyes reflecting the depth of his feelings.

In that moment, you felt a surge of emotion, a realisation of how much Oscar had come to mean to you and Tom. He had become a constant presence, a source of support and love that you hadn’t dared to hope for. The walls you had built around your heart had crumbled, replaced by a newfound sense of security and happiness.

As you walked home together, Tom chattering excitedly between you, you knew that you had made the right decision. Oscar wasn’t just a boyfriend or a new figure in your life; he was a partner, a confidant, and a loving presence for Tom. He was the family you had hoped for but never thought you could have.

And from that day on, Oscar continued to be a steadfast presence in your life. He was there for the celebrations and the struggles, always with a smile and a helping hand. He became a father figure to Tom, guiding him with patience and love, and a partner to you, sharing in the joys and challenges of everyday life.

Looking back on the journey, you felt a profound sense of gratitude. You had opened your heart to love and, in doing so, found a partner who was committed to building a future with you and Tom. Oscar had not only filled a void in your life but had also enriched it in ways you had never imagined possible.

The second best decision you took, after deciding to keep Tom, is giving Oscar a chance.

Maintaglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03

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amiableness · 3 months

Text

Tulips BONUS

THIS IS A BONUS CHAPTER TO TULIPS 🤍

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sirius and reader forget to lock the door, and Remus walks in on them having sex.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: SMUT! Rem walks in on Sirius and Reader, oral (fem receiving), p in v, and a smidge of possessiveness and jealousy.

A/N 💌 This has taken me so long and I apologize! I would also like to say that smut is not my strong suit, so I sincerely apologize is this sucks. Also thank you to @moonlightspencie for all the ideas! Love you all!

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

If you had been in your right mind, you would have felt guilty. It wasn’t like you to make plans and ditch them without any notice. You could almost hear Remus’s disappointed sigh, and you knew that once you snapped out of your daze, the guilt would hit hard. But in this moment, with Sirius's lips gently nipping at your neck and his soft kisses soothing away the sting, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. The warmth of his breath against your skin and the tender way he murmured your name made it impossible to think of anything else. The world outside of his dorm simply didn’t exist.

The sheets of his bed are strewed about, and the coolness to them is long gone. He’s propped up beside you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. It had only been a few months since the two of you had gotten together, and his hazy effect on you had yet to fade. All he had to do was smile at you; you were putty in his hands. Sirius’s hands traced lazy patterns on your back, each touch sending shivers of pleasure through you.

You reassured yourself that you and Remus could always reschedule the study session for another night.

“S’pretty, angel.” Sirius murmurs softly as he pulls back, his breath warm against your skin. He drags his thumb slowly along your jawline, his touch gentle yet possessive. He watches the way your chest rises and falls, your breathing ragged and uneven. A smug smile tugs at the corners of his lips, knowing that he’s hardly done anything and yet, you’re already so worked up. The intensity of your reaction to his slightest touch fuels his confidence, making him want to tease you even more.

"Sirius," You whisper, your voice coming out much needier than you intended. The vulnerability in your tone is impossible to hide, but Sirius eats it up, his eyes darkening with desire. He revels in the effect he has on you, his smile widening as he leans in closer, the air between you charged with unspoken longing. “Touch me. Please.”

"I am touching you." He responds, his voice low and teasing. His hand trails down your body, fingers grazing your skin before pinching lightly at the outer flesh of your thigh, sending a jolt of sensation through you.

Your lips part in a gasp, and you quickly purse them, trying to regain control over your reaction. “You know what I mean.”

“I wanna hear you say it.” He grins and for a second, you feel too shy to tell him what you need. But Sirius gazes at you with such intense love and desire that it leaves you breathless and lessens the sting of embarrassment.

“I want you to finger me.” Your cheeks heat furiously, a an apprehensive look spreading across your face. Your fingers absentmindedly fiddle with the buttons on Sirius's shirt, the small task a futile attempt to steady your racing heart. The smooth fabric and cool buttons provide a comforting distraction. It wasn’t like he hadn’t touched you before. He definitely had, but summoning the confidence to ask for something like that was difficult for you still.

“That’s my girl.” Sirius praises, leaning forward to place a sweet kiss against your lips, as if to reward you for asking for what you wanted.

When his lips met yours, it wasn’t rough or fast—it was gentle and soft, as if he wanted to take all the time in the world with you. He brushed his lips against yours with exquisite tenderness, his hands slipping into your hair and tangling in the strands, relishing the feeling of you pressed against him. His kisses were tender and unhurried, each one sending waves of warmth through you, making you melt into him completely. The sensation of his lips moving slowly against yours was intoxicating, drawing you deeper into the moment.

He shifted, his body covering yours, as he pressed soft kisses to your lips and then down to your neck, each touch filled with a tenderness that made your heart swell. You could feel his love and care in every movement.

He brushed his lips against yours, mumbling about how much he loved kissing you, making you smile against his lips. His hands trailed over your body, barely touching your skin but enough to leave goosebumps in their wake. When he reached your hips, he gave a gentle squeeze, eliciting a soft gasp from you. Sitting up, he used one arm to bring you up with him, his strength both comforting and exhilarating. He shifted so you were now sat in his lap, your thighs bracketing his.

You couldn't fathom how you had gone so long without kissing Sirius; now that he was yours, you never wanted it to stop. His hands trailed along your thighs, squeezing and massaging the flesh every so often, sending shivers through you. The way he touched you was both playful and reverent, making you feel cherished and desired in a way you had never experienced before.

"Sirius." You sighed softly, the sound carrying a mixture of affection and longing. You pulled back just enough to rest your forehead against his, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. His hands gently cradled your face, his touch tender and reassuring, as if he wanted to memorize every contour..

"Yeah, angel?" He asked softly, his voice filled with tenderness and a touch of eagerness. His eyes bore into yours, brimming with love and a hint of mischief, ready to give you anything you asked for.

“I need more.”

“Arms up, baby.” He told you as he pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it to the ground. Watching his eyes raking up and down your body made you dizzy. You let his eyes take in your body before tugging at the hem of his shirt, silently telling him that you wanted it off. Your chance to admire him, drag your fingertips over the dips and ridges of him, and listen to the way his breath hitched in his throat.

After years of pining after you, he could still hardly believe that he had his dream girl sitting on top of him and looking at him with so much love and desire. What did he ever do to deserve this? To deserve you?

“You’re fucking beautiful.” He mumbles as he slips his fingers under your white bra straps, letting them fall down your shoulders. His eyes tracked the movement, and you smiled softly at the way he watched you with so much admiration.

"Thank you. You're pretty beautiful too." You tease softly, circling your arms around his neck. Sirius responds with a devastating smile, his eyes sparkling with mischief and affection. You're so close that your noses nearly touch, the intimate proximity making your heart race. He places a quick, playful kiss on your nose, and the giggle you let out is pathetically lovesick.

"Damn right." He mumbles with a playful smirk, making you laugh.

You are about to reach around your back to rid yourself of your bra when Sirius stops you. Shooting you a cocky grin, he pushes your hands away from your bra to do it himself. The second your bra falls, Sirius lets out a curse. It has been months since you two first slept together, but every time he sees your body, it’s like the first time.

He swears that your tits are the most beautiful he’s ever seen. If he didn’t already know he was in love with you, that would be his clue.

His mouth closed around your nipple, biting gently, ripping a gasp from your throat. Your back arched into his chest to give him better access. His arm wraps around your waist to haul you closer to him. Beneath you, you could feel how quickly this was turning him on. His hair was wild from when you had your fingers running through his hair. Soft sighs were filling the room as he licked and sucked, alternating between both of your tits. The wetness between your legs was growing more apparent as he touched you.

He grabbed your waist and moved you off of his lap, pushing you down so that you were laid out underneath him. His hands slipped under the waistband of your skirt, tugging it down, bringing your underwear with them. Your first reaction was to close your legs, still shy at the idea of him seeing you like this. But he gently placed his hands on your knees and pushed them apart, whispering soft praises to you as he did so.

You sat up as he stood at the end of his bed, slipping his pants down. Wetness pooled between your thighs as his cock was released from his underwear. You weren’t sure you would ever get used to seeing him like this. A quick kiss was placed on your lips before his fingers brushed against your collarbone, pushing you back on the bed. With your back against the pillows and your legs spread, he finally got to look at all of you. All bare and glistening, and he swore he had never been harder in his life. He glanced up at you, asking for permission, and you nodded. Pressing kisses from your ankles to between your thighs, he slowly made his way to where you wanted him most.

“S’wet for me, love.” You could only answer with a whimper as trailed his fingers over your clit, causing you to sigh in pleasure. He was gentle, carefully watching your reaction as he teased you.

He moved slowly as he began to circle your clit, taking his time to warm you up. His eyes flickered back to you, drinking in the sight of your head pressed back against the pillows, your eyes closed, and soft sighs falling from your lips. The gentle rise and fall of your chest and the way your body responded to his touch filled him with a mix of tenderness and desire.

Watching you laid out in his sheets, withering in pleasure, all because of him? It caused heat to build in his stomach as he considered the idea of this being his forever. He could spend the rest of his life worshipping you like this, and he hoped to Godric you would let him.

The moan you let out was pornographic when he replaced his fingers with his mouth, letting his tongue slide along your pussy. From the bottom to the top, he licked through your folds. You could feel yourself dripping down onto the sheets, but you knew he wouldn’t care about the mess you were making.

You knew there was no way you would last long. Between the way his fingers pumped in and out of you so deliciously and the way he sucked and licked at your clit so gently was driving you crazy. With your back arched and your head tossed back into his pillows, you whimpered out a plea for him to stop.

Sirius had pulled away from you instantly, worry etched across his features. The last thing he wanted was to do something that made you uncomfortable.“What’s wrong, angel?”

“Fuck. Nothing’s wrong,” You had to clear your throat in order to get the words out. “I just-” Sirius thumbed at your hip to comfort you, watching as you shifted so you were holding yourself up by your elbows and looking down at him.

“Can you fuck me?” Your voice trembled softly, your eyes flickering nervously between his. Sirius wanted to cry. Could you get any more perfect?

He didn’t trust his voice, so he said nothing, just leaned down to kiss your stomach before reaching beside the bed. He dug around in his drawer before grabbing a condom and ripping at the foil packet with his teeth. You sent him a soft smile, watching as he rolled the condom over his length and situated himself so he was between your legs.

Once settled, Sirius tenderly brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear and leaned in, resting his forehead against yours.

"Y’okay?" He asked, his voice laced with concern as he searched your eyes. You offered him a reassuring smile, feeling his warmth and care in the way he looked at you.

His hands wrapped securely around your ankles, the warmth of his touch pulling you closer across the soft, rumpled sheets. Laughter bubbled from you uncontrollably as he leaned in, planting a trail of tender kisses across your cheeks and forehead. The sound of your giggles subsided, replaced by a moment of quiet intensity as he leaned back, his gaze locking onto yours with a mixture of affection and desire. Your heart raced at the way he looked at you, and without hesitation, you reached up, threading your fingers through his hair, gently guiding his face back down to meet yours in a lingering kiss.

The kiss quickly deepened into an intense exchange, each of you vying for control. Sirius’s hand brushed against the side of your body, trailing down to reach between your legs while the other held himself above you. Your lips parted into a gasp when he brushed against your clit, and he took the opportunity to kiss you harder.

There was no way you could attempt to lead the kiss with Sirius brushing circles over your clit. You could hardly even think really. How could you when it was Sirius that was between your legs?

He pulled away to sit up, gently repositioning you until you were situated at the edge of the bed. His palms circled your ankles, pushing back on your legs until you were bent in half for him. Pussy fully on displayed for him. A satisfied hum emanated from his throat as he brought his fingers back to slide through your wetness.

And it wasn’t long before his cock replaced his fingers, teasing your clit before sliding the tip inside you.

At the feeling, both of you let out satisfied moans. Sirius quickly grabbed your hands and intertwined your fingers before fully pushing inside of you slowly. “Godric,” He was nearly gone. “So fucking perfect.” All you could do was moan in response.

His thrusts began slow, sliding in and out of you at an agonizing pace, making you cry out at him to go faster. He didn’t listen.

“You look so pretty getting fucked,” He reached his right hand down, using his thumb to rub against your clit in the slowest circles. “You’re doing such a good job, sweetheart.”

If you hadn’t been so fucked out, you would’ve been embarrassed at hearing how wet you were. Your cries were desperate, pathetic. And if you were more coherent, you might have admitted that you weren't doing anything at all—it was all him. But you couldn't find it in you to complain.

“Faster. I need you to go faster.” You voice was as desperate as you felt.

“I’m being romantic. Fucking you nice and slow.” Sirius grins at the unimpressed look you send him.

“Fuck me harder. Romantically.”

Sirius laughs, but obliges you. Dragging his cock through your cunt just a little bit faster, a little bit rougher. If your reaction is any indication, the change in pace is perfect for you.

He watches, mesmerized as your tits bounced with the pace he was setting and the way your head was thrown to the side, eyes closed, and lips parted for your desperate moans to slip through.

His left hand traced the curve of your side, pausing to squeeze your side, traveling further down until he gripped your hip. It didn’t take long for the view of you fucked out and desperate underneath him for him to lose his patience. There was only so much he could take of watching your pussy take him him so well before he decided this pace wasn’t nearly enough.

When he slipped out of you, you desperately cried in protest. But with a light slap on your outer thigh, he encouraged you to flip over. You relaxed into the sheets, content to burry your cheek against his crumbled comforter. Sirius seemed just as content as he drags him fingers down your spine, both his palms coming up to massage and knead at your ass. Your skin prickled with goosebumps as he placed as kiss on your lower back, right at the swell of your ass.

Impatient, you wiggled your hips, “Sirius, please.”

“Just admiring my view, angel.”

“I need-” Your words die on your tongue as you feel his cock push past your folds, entering your without any resistance. He doesn’t hold back this time, eager to set a more brutal pace. The sounds filling the room are obscene, and he realizes that this is the first time you two are having sex where it isn’t considered making love. But he can safely admit that he loves all versions of sex with you equally.

Lifting yourself up so your back was pressed against him and your neck was exposed so he could press kisses against you. His arms slid around your waist, his right hand going up to grab at your tits as he nipped at your neck. Your legs felt shaky as he held you up and against him. The moans that filled your ears being this close to him drove you crazy. You didn’t think you would ever get used to hearing him like this. So fucked out and close to coming.

“Love, please go harder.”

“You want me to fuck you harder, baby?” You babbled incoherently in response, making Sirius grin.

“Beg me, sweetheart.”

“Fuck, Sirius! Please, I need more of your cock. I want you to take me, be rough with me.”

He pushed you forward, forcing you back on all fours. You let out a loud ‘fuck’ when he shoved his cock back into you, not sure how long you could hold yourself up. His hands gripped your hips tightly, keeping you in place, and he slid his cock in and out of you, the room filling with both of your moans.

“Is that what you wanted, baby? Wanted to be fucked harder?”

As he quickened his pace, you stuck your ass in the air and pressed your cheek against the bed, raising your arms above your head as he fucked you. Your fingers were tangled in the sheets, and you knew anyone walking by could probably hear you. Out of all the times you had been with a guy, you didn’t think you had ever been this loud. Each time he thrust into you, you let out a high-pitched moan, unable to stop yourself.

So focused on the feeling of Sirius fucking you within an inch of your life you don’t notice the door open. With your cheek buried in the sheets, you didn't hear anything, nor did you see Remus standing there, his features displaying a mixture of shock and jealousy. But Sirius did. For a moment, he faltered, eyes locking with Remus's in silent astonishment. Then your protests filled the room, snapping his attention back to you.

“I want you to cum in me, baby. Please.” Your voice was wrecked, the strain evident in every word, and Sirius’s eyes widened in surprise at your unexpected request. It was a shift he hadn't anticipated. He glanced up, catching Remus's intense glare, his expression a mix of disbelief and anger, before Remus abruptly turned on his heel and slammed the door shut behind him. The suddenness of Remus's exit left Sirius momentarily bewildered.

How had you not noticed? Were you that fucked out for him?

Remus had stood there no less than ten seconds. And maybe it was because there was no way he had seen you. Not with the way you were angled and how Sirius had you pressed into the sheets.

But a sense of smug satisfaction began to creep over him—tinged with possessiveness. Maybe Remus would back the fuck off now that he saw how desperate you were for his cock. How wrecked and desperate you were, eager to be filled with his cum. And while he couldn’t because he was wearing a condom—Remus didn’t know that. The next time he saw you, he knew Remus would only be able to think about how fucked out you were for a guy that wasn’t him.

He knew he would have to tell you what happened, but right now, with you begging so sweetly for him. He couldn’t resist.

He fucked you rough. Eager to hear your whimpers and cries as he buried himself deep inside of you, pushing you further and further toward the edge. Maybe it was fucked up; how he was turned on by the idea of Remus knowing that you got so desperate for him.

But he couldn’t help it. You were his. And he liked the idea of everyone knowing that. Especially Remus, who was still very much in love with you.

“Sirius, I’m getting close,” You whined, your voice shaky as he pounded into you. “Gonna cum!”

“Shit. Cum on my cock, sweetheart.” You knew you could let go, he sounded like he wasn’t far behind you. You could tell by his quickened pace and sloppy thrusts.

When you felt him grab your hips hard and pound into you a few more times, you knew you could let go with him.

“Sirius! Yes, I-”

“I know, fuck. I’m gonna cum.” At that admission, your back arches as you feel your pussy squeeze around him. The moans leaving you were beyond loud, and you hoped to Godric no one had heard you.

“Fuck.” He grunted as he thrust one final time into you before squeezing your hips tightly. The feeling of him twitching inside you sent you over the edge. You let go, pleasure coursing through you as you felt your whole body shake as the feeling shot through your entire body.

“Jesus, baby.” Sirius mumbled as his head dropped to your back. You let out a giggle, understanding how fucked out he was feeling.

He slowly slid out, falling onto the bed next to you. You let your hips drop, moving so that you were on your side facing him. You were both breathing hard and knew you would need a shower and clean sheets after this.

"I love you. So much." You tell him earnestly, your voice brimming with sincerity. Sirius smiles softly at you, his heart squeezing at the sight of your messy hair and flushed cheeks. He reaches out, gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering.

"I love you too, angel." He murmurs, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

Now, he just had to break the news about Remus.

#sirius black x reader #sirius black smut #sirius black imagine #sirius black au #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black fanfiction

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yandere-daydreams · 1 year

Text

Title: Coveted.

Pairing: Yandere!Geto x Reader (+Yandere!Gojo) [JJK].

Word Count: 1.1k.

TW: Set Two or Three Years Post KFC Break-Up, Intimidation, Prolonged Stalking, Future Dub/Con, Mentions of Non/Con, and Unbalanced Power Dynamics.

[Part Two]

“You’re Satoru’s date, right?”

The voice was masculine, deep and as rough as it could be without crossing the line into gravelly. You stiffened, squaring your shoulders and burrowing your nails into your palm as your eyes darted across the table – where a man with dark hair and an off-putting smile was currently sliding into the unoccupied side of your booth. He reached out, clearly planning to shake your hand, but when you failed to move, he only let out an airy chuckle, propping his chin on his fist as he went on. “I’m a friend of his – Geto Suguru. You can call me Suguru-chan, though. Has he already told you about me?”

He was dressed like he’d just rolled out of bed – his attire limited to a form-fitting black shirt and a pair of loose sweatpants in the same color, his hair pulled into a loose bun. His tone was friendly, light. You returned it with a dead-pan stare, hoping it conveyed the weight of your exhaustion. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Is that what he told you to say?” Another laugh, somehow more blood-chilling than the first. Your attention shifted outward, to the late-night diner where Gojo had asked you to meet him. There were only a few other customers, the skeleton of a proper staff, but single other person would’ve been one too many. You didn’t need to make a scene, not again, not after last time. “That sounds like him. He’s always been a stingy bastard.”

With a pressed frown, you pushed yourself to your feet, but Geto’s grin only broadened. He snapped his fingers and as if it’d only been waiting for a queue, a shape manifested at the end of your bench. You couldn’t bring yourself to look directly at it, but you saw enough out of the corner of your eye; a bulbous torso, shrunken arms, too many eyes to resemble any living thing. Instantly, what little courage you still had was replaced with a knot of dread, a bolt of pure anxiety. You half-expected it to lunge, to bite, to attack, but it didn’t move, only standing guard at the foot of your table.

It didn’t move, but it didn’t have to. In a moment, you’d fallen back into your seat and shoved yourself against the wall, fighting not to shake. It was a sight Geto seemed to take a particular joy in, letting his head lull to the side as he watched you curl into yourself. “You can see them. I was starting to think I had the wrong person.” A pause, a glance towards his summoned monster before his narrowed gaze skirted back to you. “Don’t be shy, now. How much did he tell you?”

It took you a moment to find your tongue, another to swallow back the tremor in your voice. "He said he could protect me.” It was harder to admit than you’d expected – not so much that you needed protection, but that there was something you needed protection from. You’d spent so long writing off your monsters as hallucinations that it was still a struggle to act like they were anything more. But, for as unwilling as you were to confront your little monsters, the resounding ache in your right leg where that thing had dug its claws into you was impossible to ignore. “He… he didn’t mention anyone else, but we’ve only spoken once. He was supposed to explain—” You gestured to the monster. “—all of this today.”

A slight hum, a look of genuine surprise. “So, he’s got some self-restraint after all! I thought he would’ve cracked months ago, considering how long he’s been following you around like a lost puppy.” He must’ve seen your expression fall, your posture slacken, because he didn’t wait for a response before going on. “I mean, you must’ve known that, at least. Did you think he’d play knight-in-shining-armor for just anyone?”

“I…” You trailed off quickly, shaking your head. “I don’t care. As long as he can protect me, I don’t care why he’s doing it.”

“That’s a dangerous thing to say. You wouldn’t want to make Satoru feel so replaceable, now, would you?”

At that, you met his stare. “What do you want?”

His eyes skirted towards the monster, who took an obedient step back. For a second, you considered running, trying to slip away before the man in front of you or your newly-realized stalker could make you regret ever showing up at all, but Geto was quick to cut off your escape route, filling the empty space beside you before you could so much as pick which door you would barrel through on the way out. “Well, now that we’re on the same page,” Unlike his monster, he didn’t give you the option of leaving him in your peripheral; settling close enough for his leg to press into yours. At this proximity, you could pick up the smoke on his breath, the scent of stale gore clinging to him like a second skin. As if he’d just stepped out of a blood bath. “I’d like to make you an alternative offer.”

“You’d protect me?”

“Oh, I’d do more than just that.” His hand fell to your thigh. “I’d have everything you’ve ever been afraid of bowing to you by the end of the night.”

You swallowed dryly. “You didn’t answer my first question. What do you get out of helping me?”

His answer was nonverbal, but clear enough. With that same idle grin, he nodded toward the streaked window, to the building across the street. Your heart fell into your stomach. It was one of those sleazy, by-the-hour hotels – the sign missing more than a few letters and the parking lot as empty as the diner. It was the kind of place that you only went to for one thing, and you had a feeling Geto hadn’t found some miraculous second reason to want to be alone with you in one of those bug-infested rooms.

You weren’t sure why you said it. Maybe to buy yourself time. Maybe because you couldn’t stand the idea of being left in silence as what was left of your rational mind screamed at you to get out of there. “I don’t have any money.”

“It’ll be my treat.”

“What happens I refuse?”

“I kill everyone here,” His nails bit into exposed skin. “And then fuck you on this table while their bodies attract flies.”

You might’ve cried, if you hadn’t been so tired.

You might’ve done anything, if you could bring yourself to care about anything but keeping those awful creatures at a distance.

Stiffly, with your eyes shut and your teeth grit, you forced yourself to nod. Geto rewarded you with an impossibly wide grin, a breath of a laugh. “Smart little thing.”

This time, he didn’t pretend it was an option; reaching out, taking your trembling hand in his own, and squeezing so softly, you could almost convince yourself he was being gentle.

“It’s only a shame Satoru isn’t here to join us.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jjk imagines #yandere jjk #yandere geto #yandere geto suguru #geto x reader #gojo x reader #yandere gojo #yandere gojo satoru #yanderecore #yancore

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robinsfilm · 11 days

Text

TANGLED IN RED

pairing: jason todd ✗ gn!reader.

synopsis: you wrap yourself up in jason's red jacket, and he finds it endearing.

warnings: fluff, rushed writing, proofread like only once (⁠+⁠_⁠+⁠)

word count: 0.8k.

notes: i wrote this post-surgery recovery so i get a pass on any mistakes thank you :⁠-⁠P cross posted on my AO3.

♯ MASTERLIST ; NAVIGATION

In the tangled web of a relationship, the couple shows and tells their affections in all kinds of different ways. Sometimes, it's the soft, but sickly sweet way their touch lingers on one's skin. Sometimes, it's the saccharine taste that is left in one's mouth after a shared kiss.

Sometimes, it's as simple as a piece of one's clothing on their partner.

It's something Jason never gave a single thought to. Until you showed up. With your honeyed gaze and sunshine grin. The thought of you in clothes that belonged to him lit a fire on his skin. In every crevice thoughts of you reside. Thoughts of you wrapped in his signature color, red.

Unfortunately, he hasn't had the luck to see you hugged by that ruby-red. Not even a sweater in cold weather, not even a t-shirt on lazy days when both of you stay at home, tangled in one another.

Even now, as the merigold rays of the sun peek through the vanilla curtains, hitting the cloud-like softness of your shared bed, he stares at you getting dressed.

It's the everyday domestic tenderness he takes comfort in. Your brows furrowed, focused as you sifted through different pieces of clothing that lay messy around the room. His own red leather jacket barely covers his frame.

“Maybe something more light,” you murmur, turning on your heel to show him the two blouses hanging from your hands. “What do you think?”

In his mind, you could wear either of them; you'd still look flawless. He could say that, but he knows you need an answer.

“Ditch them both,” he answers as he props himself in the palm of his hand, “that's my expert opinion.”

A mix of shock and embarrassment floods your flushed face. “You'd have me ditch the pants too, wouldn't you?”

“You really want me to answer that?”

“Nevermind,” you click your tongue as you finally choose the rosy-colored blouse, bringing it close to your torso.

Not yet close enough.

He moves closer, wrapping his around you. You melt into his hold, but panic as he leaves pecks at the corner of your lips. You can't help but give him a dopey grin.

“Jason, c’mon,” you giggle, trying to break free from his grasp, “you'll smudge the lipstick!”

He settles you in his arms as his head lays on your shoulder, holding your gaze. It doesn't seem like he plans on letting you go soon.

You shuffle again, hand reaching for the peach-colored lipstick. A glint of light reflecting from the lampshade twinkles in your eyes. A sight he can't seem to tear his gaze away from.

The outfit you chose lays undisturbed on the bed. The light rosy-colored silky fabric contrasts with the milky white of the sheets.

You had picked your outfit for the night after many hours of contemplating, and glares sent his way after another failed try of voicing his opinion about your outfit of choice.

Much to his dismay, you don't plan on going out with him naked on the date you both planned for weeks.

“I’m still sticking with my suggestion,” he shifts to lay on the bed, mindful of the silky fabric of your clothing.

You huff, cheeks flushing a deep red, a look he enjoys and basks in seeing.

A little closer.

*****

Maybe it's the way you cling onto him for warmth, or maybe how your hands dig into his pockets, searching for his hands, but he doesn't even feel a tinge of the rainy and cold Gotham weather. The single touch of your hands on his has him hungry and starving for more.

Instead, he focuses his attention on you, and your frustrated tries to keep warm. The cold air hits his face, but he doesn't feel it, the warmth rushing to his cheeks, protecting him.

Walking down the road, lit with neon signs and a few lampposts, you two finally reach the destination of your long-awaited date.

Moving into the small, but cozy café, both of you take your seats. He leaves his jacket hanging from his seat. The scarlet-colored leather looks out of place at such a place. Jason gives you a quick peck on the cheek, moving to take your orders.

Coming back, he spots that his jacket is gone, not left on the seat but wrapped around your shoulders.

Your shoulders. Your hands grip the jacket closer as you curl into the leather even more, taking in the warmth and feel of him.

Red. On you. His red.

“Oh, sorry,” you chuckle. “It’s still cold, even in here.” You notice his gaze on the fabric hugging your frame. “You don't mind, do you?”

“Oh,” he stammers, “no—not at all.” Taking a seat opposite of you, he listens as you go on about the last few days. He can't help but give all his attention to the red that you bring closer to yourself—his red you tangle yourself in.

#jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd #jason todd x gender neutral reader #jason fluff #jason todd needs a hug #dc #batfamily #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #dc x reader

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kjmalfoy · 6 months

Text

Vanilla Bourbon• 18+ Content

Warnings- Alcohol Use, Foreplay, Nipple-Play, Oral Sex (F!Receiving), Unprotected/Rough Vaginal Sex, Breeding Kink, Praising, Choking, Authority Kink, Slight Cock-Warming, Dom/Sun Dynamic, Dumbification Kink, Very Slight Use of CNC, Pet Names (Babydoll, Doll, Dollface)

Summary- Two weeks after the office incident, James becomes very fond of you— making you his new personal assistant. After a long overdue meeting, James finally lets his desire win him over; nearly taking you on the countertops.

Pairings- MobBoss!Bucky x Assistant!Reader

Word Count- Roughly 4K

Authors Note- I SINCERELY apologize for the wait.. I must admit, I have lost my touch when it comes to writing smut :(( *insert tiny violin sounds*

My Masterlist <3

Part One- Filthy Criminal <3

Walking back into the estate you felt a rush of awkwardness consume your body, after just spending the last hour sandwiched between two buff men as James discussed business plans. The entire meeting, James would brush his foot along your legs; tossing you the occasionally flirtatious smirk.

Two weeks after the office incident, your body can still feel the sexual tension whenever James’ presence is in the room. Things have changed drastically since then, neither of you can go a day without touching each other. Whether it’s fucking you in his office, the empty parking garage after long meetings, or even the playful teasing during meetings.

James longed for you, more than he’d like to admit.

But for once, James had something slightly more sensual in mind. Opening the door for you, his eyes danced over your curves– those crystal blue eyes admiring the delicacy of your beauty, taking in every inch of your figure. “Hey, babydoll. Join me for a drink?” He offered, quickly catching your attention.

Looking over at James, you tilted your head slightly– giving him a questioning look. “Don’t you have paperwork to finish?” You held up the thick manila folder in your hand, waving it gently.

James chuckled, finding amusement in the serious expression plastered across your face. “Aw, come on. Boss’ orders, Doll.” He teased you, draping an arm around your shoulder as he guided you towards the bar.

You huffed in annoyance, glancing up at James. “Fine. One drink.” You spoke sternly.

Humming in victory, James nudged the door open with his foot; tangling his fingers around yours as the automatic lights flashed. Leading you towards the open bar, James stepped around the counter– looking down at you with a mischievous grin.

Without any warning, James latches his hands around your waist– hoisting your body onto the marble countertops. Hands still locked on the mid of your waist, he looked down at you; hungrily licking his lips. “My, my. Aren’t you a pretty little thing?” James taunted you, just barely brushing his lips against your ear.

Giggling girlishly, you swatted at James’ hands; prying yourself from his grip. “So, what about that drink you kindly offered?” You reminded, propping your arms behind your back– giving James a clear viewing.

James scoffed, rolling his tongue over the sharpness of his teeth. He didn’t move, keeping his body stiff and tense as he stared down at you; lust and desire glimmering through his thick eyelashes, his cheeky smile making you feel suffocated.

“Sure, Doll. What’s your drink?” He asked, turning his back and glancing at the dozens of bottles that populated the shelves.

You hummed silently, peering over the half-empty bottles James had on display. “Vanilla Bourbon, please.” You replied.

Nodding his head, James bent at his knees; reaching into one of the cabinets, pulling out the most expensive bottle he owned. Along with the bottle, he grabbed two empty glasses– balancing them between his fingers.

Watching James unscrew the bottle cap, he lifts the bottle to his lips– locking eyes with you as he poured a heavy sip of bourbon into his mouth, tiny droplets of alcohol trickling down the corners of his mouth. Using his thumbs, James wipes away the excess liquids– smudging them against your plush lips.

“Taste good?” He asked, smirking playfully as he watched your tongue roll across your lips.

You made a cringed face from the strength of the alcohol, the roof of your mouth burning from the strong flavoring. “Taste expensive.” You managed to mutter out as you wiped your lips clean.

James nodded at your response, slowly pouring the bourbon into the empty glasses– the chugging noise filling the atmosphere as the brown liquids clouded the clear cups. Grabbing both drinks, James nestled himself between your thighs and passed you the cup.

“Cheers to my best and prettiest assistant.” He toasted proudly, holding up the alcoholic drink– signaling for you to click glasses.

Chuckling at James’ flirtatious jokes, you reached for your glass– holding it up with pride. Clicking the edge of the glass against his, “Cheers to my favorite and most attractive boss.” You chimed playfully as you downed the glass of bourbon, taking it straight like a shot.

Gulping down his drink, James studies you�� a dark, mysterious glimmer in the irises of his pupils. He sets the empty cup aside and places his palm around the stretch of your thigh. “You have a little something,” James mumbled, gently cupping your chin in his hand– using his thumbs to wipe the corner of your mouth, slowly tugging at your bottom lip.

A shocked expression washed over your face, all the blood and heat in your body was rushing to your face– you could feel your ears tingle as James’ eyes were fixated on your lips, just barely tapping his thumb against your pout. “Open up, Dollface.” He demanded with a sultry tone of voice, the name rolling off his tongue like velvet.

You gulped down, eyes widening slightly as you stared blankly at James. “Sorry, what?” You muttered out.

A lustful smirk cascades across his face, his eyes nearly sparking in joy at the innocence possessing your body. “Messy girls have to clean their messes, Doll.” He said, rubbing his thumb along your lips.

Shivering slightly, you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out. James hummed in satisfaction, eagerly pressing the pads of his thumbs against your warm tongue. Sealing your lips around his thumb, you hallowed out your cheeks– swirling your tongue around the thickness of his finger, enjoying the sensual taste of alcohol burning your taste buds.

James rolled his tongue over his teeth, blowing raspberries as he watched you suck on his thumb. Within seconds, James had both hands planted around your waist– hastily pulling you from the counter, and pinning you against the countertops.

Hunger sparkled in his eyes, a faint blush slightly smeared across his chiseled face. His face inched closer to your lips, “Go ahead, tell me what you want.” James whispered, almost acting as a demand.

“Kiss me.” You whispered, returning the same suggestive look with an alluring smirk on your rosy cheeks.

Releasing his grip around the stretch of your waist, James’ hands trickled up your figure; fingertips trailing along the fabric of your attire before stopping at the curve of your neck. “Aw, don't tell me that my pretty little doll forgot about her manners?” James taunted, as his calloused fingertips found themselves buried in your skin.

Whining softly, you looked up at James with a heavy pout on your lips; sweet puppy-dog eyes glossing over your face. “Please. Please, kiss me.” You pleaded with him, tilting your head in hopes of feeling your lips brush against his.

Hearing your desperate plea made James’ demeanor snap instantly, dominance flushed over his body; his grip around your throat only tightening as his lips collided with yours. The taste of his saliva was almost intoxicating, the leftover bourbon still smothered across his wet lips. Feeling your knees buckle, your hands eagerly scrambled across his chest; gripping the thin fabric of his shirt for stability.

Constricting his grasp around your throat, your movements were now stiffened– forcing your body to move along with his guidance. James kissed you slowly, almost tormenting you with the slowness of his movements, and the scarce touch of his hands. His fingers nimbly moved along your waist, curving as he reached the cup of your ass. “Fuck, Babydoll. You taste delicious.” He mumbled into the sloppy kiss.

Pushing your body into his chest, you could feel your body weaken as his hands roughly worked the flesh of your rear– skin nearly burning from the sensation of his fingertips gripping your asscheek. Your desperation was evident from the yearning claw marks you left scattered along his abdomen– your freshly done fingernails digging into his toned skin.

Reluctantly, James pulled away from the kiss, leaving a string of saliva connected to your lips. He wiped his thumb across your swollen lips, wiping away the drool that glossed over your pout. Without a signal, James roughly latched his fingers onto your cheeks– forcing you to pucker up while he stared down at you.

His unrelenting eyes bore into your soul, making your body drown with embarrassment. Squirming away from his gaze, you stared at the ground; your body oozing with submission and brattiness. James clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disappointment. “Ah, ah. Don’t look away from me. I want those pretty little eyes on me.” He said, giving a slight bob of the head.

A soft whimper slipped past your sweet lips, your eyes finally traveling to make contact with James. “Yes, sir.” You obeyed, those tender eyes glimmering in innocence as he smiled at you.

Tilting his head, he studied your expression– taking in the clear submission in your voice. “Countertop or bedroom, Doll?” He asked, speaking clearly as he watched your eyes widen, and lips start to quiver.

James’ question barely had the time to be processed in your mind, all you could do was blurt out the word “Bedroom.”

Nodding his head, James lifted you into his arms; letting you wrap your legs around his waist, being able to feel your thighs clench around him as he tucked his hands beneath your asscheeks. “Whatever you want, Dollface.” He spoke gently, walking away from the bar.

Your arms draped around his neck, nuzzling your face beneath his jawline; playfully kissing the sharp skin. “Mm, hurry up. I want to touch you already.” You mumbled, making the hairs on his neck standpoint.

Kicking the bedroom door open with his foot, James laughs at your eagerness. “So impatient, Doll. Only patient babydolls get rewards.” He cooed, placing you down on the mattress. James stood in front of you, those crystal blue eyes glimmering with desire.

He stared at you with devilish intent as those calloused hands moved up his chest. His thick fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, slowly revealing his abs. You followed after James, slowly pulling down the straps of your dress; revealing the apex of your cleavage. Your eyes never left his, watching intently as he pulled his shirt off his body— thirsting at the sight of his flexed abs.

James yanked the shirt from his arms, tossing it onto the ground. He pushed your shoulders back, forcing you to lay flat against his duvet. James crawled over the top of you, the thickness of his muscular thighs resting beside your own.

Grabbing a handful of your dress, James pulled it apart; ripping it directly down the middle. Your cheeks flushed as your body was now exposed to his eyes, nothing but your leopard-print panties covering your sex.

His tongue rolled over his lush lips, nose flaring sharply at the sight of your bare breast. “Such a beautiful thing, Babydoll.” James complimented sweetly, his hands kneading at your soft breast.

A sweet, delicate moan slipped through your lips; eyes nearly rolling back at James’ electrifying touch. Your chest heaved, breathing becoming shallow as his lips wrapped around your hardened nipple.

One hand threads at your waist, his thumb caressing the middle of your skin; feeling the goosebumps that tainted your body. James’ tongue swirled around your sensitive bud, making your chest buck further into his grip.

Latching your fingers onto his hair, gently tugging at the strands as James sucked on your supple skin, leaving fresh red marks along your sensitive breast. His lips left your nipple, letting his fingers pinch the abused bud— making your body squirm in pleasurable pain.

James looked up at you, smiling in delight as he watched your body react to his touch. “Does it feel good, Doll?” He taunted, now using both hands to abuse your nipples.

Your eyebrows furrowed together, frantically nodding as broken whimpers and whines continued to leave your mouth. “Ye-Yes!” You managed to choke out in between your gasps.

James hummed in response, burying his face in the crook of your neck; the alcohol-ridden breath trickling down your body. His lips brushed against your skin, the warmth of his mouth engulfing your body in flames.

Mouth wandering your neck, leaving playful nibbles and kisses along your sweet, sticky skin; just barely bruising the tender area. James steadily left a string of kisses down your neck, finally making contact with your collarbone; those playful nibbles became more aggressive. Your knuckles tightened around his hair, roughly pulling his face deeper into your body— desperately trying to feel more.

Eyes barely opened, you looked down at James; guiding him further down your body. James looked up at you with a taunting glimmer in his eyes, snickering at your desperation. “C’mon Babydoll, you know better. If you want something, I need you to use that pretty mouth of yours.” He instructed.

Licking your dried-out lips, you inhaled sharply; attempting to focus on his words. “Please, James. I need more, I want more.” You pleaded with him, feeling the heat steadily build up between your legs.

Earning a playful chuckle from James, he leaves a sloppy trail of kisses down to your belly button; his warm salvia making your skin shine under the dim lights. He hooked his thick fingers around the bed of your panties, glancing up at you with lustful eyes as he slowly tugged down the protective fabric.

You lifted your hips, helping James pull the printed fabric down your legs– watching him toss them aside. His hands immediately latched onto your thighs, spreading them apart– leaving your drenched pussy on full display. Laying flat on his stomach, James brought his face closer to your cunt– teasingly licking a wet stride against your folds.

Squirming in pleasure, your eyes glossed over as you inhaled deeply. James chuckled against your cunt, pushing your thighs against your chest; leaving you fully spread for his tongue. Slowly, his lips found themselves sucking on your clit; swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

He earned a sweet moan from you, the pleasure from his mouth making you squirt against his face– eagerly tugging at his hair, pulling him closer for more. “Oh, fuck. Mm, feels so good.” You moaned lazily between your heavy pleads and whimpers.

His eyes hooded, just barely looking up at you– a smug expression plastered across his wet face. “There ya go, Babydoll.” He mumbled against your sex. James focused on your clit, running his thick fingers along your sticky folds; smearing in your juices before pumping the pads of his fingers into your needy hole.

Another loud moan escapes your lips as you feel yourself being stretched out by his long; thick fingers. James mumbled in satisfaction, his raspy mumble sending vibrations throughout the entirety of your body. The sound of your juices filled the room, nearly overpowering your delicate moans as he finger-fucked you faster.

His tongue lapped at your clit, tracing circles around the overly sensitive bud; the feeling of his teeth grazing against the small bud made the muscles in your abdomen curl. Lazily, your mouth hung ajar; mind turning fuzzy from the overlapping pleasure as James toyed with your body.

Feeling the heavy knot in your core, the muscles in your legs started to spasm; hinting at your expected release. “Mm, fuck. Gonna cum!” You whined desperately, squeezing your thighs around his face; smothering him as he continued to work on your sex.

James hummed in disapproval, slyly using his arm to hook it around your thighs– prying your legs up again. “Keep 'em open, Doll.” He spoke in a low grumble, looking up at you with dangerous eyes.

Arching your back, that tight knot in your abdomen finally snapped– causing your entire body to tremble in ecstasy. Your toes curled up into the silk sheets, a thick orgasm washing over your body; spurs of incoherent moans loudly slipping from your tongue. James watched with a cocky grin, eyes focused on the way your hips bucked towards his face; only adding to the mess coating his scruffy beard.

As your body eased up, James slowly pulled his fingers from your spongy cunt– causing you to twitch from the lack of friction. He adjusted his body, leaning on his knees; keeping his eyes glued on your body. With a swift movement, he wiped his cum-coated fingers along your lips; “Be a doll, and clean your mess.” He spoke with a taunting tone; smirking smugly as you pried open your dried-out lips.

Wrapping your lips around his fingers, the taste of sweet release invaded your tongue; making you moan in response. Your lips tightened around his fingers, swirling your tongue over the pads of his fingertips; sucking off any flavor left of yourself. “There ya go, Babydoll.” James praised with a gravel tone.

James retracted his fingers from your mouth, smiling in satisfaction as they glistened with your saliva. He pulled himself to the edge of the bed, watching over you with a careful eye. His sticky fingers played with the diamond-studded belt buckle, “Would you like to go further?” He asked before taking off his belt.

Eagerly, you nodded your head; reaching for the loops of his jeans and pulling him closer. “Yes. Please, James.” You spoke sweetly, looking up at him with seductive eyes– not wanting to waste a single second.

Your eager response made him chuckle lowly, tossing his belt on the ground; tugging down his jeans and boxers. His hard cock sprung out of his underwear, the clear pre-cum dripping off the head of his cock. Using the pads of his fingertips, he smeared the pre-cum along his cock; gripping his shaft and palming himself. “Such an eager girl.” James licked his lips.

Your face flushes nervously as James climbs back into bed; he gives your thighs a gentle smack, signaling for you to spread them open again. He positions himself between you, grasping hold of your thigh and pressing it against your chest. Reaching for his cock, he slides it along your folds; smearing your juices on his sex before plunging it inside you.

The feeling of his cock stretching you out sends you into a state of euphoria; weak moans of pleasure dripping off your sinful tongue. Your fingernails entangle themselves with the sheets, gripping tightly as your walls clenched around him; trying to adjust to his girthy size. “Oh fuck, James.” You whined.

James groans in response, the feeling of your tight; warm walls wrapping around him made his entire world spin; drunk from the feeling of your soaping cunt. His fingers dig into the plush skin of your thigh, keeping your spread as he slowly starts thrusting; making sure to take his time with you, soaking up the sensation and memory of drilling into your pretty hole.

His teeth dig into his bottom lip, nostrils flaring with sexual hunger. James picked up the pace of his thrust, hips slamming roughly against the skin of your thighs; a burning sensation invading you with ease, bruises forming on the depths of your skin. His gravelly groans filled the room, small whispers of broken praises just barely skipping through his teeth. “Oh, babydoll. You take it so good.” He said, just barely above a whisper.

Burying your head into the pillows, you screwed your eyes shut; trying your best to contain the overwhelming pleasure he was sending throughout your overused body. You were drowning in the sensation of his touch; completely engrossed and intoxicated with James. “P..Please, I need more.” You begged him, your voice dry and hoarse, but still enough to send him over the edge.

With a swift movement, James had both your legs on his shoulders, lifting your body slightly so he had access to all the right places. His cock bottomed out inside you, lazily thrusting along your sweet spot. Your body reacted like wildfire; thighs trembling against James’ chest, fingertips frantically searching for something to grip onto, and incoherent moans dripping off your lips.

James leaned over, your knees coming into contact with your chest; nearly restricting your breathing from the tight confinement of the position. His wet sloppy lips made contact with your cheek, placing soft kisses and nibbles all over your heated skin; feeling your scorching temperature against his pink lips. “Fuck, you feel so good.” His breath trickled down your cheek; still managing to give you goosebumps.

His praise lights electricity through your entire body; a chain reaction spreading throughout every limb, the joints in your ankles tightening as your toes curl. With scrambled movements, your hands latched onto his shoulders, digging your acrylic nails into his pale skin. “Fuck, s’ too much!” You brokenly whimpered, looking up at James with flared eyes.

He chuckled sinfully, his hand pushing itself between your thighs, searching for that sensitive bud. “Yeah? C’mon, Doll. I know you can take it.” James taunted you, pressing the pad of his thumb against your clit; making a circular motion against your bud.

The thin acrylics of your nails pulled at James’ skin, deep and irritated scratch marks inflamed into his skin. You felt it; hell, you felt everything– too much of it. Your body was overstimulated, James’ pleasing movements made your mind just numb; everything was hazed– truly being fucked stupid as his cock drilled into your throbbing pussy.

As the pleasure consumes your being, causing your body to tighten once more; a thick orgasm rapidly builds in the pit of your abdomen. Arching your back, you pushed yourself against James; eyes flaring wildly as he continued to mercilessly toy with your sensitive clit. “God, fuck. I-I can't take it anymore.” You pleaded with a voice coated with desperation.

The pathetic pleas only made James pound into you harder, his thumb working faster against your clit; forcing you to release once more. “Aw, c’mon. Be a doll, cum for me one more time.” He grunted out, a sweet; yet devilish smirk dripping from his cheeks. “You can do it for me, Babydoll.” His expression was nothing but taunting and condescending.

James’ praise ignited your body, an overwhelming sense of fulfillment trickling through you; causing the dense knot in your abdomen to explode. His words had you completely enchanted; acting as a command as the intense orgasm wiped through you once more. With rolled-back eyes, you felt yourself shaking; desperately shaking as James continued to fuck you through the tormenting orgasm.

With a low, gravelly groan James watched in awe; admiring the post-orgasmic glow decorating your skin. “That’s my good doll. Just like that, Babydoll.” He cooed, guiding you through the thick pleasure he was sending through you. His harsh movements slowed down, pushing deep; sensual thrust into your weeping sex.

As your body calmed down, you laid limply against the mattress; fingernails barely having the strength to grip onto James any longer. Your throat was dried out and scratchy, overused from the high-pitched moans that slipped past the tip of your tongue. With lidded eyes, you stared up at James; his thick brown hair sticking the sweat beads on his forehead; his nostrils flaring as he chased his own satisfaction.

A heavy hand cupped your face, feeling the heat of your cheeks rush through his palm; “You’re doing so good for me, Doll.” He grunted out, the protective pad of his thumb playfully tugging at your swollen lips.

As you whined against his touch, James felt his own body go limp; a euphoric tremble at his knees. He felt his thigh tighten with cramps, his abs flexing at his long-awaited release slowly built up; causing the entirety of his body to tense with strained muscles. “Fuck, [Y/n]. You feel so fucking good.” He praised, those white teeth digging into the bottom of his lip.

James used the last bit of his strength, lazily bottoming out inside you; throwing his head back as your warm walls clenched around him. His cock twitched, balls pulsating as the warmth of your sex surrounded him; milking him for every drop. His warm; thick cum piled inside of you; stuffing completely with his seed. “God, Baby. Fuck, you’re amazing.” He groaned heavily, those icy eyes rolling back as you cock-warmed him.

The fuzzy feeling of his cock twitching made your head spin with sexual hunger, the sticky cum along the walls of your sex caused your pussy to throb needily. James reluctantly pulled his cock from your cunt, watching proudly as his white release dripped from your swollen lips.

Moaning weakly, his calloused fingers scooped up his cum, eagerly pumping it back inside your sticky hole. “Such a pretty little cumdoll.” He cocked an eyebrow, glaring at you with a condescending smirk.

thank you all for the patient wait! bucky barnes fics are back, and i hope you all missed them! please check out part one, and give my masterlist a look through! (all linked at the top of the post <3)

as always, reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated. BUT, please do not post or copy my work on any other social platform.

at this point, my request are currently closed as i’m working on a list of other fics for multiple different character.

#marvel fanfiction #smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fic #bucky x you #marvel #bucky barnes smut #marvel fic #bucky smut #bucky x y/n #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #support your writers #bucky x reader

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sturniqlo · 2 months

Text

Shrunken Laundry- M.S

summary: matt loves doing the laundry, and y/n finds out she's pregnant what better way to tell him than using the laundry BLURB

cw: pregnancy, fluff

an: this has been sitting in my drafts for about two weeks now lol

masterlist

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

Y/n and Matt have been married for almost two years now. Dated for three engaged for one and now married. They were in that point in their lives where they wanted to start a family. They've been trying for about a month at this point. After countless negative pregnancy tests and disappointed tears, Y/n had finally gotten a positive. The only downside? Matt wasn't there when she took it.

Matt had to go and film with Nick and Chris for their channel earlier today. Y/n was sitting on their dining table eating a bowl of cereal when she got a notification from her cycle app. 'your a week late!' She gasped, Y/n was always the one to keep track of her period cycle, however this time it might've slipped her mind.

She nervously, yet excitedly, stood up with her phone in hand and went into her shared bathroom with Matt and started recording on her phone in case it was the moment. "Okay, so I just got a notification from my period app and I'm one week late. So, hopefully I get a positive." She props her phone on the counter and crosses her fingers in hope. Bending down to the cabinets she grabs the last two test and opens them. "I'll be back." She says to her phone, walking to the private toilet she closes the door behind her. She pees on the sticks, and puts the cap back on both of them.

She goes back out, washes her hands and flips the tests over and waits. "I'm nervous but excited if that makes sense? Me and Matt have been wanting a baby for some time now. And I hope I can give us a baby." She tears up at the thoughts. After five minutes of talking to her phone she notices that it's time to check. "Okay, I'm going to check now." With shaky hands, Y/n grabs both test in one hand, still flipped over, and she lets out a shaky breath. She flips them over and gasps. || is what she sees on one test and sees + on the other. "Oh my god! Oh my god! I'm pregnant!" She cries happily. She looks at the test again and laugh. "Oh my- look at it! She flips over the test to show her phone and squeals.

the next day

"Okay, so it's the next day. Specifically laundry day as Matt likes to call it." She whispers to her phone so Matt won't hear her. He's currently in their room, sorting out their laundry. Ever since they moved in together, he's always done the laundry. Anytime Y/n tries to put a load to wash, he takes it away from her. "This is my job, you already do so much for us." Is what he always says. "Yesterday when I found out, I ran to the nearest store to buy something to tell Matt about the surprise and I found this. It's so cute." She flips her phone and shows the baby onesie that has a eeyore on it.

"My plan is to throw this into the dryer once it's finished and it can be the first thing Matt sees as he opens the dryer." She flips her phone back to her. "I'll record his reaction." Forty minutes later, the dryer dings while Matt is in the bathroom. She takes the opportunity to quickly enter the laundry room and open the dryer door and nicely places the tiny clothing on top of the warm clothes. She quickly closes the small door and runs out.

Quietly she starts recording once she hears Matt come out the bathroom. She makes sure the camera is filming from her back camera and she pans in to the floor for the time being. "Did the dryer stop?" Matt asks. "I think so." She nods. He goes to the laundry room and she quietly follow behind. He opens the dryer door and grabs the tiny item. "Baby, what's this? Did one of your bodysuits shrink? I've never seen this one be-" He looks confused at first but when he turns around and sees you filming on your phone and a blue and white stick in your other hand he gets what your hinting at.

"Oh my god! No way! Are you actually?" He asks, his eyes glossing over. "I found out yesterday. We're having a baby!" She squeals. He scoops her into his arms and lifts her up. "Holy shit! I love you, I love you, I love you!l He places her down and she stops recording putting her phone in her pocket. He grabs her chin and puts his lips on hers.

"We're going to be parents!"

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holdmytesseract · 1 month

Text

... what the future holds ...

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: One look at Maggie's ultrasound picture is enough to question your future - and Daryl's...

Warnings: fluff, suggestive smut (it gets really spicy), talks of babies

Set in Season 6!

Word Count: 1,4k

a/n: Lil' story is done! This was planned to be a drabble, but well... 😆 I love how it turned out, though!

Right up your alley, @dixons-sunshine ? 🤗

Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist °☆• Echoes of Hope Masterlist

The van jolted softly underneath your body, as you leaned against Daryl, who was sitting beside you; head resting against his shoulder. You were on the verge of sleeping in, when he suddenly gently squeezed your upper arm with the hand he had wrapped around your shoulders. Tiredly, you lifted your head and looked up to him; blinking. Daryl didn't say a word and just nodded at his hand, who held out a little quadratic picture to you.

Sitting up a bit, you took from Daryl's whatever it was he was handing you. Since you had been on the threshold to dreamland, your brain needed a moment to catch up and grasp what you were looking at...

It was an ultrasound picture.

Lifting your gaze, you were met with a smile from Glenn, who sat opposite you. You couldn't help but to smile back at your friend, before you took another proper look at the picture - at the future. You positively couldn't wait for another wonder after Judith to join the big family everybody had grown into. Sure, the world was dangerous, but had it ever not been dangerous? Of course in different kinds of ways, but nevertheless...

You ran your thumb over the picture; so engrossed in the miracle you were looking at, that you didn't notice Daryl watching you. He saw the never-ceasing smile on your lips. The happiness radiating off of you. The shimmer in your eyes - and perhaps, the archer had detected something else... Longing. Something that threw him quite a bit off track and caused his heartbeat to quicken.

You took a last look on the precious, life-changing picture and handed it on to Abraham, who took it from you with a small smile himself. Then you slid back into Daryl's embrace; resting you head against his shoulder once more. This time, though, you were facing him with a smile. One corner of your boyfriend's mouth twitched up into a soft smile as well.

Words were never exchanged. He just gave you another squeeze and pulled you closer.

The first word you spoke with each other was that night after the meeting Rick had convened. It was already quite late; almost midnight.

You were laying in bed and reading a book; secretly watching Daryl undress. He unbuttoned his shirt and slipped out of his shoes and jeans with a grunt - and you noticed immediately that the feeling you already harboured in the church was resurfacing... Something was on his mind. You just couldn't pinpoint what it was – yet...

Once undressed to his black underpants, he slipped inside the bed and underneath the sheets; making himself comfortable beside you on his back, hands crossed behind his head and eyes directed at the ceiling.

You watched him for another moment in silence, before you decided to make your move. Putting the book aside, you slowly inched closer and placed a hand on his cheek; letting his scruff tickle your palm, as you propped your chin up on his biceps. "Daryl... What's bothering you, huh? Tell me." "Nothin'. 'S jus'..." The archer shook his head slightly, before his blue-grey eyes settled on yours. "I... I saw the way yer were lookin' at tha' picture..."

You frowned a little bewildered. "You mean Maggie's ultrasound picture?" Daryl nodded; chewing on his lower lip. You raised an eyebrow and smiled softly. "Why? How was I looking at the picture?" You saw the love of your life swallowing hard; trying to scrape all his bravery together and say the word out loud.

"Longingly. Ya looked at tha' picture longingly, 'n..." He stopped to take a deep breath. "N now I ain't gettin' that damn thought outta ma head." "Which thought?" You asked as you gazed deeply into his eyes; trying to read him.

"Tha'... Tha' yer might, uh, wan' this, too..." The archer finally said; gnawing on his thumb now. "I-I mean settlin' down, 'n, uh... Start a family..." His voice was barely above a whisper and his cheeks held a deep crimson colour. He avoided your eyes; breaking eye contact.

As for you, you felt like your heart had just skipped several beats. Not just one... "Wha'?" You almost croaked out. "Y-You mean... Having a-a baby?" Daryl nodded hesitatingly. "Yeah, uh, would ya... Would ya wan' tha'?" "Would you?" You shot immediately back; not answering his question.

Once again was the man biting his lip; the gears in his head turning - you could tell. After a long moment of silence, he shrugged his shoulders slightly. "Dunno, darlin'. I... 'M not exactly daddy material, ya know. 'S not in ma nature. Didn't have a good role model after all..." "I have to stop you right here, Dar..." You shook your head and moved to prop yourself up on your elbow; palm gliding from Daryl's cheek, down his neck and stopping on his chest. "You haven't noticed, have you?"

The archer blinked; clearly not following your words. "Notice wha'?"

A soft smile spread over your face. "How good you are with Judith. How sweet and caring. You're perfect daddy material, Dar... In my opinion anyways."

Daryl said nothing, was apparently speechless. He just looked at you for an seemingly endless moment, before he found his voice again. "Ya never answered ma question, Y/N..." He whispered. "Would ya wan' tha'?" Your eyelids fluttered as a blush crept on your cheeks. "I-I... Yes. I always... wanted kids." Your boyfriend swallowed hard; deft, calloused fingers scratching his goatee covered chin. "A'right, lemme rephrase tha'..." He said and took a deep breath; voice trembling slightly. "Would ya... Would ya wan' tha' with... with me?"

Once again tugged a smile at the corners of your mouth; your eyes gazing deeply into Daryl's as your fingertips gently caressed the skin on his chest. "Daryl... I wouldn't want that with any other man in this world. Only you. There has always been only you." "Yeah?" Daryl croaked out. "Ya ain't jus' sayin' that so I dun feel bad?" You couldn't help but giggle and shake your head again. "No, you sweet idiot. I'm not. I really would want that with you. I love you, Daryl."

The archer lifted a hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear; the other landing on your hip. "Yeah, I love ya, too." You smiled and dipped your head to slot your lips perfectly against his; kissing him leisurely. Only a few seconds passed, before Daryl's other hand travelled to your hips as well; biceps bulging softly as he pulled you closer, until you ended up on top of him. Both bare legs straddling his sides and lips still connected.

Soon enough started Daryl's hands to wander once more and slipped underneath your sleep t-shirt; feeling your soft skin underneath his palms - and that was the moment you pulled back from the kiss, before this went any further.

The archer's hands immediately stilled on your ribs; mere inches away from the swell of your breasts as you silently stopped this. Blue-grey eyes looked up at you; clouded with desire, love, worry and a touch of insecurity. "Everythin' a'righ', darlin'?" Daryl's husky voice urged to your ears. You nodded and twisted your bottom lip between your teeth, as you sat back on your heels - and Daryl's crotch, which caused a low grunt to escape his lips, alongside a muttered curse. "Damnit, woman..." "You never answered my question either, Dar," you prompted; completely ignoring the obvious and instead tracing the tattoos on his chest with the tip of your pointer finger. "Would you want to start a family? With me?"

The man underneath you clearly had a hard time focusing and setting his thoughts straight, but once he did, another soft blush spread across his cheeks. "W-Well, if, uh, if tha's somethin' ya wish for, I-" You shook your head and pressed your pointer finger against his lips; shushing him. "Uh.Uh. I asked what you want. This isn't just about me."

Daryl just looked at you again, then started to nod softly. "I won't lie to ya, darlin'... The mere thought of becomin' a daddy scares the shit outta me, but... Yeah... Yeah, I can imagine startin' a family with ya." "You sure about that, Dar? You don't just say that to please me?" You teased him, just like he did earlier. The archer just scoffed. "Nah. I mean it." You couldn't help but giggle and lean down to kiss his nose - what interpreted the archer as an invitation to catch your lips with his.

Daryl smiled; fingertips starting to map out the dips and curves of you body once again. When he reached the back of your bare calves, he stopped and gently nudged his nose against yours; breaking the kiss you shared. "Does tha' mean we, uh, start tryin' for a baby now?" You shrugged your shoulders and gave his sides a little squeeze with your legs. "You tell me."

Tags: @celtic-crossbow @belitoxx @lou12346789 @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @mischief-dream @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @sweetz1919 @0-aubrie0 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @stiveroon @cakesandtom

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biteofcherry · 2 years

Text

Nature’s beauty

mountain rescuer Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: Your teasing comment about staying home barefoot and pregnant makes something in Steve snap. He’s now eager to turn it into reality.

warnings: consensual; barebacking; breeding kink; housewife kink; light bondage; dubiously consensual taking of risky pictures; lots of filthy talk (not even dirty, just nasty filth); mention of cumplay; established relationship; Steve’s a rescuer but who will rescue us from Steve’s hotness;

*no squirrels were harmed in the process of writing the story

“Come on. Get out of there!” You huffed, tapping your fingers against the wood of the small birdhouse installed high on the tree trunk.

It was a birdhouse - and just this morning you saw a small, colorful bird check it out - but some sneaky, red squirrel decided to squat inside it. How did it even fit through the tiny hole, you had no idea.

You noticed it as you returned from your little hike, seeing a flash of an orange fluffy tail as the squirrel stuffed its tiny butt through the hole. So you tried climbing the tree, not much successfully, and scare the intruder out.

It wouldn’t be a good house for a growing squirrel anyway.

To prop yourself, you used one of the wooden crates Steve built you for the vegetable garden that you planned on starting. Since it wasn’t enough to reach the birdhouse, you stuck another crate on top of it. The construction swayed a little, but you braced yourself against the tree trunk and reached your hand up to knock on the small wooden house.

“Your nuts won’t fit in there with you!” You called, though it was doubtful the squirrel would understand you.

The crates wobbled, but before you had a chance to stabilize yourself with both hands on the tree two strong hands gripped your hips and easily lifted you up.

“And what do you think you’re doing, sweetheart?” Steve’s steady voice calmed your initial panic.

You melted into his embrace as he set you down on your feet on the ground and spun around to face him. Your immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, straining on your tiptoes to greet him with a kiss.

He’s been gone for nearly two days - his usual shift stretching longer due to a crisis his team had to react to in the higher parts of the mountains.

“Steve.” You breathlessly whispered his name, smile stretching on your lips.

So close to the way you looked and sounded when he woke you up with his mouth between your thighs.

“You’re back.” You pecked his lips once again then grinned. “Just in time for eviction.”

“Eviction?” Steve’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“A squirrel locked herself inside the birdhouse. We need to chase her away. For her own good.” You pointed up at the tree where few weeks ago Steve installed the birdhouse.

With a shake of his head and an overly dramatic sigh, Steve went to his truck to get his backpack with the climbing gear. He put the crates away - sending you a warning glare for coming up with a dangerous idea of putting your safety on top of them - then tied a rope around the tree to have a leverage for climbing. He reached the birdhouse exceptionally quickly.

Once he brought it down, you opened the front panel and shooed the squirrel away. It looked at you indignantly, holding a nut in its tiny paws, then scrambled away onto another tree near your house.

“I see you got into serious animal real estate business, even though you only got back home yourself.” Steve chuckled, pointing at your small backpack and the camera placed a few feet away.

“I went to the valley to take some shots of the early crocuses.” You beamed, picking up your things.

“But!” You kept close to Steve as you both walked up the porch and into the house. “I prepared a stew earlier and some garlic bread slices that are ready to pop into the oven.”

“Wow. You’re organized like a proper housewife.” Steve snickered, patting your ass.

“Yeah?” You glanced at him over your shoulder, waggling your eyebrows comically. “You gonna keep me barefoot and pregnant?”

“We can have that arranged.” Steve wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you to him. He kicked the door shut behind you and dropped his backpack to the floor.

“Ah-ah!” You quickly slipped away from his grasp.

You turned around with a grin, mischievous sparks lighting your eyes. You lifted the camera and clutched it protectively to your chest.

“Gotta put the fragile goods into safety first, before you go all patriarchal on me.”

“You’ll never forgive me that vase, won’t you?” Steve hung his head in shame, but he couldn’t suppress the proud smirk on his face.

The pretty, pink glass vase became a collateral damage when the two of you resolved a minor argument with hot, angry sex.

Steve bent you over the table and fucked you so hard that your hands flailed helplessly around and you knocked the vase off the table. As the glass shattered all over the floor, you gushed around Steve’s cock with a scream that surely carried through the mountain range.

“That orgasm was worth the sacrifice.” You laughed, disappearing into the bedroom.

“But my camera is too precious to risk it!” The cottage you and Steve were living in wasn’t tiny, but small enough that your voice easily reached other parts of the house if you raised your volume a bit.

“Duly noted!” Steve called back.

He walked into the kitchen where the faint smell of stew lingered in the air. He sat down on one of the chairs and bent down to unlace his shoes, smiling to himself as he thought of you cooking and dancing around the kitchen.

You were quite messy when you cooked, even worse when you baked. But there was no hotter sight than you naked on your knees on the tiled floor, with smears of flour on your face and then his cum dribbling down your chin.

Suddenly, provoked by your recent words, an image of you walking around the kitchen pregnant flashed through Steve’s head.

He saw you glowing and round, cutting strawberries with a smile as he whisked the batter for pancakes. You’d snack on the strawberries, claiming to be hungry and impatient to wait for breakfast. He’d take the fruit from you with a laugh, lick the sticky juice off your fingers. Then go on his knees to pleasure you until you can’t stand upright anymore.

He imagined you bent over the sink, hands in soapy water from washing dishes, as he fucked you slowly from behind - unable to keep his hands away from your pregnant belly, needing to take you as soon as he comes home from his shift.

He easily pictured you carrying a toddler on your hip, bouncing the kid lightly as you walk barefoot around the house, the swell of your belly growing with another baby.

You’d take the kids to the meadows, play with them and take stunning photographs of the nature and of the kids exploring its beauty. You’d chase away squirrels and tend to your vegetable garden - happiness radiating off your faces. You’d cook meals and try new baking recipes, and you all would eat together.

And later in the evening, when he puts the oldest kid to bed and you nurse the newborn baby to sleep, he’d take you again.

Fill you full through your needy cries, letting the nature take its course with your body as well.

Steve was so deep in this unexpected rush of craving he didn’t hear your soft footsteps at first. Only when you called his name upon entering the kitchen did he look up.

There you were - feet bare on the floor, your pants replaced with soft, cotton pajama shorts, and in his t-shirt which you liked to wear around the house.

All that was missing from the fantasy was your pregnant belly stretching the fabric of the tee.

Steve crooked a finger at you, wordlessly calling you over.

You noticed the heat in his gaze, how wider his pupils got and that his lips were slightly parted on a quickened breath. It was a look signaling some mindblowing pleasure coming your way, though you weren’t exactly sure what caused it at the moment.

You walked over, straddling Steve’s lap and placing your hands on his shoulders. His palms spread over your ass, fingers kneading your flesh and forcing you to rock against him.

Against his undoubtedly growing, impressive erection.

“I feel that you’re really happy to see me.” You grinned at Steve, but couldn’t help yourself from rubbing against him.

“Always.” Steve muttered and kissed you.

His lips were soft, but the way he used them was anything but gentle. He took possession of your mouth, tongue slipping between your parted lips to tease a moan out of your throat.

Your fingers weaved into his hair, fingernails scratching his scalp and causing Steve to purr.

He gave your asscheek a smack. Not exactly painful, but firm enough to elicit a squeak out of you and have you buck against him.

“I want to fuck you bare.” Steve growled, hips pushing up into you.

“Wha-” your mouth was still chasing his lips, your mind not yet fully catching up with his request.

Steve gave your ass another slap and tilted his head back, so your gaze focused on his eyes and what he was saying.

“I want to fuck you bare.” He repeated, his voice low and raspy with dark need.

“I want to fill you up and breed you.”

You shivered at his words. Your nipples tightened into hard peaks and your clit throbbed.

“You’re serious.” Your voice came out breathless, your throat suddenly dry.

Steve and you talked about having kids before, but it was all vague; nothing beyond agreeing that you wanted to build a family together, sometime. In the far future.

Since it was a unspecified future and your health didn’t allow for you to take pills or hormonal shots, Steve always had a strip of condoms at hand. Even in the spur of the moment quickies on your hikes, he always sheathed himself. You never took him bare.

Never felt him fill your pussy with his cum.

“What’s that thought, sweetheart?” Steve leaned forward and nipped your bottom lip when you let out an involuntary moan at the thought of being full of him.

“We’ve never done it bare.” You rubbed your heated core over his clothed cock. “I only had your cum in my mouth, or on my body.”

Corner of Steve’s mouth tilted in a smirk. He slid one of his hands to grip the back of your neck as he licked a wide stripe from your throat over your chin and up to your lips.

“I promise to still let you play with my cum from time to time, doll.” He kissed you again.

With your big eyes full of wonder, you always liked him to paint your body with white streaks of his spent. You stuck your little tongue out, swallowed him greedily, and scooped up every drop from your skin.

“But from now on, we’ll mostly fill your sweet cunt with it.”

You felt his dick twitch beneath you as he said those words. You felt your own panties and shorts dampen with your growing slick.

“What do you say, sweetheart?” Steve nudged the tip of your nose with his affectionately. “Want to get pregnant?”

“Pregnant and barefoot?” You huffed a breathy laugh, realizing it was your own words from earlier today that spurred Steve’s desire.

“Well, some days are really cold out here, so I think we can skip the barefoot part.” He smiled against your lips. “But we’re definitely doing the pregnant part.”

You were constantly grinding against him, your breasts pressed and rubbed against Steve’s chest. Growing heat consumed you and you wanted, needed, Steve to sate the fire he ignited. You felt as if your body wouldn’t calm down until he spilled inside you, like he promised.

“Yes!” You captured Steve’s mouth, clinging to him even closer.

“Yes, Steve!” You head fell back as he kissed and bit down your throat. “Fuck a baby into me!”

In rushed moves, surprisingly efficient considering how both of you were trembling with impatience, you undid Steve’s pants and took him into your hand. He pushed your shorts and panties to the side.

You both moaned as you slid down his cock. The feel of his hot flesh without the latex cover made your toes curl.

It was quick and brutal, really; your thighs burned as you bounced up and down on his length. A tearing sound, as Steve yanked on your t-shirt, didn’t falter your pace.

Your climax came as dizzying, filling the house with your scream and Steve’s loud groan following soon after.

Nothing but the pounding of your hearts and heavy breathing, as you sat tangled and spent. A little mewl of surprise bubbled on your lips when you felt Steve’s cock twitching and spurting more of hot come inside your fluttering walls.

It was hotter and wetter than how it felt ever before; and the thought of Steve’s cum filling up through your cervix made your pussy clench around him.

When you slid off him a while later, a thick dollop of cum dribbled out of you. Steve put your panties back in place, cotton quickly filling and staining with the mixture of juices.

“That won’t do.” Steve frowned, as he pulled the waistband of your panties and glanced at the mess between your swollen folds.

“You’re dripping it all over and it has to take.”

Before you had a chance to ask what he meant - your brain fuzzy from the aftershocks and bliss - Steve picked you up.

He carried you to the bedroom and dropped you onto the bed. He got his t-shirt over his head in a split of a second, then moved your pliant body around, getting rid of all of your clothes as well.

“Stay here.” He pointed at you and walked out of the bedroom.

You did enjoy the view of his naked ass moving. As well the way muscles in his back flexed.

When Steve returned, he had three climbing ropes in his hands.

“What are you planning mister rescuer?” You arched a brow.

He merely winked at you, joining you on the bed and straddling you. He weaved the blue cord around your wrists, binding them to the headboard. One of the red ropes tied around your left ankle; the other around the right.

You expected Steve to tie your legs to the foot of the bed, but instead he bent your legs at the knees and pushed them up toward your chest and slightly to the sides. The ends of the rope he tied to the headboard as well.

Once he was done, your breath was quickened again, as your vulnerable exposed position registered.

“Now,” Steve knelt back and ran a finger up your ass, “all my cum will stay nicely snug in your pussy.”

He scooped whatever dribbled out of you and pushed it back into your quivering cunt. He was right. In this improvised bondage version of a mating press, your hips were tilted up enough for the gravity to work in favor of impregnation.

“You’re so beautiful.” Steve looked at you, love and desire shining in his eyes.

From your gorgeous face, hair sticking to your sweaty skin; your breasts shaking with each breath and your lovely legs strained and bound; to your gorgeous ass and glistening, swollen folds.

A thick trickle of his cum lingered just below your leaking hole. He moved his hand slowly up your ass, reaching up to push that one drop back inside you.

“I wish I could preserve this image forever.” He murmured.

Then paused.

Slowly, Steve’s gaze shifted from your pussy to your face. His eyes darkened and a naughty, evil really, smirk curved his mouth.

“What are you thinking, Steve?” You asked warily, partly scared of his wicked idea and partly excited.

Steve got off the bed, but returned rather quickly.

With your camera in his hands.

“You can’t be serious.” You squeaked, squirming against your bonds. But they were fucking secured top notch, you were unable to even pull your legs closer together.

“Why not?” Fingers of his left hand returned to your heated skin while he held the camera in his right hand. “You take photographs of nature. What’s more natural than this?”

He traced one of your swollen folds and pulled it slightly to the side, exposing your hole and the white cream filling it.

A shutter clicked. First photo of your pussy saved on the memory card.

Steve took a few more photos, from different angles. Some close-ups of his cum, some a wider perspective including your stretched body visible between your spread legs.

He moved closer, kneeling up and positioning his hardened cock between your sopping folds.

He moaned as he watched his dick slide back and forth; looked up at your face and held your gaze when you whimpered as the head of his cock bumped against your swollen clit repeatedly.

“What’s more natural than a pretty cunt serving its purpose?” Steve rasped out, guiding the tip into your opening.

He angled the camera again, snapping a picture of your pussy opening up for him. Then a series of photos as he slowly pushed inside.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re taking me so good.” Steve bit down on his lip as he thrust deeper. “Such a fucking beautiful sight.”

He flipped the camera function to video, recording as he buried himself in your wet cunt. Your wrecked moan at the stretch, too. And the squelching sound of a filled pussy.

Steve’s free hand rested on your mound, thumb drawing the hood over your clit up and then resting on the hardened nub. Your hips bucked when he started rubbing.

He tilted the camera up, making sure to register all of your body before focusing on your face. You whined his name aloud.

When you noticed the camera pointed at you, you closed your eyes and turned your head to the side embarrassed.

“Don’t be shy on me, sweetheart.” Steve cooed, maintaining a steady pace. “You’re stunning. Absolutely fucking gorgeous. And your pretty, little pussy-”

He returned the lens between your spread thighs, recording every detail of his cock driving into you.

His dick shined with your juices and remnants of his cum. Your folds were puffed and darkened, and your clit crushed under his big thumb. Your wetness smeared around, glistening on your ass and thighs, as well shimmering on the hair above Steve’s cock.

“She’s swallowing me, doll. Greedy, little pussy.” Steve growled, picking up his rhythm.

“What she’s hungry for, sweetheart? Huh?” Though his hand was shaking slightly, he managed to move the camera so it was recording your face again.

“Tell me, what she’s hungry for?” He delivered a firm smack atop your clit that made you squeak and clench around him.

“It’s hungry for your cum!” You cried out.

You felt the heat engulf you whole, felt it almost burn the skin off your cheeks from the inside.

Steve always had a penchant for dirty talk, but it wasn’t always as nasty. Just a few lines here and there. Something about fucking you bare, trying to knock you up, made him wilder. And he forced you to interact along with him.

“Wants to be filled?” Steve’s raspy voice prompted again, another slap stinging your clit.

“It wants to be filled so bad!” Your need overcame the embarrassment.

With your eyes still closed, you babbled all the filth you were shy to admit, but everything you knew Steve wanted to hear.

“Wants you to fuck it hard and come inside. Please, Steve. Need you- Need you to make me take it! Fill my belly and make it swell!”

“Fuck, sweetheart.” Steve nearly came at the sputter of your dirty words. “My sweet, fucking, dirty girl.”

He put the camera down on the side of the bed. He didn’t bother to switch it off.

It recorded a slightly blurred angle of Steve’s hips driving into you, his balls slapping against your butt as he leaned fully on top of you and bottomed out.

It recorded the sounds of your bodies - wet squelching, skin slapping, Steve’s heavy groans and your high pitched cries; and filthy demands.

“I know you’re close, sweetheart.” Steve stretched himself over you and propped his weight on his forearms on both sides of your head.

“I am! I am, I’m so close, Steve!”

Your body wanted to move along with his, to rock up into him and touch him, but your tied limbs prevented you from doing so. You could only lay there and take whatever Steve gave you. However he gave it.

“I’ll get you there, I promise.” He nipped along your jaw, lavishing each sting with a lick of his tongue. “First, though-” he paused to kiss you fully.

A surprisingly thorough kiss, considering how frantically his hips were pumping you.

Steve’s voice turned into a low, gravelly growl.

“Tell me your purpose, my sweet fuck doll.”

So close to the edge that your toes were curling, you weren’t resilient enough to fight for more dignity. You knew what hot, humiliating words Steve fished for.

And you knew you could scream them out, because once he untied you and you left the bedroom, Steve would respect you like he always did. He would worship the ground you walk on and cherish you. Give you the stars, if he could.

“My p-purpose-” your voice choked on a moan as Steve angled his hips, driving his cock into that spongy, oversensitive spot inside you.

With a whine you dropped your gaze down, unable to look right into Steve’s eyes as you cried out the words.

“To be bred! Fuuuuck. To be bred and have your babies! Be y-your, ah, little housewife. To serve you, serv- Fuck! Steve!”

“I got you, sweetheart.” Steve groaned, leaning his forehead against yours.

He slowed his pace, but each snap of his hips drove his cock into you deep and rough. Skilled, coarse fingers maneuvered between your bodies, finding your clit.

A few strokes over your nub combined with the incessant pounding into your sweet spot were enough to push you over the edge.

You clenched your hands around the ropes that tied your wrists to the headboard as you shattered. Steve’s choked, low moans lost in the sound of your keening, as he came right after you.

Steve dragged his lips across your cheek toward your lips. Kissed you slowly, and wet. Your ragged breaths mingled, a string of saliva stretching between your mouths and popping.

He remained buried inside you, his cock twitching and spurting more cum into your clenching channel.

“I fucking love you.” Steve breathed heavily, a huff of chuckle at the end of his confession.

“Mhmm. I love you, too.” You opened your eyes halfway. “You perv.”

You both laughed, a quiet, intimate sound between lovers that knew each other to the tiniest bone.

With a displeased groan, Steve pushed himself up. He was careful as he sat back, not wanting to slip out of your pussy too quickly.

His gaze focused on your joined bodies as he withdrew inch by inch. His cock glistened with thick cream; your walls fluttered at the friction. He admired your open hole for a moment then squeezed your puffed folds between his fingers.

“Gotta keep it in, sweetheart.” Steve tugged on your folds lightly, keeping them pinched between his fingers.

“I could make you come again. Help your pussy swallow more of it into your womb.” His eyes, still hazy with desire, drifted back to your face.

You groaned. Your cunt clenched at the mere idea of another orgasm shattering your body.

“How about we leave it as it is for now?” You wiggled your butt as much as you could in your restraints. “You can do more nasty things to me in the upcoming days.”

Because you knew if you allowed Steve to make you come again now, he’d use his mouth. And if he used his mouth, he would switch into the overstimulation mindset - he always did that when he went down on you.

You were plenty ruined today without that.

“As you wish.” Steve sighed, with exaggerated disappointment.

“But I’m keeping your legs tied up for a bit longer.” He announced, releasing your folds and patting them less than gently.

You squeaked and glared at him, but it only made him grin.

“Better untie my hands.” You said, making a comically frowny face. “So I can call for the mountain rescuing service to save me from a brutal bear’s captivity.”

Steve laughed and plopped down on his ass, then stretched himself on the bed crosswise. He reached for the camera and finally turned recording off.

He did switch to a browsing mode, though.

“Stop working yourself up again!” You reprimanded him when you realized why Steve moaned suddenly. “Untie me and bring me food.”

“Isn’t it your purpose to serve me food, little housewife?” Steve propped himself on his elbows and looked at you with a cheeky grin.

“Can’t do that while I’m bound.” You smiled sweetly.

Steve moved up and leaned over you, untying the ropes around your hands in two swift moves. He rubbed the skin on your wrists then placed a soft kiss on each.

“Hmm, brutal bear has to think of ways to keep you full and still able to do your housewife duties.” He winked at you.

“Yes, yes, can you think of that while we’re eating?” You rolled your eyes.

As on cue, your stomach rumbled.

“You stew here.” Steve moved down your body and kissed your abdomen, then hopped off the bed. “I’ll reheat everything. Want some wine, too?”

Slipping his pants back on, Steve left the bedroom. And you inside it.

With your legs still up and spread, your hips tilted up and cum brewing in your cunt.

“Are you fucking serious?!” You yelled after him.

His response was an impudent snicker.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #chris evans x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers smut #chris evans smut #mountain rescuer steve rogers #mountain rescuer steve rogers x reader #steve fic: nature's beauty

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impishjesters · 11 months

Text

Heavy Petting NSFW

warning(s): kissing, grinding, drooling(?), use of the word dick/cock, no penetration, no genitals used or mentioned towards the reader, overall just heavy petting themes, submissive-like Jax, dominant-ish reader note(s): This is a sort of continuation to my SFW post of touch-starved Jax. So many people, I'm talking so many have asked for an NSFW version and I decided to go far out of my comfort zone to actually write something instead of using the bullet points. (Though there are bullet points for setting up, below the keep reading heads straight into the writing.) A/N: I let Jax have dick privileges (initially I wasn't going to), even though you don't see it. I'm not really confident in my NSFW writing abilities, I've barely held another human's hand let alone bumped clothed uglies with one. Beta read by my mother, yes, you read that correctly.

It doesn’t take long for those little moments of laying in bed together just kissing away at whatever your lips can reach to turn a little more…heated

It was you who brought it up first, asking if he was aware of what more was—he immediately said yes, namely because you were straddling his thigh and your own knee kept nudging against his crotch

Jax for once is a nervous, stuttery mess. If kissing already makes his brain go fuzzy, what the fuck is more going to do??

He oh so graciously lets you lead (let’s face it he’s too nervous, there’s a high chance he’s never done anything like this before)

you start with kisses on his hands and work your way up an arm to his shoulder. it’s nothing fancy, just the standard kisses the two of you have shared before

except now you’re straddling his hips and he’s lying propped up against the pillows in bed

Jax doesn’t know where to look, your position above him has him wanting to look up at you, at your face to try and get some grasp on whatever evil plan is cookin’ up there. But the other half has him wanting to look down at his crotch, sure both of you are completely covered but you’re just sitting, well hovering over his dick.

He knows he said he’d let you take the lead but you are moving slower than he thought. Working kisses over his hands, wrists, all the way up to his shoulders. You even fiddle with the straps of his overalls before brushing them off his shoulders. He’s almost tempted to slip them entirely off his arms as a means of teasing you back but doesn’t get a chance to act on it.

Your lips travel from his shoulder down over the smooth expanse of his upper chest, over his collarbones until you reach his other shoulder. He shudders beneath you and it takes everything in you not to giggle, he’s so sensitive that it’s cute.

A gentle unexpected nip to his neck makes him choke on air, large gloved hands quickly latching onto your hips for leverage.

Perhaps his touch-starved nature ran deeper than you initially thought if he was starting to get this breathy over a few nips and kisses to places you hadn’t focused on before.

Oh, how beautiful he’ll be completely coming undone under you.

“You know the deal.” He swallows hard at the warm breath against his neck, trying to pay attention. “I do anything you don’t like you stop me, and I mean it Jaxy.”

Jax nods, he’s getting a little fidgety just sitting still but it’s not like his usual fidgeting. Irritation is replaced with an embarrassing need, a need for you to hurry the fuck up.

“Nuh uh, verbally sweetie.”

He exhales with a groan, hands tightening on your hips before slipping one of them onto your thigh. “Alright, fine. I’ll say something if I want you to—!!” He’s not even given a chance to finish the sentence before you bite down on his neck.

It’s harder than the nip from before but not painful enough that has him pushing you away. Jax trusts you enough to know that you won’t intentionally harm him. Though he’s pretty sure he’s more worried about the fact that his fucking dick just twitched at being bitten.

If he wasn’t embarrassed before he is now.

Kisses are placed over the bite mark and holy shit you left a mark! You aren’t sure why that’s hotter than it should be, you weren’t actually expecting the bite marks to stick like that? This world is too confusing at times.

Apparently, you’re taking too long, because Jax’s hands squeeze at the flesh under them and he pulls you down, finally sitting you down on his lap. He has the decency to not yank you directly onto his crotch but just a few inches away and wow, that’s…warm.

This whole situation is embarrassing enough he really doesn’t want to embarrass himself more by finishing that quickly.

Somehow, lasting long doesn’t feel like it’ll be an option though because your hands slip up his arms, one hand coming to rest on his neck and the other coming up to an ear. You tug his ear as if it were hair, forcing his head to jerk backward and further reveal the untouched portions of his neck.

A breathy moan jumps out of his throat before he has the chance to try and compose himself. Fuck he almost came, that’s fucking embarrassing.

There’s barely enough time to process the pleasant sting from his ear being yanked before you attack his neck with bites and kisses. To throw even more on him your hips shift forwards against his and fucking hell that is indeed a very warm crotch against his own. Fuck.

Well, there goes all attempts at lasting as long as he can because he’s not positive that he came but the crotch of his overalls is definitely wetter than he thinks it should be.

Tears pool in his eyes, not out of pain but pleasure, he honestly didn’t think you could cry over pleasure. Just something for extra flavour in movies where some poor sap starts crying during sex or whatever. He’s quickly learning that may not be the case.

The hand on his neck vanishes but doesn’t go far, fingers ghosting down his arm until it reaches the hand on your thigh. Bucking your hips you push his hand further up, pressing down onto his hand to let him know he’s allowed to move back against you.

You might be in charge but you weren’t limiting him from being able to seek out his own pleasure and chase after it.

Finishing though? That was your job.

The bites die down but the kisses don’t stop, every inch you can reach of bare skin is fair game. Chest, neck, jaw, lips—err teeth? Jax is too busy being a breathy moaning mess to really process the regular kisses but he returns them when he can. His main focus is on the way you grind down on his cock, it’s not just front and back rubbing. You’re twisting your hips and pulling back now and then, causing his own hips to buck up in an attempt to get that sweet friction back.

“Oooohh fuuuck..” His hand slips back to your thigh, tugging your hips down in time with his own grinding. The other hand goes to your lower back, fingers digging tightly into the fabric and nearly ripping it right off you.

Truthfully, you aren’t even doing much work. Yes, you are grinding on him, changing up the motion and pace, but the majority of the friction is entirely on him.

You have to take a break from kissing him to simply just stare down at him, his ears are pressed flat and there are unshed tears still lingering in his eyes. His usual lilac skin is flushed pink and there’s…a trail of saliva starting to leave the corner of his mouth.

He looks completely ruined and it’s only been a few minutes. Though you can’t blame him for that, when the two of you first started simple kisses in bed it already seemed like he’d just pop a boner then and there. Maybe he did, who knows?

What you do know is that you aren’t going to judge him, regardless of how he behaves or how quickly he finishes.

“That’s it, such a good boy.” Your words are soft, boarding on teasing but overall genuine in praise. He’s an utter mess but he’s doing so well, pulling you against him and working after his own high.

When the kisses stop he struggles to gain a moment of clarity to look up at you and watch you watching him. Your face is so tender and warm, under normal circumstances he’d comment on how dumb you look. No, that’s wrong he doesn’t think you look dumb, it’s just a completely foreign expression he’s not used to seeing directed at him. He’s seen that took on the face of others directed at their loved one, but never at himself.

His hips stop and his hands slip up your back to pull you in closer. It’s not fair that he’s the one getting all this attention after all—even though he doesn’t know that was your intention.

You are only a little surprised when he stops moving and you let him pull you down against his chest. He peppers a few kisses to your face, brushing your hair out of the way before his mouth trails over your jaw and down to your neck.

Jax is loosely trying to copy what you had done to him, though his head was full of cotton at the time so he’s having to make it up as he goes along. But whatever he’s doing gets the job done because you’re letting out quiet little whimpers.

“Jax, you don’t have to do that… this was supposed to be about you.” It’s mumbled through gritted teeth, the little attack was so sudden that you didn’t have the time to choke back those embarrassing little whimpers.

A grin makes its way to his face, one of your hands coming up to wipe away the drool before pinching his cheek. “You wipe that smirk off right now.”

“Nah, I don’t think I will.” He snorts, one of his hands gently stroking at your lower back, fingers dipping under the hem of your shirt. “Bet you thought I was just gonna lay back and let you do all the work without even giving you anything in return?”

Jax let you lead, he never said anything about not including you in this.

It takes everything in you not to roll your eyes, just when he was being cute he had to go and try to take back the control. Whether it was because he needed to be in control to feel comfortable or just because he wanted to get back at you for easily turning him into an embarrassing little mess, though you knew it was likely a little of both. You did sort of take the reigns from him.

His hand slipped under your shirt but never left your back as you sat back up in his lap. Your hand took his free hand and slipped it over your thigh to your ass and of course, he had to give it a good squeeze. This time you roll your eyes, a small smile tugging on your lips. “Then how about we do this together? I’m sure,” you push your hips downwards on his neglected cock, “this little guy is feeling pretty neglected.”

Jax choked out a “rude” at the comment, caught off guard at the action but quickly bounced back. “I’ll have you know it’s perfectly proportionate to my height.”

“Another time.” Your hand returns to his ear but instead of just the one, you tug them both forcing his head back. Jax lets out a loud moan, whimpering and shuddering under you before your hips start moving against his.

The trail of drool returns in no time as the two of you move against one another, your fingers stay tangled in his ears and he makes no attempts at moving, only using one hand to pull you down into a messy wet kiss. It’s not often but his teeth separate enough for his tongue to slip out, the two of you learned early on how to work around his teeth and the rare occasions that included his tongue.

Both of you move like a well-oiled machine against one another, when open mouth kisses become too much, at risk of him biting his or your tongue the two of you move to kiss one another elsewhere. He kisses your neck while you’re kissing his shoulder.

The wet spot at his crotch only grows, an occasional glance downwards shows him it’s not just his own mess now but yours as well and fuck, if that isn’t hot as hell. At least he’s feeling less alone and a tad less embarrassed now that he knows this sticky mess isn’t entirely his fault.

Moans and ramblings of breathy pleas for more fill the room, the kisses quickly get abandoned the closer the two of you get.

The hand at his ears leaves, and both of your arms move to wrap around his neck before burying your face into the space between your arm and his neck. Both of you know neither of you will last much longer, all you want to do is hold tightly onto him, and he takes the lead.

Large hands wrap around your hips, and with little effort, he’s working your hips against his own. The bite of your nails on his shoulders lets him know you are close, and even when you let out a loud cry beside his head indicating you came he doesn’t stop.

It’s sensitive and borders on discomfort but you don’t stop him, he still hasn’t finished. Unraveling your arms from his neck you reach up and take hold of his face, your thumb slips into the side of his mouth against his teeth and applies just a gentle pressure to get him to open his mouth.

His tongue rolls out and you jump at that chance to kiss him. These kisses are his favourite and he’s ashamed to admit that the kisses are more than enough to push him over the edge.

Jax cries out a slew of cuss words that get censored, even the moment of ecstasy can’t be ruined by those obnoxious censorship sounds. His hips jerk a few more times before stilling, all though his hands stay glued to you the rest of him relaxes and slumps into the pillows.

His mind is too far gone to even process that he really just came to a bunch of kissing and grinding. For fuck sake his dick is still covered too. Ah shit, that’ll be an interesting mess to clean up.

You slump forward against him and simply lie there, soaking up the afterglow. Or tried to that is because, of course, Jax had to open his mouth.

“Gross.” He groans and finally removes a hand from your hip to rub his face.

Gross because of the mess in his pants, gross because he’s embarrassed that he didn’t last long—because he knows for a fact now that he came twice. He fucking came from you tugging on his ear and now that memory will forever haunt him and have him more aware the next time you go to scratch his head and ears.

Overall he’s not actually unhappy and you can tell, despite the annoyance plastered on his face you can tell he actually enjoyed it. If anything he’s probably trying to balance out his emotions and process everything that happened.

The annoyance pools into one of his iconic grins and you can’t help but feel a tinge of fear in that grin. There’s something in that grin that tells you that this isn’t over.

#jax #jax x reader #tadc #tadc jax #the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus x reader

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andvys · 3 months

Text

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter twenty one ⭐︎ Please, I've been on my knees, change the prophecy

Warnings: fluff in the beginning, alcohol consumption, mentions of weed, angst, mentions of unrequited love, kind of a sexist comment directed at blondie

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You never held much hope in your heart but for only this once... you did and it got crushed just like everything else was in your life and now you will probably never execute your plan and everything will slip right through your fingers just like you always feared it would.

Word count: 8.8k

Author's note: @hellfire--cult shoutout to roe, who always helps me with this story, ideas, dialogues etc. ily

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Waking up to the phone ringing at full blast was not the best start for the morning. Steve’s gruff voice centers you as your head rises slowly from his chest, looking at him reaching for his phone on the bedside table and picking it up with a grunt.

“Hello?”

You can faintly hear Robin on the other side, not really hearing what she is saying, you are still so sleepy. You lay your head down on his chest again, closing your eyes as a soft yawn falls from your lips.

Steve wraps his arm around you again, rubbing your side as he grumbles into the phone.

“You– ugh… I thought you didn’t have to work today?-- Can’t you simply use your bike, the weather is nice,” his voice died down a little when he looked out his window, at the gray sky and the rustling trees, no sign of the heat and the sun from yesterday. He sighs and closes his eyes again, “fine, okay… fine.” He mumbles a goodbye before he hangs up the phone, putting the receiver back into place, he rubs his face and tightens his hold on you.

You open your eyes again and prop your chin up on his chest, blinking at the beautiful man before you.

Steve squints one eye open, a smile spreading on his lips when he looks at you, his hand falls to the back of your head, his fingers now running through your messy hair.

“Morning, honey,” he whispers, already making you feel butterflies this morning.

“Good morning, Stevie,” you whisper, giving him a sweet smile.

“I wish it was a good one,” he grumbles and breaks eye contact for a moment so he can look at the clock on his nightstand. It’s only eight in the morning. “I’m tired and I gotta pick Robin up in an hour,” he murmurs words that leave you disappointed.

You wanted more time with him before his shift…

Steve squeezes your waist and pulls you up a little, attempting to pull you closer and you welcome it. You bring your hand up towards his face, brushing back the hair that hangs in front of his eyes, you move closer to him, no longer fighting the urge to kiss him first thing in the morning.

You don’t know how his heart skips a beat and how the fire sparks within him when you press your lips against his, greeting him more properly with a soft kiss. If you knew, you would simply throw those three words out, right this second, you wouldn’t wait for a perfect moment, you wouldn’t wait for later.

Steve hums against your lips and presses his mouth stronger against yours, getting lost in this sweet morning kiss.

You smile against him and cup his cheek, nuzzling your nose against his.

You can still feel the previous night with him, his hands on your skin, his lips on yours, his words, his actions, your plan for today, which unfortunately got postponed already. You have no doubts, not a single one. You were thinking about it the whole time before you fell asleep, last night, you thought about how you’d do it, what you would say to him, what words would be right to use. You wanted to do it in the morning, you wanted to take care of him, make him coffee and breakfast, the way he always does for you and then afterwards, you would do it, you would tell him, you would get the words off your chest that you never thought would see the light in this life.

But something, someone already got in the way.

When you pull away from one another, you don’t shy away from giving him another sweet smile, a deep look into his eyes, another peck to his lips. You catch him by surprise and you don’t even know it – how his heart is racing, how his mind crosses out all the anxious thoughts that spread inside of him last night after this sweet kiss.

Steve’s hand is wrapped around your upper arm, his lips are tingling, his skin feels hot already, his eyes gaze into yours and he sees something that wasn’t there before or so he thinks. You look at him with a kind of softness that he feels a stranger to, you smile at him in a way you only did when you were drunk and clingy with him, you look at his lips as though you never want to stop kissing him.

You fill him with hope again, the hope that began to dwindle the night before.

“I’m gonna make you some coffee,” you whisper against his lips, squeezing his arm and blessing him with another smile before you pull away from him, leaving his side to his dismay. You push the covers off your body and place your feet on the ground.

Steve places his arm behind his head, admiring the way your hair falls down your bare back, the way your naked body looks so heavenly. His cock stirs underneath the covers when you bend down to pick up your panties, exposing yourself to him, causing his hunger to grow in him. He would rather stay in bed with you, kiss every inch of your skin and worship you in every way possible, make you moan his name, make you see stars, make you cling to him because he is the only one you need.

Clad in your underwear, you walk over to his dresser and pick out one of his shirts, completely ignoring your dress that hangs over his desk chair. You put on one of his only band tees that he owns, The Cure. He smiles, adoring the way his shirt looks on you. You pick out a pair of your shorts and put them on, tying the string at the front, you look over your shoulder and eye him up and down in a way that leaves him blushing.

Steve’s mornings with you are always his favorites but something about today feels… different. Something about the way you look at him makes him feel happy, happier.

He gets out of bed begrudgingly, he follows you into the bathroom after putting his boxers on, he brushes his teeth beside you and watches you through the mirror, sharing glances and smiles with you, he watches the way you brush your hair and the way you apply moisturizer to your skin and it hits him like it never did before, this moment is so intimate, just as intimate as any other moment you have shared lately. Every kiss, every touch, every glance, everything has changed, not just for him but also for you, despite his doubtful thoughts, he has to admit that it’s there, a change.

You wouldn’t do this with just anyone, right?

You wouldn’t make coffee, let alone cook breakfast for just someone.

You wouldn’t joke around and steal kisses from him if there wasn’t something.

And you certainly wouldn’t play with his hand, entwine your fingers with his on the way back to your house if he was just casual to you.

And when Steve parks his car in your driveway and you turn to face him with a smile on your face, something else sparks in your eyes… nervousness, hope, giddiness, excitement. You hide your face behind your hair after a moment of silence and he sees the way you take a few deep breaths before you look into his eyes again.

“Do you want to spend the night with me… after the party?” You ask with a sudden shakiness that catches him off guard a little.

“Of course,” he nods, furrowing his brows.

This shouldn’t even be a question anymore.

“Okay, good,” you nod, whispering. “Are you coming with Robin?”

“Yeah, do you want me to pick you up too?” He asks, smiling.

You shake your head, “no, it’s fine. I’m probably gonna go earlier and help Eddie with the snacks and everything.”

Steve nods, “alright then, guess I’ll see you there?”

“Yeah,” you whisper and look into his hazel eyes as you begin to move closer, “I’ll see you there, Stevie.”

You kiss his lips, making his smile even bigger.

You pull away and gaze into his eyes for a moment, your smile matching his own.

Steve feels a longing in his chest, a deep emotion that he can’t decipher yet as he looks into your eyes but something that he knows is that he doesn’t want to let you go in this moment, that he wants to kiss, kiss, kiss you until all his doubt is gone again, until he knows what you feel, until he knows that this is real.

He watches you with a smile that never falls, not even when you walk away from him, not even when he can no longer see you after you step into your home and shut the door.

His smile lingers, the way it always does because of you.

It lingers on the whole drive over to Robin’s, the tingling sensation on his lips and in his stomach stays, the fluttering and the beat of his heart never lessens, hope seeps back in, taking over once again after this morning with you.

And it all stays.

It stays.

The clouds grow bigger and darker, looming over Hawkins like a dark veil, the wind howls through the trees, the leaves ripping off the branches and falling onto the pavement, the curtains in your room move strongly.

You clutch your towel to your chest, not caring about the water that drips from your hair and onto your carpet, you quickly make your way over to the window that you forgot to close before your bath. You look out and up into the sky, feeling the anxiousness in you already seeping in.

The storm isn’t any close yet but it’s brewing, the clouds get darker and they move faster as the wind seems to get stronger and stronger. Something is coming and you hope that you won’t be here, alone in this house anymore once it takes over fully, so you decide to get ready sooner than you wanted to.

You turn on some music to drown out the noises from the howling wind. You sit down in front of your vanity and take a look at yourself in the mirror. The marks on your neck are clear, the happiness in your eyes even evident to yourself, the circles that always glow like shadows underneath them are no longer there, your lips curl into a smile as you touch the side of your neck where he kissed you, just the thought, the memory of it makes your heart and stomach flutter.

You take a deep breath and begin getting ready, applying make-up to your face, using only his favorite colors as you put on eyeshadow and lipstick, words mingle together in your mind as you form sentences and prepare yourself for something that you never thought you would do. You rehearse it all in your head, growing more and more nervous as you do so.

You don’t know how things will go, how they will end but one thing is for certain, tonight everything will change, no matter his reaction, things won’t be the same after this.

You feel scared and anxious, you know that you could lose him tonight, you know that he could slip right through your fingers, you know that he could break your heart and crash it into a million pieces but even that thought isn’t enough to stop you from going after what you always wanted.

Nothing can stop you, not yourself, not anyone else, not the storm building up behind you.

You feel a giddiness, an excitement you haven’t felt in a while, you’re not sure if you ever felt it.

You put on a pair of Levi’s and a white shirt, using the opportunity of the cool weather to wear your leather jacket today, you pick out your favorite jewelry and spritz his favorite perfume on your skin. You run your fingers through your styled hair and take another look at yourself in the mirror, glancing at your bed behind you and hope that tears won’t be shed into your pillow tonight.

Despite the fears that linger, despite the storm moving closer and closer, your excitement runs deepest in your bones.

You wonder what Eddie will say, think about your decision.

You know what Billy would think, what he would say, how he would look at you.

You know that he’d be proud of you for going after what you want, he always waited for this moment.

You remember the look on his face when you lied to him about what happened at Scoops Ahoy, you remember how he sighed and how he smiled sadly when you told him that you were too afraid to ask him out and never ended up going inside – you lied to him to protect Steve, you knew what he would do if you told him the truth about what really happened, you knew that Steve would lose another fight.

It only feels right to take his car today, you rarely do it, you rarely take the Camaro out for rides but for the sake of keeping the battery alive, you take it out for late night drives or for short trips to the store whenever you get a sudden craving for something.

It’s funny, maybe even eerie that the car still smells like him. It’s been over a year since he has been gone but his cologne still lingers. You don’t know whether that is the reason for the calming feeling in you whenever you’re inside of the Camaro or if it might be his ghostly presence.

But whatever it is, it grounds you, it makes you feel warm and safe, even in the storm and even through your racing thoughts.

When you arrive at Eddie’s and Wayne’s house, you park the car in their driveway, behind Eddie’s Impala. You sit there for a moment, not getting out of the car just yet, you take a few deep breaths and take another look at yourself in the mirror.

You’re pretty sure that no one is here yet, you got here early, two hours earlier than you should be. Eddie won’t mind, he had been asking to hang out with you alone for a while now and as you look at his house, you’re hit with a sudden guilt, you have neglected him a little once you and Steve started spending more time with each other.

When the rain starts pouring, you jump out of the car and quickly make your way over to his house, running up the porch steps and finding shelter beneath the roof, before you can even knock on the door or ring the bell, the door opens and a smiling Eddie greets you, his curly hair messy and wild, his eyes sparkling and pearly whites showing as his smile turns into a grin. He steps aside and lifts his arm, bowing playfully.

“Welcome to the castle, milady.”

A laugh falls from your lips, you shake your head at him as you walk inside.

“Hi Eddie,” you snort.

He chuckles at your eye roll, closing the door once you’re inside, he takes you in, the smile on your face, the sparkle in your eyes, the happiness and the excitement etched into your features. He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Hey,” he smiles and squints his eyes at you, “how are you, sweets?”

You take your jacket off and glance at your best friend, at his squinted eyes, at the curious look on his face.

“Peachy.”

Eddie nearly laughs, thinking you’re joking by using that word, you said it too enthusiastically, too happily, too excitedly. The smile on your face matches the tone in your voice though and there is something about you that looks different today, he doesn’t know what it is but there is something. Your hair is styled the way it always is but it's shining beneath the dim lights in the hallway, your skin is glowing, you just look happy.

“You look pretty.”

You furrow your brows but smile even brighter.

“Thank you, Eds.”

Your best friend steps towards you, he wraps his arm around you and starts leading you to his kitchen.

“What’s up with the uh,” he pauses, pointing his finger at your face, “smiley face, you seem so happy today, did something happen or are you just that happy to see me?” He asks, chuckling.

You roll your eyes at him and shake your head. The giggle that slips from your lips and echoes through his hallway makes him clutch his chest dramatically.

“So, you’re not happy to see me?” He asks with a bewildered look on his face, “ouch.”

You slap his arm playfully and push away from him when you both step inside the large kitchen, “dork. Of course I’m happy to see you.”

Two paper bags filled with snacks and drinks are on the kitchen counter, nothing taken out of them yet, you instantly get to work, taking out the bags of chips and different kinds of candy he got for game night, movie night or whatever else this party’s theme will be.

“I’m glad you’re here early,” Eddie says as he makes his way over to his fridge.

“Why? So you got someone to fill the snack bowls?”

He looks at you over his shoulder, sending you a glare, “do you think I see you as my maid or something?”

“Yeah.”

He shrugs at you and turns back again, “don’t see you wearing a maid costume.”

You snort at him, “that would look ridiculous.”

“I’m sure Harrington wouldn’t mind seeing you in one,” he cackles.

Blood rushes to your cheeks and you have to hide your flustered face even though you know that he isn’t looking at you now.

You know how protective Eddie feels over you, how he never approved of the situation you had gotten yourself into with Steve, how he wanted to protect you from the possible heartbreak that might be leading up to but despite his negative feelings about all of this, he had been calm in the past few weeks, less negative, less cold with Steve.

Will he encourage you when you tell him what you want to do?

Or will he think that you’re making a mistake?

You watch as he takes out two beers from his fridge, placing them on the kitchen counter, for a moment he looks around for the bottle opener with a frown on his face before he decides to use his lighter instead, popping the caps with ease. He slides one of the bottles over the marble counter, putting it in front of you, he raises his eyebrows at you as his eyes flicker back and forth between the beer and you.

With a chuckle, you push away the snacks and grab the beer, “party hasn’t started yet.”

“Party,” he snorts and brings his bottle up, clinking it against yours, “party is gonna be at Hopper’s wedding, I’m gonna get shitfaced with you.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you mumble and take a sip of your beer.

“Why? Are you scared you’re gonna get all cute and clingy with Harrington again?” He laughs, giving you a smug smile, reminding you of the fourth of july.

You roll your eyes at him but you can’t hide the smile on your face, the smile that turns into a lovesick one as you think about last night.

Eddie drinks his beer and watches you, the way your smile doesn’t fall, the way your eyes are basically hearts, the way you seem so giddy over something as you shift from one foot to the other.

Had someone told him that he would get to see you like this a few months back, he probably would’ve laughed, he would’ve had more trouble believing that than what Dustin told him about the upside down when he was dragged into it.

You always had a stone cold face, your smile only ever appeared when you said something snarky, you rarely showed feelings and you only ever rolled your eyes at anything someone other than Max or Lucas said, it took you time to get used to the others, to warm up to them, it was a surprise that you warmed up to him so quickly but maybe it was because you had some things in common, though while you built a defensive mechanism around you by being cold and even mean at times, Eddie used humor and indifference.

Now you are standing here in front of him, a person so different from the one he befriended back in March.

You are happy, you are glowing.

Eddie is just about to ask, his curiosity is killing him and he can’t wait no more to find out what’s gotten you so excited.

“I’m gonna tell him.”

He knows what you mean, he knows right away.

“I-I don’t want to do this anymore, it’s just not enough. And I know what you’re gonna say but… I just want to do it, Eddie. We went to the city last night and we… we held hands and we kissed in the middle of the street and we talked for hours! He even started kissing me goodbye and I just… my feelings are getting stronger and I don’t even know how that’s even possible but I just… I feel like I’m going to explode if I don’t tell him the truth and I know,” you pause to take a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment before you look back up at him again, “I know how this can end, I know that he could reject me, break my heart and push me away but I need to try, Eddie. I want to try.”

Eddie’s eyes soften, his shoulders slump as a sad smile crosses his face.

The truth is, he is happy, proud of you for going after what you want but he is also scared, scared that this happiness that has just started showing will be taken away again when the man in question will shatter your heart to pieces.

Despite Steve’s obvious affection towards you, he still struggles to see through him, to read him, to find out what he is feeling for you. And what he had been told by a certain someone, doesn’t help his doubt. Yet he can’t deny what he sees in Steve’s eyes. He can’t deny the possibility that he feels the same for you so who is he to intervene? To stop you from going after who your heart desires the most?

You stare at your best friend, waiting for a reaction from him, his face is unreadable, his eyes distant but then he makes a move, he places his bottle on the counter and he walks towards you, surprising you by pulling you into his arms, he hugs you tightly and squeezes your arms.

A confused smile spreads on your face but you don’t deny him, you wrap your arms around his middle.

Eddie had always been affectionate, always stole hugs from you and a few others he considered close friends but usually it happened when he was hyper, drunk or high.

“I’m proud of you, sweets,” he mumbles and takes a deep breath before he continues, “I’ll be there to cheer you on… with pom poms.”

“Please don’t,” you giggle and pull back when he places his hands on your shoulders, his brown eyes are filled with kindness, his smile warm.

“Jokes aside, Harrington’s a really lucky guy, you know? You’re a catch, sweetheart and I’m not just saying that because I’m your best friend, you’re really fucking amazing and cool, he’d be really dumb and blind not to want you as his girl,” he grins, lifting his hand to tap your nose, “you’re a cutie.”

You swat his hand away with a snort, “cutie…”

“What, it’s true!” He laughs, his eyes glinting with amusement, he tilts his head to the side and his laughter dies down after a moment, a serious expression takes over instead and he squeezes your shoulder again, “but hey, no matter what happens, I’ll be there for you, okay?”

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod, trying to smile but failing to do so when your emotions spread inside of you like a fire, you don’t know what’s gotten over you, maybe it’s the kind eyes of your best friend or the caring tone in his voice, the brotherly love he feels for you, the protectiveness that reminds you of one you had gotten before.

You appreciate him so dearly.

“Thank you, Eddie,” you whisper.

He smiles at you and gives you a nod.

“When are you gonna do it?”

“Tonight, after the party.”

He nods again, “alright, you gotta tell me how it went.”

“I will,” you smile and look into your best friend’s eyes, taking a deep breath, you realize just how nervous you are when you exhale shakily.

Eddie wants to take your nervousness, he wants to rid you of your anxiety and your fear of rejection, he wants to tell you that it’ll be okay, that things will work out, he wants to protect you but he can’t, and he won’t lie to your face when he is uncertain about it all, so all he can offer is comfort.

And for you, it’s more than enough.

“Now come on, let’s fill these snack bowls and order some pizza,” he grins and pats your shoulder before he steps away from you again.

“Yeah,” you smile, tilting your head down, you look at your hand, at the missing hair tie around your wrist, the one that found home somewhere else.

You don’t got a single clue to where this night will take you, not a gut feeling, nothing but as the time drags closer to the evening, your chest begins to fill with a kind of anxiety that makes you feel on edge, the one that prompts you to open a second bottle of beer when you finish your first, it doesn’t get you drunk, not even tipsy but it makes you feel a little calmer.

And once everyone starts piling in slowly, you start relaxing a little more, especially when Nancy arrives and she instantly pulls you away from the others to talk about wedding preparations, about the color of her nails and the shoes she hasn’t settled on yet, about how excited Joyce was when she went cake tasting with her, Will and El.

“Have you settled on a hairstyle yet?” Nancy asks you and takes a sip of the drink Jonathan made her.

She noticed the way you kept looking over her shoulder while she was talking, the way your eyes kept moving back to the front door like you were waiting for someone.

Everyone is already here, well, everyone except for Robin and Steve.

You shake your head, “no, I’ll probably keep it open, I don’t know yet.”

“You should add a pink bow to your hair! It would match your heels!”

You smile at her enthusiasm, at the smile on her face, at the kindness in her eyes. She has been such a good friend to you but sometimes it feels weird to get along with her, given her history with Steve. You wonder how she will react if the truth ever makes it to the light.

“You think?”

She nods her head causing her curls to bounce just the way Eddie’s always do.

“I might do that then,” you smile at her.

“I can’t believe the wedding is in a few days already,” she says as her face grows a little serious, “and that I’ll be leaving for college soon…” Her voice falls a little quieter, her blue eyes search for her boyfriend who is standing on the other side of the room, checking out the vinyls on Eddie’s shelf. A look of sadness and longing crosses her soft features, her lips curling into a sullen smile.

They are going to different colleges, their ways parting once again… for a while. You can see the sadness in them both, the looks they share as they spend their last days together. You have no doubt that they will make it, that they will push through this time of separation. Nancy and Jonathan are so deeply bonded, you can’t imagine one without the other permanently.

“I’m gonna miss our shopping trips,” Nancy mumbles, directing her sad gaze at you now. “You should come visit me in Boston sometime! Before Christmas! You could fly in and we could go Christmas shopping together and enjoy a couple days there before we go back to Hawkins together!”

You laugh at her lightened up eyes, at the happy grin on her face.

It feels weird to think that far ahead when it’s something you never really do anymore, you rarely even think about the next week, let alone a holiday that is still so far away, a holiday that usually only saddens you and reminds you of what you had lost.

“I’d love that,” you nod, smiling.

Somehow her blue eyes lighten up even more and it makes you feel warm inside, you’re not the girl people ever tried to befriend and you never blamed them, you weren’t exactly open to making friends but for some reason the girl in front of you chose you and you don’t even know why.

The doorbell rings at an unexpected moment, when you’re lost in your thoughts and unprepared to see him. You straighten your back and look over Nancy’s shoulder when Eddie rushes through the hallway to open the front door.

You miss the look on Nancy’s face as she keeps her eyes on you, the curiosity flickering in her eyes, the knowing.

You lick your lips and blink, heart already lurching to your throat when you hear Robin’s voice and wait for him to follow her inside but the door closes a little too soon for your liking and the lack of his voice and his presence makes you frown.

Robin walks in by herself, Vickie isn’t by her side and neither is the one you have been waiting for. Her a little wet from the rain, a not so happy look deep in her features.

Your eyebrows furrow and you can already feel the disappointment, the confusion settling inside of you so deeply that it makes you uncomfortable.

Where is he?

“Hey guys,” Robin smiles as she steps into the living room, waving at the teens who are in a hushed conversation that none of you seem to be allowed to hear.

You notice the way her smile doesn’t match the look in her eyes or the rough tone in her voice. She doesn’t look at you but that doesn’t surprise you, not anymore.

“Where’s Steve?” Dustin asks, beating you to the question that has been repeating itself in your head.

Robin hesitates, she shifts from one foot to the other, twisting the rings on her fingers as her eyes meet yours briefly.

“He’s not feeling well, he stayed home… he… has a migraine.”

If there is one thing that you learned about Robin, it’s that she is either a fantastic liar or the most terrible one and right now, she is a terrible one.

“Wait what?” Eddie mumbles from behind her, giving her the same look that you have given her, “he was fine earlier when I called him.”

You don’t know what to feel at this very moment but worry is the biggest emotion of all. You would drop everything now to go and take care of him.

“Well, he isn’t anymore, migraines come out of nowhere, he said he wants to be alone,” she grumbles and gives you a pointed look before she turns on her heel and leaves the living room to go into the kitchen.

Jonathan and Nancy pay no mind to her little attitude, no one really is, except for you and your best friend. Eddie shoots you a concerned glance, furrowing his brows at you in question but you are just as lost as him.

He watches how your expression falls, how your shoulders slump and your lips curl downwards. He sighs, wondering if Robin is telling the truth or if there is something else. He can’t stand to see the disappointment in your eyes when there was nothing but excitement and happiness just minutes ago.

You excuse yourself to Nancy, not even noticing the look in her eyes as they follow you until you’re no longer in her sight.

This moment reminds you of your first night with Steve, the same excitement that lingered in you then, the same one that was crashed when Robin arrived without him and told you that he went out with Heidi was crushed yet again, only this time, you know that he isn’t out on a date, he isn’t seeing someone else, he wouldn’t do that, not even if there are no feelings in him for you. Something else is going on, that deep unsettling feeling that takes home in you is proof of that.

This isn’t like him, even if he did feel sick, even if he did have a migraine, he would’ve called you, he would’ve told you that he can’t stay with you tonight.

You walk through the darkened hallway, not even flinching when lightning strikes outside, too absorbed in your anxious thoughts. You make your way into the kitchen where Robin is opening her beer, she rolls her eyes when she sees you and it really shouldn’t affect you this much anymore, she always has an attitude when it comes to you, it seems.

“Hey,” you mumble, still trying to be friendly towards Steve’s best friend.

“Hi,” she murmurs, grumpily.

You don’t walk into the room any further, wanting distance between yourself and her.

“What’s really going on?” You ask, not bothering to try and have small talk with someone who can’t stand your guts.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she shrugs with a stoic look on her face.

No matter how many times she had given you the cold shoulder before, it still surprises you sometimes to see her act so indifferent towards you. The girl who stuttered every time she tried to talk to you when you had just joined the group, the girl that always made you laugh and threw funny comments at you turned into this but she is only like that with you, no one else.

“Yeah, you do,” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest, “I know you don’t like me, I don’t know what I did to you but–”

Her scoff cuts you off, she looks up at the ceiling and mumbles some words that you can’t understand and it only angers you even more.

“Just tell me what happened, I was with him this morning and he was fine, he wanted to come here, he wanted to spend the night with me.” You are already pleading, showing emotions to a girl you probably shouldn't but you are desperate to know, to find out why he isn’t here.

She shakes her head at you and laughs, “I’m sure you’ll be fine without him, Blondie. You can always find another guy, it’s not like you had trouble finding some before,” she throws harsh words and a look of judgment your way, not giving you a chance to reply to her rude comment before she brushes past you and makes her way back to the group.

Your stare is blank as you keep your eyes on the ground, not knowing what to feel, what to think, what emotions are swirling inside of you right now because suddenly there are too many of them.

You found out how rude she can be with the comments and remarks she throws at you sometimes but she never judged you for your past, you never thought that she would do that.

How could you ever want someone else?

You never did before, not even when you were sure that he hated you, not even then did you want someone else.

He is the only one for you, he will always be the only one.

You glance at the telephone and you don’t think twice before you head towards it, basically ripping the receiver from its place, you quickly dial his number and press your back against the wall, waiting for the call to go through, waiting for him to pick up.

Your feelings tell you that you won’t get any answers, not like this, not right now.

It rings and it rings but nothing and that only makes you feel worse.

Steve always picks up the phone, no matter what, no matter who might be calling, no matter what time it is, no matter if he is sleeping or not, he always picks up the phone, always. So this is only another sign for you, a sign that something isn’t right.

“Hey.”

You flinch, not at the thunder that just struck, but at Eddie’s voice, his eyes are filled with pity as they flicker back and forth between the receiver in your hand and your face.

“Maybe he’s sleeping, he always does when he has migraines,” Eddie shrugs.

You know he is trying to make you feel better, to take your anxiety and your anxious thoughts away from you but nothing, absolutely nothing will do but you don’t want to ruin his mood or anyone else’s so you put the receiver back and you go over to the fridge, reaching for a soda instead of a beer this time.

You don’t want to be here, not anymore, you want to be with him, you want to check on him, see if he’s okay but the gnawing feeling in your chest makes you stay.

The storm that rages outside taking over your mind as well as the questions in your mind grow louder and louder.

“Come on,” you mumble without looking back, not baring to see the pity in his eyes any longer.

Your best friend follows you without a word, making his way back into the living room with you.

You smile at Max and sit down beside her, trying to distract yourself by talking to the girl but it’s not that easy, not when worry continues to rise in you, not even when Eddie sits down on the other side of you and tries to talk to you about anything but him.

For the following hour, you feel restless. Scratch that, restless is an understatement, you are panicking. Eddie tries to comfort you, tries to take your mind off things by playing a drinking game with everyone else, laughing when El tries out beer for the first time, and sends the can flying without touching it in disgust. Not even that could take your mind away from the boy that occupies every second of your life now… and there’s a person in this party that knows exactly what is going on and is acting as if she doesn’t, drinking her fifth margarita of the night and smiling, talking with Jonathan.

You reach a tipping point.

“Fuck this shit, Eddie.”

You slam your drink on the table, marching towards Robin and Jonathan while Eddie scrambles desperately behind you, trying to stop you. He had never seen you like this before. You are so determined, pushing through it all, just for the sake of knowing about Steve’s whereabouts. But he too is intrigued. He knows Robin knows something… but his chest compresses when he remembers the night before, hoping that it didn't have anything to do with what was happening right this second.

He doesn’t want to be the cause of your pain. He hopes he isn’t.

You stop in front of Robin with a frown on your face, not even apologizing for interrupting her conversation with Jonathan, for stopping her mid-sentence.

“I need to talk to you.”

Jonathan looks up at you, a little surprised at the seriousness on your face and your sharp voice. He looks over your shoulder, glancing at Eddie who shakes his head at him, he only raises his eyebrows in response, he turns away and sips on his drink, walking towards Nancy.

Robin clenches her jaw, she meets your eyes and stares at you for a moment, glaring back at you.

You stand your ground, not looking away, not moving, not asking but demanding for her to follow you when you tilt your head in the direction of the kitchen before you walk off.

Eddie looks around, relieved to see everyone busy with the monopoly game that Dustin brought.

Robin gets up with a grunt, slamming her drink on the table just the way you did, she shoots a glare at Eddie before she turns around and walks after you with Eddie hot on her heels.

You’re standing there with your arms crossed, your heart pounding in your chest and your anxiety burning by now.

Robin mimics you when she walks in, crossing her arms over her chest as well, she looks you up and down before she shrugs at you.

Eddie, who is already looking between the two of you nervously, closes the door, not wanting the others to hear but hoping that an argument won’t break out between you both.

“What do you want?” Robin grumbles at you, her words slurring.

You can’t lie and say that her glares, her dislike towards you, doesn’t sting a little but this isn’t the main focus now.

“Where is Steve?”

“I already told you–”

“I don’t fucking believe you, Robin!” You snap at the girl, throwing your arms up, “you’ve been lying to me from the moment you stepped into this house! I know he isn’t feeling sick, I know he doesn’t have a migraine, he would’ve told me! I saw him this morning, he wanted to come so don’t stay here and lie to my face! Tell me where he is and why he’s not picking up his damn phone!”

Already breathing heavily after your little outburst, you stare at her in desperation, wanting, needing answers.

Her gaze never changes though, it doesn’t soften, it’s still filled with dislike, and her lips curl downwards.

“He doesn’t want to see you anymore,” she shrugs, throwing those words out as though they mean nothing.

You would have believed her, if you weren’t so determined, if you weren’t so set on everything, you would have believed her. This would have worked on you months back but not now, not anymore, not after last night, not after this morning, and even if he did want that, he wouldn’t leave you in the dark like this.

Eddie furrows his brows, looking at Robin who is so obviously lying yet again.

“I don’t believe you, Robin.” You shake your head at her, stepping towards her. “I don’t believe you for a second.”

She blinks, eyes darting back and forth between you and your best friend before she redirects her glare at you.

“Why do you even care so much? You can get dick elsewhere, Blondie! Leave him alone and don’t mess with him anymore, I think you have done enough!”

Your eyes widen at the words that took a blow to your chest, your throat tightens and you shake your head in disbelief.

You have done enough?

What could you possibly have done?

Eddie squints his eyes at the drunk girl before him, and he steps closer to the both of you.

“Why doesn’t Harrington want to see her anymore, Buckley?” He asks carefully.

Robin takes a deep breath and sighs, mumbling incoherent words under her breath, she runs her fingers through her short hair and tilts her head up, chuckling at the ceiling though not in amusement.

And then she suddenly looks at you with the deepest frown you had ever seen in her features, a fire burning in her eyes as she sneers at you.

“Because she is just going to break his heart sooner or later! She doesn’t feel anything for him!” She yells, pointing a finger at you. “She’s been playing with him from the fucking start, with his feelings and he is already suffering. I’m not gonna let her do worse!”

You draw back, with your eyes wide and your face stunned, you don’t know what to say, you don’t know what to feel.

The storm is raging outside just as the one in this kitchen is, it’s thundering at full blast and raining harshly but nothing fazes you now, not even the purple lightning.

It takes you a moment, a long moment to realize the meaning behind her words and the moment they sink in fully, you feel the aching inside of you.

“W-What did you just say?”

Eddie frowns at her, blinking as he looks at her, “Buckley… you told me Harrington didn’t feel anything…”

You glance at your best friend, confused about his words too, and you’re about to ask but Robin isn’t done just yet.

“Why does that matter!? Why does she fucking care how he feels?” She points at you again, taking a deep breath before she continues, “she never did, never have, never will! She always treated him poorly, even in high school for fucks sake and you want me to believe that she feels something for him!?”

Heat spreads through your whole body, to your chest and your throat, to your face and lighting up everything inside of you in the worst way possible, making your skin tingle with rage and your eyes burn with tears.

You don’t even think before you step towards her and grab her shoulders, pushing her up against the wall behind her, catching both her and Eddie off guard as you let your anger take over.

“You don’t get to fucking dictate my own feelings! I always thought you were stupidly observant but now I realize you are dense with anything else around you besides two people! You are ignorant towards everyone else, never giving anyone the benefit of the doubt!”

Robin stares at you wide eyed, not knowing what to say or do.

“If you looked at me, even for just one second you would have known how much I care for him. If you had given me that chance you would have seen just how much I feel for him! If you had even looked at me back in high school you would have seen that I have been hiding and suppressing these feelings for him, for fucking years!”

“I–”

You shake your head at her, shutting her up with a simple glare.

Tears blur your vision, your heart is pounding in your chest as you look at someone you once considered a friend.

You don’t know what she said to him, what words she used to make him stay away but you don’t even know if you do want to know, rage runs deep enough already.

“And you think I am this cold hearted bitch, well news fucking flash, Buckley, you never got to know me at all, so you have no right to say that! You have no right to judge my own heart!”

Robin’s blue eyes shine with tears, her features now softening and twisting into regret as realization dawns on her.

Eddie stands there in shock, not knowing how to be of help.

“So… you… for Steve–” Robin stutters, whispering.

Your bottom lip trembles as hot tears fall from your eyes, the excitement that lingered in you all day has turned into fear. You don’t know where he is, what he thinks, what he feels now that this has been ruined, if there is still a chance for you to fix something you didn’t even break.

But even through all this, you now know that there is, there was a chance. She wouldn’t hate you over nothing, she wouldn’t feel so protective of him if there were no feelings involved.

Fear envelopes your heart so fully and strongly that it nearly paralyzes you.

What if it’s done?

What if it’s over now?

You tremble and your tears cascade down your face, you don’t bother to hide them, to wipe them away, to hide your pain from the one who caused it.

You breathe in shakily and step away from her, finally letting go of her.

“There is no way in hell you will be the first to hear those words coming out of my mouth. I won’t say it out loud for the first time unless it is with him.”

Those are your last words to Robin before you turn on your heel and walk away from her and from your best friend, who doesn’t even try to stop you.

With tears rolling down your cheeks and an anxious heart, you rush out of the kitchen and through the empty hallway, you grab your jacket and the keys to Billy’s car, not even bracing yourself before you walk straight into the storm, not caring about your pounding heart when thunder crashes above you and the wind blows strongly against you as the rain envelopes you on your way to the car, wetting through your clothes and sending shivers down your spine.

You jump into the car with your hair clinging to your face already, rain and tears mingling together and running down your hot cheeks. You try to blink your tears away but to no avail, they keep building up and falling, your throat tightening more and more each passing second as a sob threatens to fall from your lips.

You start the car and grab the steering wheel, sniffling as you hold onto it tightly, breathing in the air around you, clutching your hand around the leather as though you’re trying to find comfort in something that used to belong to the person that always encouraged you to fight for this, for him.

Everything inside of you is crumbling now, to pieces, to shambles.

You look at the sky and you do something you have never done before, you beg, you beg for that one thing to work out, you would fall to your knees if you had to. You can’t lose this, you can’t lose him.

You back out of Eddie’s driveway and slam your foot against the accelerator causing the tires to screech as you speed down the road.

Your hands are trembling just the way your whole body does, your ears are ringing, the rain that paddles down the windows matching your tears.

Her words echo in your mind, all the hurtful things she said about you don’t even come close to the pain you feel when you think about him.

You never wanted him to hurt, not for a single second.

You would have taken all the pain just to protect him from it all, knowing that he is aching because of you, brings a deeper pain to you than ever before and you don’t know how he will react to seeing you, if he even wants to see you now but you are willing to try and you are willing to fight.

You can almost feel a little shock coming through the leather of the steering wheel. Something that wants to prompt you into letting go and finally park in front of his house. Something that is pushing you into being strong, to fight, to finally jump over the hole to reach the other side. It’s almost as if you could hear the words…

You can do it sweets…

Steve’s car is in the driveway, the TV light flickers through the living room window, he is here, he is home and you don’t waste any more time, you park the car behind his, you jump out and back into the cold rain.

The water splashes beneath your sneakers, the thunder makes you flinch this time but you clench your fists and rush towards his house, ringing the bell and slamming your fist against the door over and over again, yelling his name.

You feel the hotness from your tears and the shaking of your lips, not because of the cold rain but because of the emotions bleeding through you.

You wait and you wait, fearing that he might not open, that he can’t even stand to see you anymore, that he won’t give you the chance to talk, to tell him how you really feel.

You slam your fist against the door again, knocking a few times as broken sniffles fall from you while the storm rages behind you.

What must be a few seconds that you’re waiting out here, standing in the pouring rain, feels like forever.

Your heart beats against your ribcage, the coil in your throat beginning to choke you and you can’t even see through your blurry vision anymore. You taste the saltiness from your tears, you feel the panic sinking deeper and deeper.

You’re still begging and it takes everything in you not to crumble to your knees.

And then, Steve opens the door with bloodshot eyes, a piercing gaze that threatens your hope, that threatens your resolve.

A gaze that says “it’s done.”

You’re both done.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals!

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars @moon-flowerrs

#dwoht -- chapter twenty one #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #stranger things angst

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pucksandpower · 2 months

Text

Pinky Promise

Logan Sargeant x Vowles!Reader x Carlos Sainz

Summary: you had it all planned out — do whatever you can to make Carlos Sainz regret the day he signed a contract to replace your best friend — falling in love with both of them wasn’t in your plans, but when has love ever been predictable?

The soft hum of the air conditioning fills the hotel room as you and Logan lie side by side on top of the crisp white sheets. Your heads are close together, almost touching, as you both stare up at the ceiling. The silence between you is comfortable, but heavy with unspoken thoughts.

Logan’s voice breaks through, barely above a whisper. “I still can’t believe it.”

You turn your head slightly, studying his profile. “I know. It doesn’t feel real.”

He lets out a long sigh. “I mean, I knew it was a possibility, but ... I thought I’d have more time, you know?”

“You deserved more time,” you say firmly. “Dad should have-”

Logan cuts you off gently. “Hey, no. Don’t put this on your dad. He’s doing what’s best for the team.”

You prop yourself up on one elbow, looking down at him with a frown. “But you’re what’s best for the team.”

A small, sad smile tugs at Logan’s lips. “That’s sweet of you to say, but we both know that’s not true. Not anymore, at least.”

“Logan ...”

He shakes his head, still staring at the ceiling. “It’s okay. Really. I’m... I’m grateful for the opportunity I had. Not everyone gets to live their dream, even if it’s just for a little while.”

You flop back down onto the bed with a huff. “Your dream isn’t over. This is just ... a detour.”

Logan chuckles, but it sounds hollow. “A detour to where, exactly?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “But somewhere amazing. You’re too talented for this to be the end.”

There’s a long pause before Logan speaks again. “They’re saying Sainz is going to replace me.”

You stiffen at the name. “Carlos? Are you sure?”

“Nothing’s official yet, but ... yeah. Pretty sure.”

You sit up abruptly, a fire in your eyes. “Well, that settles it then.”

Logan looks at you warily. “Settles what?”

“I’m going to make his life absolutely miserable next season.”

Logan’s eyes widen. “Y/N, no. You can’t-”

“Oh, I absolutely can,” you say with a mischievous grin. “And I will.”

Logan sits up too, shaking his head. “Come on, you know that’s not fair. It’s not Carlos’ fault.”

“Maybe not,” you concede. “But he’s benefiting from this injustice, so he’s fair game.”

“Your dad will kill you,” Logan points out.

You shrug. “Worth it.”

“Y/N, I’m serious. You can’t do this.”

“Watch me,” you challenge, holding out your pinky finger. “I’ll even make it official.”

Logan eyes your outstretched finger like it might bite him. “I’m not letting you promise me that.”

“C’mon Logie, live a little,” you tease, wiggling your pinky enticingly.

He groans. “I’m going to get fired for conspiracy or something.”

“Well, they already fired you once,” you point out. “Can’t do it again. So let me just make this promise to you.”

Logan hesitates for a long moment before finally relenting. He hooks his pinky around yours with a resigned sigh.

“I, Y/N Vowles, pinky promise to make Carlos Way Too Many Names Sainz wish he was dead-”

“Y/N,” Logan warns.

You roll your eyes. “Okay! I solemnly swear to make his life a living hell! Better?”

“Marginally,” Logan mutters. Then, with a hint of a smile, he adds, “Okay, and I, Logan Sargeant, pinky promise to win whatever the hell I end up going to next … this is ridiculous.”

“Logan!” You gasp in mock outrage. “Don’t say that. We’re doing a ritual here.”

You tug your joined hands towards your mouth, lightly kissing Logan’s finger where it’s wrapped around yours. He mirrors the action, and you both pretend not to notice the dusting of pink on each other’s cheeks.

“Now what?” Logan asks softly as you lower your hands.

“Now we wait for the future,” you reply with a small smile, slowly detangling your pinkies.

Logan flops back onto the bed with a dramatic sigh. “The future. Right. No pressure or anything.”

You lie back down next to him, your shoulders just barely touching. “Hey, no pressure. Remember? We’ve got pinky promises on our side now.”

Logan snorts. “Oh yeah, because those are legally binding.”

“More binding than any contract,” you insist solemnly. “Break a pinky promise and you lose the finger. It’s the law.”

“Is that so?” Logan asks, amusement coloring his voice.

You nod sagely. “Absolutely. It’s in the Constitution and everything.”

“Which Constitution would that be?”

“The International Pinky Promise Constitution. Obviously.”

Logan finally cracks, letting out a genuine laugh that makes your heart feel a little lighter. “Oh, obviously. How could I forget about that very real document?”

You grin, turning on your side to face him. “See? I knew you’d come around to the seriousness of our pact.”

Logan mirrors your position, his expression sobering slightly. “Y/N, you know you don’t actually have to do anything, right? I appreciate the thought, but I don’t want you jeopardizing your relationship with your dad or ... or doing anything you might regret.”

You reach out, gently squeezing his arm. “Hey. I know. And I’m not going to do anything truly terrible, I promise. But a little harmless mischief to make Carlos’ life interesting? That’s fair game.”

Logan raises an eyebrow. “Define ‘harmless mischief.’”

You grin wickedly. “Oh, you know. The classics. Whoopee cushions. Plastic wrap on doorways. Maybe I’ll learn to play the kazoo and practice outside his hotel room at 3 AM.”

“You wouldn’t,” Logan gasps in mock horror.

“Try me, Sargeant,” you challenge.

Logan shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “But you love me anyway.”

The words slip out before you can stop them, and for a moment, the air between you feels charged. Logan’s eyes widen slightly, and you find yourself holding your breath.

“Yeah,” he says softly after what feels like an eternity. “I guess I do.”

Your heart does a little flip in your chest, but before you can respond, Logan clears his throat and sits up.

“We should probably get some sleep,” he says, not quite meeting your eyes. “Early start tomorrow.”

You nod, trying to ignore the slight sting of disappointment. “Right. Yeah. Of course.”

As you both stand up from the bed, an awkward tension settles over the room. You hover uncertainly by the door, not quite ready to leave.

“Logan?” You say softly.

He looks up at you, his expression unreadable. “Yeah?”

You take a deep breath. “No matter what happens next ... I’m always going to be in your corner. You know that, right?”

Logan’s face softens, and he crosses the room to pull you into a tight hug. “I know,” he murmurs into your hair. “Thank you.”

You close your eyes, savoring the warmth of his embrace. “Anytime. That’s what best friends are for, right?”

Logan pulls back slightly, his hands still resting on your shoulders. For a moment, you think he might say something more, but then he just smiles and nods.

“Right,” he agrees. “Best friends.”

As you leave his room and head back to your own, you can’t help but wonder if there might be something more simmering beneath the surface of your friendship. But for now, you push those thoughts aside. Logan needs you as his friend right now, and that’s exactly what you’ll be.

Besides, you have a season of mischief to plan.

***

Carlos steps into the Williams headquarters with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. It’s his first day as an official driver for the team, and he’s determined to make a good impression. As he’s led through the facility, he can’t help but notice the curious glances and whispered conversations that follow in his wake.

“And here’s our main break room,” his tour guide announces, pushing open a set of double doors.

Carlos’ attention is immediately drawn to a figure standing by a table laden with what appears to be refreshments. His breath catches in his throat as he takes in the sight before him.

You’re wearing a pale blue apron over a simple sundress, your hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. There’s a smudge of what looks like flour on your cheek, and your eyes are sparkling with barely contained mischief. To Carlos, you look like you’ve stepped straight out of a 1950s magazine, and he’s instantly smitten.

“Ah, Carlos!” You exclaim, your voice warm and inviting. “I’m so glad you’re here. I made something special to welcome you to the team.”

Carlos approaches, unable to take his eyes off you. “That’s very kind of you, señorita ...”

“Oh, where are my manners?” You giggle, extending a hand. “I’m Y/N Vowles. James’ daughter.”

Carlos takes your hand, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I’ve heard wonderful things about you from your father.”

You blush prettily, and Carlos feels his heart skip a beat. “All lies, I’m sure,” you tease. “But come, you must try the cake I made. It’s a special recipe.”

Carlos allows himself to be led to the table, where a beautiful cake sits proudly on a stand. It’s frosted in a vibrant red, with delicate swirls of orange and yellow that make it look almost like flames.

“It looks incredible,” Carlos says, genuinely impressed. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble for me.”

You wave off his words with a bright smile. “Nonsense! It’s not every day we get such an esteemed driver joining our team. I wanted to make something that would really ... leave an impression.”

There’s something in the way you say those last words that makes Carlos pause, but he brushes it off as nerves. After all, what could be wrong with a simple cake?

“Well, then,” Carlos grins, “I’d be honored to have the first slice.”

You clap your hands together excitedly. “Wonderful! Let me just grab a knife.”

As you bustle around, cutting a generous slice and placing it on a plate, Carlos can’t help but admire the way you move. There’s a grace to your actions, but also a hint of barely contained energy, like you’re holding back laughter.

“Here you are,” you say, presenting him with the cake and a fork. “I do hope you enjoy it.”

Carlos takes the plate, noticing how several other team members have gathered around, watching with interest. He supposes it’s natural for them to be curious about the new driver.

“Gracias, hermosa,” he says, flashing you his most charming smile. He takes a bite, savoring the sweet flavor for a moment before ...

Fire erupts in his mouth.

Carlos’ eyes widen in shock as the heat hits him full force. It’s like someone has poured molten lava directly onto his tongue. He coughs, struggling to catch his breath as tears spring to his eyes.

“Is something wrong?” You ask innocently, though there’s a glint in your eye that suggests you know exactly what’s happening.

Carlos tries to speak, but all that comes out is a choked gasp. He reaches for the nearest glass of water, downing it in one go, but it does little to quell the inferno in his mouth.

Through the haze of tears, he sees you watching him, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. And despite the agony he’s in, Carlos can’t help but think you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Hermosa,” he finally manages to croak out between coughs, “I’m touched you tried to make a cake in honor of my nickname, but I got it because I don’t like chili.”

You tilt your head to the side, the picture of innocence. “Oh? I had no idea. How terribly unfortunate.”

Carlos isn’t sure, but he thinks he detects a note of satisfaction in your voice. He wipes at his streaming eyes, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

“What ... what kind of pepper did you use?” He asks, his voice hoarse.

You tap a finger against your chin, as if deep in thought. “Oh, you know, just a little of this, a little of that. I believe there might have been some Carolina Reaper in there. And maybe a touch of Ghost Pepper. Or was it Trinidad Scorpion? It’s so hard to keep track.”

Carlos’ jaw drops. “You ... you put the world’s hottest peppers in a cake?”

You shrug, your eyes dancing with barely concealed glee. “I wanted it to have a real kick. After all, you’re going to need all the fire you can get to keep up with our team, aren’t you?”

There’s something in your tone that makes Carlos wonder if there’s more to this than a simple baking mishap. But surely, he reasons, no one would go to such lengths just to make him uncomfortable on his first day. Would they?

“I ... appreciate the thought,” Carlos says, trying to be diplomatic despite the fact that his entire mouth feels like it’s been scrubbed with sandpaper. “But perhaps next time, a simple vanilla cake would suffice?”

You laugh, the sound like tinkling bells. “Oh, Carlos. Where’s the fun in that?”

Carlos finds himself chuckling despite the lingering burn. There’s something about you that he finds utterly captivating, even if you did just try to melt his taste buds.

“You know,” you say, leaning in conspiratorially, “I’ve heard that milk can help with the heat. Would you like some?”

Carlos nods eagerly. “Sí, por favor. That would be wonderful.”

You disappear for a moment, returning with a tall glass of milk. Carlos takes it gratefully, downing half of it in one go. It’s only after he’s swallowed that he realizes something is ... off.

The milk tastes sour, curdled. Carlos gags, barely managing to keep from spitting it out in front of everyone.

“Oh dear,” you say, your eyes wide with feigned concern. “Is the milk not to your liking either? How terribly clumsy of me. I must have grabbed the wrong carton.”

Carlos looks at you, really looks at you, and suddenly he’s sure that none of this is an accident. But why? What has he done to deserve such treatment?

Before he can voice any of these thoughts, you’re already backing away, that mischievous smile still playing on your lips.

“Well, I should really get going,” you announce. “Lots to do, you know how it is. Welcome to the team, Carlos. I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

With that, you turn on your heel, giving your hair a little flip as you saunter towards the door. Just before you exit, you glance back over your shoulder, meeting Carlos’ bewildered gaze.

“Oh, and Carlos?” You say sweetly. “Do try to stay cool out there on the track, won’t you?”

And with a final giggle, you’re gone, leaving Carlos standing there with a burning mouth, sour milk, and more questions than answers.

As the other team members rush to get him water and apologize for the “mix-up,” Carlos finds his thoughts drifting back to you. Despite everything, he can’t deny the spark of intrigue you’ve ignited in him. You’re a puzzle, one he’s suddenly very eager to solve.

“Are you alright, mate?” One of the mechanics asks, looking concerned.

Carlos nods, a slow smile spreading across his face despite the lingering burn. “Sí, I’m fine. Just ... adjusting to the Williams welcome, I suppose.”

As he’s led away to continue his tour, Carlos can’t shake the feeling that his time at Williams is going to be far more interesting than he’d anticipated. And somehow, he’s looking forward to every moment of it.

Because if there’s one thing Carlos loves, it’s a challenge. And you, with your sweet smile and fiery surprises, might just be the biggest challenge he’s ever faced.

Game on, he thinks to himself. Game on.

***

The bell above the door chimes as you step into the local Boots pharmacy, a mischievous glint in your eye. You scan the aisles, searching for your target: the hair care section. As you approach, a friendly-looking employee notices your slightly lost expression and approaches.

“Can I help you find anything?” She asks with a smile.

You put on your most innocent face. “Oh, yes, please. I’m looking for some hair products, but I’m not sure where to start. What would you say are the absolute worst ones you carry?”

The employee’s eyebrows shoot up. “I’m sorry, did you say worst?”

You nod enthusiastically. “Yes, exactly. The ones you’d never recommend to anyone. The cheapest, most damaging products you have.”

“Well,” the employee says hesitantly, “we don’t really carry anything I’d consider ‘damaging,’ but there are certainly some budget options that aren’t as high-quality as others.”

“Perfect!” You exclaim. “Those are exactly what I’m looking for. Could you show me?”

Still looking confused, the employee leads you down the aisle. “May I ask why you’re interested in these particular products?”

You think quickly. “Oh, it’s for a ... science experiment. I’m testing the effects of different hair products on ... um ... synthetic hair fibers.”

The employee doesn’t look entirely convinced, but she shrugs and starts pointing out various items. “Well, if you’re looking for the least effective products, I’d say stay away from these. This shampoo tends to leave a residue, this conditioner is known for making hair feel greasy, and this styling gel can make hair crunchy and flaky.”

You nod along, grabbing each item as she mentions it. “Excellent, excellent. Any others?”

By the time you’re done, your basket is overflowing with an assortment of the cheapest, least recommended hair products in the store. The employee eyes your haul with concern.

“Are you sure you want all of these?” She asks.

You flash her a bright smile. “Absolutely! The more data points for my experiment, the better. Thank you so much for your help!”

As you make your way to the checkout, you can’t help but giggle to yourself. Phase two of Operation Humble Carlos is officially underway.

Later that evening, you find yourself outside a sleek apartment building in the heart of Grove. Your heart races with a mixture of excitement and nervousness as you fish a key out of your pocket — a key you had “borrowed” from your father’s desk drawer earlier that day.

“Sorry, Dad,” you mutter under your breath as you slip into the building. “But desperate times call for desperate measures.”

You make your way up to the fifth floor, your footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. Pausing outside apartment 5C, you take a deep breath and slide the key into the lock. It turns smoothly, and you’re in.

Carlos’ temporary apartment is immaculate, with minimalist furniture and a few personal touches here and there. You spot a framed photo of him with his family on a side table and feel a twinge of guilt. But then you remember Logan’s devastated face when he learned he was being replaced, and your resolve hardens.

“Right,” you say to yourself, setting down your bag of drugstore products. “Let’s get to work.”

You head straight for the bathroom, knowing you don’t have much time before Carlos returns from his evening training session. The bathroom is just as pristine as the rest of the apartment, with a array of expensive-looking products lined up neatly on the counter.

You pick up one of the bottles, whistling low under your breath as you read the label. “Oribe? Fancy.” You turn the bottle over, eyes widening at the price tag still stuck to the bottom. “Holy... that’s more than my entire hair care budget for a year!”

Shaking your head, you get to work. One by one, you empty out Carlos’ high-end products, replacing them with the cheap alternatives you bought. You’re careful to match shampoo for shampoo, conditioner for conditioner, making sure the consistencies are as close as possible.

As you work, you can’t help but imagine Carlos’ reaction tomorrow morning. Will his precious locks turn into a frizzy mess? Will his signature style fall flat? The thought makes you giggle.

“This is for Logan,” you remind yourself as you squeeze the last of a particularly goopy gel into its fancy counterpart’s bottle.

Just as you’re putting the finishing touches on your handiwork, you hear a key in the lock. Your heart leaps into your throat.

“Mierda,” you hear Carlos mutter from the other side of the door. “Where did I put that ...”

You freeze, panic setting in. You hadn’t planned on him coming back so soon. Thinking quickly, you gather up all the evidence of your presence – empty drugstore bottles, discarded packaging – and shove it into your bag.

The front door opens just as you’re zipping up your bag. You can hear Carlos humming to himself as he moves around the apartment. Holding your breath, you ease the bathroom door open a crack, peering out into the hallway.

Carlos is in the kitchen, his back to you as he rummages through the fridge. This is your chance. You slip out of the bathroom, tiptoeing towards the front door with the stealth of a cat burglar.

Just as your hand touches the doorknob, Carlos speaks. “Hello? Is someone there?”

You freeze, your heart pounding so loudly you’re sure he must be able to hear it. You hear his footsteps approaching and, in a moment of panic, you duck behind the coat rack by the door.

Carlos appears in the hallway, looking confused. “Huh, could have sworn I heard something.”

He’s close enough that you can smell his cologne — a spicy, woodsy scent that makes your head spin a little. You hold your breath, praying he doesn’t look too closely at the coat rack.

After what feels like an eternity, Carlos shrugs and turns back towards the kitchen. “Must be imagining things. Maybe I need an early night.”

As soon as he’s out of sight, you make your move. In one fluid motion, you slip out from behind the coat rack and out the front door, closing it as quietly as possible behind you.

You don’t stop running until you’re out of the building and halfway down the block. Only then do you allow yourself to breathe, leaning against a lamppost as you try to calm your racing heart.

“That,” you gasp between breaths, “was way too close.”

But as the adrenaline starts to fade, a giddy excitement takes its place. You did it. Operation Humble Carlos, phase two, is complete. Now all that’s left is to wait and see the results.

As you make your way home, you can’t help but wonder what tomorrow will bring. Will Carlos notice the difference in his hair? Will the promotional photos be a disaster? The possibilities are endless, and you find yourself grinning at the thought.

“Sweet dreams, Carlos,” you murmur as you unlock your own front door. “Tomorrow’s going to be a bad hair day.”

***

Carlos arrives at the Williams factory, his stomach in knots. He’s been dreading this moment since he woke up this morning to find his usually luscious locks in a state of utter disarray. No amount of styling or product seemed to help — if anything, each attempt only made things worse.

As he walks into the building, cap pulled low over his eyes, he can’t shake the feeling that something is terribly wrong. His hair has never betrayed him like this before, not even on the most humid race days.

“Carlos! There you are,” James greets him with a warm smile. “We were starting to worry you’d gotten lost.”

Carlos forces a laugh, trying to appear at ease. “Lo siento, just a bit of traffic. You know how it is.”

James nods sympathetically. “Of course, of course. Well, the photography team is all set up in the main conference room. Shall we?”

As they walk, Carlos can’t help but scan the hallways, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Despite the cake incident and his current hair crisis, he finds himself inexplicably drawn to you. There’s something about your mischievous smile that both intrigues and unnerves him.

The conference room is a hive of activity when they enter. Lights are being adjusted, backdrops shifted, and various team personnel mill about in their crisp uniforms. In the center of it all stands the photographer, a petite woman with a no-nonsense air about her.

“Ah, there’s our star!” She exclaims upon seeing Carlos. “I’m Lisa, I’ll be shooting you today. Let’s get you to hair and makeup, shall we?”

Carlos feels a wave of panic. “Ah, actually, I was thinking ... perhaps we could do some shots with the cap? You know, for a more casual look?”

Lisa frowns. “That wasn’t in the brief. We need clean, professional shots for the team profiles.”

“I know, I know,” Carlos says quickly. “But maybe just a few? For social media or something?”

Before Lisa can respond, a familiar voice cuts through the room. “Oh, come now, Carlos. You can’t hide that famous hair of yours.”

Carlos turns to see you sauntering towards him, a playful smirk on your lips. His heart does a little flip, even as alarm bells ring in his head.

“Y/N,” he greets you, trying to keep his voice steady. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You shrug, your eyes twinkling with barely contained mischief. “Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for the world. I’m quite interested in seeing how you ... present yourself to the team.”

There’s something in your tone that makes Carlos wonder, not for the first time, if you might have something to do with his current predicament. But surely not. How could you possibly have tampered with his hair products?

“Well,” Lisa interjects, clearly growing impatient, “cap or no cap, we need to get started. Carlos, if you could please take a seat in the makeup chair?”

Carlos hesitates, his hand unconsciously moving to adjust his cap. “I ... I’m not sure that’s necessary. I did my own styling this morning.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Did you now? Well, don’t keep us in suspense, Smooth Operator. Let’s see this expert styling of yours.”

The room has gone quiet, all eyes on Carlos. He can feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he weighs his options. Finally, with a resigned sigh, he slowly removes his cap.

There’s a collective gasp from the room. Carlos squeezes his eyes shut, not wanting to see the looks of horror he’s sure are on everyone’s faces.

“Oh my,” he hears Lisa mutter.

“Carlos,” James says gently, “is everything alright?”

Carlos opens his eyes, forcing himself to face the room. “I ... I don’t know what happened. I used my usual products this morning, but ...”

His voice trails off as he catches sight of his reflection in a nearby mirror. His normally sleek, perfectly coiffed hair is a disaster. It’s frizzy and dull, sticking out at odd angles and looking more like a bird’s nest than anything resembling a hairstyle.

“Well,” you say, barely containing your laughter, “I suppose this gives new meaning to bed head, doesn’t it?”

Carlos turns to you, a mix of embarrassment and suspicion coloring his cheeks. “This isn’t funny, Y/N. I look ridiculous.”

You put on an exaggerated pout. “Aw, come now, Carlos. I think it’s rather ... charming. Very avant-garde. You could start a new trend.”

Despite his predicament, Carlos finds himself fighting back a smile. There’s something about your teasing that he can’t help but find endearing, even if he’s fairly certain you’re somehow behind this catastrophe.

“Right,” Lisa says, clapping her hands together. “Well, we can work with this. Margie, bring out the heavy-duty products. We’ve got some ... taming to do.”

As the makeup artist approaches with an array of styling tools, Carlos braces himself for what’s sure to be an uncomfortable experience. To his surprise, you pull up a chair next to him.

“Mind if I stay and watch the transformation?” You ask innocently. “I’m always fascinated by the magic of Hollywood-style makeovers.”

Carlos narrows his eyes at you. “Why do I get the feeling you’re enjoying this a little too much?”

You gasp dramatically, placing a hand over your heart. “Me? Enjoy your discomfort? I would never.”

Despite everything, Carlos finds himself chuckling. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told,” you reply with a wink.

As Margie gets to work on Carlos’ hair, applying what seems like gallons of product and wielding a comb like a weapon, you keep up a steady stream of chatter. You ask about his move to England, his first impressions of the team, his hopes for the upcoming season. Despite his initial wariness, Carlos finds himself relaxing, drawn into easy conversation with you.

“You know,” he says during a brief lull while Margie fetches more hairspray, “for someone who seems intent on making my life difficult, you’re surprisingly easy to talk to.”

You tilt your head, a small smile playing at your lips. “Who says I’m trying to make your life difficult?”

Carlos raises an eyebrow. “The cake? This hair situation? I may be new here, but I’m not stupid.”

You lean in close, your voice dropping to a whisper. “Maybe I just like seeing you a little ... ruffled.”

Carlos’ breath catches in his throat at your proximity. He’s suddenly very aware of the subtle floral scent of your perfume, the way your eyes seem to sparkle with hidden laughter.

“There!” Margie announces triumphantly, breaking the moment. “I think we’ve salvaged it.”

Carlos turns to the mirror, bracing himself. To his immense relief, his hair looks ... well, not perfect, but certainly presentable. It’s styled in a slightly messier way than he usually wears it, but it works.

“What do you think?” He asks, turning to you.

You study him for a moment, your expression unreadable. Then, to his surprise, you reach out and gently brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

“Not bad,” you say softly. “But I think I preferred the bird’s nest.”

With that, you stand up and saunter away, leaving Carlos staring after you with a mixture of confusion and intrigue.

“Alright,” Lisa calls. “Let’s get you in front of the camera.”

As Carlos takes his place in front of the backdrop, his mind is racing. He’s still not sure what game you’re playing, but he’s becoming increasingly certain that he wants to be a part of it. There’s something about you that draws him in, despite (or perhaps because of) your apparent determination to keep him on his toes.

“Smile!” Lisa instructs, and Carlos obliges, flashing his most charming grin at the camera.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots you watching from the sidelines, that ever-present mischievous smirk on your face. As the camera flashes, Carlos makes a silent vow to himself. He’s going to figure you out, Y/N Vowles, no matter what it takes.

***

The Australian sun beats down mercilessly on the Albert Park Circuit as Carlos leans against the wall of the Williams garage, his eyes fixed on the screens displaying telemetry data from Alex’s current lap. It’s the first day of preseason testing, and while Carlos is eager to get behind the wheel himself, he knows his turn won’t come until the afternoon session.

A familiar voice cuts through his thoughts. “Well, well, if it isn’t our resident Spaniard. Enjoying the view?”

Carlos turns to see you approaching, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. Despite his best efforts to remain wary after the hair incident, he can’t help the small smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth.

“Y/N,” he greets you, trying to keep his tone neutral. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You shrug, coming to stand beside him. “Oh, you know me. I like to keep an eye on things. Make sure everything’s running smoothly.”

Carlos raises an eyebrow. “Is that so? And here I thought you might be here to cause more mischief.”

You gasp in mock offense. “Mischief? Me? I’m wounded, Carlos. Truly wounded.”

He can’t help but chuckle. “Forgive me if I find that hard to believe after the cake incident. And the hair fiasco.”

“Pure coincidence,” you say airily, waving a hand. “I can’t be held responsible for your sensitive taste buds or your apparent allergic reaction to ... whatever hair products you used that day.”

Carlos narrows his eyes, studying your face for any sign of guilt. But your expression remains innocently neutral, save for that ever-present glint of mischief in your eyes.

“Right,” he says slowly. “Coincidence. Of course.”

You lean in closer, lowering your voice conspiratorially. “You know, Carlos, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were becoming a bit paranoid. Seeing sabotage around every corner. That can’t be healthy.”

Carlos feels his pulse quicken at your proximity. Despite his suspicions, he can’t deny the effect you have on him. “Perhaps I have good reason to be cautious, no?”

You pull back, laughing. “Oh, lighten up, Chili. I’m just trying to keep things interesting around here. You wouldn’t want to be bored during your first season with us, would you?”

Before Carlos can respond, a cheer goes up from the garage as Alex completes another fast lap. You both turn to watch the screens, momentarily distracted by the flurry of activity.

“He’s doing well,” Carlos comments, genuinely impressed by the times he’s seeing.

You nod, a hint of pride in your voice. “Alex is a fantastic driver. You’ve got some big shoes to fill, you know.”

There’s an edge to your words that makes Carlos wonder, not for the first time, about your relationship with the team’s previous driver. He’s heard rumors about your close friendship with Logan Sargeant, the man he replaced.

“I intend to do my best,” Carlos says carefully. “For the team, and for myself.”

You turn to face him, your expression unreadable. “I’m sure you will. Just remember, Carlos, this isn’t just any team. It’s a family. And family ... well, family looks out for each other.”

There’s a weight to your words that Carlos can’t quite decipher. Are you warning him? Threatening him? Or simply stating a fact?

Before he can ponder it further, you abruptly change the subject. “Oh, did you happen to see that article I was reading earlier? Fascinating stuff.”

Carlos blinks at the sudden shift. “Article? What article?”

You pull out your phone, scrolling through it with a look of concentration. “It was about recent medical findings. Quite eye-opening, really. Did you know that having your appendix removed has been shown to shorten your life expectancy?”

Carlos feels a chill run down his spine. “What? That ... that can’t be right.”

You nod solemnly. “Oh yes, it’s all here in black and white. Apparently, the appendix plays a more crucial role in our overall health than previously thought. Something about gut bacteria and immune system function. People who’ve had appendectomies are at higher risk for all sorts of health issues later in life.”

Carlos’ mind is racing. He had his appendix removed just last year after a sudden, severe case of appendicitis. At the time, he’d been told it was a routine procedure with no long-term consequences.

“Can I ... can I see that article?” He asks, trying to keep his voice steady.

You look up from your phone, a look of concern crossing your face. “Oh, Carlos, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot about your surgery last year. How insensitive of me to bring this up.”

Carlos shakes his head, reaching for the phone. “No, it’s fine. I just want to read it for myself.”

But you’ve already tucked the phone away. “You know what? Let’s not dwell on it. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. These studies are always changing, right? One day something’s bad for you, the next it’s a superfood.”

Carlos frowns, a nagging suspicion growing in the back of his mind. “Y/N, why did you really bring this up?”

You blink innocently. “Bring what up? Oh, the article? Like I said, I just found it interesting. No ulterior motive, I assure you.”

But there’s a glint in your eye that tells Carlos otherwise. He takes a step closer, his voice low. “Is this another one of your games? Are you trying to get in my head before the testing session?”

You hold his gaze, a small smile playing at the corners of your mouth. “Now why would I do something like that? I’m just making conversation. Keeping you company during what must be a very boring morning for you.”

Carlos runs a hand through his hair, frustration and confusion warring within him. “I don’t understand you. One moment you’re friendly, the next you’re ... what? Trying to sabotage me? Scare me? What’s your endgame here?”

Your expression softens slightly. “Oh, Carlos. Not everything has to have an endgame. Sometimes life is just ... interesting. Don’t you think?”

Before he can respond, a commotion from the pit lane draws both of your attention. Alex’s car is being wheeled back into the garage, signaling the end of his morning session.

“Well,” you say brightly, “looks like it’s almost your turn. Better get ready, Chili. Wouldn’t want any ... distractions affecting your performance, would we?”

With that, you turn on your heel and saunter away, leaving Carlos staring after you with a mixture of frustration and intrigue.

As he watches you disappear into the crowd of team personnel, Carlos can’t shake the feeling that he’s just been played. Again. But instead of anger, he feels a strange sense of ... excitement? Challenge?

“Two can play at this game, Y/N,” he mutters to himself as he heads towards the locker room to change into his racing suit. “Two can play at this game.”

As he prepares for his testing session, Carlos finds his mind drifting back to your conversation. He knows he should be focused on the task at hand, on the data he needs to gather for the team. But he can’t help but wonder what your next move will be. And, more importantly, how he’ll respond.

For the first time since joining Williams, Carlos feels truly alive. The racing, the competition, it all pales in comparison to the intricate dance he seems to be engaged in with you. It’s dangerous, he knows. You’re a distraction he can’t afford. And yet ...

As he climbs into the cockpit of his car, helmet in hand, Carlos makes a decision. He’s going to solve the puzzle that is Y/N Vowles. He’s going to figure out your game, your motivations, your secrets. And when he does ...

Well, that’s when the real fun will begin.

With a grin hidden behind his visor, Carlos starts the engine. The roar drowns out all other thoughts, leaving only the track ahead and the challenge that awaits. Both on the circuit and off.

***

Carlos strolls down the plush carpeted hallway of the hotel, his mind still buzzing from the day’s testing session. The scent of leather and polished wood fills the air, a stark contrast to the oil and rubber smells he’s grown accustomed to at the track. As he approaches his room, a familiar voice catches his attention.

He pauses, realizing the sound is coming from your room, just a few doors down from his own. Carlos hesitates, knowing he shouldn’t eavesdrop, but curiosity gets the better of him. He takes a few quiet steps closer, straining to make out the words.

“... miss you too, Logie,” he hears you say, your voice muffled but unmistakable. “It’s not the same around here without you.”

Carlos’ eyebrows shoot up. Logie? As in Logan Sargeant? Intrigued, he moves closer, pressing his ear gently against the door.

A male voice responds, tinny and distant — likely on speakerphone. “I know, Y/N. But hey, at least you’re keeping busy, right? How’s Operation Torment Carlos going?”

Carlos feels his pulse quicken. So he was right — you have been deliberately messing with him.

He hears you laugh, a sound that sends an involuntary shiver down his spine despite the circumstances. “Oh, it’s going splendidly. You should have seen his face when he took off that cap at the photoshoot. Priceless!”

“Y/N,” Logan’s voice carries a note of concern. “Don’t you think maybe you’re taking this a bit too far? I mean, it’s not really Carlos’ fault that Williams decided to-”

“Shh,” you interrupt. “We don’t say that name around here, remember? And besides, I made a promise. A pinky promise, Logan. Those are sacred.”

Carlos leans in closer, his ear practically glued to the door now. A promise? What kind of promise?

Logan sighs audibly. “I know, I know. But seriously, Y/N, you need to be careful. If your dad finds out-”

“He won’t,” you say confidently. “Trust me, I’ve got this under control. Carlos doesn’t suspect a thing.”

Carlos has to stifle a snort at that. If only you knew.

“Speaking of control,” Logan’s voice turns playful, “when are you going to get that under control and come visit me? It’s not the same without my number one fan cheering me on.”

There’s a pause, and Carlos can almost picture the soft smile he imagines is on your face. “Soon, I promise. Things are just ... complicated right now. With Dad, and the team, and ... everything.”

“Y/N,” Logan’s voice softens. “You know you don’t have to stay there for me, right? I’m okay. Really.”

“I know,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I want to. For you, for the team ... for myself.”

Carlos feels a pang in his chest at the emotion in your voice. He’s starting to realize there’s a lot more going on here than he initially thought.

“Well,” Logan says after a moment, “whenever you’re ready, there’s always a place for you here. The house is all set up, and I know a great little taco place that-”

“Logan Sargeant,” you interrupt with a laugh. “Are you trying to bribe me with tacos?”

“Is it working?”

“... maybe a little.”

Carlos finds himself smiling despite the situation. The easy banter between you and Logan reminds him of conversations with his own close friends.

“Seriously though,” Logan continues, “how are you holding up? Really?”

There’s a long pause before you answer. “I’m ... okay. It’s strange, you know? Everything’s the same, but different. The garage doesn’t feel right without you there.”

“Y/N ...”

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine. I just ... I miss my best friend.”

The raw honesty in your voice makes Carlos feel like he’s intruding on something deeply personal. He knows he should walk away, but he can’t seem to make his feet move.

Logan clears his throat. “I miss you too. More than you know. But hey, we’re making it work, right? Long-distance at its finest.”

You laugh, but it sounds a bit watery to Carlos’ ears. “Right. Absolutely killing it.”

“Speaking of killing it,” Logan says, his tone turning serious. “Y/N, about this whole revenge thing ...”

“Logan, don’t start-”

“No, listen to me. I get it, okay? I do. You’re angry and hurt, and you want someone to blame. But Carlos ... he’s just doing his job. He didn’t ask for any of this.”

Carlos finds himself holding his breath, waiting for your response.

“I know that,” you say softly. “Logically, I know that. But when I see him in the garage, in your driver’s room, talking to your engineers ... it just hurts. And I don’t know how else to deal with it.”

“By talking to me,” Logan says gently. “By letting yourself feel it instead of bottling it up and taking it out on some poor, unsuspecting Spaniard.”

You snort. “Poor? Have you seen him? Nothing poor about that man.”

“Y/N,” Logan’s voice carries a warning tone, but there’s amusement there too. “Focus.”

“Right, right. No objectifying the enemy. Got it.”

Carlos feels his cheeks heat up at your words. He shakes his head, trying to refocus on the conversation.

“Look,” Logan continues, “all I’m saying is ... maybe give the guy a chance? Who knows, you might even like him if you stop trying to make his life miserable.”

There’s a long pause, and Carlos finds himself leaning even closer to the door, desperate to hear your response.

“I ... I’ll think about it,” you finally say. “But no promises. Well, except the pinky one. That still stands.”

Logan groans. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“It’s part of my charm,” you reply cheekily.

As the conversation drifts to lighter topics, Carlos slowly backs away from the door, his mind reeling from everything he’s heard. He makes his way back to his own room in a daze, collapsing onto the bed as soon as he’s inside.

Carlos stares up at the ceiling, trying to process it all. You’re not just messing with him for fun — this is about loyalty, about friendship, about dealing with a loss. He thinks back to all your interactions, seeing them in a new light now.

Part of him wants to be angry. After all, you’ve been deliberately sabotaging him, making his transition to the team more difficult than it needed to be. But another part ... another part understands. He thinks about how he felt when he was in Logan’s position, when he had been dropped from his dream team and replaced. Wouldn’t he have wanted a friend like you in his corner?

Carlos sits up, running a hand through his hair as he comes to a decision. He can’t pretend he didn’t hear what he heard. But he also can’t confront you directly — that would only make things worse. No, he needs to be smarter about this.

A slow smile spreads across his face as an idea forms. If you want to play games, he’ll play. But he’ll play by his own rules.

As he starts to plan, Carlos can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement in his stomach. This season is shaping up to be far more interesting than he ever could have imagined. And if he’s being honest with himself, he’s looking forward to every moment of it.

***

Carlos strides into the Williams motorhome, a determined gleam in his eye. It’s been two weeks since he overheard your conversation with Logan, and he’s been on a mission ever since. Operation Charm Y/N is in full swing, and Carlos is pulling out all the stops.

As he enters the main area, he spots you chatting with one of the engineers. Your eyes flick towards him, and he flashes his most dazzling smile.

“Buenos días, Y/N!” He calls out cheerfully. “You’re looking radiant as always. Is that a new hairstyle?”

You blink, clearly caught off guard by his enthusiasm. “Uh, no? It’s the same as always.”

He chuckles, stepping closer. “Well, it must be the lighting then. It makes your eyes sparkle beautifully.”

A faint blush creeps across your cheeks, and Carlos feels a surge of triumph. Progress.

“Right,” you say slowly. “Thanks, I guess. Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your interviews?”

Carlos waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, there’s always time for a chat with my favorite team member. How are you finding the track so far? I’d love to hear your thoughts.”

You narrow your eyes suspiciously. “Since when do you care about my thoughts on the track?”

“Since always!” Carlos exclaims, feigning hurt. “Your insights are invaluable, Y/N. I hang on your every word.”

You snort, but Carlos doesn’t miss the way the corners of your mouth twitch upwards. “Now I know you’re full of it, Sainz. What’s your game here?”

Carlos puts on his most innocent expression. “Game? There’s no game. Can’t a guy just appreciate his talented and beautiful colleague?”

Your eyes widen slightly at the compliment, and for a moment, Carlos thinks he might have pushed too far. But then you shake your head, a reluctant smile forming.

“You’re ridiculous,” you mutter, but there’s no real heat in your words.

As you turn to walk away, Carlos notices your gaze lingering on the water bottle in his hand. It’s just for a split second, but it’s enough to raise his suspicions. He glances down at the bottle, wondering if you’ve tampered with it somehow.

Determined not to let on that he’s onto you, Carlos keeps up his charm offensive throughout the day. During interviews, he makes sure to mention how wonderful the entire Williams team is, singling you out for special praise whenever he can.

“Oh yes, Y/N Vowles is an absolute gem,” he tells one reporter with a wink. “The heart and soul of Williams, if you ask me. We’re lucky to have her.”

From across the room, he sees you stiffen at his words, a mix of confusion and guilt flashing across your face.

As the day wears on, Carlos notices you becoming increasingly agitated. Your eyes keep darting to his water bottle, and you seem to flinch every time he reaches for it. He makes a show of almost drinking from it several times, watching your reaction carefully.

Finally, during a brief break between interviews, Carlos decides to force the issue. He picks up the bottle, slowly bringing the straw to his lips while maintaining eye contact with you.

Your eyes widen in panic. “Carlos, wait!”

Before he can react, you’re across the room, knocking the bottle out of his hands. It clatters to the floor, spilling water everywhere.

“I ... I’m so sorry,” you stammer, your face flushed with embarrassment. “I just ... I saw a bee! It was about to land on your bottle. Wouldn’t want you to get stung, you know? Allergies and all that.”

Carlos raises an eyebrow. “A bee? Inside the motorhome?”

“Yes!” You exclaim, a bit too enthusiastically. “Must have snuck in somehow. Crafty little things, bees. Anyway, I should go ... get a mop. For the water. Sorry again!”

With that, you turn and practically run from the room, leaving Carlos staring after you in bemusement.

“Well,” he murmurs to himself, “that was certainly interesting.”

As the day winds down, Carlos finds himself lost in thought. Your reaction to the water bottle incident was telling, but he can’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment. He had hoped his charm offensive might have started to break through your defenses.

Sighing, he gathers his things and heads for the exit. As he approaches the door, he hears a rustling sound coming from around the corner. Curiosity piqued, he peeks around the edge of the motorhome.

There you are, glancing furtively around as you try to shove something into a nearby trash can. Carlos squints, just barely making out the label on the package you’re attempting to dispose of.

Laxatives.

He has to stifle a laugh. So that was your plan. It’s juvenile, sure, but he has to admire your commitment to the bit.

Deciding to seize the moment, Carlos steps out from his hiding spot. “Fancy meeting you here. Doing a bit of spring cleaning?”

You jump, nearly dropping the package. “Carlos! I ... this isn’t what it looks like.”

He steps closer, his voice gentle. “No? Because it looks like you’re trying to get rid of evidence.”

Your shoulders slump in defeat. “I ... I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. It was stupid and childish and-”

“And exactly the kind of thing I would have done in your position,” Carlos interrupts, surprising both you and himself with his honesty.

You look up at him, confusion written across your face. “What?”

Carlos sighs, leaning against the wall of the motorhome. “Look, Y/N. I know about the promise you made to Logan. I ... may have overheard a conversation you had with him a couple of weeks ago.”

Your eyes widen in shock. “You ... you were eavesdropping?”

“Not intentionally,” he says quickly. “But yes, I heard enough to understand why you’ve been ... let’s say, less than welcoming.”

You cross your arms, a defensive posture. “So what, you’ve been playing nice to try and manipulate me? To get me to stop?”

Carlos shakes his head. “No, not manipulate. I just ... I wanted to show you that I’m not the enemy here. That maybe we could be friends, or at least friendly colleagues.”

There’s a long pause as you process his words. Finally, you speak, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know if I can do that, Carlos. Logan, he’s ... he’s my best friend. And seeing you here, in his place ...”

“I understand,” Carlos says softly. “Really, I do. But Y/N, don’t you think Logan would want you to be happy? To enjoy your work, to make new friends?”

You bite your lip, considering. “Maybe. But the promise ...”

Carlos can’t help but chuckle. “Ah yes, the sacred pinky promise. Well, how about this — instead of making my life a living hell, why don’t you promise to make it ... interesting?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Interesting how?”

“Challenge me,” Carlos suggests, warming to the idea. “Push me to be better, on and off the track. Keep me on my toes. But maybe without the laxatives, sí?”

A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. “I suppose that could work. But don’t think this means I’m going to go easy on you, Sainz.”

Carlos grins, holding out his hand. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Vowles. Do we have a deal?”

You eye his hand warily for a moment before reaching out to shake it. “Deal. But I’m warning you, I can be a real pain in the ass when I want to be.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” Carlos laughs. “Now, what do you say we get rid of this evidence properly and grab a coffee? I have a feeling we have a lot to talk about.”

As you both head towards the nearest café, Carlos can’t help but feel a sense of excitement. He may have won this battle, but he has a feeling the war is far from over. And honestly? He wouldn’t have it any other way.

***

Carlos pushes open the door of the quaint coffee shop, holding it for you as you follow him inside. The rich aroma of freshly ground beans fills the air, and the soft chatter of other patrons creates a cozy atmosphere.

As you both approach the counter, Carlos gestures towards the menu board. “Order whatever you like. It’s on me.”

You raise an eyebrow, a hint of your usual mischief returning to your eyes. “Oh? And what makes you think I can’t pay for my own coffee?”

Carlos grins, enjoying this glimpse of your feisty side. “Consider it a peace offering. Or reparations for all the grey hairs you’ve given me these past few months.”

You snort, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Fine. But don’t think this means you’re off the hook.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Carlos chuckles.

After placing your orders — a latte for you and an americano for Carlos — you both find a secluded table near the back of the shop. As you settle into your seats, an awkward silence falls between you.

Carlos takes a sip of his coffee, studying you over the rim of his cup. Now that he’s finally got you alone, without the pretenses and the pranks, he’s not quite sure where to start.

You break the silence first, your voice uncharacteristically hesitant. “So ... you said you overheard my conversation with Logan?”

Carlos nods, setting his cup down. “Sí. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but ... well, I heard enough to understand why you’ve been, shall we say, less than welcoming.”

You wince slightly. “Yeah, about that ... I may have gone a bit overboard.”

“A bit?” Carlos raises an eyebrow, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Y/N, you tried to give me laxatives.”

You have the grace to look embarrassed, a faint blush coloring your cheeks. “Okay, more than a bit. I’m sorry, Carlos. Really.”

He waves off your apology. “Water under the bridge. Or should I say, laxatives down the drain?”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

“Not a chance,” Carlos grins. Then, his expression softens. “But in all seriousness, Y/N ... I get it. I do. Logan is your friend, and seeing me here instead of him ... it can’t be easy.”

You look up, meeting his gaze. There’s a vulnerability in your eyes that Carlos hasn’t seen before. “It’s not just that. I mean, yes, I miss Logan terribly. But it’s also ... this team, it’s like family to me. And seeing someone new come in, someone who didn’t grow up with all of us ... I guess I felt threatened.”

Carlos leans forward, his elbows on the table. “Can I ask you something?”

You nod, wrapping your hands around your coffee cup as if seeking comfort from its warmth.

“Why the elaborate schemes?” Carlos asks. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, they were ... creative. But why not just tell me how you felt?”

You let out a long sigh, your fingers tracing patterns on the side of your cup. “Honestly? I’m not entirely sure. I guess ... growing up in this world, you learn to play games. To never show your true feelings because they might be used against you.”

Carlos tilts his head, intrigued. “What do you mean, growing up in this world?”

A wry smile crosses your face. “Carlos, my dad is James Vowles. I practically grew up in the Mercedes garage during the Brocedes era. You think I didn’t pick up a few things watching Lewis and Nico go at it?”

Carlos’ eyes widen in realization. “The mind games.”

You nod. “Exactly. I saw firsthand how effective they could be. How a well-placed comment or a seemingly innocent action could throw someone completely off their game. I guess ... I guess part of me thought that if I could do the same to you, maybe ...”

“Maybe I’d leave?” Carlos finishes softly.

You look down, guilt written across your face. “Maybe. Or at least ... I don’t know. Maybe I thought if I could prove you weren’t up to the challenge, Dad would reconsider his decision.”

Carlos reaches across the table, gently placing his hand over yours. “Y/N, look at me.”

Reluctantly, you raise your eyes to meet his.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says firmly. “Not unless the team decides I’m not good enough. And if that happens, it’ll be because of my performance on the track, not because of any mind games.”

You nod slowly, a small smile forming. “I know that now. And for what it’s worth, I’m glad. You’re ... you’re good for the team. I can see that now.”

Carlos feels a warmth spread through his chest at your words. “Thank you. That means a lot, coming from you.”

You pull your hand away, but the smile remains. “Don’t let it go to your head, Sainz. I still think Logan’s better.”

“You know,” Carlos draws out, “I’m glad we did this. Cleared the air.”

You nod, your expression turning serious. “Me too. And Carlos ... I really am sorry for all the trouble I caused. It wasn’t fair to you.”

Carlos shrugs. “Like I said, water under the bridge. Or should I say, hair products in the bin?”

Your jaw drops. “How did you know about that?”

He winks. “I didn’t. But thanks for confirming my suspicions.”

You groan, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. “I’ve created a monster, haven’t I?”

“Oh, hermosa,” Carlos grins, “you have no idea.”

***

Carlos stands in front of your hotel room door, his heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. In one hand, he clutches a bouquet of flowers so large it partially obscures his vision. In the other, he holds the key card you had given him just a few days ago, a symbol of the trust that has grown between you.

He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he’s about to do. Over the past few months, your relationship has evolved from antagonistic to friendly to ... something more. Carlos can no longer deny the feelings that have been growing inside him. Tonight, he’s finally gathered the courage to ask you out on a proper date.

With one final steadying breath, he raises his hand and knocks on the door. “Y/N? Are you there?”

Silence greets him. He waits a moment, then knocks again, louder this time. “Y/N? It’s Carlos. I was hoping we could talk.”

Still no answer. Carlos frowns, a tendril of worry creeping into his mind. It’s not like you to ignore him, especially not after the closeness you’ve developed.

“Maybe she’s in the shower,” he mutters to himself, trying to quell his rising anxiety.

He debates waiting, but something urges him to check on you. After all, you did give him the key card for emergencies. This isn’t exactly an emergency, but ...

Before he can talk himself out of it, Carlos swipes the card and pushes the door open. “Y/N? I’m sorry for barging in, but I was worried when you didn’t ...”

His voice trails off as he takes in the scene before him. The flowers fall from his suddenly numb fingers, scattering across the floor.

There you are, on the bed, but you’re not alone. Carlos’ predecessor at Williams is there with you. The two of you are tangled together in a way that leaves little doubt about the nature of your relationship.

For a moment, time seems to stand still. Carlos blinks rapidly, his brain struggling to process what he’s seeing. You and Logan stare back at him, equally frozen in shock.

Logan recovers first, quickly pulling away from you and tugging a sheet over himself. “Carlos! What the hell, man?”

You sit up, clutching a pillow to your chest, your face a mix of embarrassment and guilt. “Carlos, I ... we can explain.”

Carlos opens his mouth, then closes it again. A thousand thoughts race through his mind, but the one that finally makes it to his lips surprises even him.

“Can I join?”

The words hang in the air, heavy with implications. Carlos immediately wants to take them back, to pretend he never said them. But a small part of him, the part that’s been drawn to both you and Logan in ways he’s never fully understood, holds its breath in anticipation.

Your eyes widen in shock. “What?”

Logan looks between you and Carlos, his expression unreadable. “Dude, are you serious?”

Carlos runs a hand through his hair, his cheeks burning. “I ... I don’t know. Maybe? I mean, I came here to ask Y/N out, but seeing you both ... I can’t deny there’s something there.”

You exchange a look with Logan, having one of those silent conversations that only people who know each other intimately can have. After a moment, you turn back to Carlos.

“Carlos,” you say gently, “I think we all need to take a step back and talk about this. Properly. When we’re all ... dressed.”

Carlos nods, feeling slightly dazed. “Right. Yes. Of course. I’ll just ... I’ll wait outside.”

He turns to leave, but Logan’s voice stops him. “Wait. Carlos, man ... I’m sorry. We should have told you.”

Carlos looks back, meeting Logan’s gaze. There’s genuine regret in the American’s eyes, and Carlos feels some of his hurt and confusion start to dissipate.

“It’s okay,” he says, surprised to find he means it. “We all have our secrets, no?”

You slide off the bed, wrapping yourself in the hotel robe. “Carlos, please don’t go. Stay. We should talk about this.”

Carlos hesitates, his hand on the doorknob. Part of him wants to run, to pretend this never happened. But a larger part, the part that’s grown to care deeply for both you and Logan, makes him turn back.

“Okay,” he says softly. “Let’s talk.”

You gesture to the small sitting area in the corner of the room. “Why don’t you sit down? Logan and I will get dressed, and then we can figure this out together.”

Carlos nods, moving to the armchair as you and Logan disappear into the bathroom. He sits there, staring at the scattered flowers on the floor, trying to make sense of his swirling emotions.

A few minutes later, you both emerge, fully dressed but with an air of awkwardness that wasn’t there before. Logan takes a seat on the small sofa, while you perch on the arm, creating a triangle between the three of you.

“So,” you begin, your voice tentative. “I guess we have a lot to talk about.”

Carlos nods, his eyes moving between you and Logan. “How long has this been going on?”

Logan clears his throat. “A while. Since right before I left Williams, actually. We just ... we didn’t know how to tell anyone.”

“I see,” Carlos says, a hint of hurt creeping into his voice. “And all those times you were talking about missing each other ...”

You reach out, as if to touch Carlos’ hand, but stop yourself. “That was real. We do miss each other. But it’s ... complicated.”

“Complicated,” Carlos repeats. “Is that why you were so hostile towards me at first? Because I was taking Logan’s place in more ways than one?”

You wince at his words. “Partly, yes. But Carlos, you have to understand, it wasn’t just about that. I really did feel protective of the team, of Logan’s place there.”

Logan puts a hand on your arm, a gesture of support. “Y/N, it’s okay. He deserves the truth.”

You take a deep breath, looking Carlos directly in the eye. “The truth is, Carlos, I started developing feelings for you too. And that ... that scared me. I felt guilty, like I was betraying Logan. So I lashed out.”

Carlos’ breath catches in his throat. “You have feelings for me?”

You nod, a small smile playing at your lips. “Why do you think I gave you that key card?”

Logan chuckles softly. “I told her she was being too subtle. Should have just asked you out like a normal person.”

Carlos looks at Logan, curiosity overriding his confusion. “And you’re ... okay with this?”

Logan shrugs, a wry smile on his face. “Honestly? I don’t know. But I know how Y/N feels about you, and ... well, I can’t say I haven’t noticed you myself.”

Carlos feels his cheeks heat up at Logan’s words. “I ... I don’t know what to say.”

You slide off the arm of the sofa, kneeling in front of Carlos. “You don’t have to say anything right now. We sprung this on you, and it’s a lot to process. But Carlos, I want you to know that what I feel for you is real. And if you’re open to it ... maybe we can figure this out. All of us.”

Carlos looks between you and Logan, his mind racing. This isn’t at all how he expected this evening to go, but he can’t deny the thrill that runs through him at the possibility.

“I think,” he says slowly, “that I’d like that. To figure it out together, I mean.”

Logan grins, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Well, in that case, maybe we should start with dinner? I don’t know about you two, but I’m starving.”

You laugh, the sound breaking the remaining tension in the room. “Trust you to think with your stomach.”

Carlos finds himself smiling too. “Dinner sounds good. But maybe ... maybe we could stay in? Order room service?”

You and Logan exchange a look, then nod in unison. “Sounds perfect,” you say, squeezing Carlos’ hand.

As Logan reaches for the room service menu, and you start picking up the scattered flowers, arranging them in a water glass, Carlos feels a sense of rightness settle over him. This isn’t at all what he had planned, but somehow, it feels like exactly where he’s meant to be.

“Hey,” he says, catching both your attention. “Whatever happens ... I’m glad we’re figuring this out together.”

You and Logan smile back at him, and in that moment, Carlos knows that no matter how complicated things might get, you’re going to be okay. More than okay, actually. You’re going to be amazing.

***

The Williams garage buzzes with pre-race energy, mechanics scurrying about and engineers huddled over last-minute data. In their own bubble despite the controlled chaos, three figures stand slightly apart, heads bent close in hushed conversation.

Carlos glances around before leaning in closer to you and Logan. “Are we sure about this? It’s not too late to change our minds.”

You bite your lip, uncertainty clouding your features. “I don’t know. Maybe we should stick to the original plan. Logan’s just here as a friend, nothing more.”

Logan runs a hand through his hair, his brow furrowed. “It feels wrong, though. Hiding. Like we’re ashamed or something.”

“We’re not ashamed,” Carlos says quickly, his hand finding Logan’s and squeezing it reassuringly. “It’s just ... complicated.”

You nod, your eyes darting to where your father stands across the garage. “Dad’s going to freak out. And that’s putting it mildly.”

Logan follows your gaze, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “To be fair, I think he’d freak out no matter how we told him. Finding out your daughter is dating not one, but two drivers? That’s a lot for any father to handle.”

Carlos chuckles softly. “Not to mention one of those drivers is his current employee and the other is his former one. It’s like a telenovela.”

You swat his arm playfully. “This isn’t funny. We need to decide what we’re doing. The race starts in less than an hour.”

Logan takes a deep breath, his expression turning serious. “Look, whatever we decide, we’re in this together, right? All of us?”

You and Carlos nod in unison, and for a moment, the three of you just look at each other, drawing strength from your connection.

The moment is broken by the sharp voice of Carlos’ race engineer. “Carlos! We need you for final checks. Now!”

Carlos sighs, reluctantly pulling away from you and Logan. “I guess decision time is here, whether we’re ready or not.”

You reach out, straightening his race suit collar. “Just focus on the race, okay? We can figure everything else out later.”

Logan nods in agreement. “Yeah. Go out there and show them what you’ve got. We’ll be right here cheering you on.”

Carlos looks between the two of you, his eyes softening with emotion. “What did I do to deserve you both?”

Before you or Logan can respond, Carlos makes a split-second decision. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he pulls you close and kisses you deeply, right there in the middle of the garage.

You gasp against his lips, too shocked to pull away. Around you, the activity of the garage comes to a sudden halt, all eyes turning to witness the unexpected display.

But Carlos isn’t done. As he pulls back from you, he immediately turns to Logan, cupping the American’s face in his hands and kissing him with equal passion.

The garage, already silent, seems to hold its collective breath. You can practically hear the gears turning in everyone’s minds as they try to process what they’re seeing.

As Carlos finally steps back, a satisfied smirk on his face, the spell of silence is broken by a loud thud. All heads turn to see their team principal sprawled on the floor in a dead faint.

“Dad!” You cry out, rushing to his side.

Logan and Carlos exchange a panicked look before following you. As you kneel beside your unconscious father, the rest of the team seems to unfreeze, a flurry of whispers and movement erupting around you.

“Someone get the medic!” A voice calls out.

“Did ... did I just see what I think I saw?” Another mechanic mutters.

Logan kneels down next to you, concern etched on his face. “Is he okay?”

You nod, relief washing over you as your father starts to stir. “I think so. Just shocked, I guess.”

Carlos hovers nearby, looking both guilty and defiant. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause such a scene. I just ... I couldn’t stand the thought of hiding anymore.”

As James’ eyes flutter open, his gaze immediately locks onto the three of you. “Y/N? Logan? Carlos? What ... what’s going on?”

You take a deep breath, helping your father sit up. “We need to talk. But maybe not right here in the middle of the garage floor?”

James nods weakly, allowing Logan and Carlos to help him to his feet. As they guide him to a nearby chair, you can’t help but notice the mixture of confusion, shock, and curiosity on the faces of your coworkers.

Once your father is settled, he looks between the three of you, his expression a mix of bewilderment and dawning comprehension. “So, when you said Logan was coming to visit for the weekend ...”

You nod, taking both Carlos and Logan’s hands in your own. “It wasn’t just as a friend. The three of us ... we’re together. All of us.”

James blinks rapidly, as if trying to clear his vision. “Together? As in ...”

“As in dating,” Logan says, his voice steady despite the nervousness evident in his posture. “All three of us. We’ve been in a relationship for a few months now.”

Carlos nods, squeezing your hand. “We didn’t mean for you to find out like this. I got ... carried away. But we’re not ashamed of our relationship, and we don’t want to hide it anymore.”

James leans back in his chair, running a hand over his face. “I ... I don’t even know where to begin. Y/N, honey, are you sure about this?”

You meet your father’s gaze, your voice firm. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, Dad. I love them both. And they love me ... and each other.”

The garage around you is still unnaturally quiet, everyone straining to hear the conversation. You can practically feel the weight of their stares, but in this moment, all that matters is your father’s reaction.

James takes a deep breath, his eyes moving between the three of you. “This is ... a lot to process. But Y/N, if you’re happy ...”

You nod, a smile breaking across your face. “I am. We all are.”

James sighs, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “Well, I suppose I should be grateful. At least I don’t have to worry about you dating some playboy from another team.”

Logan chuckles softly. “No, just an IndyCar driver and your star employee.”

The tension in the air starts to dissipate as James shakes his head, a reluctant smile forming. “I have a feeling my life just got a whole lot more complicated.”

You lean down to hug your father tightly. “Thank you for understanding.”

As you straighten up, Carlos’ race engineer clears his throat loudly. “I hate to break up this ... touching moment, but we have a race to drive. Carlos, car. Now.”

Reality comes crashing back as you realize the race is mere minutes from starting. Carlos looks torn, clearly not wanting to leave in the middle of this pivotal moment.

You give him a gentle push towards his car. “Go. We’ll be right here when you finish.”

Logan nods in agreement. “Yeah, babe. Go show them what you’ve got.”

Carlos hesitates for just a moment before a determined look settles over his features. He leans in, placing a quick kiss on your cheek and another on Logan’s before turning to your father.

“James,” he says seriously. “I promise you, I will do everything in my power to make Y/N happy and to make this team proud.”

James nods, still looking slightly dazed. “Just ... just drive safe out there.”

As Carlos jogs towards his car, the garage seems to come back to life. Mechanics resume their tasks, albeit with frequent glances and whispers in your direction. You, Logan, and your father are left in a small bubble of calm amid the renewed chaos.

Logan clears his throat. “So ... I guess the cat’s out of the bag now, huh?”

You can’t help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation finally hitting you. “You could say that. I think we just gave the entire paddock enough gossip to last the rest of the season.”

James shakes his head, a mix of exasperation and amusement on his face. “You three certainly know how to make an announcement. I suppose I should be grateful you didn’t decide to share the news during a press conference.”

As the sound of engines roaring to life fills the air, you find yourself filled with a sense of lightness. The secret’s out, for better or worse, and now you can face whatever comes next together.

Logan puts an arm around your shoulders, and you lean into him, watching as Carlos’ car pulls out of the garage. “Well,” Logan says with a grin, “I guess there’s only one thing left to do now.”

You look up at him, raising an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

He winks, guiding you towards the spectator area. “Cheer our boy on, of course.”

***

Four Years Later

The late afternoon sun streams through the windows of the spacious living room, warming over the three occupants. You’re nestled comfortably on the couch, your hands resting on your swollen belly, a contented smile playing on your lips as you watch your two partners bicker good-naturedly.

Carlos paces back and forth, running his hands through his hair in mock distress. “I just can’t believe I didn’t think of this before. Our child, our beautiful baby, will be one-third American!”

Logan, sprawled in an armchair, grins widely. “And what’s wrong with that? Afraid our kid might actually develop some taste?”

You roll your eyes affectionately. “Boys, please. The baby can hear you, you know.”

Carlos stops his pacing, turning to you with wide eyes. “Exactly! We need to counteract this American influence immediately. Quick, where’s that Spanish lullaby CD my mother sent?”

Logan snorts. “Oh please, like that’ll do any good against the power of apple pie and freedom.”

“Apple pie?” Carlos scoffs. “Please. Our child will have a sophisticated palate. Paella, gazpacho, tortilla española-”

“Burgers, hot dogs, s’mores,” Logan counters, ticking off on his fingers.

You can’t help but laugh at their antics. “You do realize the baby will be more British than anything else, right? Given that I’m the one actually carrying it?”

Both men turn to look at you, identical expressions of horror on their faces.

“Dios mío,” Carlos whispers. “I didn’t even think of that.”

Logan nods solemnly. “We’re doomed. Our child is going to have terrible teeth and an unhealthy obsession with beans on toast.”

You throw a pillow at him, which he catches easily, laughing. “Watch it, Sargeant. This Brit is the mother of your child.”

Carlos flops down on the couch next to you, placing a gentle hand on your belly. “Don’t worry, mi amor. We’ll make sure our little one has the best of all worlds. The passion of Spain, the ... whatever it is Americans have-”

“Awesomeness,” Logan interjects.

“-and the ... charm of Britain,” Carlos finishes, winking at you.

You lean in to kiss him softly. “Nice save.”

Logan gets up from his chair, moving to sit on your other side. He places his hand next to Carlos’ on your belly. “Hey, little one. Don’t listen to your papa. He’s just jealous because he knows you’re going to prefer peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to croquetas.”

Carlos gasps in mock outrage. “Take that back!”

You groan, leaning back against the couch. “Oh god, is this what I have to look forward to for the rest of our lives?”

Both men turn to you with identical grins. “Absolutely,” they say in unison.

Despite your exasperated tone, you can’t help but smile. This is your family, quirks and all, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Suddenly, you feel a strong kick under your partners’ hands. Their eyes widen in surprise and delight.

“Did you feel that?” Logan asks excitedly.

Carlos nods, his eyes shining. “Sí, it was so strong! Our little footballer in the making.”

“You mean soccer player,” Logan adds with a smirk.

Carlos groans. “Por favor, not this again. It’s football, Logan. The rest of the world calls it football.”

“Yeah, well, the rest of the world is wrong,” Logan retorts, sticking out his tongue.

You shake your head, amused. “I swear, sometimes it’s like I have two children already.”

Both men have the grace to look slightly sheepish, but their hands remain on your belly, waiting for another kick.

“You know,” you say thoughtfully, “we still haven’t decided on a name.”

Carlos perks up. “I’ve been thinking about that! What about Carlos III for a boy?”

Logan wrinkles his nose. “Because the current two of you aren’t enough? What about something cool, like Maverick?”

“Maverick?” Carlos repeats incredulously. “What is this, Top Gun?”

“Hey, Top Gun is a classic!” Logan defends.

You clear your throat. “Gentlemen, might I remind you that I get veto power on all names?”

They both turn to you, curious. “What did you have in mind, babe?” Logan asks.

You smile mysteriously. “Oh, I have a few ideas. But I’m not sharing until you two can agree on at least one name together.”

Carlos and Logan exchange a look, a silent challenge passing between them.

“Fine,” Carlos says. “How about ... James? It’s a name that works in all our cultures, and it would be a nice nod to your father, Y/N.”

Logan nods slowly. “James ... I like it. Simple, classic. And we could call him Jamie for short.”

You feel a warmth spread through your chest. “James is perfect. Dad will be over the moon.”

“James it is then,” Carlos says with a soft smile. “For a boy, at least. What if it’s a girl?”

Logan’s eyes light up. “Oh! What about Liberty? You know, because-”

“Absolutely not,” you and Carlos say in unison.

Logan pouts. “You guys are no fun.”

Carlos chuckles, reaching across you to ruffle Logan’s hair. “Come on, querido. Surely you can think of something better than that.”

Logan leans into the touch, a thoughtful expression on his face. “How about ... Sophia? It’s pretty, and it works in all our languages.”

You nod approvingly. “Sophia is lovely. What do you think, Carlos?”

Carlos smiles. “Sophia is beautiful. Sophia Sainz-Sargeant-Vowles. It has a nice ring to it, no?”

“It’s a mouthful is what it is,” Logan chuckles. “But I love it.”

You feel another kick, stronger this time. “I think the baby approves too.”

Carlos leans down to speak directly to your belly. “Hello there, little one. Are you a James or a Sophia?”

Logan joins in, his voice taking on an exaggerated American accent. “Now listen here, kiddo. Whatever you are, just remember: you’ve got red, white, and blue running through your veins. USA! USA!”

Carlos groans, burying his face in your shoulder. “Dios mío, what have I gotten myself into?”

You laugh, running your fingers through his hair. “A lifetime of this, darling.”

As the sun begins to set, casting long shadows across the room, you find yourself filled with an overwhelming sense of love and contentment. This unconventional family of yours, with its mix of cultures and personalities, is everything you never knew you needed.

“Hey,” you say softly, drawing both men’s attention. “I love you both. So much. And this baby is going to be so loved, no matter what nationality they end up identifying with.”

Carlos and Logan’s faces soften, all traces of their playful argument disappearing.

“We love you too,” Carlos murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Logan nods, squeezing your hand. “More than anything. All three of you.”

As you sit there, sandwiched between the two men you love, their hands protectively cradling your unborn child, you know that whatever challenges lie ahead, you’ll face them together. Spanish passion, American spirit, and British charm — your child will have the best of all worlds, and a family full of love to support them every step of the way.

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vintagecandy · 3 months

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Now for the 1920s reimagining of Jonathan Crane ! sorry this explanation is even longer lmao

As everyone's been saying, I should do the rest of the Dork Squad to match 1920s Jervis, and so here is my Jonathan! Easily the hardest to draw out of the three-- but I must say! Despite being outside my expertise, I'm a little surprised how much it looks exactly like I was imagining! Even if it took me ages but that's just procrastination lmao.

Anyways! What is his deal? Well, for one, design wise I did go a more drastically different direction from his usual look by doing a literal scareCROW. He's much more bird like, with a plague doctor mask being common imagery in steampunk, but he's still very southern themed with his messy broken overall strap and patchwork coat. Even his wings are rustic. ( he can't fly just glide btw lol ) Also! I leaned hard into the color orange instead of his usual green gas because it..... bugs me that both Crane and Nygma have a bright green in their color palette. I just want them to have distinct colors if they're going to be a trio. And look how vintage halloweeny he looks !!

So why is he so well dressed out of costume? Well! This Jonathan Crane is not a psychologist at all, here he is the very successful grandfather of horror movies in the silent film era. ( An illustrious origin, i hope canon Crane would be proud lmao ). This is referenced in how his face looks, he's wearing white powder and black makeup that's usually meant to emphasize key features on blurry film like his upper lip and around his eyes. And yes, he just keeps his makeup on during most events, and people just accept he's a little on the... eccentric side.

To me, the archetype of the mad artist fits Jonathan's vibe perfectly. When it comes to striking fear, he's a perfectionist, a trait that drove him to learn every single skill necessary himself, from costume design to props to making his own cameras to mechanical engineering, to.... a "fear gas" that was supposed to gently encourage immersion in the audience but ended up becoming a dangerous chemical weapon.

For his origin crime I am thinking !! Full blown Scooby Doo style monster mystery!! With some nuance! Crane, as a first impression, gives off an immediate air of pompous, aggressively impatient, pretentious director type. His presence is big and dramatic, but its distinctly not southern-- in fact, he seems to play up something between a hollywood accent and a thespian one. But this is all to cover for his farm hick background that he was once very ashamed of.

As a child of a failing farmhand during an infamously dry and dusty era, Jonathan developed an extreme resentment for his country existence from both the bullying of other children for all his strange quirks and the severe verbal and physical abuse of his father, driven to alcoholism by the stress of poverty and the loss of his wife. Originally offering his artistic ideas as a means to help them, he grows sick of their closed mindedness and berating and runs away to learn about the emerging potential of film in Gotham City.

Its been many years, Jonathan now in his early 30s, he finds himself surrounded by the shallow, champagne aristocrats that reflect his childhood bullies. Feeling wrong in his own skin, he develops a sightly unhealthy obsession with the escapism he finds in performing as the monsters in his movies.

But upon discovering that the corrupt rich of Gotham plan to push legislation that would negatively effect farmers like his own history, and that they expected him to be amongst those who support it, his irritation with the shallowness of society reaches its limits. In day, he would feign support for their behavior to cover his tracks, but at night he would don the mask of the Scarecrow, rumored to be the vengeful spirit of a farmer who was hanged, and who he believes to be a more freeing expression of himself than his true face, targeting not just the rich but striking fear in their laborers to scare them off land. And it works. So, he tries bending the will of society more.

Is he doing this out of any moral conviction or just spite and a love for the role? It's... hard to say.

As the Scarecrow, his methods are so effective he's near uncatchable, even by Batman. Its only by solving the mystery of who is under the mask are they able to catch him. They surprise him during one of his screenings, jump him in the dark, and prove his subtle use of fear gas in the theater to the police once he's cornered. Instead of being angry, he goes to the mad house applauding Batman's performance.

What an interesting character they play. He's very inspired.

#( anyways uh I hope you like what i came up with ! lol )#batman scarecrow #batman villains #1920s gotham #1920s #1920s Scarecrow #vintage #fanart #dc comics #Jonathan Crane #scarecrow

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vraiao · 3 months

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✰ . college au, fem!reader, reader wheres a skirt, this is SO cliche, plot >.<, scara's a little bit of a biter, orgasm denial once, nipple play, semi-public(?), this has been in the drafts FOREVER and is also really fucking long

you and scaramouche played an innocent prank on a professor-- which led to you both being trapped in a small storage closet. since you'd both be in there for a while waiting for someone to come get you out, why not make it more enjoyable, right? . . .

RANDOM DISCLAMMERR!! this fic has been in the drafts probably like,, since i started writing- WHICH, isn't THAT long ago but my writing style has changed a lot since then. i don't hate this fic so I'm not gonna change anything I've already written, but the smut part is what i didn't get to writing so that part of this fic will be more similar to my current writing style!^_^

for whatever reason, you let scaramouche, aka your university's most notorious troublemaker, coax you into playing an innocent prank on one of the professors that no one liked, which put you in the situation you're in now.

you weren't really friends with him, so you had no idea why he was asking you of all people, but you figured that it wouldn't hurt to do something fun for once. everything went as planned, but there was an unexpected turn of events when you and scaramouche had to duck into a nearby storage closet to avoid being caught by the professor who was chasing you through the halls.

you both slammed the door shut while laughing but also trying to shush each other to avoid getting caught, and you decided to wait it out for a few minutes just so the professor wouldn't see you both and chase after you again. amidst your giggles and shushes, you hear a faint jingle, and you pass it off as nothing before you hear a click followed by that jingle once more. you looked up at scaramouche who also seemed to have heard the sounds, and you both fell silent while glancing between each other and the door.

swiftly, your hand moved to the doorknob and you tugged at it and attempted to turn it a few times-- but it wouldn't budge. you shifted your gaze from the door and back to scaramouche with an inward sigh. "bad news! we're locked in..." you said in a trying-to-be-optimistic tone.

he raised an eyebrow whilst his eyes slightly widened in disbelief. "seriously??" he replied. his hand moved to the door and he did the same thing you did, tugging and turning at the knob for a few seconds, to no avail. he sighed and pulled his phone from his pocket, opened it, and moved to sit in a chair that was sitting against the back wall of the closet. he took a few moments to type something up on his phone before looking back up at you. "i texted a friend for help. they should be here soon, k?"

you responded with a curt nod and rested your back on the wall behind you, shifting your attention to your phone and trying to find something to do to kill time.

you both waited in a somewhat comfortable silence, considering you were both occupied doing whatever on your phones as to not make anything awkward. though as time passed, each moment started to feel longer and longer. at some point, your phone was no longer keeping you occupied and you've resorted to looking around the small closet that seemed to continuously shrink the longer you were trapped in it. not only was your boredom reaching its peak, but with scaramouche occupying the only chair in the room, and there being no space to sit anywhere else, you began to grow restless from standing.

just as you were about to prop yourself up from the wall and attempt to relieve the growing discomfort in your legs by stretching or something, you hear Scaramouche begin to speak and you move your gaze to him. "don't you ever get tired of standing for that long?" he extended his hand toward you with his usual mischievous grin. "here, sit with me," he said.

you raised an eyebrow with a skeptical expression and confusion in your voice. "sit with you? where? there's nowhere to sit," you replied. you figured what he said must've been sarcastic, and that he was taunting you since he was the one sitting and you had to suffer while standing, so you rolled your eyes at him.

he let out a brief laugh at your response and inched his hand a little closer, that smug smirk and undertone of sudden anticipation still apparent on his face. "come on, of course there is!" he said.

you looked at him, retaining that skeptical look, and sighed. though you didn't entirely trust him since he was the one that got you both into this situation in the first place and he was also known for having tricks up his sleeve, you couldn't bear to stand for another second. hesitantly, you reached your hand towards the one he held out for you, and the moment your hands made contact, he swiftly pulled you towards him, making you fall on his lap with your back pressed to his chest.

when you realized what just happened, you hurriedly sat up, remaining on his lap but creating some distance between the two of you. You turned your head to look over your shoulder, and your eyes met his, followed by his cocky grin that seemed to have grown wider. You furrowed your eyebrows and silently thanked the archons that the room was just dark enough to where he couldn't see the faint pink tinting your cheeks. "seriously?!" you said.

he let out a curt laugh and spoke almost tauntingly. "better than standing though, right?" he teased.

you then realized that this was better than putting your legs through any more pain and you sighed, indicating that he was sort of right. "..i guess. just.. not really what i had in mind," you replied. he snickered and went back to whatever he was doing on his phone before, as did you.

minutes pass, and you slowly begin to realize that you still aren't comfortable. then again, you remind yourself that this is better than standing and you won't be truly comfortable until you're finally out of this cramped closet. but that doesn't stop you from slightly shifting on scaramouche's lap every so often to try and make the discomfort a little more bearable.

the way he quietly gasped, his cheeks grew a reddish pink tint, and the way his hand inched closer to gripping your waist every time you shifted went unnoticed by you until you shifted once more and unknowingly brushed the plush of your ass against the bulge forming in his pants, eliciting a sharp gasp from him and causing him to place a firm hold on your waist with a swift movement of his hand. "stop moving so much.." he muttered.

you looked over your shoulder to meet his gaze and he prayed that the darkness of the room hid his flustered expression from your view. "sorry..!" you said with a mixture of awkwardness and guilt on your face.

his hold on your waist loosened but he didn't entirely let go. He took a deep breath and diverted his eyes from yours "it's alright, just.. don't move so much," he replied.

you responded with a curt nod and turned your gaze back to whatever you were doing before. as the moments passed, you found it harder and harder to resist moving even just a little bit. although you didn’t want to annoy scaramouche, you were so uncomfortable with the way you were sitting. you considered just getting up altogether and standing, but you didn’t want to be rude since scaramouche was the one who offered you a seat in the first place— and you'd rather not have aching legs from standing uncomfortably.

after a few minutes of silently fighting back and forth with yourself on whether or not you should move, you inwardly sighed and decided to move just a little in hopes that it wouldn’t be too much of a bother to him. in doing so, you heard a muffled groan from him and felt both of his hands steady at a firm grip on your waist.

he leaned forward, and you felt his hot breath fanning your ear as he spoke to you in a steely tone. "you really don't listen, do you?" he paused, a hand moving from your waist to trace gentle circles on your neck with his finger as he continued on, "then.. i guess I'll have to teach you how to."

you heard a low chuckle from him before he began to slowly drag his tongue from the bottom of your neck to the point where the tip of your earlobe met your jawline, gently kissing the spot where his tongue stopped afterward. shivers flew down your spine, and he hummed to himself, gently kissing the back of your earlobe before bringing his voice down to a low, daunting whisper. "i'm going to ruin you," he muttered.

your eyes widened and you swiftly turned your head around and raised your voice almost to a shout. "what are you--!!" but before you could finish, he placed a shushing finger over your mouth and spoke in between the kisses and gentle bites that he started to place all over your neck. "shhh," he began. "you wouldn't want anyone to hear us, right? hmm.. what would they think if they found us like this..?"

though you weren't looking at him, you could perfectly imagine the cunning smirk plastered across his face. his hands moved again, one stationed back to your waist, holding you in place while the other rested on your thigh, though slowly creeping up and moving toward the hem of your skirt while his fingers delicately tapped along your skin.

while his hand dipped under the fabric of your skirt and teased along your inner thighs, he started pressing slightly harsher bites on your neck, pinching your skin between his teeth hard enough to leave small red marks.

this was all too much. you were feeling so many different things all at once and everything scaramouche was doing was moving far too fast for you to process. your head spun as your hands clenched at your sides, and he was absolutely reveling in the power he held over you.

he pushed his hand forward, deftly dragging his fingers along your soaked panties, your breath hitching as he pressed against every little spot that made you want to squeeze your thighs shut. to prevent that, he placed a hand on your thigh and every time you tried to close your legs he'd just squeeze you harder, his nails digging into your plush skin.

his breath was hot and teasingly heavy against your ear, the feeling sending a shiver down your spine as he let out a mocking chuckle, "look at you. I've barely done anything yet," he teased.

you huffed. you couldn't tell if you were frustrated at how he was teasing you or because he was doing this in the first place, but either way, it did not matter-- it wasn't like he was going to stop any time soon. without warning, he pulled your panties to the side, not even bothering to pull them off before slowly slipping one finger past the entrance of your cunt.

slowly, very slowly, he moved his finger back and forth and back and forth, his pace painfully languid. he was teasing you, and you knew it. you couldn't deny that what he was doing excited you, but it wasn't enough. with furrowed brows and an expression akin to frustration, you bucked your hips forward in an attempt to gain friction-- but scaramouche was quick to put a stop to that. his free hand moved back to your waist, pulling you back against him and holding you still. "so impatient," he muttered before finally slipping another finger in.

you gasped feeling his second finger slip inside of you, though he still retained that same teasingly slow pace. as he worked his fingers in you, scissoring them back and forth and such, hushed moans and gasps spilled out of your mouth. though he, mere moments ago, told you to keep it down, he was a little dissatisfied with how quiet you were being. he leaned in, seductively whispering into your ear, "come on, pretty. i know you can give me more than that," he said before finally picking up the pace, moving his fingers a little faster just so he could hear more from you.

just as he'd hoped, your needy whines increased in pitch and you threw your head back, the back of your head resting on his shoulder as you arched your back forward. taking this opportunity, he bit down hard on a sensitive spot on your neck, and you yelped. he chuckled before resuming sloppy kisses all along your skin.

your face was flushed, hair disheveled, and you were panting heavily as his fingers speedily moved in and out of your dripping cunt. biting your lip, you tried to silence your moans, but he only increased his pace in response. your vision was splitting in twos, and you could swear you were seeing stars. nearing the edge, you found yourself caring less and less about the volume of the lewd noises that were leaving your mouth.

pure ecstasy was the only way you could describe what you were feeling in this very moment. a moaned whisper of his name spilled from your mouth, and just as the tightening knot in your stomach was about to snap, he suddenly came to a full stop, pulling his fingers out of you just before you came undone.

you whined in protest, looking back only to see him teasingly licking his fingers while eyeing you. slowly, he moved them into his mouth, sloppily licking all of your arousal off of them with his mouth open just wide enough for you to clearly see his tongue swirling around his slender fingers in delibaretly slow motions.

he slowly dragged his fingers out of his mouth, the tips of them still connected to his mouth by a string of saliva before he pulled them away. "like what you see?" he said. you huffed. despite such lewd situations, he could still be such a tease, and you disliked it. again, his lips moved back to your neck, licking and biting at the already red and purple marks all over your skin.

he moved his hands to where you couldn't see them, and behind you, you heard a zipper before feeling something long and hard pressing against your back. it took you a minute to realize exactly what that was, but by then it was too late. with both of his hands placing hold on your waist, he lifted you a little up and forward before bringing you back until you could feel his tip prodding at your hole.

you bit your lip, unsure if you guys should be doing something this sinful in a place like this, of all places. "wai— hngh!!" before you could protest, he bucked his hips up and pulled you down onto his dick. he bottomed out in you so quickly, and you moaned, the feeling of being so damn full sending you reeling.

he lifted you up again, pulling out until just his tip was left in before slamming you back down, the way he so easily manhandled you knocking the wind out of your lungs. as he repeated his slow and harsh thrusts, you could hear husky groans spilling out of his mouth. "this, is what you get.." he trailed off, his nails digging into your waist as he tried to keep his composure, "..for being so.. disobedient...!"

your hand flew to your mouth, desperately trying to muffle the strident moans that you were letting out. in between your stringy whines, you tried to protest, "i'm a-ah..! 'sorry!!" after slamming into you once more, he suddenly stopped, leaning in, his voice dropping to a low, seductive whisper as he spoke. "oh, you're sorry, hm? does that mean you want me to stop?" frantically, you shook your head. your mind was spinning in so many directions, but if there was one thing you knew, it was that you definitely didn't want to stop now. besides, the two of you were already too far into it to just end it now.

"n..no!" you choked out. he chuckled, "good," he said before bringing your hips up once more and slamming you back down on his dick, groaning before he spoke again "that's what i thought." he picked up the pace, repeatedly bouncing you up and down on his cock with rapid motions-- quickly turning you into a moaning mess. moving one hand away from your waist, he lifted your shirt, your bouncing tits on full display for him.

he had one hand on your waist, and the other was groping and squeezing one of your boobs, pinching and rolling your sensitive nipple between his fingers while he feverishly bucked his hips forward. he began to place kisses from your shoulder blade all the way to your ear before teasingly whispering to you. "can you imagine if someone walked in at this very moment? what would they do if they saw you like this, hmm?" he said. you whined out in protest, too fucked out to even try and form coherent words, but he continued to toy with you. "well, judging by the way your pussy's clenching around me, id say you like the idea of being caught."

you shook your head, but you couldn't deny the thought of it did turn you on a little bit. though before you could think about it more, he suddenly lifted you off of him, standing you up as he stood up with you before pushing you forward, bending you over with your hands against the wall. you didn't know just how many more of sudden movements you could take, and you were about to question him before you felt his hands take firm hold on his waist and he thrusted into you again.

already, his thrusts were accelerated and a little erratic, his dick hitting you in spots so much deeper than before. you couldn't control your moans anymore, and you honestly didn't care who heard you at this point. by now, he had driven so many marks into your skin by how harshly he gripped you-- not that you minded. you were so close, and your head was absolutely spinning. your vision was going blurry, and you could hardly form a single coherent thought as you felt the tightening knot in your stomach about to snap.

with a desperate cry of his name, you finally came undone, spilling all over him and leaving a milky white ring at the base of his dick. clearly, that did something to him, as his thrusts got more erratic and you could feel his dick twitch inside of you. "ah, fuck," he muttered. he leaned forward, chest pressing against your back as he harshly snapped his hips forward with a speed that knocked the wind out of you.

shamelessly moaning into your ear, he let out a strained groan as he finally came, spilling ropes of his warm, sticky cum right into you. his thrusts slowly lost speed as he made sure to fuck his cum deep into you before he came to a full stop. he paused for a moment, catching his breath before you felt his dick soften and he pulled out and pulled his pants back on, a few drops of your mixed arousal dripping out of you and onto the floor. he grinned, satisfied at the sight.

your legs wobbled, and you practically collapsed, plopping down onto the floor and leaning your back against the wall with a flushed face and heavy panting. crouching down in front of you, he tilted his head to the side with a cocky grin on his face. leaning forward, he gently kissed your lips, his sudden tenderness a stark comparison to the coarseness of his previous actions. "well? aren't you going to join me?" he said. looking at him, your vision was blurring in and out and you raised a confused eyebrow at him. he did not wait for you to respond before grabbing you by the hand, standing you both up and walking toward the door.

still very confused, you followed him with your eyes as he reached into his pocket and pulled out... a key?? he brought it to the little keyhole on the door and, he unlocked it! your eyes widened, and suddenly everything was starting to make sense.

that cunning bastard.

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