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trashogram · 2 months ago

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A Bauble

Satan/f!Reader

Summary: You become the fair judge Satan’s typist. You’ll learn what a lonely job that can be.

Warnings: Possessive Behavior, False Imprisonment, Workplace Sexual Harassment (Taken up to Eleven), Mild DubCon, Penetrative Sex, Size Difference, Temp Play (?)

ఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌ

Whoever had made the decision to forgo introducing you and Satan had made a big mistake, which was made clear by the fact that, as the official stenographer, you were the one literally typing up his uncharacteristic pauses, stutters and stumbles throughout the trial. It was uncomfortably obvious that much of his speech delays correlated with his gaze boring into you as well.

By the end of it the defendant had been quickly disposed of and you were shocked to feel yourself being picked up as you read through a long scroll of “um”, “uh” and “er”s.

“Your Honor!” You clutched the court documents to your chest as Satan held you up to his eyes. The look in those four molten orbs left you feeling flushed and overheated… or perhaps it was being so close to the dragon’s mouth.

“Would you care to join me in my office, Miss?” Satan’s drawl left you blinking rapidly. “I would be much obliged to see what you wrote of these proceedings.”

His smooth countenance defied your initial impression of the Sin, and while you were bewildered at the change, there was no real way you could decline his invitation. You adjusted your spectacles and straightened up in the palm of Satan’s hand, nodding resolutely.

“Of course, Sir.”

ఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌ

The memory of your first conversation with Satan was fuzzy. At best, you could recall how his stare continued to shift while you spoke. Those eyes continued to warm you as they softened until you felt like you’d been wrapped up in an electric blanket.

Near the end, when you had run out of things about your prior work experience to say, you felt Satan’s large finger run down your flank. The tender gesture had made you shudder, and you crossed your arms over your chest at the eerie feeling of being exposed and undone.

“My court is lucky to have you.” This coming from the very soul that had been notorious for murdering a good many of his previous court reporters (and jury men, attorneys, defense lawyers, emotional support aides) in his rage made you balk.

“You are indispensable.” Satan continued. “We’ll need to provide you with better provisions to ensure you stay satisfied with your position.”

The dragon’s claw curled around you like a serpent, bumping you forward gently yet dragging your hooves over the ground. You had no choice but to steady yourself with a hand to his muzzle, nails digging into his skin unintentionally as he grumbled.

No, not grumbled. Satan purred.

He pushed you the rest of the way with that giant digit so that your front was pressed against his face entirely. Your eyes shut as hot air from his nostrils blew back your hair, and opened in time to see Satan’s eyelids flutter.

******

Your “better provisions” consisted of a podium modified to tower above everyone else save for Satan himself. You were in his direct line of sight, and the position of the podium had changed to somewhere much closer to the center of the room. It was a confusing change, although that confusion turned into discomfort when you stepped onto the platform to see your basic desk and chair had been replaced with luxuries.

The new, plush furniture that resembled bedding more than an office space did not distract you from the spire fence that had also been installed at the border of your podium.

“The barrier is simply to keep you safe.” Satan said when you questioned it. “We can’t let our treasured reporter fall and break her pretty neck, now can we?”

You swallowed, feeling small beneath the weight of his honey voice and warm blanket gaze and intimate closeness. Satan’s breath followed you, always billowing upon you gently until you smelled like smoke for the rest of the day.

ఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌ

Kept within the warmth and sanctity of his court, Satan had unraveled you so much that soon you couldn’t remember what it felt like to be cold.

The skies of Hell were accessible by looking through the window outside of your podium. Your temp agency had cut all contact with you. And although the counselor that flitted at Satan’s side had said he would get to the bottom of things, you felt as though he had also left you in the lurch.

Heat left you indolent. You lounged upon your priceless silk pillows more than you typed, hands busy fanning your face and wiping the sweat from your brow than continuing the farce of being a simple journalist.

Satan would open the gate once legal proceedings had ended, and he would take you in hand before adjourning to his private chambers. The breeze to and fro was a welcome relief — from the sweltering courtroom, the dizzying height, Yogirt’s insufferable grin, and Satan’s eyes following your every move.

He chuckled as he opened his hand to find you laid out on your back, exhausted.

“Oh little one.” The Sin brought his arm to his torso, cupping you to his well-defined chest. “The day has been long, hasn’t it?”

Your eyes rolled up to see the great dragon cast an indulgent smile upon you. The smile grew in size when lifted you higher, tickling your bared skin with a soft nudge and quiet snort.

His purr rolled over your muscles until you were numb, and the lick of his tongue on your midriff garnered no reaction. You sighed, resting your eyes again.

Satan jostled you. “Oh I know you’re tired, but there’s something I need to show you.“

“Another provision…?” Your own voice sounded so very far away.

It disappeared within Satan’s quietened laughter, still loud enough to echo around the room.

“You could call it that.” He murmured. “But it's not something I advertise, so you best keep it to yourself.”

ఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌ

“Fuck —” You gasped, feeling the heat of him sear you inside and out. This swelter was inescapable, no matter if the harbinger himself shrank down to be three heads taller than you instead of three-hundred thousand.

Satan had held you in his arms, crushing you to his well-kept physique of claret and golden scales. You awoke from your overheated daze to feel his body envelop yours and his smirk draped over your slackened mouth.

You felt his tongue slither in, still large enough that you could only suck on it. Satan groaned, igniting a flare up inside your belly. The flare pulsed and fluttered, growing into a roaring flame as the Sin carried you to the nearest plush surface. He laid you down, adjusting you with his tail wound below your behind.

Silk and satin and velvet brushed along your body in Satan’s caresses, his kisses and licks. Your thighs were pulled apart and the flames ate you up until you were screaming. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you were left begging for the Sin’s cock, even when at a glance it stood erect in angry, burning phosphorescent reds and oranges.

You dripped onto the bedspread as your lover turned you over and shoved pillows under your hips to elevate them.

The lordly dragon stretched you beyond your capacity, beyond what you had taken when he had delved into your sopping cunt with his thick fingers. The impale of his cock, felt deep into your womb, filled you too full.

“Oh please! Please move.” You sobbed. “I'll do anything, Your Honor!”

There was an audible snort of smoke as the Sin’s legs flexed and his length eased out of you. You shivered as you were nearly free, then squealed as he arched his hips and speared you again. The beast repeated the move again, before jarring you with a shallower thrust.

His experimental rhythm lasted for less than a minute as Satan found the speed that drew out the loudest and sweetest noises from your lips. What made you clutch his scaly fingers as they tightened around your figure, inching upward to palm at your breasts. You spasmed at the novelty of him being able to cup both of them with just one hand.

Satan draped himself over you, angular head resting over your shoulder while he lifted you up by the chin to look back at him.

“You’re enjoying yourself?” His gravelly tone rolled over your back.

You nodded. “Yes… yes… I-I’m gonna cum.”

Another groan rattled through you, with Satan losing control just enough to shove you into the mattress with his bulk.

“Please, can I cum?” You whined against the sheets. “Please let me cum, Your Honor.”

Satan’s hips smacked against your ass wetly, audibly. His thrusts came faster and harder as he humped into you with wild abandon. “Call me Satan. Call me — ! And I’ll give you everything, little one…”

“Sa-Satan! Can I c-cum?!” The words swirled together, slurred through a deluge of drool and mindless ecstasy. “Can I pl-please cum-m Satan? Plea-se Satan! Satan!”

The climax that savaged your body left you writhing and convulsing, barely able to comprehend Satan’s roar as he followed you into the abyss and glutted you with his white hot seed.

#helluva boss satan x reader #helluva boss satan #helluva boss x reader #satan x reader #smut #nsft

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mixsethaddams · 2 years ago

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Eddie forgets it’s Valentine’s Day until the literal moment he pulls into the parking lot outside of Steve’s job to pick him up after his shift. The big banner in the window offering their February 14th special offers nearly sent him into cardiac arrest.

It was too late now to flip it into reverse and speed to the nearest garage and buy the first box of candy he could find; Steve had spotted him through the window and was already waving at him. Eddie usually arrived a few minutes early but he got caught up staring through the window at the music store downtown. There was an acoustic guitar he was saving up for on display. It would take him almost a year to get there on his current budget, but he was determined. Now that Eddie thought about it, there was definitely some pink ribbon hanging in that window today. He cursed himself again, realising he must’ve seen a million other literal red flags throughout the day that he’d ignored.

“Think, Munson, think….” Eddie grumbled to himself, wringing his hands around the steering wheel with white knuckles.

Steve was walking towards the van now, and the small red gift bag in his hand killed any hope Eddie might have had that he’d forgotten too.

“Happy Valentine’s, Eds,” said Steve brightly as he hopped into the passenger seat, handing over the bag.

Eddie looked into it and found an assortment of a few of his favourite things. A heavy metal magazine, red twizzlers, a pack of smokes, even some new guitar strings. Ah shit, this was perfect. Eddie felt like hell.

“You don’t have the right guitar for those yet though,” Steve pointed out and sure enough, on closer inspection they were nylon acoustic strings and not the steel kind Eddie used for his electric guitar.

“That’s ok it’s not- Wait, yet?” asked Eddie.

Steve looked giddy as he handed over a piece of paper. It was a receipt of sale and Eddie gawped at it in silence for almost a full five minutes. Steve bought him the guitar he’s been staring at in the window. The note on the bottom said he could pick it up tomorrow.

“This is for-”

“Sure is”

“-that I’ve wanted for months-”

“Sure have”

“-is this for real?”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Yes Eddie it’s for real,” said Steve with a sigh. “You’ve been talking about that thing in your sleep, figured this might make you shut up about it,”

“I will never shut up about this,” said Eddie, still staring at the receipt.

Another moment passed and Steve very politely and gently cleared his throat. Eddie snapped back to reality. Steve’s eyes went wide as Eddie kicked into action. He pulled his jacket off his shoulders and threw it at him. He reached down and tugged his shoes off, threw them at Steve too. All the rings on his hands came next, then his belt, and the keys for the van hit Steve squarely in the chest with a light thud.

“Take it,” he mumbled, adding his socks to the growing pile on Steve’s lap. “All of it,”

Steve let out a confused laugh.

“Eddie what the hell are you doing?” he asked, incredulous.

“You can have the trailer too,” said Eddie, fishing candy wrappers from his pockets and deciding if they were Steve worthy. “Wayne will understand,”

Steve laughed properly now.

“What are you talking about, baby?”

“This!” shrieked Eddie, now halfway out of his t-shirt, waving around the receipt for the guitar. “I can’t compete with this! I can’t give you anything like this, so just-” Eddie’s voice got muffled as his shirt got stuck over his head. “-take everything,”

He flung the piece of clothing and Steve’s head and started to unzip his jeans.

“Whoa whoa whoa!” said Steve, shaking with laughter now as he grabbed Eddie’s wrist. “Put your clothes back on, this isn’t a competition,”

“You’re only saying that because you won,” said Eddie with narrowed eyes.

Steve began to hand Eddie back all the things that had been hurled at him over the last frantic few minutes.

“I don’t need anything from you,” said Steve softly. “Especially not week-old candy wrappers,”

Eddie snatched back his socks.

“I don’t….” He said, embarrassed. “I don’t have anything though…”

Steve chuckled.

“So you can buy me dinner instead,” he told Eddie, reaching over to squeeze his thigh. “Now hurry up and take the rest of your shit back so you can bring me home,”

Eddie nodded solemnly and took each item back as it was given to him. He slipped his t shirt back over his head and when he looked at Steve for the last of his rings, he was holding Eddie’s favourite skull ring between his fingers. It was the only one that was big enough to fit Steve. A plan formed quickly, so organically that Eddie was shocked it hadn’t occurred to him before right now. It…was perfect honestly. It wasn’t like he’d never thought about it before, it just never felt like a good time and… Oh yeah, this was definitely the excuse he needed to just do it

“How ‘bout you keep that one, at least?” suggested Eddie. “Make me feel like I’m not a total failure today,”

“You’re not a failure,” said Steve, rolling his eyes again. “But fine, yes, I’m keeping this one,”

Eddie smiled and held out his hand to take one of Steve’s.

“Well then allow me,” he said, taking the ring. Steve offered up his right hand, and Eddie promptly swatted it away. “Other one,”

Steve’s eyebrow raised higher as he hesitantly gave Eddie his left hand.

“Seriously?” asked Steve, suspicious and amused.

“Unless you’d prefer the right hand?”

“No, no, left works,” said Steve quickly, taking his hand back to wipe off any sweat onto his jeans.

Steve shook out his hand and quickly smoothed down his hair. He plucked a stray starburst wrapper from his shoulder and flicked it to the ground. He settled himself comfortably facing Eddie and placed his left hand in Eddie’s waiting palm.

Eddie slotted the ring onto Steve’s third finger and gave it a little pat once it rested snugly against his knuckle, before bringing it up to his mouth and kissing it. A tiny squeak escaped Steve’s mouth.

“How’s that?” asked Eddie with a smile.

“Just what I wanted,” said Steve, looking like he was on cloud nine, and leaning over to kiss him.

#this was supposed to be two paragraphs long #what did this turn into #your honour they’re in love #steddie #steddie valentine’s #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #stranger things #steve stranger things #steve x eddie #headcanon #steddie ficlet #seth writes

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seungfl0wer · 3 months ago

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*𝑰𝒕𝒔 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑬𝒏𝒅?*

Pairing: Chan x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Angst (small suggestive)

Warnings: Arguing, slightly suggestive, slight mentions of squirting, Slight happy ending. Sorry for any mistakes or missing warnings.

This came from 2 requests you can find here

-🖤

Knocking on your boyfriend’s door you hear him grumbling as he makes his way to the door. “Yeah?” He says seemingly annoyed at you interrupted his work.

“Babe come on you’ve been working for hours, can’t you just take a break?” You pleaded.

“No. I have alot to do still” he said.

“Chris please? I’ve barely saw you since you got back from the work trip.”

“Y/n I said I can’t. I have work to do. Stop bothering me ok?” He said before shutting the door.

It’s been like this for the past month or so. Honestly from the past few months you can count on one hand how many times he’s spent time with you. It’s been eating at you lately. Feeling like you’re a bother, like he just doesn’t love you anymore. You’ve tried to understand and you have for the most part. His job is taxing and demanding however he use to make time for you. Now it just seems like you’re an after thought.

You let out a big sigh before knocking again. He ignored it. So you knocked again. He swung open the door glaring at you eyes looking like they could kill. “I told you to leave me alone” he hissed.

“Christopher. You use to make time for us. You use to take breaks and would unwind with me. Why can’t you do that anymore huh?” You said not backing down this time.

“Y/n I can’t make time for you and be a good bread winner there’s no way.” He retorted back.

“So what then? I don’t ever get to spend time with you? Your jobs always gonna come first?” You spat.

“YES.” He said bluntly. You could see the vein popping from his forehead.

“So what’s the fucking point of dating then huh? It’s like we’re fucking roommates.” You said with a small croak. You felt like you could cry.

He looked at you, you could tell he was angry but was it for your words or because you were taking precious time away from his work. “Then maybe we should just end things” he said coldly towards you. Before you could get another word in he shut the door. You felt the tears pricking at your eyes before turning toward the bedroom. 3 years. 3 years down the fucking drain.

You cried grabbing a few things and throwing them in a bag. You called your friend up knowing they had an extra room. When he came to pick you up he was about ready to walk into that house and give Chan a piece of his mind but you talked him out of it. He sped off to the apartment. “I can’t believe that fucking asshole” he said gritting his teeth. “Who fucking-“ his hands gripping the steering wheel. “Who fucking does that shit with someone theyre supposed to love”

When you got to his place you plopped yourself into the spare room asking for some space. Your mind floated around with all the happy times you had. Smiling a bit remember how when you first met he was so shy. Fumbling over his words when he asked you out. Remembering how you made the first move to kiss him how red his ears got when you did. How he was the first one to say I love you and all the good morning texts you had saved full of love.

You remembered the first time you were intimate. How he was so nervous, afraid he couldn’t make you feel good. Only to have you trembling under him after making you squirt for the first time ever in your life. He was so proud of himself. He didn’t even care he only lasted a few minutes.

You can’t believe it was all over. All the words he had said all the talks about getting married and such just tossed like garbage. Was it really that easy to toss you to the side like that? Were you the reason he became distant?

A few days had passed before you went back. Knowing Chan was gonna be working you took the opportunity to take the rest of your stuff. Leaving anything he had gotten you there. You didn’t notice though he was home. His office was doing work from home today to try and catch up on something’s. With the last box in your hand making your way towards the door you were greeted by Chan coming out from the room. His eyes widened when he saw you. You made no effort to say anything just walking past him.

“Y/n” he said walking behind you.

“What” you said coldly slipping your shoes back on.

“I- listen I’m sorry for how I handled things.” He said looking down at your box. “Wait are you moving your stuff out?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You said bluntly before opening the door. “You’ll have all the time in the world now. Take care of yourself Chan.” You said before leaving.

He stood there his mouth gaped open. He couldn’t believe things were really ending. He didn’t think you’d actually leave. Here he was though, nothing left of you. He through himself into his work even more now. Keeping himself busy. He couldn’t believe he did this. He let the best thing of his life go. No. No. This is what he wanted. He could do so much more with out the worry of you around now. Or that’s at least what he told himself.

You on the other hand worked on yourself. You got yourself out there. You got a raise at your job and moved up in positions. You moved from your friend’s place to a nice little house. You were thriving.

A few months into being here you found comfort in your neighbors. They were all so kind and sweet always sharing food together and having get togethers. That’s what brings you to now. You had accident fallen for the man who lived right beside you. Neither of you intentionally tried to but you both just connected so well. He was so kind, so down to earth. He was a big ceo of his job. Passed down to him from his father however by looking at him you’d never think that.

He didn’t show off his wealth. He was just a normal guy who liked to come to your place and make dinner with you while you played stupid trivia games. When he finally asked you out he knew you’d be hesitant telling you “you don’t have to say yes right now but just do it in the next few days so I can tell my dad I finally did it” he said his cheeks all pink.

When you finally did say yes though he was over the moon. As if you just said I do to him on your wedding day. You scoffed to yourself seeing how he always made time for you. He rarely ever said no to you even pushing back meetings to do little things with you. He was so love struck by you.

Chan on the other hand missed you a lot. He’d now and again take your pillow cuddling into it as if it was you. Fuck. He missed you. He tried dating but no one had that spark he felt with you those years ago. Where did he go wrong?

Today was you and your boyfriend’s first year anniversary. He brought you to the carnival one of the places you both loved to come. He always loved winning you prizes trying his best to get you every single one you wanted. He also just loved having you clinging to him around so many people. It filled him with pride to have everyone know you were his. “Hey beautiful I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick ok? Will you order for me?” He said with a smile kissing you softly. You nodded as he walked away.

Chan couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you standing in line. Was it really you? He has only come here because of his friends trying to get him out. He grumbled the whole time however seeing you he perked up. “Y/n?” He said softly.

Your head spun to meet his gaze looking at him with almost sadness. He didn’t look like he’d taken care of himself. His once perfect hair all messy, clothes not as neat as they use to be. You could tell he’s lost weight too.

“Oh hi Chris.” You said

“Hey it’s been awhile. What uhm brings you here?” He asked trying to make small talk.

Before you answered the lady asked for your order. As you gave it to her Chan seemed a bit confused at what you ordered. You always hated corn dogs, why were you getting one?

Chan ordered standing off to the side as you both waited.

“It’s nice to see you again” he said softly.

“Yeah, nice to see you too” you said.

Your boyfriend was making his way back towards you. He smiled that big goofy smile of his before slinking his arm around you.

“Look what I found” he said grinning ear to ear as he pulled out a stuffed animal you’ve been searching for.

“No fucking way!” You said smiling you gave him a big hug as he kissed the top of your head.

“Anything for my love” he said.

Chan watched his stomach twisting as he realized you had moved on. Something also clicked in his head. “You’re the CEO of big name right?” He said his voice sounding surprised.

“Oh yeah” he chuckled. “That’s me”

Chan looked at him and back at you “how are you here? Aren’t you like swamped with work?” He asked.

Your boyfriend chuckled some more “nah and even if I was I wouldn’t miss today for the world.” He said squeezing you softly.

“Today’s our year anniversary, so I took the whole week off, even moved meetings just so I could give this pretty lady all my attention” he said. If he would have know who he was talking to he’d probably yell at him for what he did however you didn’t want to be the bear of bad news.

“Oh oh babe I’m gonna grab a shake meet me by the table yeah? I’ll get your favorite” he said kissing you once more before strolling off.

“So there’s really no chance we could get back together is there” Chan blurted out.

You felt a bit confused “Chris. I think you need to focus on yourself before you can ever think about dating again.”

“So there’s a chance we could?” He said hopeful.

“I’m sorry Chris. But I’m happy. He makes time for me. He doesn’t make me feel like a burden”

The lady calls out your order, you grab it before walking away you look at him one more time. “I’m sorry Chris, a part of me of course will always love you however we don’t mix well. Please just take care of yourself ok?” You said before walking away.

He felt a pit in his stomach like he wanted to vomit. He couldn’t believe how happy you looked I mean you were glowing. Your boyfriend seemed to be so secure proving him wrong about being able to make time. He cursed at himself but he knew you didn’t want him back you’ve made that pretty clear through the months. He was just sad he was to late that this was really the end. He watched as you smiled and laughed. Although the pit in his stomach stayed he felt a bit of happiness knowing you were being taken care of. Something he should have done better of.

Your words although same as before rung in his head. ‘Take care of yourself’ he realized he hasn’t been. He realized he hasn’t even had time to properly think. He felt a sense of acceptance as he took his food and left. He was gonna work on himself. Make himself the man he was before, before he was consumed by his work.

“Did you know that guy?” Your boyfriend ask.

You nod “yeah, just someone I use to know”

“Hmm well he better not try and steal you away or I’ll fight” he teased lifting his fists up.

It made you laugh. Although you’ll always love Chan. You couldn’t ask for anyone better. Your boyfriend would move the world for you if it meant you’d be happy. And you were. You were so happy.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp

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javierpenaismyhusband · 4 months ago

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Unspoken Heat

Pairing: Joel Miller x M!reader

Summary: Joel and you have always kept things casual—just two people who see each other around the building. But one night, when they share a cigarette, the conversation takes a turn. What starts as playful teasing grows into something deeper, and the chemistry between them becomes impossible to ignore. Joel, usually guarded and distant, begins to open up, and both are forced to face the unspoken tension that’s been simmering between them all along.

Warnings: 18+. Not use of Y/N, big fight, unprotected PIA, fingering, blow job, anal, smut.

"This is my first FanFict so pls dont hate and give some advice, i dont know what warnings to put so help me with that too and i hope you like it!!!"

You and Joel were never that close. You talked almost daily, but only because you lived in the same building. You didn't particularly like him—or at least, that’s what you wanted him to think, though sometimes you weren’t even sure yourself. There were moments, like when you went outside for a smoke, and you'd find him there too, just drinking a beer and watching the stars. As he exhaled smoke into the cool night air, you couldn’t help but notice how good he looked—his green button-up shirt paired with dark blue jeans and those rugged Dr. Martens. He was effortlessly attractive, but he didn’t need to know that.

One evening, you realized you were out of cigarettes. With no other option, you decided to ask him for one.

“Hey, Joel.”

He glanced at you, raising an eyebrow. “What now?”

“Why so grouchy tonight?”

He exhaled smoke, giving you a sideways look. “Maybe because I can’t get a moment of peace with you hanging around.”

You smirked. “Aw, don’t be such a grump, old man.”

“Old man? Watch it, kid.”

“Or what?” you teased, leaning in slightly.

He narrowed his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile. “Don’t push your luck.”

“Ooh, real scary.” You chuckled. “Seriously though, got a cigarette?”

He looked you up and down, shaking his head. “I don’t give smokes to twelve-year-olds.”

You rolled your eyes. “Twelve? You might need to check your eyesight.”

He sighed and pulled out a cigarette, handing it over. “Just take it and shut up.”

“Thanks, I’ll get out of your hair now. Good night, Joel.”

Joel hesitated, then muttered, “You don’t have to go.”

You paused, surprised. “I thought you wanted to be left alone.”

He shrugged, eyes on the stars again. “Yeah, well... some company wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

You took a drag from the cigarette, watching the smoke drift into the night air. Joel was quiet, sipping his beer, eyes fixed somewhere above the horizon. You didn’t know him well—just the guy who always hung around outside, never too friendly but never outright cold either. Still, something about him tonight felt different.

“Hey, Joel, you alright?” you asked, your voice a little hesitant.

He didn’t answer at first, just kept staring ahead. You figured maybe he didn’t hear you, but something in his stillness felt like he was deliberately avoiding your question.

“Joel?” you tried again, nudging him out of whatever thoughts had him zoned out.

He glanced at you briefly, then back to his beer. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he muttered, voice flat.

You took another drag, unsure if you should push further, but something about his demeanor made you curious. “You sure? You’ve been kinda quiet tonight. Not that you’re usually chatty, but...”

He exhaled sharply, not quite a laugh but more like a noise of annoyance. “I said I’m fine. Why’re you asking?”

“I don’t know... just thought you might wanna talk,” you replied, trying to keep your tone casual.

He turned to look at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “We don’t talk, though. You only come around when you need something.”

The bluntness caught you off guard. “I mean, we live in the same building. We see each other around. Just thought... you know, maybe it’d be cool to actually get to know you.”

Joel let out a dry laugh. “Yeah? And why’s that? You suddenly interested in your neighbors now?”

You frowned, feeling a little defensive. “I’m just trying to be decent. You don’t have to bite my head off for asking.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I appreciate the concern or whatever, but I’m not looking for a heart-to-heart. Just trying to enjoy my beer in peace.”

“Right,” you said, feeling a little stupid for even bringing it up. “Sorry for asking.”

There was a pause. You stood there awkwardly, the weight of the conversation hanging between you. You tried to shake it off, but the tension lingered.

“Why do you care, anyway?” he asked suddenly, catching you off guard again. His tone wasn’t angry this time, just... curious.

You shrugged, not sure how to answer. “I don’t know. You seem... I don’t know. Different tonight. I thought maybe something was bothering you.”

Joel stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he turned away, taking another sip of his beer. “Nothing you need to worry about,” he said quietly.

You didn’t respond, just stood there feeling like the conversation had reached a dead end. It was clear Joel wasn’t going to open up, at least not tonight.

“Alright, well,” you said, stubbing out your cigarette on the ground. “I’ll let you get back to your beer. Good night, Joel.”

Without waiting for a response, you turned and made your way back to your apartment, the cool air doing little to calm the mess of thoughts swirling in your head. Once inside, you shut the door behind you and leaned against it, staring blankly at the wall.

You couldn’t believe what had just happened. It wasn’t like you to push someone like that, especially Joel. You barely knew him, and yet, something about him always got under your skin—not in a bad way, though. In fact, it was the complete opposite.

You ran a hand through your hair, replaying the conversation in your mind. You knew you’d come off a little harsh, but it wasn’t because you disliked him. Quite the contrary, really. Maybe you’d pushed because you wanted to get through that tough exterior, see what was underneath. But clearly, Joel wasn’t in the mood.

Just as you started to convince yourself to let it go, a knock echoed through the room, breaking your thoughts. You froze, listening to see if you’d imagined it. Then, another knock—firm, deliberate.

Your heart raced as you crossed the room and opened the door. And there he was—Joel, standing in the dim hallway, beer still in hand, his expression unreadable.

You blinked, surprised. “Joel?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing down the hallway before looking at you. “Yeah, I uh... I didn’t mean to be a dick earlier.”

You opened the door a little wider, still not sure where this was going. “You weren’t... I mean, maybe a little,” you added with a half-smile.

Joel let out a small huff of a laugh, barely there, but it softened his features just a bit. “Look, I don’t usually... talk. About stuff. To people.”

“I kind of got that impression,” you said, leaning against the doorframe.

He shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable but still standing there, which meant something. “But you didn’t deserve me snapping at you like that. I guess I just wasn’t ready for... whatever that was.”

You weren’t sure what to say, so you nodded, keeping it simple. “It’s fine. Really.”

He glanced away, his voice quieter when he spoke again. “Anyway... I’m sorry.”

The apology caught you off guard. For a moment, you both stood there, the silence stretching but not in an uncomfortable way this time. It felt like a truce, an unspoken agreement to meet somewhere in the middle.

“Want to come in?” you offered, gesturing toward the inside of your apartment.

Joel hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

You stepped aside to let him in, closing the door behind him as he walked into the room, still holding his beer like it was a shield. You both sat down, and for the first time, it didn’t feel like you were talking to the guy from your building. It felt like you were talking to Joel.

As you both sat there, the weight of silence felt deliberate, like each of you was testing the other, waiting for the next move. Joel’s eyes flickered around your apartment, but his body language had shifted—less guarded, more curious. You took another slow drag of your cigarette, blowing the smoke out deliberately, watching how it mingled in the dim light.

“So,” you said, breaking the silence, but your voice was softer now, almost playful. “You always this charming when you apologize, or do I just bring it out of you?”

Joel’s lips twitched, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Charming? That’s a new one.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back in your chair. “Oh, come on. You’re not fooling me. The whole ‘brooding guy with the beer and the stare’ thing—you know what you’re doing.”

He glanced at you, his smirk deepening. “And what’s that?”

You exhaled slowly, giving him a knowing look. “Being impossible to ignore.”

Joel let out a short laugh, shaking his head as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You think I’m trying to get your attention?”

You shrugged, taking another drag. “You’re doing a damn good job if you’re not.”

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing, like he was finally taking in the shift in your tone. There was something different now, a subtle game you both seemed to be playing—except it didn’t feel like a game at all.

“You’re a lot bolder than you look,” Joel said, his voice quieter, his eyes tracing the curve of your face.

You met his gaze without flinching. “Maybe I’ve been waiting for you to notice.”

For the first time, Joel didn’t have a quick reply. His eyes lingered on you, and something unspoken passed between you—an understanding, maybe, or a challenge. He shifted in his seat, running a hand through his hair like he was buying time, but the flicker of uncertainty in his expression only lasted a second before it was gone.

“Is that what this is?” he asked, his voice low, almost a murmur. “You waiting for me?”

You smirked, holding his gaze. “I don’t wait for anyone, Joel. But I don’t mind a chase.”

The words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, he seemed to be weighing them. His fingers idly traced the rim of his beer bottle, but his attention was fixed on you, like he was trying to figure out what you really wanted—or maybe what he wanted.

“And what happens if I catch you?” Joel asked, his voice soft but with an edge, like he was pushing to see just how far this could go.

You leaned in slightly, the distance between you shrinking, your voice dropping to match his. “Maybe I’m the one doing the catching.”

Joel’s breath hitched almost imperceptibly, but he didn’t back down. His eyes darkened, the playful banter giving way to something much more intense. The way he looked at you now wasn’t casual or teasing; it was deliberate, like he was seeing you in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to before.

“You don’t scare easy, do you?” he asked, his voice rougher, more serious now.

“Do you want me to?” you shot back, your tone laced with challenge.

Joel’s smirk faded into something heavier, his eyes locked on yours. “Maybe I do.”

The air between you buzzed, thick with unspoken things, desire crackling just beneath the surface. Joel leaned forward, just slightly, his knees brushing yours. The movement was subtle, but it sent a jolt through you, making your pulse quicken.

“I don’t know what it is about you,” Joel murmured, his gaze never wavering from yours. “But you’ve been getting under my skin.”

You gave a slow, deliberate smile. “Oh, I’ve noticed.”

Joel exhaled sharply through his nose, a sound somewhere between frustration and amusement. He leaned back, running a hand through his hair again, his eyes never leaving you.

“You’re trouble,” he said, but there was no bite to his words—only a simmering heat.

You tilted your head, letting your gaze linger on him. “I think you like trouble more than you let on.”

He didn’t deny it. Instead, he leaned forward again, closer this time, the space between you shrinking to almost nothing. The way his eyes lingered on your lips sent a shiver down your spine, and suddenly, you weren’t sure if the teasing had been a game at all—or if it had been leading to this the entire time.

“Maybe I do,” Joel said, his voice barely above a whisper.

The tension between you was palpable now, electric, like you were both waiting for the other to make the next move. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the closeness making every breath feel more intense, more charged.

You leaned in, your voice soft but unwavering. “Then what are you going to do about it?”

Joel’s eyes flicked up to meet yours, and for a moment, everything seemed to hang in the balance. His breath was shallow, his fingers gripping the edge of his beer bottle like he was trying to ground himself. But when he spoke, his voice was steady, filled with an intent that made your heart race.

“Depends,” he said, his tone low, almost dangerous. “Are you sure you’re ready for what happens next?”

Your pulse quickened, the anticipation building, but you held his gaze, unflinching. “I’ve been ready.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. The tension between you was so thick it was almost suffocating, like the room was too small to hold whatever was happening between you. But you didn’t want to break the moment. If anything, you wanted to push it further, to see just how far this thing with Joel could go.

He leaned in, just a fraction closer, and you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin. His voice was low, barely a murmur, but it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Then maybe we should stop pretending,” Joel whispered.

And with that, the last wall between you crumbled.

Joel's words hung in the air as he leaned in, lips brushing against yours. The kiss started slow, tentative, but it quickly deepened, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, and you couldn't help but moan softly into his mouth. His hands found their way to your hips, pulling you closer, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, losing yourself in the moment.

The kisses grew more passionate, more urgent, as if they were making up for lost time. Joel's hands roamed up your back, tangling in your hair, and you arched into his touch, needing more. His lips trailed down your jawline, leaving a line of tender kisses in their wake, and you gasped as he sucked gently on your earlobe.

Pulling back slightly, Joel looked at you with hooded eyes, his breathing ragged. "Are you sure you want this?" he asked, his voice rough with desire.

You nodded, unable to speak, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. You felt alive in a way you hadn't in a long time, like every nerve ending was on fire. Joel's lips curled into a smirk before he claimed your mouth once again, his tongue dancing with yours in a sensuous tango.

As their kisses grew deeper, more intense, Joel's hand found its way down to your waistband, tracing soft circles over your skin. You moaned into his mouth, needing him to touch you more, and he pulled back just enough to reach down and undo your jeans.

Joel's hand wrapped around your hard cock, stroking it slowly, and you let out a groan of pleasure. The sensation of his warm hand on your skin was exquisite, and you couldn't help but thrust your hips forward, needing more.

Leaning in, Joel placed a gentle kiss on your jawline, his breath hot against your skin. "You're so fucking beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, and you reached down to unfasten his jeans, eager to feel his cock against you. As you pulled down his zipper, Joel helped you out of your own pants, and soon you were both naked from the waist down.

You reached for Joel again, pulling him close, and he wrapped his arms around you, their chests pressed tightly together. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and it only made you more turned on.

Without breaking the kiss, Joel guided you back towards the couch, your bodies moving in perfect sync. You felt him nudge your legs apart, and then he was between them, his hands exploring your body with a possessive hunger.

His fingers teased your entrance, circling around your entrance before slipping inside, and you gasped into his mouth at the feeling. He thrust his fingers in and out, finding your prostate with each stroke, and you moaned loudly, arching your back.

Joel pulled away from the kiss, his eyes blazing with lust. "You like that?" he asked, his voice husky.

You nodded, unable to speak, your heart racing. You wanted him to take you, to claim you completely.

The room was dim, the only light coming from a single candle flickering on the bedside table. The scent of incense hung in the air, mingling with the musk of sweat and desire. You could feel the heat radiating between you and Joel, your bodies pressed close together. His breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, "Tell me what you want."

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest. The tension between you was electrifying, but you knew exactly what you desired. "I want you," you said, your voice trembling with anticipation. "I want you to take me."

Joel's eyes darkened with hunger as he pulled back slightly, his fingers still buried inside you. He leaned down and captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep into your mouth as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you. The sensation was overwhelming, and you moaned into his mouth, your hips bucking against his hand.

"God, you feel so good," Joel breathed, pulling away from the kiss. His eyes were wild with lust as he looked down at you, his hand still working its magic on your prostate. "Let's see how you like this."

Joel murmured, his eyes lingering on your erection. He leaned forward, his breath warm against your shaft as he took you into his mouth. The sensation was electric, sending shockwaves through your body. You gasped and arched your back, gripping the sheets tightly as Joel began to suck you off.

His lips were soft and velvety, his tongue moving expertly along the underside of your cock. He took you deep into his mouth, his throat muscles contracting around you in a way that made your toes curl. You could feel the pressure building in your balls, the climax hovering just out of reach.

"Joel," you groaned, your voice thick with pleasure. "I'm gonna—"

But Joel didn't let you finish. He pulled off your cock with a wet pop, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he looked up at you. "Not yet," he said, his voice low and husky. "I want more than just a blowjob."

Before you could react, Joel moved up your body, positioning himself above you. He reached down and grabbed his own cock, guiding it to your entrance. You felt a mixture of fear and excitement as he lined himself up, his tip pressing against your hole.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice brimming with anticipation.

You nodded, your breath hitching in your throat. "Yes," you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest.

With one swift motion, Joel thrust into you, filling you completely. The initial burn was intense, but it quickly gave way to a wave of pleasure as he began to move, stroking his cock in and out of you with slow, deliberate thrusts. You gasped and clutched at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he continued to fuck you.

"Oh God," you moaned, your voice breaking as the pleasure intensified. Joel's thrusts grew harder and faster, driving you closer and closer to the edge. You could feel your prostate being hit with each powerful stroke, sending jolts of ecstasy through your body.

"Look at you," Joel growled, his voice rough with primal need. "Taking me so well. You love this, don't you?"

You could only nod, too lost in the sensations to form words. Joel's rhythm was relentless, each thrust pushing you further towards your impending orgasm. You could feel your balls tightening, the cum churning inside you, desperate to be released.

"I'm gonna come," you panted, your voice shaky with desperation. "Please, Joel—"

But Joel had other plans. He pulled out of you abruptly, leaving you gasping and teetering on the brink of release.

"Not yet," he said again, his voice commanding. "I want to fill you first."

He positioned himself back at your entrance, and with one final, forceful thrust, he drove himself deep inside you. You cried out as he claimed you, his cock hitting your prostate with perfect precision. The sensation was overwhelming, and you could feel the cum boiling up from your balls, ready to explode.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come," Joel growled, his thrusts growing erratic as he approached his own climax. "Take it all, baby. Take every last drop."

As if on cue, you felt Joel's cock twitch inside you, followed by the hot rush of his cum flooding your insides. The feeling was indescribable, a surge of euphoria that pushed you over the edge.

"Joel!" you screamed, your body spasming as you came, your cum shooting out and landing on his chest in thick, white ribbons.

The sight of your release seemed to drive Joel even further, and he continued to thrust hard into you, his own orgasm wracking his body as he emptied himself inside you. You could feel the warmth spreading within you, the proof of his dominance and the depth of your submission.

As his movements finally slowed, Joel collapsed on top of you, his breath ragged and hot against your neck. You could feel his heartbeat pounding against your chest, a symphony of passion and exertion. The room was filled with the sounds of your labored breathing and the heavy thudding of your hearts.

For a moment, there was silence, the world reduced to just the two of you and the aftermath of your shared ecstasy. Then, Joel lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours. There was something in his gaze, something raw and needy, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

"What now?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel smiled, a slow, wicked grin that sent a thrill through you. "Now," he said, his voice dark and low, "we clean up."

He shifted slightly, allowing you to sit up, and then turned his attention to the mess on his chest. His fingers scooped up some of your cum, bringing it to his lips. You watched, mesmerized, as he licked it clean, his eyes never leaving yours. The sight was both erotic and strangely intimate, and you felt a fresh wave of arousal pooling in your belly.

"Your turn," Joel said, his tone playful yet commanding.

Without hesitation, you leaned in, licking the remaining cum from his chest. The taste was salty and tangy, a reminder of the explosive orgasm you'd just shared. As you cleaned him, your lips brushed against his skin, and you couldn't resist stealing a quick kiss.

Joel's arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with the same intensity he'd shown earlier. The kiss was filled with promise, a silent agreement that this was far from over.

"What next, my love?" Joel whispered against your lips, his voice a seductive purr.

You could feel the power in his question, the implied control he held over you. And you reveled in it, eager to submit to whatever he had in mind.

"Anything," you replied, your voice trembling with anticipation. "Just tell me what you want."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x male reader #top Joel miller #bottom reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #Joel Miller #Joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedrohub #pedro pascal x male reader #the last of us fanfiction

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sbdskate · 1 year ago

Text

Laws Of Attraction (Part 10) - DR x lawyer!fem!reader

Summary: McLaren is in breach of contract, dr3 hires a lawyer to deal with the aftermath. Tropes ensue. Slow burn. Enemies(kind of) -> Friends/colleagues -> Lovers

Pairing: lawyer!fem!reader x Daniel Ricciardo

Warnings (18+): sickening amount of fluff, language, angst, *SMUT*: oral (m + f receiving), fingering, hand job, p in v, overstimulation if you blink

Word Count: 6,892

A/N: If you’re here, congratulations! You made it to the end. A big thank you to everyone that has commented, shared, liked, etc. I can’t believe it’s been over a year since my first post. I had a vision when I started writing this in the middle of the 2022 season, not quite sure where it would lead, but I’m happy with where it landed and I hope you are too. I hope you like wine with your cheese, because this is ~cheesy~. Also, this is my first time writing smut so (1) if you are a minor please do not proceed; (2) if you do like/read smut, I would appreciate any kind of feedback. A big thank you to @cutelittlefakejourneys and @burningcupcakefire for beta-ing. Thank you @paddockbunny, @monzabee, and @silverstonesainz for the insights and words of encouragement. As always, thank you for reading.

Daniel paced the hallway. He wasn’t accustomed to not getting what he wanted. Sure, in the last few months he had had his fair share of disappointments, but this was different. He was tempted to knock on your door until you answered, but thought the better of it.

He played through the moment in his head again, no different than analyzing a post-race debrief. What went wrong and how could he improve? He was professional during the signing. He knew you loved Geri, you only casually brought up Ginger Spice in conversation no less than a dozen times over the last few months. He knew you’d love to actually meet her – who knows, if everything went well it certainly wouldn’t be the last time for you. He didn’t force himself on you – at this point he knew you were like a cat and he needed to wait for you to come to him or else he’d scare you off. It seemed like the only thing keeping you from ripping each other’s clothes off was your job. Or so he thought.

Now he was confused. It was clear you hadn’t meant to say what you said – but you said it. I could kiss you. Can’t put the toothpaste back in the tube. Four words that looped in his brain. He had spent so much time dissecting the meaning of the word “could,” he felt like he could be a lawyer too. But he had taken his time closing the space between you in the hallway. When he leaned in, you leaned in too. You had ample time to tell him off if he had misconstrued the whole thing, and he would never think less of you if you did, but you didn’t.

No, what just happened was not a rejection. You were just skittish. Like a cat hiding under a bed, you just needed to be coaxed out – slowly. You were food motivated, he’d learned that about you during your first outing in Belgium when you put down more bon bons than he thought was humanly possible. Yes, all you needed was to be approached with patience and understanding - and maybe the promise of a full belly.

You leaned against the door and squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassment already crashing over you like a tidal wave. You knew you were being ridiculous and immature. What was it that you were still afraid of?

You stripped off your suit immediately, it felt stuffy and heavy as you overheated, the reminder of your attorney-client relationship falling to the floor. You threw on the first thing you grabbed out of your bag - why did it have to be that pesky yellow dress again?

You paced your room for what felt like hours. Your professional activities with Daniel had officially come to its natural conclusion and yet you were still hesitant to move forward. It didn’t help that you were in a country that banned the cohabitation of unmarried couples, so really, what were you even going to do?

Despite the confessions exchanged back in Mexico and the kiss in Brazil, it was never guaranteed that anything would actually happen once Daniel’s legal affairs were settled. Frankly, you still weren’t fully convinced the conversations ever actually happened. You refused to believe the lingering stares and little touches that lasted a little too long were anything more than pure coincidence.

In spite of all of it, you remained unconvinced about how Daniel actually felt about you. Over the years of failed relationships and first dates that ranged from awkward to bad, you had grown wary and skeptical of romantic pursuits. For all you knew, all his lip-service was simply an elaborate ruse to get in your pants. You thought on this worst case scenario, which really wasn’t so bad. God forbid you have one night stand with a Formula 1 driver and live to tell the tale. It would be a lie to say you wouldn’t be hurt at first if you were correct, but you would eventually be fine. You had been happily single and independent for years, it would simply be a return to your de facto state.

And even if you could take him at his word, you couldn’t help but wonder what that relationship would look like when you had to resume work for other clients and the luxury of constant travel and proximity ceased. How would you continue to keep in touch? How often would you actually be able to see each other in person? Your first relationship was with The Firm, and you knew you weren’t ready to give up your livelihood for him. Then there was the other issue of paparazzi and tabloids - the forced spotlight that would fall on you, resulting in the lack of privacy and anonymity. You had no desire for fame, yet he seemed to be designed for it. You could go toe-to-toe with opposing counsel any day, but you weren’t sure you had his mental fortitude to withstand the cruel and unsolicited opinions of strangers on the internet.

You weighed the pros and cons over and over again in your head. For someone with such a demanding job, it made no sense that it all felt so overwhelming and complicated. But it was telling that the Australian was the first person you wanted to confide in. He was the only one who could ever quiet the constant hurricane in your mind that caused you to spiral if left unchecked. In this moment, you needed him to ground you.

You had been raised to leave hotel room minibars alone unless you wanted to bankrupt you and your entire family for two generations. Going against everything you believed, you took a nip from the stock. Hoping the small amount of liquid courage would do the trick, you checked your reflection in the mirror one last time before venturing to the room next door. You would simply have to assume the risk of the unknown aftermath.

With shaking hands, you opened the door only to be met with Daniel’s presence before you. He jumped slightly at the sudden movement. You did a poor job hiding your astonishment that left you frozen in place.

“Oh… hi?” Your eyes remained wide. He looked around and scratched the back of his head, appearing to be as surprised and confused as you were.

“Hi – I uh,” he took a moment to give you a once over. “I’m sorry are you about to go somewhere? You look nice.” You felt your face turn red immediately, the bravery you built up moments ago dissipating in an instance. He shifted his weight, quickly correcting himself. “Not that you don’t always look nice! I just – you look nicer than usual. I mean-” He seemed uncharacteristically nervous and was digging himself a hole. You looked around the hall to ensure it was empty and took a deep breath to save him from digging any deeper.

“Yes actually. I was going to see you.” He seemed surprised and relieved at the answer.

“No way, I was about to see you!” He shook his head when he saw you bite back a smile. “Obviously, I’ve been standing outside your door,” he laughed nervously, his confidence shrinking by the second. “Not for very long though! You didn’t need to know that. But I wanted to come to say I’m sorry about before, I was too forward back there. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just figured, you know, since we went pencils down and everything, maybe we could-”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Did I stutter?” You walked backwards as you took his hand, leading him through the doorway. He didn’t fight your lead.

“-you don’t know what I was going to ask.” You leaned back, allowing the door to click behind you under your weight.

“It doesn’t matter. The answer is yes.” You gave him a reassuring smile and gently squeezed his hand bringing him closer. “With you it will always be yes.” It seemed both of you were at a loss for words, but they were unnecessary as he took a step towards you closing the small gap that remained. His eyes were enchantingly curious as they gazed into yours. You only looked away for a millisecond, distracted by the tongue that broke free from his mouth to moisten his plump lips. You took a deep inhale in anticipation, your heartbeat bordering on palpitations as his lips closed in.

The moment they met yours, immediately you knew you never wanted boundaries with this man ever again. One hand cupped the side of your face while the other grabbed your waist to pull you closer. You wrapped your arms around his neck in an effort to eliminate any remaining iota of space between the two of you. Your lips danced and moved together in unison, neither of you wanting to come up for air. His firm calloused hands roamed your body, unsure of where to rest. There were so many parts of you he had never touched before and he wanted desperately to become acquainted with them as quickly as possible. He squeezed your shoulders, ran them down the lengths of your arms, moved to the small of your back up towards your neck, in your hair.

The feverishness of it all began to slow, as he tried to memorize every peak and valley. He reverently moved his hands from your waist, dragging them up the length of your spine, one hand finding its way to your hair as though he wanted to remember every hair follicle, the other keeping your body firmly pressed against his. The leisurely pace only teased you, and each spot he touched left your body buzzing. He slowly brought his other hand to find yours again, repositioning so your fingers interlocked. The sweet gesture felt suddenly sinful when he pinned them to the wall, dragging them up the door until they were next to your head. The motion made your head spin, warmth spreading between your thighs, and you inadvertently let out a soft moan.

Ravenous for more, he firmly pressed your bodies together against the door, almost knocking the wind out of you. He pulled away only for a moment, his eyes pleading.

Can I?

You nodded your head frantically, capturing his mouth once more while guiding his hands to the parts you desperately needed touched. One gently cupped your breast while the other roughly grabbed your ass, kneading the muscles underneath. You both groaned in unison at the new sensation.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to touch you,” he mouthed breathlessly before finding your neck, hoping the feeling was mutual. You didn’t say anything back, but he could tell from the pant of your breath and the pulse under his lips that it was. You threw your head back as he sucked, licked, and nipped at the sweet spot as he gently grazed his thumb over your bra, immediately feeling your nipple form into a stiff peak underneath. Being mindful of your noise level, you bit back a moan that ended up coming out as a pathetic whimper. You shamelessly pushed your hips against his and squeezed his hand on your breast, encouraging him to explore and desperate for more contact.

You instinctively widened your stance for him to perch himself between your legs. His hand played with the waistband of your underwear through your dress, trailing down to your inner upper thigh.

“Stop teasing,” you hissed. He only smiled into the kiss in response, his tongue pushing into your mouth to shut you up.

Your hands followed their own curious whims. Those pecs that you had gotten an eyeful of several times felt warm and firm under your touch. Your palm dragged down the ripples of his abs, gently landing over the front of his pants. You gasped feeling him harden under your touch for the first time, eliciting a low growl from him in return. His hips pushed forward in frustration, eager for more. You allowed him some relief, undoing his belt and pants, cautiously reaching inside. Your eyes widened.

“Holy shit,” you muttered as you grabbed around his length, your hand suddenly feeling quite small. He looked you dead in the eye, that familiar cocky smirk and twinkle returning to his face.

“Come on,” he flashed you a wicked grin. “You knew it had to be big.” You laughed at his boldness, which only inspired him to double down. “I know how to use it too.”

“That’s some awfully big talk.” You already had goosebumps from your head to your toes, but you weren’t going to let him know that just yet. You would make sure he worked for it. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“It’s not the only thing I know how to use.”

He captured your mouth in a gentle, chaste kiss as he used one hand to pull up the hem of your dress. His other hand snuck under the skirt, slowly dragging it across your skin. Rough and calloused from racing, they felt tantalizingly delicate.

“I was going to prove it, but it looks like I already convinced you.” He drew little spirals around your clit over your panties, barely applying any pressure. You bit your lip and looked up to the ceiling, praying for relief from the building tension. To your chagrin, his hand began to pull away.

“No. Please,” was all you could muster, your brain searching for more eloquent words that escaped you.

“Please what?” You reached for his crotch, hoping the action would suffice as an answer, but he grabbed your wrist to pin it to the door. “You have to use your words.” You felt the words on his breath that seeped through your skin.

“Please touch me.” Frustrated, you used your free hand to try to get him to fully take your dress off which was only getting in the way. He obliged, releasing your other hand to get a hold of the fabric. You put your arms up as he gathered the material over your head. Throwing the garment aside, he pulled away slightly to observe you for a moment. His eyes widening as they moved down your frame, trying and failing to hide his growing smirk.

“Do you always wear pretty underwear when you close a deal? Or are these for me?” He played with the pink lacy textile between his fingers, admiring how they accentuated the contour of your waist and hips.

“Both,” you gasped as he dragged a finger down your front. It passed over your clit, down to the fabric covering your entrance, smiling feeling how embarrassingly soaked you already were through the thin material.

With a chaste kiss on the cheek, he proceeded to leave a trail of kisses down your neck, chest, stomach, until he reached the hem of fabric. He continued over the garment, bypassing the spot he knew you needed him to your inner thigh. The gentle touches and the scruff of his beard almost tickled, panting as he moved down your body.

He looped his thumbs around the sides of your thong, pausing to look up hopefully for permission. You nodded with lidded, lustful eyes. He couldn’t hide his dimples and he continued to tease, dragging your panties slowly down your legs, taking care to pick up each foot to get you out of them. Your heart swelled as you observed him treating you so delicately, like a fragile porcelain doll. His trail of kisses started again from the bottom, beginning at your ankle, to the inside of your knee and again to your upper thigh until he reached an apex.

“Hold on.” You weren’t sure what he meant at first. Then without warning, he grabbed your hip and threw your opposite leg over his shoulder, finally diving into your center. Your hands instinctively found their way to his head to stabilize yourself, accidentally letting out a yelp in the process which soon after turned into a low moan as his tongue swirled slow circles around your clit. “You taste so fucking good,” he mumbled into your skin.

The vision of him on his knees fully clothed, contrasted with your nakedness enhanced his touch and sent you spiraling. Your hands raked through his gorgeous curls as he lapped you up. The pressure he applied gradually increased, culminating to him inserting a finger in you, then two. You slapped a hand over your mouth as the pressure pooled and he found his rhythm with his tongue and fingers. He knew you were close when your legs started to shake and squeezed around him. The waves came crashing over you as you bucked your hips erratically. He removed his fingers so that he could stabilize you, but his mouth never stopped.

He finally put your other leg back on the ground when your hips slowed and stood up. Your legs almost buckled from underneath you but he caught you before you could fall, lifting you to walk to the bed.

You watched him carry you wordlessly, your brain still short circuiting from your orgasm only knowing enough to wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. Not because you thought he’d drop you, but because you wanted to be as close to him as possible. It still wasn’t close enough.

He sat himself down on the bed with you landing in his lap, legs still wrapped tightly. There had never been a time where the two of you have been in the same room and exchanged so few words. You continued to stare at each other, simply amazed to be in the same space and sharing skin after three long anguished months of resisting forbidden fruit.

Your gaze fell to his swollen lips that you desperately wanted to taste again, still shiny with your essence. His hand pressed up your back until he grabbed a fistful of hair, bringing you in fervently for another kiss. It was the kind of kiss that enveloped you, that turned your legs to water and caused currents in you to flow creating bountiful energy that begged for release. Your hands roamed from his shoulders, down his chest and abs to the hem of his shirt. The two of you pried it off together and he threw it somewhere on the floor. Your mouths met again gluing your torsos together, your currents crashing in a tidal wave of electricity and emotion.

You unwrapped your legs to straddle him, lightly pushing him backwards. He pulled you with him as you both fell into the bed, smiling into each other and little giggles filling the air. You rolled your hips over him, annoyed with the layers that still separated you from the waist down. You reached down, sloppily pushing at his pants to demonstrate your displeasure. He understood your message, weaving his arms past you to finish the job and shimmying his legs until they were off. You reached down the waistband of his boxer briefs, teasing your fingertips just underneath but not going further. It thrilled you to feel his muscles tense underneath your touch. He nipped your bottom lip when your hand moved further south, and you could feel his jaw clench.

He pulled away suddenly, and you couldn’t place the look on his face which made you nervous.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! It’s just…” his hand cupped the side of your face, caressing your cheek. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

Your heart swelled at how delicate he was with you, at how much he cared. But you didn’t want to be treated delicately. And now you almost felt bad about how much you’d teased him up to this point. Almost.

“Do you know,” you said sitting up, your hand ghosting over the outline of him through his boxer briefs, “I had a sex dream about you. Right before the Japanese Grand Prix.”

“No,” he ground out.

“You had my legs spread on a desk in some McLaren office.” You felt his whole body clench again as you slid the last piece of clothing down his legs. As though the thought hadn’t crossed his mind every time you admonished him for not paying attention or not taking things seriously in those early days. The frequency of course increased, to every time you bent over, smiled, or played with your hair, to simply existing. For once, he was the one blushing and you found it entirely endearing. “I’ve literally dreamt of fucking you for three months. I want you and I need you. Now.”

His pupils dilated at your words, and his hands moved possessively from your face down to your ass where his fingers sank into your skin hoping to mark and keep you. He tried to find the words to communicate how badly he wanted and needed you too, but blood was no longer flowing to his brain and no words seemed perfect enough for you. His shaft twitched against his toned stomach, eager for your touch. You relieved him, wrapping your full hand around his impressive length pumping up and down a few times, your gentle grip slowly firming with each stroke.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. His hand found your waist and you felt his grip tighten as you continued. You slithered down his body until your mouth aligned with him, spitting over his tip. He felt voyeuristic watching the saliva drip from your tongue. You looked up to see him gripping the sheets for dear life.

“Is that alright?” He nodded fervently.

“Only if you want to,” he croaked out. Bless this man, who just wanted to make sure you were comfortable even though it looked like his eyes were going to roll back into his head.

“I do. Very much,” you insisted. You dragged your tongue slowly from the base of his shaft to his tip. “You made me feel good.” Lick. “Now I want to make you feel good.” His shallow breath hitched when you finally took him in your mouth. Your eyes watered as he hit the back of your throat, you looked up to make sure he was still breathing. You found him slack jawed, but eyes full of lust. He brought a hand to your head. You prepared your gag reflex expecting him to force your rhythm, but instead simply pushed your hair out of your face.

“Fuck, you look so good.” You felt the slickness spread between your thighs at his praise, adding a hand to his base where your mouth couldn’t quite reach. You increased your speed, moaning into him. He happily absorbed the vibrations, reflexively bucking his hips into you. You tasted salty precum at his tip and could tell he was close.

“W-wait,” you slowed your pace but didn’t remove him as you looked up again. “I don’t want to finish yet. Not like this.” You slowly pried yourself off him, finishing with a satisfying *pop* as you released him. You saw his chest rise and fall at an alarming rate. He helped pull you up, interlocking your fingers in the process.

“What do you want?” you asked, knowing you would do whatever came out of his mouth without hesitation.

“Grab my jeans?” You couldn't hide your skepticism, but nonetheless begrudgingly left the nicest seat you’ve ever known to find his pants somewhere on the floor. You resumed your spot on his lap as he frantically searched his pockets, finally locating his wallet and fished out a condom. Everything else found its way back to the ground. Eyes wide, he maintained a death grip on the condom. “You’re sure?”

You smiled. You thumbed his jawline as you brought your foreheads together. “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.” It took him about four seconds to process what you said, but when he did closed the gap between your lips in a messy and desperate kiss that sucked the air out of you. It dizzied him too and only pulled away when he remembered he had to open the condom. You leaned back to give him some space as he struggled with the wrapper. His brow furrowed in frustration as he tried to steady his shaky hands.

“I swear I’m usually a lot smoother than this,” he muttered. You bit back a laugh.

“I believe you.”

“You just make me nervous,” he admitted, uncharacteristically bashful. “In case you couldn’t tell.”

“Hardly noticed,” you said sarcastically, but reassured him with a giggle. “It’s very endearing, if it makes you feel any better.” You calmly grabbed it from him.

“It does,” he confessed as he let you take it from his hands. Without breaking eye contact, you ripped the wrapper easily with your teeth. You felt him twitch under you as you wriggled yourself against him in content, allowing him to feel your arousal. He swallowed thickly. “Where did you learn that?”

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out,” you smirked. You moved off him for a moment, and he took the chance to stroke himself a few times, watching you absentmindedly. How your hair, now perfectly tousled, fell around your shoulders. How gravity worked miracles on the swell of your breasts. How your waist sloped into your hips and thighs. You patiently presented the condom back to him and he used all his concentration to take it from you to roll it down his length. He looked at you hopefully when he was done and you rewarded him with another kiss, your hair cascading around the two of you creating a protective curtain around your new little intimate universe.

You both watched as you eased yourself onto his cock, voyeurs of your own lust. Your moans harmonized as he bottomed out. You felt deliciously stretched and full. Complete. You began slow to adjust to his size, teasing him in the process with your agonizing pace, rising up to the point of almost dismount before sinking back down again engulfing his full length.

“Does this feel good?” you cooed, already knowing the answer as you swirled your hips with him bottomed out inside you, tormentingly slow.

“Yes. Fuck yes,” he groaned as he palmed your ass. “You’re so fucking tight.” You dragged a hand from his chest, down the ripples of his abs, towards where the two of you intercepted. With his jaw clenched, he sank his fingers in your hips, trying unsuccessfully to steady them as you continued to rock. “You look so good with me inside you.”

He lifted his hips to meet yours as proof of his enjoyment, the new angle jolting you forward slightly. A moan escaped as you found a rhythm as you rolled your hips back and forth, itching for the friction of his skin against your already swollen clit. Your pace quickened as his length hit that sacred spot deep in your core over and over. The bounce of your tits mesmerized him. Unable to resist, his mouth found a nipple, flicking his tongue back and forth over the sensitive peak that had you seeing stars.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you whimpered. You felt the pressure pool and coil in your lower abdomen. Your eyes closed when he grabbed the back of your head, gently pulling your hair.

“Look at me. I want you to look at me when you come.” All you could do was nod in response, worried that any sound you might let out at that point would alert the whole building. It was impossible to look away from his gaze even if you wanted to. You bit your lip as the pressure continued to build, hypnotized by the repetition and sensory overload. You rocked back onto him a final time before reaching your release, collapsing on forward onto his chest and his name falling off your tongue like a prayer as your hips slowed and stuttered.

Yes

Daniel

He’d never heard a more beautiful sound before. His mouth caught yours again, absorbing the moans that continued as you rode out your orgasm. He wrapped an arm around your lower back to pull you flush to his chest and began to upthrust, building to an excruciating pace. You held onto his shoulders for dear life.

“W-what are you doing?” You knew you sounded pathetic, barely able to form the sentence. He smirked.

“Getting you to Number Three.”

“I can’t,” you whined. He pulled you close and rolled the two of you over, taking care to remain buried inside of you. You gasped at the sudden movement, eyes wide when you landed on your back.

“Three’s my lucky number.” He gave a few slow pumps before pushing himself up to spread your legs. He admired the change in your face at each new angle, each expression more perfect than the next. He brought his thumb down to your clit and watched you whither under his touch. With the new view he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. “Don’t worry, I’ll do the work this time.”

You couldn’t argue with his logic. The only response you could give were incantations of profanities as he fucked you into the mattress and his gentle finger rubbing the sensitive nub just above where your bodies joined. He glistened as beads of sweat formed over his body, enhancing the contours of his muscles with each thrust. It was all too much. You felt your walls begin to clench again, your body eagerly anticipating its reward.

Daniel saw your mouth mold into an “o”, the slight twitch of your muscles, and felt the pressure that was building inside you. He prayed you were close knowing that his stamina would soon run out.

“That’s it. Come for me.” Daniel counted his blessings that he should be so lucky to have a front row seat, not once, not twice, but three times to your orgasms. You were so beautiful. Too beautiful. He couldn’t stop himself from chasing his own high as he watched you twist and contort under him. His thrusts became more frantic and erratic as your moans filled the room until he spilled into you, lurching forward but catching himself before fully collapsing on top of you.

Finally the motions stopped, except for the quickened rise and fall of your chests as you both tried to catch your breath. You blinked at each other a few times, still unable to move or think. Daniel broke the silence.

“Holy shit.” You couldn’t help the stupid grin that formed. You pressed a hand to his cheek just to make sure he was still real.

“That good, huh?” He begrudgingly began to move and pulled out of you, rolling over to your side. He propped himself on his elbow and looked down on you, absentmindedly drawing patterns on your soft belly.

“I was just going to ask if you wanted to grab dinner. But that was way better.” You both laughed as you nuzzled into each other, still peppering the other with butterfly kisses and holding onto the belief that the world was the size of a queen-size bed.

Eventually he got up to go to the bathroom. As soon as he left your side, the intrusive thoughts returned and you began mentally preparing yourself for the inevitable goodbye. You watched silently as he searched the floor for his underwear, blissfully unaware of your inner turmoil. This was fun you repeated in your head. It will be a good story to tell you tried convincing yourself.

He came back to bed and snuggled up against you.

“Now what?” he asked innocently. You squinted back at him, laughing slightly.

“That’s an awfully loaded question, don’t you think?” He seemed confounded for a moment.

“I mean, I was just thinking we could get food now? What were you thinking?” You forgot that men could be such simple creatures. Maybe it was the audacity that allowed them to go about life blissfully unaware or unconcerned about hypothetical what if’s and unintended consequences of their actions. But for now, maybe you needed to think like a man too. You didn’t need to solve all the world’s problems in one night. Maybe all you needed was to just enjoy whatever this was for whatever time was left before you got on a flight tomorrow to return to reality.

“Yeah, I guess I worked up an appetite.” He broke into a wide grin. He grabbed your face to bless you with a kiss on the forehead before fetching the menu.

“Great. I’ll order us room service.”

Your eyes fluttered open the next morning. Scenes from the night before played on a loop in your head. Sweaty bodies entangled in a sea of limbs. In your experience, men who were that charismatic and that good looking rarely knew what to do with the bodies they had been blessed with. And yet…

You were afraid to open your eyes, not ready to let go of the memory that brought a smile to your face so you kept them closed a bit longer. Instead, you extended a hesitant hand to the other side of the bed expecting to feel the warm body of your evening companion, but you felt nothing. You reluctantly opened your eyes.

“Dan?” Your voice was soft and hoarse from sleep. Nothing. Maybe he hadn’t heard you.

“Daniel?” You tried again, a bit louder this time. Still no response.

You slowly got out of bed half asleep, the line between your dreams and the real world still not quite defined. You zombie-walked to the window, delicately drawing back the blackout curtains of the hotel room. You winced as your eyes adjusted to the natural light. Your clothes were still on the floor where they had been unceremoniously discarded, but the other outfit that had kept them company had disappeared. Your heart fell.

“Daniel?” you tried one last time, voice cracking slightly. Maybe he was in the bathroom. Maybe he had eaten something bad yesterday. You knocked on the door before cautiously opening it. You stood in the doorway a beat too long, unable to move from the empty space. He had been so convincing, so charming, and you fell for it. You had been so guarded and careful, you thought you had sniffed out any unsavory motives and you still were left feeling used and abandoned.

You blinked back tears before they could fall, hiding your defeat from no one in particular in the privacy of your hotel room. You wiped your eyes, chugged a glass of water, for some masochist reason put on your Enchante sweatshirt and got back into bed. It was still early, maybe you could sleep another few hours before you had to get ready to go to the airport. Maybe that sleep would help you forget and ease the overwhelming humiliation and melancholy that fell over you.

As you began to drift off, a noise at the door startled you awake. You realized it was the sound of the door key and grabbed sheets to cover yourself quickly, unsure what else to do.

“I’m not ready for housecleaning!” you yelled uncertainly, praying it was in fact hotel staff and not a burglar.

“Hey hey hey, it’s just me. Good morning to you too.” You slowly peaked your head from under the covers, shocked at the sound of the reassuring, achingly familiar Australian accent. The driver stood in the foyer, his hands overflowing with bags and precariously balancing two coffee cups. You sat up a bit more as you processed the sight in front of you.

“What-?” you trailed off. He seemed nervous, but a smile never left his face.

“I, uh, wanted to surprise you with breakfast. There’s a little place down the street. But you looked so peaceful sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you, so I grabbed your room key. But I realized when I got there I didn’t know what you liked, and my phone died, so I kind of got one of everything…I hope that’s ok. I didn’t mean to scare you –“

As he rambled, you had silently gotten out of bed to grab the cups from his hands, placing them on the table along with the insane amount of bags, one by one. With all obstacles removed, you enveloped your arms around his neck and stamped his lips with a kiss. He was surprised by the sudden gesture but returned it eagerly, his hands still familiarizing themselves with you. He blinked a few times when you pulled away.

“I promise I will get breakfast for you every day if you like it that much.” You laughed with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, and you looked away.

“I thought you left,” your small voice shrank in embarrassment that you had jumped to conclusions so quickly. You couldn’t bring yourself to explain further.

But you didn’t have to. He wrapped you in a bear hug crushing you into his chest, his lips nuzzled into the crown of your head, his body heat invigorating you.

“I’m sorry, I should have texted or let you know where I was.”

“No, it’s silly. I was being overdramatic.”

“It’s not silly. And I’m not going anywhere.”

“But what does that mean?” you asked in exasperation. He pulled away and looked at you in disbelief that you would even ask such a question.

“What do you want it to mean?” You bit your lip in frustration.

“Daniel, don’t be obtuse. In a couple of hours we’re getting on different planes to go to opposite sides of the world.”

“And?”

“We’re not going to see each other.”

“Well then it’s a good thing I know people with private jets.”

“I still have to work.”

“I’ll come to you.”

“My apartment is small.”

“I can pack light.”

“What if you meet someone else when we’re not together?” He let out an irritated sigh.

“I don’t want to meet anyone else.”

You were stumped. He could read the confused look on your face and gently grabbed the sides of your shoulders. “You know, for someone so smart you can be really dumb sometimes.” You crossed your arms.

“Hey!”

“I know it’s hard for you to believe for some reason, but I want to give this a real shot. I want to take you on a proper date. See what things look like when I’m not paying you to spend time with me.”

You looked down, feeling a little guilty about how much you doubted him. You couldn’t help that you were risk averse by nature.

“Did you just… Socratic method me to get me to understand that you like me?”

“Did it work?”

“Let’s just say you have a bright future as a law school professor if this whole driving thing doesn’t work out.” You paused for a moment, still trying to wrap your head around everything. “So… you really want to give this a go?” He rolled his eyes.

“Is it really that hard to believe?”

“I mean – yeah, a little. The world that you operate in is just so much different than mine. Your world consists of beautiful people.”

“You’re beautiful,” he retorted. You blushed but didn’t let the comment throw you off your stride.

“You know what I mean. Your world is glamorous and luxurious. My world is average. It’s a lot of take-out, it’s late nights on the phone with Joe, it’s boring suits, it’s work - without the recognition and without the spotlight. You could have any actress or model or singer in the world and you pick me. Can you blame me for being skeptical?” His face fell slightly as he realized that you didn’t think your shine was bright enough for him. But it was quickly replaced with something mischievous.

“What are you talking about? You’re a singer,” he said matter-of-factly. You rolled your eyes.

“You’ve unfortunately seen me do karaoke, we both know that’s a lie.”

“Your morning shower performances beg to differ.” He laughed at the terror that flashed before your eyes as you threw your hands over your mouth, but quickly reassured you. “I’ve listened to you every morning since we got here. It’s the best part of my day, until I see you.” He pried your hands from your face, holding them in his. “And the last thing you are, is average. Can we please just try?”

You bit your lip, unable to contain the blush spurred by his words of affirmation. The squeeze of his hands on yours caused the dormant butterflies in your stomach to flutter their delicate wings and rise to your chest. A comforting warmth enveloped you, it rose to your cheeks and the answer was there plain as day on your face for him and the world to see. No, it couldn’t hurt to try.

“Only if… you’ll do a duet with me.” After holding his breath for what seemed like eternity, his joy and happiness hanging in the balance waiting for your response, he broke into a toothy grin that used every dimple and laugh line on his face. Without skipping a beat, he threw you over his shoulder and made his way to the bathroom leaving a trail of your giggles in his wake.

“I’m ready for my audition.”

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cevansbrat0007 · 2 years ago

Text

Jiggly

Summary: You find yourself feeling a little self-conscious after it becomes clear you've gained a little weight.

Warnings: Insecure Reader, Ari Being A Menace, Discussions of Body Image, Mentions of Disordered Eating, Smut (Heavily Implied), Oral Sex (Fem Rec Implied), Light Spanking, Cursing, Clothed Male Nude Female (CMNF), Talk of Potentially Abusive Exes, Brief Discussion of Murder, Pet Names, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Dedicated to @curls-and-eyeliner and @dc41896. This story will more than likely take place in my upcoming Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. Thanks for reading!

___

“Lemme see.”

“Seriously, Ari?” You mumble, throwing your arms over your face. “Ari–no!” Your man’s eagerness has you almost immediately second guessing yourself as you hastily go back to protecting your middle.

“Why not?” Your man purrs, nuzzling the fabric of your threadbare flannel shirt with the tip of his nose. It was your favorite thing to wear when you felt like this. Not because it was exceptionally cute, but because it was comfortable.

Nevermind the fact that it had once belonged to Ari. And that you usually only wore it when he was away on a job and you were missing him.

“I just wanna see what all this fuss is about, Bird.”

“I already told you.” The words are spoken in a huff. After a brief debate, you decide to take advantage of the element of surprise and flip your positions so that you’re straddling him. “I’m feeling a little jiggly.”

“Right, you’re…jiggly.” A small snort slips from his mouth before he can compose himself. “I heard what you said the first three times you said it. Didn’t make a lick of sense then and it doesn’t make any now.”

Annoying bastard. Not everyone could walk around all day sporting washboard abs. Especially not a girl like you whose passion for baking was almost as big as her passion for books.

“Oh, shut up.” You grunt, rolling your eyes as you go to pin his hands above his head.

“I’m just pointing out that my ears are working fine.” He picks that moment to buck his hips, almost knocking you off your perch. Somehow you manage to steady yourself, but it’s absolutely easier said than done.

“Hold still, Levinson!”

“Looks to me like you’re the one doing all the moving.” Ari’s hearty chuckle has you redoubling your efforts to hold him hostage. “Although, I can’t say I’m complaining.” He purrs, his lidded gaze straying to your now-heaving chest. “But I really think our next move should be gettin’ you outta that shirt.”

Fat chance of that one, pal. The last thing you wanted was to be naked in front of him right now. Sunlight wasn't known for being slimming.

“Nope.”

“I vote yes.” Ari twists his big body, jerking against your hold. “And while you’re at it you can lose the shorts too, along with the panties.”

“But I’m not wearing any.” The words tumble out faster than you can stop them. It’s enough to have you mentally slapping yourself in the face.

“Even better.” The feral gleam in his eyes sends sparks shooting straight to your core. “I’m a simple man, baby. And giving me easy access to that sweet pussy is the quickest way to my heart.”

You roll your eyes so hard it’s a surprise that you don’t lose them. As it was, your flimsy shorts were already riding up your ass in a way that was kind of uncomfortable. Mostly because your man wouldn’t stay still.

“Bird, what have I told you about rolling your eyes at me?” The soft, silky timbre of his voice has alarm bells sounding in your head.

“Um…” Now, that one has you at a loss. And not because you didn’t know the answer to his question.

In the past, Ari had explicitly warned you not to do it. Not unless you wanted him to give you a few reasons to keep ‘em rolling. Specifically in the form of his thick, hard cock. Because while your man was usually more than willing to put up with quite a bit of sass from you...

There was just something about rolling your eyes that pissed him off. In fact, the last time you’d done it you’d found yourself bent over the couch with a sore ass and him balls deep inside you.

Granted you’d also been in the middle of a fight, but that was neither here nor there.

“Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?”

“Bite me.” You snap, your mouth once again moving faster than your brain. Fuck, you needed to get a handle on that.

Ari has you on your back in a flash. He looms over you, careful not to give you his full weight. It went without saying that you were well on your way to getting yourself in trouble with your man.

Him and stupid rules about maintaining proper eye eye contact and refusing to tolerate your brand of self-deprecating talk. He always maintained that if he ever found himself wanting one of those rail-thin Hollywood types over you, he’d go see about getting his head checked out.

To him you were gorgeous. Not because of or in spite of your curves. But because you were you.

“Where’s all this sass coming from?” Ari asks, shaking his head as his nimble fingers begin the work of unfastening your flannel. “It can’t all be because you’re feeling squishy.”

“Jiggly.” You correct him gently, your heart speeding up as he slowly unfastens one button, and then another.

“My mistake, Duchess.” And there was his other nickname for you; the one you’d earned yourself during your very first meeting. “I just don’t like seeing my girl upset – especially not when she’s been walking around my place all day looking good enough to eat.”

Soon you’re down another button, but you hardly notice this time. You’re too busy getting lost in his sparkling blue eyes.

Only a few more to go. Frankly, the only reason Ari hadn’t ripped the damn thing was because he knew just attached you were to it. And he didn’t want to risk upsetting you further.

“I’m sorry.” You try, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. While your boyfriend doesn’t say anything, the apology does manage to earn you a kiss. Even though it’s nothing more than a faint brush of his mouth over yours.

“Swear to God, baby.” Ari hums as he resumes the delicate task of divesting you of your clothes. “If I ever meet the man responsible for planting all those ugly thoughts in the beautiful mind of yours…” Once all the buttons are finally undone, he parts the edges of the worn fabric, exposing your bare breasts.

“Ari…”

“I’ll fucking kill him.” His dark gaze locks with yours, making it clear that he’s not joking.

“Beast…” A shiver courses through you, the cool air making your nipples pebble. “This has nothing to do with him. My clothes have been feeling a little snug lately, but then I stepped on the scale this morning and it confirmed everything. I’ve probably just been eating too much.”

“Bullshit. I’ve seen how much you eat.” The tick in his bearded jaw has you glad your ex no longer lived in the same county as you. “Some days it’s still nowhere near enough. Might as well be a bunch of birdseed. And since when do I even own a fucking scale?”

Since you’d relocated it from your house to his. But your man doesn’t even give you time to respond. He’s already decided on its new home.

“It’s going in the trash, Bird.” Ari growls, his tone dripping with authority.

“But I need –”

“What you need to do is not worry about counting every single calorie in every tiny bite of food you put in your mouth all the damn time.” His big hands go to frame your face as he forces himself to take a calming breath. “Because I remember what it was like back then, when you were too nervous to even eat in front of me.”

Shit. You did too. You’d been so worried that he’d make some remark about how much food you were putting in your mouth or on your plate that you’d done your damndest to avoid eating in front of him altogether.

“And I will not let us go back to that place, baby. I just won’t.” Ari’s head dips once more – this time his tongue sweeping past your lips to tenderly dance with your own as he pours every ounce of love he can into the kiss. He groans when he finally feels you relax beneath him, almost as if he’s savoring your submission. “You have my fucking word.” He murmurs once he finally lets you up for air.

“I think that maybe I just need to eat more salads.” You tell him as your toes begin to curl. At the same time, a delicious warmth pools in your belly as your man begin’s trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses down your body. Your fingers sink into his chestnut tresses, lightly ruffling the strands.

“Eat whatever the fuck you want.” Comes his swift rebuttal, his sharp teeth grazing over your pouting nipple.

“Bu–but…then my clothes might not fit.” A hiss of breath escapes as his kisses continue to move further south. “Like, at all.”

“Then we’ll just have to buy you some more goddamned clothes then, won’t we?” Ari snarls before pausing his hedonistic assault to glare up at you. When you don’t respond immediately, one of his hands finds your chin – gripping it with just enough force to let you know he means business.

Your man was also the type who liked to hear an answer when he asked a question. And that wasn’t something that only applied to you. It was true for everyone. He didn’t talk just to hear himself speak.

“Yes, Sir.” To be fair, it was hard to argue with your boyfriend’s logic. And if he wanted to spend his hard-earned money he’d made off of chasing bad guys, then perhaps you’d ought to let him.

The last thing you needed was him off pouting in the corner somewhere. He was a sizable enough menace already. He didn’t need the extra help.

“Thank you.” He grumbles, shifting his attention to what’s left of your clothes. Namely, your shorts. The ones Ari wasn’t too keen on you wearing out of the house on account of the fact that they barely covered your ass. Shaking his head, he eases the thin material down your thighs before tossing them over his shoulder.

Now you were well and truly naked – completely at the mercy of your still fully-clothed Beast.

“Show me what’s mine, please.” Ari rasps, nudging your thighs apart. In the mood to obey, you let them fall open, putting your glistening cunt on display. “There’s a good girl.” His fingers reach out to brush over your sensitive folds, making you whimper.

Feeling brave, your hand shoots out to wrap around his thick wrist. “Wait. I was thinking I’d like to, um…makeup for upsetting you a little bit ago.”

“Really, Bird? You wanna make it up to me?” He maneuvers himself on the bed so that he can help you sit up. Nodding, you move to reach for him – intending to remove his t-shirt. Only to be surprised when Ari stops you.

“But I want it off.” You whine, poking out your lower lip. “You’re not playing fair.”

“That’s because we’re not playing. If you wanna make it up to me then you’re just gonna have to do what I say.” He smooths a thumb across the wrinkles in your brow. “You can suck me off later. After you’ve fed me.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.” Grinning, Ari goes to lie flat on his back, his muscled arms coming to rest behind his head. “Now bring your sweet ass over here and sit on my face.” He pats his chest for good measure, licking his lips in anticipation. “And I mean all the way down.”

“But what if I –” Your stream of consciousness is interrupted by Ari tugging you forward. He grips your thighs, his slightly calloused palms tenderly kneading your flesh as he urges you up his body in the direction of his waiting mouth.

This position always makes you nervous – regardless of whether or not you’d had to jump into your jeans that morning.

“You just let me worry about all those pesky what-ifs.” Your man grunts, letting it be known that the only way to satisfy him right now is to submit. He spanks your ass when you hover too long above his face. “The only thing you need to be concerned about is how I’m gonna redden that ass if you don’t do as you’re told and sit all the way down.”

You feel your face flush as your empty walls clench. Your body was feeling more than a little needy. You were craving your man's cock like the drug that it was. But before you got what you wanted, you'd have to make a couple of concessions first.

Starting with this one...

“I mean it, Bird.” He growls, delivering a sharp smack. “All the way down, please. I’m not worried about being able to breathe.” You jump when you receive another smack for your trouble. “Besides, if it’s my time to go…then I’d much rather go out with the taste of you on my tongue.”

"Now let's see just how many you can give me."

END

3K notes · View notes

mediocre-shark-tales · 19 days ago

Text

Mexican GP

Masterlist

Trigger Warning- slow burn of increasing themes including sexism, SA, depression, and implied grooming.

The roar of engines echoed through the paddock, the familiar hum of pre-race chaos buzzing in the air. Practice sessions were in full swing, and I was doing everything I could to keep my head in the game.

The car felt decent—better than I expected on the bumpy, high-altitude track. But my focus was fraying at the edges, stretched thin by the relentless schedule and the undercurrent of tension that followed me everywhere.

Every time I stepped out of the car, Henry was there. Whether it was snide remarks about my driving, veiled insinuations about my competence, or thinly veiled flirtations that made my skin crawl, he always found a way to remind me of his presence.

“Not bad,” he said after the second practice session, his tone dripping with condescension. “But if you could push just a little harder in Turn 4, maybe you wouldn’t be so far off Fernando’s pace.”

I clenched my jaw, biting back the urge to snap at him. “Noted,” I replied curtly, forcing a smile for the sake of professionalism.

Mark and Tom tried to help where they could, offering constructive feedback and redirecting conversations when Henry’s comments veered into inappropriate territory. But their attempts were often shut down with a sharp glare or dismissive remark from Henry.

By the time media duties rolled around, my energy was already depleted. The questions from reporters were the usual mix of predictable and pointed:

“How are you feeling after your first win?”

“Do you think you can replicate that success here in Mexico?”

“What’s it like competing alongside Fernando Alonso?”

I gave them my best answers, masking my exhaustion and frustration behind a practiced smile. The last thing I needed was for anyone to catch on to how I was really feeling.

After the press conference, I bumped into Oscar and Lando in the paddock.

“You okay?” Oscar asked, his brows knitting together in concern. “You seem... off.”

“Just a rough weekend,” I said quickly, waving him off with a small smile. “I’ll bounce back.”

Lando tilted his head, studying me with a frown. “You sure? You’ve been a bit... quiet. Not your usual snarky self.”

“I’m fine,” I insisted, trying to sound more convincing than I felt. “Just tired, that’s all.”

They didn’t look entirely convinced, but they didn’t push either. I appreciated that, even as guilt churned in my stomach. I couldn’t tell them the truth. If word got out that I was struggling with Henry, it wouldn’t take long for the narrative to shift.

“She’s too sensitive.” “She can’t handle the pressure.” “She’s just a weak little girl trying to play with the big boys.”

I couldn’t risk it. Not after everything I’d worked for.

As the day dragged on, I kept my head down, burying myself in the technical briefings and debriefs, trying to drown out Henry’s presence. But no matter how hard I tried, his words clung to me like a shadow, creeping into the corners of my mind and making it harder to focus.

By the time I returned to my hotel room that evening, I felt like I was hanging on by a thread. I sank onto the bed, staring at the ceiling as exhaustion and frustration washed over me.

Tomorrow was another day, another chance to prove myself. But as much as I wanted to believe that, a small, nagging voice in the back of my mind whispered otherwise.

The paddock was already bustling when I arrived on Qualifying day. Engineers zipped back and forth, journalists hovered for quick soundbites, and the hum of engines warming up vibrated in the air. I clutched my bag a little tighter as I walked toward my garage, trying to shake off the growing pit in my stomach.

It didn’t take long for Henry to find me.

“There you are,” he said, stepping into my path with a smirk that instantly put me on edge. “Thought you’d try to sneak past me today.”

“I’m just here to do my job,” I replied, keeping my tone even as I tried to step around him.

But he didn’t move. Instead, he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “Oh, I know. But maybe you’d do it better if you weren’t so uptight all the time. Loosen up, Y/N. You’re not here to impress anyone, are you?”

I clenched my jaw, forcing a polite smile. “Excuse me, I need to get to the car.”

Henry finally stepped aside, but not before brushing a little too close for comfort. I made a beeline for my personal driver’s room, my sanctuary in this chaos. Once inside, I closed the door and leaned against it, letting out a shaky breath. The room wasn’t much—just a small space with a couch, a locker, and a desk—but it was mine, and more importantly, it was somewhere Henry couldn’t follow.

Every chance I got, I hid in there. Between briefings, media obligations, and prepping for Qualifying, I retreated to the room to recharge and escape his incessant remarks. But out in the paddock, there was no avoiding him.

At one point, as I was heading back from a strategy meeting, Henry was once again trailing behind me, making one of his usual inappropriate comments.

“Do you always walk this fast?” he teased, falling into step beside me. “You know, you don’t have to be so cold. A smile wouldn’t kill you.”

I bit my tongue, willing myself not to snap at him.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice cut through the tension, and I turned to see Max and Lando approaching from the opposite direction. Relief washed over me like a wave.

Max’s sharp eyes flicked between me and Henry, his expression hardening slightly. “Everything okay here?”

“Yeah, fine,” I said quickly, forcing a smile. “Just heading to the garage.”

Lando’s gaze lingered on Henry, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something more serious. “You sure? You look... tense.”

“I’m good,” I insisted, brushing it off as casually as I could. “Just a busy day, you know how it is.”

Max didn’t look convinced. He crossed his arms, his towering presence suddenly feeling like a wall between me and Henry. “If you say so.”

Henry, for his part, looked completely unfazed. “She’s just focused,” he said smoothly, flashing a grin that made my stomach churn. “That’s what we like about her.”

I shot him a warning glance before turning back to Max and Lando. “Thanks for checking in, but really, I’m fine.”

They didn’t press further, though I could feel their eyes on me as I walked away, Henry still trailing a few paces behind.

As soon as I was out of earshot, Max turned to Lando, his expression dark. “She’s not fine.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Lando muttered, glancing after me. “Henry’s always been a bit... much, but that was something else.”

Max nodded, his jaw tightening. “We need to keep an eye on her. Something’s off.”

“Agreed,” Lando said, his usual light tone replaced with quiet determination. “Let’s make sure she knows she’s not alone anymore.”

Meanwhile, back in the garage, I settled into my driver’s room once more, trying to shake off the encounter. But the pit in my stomach only grew, a gnawing reminder that no matter how much I tried to brush it off, something had to give—and soon.

-timeskip-

The time finally arrived for qualifying, and I felt a strange mix of relief and focus wash over me. For the first time all day, Henry had no reason to be in my orbit—he was stationed on the pit wall, his attention glued to the screens monitoring the car’s performance.

The moment I stepped into the garage and put on my helmet, it was like a switch flipped. The world outside the car didn’t matter anymore. My heart rate steadied, and my grip on the steering wheel felt like an extension of myself. The tension that had weighed on me all weekend melted away as I slid into the cockpit.

The team ran through the final checks as I got comfortable in the car. Mark’s voice came through the radio, calm and steady. “All systems are good. Just focus on the track, Y/N. You’ve got this.”

“Copy that,” I replied, my voice steady. This was my domain, the one place where no one could touch me.

The first two sessions were rough. The car felt a little twitchy, especially in Sector 2, and I struggled to find a rhythm. I pushed through, adjusting my lines and braking points with each lap, determined not to let the day’s earlier frustrations seep into my performance.

As Q3 rolled around, I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins. The track was alive with energy, the roar of the crowd blending with the scream of engines. This was it—the moment to make it count.

I pushed the car harder than I had all weekend, finding time in the tricky middle sector and nailing the final corner with just enough finesse to keep the lap together. When I crossed the line, my engineer’s voice crackled in my ear.

“P4, Y/N. Great job! Carlos is on pole, Max P2, Lando P3. Solid result.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, a small smile tugging at my lips. P4 wasn't a pole, but it was more than I had expected given the challenges of the day.

“Thanks, team,” I said, feeling a flicker of pride. “The car felt better that lap. Appreciate the hard work.”

As I brought the car back to the pits, the weight of the day began to lift. For the first time all weekend, I felt like myself again—not the woman constantly dodging Henry’s advances or the driver carrying the pressure of proving she belonged here, but just me.

I climbed out of the car, pulling off my helmet and shaking out my hair. The team greeted me with nods and claps, and I let myself enjoy the moment, however fleeting it might be.

The hotel room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the air conditioner. I let the door shut behind me with a heavy thud, kicking off my shoes and tossing my bag onto the chair in the corner. The adrenaline from qualifying had faded, leaving behind an unsettling cocktail of exhaustion and vulnerability.

The bathroom’s warm light was a stark contrast to the cool, sterile tones of the rest of the room. I turned on the shower, letting the steam fill the small space, and leaned against the counter while I waited for the water to heat up. My reflection stared back at me from the mirror, hair disheveled and dark circles starting to form under my eyes.

I pulled off my post session sweats and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over my sore muscles. It should’ve been relaxing, but my mind had other plans.

Henry’s words from earlier echoed in my head, relentless and insidious. “Maybe you’d do better if you weren’t so uptight all the time.” “You’re not here to impress anyone, are you?” “That’s what we like about her.”

The mocking tone, the smug grin—it all played on a loop, growing louder and harder to ignore. I scrubbed at my skin as if I could wash away the feeling of his gaze, the weight of his presence lingering like a stain.

I leaned against the cool tile wall, closing my eyes and taking a shaky breath. Was he right? Was I too uptight? Too focused on proving myself? My confidence, so solid on the track, seemed to crumble the moment I stepped out of the car.

After finishing the shower, I wrapped myself in a towel and padded back into the room. The steam followed me, curling into the corners of the space as I sat on the edge of the bed. My routine continued mechanically: brushing out my hair, applying lotion, slipping into comfortable clothes. Each movement was automatic, a distraction from the growing weight pressing down on my chest.

But the thoughts didn’t stop.

Henry’s words weren’t new; they echoed sentiments I’d heard my whole life. “She’s too ambitious.” “She’s too emotional.” “She’s just here for attention.”

I ran a hand through my damp hair, staring at the floor as the doubts wormed their way deeper. My reflection in the full-length mirror caught my eye again. I stood there, taking in every perceived flaw, every reason I didn’t belong.

Was I really good enough? Or was everyone just waiting for me to fail?

I sat back on the bed, pulling my knees to my chest as the self-consciousness gnawed at me. The pride I’d felt earlier, qualifying P4 in a tough session, felt like a distant memory. All I could think about was how much more I had to prove, how many people were waiting to say, “I told you so.”

The loneliness of the room wrapped around me like a shroud. I wanted to cry, to scream, to break something—but instead, I sat there in silence, letting the doubts and insecurities seep into every corner of my mind.

Tomorrow was another day, another fight. But tonight, the weight of it all felt unbearable.

A soft knock at the door broke through the silence of the room. I froze, startled out of my spiraling thoughts. Who would be coming to my room now? Cautiously, I approached the door, glancing through the peephole. Relief washed over me as I saw familiar faces. Hannah and Liam.

I opened the door, and they greeted me with matching grins, Liam holding up a bag that smelled suspiciously like burgers. “Surprise!” he said, stepping past me into the room.

Hannah followed, balancing a tote bag that clinked faintly with the sound of bottled drinks. “We figured you could use some company,” she said, her voice warm and understanding.

“I—uh, yeah,” I said, stepping back to let them in. “Come on in.”

They didn’t wait for a second invitation, making themselves at home. Liam pulled a blanket off the bed and spread it across the floor, creating an impromptu picnic spot, while Hannah unpacked the food.

“We brought burgers, fries, and milkshakes,” Hannah said, glancing over her shoulder with a teasing smile. “Your favorites, right?”

I nodded, touched by the gesture. “Yeah, they are. Thanks, guys.”

We settled onto the floor, the hotel room’s TV playing a cheesy rom-com in the background. For a while, we just ate and talked about everything but racing—joking about Liam’s terrible taste in movies and Hannah’s overly dramatic reactions to every plot twist.

But I could feel their eyes on me, watching closely, their usual banter tinged with a hint of concern.

“So,” Liam said after a pause, leaning back on his hands, “how’s everything going? You’ve been quieter than usual this weekend.”

I hesitated, swirling my straw in my milkshake. “It’s... been a lot,” I admitted carefully. “The pressure from the team is just... a lot to deal with, you know?”

Hannah tilted her head, her expression soft. “You’ve been under pressure since day one, Y/N. This feels different.”

I bit my lip, avoiding their gazes. “It’s just... the expectations. They’ve grown. It’s like... like I have to be perfect all the time. I can’t mess up. Can’t let anyone down.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them, and I froze when I realized I’d echoed something Henry had said earlier in the week.

“Can’t let anyone down,” Hannah repeated, her brow furrowing slightly. “Who’s been saying that to you?”

“N-no one,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “It’s just how I feel. It’s nothing, really.”

Liam exchanged a glance with Hannah but didn’t push. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Y/N, you’ve always been good at handling the pressure. But if someone’s making you feel like you’re not good enough, screw them.”

“Yeah,” Hannah chimed in, her voice firm. “You’ve earned your place here. Don’t let anyone make you think otherwise.”

I smiled faintly, grateful for their support, but their words only made the guilt churn in my stomach. I couldn’t tell them the truth. Not yet.

By the end of the night, as we laughed over the absurd ending of the movie and polished off the last of the fries, the tension in my chest had eased slightly. But I could tell Hannah and Liam were still worried. They hadn’t figured out who was getting into my head, but they knew someone was.

As they stood to leave, Hannah gave me a quick hug. “We’re here, okay? For anything.”

“Thanks,” I murmured, meaning it.

Liam lingered in the doorway, his usual teasing grin replaced by something softer. “Don’t forget, Y/N. You’ve got a whole grid of people who’ve got your back, whether you like it or not.”

I nodded, watching as they walked down the hallway.

Liam and Hannah walked down the hallway in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. It wasn’t until they turned the corner, safely out of earshot from Y/N’s room, that Liam finally spoke.

“She’s not telling us everything,” he said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I know her. She always tries to deal with things alone when it gets bad.”

Hannah nodded, her expression serious. “Yeah. She slipped up a couple of times, repeating things someone else must’ve said. ‘Can’t let anyone down’? That didn’t sound like her.”

As they reached the lobby, they spotted Max Verstappen leaning against a wall, scrolling through his phone. He looked up as they approached, immediately straightening when he caught their expressions.

“What’s going on?” Max asked, tucking his phone away.

Hannah glanced around to make sure no one else was listening before answering. “We went to check on Y/N. She’s not okay, Max. She’s brushing it off as team pressure, but it’s more than that. Someone’s in her head.”

Max’s jaw tightened, his gaze darkening. “I thought so. I saw something earlier—her engineer. He was following her around the paddock like a shadow, making her visibly uncomfortable. She tried to act like everything was fine, but I could tell it wasn’t. The guy’s overly demanding, crossing the line from professional to... something else.”

Liam crossed his arms, his frustration bubbling over. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

Max shot him a pointed look. “What was I supposed to do? Accuse someone without knowing the full story? She’d hate that. But now I’m starting to think it’s worse than I realized.”

Hannah hesitated, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Do you think... it’s more than just workplace harassment?”

“What do you mean?” Liam asked, frowning.

Hannah shifted uncomfortably, lowering her voice. “What if he’s grooming her? I mean, the way she described his comments—they weren’t just about her performance. They sounded... personal. Like he’s trying to break her down, make her feel dependent on him.”

Max’s fists clenched at his sides, his anger barely contained. “If that’s what’s happening—if he’s trying to manipulate her into something worse—he’s going to regret it.”

Liam nodded, his jaw set. “We need to keep an eye on her. If she won’t talk to us, we have to make sure she’s not alone with him as much as possible.”

Hannah sighed, worry etched across her face. “And if we’re wrong? What if it’s just the pressure getting to her?”

Max’s voice was cold, determined. “Then we’ll still have her back. But if we’re right, he’s done. No one messes with one of us like that. Especially not her.”

The trio stood in silence for a moment, a shared understanding passing between them. Y/N might not have asked for their help, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t give it.

“She’s not going to like this,” Liam said finally, shaking his head.

Max smirked, though his eyes remained hard. “She’ll thank us later. Or she won’t. Either way, we’re not letting this slide.”

With that, they split off, each silently vowing to protect her, no matter what it took.

As they parted ways, Max pulled out his phone, his fingers flying across the screen as he composed a message. He wasn’t one to stir the pot unnecessarily, but this was different. Y/N was part of their grid family now, and family looked out for each other.

Max Verstappen (Group Chat: "Grid Gossip")Guys, we need to talk about something serious.

The chat, typically filled with memes, jokes, and random banter, immediately grew quiet. The typing bubbles from multiple drivers popped up almost instantly.

Lando Norris:What’s going on?

Charles Leclerc:Serious? Coming from you, Max?

Lewis Hamilton:What’s happening?

Max sighed, leaning against the wall, and continued typing.

Max Verstappen:It’s about Y/N. I’ve noticed her engineer, acting really off with her. Following her around, being overly demanding, and making comments that clearly make her uncomfortable. Liam, Hannah, and I think it might be more than just workplace stuff.

George Russell:More than workplace stuff? Like harassment?

Max Verstappen:Maybe. Hannah thinks it might even be grooming. The way he’s breaking her down, it’s not normal. She won’t tell us what’s really going on, but it’s affecting her. Badly.

Lando Norris:I’ve seen him hovering too. She tries to brush it off, but you can tell she’s not okay.

Carlos Sainz:This is serious. What’s the plan?

Lewis Hamilton:We can’t just sit back and do nothing. We need to be careful, though. If we push too hard, it might make things worse for her.

Max Verstappen:Agreed. For now, we keep an eye on her. Make sure she’s not alone with him. And if he crosses the line again, we step in. Hard.

Charles Leclerc:I’ll talk to her if I get the chance. Maybe she’ll open up to me.

George Russell:Or me. She’s close with a few of us. If we all subtly check in, she might feel comfortable enough to tell one of us.

Lando Norris:And if she doesn’t? What if she keeps trying to handle it alone?

Max Verstappen:Then we protect her anyway. She is not going to fight this by herself, this engineer holds to much over her.

The group chat lit up with agreements, each driver vowing to do their part.

As Max slipped his phone back into his pocket, a small weight lifted from his chest. Y/N wasn’t alone in this, whether she realized it yet or not. The grid had her back, and together, they’d make sure no one—least of all Henry—could tear her down.

#x reader #driver!reader #f1 #f1 angst #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 #max verstappen #charles leclerc #oscar piastri #lando norris #franco colapinto #lewis hamilton #carlos sainz #george russell #grill the grid #f1 grid x reader

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skellyflowers · 10 months ago

Text

Tour Bus Cuddles

Masterlist

Phantom x reader

The European leg of the tour has been going fantastic so far. I was excited to be on the road and get the opportunity to travel around. However no one mentioned how hard being a Tour Manager Assistant would be!

When Phantom dragged me into Brother Kevin’s office to nominate me as the new assistant I thought he was being a clingy boyfriend. He told me that he would miss me. I would miss him too. I was going to work on a schedule for us to still be able to still talk while he was gone. I wasn't expecting this. When Phantom first mentioned Kevin needing an assistant it was during our pillow talk so I didn’t take him too seriously.

I was surprised that Kevin made me his new tour assistant, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was because of how hard headed Phantom is. Kevin has me in charge of checking in the band at any hotel we stay at, ensuring the Green room has what the ghouls need and running last minute errands.

However this show is in the biggest arena so far. So I have to cover way more ground than before helping the ghouls and completing my pre-show checklist. And to make things more complex two of the main stage speakers have been damaged. Lucky us the crew as backup speakers, they are not as loud but they are just as good. Unfortunately for me that means I need to help load the new speakers off the crew truck and bring them half a mile from the parking lot to the arena.

When it is time for a sound check I can’t feel my arms and can barely pay attention to what the merch team is telling me. It doesn’t help that Phantom likes to keep me up after shows and work out his leftover adrenaline. I love him and we always have a great time together but it is going to be hard to do my job if I can’t feel both my arms and legs.

I’m in the Green room sitting on the couch when the ghouls come back after they finish the sound check. Phantom closes in on me and sits in my lap like a little cat. He starts to purr like one too. I smile at his actions and start to scratch at one of his horns, he starts to purr even louder.

“I missed you babe.” Phantom says.

“It’s only been 30 minutes, Bat.”

“30 minutes too long.” he pouts, cuddling into my neck.

“GET THAT CUTE SHIT OUT OF HERE!” Dew yells, startling me.

“Shut up, like you aren't going to come to me and beg for attention.” Rain says, rolling his eyes.

Phantom doesn’t get off my lap until it is time for the ghouls to get on stage and Mountain picks him up. We hold hands and walk from the Green Room to backstage and give a kiss before he gets on stage to the screaming crowd.

The show is amazing, just as all the others have been. When the final bow is taken and Papa has said the last goodnight I help the crew take down the stage and pack up so we can get on the road as soon as we can. The process is smooth and we are able to pack up the crew bus in under an hour. A new personal record.

When I get on the ghouls’ bus I am exhausted. I am happy to be the first on the bus tonight. Papa could herd the ghouls perfectly without my help but I felt a little guilty about texting him that I went straight to the bus and crawled into the first unclaimed bunk I found. Ghoul shepherding is part of my job.

I started to fall asleep when I heard the bus door open and close. I hear footsteps shuffle around until they stop in front of the bunk row I am in. I also hear sniffing? The curtain separating me from the mystery ghoul in the bus slowly opens. I’m surprised that I see Phantom, eyes bright and tail wagging.

“This spot taken?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

I let out a quiet giggle and scoot back as much as I can. Phantom gets a big smile on his face and crawls in next to me. He turns my body so he can be the big spoon, his second favorite cuddling position. If it was always up to him I would be laying on top of him at all times. I find his hand and lace our fingers together and he starts purring against my back and plants a kiss on my neck.

“Did you have fun at the concert?” I ask.

“It was fun, Swiss fell off his stage. But I missed you.”

“Maybe if you teach me to play the guitar Papa will add me to the band.” I said as a joke.

“That’s a great idea. We can start tomorrow.”

“You are so silly, Bat.”

“It is a good idea. We could spend more time together.”

“You never leave me alone. You're the reason I got this job.”

“And I will never give you a moment's peace.” He says, giving me a squeeze.

“We can talk about it in the morning.” I say, with a yawn. “Love you Phantom.”

“I love you too, My Angel.” kissing the back of my head.

I let his purring lull me to sleep as the other ghouls get on the bus and settle in for the overnight drive to the next sold out area.

#the band ghost #the band ghost x reader #the band ghost fic #nameless ghouls x reader #nameless ghouls #phantom ghoul #phantom ghoul x reader

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ryuzakemo128 · 1 month ago

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Kintsugi: Chapter One: Red Flags, Why can't we see them?

Pairing: John Price x Female reader

Content Warnings: Female reader is the breadwinner, female reader is a sex worker, john price is an asshole to you, simon is there for you as a friend, John's secret affair mentioned, cheating suspicions, female reader has a secret apartment, pregnancy scare, arguement and yelling. Burned out female reader. Smut. Not the good kind sadly. Second warning for asshole john price. You will hate him. You are supposed to hate him.

Masterlist - Chapter List

Summary: “I am tired of being someone else’s last choice instead of someone’s first. It’s always what have you done for me? Instead of how was your day? I can’t take more of this. I knew what I was getting into. But I didn’t agree to any of this.”

I get what you're sayin' I just really don't wanna hear it right now Can you shut up for like once in your life? Listen to me, I took your nice words of advice

“I am tired of being someone else’s last choice instead of someone’s first. It’s always what have you done for me? Instead of how was your day? I can’t take more of this. I knew what I was getting into. But I didn’t agree to any of this.” You remarked into your cassette tape, another diary entry you keep from his prying eyes and another way to keep Price from using your own hurt against you. You don’t know what you did to earn it.

You mentioned your ex-boyfriend off handedly once and he blew up in your face. You waited for hours for him to come back home. You were crying your eyes out when he stormed out the door. It wasn’t like you were mentioning him to make him jealous either. You didn’t know what you did wrong.

He never told you why he was upset with you sometimes. He would always leave after a huge argument saying he needs ‘space’ and that you made things worse when all you wanted to do is to make things better. Nothing ever seemed to work for him at all. Nothing at all. You called Gaz and he would say he didn’t see him. But your hunch that Gaz was covering for him.

About how you think I'm gonna die lucky if I turn thirty-three Ok, so yeah, I smoke like a chimney I'm not skinny and I pull a Britney every other week But cut me some slack, who do you want me to be?

You didn’t want to turn to Simon for advice but john left you without a choice. What wer5e going to do next? He wasn’t content with just small insults at your appearance it seems. It was going to a different level like stepping out of your relationship. The one thing you thought was going well for you.

'Cause I'm too messy and then I'm too fucking clean You told me get a job then you ask where the hell I've been And I'm too perfect 'til I open my big mouth I want to be me, is that not allowed? And I'm too clever and then I'm too fucking dumb You hate it when I cry unless it's that time of the month And I'm too perfect 'til I show you that I'm not A thousand people I could be for you and you hate the fucking lot

“I don’t know what I did wrong, whenever I ask it’s like I’m talking to a brick wall. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” You felt awful about talking to your ex. But he knew you better than your current boyfriend it seemed.

You had tried everything to make it work with Price but it felt like you were just going around in circles. You felt like you couldn’t breathe anymore. It’s like every move you made was wrong. You decided to give him the space he wanted, hoping that when he returned he would realise what he had and that he didn’t need to treat you this way.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.” You stated. “I need to find a new place of my own if he’s gonna keep actin like this. I don’t know what he wants from me and he just won’t use his fuckin words to say it either.”

You wonder where you went wrong in your life to get THIS kind of treatment. You never spoke back, never complained nor insulted him or looked elsewhere for comfort outside of your relationship. You pulled out of the apartment slowly enough to make sure he never caught on, last thing you wanted him to do is to catch on to what you were trying to leave him.

You hate the fucking lot You hate the fucking lot

You made rain checks whenever he ‘tried’ to have sex with you. You knew what he was trying to do and you weren’t going to fall for it this time. You didn’t want to feel like you were slowly losing your mind.

You don’t still don’t know what you did wrong to deser5ve John’s cold shoulder as of late. You still tried asking about it. But he always says, “Nothin for you to worry about.” No ‘babe’ or ‘love’ like he used to speak to you.

You slowly started to miss those moments more as the days went on. It made you worry more so you stopped mentioning his hours away from home and you silently continue to seek out a new place to move into.

You didn’t tell Price about the new place you managed to find. You stopped telling him much of anything related to you or your work. You didn’t want another lecture on how you were ‘wasting’ money. Even though you out earned him in your chosen profession. Money remained a sore topic for the two of you.

Staring to move your things into it while he would be deployed. Piece by piece, you didn’t move any of you old furniture it would make things far too ‘obvious’ to him. It would alert him far too quickly.

That’s if he even noticed anything about you anymore. Or if there was anything wrong to begin with. The selfish cunt. No guarantee that he hasn’t noticed either. He wasn’t completely stupid sometimes. Might get suspicious about what you’re planning to do or planning to go. You would have to come up with a convincing enough lie to get him off your back.

Though if he already knows? He may try something drastic enough to keep you there. You just hoped you had enough time to give yourself space between him and the man you used to love. That you used to adore and cherish. Before whatever cause this….monster, this fiend to come out of him.

You showed Simon the new place you bought, it had two bedrooms, the master bedroom had an ensuite attached and a walk-in closet. The kitchen had a stainless-steel dishwasher, and the apartment building had laundry machines on the ground floor. You can always buy new furniture, and any old furniture will be sold when you get comfortable with living somewhere he doesn’t know of.

You didn’t want to hire a private detective on your own boyfriend, but you can’t help but feel suspicious of what he was doing in those long hours far away from you. You pitied anyone who had the misfortune of dealing with him. Even the people inside the same task force as him. The need to control everything won all the time.

You worked in your office like you normally done. Giving him his own branded silent treatment into his face. You weren’t going to give the right to hurt you more than he had done tonight. You were so tired of his shit.

You weren’t perfect far from it too. But whenever he was around you it was clear it was what he wanted from you. You continued to play dumb and you didn’t give him anything he ‘wanted’ from you.

“No. Do it yourself.” You remarked one morning.

John raised his eyebrow, looking at you like you had grown a second head. “What the fuck did you just say to me?” He spat, his words dripping with venom.

“You heard me. Do it yourself. Clearly you don’t need my help. So, go on, do it yourself.” You stated as you walked upstairs to your office to continue your sewing on your dress.

John looked at you, his eyes wide with shock, “Is this what it’s come to? You’re just going to ignore me like that?”

“W-what’s the matter dear? Can’t handle your own portion of your responsibilities? Does he need his mother to write up a chore list?” you taunted from upstairs. “You know one thing a man can do that proves he’s a real man? Admit when he’s fucking wrong. You can’t seem to even do that anyway.”

As you finished the dress’s skirt velvet inlay for the next video, the amount of work you put into your pornographic content is both immense and taxing at times. As you didn’t want it to look like it was a cheap Halloween cosplay or cheap in general.

The main reason you earned so much is because of the level of care put into your craft. Your fans knew that and appreciated it. It was a stark contrast to the apathy John showed for your well-being. You had a loyal fan base and they were eager to support you. But that didn't matter to him.

Especially when he looked at the content you posted both behind the paywalls and the free teasers. He said it wasn’t real money. But you also pointed out that you sold pottery once a month online. You paid the bills, and you weren’t above reminding who earned more to be able to let him spend his income his own way.

Petty? Sure. But petty with a reason attached.

By the time most of your most expensive work gear is moved to the apartment, you were only living there now and cleaning up to a meticulous degree in total silence. As you cleaned the living room carpet with the deep cleaning machine you bought for the occasion. You were dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top, showing off the tattoos that danced along your arms and your stomach.

You had dinner in the slow cooker since seven in the morning. You didn’t bother to set the table since it was just you and your thoughts. You weren’t expecting him to come home early tonight. You hoped he’d stay out for as long as possible.

When he finally decided to come back home. You had placed his dinner into separate containers. You were already asleep on the couch. The plush pink eye mask over your eyes, the matching pink silk pyjama set. The chunky, thick blue-grey crocheted blanket you made last year keeping you warm. As the unicorn shaped nightlight provided enough light in case you needed to use the bathroom.

You had a doctor’s appointment coming up sometime in the next month or two. You don’t exactly remember if it was next month or the month after that. A full body check up to make sure things were in working order. You had done one every three months. The job demanded that you were healthy physically and mentally.

You paid for these yourself, despite living inside a country with healthcare. You paid for medical insurance anyway. It was one of those private healthcare insurance things you paid a good chunk of your money for. You decided to go for the best of the best, and with John’s current mood swings? You weren’t going to take any chances with your health.

What if you were pregnant would he finally be excited that it had finally happened? Would he confess to his affair to another man or woman? All of these thoughts spun around your heard like ballerinas. You didn’t quite understand where his hostile started and if it would ever end.

You felt like it was your fault for not being strong enough to put your foot down. To demand what you did wrong. Why did he seem so fine with it if he felt otherwise? What made him feel this way? If he wanted to break-up why did he wait so fucking long?

You always felt like he was rushing things in this relationship. Especially when he found out about your career, your little side hustles which contributed to your cushy amount of money. But you weren’t perfect, you weren’t even close. From far away the illusion of perfection is there. But once you peak through the cracks they’ll see how many imperfections you got.

What were you supposed to be?

What are you supposed to be?

Everything is spinning out of control. Cliché advice doesn’t work when he doesn’t want to fix himself.

You were either too messy or too fucking clean. Either way he hated how you’ve been. You could be keeping the house clean, but he’ll comb through just point out a spot where you have ‘missed’. Like he knew what to do to make you so pissed at him.

Pushing all the buttons built inside you in the right order, the right way to get you annoyed with him., It was like he had some kind of sick satisfaction when you broke down in tears. Not because you were sad or even upset. You just had so much anger built up inside you that you couldn’t contain it all.

“I feel so fucking disgusting that I even still want the guy that way. It’s like he knows that about me.” You confessed to Simon during one of John’s solo operations. He knew he would have freaked if he knew Simon was inside his home while he wasn’t there.

“Its not nearly as weird as you might think, humans are supposed to be complicated. You’re not a simple creature, love. And neither is he.” Simon remarked. He didn’t have to say much to get his point across.

“He wasn’t so closed up before. He used to be so open minded about these kinds of things.” You remembered, talking about how John Price used to be before things went to shit after almost eleven months dating him.

Simon nodded his head, “Looks like you’re going to have to make a decision soon, love. You can’t keep living like this forever, hiding and tiptoeing around him.”

“I have a doctor’s appointment coming up, if he hasn’t spoken up by then, or by the time most of the house is back to how it was when I first moved in. I’m breaking up with the guy.” You remarked.

Simon raised an eyebrow at how you were putting the house back to how it was before you moved into it. The only difference is that you wouldn’t leave things unrepaired or maintained.

“Why bother with the appointment if you’re just going to leave him?” Simon questioned, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Full body check up remember? I still get one every three months. Four times a year.” You answered taking a sip of your earl grey with lemon and ginger tea.

The last thing you want is to drag some poor child into this whole mess. You don’t know how he would react to the news of it.

To think months ago you couldn’t wait for it to happen.

Only for your relationship to sour this quickly.

Over the weeks Price was deployed, you got the plumping fixed, the light switch and plug covers replaced by an electrician, the toilet and shower head replaced. You didn’t care if price wouldn’t appreciate the thought going into his house.

This was done selfishly not selflessly. Though your definition of what made someone hopelessly selfish was always different from his. Not that you cared anymore.

You replaced his couches and threw out his old, ruined ones into the large tip you rented one morning. Price barely recognised his own home when he came back home from deployment again.

From the old grey ones to dark crimson red ones, with charcoal grey cushions on them. A new cow’s skin rug on the floor. New light switches and plug covers. Painted the living rooms a deep blue-grey shade that made everything else pop. The kitchen had new cabinets and new appliances. It was a stark difference from what it used to be.

Price walked upstairs to the bathroom to see how you changed that too, the tiles were changed to a beige on the walls with black on the floor. The shower was now a glass cube instead of a shower curtain. The sink was no longer a pedestal sink, but a modern vanity with lights around the mirror. The bathtub was replaced with a walk-in shower that had a bench and rain shower head.

Other changes he took notice of where all his things were in the master bedroom, organised, hung up, ironed, folded, washed and put away. Everything was clean and in its place. The bed was made with freshly washed linens, and you had even gone so far as replace the mattress. It was a new king-sized memory foam one with a fancy cooling system that would be heavenly to sleep on.

As you fucked yourself on his thick cock for behaving so well? His rough hands on your hips. You continued to ride him with your luscious hips. Wide-eyed, rock hard and stunned. Your mind was elsewhere about hoping he didn’t do anything other than put a condom on. You didn’t know if you still wanted to have his children when he was treating you this way.

Your body betrayed your every thought, every moan you made were made from your lips. You felt your pussy tightening around him. He had to be feeling it too, his grip on you tightened and his thrusts became more erratic. Enjoying letting out his most primal nature into you. Feral and unabated. \

Only you knew he wouldn’t provide aftercare when he was done with you and you always had to finish yourself off in the bathroom as he passed out in his bed. You don’t know if you could stand him anymore. You didn’t know whether you could wait any longer.

Tags: @night-girl-301 , @evans-dejong , @persephone-kore-law

If you want to be tagged in the next chapter please let me know!

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yenqa · 1 year ago

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10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU — TEASER

READ HERE!

in which...

you hate heeseung. you hate his snobby little voice, his stupid little glasses that are too big for him, his nosiness, and his ability to prove anything or anyone wrong easily. you hate hate hate the way you try to avoid him, but somehow he’s always around, and he can’t see how much you hate him. you swear nothing could make you like him, but after you get caught in a sticky situation with him playing your knight in shining armor, you realize that maybe he isn’t so bad after all.

pairing — heeseung x fem!reader

genre — one sided enemies to lovers, highschool au, he falls first she falls harder, oblivious x obvious, tutor x tutoree (kind of), childhood friends (ish because the whole one sided enemies thing) to lovers, long fic

wordcount — teaser is 1005! fic est. 9k-13k words (hopefully not too ambitious)

warnings — profanity, kissing (no suggestive stuff or nsfw), miscommunication, parties/underage drinking, name calling (bitch, whore, stuff like that), food

featuring — lia of itzy, miyeon of g-idle, hyung line of enhypen (sorry maknaes too many people), ocs : sooyun + teachers

disclaimer — i am not saying this is an accurate representation of these idols or trying to sexualize them at all. this just something i do for fun.

release date — hopefully by mid march?

taglist — open! send an ask or comment to be added!

yenqa — watched the movie on the plane and i was kind of obsessed… but this does not follow the movie plot, i just thought the title fit

YOU WATCH AS THE SNOW FALLS SLOWLY TO THE GROUND

A blanket of white has got you and the guests at your house locked in for the night. You weren’t very happy with these strangers staying at your house for the night—In fact, you had just been completely shut down by your dad when you asked him to kick them out. It was obvious why he did that, but this definitely had to be your least favorite christmas out of the eight you had been through.

You snap out of your thoughts, continuing to eat whatever you had left on your plate, hesitating when you saw the amount of vegetables still left.

“Mom! I’m full.” You try to hide your plate from her, showing her instead a pout with a hand on your stomach.

It didn’t work—obviously, so you were stuck at the table, a frown on your face as you forced in the greens. Across from you, a boy your age, who didn’t seem to mind, he almost looked like he was enjoying it.

That’s impossible though, no one likes vegetables. Maybe he was doing it so Santa would get him an extra special gift?

You grumble when he finishes his place, showcasing his plate that had been licked clean to his mom. He stared at you for a second looking down at your—full plate then looking back at his mom, she said “Great job Heeseung!”. He returns his plate to the table with a smile.

Stabbing your fork back into your food, you stuff it into your face, hoping that you would enjoy it as much as Heeseung did. Again, it didn’t work, and the bitter taste returned to your mouth.

After what felt like hours of groaning and complaining, you had taken the last bite of your food, a proud smirk on your face when you made eye contact with the boy from earlier, who only smiled at you in return.

Throwing away your plastic plate, you realized that now it was present time, and Santa just had to reward you for your good deeds.

Rushing over to the tree, you spot everyone gathered around the area, opening their presents. You run to your present, recognizing the wrapping paper from last year. Looking at your mom for approval, she nods and you tear apart the paper, lifting up the box inside.

You squeal when you see the picture, you had been begging your mom for weeks for a Lego set, specifically if it was minecraft themed. And Santa had gotten you just that. You hug the box, squeezing it. You exclaim a loud “Thank you Santa!” before running up to your room to assemble the build.

Reading the directions, you start the house, quickly getting confused on how it isn’t looking like how it does in the picture.

“I think that’s the wrong piece.” A voice says, you whip your head around to see the same boy who sat across from you.

“Who are you?” Your eyebrows furrow at the sight, confused on why those were the first words he said instead of “Hi!” or something.

“My name’s Heeseung—Um, my mom told me to come upstairs and said we should be friends. Do you want to be friends?”

You huff, “I’m Y/n. Also no, I don’t want to be friends, you’re mean.” You force your legos together, frustrated already with the pieces. You continue to reread the directions, pushing—what you think are—the exact legos to the board. But it doesn’t seem like it’ll fit. Maybe if you push it harder?

“Oh—okay.” You jump slightly, too focused to realize how he's been watching you for the past few minutes. “Do you need some help?”

Yes, you need help. But did you want to accept his help? . This was your christmas gift from Santa, you shouldn’t have to share.

Glancing at the picture then to the building that had looked like an abstract rendition of it, you let out a sigh. I mean, it wouldn’t hurt, right? “Yeah, I guess.”

He takes a seat on the carpet next to you, focusing hard on the directions before breaking off the wrong pieces, reassembling it so you’ll be on the right track.

“Does this go here, do you think?” “No, it goes here.” That was a summary of what the conversation was between you, and somehow you were always the one asking the question. Sighing, you lean back, taking a short stretch break before starting again.

You’re shocked at his speed and efficiency, it almost seems like he’s always a step ahead of you. Geez does this guy ever slow down?

The roles are quickly switched as you are sitting watching him instead. Rummaging through each box only for his eyes to lighten up one he finds the right one. You watch him for a while, getting a break that you very much needed.

You hope that he waits for you to finish it, or that he doesn’t completely do it all by himself because again, it’s your Christmas gift, and he wouldn’t do that, right?

Not right, because apparently he’s a machine—he finishes the build. He stands up, pushes his stupid glasses up also and smiles at you, heading to the door. You think he’s going to say something else like “Sorry for taking away your present!” instead, he thanks you for sharing and happily skipping away.

Heeseung. Even his name infuriates you. He was very unpredictable and you hated that. Why did he just do that? He’s so rude. People don’t make sense—especially boys, they have cooties.

Your head was filled with calling him the rudest things you could think of—You even said a few curse words.

Though later you realized that you probably would never see him again, you were ecstatic, so ecstatic you had disassembled your legos just to rebuild it, to completely forget about your bad experience with the boy.

Only two weeks later were you disappointed to see that same boy, sitting across from you during dinner once again.

perm taglist — @jwnghyuns @ja4hyvn @trsrina @redm4ri @badmuni @yeokii @enhastolemyheart @softpia @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @boyfhee @hanniluvi @teddywonss

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r1pp4r · 2 years ago

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hi lovelies!! work has been busy <333 i’m working on requests but in the mean time have some simon “ghost” riley headcannons :))

- i also bought a ps4 and have been playing cod so… more content hehe 🫶🫶

anyway!! here’s the headcannons :)) slight NSFW warning!!!

——————————————————————————————

- 🫣

• simon isn't a physical touch man unless youre in private but it takes a little bit. he won't be all over you when the two of you are out in public, especially on mission. but he'll do discreet little touches here and there (i.e put his hand on your upper arm, brush your shoulder, your knee, thigh) he'll even grab your pinky (he LOVES finger holding you cant change my mind)

• while simon would be absolutely infatuated with you, he'd also be terrified of you. he loves the thought of having you wrapped in his arms at night but the thought of him crushing or possibly hurting you shuts the idea out almost completely.

• this one is sad but he's hurt you before sleeping. he was definitely having a night terror, he's pushed you out of bed sometimes or woken up screaming. you didn't get to see that until farther along in the relationship though, he probably wouldn't physically sleep with you for maybe the first 6months to a year. it depends on ur dynamic :))

• as much as i know everyone thinks he'd be some mean, aggressive brute in bed... bro. he'd literally be so sweet. he'd take his time and make sure you felt loved. he likes to use his hands and mouth more than his yk, it just makes him feel like he's violating you less? idk how to explain it but he doesn't like receiving TOO much, like he won't ask for it every time but if you ever wanna really get him goin.. 🫣🫣🫣

• simon loves to take care of you, and the thing is you'll argue over it. (at least imc) but he'd definitely try and be the main caretaker of everything and i mean EVERYTHINGGGG, but he also likes ur independence :)) so u have your own job n your own money, he just likes to take care of the big things you pay for groceries n shit (when he's not looking)

• this man LOOOOOVES ur thighs. he loves just feeling his head squished in between the warmth. he loved feeling the skin squish between his fingers as he grabs your legs... esp when it jiggles after he spanks u. ANYWAYYYYYYYYY

• he loves cuddling whenever youre the little spoon in any shape or form. simon is ALWAYS holding you. his arms are wrapped around your form like a cocoon and he makes sure you're all cozied up against him. he also likes to make sure you're protected and one of the only ways he can do that is with his arms around you. he feels the safest with his arms wrapped around you, as do you.

• playing off that.. this man will literally murk a motherfucker if they LOOK at you wrong. (obviously not he'd just stare.. at them. very intensely) but if anyone ever put their hands on you in any sense of malice... i don't think for a second simon would hesitate.

• also... playing off sense. simon 100% knows when someone's bullshitting, or he can call anyone out within a minute. he's VERY good at reading people and truly can figure out their intentions quickly (obvs they can change or he can be wrong but like.. he's not 85% of the time.)

• once simon is comfortable enough with you, he'll come to you whenever he's having a moment and will allow you to basically cradle him until he doesn't need it anymore. he doesn't like to be squeezed tho (besides during ... but we knew that 😸) he just wants you to hold him and run ur fingers through his hair

• he talks a LITTLE bit more with you and his tone is a lot different and his voice is softer but he still doesn't talk a LOT. you do most of the talking but he prefers it that way because he loves listening to your voice. (he 100% calls you on missions whenever he can rather than text, he HATES texting)

• simon has cried to soap and roach about how he wants to love you but feels like he can’t. 100%.

• he only likes to be called simon when they’re at home, or in the bedroom. sometimes you’ve slipped up and he doesn’t mind :)

•bonus simon loves ur hands :~)

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spicyspiders · 1 year ago

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heey! so what about a fic where m!reader and leon are known each other (thanks to their jobs), but never really interacted but they always felt really attracted about each other. and one day they randomly meet again because they had the same mission, and they just finally do the deed?🤔 (and just a some extra lol -big age gap between them- and i hope ada is jealous haha) i hope i explained well, english is not my first language😭😭

I changed some stuff about your request as I wrote it, I hope you don’t mind. There isn’t really an age gap in this fic as I didn’t specify the reader’s age, but I was thinking of Leon from the fourth game as I wrote this, and he’s 27. Warning for smut of course, as well as a light description of an injury the reader gets.

“Leon?”

In your doorway, Leon turns around to face you, a grocery bag in one hand. Out of uniform, he doesn’t look all that different in his dark shirt and pants. It’s topped off with an expensive-looking leather jacket on his broad shoulders.

“Brought you something,” he says, holding up the bag with a smile. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” you respond quickly before you ask him a dumb question, like how he’s able to afford that jacket on the salary you both make. You step to the side and press your back to the wall to make sure he can fit through the doorway, “come in.”

You end up asking one anyway once he’s through the door and you’ve shut it, “can I take your jacket?”

Leon laughs softly as he places the bag on your couch, “I’ve got it. You should be resting anyway,” he responds as he pulls his coat off. You watch with careful eyes as his skin becomes more exposed. His arm brushes yours when he steps past you to place it on your coat rack. It was one of your first big-boy purchases with your new paycheck, so you were happy to see it be put to use.

“Someone had to answer the door,” you say, trying to cross your arms to look cool and sexy for your cool and sexy guest, but you flinch when the action pulls at your bruised side.

“I would’ve gotten in eventually,” he says with a smirk.

“Yes because you just had to bring me,” you try glancing down into the bag, seeing something cylindrical, “soup?”

One of the first things you learned about Leon was how quick he was on his feet, so when you try to open the bag to see what else is in it, he quickly snatches it away. “Take off your shirt.”

“What?” You ask, your heartbeat quickening in your chest.

“Let me check your injuries,” Leon responds, pulling out a roll of bandages and a container of ointment. His face leaves no room for protest, especially when he puts on the stern face he makes all the time at work.

You roll your eyes, but slowly begin pulling your shirt off. On the day you came home with your injuries, you were nearly sweating by the time you got out of your uniform from the pain of being thrown to the concrete while chasing down a criminal, and a day later, taking off and putting on your clothes was now a strenuous activity.

“Easy,” Leon says softly, “let me help you.” One of his hands goes up the back of your shirt, while the other meets the bunched-up fabric at the back of your neck after he pushes it up.

“Thanks,” you whisper when your shirt is over your head and down your arms. Your fingers brush his when you take the shirt and toss it over onto your loveseat.

“Sit,” Leon pats down to the spot beside him after he sits down.

You sit down slowly, but not close enough for Leon’s liking, which he fixes with a warm hand on your uninjured left side. “Come here,” he says softly into your ear before he pulls you closer until your thigh is nearly touching his.

“You didn’t have to come to check on me,” you say as Leon gets to work.

“You’re our rookie, of course I’m going to make sure you’re okay.”

You turn your head so Leon can’t see how hard you roll your eyes, “I don’t need a reminder,” you say bitterly.

“We were all like you once,” Leon says as he grabs the ointment and takes the cap off, “have you washed this?”

“Three times now: once when I got back to the station, once at home last night, and once this morning.”

“Good boy,” Leon responds, the words filling your stomach with warmth, “it’ll heal nicely if you keep it clean.” You gasp when the cold gel touches your side, and when you look back over, you can only see the top of Leon’s head, but are easily able to hear the smirk in his voice when he speaks, “cold?”

“A little,” you respond through gritted teeth when your side starts to sting.

“I know, baby,” Leon murmurs as his other hand goes to your cheek to wipe away the tear you hadn't realized fell, “I’m almost done.”

The pet name has your cock chubbing up in your pants. You bring your legs tight together to hide, but the friction only makes it worse.

“Shh,” Leon mistakenly coos, thinking the noise you make at the feeling is one of pain and not of pleasure. His fingers move from your side to start getting the bandage on your side. By the time he’s done, your side feels wet and warm. It’s nearly uncomfortable, but not as uncomfortable when you feel a glob of precum leak from the head of your cock. Of course it’s on one of the days you decide to go commando.

“You must be tired, let’s lay down,” Leon says, already grabbing one of the pillows beside him to get you comfortable. You hear the crinkle of the bag too, but you assume it’s from him putting the ointment and bandages away. Really, you’re just too worried about lying down while not letting Leon see the bulge in your pants.

He knows though. Of course, he fucking knows. He knows everything, it feels like. Leon settles tightly behind your body once you’ve laid down. The space is tight, leaving no room between your bodies, letting you feel exactly just how hard he is in his pants.

You aren’t sure if you should grind your ass back into Leon’s cock or reach between your legs for your own. Leon makes the decision for you, or rather he pleads for you to let him, “let me take care of you,” he says into the back of your neck.

It takes a few moments to get your pants down and Leon’s open enough to get your cocks free. Leon’s cock is much more wet than you expect when he pushes it in between your thighs, and his fingers are just as wet when they wrap around your cock.

“Is that something else you bought?”

Leon chuckles, his lips brushing the skin of your neck, “you have no idea how long I’ve wanted you, wanted this,” he says as he strokes your cock just as he also thrusts his cock between your legs.

You had an idea of how much he did. You didn’t know how long it was for Leon, but for you, it wasn’t long after you joined Racoon City’s police department that you started wanting him. At first, it had started with lustful looks that became full of longing. It wasn't like you could see your face, but from how Ada and Claire would try to hide their laughter, you guessed it was pretty intense to cause such a reaction.

Leon caught you a few times, but you would always look away quickly before you could embarrass yourself even further. It was only a few weeks ago that when you mustered up the courage to look back at Leon, he would still be looking at you.

“That was such a good morning meeting, wasn’t it, Ada?” Claire asked when you all were in the breakroom.

”It was!” She answered before turning her sights to Leon who stood near the microwave, “what was your favorite part, Leon?” She asked.

Chris answered for Leon instead, “I think his favorite part was who was in the meeting, not what was said.

The three erupt into a fit of laughter as you glare at them from where they sit at the table. It was then that you decided going out for lunch would be a better idea than to eat what you packed the night before. You almost wanted to ask Leon that day if he wanted to join you, but didn’t want to give the others the satisfaction of knowing that they’re right.

“I’ve wanted you,” your voice breaks off into a moan, “practically since I started.” You try to move in Leon’s grip to get more of the pleasure he’s giving you, but Leon throws an arm around you to stop the movements you make.

“I’ve got you,” Leon says, “let me take care of you,” he says once more.

“I can,” your voice falls to a groan, “take care of myself,” you say after trying again, but Leon is just too strong. Him and his stupidly muscular body. You could admit that you were still learning when it came to your job, but you didn’t want Leon to use that against you in the bedroom too.

“I know you can,” Leon says before he maneuvers you onto your back while he holds himself above you on his forearms. “Can you blame me for wanting to?” He asks before swooping down to press his lips to yours, any thought that you have of responding leaves your brain when Leon’s tongue enters your mouth.

“It drives me crazy. I can’t even watch you do your job without wanting to kill anyone who tries to hurt you,” Leon says after pulling away, “please just let me-”

Not that you didn’t want to hear Leon beg, you decide to take mercy on him by pulling him into another kiss with a hand at the back of his neck.

“Please,” you whisper against his mouth when the kiss ends. You bring your hips up to press your hard cock to his, the both of you moaning at the feel.

Leon nods before he brings on his hands between your bodies to wrap his fingers around your cocks. They’re wet and warm around your cock, and you can already tell that it won’t take you long to cum, that and also the sight and sound of Leon above you.

Though you spent much more time than you wanted to admit imagining the sounds Leon would make, hearing them in person just didn’t compare to your imagination. “Such a good boy,” Leon moans, a sound that goes straight to your cock, “letting me take care of you,” he says as the pace of his strokes speeds up.

“Thank you,” you moan, “it feels so good,” you say as your head falls to the pillow beneath it and you feel your orgasm build.

“Are you close?” He asks.

You’re almost too distracted as your eyes track a bead of sweat that runs down the side of Leon’s forehead, but when you open your mouth to respond, your orgasm takes you by surprise. The feeling of it runs through your veins as hot ropes of cum shoot from your cock onto your stomach, you just hoped it didn’t land on your bandages.

Above you, Leon groans as he goes even faster. Just moments after yours, Leon joins you in orgasmic bliss. The sight and sound of Leon’s orgasm only lasts a few minutes, but you can tell it’s something you won’t forget for a long time.

“Does that answer your question?” You ask as Leon lays himself down onto your chest, careful to not try and jostle your injury.

“Hm?” Leon rumbles, too out of it to answer the question, “did you ask if you wanted to go lay in your bed for the rest of the day together?”

It takes a few days for you to feel well enough to go back to work, and on your drive to the station, you can’t help but wonder if it would have taken even longer if Leon hadn’t come to see you.

Still too early to be fully competent, Ada greets you as you’re placing your lunch in the fridge. You had to quickly wipe the smile from your face as you remembered the night before in your kitchen with Leon packing your lunch while stealing kisses from each other as you went along. Before he left your place, you practically had to push him out the door for him to leave, while you had to keep yourself locked in place to keep from following.

“I am a little jealous, you know,” she says, leaning against the counter next to you.

“Jealous?” You ask, unsure if you heard her correctly from being too tired.

“You’re way too cute for old man Leon.”

Your brows furrow as you close the door to the fridge, “aren’t you older than Leon?”

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x male reader #leon kennedy x male reader smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader smut

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steviescrystals · 9 months ago

Text

sorry i’m actually not done this is my diary now

i seriously need to get a new job and start making money again asap bc i cannot keep living at home much longer it’s driving me insane

(wrote an entire essay in the tags without meaning to oops)

#like i said it feels like nothing has gone right for me in so long #and it continues to hurt more and more every day bc the few times something does go my way something eventually ruins it #it’s like the universe keeps giving me good things and then taking them away and then in the end it’s just another thing that went wrong #bc it didn’t last and it feels like everything i gain eventually becomes another thing i lose #that job i can’t shut up about? it felt like the first big thing that had gone my way in forever and even though i complained about it a lot #(bc work is work and it’s never enjoyable 100% of the time) i really did love it and it was one of the only things i had motivation for #there were so many times i would start to spiral again and the one thing that kept me going was ‘at least i have this job’#and then despite putting in so much time and effort and pretty much making it my whole life i got laid off with no explanation #and i try to have the mindset that even though it ended badly it was still a good thing bc i met so many friends i love at that job #but even that makes me sad bc i can’t seem to really hold on to any of those friends and it’s like getting left behind by my high school-#-friends all over again just when i thought i was finally making new solid connections #most of those work friends stopped reaching out as soon as i got laid off like now that we don’t see each other at work all the time #there’s no reason to even talk to each other let alone spend time together #and the ones that do talk to me still never have time to see me bc they already had lives and friend groups outside of work that i was-#-never a part of bc i don’t go to school with them or live near them etc etc #the one friend i met there that i talk to almost every day and am the closest with is also literally the furthest away #she works at her family business in another state every summer so she’s gone may-september and after quitting the job we met at she-#-took a seasonal job for the winter in the same industry as her summer job so she was gone again november-april #i got to spend time with her for 3 days while she was home and then she left for the summer and she gets back a week after my birthday #and it’s been hard enough only getting to see her every 3-5 months but in october she’s moving to texas so who knows when i’ll see her again #obviously i know the world doesn’t revolve around me and the universe isn’t out to get me #but it’s just hard to find happiness in anything when it feels like every good thing in your life eventually gets taken away #and all you end up with is more sadness or more loneliness and more to miss #it’s like 1 step forward and 5 steps back over and over and over #for the past 3 years i’ve been saying ‘this is the most depressed i’ve ever been’ and it’s true every time bc it just keeps getting worse #and i know i can’t truly know what anyone else is going through but it feels like all my friends lives are getting better except mine #and i don’t want to be a burden on anyone but i’m human and i need support but every time i try to talk to my friends about this stuff #they never seem to hear me when i say how bad it is and idk if they don’t get it or if they just don’t care enough to listen #idk. this is all so self centered but i feel like i have nothing going for me and no one who can be there for me the way i need them to be #vent

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mickittotheman · 9 months ago

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Hello can I ask for gallavich + 36 for the kisses prompt? Thank you 😄

Hello!!! Yes yes of course!

36. ...to give up control

Mickey didn't think the whole kiss thing would be a big deal.

Well, okay, scratch that. He’d known it would be a big deal. It had been a big deal. Had been a huge fucking deal and had left his heart racing and his lungs hitching and his lips tingling for hours afterwards, even through the chaos of getting shot in the fucking ass.

But it wasn’t like– it wasn't some big thing. He just did it to prove a point, to prove he could, to get a one up on that creepy ass pedo hanging around Ian and taking him on dates and ordering him fucking room service.

Except now he hasn’t been able to get it out of his head since. And he hasn't seen Ian since. And he’s kinda driving himself fucking insane.

It wasn't even an actual proper fucking kiss. No tongue action, no biting, no hot and heavy groaning. Just their lips smashed together awkwardly in the driveway of that fuckwad’s house, Mickey’s brothers just yards away. If that had been enough to get Mickey this worked up, what the fuck will it be like when they kiss for real?

If they kiss for real.

They probably will.

Fuck.

Mickey gets all tangled up in himself, the way he always does when it comes to stupid shit like this, stuff that shouldn’t mean anything but actually means everything and could absolutely get him killed but actually makes him feel more alive than he’s ever felt. He’s jittery when he goes in for his shift– the first one he’s working since being shot (again). He jumps at the sound of the bell chiming above his head. Tenses as he sees Ian’s head whip around towards the door.

“Mick!”

Mickey makes some non-committal grunting sound and beelines towards the donut case.

For the first few hours, it's fine. Ian doesn't bring it up, doesn't even hint at it. He’s got way bigger shit going down with his family to deal with. The stupid kiss probably isn't even a blip on his radar.

They end up in the freezer like they always do. They can’t fuck with Mickey’s bullet wounds, but he gets Ian off with his hands and Ian gets him off with his mouth, and it’s not as good as fucking but it gets the job done.

After, as they’re both grinning and panting and getting their belts situated, Ian tries to kiss him.

When Mickey pushes him away, it’s more out of habit than anything. He flushes, feeling stupid as hell, but Ian’s already smiling sheepishly and pulling away.

“Sorry. Should probably brush my teeth or something, huh?”

Mickey shrugs at him. Gnaws at his lower lip. Feels his breath hitch as Ian’s gaze darts down to his mouth.

Ian turns away and heads back up front.

+++

It keeps happening. The second time Mickey pushes him away–( when Ian tries to give him a fucking goodbye kiss like they’re fucking boyfriend and girlfriend)– Ian goes all quiet and sullen and mopey.

The third time, he gets pissed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

They’re in the freezer again. They’d only just stumbled in. Up until a second ago, Ian had been pressed up against him, hands groping every part of Mickey he could reach.

“What?” Mickey snaps, cheeks burning against the cold air, scowl firmly in place. He didn't even push him away this time! He made sure he didn’t, made damn well sure to keep his reflexes on lockdown, but he must have let some little twitch or flinch slip through the cracks because now Ian’s pulling back to glare at him.

“I am such an idiot,” Ian mutters. Mickey is inclined to agree. “I should have known better.”

Mickey bristles. “The fuck are you going on about now?”

“Oh please, you fucking know–”

Mickey gathers his wits and his guts and shuts him up with a kiss.

Ian tenses, then melts, lips softening under Mickey’s, bigass hands coming up to slide through Mickey’s hair.

Mickey’s breath hitches. He lets out this weird little noise. He pulls back.

Ian’s lips chase after his, and Mickey flinches, and just like that Ian’s tense again. “Stop doing that–”

“I’m not fucking flinching like a little bitch on purpose–”

“Not that,” Ian scoffs. He tightens his fingers in Mickey’s hair when Mickey tries to pull away. “Stop kissing me just to prove a fucking point!”

“I thought you wanted me to kiss you–”

“I want you to want to kiss me! I want it to mean something! Instead you’re just using it to– to– to try and fucking gain control–”

“Jesus fucking christ, Ian, stop being such a girl!”

Ian huffs and pulls away, and he’s right, he is an idiot, because how can he not fucking get it?

“It’s not– I’m not–” Mickey cuts off with a low growl. Scrubs hard at his mouth, trying to force the words out, because he knows he can barely fucking offer Ian anything but he’s gotta at least give him something. “When I– When I kiss you, or whatever,” Mickey starts again, skin hot and face flushed and every bone in his body protesting, “I’m not tryna fucking control you.”

There’s more he could say. Like how every time he kisses Ian he’s giving up the meager amount of control he has, how that fucking scares him and exhilarates him and maybe that makes him a pussy but its the fucking truth, how he’s trying, really fucking trying, and he needs Ian to see that.

He doesn't say any of that shit. But he thinks Ian gets it anyways.

Ian stares at him for a long moment with that weirdass intense look he sometimes gets in his eyes. “So you do want to kiss me?”

Mickey rolls his eyes and tries not to squirm. “The fuck do you think?”

“And you want me to kiss you?”

Mickey shrugs. Nods, just once, the movement sharp and short and jerky.

Ian squints at him for another eternity before taking a deep breath. He brings his hands up slow, works his fingers into Mickey’s hair again, and when he leans in Mickey still flinches except this time Ian doesn’t stop. He seals their lips together, steady and sure, and doesn’t give Mickey more than a split second to adjust before darting his tongue out.

Mickey gasps, just a bit. It’s enough to give Ian the leeway he needs to work Mickey’s mouth open further.

Holy fuck.

Mickey gets his hands on Ian’s hips to wrench him closer. Ian retaliates by yanking on Mickey’s hair, tugging until Mickey’s head is angled just right, and Mickey has to pull back enough to suck in a sharp breath.

“Fuck, Mickey,” Ian hums. “You taste so fucking good.”

Mickey sincerely fucking doubts that– knows for a fact that his mouth tastes like cigarettes and burnt coffee and the chocolate bar he scarfed down earlier– but then Ian bites down hard on Mickey’s lower lip and Mickey loses his train of thought.

And maybe kissing ain’t such a big fucking deal afterall. And maybe, just maybe, it’s a huge fucking deal.

send me a number~

#prompt games #gallavich #my scribblings #i am so sorry this took so long i hope it was worth the wait!

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queen-of-the-avengers · 6 months ago

Text

My One and Only, My Lifeline

Pairing: NASCAR!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: angst, crash and injuries

Summary: Steve is a famous NASCAR driver who finds the thrill in driving at high speeds. You’re there at every one of his races, praying that he’ll make it out without injury. Sometimes, God doesn’t answer prayers and then the worst happens.

Squares Filled: "I'm just trying to sound tough" (2021) for @star-spangled-bingo

Author’s Note: i saw this video on tiktok and i immediately drew inspiration for it. go check it out!

One of the most dangerous jobs in your opinion is race car driving like NASCAR, but your boyfriend is very skilled at it. He has always had a passion for racing even when he was a teenager. There were underground racing groups that would take their precious muscle cars and go so far out of town that there wouldn’t ever be people on the road to crash into. Hundreds of kids would gather to watch the race and almost all of them would place bets on the best driver, that being Steve.

Steve claimed he loved the thrill of it but you know the fame was a big part of it to. He felt untouchable. Everyone tried racing him but he had all the best things. It didn’t help his dad was the best mechanic in town that would often supply Steve with the best parts. Still, Steve didn’t need it. He had raw talent on his side.

There was this one time when Steve’s opponent got so mad that he lost against him that he declared a rematch but the driver had to pick who got to drive their car. He picked someone he thought was the best while Steve immediately went to you. You have never driven like he does a day in your life but he trusted you to drive his car without question.

He sat in the passenger seat and watched you with heart eyes as you drove as smoothly as he did. The cops were called about the illegal racing and came to shut it down, and you passed by the finish line and continued driving away. The cops almost nailed you two but you made a swift escape by outrunning a train. There was an opening that Steve didn’t think you’d make but you proved him wrong that night.

It was thrilling but it was something you never wanted to do again. You’d leave that for Steve to do.

Eventually, he moved out of state with you and applied for NASCAR. It took him a long time to actually drive on the track and when he did, he impressed everyone. His rise to fame was fast, almost too fast for you to keep up. Before, you’d go out with him to the store without issue. Now, you can’t go anywhere without women falling head over heels for him or men asking him to sign things.

It makes Steve happy so you don’t say anything about it. It could be worse but you often wish that things could go back to underground racing and running from the cops.

You walk into the area with your laminated VIP pass slung over your neck like a necklace. From Steve’s first race to now, you have never missed one. Even when you were in the hospital for a broken leg, you still found a way to cheer him on from the stands. Steve’s been part of the same pit crew for years so they all know you like you’re part of their little family. They allow you to be with the crew because you’re always out of their way.

All you want to do is support your man as close as you can get.

“Hey, Tony!” you greet the man responsible for designing Steve’s car. Tony took a shot at Steve years ago and has been his sponsor ever since. “How’s Pepper?”

“At home with Morgan. I told her she could come but she didn’t want Morgan around here.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want a six-year-old here either.”

“You’re here.” You turn around and see Steve jogging over to you. “I’m just about to go out.”

“Go kill it, baby,” you grin.

He kisses you twice--once because he loves you and one more for good luck. He slides his helmet on and hops into his car through the window since the doors don’t open. Cars don’t have any opening doors to protect the drivers in case they crash. They can roll safely knowing a door won’t open and they’d be ejected from it. You fear for Steve’s life whenever he gets into that car and pray that he makes it through this race unscathed.

It’s worked so far… until it doesn’t.

Steve slides into his car and does the pre-race checkup with his pit crew before driving over to the group of cars that are already driving slowly along the track. They do that as they wait for everyone to prepare for it. As soon as everyone is in line, they set up the starting line witht he large green flag in the air. Just like how a flip is switched, every single driver presses on the accelerator and the race is on.

It’s hard to determoine who will come out on top in the beginning os everyone is fair game. It’s only until they reach the mid-mark that people start to get an idea of who is going to come in the first five spots. Steve pulls into the pit area and stops so his crew can give the car fuel and change his tires all at an alarming speed. It amazes you how quickly his team works.

You sit with your elbows on your knees and rub your hands together from how nervous you are. Cars race by in the blink of an eye, round and round they go. This race is three hundred and twelve laps and Steve just passed the three hundred mark. The race is nearly done and he is neck and neck with his biggest opponent, Baron Zemo.

“Y/N, he wants to talk to you.”

You get up and take the headset from one of the crew members, Bucky.

“Steve?”

“Baby, talk to me. Give me words of encouragement.”

“You can do this, Steve. I’m so proud of you and I’ll be proud of you no matter the outcome.”

“No, do better.”

“Uh… Oh! If you don’t win this, I’m going to leave you for another man.”

“No man will ever get the chance to touch you,” he smirks.

“Go kill it, baby.”

“You know I will.”

You take the headset off and hand it back to Bucky. Eleven laps to go.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

You’re standing on the edge where the concrete barricade is. It feels like your head is going to explode from the lack of oxygen because you’re holding your breath in anticipation. If you even blink, you fear you’ll miss it.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Nearly there. Steve and Zemo are neck and neck as they come across the final three laps. You’re not sure which one is going to win. One half of the audience is cheering for Steve while the other half is rooting for Zemo.

Three.

Two.

You prayed for tonight to go according to plan but not all prayers reach God. There are some that fall through the cracks, this time, it’s yours. It’s the last lap and it’s clear that Zemo isn’t going to win this one. He does the one thing that would ensure his first place prize. All it takes it one swerve of his car and Steve gets thrown off balance. His car is slammed into concrete wall before swerving toward the grass. It flips twice and comes to a screeching halt.

Time slows down for you. Nothing else matters but your boyfriend. You open your mouth and scream his name but you don’t hear it. You heave yourself over the concrete barricade and sprint right into the tracks. The crew members try grabbing at you to keep you from running onto the tracks with dozens of racecars.

Silence befalls the audience as they watch with horror from the accident. Not even Zemo’s side are cheering for his run. Everyone saw what he did. He betrayed Steve and causes him to crash just so he could get the nearly eight million dollars. You take a step onto the track and almost get knocked back by cars speeding past you.

You find your first opening and run across the track as fast as you can before the next wave of cars can come. Thirty feet before you get to Steve’s car, the engine blows up in flames. Reality comes rushing at you at full speed.

“Steve!”

HIs pit crew is already trying to make their way over to help but you’re not sure what they can do about the smoke bellowing out of the car. You get on your knees and look through the open window to see him coughing inside.

“Steve! Grab my hand!”

Steve looks at you with dazed eyes. He must have hit his head on the ceiling. He struggles to get into a position that can slide him right out of the car but he doesn’t stop trying. You reach in to help but your arm touches the hot, hot metal of the dashboard. You hiss in pain but ignore it because Steve is top priority.

Bucky grabs your shoulder and gently moves you out of the way so that he and the crew can get him out. They’re better qualified than you are. Bucky pulls Steve out of the car only moments before the rest of the car gos up in flames. He has scratches to his leg and bruising on his face but you think he’ll be okay.

“Y/N, are you nuts? You could have gotten yourself killed.”

“You’re bleeding, Steve.”

“I’m okay.” He winces from pain which means he’s clearly not okay. “Okay, I’m just trying to sound tough. You really shouldn’t have come out here. It was stupid.”

“Nothing is stupid when it comes to you. I thought… I can’t lose you, Steve.”

Steve stays seated on the ground and waits for the paramedics to come and you sit right nex to him to keep him company. Steve grabs your hand and notices the burn on your forearm.

“Shit, Y/N, you’re burned. You could have died.”

“So could you. Your life is tied to mine. If you die, then I die.”

Steve kisses you quickly to assure you that he’s going to be okay.

“I can’t die now,” he chuckles painfully. “Winning means nothing if you’re not next to me.”

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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