#so I can gather myself up and be ready

[jocelynships]

I’m trying not to let my bad feelings take over rn but hoo boy I am. Really angry/upset/sad/whatever at everything right now

[gloomwitchwrites]

Locker Room

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, enemies-ish to lovers, sexual tension, arguments, suggestive themes, intimate touching, teasing, dirty thoughts

A/N: For @glitterypirateduck 's Ghost Writing Challenge. I used prompts 43, 97, & 99. (I had so much fun challenging myself to do this all in one go. I set a timer and everything.)

After finding an infuriating note on your desk, you confront Simon in the communal locker room.

Part Two // Simon's POV

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist

Beneath your skin is an inferno.

It’s not the kind that blazes for another, or burns in tandem with a deep yearning. This is just seething anger and blunt frustration.

You’re ready to knock out some fucking teeth.

How dare he? Who the fuck does Lieutenant Riley think he is?

When you return reports to Captain Price, you point out all the inconsistences and errors. The lack of accountability and absolute carelessness has been scratching at you for ages, and this time you had enough. Usually Price shrugs, fixes whatever you’ve marked—to a degree—and then returns them without argument.

This time? Price took one look at them and told you to talk to Simon.

Not a problem. No issue at all. You and Lieutenant Riley have always been on good terms. Sometimes, it’s been more than good. You’ve caught him staring for far too long, or he stands a bit too close as if the two of you are a couple and not coworkers. And while you’ve internalized the fantasy, it’s not like you’ve ever acted on it.

But now you’re just irritated.

You handed over the files yesterday evening, and this morning you found them back on your desk. It’s not the turnaround but Lieutenant Riley’s audacity of placing those files back on your desk with a singular sticky note.

The reports are just fine, sweetheart.

Sweetheart. Sweetheart?

The other day you imagined what it might be like to have the burly, masked man call you a pet name, but this is just fucking condescending.

Your heels clack sharply against the linoleum floor. Perhaps it’s the rage in your face, because every person you meet on your rampage steps out of your way, their gaze averted. Rounding a corner, you exit through a side door and into one of the hangars. A few people glance up, frowning, but return to their job.

Sighing heavily, you approach the nearest person. “Where’s Lieutenant Riley?”

The young man—who looks right out recruitment—glances up. He swallows and peers over his shoulder as if he’s not sure he’s supposed to say. “Locker room, ma’am?”

“Thank you,” you reply sharply, turning on your heel and heading for another door leading to the communal gym.

“But—” he begins, stumbling to his feet as you charge on. “Ma’am! You can’t—”

The door slams shut behind you and you don’t look back.

This is one of several communal spaces. There are the usual training areas on base but there are also a few gyms for those that want to get a bit of extra work in. Every head turns toward you and many don’t look away. This one is just for the men, and you’re the odd duck.

And fuck it. You don’t care. You’re too fucking mad right now to think of anything else but giving Lieutenant Riley a piece of your goddamn mind.

With everything pumping in your veins, the reality of you storming toward the locker rooms hasn’t even dawned. Hasn’t clicked. Fury laces your every step, and even here, where you’re not supposed to be, the men in your path move as if they sense the rage.

When you burst through the door and meet a wall of steam, all the heat suddenly extinguishes. Glancing around, you’re met with wide-eyed stares and surprised expressions.

Keeping your gaze as upward as you can, you clear your throat. “Where is Lieutenant Riley?”

There is only silence. Maybe if you stare at the top of the lockers for long enough, you’ll somehow gather your courage again.

“I asked where Lieutenant—”

“I’m right here.”

You turn abruptly and freeze.

Lieutenant Simon Riley stands before you in nothing but a towel. It hangs low on his hips. Other than that, the bottom-half of his face is covered up by a black mask and his dog tags dangle from his neck. His hair is a wet, tussled mess, and his chest glistens with water like he just stepped out from the shower.

Simon simply stares at you for a moment as you stand in utter silence. His gaze, which is piercing and fierce, slides away to scan the room. He doesn’t have to say anything. The rest of the men in the room grab bags and clothes, rushing to exit through the door you just entered from.

When the last man leaves, Simon rolls his shoulders, straightening his spine. It makes him appear larger, more intimidating, and that one movement draws forth a heat in your belly. This isn’t anger. This is need.

“I know what you came here for,” he says, and it’s so casual a tone that the earlier rage comes rising up.

“I’m sure you do,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest.

Simon says nothing. His dark eyes remain on you, unmoving and cold, yet pinning you to the spot as if you’ve been impaled by a spear.

“Are you going to apologize?”

“Why?” he asks automatically.

You scoff. “Are you fucking serious?”

“You didn’t come here for an apology.”

You uncross your arms and hold them out in front of you, bent at the elbows. “The reports—”

“The reports are fine.”

You roll your eyes and throw your hands up in the air. “There are inconsistencies everywhere. I can’t submit them as they are.”

Simon rolls his neck and then strides forward. Instinct has you stepping back, moving away, but you bump into a row of lockers. He doesn’t stop until he’s leaning over you, one large hand pressing into the metal to the side of your head.

“You’re nitpicking,” he replies.

“About lazy writing?”

“Oh, love. I assure you. I’m thorough.” At that, Simon leans in, and your hands rise instinctually, pressing against his firm chest.

Simon’s gaze doesn’t drop from your face. His entire attention is on you and that heat is back, twisting in your stomach, stirring up a slickness between your legs.

“Lieutenant,” you breathe, wanting the need between your legs to leave but also loving how close he is.

Sure, you’re pissed off but my god. The fresh scent of him is intoxicating, and you’re doing everything in your power not to lean in and lick up the droplet of water running along the side of his throat.

“Why did you come here?” He waits a beat, and when you don’t reply, Simon continues. “To argue?” He lightly pinches your bottom chin, his thumb pressing against your bottom lip, dragging it down a bit. You open your mouth involuntarily and Simon makes at sound in his throat that makes your legs weak. “To see me?” He leans in like he’s about to kiss you. “To be alone?”

“I didn’t ask for this,” you whisper.

Simon has you caged in. Pinned. The only thing separating your body and his is that towel.

“Why do you think everyone left when they did?” Simon’s thumb drops away from your lips only to press at the hollow of your throat. “It’s not because you walked in.”

“Why?” you ask, as Simon’s thumb drags lowers over your top to the space between your breasts.

“Because you’re mine. And they know it.”

“You—what?” Without anywhere to go, you can’t escape his intense stare.

“I’m staking a claim.”

“Lieutenant—”

“Simon,” he growls. “Call me Simon.”

“Simon,” you say, and he groans.

His dog tags brush against your fingers. The metal is slightly cool and damp. You curl on finger around the chain, and tug, bringing Simon’s face down to yours. If he can tease and touch, you’re going to do the same. He can’t have all the power.

Your lips brush against his through the mask, and Simon’s eyelids begin to close, revealing his gentle submission in this moment. Deepening the movement, you kiss him as if there were no barrier. This time, he truly groans, and you’d give anything to remove the barriers between you and find out what it’s like to feel him deep inside.

Fisting his dog tags in your hand, you shove him away, but only enough that there is a fraction of distance.

“Fix the fucking reports, Simon.”

Instead of kissing him again, or even touching him, you unclench your fist, releasing the dog tags. Slipping under his arm, you exit through the door and out into the gym, leaving a trail of steam in your wake.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth

@miaraei @coffeecaketornado @wren5650 @aykxz98 @kayden666

@unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @enfppuff

@cinnabeanz @berarenado @rogerrhqpsody @josephquinnschesthair @saoirse06

@therealbloom @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @thewulf

@lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien

@xxkay15xx @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project

@burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605

@contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic

@suhmie @tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair @nomercyforthewarrior

[pin-k-ink]

INDULGENCE ⋆✦⋆ hoshina soshiro

synopsis ➸ soshiro already acted like an animal in heat 24/7. there’s no way some measly little chocolates could possibly make him worse… right?

tags ➸ aphrodisiacs, pussy drunk!hoshina, dry humping, riding, car sex, clothed sex, begging, marathon sex, overstimulation, switch!hoshina, cumflation, nipple play, manhandling, teeny tiny breeding kink

wc ➸ 4.2k

"Ugh, Soshiro, stop..." You giggled breathlessly, squirming as your husband's lips blazed scorching trails across your bare shoulders from behind. "I'll never finish getting ready for dinner at this rate."

His low rumble of amusement vibrated deliciously against your flushed skin in response. Powerful hands roamed over the satin curves of your slip, calloused palms kneading and stoking the growing fire smoldering low in your belly.

"Can't help myself when you're prancing around looking like this," Soshiro rumbled, nosing aside the thin strap to trail open-mouthed worship along your upper back. "All that gorgeous skin just begging to be marked properly..."

You shivered despite your attempt at playful admonishment, instinctively arching back into the solid wall of his broad chest. Those wicked hands slid higher, molding over the plush swell of your tits through the flimsy silk until you gasped softly.

"See? You want it just as bad, babygirl," Soshiro purred against the fevered throb of your pulse point, voice dripping sin. "Want me lavishing all sorts of ungentlemanly attention until even the fanciest dress can't hide how worked up I always leave you..."

To emphasize his point, thick fingertips circled your peaked nipples through the delicate fabric in tight swirls until you choked back a moan. Soshiro chuckled richly at your traitorous reaction, teeth grazing over that sensitive juncture of throat and shoulder warningly.

"Babe...please," you managed in a breathless rasp. "Don't start what we can't finish right now. You know I've got a surprise planned for us later this evening..."

That gave him momentary pause, allowing you to gather the tattered remnants of your resolve. But then his grip was flexing, short nails raking over your silk-covered curves in delicious reprimand that had you arching helplessly.

"Is that so?" Soshiro rumbled in between scorching drags of his tongue over your feverish skin. "Well now I'm just gonna be even more impatient to enjoy the evening properly with you, hm? Though maybe if you gave me a little sneak preview..."

One broad palm flattened over the apex of your parted thighs, grinding the heel against your rapidly dampening heat in a deliciously filthy promise. You bit back a strangled keen, legs instinctively falling open wider as the other hand bunched your skirt higher.

"J-Jerk," you whimpered breathlessly despite no real heat behind the petulant accusation. "Keep it up and your surprise will end up ruined before we can even sample it properly."

Soshiro made a considering noise against the racing thunder of your pulse, finally withdrawing enough for you to shakily gather your composure. His piercing stare tracked every tremor racking your frame with hunger, though, and you knew this momentary reprieve was only a stay of execution on his wicked teasing for now.

So with a concentrated effort, you smoothed your slip and fumbled for the nearby ornate robe to conceal your lingerie ensemble from roving ruby scrutiny. Soshiro prowled a lazy circle around you with a distinctly predatory edge to his gait that had tingles sparking fresh arousal in your gut.

"I'll try to rein myself in long enough for us to at least make it out the door tonight," he drawled at last, shooting you one of those heated looks from beneath smoldering lashes that never failed to rob what little air remained in your lungs. "Can't guarantee how well I'll behave once we're behind closed doors later, though..."

You swallowed hard, but met his blazing stare steadily despite your flush. "Good thing I'm an excellent influence when it comes to encouraging proper manners between us, then. Right?"

Soshiro barked out a low laugh at your playfully innocent tone, clearly dubious but willing to maintain the lighthearted bantering dynamic for now. Though his wandering stare continued undressing you with his eyes as you moved to slip into strappy heels and finish up the final touches with makeup.

"Alright, alright," he rumbled at last, snagging your wrist to tug you against his chest for one last lingering kiss that left you dizzy. "I'll leave you to your primping for now...but don't take too long down here, gorgeous. You know how impatient I can get."

You shivered at the heated promise laced through his deep rasp, drinking in every chiseled plane and cut of powerful muscle visible through his crisp shirt and slacks. Soshiro winked roguishly before allowing you to detach and retreat back towards the vanity, muttering something about needing a cold shower as he went.

Chuckling to yourself, you focused on meticulous touches while anticipation hummed through your veins. Tonight was your anniversary celebration - one you'd been eagerly planning every detail for over the past several weeks now. Including a very special surprise Soshiro had zero clue about waiting downstairs...

His footsteps trailed away as he descended to the lower level, finally granting you some breathing room to double check your appearance in the mirror. Everything had to be absolutely perfect before unveiling your cheeky gift later. You knew exactly how Soshiro tended to...appreciate any unexpected indulgences you bestowed upon him.

Speaking of which...you threw one last saucy grin at your reflection before grabbing your clutch and heading for the bedroom door yourself. No point in dawdling any longer now that your husband's notorious lack of patience was steadily building the longer you spent apart.

The lower hall was quiet and dim as you made your way to the central staircase winding down, ears perked for any sign of Soshiro lurking about. However, the only noises you detected were strange rustlings emanating from somewhere in the living area nearby.

Cautiously, you crept towards the archway and peered through - only to freeze in place at the truly bizarre scene unfolding in your absence.

There was Soshiro, casually settled amidst the plush sofa cushions while one hand idly polished off what appeared to be...the gourmet aphrodisiac chocolates you'd purchased especially for your intimate after-dinner indulgences tonight! Your jaw dropped in stunned disbelief as he greedily stuffed the last remaining morsels between his lips, not a care in the world.

"Soshiro!" you scolded before you could stop yourself, already surging forward to pluck the decimated box from his calloused grip. "What the hell do you think you're doing just gobbling up those expensive treats?"

He blinked up at you with patently faux innocence gleaming in those ruby irises, wiping a smear of velvety chocolate from the corner of his mouth with one knuckle.

"Not sure what you're so worked up about, baby. They're just fancy chocolates, right?" Soshiro shrugged unrepentantly. "Saw a mysterious box laying around while I was waiting for you and figured it was meant for me to sample."

You opened and closed your mouth several times, utterly flabbergasted that he could miss the significance so thoroughly when his eyes traced over the provocative packaging design now. But...perhaps that was for the best.

"You know what, never mind. You’re probably going to be fine..." you decided after a loaded pause, pointedly ignoring the flicker of victorious glee dancing through Soshiro's blown pupils at your deflated response. "We're going to be late for our dinner reservation if we dally much longer, so I'll explain more about it later tonight."

'He’ll probably be fine. He’s already insatiable anyway.' You thought silently.

Soshiro made a dubious noise at the back of his throat but thankfully rose to join you without further protest. As you tucked the crumpled confection box away in your clutch for the moment, he snaked one arm around your waist unexpectedly - lips brushing your hairline in an intimate nuzzle that had tingles erupting across your exposed nape.

"Lead the way, gorgeous," he husked in barely veiling hunger. "Though at this rate, I can't make any promises about keeping my hands off you once we're alone again later..."

You shivered despite yourself at the blatant forewarning, already feeling the banked embers of your own desire and anticipation rapidly catching light anew even in your husband's oblivious state. Honestly, you couldn't decide if Soshiro unknowingly devouring the aphrodisiac enhancements secretly boded fortunate or utter chaos for the night to come now...

By the time you were sliding into his car and buckling in for the short drive to the upscale bistro downtown, you couldn't quite shake the strange undercurrent of tension building between your forms. Almost like static charge crackling across exposed skin as Soshiro's heavy-lidded gaze continued pinning you with velvet intensity from the driver's seat.

It wasn't until he threw the vehicle into gear and began peeling away from the curb that you noticed the first visible cues that something was rapidly spiraling out of control, however.

Soshiro let out a harsh exhale, muscles in his jaw flexing tautly as his broad shoulders rolled in obvious tension. You watched curiously as one pale hand migrated from the steering wheel to rest heavily upon your thigh without preamble. Calloused fingers gripped the sensitive flesh with bruising intensity that made you inhale sharply.

"Babe?" you prompted in confusion as he began tracing slow, aimless circles against your inner thigh. There was a certain glazed edge to those blown crimson irises that set your nerves alight unexpectedly. "You okay over there?"

He grunted noncommittally, thick brows furrowed as if struggling against some unseen force. Another shudder rolled through his powerful frame, this one more pronounced. His hand clenched on your leg convulsively, making you gasp.

"Soshiro, what's—?"

In the blink of an eye, he cut you off with a strangled groan - body seizing up as both hands flew to grip the steering wheel in a white-knuckled vise. The car veered dangerously across the empty intersection before correcting, every tendon standing out in harsh relief along Soshiro's bared forearms.

"Fuck...!" he spat out harshly through gritted teeth. The muscle in his jaw leapt and flexed as if he fought for control against some inexplicable force wracking him from the inside. "Baby, are...shit, something's happening, I—!"

Another tortured keen ripped free of his broad chest as the car swerved again. By now, you could detect the sharp, musky scent of his arousal slowly thickening the air around you both in undeniable waves. Your eyes went wide, roving frantically over his contorted expression twisted in more agony than bliss so far.

"Soshiro!" you cried out sharply, reaching over to grip his bicep in mounting panic. "Oh god, what's wrong?! Talk to me right now before something—"

He whipped his head around to face you, effectively silencing your demands with one hauntingly intense look alone. Soshiro's pupils had blown to astronomical proportions, leaving only razor-thin rings of ruby irises visible. His nostrils flared in a harsh exhale, chest heaving as the tendons in his thick throat leapt convulsively.

Then his gaze raked down the length of your body with simmering hunger that sent a thrill of pure yearning zipping straight to your core. Soshiro seemed to scent the sudden flare of your arousal immediately, lips peeling back over blunt teeth in a primal snarl that stole what little breath you had left entirely.

"H-Holy shit..." he rumbled in a sandpaper rasp that was pure sin incarnate. "Is this what you meant about those fucking chocolates, [Y/N]...? Because if so, I might not...I might not be able to control—!"

The rest of his warning was swallowed up in another guttural growl, powerful frame bucking against the unyielding confines of his seat in desperation. You watched with a dazed sort of horror as his large hand abandoned your thigh in favor of palming the obvious bulge of his cock through his slacks - thick fingers flexing rhythmically against the growing swell until a choked whimper spilled over his lips.

"Oh god...fuck!" Soshiro rasped through clenched teeth, chest heaving rapidly. "M' pulling over so I can—fuck, baby, I can't focus when you smell so fucking good..."

You could only mutely comply, adrenaline and arousal warring in a heady cocktail that spiked your pulse into double time. Every minute shift and harsh exhalation from his wrecked form beside you sent liquid heat pooling lower and lower in your core with searing intensity.

By the time he’d managed to wrestle the car off onto the nearest side street and engage the parking brake, Soshiro was an absolute disheveled mess - utterly lost to the wanton throes overwhelming every rational impulse of self-restraint left. The instant he killed the engine, he seized you with bruising aggression - nearly tearing the seatbelt from your chest in his desperation.

"Off...get them off now," he demanded in something dangerously close to a snarl, huge palms already tugging at the hem of your dress furiously.

"Soshiro, wait—!" you tried weakly, still reeling from his frantic outburst and the dizzying arousal swimming through your own senses. "Those chocolates you ate, baby...they were...they had some kind of aphrodisiac—!"

But whatever explanation you tried to eke out dissolved on a throaty cry as he finally succeeded in rending your panties away with a bestial growl. His fingers delved straight into your dripping folds without ceremony, curling and pumping with blistering demand as slick obscene noises rapidly filled the compact space.

"No more talking..." Soshiro ground out in a voice utterly shredded by need. His scorching stare pinned you immobile as he ruthlessly chased your shuddering release without hesitation or restraint. "Can't wait...I have to fuck you, baby. Right. Fucking. Now."

His lips crashed down against yours with blistering ferocity that left you panting. One huge hand cradled your jaw firmly as his tongue delved deep in a filthy promise that had you moaning helplessly. Then, just as swiftly as he'd begun, Soshiro was withdrawing entirely - leaving you dazed and achingly empty in his wake.

"Get in the back," he commanded roughly, already fumbling at his belt and slacks with trembling urgency. "Need room to spread you open, gorgeous..."

"B-But what about our dinner res—ahhh!"

Your squeak of surprise melted into a whimper of pure lust as Soshiro bodily hauled you across the center console to settle across his lap. Those ravenous hands didn't hesitate to wrench aside the skirt of your dress and shove your upper thighs wider, forcing you into a wanton straddle.

"Don't need to eat a fucking thing when you're right here," he husked filthily, dragging one thick thumb through your sopping folds. You bit your lip at the lurid, wet squelch it produced that left no room for denial. "Now, let's see if I can get that pretty pussy sucking me all the way down, hm?"

You were still sputtering wordlessly as Soshiro aligned his thick cock with your aching slit and began hauling you down against his straining shaft with a guttural groan. Despite the frantic need lancing through every nerve ending, his fat tip barely pierced the molten velvet embrace of your tight channel before you were already whimpering in earnest.

"O-Oh my god, babe..." you stuttered breathlessly, hands scrabbling for purchase against his shoulders. "Please, I can't, you're too big and I—!"

"Shut up and take it," he snarled, hips jerking up brutally to force a few more inches deeper despite the searing resistance. "Need to...so bad, baby, I can't...fucking need it!"

You could only keen brokenly as he began rutting into your quivering core in sharp, jagged thrusts - the raw stretch of your inner walls around his impossibly thick cock driving the air from your lungs entirely. By the time Soshiro was hilted balls-deep inside your molten heat, your entire lower half felt stretched to the very limit.

"So good, so fucking good..." he mumbled nonsensically, pressing hot, sloppy kisses all along your neck and collarbones while his hands guided your hips to grind in filthy figure-eights. "Can feel you squeezing...hnnngh, fuck, baby, it's never been like this, feels so—!"

Your head spun at his wrecked rambling, overwhelmed by the intensity of sensation as your pussy fluttered around his cock in instinctive welcome. This was unlike anything the two of you had shared thus far - a feverish frenzy that had Soshiro’s face buried in your heaving breasts, hips pumping with single-minded desperation to drive his swollen dick even deeper into your cunt.

"Please, Soshiro..." you gasped out, fingers tangling in his silky black locks.

"M' close, m' so fucking close already, but it's not enough, babygirl..." he moaned in a hoarse rasp against your skin. "I need more, please, fuck...!"

And then you were squealing as his hands dug bruises into your hips and yanked you upright, forcing your quivering thighs wider in a punishing vise that would have your legs screaming in agony tomorrow. Soshiro didn't pause or even seem to notice your desperate whimpers, however, as his gaze fixated on the point where his pulsing cock speared you wide open.

"Oh fuck, I can see it..." he groaned, the filthy words spilling from his lips seemingly beyond his control. "So pretty—you're so pretty, baby. And all mine, yeah? Fuck, look at how much your greedy cunt wants me, too..."

You whimpered in dizzy agreement, unable to resist following his heated gaze downwards to the lurid spectacle he'd created. You could feel the hot brand of his stare tracing each flex and roll of his cock disappearing into your flushed, aching pussy - your folds glistening obscenely with the mixture of his precum and your own arousal.

"Soshiro...baby, please, it's so much," you choked out, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight either. Your inner walls were practically convulsing in overstimulated agony around his girth, each inch dragging along your clenching sheath in a sinful grind that had tears welling in your eyes. "It's too much, I'm going to—!"

A strangled scream tore loose as Soshiro abruptly began fucking into your pliant body in brutal lunges that had you keening and thrashing atop his lap. You were pinned in place, though, as his massive hands kept you anchored in the perfect position for his merciless assault.

"I can't—gonna fucking cum already, baby," he grunted, voice cracking as his pace faltered and stuttered wildly. "Gotta, fuck, wanna fill you up so bad, make you take every drop. Gonna breed that pretty pussy nice and full, babygirl, gonna—!"

His final words dissolved into an inarticulate bellow, hips slamming upwards against your ass in a frenzy as he chased his own release. You could feel his cock twitching, the hot splash of his seed flooding your tender depths as he pumped you full in endless ropes that left you whimpering.

He didn’t stop for a second, didn't even hesitate. Instead, Soshiro simply shifted you forward with a feral snarl and began rocking his hips upward in a fresh frenzy. His fat cock continued sawing into you at an unforgiving pace that had you crying out at the brutal friction.

"Mmm, fuck, so good..." he panted, burying his face between the valley of your tits and nuzzling shamelessly. "So warm and soft and...god, baby, I can't stop. Need it again, I—gonna fuck you again, alright?"

Your head swam dizzily at his filthy promise, still struggling to process the fact that he hadn't even gone soft in the slightest. But then he was hauling you against his chest, wrapping your arms and legs around him like a limpet while he slid from the driver's seat and into the back of the car.

"Get on top and sit on my cock, babygirl," he commanded with a throaty groan, rubbing his calloused palms up and down the slope of your spine soothingly. "Want to watch you ride me..."

You didn't have time to even protest the new position as Soshiro hauled you up and then down again in a single thrust that left you both seeing stars. He was already rutting up into your dripping pussy with wild abandon, the slick sound of your bodies coming together a lewd accompaniment to your desperate cries and his growls.

"Fuck, you feel so good, baby, I—shit, I can't...I can't stop fucking you," he confessed, pupils blown to the point that only the thinnest band of crimson remained. "Don’t wanna, don't...need it, need you, so much..."

All you could do was cling to him for dear life as he used your body in the most exquisite ways. You could feel the thick spurts of his cum dripping from your pussy with each punishing lunge, a ring of white frothing out around his swollen girth every time he bottomed out deep inside. It was dirty, and obscene, and you couldn't get enough.

"M' gonna cum again," Soshiro panted hoarsely, sweat beading his temples and soaking his shirt as his hips jackknifed upwards in a relentless rhythm. "Can't, shit, can't hold back, baby...! Need it, need you, god, I...please, please, m' cumming...!"

Another raw howl tore loose as his cock throbbed, another load of his thick cum painting your insides as he held you impaled on his length by your forearms. Soshiro didn't slow his frantic rutting for a second, though, even as his chest heaved with the effort and his eyes glazed over.

"Baby...please, I can't, I need..."he mumbled deliriously, burying his face between your breasts with a choked groan. "Don't wanna hurt you, baby, but...god, please, just let me...need to keep fucking you, m' sorry, I can't help it..."

You weren't sure how long you rode the waves of his insatiable lust in the cramped backseat of his car. The windows were fogged, and the scent of sex was heavy in the air. Your limbs ached, and your cunt was sore and leaking. Still, you couldn't bring yourself to deny him what he needed, not when he was so beautifully desperate.

"Please," Soshiro gasped out, hips rolling against yours in a lazy grind. "Baby, please, keep going, need...god, please, keep fucking me, need your pussy..."

Your hands cradled his jaw gently, pulling him into a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss that made his cock pulse against your sensitive walls. He groaned into the wet tangle of tongues, rutting into you like a man possessed.

"Keep fucking me," Soshiro murmured against your lips, his hands running down your spine and clutching at your hips. "Fuck me, fuck me, baby, please...!"

You did as he asked, rolling your hips and bouncing in his lap with a steady pace, the rhythmic clap of flesh on flesh filling the car. You kept at it, the sound of your bodies joining echoing around the small space. Soshiro kept his grip on you, using his leverage to guide your movements, his hips snapping up to meet yours on each downstroke.

"M' so close," he growled, his words slurring together. "M' so close, baby, m' gonna fill you up again..."

You leaned in and kissed him again, swallowing his moans and whimpers as his cock twitched and throbbed inside of you. With a shuddering gasp, he spilled into you once more, his seed spilling out around the thick base of his cock and soaking the leather beneath your knees.

"So good," Soshiro croaked, his lips trailing across your jaw and down the slope of your neck. "You feel so fucking good, babygirl..."

You moaned as his tongue trailed across the curve of your shoulder, his hips rocking against yours in a gentle motion, his cock still pulsing and twitching inside of you. With a trembling sigh, he buried his face in your chest, his breath hot against your skin.

"Don't want to stop," he mumbled, his words muffled. "M' sorry, baby, don't want to, need to feel your pussy more...!"

You shivered as his grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging into the supple flesh. With a sharp tug, he pulled you down, grinding his cock deeper inside of you, a groan bubbling up from his throat.

"Please," he rasped, his voice cracking. "Fuck me, baby, please, m' gonna die if you don't..."

You whimpered as he shifted beneath you, his cock nudging deeper and causing you to tremble. Slowly, you rolled your hips against his, earning a ragged moan in response.

Whatever happened after that was a complete haze of unrelenting, carnal bliss - your husband's endless stamina and boundless need consuming both of you entirely. It was only after what seemed like an eternity later, the two of you sprawled limply amongst the plush cushions, that a semblance of sanity slowly began filtering back through your fogged senses.

"So that's what those chocolates were really for," Soshiro murmured hoarsely against the sweat-slick skin of your shoulder, sounding slightly dazed. His large hand idly kneaded the plush curve of your ass, the other stroking over the slight rounding of your lower abdomen that his copious seed had caused. "Huh, who would have thought?"

"Well, technically, it was your fault," you pointed out, still trying to catch your breath. "You ate the chocolates without asking first, remember?"

Soshiro snorted, shifting to pull you more securely into his side. "M' not complaining, babygirl. That was easily the best anniversary gift ever."

You huffed, rolling your eyes. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, you jerk."

His rich chuckle vibrated pleasantly against your chest, followed by the soft press of his lips against your temple. You hummed contentedly, snuggling into his embrace despite the fact that you were both a sticky mess of various bodily fluids right now.

"Guess we'll have to reschedule dinner for tomorrow, though," Soshiro mused, the hint of amusement dancing through his husky rasp impossible to miss. "Or possibly the week after…"

You didn’t have time to question his words before you felt the telltale twitch and swell of his cock stirring back to life where it was nestled against your thigh.

"What the hell was in those chocolates?" you demanded with a squeak of surprise.

He grinned wolfishly, rolling you onto your back and hovering over you like a predator cornering its prey. "Not sure, but I've got a few ideas of how we can burn it out of my system..."

[reidmotif]

Check Your Window (He's At Your Window)

Summary: Reader discovers her window faces into the apartment of her very attractive building neighbor, Spencer. She's willing to do anything for his attention. He's willing to reward her for her efforts.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: voyeurism, lingerie, masturbation, slight dubcon (but for like 5 seconds i swear), nipple play, penetrative sex, apartment break-in.

Word Count: 3.9 k

Masterlist

It’s natural to believe you’re safe in your place of residency. You’re given locks, blinds, a security gate- all measures designed to invoke a false illusion of privacy. Of course, there are defects that no one can plan for that have the ability to shatter this illusion. 

Mine happened to be a badly placed window. 

Finding this apartment felt akin to love at first sight. It sounds dramatic, but I’m serious. Do you know how horrific real estate is these days? But when my eyes came upon piano oak flooring, the soft light of the day streaming onto a marble island, and of course, an in-home washer/dryer system, I was sold. 

Due to my inherent awkwardness around meeting strangers,  and lack of overt charm, I’d never been one to initiate introductions with my neighbors. I moved in quietly, packing up my life into neat little boxes and dispersing them throughout the emptiness of my new space. It was only then, when I realized a strangely placed window that seemed to fall exactly where I’d wanted my bed to be. 

And while examining my outlandish situation, I saw him. 

I didn’t want to assume he’d been watching me. I wasn’t paranoid like that. Nevertheless, I didn’t want to give off the aura of, for lack of better words, a creep,  so the quick aversion of my eyes from his gaze felt instinctual. Curiosity won over me a millisecond later, though, and against my better judgment, I quietly peered into the window again, wondering if the man in the glass had slipped away, or had looked away from where our eyes met last. 

What I hadn’t anticipated, however, was to be met with the unflinching stare of his eyes, far from concerned with how he came off, holding his gaze with an almost disconcerting and defiant presence. 

He gave me a subtle nod, before walking away, disappearing from view. I was left feeling.. unsettled. But also strangely thrilled. There was a certain peculiarity in knowing you were susceptible to an audience at any given moment. I vaguely recalled social facilitation as a possible explanation as to why the concept roused me the way it did, but whatever it was, I didn’t feel compelled to attach curtains or any kind of barrier to avoid the phenomenon. 

While my thoughts occasionally drifted to the man, I didn’t actually know anything about him. He lived in the building beside mine, so we didn’t even share so much as a landlord. I truly never expected to gain any insight on him besides the location of his domicile in relation to mine, and the thought didn’t bother me by any means.  I was completely fine with letting our connection stay as severed as it was. 

Fate, on the other hand, had other ideas. 

I found myself a few weeks later, struggling with an overstuffed grocery bag in front of my building, and in a terrible game of mismanaged weight and the flimsiness of grocery-store plastic, my bag gave way, scattering the contents of it across the ground. Further misfortune plagued me, as the bag in question had been holding a good pound of lemons, that rolled quite far from where I’d been standing. I immediately dropped to the ground, trying to gather up the ones by my feet in my arms, and noticed a presence nearby doing the same and bringing the runaway citrus to me. I was thankful, and was ready to express my gratitude to the helpful samaritan, until I saw a flash of recognition collectively pass over our faces as we made eye contact. 

Him. The man in the window. 

“You dropped these.” He says, his voice a little quieter than I’d expected from him, and I nod. 

“Yeah, no. It’s these bags. Not really equipped to hold a pound of lemons.” I say, trying to gather the rest to my chest, our eyes still trained on the other. 

“Can I ask why a pound of lemons?” He asks, a sort of playful lilt in his voice. 

“Lemonade.” I say, almost immediately. 

There’s a bit of confusion that flashes over his face. “Are you making a joke?” He replies, furrowing his brows a bit. 

I realize that my response might’ve come off as too deadpan, and I shake my head to correct his misconception. “Oh, no. I’m serious.” I say, offering a grin.  “I love lemonade. There’s a work party I’m attending, and I offered to make some for the office. Hence, the lemons.” I continued, gesturing at the aforementioned fruit, and feeling myself ramble slightly, but it didn’t seem to offend the recipient. 

“That.. is a surprisingly normal response, given the situation.” The man says, nodding. “I love lemonade too.” He adds. 

There’s a bit of silence as we both picked up lemons together, the man more focused than I on the task. I took the oppurtuinity within the lull of our conversation to truly examine the man, finally no longer separated by a pane of glass, and my observations all seemed to point towards one glaringly obvious conclusion. 

The man in the window was hot.

He appeared older than me, yet his age did nothing to diminish the beauty of his features. His doe-like eyes seemed to shine with the same curiosity that I felt towards him. His hair was a bit longer than I’d expect from a man his age, but it suited him. The smooth slope of his nose had a certain charm to it, and his cheekbones were impossibly sharp. I wanted to run my thumb over the bone, and kiss him senseless until we could barely remember our own names. 

“I’m (Y/N). You’re free to come over.” I say, a little more rushed than I’d wanted to. “For the lemonade, of course.” I add, trying to not drop the ball when it came to inviting this gorgeous man over to my apartment. 

“Spencer.” He replies, offering his name to me. “I'll keep it in mind.” He says, smoothly. He flashes me a kind smile as he places the last of the lemons into my other bags or directly into my hands. 

I’d hoped “I’ll keep it in mind” meant “within the next few days or so” but waiting seemed futile after a certain amount of time had passed. He never came, and I even stopped seeing him as often through the window in passing. In hindsight, it was rather naive to genuinely expect a near-stranger to come to my apartment, on account of an invitation that could have been interpreted as a thinly-veiled proposition.

It felt a bit dull, his lack of interest. I’d had a taste of his attention, and for some reason, I was hooked. It was irrational, and illogical, but I couldn’t help the desire I felt simply at the thought of this man. And in a mixture of perversion, desperation and pure brainlessness, I tried to use the one thing that had rarely failed me in the past. Sex. 

I reasoned by telling myself it wasn’t like it was guaranteed he’d see me. 

And it wasn’t as if I was standing directly by the window, exposing myself for his pleasure, and his pleasure only. So hey, if he saw my figure adorned in lacy lingerie in passing, and felt compelled to act on that in any way he chose, well. No harm, no foul, right? 

So that’s exactly what I did. To my benefit, it was one of the hottest summers D.C had ever had, so the lack of clothing worked in my favor.  I’d always felt quite confident in my own skin, so lounging around in bras, panties, barely-there cover-ups around my apartment didn’t strike me as the oddest thing to do.  I felt comfortable, and in turn, possibly seducing the man in the window. Win-win. 

And “win” I did, in some way at least, because I noticed the arrival of lingerie correlated in a sudden uptick in the times I’d see Spencer taking a longer-than-normal glimpse into my apartment. It was fucking exhilirating, to have his regard in this strange, taboo way. I’d find myself imagining him, surrounded by a sea of sheets and pillows slowly stroking his cock to the images of my scantily-clad body. I had no real way of verifying if this was the actual case, but the fantasy was enough to bring heat to my cheeks and an ache in my panties. 

It started to drive me a little crazy, however, when after a week of this,  literally no tangible reward came from the fruits of my labor. While I’d enjoyed his eyes on my form, that seemed to be all he was capable of. He seemed completely at ease with just watching (to my utter dismay) and it seemed the action I wanted him to take was sorely out of reach. 

Reflecting on his shy, soft demeanor from the one time we’d spoken, I concluded that he might not be as forward as I am. It made sense; he never seemed to have visitors in his apartment and, seeming to be in his 40s without a stable partner, he probably wasn't accustomed to a woman's attention in this way. He didn’t exactly exude “womanizer” anyway from what I knew about him, and I began to connect his lack of initiative to these points.

 It didn't deter me from continuing my attempts though. At best, I was at least providing a lonely middle-aged man some sorely needed imagery in the meantime. I’d always been a giver, anyhow. 

It’s reasonable to assume there’d be some payoff down the road, right? 

Wrong. I continued to wear increasingly revealing lingerie, going as far as just walking around naked once in a while. Nothing. I was a fucking saint at this point for continuing this for him.

It didn’t help that my mind insisted on taunting me with what I couldn’t have, as a moment of spare time in my day would constantly be preoccupied with thoughts of him in my bed, pinning my hands down and kissing up and down my neck. I’d imagine him pounding into me, or bouncing up and down on his cock, bringing us both to the throes of pleasure. I couldn’t halt the depravity of my thoughts, no matter how hard I tried.

What I also couldn’t stop, was the slow descent of my fingers into my panties one night, finding a delectable mess within them, signifying my deep arousal associated with the man. It’d been a long few weeks,  the smell of summer and heat encasing my apartment, and a profound craving I couldn’t resist. I breathed out a sigh of relief as I began rubbing the small nub, alternating between up and down motions, and then a slow, circular rub. Little moans poured out my lips, before I quickly shed my panties entirely, watching a string of arousal stuck to them, kicking them haphazardly to the side, wanting more access to my clit. 

My eyes naturally closed as I found myself lazing towards the precipice of release. Soft sighs and moans filled my apartment as I let my fingers rub a bit more desperately. I could see flashes of him again behind my eyes, his hand on me, instead of my own,  mirroring the actions I was performing. A gasp of his name came tumbling out of me as the image became clearer and clear, my eyes opening almost frantically as I felt myself closer and closer. 

That’s when I got the strangest sensation, and felt a pair of eyes on me. I jolted my head to the left, and saw Spencer, who was clearly watching at this point. His gaze was entirely trained on me, and similar to the first time he saw me, our eye contact didn’t deter him from his observation. 

I refused to let it either, and kept my gaze trained on him. I was entirely exposed. I wouldn’t have been able to stop my actions if I’d had a gun to my head. It just felt too fucking good. A moment more of eye contact from him, and I felt the familiar clench and release from my body, waves of pleasure wracking my body. I let out another moan, but not once did my eyes leave his, as my back arched against my sheets, a silent plea on my part being conveyed.  

Come here. What could you possibly be waiting for? 

I watched him disappear from the window as I finished, both literally and figuratively, and panted, wondering if finally, finally, my prayers and fervent supplications would be answered. 

After about 30 minutes, my anticipation was replaced with severe disappointment when I realized even after then, he wasn’t coming. I could no longer see him in the window, and at this point it seemed a little silly and pathetic to continue expecting him to come. 

Maybe he was just entirely sexually inadept. That could be a possibility, right? How much more explicit could I get than this? I’d masturbated in front of him! Albeit, through a window, but masturbation regardless! Was this seriously all he was willing to do? 

I roll my eyes at the thought. I came to accept that maybe, truly, there was nothing I could do to get this man to fuck me the way I deserved. Fine.

As I closed my eyes to get some necessary rest after my endeavors, I made up my mind that I’d buy curtains tomorrow. Fuck Spencer Reid, and his absolute inability to take any action in his goddamn life. Fuck this apartment. Fuck everything. 

Was I dramatic? Yes. Was I still right? Also yes. 

Despite the sour mood I’d taken to bed with me that evening, my dreams were anything but. The idea of Spencer Reid holding me down, whispering sweet and dirty nothings alike were all still incredibly tantalizing to my subconscious. I could hear his voice in my ear, soft pink lips brushing against the shell of my ear, a deep pressure imprinted onto my body, keeping me in my bed. 

“Wake up, sweetheart.” He murmured, beckoning me out of the peaceful cocoon of sleep. 

I felt a few more wet and warm kisses trailing up and down my neck, the sweetest sensation of pleasure being granted to me with every touch he gave. 

“Need you to wake up, pretty girl.” He mumbles. “You really are so pretty up close.” His voice is slightly patronizing, and it does nothing to help the excitation that was steadily growing inside of me. 

Suddenly, I became incredibly aware that the stimuli I was receiving didn’t appear to be a byproduct of my psyche, but rather- he was here? My eyes opened slowly to realize I wasn’t at all mistaken, the soft brush of his brown hair against my neck slightly tickling me as I came to. 

“Atta girl.” He mumbles, his lips still mapping out every inch of my skin. Out of pure instinct, a slightly alarmed moan came from me, still unsure if I was dreaming or not. Surely I had to be dreaming. I had to be, because how the fuck did Spencer Reid get into my apartment? Into my bed? 

“You want this, yeah?” He murmurs, taking a second to gaze down at me. I realized he’d been on top of me this whole time, and the pressure I’d felt in my dream was his skin on mine, trapping me in between his strong chest and the soft sheets adorning my mattress. “I know you do. Saw your little show and everything.” He breathes out, desperately, almost. 

I know I should’ve thought about it. Perhaps I should’ve pondered on the idea of letting a man who’d just broken into my apartment full access to my body as he pleased, but there was no time. He was here, and how could I have ever said no to that? 

There’s an equally as desperate and breathy, “yes” that escapes my lips, and before I can finish saying the word, he dives down, meeting my lips with his, absolutely devouring me with no hesitation whatsoever.  If I'd thought his previous ministrations were delightful, this was absolutely heavenly. 

I moan softly into his mouth, wanting to tangle my hands in his hair, or latch them onto his shoulders and sink my nails deep into the skin that resided there- anything to show even a semblance of control in this situation, but it seemed Spencer had already thought of that, pinning my hands against the mattress so tightly, I couldn’t have moved if I’d exerted every last bit of strength into it. 

“God, the first time- first time I saw you.” He mumbles in between kisses. “With those lemons. I knew they’d fall. Saw you through the window across the street and practically ran. Wanted to meet you so badly.” 

A small whimper escapes me, and I can’t help but get wetter at the thought. I knew he’d been watching me through the window, but the idea that I captured his attention, outside of my apartment, in the most mundane of situations only served to heighten the arousal I felt, my thighs rubbing together for any kind of relief. 

He notices the movement and grins, planting one last kiss on my lips before slipping down. His hands cup the backs of my knees, forcing me to spread my previously shut legs. 

“You had the prettiest voice.” He breathes out, examining my glistening heat. “Fuck. Couldn’t stop thinking about how you’d sound, screaming my name.” He leans forward, planting a chaste kiss on my clit that caused an incredibly breathtaking jolt through my body. 

“Spencer-” I moan, my head rolling back as I felt it, my back arching slightly. 

“Yeah, just like that.” He mumbles, clearly pleased. “Good girl.” 

His hands traveled upward from where he’d been situated between my legs and squeezed my breast blindly. It didn’t feel like it was for my pleasure, but rather that he was desperate to touch anywhere he possibly could. Anyone else, and I might’ve been annoyed with the incessant touching, but with him? 

 It was so fucking hot. 

“That goddamned lingerie.” He mumbles. “The things I wanted to do to you. Did you know that?” 

I looked at him through hooded lids, unsure what he meant, and he took my diversion of attention to quickly tweak one of my nipples, eliciting another surprised moan from my mouth. 

“I’m so much stronger than this, usually.” His large hands continue to squeeze and grope at my breasts. “But you.” He whispers, a hint of a growl making its way into his tone. “Had to push the limits. Practically begging me to come here and take you.” 

I let out a gasp as I felt his hands trail down my stomach, the cool touch of his fingertips causing the muscles to tense up there. 

“I’m gonna do it.” He whispers, his face only illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the open window, but I could still see the dangerous glint in his eye, thrilling me even further. “Fuck you exactly how you want it.” 

Before I’m able to react to the sentiment, he’s grabbing onto my hips and turning me over, a yelp drawn out from me. 

“Hands and knees.” He says, in an authoritative tone that doesn’t leave any room for any disagreement. I comply quickly, much to his elation. 

“You’re so good for me, yeah? Gonna ruin you. Just how you want.” 

There’s a hint in condescension in his tone, like he’s making fun of me for wanting to be fucked this badly, but I can barely pay any mind about it, especially when I feel his cock slotting itself betweet my folds, separated only by his boxers, a shaky moan coming from Spencer. 

I can feel his hands leaving my hips and the slight lean away as he quickly shucks off the fabric, and within the next second, he’s pushing into me, providing me with a stretch and fulfillment that was so much better than I could’ve ever imagined. It doesn’t take him long to set a fast pace, the sound of our skin slapping and the smell of sex permeating the room. 

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He moans out, and I let out similar noises in tandem. 

I can barely find it in me to stay coherent. I want to scream how good he feels, how big his cock feels in me, how close I was- but instead the only thing I could manage was the borderline scream of his name and loud sobs of pleasure, fully at the mercy of the man behind me. I can feel the way I clamp down on him, absolutely imploring him for as much as he could give me. 

“Gonna come for me, yeah?” He says, feeling the clench of my walls on his cock.  “Come on, pretty girl. Give me what I want.” He murmurs lowly, leaning down closer to my ear. His hand shoots out a moment later, beginning to rub my clit, similar to how I had been doing a few hours earlier as he watched me, and the memory and sensation of it is enough to hurl me off the edge, my walls tightening around his cock as waves of pleasure wracked through my body.

It seemed that was enough for him as well. I felt his hips still, and a sudden warmth at my deepest point. He let out a groan of relief as he thrusted once, twice more, and then pulled out, his cum slipping down my thighs as he plopped down next to me. I’d already collapsed the second he pulled out, panting as I came down from the orgasm. 

“You good?” He mumbles, wearily, and I can feel him moving aside my hair to kiss at my shoulder. 

“Mhm.” I murmur back, a small sigh of relief escaping me. There’s a beat of silence, before he breaks it.

“Tomorrow.” He murmurs. “Wanna go out with me?” 

I raise an eyebrow, turning at him with a playful expression- as playful as I could get in this state anyway. “Where to?” 

“Target.” He mumbles, still stroking my back lazily, his eyes shining with something less intense than lust now, but still enough to turn my stomach over with butterflies.

“Target?” I say, squinting my eyes. “Why Target?” 

“We’re buying you some curtains.” He says, a small grin appearing on his face. “And maybe a stronger lock.” 

I giggle at that, rolling my eyes a bit.  “But then you don’t get to see me anymore. I kind of liked what we had going on.” 

“I did too.” He whispers, his tone slightly vulnerable now. “But I like this a lot more.” 

A small smile plasters itself to my face as I nod.

 “Me too.” I whisper back, biting my lip. 

A mutual understanding passed through the both of us as we smiled at each other in the dark, and for a split second, I imagined myself possibly loving this more someday. 

All in good time. Right now, I was going to sleep, protected by his soft, strong arms. That was enough for now. We’d finally gotten what we wanted. 

woah!! trying to finally get back into writing semi regularly i see. i hope this was enjoyable. this is one of those pieces i'm kind of unsure about, so please, please interact if you liked it! likes, comments, reblogs, anything! or let me know if you didn't! i live for feedback of any kind. thank you for reading anyhow, i am very grateful for it <3

also lol if it wasn’t obvious i listened to “she” for fic inspo lol. linked below

[natailiatulls07]

New wag in the paddock

Summary - Being the newest wag in the paddock can be quite daunting but with the right people around you, it's all okay

Warning - None <3

A/n - Slowly easing back into writing?? We'll see lol

-

Walking into the paddock with beyond nerve racking, with photographers just inside of the entrance and fans just outside of the entrance - I had no where to hide or breathe.

Luckily walking alongside me with Rebecca Donaldson, Carlos' partner. Because of our partners friendship, we were close friends. She had become someone who'd help me and become like a sister to me in the paddock and even beyond.

This morning particularly she had come over to mine and Landos suite to help me get ready for my first paddock day just after him and Carlos had left. Helping with picking out a gorgeous dress, helping with my makeup and also my hair. Like my own fairy godmother in a way.

'Wow there's a lot of people here...' I whisper in her direction, my eyes took in the busyness of a Sunday morning race day paddock. Next to me, I feel her laugh - She's used to this.

With a soft nod and a slip of an arm round my back, Rebecca is quick to reply. 'Yep it's a race day in Miami, you'll get used to it...' I feel her gently pushing me along, prompiting me not to run back out and go back to the safety of the hotel.

-

It wasn't long before she dropped me off at the McLaren hospitality. Wishing me good luck with a hug and a warm smile before I stand pathically watching her leave me to defend for myself - Almost like a child would whilst being dropped off for their first day of school. In a sense, it was exactly that; I had been dropped off and know expected to make friends until someone I knew would come and safe me.

I breathe in, turn on my heel and walk quietly into the McLaren hospitality. Inside it's modern and high tech, obviously very well thought out. There are multiple seating areas, some small groups accompanying a couple. I can smell fresh coffee as I walk over to a small sofa, sitting there anxiously.

Opening my phone, I can already see multiple notification from various social platforms. I hazard a guess that they are mostly all gossip sites tagging me in their posts.

But one notification stands out to me.

It's on instagram, informing me that I've been added to a groupchat. More specifically a groupchat for the f1 wags. My heart warms at their consideration and kindness, so this is what it feels like to be in a big friendship group of girls.

Soon a few messages start to load into the chat;

lilymhe - Heyyy Y/n! Welcome to the group, this is a safe space for you always xx

francisca.cgomes - Yeah all the girls are in this group so we all gossip, vent and help out in here! Girls support girls obv <3

carmenmmundt - Hi sweetheart!

kellypiquet - Literally if you need anything, send a quick message here and we'll help always x

alexandrasaintmleux - Babes I just saw the photos, you look STUNNING!!! <333

I don't even the big smile that forms on my lips, the feeling of acceptance heavy on my mind. Accidently I don't notice the person in front of me until I hear a soft cough. Looking up I recogise Lando trainer, Jon, stood waiting patiently with a small smile. I gasp at my oblivion. 'Oh my gosh, I'm sorry! You haven't been stood there long, gosh how oblivious can I get?' I nervously ramble.

I've only met him a hand full of times and to keep him waiting felt very rude of me. A soft chuckle escapes his lips as he shakes his head, prompting me to breathe out a sigh of relief.

'No don't worry, I came to get you cause you're boyfriend wants to see you before the race starts...' He explains, watching as I quickly gather my things - I don't want to keep him waiting any longer. 'Hey, no need to rush...' He chuckles, sensing my nerves. It'd be hard not to.

Notable I slow down, no longer rushing to collect myself. I let out a soft sigh, a smile screwing itself onto my lips. And once I have everything, I let Jon lead the way through to Landos garage.

As soon as we walk into the garage, my eyes are immediately drawn to Lando who is stood talking to a few engineers. With his classic smile on his face, something I really do adore is watching as he talks about his job - He really does love it, possible more than me.

I stand there for a few seconds, not wanting to intrude on his conversation. Around me the team work around the garage, clearly buzzing with pre race excitement, nerves and preparation - Something Jon went along with when we arrived.

Then suddenly, I feel eyes on me and I notice Lando walking towards me enthusiastically. As soon as I am in arms reach, I feel his arms slip comfortably around my waist. 'Hi...' I smile, slipping my own arms around his neck. 'How are you doing?'

Lando takes a few seconds, just staring lovingly at me before smirking. 'Good, better now that you're here. How did this morning go? You and Rebecca get here alright?' He questioned, very grateful that I had someone to join this morning.

I nod keenly, moving on to explain about my morning as my hand start to play with some of his mullet. 'Oh I was added to the wag groupchat, they're all really nice people. They said that I can talk to them about anything and ask for advice you know. I've only really met Rebecca so they don't they even know me but they still like accept me, I thought that was the sweet thing ever...' Unintentionally I go onto ramble about the other wags befriending me, only really stopping when I notice his gaze and gentle warm smile. 'Sorry I'm rambling...'

Looking around us, I can see some engineers watching curiously. A mix of his gaze on me, my realization and the engineers watching all make me blush deeply. 'No it's okay...'

His british cuts through my thoughts, reassuring me. 'I'm really happy that you got them beside you, they know what you're going through a lot more than I will ever so that's great!' One of his hands moves up to caress my cheek lovingly.

A comfortable silence falls on us for a few seconds, before I speak up once again. 'So are you ready for the race today? Is the car good?' I ask, despite not really understanding the sport I'm desperate to learn through Lando.

He turns, watching as the engineers do their final preperations and work and nodding confidently. 'Yeah all good! I've got my good luck charm with me and the car is set to do magic today!' Even the way he explains everything, there is a lot of excitement in his voice. I nod, careful to take in all the information he's telling me.

Our conversation continues for a few more minutes before he's notified that he has to make a move to get the car out onto the track. Quick Lando turns back towards me, smiling and pulling me into a tender kiss. 'I love you! Wish me luck!'

I return the same energy and excitement. 'Good luck Lan! You've got this! I love you too!'

-

1.2K

[2kiran]

BOYYYYY THE MILKMAN SMUT WAS SO GOOD. care for another one? i NEED to fuck the real francis mosses now…i’m imagining the doppelgänger being jealous asf of him too ouuujhhhh

FRANCIS MOSSES 交易 ── `` DARK CONTENT﹕nonconsensual voyeurism. top amab reader. doppelgänger francis is watching, real one doesn’t know it. dry humping. clothed sex. different timeline from prev fic. ✶ IN WHICH francis wants to be more than just a neighbor.

for who to blame, you don’t permit yourself to think. francis, the lovely neighbor, is propped on your lap. poor man was flustered, sweat gathering on his skin like a coat. gullible; and so unaware. entirely dumb of the fact that his doppelgänger was gazing upon the scene through the crack of your bedroom door. you could almost imagine the creature’s expression, twisted in envy.

your palms cupping his hips, which are erratically pressing themselves against you. chasing after the friction he craved during the in-between’s of his working hours, pent up frustrations translating into insatiable sexual desire.

“gosh, ‘m sorry... hnngh, needed to feel you against me.” his teeth grit with a whine, tucking his head to your shoulder. effectively obscuring his ever burning pit of shame which laid heavily in his gut.

supposedly, you were to help him of deliveries as a noble—not only a doorman but as well a—citizen. however, you were not put in a situation to complain whilst he clutched onto you as he switched to tantalizing grinds. “couldn’t wait anymore, hm?”

words a tease, he could feel himself losing track of the rhythm. sloppy and unexperienced; though not enough to be labeled as someone so pure from filth. “please,” the doppelgänger’s eyebrows wrinkled with disgust at the actual francis’ plea.

“please, i, mm,” and the milkman is at a loss for words.

the creature, despite his apparent hatred, palmed his cock within the confines of his pants. fuck, his tip was leaking with pre-cum that without a doubt painted his length in a creamy tone.

he was ablaze with jealousy while you got your dick wet with the one whose identity he attempted to steal. “say it.” the commanding quality of your voice left no room for objections that even he felt the obligation to speak his thoughts.

“can- can i take off your pants? i want you inside me..” what a darling francis mosses was.

a humming released from your sealed lips; he waits. “not completely,” he’s confused until you pull the zipper, freeing your cock from the side and his shyness returns. “better?”

francis nods, cheeks warmed at the scenery. the doppelgänger despised that. “i’m ready, did it myself this morning.” he sheepishly mumbles, releasing himself of his lower garments. “did you plan this?”

it’s taken as an accusation. “no!” could’ve been an exclaim if he wasn’t so breathless in effort of aligning his hole to your tip, “but i’ve... imagined it, you know. keep myself awake to— oh fuck.”

an inch, then a second, and now you’re void of a clue. rewarding yourself with the relief of triumph of the theory that he would feel a lot better than the copy; he is.

if you were to say that aloud, you’re sure the targeted one would be angry enough to keep you from finding your release.

francis’ thighs lay atop of yours, warming your cock with his sensitive walls. he tries to lift himself up, only to realize he was incapable. energy spent due to the earlier attempts. you are met with a whimper, a look in his eye, and the trembling of his lips.

the other tenants are certain to file a complaint.

masterlist﹒divider﹒artist kaworinx

[pinksturniolo]

hands on - chris sturniolo

warnings: nsfw content, smut

a/n:chris’s hands are sooo sexy i just had to write a lil essay on them 💦 i don’t know wtf this is, a blurb, drabble or hc but here u go 😭

✰ it’s painfully obvious (to me at least) that one of chris’s love language is physical touch and that means he would take his time running and caressing his large hands over your body, no doubt leaving goosebumps on your skin and making your heart race. he knows all your sweet spots, and loves to see the reaction your body has to his touch.

✰ when he holds hands with you, they almost engulf yours due to the size comparison. he’s always so soft, since he takes care of his nails and skin, and it drives you crazy just the way they look when he would rest one of his hands on your thigh, his veins showing when he squeezes you teasingly.

✰ speaking of teasing, chris would definitely rub your leg under the table at dinner, sneaking his fingers under the hem of your shorts, testing you to see how quiet you can be with everyone around. he would lean in close, his mouth against your ear so only you can hear him. “what’s wrong baby? feeling okay?” he would whisper as you visibly get nervous next to him, his hot breath on your neck as he inches his fingers even closer to the edge of your panties.

and the second he brushes your clit, rubbing you over the fabric and gathering your arousal on his fingertips, only to bring them up to his mouth, tasting you as he wraps his lips around his fingers…. you physically have to keep yourself from moaning aloud before excusing yourself to the bathroom.

✰ say it was your first time having someone touch you like that, the only exploring of your body done by your own hands. chris would be so patient and gentle with you. he takes his time getting you all worked up and ready for his fingers, kissing your lips, neck, chest and every inch of skin he can feel until you were panting and begging him to touch you. once he confirms you want this, he’s sliding his long slender fingers into you very slowly, the feeling of how wet and tight you are making him moan. “fuck baby, all this for me?” once you’re adjusted to the stretch, he revels in the little sounds and whimpers you make for him, and the feeling of his fingers filling you up is an almost overwhelming pleasure.

he would coo against your neck, “shhh ‘s okay mamas i got you, just relax. does it feel good? yeah?… shit- “ he looks down, watching the way he slips in and out of you. “you’re so fucking pretty, i can’t believe i have you all to myself..”

✰ you would be hyper fixated once he made you cum from just his fingers alone, to the point you had to pull him into one of the supply closets at the triplets warehouse when you guys were just hanging out one day. he had been teasing you all afternoon. sitting across from you and mindlessly scrolling on his phone, signing pictures, spinning the basketball on his finger. okay, maybe he was oblivious to the effect he had on you by simply doing nothing but you just couldn’t help it. you needed him. so you pull him towards the closet in the hallway, away from everyone, and push him against the wall once you’re inside, pressing your lips to his and gripping his arms and shoulders, his muscles flexing underneath your touch.

“what’s gotten into you?” he asks, a smirk on his face as he knows damn well what you’re craving and he doesn’t wait for your response before turning your body around so now you’re the one pressed against the wall as he stands behind you, his hands around your waist, briefly grinding his crotch against your ass before he slides his hands under your skirt, feeling the way you’re already so soaked for him. “please chris… i need you…” you admit, your voice coming out breathy and his eyes roll back into his head from the way you beg for him, as he thrusts two fingers inside you, wasting no time. you cry out as he slaps his hand around your mouth, muffling your sounds. “quiet baby, you don’t want everyone to hear us do you?”

you moan repeatedly into his hand and grip onto his arm tightly as he fingers you from behind, his boner pressing into the back of your thigh as he grinds against you, getting off from your neediness. his raspy voice rattling praises into your ear, “you wanted my fingers that bad baby? how do you think you can take my cock later if this is how worked up you get hm?… you can use me anytime you want, mama… you’re so perfect, just for me”

taglist!! <3

@sturniolopepsi @tillies33ssss @whicked-hazlatwhore @riasturns @christhopersturniolo @junnniiieee07 @seahorsie11 @inveigledvex @mattslolita @certifiednatelover @glassesmattsbae @eryismum @sturncakez @wh0resstuff @ribread03 @sturniololoco @75sturn @mattscoquette @jnkvivi @h3arts4harry @chrizznmetswife @bambi-slxt @streamermattsgf @mattspolitank

[willowsnook]

Done Waiting

Lando Norris x bsf!reader

She isn’t you

Hi, could I request a salami sandwich with tomato on wheat bread, please, and thank you. Request from @itsnotsophiasworld

—-------------------------------

MF: SOS, can anyone fly to Spain to check on Lando? From what I’ve gathered, he is staying in an Airbnb by himself and very much in his head. I’m caught up in some work stuff, or else I’d make the trip myself. 

Your heart sank reading Max's text to your friend group. Lando had been having a rough season and was constantly getting ripped apart in the media, no matter what he did. All you could do was make sure that he knew you were there for him and try to be around as much as possible, which was easy as you also lived in Monaco. But after the last race before summer break, none of you had heard from him. 

Looking at flights, you quickly replied to the group saying that you could go. One of the many perks of working remotely was that you could pick up your computer and go anywhere, so leaving to help Lando was a no-brainer. There was a flight leaving tonight, so you purchased that and started to pack. 

You wished the world could see him the way that you did. He was a caring, down-to-earth friend who would do anything for the people he loved. It was hard for anyone who knew him not to like him, and it was hard for you not to be in love with him. 

It hadn’t taken you long after meeting him to fall for his charm, but he had been dating someone else then, so you settled for friendship. That was three years ago, and you’d dated guys since, but the feelings still lingered. He could make you feel like you were the only girl in the world, so it was easy to get sucked in. 

Ultimately, you valued your friendship too much to ever act on it, even when you were both single. You’d been through too much together to risk losing him. You had a hunch that he felt the same way about you because of how overly affectionate he was with you compared to everyone else and that you were usually his first call. Still, his life was busy, and you understood that a girlfriend didn’t fit in that picture right now. 

Landing in Spain around 10, you grabbed your luggage before jumping in a cab to the address Max had sent you. The Airbnb was a cute little beach cottage right on the ocean, and you inhaled a deep breath of salty air and instantly felt better. 

The door to the house swung open, and you were greeted by what seemed to be a very irritated Lando. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Making sure you don’t do something crazy,” you replied, mirroring him with his arms. 

“I want to be alone.”

“I don’t care.” 

You stared at each other for a while, neither one giving in before he finally sighed and moved past you to grab your suitcase, grumbling to himself. The cottage had windows on the backside, allowing a constant view of the ocean, which you could appreciate. Lando put my luggage in the guest room before joining me as you looked at the water. 

“You didn’t have to come; I’m fine,” he muttered. You looked over at him with a sad smile, reaching your hand down to grab his. 

“I wanted to come.” He gave you a small smile, and you took in his exhausted state, noting just how bad it really was. 

“Why don’t we get some rest? Then you’ll be ready for a full day tomorrow,” you suggested, and he looked over at you. 

“I’m here to relax, y/n,” he said, and you smiled mischievously. 

“It will be relaxing, I promise.”

It was not relaxing. 

You dragged Lando out of bed at 7 a.m. to go on a run, and he was not happy with you, but you were just happy he came along. Jogging through the little town, you could tell that his mood was improving as he kept pace with you. 

Out of breath, you were hunched over as you two had climbed to the top of a dune. 

“Are you not relaxed?” Lando teased, and you gave him the finger. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?” 

“Yeah, I need to log on when we get back to the place,” you wheezed, and he handed you his water bottle. “What are your plans for while I work?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, scroll through social media hate, maybe watch all my old races and critique everything I did; the possibilities are endless.” 

Shooting him a look, you sighed, “That would be funny if I didn’t know you’d already been doing that.” 

He looked down at his feet, and you moved over to him, wrapping your arms around his torso. His head found your shoulder, he breathed deeply, and you held on tighter. 

“You’re going to be okay Lan,” you said, looking up at him. 

“I know,” he said sadly. 

Lando spent the rest of the day in the water while you worked, slipping away to get groceries for the night. He hadn’t had time to hide all the takeout bags and boxes he had been surviving on, so you figured a homecooked meal would do him well. 

Having dealt with him being a picky eater for a while, you were finishing up your favorite spaghetti and meatballs recipe when he came back into the house. 

“Smells great,” he commented and you smiled. “Can we eat outside?”

“You read my mind,” you replied, plating the food. 

Eating on the back deck, you felt a sense of serenity as the sound of waves crashing filled your ears. 

“This place is amazing; how did you find it?” You asked, turning to Lando. 

“Honestly, I just opened the app and picked the first place I saw that looked secluded,” he admitted. “I just wanted to be away from everyone.” 

“We are here for you to lean on Lan,” you said softly. “I’m never going to leave you.” 

“I know that, but I just don’t want to disappoint you,” he confessed, and your heart sank. 

“Lando Norris,” you said, forcing him to look at you. “There is nothing you could ever do to disappoint me. I am so insanely proud of everything you’ve accomplished. Please come back to Monaco with me tomorrow.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” He whispered, holding out his arms. You climbed into his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and running your fingers through his hair. 

“You buy me so much shit so I have to be nice to you,” you joked and he giggled. He pulled his head back to look at you, and your breath hitched because of the lack of distance between the two of you. Shifting, you tried to move back but his grip on you tightened so you leaned down to bring your lips to his. As you were a millimeter away his phone started to ring and you rested your head briefly against his, groaning internally. 

Sliding off of him you handed him his phone as it was Max calling. Hearing him tell Max he was coming home the next day made you smile, and you gathered all the dishes to clean up. He joined you a little later, and neither of you brought up the almost kiss; you wrote it off as something that happened in the heat of the moment. 

—------------------------------

Zandvoort was a dream, and you were so glad you made the trip with your friends. The next race you were going to was Singapore and Lando had invited you, Max, and some others to hang out the week before in Portugal. 

Your friend group had rented a big house, and you were ready to soak in the sun and relax after taking the week off work. Pietra and you had flown in together and met up with everyone that night at dinner. 

“Hi, I’m Mary,” a girl you didn’t recognize said to you, holding out her hand. You smiled back warmly, introducing yourself. 

“Mary and I met at a shoot early this year,” Pietra explained, and you nodded. You chatted with her for a while over dinner, glad to have another girl on the trip. 

You were less happy the next day when you watched this girl throw herself at Lando every chance she got. Right now, you were watching as she asked Lando how to show her how to hit the ball off the tee at the golf course where you guys were. 

“Ya know I went golfing with her two weeks ago, and she had a perfect swing,” Pietra muttered and you grimaced, watching Lando wrap his arms around the girl to guide her swing. It seemed like she would find a way to touch him no matter where you went. Up against him at dinner, clinging to him in the pool, leaning on him while you were watching a movie. 

At this point your jealousy was flaring up and you were trying to keep your composure, especially because this girl had been nothing but nice to you. What made it worse was that Lando entertained it, accepting her advances right in front of you. Your mind replayed that almost kiss back in Spain and the way the two of you had gotten closer since that trip. It had seemed to you that something was changing in your relationship, but clearly not. The whole trip you felt like your heart was being ripped apart and you were starting to wonder if you needed to take a break from being around him until you could get over your crush. 

Two nights before you were supposed to leave the group ended up at a club downtown as a pre-celebration for what you predicted would be a Lando win in Singapore. Rounds and rounds of shots were taken and you were dancing with Pietra on the dance floor trying to have a good time. 

You briefly glanced back at the VIP section, and your stomach dropped. Mary was sitting on Lando’s lap, and you watched as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Water instantly filled your eyes, and Pietra looked concerned before following your gaze. She looked at you with such sadness that you decided then and there that you were done. 

Leaving the club you walked back to the Airbnb alone. You weren’t sure if it was your drunkenness or just the emotional exhaustion of the situation but you started to get angry. Time after time, you were there for him and this is what you got back. It would be different if he had made it clear from the start that he wasn’t interested but he didn’t do that. He slept in your bed back in Monaco on nights like these, he spoiled you constantly with gifts, and you knew that he had told other drivers on the grid to back off from you, laying a claim. 

God, you were so fucking over it. 

You gathered all your stuff and threw it in your suitcase, calling for a cab to take you to the airport. You made it down the stairs just as Max was coming in. His face fell as he saw your bag. 

"No y/n don’t go,” he pleaded, and you shook your head, already feeling tears start to fill your eyes. 

“I can’t fucking do this anymore Max,” you said, voice cracking. “I have to protect my heart.” 

“You know he loves you,” he said moving towards you to hold you. “Everyone knows that.” 

“If that’s true, why have I watched him with her this whole weekend? Why did I just watch him sit there when she stuck her tongue down his throat right in front of me,” you yelled and Max stayed silent. “Exactly. I need some space to figure out how things can move forward between us.” 

Max helped you carry your bag outside and the two of you stood silently waiting for the car. Just as it pulled up, Lando walked up to the house, alone. 

“Y/N!” He called out, not seeing your suitcase yet. “Where’d you run off too? I was looking for you.” 

You turned around and his eyes widened seeing your tear stained face, his gaze flickering down to your bag. 

“What’s going on?” He asked hoarsely and you just shook your head turning back to get into the car before you started to sob. 

“Let her go mate,” you heard Max tell him and you looked out the window to see him holding Lando back. The sight made you cry harder as the car finally drove off. 

Lando’s POV

Watching the car disappear down the street, Lando turned to Max, panic and confusion colliding in his mind.

“Why is she leaving, Max? What the hell happened?”

Max let out a sigh, his eyes searching Lando’s face with a mix of frustration and pity. “Mate, she’s in love with you. And honestly, you’re in love with her too, even if you haven’t figured it out yet.”

Lando froze, the weight of Max’s words hitting him harder than he expected. He thought of all the moments he spent with you—the late-night talks, the shared laughter, the comforting silence. He thought about how he’d let Mary get close, but each time she reached for him, a nagging feeling crept up inside him.

She isn’t you.

The thought was so painfully clear now. It didn’t matter how kind or fun Mary was—she wasn’t you. And suddenly, he realized why none of it felt right.

“I need to go,” Lando said suddenly. “I need to go to the airport.” 

He took off down to the main street hailing a cab but when he finally got there, you were gone. 

—--------------------------------------------

You skipped the Singapore GP. You didn’t even watch it on tv so you didn’t know why everyone was wondering why despite winning, Lando looked miserable standing on the podium. 

He had texted you a million times begging you to call him but you declined the call everytime. You were trying to move on. You’d started running again in the mornings, working out of coffee shops,  and hanging out with your girlfriends. Basically you were doing everything in your power to not think of him; and it worked until 10pm each night. Then you were miserable. 

It was two weeks after Singapore when you heard knocking at your door one evening. You weren’t expecting anyone so you were especially surprised to see Oscar standing on the other side of your door. Considering he didn’t live in Monaco, you didn’t really know what to say, just stared at him silently. 

“May I come in?” He asked politely and you nodded, stepping aside to let him through. “Nice apartment.”

“Thanks,” you replied following him into the living room. “What are you doing here?”

He settled down on your couch, motioning for you to join him and you sunk down on the other side. 

“I need you to tell me what happened when you and Lando were in Portugal,” he said slowly and you immediately looked away. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you mumbled, playing with your hands. 

“It does matter,” Oscar insisted. “It’s okay if you finally rejected him but I need to know how to fix him.”

Your head snapped up, “I didn’t reject him Oscar. He basically rejected me.” 

“There’s no way,” Oscar said, shocked and you told him everything that had happened from you flying to Spain for him to him making out with that girl at the club. 

“Trust me when I say that I’m not trying to invalidate your feelings, but I feel like this is a big misunderstanding,” Oscar said and you rolled your eyes. “He is so in love with you y/n. All he does is talk about you.”

“Then why did he never tell me!” You said, voice rising. “I’ve been there the whole time Oscar, and he has never said anything. I want to be with someone who isn’t afraid to love me.” 

Oscar’s heart broke at your words, knowing you were feeling this way. 

“I came here y/n, because he is a mess without you,” he said. “I’ve never seen him like this and it’s starting to affect his racing so I’m begging you to at least think about talking to him.” 

—-------------------------------------

You would have thought that Lando would stop texting after a while but he didn’t. Every morning he texted you “good morning” and gave you updates on his day even though you weren’t responding. His plan seemed to be to slowly chip away at you until you were ready to come back and unfortunately it was working. 

Brazil was the next race that your friend group was attending and you went back and forth on what you should do before finally deciding to book a flight. Max must have told Lando because you immediately were notified that your flight had been upgraded and your hotel had been booked. 

Because of a work event, you weren’t going to be able to get there until Saturday night and probably wouldn’t see Lando until qualifying or after the race. You joined Max and Pietra on the track, bright and early on Sunday morning and you were wondering how Lando would survive with it being this early in the morning. 

Oscar gave you a big hug when he saw you and you could tell he was incredibly relieved that you were there. Qualifying was 20 minutes away and you heading towards the Paddock club when you turned a corner and were immediately wrapped up in two arms. Inhaling his familiar scent, you relaxed into his touch. 

“I missed you so fucking much,” he said into your ear and you hummed in reply. You were still unsure about pretending like nothing ever happened. He pulled back to look at you and his excitement was contagious, pulling a small smile out of you. 

“We’ll talk later okay?” He asked and you nodded. “I have a lot of things I need to say to you.”

He kissed your forehead before running off and you tried to keep your cool. Qualifying was good for him and you were feeling good about the race but a little nervous about the weather conditions. 

Sitting with Max and Pietra in the paddock club the mood was very much anxious. Lando had been doing great until a red flag reset everything. He had fallen down because of pitting and you watched as he went off the track on that first turn, your heart sinking. The rest of the race was a blur and he finished in P6 which you knew would not go over well with him. 

After the race, you felt hesitant heading back to the McLaren hospitality area. You weren’t sure if he’d want to see you, especially in his disappointment. But as you lingered by the entrance, you caught sight of him. Lando was drenched, exhausted, and his usual radiant energy seemed dimmed. Still, he locked eyes with you, a faint smile managing to pull at the corner of his lips.

He walked over slowly, stopping right in front of you. “You waited for me?”

“Of course I did, Lando,” you replied softly, feeling the gravity of the moment settle in. “I always do.”

He nodded, then glanced around at the crowded area. “Can we go somewhere… quieter?”

You followed him through the paddock until you found yourselves outside in a secluded spot overlooking the track. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Finally, Lando took a deep breath.

“I was an idiot,” he began, voice raw with honesty. “You don’t know how many times I replayed that trip to Portugal, thinking about what I could’ve done differently. I didn’t understand how much it would hurt you… I was blind to everything but my own mess.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he kept going, unable to hold back.

“You’ve been the best part of my life for years, and it took almost losing you to realize how much I’d taken you for granted. I’m sorry, y/n. I thought I was protecting you by not… admitting how I feel. I thought if I never said it out loud, maybe it’d hurt less. But I can’t pretend anymore. I love you.”

Hearing those words, the walls you’d built around yourself began to crack, the anger and disappointment from before softening as you looked into his eyes.

“I’ve loved you for so long,” you whispered and he gave you a soft smile. 

“I know, I’m sorry I didn’t see it before.” 

When he kissed you, it was tender and full of all the unspoken words and missed opportunities between you. As you pulled away, you both smiled, feeling the weight of the past couple of weeks finally lift.

[leclerc-hs]

it's cool, we're just friends? - cl16

pairing: college!charles leclerc x fem!reader (friends with benefits!) summary: in which you and a guy in your class are friends with benefits OR you and your friends with benefits might be more? warnings: smut under the cut! thigh-riding, throat-fucking, p in v sex!, no condoms (bad!), badly translated french (pls correct me), angst, pining, NOT PROOFREAD!!!! word count: 4.8k! author's note: so i ALMOST scrapped this entire thing because i wasn't sure how i felt about it so if it sucks, i understand LOL. i had a lot of fun writing this and can see myself writing a lot of scenarios for them like before there was this many feelings involved? like maybe a spring break one shot for them, when they hooked up for first time ;) PLEASE let me hear your thoughts and any comments you have. I love hearing from you guys xoxo

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

THE WEIGHT OF his eyes bore into the back of your skull, a palpable presence as you immerse yourself in the lecture before you. It’s almost become a ritual at this point: a magnetic pull compels you to glance his way, and there he is, a smirk stretching wide across his face, as if he holds the upper hand.

In that fleeting moment where your eyes meet his verdant gaze, a fierce intensity ignites within you. It’s as if a wildfire unleashes, consuming you with an unbridled mix of desire and exasperation. Your stomach tightens with a fervent ache, betraying the absolute irritation you feel at his ability to rile you up with one look.

Internally, Charles wrestles with the urge to gaze at you as though you’ve strung the stars and moon just for him. Yet, outwardly, he remains steadfast, unwilling to reveal his vulnerability when it comes to you. Instead, he masks his emotions behind a practiced smirk—a façade. And the blushing reaction you give him almost every time, only enthuses him more.

“Arrête!” You half-shout, though it emerges more as a whispered urgency amidst the large lecture hall.

Charles leans in over his desk, his lips hovering dangerously close to the shell of your ear, a proximity that sets your heart racing with a rapid intensity.

“Est-ce que je te verra ice soir?” Will I see you tonight?

You kept your head straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge the warmth of him being so close, resisting the allure of his voice. 

“Peut-être.” Maybe.

At the front of the lecture hall, Professor Bernard stands tall, his expression grave as he prepares his common ‘you guys are smarter than this’ speech about the recent exam grades. He highlights the alarming fact that more than half of the class received a 70% or lower. And true to his reputation as the kindest professor, he extends an olive branch by offering retakes to those who seek improvement before dismissing the lecture.

You gather your belongings, ready to make your exit, when suddenly, a heavy arm wraps around your shoulder just as you cross the threshold of the door.

You? Aced it. Charles? Not so aced it.

Which you knew meant you were helping him study as usual.

-

You watch as Charles runs his fingers through his disheveled locks, each movement betraying a hint of frustration and determination. His lips form a subtle pout as he fixates on the study material you laid out before him, his furrowed brows highlighting the depth of his concentration.

“Mon chou, je ne pensais pas que tu m’avais invite pour ça.” I didn’t think you invited me over for this.

With a gleam in his eyes, he wiggles his eyebrows playfully as he collapses on the many pillows of your bed behind him. The papers scattered across the bed threaten to take flight, but your swift reflexes saved them from soaring away into chaos.

You narrow your eyes in mock annoyance, but the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips betrays your amusement at the situation.

“Tu dois étudier.” You need to study.

Charles stares at the corners of your lips, his eyes not straying once from them even as you spoke. 

“Embrasse-moi d’abord.” Kiss me first. He nearly begs; his face almost completely covered by the hood of his sweatshirt as he laid on his back beside your cross-legged figure.

“Étudie.” Study. Your words were firm, yet you could feel your resolve slipping under the intensity of his gaze, as it traces a path from your lips to your eyes, igniting a warmth that stirred whenever he was near.

His arm reaches up behind your neck in a swift motion, too quick for you to even see it coming. His fingers grabbing the nape of your neck in a tight grip as he brings your face down to his, your body toppling over his in an unnatural position from his force. His lips collide with yours instantly, and the squeal you elicit gives him easy access to slip his tongue into your mouth. 

He groans softly against your mouth, something about how sweet your mouth tastes. The moan that escapes your lips and melded into his mouth drove him absolutely crazy. The grip on the back of your neck didn’t loosen as he held you to him, giving you no opportunity to pull away from him.

Your tank top cladded chest was pressed against the side of his body, embracing you in his warmth. You press a hand to his chest, attempting to push yourself up, but he groans against your lips in detest before loosening his grip on your neck. 

“Est-ce vraiment necessaire.” Do we have to? He begins to pepper kisses all around your face, his fingers dipping under the straps of your tank top, tracing intricate patterns of the soft skin beneath.

You slip your hand under the warmth of his hoodie, his toned muscles flexing under your cold fingertips as you trail your hand up his chest and slip one leg over him, straddling his thigh. His skin was so warm. Almost like a furnace.

He sucks in a breath, as if your touch hurt him, but really, he craved it. He wanted you everywhere. The tight leggings that adorned your body did little to prevent Charles from feeling the heat and arousal of your pussy against his thigh. A smirk widened on his lips almost instantly. He knew he had you right where he wanted you.

He could sense your contemplative thoughts by one glance at your eyes. As if you knew he needed to study, but you needed this more.

 You could barely concentrate the minute Charles sprawled onto your bed earlier, his legs spread and shorts riding up to expose the muscles of his thighs. It was even harder to think with the way his soft green eyes look up at you, and the way his fingers felt on you.

His hand trails from beneath the strap of your tank top, your hardened nipples more than visible through the thin fabric of it, to the front of your breasts.

“No bra?” His thumb rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger above the fabric of your shirt. “Planning on getting fucked, hm?” 

Your hips rut against his thigh almost instantly in response to his words. The feeling of his thigh against your clit, causing a soft moan to slip. It was then, that Charles seemed to lose all restraint as his hand grasped the side of your neck and squeezed lightly, his thumb resting in the center of your neck. He flexed his thigh, his eyes gleaming at the sight of your blown out pupils.

“Regarde-toi,” Look at you. He edged you on. “Just wanna ride m’thigh, yeah?” 

Your hips move in their own rhythm, unable to stop. It just feels too good. You nodded repeatedly as you lean over, pressing your chest to his, as he claims your lips once again. His hot, tongue sliding against yours as the stubble of his facial hair scratches your chin.

You struggle, losing the rhythm of your hips until Charles slid his hands down to your waist, guiding your movements. “C’mon mon chou, tu dois travailler pour ça.” You have to work for it.

“We should study.” You mention, the pace of your hips not stopping. As if your body has a mind of its own.

“Nous sommes.” We are. He argues, his fingertips squeezing into the skin of your hips even more. “Now, keep rubbing that pretty little pussy on me.”

-

“Oh, what about her?” You point to the pretty brunette that was currently leaned against the wall, a red solo cup in her manicured hand, as she was deep in conversation with a few other girls that you haven’t seen before.

Charles sighs heavily, rolling his eyes just slightly. “Why are you pawning me off?” He cracks a smile, his elbows gently hitting your side.

You let out a small laugh before bringing your own cup to your lips. The liquid of your drink resting on the top of your lip as you finished a sip and turned to look at Charles. “M’not!” You shrug your shoulders. “Elle est jolie and keeps looking at you thinkin’ no one’s noticed.” She’s pretty.

He wouldn’t know about the ‘pretty brunette’ you claimed was there. He didn’t know about any other girl that was here. His eyes haven’t left your figure the entire night. Since you stepped in the entrance of the house he was by your side, it was like his body knew you arrived.

“Peu importe ça, m’gonna go dance.” Whatever. You stick your tongue out at him, earning a deep laugh, and saunter off to find one of your friends already on the makeshift dance floor in the living room of the house. 

Charles leans casually against the wall, his eyes tracing the contours of your radiant smile from afar. Despite himself, a soft grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he takes in the sight of you.

“Are you sure you’re not together?” One of his friends, Alex, teases, leaning in close to Charles and handing him a red solo cup, its contents mostly frothy beer foam from an evidently lazy pour. “I was thinking of asking her out.”

Charles’s gaze drift from the frothy mess in his cup to Alex’s expectant face, a furrow forming on his brow. It wasn’t the foam that troubled him, rather, it was Alex’s words that unsettled him. How was he supposed to respond? We aren’t together but I think I’m in love with her?

Charles clenches his jaw, fighting back the urge to speak his truth, as the words “have at it” slip past his lips with a forced nonchalance. With a hollow smile, he raises the cup to his lips, swallowing the acrid liquid with a newfound eagerness that masked the bitter taste of envy and longing festering in his chest. As Alex made his way towards you, Charles couldn’t help but feel a pang of anguish, knowing that he was relinquishing his chance to confess his feelings, drowning them instead in the depths of a cheap beer.

-

“Mmm, tu es tellement douée.” You’re so good.

You weren’t quite sure how you ended up in this scenario. All you remember is being dragged away from a game of beer-pong with Alex, his fingers gripping your wrist so tightly it could’ve left marks, and shoving you onto your knees as soon as he shut the bathroom door. 

Dwelling on the how’s and why’s seemed inconsequential now. Especially with his cock buried deep down your throat like it is right now, and especially with the praises that slip past his lips.

Charles lulls his head back with a loud groan as he flexes his hips into your mouth, giving you little to no opportunity to breathe. No opportunity to speak. But you didn’t care. You would do anything to please him.

“Tellement putain de jolie, mon dieu.” So fucking pretty, my God.

“Bet you’re soaked under that dress, hm?” His grip on your hair tightens. “Got you all wet without even touching you.” His laugh is deep and mocking. You feel your thighs clench, like it was an automatic response. “Only I get you like this, yeah?”

You press your face forward, not even needing his force as you take full enjoyment in the feeling of him in your mouth.

“So eager, mon chou.”

You moan at the feeling of his smooth cock against the walls of your throat. The vibrations of your moan, immediately sending him over the edge. His white, hot cum spills down your throat, filling you up, before he pulls out. A long string of saliva follows, your eyes completely teary.��

He lifts you from your knees, the cool tile of the bathroom floor no longer your support, his thumb gently resting on your chin as he studies you for a mere second. Taking in the streaky tears under your eyes and your swollen lips. He could already feel the blood rushing back to his cock.

“Bet you’re leaking all over yourself, yeah?” You catch the smirk that pulls onto his lips before his lips crash down onto yours. His teeth nibbling on your bottom lip for a brief second before he’s pulling away, pushing you up onto the bathroom sink counter as he stands in between your spread legs. “All achy?” He cocked his head to the side a little, like he knew something you didn’t.

It was so fast, you weren’t even able to ask questions before he leaned forward, his fingers slipping into the lace of your underwear, pushing them aside, and pressing his hot tongue to your soaked core.

You swore you’ve never moaned so loud in your life as you just did in this moment.  At the feeling of the kitten licks on your clit, at the feeling of him shoving two fingers into you, finding that spot he knew you loved most almost instantly.

Your fingers franticly reached into his tousled locks, pulling his hair probably harder than necessary, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he moaned right into your pussy. Like he couldn’t ever get enough of you. Like he would stay licking you for forever if he could.

“Mon dieu,” My god. You squeal as your head lulls back against the cool mirror behind you and bite your lip trying to conceal the moans.

You look down at Charles, his eyes already staring at you, his green eyes completely darkened now. It makes your stomach do a multitude of flips. Your attempt to squeeze your legs shut from the pressure building in your stomach, but Charles grips his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh, holding them open.

A series of knocks are heard on the bathroom door which sends you into a total panic to which Charles yells “Va te faire foutre!” Fuck off!

 Your body squirms against Charles’ mouth and the granite of the countertop, but he holds you in place as if to say you’re not going anywhere until you soak my mouth.

He ate you out like a possessed man. Your chest is flushed red as the speed of his tongue picks up, sending you into overdrive. It wasn’t until he sucks harshly on your clit, the pressure of it, has you leaping over the edge into your orgasm. You came hard enough that your body arched, your fingers clenching his hair, pulling hard.

Charles doesn’t come up right away, he licks and licks until you’re pushing him off you. Both of your chests rose and fell in rhythm with each heavy breath, the lingering echoes of the lively party beyond the door gradually seeping back into your consciousness. It felt as though you had just descended from a faraway realm, returning to the bustling reality surrounding you.

His lips glistened, coated in you, as he stares at you completely fucked out on the bathroom counter. An unmistakable smugness in his expression.

His heart clenches as he drinks in the sight of you, so many emotions swirling in his chest. As you stretch your lips into that smile he loves so much, he feels a swell of warmth flood his senses, a tender ache stirring in the depths of his soul.

“Qu’est-ce qui te prend?” What’s gotten into you?

Not that you were complaining at what just happened. If anything, you wouldn’t mind if he wanted a repeat right now.

He nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, one hand leisurely slipping into his pocket, while the other moved to grasp the door handle. With a patient stance, he awaited your readiness before even considering opening the door. “J’avais juste besoin de toi,” Just needed you. He whispers, his voice carrying a tender resonance, emphasizing the depth of longing.

And then he’s swinging the door open, guiding you both back to the party.

-

“Je pense que nous devrions arrêter.” I think we should stop.

The words felt heavy in your throat as you said them, your hand clasped in Charles’ hand as you sat across from one another in the campus coffee shop.

Charles chuckled softly, taking a leisurely sip of his drink, but when be caught the seriousness in your expression, his laughter faded. His eyebrows knitted together, a pang of pain igniting in his chest and spreading like wildfire.

You watched as he leaned his head back against the booth, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as if unable to meet your eyes.

“Que veux-tu dire?” What do you mean? He met your eyes again, and you noticed a subtle shift in their hue—they were slightly darker than their usual shade of green.

“Je ne pense pas que ç ava marcher.” I don’t think this is going to work out. As you uttered the words, a queasy sensation churned in your stomach, making you feel like you were going to be sick. Similarly, Charles felt a wave of nausea wash over him upon hearing your words, his own stomach in knots.

Just looking at him had your eyes burning, but you refused to let the tears fall. Despite the overwhelming love you felt for this man, you couldn’t ignore the reality that it was unlikely to progress beyond the messy situation you found yourselves in. What were you supposed to do? Be friends that fuck for the rest of your lives?

You couldn’t do that. You wouldn’t do that. It wasn’t a spur of the moment decision. No, you’ve been thinking about this for so long, but cutting it off was just too hard. Cutting him off was too hard.

As you watched him slowly retract his fingers from yours, his hand moving to pinch the bridge of his nose while he blinked, a fiery ache within your chest grew.

“We’re friends, always, right?” You asked, offering him a soft smile, though inside, your heart felt like it was about to burst from your chest. You reminded yourself that this was necessary. You needed to go on dates. Not that he was exactly holding you back. It just felt wrong to go on dates while sleeping with another.

“Right,” he responded, his expression devoid of a smile. “Friends.” He nodded slowly, as if carefully considering the weight of the situation before him.

“Est-ce que je peux demander ce qui a déclencé cela?” Can I ask what brought this up? His fingers tapped restlessly along the edge of the table, betraying his impatience as he awaited your answer.

Meanwhile, you sat twiddling your thumbs in your lap, occasionally stealing glances at them. Why did this conversation feel so unbearably difficult?

“Quoi?” What?

“Est-ce que j’ai fait quelque chose?” Did I do something?

You shook your head instantly, a small blush forming on your cheeks. “I just,” You began, but felt flustered as you took a pause to look back down at your fingers and then him again. His eyes made you feel hot all over, the way they never strayed from your face whenever you spoke to him, the way they dropped to your lips every so often as if he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing you. He couldn’t.

“I just think I need to go on dates.” You nervously smiled.

“You think?” He scoffed, throwing one arm over the top of the booth, and resting it there as he fell into a relaxed position. His eye twitched slightly, as he flexed his hand and clenched it like he was holding himself back.

You’re not sure how to respond. You had anticipated this conversation to be brief, perhaps along the lines of “I think we should end this,” followed by his immediate agreement. But apparently, that wasn’t the case. You could feel yourself growing flustered the longer you sat here. Why couldn’t he just simply agree, no questions asked.

You nodded, with slight hesitance. Did you really want to end it with him? No.

He shrugged his shoulders, pulling a little smirk on his face as he usually did. “Très bien.” Fine.

And that was that.

-

Charles decided that he had it up to here when you strolled into the house party, lips shiny with gloss, and you hand held in none other than Alex’s. It was as if you were trying to torture him. Like you knew that he loved you and you just wanted to hurt him a little more.

He’s watching, you can feel his eyes burn into you as you turn your head, pretending to listen to Alex as he rambles on about some story. You don’t let yourself glance over to Charles until later in the night, when he’s leaned up against the kitchen counter, a half-empty beer bottle gripped in his hand, eyes already on you.

You felt your stomach do a multitude of flips from the eye-contact, that you even almost pulled your hand from Alex’s. Like you were caught doing something wrong.

You quickly realized that you had little to no self-control, especially when it came to Charles. With his hair pushed back and the linen shirt half-unbuttoned, allowing the toned and taut muscles of his stomach to peek through, it almost seemed as though he wanted to make it even harder for you to resist. Like he wanted to punish you for not choosing him.

He had you right where he wanted you, sort of.

“Shh,” Charles nips at your earlobe, eliciting a mewl from you as he presses you against the mattress of his bed. “You want everyone to hear what a whore you are, hm?”

Another string of moans leaves your lips as he thrusts into you, the pads of his fingers gripping the front of your neck tightly. His eyes fixed on yours, the pace of his hips was slow, but so deep. 

“Tell me,” Charles began, his tongue trailing along your collarbones and up your neck until his mouth hovered over yours. “Still wanna play stupid games with me, jolie fille?” Pretty girl.

You whined as his hips picked up in pace. “Ouvrir.” Open. You did so without a second thought, only to be met with a string of saliva meeting your tongue. Charles groaned as you swallowed his spit, eagerly.

“Still wanna pretend we’re just friends?” He could feel your walls trembling as her hand snaked its way to the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to meet hers. It was a tangle of tongues and moans.

“Does he fuck you as good as me?” You couldn’t handle the way he was talking to you, staring at you, touching you. “Gripping me like you’re gonna come.”

You shook your head repeatedly. 

“That’s it,” His voice was gentle in your ear. “So good, mon chou.” 

Your breaths were jagged and heavy as he took you harder and harder. “Rub your pretty little clit for me, yeah?” 

Your body was shaking as you trailed your fingers down, fingers playing with your clit. Charles rested on his knees, his eyes staring at his cock being swallowed by your pussy, and the way your fingers toyed with your sensitive clit. He groaned at the sight of his cock coated in you. 

It wasn’t long before you careening forward with a cry, your body arching off the bed, as you came around his cock. Charles fell forward over you, an arm on each side of your head, as he cocooned you. His hips didn’t let up as you sobbed out, your toes curling.

Charles could feel his resolve slipping at the feeling of your soaked walls clenching him. He threw his head into the crevice of your neck, the rhythm of his hips faltering as you wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him to thrust even deeper than before. He rolled his hips, pumping into you with such a fervent rush. 

“Mon dieu,” His groans were soft in your ear. “You feel so good.”

It wasn’t until you moaned in his ear, begging for him to come in you, that he lost all control. A deep moan, pressing his hips down against yours as he held you down, pumping his cum deep into you.

For a few moments, it was silent. Just the sound of your heavy breaths as Charles collapsed to the side of you. You both felt oddly at peace, even with the thumping of the house party music heard from the other side of his bedroom door.

Charles stood up, grabbing a towel from his bathroom, before bringing it to you to help clean you up. Something primal filled his chest as he stared at you sprawled on his bed, his cum dripping out of you. 

It was the last swipe of the towel when he finally spoke.

“We’re not friends.” He stated. He was sick of teetering around the topic. He was sick of seeing you with other guys at his house.

You opened your mouth to retort, but he held his hand up, essentially silencing you. 

“Stop pretending you want any other guy’s cock.” He stood before you as you sat up on the edge of the bed still naked, hands clenched at his sides in a fist. You began to stand up, your face turning red with anger, not because of his words but because he was right.

You grabbed your dress that was in a pile on the floor, slipping it on in a hurry. “Je dois partir.” I need to go. You began, “Alex me cherche probablement.” Alex is probably looking for me.

It was then that Charles raised his voice, if it weren’t for the loud music, you could’ve sworn the entire house would’ve heard.

“J’en ai tellement marre de ça!” I’m so sick of this! He runs his fingers through his hair, pacing the room back and forth. You felt your words caught in your throat as you stood still, your eyes following his every movement until he stood before you, his hands gripping your waist.. “Je t’aime!” I love you! He laughs after he says it, like he’s so pathetically in love with you and you have no care in the world for it.

“I cannot handle seeing you with another man.” He rambles off. “I cannot handle seeing you showing up here, to my home, holding another man’s hand.” He seethes, bringing his thumb and pointer finger to pinch the bridge of his nose as he breathes in, attempting to calm himself down.

“I know you love me.” His fingers grab your hand, pulling it up to his chest and holding it where his heart beats. Tears welled up in your eyes as you gazed at him, his eyes reflecting a wild intensity, his hair disheveled hair adding to his untamed allure. Sensing your vulnerability, he gently cupped your face with his other hand, offering you a tender touch. You leaned into his comforting embrace, as if seeking solace in his presence. With a silent nod, you pressed your head against his hand, a single tear escaping down your cheek, bearing witness to the depth of your emotions.

“I’m so sick of seeing people with what is mine.” He urged. “You can’t be someone else’s, not when you are already mine.”

“Charlie,” You drew in a deep breath, locking eyes with him, drowning in the depths of his green gaze. Every fiber of your being resonated with love for this man, an unshakeable devotion that consumed your soul.

“S’il te plait.” Please. His voice was a whispered hush as he begged. “Put me out of my misery.” 

He opened his mouth to continue, but you didn’t let him. You stood on the tips of your toes, leaning forward to press your chest against his as you pressed your lips to him. His arms immediately wrapping around your waist as you slipped your tongue into his mouth. He groaned at the taste of you in his mouth again, his cock already hardening for you.

You pulled off him, “Really?” He let a small laugh escape his lips as he pulled your mouth back onto his for a small peck.

“I’m a man in love.” He grins, like he has nothing to be ashamed about.

“Je t’aime.” I love you.

Charles tenderly pressed his lips to the side of your neck, his tongue tracing delicate patterns along the velvety skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Répète-le.” Say it again. He whispers, his voice husky with desire. As his lips continue down their intoxicating dance on your neck, his fingers trail the straps of your dress, gradually easing them down your shoulders with a tantalizing touch.

“Je t’aime.” I love you. He placed a small nip to your neck, eliciting a small squeal, as he lifted you up and carried you back to his bed.

“M’so in love with you,” He presses a kiss to your lips. “Don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

[oizysian]

02 // Sex in Public // The Tease

Summary: After being teased all night, Wanda takes her pleasure into her own hands in an unlikely spot.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: dirty talk, strap usage, sex outdoors

Word count: 690

Kinktober masterlist

I had been teasing her all night; while she was getting dressed, all through dinner, and now while we walked back to my car from the restaurant.

As I was getting my keys out to unlock the car, I felt her hands on my hips and her lips on my neck. She was behind me, pressing herself against my ass, pushing me up against the car door.

“Wanda, what are you doing?” I whispered, playing dumb.

“You know exactly what I’m doing.” She said as she unzipped my pants, sticking her hand inside and feeling around to see if I was packing. “Just as I thought,” she breathed into my ear. “You planned this all along.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I replied, my hips bucking at the feel of her hand in my pants. As much as I wanted her to touch me, I wanted her to fuck me instead.

“You’re not innocent.” She pulled the dick out of my pants and stroked it.

I looked down at her hand and bit back a moan. She was so hot when she thought she was in control.

“I am innocent. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Nothing wrong, but you’re certainly not innocent.”

I hummed in response, turning around and pulling her toward me, the dick pressing into her and causing her to whine with need.

“You wanted this even before I started teasing you.” I said softly, eyeing her up and down before lifting her dress up, bunching it up at her waist.

“I did,” she breathed, gnawing gently at her lip. “But I didn’t think you’d really take me here.”

“I’ll take you anywhere I want.”

I flipped us around, pressing her against the car and pulling down her panties, slipping two fingers between her folds and gathering her slick. I spread it along her slit and grabbed at my strap, bringing it to her ready wetness.

“Fuck, Y/N,” she whimpered as I entered her, grabbing her by the hips and guiding her down onto my cock. “Wait … we’re outside - someone will -”

“I hope someone does see what a whore you are for me. How you take my cock where anyone can see you.”

She rested her forehead against the car as I pounded into her, biting down on her lip to stifle her moans.

“Are you embarrassed now? You don’t want anyone to hear you?” She shook her head, her brow furrowed, and I knew this was turning her on. “What if someone walks by? Do you want me to stop? Or do you want to cum?”

“I want to cum.” She said softly - so softly I could barely hear her.

“What - was - that?” I said each word with a thrust and she let out a high pitched whimper.

“I want to cum.” She spoke a little louder, but I still wasn’t satisfied.

“Tell me how bad - how badly do you wanna cum?”

“S-so badly, please.”

I reached my hand around under her bunched up dress and cupped her mound, putting slight pressure on her clit.

“Tell me who this pussy belongs to and you can cum.”

“You.”

“Who?” I asked with a smile.

“This pussy belongs to you!”

I drew circles on her clit, bringing her to release before she could say anything else. She came all over my strap and bit down on her fist to stop from crying out. If anyone passed by now, surely they’d know exactly what we were doing. I continued to pump myself into her, letting her ride out her high on my cock.

I continued to play with her clit, her hips rolling into my own, her legs shaking with pleasure.

“Give me one more, baby. I wanna feel you cum.”

I slipped the strap out and replaced it with my fingers, curling them upward so I hit her g-spot as I fucked her again. She didn’t bother silencing herself as she came again, tiny whimpers and cries spilling from her lips.

“That’s my good girl.” I whispered against her hair, pumping my fingers out of her slowly. “You did so good for me.”

[eccentricwritingbaby]

baby finn series, the last hooray 

lando norris x mom!wife!reader

series masterlist

summary - in order to give finn some extra attention before the baby comes, the young family heads to the english countryside, visiting lando’s parents, and granting finn the last little bit of time all about him. 

masterlist

-

“okay finn, what else do you want to bring?” you crouch down and ask your son, attempting to aid his independence while he tries to pack himself. 

“hmm,” he mumbles, glancing around his room and then back towards his suitcase, “my toy!”

you chuckle at his enthusiasm, grabbing the toy he was pointing at and throwing it into the bag, “alright, baby, i think you’ve got everything,”

“otay!” he squeals with a clap to his hands, “i show dada?”

“you can show daddy what a big boy you are once he gets home, baby,” you direct to the boy, zipping up his suitcase and pulling him into your arms, “are you excited about this week?”

“yes!” he claps again, “i miss nan and gwampa,”

“i know, but now we’ll be with them for a whole week!” you cheer to him, tickling finn in your lap as he squirms around in a fit of giggles. 

“woah, woah,” lando makes his entrance known in the room, leaning against the doorframe, “who’s having all this fun without me?”

“DADA!” your son jumps from your arms, sprinting towards his father to engulf him into a hug. lando scoops up your son, receiving the hug and placing a few kisses to the top of his head. 

“hi bubs, what are you and momma doing?” he asks, looking around the room, sending you a wink before taking a seat next to you on the floor.

“packing,” you reply to your husband’s question, “finn didn’t you wanna show daddy?” you nudge your son.

“dada i big like you! i pack myself!”

“really, buddy? good job, ‘m so proud of you,” lando squeezes his giggly son a little tighter, finn absolutely beaming at the praise. he then looks towards his suitcase and starts to show you and lando everything in it. you both giggle in front of him, sounding out a chorus of 'oo's' and 'ahh's' to the little boy. once he was finished, he starts to repack, you internally sighing knowing you'd have to do it properly later.

“alright, baby, daddy and i now have to go pack,” you sigh, “why don’t you read your book for a bit?”

“otay, momma!” finn runs over to his bookcase, grabbing his few dr seuss books and getting situated on his little reading chair. lando glances over at you, six months pregnant and struggling to stand up, holding out his hands to lift you into his arms. once you’re both standing, you leave the room, hearing the quiet mumblings of your four year old trying his best to read the books in front of him. 

“i already have most of your clothes set aside that are clean from the wash,” you start, moving around your room to grab both of the suitcases, laying them out on the floor. 

“okay, i’m chartering a private flight,” lando breathes out, “so we’ve got to be at the airport by four in the morning tomorrow, the car will be here at three,”

“oh god,” you sigh, “i hope finn sleeps the whole time,”

“it’s like a two hour flight, so we’ll get there around six, but the time difference so it’ll be five-”

“love,” you cut him off, reaching out to take his hands in yours, “everything will be fine, we’ve done this a million times,” 

“i know,” he shakes his head, squeezing your intertwined hands a bit, “just never when you were this pregnant and with a toddler,”

“i’m not in my third trimester yet, it is more than safe for me to fly,” you reassure him, a hand coming up to stroke his cheek as he leans into your touch, “and finn will be fine, he’s flown before he knows how it is and he’s always well behaved,”

“okay,” lando’s stress releases a bit, the tension in his shoulders visibly weakening, “you’re right we’ll be fine,”

“yes we will,” pecking his lips quickly, you begin to gather more of your clothes, readying your suitcase for the trip. 

-

“baby,” you shake finn lightly, “we’re here,” he was currently sprawled across your husband's lap, head on yours as he slept throughout the whole flight. he doesn’t budge an inch, ever the heavy sleeper, and lando just laughs at his son’s persistence. 

“i’ll carry him, y/n,” he whispers over to you, now grabbing finn in his arms along with swinging your bag over his shoulder. you gather your things, along with some of lando’s, and head down the steps off the jet. 

“there they are!” adam hushes out, noticing the tired boy in his own son’s arms. 

“hi, hi” you nod towards cisca and adam, lando’s dad rushing to grab the things from your arms as he begins to carry them to the car. you hush out a quiet ‘thank you’ and keep moving, climbing into their backseat. lando begins tucking finn into his carseat in between the both of you, sending you a wink as he finally buckles him in. the drive goes on, lando’s parents asking about the doctor’s appointments, upcoming races, and all around catching up with their son and daughter-in-law. 

before you knew it, you had arrived at the parent’s country estate, beyond excited to breathe some fresh air along with having some peace away from the city. exiting the vehicle, adam makes his way to grab your things, lando carrying the sleeping boy yet again, and you all head into the home. 

“it feels so good to be here,” your husband whispers out, his mother giving him a side hug to emphasize her own love of her son being near them once again. 

“the guest room is all set up for the both of you, and lando, your old room is set up for finn,” cisca directs him, “why don’t you all get settled in, let the boy wake up, and then we can talk about breakfast?”

“that sounds perfect,” you sigh, “thank you, cisca,” she nods in your direction as your young family brings yourselves up the stairs and down to your rooms. once lando had laid finn down onto the guest bed, he moved over to where you were beginning to unpack your things.

“hi baby,” he whispers, still trying to not wake the four year old just a few steps away.

“hi, lan,” you smile, tossing your arms around his neck, his own hands holding your waist steady, “see? i knew we’d be fine,”

“you are always right, my lovely wife,” he shakes his head with a smile, kissing your lips as you sink into him.

“mm, you keep talking like that and we won’t leave the bedroom this week,” lando groans at this imagine, pulling you even closer for another kiss. 

“momma? dada?” your son begins to stir, bringing his hands up to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

“yes baby?” you ask, lando groaning quietly at the halting of your momentum, dropping his head down onto your shoulder.

“are we here?” finn mumbles, now sitting up on the bed and beginning to look around.

“yeah, love, we just got here,” you whisper to him, watching him slightly nod and take in his surroundings. 

“where nan and gwampa?” he asks, now scooting towards the edge of the bed, struggling to hop off. your husband now noticing his struggling son, heads over and lifts him onto his hip. 

“they’re downstairs, bubs,” lando replies to him, dropping a kiss down to the top of his head, “wanna head down there? say hi?”

“yes! dada carry me?” he looks up at his father, his bright eyes staring up at him in awe, the way he always looks at lando, his hero. 

“of course, bubs, let’s go,” another kiss dropped to his son’s forehead and a slight nod to you, the family heads downstairs to be greeted by adam and cisca again. even though finn was still a little tired, the minute he saw his grandparents there was plenty of squirming in his dad’s arms before he was finally set down, sprinting towards them at full speed. after so many hugs and excitement, you catch you and your husband yawning at the same time, both laughing at each other once spotted. 

“you both must be exhausted,” adam states, eyeing your appearance, “were you up the entire flight?”

“since three,” lando nods as adam’s eyes widen.

“why don’t you lie down for a while after breakfast,” cisca says, still holding onto her grandson, “we’ll catch up with finn, here,” she smiles in your direction and you give her a smile of thanks, proceeding to sit down at the table. you all share breakfast, stories, and laughs, watching your son ramble on and on to adam about how he is so excited to kart soon. lando emphasizes that it won’t be for a while, but finn doesn’t care, too excited to understand the correction. after the conversation dies down, you and your husband decide to excuse yourselves, ready for a much needed nap. 

“oh my god,” lando groans as he collapses on the bed in front of him, “i am so fucking tired,”

“me too,” you mumble with him, joining him on the bed.

“why don’t we have a quick shower and then nap?” he suggests in your direction.

“i don’t think i can get up,” you laugh quietly in his direction. 

“i don’t think i can either,” he chuckles with you, “how about a shower after we nap?”

“beautiful,” you sigh, rolling over slightly to be face to face with your husband, “and then we’ll have more energy for, other things,” you smile at him. he leans forward, catching your lips in a kiss, as you hum, loving the feeling after such a long day. 

“later, baby,” you giggle into his mouth, “i’m falling asleep right now,”

“you’re right,” he laughs, “i am too,”

-

two hours later, a steamy shower and a nice nap, you and lando are getting ready to spend some more time with your son and his parents. 

“what time are we meeting your mom tomorrow?” lando asks you as you both make your way outside, already hearing the sweet baby giggles approaching. 

“five in the evening, she grabbed us some reservation in the city near my dad’s office,” you shrug, “so we’ll meet her and then make our way into town,”

“that sounds perfect,” lando nods, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

“MOMMA! DADA!” finn comes running at you both like a bullet, his knees and hands filled to the brim with mud, just as you’d hoped. living in monaco, in an apartment building, he didn’t have as much time playing outside as you’d hoped. both you and lando grew up in the country, and you’d wished for him to still have those experiences when he can. 

“hi baby!” you laugh out, “are you having fun?”

“yes!” he giggles, holding onto your husband’s leg, “i play with dada’s old car!” you look off in the direction of adam, standing near lando’s old kart he had when he was finn’s age. 

“how’d you get so dirty, bubs?” lando asks, looking down at his little twin caked with mud. 

“i play in dirt,” finn shrugs, beginning to head back over to his grandfather. 

“oh,” lando laughs, still holding onto you, “well that’s specific,” he jokes.

“that’s your son,” you shake your head with a laugh, moving towards cisca where she was sitting on a bench near the family. 

you and her both watch as the boys run around with finn, hearing his giggles along with your own husband’s and father-in-laws. you can’t help but smile at the scene in front of you - lando attempting to instruct finn the right way to drive, showing him everything he knows. in return, your son is eyeing his father with focus, holding onto every word that drops from his mouth. you watch the duo, and relax, knowing that once baby girl norris was here, finn wouldn’t feel left out or forgotten, him and lando held such a special bond that couldn’t be broken. 

-

[homestylehughes]

sundress seduction

pairing(s): luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: where luke is seduced by y/n’s sundress and he cant keep his hands off of her.

warning(s): little plot mostly pure filth, smut 18+. use of pet names, no use of y/n. oral fem!receiving. dirty talk. unprotected sex p n v. luke and reader both being cute!

wc: 1.8k

an: HIIIIIII!!! here i am once again..with luke smut...AND I LOVE IT. it's sundress season and this little idea popped in my head and here we are now, thanks to the help of you guys MWAH and boyyy is it hot. i need luke like this BAD! anyways!! i hope you all enjoy, like and reblog if you do, as always much love!!!

happy reading <3

It was so hot at the lake house this year, the dry heat making it hard to be in anything besides a bikini or in the water. Luke and I have been at the lake for a few days, arriving before everyone else, hoping to spend some time together before the summer gets busy.

The first few days spent at the lake house were calm and the both of us decided to take it easy, going grocery shopping and stalking the house with necessary goods. Spending time swimming, tanning or on the boat. The calm atmosphere of the lake is something I'll never get used to. 

Today while I was making Luke and I's breakfast he proposed the idea of us going to lunch at a new restaurant that had just opened up by the lake. Nodding my head in excitement, already knowing what I wanted to wear, I had bought a few sundresses just for the lake. Knowing it would be hot at lunch, I decided it would be the perfect thing to wear. 

This was a few hours ago, Luke spending some time outside in the garage staking, practicing on his shots. while I lay on the deck reading my book as I tan. I hear lukes footsteps pad behind me on the deck. 

“Hi baby” he says leaning down, placing a kiss on my back. 

“Hi” I smile back up at him, the sun reflecting beautifly on his sweat covered chest. 

“Do you still want to get lunch?” he asks, 

“Yes i'm fine with that, if you still are”' I say, placing my bookmark in my book, moving to now sit up. 

“Of course pretty girl, gonna go shower” Luke says smiling down at me, leaning down connecting our lips before heading back into the house. 

Looking out the lake for a few moments, before pulling myself up from the deck gathering all of my things, slipping on my sandles before heading inside. Closing the door, heading up the stairs to Luke and I’s bedroom, entering the room, I hear the shower running in the connected bathroom. 

Heading to the closet, looking through my options of dresses I have, pulling out one I haven't worn before. the long yellow and pink sundress with flowers littered over the dress, the dress being exactly what I wanted to wear today, hoping luke likes it.

I can hear the bathroom door opening, turning my head slightly, seeing Luke with a towel wrapped around his waist, as he's digging into his drawers finding something to wear. “Shower good?” I ask.

“It was, it would have been better if you were there with me though,” Luke says from behind me. 

“Next time” I smile at him, as I turn around, now seeing a fully dressed luke.

The khaki shorts and dark blue polo, that complements his tanned skin so well. I walk over to help him fix his collar that's tucked in on one side. 

“Thanks baby” he says while he's running a towel through his damp curls, “you're welcome handsome” i say leaning in to give him a small peck on his cheek before turning around. 

“I'm going to go down stairs and wait for you, take your time baby” luke says standing in the doorway, i nod my head in understandment, luke shutting the door softly behind him as he leaves.

 My attention now is going to get ready. Changing out of my swimsuit, forgoing a bra because of the dress, replacing my bottoms with underwear, before slipping the sundress on over my head, pulling it down making sure it's placed correctly on my body.

I headed into the bathroom, and began going to do my makeup and hair, choosing to do something simple. adding a few curls to my hair, fluffing it and moving on to my makeup, adding a few light products, finishing off with lip gloss. Looking at myself in the mirror, seeing it there's something I want to fix or change. deciding everything looks fine, running my hands over my sundress making sure it looks right. 

Exiting the bathroom, I slip on my sandals grabbing my purse as I make my way to head down stairs.

 “Im ready” i say to luke as i reach the bottom of the stairs. Luke lifts his head up from the couch, his eyes catching mine before looking me up and down, his face expressionless. 

“Do you like it?” I ask him, giving him a quick little spin to show off the full dress

“Come here” he says, his voice breaking the silence around us. I slowly make my way to stand in front of where he sits on the couch, luke takes my purse from my arm, setting it on the floor before placing his hands on my hips pulling me closer to his body. 

“Fuck” he mutters out

 “What's wrong?” I asked nervously. 

“You in this dress thats what, fuck me” he groans tracing his hands over the fabric, from my feet to the straps of the dress. 

“Do you have any idea how good you look right now?” he says, as he's lightly pulling my things down, urging me to sit in his lap.

 “It's just a sundress?” I say, now sitting in his lap, his hands running over my bare legs. 

“Whatever the fuck it is, i want you wear them all the time” luke says, leaning into my neck placing wet kisses down my neck and exposed neck.

“Oh” I pant out, as Luke continues his assault on my neck, I feel his hands slip under the straps of the dress, pulling them off my shoulders, exposing my bare chest.

“Oh my gosh, you're going to kill me '' Luke says before his mouth latches around my left nipple, his warm wet mouth around my breast causes me to moan, pushing my hips against his. 

Broken moans and pants leave my mouth as Luke continues his work on my chest, before pulling back suddenly his eyes finding mine.

 “i need you baby, fuck” luke says breathlnessly, moaning in response as his hands find their way underneath my dress, his fingers tracing over my covered core.

his fingers tracing over the wet patch that now covers my underwear, “fuck baby who got you this wet?”

“you luke, please do something”

“I'm getting there baby.” he says pulling my underwear to the side, running his fingers through my wet folds, the action causes my whole body to shutter against him. I began to grind down on lukes fingers as he slowly fucks me with him.

 His thumb finding my clit, “luke right there” I plant out, dropping my head to his neck, my body still moving against his fingers. 

I can feel my orgasm on the rise as his fingers continue to fuck me, moaning as he curls them over so slightly hitting my g-spot, just as I feel myself about to come, Luke pulls his fingers out of my aching core. Whining in the loss of contact, pulling myself up from his neck, leaning back on my knees. I see Luke bring the two fingers that were once inside me into his mouth, sucking on them like they're a hot summer treat.

 My eyes locked on his, Luke pulled his fingers from his mouth with a pop, bringing his hand to the back of my neck pulling my face to his smashing out lips together. Moaning into his mouth tasting myself on his lips, my hips begin moving against his again, craving some type of friction. 

“I want you to ride me in that sundress baby”, im quick to get up from his lap, helping him take off his belt, tossing it across the living room as his hands move to unbutton his pants, pulling them down along his boxers. His cock springing free, precome leaking at the tip, the sight making my mouth water. 

Luke's hands finding my hips, pulling me back towards him, helping me line up on his cock, sinking down, our moans filling the room as I fully sit down on his cock. 

“Fuck baby, you feel so good around me” luke says as he goes to brush my hair thats fallen into my face. 

“Luke” I pant as he rolls his hips against mine, lifting up and sinking down on him, the burn between my thighs feels so good.

I began to speed up my movements, Luke's thrusts meeting mine.  My hands finding the back of the couch, my head leaning down as I watch myself sink back down on him again. “Fuck” luke says, his head agianst the back of the couch as our movements increase. 

“You look so pretty riding my cock baby” , his eyes finding mine, I can feel my hair sticking to the back of my neck from sweat. 

“Fuck luke” i pant out as one of his thrusts hits just the right spot, almost causing me to collapse right on top if him. 

I can feel myself getting close to my climax, my legs beginning to grow tired. “Is my baby tired? Need me to take over and fuck you baby” luke smirks 

“yes please” i paint before connecting our lips back together. 

Luke's hands are back on my hips again, he begins to thrust into me at full speed. My breasts are bouncing with each thrust. Letting out uh’s and broken moans as he contuines to fuck me to my peak. 

“Right there Luke, don't stop please” his thrusts hitting my clit, causing me to moan loudly at the feeling.

“Luke im about to come” i pant out against his mouth, 

“im almost there baby, wait for me fuck” he says as he contuines thrusting into me. 

“I cant hold it luke” it's becoming all too much, each snap of his hips against mine, each touch, kiss. everything is making it hard to hold on. The whole room feels like fire around me, panting like i've never had a drink of water before. 

Before I even know it, my legs are beginning to shake around him.

 “I'm coming,” I say before dropping my head into his neck. My vision becomes white, only feeling lukes body against mine. I can feel his grip tighten on my waist, hearing him moan out from below me. He's coming,

“That's it baby, come all over my cock” I hear Luke say, pulling me back up connecting our lips.

The kiss is hot and messy, our tongues fighting for dominance as we ride out our highs together. 

Pulling back to catch my breath, our movements now stilling, looking at Luke with widened eyes, his lips swollen, as he pants looking back at me. I began to giggle at our state, thinking about how we even managed to get in this position.

 “I can't believe I was seduced by your sundress. Luke laughs along with me,

“me either '' I say, lowering my face to his, giving him a sweet kiss on the lips before pulling back. 

“So lunch?” 

[merakiui]

the birds and the bees.

yandere!riddle rosehearts x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, slight dub-con, implied stalking, age gap (riddle is 19 and reader is 29) note - you're hired to teach riddle about the birds and the bees. you need the money. he needs to get laid.

The Rosehearts’s Residence looks about how you expected it to after driving past houses of similar size and grandeur. Unlike you, they’re definitely not strapped for cash. It’s an impressive structure with its elegant wrought iron gates and expertly trimmed hedges. You’re immediately overcome with bitter jealousy when you step through the entrance, passing rose bushes in full bloom. If only your apartment could look and feel as nice as this place. You almost wonder if you should keep Mrs. Rosehearts’s contact in case she ever needs a gardener or a window washer…

But then that risks your cover, and the last thing you want is to get tangled up in trouble with the upper middle class.

Gathering your courage, you smooth invisible wrinkles in your pencil skirt, steady your balance in your Mary Janes—both at socially acceptable lengths and heights—and bring your fist down against the door. Seconds after the third knock, it opens to reveal a woman who looks as prim and proper as the landscape of her home. She takes a long moment, drinking in your formal features, and then smiles approvingly.

“Ah, (Name), you’re early.”

You soften your face into something polite and demure. “Better early than late.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

She steps aside, gesturing for you to come in. You meander into the foyer and are instantly reminded of those exquisite house tours on MagiTube. There’s a fine layer of modest Victorian wealth to the decor. Flowery wallpaper, a lofty ceiling, an aureate chandelier, a vase filled with fresh tulips of all colors… Oh, how you wish you could live here!

“Your home is beautiful,” you comment as you straighten your bow headband.

“Why, thank you.” Her eyes light up once more. “I’ve always admired this neighborhood. Everything is so well-kept. Speaking of which, where did you say you’re from?”

“Oh, I’m actually getting ready to move back to school at the end of the summer,” you explain, narrowly dodging her question. No way I’m telling her I live in a not-so-affluent neighborhood… She’ll totally kick me out. “I’m staying with my parents in the meantime and working a few jobs to support myself.”

“And what was it you’re studying again?”

You paste a hollow smile on, sensing her distrust. I already told you this when we met at the clinic. Do I really seem so suspicious?

“I’m studying to be an ob-gyn.”

“A wonderful profession,” she praises, nodding to herself. “Very wonderful indeed. And how old are you? I merely ask to confirm. There are so many miscreants nowadays. You can never be too sure.”

“I understand completely, Mrs. Rosehearts. I’m—” you almost falter, your real age on the tip of your tongue— “twenty-two. What about your son? You told me he’s also looking to get into the medical field?”

“Not looking. He will pursue medicine,” she corrects sternly. “Just like his mother.”

You swallow your disgust and try not to let it show so openly. Yikes… Talk about controlling.

Mrs. Rosehearts waves you onwards down the hall. “My Riddle will be leaving for his first year of college at the end of August. Though I’m certain he’s more than prepared, it never hurts to review.”

“Absolutely. So you’d like me to give him the talk?”

“Not just that. I’d like you to teach him well enough so that copulation and any other libidinous ideas are the last things on his mind. Stamp them out if you must. He’s to focus on his studies and make good decisions just as I raised him.”

Shouldn’t he already be familiar with this? Besides, he’s not a kid. Of course he’s going to think about sex. Most of us do when we’re horny.

But you can’t say that outright, so you settle for something vastly different.

“It’s important to stay on the right path and be responsible.”

Mrs. Rosehearts nods her agreement. Your stomach twists in discomfort.

On second thought, I don’t want to be upper middle class if these are the people I have to deal with. Is this guy going to have any chance to be social? To live his life? To make and learn from stupid mistakes? I bet he can’t wait to get out of here and go off to school.

“I apologize if this is rude in any way, but I just want to ensure I’ll be paid accordingly.”

“Of course. Good work must always be recognized and rewarded.” She stops at a door. “I cannot thank you enough for lending my Riddle your time. Teach him well.”

“I’ll do just that. You can count on it.”

Pleased with the level of maturity you’ve displayed, she raps her knuckles against the door and calls out, “Riddle, the tutor’s here.”

“Very well, Mother. I’ve just finished today’s readings, so you can send them in,” comes a muffled reply.

Today’s readings? you think, perplexed. Your gaze slides from the door to Mrs. Rosehearts. Does she have this guy doing summer school? That must suck! What a shitty way to spend your summer, cooped up inside filling out workbooks and stuff.

“I’ll be out running errands in the meantime. I trust you’ll be all right by yourself?”

“Perfectly all right,” you assure her, to which she hums and strides past you. You catch her perfume as she departs, and it reminds you of the types of scents worn by saggy, old ladies who have nothing better to do than sit around and complain about the state of the world and the way their children turned out.

In other words, a scent you associate with misery.

You wait until she’s out of sight before opening the door and stepping inside the study. There’s a mahogany desk in the center, and thick textbooks are piled high on either side. Beyond that, beside a big bay window with cream-colored curtains drawn to let in the sun, two large bookcases are packed with an array of tomes. At the front of the room, a blackboard has been built into a wooden frame. Chalk lines the ledge, situated within reach of an eraser. And sitting at the desk, his eyes glued to an open book, is a young man. A pair of round frames sit on the bridge of his nose, slipping ever so slightly down the slope of it when he peers at the page. He pushes them up when he finally lifts his head to greet you.

“Hey.” You wave awkwardly, easing the door shut.

He seems taken aback by your appearance. “Oh, yes. Right. Hello…”

Silence soon fills the space. You wonder if you should just save yourself this nonsensical waste of time and retreat.

“Sooo.” You fold your arms behind your back, rocking on your heels. “Your mother’s probably told you why I’m here.”

“I’m aware.” He shuts his book and stands from his seat. “My name is Riddle Rosehearts. A pleasure to meet you.”

You blink at his outstretched arm. “(Name). Likewise.” You grab his hand and shake firmly. 

So stiff…

“So where’re we starting? The basics? You want the whole ‘when a man and a woman love each other very much’ version or—”

Riddle scoffs and yanks his arm back. “I’m not a fool. I’ll have you know I’m well aware of sexual reproduction and what it entails.”

“You can call it sex. No one’s forcing you to be all biological,” you tease. His body goes rigid, and his face reddens in what you assume is flustered annoyance. “Anyways, since you’re not as brainless as Mother Dearest wants me to assume, I’ll just get into it.”

Riddle stares at you, his arms folding over his chest. He looks like he wants to argue, but instead he huffs and lowers into his chair.

Wordlessly, you undo the buttons on your blazer and shrug out of it. Your blouse goes next, untucked from your skirt and shucked. Riddle’s eyes are so wide they nearly pop out of his skull when he spies the white, lacy false collar that just barely covers your breasts. You’re about to step out of your pencil skirt next when Riddle clears his throat.

“W-What’re you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“No?”

“I’m teaching you the birds and the bees.”

“N-Not in that outfit! S-Surely not…” He averts his eyes, crimson crawling up to his ears. “You’re practically nude!”

“That’s the point of lingerie, silly.” Your skirt pools around your ankles to reveal the rest of your frilly ensemble. A black-and-white cupless bra and crotchless panties set, both with plenty of ruffles, held together with a pair of garters. Still wearing matching stockings and your precious Mary Janes, you bend down to gather your discarded clothes. They’re set aside on a nearby chair. “You can look.”

“A-Absolutely not!” he hisses, squeezing his eyes shut. “Y-You… You’re not decent. It’s rude to stare.”

“Come on. You got past anatomy diagrams just fine.”

Riddle opens and closes his mouth, speechless like a beached fish. Eventually, he manages to gather his coherency. “You’re a tutor, aren’t you? Where’s your dignity?”

“Nonexistent. I lied.” His head snaps over to view you, and he seems so scandalized by your admission that it’s almost comedic. “No way I’m studying to be an ob-gyn. I’m not even in school.”

“What?! But you—”

“It’s fine. I looked the part, didn’t I?” you joke, waving your hand about dismissively. “C’mon, mama’s boy. You’re going off to college. It’s nothing like those stuffy anatomy courses.”

Riddle tries and fails to look at anywhere that isn’t you, his eyes lingering on your chest to the space between your legs to the thigh garter and then to the ceiling. He’s so red you think he might explode.

“You’ve been with a girl before, yeah?”

With lips pursed in a tight line, he shakes his head.

“Sounds about right.”

“And you’re so experienced?”

You flash him a cheeky grin. “Don’t worry about it, mama’s boy.”

“I’m not a mama’s boy!”

“No? So you just let your mother treat you like a little baby at your grown age? You let her pick out sex tutors for you?”

“I—” He stops himself from speaking to mull over your questions. “If it’s what she deems necessary…”

“Because our biggest fear is sexually awkward you knocking up some girl at school, right?”

“I… I would never! Safe sex is—”

“Very important when you’re not trying to conceive. Good boy. See? You know your stuff.”

Riddle’s eyes narrow into vicious slits. You brush his scorching vitriol off and turn towards the board. Procuring a piece of chalk, you scrawl words on it: Birds and Bees 101. Wholly unamused, Riddle folds his arms across his chest.

“Your mother told me you’re gonna study medicine, so you’re probably familiar with everything already. And I’m sure you know all about the baby-making process on a biological level.” You whirl to face him, your tits bouncing with the peppy motion. Riddle swallows thickly. “But just to make sure… Let’s review.”

“R-Review? You don’t mean—”

“What’s this?” Your hands close around your tits. Riddle’s enchanted with the way you squeeze them—the way they depress under your fingers.

“Um… Ahem. Well… T-The breasts. They’re a type of glandular organ located on a woman’s chest, and they’re made up of lots of tissue and fat. There’s the mammary gland—that’s what produces milk. Oh, and then there are the areolas right around the nipples. Those are—”

“You can call them what they are.”

Riddle blinks, shaken from his studious spiel. “W-What?”

“You know the word, mama’s boy.”

He flusters. “Yes, I’m aware. But…”

“No harm in saying it.” You run your fingers over your nipples and giggle sweetly like a schoolgirl. “Go on…”

He inhales a deep breath. “They’re tits,” he mumbles, desultory. “Y-Your tits.”

You clap, beaming brightly. “Well done! Moving swiftly on…” You run your hands down the expanse of your stomach, stopping just beneath your navel. “What’s here?”

“Your womb. O-Otherwise known as the uterus. It’s where a baby grows over the course of nine months.”

“Mhm. Good job.”

He pushes his glasses up his nose, clearing his throat. “There’s more to your reproductive system than the uterus. Lots of parts. Important parts.”

“Right. But I don’t need to quiz you on it. You obviously know your stuff.”

Again, your fingers inch lower until they’re prodding at your folds. Riddle’s breath audibly hitches.

“And this?”

“Your vagina. It’s where—”

“What’s the other word?”

Riddle avoids your stare. “It sounds so vulgar…”

“So what?”

“S-So there ought to be a term that’s more…flattering.”

“Like what?” You approach him and, with the grace of a swan, lift your leg onto the desk to give him a better view of yourself. Shamelessly, you dip your fingers inside to spread yourself. “A guy called it the honeypot once. That pretty enough for you?”

Riddle squeaks and flinches back in his chair, his face now even redder than it was before. “T-That’s fine…”

“Really? I’d have thought the implication in that one is much dirtier than calling it a pussy.”

It takes him a moment to connect the dots, but once he does he gasps. “Ah. Then…”

You press inwards with your fingers, exaggerating a pornographic sigh. “Yeah?”

“Can I… M-May I call it your flower?”

“Sure.” His shoulders slacken with a flicker of relief. Your next words shatter that and his pride in one fell swoop. “That one’s not as special as you think, mama’s boy. I’ve heard it all—every type of flower you can think of.”

“Even a rose?”

“Especially a rose.” His lips twist into a disappointed moue. You chuckle and add, “You can call it a rose if you want. I don’t mind.”

Riddle meets your eyes then, searching them for the joke. When one doesn’t present itself, he relaxes. “All right. It’s a very pretty rose. Soft…”

“Aww. Thanks for saying so. It’s softer inside, y’know. See?” Spreading yourself wider, you angle your hips to bless him with the full view. “My fingers slide right in. Wanna guess why?”

“B-Because the vagina naturally—” He stops himself, his brows knitting together in contemplation. When he speaks next, it’s with a determined sort of conviction. “When you’re aroused, your rose produces a natural lubricant during sexual excitement.”

“Mhm. We call that ‘feeling good and getting wet,’ Dr. Rosehearts.”

“Yes. Y-Yes, I know that.” He eyes your pussy, a ravenous glimmer in his intelligent blue-greys. “And the wetness—it’s supposed to make it feel better. To make insertion easier, I mean.”

“Right again.” You ease your fingers out but not before thrusting them deeper just so he can hear the sinful sounds. They shimmer with your essence, enticing in a forbidden way. “What about the other parts? How about this spot here?” You brush against the hood of your clit, circling it slowly.

Riddle watches, hopelessly spellbound. “The clitoris.”

“I’m impressed. Most guys don’t know about it.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“But it’s your most sensitive erogenous zone! Just how uninformed does one have to be to neglect such a crucial part to your sexual anatomy?”

“Woefully uninformed, I’m afraid,” you mutter with a pout. Your fingertips drag your hood up to reveal that pretty, perky nub. “I think it’s dumb your mother wants me to talk you out of sex. You’re going to college. You’re an adult. You’re free to do whatever you want.”

“I…” Riddle frowns at that last line. “I have no interest in it. Besides, it’ll only hinder my studies. If I really need it, I’ll just masturbate. That’s healthy every now and then, and it doesn’t break any rules.”

“Really? No interest at all?” You shoot him a knowing look and run your tongue along your bottom lip. “Because your dick’s telling a different story.”

Riddle sputters, embarrassed, and squeezes his thighs together. His hands fly to cover his lap. “That’s because you’re—” He gazes at the floor. “Because you’re so pretty…”

Temporarily thrown off course, you gape at him. “What?”

“You’re beautiful.”

Gathering the remnants of your mask, you piece it together and laugh. “Not the first time I’ve heard someone describe it like that.”

“Not just your pussy.” Your gaze snaps to his. He smiles, impish. “I’m sure you know what I mean, Teacher.”

You exhale a short laugh. “Someone’s suddenly confident.”

Riddle rises from his seat. His fingers close around your wrist, gently pulling it away from your clit. He moves around the desk to stand in front of you and then, before you can comprehend his intentions, he’s pushing you down onto the desk. You yelp at the sudden change in position, your eyes blown wide when he presses his clothed hard-on against your bare pussy.

“You’re doing a poor job at dissuading me from wanting sex.”

“I wasn’t trying to.”

“Not in that outfit.” He grabs at the meat of your thighs and parts them. “If Mother knew you lied to her…”

You shake your head at him. “Please don’t tell her. I… I’m being serious. I need this money.”

“Desperately?”

Your lip curls into the beginning of a sneer. You hate feeling powerless more than anything, but the fiery glaze in his eyes is just as troubling. “I’m not going to beg.”

“I haven’t asked for that yet.”

You roll your eyes. “Not funny. I agreed to teach you about sex. We’re not actually doing it.”

“A shame.”

“You’ll find a nice girl at school. Don’t lose hope, mama’s boy. Lots of girls like the smart types who’ll give ’em a lecture on biology and stuff.”

“I think you misunderstand. I don’t want other girls.”

“Okay?”

“My mother’s paying for a tutor and I desire you, so unless you want to leave here as a lying cheat…” He hums, seeming awfully haughty to hold the only thing that tethers you to him above your head. “You need the money, right?”

“Yes. Sure, of course I do. But—” You shift on the desk, silently horrified when he rocks against you. “We can’t. Your mother—”

“Weren’t you the one saying I should live my life? That I have the freedom to do as I please?”

“That doesn’t mean—come on; listen to yourself. You can’t honestly think I’d fuck you.”

“No? And yet you came wearing this outfit, parading around the study with your pussy and tits out.” He glances past you at the window. “And you didn’t even bother to close the curtains… How brazen.”

Your attempt to jerk away from him is made in vain. He pins you down onto the desk, one hand squeezing your breast, while the other works to fish himself from his trousers. Now hard and leaking, his cock rests against your stomach. It’s not a terrible size. If anything, it’s perfect. Just right for your tastes.

“W-Wait! It’s not safe. You can’t—” You inhale sharply, bucking up towards his hand when he presses his thumb against your clit. Biting your lip, you fix him with a glower. “If you pay me… If you promise not to tell your mother—”

Riddle leans in close. “No one needs to know. No one but us.”

Your eyes flit about the room. With a withering sigh, you submit to his touch. “You’d better pull out in time.”

Riddle rolls his hips once and his cock drags along your folds. You hiss through your teeth at this new friction, a sinful delight more dizzying than any type of alcohol consumed in excess. “Do you want to be a mother?”

“What I want has nothing to do with you. I’m just—ooh—t-trying to survive. You wouldn’t know what that’s like, so don’t poke fun.”

Riddle hums, kneading your breast and rubbing you to the edge all at once. It’s so very obviously his first time, his zealous nature trumping any sort of experienced technique. It still does the trick, though, sending little bolts of pleasure up your spine.

“My mother wouldn’t just choose anyone. Her standards are very high.” His eyes flick to your face, drinking in your expression as it shifts with restrained bliss. “Somehow you’ve earned her approval.”

“Lying’ll do that.”

“Maybe.” His fingers replicate the motions you did earlier, though with a singular objective in mind. He’s so focused on succeeding in this endeavor that it makes him look so stiff. Under any other circumstances, you’d find it cute. “Mother always knows what’s best for me. Obviously you’ve met her criteria if she’s hired you.”

“Spoken like a true mama’s boy.” Seeing as this is now your unavoidable fate, you reach up to touch his shoulders. He jolts, his initial glare softening. You tamp down another giggle and massage up and along his arms. “Relax a little. Don’t rush so much.”

Or do. Let’s get this over with before your mother catches us.

Riddle traces two fingers along your labia. He’s quiet as he takes all of you in, and when he sinks three fingers into your gooey heat his breath catches in his throat. “Are you… D-Do you feel good?”

You reach for his unoccupied hand and guide it to your clit. Riddle understands the suggestion well enough, for he massages you slowly. Sucking in another breath, you nod at him.

“Not bad. You’re getting there.”

His neglected cock throbs at the praise, and so you wrap your fingers around it to give it the same amount of attention he’s currently giving you. Riddle grits his teeth at the contact.

“You can move your fingers. Don’t just focus on my clit.”

“Ah. Right. Of course,” he babbles dumbly, so swept up in everything that you are, so very eager to please.

You’re like a work of art pinned to his desk, a delicacy more forbidden than anything from the bakery. Sugary-sweet, adorned in skimpy ruche, you’re a temptation laid bare. Delicately, as if you might shatter, he curls his fingers to press up against your insides. Riddle watches you arch up towards him, your hand working his cock maddeningly slow and steady. It feels good—better than anything he could have ever imagined.

His eyes trail from your lips to your tits to your pussy stretched around his fingers. “Do you have any plans for this summer?”

The sudden question catches you off guard. You were expecting something related to sex, not whatever this new shred of curiosity is. Still, that doesn’t stop you from dragging him closer to the edge of ecstasy with every tug of your fist.

“Why?”

“I… I’d like to get to know you.”

“Me?”

“Of course. You’re more than a body to me.”

“How charming. I just—” You frown, unable to follow where he’s going with this. “Why?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” Even though he says it like it’s a fact, he looks shy. “I want to know you.”

“Uh… Yeah… Okay.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Not that… It’s just hard to imagine you having any girl friends.”

Riddle rolls his eyes and grinds his thumb into your clit. You bite back a whine as his fingers pump in and out of you. “Is that space open or closed?”

“You know which one.”

“You could be the one to close it.”

You meet his eyes then. For a short minute, the two of you hold each other’s stare. And then, breaking free from his hypnotic hold, you squeeze his length gently. He shudders, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks.

“And what about you? You excited for your first year?”

“Mm, yeah,” he murmurs, rutting into your hand. His fingers spread you open, scissoring gently.

“Just make sure to take time for yourself. Have fun. Live.”

“What did you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“When you were at school—how’d you manage?”

“I never went.” He opens his mouth to interject, but you beat him to it. “Couldn’t afford it.”

“Oh…”

“It’s fine! I’ve got plenty of experience in other things. I don’t need school for that.”

Riddle doesn’t believe your feigned optimism for a second. “If you could’ve gone, what would you have studied?”

You release his cock from your hold and reach up to pull his glasses from his face. Gingerly, minding the fragile frames, you set them aside. You lift your index to your lips, effortlessly coy. “It’s a secret.”

Before he can protest, you tap the hand at your cunt next. Riddle’s fingers, wet and shiny, slide out with a slick squelch. “I think you can do it.”

“What?”

“Go to school and study what you want. I believe in you.”

A wooden laugh tumbles from your lips. “Thanks for the encouragement, mama’s boy.”

“I have a name, you know.”

You smile easily. “You want me to call you something else? How does ‘good boy’ sound?”

Even though he tries not to let it show, his cock betrays his reticence with a small twitch. He’s an open book. Not wanting to give you the satisfaction, he lines himself up instead. Your fingers slip down to spread yourself for him.

“S-Slowly…” you whisper, stumbling over your breath as the head of his cock presses inside. Shallow at first before more inches fill you.

Riddle heaves a shaky gasp, his eyes wide with amazement. “I… I’m inside you…”

“How’s it feel?” “Warm. Soft. Snug. R-Really good.” He bows his head and digs his fingers into your hips. You think he has a dozen more adjectives on the tip of his tongue, each one just as fluffy as the last. “D-Do you feel good? It doesn’t hurt?”

“I’m fine.” You wind your legs around his waist to pull him closer. Your hands come to rest upon his shoulders once more. “Move your hips.”

Riddle does just that. His pace is awkward and inexperienced, every motion unsteady and jerky, as he searches for the right rhythm. He falls into it surprisingly fast, and it isn’t long until he’s smoothly rutting into you. You grab at his shirt, your breath coming in reedy huffs.

“Good. You—haa—good. You’re doing good.” Praise pours from your lips like a waterfall, plentiful and refreshing. It invigorates him, fills him with a confidence that wasn’t there before.

The soft slap of skin on skin fills the room. You keep your voice in check, lest you lose yourself and alert Mrs. Rosehearts. Riddle seems to be doing the same, even though it’s obvious he’s struggling much more than you are. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth to suppress his groans.

“You can touch me,” you whisper, petting his cheek. He blinks at you, his face aflame with a bright blush.

Nervously, he reaches for you and then pauses. Contemplation passes over his features. “What feels better? I want you to—no. I will make sure you cum. I’ve studied it, actually. I know how long it takes.”

“Look at you, doing your research like a diligent student. You want extra credit?”

Riddle chuckles and pinches your clit between two fingers. The rest of your teasing tapers off into a lewd squeal. “What was that about extra credit?”

“You’re awfully bold for your first time.”

“I’m not clueless.” His hips press inwards, plastering you to the desk, and his cock brushes that special spot within—the spot that has you seeing stars, your every nerve tingling with pleasure. You choke around a delighted gasp. Riddle, feeling victorious,  places his hand against your stomach, as if searching to feel his cock thrust up inside you. “Will I see you again after this?”

“If your mother wants me to come back and give you another pointless lecture on celibacy and safe sex, sure.”

“No, not that. Outside of this.”

“Don’t you have friends you’d rather hang out with?”

“I…do.”

“So spend time with them.”

Riddle doesn’t dignify that with a retort. With the way his eyes gloss over, you wonder just how many of these friends are within physical distance. The conversation stalls out into silence.

“You’ll make lots of friends at school. So many you’ll probably forget all about me.”

Riddle yanks your hips to meet his, driving himself deeper into your pussy.

“A-And you’ll find a nice girl to love if you’re looking for that kinda thing.”

“I am,” he confesses, breathless. “I want to get married and—mmh—start a family one day… I want to study law—become a lawyer… Mother thinks medicine suits me, but I can’t agree. Law is fascinating. It’s a perfect fit for me. Far better than medicine.”

You drag your thumb over your mouth, wetting it with your lipgloss, and then press it to his lips. The indirect kiss sends a tidal wave of arousal over him, darkening the tips of his ears in striking vermillion. You offer him a gentle smile while he recovers from that devastating flirt.

“I’ll make sure to hire you as my lawyer if I ever get into legal trouble.”

“You’d better not!” He laughs and shakes his head in amused disbelief. “But if you do, I’ll be there for you. Always.”

“Thanks, Riddle.”

Maybe I judged him too harshly. He’s not so bad.

In that stuffy study, just as the late afternoon gives way to red-orange streaked across a purple-pink sky, Riddle fucks you against that desk in all manner of rhythms. It’s when he finally picks up speed that you realize he’s nearing his end. You mirror his enjoyment, strung along by titillating touches and whispered words drenched in sweetness. You’ve lost track of how many times you’ve reached rapture alongside him, your pussy now brimming with cum. There’s so much it leaks out of your slick hole when he draws away, only to burrow his cock deeper to stuff it back inside.

The room reeks of sweat and sex. You think, if not your disheveled appearance, the smell will definitely tell Mrs. Rosehearts all she needs to know.

“I love you,” Riddle murmurs, and you’re about to ask him what he means—maybe he’s caught up in the moment and doesn’t realize what he’s saying—but then he lifts your legs up to fold you into a mating press. Coherent thoughts are knocked out of your head when he spills over, filling you up for the nth time that day. You shiver beneath him, eyes rolled back into your skull and tongue lolling out. You feel so stupid, fucked submissive by some inexperienced, upper middle class mama’s boy. Which isn’t even an insult with real heat to it, but in your hazy mind it’s all you can think of to describe him.

He grinds against you in the aftermath, panting from the exhilaration and adrenaline. 

“We need to…open the window,” you mutter, your heart thumping wildly in your chest.

Riddle admires your fucked-out expression in his sex-drunk daze. He slides out just as he feels himself going flaccid. Cum drips onto the desk below. Briefly, you struggle to recall whether or not you took your birth control today.

Something to consider later. Definitely not right now when you’re still clinging to the vestiges of your orgasm.

— — —

Mrs. Rosehearts knocks on the door, opening it to find Riddle sitting at his desk, jotting notes and occasionally pushing his glasses up. You’re standing at the blackboard, writing a list of the consequences of unplanned pregnancies. The room smells pleasantly of roses.

“Pardon my intrusion.”

You gaze at her and smile, wearing the clothes you arrived in. Nothing’s amiss. It’s perfect—thankfully. “Welcome back, Mrs. Rosehearts. We’re just about finished here.”

“Is that right? I assume all went well?”

“Very well. Your son’s a fast learner. Extremely talented.”

“I would expect nothing less.” She withdraws an envelope and hands it to you. “Thank you again for explaining it in realistic terms. Of course I doubt that my Riddle will act senselessly while he’s away, but as his mother I’m prone to worrying. Boys his age are so easily influenced.”

“O-Of course! That’s a very valid concern.” You force a chuckle.

If only she knew.

“Your pay is in that envelope. Should I ever require your assistance again, I’ll be sure to call.”

“Right… Thank you.” You hold it close to your chest. “I’m happy to help.”

You follow her out the door. She pauses to address Riddle. “Do continue reviewing your notes. We’ll convene for dinner in thirty minutes.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Mrs. Rosehearts walks you to the gate. “I wish you luck in your studies. If I don’t see you again at the clinic, have a pleasant summer.”

“Thank you. You as well.” You smile, fidgeting slightly. A bead of sweat tracks a path down your leg from between cum-spattered thighs.

Finally! With this I can pay my rent and still have enough for a treat from the bakery.

It’s worth it, or so you continue to tell yourself.

— — —

From the window, Riddle watches you make the walk to your car. He lifts his phone to fit you in the camera and snaps a secret photo. He continues to watch you until you’ve driven off and turned the corner, disappearing from his sight.

A tiny smile tugs at his lips.

Within his phone, put under a password lock, a special photo album exists. It’s filled with pictures taken from your social media—all of them. Every. Single. One. He’s resourceful when he wants to be. He can play the parody of a tech genius when he sets his sights on something.

And you’re just perfect.

[igotanidea]

Coke and disappointment: Jason Todd x reader

Warnings: SMUT MDNI!, friends to lovers, bad date on reader's part

Summary: when a date goes wrong, who's better to talk to if not a best friend. Even if that best friend happens to secretly have feelings for you and the complaining may actually push him over the edge...

A/N: sorry for the typos and mistakes, no time to proofread :D I'll fix it later :D

***

He was a fool.

A stupid, idiotic fucker who was too stubborn to speak up.

Too scared to tell the girl he liked that he liked her.

And now he was about to lose her.

Jason let out a shaky exhale, feeling his heart shutter at the thought she was about to move on with her life and leave him alone. Again. And then he punched the wall in a poor attempt at transforming that sadness into rage.

Rage was easier and he knew how to navigate it.

He took in the surroundings of his apartment, a little cluttered and shabby, but still it was the place he called his. Just last night she was casually lunging on his couch, texting on her phone with that stupid smile that always made his heart melt.

She was texting him. That other guy who obviously did not deserve her.  HE could have been the prince charming himself, be a gentleman with the look, but in Jason’s opinion he did not deserve her.

She was so close on that stupid couch.

So close.

All he had to do was take one step forward, take the phone from her hands and fucking tell her how he felt.

And then she jumped in the air, laughing and spinning around, proudly announcing she had a date.

And suddenly she was not so close anymore. Almost like those three words made a mountain grow between them.

A mountain, a sea, a valley and a desert.

His words died in his throat and he just smirked, throwing his usual meaningly funny comment and shut his heart once more.

And now he was spread on the same couch she was yesterday, with a bottle of beer in his hand, thinking stupid thoughts.

***

“Are you drinking without me?” the door swung open and Y/n walked inside like she owned the place, almost immediately heading towards the fridge and grabbing herself a bottle of cola zero.

“The hell Y/N? The hell you’re doing here?!”

“Can’t I just pop in at my friend’s place?” she raised an eyebrow and took a sip of her drink.

“Oh, no, you know what, by all means come in at any time. What if I was with someone?” Jason hissed in response, moving on the couch to make space for her.

“Well then, if so, you should remember to close the door.  As much as I wouldn’t mind the show, I’m pretty sure the girl you’ll be taking advantage of would not be delighted with an onlooker.”

“You’re disgusting Y/N.” Jason sighed with a hint of a smirk.

“But I’m not wrong, am I?” she grinned and poked his ribs playfully.

“No. No you are not.”

“Yeah…”

That yeah coming from her was supposed to be said in a funny tone, but came out a little desperate, the silence that fell after only added to that sensation.

“Hey Y/n/n?”

“Hm?”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“About what?”

“You know what.” Jason frowned and cupped her chin making her look at him

“That little failure of something that I already romanticized in my head before?”

“Yeah. About that.”

“Actually, yes, let’s talk about it. Maybe you can tell me what is wrong with today’s men.”

“Oh, shit talking the fucker that clearly made you upset. I’m game.” Jason stood up gathering another beer and coke from the fridge, getting ready for the long conversation. “Do tell.” With the force he jumped back on the couch, Y/N flew a few inches in the air.

“He came late.” She started and Jason booed “he was dressed as if it was a beach or something. And then he took me to the park—”

“Hopefully those punches and moves I taught you helped?”

“Right, cause we were fighting squirrels.” Y/N rolled her eyes “come on, be serious, it was the middle of the day in a public place. Using those punches will only make me get attention to myself. I settled on the good old kick in the groin.

Jason laughed. It was obvious the meeting did not go well.

“He was only talking about himself. Like all the time. Never once asking a thing about me.”

“You could have started talking yourself. I’m pretty sure the fucker had to make breaks for breathing?”

“Actually, I’m starting to believe he’s that one parasite that scientists discovered and that does not.”

“A parasite huh?”

“Pretty much so.”

“So, he took you to the café?”

“Nope.”

“Nope?”

“Nope.”

“Wait, you’re serious!?” Jason turned abruptly to meet her eyes. “So the hell were you two doing?”

“Walking in the park?” Y/N raised an eyebrow “just told you?”

“For two hours?! How big was this fucking park?”

“Well….” Her gaze traveled lower and she started fidgeting with her fingers.

“What else?”

“Nothing.”

“What else, Y/N?” Jason almost groaned in frustration.

“At some point we took a turn and had to literally bush-bash.”

“No!” much to her surprise Jason started guffawing

“Hey, stop laughing! It was not funny! I had a dress!”

“Oh, poor little you.” He cackled even harder. “You don’t really want my opinion on that so-called “date” do you?”

“Of course not. I’m not exactly blind to red flags. I just wanted to vent.”

“You can be blind to red flags sometimes.” Jason muttered, quickly drowning the words with the sip of a drink.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“You’re spending time with me, instead with one of your girlfriends.”

“I don’t have girlfriends and your red flags are the reason why you are my friend and why there would never be anything else.”

Ouch. That was like a punch to the guts.

“What if there was?” he blurted without thinking, only because the bottle turned out empty and he couldn’t swallow the bile.

“What--?” with a broken word and the way her eyes focused on his face, Jason knew there was no going back. It was now or never.

“What if there was Y/N? What if there was something more…?” with a gentle touch he grabbed her coke and put it on the nearby table, instead intertwining their fingers. “What if—”

“Jason, don’t—”

“Don’t tell me to stay in the shadows while you keep dating men that can’t even take you for coffee!” he yelled and it made her stumble backwards, letting go of his hands. “Fuck! Why can’t you see it?!

“See what…?”

“You deserve –” he started, but she cut him off.

“No. No, don’t you dare tell me that I deserve someone better. I don’t really see men lining up for me” Y/N chuckled dryly “I’m not a teen anymore, soon my expiration date will come and –“

“Shut up!” he hissed, in a blink of an eye finding himself on the other side of the couch, his eyes boring a hole into her face, his hands aching to do so many things… “You deserve more than a mindless stroll in the park, not that the walk itself is a bad thing. You deserve to be spoiled and –“

“Please don’t…”

“If anything more, you at least deserve a good orgasm.” He groaned, unable to control himself anymore, eyes filled with lust and unspoken promises of pleasure.

She was so close. Once again. Only now, he wasn’t going to cross the line. It was her choice. If she wanted to walk out and close the door on him – fine. This would hurt like hell, but eventually Jason would get over it.

But it was her choice and there was no way he would take advantage of her.

As if making her hot and bothered with the look in his eyes, the closeness and the heat from his presence and words was not taking advantage.

***

Y/N was lost only for a second.

It’s been so long since she’s been touched. So long since she felt anyone in that way. And her body needed it.

God knows she needed it.

And she had no power to swim against the tide, grabbing the front of his shirt and kissing him.

***

Jason reacted instinctively.

His strong hands moved to her waist, pulling her on top of him, starting to grind against her, even through their clothes.

He was going to make her feel so good.

So fucking good, taking her to the places she’s never been before.

Only for her. Just for her.

Her.

Now not only in his thoughts and crazy fantasies, but in flesh and bone in his arms, on his couch, pliant and needy for attention.

“Jason….” His lips moved from her lips to her neck, brushing over her pulse point.

“Jason…” his hands rolled her dress up until it was on her waist.

“Jason…” the word became hoarse and breathy when he lifted her up so she was now straddling him.

And he was only just beginning.

Teasing her with one finger, pulling her panties away, feeling the wetness already seeping on his jeans. She was so ready for him just from a few touches. How touch starved and neglected she must have been if just a little foreplay was enough?

“You’re mine tonight…” he groaned into her ear. “Mine. Say it Y/N…”

“Yours…” she whimpered, shuddering at the way his index finger inched closer to her heat.

“Yeah. Mine.” For Jason it felt just right to call her his.

“Please….”

“Not yet baby.”

“Don’t be mean… You promised me—”

“A good time. And that’s exactly what you’ll get. But not like that.”

“Then what—Ah!”

Her cry of surprise tore the air as he grabbed her by the waist, lifted her in the air and carried towards the bedroom, miraculously avoiding all the stuff on the floor. Once in the room, with one hand around her, he threw the cover alongside every little thing on it onto the floor, making quite a noise. But what was a little background mess in comparison to the passion they were both experiencing right now.

They were clearly not friends now, but it was not important.

All the labels, unanswered questions and doubts left their heads as fast as their clothes started flying in all the directions. Bra on the lamp, boxers on the bedpost, shirt on the floor, a mess of clothes in the foot of the bed.

They didn’t care.

All that mattered at that moment was his lips on hers, her hands in his hair, the way his fingers kept pumping in and out of her prepping her for what was coming and the smell of her arousal in the air.

And those moans of pleasure that hit his ear made him hard enough to drill through the concrete.

“So wet…” he muttered

“So good!” she cried out arching her back, turning into a wanton, a bitch, not caring in the slightest about losing control. It felt good to just let go.

“Yeah?” he breathed out pulling fingers out of her, now coated with her juices. “Good?” Jason made sure to trace them up her body, spreading wetness on her stomach, her breasts with those deliciously pert nipples just begging to be abused and finally on her mouth. As if knowing she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from licking those plump red lips in a motion that was both innocent and obscene. “I'll show you good…”

With a groan, almost losing control, he spread her legs, hovering over her, leaning so close that his breath was hitting her face and his chest pressed against her breasts creating unbearable friction.

“Jason… Jason, please…” she squirmed, arched, begged and pleaded.

“I’ll give you everything you need…” he promised, leaning on forearms, slowly pushing inside her, mindful of every expression on her face. Only upon making sure she was feeling the pleasure and not the pain, his eyes moved lower, watching his cock disappear in her.

The dirty look that once again shuttered the fundamentals of his self-control.  

“More!” she cried out, closing eyes, grabbing his shoulders, earning a groan from him.

“Fuckin more!”

There was no interim between bottoming out and adjusting to his size and frenzied pace of lovemaking. They just went from 0 to 100 in a blink of an eye.

He was gripping the headrest, too scared to touch her body In fear he’ll break her from the force. His forearms were straining from the power in those strong arms and Y/N knew he could snap her like a branch. Instead, somewhere deep inside that lust filled brain, he was still focused on her well being and safety.

Not that she could say the same about the way his cock was thrusting. Pulling in and out of her like she was made out of a rubber, shaping her to his girth, making sure to leave the memories of that night not only in her brain but also gouging the flutes on her pussy. For she was his.

Crying out his name

Touching him.

Letting him feel that tight wetness groping him like a vice.

So fucking tight only proving the point that she didn’t get nearly enough sex as she deserved.

“Tell me-“ he gasped, leaning his forehead on hers with sweaty hair clinging to it “How many times before you’ve came-“

“I – I don’t – I can’t-„ she cried out when he lifted her hips, changing the angle hitting deeper, harder, more intensely, effectively silencing all the thoughts. All she could focus on then was matching his pace, keeping that delicious stretch going, igniting the friction, running hands all over his back, holding him tight enough to not fly out into space right away.

“Tell me baby. I need you to say it.” He muttered between ragged breath, feeling his own release knocking at the door more and more stridently.

“Ne- never!” she cried out “Please!”

“Cum for me sweetheart.” He whispered in her ear with the silent promise of catching her and keeping her safe.

And he knew she believed him when her sobs, cries and gasps of climax filled the room, completing the scent of sex with the sound of pleasure.

Perfection incarnated in the form of a sin.

***

“Go on a date with me…”

Once they both came out from their high, laying side by side in the bed-

Once he dared to let out that soft side of his feelings, tracing circles on her sensitive body –

Once the arousal and horniness was gone-

There was no regret. No oh-my-god-what-have-we-done moment.

In fact, in some crazy way, it all seemed natural. Like both Jason and Y/N knew that it was bound to happen and their sex was not an accident or a mistake.

But a date?

“I’m serious, Y/N. Go on a date with me.”

“You don’t owe me—”

“It’s not about owing, baby. I want it. To be able to hold your hand in public, to beat to pulp every single guy that comes too close to you. To kiss you under the moonlight. To walk you home after and come upstairs just to cuddle on the couch together.”

“You sure?” she teased, laying her upper body on top of his, looking into his eyes with a happy smile “that would ruin your reputation as a cold and heartless motherfucker.”

"Some people are worth sacrificing like that…”

“Must be someone special.” Y/N whispered, her heart fluttering at the sensitivity Jason was expressing now.

“She is. A one in the million.” He tangled fingers in her hair, unable to tear his eyes from her naked form next to him.

The happiest fucker in the universe.

And to think she came to his place only to have a coke and complain about a bad date.

Coke and disappointment turning into a chance at a relationship.  

[heerinnie]

Imagine having threesome with heehoon, like they both would tease you, and make you beg for their dicks. Tie you on the bed and fill your ass and cunt at the same time. Or cover your eyes with a blindfold and than fuck you one by one and ask you who is it? And when you tell them the wrong answer, they would go extra rough on you and make your body go numb and I can imagine them cursing alot while fucking you senselessly. Like "yeah, you like that slut. You like being railed by two dicks at the same time" "wrong answer whore, now get your ass up and be ready for the punishment"

RAH 🦅DONT EVEN because I love your brain rn.

Ngl i see Hoon and Hee as two different people in bed. Hoon seems like the kind of individual who would push you to your limits and make you feel inferior, 100% hard mean dom that punishes you even when you happen to laugh at a joke told by a guy other than him or Hee and then asking you if his joke really was funny or if you wanted to add a groupie to your roster. His behaviour could be seen as toxic in some situations but after fucking you dumb know he didn't mean a single word he said. Outside of the bedroom he really is an amazing and compassionate boyfie completely contrasting his wild and animalistic side in bed.

On the other hand, Hee comes across as someone who’s gentle with you, a soft dom if I do say so myself. He’d whisper gentle words of praise in your ear, cooing at you for taking him so well and for all the ways you'd let him have your body and mind. Now this might come out of nowhere but I must spread my heesub agenda. This man is such a switch, he’d be a soft dom in bed but the biggest brat known to man if you take control. And absolute menace because nothing beats the way your irritated brow twitched when he spoke back and he just lived when you took it out on him.

Now all of that mixed in with being in a poly relationship with these two? I don't know about you but I’m sold.

They would take turns using you one by one and revel in it. The hard thrusts of Hoon using you like a fleshlight, bruising your hips with his grip along with Hee whispering sweet nothings and telling you about how much of a good girl you are for taking him while sucking and playing with your tit would send you into overdrive, turning your mind into nothing but mush.

On most occasions things would happen the usual way as expected, the opposite parallels of your two boyfriends domming would never bore you so you couldn't complain much. However, there were some days when Heeseung's behaviour and demeanour would take a complete U-turn, surprising both you and Hoon, wondering where your sweet man went. He would align himself with Hoon's attitude, which was quite different from his usual self and he would adopt an entirely different attitude to how he treats you during sex. Same goes with hoon, there ware days where he sees your struggling and would take hours taking care of you whether it’d be eating you out until you couldn’t remember the issue or making love to you telling you how beautiful you’d look carrying his and seungie’s babies.

Back to sub hee, god when you three fuck but hee subs it’s like something straight out of porn. Moaning and whining as you play with his cock and balls teasing and edging him all whilst sunghoon fucks you in doggy like an animal in heat. Slurring degradation and praise towards you both. I’m convulsing.

I hope what you gathered from this is that their duality would be insane, I'm insane, i need them NOW.

[kkvqwrites]

Bedside Manner

Reader goes into labor while Simon's away and calls the first person she can think of. The task force (and some other friends in high places) rally around the couple on the most important day of their lives.

Word Count: 2,587

Characters (in order of appearance): fem!Reader (no use of y/n), Capt. John Price, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kate Laswell

CW: childbirth, hospital setting, medical procedures

A/N: Am I a Ghost girlie? Absolutely. Am I also a sucker for the found family trope? Til I die. This idea wouldn't leave me alone and I'm so glad I stuck with it. I love the way this came out and hope you like it!

"Dear? Everything okay?"

The captain's voice on the other end of the line sounded worried. Both he and Simon had drilled it into you to never hesitate to call Price if you needed anything while your husband was away, but you couldn't help feeling a bit guilty.

"Um, I think so," you began, willing your voice to stay level and upbeat. "I think I just - oof.." Another contraction hit, stealing the air from your lungs. They were coming more consistently now, and hard enough to stop you in your tracks.

This could not be happening.

"What's wrong? Are you alright? Are you hurt?" You could hear movement in the background, him gathering his things to be out the door and on his way to you.

"I'm fine, John. I just didn't know who else to call. I think the baby might be coming?" The words came out pinched as you worked through the tail end of the contraction. The captain swore loudly.

"Stay put, love. I'm on the way - everything will be alright. Want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"No, no, that's fine. Stay safe and I'll see you when you get here." You hung up before he could argue and fuss like a mother hen.

______________________________________________________________

The knock at the door startled you. You looked at the clock - surely that couldn't be John already. The man lived across town. Not trusting yourself to make it to the door, you called out.

"It's open!"

Turns out it wasn't Price, but Gaz, who stepped into your living room and began taking in the scene. It was a sight to be sure: you, doubled over sitting on your yoga ball, rocking back and forth to try to alleviate some of the pressure in your hips, towel around your neck because you were sweating like a pig, ambient white noise filtering through the bluetooth speaker to keep you calm. For all his usual swagger and poise, Gaz looked a bit frightened.

"Kyle, did John call you? I'm so sorry - I'm sure you were busy-"

"Not at all, I rushed over as soon as I got word." The sergeant came to your side and knelt until he was eye level. "The captain's on his way but I was closer. We didn't want you to be alone any longer than necessary."

"You and your task force are worse than a quilting circle." The jab came with a joking smile, but the smile was cut short by the stab of another contraction. At the sight of your face screwing up in pain, Kyle's eyes got big.

"Can I do something? Do you need anything?" He wrung his hands as he fussed, seemingly unsure whether to touch you or whether you'd bite him if he tried. Admittedly, you weren't too sure yourself.

"Need you to reset - the timer." The words came out through clenched teeth as your muscles tensed and screamed. "Contractions - need to time them."

"The timer - right." He sprung into action, undoubtedly happy to have a defined task to accomplish. As he was fiddling with the device, Price stormed through the door, his demeanor all-business.

"Gaz? What's the situation?" The sergeant hopped to attention as if he was at roll call.

"Got here not long ago myself, Cap. Just reset the timer for contractions."

"Where are we at?"

"Thirteen minutes, sir."

The captain turned to you, assessing you from top to bottom. His expression and his voice softened considerably as he spoke.

"Ready to get to the hospital, love?"

"Can't - they told me to wait until they're five minutes apart." The man looked bewildered.

"And just let you sit here and suffer? Not on my watch. Gaz, grab my keys - "

"John," you interrupted. "I already called. They won't admit me yet. We just need to wait it out."

"Nonsense, love. You wait til I get someone's ear over there. Five minutes my arse." He moved to help you stand, but stopped in his tracks as he took in your face, your lip trembling. "Is there something else?" As if on cue, a fat tear rolled down your cheek, the first of its kind since the pains began.

"This isn't supposed to be happening," you squeaked out. "Not for a few more weeks. Simon's supposed to be here."

The men shared a glance, looking stricken. Price leaned down next to you, a broad hand gently squeezing your shoulder. His voice was soft when he spoke, a renewed slowness replacing his prior rushed pace.

"I know, love. I know it's not ideal, and I know you're scared. I know Simon would give anything to be here, that he'd split heaven and earth to be with you right now. But I also know he'd want you and your little one taken care of, yeah? He wouldn't want you to wait."

You nodded, despite more tears threatening. "Doesn't change the fact they won't admit me yet."

The captain's mouth quirked defiantly. "You let me worry about that. Gaz, help her up. I'll drive."

______________________________________________________________

Simon was tired down to his bones, feeling like a wrung out rag after the most recent mission. Despite that, the man was a ball of energy as he hopped off the plane, desperate to get back to you.

"Someone's antsy," Soap drawled, taking a more leisurely pace. He slid his sunglasses on as Simon switched on his cell phone anxiously. "Got somewhere to be, LT?"

"'Matter of fact I do - home." Simon impatiently hiked his duffel bag higher on his shoulder. "See my wife, eat a real meal. Finally build that godforsaken changing table. Who knew a baby needs so much furniture?"

Soap barked a laugh, but Simon tuned him out as he put his phone to his ear. He'd gotten a voicemail from you, and everything else ceased to matter.

"Hey babe, it's me. I'm not sure when you'll get this, and I hate to worry you. I'm sure it's fine. It's just... I've been feeling some contractions-"

Simon didn't hear the rest, nearly dropping his phone as he broke into a run.

______________________________________________________________

True to his word, Price argued with the hospital staff until you were taken up to a room. You were sure he must have pulled rank, threatened to call people, but he refused to let you worry about it.

The ride had been smooth, despite John driving like a bat out of hell. Gaz stayed in the back seat with you, clinging to your hand and fussing. Later, you'd think it was funny how he seemed to need more encouragement and support than he offered, but at that moment very little was funny.

You had been able to stay in denial for an admirably long time. The past few days, you were able to tell yourself it was just Braxton-Hicks contractions, not the real thing. That even when it became evident the real thing was starting, that it wouldn't progress quickly. That even though it was progressing, that Simon would walk in the door just at the right moment and sweep you into the car and off to the hospital and all would be well. Even when your gut told you to pick up the phone and call the captain, you had managed to make yourself believe that you were wrong, that it was a false alarm, that you still had more time.

Now, here you were, connected to monitors and being poked and prodded by nurses. Medical history, allergies, birth plan, you felt like you were in interrogation rather than a patient receiving care. And if it wasn't the nurses it was the two men standing off to the side, one wringing his hands in worry and one watching the nurses like a hawk and barking questions. The contractions were closer to eight minutes apart now, progressing quickly. Now the situation was very real, and as thankful as you were from the support from Price and Gaz, your heart threatened to shatter at the absence of the one person who mattered most.

______________________________________________________________

"Bloody fuckin' hell, no one will answer their phone!" Ghost barked, ready to throw his out the window. He'd had radio silence other than a second voicemail, this one from the Captain:

"Simon, Price here. Just got word from the missus that the baby's on the way. I'm headed there now. I don't want you to worry about a thing, I won't leave her side. I'll update you as I'm able."

"She knew to call the captain; he's probably with her now," Soap offered from the driver's seat. He'd practically had to arm wrestle Simon for the keys, but ended up convincing him that he'd be able to call for updates if he wasn't worried about driving. Silently, he thanked the saints Simon had agreed; who knows what carnage he'd unleash on the roads as worked up as he was.

"He better be, or I'll - not now, Laswell!" Simon rejected the third call from the station chief since landing and tried Price again. He was sure he'd hear about it for skipping debrief and jumping in the car, but right now he couldn't bring himself to give a shit. When Price's phone again went to voicemail, he was about to go nuclear when the car's Bluetooth lit up with Laswell's number.

"Shite; let me answer it LT." Soap pushed the button. "Laswell, it's Soap. Here with Ghost."

"I know," she said impatiently, her voice filling the space. "I've been trying to call all afternoon. I know what's happening and I'm here to help."

"What? How do you know?"

"Price called me as soon as he got word, asked me to find you. Anyway, you're wasting time heading in that direction; there's a lane closure ahead and you're about to be neck deep in traffic. I've mapped an alternate route for you. Take the next left."

The two men looked at each other in confusion before both starting to speak at the same time.

"Left? That takes us the wrong way-" "How do you know where we're at?"

"Boys! Boys, listen," she continued, exasperated. "Don't worry about how I know, just do as I say. We're gonna get you there as fast as possible. Now turn left!"

Soap cut the car to the left, ignoring the indignant honks of other drivers as he began to cut through the city under Laswell's watchful eye.

______________________________________________________________

"The doctor says you'll be ready to start pushing soon. How are you feeling?" The nurse was genuinely trying to be nice, so you bit back on your retort of how the fuck does it look like I'm feeling? My insides are exploding! and instead chose a weak smile and a head nod.

Once the nurse whisked away, Price was back at your side. You could tell by his expression he wanted to give you a pep talk like you were one of his soldiers about to head into battle, but he was searching for the right thing to say. You broke the silence first.

"I'm scared." Your voice sounded small, the words escaping almost of their own volition. The captain took your hand, blessedly avoiding sugarcoating the situation.

"I know. But you're doing great - a real trooper. Even with the needle in the back! Simon's gonna be so proud of you, love. And Gaz and I are gonna be right here. Right Gaz?"

"Right, Cap." The sergeant slid back into the room, cup of ice in hand. While the captain had taken point and begun advocating for you with the hospital staff and asking a million questions, Gaz had been dutifully making sure you were comfortable. Anything from getting you an extra pillow for your back, to helping you tie your hair back, to getting you ice chips since you couldn't have food or drink during labor, he was on it. If either man was uneasy about what was about to happen, they dutifully kept it under wraps and maintained their game faces.

One by one, the care team took up positions around you to get started. Price and Gaz got next to you, each taking one of your hands, ready to offer what support they could. You shamed yourself, one last time, for being ungrateful for their presence. A lot of people give birth with less, you tried to tell yourself. He’d be here if he could. 

 The doctor walked in, donning gloves and getting a quick status update from one of the nurses before meeting your eyes. “Evening, ma’am. We’re going to-” 

Her words were cut off by a commotion in the hall, a door slamming and what sounded like some raised voices. Everyone in the room exchanged confused glances, and Price motioned for Gaz to go investigate. He poked his head out into the hall for only a moment before returning with a big grin.

“You’re not gonna believe who’s here."

Then your husband was in the doorway, and then he was at your side, and suddenly those honey brown eyes drowned out every ounce of pain and fear you’d been holding onto, and that warm, calloused hand took yours, and you were ready.

______________________________________________________________

You would have thought it would be difficult to fall asleep under fluorescent lights, with monitors beeping and staff bustling around. But you had never known tiredness like this, and wanted to take the nurse’s advice and rest while the pain meds were still working their magic. The delivery had been uneventful once the show was on the road, and Simon never left your side, his steady presence grounding and his voice in your ear keeping you calm. Then there she was, a baby girl, the most precious tiny thing you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d stared at her and cried for hours, stroking her tiny hand and welcoming her to the world until you could barely keep your eyes open. And so, with a squeeze of your hand and a kiss on your forehead from Simon, you found yourself drifting off. You were aware, as you floated off, of his slow pacing back and forth with your newborn daughter in his arms, of his whispers to her that were too low for you to hear. Of the guys popping in, as unobtrusively as possible lest the lieutenant tear them limb from limb for disturbing you and the baby, bringing him food and coffee and admiring the bundle of joy.

“Doesn’t look a thing like you, Simon,” said Soap.

“Thank God for that,” he replied.

“You should have seen it, Simon really - needle this long, right in the spine!” Price remarked, not for the first time. “She didn’t even flinch.”

“I’m just glad you made it for the gross stuff,” mumbled Gaz.

“Kyle, you’re in the military. You’ve seen arms and legs blown off.”

“Completely different, Johnny. Not the same at all.”

On and on they bantered, brothers in arms stepping into their role as uncles for your baby girl with delight. One of the last things you heard was Simon, his voice thick with emotion.

“Thank you, all of you, for being here. For today.”

“Oh come off it Simon,” replied the Captain. “These girls mean something to you, so they mean something to us. That’s what a family is. Now quit hogging her and let Uncle John have a turn.”

You wouldn’t remember this conversation when you woke up, wouldn’t be able to articulate where it came from, but you’d carry with you the bone-deep feeling of connection with this little makeshift family forever.