#thank you that was such a nice thing to say!

[promptedwordsmith]

Please mayhaps could you write something cute of Mc/Reader falling asleep while laying on their chest listening to their heartbeat 😭

inspired by this dialogue from Zayne I just got 🙈

Love your writing btw, I binge read all your stuff earlier…😭

Aww thank you!

Caleb

The night was quiet, save for the faint hum of the city in the distance. The stars stretched endlessly above you, faint against the glow of streetlights filtering through the window. The air was cool, a soft breeze shifting the curtains, but the warmth of Caleb beside you made the world feel impossibly small, like the only thing that mattered was the space between you.

You hadn’t meant to stay this late.

It had started with a casual visit—an excuse, really. Just an evening spent together after days of missing each other between missions and responsibilities. You had barely managed to steal moments alone lately, both of you too caught up in the demands of your work, your Evols, your duties. And now, here you were, hours later, lying on his couch, wrapped up in his presence as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Caleb sat against the cushions, his black and orange jacket tossed somewhere over the armrest, leaving him in just a simple t-shirt. He had one arm resting lazily behind his head, the other draped across your back. Your body was half on top of him, your cheek pressed against his chest, rising and falling with each steady breath he took.

The sound of his heartbeat filled your ears.

Strong. Constant. Safe.

You hadn’t planned on falling asleep like this. But after everything—after the exhaustion, the weeks of pushing forward without rest—this felt… inevitable. Like gravity pulling you down.

Caleb hadn’t moved much since you’d settled there, just enough to shift comfortably, to make sure you had the space to breathe. His fingers ghosted over your back, absentminded, soothing. He wasn’t speaking, but he didn’t need to. The warmth of his body, the solid presence of him beneath you—it was enough.

You felt his chest rumble slightly as he let out a breath, a soft chuckle you almost missed.

"Didn’t think you’d get this comfortable with me so soon."

You made a small noise in protest but didn’t lift your head. It was too much effort, and you were too content.

His fingers brushed against the curve of your shoulder, warm and slow. "Not that I mind," he murmured.

You sighed, shifting just slightly, letting your body mold more against his. “M’not comfortable,” you mumbled sleepily, words muffled against his shirt.

"Oh?" Amusement colored his voice.

"M’just… too tired to move."

He huffed a quiet laugh. "Right. That’s it."

You didn’t argue. You barely had the energy to think, much less banter with him. The steady thump-thump of his heart was lulling you under, making it hard to focus on anything but the warmth beneath your fingertips.

A few minutes passed in silence, peaceful and undisturbed. Caleb wasn’t one to stay still for long, not with the kind of life he led, but right now, he hadn’t moved an inch. Maybe he didn’t want to wake you. Maybe he just liked this as much as you did.

And then, in a voice quieter than before, he spoke again.

"Feels nice."

You made a questioning sound, but you didn’t open your eyes.

His fingers traced a slow, lazy path down your back. "Having you here like this."

Your heart skipped.

It wasn’t like Caleb to say things outright. Not when it came to feelings, anyway. He showed his affection in actions—through protection, through thoughtfulness, through every quiet way he looked after you. But every now and then, he let things slip.

And for some reason, this moment felt more intimate than any of the ones before.

You swallowed, suddenly more aware of how close you were. His heartbeat, still steady beneath your ear, was the only thing grounding you.

You exhaled. "I like it too."

His hand stilled for half a second, then continued its slow, absentminded movements.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, saying nothing at all.

Time didn’t matter.

The world outside didn’t matter.

All that mattered was the quiet rise and fall of his chest, the way his heart beat for you, with you.

And eventually, before you even realized it, you drifted into sleep, safe in his arms.

Caleb had lost count of how long he’d been lying there, unmoving, just watching you.

You had fallen asleep so easily against him, so naturally, as if you had always belonged there. Your breaths were soft, steady, barely more than a whisper against his skin. And your weight—light but present—felt right.

He exhaled, staring at the ceiling.

He should’ve moved. He should’ve carried you to bed, tucked you in properly, maybe even left the room to give you space.

But he didn’t.

Because some part of him—some deep, selfish part—couldn’t bring himself to let go.

His arms tightened around you, just slightly. He felt the way you shifted in response, curling closer in your sleep, like even unconscious, you knew you were safe with him.

That did something to him.

He had spent so long protecting you, making sure you were okay, keeping his distance where he thought you needed it. But now, here you were—sleeping soundly on his chest, trusting him without hesitation.

And it undid him.

His fingers traced absent patterns against your back, slow, thoughtful. He didn’t know if you’d even remember this in the morning, if you’d be embarrassed, if you’d pull away and act like it hadn’t happened. But he’d remember.

He’d remember the way your breathing synced with his, the way your body had fit against him like it was meant to be there. He’d remember the warmth of you, the way you had melted into him without fear.

And, more than anything, he’d remember the moment he realized—he never wanted this to end.

He exhaled, tilting his head just enough to press the lightest of kisses against your hair. A whisper of a touch, something you wouldn’t feel, something just for him.

"Sleep well," he murmured against your temple. "I’ll be here when you wake up."

And for once, he truly meant it.

Rafayel

Rafayel always ran a little warmer than most, his body heat like an ember refusing to die out. It was comforting in a way that made it difficult to resist curling up beside him, though you rarely admitted that out loud. He’d be insufferable if you did, teasing you with that lazy grin, calling you clingy despite the fact that he was the one who draped himself over you like a heavy blanket more often than not.

Tonight was no different.

It had been a long day—one of those days where exhaustion settled into your bones like a permanent weight. The kind of day where even lifting a hand to wave away Rafayel’s usual antics felt like too much effort. You had barely managed to shuffle into his home, kicking off your shoes in a haphazard heap by the door before collapsing onto his couch without so much as a greeting.

Rafayel, ever the dramatic one, had let out an exaggerated sigh as he flopped down beside you, slouching against the cushions as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “You look like you’ve fought an entire army and lost.”

You hummed in response, not even bothering to open your eyes.

That wasn’t enough for him, of course. He prodded your arm with a single finger, then two, then your cheek, then your forehead—until you swatted weakly at his hand, cracking one eye open to glare at him.

“If you don’t let me rest, I’ll—”

“What?” He smirked, all sharp teeth and amusement. “Throw me out? I live here.”

You groaned, rolling onto your side to put your back to him, but it was no use. Rafayel was persistent when he wanted to be. His arm slung itself over your waist, not quite pulling you in, but making sure you couldn’t wriggle away either.

“Stay up with me,” he murmured.

“No.”

“Rude.”

You huffed a small laugh, but the exhaustion was winning. You felt the weight of his arm shift slightly, and before you knew it, he was adjusting, coaxing you effortlessly into his embrace as if it was second nature.

You barely resisted.

His chest was warm beneath your cheek, rising and falling in an easy rhythm, his heartbeat a steady thump-thump against your ear. You listened without thinking, without meaning to, letting the sound ground you in a way that nothing else could.

“Comfortable?” Rafayel’s voice was softer now, lacking his usual teasing lilt.

You made a vague sound of agreement, nuzzling just a little closer.

His fingers skimmed lightly over your back, absentmindedly tracing little shapes into your shirt. “You’re hopeless, you know that?”

“Mhm.”

“You weren’t supposed to agree.”

You smiled sleepily.

Silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t empty. It was full of the warmth of his body, the scent of sea breeze and something faintly sweet, the quiet lull of his breathing.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

You wondered if he even realized how soothing it was. If he knew how easily he could lull you to sleep just by being there.

His hand stilled against your back, and for a moment, you thought maybe he had fallen asleep too. But then, his voice—softer now, barely above a whisper—broke the silence.

“You do this a lot.”

You hummed, half-asleep already. “Do what?”

“Listen to my heartbeat.”

Your eyes cracked open just enough to peek up at him, but his expression was unreadable in the dim light. His gaze was focused on the ceiling, his lips pressed together in quiet contemplation.

You shrugged, your fingers absentmindedly curling into the fabric of his shirt. “It’s… nice.”

Rafayel let out a small breath of amusement, though there was something thoughtful in the way he tightened his grip around you, as if trying to pull you just a little closer. “I don’t think anyone’s ever told me that before.”

You blinked sleepily. “Really?”

He tilted his head slightly, as if considering it. “Most people don’t get close enough to notice.”

That made sense, you supposed. Rafayel was not an easy person to get close to. He could charm his way into any room, could captivate entire crowds with his talent and confidence—but when it came to true closeness, true intimacy, he chose his moments carefully. He built walls around himself, kept his distance from the world even as he stood in its spotlight.

But with you…

You weren’t entirely sure when it had changed. When the teasing had shifted into something softer, something real. When he had stopped keeping you at arm’s length.

Maybe it had been gradual, like the way the tide reshapes the shore over time.

Or maybe it had always been there, waiting to be acknowledged.

His fingers resumed their absentminded tracing against your back. “Does it make you feel safe?”

You hesitated for only a second before nodding. “Yeah.”

Rafayel exhaled, a breath that sounded far too heavy for such a simple conversation. But he didn’t say anything else.

His heartbeat continued its steady rhythm beneath your ear.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

You sighed, letting your eyes drift shut again. Sleep pulled at you like a tide, warm and steady.

You didn’t know how long you lay there, tangled up in each other, before Rafayel finally spoke again, voice so quiet you almost thought you imagined it.

“…Good.”

And then, as if nothing had happened, his fingers continued their slow, lazy patterns against your back, lulling you further into sleep.

The last thing you felt before drifting off completely was the faintest press of lips against the top of your head.

Rafayel didn’t say anything else.

He didn’t need to.

Sylus

The night was warm, the kind of heat that settled under your skin and refused to let go. The air carried the faint scent of rain from earlier, mixing with the smoky tang of the fire burning low in Sylus’ study. You had been sprawled across the couch for what felt like hours, tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable, but no matter what you did, rest wouldn’t come.

You huffed, rolling onto your stomach, cheek pressing into the cushion. Across the room, Sylus sat at his desk, flipping through a dossier with the kind of effortless focus that made you want to be a distraction. He had been watching you from the corner of his eye for a while now, though he hadn’t said anything—probably waiting for you to admit defeat first.

"You’re brooding," he finally murmured, flipping another page.

You groaned. "I don’t brood."

His lips curled slightly, but he didn’t look up. "You do when you don’t get your way."

Your head snapped up, eyes narrowing. "Excuse me?"

He turned a page with an infuriating level of ease. Smug bastard.

"You heard me," he mused. "Something’s bothering you. You don’t want to admit it, but you also want me to figure it out for you. You’re restless, and I don’t like it."

You scoffed, pushing yourself up. "You don’t like it? Oh no, whatever shall I do?"

Sylus sighed, finally looking up at you, his crimson gaze dark and knowing. "Come here."

You sat up fully, arms crossing over your chest. "No."

His expression didn’t change, but you saw the flicker of amusement in his eyes. "No?"

You smirked, lifting your chin. "You want me? You come get me."

For a moment, he just stared at you, as if weighing his options. Then, without warning, he moved.

You barely had time to react before a shadow loomed over you, arms slipping around you with the kind of effortless strength that made resistance seem laughable.

"Sylus!" you yelped, squirming as he lifted you off the couch like you weighed nothing.

"Problem, kitten?" he murmured, the warmth of his breath brushing against your temple as he adjusted you against his chest.

You kicked your feet, half-heartedly shoving at his shoulder, but he didn’t so much as flinch. Instead, he sank back into his chair, pulling you down with him, settling you against him.

Your back rested against his chest, his arms lazily draped around your waist, as if holding you there was the most natural thing in the world.

"You’re ridiculous," you grumbled.

"And yet," he mused, resting his chin lightly against the top of your head, "you always end up right where I want you."

You huffed, about to argue, but then—you heard it.

The steady, unshaken rhythm of his heartbeat.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Slow. Certain. Unyielding.

For a moment, you forgot why you had been restless in the first place. The world outside faded, the tension in your limbs melting into the warmth of his body. His heartbeat filled the silence, a constant, grounding sound that made everything else feel so small.

You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of everything—his warmth, the slow rise and fall of his chest against your back, the way his fingers had started tracing small, absentminded circles against your ribs.

"You’re listening," he murmured, voice quieter now.

You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to.

His heartbeat was so steady, so sure. A deep, resounding thing that made you realize just how erratic your own had been all night. But now… now you were matching him, falling into the rhythm of him.

A breath.

A beat.

A moment.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his sleeve, gripping just a little tighter.

"...You’re annoying," you mumbled.

Sylus huffed a quiet laugh, his fingers slipping up to cup your jaw, tilting your face just enough for your eyes to meet his. "And you’re a brat," he murmured.

Your lips parted, but no words came.

Because his gaze wasn’t teasing anymore. It was soft. Intense in a way that made your stomach twist and your pulse stutter, despite the slow, grounding rhythm of his own beneath you.

"...Don’t do that again," he said after a moment.

Your brow furrowed slightly. "Do what?"

"Try to deal with things on your own when you don’t have to." His voice was low, serious. Final.

You swallowed hard.

Sylus was not a man who needed anyone. He was self-sufficient, independent, a lone wolf who had built an empire from the shadows. But with you, he let himself be different.

And this? This was him asking you to do the same.

You let out a slow breath, turning your face back into his chest. His heartbeat was still there, still steady, still constant.

Your fingers loosened against his sleeve, your grip no longer desperate, but something else. Something trusting.

"...Okay," you whispered.

Sylus let out a quiet hum, satisfied with your answer. His arm tightened just slightly around you, and for the first time that night, you weren’t restless anymore.

You listened.

To the crackling fire. To the distant city.

To him.

To his heartbeat.

And slowly, carefully—you matched it.

Xavier

The steady rhythm of Xavier’s heartbeat was the only sound you could focus on. A soft, constant thump-thump, thump-thump beneath your ear, grounding and unwavering. It was late—too late—but exhaustion had long since settled into your bones, making your eyelids heavy.

You hadn’t meant to end up like this, curled against him with your cheek resting over his chest, legs tangled loosely. It had started as a simple evening together, the two of you stretched out on the couch, basking in the rare quiet. The mission earlier had been grueling—physically and mentally draining—and you had been too sore to move much, content just to exist in Xavier’s presence.

He had been the one to pull you close, an arm draped lazily around your waist as if it was second nature. And now, as you lay against him, your body melting into the warmth of his own, you realized how easy this felt.

His fingers traced light, absent-minded patterns against your back, the touch featherlight, almost reverent. You could feel his breath ruffle your hair every now and then, slow and even. The city lights outside cast a faint glow across the room, flickering against the walls, but neither of you made a move to turn on the lamp.

"You're quiet," Xavier murmured. His voice was deep, a little rough, the kind of tone that made something inside you settle. "Tired?"

You hummed in response, nuzzling just slightly into his chest. "Mm. Comfy."

A soft chuckle rumbled beneath you, and you could feel his amusement more than you could hear it. "So, you're just using me as a pillow, then?"

You smirked but didn’t open your eyes. "You make a good one."

Xavier huffed, but his hand on your back didn't stop its slow, lazy movements. "Lucky me."

There was no teasing in his voice, though—just something warm, something fond.

It wasn’t often that you got to be like this with him. Unrushed. No missions, no battle wounds, no chaos pulling you in opposite directions. Just you and him, together.

And God, it felt good.

His heartbeat was steady beneath your cheek, a quiet, comforting rhythm that made the exhaustion settle even deeper in your body.

Xavier didn’t push you to stay awake, didn’t urge you into conversation. He just let you rest.

And maybe that was what made it so easy to finally let yourself relax.

At some point, you started drifting.

It was slow, like sinking into warm water, the world softening around the edges. You could still hear him breathing, still feel the rise and fall of his chest, but everything was beginning to feel lighter.

And then—

A soft voice, close. "You gonna fall asleep on me?"

You made a vague noise of acknowledgment but didn’t move.

Another chuckle. "That’s a yes."

You felt him shift slightly, adjusting his hold on you, but he didn’t pull away. If anything, his grip on your waist tightened just slightly, as if anchoring you to him.

"You’re warm," you muttered, your voice sluggish with exhaustion.

Xavier huffed out a breath. "You're barely awake and that's what you choose to say?"

You smiled against his shirt. "Mhm."

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then, softer—quieter—"Good."

You might have imagined it, but his hand moved to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading gently through your hair. A touch so light it almost wasn’t there at all.

You sighed, content, before finally letting yourself fall.

When you woke up, you weren’t sure how long you had been asleep.

The first thing you noticed was that you were still on Xavier’s chest, still curled up against him like you had never moved. The second thing you noticed was that he hadn't moved either.

His arms were still wrapped around you, one hand resting at your lower back, the other still tangled lightly in your hair. His breathing was deep and even, but you weren’t sure if he was actually asleep or just resting.

You shifted slightly, tilting your head to glance up at him, and—

He was awake.

His blue eyes, always sharp and focused, were soft as they met yours. There was no teasing smirk, no witty remark. Just quiet warmth, something unreadable flickering in his expression.

"Morning," he murmured.

You blinked, still groggy. "Is it?"

A small, amused huff. "No. But you’ve been out for a while."

You exhaled, stretching slightly but making no effort to move away. "Why didn’t you wake me?"

Xavier’s fingers ghosted against your back again, tracing idle shapes. "Because you looked peaceful."

You stared at him for a moment, then rested your head back against his chest. "...Still comfy."

This time, he laughed—a soft, real laugh, not one of his usual teasing chuckles.

"You just gonna stay here forever, then?"

You hummed. "Might."

His heartbeat was still steady beneath your ear, his warmth still pulling you under. And God, if it was up to you, you wouldn’t move at all.

You must have fallen asleep again, because when you woke up next, the lights outside had shifted. The city was still glowing, but the colors were different—softer, cooler, as if the night had settled deeper.

You yawned, stretching slightly before blinking up at Xavier again. He was asleep now, his face more relaxed than you had ever seen it.

And something about that made you pause.

Xavier never truly let his guard down. Even when he was exhausted, even when he was resting, there was always something about him that remained sharp. Always aware, always prepared for whatever came next.

But right now?

Right now, he was peaceful. His lips were slightly parted, his expression free of tension, his breathing slow and even.

And you realized, with a quiet pang in your chest, that he had fallen asleep because he trusted you.

Carefully, hesitantly, you lifted a hand to brush a strand of silver hair from his forehead. Your fingers barely grazed his skin, but he didn’t stir.

You swallowed, something unspoken tightening in your throat.

You were safe with him.

And maybe—just maybe—he was safe with you, too.

You smiled, small but genuine, before settling back against him.

"Sleep well, Xavier," you whispered, knowing he wouldn’t hear you.

Then, listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat, you let yourself drift off once more.

Zayne

The world outside had slipped into an almost unnatural silence, the kind that only seemed to happen in the late hours of the night when everything around you had finally fallen still. The air was crisp and cool, but inside, the warmth of the apartment wrapped around you like a soft blanket. You had spent the evening together—dinner, quiet conversation, and some small talk that had faded into comfortable silence. Zayne’s usual stoic nature had softened somewhat, allowing you a glimpse of the ease he usually kept hidden behind the layers of his professionalism.

The clock on the wall ticked slowly as you settled beside him on the couch. Zayne sat with his legs stretched out in front of him, his back straight despite the fact that he had obviously spent long hours at work. His three-piece suit was loosened now—the jacket discarded, the top button of his shirt undone, and his glasses resting casually on the coffee table in front of him.

You noticed the tension in his shoulders, how he unconsciously worked his jaw, as if the stress of the day was still weighing heavily on him. Even after everything he had done, the hours he had put in, he still couldn’t seem to let go.

Without a word, you shifted closer, your body naturally gravitating toward his warmth. Zayne didn’t seem to notice at first, absorbed in his own thoughts, but when you rested your head gently against his chest, you felt him pause.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The quiet in the room was broken only by the soft hum of the city in the distance and the low sound of Zayne’s breathing.

Then, you heard it.

Thud-thud.

His heartbeat.

Slow, steady, and constant.

It was like a pulse that reverberated through his body, steadying your own. You hadn’t realized how much you missed it, how much you needed to hear it, until now. There was something about the sound of his heartbeat—something reassuring. Something grounding.

Zayne shifted, his hand slowly moving to your back, his touch light and hesitant at first, as though unsure whether he should be the one to initiate any sort of contact. But when he felt you settle against him, the tension in his fingers eased.

“You’re tired,” he whispered softly, his voice low and warm.

You hummed in response, not sure if you wanted to admit how exhausted you truly were.

“I know,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

Zayne’s hand moved slightly, his fingers brushing gently against your back, tracing light patterns across your shirt. There was no hurry in his movements—no urgency, just a simple, soft touch that seemed to say more than words ever could. The rhythm of his heartbeat against your ear grew louder, the thudding echoing in your mind as you closed your eyes, allowing it to lull you further into the moment.

His fingers brushed the nape of your neck, the motion tender, and for a fleeting moment, you felt the warmth of his touch in places you didn’t know you’d been longing for. The affection in his actions, the unspoken connection between you, was enough to make you feel more at ease than you ever had before.

Zayne was never one to show too much emotion, at least not outwardly. His professional demeanor kept him composed, distant even when he cared deeply. But in moments like this, where the world outside faded into a blur, it was as though his true self could breathe, and you could feel the softness beneath the armor he wore so often.

Thud-thud.

It was so constant, so unchanging. A reminder that no matter what the day had thrown at either of you, here, in this moment, things were calm. You were safe.

You pressed your ear a little closer to his chest, your cheek resting on the fabric of his shirt. The steady beat of his heart was becoming something you could depend on, something more constant than the passage of time.

“I’ve got you,” he said after a long pause, and even though it was a simple statement, it was one that carried the weight of his every unspoken promise.

You felt his hand move up, brushing softly through your hair, the action slow and deliberate. It wasn’t hurried. It wasn’t forceful. It was just him, being present. Being there.

“I know,” you whispered back.

The room was so still, so quiet. Zayne didn’t speak again. He didn’t need to. His presence, his heartbeat, was enough to keep you tethered to the moment, to him.

You allowed yourself to settle even further, your exhaustion beginning to take hold in a deeper way now. But there was something else there too—a feeling of peace, of contentment that you hadn’t realized you were craving. His touch was the anchor that kept you from drifting into sleep completely.

When you let your eyes fall shut, the warmth of his body against yours seemed to blanket you in comfort. You could feel the faint rise and fall of his chest beneath you, the subtle movement of his body, and the weight of his hand against your back. Everything about him—the rhythm of his heart, the quiet of his breathing, the soothing motions of his hand—wrapped you in something that felt like home.

“Stay with me for a little longer,” Zayne murmured, his voice a soft plea in the dim light of the room.

You didn’t answer immediately, simply nuzzling closer, breathing in the familiar scent of him—clean, calm, and grounded.

There was no rush. No need to go anywhere.

It was just you and him.

The thud of his heartbeat was all you needed. It was enough to lull you deeper into sleep, into dreams where his presence remained close.

Thud-thud.

The rhythm of his heart.

And in that moment, you knew there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

[my-castles-crumbling]

betrothed - @wolfstarmicrofic - cw: walburga is a bitch but Sirius is happy - word count: 374

Much to Sirius’s glee, it had been years since he’d seen his mother. Years since he’d had to suffer her judgemental glare or her painful punishments. And in those years, he’d had to learn and accept a lot about himself– things he’d never shared with his family. So now, at age twenty-five, he was the happiest he’d ever been.

Of course, all good things had to come to an end at some point. It just so happened that this ‘some point’ was the middle of the grocery store on a random Tuesday night.

He and Remus had decided to pick up some ingredients for dinner and Sirius had almost thrown up when he realized the ugly old woman in the produce section was indeed Walburga Black. 

“Sirius?”

The sharp voice caused flashbacks to his childhood, but Remus’s hand on his stiff arm calmed him, so he was able to keep his voice steady as he met her eyes. “Hello, Mother,” he greeted, avoiding crushing the orange he was holding in his hand.

Walburga stared at him for a long time, her expression hard and unreadable. “You look….well, I’m surprised to see you here. This is a nice part of town, after all,” she sniffed.

Sirius resisted the urge to laugh. “Thanks, Mother. Same to you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I heard you are engaged to be married. Perhaps you finally listened to what your father and I told you and chose a smart partner for yourself?”

Grinning slowly, Sirius nodded. “I think so, yes,” he answered as Remus shifted awkwardly next to him.

Walburga relaxed a little bit. “Well. That is a relief. It explains a lot, I can see now how you’ve managed to do so well for yourself even after betraying us so horribly. I’m assuming her family is wealthy?” She demanded. “I hope you’ve picked a girl with a decent bloodline.”

Stifling a manic laugh, Sirius jerked his head from side to side, wondering if his mother would murder him in the middle of the grocery store. “Well…when you say ‘picked a girl’...that’s not exactly…. Erm…meet Remus. My…betrothed.”

And that was the day Sirius learned that sometimes, it was fun to see people pass out into a giant container of oranges.

[millers-angel]

beach trip

dbf!joel miller x virgin!reader

summary: back home for the summer, a getaway to a beach resort takes an unexpected turn when you cross a line with Joel—your dad’s best friend. warnings: age gap, kind of mean joel, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), size kink (?, innocence kink, pet names, fluff at the end. wc: 7.7k

You're back from college just for the summer, and Dad had the great idea to plan a little getaway—a few days at a beach resort. Sun, sand, and overpriced cocktails. It sounded nice. Relaxing, even.

You’d already been home for a few days, not doing much. Helping Dad with a few things for work when he asked, watering the plants out front in the warm afternoon sun, taking long walks just to pass the time. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t exactly exciting either. So when he mentioned the trip, you figured—why not?

That is, until Dad dropped the bomb: he had invited Joel Miller.

Yeah. That Joel Miller. His best friend. The man who has lived across the street for as long as you can remember. The same Joel Miller you've spent years exchanging sarcastic remarks with, toeing the line between playful and downright rude, though neither of you has ever seemed to mind.

He's always been quick with a dry remark, and you've never been one to back down. If he calls you a pain in the ass, you call him old and grumpy. If you roll your eyes at something he says, he just smirks and shakes his head like you're some bratty kid he barely tolerates. It's been the same for years.

But now, thanks to Dad's brilliant idea, you're stuck in a beach resort with him for the next few days. And if the way Joel had looked at you when Dad announced the trip was any indication, he wasn't exactly thrilled about it either.

The sun was beating down, the scent of salt thick in the air as you stretched out on the lounge chair by the pool. The resort was nice, you'd give your dad that much. Fancy as hell, the kind of place that served cocktails in coconuts and had a little island bar just across the pool.

"Want a cocktail, sweetheart?" your dad asked, already pushing himself up from his seat.

"Yeah, something fruity," you replied, lazily adjusting your sunglasses.

He nodded, making his way toward the island bar, leaving you alone—well, almost.

Joel was still there, sitting in the chair beside you, one arm slung over the back, legs stretched out like he owned the damn place. You could feel his eyes on you before you even looked. A slow, deliberate gaze, sweeping over your body in a way that made heat rise up your neck. He didn't even try to be subtle about it.

Your bikini wasn't anything crazy, but that didn't stop his eyes from trailing along the curve of your hips, how the slopes of your breasts pump over the bra, the length of your legs, lingering just a little too long in places he had no business looking.

You huffed out a laugh, tilting your head toward him. "Close your mouth, Miller. You'll let the flies in."

Joel's gaze flicked up to yours, unbothered, amused even. A smirk pulled at his lips as he dragged his tongue along his teeth. "Hell," he muttered, shaking his head. "When did you grow up?"

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the way your stomach twisted at the way he said it—low, gruff, like he was realizing it for the first time.

"Go get in the pool, old man," you teased, sinking further into your chair. "Before you get heatstroke."

Joel just chuckled, but you caught the way his gaze dipped again before he looked away, like he wasn't quite done looking yet.

The afternoon sun hung high in the sky, warming your skin as you lounged back on the chair, toes buried in the hot sand. The sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air, mixed with the distant laughter of resort guests. A few feet ahead, your dad and Joel were waist-deep in the ocean, letting the waves push them around like kids.

You had no interest in joining them. The water looked nice, sure, but you were perfectly content where you were—stretched out, the salty breeze cooling the heat clinging to your skin.

That was, until your dad decided otherwise.

"Come on, sweetheart," he called, waving you over. "The water's perfect!"

"I'm fine," you replied, lifting your sunglasses just enough to glare at him.

But your dad wasn't having it. He waded closer to shore, hands on his hips like he was about to give you a whole speech on making the most of the trip. "Just for a bit," he pushed, eyes glinting with challenge. "Don't tell me you came all the way here just to sunbathe."

You sighed, knowing there was no getting out of it. With a dramatic groan, you stood, stretching just enough to feel Joel's eyes flicker toward you. If he had been watching before, he sure as hell was now.

The moment your feet hit the water, you shivered. It was cooler than you expected, the waves gentle at first—until they weren't.

A swell came up fast, knocking you off balance. You barely had time to react before the water dragged you under, flipping you over itself like a rag doll. You sputtered as you resurfaced, coughing up saltwater while your dad laughed at your misery.

Joel, on the other hand, wasn't laughing—at least, not in the same way. He was watching. Closely. The way the water clung to your skin, the way the wet sand stuck to your thighs, your stomach, the soft curve of your ass before the next wave washed it away.

You felt his stare even before you met his gaze. Dark, unreadable, something flickering in those brown eyes that made your stomach twist.

"Enjoying the show, Miller?" you teased, brushing wet hair from your face.

Joel just smirked, slow and lazy, eyes dragging over you one last time before he glanced away. "Just surprised you didn't drown," he shot back. "Thought I'd have to come save you."

You rolled your eyes, kicking up a splash of water in his direction. "Keep dreaming."

But as you turned away, you could still feel his gaze lingering, heavy and deliberate.

Dinner was nice. The three of you sat at one of the resort's restaurants, the warm glow of candlelight flickering against the polished wood of the table. The food was good, the conversation easy—your dad did most of the talking, as usual.

Joel was quieter than normal, but not in a bad way. He just... watched. Not in a creepy way, not at all, just with that same quiet intensity he always carried. Like he was trying to figure something out, intrigued in a way he wasn't used to. His eyes lingered, scanning your face, the curve of your wrist as you lifted your glass, the way you tucked your hair behind your ear.

You tried not to let it get to you.

After dinner, as the plates were being cleared, your dad leaned back in his chair, giving you a pointed look. "You going out to the bar or anything tonight?"

You shrugged. "Maybe."

"You should," he said, nodding as if he had just made up your mind for you. "It'd be good for you. Get your mind off all that college stress, let loose a little."

You huffed a small laugh, shaking your head. "You're not wrong," you admitted. "Maybe I will."

Your dad seemed satisfied with that answer, and soon after, the three of you parted ways for the night.

Back in your room, you hesitated.

The truth was, you weren't exactly the kind of person who let loose easily. You had always been more on the reserved side, quiet, the kind of person who didn't make friends easily. College hadn't changed that. Sure, you had acquaintances, classmates you talked to in passing, but you weren't the type to go out partying every weekend, to dance on tables or laugh too loud in crowded bars.

But tonight... tonight you wanted to try.

You took a deep breath and started getting ready.

A simple dress, short but not vulgar, hugging your body in all the right ways. Nothing too much, nothing over the top—just enough to feel different, to feel good.

The bar was livelier than you expected. Warm lighting, the low hum of conversation mixing with the soft melody of live music playing in the background. Groups of people filled the space, laughing, clinking glasses, bodies swaying near the small dance floor.

You hesitated at the entrance, suddenly hyperaware of how alone you were.

It wasn't like you expected to know anyone, but standing there, watching clusters of friends and couples, you felt out of place. Maybe this had been a bad idea. Maybe you should just turn around, head back to your room, and pretend you never even—

No.

You squared your shoulders and walked toward the bar, slipping onto an empty stool.

The bartender greeted you with an easy smile. "What can I get you?"

"Um," you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt. "A margarita, please."

A few minutes later, a glass was placed in front of you. You thanked him, wrapping your fingers around the cool surface, but when you lifted it to take a sip, you hesitated.

Drinking alone felt... weird.

You glanced around, watching people chatting in groups, leaning into each other with familiarity. No one else seemed to be alone. It made you shrink into yourself a little, embarrassment creeping up your neck.

Still, you took a sip.

You were halfway through your drink when someone slid into the empty seat beside you.

"Can I get a whiskey?" the man asked the bartender before turning his attention to you.

You tensed slightly as his gaze swept over you, taking you in. He was tall, dark-haired, dressed in a loose button-up that clung to his frame just enough to suggest he took care of himself.

"You here alone?" he asked, voice smooth, casual.

You hesitated, fingers tightening slightly around your glass. "Yeah."

He nodded, ordering his drink before looking back at you. "First night here?"

You shook your head. "Got here earlier."

His lips quirked in an easy smile. "That so? Well, I'm glad I ran into you."

The conversation flowed easily, helped by the soft buzz of alcohol warming your veins. He asked about you—what you were studying, how long you were back for—and you answered, telling him about college, about coming home for the summer. He listened with genuine interest, nodding along as he sipped his drink. In return, he told you about his job, something business-related, though you were too distracted by the way his voice dipped, the way his fingers toyed with the rim of his glass, to really focus on the details.

At some point, he ordered you another drink. You hesitated, just for a second, but then nodded, letting yourself relax just a little more.

You weren't used to this—being approached, being the center of someone's attention—but it was... nice. Different.

And when he extended a hand, his eyes warm with invitation, you didn't think twice before taking it.

The music was low, sultry, a slow rhythm that thrummed through your chest as he led you to the dance floor. You moved together easily, the alcohol making you lighter, more willing. His hands found your waist, firm but not forceful, pulling you in just a little closer. The heat of his palms burned through the thin fabric of your dress, and you swallowed hard, suddenly aware of just how close your bodies were.

You weren't sure how you felt about it.

It wasn't bad. It was just... new. A little overwhelming.

But you didn't pull away.

You let him guide you, let yourself sway with the music, let his hands settle comfortably at your hips.

And then—

A presence. Heavy. Familiar.

Joel.

"Hey, kid."

Joel's voice cut through the music, deep and unmistakable.

You stiffened instantly.

The man holding your waist paused, his grip loosening slightly as both of you turned toward the source of interruption. And there he was—Joel, standing at the edge of the dance floor, arms crossed over his broad chest, a knowing smirk playing at his lips.

"What the hell are you doing?" you shot back, narrowing your eyes.

His smirk deepened. "Just checkin' in on you. Didn't know this was a kid's space."

Heat rushed to your face.

"I'm not a kid," you snapped, pulling your arms from around your dance partner's shoulders, but Joel wasn't even looking at you anymore.

Instead, his attention had shifted to the man standing beside you, his expression unreadable. The man—whose name you had already forgotten—cleared his throat, glancing between the two of you. "Uh, you know him?"

You opened your mouth, ready to brush it off, but Joel beat you to it.

"Oh, yeah," he said, voice filled with amusement. "She's like my little shadow, been followin' me around since always, annoying me you know, likes actin' all mean, but we all know it's because she craves attention."

Your stomach plummeted.

The man blinked in surprise before—before laughing.

It wasn't cruel, but it didn't matter. The damage was done.

You could feel the humiliation creeping up your spine, burning your skin from the inside out. You took a step back, suddenly desperate for space.

"Unbelievable," you muttered under your breath, turning on your heel.

You didn't bother looking back as you weaved through the crowd, ignoring the way Joel's eyes followed you, ignoring the way your chest felt too tight, ignoring everything except the overwhelming need to get out of there.

The warm night air did little to cool the heat burning under your skin as you pushed through the bar's entrance, stepping outside with quick, angry strides. The music still thumped behind you, muffled by the thick walls, but it didn't drown out the sound of footsteps following close behind.

"Where the hell are you goin'?" Joel's voice was steady, but there was something else there—something unreadable.

You didn't stop.

"Back to my room," you muttered, jaw tight.

"C'mon, don't be dramatic. Just get back inside," he said, voice lighter, like he wasn't taking any of this seriously, like he thought this was just another game you were playing.

That was it.

"Fuck off, Joel."

You turned on him, eyes burning, fists clenched at your sides.

His smirk faltered. "Jesus, alright. No need to throw a tantrum."

You scoffed, shaking your head, turning to leave—but before you could take another step, his fingers wrapped around your wrist.

"Let me go," you said, voice low and sharp, barely restrained.

He didn't.

Instead, he tugged you just enough to make you stumble back toward him. "You pissed 'cause I ruined your little date?"

You let out a humorless laugh. "Are you fucking serious?"

Joel tilted his head, watching you carefully. "Ain't that what this is about?"

Something about the way he said it—so casual, so certain—made something inside you snap.

"No, Joel," you hissed, yanking your arm out of his grip. "It's about you humiliating me. It's about you treating me like I'm still some little kid when I'm not, or the things you think about me—that I'm annoying." Your voice cracked on the last word, and you hated it, hated the way he looked at you then. "So congratulations, okay? You got your little joke, you made me look like a fool. Are you happy now?"

Joel's expression shifted, something like regret flickering across his face, but you didn't stick around to let him respond.

You turned and walked away, shoulders squared, swallowing down the lump in your throat before it could turn into something worse.

The room felt too quiet, too empty when you stepped inside. You kicked off your heels, the soft thud of them against the floor the only sound as you crossed to the bed.

This wasn't how tonight was supposed to go.

You had spent so much time getting ready, standing in front of the mirror, second-guessing every detail. You'd told yourself you were doing it for you, that you wanted to go out and have fun, to feel good for once—but now, sitting at the edge of the bed, the dress that once made you feel beautiful now felt like a cruel joke.

Joel thought you were annoying. A little shadow that followed him around, desperate for attention.

Was that how everyone saw you?

Is that why you barely had any friends in college? Why it was always so hard to fit in?

The thought stung worse than it should have.

You blinked hard, but it didn't stop the tears from spilling over, slipping down your cheeks as you reached behind yourself, tugging down the zipper of your dress. It pooled at your feet, forgotten as you wiped your face quickly, sniffling as you reached for the oversized T-shirt draped over a chair. It was your dad's—soft and worn, far too big on you, but comforting in a way nothing else was right now.

Pulling it over your head, you made your way to the balcony, arms wrapping around yourself as you stepped into the humid night air. The sound of the waves filled your ears, the scent of salt thick in the breeze. It should have been peaceful. It should have calmed you.

But it didn't.

Because no matter how hard you tried, you could still hear Joel's voice in your head.

A soft knock at the door made you flinch.

Your dad? No, he's probably asleep by now, you know him well.

Another knock.

You turned, padding back inside, wiping at your face one last time before pulling open the door—

Joel.

Your stomach twisted.

He opened his mouth, but before he could get a single word out, you slammed the door in his face.

"Open the door," Joel's voice came from the other side, low and steady.

You pressed your forehead against the cool wood, eyes squeezing shut. "Go away, Joel."

"Come on, kid—"

"Fuck off," you snapped, voice sharp with the lingering sting of humiliation.

A pause. A sigh. Then—"I'm sorry."

You huffed, arms tightening around yourself. "Yeah, well. Great. Now you can leave."

"I need to say it to your face."

You hesitated.

The last thing you wanted was to deal with him right now, but you also knew Joel—knew he wouldn't leave until he got what he wanted.

Jaw tight, you unlocked the door and yanked it open.

He was standing there, hands on his hips, looking... not as smug as usual. That only irritated you more.

"Can I come in?" he asked, gaze flickering over you, taking in the oversized shirt, the bare legs.

"No."

Joel exhaled through his nose—and then walked past you anyway.

"Jesus Christ," you muttered, shutting the door behind him.

"I just wanna talk," he said, holding up his hands like he was trying to calm you. "That's it."

You folded your arms over your chest, biting the inside of your cheek.

Joel sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I didn't know the damn date was that important to you."

A scoff left your lips before you could stop it. "You're a fucking idiot."

He scoffed back. "I'm trying to apologize. You're upset to me and I get it, I didn't think it was something... so serious, you know? Like you wanted to get laid—"

Joel's words hit you like a slap.

Your body tensed, nails digging into your palms as you glared at him. "Get out."

He blinked, looking genuinely confused by your reaction. "What? Why?"

"Because you're an asshole, that's why."

He exhaled, rolling his eyes. "Look, I'm just saying—it's not a big deal. It happens to everyone. You're young, you're supposed to have fun, I get it, it's normal, it's—"

"Not your problem," you cut him off, voice sharp.

Joel's lips twitched, like he was amused by something.

You clenched your fists. "Change that stupid look on your face and leave."

He tilted his head slightly, studying you, and then—"It's 'cause you're a virgin, isn't it?"

Your entire body went hot.

The words burrowed under your skin, setting your nerves on fire. "That's not your business," you shot back too quickly, too defensively.

His eyes darkened, the amusement flickering with something else. "Huh. All this time in college, and you never—?"

Your throat tightened. "You don't know anything about me."

He chuckled. "That explains a lot."

Your glare sharpened. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged. "Just that... only a virgin acts like this all the time. All bratty and wound up, like you're just beggin' for someone to—"

"Get out." you shouted, shoving at his chest, face burning with embarrassment and fury.

Joel barely stumbled back at your shove, his body solid as a wall. But before you could push him again, before you could do anything else, his hands found your wrists, firm but not rough, and in a swift motion, he guided you backward.

Your knees hit the edge of the bed. You tried to step away, to free yourself, but he only pressed forward, until you had no choice but to sit.

You didn't say anything. He was right, but you feel a little embarrassed about it, you're all grown up and still a virgin.

Joel exhaled, his grip on your wrists loosening, but he didn't step away. His eyes stayed locked on yours, dark and unreadable. "That guy," he started, voice low, "he wasn't lookin' at you like a person. He was lookin' at you like a piece of meat. And he was touchin' you the same way."

You scoffed, shaking your head. "Don't lecture me, Joel. Just accept that you were an asshole and move on."

His jaw clenched, but after a moment, he gave a small nod. "Fine," he said. "I was an asshole. And I'm sorry." His fingers twitched against your skin, as if debating whether to let go or hold on tighter. "But I wasn't tryin' to ruin your night—I just didn't want anything bad to happen to you."

You exhaled sharply, frustration curling in your stomach. "I'm not some naive little girl, Joel. I can handle myself."

Something flickered in his expression, something you couldn't quite place, but whatever it was made heat rise to your cheeks. "You're not naive?" he murmured, almost like he was testing the words. His thumb brushed against the inside of your wrist, sending a shiver down your spine. "Could've fooled me."

Your eyes narrowed, and you tried to jerk your hands away, but he didn't let you. "You're such a—"

His lips crashed against yours before you could finish, swallowing whatever insult was on your tongue. You gasped into his mouth, but he took advantage of it, deepening the kiss, his hands finally releasing your wrists only to slide down your arms, gripping your waist. The heat between you both ignited in an instant, like a match striking dry tinder, and before you knew it, you were falling back against the bed, Joel following you down.

His weight pressed against you, solid and warm, his knee slotting between your thighs as his mouth moved hungrily over yours. He kissed you like he had been waiting for this moment—like he had been holding back for far too long and had finally given in. Your fingers found the fabric of his shirt, fisting it as you arched slightly beneath him, breath hitching when his lips trailed down your jaw, your neck.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" he muttered against your skin, his voice rough, thick with something you couldn't quite name.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly, your heart hammering against your ribs. "Then maybe you should stop," you murmured back, though your fingers betrayed you, gripping him tighter instead of pushing him away.

Joel pulled back just enough to look at you, his pupils blown wide, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. His thumb dragged along your lower lip, eyes darting between your mouth and your eyes.

"Don't think I can," he admitted.

"You don't even like me," you mumbled, embarrassed.

Joel's thumb lingered on your lip, his gaze heavy, but the moment your words left your mouth, something in his expression shifted. A flicker of regret, of something deeper, flashed in his eyes.

"That's not true," he murmured, his voice softer now, rough around the edges but sincere. "What I said in the bar—it was bullshit. I don't think you're annoying. I love it when you mess with me, when you push my buttons." He exhaled sharply, his fingers tightening against your waist. "I just... I lost it when I saw him touching you. That's all."

Your brows furrowed, something twisting in your chest at his words. "You humiliated me," you said, voice quiet but firm. "For no reason. You hurt my feelings over something stupid."

Joel shut his eyes briefly, exhaling like he was trying to steady himself. When he looked at you again, there was nothing playful left—just raw honesty. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to. It—it was just a damn impulse, alright? You drive me crazy. I haven't stopped thinkin' about you since you came back, and then I saw his hands on you, and I—" He cut himself off, his fingers dragging along the bare skin of your thigh, slow and deliberate.

A shiver ran through you, heat pooling in your stomach. You hated how easily he could pull you back in, how one touch had your breath catching. His palm slid higher, pushing the hem of your dress up just slightly, his calloused fingers warm against your skin.

Your heart pounded. "That's not fair," you whispered.

Joel's lips curved slightly, just a ghost of a smirk, but his eyes stayed dark. "Probably not." His thumb brushed along the sensitive inside of your thigh, watching the way you reacted, the way your lips parted just slightly. "But I'm done pretendin' I don't want you."

His words sent a jolt of heat through you, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. He was too close, his breath fanning against your cheek, his fingers still moving—slow, teasing.

"Say somethin'," he murmured, his forehead nearly touching yours now. "Tell me to stop."

But you didn't.

His hand is way too far—far enough to feel you're wearing nothing but panties under the shirt. You licked your lips once he moved his hand to your belly.

"Have you ever been touched, sweet girl?"

You swallowed. "I don't think this is appropriate,"

Joel hummed low in his throat, his hand pressing just a little firmer against your stomach, the warmth of his palm seeping into your skin. His lips hovered near your jaw, his breath fanning over your skin as he spoke.

"Why?" he murmured. "'Cause you're a virgin?"

You swallowed hard, gripping at his wrist as if that would stop the way your body responded to him. "Because my dad is your friend," you whispered, your voice unsteady.

Joel let out a quiet chuckle, deep and knowing. His nose brushed against the curve of your jaw, his lips barely grazing the sensitive skin beneath your ear. "Mm," he mused, his fingers slipping lower, teasing just above the waistband of your panties. "That ain't stoppin' you."

Your breath hitched.

He tilted his head, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the side of your neck, then another. His beard scratched against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. "You haven't told me to stop," he murmured against your throat, his voice smooth, coaxing.

Your fingers curled against his arm, your pulse hammering in your ears. You should tell him to stop. You should push him away. But you didn't.

His hand lowered to your belly, going down to play with the waistband of your panties, then teasing his finger on your mound, sending shivers all over your body, getting you even more wet.

"Is it okay if I touch you here?"

Even if every part of your brain was telling you that you should stop before this goes further, you nodded like a fool, looking for his mouth again.

His fingers made they way under your panties. He could felt the smooth skin, probably never touched before because... he could feel how wet you were and—

"So you're really a virgin," he said amused, breaking the kiss, your lips still lingered by a string of drool. "Virgins get wet so easily."

You bite your lip. "Is that a problem? Cause if so, you should stop."

Joel chuckled, low and deep, his lips ghosting over yours. "Stop?" he murmured, his hand slipping just a little lower, teasing. "Darlin', I've been fightin' the urge to touch you since the moment I laid eyes on you. Now that I have you like this... I ain't goin' anywhere."

He spreaded your legs, played with your panty til your crotch. "Then why do you make it sound so embarrassing?" you asked sheepishly.

He finally reached your slit, you gasped, you were a bit scared. Are you gonna fuck for the first time with your dad's best friend? Would it hurt? Would it be weird after? A lot is going through your mind, but he cleared all your thoughts.

He pressed his lips against yours as he drawed circles on your clit, he could feel how needy and swollen it was, you must've been aching. You muffled a whimper against his lips, which he found really hot.

Instinctively you grinded your hips, just seeking for more pleasure. Your fingers curled on his hair, clutching it. He loves to feel how you writhe beneath him, his fingers exploring your folds, until they found your hole.

He didn't went rough, he was slow, deliberate, slowly stretching you out with his fingers—thick and strong. You couldn't help to moan, breaking the kiss. It was the first time you get this far with someone, lust runs in your veins.

Joel grins at the sound of your moan, enjoying the way you're falling apart under his touch.

"That's it, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice filled with a mixture of amusement and desire. "Let go. Let me hear you."

He continues to move his fingers, adding a second one to stretch you even further, his movements still slow and deliberate but with a hint of impatience.

"You're so tight for me, babygirl"

"Oh, God," you whimpered.

Joel's fingers are slick with your juices as he moves them in and out of you, his movements growing more urgent with each thrust.

Your skin is so smooth and soft, but you're also so hot and tight. He can feel every muscle in your body clenching around him, trying to pull him in deeper. It's driving him crazy, making him want to take you even more.

He leans down and kisses your neck, his teeth grazing against your skin as he whispers in your ear. "You've been touched like this before?"

You shook your head. "No."

He smirked, he knew it. You were a pain in the ass, you loved getting on his nerves, you loved getting in his head because deep down you wanted him like this.

He stopped working his fingers in you, to get rid of your panties, with no warning, he just threw the garment somewhere in the room, changing positions to toss your calves over his shouders, holding your hips.

Your hand instinctively covered your slit, you were embarrassed, after all, he was someone you knew, someone who is close to your dad, someone who—

"Don't hide from me, angel," he said taking your hands to his lips. "I wanna taste you."

"Joel—" you swallowed. "I'm—"

"You don't need to be shy with me,"

He drew your hands away, just to see how flushed, swollen and needy your pussy was. Glistening in your own juices.

His gaze made you squirm, made you feel all your blood rushing to your cheeks. It wasn't bad—it was the opposite. It was dark and deep, like he was starving and had just laid eyes on a feast laid out before him.

You could feel his breath, his lips barely touching your folds. He wanted to feel every part of you, never thought he would have his best friend's daughter laid in front of him like this, showing all her vulnerability to him.

Joel's tongue darts out to lick his lips, his gaze fixated on your body. He moves his mouth lower, kissing and sucking on your inner thighs, leaving a trail of marks behind.

"Don't be a tease, Joel," you whined.

Joel grins against your skin, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh. "Oh, I'm just getting started," he says, his voice a mixture of amusement and desire.

He moves his mouth to your clit, sucking on it hard as his fingers continue to move inside you, curling and rubbing against your sensitive spot.

It was heaven. The way his tongue swirled on you, the way he knew exactly how to do it, the way his fingers kept working on you, taking you to the edge.

Joel's tongue is like a snake, moving slowly but firmly, tasting every inch of you. He licks and nibbles at your folds, exploring every curve and contour, savoring the taste of your juices. His tongue is slick and warm, sending shivers of pleasure through your body.

You were biting your lip, trying to muffle your moans but failing miserably. You were curling your toes, so close to the orgasm.

"Joel, please—" you yelped.

Joel lifts his head for a moment, his lips glistening with your juices. "I know you are, angel," he says, his voice low and rough. "You're close. I can feel it. Just let go, let yourself fall apart for me, babygirl."

He dives back in, this time, he's gonna taste you directly from the source. His tongue plunging into your core, searching for that sweet spot that will push you over the edge.

Joel's tongue continues to move inside you, thrusting in and out in a steady rhythm. He moves his hands to your thighs, holding you in place as he feasts on you.

"You taste like heaven," he repeats, his voice strained with pleasure.

He flicks his tongue against your clit, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

Enough to make you come.

Writhing, your legs shaking because it was too much. You let yourself fall apart, panting, moaning, saying his name.

He pressed his lips on your thighs, then slowly pulled your calves from his shoulders.

You were just recovering, but he just took off his jeans, you were amused, biting your lip, but once you saw his bulge, your gaze changed.

Surprised and... a little scared. It was too big, it will defenitely hurt, also, now that you see that this is going serious, you don't have condoms, but you want to do it.

You sit on your knees to help him getting rid of his shirt and his boxers. You adored his body, you've seen it before, but not like this, so... raw. His cock was dripping precum, it was swollen, his base hairy... you were eager to touch him.

Your gaze was sticked to his cock, the way he held it. "Can I touch it?" you asked sheepishly looking at him through your lashes.

His cock twitched in response. "Yeah, you can touch me,"

You swallowed and the tip of your finger barely touched his tip... it wasn't even entirely when he made you lay back in bed. He couldn't take it, you were almost too innocent, the way your first thought was to touch the tip and not fist him, the way your finger looked so small. He won't last long if you keep doing that.

"That's unfair—" you knitted your brows.

"I'm sorry, angel. You will touch me tomorrow, but right now I need to fuck you."

Your cheeks burned and your knees were still together. He laid his hands on them but you talked before he could spread them.

"Joel, I don't have any condoms,"

He chuckled. "Me neither,"

"What should we do?" your face almost screamed panic, it was really sweet and also, of course you had a point, but his mind only worked for pleasure right now.

"You want us to stop?" you shook your head. "Okay, then trust me, I'll pull out on time,"

"But it's still risky—"

"Jesus," he finally spreaded you open. "I ain't gonna hurt you, I promise,"

You nodded, trusting blindly in him.. because right now, you could only think about your own pleasure too.

He teased his tip all over your slit, mixing your juices, rubbing his cock against your slit, feeling how small it felt. He didn't want to hurt you, he knew you'd feel fucking good to fuck.

"Take your shirt off," he growled.

You didn't need to be told twice, you tugged the piece of fabric over your head, revealing your bare breasts to him. He had imagined them before, how your nipples would be, back in the pool, in the beach, they were covered just by a rectangle but they were hiding so much.

He went inside slowly. Your hands grasped to his arms, whining and made a face of pain. He knew it would hurt but he knows you'll feel good in a couple of seconds.

Once he was finally inside, he didn't move for a couple of seconds—you felt them like an eternity. You were choking him, you were warm, soft... tight, it was too much.

"Please—" you whimpered.

He locked his gaze on yours and thrusted. It hurt, and it kept hurting until it didn't, until all the pain was replaced with pleasure and lust.

He was being as gentle as possible. You wrapped his torso, sticking him even closer to you.

His weight all over you but you could only plea for more. Your walls throbbed and so did his cock. It felt good. Joel was making you squirm, losing your mind over him.

Moaning, clawing your nails on his back, he's sure you're gonna leave marks, scratches, but he couldn't care less.

"You're taking it so good," he groaned.

You hummed something incoherent in response, couldn't even mouth a word.

"So tight," his head found its way to the crook of your neck. "Such a good girl,"

He nudged your g-spot, thrusting and nibbling your neck, leaving little marks, feeling your intoxicating scent.

The way you moaned his name, softly and needy, made him lost his mind.

You whined. "Joel, don't—" your eyes roll involuntarily. "I'm gonna—"

"Yeah, that's it, come for me," he cooed on your ear.

And you needed less. You followed his order, losing yourself, reaching your second orgasm. Your walls choked him, he never felt anything tighter before. You were milking him... and he would've shot his load inside you, God knows he would've.

But he couldn't take the risk. He pulled out with a loud pop sound of juices.

He jerked off until his cum was costing your slit. It was so much he felt like a teen.

Your body was still trembling, weak from the overwhelming sensations, but you didn't regret a thing. Every nerve felt alive, sensitive to even the faintest touch of the sheets beneath you.

Joel stood up, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment. A moment later, he returned, a warm cloth in hand.

He was gentle as he cleaned you, careful, his touch lingering just a little longer than necessary. You appreciated that—the quiet care in his actions, the way he wasn't rushing to leave.

You expected him to grab his things and go, to put some distance between you now that it was over. But to your surprise, Joel didn't move toward the door. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed, then slipped under the covers beside you, his warmth seeping into your skin as he pulled the blanket over both of you.

You turned your head, meeting his gaze in the dim light. "I really enjoyed it," you admitted, your voice soft, a little shy.

Joel let out a low hum, his hand finding your waist beneath the sheets. "Me too," he murmured, his thumb tracing slow circles against your skin. "More than you think."

His words settled deep inside you, warm and reassuring. You let yourself relax, curling into his side, and when he reached up to brush a strand of hair from your face, you leaned into the touch.

For the first time that night, you didn't overthink. You just let yourself be held.

Joel let out a slow breath, his fingers still tracing idle circles against your waist. You hesitated for a moment before speaking, your voice quieter now, softer.

"I'm sorry," you murmured.

His brows furrowed. "For what?"

You swallowed, fingers playing with the edge of the sheet. "For being... I don't know, a little much sometimes. I know I can be stubborn, or—" you let out a small, nervous laugh—"annoying, like you said."

Joel shook his head immediately. "Don’t say that," he muttered, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. "Drives me crazy when you push my buttons, yeah, but that don’t mean I don’t like it." His voice dipped lower, rougher. "I like it too damn much."

You blinked up at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone.

He exhaled, his thumb running along your ribs. "I’m sorry for makin’ you feel like you were a bother. You never were. Never will be."

A comfortable silence settled between you, warm and easy, interrupted only by the rhythmic crash of the waves outside. You traced lazy patterns over his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart before finally speaking again.

"So..." you hesitated, biting your lip. "Are we gonna do it again?"

Joel huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. "Sweetheart," he said, amused, "you damn near killed me. Need a minute before you wear me out completely."

You laughed, lightly smacking his arm, but you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips as he pulled you closer, pressing a lazy kiss to your forehead.

"Not now. I know old men usually take—"

He laughed, hard, delighted. "Old man? This old man just made you have two orgasms in a row."

You rolled your eyes, but still could feel your cheeks warm. "I was talking about doing it tomorrow? Maybe? I mean, I would like to get better, learn new things,"

Joel smirked, shifting onto his side so he could look at you properly. His fingers brushed over your hip, lazy and warm. "Oh, now look at you," he murmured, voice dipping into something teasing. "All shy all of a sudden."

Your face burned. "I’m not shy," you muttered, avoiding his gaze.

"Mm-hmm." His thumb traced slow circles against your skin. "So let me get this straight—you’re askin’ me to teach you a few things?"

Your stomach flipped at the way he said it, low and knowing. You swallowed hard, lips parting, but the words seemed to stick in your throat.

Joel grinned, leaning in just enough that his lips brushed your ear. "That’s real cute, sweetheart," he murmured. "But you gotta use your words."

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "Forget I said anything."

His chuckle rumbled against your skin as he pulled you closer, pressing a kiss just below your ear. "Oh, no. I heard you loud and clear," he mused, his breath warm against your skin. "And don’t you worry—I’ll make sure you learn real good."

You sighed, utterly spent, and rolled onto your stomach, your body sinking into the mattress. The exhaustion tugged at you almost instantly, a deep, pleasant heaviness settling into your limbs. Your eyes fluttered shut, the thought drifted lazily through your mind—maybe tomorrow, you could sneak into his room. The idea made your lips curve slightly before sleep pulled you under and within moments, your breathing evened out, soft and steady.

Joel propped himself up on one elbow, watching you. His fingers ghosted over the curve of your back, barely touching, just tracing the shape of you beneath the sheets. The room was quiet, save for the distant sound of waves crashing outside, but inside his head—inside his chest—everything was loud.

He should feel guilty. Hell, maybe he did, a little. Not because he regretted it—because he didn’t. Not even for a second. But because it was you. His best friend's daughter. And not only had he slept with you, but he'd been your first. That should’ve weighed on him more, should’ve made him hesitate, should’ve made him pull away before any of this happened.

But looking at you now—peaceful, lips slightly parted as you breathed, hair splayed out over the pillow—any guilt that tried to surface didn’t stand a chance.

Because you were beautiful. And, God knows, you drove him crazy.

He dragged a hand down his face, exhaling quietly.

He was in trouble. 

The morning sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains of the resort’s dining area, casting a warm glow over the table set with fresh fruit, toast, and steaming cups of coffee. The soft hum of conversation filled the space, blending with the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore.

You sat across from Joel, the cool tile of the floor smooth beneath your bare foot as you stretched out, pressing lightly against his leg beneath the table. A small, teasing touch.

Joel didn’t react at first. Just sipped his coffee, gaze flicking up to meet yours over the rim of his cup. But when you dragged your foot higher, brushing along his calf, the muscle in his jaw ticked.

Your lips curled slightly, feigning innocence as you reached for a piece of fruit, taking a slow bite.

"You’re in a good mood this morning," your dad commented, flipping through the resort’s activity pamphlet. "Had fun last night?"

Your breath hitched, fingers tightening around your fork.

Joel cleared his throat, setting his mug down a little too carefully.

You forced yourself to nod, hoping the heat in your face wasn’t too obvious. "Yeah," you said, voice just a little too high. "I had a really good time."

Joel let out the smallest chuckle, shaking his head as he reached for the butter.

"Glad to hear it," your dad said, turning a page. "This trip’s all about relaxing. You deserve to enjoy yourself, sweetheart."

You nodded, glancing at Joel, at the way he was watching you now—something dark, something knowing.

"And," your dad added, stretching back in his chair. "Summer’s just getting started."

Your stomach fluttered. If only dad knew...

Yeah. Summer had just begun.

[thepleathersfine]

AAAAAAAA you’re so nice man😭 you’ve been such a great friend and I love love love seeing your art. I don’t know how you manage to stay motivated with the amount of new stuff you’re always putting out. Thank you <3333 (Also putting my husband in a tupperware and shaking it violently)

Ahem

@bred-toaster My pookie schmookie my bestie my every Pinterest post reminds me of you my I die a little inside when I notice I picked up one of your mannerisms. Bred, my first friend, my enemy. Maybe the last face I ever see (hamilton) we’re literally what killed the dinosaurs (you know that one) 🫶 I heart you and let it be known I found out about chappell roan first☝️and no this was not an elaborate plea for Odin’s brother to appear in my room at exactly 2:13 A.M. I literally don’t know what you’re talking about.

@arborpoo Boyfriend. I looooove yooooou <33333 just letting it be known that I finished your valentines gift. You’re so lovely, I hope you know that. Working on our aus has been so great. Ngl watching you be all silly and creative is very much what made me fall for you (along with 1000 other things.) Looking back I never expected any of this, I couldn’t have imagined you’d become so incredibly important to me. I’m so lucky to have you. Also currently absorbing Zy, no, you can’t do anything about this. He’s doomed to a good happy ending. (Oh and atlas bell drowned last night.)

@brick-678 hi ellis. You’re mean but silly so you’re here. In lieu of a proper appreciation post I considered writing a bunch of inspirational quotes in commemoration of baby ellis’ art. But ehhhhh wtf are you doing for sam though. Wild that my DAD asked if you were doing anything for valentines before I even considered it. Especially since I deadass have asked everyone else???? You and sam need to do more pdfs or whatever, and I swear if you say you’re broke again I’m gonna cry. Anyway your ocs are silly, if we could go back to poking Esme with a stick that’d be sick.

@bennyben117 I’m terrified of your disc pfp. Also tell adam I say hi

@arborpoo Hi yes you again this is for my brother husband in Christ, Ze, cause he doesn’t have a tumblr I’m aware of. I just wanted to say when I mention him to my dad he gets jumpscared

positivity train!

if you see this or are tagged in it, tag a couple of your favorite mutuals/blogs and let them know you appreciate seeing them on your dash!

@h0neysugarfree @blueberrylovv @bequiteanddriveeeeeee @cherri-bomb-bomb @eg0mechan1c @fatrexicisback

[formulawolff]

a weekend in buffalo — d.r.

pairing -> fem!driver reader x daniel ricciardo

word count -> smau

warnings -> none really, just some gossip accounts, some softness, and photos of a couple making out, internet hate/slut shaming, cursing

a/n -> life has been overwhelming but the idea of gg with daniel makes me want to write. for now my brain came up with this. i hope y’all like it <3

liked by f1fangirl, f1daily, alex_albon, and 73,029 others!

f1teaspill it appears that daniel ricciardo has been spotted out and about in buffalo. but this time, he has company…. ☕️

user9229 guys are we sure this is real

f1teaspill these photos were sent to me through dms by fans. i cannot confirm nor deny the validity of the photos. i only share what is shared with me! ☺️

redbull4ever so what you’re saying is that there may be a chance these pics are fake…

mercgirly420 MIND YOU IT HAS ONLY BEEN A FEW MONTHS SINCE SHE BROKE TOTO’S HEART‼️

williamsstan girl we don’t know the full story about that so let’s be mindful of criticizing someone for moving on…

mercgirly420 girl stfu we all know this girl is a slut and only used toto to gain an advantage at a better team. she basically said that herself at the press conference at cota. that’s probably when she and daniel started to [more]

williamsstan respectfully, i’m not reading all of that 🤍

goldengirlforever we don’t even know if that’s our golden girl so you need to shut the fuck up 🤍

f1fan03939 HELLO⁉️ ALEX LIKED THE POST⁉️

user820 ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE⁉️

f1stan636 uhhhh … is that… golden girl?

mercfan67 i think so. the height, hair color, stature, all match.

user45 guys i'm going to the game this weekend. i'll keep an eye out for gg and daniel! 🫡

f1fangirl2003 this is going to be an insane weekend for the daniel and gg truthers if this proves to be true

dannyfantom i am going to lose my shit (in the best way possible) if it's true!

user2004 these pics are so grainy tho.. we can't really be sure it's her!

user1999 ew what a slut. can't believe she emotionally cheated on toto.

user2001 ugh he deserves better than that home-wrecking whore 🤢

goldengirl posted to her story!

danielricciardo just posted!

liked by maxverstappen1, goldengirl.jpg, joshallenqb, and 932,002 others!

danielricciardo another great weekend in buffalo

view 2,204 comments

joshallenqb who is that beautiful man wearing the hard hat? 😩

danielricciardo your bf

maxverstappen1 it's nice to see you enjoying yourself in the states mate! 😆

danielricciardo thank you! ☺️ i can't wait to see you at cota!

dannyricstan how do i like this post more than once?

user1998 wow i love paris this time of year

f1fan19972 daniel pls tell me you're not dating that slut from the states...

user45 screaming crying throwing up how is a man so beautiful

f1girly is this gg's burner cause...

yukitsunoda0511 i see this post made it to the wrong side of instagram 🙃

oscarpiastri what a man!

danielricciardo nah that's you sugar 😘

f1fan2023 why are you and gg both in buffalo?

f1user2005 yeah let's talk about that!

f1user05 praying that the rumors aren't true 😔

danielricciardo i fear that you have more important things to worry about

dannyric09 ummm so what's going on?

f1teapage no one knows atp

goldengirl.jpg just posted!

liked by danielricciardo, alex_albon, maxverstappen1, and 15,037 others!

goldengirl.jpg alexa, play this is the life by two door cinema club

danielricciardo slowly but surely indoctrinating you as a bills fan

goldengirl.jpg josh allen is a pretty cool guy!

maxverstappen1 nice to see you two enjoyed the weekend! 😄

alex_albon i say we get tix to a raiders game when we’re in vegas 🙂‍↕️

goldengirl.jpg brb running to check their schedule

goldengirl.jpg as long as we can invite my daniel i will be happy to go

goldengirlstan HELLO⁉️ “my daniel”

user7273 ISTHISAHARDLAUNCHICANT

gg939 GOLDEN GIRL X DANIEL TRUTHERS RISE UP‼️

lilymhe ugh stop it you look soooo good in the red + blue combo

lilymhe brb searching up how to be as gorgeous as golden girl

lilymhe also can't wait for the debrief. lmk when you're back home plssssss

landonorris love u both

landonorris mom n dad

goldengirl.jpg ugh love u son <3

oscarpiastri honorary parents

f1user2006 WHY IS NO ONE POSTING ABOUT THIS‼️

f1fan2004 YEAH I AM WONDERING THE SAME THING

mercedesfan2005 ew

georgefan2003 this is atrocious. you break toto's heart and now you're prancing around with this washed guy? unbelievable.

ggstan is this toto wolff's burner?

franscisca.cgomes AHH CUTIES!

lewishamilton so refreshing to see you on my feed again. missed you! 🤍 (p.s. great song choice)

carlossainz55 such a beautiful couple! 😀

alex_albon okkkk facebook mom!

jallen96 love you both! go bills!

hailee.jpg ugh imy already sweet girl

goldengirl.jpg ugh imy more. maybe i'll come down one weekend for girls night

danielricciardo my beautiful girl, everyone

f1teaspill is this a confirmation? check your dms!

f1gossip pleeeeaaasseee check your dm!

f1teadaily we need the tea girl!

[twice-inamillion]

The Company 

The Last Piece

Smut 

Chapter 20

4250 Words 

(Jisoo, as the oldest in the group, decides to stand up against you. You on the other hand, had other things in mind.)

It’s been a few days since the four of them signed their contract. Jisoo would notice her younger members disappearing in the middle of the night and returning in the early hours of the morning. 

At first, she wondered what was going on and decided to stay awake and follow them. That night, she heard the main door lock and saw them walking down the hallway and into the elevator. 

She follows them to the hallway and sees the elevator's light going up to the top floor. Hours pass, and she sits on the living room couch, counting the time for when her members return. 

Suddenly, she hears the keypad turn on and runs back to her room, leaving the door slightly open. She watches as her members come inside, dragging their feet into their rooms. 

Jisoo exits her room and puts her ear against Rosé’s door, listening to her muffled cries. Then it hits her: she remembers the condition you gave them at their contract signing. 

She knocks on the door, “Are you okay?” There is no response. She gently knocks again, waiting for Rosé to answer. Again, no response. She slowly turns on the doorknob and walks into the dark room. 

She sees Rosé on her bed, her head pressed on the pillow. She slowly turns on the light switch, walks towards Rosé, and sees the aftermath. A streak of fluid ran down her inner thigh and onto her bed.  

“Rosie, let me help you.” 

“Unnie, I’m so tired. I want to go to sleep.”

“I know, but take a shower first; let me help you.” 

Jisoo tries her best to help Rosé get up and into the shower. She turns on the warm water and slowly undresses her younger member. Out of nowhere, she begins to notice white stains on Rosé’s back and stomach and minor bruises like finger marks around her waist. 

Jisoo showers her in complete silence, wondering if the other two are in the same condition. She turns the shower head and gently dries Rosé’s back and hair before dressing her in pajamas. 

“Thank you, unnie, for helping me shower.”

Jisoo wraps her arms around Rosé, embracing her in silence. No words are necessary; Rosé understands what Jisoo is trying to say. 

“Try to get some sleep. I’ll be here if you need me.” Rosé nods and quickly falls asleep within seconds. 

———

Jisoo closes Rosé’s door and returns to the living room when she hears Jennie talking to Lisa. She tries to get as close as possible to listen to the conversation from Jennie’s room when Lisa says, “I feel bad for Rosie. He’s been rough with her these past few days.”

”I know. I told her to avoid talking back to him, but she keeps upsetting him.”

”Let’s talk to him. Tell him to be nicer to her.”

”Okay, I’ll try to speak to him…”

——

A few hours have passed, and Jisoo lies on her bed. She knew that you were planning on hand sex with Rose, but not in this manner. Jisoo assumed it would be a one-time thing, but after noticing Rosé’s disappearance these past few days, it seemed excessive. 

Jisoo smacks her cheeks, “Alright, I decided. I’ll talk to him. If I tell him about Rosie's condition, he’ll stop.”

——

While the three girls slept, Jisoo made her way to your apartment. She nervously stands before your door, telling herself she must stand up for her younger members, and presses the doorbell. 

She waits a few seconds, but it feels like forever. She twiddles with her fingers, hoping everything turns out for the best. 

On the other side of the door, you see Jisoo standing in front of your door. You ask yourself, “What she’s doing here.” 

You open the door and say, “Good morning, Jisoo. Anything going on?”

 “Umm…” 

She avoids making eye contact with you. “Come inside.”

She nods and walks inside, standing a few feet from the door. “Come, come, have a seat.” Jisoo sits on the couch and remains quiet, “Did you want to say anything?”

“Umm… yeah.” 

“Okay.” 

“Umm… can you be nice to Rosie?” 

“What do you mean?”

“Umm…I know she’s been with you these past few days.” 

“Yeah… and?”

“Can you treat her nicely?”

“Why?”

“Today, I saw her, and she had small bruises on her waist. I’m worried for her.” 

“Don’t think that should concern you.” 

“But…”

You can tell her worry is genuine but decide to tease her, “If you’re that worried, how about taking her place?” 

Jisoo’s expression changes, surprised by your unexpected comment. “How about it? I wouldn’t mind spending time with you.”

Jisoo thinks deeply, considering the idea of taking Rosie’s place. Seeing her three members returning late, she knew her time would eventually come. As the oldest of the group, she felt some responsibility for being unable to protect them. 

After a deep breath, she responds, “Okay, I’ll do it. Just one thing…”

“What is it?” 

“Don’t bother the other two.”

“Hmm… I think you’re asking too much. What are you planning on giving in return?”

Jisoo is surprised by your question. She wasn’t expecting you to ask for anything else. Nervously, she asks, “What do you want?” 

“Everything.”

“What… what do you mean?”

“It’s a yes or a no.” 

Jisoo remains silent, contemplating if she’s making the right choice. 

“I guess that’s a no. Maybe I should punish them a little tonight.” 

Jisoo turns her head, her previous thoughts disappear, and out of instinct, she yells, “I’ll do everything you want.” 

You can’t contain your smile, “Good girl. I’ll back away from your group members.” Jisoo shows an expression of relief. “Since you’ll be taking their place, I should introduce you to someone and buy some things.” 

Without a second thought, she agreed and followed you down the elevator to the basement level. A car awaits, ready to take you to your destination. Jisoo asks, “Where are we going?”

“Shopping.”

Jisoo remains silent, watching through the window until the car enters a gated residence in an upscale neighborhood. The car stops, and your chauffeur opens the door. You’re both greeted by an older woman and her young assistant. She escorts you into the building and looks at Jisoo. You nod, and the assistant approaches Jisoo and says, “Come with me.”

Jisoo looks at you, asking for confirmation, and you only nod in approval. She follows the assistant. She’s taken to a private room where she’s asked to strip to get her measurements taken. 

A few minutes pass, and she comes out wearing matching underwear. You sit across from where she's fitted with different types of clothing. Jisoo wears multiple clothing styles, some better than others, and choose the ones that catch your eye. You turn to the older woman and say, “I like these. Wrap them up and send them to the usual place. Also, make her a couple of outfits like the rest.”

——

Again, the car ride is silent; Jisoo stares at the cityscape on the way back. She wonders why you went out of your way to buy her so many pieces of nice clothing.

She’s never seen so many beautiful dresses in her life. Most of her outfits were boyish, things that were her older brother and sister. Being the youngest of three children, her parents would tell her to be satisfied with what she got and not complain. 

This continued throughout her life, where her older siblings were the center of attention based on their looks and actions. Jisoo, on the other hand, was somewhat of a black sheep, neglected of attention, so any sort of attention was always welcomed. 

——

The two of you return to the building and walk toward the elevator. She follows and sees as you press the elevator and asks, “Where are we going? That’s the wrong floor.”

”I’m feeling hungry.”

The elevator door opens, and a waitress greets you across, “Good afternoon, sir; your reservation for two is ready.” 

“Thank you.” 

The waitress escorts you both to your seat and brings your refreshments. Multiple dishes are placed on the table within a few minutes, causing Jisoo’s expression to change slightly. 

“Eat.”

”Oh, okay.”

She takes a bite of the appetizer and says, “Oh my god, it’s so good.” She takes another and another before realizing your gaze is on her. “I’m sorry. It’s just that it’s delicious.”

”I’m glad you like it. The main course is good, too.” 

Without a second thought, her fork digs into the meal and takes a mouthful bite. Her eyes widened to the taste. “Good, right?” She nods, quickly taking another.

You both enjoy your meal and engage in small talk. After finishing, you head up to your condo and enter the door. You turn around and see Jisoo standing awkwardly in the hallway. 

“What are you doing?” She shyly walks towards you, waiting for you to say something. 

“You see that room over there?” Take a shower and meet me when you’re done.”

Jisoo nods and slowly walks to the room. Inside, she sees a nicely furnished room, much bigger than the one she is in. She walks to the shower, undresses, and turns on warm water. 

She turns off the water and wraps herself in the towel before exiting the shower. As she opens the door, she sees two boxes on the bed. On top is a note which says, “Wear it and come out to the living room.” Curious, Jisoo opens the first box, which is one of the short dresses she wore earlier today. She goes for the second box and opens it, revealing a set of matching provocative underwear. 

“He wants me to wear this?”

She’s hesitant but knows that you’ll keep your promise if she does it. So she takes a deep breath, drops her towel, and changes into the outfit. 

After taking a shower and eagerly waiting for your gift to come out. You’ve read Jisoo’s file and memorized what buttons to push. The issues she’s had with her family, especially being overshadowed by her older siblings. This is why you treated her differently, knowing she has nothing to lose but much to gain from this relationship. So, giving her some attention and buying some nice things will hopefully earn her trust. 

Just as you think of other ways to make her trust, you see her exit the bedroom. Jisoo slowly walks towards you, her hands covering her short dress. You can see her expression of nervousness as she makes her way to you. 

“You look beautiful.” 

Just saying that changes her expression. You extend your hand, hoping the little compliment gives her the push she needs. Just like how you were expected, she grabs your hand. You tell her, “Come, sit,” pointing towards your thigh. You lead her towards you, and Jisoo sits on your lap. 

Again, you comment on how pretty she looks, noticing that she’s avoiding your gaze and looking down. “Jisoo, look at me.” She slowly moves her gaze; you gently cup her chin and say, “Jisoo, I want to see you. You look really beautiful.”

Jisoo shyly responds, “Really? I do?” 

”Of course you do.”

”You’re just saying that.”

”No, you are. Look into my eyes and tell me if I’m lying.”

She turns her head and looks at you. You both meet each other’s eyes, staring at each other for a moment. “Do you think I’m lying?”

There’s a slight pause, “N… no. Do you really think I’m pretty?”

You pull her in for a kiss, pressing your lips against hers. You slowly slide your hand against her thick thighs and rub her panties. Her eyes widened to your sudden approach. She doesn’t know how to reach but doesn’t fight it. 

You see this as the green light and continue to rub the thin cloth as the both of you continue to make out. She trembles slightly as she begins to get wet from your touch and ask, “You believe me now, right?”

”Ye…yes.”

You notice her off-beat breathing and decide to ask if she wants to continue. If she replies the way you want, you got her. You pull her in for another kiss, and this time, she doesn’t pull away but instead welcomes it. The two of you play with your tongues, intertwining with each other. As you come for a breath, you say, “I want to make you feel good. Can I?”

”Yes…”

You slide your hand inside her panties, slowly tracing your hand against her bare skin. She tries to hold onto her moans as she feels it’s too embarrassing. Instead, you tease her and ask, “Does that feel good?”

”Yeah…”

”Tell me, do you like it when it touches your pussy?”

Jisoo immediately gets embarrassed; she doesn’t know how to react. She does like the feeling, but answering that question is too much for her. ”I guess you don’t,” and slowly pull your hand away. 

Suddenly, she grabs your wrist and whispers, “I like it.”

”Ohh… I don’t know what you mean. You need to be specific.”

”My… my pussy. I like it when you touch it,” says Jisoo and puts her face on your shoulder. 

You got her. Your hand moves back, and you start to rub her folds. You love when you make a girl’s pussy wet from just your touch. The way they react as you increase the pace or the pressure of your fingers against their cunt is amazing. 

Jisoo forgets about her embarrassment and begins to moan. You can hear her beg for more, “faster… rub my pussy faster please…”

You increase the pace of your fingers, rubbing her folds quickly to the point that you can feel her orgasm coming.” 

“Ahh, ahh… I’m going to pee!”

You lift her and pull her towards you. You watch as she puts her hand over her mouth to prevent her from screaming. “It’s okay, Jisoo, let it all out. Don’t fight it.” 

“I… I can’t hold it in!” She throws her back, trembling as she cums. Jisoo squirts all over your thighs and your shorts, completely drenching them. ‘Fuck Jisoo, you’re cumming so much.” 

Jisoo tries to tighten her legs together, but it's no use. She moans in pleasure as she relieves herself. Once she's finished, she falls onto your chest and breathes heavily. 

You pat her head gently, “There, there… you did a good job,” and kiss her head. She rubs her face against your shoulder, taking a nice whiff of your scent. You can see the difference from before and know she's more relaxed. 

After giving her time to relax, you whisper, “Now, can it be my turn to feel good?”

Jisoo doesn’t hesitate and says, “What do you want?”

”Everything. I want all of you.”

She knew she would eventually hear those words, but this time it was different. Jisoo, in a soft voice, says, “I’m yours.” 

That’s your cue; you pick her up, walk to your room, and place her on the bed. You undo the button of your pants, revealing your semi-hard cock. Jisoo is in awe as it's her first time seeing a cock. You take off your shirt, toss it to the ground, walk towards the large one-seater couch, and call Jisoo over. 

Jisoo stands in front of you and asks, “Is this your first time seeing a cock?” She nods, “Yes, I’ve never seen one before, not even porn.”  

“Want to grab it?” 

Jisoo hesitantly grabs your cock, not knowing what to do with it. She squeezes it and jerks it weirdly, “Sorry, I don’t know what to do.”

”It’s okay. Just do what I say.”

”Okay.”

”Get on your knees and use one hand and wrap it around my cock, then gently stroke it until it gets hard. As it gets hard, you’ll see the head pop out from the foreskin. When it’s completely hard, I want you to kiss it.”

”Okay.” 

Jisoo gets on her knees and is about to grab your cock when she hears a shutter button. She stops, looks directly into the camera before grabbing your cock. You say, “Good girl,” as she slowly strokes your cock. She smiles at the compliment, sees your mushroom head pop out from your foreskin, and gives it a small kiss. 

“That’s it, baby, give daddy’s cock another kiss.” 

Jisoo’s ears perk at the sudden comment, and says, “Yes, daddy.” Her ears turn red from embarrassment, but she ignores it and gives your cock another kiss. 

“Yes, baby. Now take it into your mouth and lick the head.” 

She does as she’s told and continues to service you until it’s completely covered in her salvia. “Did you like how I used my mouth?”

”Yes, I think I want to use your other mouth too. Come here and sit on my lap.” 

The two of you continue to make out, you undoing her bra and fondling her breast. She moans to your touch as you work your way down until you reach her cunt. “Want to feel good again?”

”Yes, please.”

”Then I’m going to make you feel much better with this,” you say as you place her hand on your cock. “How about it?”

”Make me feel good...” 

You wrap your hands around her waist and put her into a cowgirl position. She feels your cock resting against her stomach. “Fuck, I can’t wait to feel you with my cock.” 

The feeling is real; she’s going to have sex for the first time. Jisoo’s heart begins to race as she realizes how big your cock is compared to her petite frame. 

“Ready?” 

Jisoo nods, still nervous but happy to feel wanted even though the situation isn’t perfect. 

“Jisoo, you’re so beautiful. I can’t wait to make you mine.”

”Make me yours then.”

You grab your cock and trace the tip of your cock against her folds. “I’m going to lift you a little, okay?”

”Okay.”

Your cock teases her as you use her nectar to lube up your cock. With the head completely covered, you slowly press it against her small entrance, “That’s it, just like that.”

Jisoo slowly begins to feel the slight pressure of her untouched walls getting spread open by your cock. “Ahh, slowly… it feels weird.” She puts her hand on your thigh as support, “Ahh… it stings… wait…” 

“Sorry, I’m selfish, I want you now.” You don’t wait any longer as you grab her waist and pull her towards you, penetrating her entrance in one go.

”Ahh, it hurts! You’re going to break me!”

You wrap your arms around her neck and bring her towards your chest. “Shh… it’s okay, you’re okay. It’s just going to hurt for a little bit. You’re going to feel much better. You’re doing a good job, baby.” 

It’s a sharp type of pain, but also hot as her body is going haywire to the foreign object inside her womb. Tears follow from her face, but she tries not to cry from the pain. She listens to your voice and focuses on your words, “Am I doing a good job?”

”Yes, of course. I’m going to move a little, so just bear with it for me, okay?”

”Okay.”

You slowly begin to move, your cock rubbing against her tight walls. “You’re so tight, Jisoo. You feel so good.” 

Little by little, you start to increase your pace, and as time passes, the pain becomes bearable. “How does it feel? Does it still hurt?”

“Not much, it’s just hot.”

”I’m going to increase the pace a bit.” 

She presses her face against your chest, managing her breathing as you fuck her cunt. It doesn’t take long for her to get adjusted and digs her butt deeper into your thighs. 

“Ahh… Daddy, it doesn’t hurt anymore.” 

“Then it’s your turn to take over. Ride my cock.”

Like a good girl, she slowly grinds her hips, taking the lead for the first time. You watch as her expression changes, knowing that the more time she spends with you, the better you’re going to be able to use her. 

You see Jisoo lose herself as she starts to enjoy your massive cock inside her. She enjoys seeing your reaction, how you compliment her on her body, and how you describe your enjoyment. She loves your attention and the way you look at her. She’s never gotten that from anyone, not even her own family. 

“Ahh, do you like me? Are you enjoying my body?” 

You grunt, “Fuck yes, I love how tight you are. How you grind that body against my cock.” 

“That’s good to hear. What else?”

“I’m going to breed you so bad.” 

Confused, she asks, “What does that mean?”

You smirk and pick up; you increase the pace of your thrusting, violently hitting her womb with your cock. You feel your balls heavy, filled with thick cum. “This is what it means,” you say as you explode in her untainted womb. 

“Oh my god, what’s this? It’s so hot? What are you doing?”

“I’m marking you; from now on, your body belongs to me. I suggest you get used to getting filled with my baby batter.”

“Baby batter?”

“That’s what I’m pumping into you. Hope you get used to the taste because there’s more where that came from.”

Jisoo looks down and sees your cum oozing out the small crevasses between her cunt and your cock. She puts her hand against her stomach, squeezing it, “So much.”

You walk towards the bed and place her on her back. Jisoo watches as you slowly pull your cock out. It springs out, flicking a bit of cum on her chest. She feels your hot liquid oozing out of her and asks, “There’s no going back, huh.”

”Nope…”

The sudden realization hits: she’ll eventually end up getting pregnant, and there’s nothing she can do. She looks at you, your hungry expression. 

“Turn over and stick your ass up.” 

Jisoo does as she's told and gets on all fours. You spread her legs and align your cock, “ Now take my cock like a good girl.” 

With your weight against her frame, her face hits the pillow. She feels your cock penetrating her womb. You begin to fuck her roughly, making her feel every thrust. “Ahh, ahh, you’re so rough.”

 You whisper in her ear,” You like it though.” 

“I… I don’t…”

”That’s not what your body is saying. Go and take a look.” 

Jisoo slowly tries to lift her head and sees the mirror in front of her. She sees her lustful expression, someone who’s been corrupted. 

You grab her chin and say, “I knew it. Now tell me, like getting fuck by this cock.”

”I…I like getting fucked by your cock.”

”That’s right. What else?”

“I… I want you to cum in me. Claim my pussy as yours.”

”That bad, huh.” You smirk and say, “You know what’s going to happen if I do.” 

“I don’t care. Do it.”

You get back up and slap her ass. You continue to fuck her roughly until your own orgasm approaches. With your hands around her waist, you scream, “Fuck Jisoo, fuck. I’m going to explore, fuck. Take all my cum and get pregnant!” as your cum floods her womb. 

She can tell that you’re not lying. You’re really trying to breed her. She coughs violently from the constant pumping of your cum, “Fuck, you’re going to break me for real,” she yells and passes out. 

You continue to fuck her throughout the night. Her body becomes your personal use. By the time you’re done, she's a complete mess. Her body was covered in your cum, and her cunt completely stretched. 

You get up, take a shot of your work, and say, “That’s four out of four.”

———

Rosé wakes up from her nap and slowly walks to visit Jisoo. She drags her feet and knocks on the door, but no one is there, “Unnie?”

She looks at her phone and sees a message, “I’ll be back tomorrow. Something came up, and I'm going to visit my parents for the night.” 

Rosé sends a text, wishing her good night, and hits send. Suddenly, she sees the message “Read,” and the three dots appear. 

A few minutes pass, and no message. She asks herself, “Is unnie okay?” She sends another message, “What are you doing? Arguing with your siblings again, haha.”

She sees a message pop up that says, “No. Just having fun.”

“Oh, what are you doing?”

”Guess.”

”Eating.” 

“Some of that, getting my fill, that’s for sure.”

Rosé notices the way Jisoo’s messaging is not like her. She’s worried, she texts, “Where’s Jisoo? Who’s this?”

She sees the three dots again and is waiting in anticipation, “…”

Rosé can’t wait any longer; she calls Jisoo's phone but gets no answer until the last ring. “Who’s this?”

”You know who.”

Her heart drops at the sound of your voice. Her hands shake, and her memories return from the past few nights. She tries to muster up courage and says, “What are you doing to her?”

”She said she wanted to take your place. She was worried about you and decided to take your spot, so enjoy some time off because I’ll be playing with my new toy.”

[velvetvexations]

I'd like to add something to the topic of forced impregnation / corrective rape of transmascs & men.

One thing I feel like other people tend to believe is that trans people with uteruses / the capability to get pregnant are "extremising" a problem that really only affects a few select trans people, surely not a lot.

What they don't get is that we're not extremising anything. Even just on the topic of forced pregnancy, I know barely a single trans man who hasn't been told that getting pregnant would fix him or that his whole worth as a person with a uterus is measured in how many children he can pop out at best, or being straigh up threatened with it or at worst having someone actually attempt to or fully act on that threat. And the ones who it didn't happen to? They know full well that it's always a "it didn't happen yet". That threat is still there, even without anyone saying it. People don't have to outright say it or threaten us because we just know.

It's not something we made up as a "gotcha" to trans women. In fact, it has nothing to do with most trans women at all, safe for the ones who can get pregnant! It's our lived experience. Our every-day life.

I was thirteen, just started my period, when my mother started to try to convince me that my whole worth as a person was making babies, that I needed to make kids the second I'd turn eighteen, that I would otherwise waste my life. And no, she didn't actually think that of all women. My cis sister? Never got to hear any of that. Just me. Because my mother looked at me being masculine and saw something she needed to fix (by only buying me extremely sexualised feminine outfits and telling me the stuff mentioned above, and that it was "only that" makes me one of the lucky ones). It happened to me not just because I was born with a uterus, because then it would've happened to my sister, too. It happened because my mother could tell something was "wrong" with me because I was too masculine. Got a little too exited when people mistook me for my brother. She didn't know what transmasculinity was back then in name, but she absolutely did know that it was "wrong" and needed to be "fixed" - and the way to fix a "broken woman" is to get her pregnant. She, of course, couldn't do that back then, but she could do her best to try to make me do that once I was "old enough" (I'm very glad today that she failed.)

And basically every trans men I've talked with about that topic had their own story like that or much, much worse. Only very rarely has a transmasc/man not experienced something like that, and even then, the threat is so omnipresent that even they tend to know exactly what I'm talking about.

It's a horrifying truth, it's uncomfortable, but it needs to be talked about. Our pain has been ignored and swept under the rug for so long, and people are still continuing to do so. So they can keep telling themselves that we "don't have it that bad" that we're "making a deal out of nothing" that what happens to us is just "individual cases" not something targeted. Because if people don't listen, they don't have to admit to themselves how they're playing into our oppression. Because to this day my mother is still claiming that she supports the trans community, after she did everything in her power to stop her son from existing. She won't listen to what I have to say because it "wasn't that bad", and my sister turned out great, so what do I have to cry about?

Nobody listens to trans men in general because it's never "as bad" as we make it out to be. After all, a cis woman said it wasn't that bad and she'll always be more believable than what ever a trans man or transmasculine person has to say. A trans man could obviously never experience anything a cis woman in his situation wouldn't.

This got longer than I anticipated. Thank you for listening and talking about this topic. I appreciate you, your work here is incredibly important and I'm glad you do this. Take care, and have a nice day!

(Also, this whole assumption about us "extremising" and "making a big thing out of nothing" also sounds a bit like hysteria talk to me, especially given that our conversation is about uterus-related things, but I might be reading to much into it here.)

the issue is that TRFs will take all this as "so you're saying that means trans men have it worse than trans women?"

like noooooooo you invented that sentence! that was nowhere in the original text girliepop!

[asterafroditis]

𐔌 . ⋮ be my valentine? ♡ .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆First Years x gn! reader

𓏵 729 words

ᝰ.ᐟ headcannons, no pronouns used, fluff, a bit ooc(?)

Second Years and Third Years coming up next! feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

I think Ace would pretend he doesn’t care about Valentine’s Day, but he actually thinks about it way more than he lets on. He’s the type to act like he totally forgot, just to see your reaction, only to pull out a small but thoughtful gift at the last second.

Ace likes to tease and play it cool, but deep down, he actually gets a little nervous. He doesn’t want to make it too obvious how much he cares, but if you show genuine happiness over his gift, he’ll get all smug about it—though his ears might turn a little red.

"Hah? You really thought I forgot? Please, I always come through! Here, take it. It’s not a big deal or anything, just a little something I threw together... H-Hey! Don’t look at me like that! Ugh, you’re making me blush or something!"

─────────────────────────

I think Deuce would take Valentine’s Day way too seriously. He’d spend weeks planning, overthinking every detail because he wants to impress you. He probably buys a classic box of chocolates but then panics because he feels like it’s not enough. So, he adds more—a handwritten note, maybe even a little charm or trinket he thought you’d like.

Deuce likes to be upfront, but when it comes to romance, he gets so flustered. He stumbles over his words, gets embarrassed over small things, and is a total mess when handing you the gift. If you thank him sincerely, he might turn bright red and awkwardly try to downplay it.

"U-Uh! Here! I mean—um—I got you something! Wait, I’m saying this all wrong—ahem—I just thought, y’know, since today’s special, I should get you something nice. Uh. Do you… like it?"

─────────────────────────

I think Jack would pretend he doesn’t care about Valentine’s Day, but he totally does. He doesn’t like all the flashy, romantic gestures, but he does want to do something special for you. His way of showing affection would be through actions—like carrying your things, helping you with a task, or offering you a snack from the cafeteria.

Jack likes to act tough, but when it comes to romance, he’s a total tsundere. He’ll say it’s not a big deal, but his tail betrays him by wagging slightly when you accept his gift. If you call him out on it, he’ll get so flustered and grumble about how you’re "imagining things."

“Here. It’s from my hometown. Don’t think too much about it—I just figured you’d like it. …What? Why are you looking at me like that? I’m not blushing. You’re imagining things. Seriously, quit laughing.”

─────────────────────────

I think Epel would want to be smooth and romantic, but he struggles to pull it off. He tries to write a love letter? Ends up crumpling it up because it sounds too cheesy. He thinks about giving you roses? Freaks out because it feels too formal. In the end, he sticks to what he knows and gives you something handmade—like an apple-based treat from his hometown.

Epel likes to play it cool, but if you compliment his gift, his accent slips out, and he turns into a flustered mess. He wants to be the cool and mysterious type, but deep down, he’s just a sweet farm boy who cares about you a lot.

"Here. I made this myself. And before ya start teasin’ me, I was not thinkin’ too hard about it! …D’aww, quit smilin’ at me like that! Yer makin’ me feel all soft ‘n stuff."

─────────────────────────

I think Sebek would treat Valentine’s Day like a sacred ritual. He’d act like he’s doing you a great honor by acknowledging this "human tradition," but truthfully? He spent hours making sure his confession was perfect. He’d go way too formal with it, talking like he’s making a grand proclamation, only to panic if you tease him even slightly.

Sebek likes to be loud and dramatic, but when he’s truly flustered, he does not know how to handle it. If you thank him sweetly or call him cute, expect him to go completely red and start sputtering about how he is "a knight of unwavering resolve" (while avoiding eye contact).

"Human! You should consider yourself fortunate to receive my affections on this day of sentimentality! I—WAIT, STOP SMILING LIKE THAT! I AM BEING COMPLETELY SERIOUS! H-Hey! D-Do not pat my head!! I am not blushing!!"

[bet-on-me-13]

Danny is Bruce and Clark's Civilian friend

So! Danny met Bruce and Clark at a Charity Gala promoting his Clean Energy and Technology Company.

It was just something He, Tucker, and Sam had started up after High School to try and do some good in the world, but grew faster than they realized, until they were a rising star in the Green Energy and Technology Business. Really they should have expected it, with Sam's drive for environmental protection and Tucker's love of technology, it was a given that they would push the company farther than anticipated. Danny was mostly just the front-man (aside from helping out Tucker in the Lab sometimes).

The Gala was set up by Sam to raise money for environmental preservation efforts, and Danny was there as a formality since he was the Face of the Business and technically the CEO.

Danny had struck up a conversation with Bruce, having been introduced by Sam, and they were eventually approached by Clark for an interview. He wanted to get their thoughts on the recently proposed Meta Protection Acts, and after the interview Danny decided to give Clark his contact to see if he wanted to do a follow-up. Bruce did the same, and they agreed to talk in the future.

Danny hadn't expected that to be the start of a new friendship.

Bruce and Clark seemed to click instantly with him, and while it took longer they also seemed to warm up to eachother as well. It got to the point where they were talking outside of Galas or Interviews and just called to check up on eachother. It was nice, having friends outside of Tucker and Sam for once.

Oh and also they were totally Dating.

Yeah, it was kind of obvious in hindsight that his two friends had a thing for eachother. Bruce and Clark would always share these looks with eachother before leaving the room, or Clark would check his phone for a message from whenever Bruce texted someone. They seemed to be hanging out without him as well, since they sometimes slipped up and referenced events they experienced together that he wasn't there for.

Of course Clark was publicly dating Lois Lane from his workplace, but listening his coworkers gossip long enough told him what was really going on. Lois and Clark were fake-dating so that Lois could secretly date Superman without being targeted by his enemies as much, and Clark could date a secret partner that none of his coworkers could figure out.

So when he was talking to Clark one day and the man got a text message and suddenly had a bad stomach ache, Danny decided that he should probably let him know that he knew.

"Oh don't worry Clark, I know what's going on. No need to keep up appearance with me around." He said.

"O-oh? Uh, what are you talking about Danny?" Clark asked surprised.

Danny shrugged, "It was pretty obvious in hindsight. The sneaking off, the text messages that got you to leave in a hurry, the secret glances between you and Bruce. After a while it was hard to ignore."

Clark cringed a little, "I just have a nervous stomach, and I have to rush off for work pretty often. That's all Danny."

Danny leveled a glance at him, "So does Bruce also have an upset stomach that just so happens to match up to yours? And why is Bruce following you to your Job? What, is he trying to get a job at the Daily Planet that he owns?"

"O-oh, well- I mean- That doesn't necessarily mean that I'm-" Clark stuttered.

"Calm down man, I'm not going to say anything." Danny reassured him. "It's your business, and nobody has any right to know your personal business unless you tell them. I just figured it out on my own, but I'm not gonna go shouting from the rooftops that Clark Kent is-"

"That's enough Danny, no need to demonstrate, but...thank you." Clark cut him off, "So far only Lois and Jimmy have figured me out on their own, and it's nice to finally have somebody else to talk to about this."

Danny shrugged and patted him on the shoulder, "No problem Clark, if you ever need to talk to me about it I'm all ears."

[hees-mine]

My neighbor- L. Heeseung

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader!

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, cum eating, cursing, dirty talk, alcohol, oral, age gap and the gap is gapping so if that makes you uncomfortable please do not read.

WC: 4,247k

-

You sighed for the thousand time while you sat on the couch watching whatever boring show that was on the tv.

You much rather be out having fun, partying, and enjoying yourself, maybe even getting fucked.

But no.

Instead, you’ve sat two cushions away from your neighbor while he “kept an eye on you.”

It was ridiculous you were old enough not to need someone checking in on you, but your parents insisted that it’d make them comfortable knowing a trusted adult was watching over you while they went on a romantic getaway.

You looked over at him with a glare while he laughed at something on the screen that you weren’t paying attention to. You eyed him from head to toe, and there was a look of disgust on your face. If it wasn’t for him, you could be out having the time of your life, but you calmed yourself down, reminding yourself it wasn’t heeseung’s fault. After all, he was a good friend of your parents. After moving into the lot next to yours a few years ago, he hit it off with your parents right away and soon became a staple in your household, coming over on weekends for dinner and family game night.

He was nice, and you enjoyed his company, don’t get it wrong, but right now, you didn’t, especially when you tried to sneak up to your room with hopes that he wouldn’t notice. Maybe you could escape out your window and enjoy your night after all, but alas. “Ah ah ah, sit down, missy.”

You sighed again, plopping down on the couch after he caught you.

A smile tugged at heeseung’s lips. He’s a bit too old to be fooled by your tricks. He’d been in your shoes before, so there was no way anything you did would get by him tonight.

“Come on, don’t be like that. It’s only one week,” he says as if that wasn’t like a thousand days to a teenager. “Are you hungry? I’m not much of a cook, but I could make some tomato soup, or we could order out whatever sounds good to you.”

You appreciate his offer, you really do, and you should happily accept, seeing how he’s taking time out of his week to make sure you’re safe fed and taken care of, but that itch of defiance and frustration overpower you, and you find yourself declining.

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.” You slouch down in your seat, folding your arms over your chest and getting a pouty look on your face.

Such a crybaby, heeseung thinks, but doesn’t say it out loud, knowing you’d hate it if he called you that.

“Well, I’m starving, so I’m gonna order a pizza,” he announced and pulled out his phone, ordering everything he liked.

It only takes twenty minutes for it to arrive again. You attempted to run off, but sadly, the transaction between heeseung and the pizza delivery guy was too short for you to make your great escape.

You don’t know how long it’s been now, but long enough to get you even more agitated because you could be at the party you were invited to. It’s been started for an hour or more, but instead, here you are, stuck with your neighbor while he sits across from you, dining on his pizza like it’s a delicacy.

“Can I please go out, heeseung? I promise I won’t tell if you let me,” You give in, pleading with him to let you go out.

“No can do it. It’s my duty to make sure you stay here. Besides, your parents trust me, and I wouldn’t want to break it,” he says strictly.

You throw your head back exaggeratedly, and he can’t help but laugh, making your head snap back to look at him with eyes that could kill.

“What’s so great out there anyway?” he asks, taking a sip from his pop.

“Music friends drinks,” you list out all the things you’re missing out on. “Dick,” you mutter, but he hears you anyway, nearly spitting out his drink.

“You drink?!” He asks wide-eyed because you’re underage, and that’s why he’s so shocked.

“Duh, get with the times, old man.” You roll your eyes at him.

“I’ll have you know I’m only thirty-eight,” he replied, unamused by you.

“Yeah, old.”

“I’m gonna ignore that comment since you’re an emotional teenager figuring yourself out.” This time, you look at him unamused by what he said. “What? Fair play.” he shrugged, both of you, knowing there was no real harm meant by your exchange. “Anyway, I’m still not understanding your problem because everything you want is right here,” he says nonchalantly.

You looked at him weirdly, wondering what he meant by that.

Noticing your confusion, he elaborated.

“There’s booze in the cabinet. I can play some music. We’re friends, I think? And well,” he sets his food aside, spreading his legs on the sofa and facing you. “I have a dick,” he says casually.

He couldn’t help the slight smile that graced his features by your shocked reaction. He didn’t know why you were so surprised. He supposed his idea was a bit outlandish, but it kills two birds with one stone. He’ll know for a fact. You’re safe, and you can have your little party at home with him.

“Heeseung, stop joking.” Laughing nervously, your eyes shifted away from him, unable to comprehend what he said. You understood it perfectly fine, but you couldn’t quite grasp that he was actually being serious.

“I’m not. besides, this solves our problem. I know that you’re safe with me, and you can get everything you want.”

Okay, as good as that sounded, you have to decline. That would be stepping over boundaries you could never uncross.

Besides, it's heeseung you couldn’t. He was too near and dear to your parents. You couldn’t risk it and muddy up their relationship by fucking your neighbor. You don’t know how they’d feel if they ever found out something like that. “Heeseung, we shouldn’t my parents trust you.”

“Oh, so now you understand my point of view,” he laughs. “But it’s alright.” he places his hand on your thigh, scooting closer to you. “I’m sure you can keep a secret, isn’t that right, little alcoholic?” he teases you about your drinking habits, giving your thigh a light pinch.

“Stop it,” you giggled, pushing at his shoulder playfully.

“It’s up to you, Angel.” You nearly lose it at the nickname, his voice going straight to your core.

Since when were you attracted to your neighbor?

“What if I say yes?” You ask, your hand placed on his chest and trailing down to his stomach.

“Then I’ll make sure you don’t regret it.” he leans in his hot breath, fanning your face. “So what’s it gonna be?”

“Yes,” you whisper, lips brushing across his from the proximity.

-

Read full story on my Patreon

[cressidagrey]

The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince - Chapter 7

Pairing: Lando Norris x Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton (Original Character)

Summary:

Elizabeth Treshton—bestselling romantasy author, queen of fae heartbreak, and sworn devotee of a carefully structured routine—never expected her service dog to abandon protocol and diagnose a Formula 1 driver with something. But that’s exactly what happens when Mara the wonder-dog ditches Lizzie’s side to aggressively alert to none other than Lando Norris in the middle of a coffee shop.

Warnings and Notes: 

Mention of epilepsy, seizures, memory loss, hospitals, vomiting, blood and service animals. I don't myself suffer from epilepsy, so I asked my IRL friend, who thankfully was nice enough to let me ask her all the questions I could come up with. The rest I asked Reddit. So everything that's wrong...that's totally my fault and not on purpose.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Lizzie opened her eyes slowly, the world around her blurry and out of focus. She knew immediately she was in her hospital room, the smell of antiseptic and the dimmed lights a familiar, unwelcome presence.

She groaned softly, the small sound echoing faintly in the stillness of the room. Her throat felt like sandpaper, her mouth dry and aching. She tried to swallow, but her tongue felt too thick, sticking to the roof of her mouth.

“Welcome back,” Tasha said softly, and she turned her head to see her best friend.

"Tasha?" Lizzie croaked out, the simple word sounding like it was torn from her raw throat.

Tasha moved closer, her familiar face coming into focus. "Yeah, it’s me," she said with a quiet smile. "How are you feeling?"

Lizzie's forehead creased in a frown as she tried to take stock of her own body. "Everything hurts," she managed to say, her voice ragged.

Tasha reached out, her hand gentle as she tucked a strand of hair out of Lizzie's face. "I’d be surprised if it didn’t. You gave us quite a scare."

Tasha's eyes were filled with a mixture of affection and worry, something Lizzie was very familiar with.

Lizzie felt a twinge of guilt as she noticed the dark circles under Tasha's eyes, evidence that she'd probably spent the night here, watching over her once again.

“How bad?” She brought out weakly.

Tasha's face pulled into a frown, her usual carefree expression replaced by concern. "Bad," she said simply, not bothering to soften the blow.

Lizzie's eyes closed at the word, a wave of dread washing over her. She knew Tasha wasn't the kind to sugarcoat things, but still, hearing it confirmed was like a punch to the gut.

“You ripped out your IV line too by the way… your elbow is pretty ripped up…and you got stitches in your tongue.”

Lizzie let out a shuddering sigh, hearing the list of her injuries laid out in front of her.

“How many?” She asked weakly.

“Seizures? At least 6. But you were seizing when I found you and Mara was starting to get worried so we don’t know exactly.” Tasha said quietly. “Can you remember…anything?”

Lizzie’s brow furrowed as she tried to access her memories, but they were muddled and hazy. “Not much,” she admitted, her voice soft. “Just…flashes. And pain.”

Tasha nodded, her expression sympathetic. “That’s probably for the best, honestly. It wasn’t pretty.”

But there was something else…something important… “Who won Miami?” She croaked out.

Tasha laughed. “Your boyfriend did.”

Wait what?

Lizzie's eyes widened at Tasha's words. "Boyfriend?" she croaked out, her voice slightly higher than normal.

Tasha smirked, clearly amused by the mix of confusion and surprise on Lizzie's face. "Yep. Lando. Your boyfriend. He won Miami."

Lizzie's mind was reeling. Lando? Her boyfriend? She thought she must've been hallucinating. "He's not my boyfriend," she protested weakly.

Tasha raised an eyebrow, her face the portrait of skepticism. "Oh really? You want to tell me that the same bloke that flew around the globe the moment he heard that you were in the hospital after he finally won a Formula 1 Grand Prix isn't your boyfriend? The same guy that hasn't left you since you arrived? That keeps holding your hand?"

Tasha stared pointedly to the other side of her bed and Lizzie turned her head.

"It's all too much for little Lando Norris," Tasha chortled with some amusement.

Lando was there. deep asleep in a chair that Lizzie just knew was horribly uncomfortable.

Lizzie felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of him.

He looked exhausted. His hair was rumpled, his clothes slightly askew. There were bags under his eyes, and his mouth was open slightly as he snored softly, his head tilted back against the wall in a position that was bound to be painful.

It looked like he'd been there for a long time. Like he hadn't left her side at all.

Tasha chuckled softly. "Looks a bit cute when he sleeps," she commented, still amused. "Like a big ol’ puppy. Kinda like Mara. The only thing lacking is the twitching paws.”

Lizzie was still staring at Lando, feeling a strange mixture of emotions. She had so many questions. But right now, all she could focus on was the fact that he was here, fast asleep, keeping her company.

"Why..." Lizzie finally managed to get out, her voice hoarse. "Why is he..?"

Tasha's expression softened. "Because, love," she said gently. "That boy cares about you. A lot."

Lizzie swallowed thickly, her heart pounding in her chest. She was overwhelmed by the realisation. Lando cared for her. He cared enough to hop on a plane and fly halfway around the globe as soon as he found out she was hurt. And now, he was here. Fast asleep in a hospital chair, just so he could be near her.

Tasha patted her hand, clearly enjoying her inner turmoil. "Don’t look so shocked," she teased. "It’s not like it isn’t obvious.”

"Shut up," Lizzie grumbled weakly, still staring at Lando’s sleeping form.

"Though we are going to have a talk about the fact that you are dating a bloody F1 driver and haven't said a single word to me," Tasha told her with a snort. "A McLaren driver. Really?"

Lizzie rolled her eyes. "It's not like I planned it," she defended herself weakly. "It just happened."

Tasha shook her head, amused. "It just happened," she repeated drily. "With an F1 driver. I can’t believe you."

Lizzie huffed, turning her head to glare at her sister. But the effect was ruined by her exhaustion and the fact that she was propped up by a dozen pillows.

Tasha chuckled at her attempts to be intimidating, clearly not feeling threatened. "Relax, sweetie," she said. "I’m happy for you. But I am going to make fun of you for this."

Lizzie sighed, leaning her head back against her pillow. "You’re insufferable, you know that?"

Tasha grinned, her eyes sparkling. "Yeah, but you love me anyway."

"Besides, I am gonna go home now, and leave you with your boy," Tasha sing-songed. "You should thank me."

Lizzie groaned, letting her head drop back on her pillow. "Don’t leave,” she protested weakly.

Tasha just laughed, clearly enjoying her distress. "Don’t be such a baby. You’ve got your boyfriend to keep you company.”

"He’s asleep," Lizzie protested weakly, watching Lando’s sleeping form.

Tasha shrugged, undeterred. "So? Wake him up."

"I’m not going to wake him up." Lizzie grumbled, still eyeing Lando’s sleeping form. He looked adorable when his face was all relaxed.

Tasha smirked. "That’s because you enjoy watching him sleep," she teased. "Admit it."

Lizzie felt her face flush at her sister’s words, and she shot her a disapproving look. "I do not," she said stubbornly.

Tasha was clearly enjoying herself, her smirk growing wider. "Oh really? Then why are you blushing, hmm?"

Lizzie could feel her cheeks growing hotter, and she tried to hide her face, but the blasted hospital gown only exposed more of her already flushed face. "I’m not blushing. It's the drugs."

Tasha let out a hoot of laughter, clearly not buying her excuse. "Nice try. You're totally blushing and we both know why."

Lizzie grumbled, still staring at Lando's sleeping form. He was blissfully oblivious to their bickering, his snores still filling the room.

Tasha just smirked. "You know, it's kind of cute how you're watching him like a hawk," she teased.

Lizzie huffed, trying to ignore her sister's amusement. "I'm not watching him. I'm just... making sure he's comfortable."

"Sure, sure," Tasha said with a knowing smirk. "Because everyone knows the best way to make sure someone's comfortable is to stare at them like they're a cute puppy."

Lizzie shot her sister a withering look, but Tasha just chuckled. "Relax, Lizzie Lou. I’m just teasing you. I think it’s adorable."

Lizzie rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide the hint of a smile that was creeping onto her face.

Tasha smirked, noticing the change in her expression. "Aww, look at that. You’re not denying you think he’s cute."

Lizzie huffed, trying to salvage some pride. "I... I’m not saying he isn’t cute," she mumbled.

"Oho, so you do think he’s cute," Tasha teased, the smirk still plastered on her face.

Lizzie groaned, her face flushing again. "Shut up."

Tasha just laughed, clearly enjoying her sister's embarrassment. "Don’t worry. It’s cute. You're acting like a little school girl with a crush."

"Go away," she told Tasha.

Tasha just chuckled and ruffled Lizzie's hair affectionately. "Alright, alright. I’ll leave you to your staring. But I’m not done teasing you about this."

Lizzie groaned, burying her face in her pillow dramatically. "You’re the worst, you know that?"

Tasha grinned, clearly relishing in Lizzie's dramatics. "Yep, I know. But you love me anyway."

Lizzie grumbled but didn’t deny it. Tasha just laughed again. "Alright, I’m gonna leave you to your... ogling," she teased, her voice full of mirth.

Lizzie gritted her teeth at Tasha's teasing tone but didn’t object. "Just go," she said, her voice still hoarse.

Tasha grinned one last time. "Alright, alright. I’m going. Have fun with your ogling."

Lizzie just rolled her eyes and huffed, sinking back into the pillows with a sigh.

Tasha chuckled again as she ruffled Lizzie’s hair fondly. "Don’t drool too much."

Lizzie groaned and swat at her hand, but Tasha just laughed, dodging the weak blow.

"Good night, Lizzie," Tasha said as she started walking towards the door.

Lizzie just grumbled and made a face at her, but the effect was ruined by the fact that she was still propped up by pillows and looking exhausted.

Tasha just smirked at her attempted protest and blew her a kiss, amused by Lizzie's grumpy expression. "Sleep tight. And try not to stare at your boyfriend too much. You might creep him out."

Lizzie just rolled her eyes and blew a raspberry in response, a childish gesture that made Tasha laugh and shake her head.

With a final wave, Tasha disappeared out the door, leaving Lizzie alone with Lando, who was still fast asleep in the chair.

She turned her head to look at him, her heart doing a strange little flutter as she watched his chest rise and fall with each slow breath.

Despite Tasha's teasing, Lizzie couldn’t help but stare at Lando. He looked so endearingly tired, his normally carefully styled hair now sticking up in all directions. It was a side of him that not many people got to see, and Lizzie felt a strange sense of privilege at the fact that she was able to witness it.

Mara took that moment to decide that Lizzie made a better place to sleep than the bed and came crawling up.

Lizzie groaned as Mara clambered onto the bed, the dog's weight making the mattress dip.

"You cheeky thing," Lizzie murmured, reaching out to pet Mara under the chin. Mara just wagged her tail and settled down, curling up against Lizzie's side.

Lizzie chuckled softly, her hand buried in Mara's fur. "Comfy, huh? Using me as a pillow now, are we?"

Mara just closed her eyes and leaned into her touch, clearly comfortable and relaxed.

Lizzie continued to pet her, her fingers running over the soft fur. It was nice to have a little bit of normalcy. Even when it was just this.

She glanced over at Lando, still fast asleep, and couldn’t help but feel a pang of affection. He looked so adorable, his face relaxed in sleep, his lips slightly parted.

...and then Mara decided that slobbering and licking all over their entertwined hands was the thing to do.

That woke up Lando, no question about that.

Lando’s eyes shot open at the unexpected sensation of Mara licking at his hands. He jerked upright, startled out of his sleep, and looked down at his now slobbery hand.

He glanced over at Lizzie, who was trying (and failing) to stifle a laugh.

"What the...?" Lando muttered, clearly befuddled and a little annoyed. He wiped his hand on the material of his trousers, trying to get rid of the slobber.

Lizzie couldn’t help but let out a soft giggle at his expression. "Sorry," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Mara thought you needed some extra canine affection."

Lando gave Lizzie an exasperated look, his annoyance melting away at the sound of her laugh. "Right," he said drily, shaking his head. "Because nothing says "affection" like having a dog slobber all over you while you’re trying to sleep.”

She wanted to laugh, but all that came out was: "You are here," Lizzie said weakly.

Lando looked over at her, his expression softening as he took in her weak form. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I am."

The simple words held so much weight in the quiet of the room, and Lizzie felt a surge of emotions. She had never been so glad to see someone in her life.

"You...you didn’t have to come all this way," Lizzie managed to say, her throat still raw.

Lando shook his head. "Yes, I did," he said, his voice firm. "You...you scared me, you know? Hearing what happened... I had to come."

Lizzie’s heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice, and she wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch him, to reassure him. But the IVs and monitors kept her firmly tethered to the bed.

Instead, she settled for a small smile. "I’m fine, you know," she said weakly. "Just a bit... sore."

Llando gave her a look that clearly said he didn’t believe her. "You call being hooked up to all these machines and having multiple seizures 'just a bit sore'?" he asked, his tone slightly harsh.

Lizzie flinched at the harshness in his tone, but she knew he was right. "Alright, alright," she mumbled. "Maybe it’s a bit more than just 'a bit sore'. But I’m still alive, aren’t I?"

Lando sighed and ran a hand through his already unruly hair. "Yeah," he admitted, his voice hoarse. "But... God, it's been so damn scary, Liz."

“I thought… you didn’t answer any of my text messages,” he said weakly.

Lizzie’s heart sank at his words. She hadn’t meant to worry him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Lando shook his head and let out a hoarse laugh. "Of course you’re apologising," he said, his voice filled with a mix of irritation and affection. "You just went through hell and back and you’re apologising to me."

Lizzie just gave him a small smile. "Well, you know me," she said weakly. "I’m a big softie."

Lando huffed and ran a hand over his face. He looked exhausted and incredibly anxious, and it was clear that he had been worried sick about her.

“You won?” She asked him.

Lando looked at her in confusion for a moment before understanding dawned on his face.

"Oh," he said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah. I won."

Lizzie's eyes widened in surprise. "You did?" she asked, unable to keep the awe out of her voice.

Lando nodded, the pride in his eyes clear. "Yeah, I did."

A mixture of emotions washed over Lizzie - pride, amazement, but also sadness. Lando had won, but she hadn’t been there to witness it.

She swallowed thickly, the words sticking in her throat. "I... I wish I could have seen it," she said, her voice hoarse.

Lando’s expression softened, and he reached out to take her hand. "I’ll show you the highlights when you're feeling better, alright? You just focus on getting better."

Lizzie felt the comforting warmth of Lando's hand gripping hers, and she gave him a small, grateful smile.

"You better show me everything," she told him, her voice still weak. "I want to see every lap, every overtake. No skipping."

Lando chuckled softly, his thumb stroking the back of her hand. "Deal," he promised.

They were quiet for a moment, their hands still holding. Lizzie studied Lando's face, taking in weary lines and the dark circles under his eyes. It was clear that he hadn’t gotten much rest since the accident.

"When was the last time you slept?" Lizzie said quietly, breaking the silence.

“Literally five minutes ago, you woke me,” he said with a snort.

“From a nap on a hospital chair. I know how uncomfortable these are,” she shot back. “I meant in a real bed.”

Lando grimaced at the mention of the hospital chair. "Yeah, this chair is brutal," he agreed. "My back is killing me."

Lizzie chuckled weakly. "Maybe you should just get in the bed with me," she said teasingly. 

Lando’s eyes widened at her words, and he looked at her sceptically. "Are you sure that’s a good idea? You know, with the IV lines and all that."

Lizzie shrugged noncommittally. "I don’t think the nurse will mind," she said, her tone still teasing. "I’ll just tell them you’re my emotional support F1 driver."

Lando let out a snort of laughter at her words, his lips curving into a grin. "Yeah, I’m sure that’s a completely normal arrangement," he said sarcastically.

"Hey, it’s a valid medical need," Lizzie said with mock seriousness. "I need my F1 driver cuddles to help me heal."

Lando rolled his eyes, but he was still grinning. "You’re ridiculous, you know that?"

Lizzie feigned an offended expression. "Me? Ridiculous? I’m wounded, I’ll have you know.

Lando chuckled at her dramatic act. "Oh, trust me, I know you’re wounded. You’ve got enough cables and tubes attached to you to prove that."

Lizzie stuck her tongue out at him playfully. "Yeah, rub it in, why don’t you. I’m already suffering enough. I think the least you can do is give me some cuddles."

Lando pretended to consider her request for a moment before sighing dramatically. "Fine," he said, putting on a show of resignation. "I suppose I can sacrifice myself for your healing purposes."

Lizzie grinned victoriously as Lando stood up from the chair. He maneuvered himself onto the bed carefully, trying not to disturb the IV lines.

Once he was settled, Lizzie scooted closer to him, feeling the warmth of his body radiating through their clothes. She buried her face into his side, inhaling his familiar scent.

Lando wrapped his arm around her gently, his hand resting on the small of her back. "This better not be a ploy to steal all my body heat," he joked.

“Can you give me my phone?” She requested

Lando nodded and reached over to the bedside table, where Lizzie’s phone was resting. He grabbed it and handed it to her.

"Here you go," he said, "but don’t get too sucked into it. You need to rest."

Lizzie rolled her eyes playfully as she took her phone. "Relax, I’m just going to check my messages."

Lando eyed her suspiciously. "You’re not going to play Candy Crush or something, are you?"

Lizzie gave him a wounded look. "I’m only going to check my messages."

She opened the phone and started scrolling through her inbox. Lando shifted next to her, getting more comfortable as he made himself at home.

“…by the way, just ignore what I wrote you,” he said suddenly.

Lizzie looked up from her phone, a puzzled expression on her face. "Ignore what?" she asked, unsure of what he was talking about.

Lando let out a sigh, a weary look in his eyes. "Just… ignore any of the texts or voicemails I sent you while you were in here. They’re stupid, and they don’t matter."

Lizzie’s curiosity was piqued. She set her phone down and looked at him, her expression soft. "Why? What did you say?"

Lando ran a hand through his hair, his expression sheepish. "Just… things I shouldn’t have said. Things I didn’t mean. I was just... frustrated, and worried, and not thinking straight. I didn’t mean any of it, seriously."

Lizzie felt a pang of guilt in her chest. She could only imagine what kind of things he’d written or said to her while she’d been unconscious.

"Hey," she said softly, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his arm. "I’m sure it wasn’t that bad. You don’t have to feel embarrassed."

Lando let out a hoarse laugh, the sound lacking any real humor. "Trust me, it was. I was… not in a good headspace, and I may have said some things you didn’t need to hear."

Lizzie’s heart ached. She could imagine how stressful this situation had been for him and she couldn’t help but feel a little responsible for the pain he’s been through.

"I don’t care what you said," she said firmly, her grip on his arm tightening. "I still care about you, you big dummy."

Still, she scrolled through her text messages…and tapped on Lando’s name, scrolling up till her last message to him.

And then she got to read all of it.

Lizzie's heart sank as she read through the messages Lando had sent her, each one filled with panic, worry, and a hint of angry frustration. She could tell that he had been struggling, that the stress and worry had gotten the best of him.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and kept reading, each message more emotional and desperate than the last.

And the fact that he had thought she didn’t care about his win…that she was simply ghosting him…

As she continued reading, Lizzie's heart ached with every message. She could feel the pain, the fear, the frustration radiating from his words. And the fact that he had thought she was ignoring him… that she didn’t care about his win… that stung like a dagger to her heart.

The messages were a stark contrast to the Lando she knew, the confident, carefree guy who seemed to take everything in stride. These messages revealed a side of him that was vulnerable, insecure, and desperately in need of reassurance.

“Lando.”

Lando's attention snapped back to Lizzie, his eyes widening in surprise. "Yeah?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

Lizzie let out a heavy sigh, her hand trembling as she held up the phone. "Did you really think I would just... ignore your messages like that? That I didn't care about your win?"

Lando fidgeted uncomfortably under her gaze, his eyes flickering away from hers. "I...I don't know," he muttered, his voice hoarse. "I just... you didn't reply, and I thought... I thought you were angry with me or something."

Lizzie's heart ached at his words. She could see the guilt and shame etched on his face, and she knew that he was beating himself up over his reaction.

"I… I was unconscious, Lando," she said softly. "I couldn’t exactly respond."

Lando let out a frustrated huff, his eyes still averting hers. "I know that," he said, his voice filled with regret. "I know that now, and I feel like an idiot for even thinking that. But at the time, I was just... scared. And angry. And worried."

Lizzie could see the mix of emotions on his face - guilt, shame, regret, and still that tinge of anger at himself. She scooted a little closer to him, her hand reaching out to take his.

"Hey, look at me," she said softly.

Lando bit his lip, his eyes flickering up to meet hers reluctantly. He looked so weary, so tired, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Lizzie took a deep breath, trying to choose her words carefully. "I want you to know that I would never, ever intentionally ignore you. Especially for something as important as your first win. I know how much it means to you. I care about you.”

Lando let out a hoarse laugh, his expression still marred with guilt. "I know you care about me," he said, his voice hoarse. "I just... I don’t know. Maybe I was just feeling selfish. I just wanted to hear from you, y’know?"

Lizzie nodded, her thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of his hand. "I get it," she said softly. "I really do. But you have to know that I would never ignore you like that. You mean too much to me."

Lando’s expression softened, the tension in his shoulders easing a little. "I’m sorry," he said, his voice laced with regret. "I’m sorry for being an idiot. I should’ve handled things better."

"Hey," Lizzie said softly, her grip on his hand tightening. "You were worried. And scared. I get it. But you need to stop beating yourself up about it. I’m fine. We’re both fine. And I’m not going anywhere, okay?"

Lando let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders finally sagging in defeat. He looked at Lizzie, his expression weary but genuine. "Okay," he murmured. "Okay. I just... I needed to hear that, I guess."

Lizzie gave him a small smile, her hand still holding his. "You don’t have anything to be sorry for, you idiot," she said teasingly. "Just... try not to jump to conclusions next time, alright?"

Lando let out a huff of laughter, his expression finally lightening a bit. "Yeah, yeah, I’ll try," he said, a hint of his usual teasing tone back in his voice.

“And I am so fucking proud of you,” Lizzie told him softly.

Lando's expression softened, the guilt and worry in his eyes fading away. "You...you are?" he asked, like he couldn't quite believe her words.

Lizzie nodded fervently, her grip on his hand tightening. "Of course I am," she said firmly. "You won, Lando. You actually did it. I’m so incredibly proud of you."

Lando let out a shaky breath, his eyes welling up with emotion. "You really... you really mean that?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

Lizzie's heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. She wanted nothing more than to hold him close and tell him how proud she was.

"I do," she said softly. "I really do. You’re incredible, Lando. You have no idea how amazing you are."

Lando sniffed, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill. "You’re just saying that because you’re drugged up," he said, a hint of his usual teasing tone still in his voice.

Lizzie rolled her eyes playfully. "I’m not that drugged up," she said, poking his side with her free hand. "I can still think clearly enough to know how incredible you are."

So incredible. She managed to lean up, and press a chaste kiss against his lips.

“Incredible enough that I get to call you my girlfriend? He asked her hoarsely as she pulled back.

Lizzie's heart fluttered at his words, her cheeks heating up.

"Of course you get to call me your girlfriend," she said, a soft smile playing on her lips. "And I get to call you my boyfriend. The incredible, amazing, F1 race-winning boyfriend."

[littleindulgences]

Your day was going pretty good for once, all things considered—you woke up feeling rested, it was your day off, you even finally managed to finish the errands you were forced to put off all week!

…Then you get home. Your fridge is dead.

Of course it is.

You stand in front of the open door with one hand on your hip, the other on your chin, contemplating when the fuck, how the fuck, this could have happened. Your fresh groceries sit on the counter behind you, stuff you just went out to get because you assumed your fridge would still be operational when you returned. It’s your fault, really, for putting the bar so high.

Finally, after a whole three minutes of bemoaning your luck, you resolve to pull out the old cooler you shoved into your closet and put everything that would turn into a food poisoning nightmare on ice. Once you get everything put away, and the puddles of water mopped up, you put in a maintenance order and pray the landlord actually sends someone this time.

You leave the cooler in the corner, crack open a bottle of wine, and mourn the loss of your good day.

A couple days pass and you forget all about the work order. You figured out the next morning that the fridge wasn’t dead after all, it just got unplugged…somehow. Just added fuel to your “the building is haunted” fire. You simply plugged the fridge back in and went about your life, no biggie.

It was a big biggie.

You’re just out fetching the mail when it happens.

“Hello? Maintenance! Is anyone home?” The gruff, deep voice carries easily down the hall. You don’t register it at first, flicking through your mail, until the voice calls out again: “Hello? Maintenance, comin’ in!”

Wait. Maintenance.

The fucking fridge!

You dash down the hall, practically skidding to a stop in front of your apartment where two large—and you mean large, damn—men hover.

You avoid looking them directly in the eye as your pulse throbs in your throat, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. You’re sure the whole hall must’ve heard them, fuck.

“I’m so sorry!” you say, awkwardly pushing yourself between the biggest man and your doorway. “I’m sorry, there’s nothing actually wrong, I fixed it already! There was nothing wrong with the fridge, it just came unplugged.” You force a laugh, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. You still don’t look at them.

“‘S alrigh’ ma’am, no problem at all,” says the man, and wow his voice is nice—

“It’s just, there wasn’t a way for me to cancel the work order,” you explain. “I’m so sorry you had to come all the way up here.”

Oh God, what if they try to come inside to double check? You’re cursing yourself for picking today to go out in your house clothes—short shorts and a tank that doesn’t completely cover your stomach—but the building was always so hot and you would’ve melted if you stayed in your work uniform—

“It’s okay, ma’am, really,” he’s saying again, “We’re glad there’s not an issue. You live on the second floor with no elevators, we didn’t want to bring a new fridge up anyway.” You giggle for real this time.

Then you risk glancing up at them.

Oh God…

They’re fucking beautiful. The man in front of you—his name tag reads John—is an absolute bear. Thick and broad, covered with hair, smiling gently at you like he really doesn’t blame you for your mix-up. And the guy behind him, you think his tag says Kyle, could be a supermodel: smooth, dark skin, a little leaner than John but still mouthwatering. The lopsided grin he’s giving you makes your heart race. The cap he wears makes him look almost boyish.

“Right,” you say, hoping you don’t sound as breathless as you feel. “Sorry again.”

Kyle absently licks his lips and you think you might pass out.

“Here. In case something else happens, you can reach me directly.” John hands you a crisp business card, lingering just slightly when your fingers brush his. They’re rough. Makes sense.

“Thanks,” you breathe. Kyle looks at you like he’s suppressing a laugh, then taps John on the shoulder, signaling him to leave.

“Take care, love.” John turns away from you with a wink, and you watch his arm flex as he hoists his toolbag and follows Kyle to the staircase. Kyle waves cheekily back at you before he descends.

Once you’re safely inside the apartment, you bury your face in your hands with a deep groan. And if you already begin brainstorming other things that might mysteriously break in the near future, well, that’s your business.

@beloveds-embrace ✨

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 11

Ch 12 is done and I'm kinda foaming at the mouth to give it to y'all- but I need to wait to finish ch 13-

Enjoy!

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 11 >>next

Finding The Immortal was harder than expected but you weren’t surprised. Cecil worked The Guardians to the bone, you were sure. Nevertheless, you found him in the end, quickly flying next to him to greet him.

Surprised, the man looked at you before giving a small, weary smile while greeting you back. “This may sound crazy and like I’m digging into your life, and I understand if you don’t wish to speak about it, but I really need-“ You stopped as soon as he grabbed your shoulders, making you both stop midair and face each other. “It’s okay, take a breath.”

“See- that’s the thing! I don’t need to breathe, I don’t need to eat, I can’t die because I’m immortal like you due to magic and I need to talk to someone who gets it because this past week I feel everyone’s been acting crazy and it’s making me feel crazy- And- and I’ve lost you.” You looked at the shocked man. “You’re immortal?...”

“Yep.” You nod. “… Long story?” The Immortal asks slowly, getting the same response in return. His beeper goes off and without even looking at it he turns it off. “That may have been important.” You pointed it out, but he just chuckled and smiled. “This is important too. I’m sure the others can do well without me for a bit. Now, how about we talk over some food? I know this little family dinner in Las Vegas.” You relaxed, nodding at his suggestion.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“- and then he just tells me to be careful around certain magical weapons because they might hurt me- Like dude, you told me I’m immortal, taught me a bit of magic, and then dipped telling me to see him in a week at the same spot- he could have at least given me a way to contact him after telling me that something might kill me!” You sigh and take a bite of your burger and fries. “You were right, by the way, this is a great spot.”

Immortal chuckles at your complaint. “At least there is someone who is helping.” He furrowed his brows as he also ate bits of his steak. “Or is trying. I had a mental breakdown the first time I realized that I’m not aging and keep defying death.”

“Two days after I had a panic attack thinking about how everyone I love will eventually die, even Nolan and Mark- sure it’ll take a few centuries but that’s still nothing to immortality! The old bastard has been acting weird since I told them too, and Luthor keeps annoying me about his blasted party- which I’m like 90% sure is a front for my birthday- and today I’m supposed to meet the British bastard, but before I have to visit someone else-”

“Breathe, it’ll be fine, you’ll live.” The ancient man tried to reassure you with a small joke about the situation. “I can’t give much advice about this- your immortality seems very different from mine, and to be honest, I never actively think about it considering how sensible of a subject it is. Especially the ‘how many people will pass right by you’ topic. It’s…”

“Terrifying?” He sighs and nods at the completion. “It’s nice to know I’m not alone anymore, and that you thought I’d be the best person to talk about it with.” He plays with his food. “Therapists say that it’s good to talk about your feelings, right? I think it will be great for us both to talk openly about it- I don’t have a phone, but I do hang by the hero memorial stone every other Sunday- if, you know-“

“I’d love that, thank you Immortal…Abraham? Have you chosen a new name?” As your soft smile turned to a confused look the man only laughed, assuring you to call him whatever. Perhaps after that many years, names do lose their importance, or maybe it was the fact that he never had one when he was born in the Stone Age that could be translated to New World speech. “The honey pancakes are to die for, by the way.” His choice of words makes you snort with amusement.

“…You and Lex Luthor are friends?” He asks, a mix of confusion and surprise filling his tone. You just give a long sigh. “Friends is such a strong word…”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You waited patiently in front of the manor’s front entrance, smiling once the doors opened, immediately being greeted by the butler. “I’ll never hear you call me by my first name, will I Sanford?” You teased the older man as he led you through the halls. “I fear not, ma’am.” He smiled as he bowed, leaving you once you walked by him, getting closer to Samson.

You set the little box of treats on the accent table in between the two armchairs as you took your place across Samson while you both greeted each other. “How have you been? How’s that suit going?” Your soft-spoken questions are met with a defeated sigh and a shrug. “It’ll take two more days.”

“You know… You don’t need the suit or powers to do some good. Let me finish, please-” You quickly interrupted. These men were always so quick to jump the gun. “You’re rotting here. I’m not telling you to drop the suit but in these two days, you could go see the outside. It won’t kill you. There is this kid, Adam. He is staying at the hospital I volunteer at and he’s quite a big fan of Black Samson-“

“He’d be disappointed to see me-“ You swiftly but gently tapped his foot. “He’s one of the kids you saved when you lost your powers, Sam. He saw you lose your powers and still hold up kilograms of ruble just so he could have a chance at escape. That boy admires you now more than ever. You need to face things and it’ll be better for you if you do it before you feel like you’re worthy again just because you’ve got powers again.”

“That’s harsh, kid.” Samson almost pouted. “Learned from the best.” You shrug and he smiles. A moment of silence passes between you two before he finally asks where the hospital is.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

John was on his tenth cigarette, he was showing great restraint, really. He knew he made a mistake in asking Zatanna for help, but he seemed unable to do the opposite lately. They both had been arguing for an hour, Constantine knew that the girl would take to Zee like a cat to catnip, but this was making him regret letting Zatanna know more beyond a magical kid needs help. “I’m just saying- maybe Batman should know, she’s his kid-“

“The numpty has been locking her up in his mansion and ignoring her for years, her daft siblings too. The rogues had to raise and give her the attention Bruce wasn’t willing to.” He scratched at his chin before taking another puff.

“Maybe Bruce-“ John didn’t let her finish. “Don’t. Don’t you dare finish that, Zee. She’s just a kid- a kid who ran away because she thought Batman would kill her. Between the two of us, you should know better. You’re giving him too much grace.”

“Are you two mind reading or just mean mugging each other? Sorry for being late, by the way. Was finishing my project and lost track of time.” Your voice broke the two from their argument.  Zatanna looked at John with a raised eyebrow. “She doesn’t look like the little kid you described.” John clears his throat, brushing off the comment on his manipulation before he introduces the two. “I thought it would be good to expose you to different kinds of magic-“

“You’re ditching me.” John choked on his words as you crossed your arms, quickly denying the accusation. “- It’s just- I- Zatanna is a great Elemental mage, I thought you’d like to learn more about Umbrakinesis-“ Zatanna, at John’s rambling and pleading look, stepped forward. “It’s nice to finally meet you, John spoke highly of you.”

You gave her a gentle smile as you came closer and landed in front of her. “I doubt that, though, it’s nice to meet you too. Love your shows.” Your eyes moved to Constantine. “So, you two are going to teach me how to manipulate shadows? Can I learn the other elements and the mind-reading thingy you both were doing?”

“Telepathy, love.” John sighs as you give him a blank stare and double down. “Mind-reading thingy.” Zatanna chuckles softly at the look of pure defeat on John’s face.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Dinner was quiet. For the past week it’s been awkward, especially as Nolan kept missing dinners and breakfasts, and seemingly avoiding you and Mark specifically. “So… how has your day been?” Debbie asks, trying to lighten the mood.

“Amber and I got together, like- for real. And I mostly dealt with small stuff today. Robberies, Elephant Man, three times, the sort… Did dad text or- call, at least?” Mark mumbles, tired and slightly sore. Debbie shook her head. “No, but I’m sure he’s fine.”

You shrug once all eyes are on you. “Talked to Immortal about- you know. Also trained my magic some more and found out some elemental magic just hates me. Water tried to drown me…” You glared at the glass as you spoke, getting up with a groan after you finished half of the food. “My everything hurts. I’ll go sleep, thanks for the meal mama.”

“Aren’t you going to wait for dad?” Debbie asks softly, trying to hide her worry. You just shake your head and take your plate to trash the remains and put it in the sink. “Nah. He wants to act like the sperm donor, he’s going to get treated as such. Besides, gotta check up with my friends in Gotham. Good night.” You waved her off, not noticing Mark’s brows furrowing.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

While Hal was gaging as he encased the mangled body of The Joker, calling for the Watchtower to notify Batman that Joker had been found, Red Hood and the Sirens were celebrating, well- Jason and Harley were.

“Batman is going to be angry.” Pamela sighs in her wine glass. “Batman? Angry? Why, he’d never.” Selina joked, laughing before sipping on her own wine glass. “He’ll bust a vein when he finds out it was our little hero who did it.” Selina’s eyes catch Jason’s figure as he tries to climb onto her coffee table. “Wait- No! It’s-“ She and Pam cringe as the table wrecks to the side, the man’s body making a loud thud as he kisses the ground.

“Broken.” Catwoman sighs. “You good kid?” Ivy asks, almost being drowned by Harley's hysterical laughing. “I’m amazing! Best day of my life!” He slurs, giving two thumbs up before dropping his hands and groaning. “B-man is going to be so mad.”

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami @enchantingarcadecreation @alishii @d3nnji @itsberrydreemurstuff @yuyuzi-ling @welpthisisboring @1abi @mxvoid26 @persephone-kore-law @bluevenus19 @ryuushou

[luvst4rc0r3]

Loser!Jinx x Reader Headcanons

Jinx wasn’t just a loser—she was the loser. The kind who sat in the back of the class doodling in her notebook instead of taking notes, who always had a random bruise from doing something stupid, and who somehow had a negative GPA but could explain the entire plot of an obscure 90s anime no one had ever heard of.

She wasn’t exactly hated at school, but she was weird, loud, and unpredictable, which made people avoid her. Except for Vi, who was always yelling at her to “Get your shit together, Powder,” and Sevika, who only tolerated her because Vi forced her to.

Then there was you.

The first time Jinx saw you, she short-circuited. She was just trying to make it through another miserable day of Algebra when you walked into the classroom, and suddenly, math didn’t exist anymore. All she could think was:

“Oh no.”

You were effortlessly cool—new to school, good at everything Jinx wasn’t, and way out of her league. But you were nice. Too nice. The kind of nice that made Jinx go home and kick her feet while screaming into her pillow because why would you ever talk to her unless you were planning to ruin her life?

- The first time you talk to her, it’s because you sit next to her in Algebra.

You: “Hey, do you have a pencil?”

Jinx, panicking: “Wh—uh—I—yeah—no—I mean—” (frantically digs through her backpack, pulls out a crayon).

You: “…Thanks?”

Jinx: “Yeah! Totally! I only use crayons, actually. Pencils are a government conspiracy.”

You: “Oh? Tell me more.”

She thinks you’re messing with her. But you don’t laugh. You actually listen. And when she rants about whatever nonsense is currently living rent-free in her head, you just nod along like she’s making sense.

She falls in love immediately.

- Jinx is the type of loser who spends all her time online, plays obscure indie games, and has a concerning amount of conspiracy theories about random things (like why the school vending machine is always out of strawberry soda).

- She is hopelessly, painfully, pathetically in love with you. Like, full-blown kicking her feet and giggling into her pillow kind of crush. She doesn’t even try to be normal about it.

- If you so much as glance in her direction, her brain short-circuits. Immediate blue screen of death. Malfunctioning Jinx noises.

- She swears she’s being subtle, but the entire school knows she’s down horrendously bad for you. Like, it’s embarrassing. Vi has tried to stage an intervention. Sevika has bet money on how long it’ll take before she faints in front of you.

- If you actually talk to her? Oh, she’s done for. Stammering, tripping over her words, probably dropping whatever she’s holding. You could ask her the simplest question, and she’d be like:

You: “Hey, do you have a pencil?”

Jinx, sweating bullets: “Uh—uh—uh—uh—I—pen—yes—no—I mean—I do? Maybe? What’s a pencil?”

- She definitely stalks your social media. She has your entire posting schedule memorized, knows all your interests, and tries to bring them up in conversation to impress you—but it just makes her sound insane.

Jinx: “Soooo… I heard you like frogs.”

You: “What?”

Jinx: “Uh. Frogs. Y’know. Ribbit.”

- If you compliment her, even as a joke, she will take it to her grave. Like, you could say, “Hey, cool jacket,” and she’ll wear that same jacket every day for a month straight.

- One time you called her cute. She has not recovered.

- She tries to act cool around you, but she’s the type of loser who fumbles everything. Drops her phone. Walks into doors. Trips over air. It’s a miracle she hasn’t spontaneously combusted yet.

- If you so much as smile at her, she’s writing about it in her diary like it’s the most life-changing event to ever happen.

“FEBRUARY 8TH, 2025. 3:47 PM. Y/N SMILED AT ME. I CAN DIE HAPPY NOW.”

or

“February 8th, 2025. 3:47 PM. Y/N TOUCHED MY ARM. I CAN NEVER WASH IT AGAIN.”

- Jinx, in her head, planning out all the ways she could confess to you: Writing you a love letter? Making a mixtape? A grand, romantic gesture?

- Jinx, in reality: “I like your face.”

- If you start liking her back? Oh, she’s doomed. Malfunctioning. Exploding. Game over.

People still don’t understand how you two work, but at this point, it doesn’t even matter. You and Jinx are in your own little world, and honestly? It’s kind of perfect.

- You keep hanging out with her. At first, just in class, but then at lunch, after school, texting late at night. She stops feeling like a loser when she’s with you. She starts hoping.

- The first time you realize you like her back, it’s because of something dumb.

You’re at lunch, sitting with her, Vi, and Sevika. Jinx, being a disaster, spills her drink all over herself. Instead of being embarrassed, she just goes, “Guess I’m drinking it the hard way.”

And something about the way she owns her weirdness makes your heart do a stupid little flip.

- The first time you flirt with her, she malfunctions.

- The first time she realizes you like her back, it breaks her brain.

It happens after school. You’re both walking home together when you grab her hand, lacing your fingers through hers like it’s nothing.

She nearly trips over her own feet. You just laugh and squeeze her hand tighter.

Oh no, she thinks. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

She’s never going to recover from this.

(She doesn’t want to.)

Random Cute Couple Things:

- Jinx is the kind of girlfriend who will 100% steal your clothes.

Not just hoodies—everything. She once showed up wearing your jacket, your socks, and your backpack, and when you pointed it out, she just went, “Yeah, and?”

The worst part? She looks stupidly cute in your clothes, so you can’t even be mad.

(You started “accidentally” leaving extra hoodies at her place just so she’d always have one of yours to wear.)

- She gets insanely clingy when she’s sleepy.

Jinx isn’t really a cuddler during the day—she’s always bouncing off the walls, getting into trouble, dragging you into her weird ideas. But the second she gets tired?

Good luck getting up.

She’ll wrap herself around you like a human koala, mumbling something about how “you’re warm and smell good” and refusing to let go.

(You’ve accepted your fate. You live here now.)

- She makes the dumbest bets just to get kisses.

• “Bet you can’t solve this riddle. If you lose, I get a kiss.

• “If I make this paper ball into the trash can, you have to kiss me.”

• “Okay, rock-paper-scissors, best out of three—winner gets a kiss.”

You caught on pretty quickly and just started kissing her before she could suggest a bet. It completely breaks her brain every time.

(She still tries, though.)

- She doodles all over your stuff.

If you lend Jinx a pen, it’s over—your notebooks, your arms, even your homework will be covered in little scribbles.

Sometimes they’re just random sketches. Other times, you’ll find little hearts with your name inside them.

(She denies drawing them. But the blush on her face says otherwise.)

- She absolutely loves when you play with her hair.

She pretends she doesn’t care at first—shrugs it off, acts like it’s whatever. But the second you start running your fingers through her hair, she literally melts.

(If you braid it, she’ll leave it in all day, even if it looks ridiculous.)

- She’s always touching you.

• Holding your hand? Obviously.

• Leaning against you when you’re sitting together? Yup.

• Linking pinkies just because she can? Of course.

It’s like she needs to be physically connected to you at all times.

(If you ever pull away too soon, she’ll dramatically gasp and go, “What, you don’t love me anymore?!”)

- She makes up the dumbest excuses just to hang out with you.

“Babe, I need your help with something.”

“What is it?”

“I dunno, I just wanted to see you.”

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

I love Jinx

I want sleep

[byhees]

when you want to do the ribbon trend

heeseung would have the smuggest look smothered all over his features; it’s as though it’d be a telltale hint as to why his pretty girl would be skipping towards the living room, a roll of pink satin ribbon in hand; and immediately after you’d ask him for his permission to tie little pretty ribbons around his biceps, he’d respond with a playful “you don’t even have to ask, love”; would intentionally flex his muscles whilst you’d be tying them, wanting to show off a little— and perhaps earn a compliment or two…

jay would be a little amused; had he ever seen this trend before? never. is he bothered by it? absolutely not— especially not with the glint in your gaze, the way you excitedly explain the concept of the short video to him has his heart melting, hesitance dissipating into thin vapour; “just let me know what to do, yeah?” he’d say, sitting still and patient as you tie the pink ribbons around his biceps— would flush ever so slightly when you tie one around a bundle of hair, the bow sitting pretty atop his head…

jake would, initially, be a little confused, but he’d simply follow along, not wanting to defuse that euphoric tint to your eyes; once he’d gotten more or less of the trend, he’d fully bask in it— “are you sure that one’s straight? looks a little wonky from where i am”, he’d comment under his breath, a cheeky smile playing on his lips as you lean in once more, re-tying the satin ribbon around his bicep— it’s just a silly excuse for you to do it again; would wind up leaning close to press a kiss on your lips, heart thumping with adoration, the video stopping its recording a second or two later…

sunghoon would, surprisingly, be a little menace, and find new ways to fluster you; the whole concept of the trend already has him drowning in a puddle of excitement. would wind up being a little trend-inventor, suggesting new takes; “how about you leave a pretty kiss mark on my cheek, that way it’ll highlight the whole ribbon thing”— that’s.. not exactly correlated; “how about i tie some in your hair too? that way we’ll match”— you’re sure that he’s forgotten the main idea of the trend; regardless, you let him do as he suggests with a small, exasperated smile, given that he’s so enthusiastic about the whole video…

sunoo would be adorably eager about the whole idea; a millisecond after explaining the concept of the video to him, he’d find himself sprinting to the room, already grabbing the roll of satin ribbon for you— “i’m ready, baby”, he’d chirp, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to reveal his biceps; you’d have to contain the growing blush across your cheeks from his directness, paired with the urge to giggle at how enthusiastic he was being…

jungwon would tease you on end; “gosh, if you wanted an excuse to gawk at my biceps, you could’ve just said so, baby”, he’d cheekily sing, rolling up the short sleeves of his shirt to show his toned bicep— would intentionally flex his muscles, finding the bashful clear of your throat, and the pink hue to your cheeks, adorable; “it’s the prettiest thing ever, love. thank you”, he’d giggle, gazing up to meet your twinkling eyes…

riki would be flustered beyond the capacity of words; would cock his head to the side, brows furrowing as a soft “huh?” slips past his lips— wouldn’t get it even after the second time of explanation; simply follows what you say, gazing at you with light confusion as you tie a pretty ribbon around his biceps. “i still don’t get it.. but i guess it looks nice”, he’d mumble, fingers lightly fiddling with the ends of the satin; without a doubt, he’d lie in bed the following night, scrolling through social media for more couple trends…

[vettelsvee]

TWO SHY IDIOTS IN LOVE | Oscar Piastri

Oscar Piastri x Reader

SUMMARY: You and Oscar, your classmate back when you were in high school, and two shy idiots that might have feelings for the other, go on a "date"

WORD COUNT: 1471

WARNINGS: Mentions of drowning on a pool. Apart from that, I don't think anything else

VEE'S NOTES: I had this on my drafts for a while (more than a year I'd say) and since I'm a bit sick today and can't really move from bed I had to take it out. Anyways, it's short and one of the first things I ever wrote for Oscar, so I hope you like it! <3 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

You were excited, perhaps, for your first date with Oscar Piastri, the famous Formula 1 driver whom you had been following since his early days in the motorsport world simply because he hailed from your hometown and was also a former classmate.

You had spent days preparing for the big day when finally, the Aussie was going to take you on what you hoped would be the first of many dates. You had never lost contact with the other, although your didn't talk very often, so when Oscar surprised you by inviting you to Monza for the Italian Grand Prix, and despite having university exams, you didn't hesitate to accept the proposal.

It would be a bit hypocritical to say you hadn't prepared for the occasion. You had literally spent days choosing the perfect dress, along with the ideal hairstyle and makeup to look as best as possible just for him.

Finally, after patiently waiting for the blessed Friday to arrive, the time came to leave your hotel room and head to the circuit's paddock, where you had agreed to meet Oscar to watch the two Free Practice sessions and then go for lunch.

When you arrived at the agreed-upon location, your former classmate greeted you with a shy, but nice and comfortable, smile, then followed it with a warm hug that made you travel back to those school days when you used to spend most of your time with the guy in front of you.

"Y/N, you look stunning" exclaimed Oscar, a bit shyly and his cheeks turning instantly red. "I'll take you to McLaren’s garage and introduce you to my team quickly," he explained, almost without pausing. "They'll be taking great care of you while I'm driving, alright?"

As you walked towards the garage, after a brief stroll through the paddock due to the imminent start of the Free Practice sessions, you could feel the excitement in the air, the deafening noise of the engines and the adrenaline rush making you feel even more thrilled.

After introductions were made, and also hearing the scolding Lando started giving Oscar for being late, Piastri quickly showed you, while explaining it briefly, his race car, while getting into the gear to drive it.

"Don't you feel overwhelmed in there?" you asked with quite some curiosity.

"I've been doing this for most of my life, dear," replied Oscar. "Do you really think I get overwhelmed at this point?"

"Don't you?"

"Well, to be honest… yes," Oscar answered, "I get pretty overwhelmed, but it’s part of the job."

With that said, he turned on the engine and set out to achieve the best possible position for both himself and his team, mainly with the intention of surprising you, who ended up being more than impressed with his performance. Oscar didn’t only finish on the podium, but was also the faster driver of the day. 

Oscar parked the car, and a team of mechanics immediately appeared to start moving it into the garage. You barely had time to congratulate him because he seemed to disappear into some sort of private room and didn’t even bother to tell you something, and you also didn't want to disturb him. You felt somewhat relieved when about five minutes after that, a woman, in a very pleasant tone, mentioned that Oscar liked to take a shower as soon as he got out of his vehicle and also apologised for not having mentioned it earlier.

You thought that it made sense, and felt somewhat relieved. If you were going to eat at a restaurant, it wasn't the best idea to go all sweaty.

As soon as he finished, about just ten minutes later, he approached you and, after quickly apologizing and without saying anything else, simply took your hand. You knew Oscar was shy, and even you tried to keep as calm as possible to help him somehow, your anxiety increased more and more, but it dissipated when the brown-eyed man began to tell you anecdotes from your school days, causing more than one laugh, while also mixing in details about his career and his expectations for his future as a driver.

There was no doubt, you were fascinated by the passion with which your companion spoke about his work and, above all, by his great dedication to it.

When you arrived at the restaurant, Oscar took you once again by your hand and led you to the table, where a bouquet of roses rested next to a flickering candle.

"This is for you," he commented, handing the bouquet to you. "To be honest… I didn't know what to get you, and I didn’t know if you even liked flowers, so… I hope you like them and aren't allergic."

You didn't know what to say. Nervousness started going thought your body, and you could feel Oscar’s as well.

"It's amazing," you ended up replying. "Thank you… I've always loved flowers and no one has ever given me a bouquet before."

You smiled back at him shyly, lowering your head as you couldn’t stop thanking him while sitting in the seat Oscar had pulled out for you.

Throughout the lunch, the conversation flowed easily, with Oscar telling funny stories about incidents with other Formula 1 drivers, and you laughing back while listening actively. Also, you started sharing anecdotes from your university life because beyond that, there wasn't many exciting stories to tell him compared to the ones he was telling you.

After finishing the meal, Oscar paid even though you insisted multiple times to do it, and assured you that you’ll have another moment to pay something else for him. Then, he took your hand while stroking it softly and led you out of the restaurant, going back to the paddock for a walk through it.

"Do you remember when I almost drowned in the swimming pool during Physical Education class, and you jumped in to help me without even hesitating?" Oscar said as he laughed, trying to break the awkward silence. "From that moment on, you really became my hero. Also… my mum made me join swimming lessons.”

"It wasn’t that much, Oscar," you replied sarcastically due to your shyness, "but I really appreciate the compliment…."

"So…," the driver pointed out, changing the topic since he was quite ashamed of himself after revealing that, pointing towards the track. "Every time there's a Grand Prix, it's surreal to me that I have a car out there, ready for a race, and I get to drive it..."

Noah looked ahead, imagining Oscar’s car racing at high speed, exuding elegance, with him on it smiling behind the helmet while focusing.

"It's a dream come true, isn't it?" you said, turning your gaze back to your friend.

"Definitely," he replied. "It's what I've always wanted to do, and what I've sacrificed so much for, so it's amazing to be part of this sport not only competing with the best drivers in the world but also forming friendships with them."

You looked at Oscar and saw the passion with which he spoke of his life in his eyes.

"You're amazing," you said, smiling. "I'm so proud of you."

He approached you and took your hand for the umpteenth time that day. No matter how many times he did it, he came to the conclusion that it would never be enough for him. 

"Y/N, you've always been special to me," he said. "Although I've never told you, I've always admired your intelligence, your strength, and your beauty, and I've thought about you every day of my life, especially on race days. And now, here with you, I feel more in love than ever."

You felt your heart pounding.

"I feel something for you too, Oscar. Actually, most of your high school years…" you confessed, getting closer to him while trying not to die from embarrassment. "I never thought this could happen, but here we are…"

Oscar, trying to keep his cool, ended up leaning in carefully and kissing you gently. You felt everything around you stop. At that moment, you realized that you were a fool for not trying to do this earlier, for not confessing how you really feel about Oscar, convincing yourself he wouldn’t feel the same, but promised yourself to never deny your feelings anymore.

As you separated, still eyes locked on each other, Oscar put his arm around your waist and led you back to his car, ready to head to the hotel where you were both staying, with many thoughts in mind that included him cuddling with you for the rest of the night and, hopefully, for the very first time.

"Y/N… Do you think we could do this again… somehow?"

"I don’t think so, Oscar: I’m absolutely, completely sure, of that… Just if you want us to.”