#these are my 3am thoughts leave me alone

[vgeta]

I see some people interpreting Laios to be super ripped but I'm here to tell you, you're all wrong. As small belly Laios enthusiast and CEO, I'm telling you he's definitely strong but he 100% has a little belly.

I do not accept criticism.

[gringadano]

[anothermonikan]

(；′⌒`)

[noctistrash]

I wanna get back into writing - I say as I make zero effort to at least open a blank doc

[crying-stardust]

Learning how to quiet my mind.

[dearest-nell]

here comes your man

s. harrington x f!reader, 2.1k

summary: you go to pick up your very drunk boyfriend from the bar after a well deserved night out warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, reader uses she/her pronouns

a/n: i was half asleep when i wrote this so all i can say is my bad, and i hope my three am deleirum brings you some joy

Hey… you might wanna come pick up your Stevie-Boy. He’s a bit wrecked...

It was a phone call you had half expected, though you didn’t mind admitting that you wished it had not come at 3am on your Saturday night. Steve had been so excited for a night out with the boys – work seemed to be piling onto him more than usual, and more often than not you’d find him half asleep on the couch by 8pm, arm propped uncomfortably beneath his head and back twisting awkwardly. This night came along with the extra TLC you prescribed him this week, taking on a little extra responsibility around the house so he might relax even just for a moment. Steve was a caretaker by trade, and doing things for himself seemed to hark back to a time where he only did things for himself. It took a lot for him to rewire that belief in his brain – self care did not mean selfish, he was a good person. 

You thought that the time out with his friends would remind him of that; how wonderful he was, how loved he was. He could be without responsibility for a night and simply enjoy himself. And enjoy himself he was… you hadn’t heard such an amused lilt to Eddie’s tone for a long time. You spent the drive over pondering just what kind of state your boyfriend might be in, your eyes heavy, body cooling with the iced air that blew through windows opened in an attempt to keep yourself awake. Eddie at least had sounded coherent, so you figured you would not be alone in the battle to try and haul your boyfriend into your beat up car. 

Dressed for the comfort of your own home, it took one disgruntled look towards a stubborn bouncer to let you past without paying an entry fee. You wondered how often this happened – half asleep partners turning up moments before closing to take their inebriated darling home. The thought made you chuckle softly to yourself, body weaving through the stragglers of the night still dancing to a wrapping up DJ. 

Eddie had told you they’d meet you by the lounges when you arrived, though Steve was nowhere to be seen as you approached your tired looking friend, his face pleased, if not a little weary. 

“Where is he?” You questioned, letting Eddie lean down to wrap his arms around you tightly, his weight pressing heavier on you that you had expected under the influence of what you assumed had been many, many shots. 

“At the bar. I thought he’d crashed half an hour ago, but he’s had a second wave.” 

You felt the short burst of laughter bubble up, an unsurprised uh-huh leaving your lips at the notion, eyes drifting towards the thinning crowd collected for the last call. Eddie let you go with a shrug, stepping back to let you go. 

“Alright, I’ll go get him. I’ll wave if I need you, ‘kay?” The nod you received was answer enough, and you set off leisurely towards your unsuspecting boyfriend. 

Steve was half hunched over the bar, palm rolling an empty shot glass flatly across the sticky surface as he waited for an already busy bartender. You couldn’t see his face, but you could picture the expression with such clarity – eyes heavy, blinking slowly as they tracked blearily across the back of the bar, that sweet, contented smile plastered on his lips for no reason at all. 

Following suit, you leaned yourself up against the bar beside him, elbows propping you up to rest your head in your palms. 

“You getting another drink, handsome?” 

Steve made a soft sort of mumbling sound, his head lulling to the side as he leaned away ever so slightly. “Mm, yeah… think so.” 

You nodded, smiling at the way he swayed on his feet. “Oh, I see. You wanna have some water with me?” 

Steve rubbed harshly at his face, eyes screwing shut tightly before blinking hazily at you. “No, thanks.” 

His gaze turned away, his grip on the shot glass faltering for a moment, reflexes only just catching it before rolling over the edge. You reached slowly to pluck it from his hand, though he recoiled sluggishly at the contact, forcing your brow up into a curious arch. 

“How about I take you home, then? Seems like they’re wrapping up.” 

Steve sighed, hands running through his hair in that same familiar flustered motion you were so acquainted with. Ordinarily, Steve would have been bouncing out of his skin to see you, but right now, he seemed like he wanted to be anywhere else. 

“Look, it’s nice of you to ask, but ’m taken. My girlfriend’s comin’ to get me.” 

Oh, how sweet. You’d never seen Steve so far gone that he hadn’t recognised you, but now that you focused your own tired eyes, you could see that his own were barely open to begin with. Your smile widened, amusement settling over you at the sweetness of him. 

“Really? You’re not even gonna look at me? Maybe I’m worth breaking the rules for.” 

He scoffed at that, body straightening up as much as his addled state could allow, his feet stumbling beneath him to put another feet of distance between the two of you. 

“I’m sure you are f’someone else, but ‘m not interested.” His tone was more clipped now, friendliness falling away in the hopes of deterring you. “Not another girl in the world for me but her.” 

God, he was sweet, and more in love with you than you could have ever hoped for a person to be. Your heart ached, entirely overwhelmed with adoration for this man who was waiting for you. 

“Well that’s very lovely.” You cooed, turning sideways to look at him, one arm dropping to your side while the other hand continued to prop your chin up, helping to hide that rosy blush that seemed to stain your cheeks. “I really think you should look at me, though, Stevie.”

You watched as the thought crossed his mind, a slow understanding that something about this interaction seemed out of place. It seemed to take another moment for reality to set in, his body turning and eyes widening comically as they came into focus. 

“Honey!” 

It had you in hysterics, the way his arm gave out from under him, narrowly avoiding his torso from smacking down against the bar top as he lurched towards you. Your arms extended out to catch him, meeting him halfway until his body was pressed tenderly against yours, eager hands creeping up to cup your cheeks, holding your face towards his so he might really look at you. 

“You’re here!” 

Your laughter rang out happily, eyes crinkled at the delight mirrored in his own. 

“Yeah, baby, of course I am. Wanted to make sure you got home safe.” 

If an iris could change shape, then you were certain you saw Steve’s melt into delicate hearts just at the thought of you coming out to take care of him. His thumbs ran adoring lines across your cheekbones, trembling slightly with restraint. 

“S’good to me.” He mumbled, words drowning out within the still deafening music that surrounded you. “Missed you.” 

You felt him slump against you ever so slightly, still conscious of weighing too heavily against you even in his inebriated state, though how he was holding himself up anymore was anyone’s guess. It was your sign to wave Eddie over, though, who without fuss looped a supporting arm around Steve’s back. 

“You gonna let your girl take us home, then? I’m gonna pass out, man, I’m so wrecked.” 

Steve’s brow furrowed, alarmed to have been so suddenly pulled back from you to lean on Eddie, and he reached out a hand in a needy sort of motion towards you. “I wanna dance with her before we go.” 

Too sweet for his own wellbeing, you offered him a sympathetic look, slipping yourself under his other arm to help prop him up. 

“We can dance at home just you and me, okay? In our pjs too — won’t that be nice. We just don’t wanna keep Eddie waiting too long; he’s all danced out.” 

You watched the contemplative look cross his features, leaving him distracted enough for Eddie to start guiding the three of you towards the door without much fuss from Steve. 

“Did you have fun though Ed? Really?” Steve asked, genuine concern threading through his tone as he addressed his friend who managed an affirming nod in response. 

“Loads. We’ll all go out again soon, but I’ve gotta give you back to your sweetheart before she gets too jealous.” 

Steve’s nod was so serious as he processed the words, entirely missing the small look of amusement shared between you and Eddie as you pulled yourselves from the establishment. 

“Yeah.” He agreed, his head lulling sideways to rest on the crown of your own. “She needs me.” 

It had sounded like a joke when he said it, but even you could sense the small severity behind the words, almost reassuring himself of the truth behind them. Of course you needed him. 

“Yeah, she does.” You confirmed, kissing at his shoulder clumsily as you tried to focus on your steps, narrowly avoiding toppling the three of you right over uneven pavements underfoot. “I always need you, honey.” 

You did not need to look at Steve to know that he was smiling — you felt it as you held him, felt it in his touch and the heat of his body carefully wrapped around yours. At least this night felt like a success in your eyes. Steve was happy, and you had done your part to make him so. He’d be awfully hungover tomorrow morning, but he’d be happy, and that was all that seemed to matter to you in the moment. 

Eddie managed to hold Steve upright while you fiddled with the lock of your car door, the boy now contently distracted with regaling tales of the night to the man who had witnessed them first hand. Getting him into the car was easy enough, tucking him cautiously into the front seat, your body leaning over him to click his seatbelt into place, his hand lifting to rub at your lower back in thanks. 

“You’re the best, y’know, baby? The real best. The best best.” 

You paused to smile at him, head shaking in amusement before brushing your lips against his cheek, relishing in the way his hand gripped excitedly at you for the briefest of moments. “I could say the same about you, y’know.” 

“Nuh uh.” 

A groan sounded from outside the car, drawn out and exasperated beyond compare. “Jesus H Christ, I’m begging for someone to take me home. It’s so fucking late, guys.” 

You pulled back with a laugh to witness Eddie’s petulance, your hand coming out to gesture to the back seat. “Then get in the car, dingus, and I’ll take you home.”

“Yeah, what she said!” Steve slurred from the front seat, the battle against his weariness now long lost, eyes closed and head resting heavily against its back, unable to hold itself up any longer. 

Eddie clambered into the back with a half assed eye roll, splaying out across the work back seat until he, too, was one with the upholstery. “You guys aren’t gonna be gross and sayin’ i love you’s all the way home, are you?” 

Steve’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh shit, I haven’t said I love you yet!” 

The charming little frown that spread across his face was enough to melt you in your entirety, your hand reaching out to brush his check with affection, his nose nuzzling sweetly into the cup of your palm. “I’m not worried about it; I know you do.” 

“Yeah, but I do love you. I was thinkin’ it the whole time, thinkin’ you’re so pretty n’ all. So pretty that I couldn't remember to say it.” 

Eddie just huffed again in the back seat, his complaints overtly ignored despite the growing expletives.

“I love you too, Stevie. How about we get Eds home and get you some water, then we can be as sweet as we wanna be.” 

Steve’s lips pressed into your palm, his kiss unhurried and uncoordinated as the alcohol hindered his usual grace, a mumbled m’kay tickling your skin as he spoke. 

You looked up into the rearview mirror, dropping your hand to Steve’s knee for the boy to hold, keeping his neediness satiated for the time being as he grasped it between his own eagerly. “You hear that, Eds? You’re in the clear. Let’s get you boys home.” 

A grumbled thank god and the creaks of the backseat window being clumsily wound down was enough incentive to start your travels, a pleased smile gracing your lips to know that Steve had been given exactly the night he deserved after all. 

[winterarmyy]

Steal Me Away

Glimpses of the grumpy chubby alpha!bucky's love life.

Summary: When Bucky was stuck in an unpleasant lunch with his co-workers; he thought about how nice it would be if someone comes and steals him away.

Navigation: Prequel || Main Story I || Main Story II || Main Story III

Pairing: chubby alpha!bucky x omega!female!reader

Words: 2.6k++

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics. no plot, just fluff. low-key body shamming, bullying, bucky and his omega being adorable. (tell me is there's anything else I missed)

P/S: Impulsive writing at 3am in the morning because I couldn't sleep, then left the draft to rot for weeks, now posted. Also tagging @serendipitouslife90 because she's the biggest fan of this au. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this short fic and happy reading! 🤍

Read my other works here: Masterlist

The morning sun filtered through the blinds of Bucky’s cubicle, casting narrow strips of light across his cluttered desk. The office was its usual sanctuary of muted tones and hushed conversations. Colleagues navigated the aisles like cautious explorers, their brief nods to Bucky barely concealing their unease.

He didn’t mind. In fact, he preferred it this way. Solitude was his comfort zone, and he relished the uninterrupted focus on his work.

Bucky tapped away at his keyboard, the rhythmic clacking serving as his meditation. His thoughts were like the lines of code he worked with; orderly, precise, and devoid of unnecessary embellishments. Socializing was a distraction he neither wanted nor needed.

The occasional murmurs of sympathy about his less-than-ideal body shape for an Alpha like him, or the prosthetic arm he wore to make up for his imperfection, had long since ceased to bother him. They were background noise in the symphony of his workday.

Two weeks had passed since Bucky had last seen y/n, their second date now a vivid but distant memory. Their time together had been cut short, both of them consumed by the relentless demands of their careers. Especially for Bucky, the high-pressure world of software engineering was unforgiving.

Ever since he was in school, he always had the knack for tech but as he grew up, his path lead away from it. Then after his abrupt release from military service, he was lost for a moment. He lost his position and quite literally his limb. After he was introduced to Stark Technologies for is prosthetic, his interest in tech bloomed once more.

Fast forward, he had transitioned to civilian life with a single-minded focus on his career. The transition from soldier to software engineer had been a challenging yet rewarding shift, one that demanded every ounce of his dedication.

His days were a blur of client meetings, coding marathons, and sleepless nights, leaving him barely enough time to recharge. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't escape the gnawing sense of guilt that tugged at him.

Y/n had been understanding, insisting that they could take things slow and that she was patient. Yet Bucky felt a pressing need to make up for the lost time, to show her that she was more important than the endless stream of work that consumed him.

His longing for her was a constant undercurrent in his daily routine, a reminder of the connection he cherished and the promises he hoped to fulfill, even amidst the chaos of his demanding schedule.

Lunchtime arrived with an uncharacteristic intrusion; Brock’s insistent presence. Bucky had settled into his usual corner of the break room, anticipating a quiet meal alone.

But Brock, with his usual smirk, plopped down across from him, completely unfazed by Bucky’s visible discomfort.

“You know, Bucky,” he started, his tone laced with false camaraderie, “maybe you should join us for lunch this time. Walk off that fat in your belly, and maybe, just maybe, might help you lose a few pounds and get that soldier body of yours again.”

The comment triggered a ripple of reactions around the break room. A few colleagues, particularly those who fancied themselves as superior alpha, snickered behind their coffee cups, enjoying the moment at Bucky’s expense. The rest of the room fell into an awkward silence; some looked away, unable or unwilling to get involved, while others exchanged nervous glances, wary of crossing the line with either of the alpha males.

Bucky’s mind raced with a mix of frustration and contemplation. Brock’s taunts were nothing new, but the timing was particularly irritating. With his packed schedule and the constant pressure of meeting deadlines, Bucky had barely had a moment to breathe, let alone deal with petty office politics.

The jabs felt like an unnecessary complication in an already strained day. His thoughts were a whirlwind of frustration; he wondered why he always ended up the target of Brock’s remarks and whether it was a reflection of his own choices or just Brock’s way of asserting dominance.

The palpable tension in the room only added to his mounting irritation.

Bucky’s jaw clenched, his irritation simmering beneath a thin veneer of politeness. “Yeah, sure. Why not?” He didn’t bother hiding the grumble in his voice. His work would have to wait, and so would his patience.

The café buzzed with conversation and clinking dishes, an atmosphere of forced cheerfulness that did little to mask the underlying tension. Bucky took his seat with a sigh, his mind already drifting to y/n, the image of her smile a soothing balm to his frayed nerves.

Brock wasted no time in launching his passive-aggressive jabs, each comment about Bucky’s weight or his vibranium prosthetic arm more cutting than the last. Bucky could feel the rage bubbling up, but he forced himself to stay calm, focusing instead on the thought of y/n. The warm glow of her presence seemed to wrap around him, even in the midst of Brock’s taunts.

Brock leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “You know, Bucky, it's always something watching you eat alone. Maybe if you spent less time working and more time mingling; hit the gym with us after work or something. Who knows you might actually find yourself a date for once.”

The remark seemed casual, almost playful, but it carried a veiled sting. It wasn’t just about Bucky’s solitary lunchtime habits; it was a pointed jab at his single status, suggesting that his lack of romantic success might be due to his social ineptitude and undesirable body.

Bucky’s patience snapped. He leaned forward, his voice cold and controlled. “I don’t know, Brock. Honestly, it’s much better to be alone than to ‘mingle’ with someone who’s all bark and no bite.” He fearlessly maintained his cold gaze; eyes seemingly bore the words his lips never spoke. “…Like you”

Brock's face flushed a deep crimson, and his jaw tightened in a futile attempt to maintain composure. He muttered something about needing a smoke before hastily exiting the room, his pride stinging from the unexpected jab. The rest of the team sat in an uneasy silence, the tension almost tangible.

They watched as Bucky’s eyes bore into Brock’s retreating figure, cold and unyielding. There was something almost feral in his gaze, a silent promise of consequences that only someone with true authority and control could convey.

Everyone knew better than to provoke him further; Bucky's look was a chilling reminder that he played by his own rules.

Brock stepped out of the café, his frustration boiling over as he lit a cigarette. With each inhale of nicotine, he muttered darkly under his breath, cursing Bucky and grumbling about how that fat-ass loser like him had the audacity to undermine his clearly more superior alpha status.

His anger was a tempest, raging against the affront to his ego.

As he paced, his gaze drifted to the sidewalk next to the café, where a striking woman in a sundress was engrossed in her phone. The late afternoon sun highlighted the gentle curves of her figure, and her unblemished skin glowed softly, exposed at the back of her neck.

Brock’s eyes raked over her with a predatory appreciation, the male gaze undeniable in his scrutiny.

Her poised stance and soft demeanor hinted at an aura of femineity that intrigued him. A smirk curved his lips as he took another drag from his cigarette, already imagining how he might woo her, hoping that a little charm could be the distraction he needed from his bruised pride.

Back in the café, Bucky was still seated at the table, surrounded by the typical midday hustle, yet he remained ensconced in a bubble of tranquility. His attention was focused solely on his phone, where a soft, contented smile played on his lips. The noise of the café faded into the background as he read through y/n’s messages.

Each word from her was a thread that connected him to a part of his life that felt more real and meaningful than the relentless grind of his daily routine.

Y/n had inquired about his lunch, her questions laced with genuine curiosity. “How was your lunch?” “Was it any good?” “How’s your day been so far?” The inquiries seemed almost innocent, yet they carried a warmth that enveloped him.

And then, the message that tugged at his heartstrings: “I miss you.” It was as if her words had the power to reach through the screen and touch him directly, offering a solace that was hard to find amidst the chaos left from the prior event.

He missed her deeply.

The absence of her voice, the comfort of her presence. He wished that she could just steal him away; or perhaps he would be stealing her away?

Eitherway, he just wants to get out of here.

As he glanced at the time, noting that he still had about thirty minutes before he needed to return to the office, he made a quick decision. He would step outside for a moment, away from the unnecessary drama, and maybe give her a call.

The thought of hearing her voice, even if only for a brief conversation, was a beacon of light in his otherwise frenetic day. As Bucky stepped out of the café, his gaze remained fixed on his phone, where y/n’s last message glowed softly on the screen.

Unbeknownst to him, the scene unfolding just a few paces away was far less pleasant. Brock, still nursing his bruised ego from their earlier encounter by relentlessly flirting with the girl. “Come on, sweetheart, just one date.” Brock said, his voice low and laced with insincere flirtation.

He leaned in close, a smirk playing on his lips as his hand reached out, brushing against her exposed shoulder. Y/n recoiled slightly, her discomfort palpable. “I’m really not interested,” she said firmly, though her voice carried an undercurrent of unease. “and I have a boyfriend.”

Brock’s persistence only grew more insistent. “I doubt that. I can see you do not have his mark here,” he persisted, his hand lingering uncomfortably on her shoulder, close to where her mating mark supposed to reside. Despite her attempts to shrug off his advances, Brock didn’t relent. His touch was intrusive, and his words edged on harassment. And she can sense the scent of arousal coming from the alpha.

Y/n’s eyes darted around, seeking an escape from the unwanted attention. As her gaze fell behind Brock, she caught sight of a familiar figure; one that seemed to offer a lifeline amidst her distress.

“Bucky?” she called out, her voice tinged with both relief and surprise. The name escaped her lips before she could fully process the situation, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of Bucky walking toward them.

Bucky knew that voice. It was a sound that resonated deep within him, as familiar as his own heartbeat. He lifted his eyes from his phone, and the world around him sharpened into focus. The scene before him was both infuriating and unmistakable: Brock, with his sleazy smirk and inappropriate proximity, stood uncomfortably close to Bucky's omega, his hand hovering dangerously near her exposed shoulder.

A surge of primal fury shot through Bucky, a blaze of anger that burned through his veins and coiled tight in his chest. His eyes blazed with a fierce intensity, a low, guttural growl forming in his throat as he prepared to confront the intruder. His body tensed, ready to pounce.

But before he could make a move, y/n was already in motion. She leaped into his arms with a mix of desperation and joy, catching Bucky off guard. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her, holding her securely against his chest.

Her arms clung tightly to his nape, her face burying itself into the crook of his neck as if seeking refuge; shamelessly scenting him. Her warm breath and soft sighs was a soothing cure to his simmering rage.

The anger that had been boiling inside him began to fizzle away, replaced by a profound sense of relief and love. The sound of her happy purrs, the feel of her soft body pressed against his, and her intoxicatingly sweet scent; all of it made his anger dissolve into a tender, protective affection.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, his arms tightening around her waist as he relished in the comforting closeness. “Hi, sugar.” he whispered, his voice thick with affection and relief.

Bucky's hold loosen as he leaned down, his gentle smile never faltering as he closed the distance between them. His eyes softened with affection, and he pressed his lips against y/n's in a kiss so tender it felt like a whisper. It was a soft, loving caress that spoke volumes more than words ever could.

But before he could pull back, y/n’s playful energy erupted. She cupped his cheeks in her delicate hands, pulling him down to her level with a sudden, joyful enthusiasm.

Her lips attacked his with a flurry of kisses; quick, warm, and full of exuberance. Each kiss left behind a trace of her strawberry-scented lipstick, creating a trail of smudged rosy color across his face. The marks dotted his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, and even his lips, a vibrant testament to her affection.

Amused laughter bubbled up from Bucky, the sound a rare and delightful departure from his usual stoic demeanor. His eyes twinkled with genuine mirth, his grumpy alpha persona completely melted away in the face of y/n’s loving onslaught.

He reveled in the smothering of her kisses, his initial tension and anger forgotten. A satisfied rumble vibrates on his throat, across his chest. The contrast between his earlier anger and the unrestrained joy he now experienced was stark; the shift was almost palpable.

Lost in their own world, the two seemed oblivious to their surroundings. Their display of affection was unabashedly public, a stark contrast to the earlier tension. Y/n looked up at him with bright eyes, her voice filled with eager excitement as she asked if he still had time.

“I want to steal you away.” she said with a playful smile.

Bucky’s smile widened, his heart swelling with happiness. “Of course, sugar. Anything for you.” he replied, his voice tender and filled with genuine warmth.

But as Bucky’s gaze shifted away from y/n and landed on Brock, his soft features momentarily disappeared. His expression hardened, the warmth in his eyes turning to ice. The switch in his demeanor was chilling; an instant transformation from the tender lover to a menacing figure.

The coldness in his eyes was a silent, yet unmistakable warning. It was as though a dark storm cloud had settled over him, a clear signal that Brock's earlier arrogance had crossed an unforgivable line.

The intensity of Bucky’s stare spoke volumes, a silent promise of retribution and a reminder of the strength behind his calm exterior. The abrupt shift in his demeanor was a jarring contrast to the affection he had just displayed, sending a clear message to Brock that any further provocation would be met with unspeakable consequences.

As Bucky and y/n walked hand in hand away from the café, Brock stood there, fuming and humiliated. His attempt to belittle Bucky had backfired spectacularly.

Inside the café, Bucky’s colleagues had their jaws dropped. They were astonished not only by y/n’s ethereal beauty but also by the sight of Bucky, usually so composed and reserved, smiling so openly. They were completely stunned by the unexpected display of vulnerability and affection from the grumpy loner.

The couple continued down the street, their hands clasped together. The afternoon sun cast long shadows as they headed towards their next destination.

Bucky’s smile was genuine, a rare and precious sight as he looked down; memorizing the way her hand perfectly intertwined with his. At that moment, he couldn’t help but think how much he wished y/n would steal him away more often.

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for staying to the end of the fic. Hope you enjoy reading it!

[inthehouseoffinwe]

Fëanor, Fingolfin, and Finarfin loved all their nephews and nieces I take no argument. They showed it in different ways, but there were never any malicious thoughts towards them.

Any competition they had was between each other (though Finarfin was very much youngest sibling literally cba to deal with his older brothers.)

Fëanor: Always has too much food, used to his kids bringing over their respective favourite cousin for a meal because they were out playing too late and he’s not exactly going to send a child home hungry. As they got older it was because they’d been out and this was the closest place to disappear away to and crash. He’s used to seeing various kids sprawled across the carpet in the living room, waking up with headaches and groans. He’ll never admit it, but he finds it hilarious and enjoys seeing the children happy. If his brothers ask? ‘What do you mean they were out, I’ve had your children here with me all night.’

Fingolfin: One day I’ll stop linking this post but I really like how it turned out so you get to see it again! Fingolfin happily lets them traverse his house, go through his belongings. He’s very much a partner in crime, helping them sneak around, acting as lookout. Pretending not to see a majority of sweet pasties disappear overnight. He lives closest to the busy parts of the city, so it’s not unusual for the kids to get ready at his house if they’re going out anywhere or even preparing for Court. Most of the kids have their own shared room, and they’re full to the brim of everyone’s clothes, jewellery, shoes. Essentially a whole wardrobe. It gets messy, but he loves seeing his house full of life. Even if he could do without the mess Tyeko and Iressë bring in… and the various musicals at 3am. ‘You know we never tire of having you here… but perhaps you could tone down the partying? Just a little?’ He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Finarfin: My guy ofc has his house by the sea which like Fingolfin’s, has many many rooms full to the brim with clothes and jewellery. It’s essentially a home away from home for his niece and nephews, they don’t have to pack because everything’s already there. As youngest uncle and closest in age, he’ll just so happen to tell the kids where to have fun. He had the least pressure on him growing up and knows the best places in Tirion and Alqualondë. Going to Finarfin’s is like going on holiday, he’ll back them up and make sure they can do what they want without worrying about their reputations as princes and princesses. ‘The kids are far too stressed and don’t get to come here often, brothers. Let them have their fun. I’ll take care of them.’

Bonus!

Finwë: The mastermind. The accomplice. The alibi. He has a wild side to him born in Cuivienen and honed over the Great Journey. Court life is too stuffy even for him sometimes, let alone his grandchildren. He’s the one telling them all the wild things he got up to in his youth with a wink at the end subtly telling them how to do things their parents definitely would not approve of. High King Finwë would never! High King Finwë definitely would, and he’s making sure his grandkids get the experience too. He’s the one who gets the parents to leave for weeks at a time and his grandchildren have the time of their lives. ‘My sons, you worry too much! Don’t you trust your father?’

[dreamingkitsunewrites]

✧♬•¨a.k.a. What Getting Wasted with GRUNGE BOYFRIEND!CHOSO feels like✧♬• (PT2)

Pt1 here. Inspired Moodboard here

Warning tags: suggestive, mentions of alcohol and weed, nsfw (pin, receiving f!oral)

♬ Inspired by 'I like the way you kiss me' by Artemas ♬

Pt 3?? (I feel like the last? part of this series will be the smuttiest one, already got ideas😏)

✧Grunge! Choso who became Grunge Boyfriend! Choso after you two spent the rest of the night together, wandering around the city. As the sun was about to rise, you were seated on a swing, in the middle of a deserted playground of a local park, talking about your personal stories and venting about how being different by showing your authenticity automathically makes you a weirdo in this fucked up society... Lulled by the lazy back and forth of the swing, you smiled at the sight of your matching platform Doc Martens. Shortly after enjoying the sunrise together, he walked you back home. Standing outside your door, his brows furrowed as you start rummaging through your bag, in search of your dark lipstick.

✧Grunge Boyfriend! Choso who looked like about to pass out as you grabbed his wrist and started writing your phone number on his forearm with your matte lipstick, along with a clear invitation: text me if you wanna be my boyfriend. "Don't worry it will last enough 'till you make it home...it should be long lasting..." You giggled to yourself and placed a final peck on his pale lips, making sure to leave a stain.

✧Grunge Boyfriend! Choso who did text you back as soon as he calmed down his nerves, but still couldn't believe he could call you his now...the mere thought sending chills of anticipation down his spine: he layed in bed for hours, smiling goofily at the ceiling and already fucking his fist while picturing all the naughty things he would have done to you from the following day on, finally able to show the whole world you were nothing but HIS now...

✧Grunge Boyfriend! Choso who never felt alone anymore after you two got together, becoming the cool 'Big Bro' in your friends' circle. He feels contempt every Friday and Saturday night, when you all stumble loudly out of the club together, messing around the underground subway station at 3am. A persistent whistle echoing in your ears until morning from the loud music, pumping through the imposing speakers.

✧Grunge Boyfriend! Choso who loves sloppily making out with you, no matter the situation: holding you on the subway seat on the way home with his strong hands on your waist, totally unbothered by other people watching your tongues connecting shamefully with a sticky line of saliva, or laying on top of your tiny sexy body on the old, worn down couch at your pal's place, ending up groaning against your swollen lips and grinding his needy hips on yours whenever your black-polished nails scratched his sensitive scalp ever so slightly.

✧Grunge Boyfriend! Choso who fucks you missionary style with gritted teeth when he dives into your velvety depths for the first time, trying desperately not to cum instantly and paint your walls white with his hot seed. He instantly develops an addiction to the lewd, wet sounds your small, warm cunt makes when it swallows his fat dick over and over again at every frantic thrust. He finds his little piece of heaven between your thighs and he feels higher than he ever was when he reaches his climax, quivering and whimpering pathetically as a torrent of tiny pearls of cum erupted violently from his pinky, swollen tip, adorning your chest with a sticky necklace of his cum.

✧Grunge Boyfriend! Choso who collapses his whole body weight on you as he fights hard to catch his breath again after tasting the sweetness of your pussy. With his heartbeat slowly coming back to its usual pace, he looks up to you with adoring puppy eyes, meeting your warm smile and asking you if you too enjoyed it. When you nod and cup his face in your palms, he kisses you slowly, savouring every little whine and sigh you confess to his lips.

✧Grunge Boyfriend! Choso who just wanna be your sweetheart and treats you like a princess during the day -showering you with cute plushy animals and smothering you with kisses- just to press your head further into his pillow as he hits it desperately from the back, holding onto to you and leaving marks on your soft buttocks, as he physically cannot resist drilling your cunt when he sees you ass up, face down for him on his bed. He compliments you continuously, telling you how much he loves you and how he deep he wants to feel you. He nuts everytime you call him 'your sweet good boyfriend', moaning words of encouragement as you feel your walls flutter wildly with your impending orgasm.

✧Grunge Boyfriend! Choso whose hazed expressions are priceless when you try weed together for the first time, buying it from a guy who offered you some at the exit of the club. His glassy eyed stare makes him appear even cuter and kissable, while he inhales deeply and drag after drag lets go of any inhibition, confessing the depths of his adoration to you: he lazily repeats he would do ANYTHING for you, he would fight ANYONE to keep you safe in his arms, his pretty beautiful angelic girlfriend, the only one he wants to feel laying her head on his shoulder while staring outside the window on the subway train...

✧Grunge Boyfriend! Choso who wakes up on the cold floor of your antics the morning after with a great headache from all the alcohol and the weed of the previous night. He blushes furiously when you show him the video of his sweet, stammering confession, but he doesn't deny a single word...

Thanks for reading this far, reblogs and comments are appreciated! 🙏

✧Grunge Boyfriend! Choso whose favourite remedy for bad hangovers like this one, is to lock the whole world outside of the door and spend the whole day with you, listening to Nirvana and Radiohead from your vintage vinyl record player in your antic with his head buried for hours between your thighs.

Taglist: @lemonlimecrystal-blog @lordbelkamort @viviennevianna @verydreamerfairy

[artsninspo]

FORGIVELESS - V - BACK AND FORTH IT GO, IT'S HARD, I KNOW 🔄

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➨ rio's library - good girl nbc

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

V - BACK AND FORTH IT GO, IT'S HARD, I KNOW 🔄

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Reader

Word Count: ~2K

Warning: Mentions of cheating & abusive behaviour.

Summary: The aftermath of the tiff between the reader and her soon to be ex husband is explored with Rio and her mother. Rio is confronted with the depths of his feelings for the reader and how to make his next move his best move. This one is fluffy 🧸 and angsty.

It’s late when you wake up in Rio’s bed alone. You don't remember falling to sleep. All of the stress and adrenaline of the day had finally caught up to you. The clock reads 3am and you sigh climbing out of bed. The cold floors cause you to tiptoe into the bathroom. The tiled floors are even colder. When finished in the bathroom you see a loungewear set and smile that Rio has thought of you. You help yourself to a hot shower. It feels like you've been re-wired. The events of the past 24 hours had been too much mentally and physically. Not only had James cheated but he’d been too close to getting physical. As angry as it made you feel it was sad that it even had to come to this. Freshened up you leave the bathroom and find Rio on the couch looking at a chess board studiously. It’s like he senses you immediately and looks up.

“Thanks for the clothes” you smile and he sits back with open arms. You take the invitation sitting on his lap. It feels good to know he has your back. He doesn't need to make a promise or a declaration. He’s shown it every step of the way. Rio didn't do crazy, drama or stress. He had enough problems to sort out. It was how he knew this thing with you was different. You were in his home and in his arms fully dressed. His previous relationships with women had been more transactional. Sex without strings suited his lifestyle and expectations well. The responsibilities and expectations of a committed relationship didn't appeal to him after exiting his teens and early twenties. The world was too big to commit to one person without seeing what else life could offer him.

"Thanks for letting me crash here” you speak first looking up at him. Rio holds you there against him calmly, settling your nerves and anxiety.

“You don’t have to thank me but you should call your mom.” Rio says. He’d watched your phone ring every hour before plugging it up into the charger. There was no need for missing reports but he could tell she was worried. You sigh ready to admit the truth out loud. You still don't want to, knowing the truth will likely break your moms heart worse than it broke yours.

“Can you drop me to the airport? I don't want to talk about it over the phone. I’m her only child” you confess.

“Alright” Rio responds and his calm is too much for you. You mistrust it knowing how much he lives for control and his principals.

“Rio” you say and his eyes close.

“If you're gonna cop a plea for him don't. It’ll piss me off, he almost put hands on you. He doesn't deserve grace. Keep your plausible deniability. Go visit your mom and then meet me in Mexico. You deserve a vacation” He says with his next steps laid out as far as James was concerned.

You swallow your commentary looking Rio in his eyes before sighing. “I’ll come to Mexico. I get a flight from my moms” you concede.

“I’ll get you the flight,” he says. His usual demeanour is gone, there’s no humour or play in his eyes. Lust is absent too; he’s angry, attentive and composed instead. A side you aren’t familiar with. He gets his phone out and then sighs. “Come on, we gotta go now so you can board on time.”

“Rio, I’m alright. Lighten up” you smile trying to lighten things up.

“Let’s not start lying to each other.” He stands dismissing your attempts to placate the situation.

“Just promise me you wont get yourself in trouble” you sigh, willing to drop it with that assurance.

“I won't” he agrees immediately. Relieved you stand getting your purse and necessities. Rio holds his arm around you the entire ride down the elevator and to his car. He keeps a concerned look on you as he drives you to the airport. He pays for your ticket at the counter and sticks close. He doesnt give a fuck if word gets around that he’s been around town with a woman. Hell he wants it to get back to James. That’s part one of his plan. He needs the whispers to make James sick. He’d fuck with James head first before holding him responsible for his actions.

“Call me when you land” he swallows.

“Ok” you nod, walking into his arms. “See you in Mexico” you smile. Rio forces one. Your commitment to make the best of the situation in spite of your obvious pain only infuriates him more. Not wanting to push your process he presses a kiss against your forehead.

“See you later, Mama” he says, letting you go. He stands there until you're cleared and out of his sight. You feel thankful for how attentive he is. The fact that you are hyperventilating right now is in direct correlation with who Rio’s been for you lately. The fact that your eyes are dry and you have a safe place to land is everything to you. The fact that he had someone there to look in on you makes the world. Once on the plane you draft a message to thank him while your phone is on airplane mode. 

The flight is significantly shorter than the drive and you walk through straight to arrivals without any baggage. Your mom greets you with an uneasy smile and you run to her relieved. Her perfume has an instant effect on your nerves and worries.

“Ohh baby, I’m so glad you came,” she says, squeezing you tight.

“Me too Mommy” you admit.

“Are you hungry or do you want to go home?” she asks.

“Starving” you admit having slept on an empty stomach. Checking her watch, your mom sees nothing is open.

“I’ll make your favourite” she smiles, taking your hand.

Once in her car you send Rio a message saying you've landed and are with your mom before sending the one you constructed on your flight. You hope it isn't too much.

“So tell me what’s been going on?”

“What did James tell you?” you ask and she sighs merging onto the freeway.

“That you’ve been absent lately, stopped cooking, cleaning, being around and that you threatened to leave him. He says you think he’s cheated but it’s a misunderstanding. One of his clients has gotten inappropriate and he’s only entertained it via text but not in person. He says he thinks you’ve actually stepped out on him physically. Asked me if you told me anything.” she says and its your turn to sigh.

“Momma-”

“Don’t explain, the panic in his voice told me he was cheating. It was how fast he was talking, how scared he was to lose you. If you think he’s cheated I trust you and I’m so sorry baby.” your mom sighs looking over at you with remorse. Your eyes water, feeling the pain she feels for you.

“He’s been cheating since we moved and she’s fully aware of me, and she talks about me” you confess shaking your head. “I’m done mom.” you add letting a few tears fall.

“I’ll help you move out, for now stay with me” your mom says, surprising you. You frown looking at her. “My love for James is conditional to how you feel about him and how he treats you. The fact that he called me LYING, baby. I’m sorry. He has no shame and I’m disgusted with him. He does not have an ally in me. Hasn’t since he moved you away. I knew something was up when we spent so many weekends having virtual movie marathons.” she says and you look shocked as you arrive at her house. Once parked you follow your mom into her house. A Bachelorette pad, without a single trace of a male touch. You smile feeling the good energy as she heads to the sink to wash up before starting breakfast.

“You don't know how relieved I am to hear you say that” you sigh, sitting at the island as she begins preparing your favourite breakfast. She backs you, oiling the frying pan when she speaks again.

“We haven’t talked in a few weeks, and you dont look like someone who is distraught by cheating. Is he right about there being someone else?” Your mom asks. You feel your face and hands heat. She keeps her back turned giving you privacy and opportunity to lie.

“When I found out I decided I wouldn't be the only one honouring our vows” you confess and when you turn you see your mother is smiling. It's a surprise that she isn't disgusted or disappointed with you. It’s the last thing you expect after your highly moral upbringing. She smiles, shaking her head.

“Good” she says and a smile creeps onto your lips.

“Good?!” you ask shocked.

“Smelled his cologne on you when you hugged me. I’m happy you trust me with the truth and really I’m grateful you're not in pieces” she says. You hold your shirt before remembering you showered at Rio’s using his things.

“MA!” you scoff and she chuckles.

“I’ll never encourage you to stay somewhere you aren't appreciated or treated well. James better not call me again if he doesn't want me to tear his head off. The uppity mother and father of his either.” she adds.

“Thanks mom” you smile giving her a hug and she breathes you in.

“So what's his name?” she asks and over breakfast you giggle.

“Rio?” you respond.

“Baby, not the codename like Japan” your mother laughs and you realise you haven't asked him about his name.

“Rio’s what he’s called,” you tell her honestly before detailing all the PG versions of what you know and your time with Rio. She sits happy for your outlet and his disposition with James. She warns you about Rio’s boundaries, reminding you not to fall too hard and heed what he says. You feel rejuvenated by the time she’s asleep. You sit on your bedroom balcony looking out onto the lake behind the backyard. You respond to Rio’s goodnight text and he calls riding around in his truck. He’s even more fine to you now that your mom knows the truth and approves of your marriage ending in the eyes of the law too.

“What are you smiling about?” he asks.

“Just imagining how much fun we're gonna have in Mexico” you tell him and he smiles.

“Momma gonna let you leave her?” he asks.

“Yeah, she knows about you too” you inform him.

He raises a brow. “And?”

“So far so good. She trusts me and she appreciates you for being here for me.” You tell him.

“Hey” Rio says, getting your attention. You look at him in the camera.

“Don't thank me for being here for you. That's what a mans supposed to do.” he says frankly. “Don't apologise either. I wasn’t upset with you earlier.” he says.

“Rio?” you ask.

“Hmm?” He responds sitting at a red light.

“I never asked, but what's your real name?” You say. Rio smiles as the light goes green glancing at you back on the screen to you.

“Christopher,” he says without hesitation. Smiling as you look at him. You wouldn't have guessed it. Honestly you haven't put any thought into it until your mom had asked if Rio was his real name or a codename like Japan. 

“Christopher” you repeat trying to get a feel for it.

“Get some sleep Mama, i’ll call you tomorrow and text you the details for the trip. Ok?”

“Ok. Good night” you say not liking the emptiness on the line.

“Goodnight” Rio responds feeling it too. You hang up first to ease the tension. It felt like there should be more. But your mother had advised you wisely to take heed of Rio’s initial warning. Endearing terms and lovey-dovey language wouldn't serve the inevitable end that would follow whatever this was. Even if it felt like more now. Cradling your phone in your lap you take in a deep breath getting up and heading back into your room. After completing your nightly routine you check your phone before plugging it up.

Night ❤️

Ria

You smile changing his name back to Rio in your phone. You like the message before sending back one just like it and sleeping tight.

Author's note: Thanks for reading loves! How do we like Momma? How did we like Rio's name reveal? What do we think about how Rio is handling his anger? Comment some baecation activity ideas to put in the next part. Vote, Like & Reblog! Also my inbox is open with ideas. There'll be an intermission after this chapter before I start on the 2nd half of the story.

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TAGS:

@meadows5 @wnbweasley @becauseimher @ariiaeltheedonn @woahthatshitfat @miniaturehideoutmentality @kokobells

[poeticpascal]

White Lies (Joel Miller x Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: Joel would do anything for you. He does anything for you. And he makes sure you don't know a thing.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: violence, Joel kills 3 dudes (what murdaaah?), descriptions of blood and wounds, stitches, Joel feels guilt and shame but is also very soppy and very in love, fuff and angst all tangled up, descriptions of chronic pain

A/n: I have had a bloody nightmare the last few weeks with suspected endometriosis, which is what inspired me to write this. In my head, reader has endo and the medicine is some sort of contraception or strong painkillers to help her manage it. But it isn't explicitly mentioned so you can imagine whatever you most relate to. Please do let me know what you think, and as always, requests are open!

It’s a harsh winter, even by Boston’s standards.

The QZ is coated in a veil of thick snow, the blizzard that took hold weeks ago now bruising the streets with an icy fist.

Joel pulls his coat tighter around himself, grateful at least for the cover the snowstorm offered, the skies foggy and grey. He can slip through the alleyways much quicker, much quieter beneath the frost. His footsteps are erased almost as soon as he leaves them, and when things get messy, he can soothe his wounds in the freeze.

Which is good, because things get messy a lot.

Not that he’d tell you that. You were too pure, too gentle; not unlike the snow that paints your doorframe now.

No, Joel keeps those things from you. The world has been unkind enough, and if he has one purpose now, it’s to protect that sweetness of yours. To collect it, each golden ray of sunshine that so easily radiates from you, to give it back and let you bask in the warmth of your own soul. 

No one deserves it more than you do. Least not him, and yet you’d given him more love, more sweetness, than he could ever dream of.

That’s why he told you he was working a late shift today - sewage, he thinks he said - rather than where he actually is at 3am, catching his death in an old littered alleyway.

He occasionally shifts to avoid the silver moonlight dripping from the gaps in the fire-escape stairs above him. Tonight’s meeting should be a simple one, free from FEDRA’s strict patrols; he’d done this long enough now to know when, and where, was safest for these things.

He stays on high alert, though. Just in case.

Marco’s late. He isn’t known for being the most competent of dealers, but Joel was getting desperate now, and he was the only crook in the QZ who could get what he needed. He was a small man, a bit pathetic looking, really. But he was smart, and he had connections that even Joel couldn’t make for all his smuggling and dealing.

So when Joel’s supplier told him he couldn’t help him anymore, he didn’t have a choice. That’s what he tells himself, anyway.

“Miller, there ya’ are.” Joel’s snapped out of his thoughts, his looming regret of this whole situation, as Marco strolls down the alley. He grins, in the same cocky way he always did, the sort of grin a man who couldn’t win a fight but has enough men who could wrapped around his finger, doing the dirty work for him.

Joel insisted he come alone. Not because he couldn’t handle his goons; he knew he could. Maybe. But it would cause a scene, and draw attention, to something he very much wanted to keep under wraps.

He’s semi-surprised to see the two men walking behind Marco. Deep down, he’d had some faith that the dealer would stick to his word.

“Quiet the fuck down,” Joel warns, seething through his teeth as his eyes search the alley behind them, making sure they hadn’t been heard. “Who are your friends?”

Marco follows Joel’s gaze towards his companions. “They’re just here to observe.”

The men are the same height as Joel, maybe a little taller. He recognises both from the sleazy speakeasies that lie beneath the floors of the QZ. Where the bad guys go. 

One is bald, with a jagged scar carved across his cheek and over his eye. He’s scowling, unlike Marco and the other man, who looks somewhat softer with thick hair grown to his shoulders and brown eyes that stayed on Joel like bedrock.

“That’s not what we agreed,’ Joel growls.

There’s tension in the air, thick, and they must feel it too because Marco’s henchmen each have a hand hovering near their sides, where silver blades reflect the white of the snow.

“I recall us also agreeing that you’d get your meds in return for the money. But we’re doing things a little differently today.” Joel remains stoic, though his eyes turn dark and angry, the moon’s light no longer illuminating his features. Marco tiptoes slowly towards him, getting so close that Joel can feel his breath and raising a hand to pick a piece of lint from his flannel shirt. “I want my money. But you might have to wait a little longer for your meds.”

Joel reacts then, squaring up to him, stepping forward and clenching his fists. The other men wrap their hands around their blades, anticipating a fight. Marco just laughs.

“‘Scuse me?” Joel asks, though they all know he understood what was going on.

“You’re gonna give me the amount we agreed. And then, you’re gonna speak to one of your guard friends, and cut me a deal. Then you might get your meds.”

Joel’s anger swells inside him like a beast, his previous care to stay hidden long gone as he imagines driving his fist into Marco’s smug, son of a bitch face again and again and again. 

He has to think this through, though. He needs those meds. Marco can see the cogs turning. “Just give me the money, Miller. Don’t make this difficult. You can’t take three of us.”

“No?” Joel retorts, already decided in what he’d do next. “I don’t think it’s worth findin’ out. Give me the meds.”

Marco sighs, dropping his head and stepping away from Joel, leaving him to face his men. “Shame, Joel. You really coulda helped us.”

He nods to his men, who immediately draw their blades and attack. The first lands a punch on his face, the weight of it surprising him as he falls back into the railing. Before he can recover, the other has already plunged a blade through his stomach, right below his ribcage. He controls himself, swallows the yell that claws its way up his throat, tries to think. The cold steel of the rail stabs into his back, and when another fist collides with his cheek and sends him to the floor, he uses it to haul himself up and tackle one of the men - the softer one - to the ground with him.

Marco only stands and watches as Joel throws his weight onto the man and smashes his head into the stone floor. The other grabs his shoulder, spinning him round but Joel’s prepared this time and he dodges the swat of his knife. Instead he throws a punch into his stomach, making him double over which gives Joel the opportunity to grab the knife strapped to his calf and drive it through the bald man’s throat. He stumbles, collapsing to the floor with a choked cry, and Joel turns back just in time to see the other man trying to stand, though the injury to his head makes him dizzy. Joel stands first, easily pushing the man to the ground, and stomping on his head with as much force as his steel-toed boots would let him. Both men stay down.

Marco has regressed into the darkness of the alley, and he looks somehow smaller than usual. He’s pathetic, and if this was any other job, he’d laugh. But this wasn’t a laughing matter, and there was only one target for him; the medication.

The smaller man reaches into his pocket, searching for his gun, but Joel anticipates the move and has already reached him and thrown him against the wall before he can find it. His movements strain the wound in his abdomen, but he doesn’t care. Doesn’t feel it.

Joel’s fist pins Marco to the wall by his throat, making him splutter and flail like a fish out of water.

“Where are the fuckin’ pills, Marco?” He just continues to flail, trying to pull Joel’s hand off of him with both of his own, to no effect. Joel scoffs, throwing him to the floor and dragging his knife out of the now dead henchman’s neck. “If you won’t tell me, I guess I’ve got no use for ya.” He uses his shirt to clean the blade, the flannel already soaked in blood, his own.

“For fuck sake, Marco whines, slightly out of breath. “They’re at my place.”

“There anyone else there?” Joel asks, so nonchalantly that it almost sounds like a passing thought.

“No, no one there. But you’ll need me to get you in.”

Joel looks up again, the now-clean knife held in his fist with a vice-like grip. He stalks towards Marco, ignoring his desperate pleas. 

“Shouldn’t be a problem-” 

With that, he stabs him in the chest, letting him choke and gasp on the floor and searching his pockets for a key. He finds it, and does a quick, final survey of the alleyway. The once perfectly settled snow is disturbed, kicked up in the fight, and deeply stained with blood.

Joel curses, but leaves, only now noticing the burning pain from his torso. He leans against the wall, now stood out in the street, open; but there are no guards. He doesn’t think he’d care. Instead he grabs a fistful of the snow around his feet, packs it into the wound, hissing at the sharp pain of the ice but quickly feeling relief as it numbs him.

This was going to be a long night.

—------------------

It’s another couple of hours or so before he returns. There were, in fact, people at Marco’s place - but Joel knew that would be the case anyway. They weren’t a problem.

He’d showered in Marco’s flat, after taking out the men hanging out in there. Protecting it, he assumed. And he’d found a med pack that let him stitch up the wound to some degree; it was a hack job, but it should do the trick. He’d had worse.

The most important thing was that he found the meds.

The old door of your place creaks as he steps inside, quickly closing it behind him before the cold could enter. It’s futile, really; the wooden pillars are rotten, decaying so badly that the wind sweeps through the cracks with ease, and he can see dustings of snow on the floor around your windows. But he tries anyway.

“Joel?”

There you are.

It’s scary, honestly, what your voice does to him. Even so quiet, so distant from the bedroom upstairs, it lifts the weight from his shoulders that he thought he’d carry forever.

“I’m here, baby. I’m comin’.” He pulls off his shoes, placing them neatly beside the door just how you like, and heads upstairs. His bloodied shirt is long gone, buried in some forgotten corner of the QZ, where he has a collection of discarded items by now.

You don’t reply, he doesn’t expect you to. He reaches your bedroom, gently opening the door and sighing at the sight of you lying there, curled up between mountains of sheets and pillows.

He’d almost think you look peaceful if he didn’t know how much pain you’re in.

“Oh, honey,” he laments, crossing the distance from the door to you and kneeling down beside your head. You open your eyes, though they’re weighed down by exhaustion, and a small smile creeps onto your lips at the sight of the man before you.

“Hi,” you whisper, letting a gentle hand poke out from the duvet and brush his jaw. He can’t help but grin back at you, the total mess that took place just hours ago wiped from his mind completely, and he leans into your touch.

The both of you just stay like that for a moment, your thumb sweeping across his cheek, his eyes never leaving yours. Then you wince, and no matter how much you try to hide it, he can see the wave of pain inflict your body.

“I’ve got your tablets, sweetheart.” He reaches into his pocket, a desperation to his actions now; he hates seeing you like this. You just nod, pushing a meek but honest “thank you” past your lips, so quiet that he almost doesn’t hear it. His heart swells.

Joel presses out one tablet and hands it to you, then picks up the glass of water that stands on your side table, making a mental note to replace it later. You take the pill, grabbing hold of his hand before he can pull it away, and give it a gentle squeeze. He follows your lead and tips the water to your lips once you’ve placed the tablet on your tongue, gently helping you swallow and squeezing your hand right back.

A look of relief washes over your face, and he finally lets himself relax. He stands, letting go of your hand and leaning over to kiss your forehead, before pulling off the clothes he’d taken from Marco’s wardrobe and climbing in beside you.

He only knew heaven in these moments with you, late at night, when your hands reach for him beneath the sheets and your head nuzzles into his neck. It’s no different tonight; he’s quiet, unsure if you’d fallen asleep in those few seconds, and as much as he wishes you’d rest, he can’t deny the way his lips curl when he feels your gentle touch wrap around him.

“How was today? Doing the sewage?”

Joel swallows. “Yeah, yeah. It was fine. Don’t you worry about it, sweetheart.” His arms envelop you, holding you tight against him, one hand drawing gentle circles on your back. He’s lost in the bliss for a moment, letting it wash over him in waves, when your hand brushes his haphazard and you freeze. So does he.

“Joel,” you say; it’s still a whisper, but not the tired kind you’d given him earlier. It’s like you’re too scared to ask. “What’s that?”

He panics, holding you tighter, trying to think. He can’t believe himself for not remembering to cover it, to make sure you didn’t see. 

“There was an accident today. I did some building work before I went to sewage, a pipe fell. Nicked me real bad-” you gasp, forcing yourself to sit up with shaky arms. Joel immediately pulls you back down, his hands grasping your face, staring into your eyes like they held the world inside them. It’s dark, but they glimmer, and he just hopes you can’t see his fear.

“No no. It’s fine, baby. I’m fine. Got seen by the doc, got a couple ‘a stitches. Says i’ll be all good by tomorrow.”

“By tomorrow? Joel that doesn’t sound right-”

He interrupts you. He hates this. “I promise, baby. That’s what she said. I promise.” He wipes a thumb across your cheek, and the way you seem to settle, to believe him, makes him ache. He hates this.

You nuzzle back into his side, placated. You trust him, endlessly, and he hates that he abuses that trust just as much as he needs to protect you. A means to an end, he thinks.

The two of you are silent for a few moments, your hand lay gentle over his wound. Like you’re trying to heal it. He thinks it’s working.

“Thank you for picking up my medicine,” you say.

“It’s okay.” His words are quiet, muffled; he’s got his face buried in your hair now, revelling in your scent, and really, he doesn’t want to talk about this with you. He doesn’t want to lie anymore than he already has.

You’re still oblivious, though. Still sweet.

“I’m so glad you can make my rations cover it. I don’t know what I’d do if they made them more expensive.”

Oh, babygirl, he thinks.

Because your rations don’t cover your medicine. Neither did his. Even combined, they’d hardly cover a drink in the bar these days. He’d seen you work and work and work, in spite of the pain that bloomed in your abdomen and tortured your bones until you could hardly stand up anymore, and he saw the way they laughed in your face and turned you away when you tried to get the help you needed. When you tried to trade your labour for medicine. You were nothing to them.

So he told you he could barter the price down. That it was best if he goes from now on, to make sure you’re not taken advantage of. He takes your rations, stuffs them right back in the savings pot you keep above the shelves in your kitchen, and leaves to make whatever underground deals he needs to in order to get those meds. And you didn’t know a thing.

He must’ve been quiet for a while, because you continue. “And I’m glad you don’t do those scary things anymore.”

That gets his attention. “Scary things?”

“Yeah. Like, the smuggling and stuff.” You take a breath, tighten your arms around his waist. “I mean, I know why you did it. I’m glad you were able to look after yourself.”

Joel curses to himself, unable to wipe the tears that brimmed in his eyes as you spoke, because that would mean letting go of you.

“But I’m also glad you don’t do that anymore. You go out, and you work, even the horrible sewage shifts like tonight.” You giggle, but Joel can’t even force himself to smile. Shame consumes him.

“I’m proud of you, Joel.”

He’s silent. He doesn’t know what to say. He feels like shit.

If you notice his stillness, you don’t mention it. That alone makes his heart ache; you’d always been so understanding, so careful to make sure he’s okay while knowing exactly how to handle his feelings.

It’s odd, really, how fiercely you protect one another. He doesn’t let the darkness of the world so much as touch you, and you extract the horrors from his veins like a vacuum, making him forget the damage was ever even there.

His eyes flitter down, watching you drift asleep, finally at peace and free from pain. He exhales.

He’d never feel good about lying to you. But some things, he thinks, are worth it.

You are worth it.

And so he brushes away the hair that’s fallen over your eyes, trying to fight the droopiness of his own so he can keep them on you for just a second longer. But sleep overtakes him, and the only reason he lets himself fall into dreamland, is because he knows he’ll find you there, too.

[artdcnaldson]

angry patrick is spooky to me i want sad loser patrick

oh i have plenty of thoughts on him as well <3 i loooove thinking of being Patrick's emergency contact still, years after you've broken up. You were his first girlfriend after Tashi, the entire ordeal was really fucking rough. He put you through the ringer, honestly. He wanted you to be Tashi, he wanted you to be Art, he wanted you to be so different from them that he could forget.

So you get a call at 3AM. Some random hospital in a random town. Sorry to bother you so late. You're Patrick Zweig's emergency contact, he's been in a car accident, and --

You dont need to hear the rest, you're already up, throwing on a jacket, slipping on a pair of house shoes. He's a state away, four hours with no traffic. He's awake by the time you get there, cut up and bruised, looking tiny in a big hospital gown.

He's too rattled to even try to be charming, or cute, or to turn it into a joke like he does everything else. He's in pain— his entire body hurts. He's got broken ribs, he's concussed, everything is awful and—

"Is that my shirt?"

You look down and nod. It's old, soft, so worn down you can barely read the words Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy on the front. "Yeah, guess so."

That does it for him. Because you're there, like a fucking angel. So pretty even though you look so fucking tired, wearing his shirt, and you're there. You didn't let him just spend the night alone in the emergency.

He's crying before he can stop himself, because it was fucking terrifying— he could've died and— And you're sliding onto the bed beside him, holding him as tenderly as you can manage. Kissing his forehead to comfort him, rubbing his back in soft circles like you're scared he'll break.

"You're fine," you murmur, because he's sobbing and it's only making his ribs hurt worse. "I've got you, okay? I'm right here."

He doesn't think he can handle it if you leave again.

[xxanaduwrites]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ a residue series installment ୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

m’no good

✎ elementary-teacher!reader (miss.honey) x biker!benny 🏍️

summary: in which honey gets the call from johnny that benny’s in the hospital :( cal takes her to him. :’)

warnings: talks of being beaten, descriptions of injury, cursing, lying, crying, being judgy again. it’s an emotional one to say the least, but there’s some sweet moments & a happy ending :)

author’s note: this is NOT in order with the last two parts posted. instead, it’s a future installment in “bein’ married.” you can find the timeline in da main hive masterlist. this is heavily based on the events of the bikeriders movie of benny getting beat up & hospitalized. of course this is my own made-up spin on the situation at hand. idk this idea struck me at 3am & i wrote it in less than a day, so i figured i’d just release it now. you can find a mention of this scenario in session 1 of from the hive 🎙️🐝 this can be read alone if you like, but the interview context could help for sure! x

+ also if you were wondering, i personally picture honey as brittany murphy’s character in uptown girl’s molly gunn! i’ve been obsessing over her style in it & that’s what inspired honey’s style in my writing — especially with the embroidered overalls. you can picture her however you please, & i hope you continue to do as yourself ofc <3

word count: 4.7k (2x longer than the other parts, yay!)

💌 requests are open, send ‘em honey 💋

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

You were in the midst of Sunday dinner with your parents when you got the news. News that would leave you scrambling out of the house in an instant with no thoughts behind your honeydew drop eyes besides him — besides Benny.

Your Pa was comfortable at the head of the table, a cigarette between his lips as he scanned the paper under reading glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. Your Ma had just taken her seat at the table, a forkful stabbing into her salad. So when the phone rang your Pa didn’t even flinch. A result of him being too engrossed in his paper. On the other hand, your Ma sighed in a way that made you know she was evidently too tired to be on her feet again. This led you to announce that you’d get the phone. And you did, pulling it off the reciever and twisting your little finger around the warm yellow chord.

“Hi, you’ve reached The BeeHive. Honey speaking!” You chirped into the phone in your usual honey coated tone. Between your family business that consisted of beekeeping and honey jarring, answering the phone in such a way became rather customary and oddly normal. So much so that no one seemed to bat an eye besides your cousins who laughed every time they called. Absolute menaces indeed.

“Honey?” It was Johnny’s drawl on the line, rough and edgy with a twinge of something you couldn’t catch.

“Oh hi Joh— Mr. Davis!” You cleared your throat and corrected yourself. Trying to remain formal. Trying to remain respectable. Sure, you and Johnny were far from past that. Calling him Johnny instead of Mr. Davis was an entirely different respect that only you, Benny, the wives, and the rest of the guys would ever understand. So your parents? Well, they wouldn’t get that, and besides his kids were still your students after all. “How’s it goin’? Y’need to speak to my Pa? He’s right ‘ere.” You asked, your father’s demeanor easily shifting at the mention, his paper going flat against the table. It wasn’t unusual for Johnny to call your house. No — Johnny was a consistent buyer of your family’s honey. He incorporated it into the Club, handing the guys out honey beers during picnics and meetings. He learned of it from those community events you frequented with your parents, always having some sort of incorporation when catering was involved.

“Nah — nah.” He brushed that idea away rather quickly and your brows furrowed in confusion. “Gotta speak to yuh. Look I — I needa tell y’something, but if your Pa’s overhearin’ I need yuh to pretend we’re talking about the girls, alright?”

“I —“ you began but stopped short trying to compartmentalize what he was saying without reacting. “Oh, right I remember we were gonna talk about the girls' grades, yeah?” You rambled out, your words feeling far too thick coming out of your mouth, it almost didn’t sound like you. You feared your parents would catch on instantly, but instead their interest deflated as soon as nothing you said resembled anything to do with their business. It only took a second for your father to go back to his paper and beer and your mother to her salad.

“That’a good, Honey. Very good.” Johnny praised as you motioned with your hand that you were gonna step out of a sec, which really meant you were gonna pull the chord as far as you could into the other room. The distance — well it wasn’t much. The open archway from your parent’s kitchen to the living room wasn’t sound proof, so they could still technically hear every word you said, but your volume would be at lower frequency for sure, and your reactions practically undefinable.

“They’re doing real good, Mr. Davis. Bright girls you got there.” You muttered out so Johnny would know you were still there. You could feel your heart going a mile a minute as you paced the short distance available you could in restraint of the phone.

“I know. I know. They love ya, Honey, and they’re just fine. No need to worry ‘ere.” He reassured you, and a sigh of relief escaped your lips. The last thing you needed to hear was something bad about those babies. It would absolutely break your heart. But what you weren’t expecting to hear was something that would shatter it into a million little pieces. “It’s uh — it’s Benny.” Johnny said, and every fiber of your being went on fire, burning to ash. “He’s — he’s banged up, Honey. Got ‘im in the hospital and everything. ‘parently some jackasses got ‘im real good at some pub not too far from us. Beat him the fuck up, and broke his foot. Could’a lost the damn thing over his colors.”

A gasp left your lips in an instant, and you almost choked as you swallowed down a whimper to conceal the sudden volcano of tears bound to erupt. Now you understood why Johnny wanted — no needed this conversation to be under wraps. Your parents were already nervous about your ridin’ and to hear about some guys jumping your husband for bein’ part of the Club 'would have your parents in a frenzy. “I’m — I’m so sorry t—to hear that, J — Mr. Davis.” You continued the facade, a facade that pained you even more now as you tied back your emotions so forcfully wanting to rip from the seams. “Is your l-little girl okay?”

“He’s fine. They’re takin’ good care of him last I heard from Cockroach. He’s up and talkin’. Took ‘im to the hospital on the West End.” Johnny explained and little by little, piece by piece the fragments of your heart were starting to come back together, but you knew for certain, they wouldn’t be mended until you saw him. Until you got to touch him. Inspect him. Coddle him. Got to know who the fuck messed with him. “Go ‘n see ‘im. He needs his wife, alright?”

“I will.” You assured him, stepping back to peek through the archway at your parents who were still eating. Thankfully nothing seemed amiss. “I’ll be over soon with the homework she’s gonna miss for the week. Does she need anything else from me? Need a friend to bring her books home tomorrow?” You added in code. Code for ‘Who the fuck did this to him, and how could you help make sure those fuckers never got as close as a mile away from Benny again?’

“Nah. Don’t you be worryin’ now, Honey. The guys and I are on it. We’ll take care of ‘em. You take care of ‘im.” He settled on the plan. “Capisce?”

A wave of relief washed over you then. A relief that could only come from Johnny’s word alone. Cause you knew he’d take care of it. He always did. “Capisce.” You sniffled, not caring anymore if your parents caught on.

“Cal’s already on the way to pick ya up at your Ma’s.” He informed you. “Told ‘em to park around the corner so there’s no suspicion. You can tell ‘em you're stoppin’ by the house.” You never thought a time like this would leave you feeling extra grateful that Johnny and his family only lived a block away from your parents. But here you were, feeling just that.

You wanted to thank him then. The words were resting against your tongue heavily, so you made do with what you could. “Thank you, Mr. Davis. I’ll tell ‘em you said ‘ello. Please send my parents regards to your wife and the girls. I’ll be there soon.”

“Anything for ya n’ Benny. Y’know that. Yuh take care of y’self now, o—kay?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, itching to run out of your house and into Benny’s arms already. If you could. God, you sure hoped he wasn’t too banged up for a cuddle or two. Makin’ him feel a whole lot better was your main concern. “Bye Mr. Davis. See ya soon,” you spoke into the line before stepping heavily across the threshold and accidently putting the phone back on the hook with a little more aggression than you anticipated.

“Sorry,” you tensed and broke out in an innocent smile, “I gotta go to Mr. Davis’s. His girl is sick real bad with the Flu. Doctors says she’ll be out of school for a week and of course there’s all this important testin’ going on. Gotta keep ‘er on track, y’know? Such a good cookie. Get in a fit if she misses one lick of school.” You rambled on, adding more and more to lie you rather not tell, but knew it was for their own good. For your own good. For Benny’s. Your marriage. Your future. What you’d hope would become a bundle of joy or two with his pretty blue eyes and freckled face to match.

“‘Course she does. She’s a Davis after all.” Your father added, a fond smile stretching across his face.

“Oh that’s too bad,” your mother frowned, and then stood unexpectedly, her chair scraping against the kitchen flooring. “Here, I’ll pack ya some honey buns to take to ‘er.” Before you could protest your Ma was already piling some of her homemade buns into a metal cookie container and passing them to you.

“Real sweet, Mama.” You could feel your eyes startin’ to tear up again, that familiar wave of remembrance coming back to remind you what you were really leaving for. A wave of impatience that made your anxieties spike higher and higher at the prospect of more minutes ticking away without you being next to Benny. “M’sure it’ll make ‘er feel so much better in no time.” You kissed your Ma on the cheek in appreciaton and turned to head out.

“Wait,” your Ma said right when you were about to exit the front door with your backpack in tow. Thankfully she didn’t see you mouth a curse into the air with your back towards her. “Y’didn’t even get to touch your dinner. Will ya be back to finish it or should I wrap it up?”

“Nah. That’s ‘ight.” You declined. “I still got leftovers in the fridge for me and Benny from Rosie’s. Heat it up when I get home, but thanks Mama. Save it for yuh and Pa.”

“‘ight. Get’ome safe, Honey.” She called out. Safe. Safe. Benny didn’t get home safe, but he was safe now. Safe in the hospital that is, but was he really safe?

Your fingers gripped the doorhand, knuckles burning white as you took a breath to calm yourself. “I will, Mama. Love ya. Bye!” And then you were out the door, trying to keep your composure as long as you could, until you were out of eyeshot of your Ma and Pa’s. Your ballet flat feet banged against the pavement as you went on running down the rest, a sharp turn at the corner showing Cal by his bike, waiting and ready for you. A fresh cigarette between his lips, just ‘bout to be lit, long forgotten once his eyes landed on you.

It only took one look at him. One frown on those deep set features of his for you to be barrelling at him, strong arms encircling you in a hug.

“Oh Cal!” You cried into his tattered shirt, the dame of tears breaking out of you uncontrollably. Too uncontrollably. But you didn’t care. Couldn’t care. It was Cal after all. The brother you never had. The brother you should have had. The family you now had because of Benny. Because of Johnny. And it wasn’t that you didn’t love your parents — you loved and appreciated them of course, but you never felt fully accepted by them. So being in Cal’s arms was far more comforting than being in the arms of your parents because you could be yourself with Cal, without judgment.

“M’so sorry, Honey. So sorry.” He mumbled into your sun kissed up-do, smelling of fresh vanilla and honey scented soap.

You were crying so hard. Too hard. You’d become a total mess of hiccups and hard breathes. Of course, Cal accessed you accordingly, pulling you from his chest to take a good look at ya. And boy did your rosey cheeks and red rimmed glossy coated eyes destroy him. They really did. He hated seein’ you like this. All the guys did. They loved you far too much.

Cal’s warm calloused fingers circled the apples of your cheeks, brushing away the tear tracks that resided. “It’s gonna be ‘ight. ‘erything gonna be okay.” He cooed, trying to calm you down. “Gotta stay strong for ‘im so he can get betta. Can’t take ya like this. It’ll break ‘im, Honey.”

“I — I know. I know.” You squeezed your eyes shut, wet lashes bowing down. You took a breath. Then another. And another until you felt somewhat better. More calm that is.

“Ready t’go?” Cal asked carefully when he noticed your breaths evening out.

“Mhm,” you hummed, nodding your head.

Cal helped you onto his bike and you clung onto him as you rode. The weight of his jacket felt oddly comforting in your hold. Even though the circumstances of such colors were alarming in such a time, it didn’t leave you on edge by any means. Before you knew it, you were pulling up in the West End. Cal parked his bike, leading you to the front desk and of course the receptionist looked at the two of you kind-of funny.

“Family only.” She said to Cal, immediately putting two-and-two together who he was here for before turning to you, a big smile gracing her features. “How can I help ya, Miss?”

Your emotions were all over the place. Anger bubbling up inside you in an instant, ready to burst at the assumption of such a thing. Sure, it was a common mistake. To be misplaced next to one of the guys in your floral knitted cardigan and patterned jeans to match. But now — now, of all times. It was your last straw.

“That’s ‘is wife. Uh — Honey Cross.” Cal motioned to you, explaining who you were before your rage could ensue.

“Hm — I don’t see a Honey here,” the receptionist said, amusement crossing her features. Clearly pleased by shooting Cal’s advances in an instant. “I’m going to need to see some ID.” She pushed, and you were already ripping off your backpack before she could even finish the sentence.

Cal’s hands materialized around the straps without a second thought, helping you out of the thing but also holding it up for you while you fished for your bedazzled wallet. It was in the deep depths of the thing, mushed around with all your work sheets and lesson plans for the week. You were always equipped and extra prepared, making your supposed trip to the Davis’s for his little girl not amiss one bit. Your cutesy keychain clipped to the end flung about as you finally uncovered it, whipping out your ID with ease. This wasn’t your first rodeo in such a situation, learning from the last time Benny was tossed in a jail cell to get your ID updated with your new last name as soon as humanly possible.

The receptionist looked between you, Benny’s paperwork, and your ID for longer than necessary. “Hmmm, okay. Second floor room twelve, Mrs. Cross.” She finally gave in. “But you’ll have to stay here, Mister.” She told Cal.

He raised his hands up in the air like he was bound to be incarcerated, and the sight almost got a laugh out of you. Almost. “Fine. I’ll be out front when y’ready, Honey.” He informed you, and you nodded.

He helped you put your things back together, and when he caught wind of your name etched into your ID, his eyes widened. “Huh? So that’s y’real name then.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, wedging the thing back into your wallet, snapping it close. And if you thought the receptionist was suspicious earlier, she was far more suspicious now.

His features scrunched up in an innocent way, that long earring of his shaking as he shook his head. “S’cute, but I can’t see ya as anything else but Honey. Be weird if I called y’anything else.”

“I get it,” the edge of your clip curled up in a faint smile then. Your first smile in what felt like ages. You couldn’t help it with Cal. It was hard not to smile around him. “Feels weird calling you Calvin, Caleb, or Calum or whatever. Which is it anyways?” You asked, brows furrowed in confusion at the thought as you zipped your bag closed.

“Don’t matter now.” He patted your shoulders once your backpack was shelled around you. “Time to go see y’man, anyways.”

Turning on your heel, you nodded when you faced him, thanking him profusely and giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek as you gave him a tight hug. Once you let him go, you were off. Darting across the halls and climbing up the stairs, you weaved around the patients in their hospital beds being pushed by nurses and doctors in their lab coats until you made it to room twelve. For a moment, you stopped in your tracks, attempting a warm honey smile to grace your hubby with. To distract him from the evident pain he was having and the deep rooted distraught you felt inside.

But once you turned the corner, oh — you were a goner. There was Benny with a blue blooming zygoma, a swollen and bandaged eye, and his right foot propped up in a form fitted cast. Your heart shattered all over again without your control. Your hubby looked like a beat up puppy dog, and you couldn’t help but frown at the sight.

His blues — well his good one that is — caught your eye immediately. It was hard not to when you came waltzing in like that, all dolled up in a swarming buzz of color and sweet honey perfume. It wafted across the room and the smell touched his nose, warming him up for the first time since he’s been placed in this cold sterile room.

“Honey?” He blinked. Once. Twice. Wondering if your sweet face was an apparition. He told Cockroach not to tell you. Didn’t want you to see ‘im like this. Not until he was out and the brusin’ subsided at least, but he guessed Roach forgot to relay the message to Johnny and the rest of the guys when he told ‘em.

“Oh — my poor baby!” You cooed, racing across the room as soon as his gravelly voice hit your ears. You dotted on him in an instant. Fitting your form on the small empty space at the edge of the bed near his hip, you didn’t even bother pulling over the chair adjacent to his bed. And Benny didn’t mind no.

Even though he wasn’t too happy to see you here, he was happy to feel you here.

Your hand brushed through his hair and caressed the good side of his face, sweet and delicate. Benny couldn’t help but lean his cheek into your comforting touch. For the very first time you watched as a hot warm tear trickled down his cheek and landed on your hand.

“Please don’t let’em take my foot,” he begged, his large warm hands circling around both of yours and dropping them in his lap. “If — If they take my foot then I can’t ride again, and — and then how will I-I take y’to school?”

His sweep of emotions took you by surprise. You’d never seen him cry. Not when he was beaten and bruised in a bar fight. Not when a shard of glass wedged itself into his skin after punching through a car window. Not when you were applying alcohol to his cuts or when he was gettin’ stitches. No Benny never cried. And here he was now. Crying in front of you. In front of his wife. God, of course that just wrecked you.

Sure, maybe someone else would have made a stink. Would have told him that there were bigger things to worry about then his riding. But you wouldn’t do that — no. Besides you, ridin’ was Benny’s biggest passion. And both showed in the way he was most concerned about you. Concerned about taking care of you. How’d he do that if they took his foot and couldn’t take you to work every day. You couldn’t drive. Didn’t know how. It’s not that you didn’t want to, you just never had the time to go get your driver’s license. Not between working at the local diner while you were studying and getting your degree. And now that you had it and Benny well — you had all that you really needed.

“I won’t let ‘em, baby. I promise. I promise.” You assured, pulling his strong hands up with yours and kissing each and every rough rimmed knuckle of his. “As for takin’ me to school. Don’t you worry about that. Took the bus before I met y’anyways. Doesn’t make a difference. I’ll do it until you’re better again, alright?”

But it did make a difference. It did to him. He adored those mornings and afternoons when he had you on the back of his bike, taking you to and from school. He especially loved it when you were still living with your Ma and Pa. It was the little things like that that not only got him through his day, but also made him feel like he was doing something good. Doing something good by you. Makin’ himself seem responsible enough to your parents for being on time and prompt, to marry you. And it worked after a while. He had you now as his wife. In the apartment you shared. In his home. In his bed. While that was all good and great, he couldn’t help but wonder if something like this would set them off.

He grimaced, the thoughts gnawing at him and makin’ him ask you, “do y’parents know?”

“No, no. They don’t. Think I’m at Johnny’s dropping off homework for his sick little girl. Think you’re at work. ‘Member I told ‘em you were working today so you didn’t have to come?” You reminded him.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to throw a little white lie around here and there to your parents about Benny. Sure, he was on good terms with them now thanks to Johnny. Thanks to the fact that their little girl had him as her husband, and they didn’t have too much of a choice. But, that didn’t mean things were perfect. Benny wasn’t much of a fan at the way they treated you from time to time. Especially when they made comments about your decisions. About the way you dressed. He thought you were perfect as is, and it boiled his blood whenever he heard them goin’ on and on about it, especially at Sunday dinners. So sometimes he just didn’t come. Sometimes you didn’t go either. But of course you did today cause you felt bad you hadn’t been in awhile and felt like you needed to see ‘em. They were your parents after all. Now you were regretting not going with him instead. Maybe none of this would have happened if you had never gone to your parents in the first place.

“Hm, right,” he sighed, squeezing your hand in appreciation. “How was it anyways? Did they give ya a hard time?”

“No. Not today,” you replied. “Didn’t have time to. Didn’t even get t’sit down. I should’ve been with y’anyways.”

“No y’shouldn’t of.” He shook his head in disagreement, and then revealed, “m’no good for ya, baby.”

“What?!” You gasped, absolutely baffled by what he was sayin’. “What you goin’ on about?” He hadn’t just really said that? Had he? He did! “S’not true. Not true at all.” Your cute little bee earrings shook as you moved your head back and forth in earnest. “You’re too good t’me —“ He bowed his head down in a silent no. “Far too good,” you repeated, trying to search his eye so he could see you. Really see that you meant every word you were sayin’. “Y’loyal to Johnny and the guys. To me.” You reminded him, but his gaze was still downwards, trained on your conjoined hands in his lap. You brushed your thumb back and forth against his skin. “Lemme ask you somethin’..” you began, “What did y’do when those guys came up to ya, huh?”

“Told ‘em they’d have to kill me to get my jacket off,” he revealed, his response making your lips curl up soundly. That was your Benny right there, your loyal Benny.

“And why’s that?” You asked, pushing on. Trying to get him to the root of his decision.

“Cause…” he shrugged, taking a moment to think about it. “It represents my family….represents you. Hell, I got your patches on it!” His voice was slowly rising in defense, in bits of anger. “Got your name sewed over my heart bigger than a goddamn weddin’ ring will ever be and those fuckers laughed about it!”

A full, bright toothed smile had your dimples peaked like two pretty mountains, and when Benny’s eyes finally found your sweet honey speckled ones — well his anger dissipated. “Ah, c’mere.”

“I don’t wanna crush y—“ you began, worrying about hurting him, but he cut you off immediately.

“C’mere,” he cooed, scooting over just a tad so you could lay next to ‘em. Of course you couldn’t say no to him. Could never ever. Not when he wanted y’so bad. “Need my girl.”

“Alright, alright,” you hummed, rolling your eyes playfully as you curled yourself next to ‘em. A comfortable silence landed over the two of you, one that you were thankful for after everything. After all the fuss of the day. You just wished you could be just like this with him at home in your own bed. His strong arm wrapped around your back, hand cupping your shoulder and you tilted your head onto his own. His lips found your forehead quickly, feeling more pillowy than usual from the impact on his face and your eyes fluttered at the contact. “Oh that reminds me. Did ya eat?”

“Huh?” He hummed confused.

“Did they feed y’here yet?” You tried again.

“Nah,” he replied.

“Fuckin’ hell. Got y’propped up, but can’t feed ya…” you shook your head in disappointment, and your concern for him over something so miniscule within the swarm of everything warmed his heart tenfold.

You moved to get up, but he stopped you short with his hand that was once on your shoulder now materializing on your waist. “Where y’going?” He pouted.

“Nowhere, baby.” You assured him, fingers curling under the good side of his chin so you could leave a soft kiss on his lips which he relaxed in as soon as it came. “Just grabbin’ my bag from the floor. Got some grub — well…” you trailed off, a laugh escaping you as you unzipped your bag and took out the tin your mother gave you. “I know it ain’t dinner, but I say dessert won’t hurt. Doctor’s orders, y’know?” You opened the tin to reveal the fresh honey buns your Mama made then, and God did Benny wanna just eat you up instead. “Y’want?”

He nodded, so you didn’t hesitate in passing one over to him. Both of you enjoyed the sweet treat. So much so, that when a crumb or two fell on your chest, Benny dived right in to access it — and well who were you to protest when his soft lips met your warm skin? When his lips continued their assault around your fingers, cleaning off the sugary residue that remained. And you were happy. So happy and giddy because you were with your Benny. You knew no matter what happened. No matter what came next, the two of you would be alright. Cause that was what marriage was all about, signing up for the good, the bad, and the ugly, being there for each other in sickness and in health.

And in that short hour or so that remained in visiting hours, before the nurse flagged you down to kick you out, you laughed and giggled more than you had in days, and even when you scolded him, warning that a nurse may catch him licking down your chest or sucking your fingers, a smile graced your sweet features the entire time and Benny ate up every single second soundly.

“I fuckin’ love ya, y’know that Mrs. Cross?” He said to you at some point, in the midst of everything.

“I fuckin’ love ya too, Mr. Cross. Always and forever.”

And always and forever it was.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

additional author’s note: AH I COULDN’T HELP MYSELF. PWETTY PLZ DON’T BE MAD AT ME FOR JUMPING OUT OF ORDER. (with a cherry on top 🍒)

my requests are open for any miss honey x benny cross works + any convos about these two in general. don’t be shy honey, i’m all for yapping in the asks.

+ don’t forget to comment if you’d like be added to “da bee hive” (my version of da tag list)

smoochies. all da love xanadu 💋

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[crying-stardust]

I don’t know how to be myself anymore.

I don’t know who i am.

[daceydeath]

I Want to Watch (Part 2)

Pairing: Wooyoung x reader x Jongho

Word Count: 2.5K

Genre: Pure Smut 🔞

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Explicit Activities

Wooyoung's brilliant idea has played on his mind even more since San maybe you would be up for more than just that one time...

Wooyoung had been insatiable for the entire fortnight after your night with San, wanting you in every possible way until you just about couldn’t sit down properly you were fucked so raw. It also had unlocked a whole new list of things he wanted to try, well things he wanted you to try with different members. To begin with you had just taken it as just talk as a way for him to let out every fantasy that he could come up with but when he had decided what he wanted to try next there was not much you could do to dissuade him. Even though you didn’t really want to after all you had, had fun with San and you wouldn’t mind in the slightest to do it again.

“Baby, I have an idea I think you will like” Wooyoung started smiling like the Cheshire cat as he wandered out of his bedroom with his phone in his hands. You had been sitting on the couch in one of his shirts and your underwear reading since he had told you that Jongho was out for the whole night and Hongjoong was in the studio and therefore not coming home until at least 3am.

“Uhuh and what would that be?” You rolled your eyes playfully knowing that the pair of you being alone in the dorm meant only one thing.

“I know I sprung the whole San thing on you and I know you loved it but I thought maybe you might want to do it again but we would talk about it first” he smirked knowing you were going to leap at the chance if you were given it.

“Ok” you furrowed your brows “Why would we need to talk about it? San and I have already fucked once”. Kneeling before you he spread your legs slotting himself between them and rubbing his hands teasingly up your thighs, his fingers dancing along the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs giving you goosebumps. 

“Well there were some rules that San broke that I wanted to talk to you about, also perhaps how you would feel about another member joining us” He murmured, placing a kiss on your clothed stomach.

“What rules did you have, Wooyo?” you hummed, closing your eyes as he continued his ministrations.

“No one is to taste you, that is just mine” he continued “and I will also decide what you are doing with who after you have agreed of course”.

“That’s fine” you purred as his hands crept up under his shirt “whatever you want”. You couldn’t help leaning back into the couch spreading your thighs even wider for him.

“I want to watch you suck Jongho’s dick, want to watch him fuck you from behind” he admitted leaning forward to press a kiss to you covered core. “Will you do that for me baby, will you let him fuck you?” 

“Yes” you whined letting him nuzzle his face against your cover core, your fingers threading into his hair as he continued to tease you, chuckling darkly as he felt your wetness beginning to soak through the flimsy fabric.

“Good because he will be home and minute now and he was as enthusiastic as San was” he mumbled against you one of his fingers hooking under the fabric to pull it aside exposing your slick folds to the warmth of his breath. Licking a long lazy stipe through your fold you let your head drop back against the pillows enjoying the feeling of his perfect tongue on you. Sucking your clit between his lips you moaned softly hearing the front door open.

“Well that's a very nice welcome home” Jongho’s honeyed voice filled your ears making your eyes pop open to look at him.

“Thought I should get her ready for you” Wooyoung grinned smugly, pulling away from you his lips shining with your arousal.

“That’s why you are my favorite hyung” Jongho replied, his eyes glued to your exposed slit.

“I’m going to always be your favorite after I let you fuck my girl” Wooyoung laughed getting up from the floor and pulling you forward so he could pull his shirt up over your head to leave you in just your underwear.

“Fuck” Jongho whispered stepping towards you his eyes trailing over your breasts hungrily “So I can kiss her, fuck her and finger her I just can’t taste her?”

“Yep” Wooyoung agreed instantly, looking almost predatory as he sat on the armchair to your right watchin closely as Jongho continued to move closer to you. 

“Can I?” Jongho breathed softly, his eyes finally meeting yours, asking if you would actually let him do what Wooyoung had told him he could do.

“Please Jjongie” you swallowed hard feeling how much slick was pooling between your legs at this point. “I wanna make you feel good”.

Jongho pulled you to your feet gently, his hands almost shaking as he moved to grab your hips before slowly brushing them up your sides to your waist before closing the distance and pressing his lips to yours. His lips were so tentative as he continued to move them against yours, you sighed quietly running your tongue along his bottom lip to encourage him while pulling him in further by his shoulders one hand fisting in his hoodie that he was still wearing. Feeling your enthusiasm Jongho pressed you against him, letting his tongue invade your mouth to suck on your own while you slipped one hand down to squeeze his half hard length.

“Shit, how do you want to do this on your knees or sitting?” he gasped against your lips.

“Sit down, she can show you how good her throat is, can’t you baby? be his perfect little whore” Wooyoung cooed as you couldn’t stop the whine coming from your lips. Jongho sat watching you intensely as you sank to your knees where Wooyoung had been before. You gently ran your fingernails up his thighs leaning forward to grab the zipper between your teeth wiggling your arse as you did to make sure Wooyoung was enjoying the view as much as Jongho was going to enjoy your mouth. Freeing him from his pants you couldn’t help how your eyes widened in surprise at the thick heavy cock that sprang up against the fabric of his clothes, it was almost as pretty as your boyfriends straight, veiny and leaking as your grasped it to lazily stroke it a few times before licking a teasingly slow stripe from his balls to the blushing pink tip. Circling the tip a few times with your tongue you allowed your saliva to pool in your mouth before letting it begin to drip down the hard flesh, Jongho’s breathing was coming out in shallow puffs as you finally looked up to meet his eyes through your lashes and sank your lips down around him as far as you could.

“Oh Fuck” Jongho groaned one hand carding into your hair to cup your head.

“Such a good girl baby. Go on, swallow his whole cock baby” Wooyoung playfully encouraged your desperation.

Working your hand in time with your mouth you worked on relaxing your throat and jaw so you could take as much of his length into you without gagging each bob of your head causing more of your spit to leak from the corners of your mouth. Holding your head Jongho because to carefully thrust his hips his breath coming out in heavy pants now as you swallowed as much as you could of him. 

“So eager to swallow Jongho’s dick, acting like I don’t give you mine” Wooyoung groaned while Jongho began loudly groaning as you hummed around his cock.

“Such a heavenly mouth” he groaned rolling his hips harder and forcing you further onto his length you were almost at your limit your lips stretched around his fat cock the tips bumping the back of your throat with each movement swallowing around him you felt Jongho start to lose his composure forcing your head lower until he was actually fucking into your mouth. Choking slightly you gurgled around him trying to remember to breathe through your nose as he held you still and fucked himself as far as he could into your throat maoning as your throat restricted him with every slight gag tears running down your cheeks.

“Do you want Jongho to cum down your throat baby? Going to drink it all down?” Wooyoung mocked, smirking as you whined pathetically as Jongho continued to use your throat as his own personal cocksleeve. You felt him begin to swell on your tongue, his cock twitching as he got closer and closer to his high.

“Ahh…shit..”Jongho called loudly forcing his cock as far into your mouth as he could your nose brushing his pubic bone as he released thick ropes of hot cum into your throat and mouth as you desperately swallowed so you wouldn’t waste any. Jongho pulled himself from your swollen lips wiping your tears with his thumbs while you licked the last of his seed from your lips, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue to show him you had swallowed most of it.

“You are incredible” Jongho panted, his voice strained as you preened under his praise.

“Don’t forget your manners baby” Wooyoung scolded half heartedly, his eyebrows raised as he looked at you seriously.

“Thankyou Jjongie” you whispered roughly as you swallowed again trying to clear your throat.

“Come here” Jongho grinned, pulling you off the ground and swinging you over his shoulder taking you to Wooyoung’s room.

“Undress Jongho” Wooyoung ordered making himself comfortable at the end of the bed, stripping himself of most of his clothes.

You helped Jongho pull his hoodie and shirt over his head, dropping it beside you as you worked on shimmying his jeans and boxers down his legs. You had never really seen Jongho without clothes and you couldn’t help but stare at his toned chest and perfect thighs when they were finally exposed to you. He kissed you against his hands groping and squeezing your flesh as his tongue once again plundered your mouth licking into it as you whined against him feeling his hardness against you. Backing you up to the bed, Jongho lowered you to the mattress, kissing his way down your neck to your breasts, pinching and teasing each of your nipples until they were puffy and red before lapping at them with his tongue.

“Please Jongho, more” you whimpered arching into him as he sucked light marks all over both the mounds of flesh, pushing your underwear aside he moaned against your skin as he felt how dripping wet your folds were allowing him to easily push one finger inside you pumping it a few times before adding a second and then a third opening you up ready for him. Fucking you with his fingers the obscene squelch that filled the room made your cheeks flush with embarrassment about how easy it was for Jongho to get you needy for him. Your walls started to tighten, quivering around his digits as you quickly began to feel your orgasm approaching you hips bucking against his hand. Jongho moved back to your face, kissing you deeply as you mewled, arching and rolling your hips until you felt yourself fall over the edge.

“Jongho...ngh…Oh god” you cried, your nectar flooding around his fingers and dripping onto his palm.

“Fuck, you didn’t tell me she squirts” Jongho ground out his eyes watching your hole clenching around his fingers rapidly.

“My girl is a good girl, she loves to squirt on the nice boys who fuck her properly” Wooyoung purred as Jongho slipped his fingers from you giving them to you to suck clean, you licked and suckled them until he was satisfied letting them go with a lewd pop and he manhandled you onto your knees at the edge of the bed. “Be as rough as you want, she won’t break”.

Jongho dragged his leaking cock head against your folds, pressing it against your clit making you jolt, both he and Wooyoung laugh before he sheathed himself completely inside you, bottoming out with a long moan. Even with the prep you could feel him splitting you in half his thick cock stretching your walls almost painfully as he gave you a moment to adjust. Gripping your hips bruisingly he because snapping his hips against your arse rapidly each thrust forcing you forward before he dragged you back against him in a brutal pace bouncing you against him until he pushed your face down towards the bed letting him push even deeper inside you until his cock was almost kissing your cervix. 

“Ah..Ah…Jjongie” You pleaded, bunching the sheets uselessly between your fingers trying to ground yourself.

“Is Jongho fucking you properly baby? Just like Sannie? Wootoung teased making you turn your head towards him, finding him idly stroking himself as he watched Jongho’s cock split you open. 

“Fuck can I cum inside her or not?” Jongho strained not slowing his pace as he partially draped himself over you to kiss between your shoulder blades hitting the gummy spot within your walls the made you see stars.

“Yes Jjongie… fuck please fill me up” you begged between harsh breaths and loud cries.

“Yeah Jongho fuck her full, you would love that wouldn’t you being filled with another man’s cum again?” Wooyoung rasped so deeply you moaned clenching around Jongho, feeling him falter in his pace, his cock twitching inside you. Slipping his arm around your waist he pressed his fingers against your clit rubbing a few tight circles to get you clenching him again.

“Jongho…Jongho” you chanted as you felt fire reignite in your veins and your vision turn white, you would have collapsed completely into the sheets hand Jongho not been holding your hips so tightly as you spasmed around him your walls continuing to flutter as he fucked you through your orgasm trying to milk him of his release. A few thrusts later Jongho stilled inside you the warmth of his cum spreading through your core as he filled you so full it began to leak out around the base of his dick.

“Fuck, you are such a goddess for me” Wooyoung praised leaning forward to sweep your sweaty hair out of your face.

“I second that” Jongho panted, his cock still inside you even though it was starting to soften.

���Can you lay her on the bed?” Wooyoung asked moving towards the bathroom to get a washcloth to clean you up with. Jongho carefully maneuvered you onto your back before lifting you again and laying you in the middle of Wooyoung’s bed stroking your hair and cheeks as you smiled up at him.   

“Thank you Jjongie” you whispered, reaching out to pull him down towards you.

“I should go clean up and let hyung take care of you” he smiled shyly as though he hadn’t just tried to fuck your soul out of you.

“I forgot to mention that she gets super clingy afterwards, it took a full hour before she would let go of San Wooyoung, sniggered as he returned holding the warm cloth and carefully wiping your swollen and used folds.

“I guess a little while won’t hurt, but I’m only doing this for her not you hyung” Jongho smiled his usual gummy smile pulling the sheets up over the pair of you and letting you burrow into the side of his chest.

A/N: Thank you for reading my loveliest loves, all your likes, reblogs and comments continue to encourage me to keep writing xx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz @armystay89 @damnyouficc @roamingpolar

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@leeknowinggg @tanzen-ist-gold @taz-97 @ocean-dreamer-sky-chaser @everythingboutkpop

[f1fantasys]

My first ever fanfic, hope you all enjoy ❤️

'...and, and, and with Lando'

Angsty/Smut w/ Lando Norris

You'd been in a relationship with Lando for a year now, known him for 6 years prior. He was the most amazing and caring boyfriend you could have ever asked for. Being a Formula 1 driver, it meant Lando was away from you a lot more than that of a normal couple. Still, your love for each other made it work. You relationship with Lando had its ups and downs, but you always found your way back to each other, loving the other more than ever. You traveled around the world following Lando as much as you could, but it wasn't also so easy to just up and leave your home and be away from/wfm all the time.

Things with Lando had been great, however you recently noticed him becoming more distant. When you were away from each other, he would only respond to your texts with one or two word answers. You hardly ever face-timed- he was always too busy. You thought it was just a phase, and that things would eventually get back to normal. His races were recently not the best and only seemed to be getting worse.

You were currently with Lando in Belgium for one of the races. You'd arrived last night, hoping to have a quiet night in with your boyfriend, however he hardly even acknowledged your presence. He said he had an important dinner to attend, with his mate Charles, and he left you alone in your hotel room.

Later that night, you'd been scrolling on Twitter when pictures surfaced of a very drunk Lando and Charles, out at a nightclub, with some girls in the background. It was odd for them to have got out clubbing considering it was a race weekend, but what made you more upset is the fact that he left you alone to go have some fun with friends and GIRLS.

You tried to stay up for him, but he was just not showing up. Around 3am, you heard the hotel door open, and a very drunk Lando walked in. You decided to ignore him and pretend you were still sleeping. Lando somehow managed to strip his clothes off, even in his drunk state, and pulled back the bed covers to see you sporting a t shirt of his, and just some lacy panties. He immediately let out a groan at the sight of you. He ended up cuddling you, and after a while you felt some kisses being peppered on your back and shoulder. He turned your body around and started leaving open -mouthed kisses going further south.

'Lando stop, its late and you have to up early tomorrow'' you stated. Something clicked, and his whole mood changed. He let out a scoff and said 'what's it to you? I have a race, not you, and maybe i wanted a good fuck from my girlfriend to get me in a good mood, but clearly you don't care about me.' Before you could even say anything back, he turned around, mumbling something to himself.

You wanted to say something back, but decided against it, after all, its not worth arguing with someone who is not in their right senses.

As you drifted off to sleep again, you couldn't help but think of a memory from a few months ago.

Lando and you were in Italy for one of the Grand Prixs'. You had a lovely day out at the track for quali, Lando placed P2, so naturally he was in such a happy mood, he could burst. You loved to see that side of him - he was proud of his achievements and he wouldn't stop boasting about how you were his lucky charm. He has also debuted a goatee that weekend, so to say he looked handsome was an understatement. He had always been the most beautiful person to you, but with his new look, he looked HOT. So fucking hot. And lucky you, you had him all to yourself that night. The two of you usually loved to fuck the day before a race (as if you weren't doing the nasty every other day). It really got the adrenaline going for him, and for you, well you would not complain at all.

As soon as you reached your hotel room, he shut the door and his lips were on you. 'You look so fucking hot in this dress Y/N, gosh you don't know what you've done to me today.' You smiled into the heated kiss. 'And you looked so poochie, as your twitter fans would say, with your little goatee. I hope it stays forever and ever', you replied. This quickly took a turn when he started kneeling down in front of you, while you quickly removed your dress. He was shocked to find you wearing no panties, only a lacy bra that barely held your boobs together. He smirked ‘so fucking pretty, princess’ and before you could react, you felt his tongue on your pussy. He licked and licked and licked until your legs were trembling. ‘So close Lan’ you murmured. You could feel him smiling while continuing his slaughter on your most sensitive parts. After a few minutes, he carried and dropped you on the kind size bed. He quickly opened your legs and resumed his activities. His thumb quickly found your clit and you heard him mutter a few ‘cum, cum for me princess, cum for your Lando’ and with that, you came undone. Lando, however, didn’t slow his activities. You quickly felt his finger enter you-one, then two and within seconds he was finger fucking you. You came for a second time, then a third. Eventually you had to tell him to give it a break. You were feeling overly sensitive, and that only made him prouder of his achievements for the day. He wore a smirk at the thought of over stimulating you with just his mouth, the cheeky bugger.

You decided to put on a movie while lazily lying together, when suddenly you felt his fingers drawing lazy circles on your thigh, getting closer to the place you already craved him (yes, even after 3 orgasms, not less than an hour ago). By now you weren’t concentrating on the movie, you know Lando wasn’t as well. You quickly jumped him, bringing your lips to his, both fighting for dominance. In the end, you won, he opened his mouth to you and your tongues tasted each other, not getting enough. You both started to remove each others clothes until Lando was left in only his boxers. You started grinding on him, feeling his cock get harder by the second. ‘Someone’s needy’ you cheekily said to him. Without a second thought, you were suddenly on your fours, with Lando behind you, entering you without warning. ‘Let’s see who’s more needy’, he whispered. He set a slow pace at first, feeling so proud at how you take him, feeling your walls clench around his dick, so nicely, so tight, and so wet. He pulled your hair, causing you to just be on your knees. He spat into his hand and put it out by your mouth. You knew what to do. You quickly licked his hand clean of his spit, earning a loud and sexy moan from him. ‘My fucking princess’ he muttered and he suddenly started slamming into you at a harder pace, giving you no warning. ‘Taking me so well. Rewarding me for placing P2. Praying for my first win tomorrow. My princess’. After a few minutes you started to feel your walls clench. ‘So close Lan’ you told him. His finger found your clit and before you knew it you were crying out his name, praising him. After a minute or two, your felt his warm splutter inside your walls and heard another sexy groan form the man you love. As he slowly slid out, he peppered you in kisses ‘love you love you love you’ was all you heard as you both fell asleep.

That was the last thought you had before you drifted off to sleep.

You awoke the next morning to an empty bed. Checking the time, you saw it was 8am. You saw that Lando’s phone and wallet were gone, which meant he wasn’t in the room. You shot him a text asking where he was and that you wanted to talk to him. The plan today was for f1 media duties. You were supposed to accompany him through the day. You decided to get ready and get some breakfast while waiting for him. At 10am, you received a text. Merely stating a quick ‘already at the track, see you later’. Your heart sank at seeing that he didn’t even ask you to come there and be with him. You decided to go to the hotel spa to relax your mind a bit. By evening, you hoped to get a dinner with your boyfriend. It was the least he could do after acting like a total dick.

He came in the room at 7pm, sent you a quick ‘hi’. He showered and started putting on some clothes. ‘Are we going out for dinner?’ You asked. ‘I thought you could maybe order some room service, I’ve got dinner with the lads tonight’. You didn’t have time to reply. He left to the room straightaway. Needless to say you cried yourself to sleep that night.

The next day was FP1 and FP2. You had woken up before Lando, and had been ready waiting for him. This way he couldn’t escape you. The morning was filled with awkward silences and barely two words being exchanged between the two of you. You arrived at the track around 12pm, and the day ended around 10pm. You hardly saw Lando, but it was nice to catch up with some of the other WAGS. You also learned that Lando and Charles each had 2 points deducted due to their partying two nights ago.

As the two of you reached your hotel room, you’d had enough. ‘Lan, what’s going on. You’ve barley talked to me since I’ve come, we haven’t had one meal together in the three days, you haven’t touched me or kissed me at all, other than your drunk state. What is happening. Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me? You seem to want to get away from me at all points of the day. We didn’t even hold hands waking into the paddock today’ you said, a few tears rolling down your cheek. He just sighed. ‘Can we not talk about this now, I have quail tomorrow and don’t need all this added extra stress. Stop being so needy. ’ You both had already eaten at the paddock(separately, that is). He jumped into bed and ignored you the rest of the night. Not even a cuddle. No reassurance at all.

Quali day was the same. Two words here and there but nothing. Lando had a good quali, after a long time, placing P3. But you had no energy to even start up a conversation again. To no surprise, the two of you didn’t fuck. The day before the race. You didn’t fuck. That says something.

Race day came and Lando finished with a good P3, keeping his quali placement. You hoped this would lighten his mood and that things could fall into place. Maybe the stress of the race caused him to act differently. Back at the hotel, you were getting ready to put clubbing. Happy that he’d said he wanted you to go with. You wore a sexy satin white dress that hugged all your curves in the right places. Deciding to forego panties, hoping to have a happy Lando later.

You walked into the club hand in hand. While Lando was getting your drinks, you drifted into thought about the last few days. Stressing about the race gave Lando no reason to act like a dick to you. You still wanted to talk to him about everything and clear the air. The night was going well. You chatted with some drivers and had deep conversations with the wags. Danced a bit. Just had a good night. After dancing for some time, you and Alex, Charles’ girlfriend walk up to the boys for a breather. There was no place to sit as Alex took the last chair. So you decided Lando’s lap was the best place. Plus you wanted to be close to him and to hold you. And that was the last straw. He immediately said ‘what the fuck Y/N. Can’t you leave me alone for two minutes. Fucking hell’. You were shocked. Not only was that rude, but he was rude to you in front of your friends. You needed to get away before embarrassing yourself with crying in front of everyone so you made a beeline for the door. You tried to breath through the cold air of the night and heard the door open. Any angry Lando emerged. ‘We’re leaving’

The ride back to the hotel was quiet. You could still feel the tears sting your eyes and you tried to keep as quiet as you could.

When you got into the room, Landon sat on the sofa and looked at you. Not in a sorry way, not in a sweet, loving way. But a way that threw daggers at you. He was angry. You’d never seen him this angry before. ‘Lan” was all you said as you sat down. ‘I think we need to break up’ he said. You were speechless. You felt your heart break into a thousand pieces. ‘Lando, what’s going on’. You could barely even talk. ‘Please don’t do this, talk to me. Tell me what I’ve done wrong. Or tell me how you think we can fix this. I can’t lose you like this. You’re the love of my life. You know that’ you managed to say through your tears.

His look wasn't angry anymore, just annoyed. ‘You’re so needy. Always needing my attention. Constantly texting and calling. I’ve had enough. I need to concentrate on my racing. Not on you.” Hearing this sounding like someone shot you. You could not believe that your Lando was saying this to you. He didn’t give you a chance to say anything. ‘I’ll get my PR to get my stuff in the morning’ he said. And walked out the door.

He left you in a pool of your tears. Not knowing where it all went so wrong. You waited and waited and waited for him to come back. Say he was wrong and apologize for everything that he said in a rage. But he didn’t. You fell asleep on the floor but the sofa. Waking up to a broken heart the next day. You tried to call Lando, only for it not to go through. You tried to call Charles, Lando’s best friend in the world of F1, but he was already on a flight home. You called Max F, to ask if Lando had said anything. He didn’t know what was going on.

You packed your things and tried to convince yourself that it was for the better. There’s no point being in a relationship where you are not wanted. You booked an early flight home (you and Lando were supposed to stay back for a few days). Once home you rang Ria, she worked with Lando at Quadrant and quickly became one of your best friends. She came over and you explained everything to her. You found out that Lando had blocked you on all socials. Blocked your number as well. You didn’t know what to do, you don’t know what you did so wrong that it seemed Lando couldn’t stand you. You were so confused. Years of friendship and years of love just to be tossed to the side without reason.

Max F came to visit you a bit later in the day. He said he talked to Lando but Lando wouldn’t say anything about you or why he did what he did. You felt like you had no more tears to cry. You were exhausted. Max stayed for a while before heading back.

A few months had passed since everything had happened. Everyday you tried your best to hold yourself together but how do you do that without the person who bought you comfort. You were lonely. You stopped meeting your friends, even your f1 friends. They would only remind you of him.

One day you were having coffee at your favorite local coffee shop. Sitting on your own, sipping your coffee, out of nowhere, you heard his voice. At first you thought your mind was playing tricks on you. You looked up to see the curls you so lovingly adored. His back was to you, so he hadn’t noticed you yet. Your body was frozen. You didn’t know what to do. Getting up would cause him to turn to see you, and you weren’t sure if you wanted him to see you yet. After a minute he finally turned. You were looking down at your phone.

‘Y/N’. You braced yourself and looked up. ‘Lando’.

‘Can we talk?’ He asked. ‘Sure’ you replied.

‘How are you? You look great’. You smiled a bit. You did not look great. And you were not ok.

‘I’m good’ you lied.

‘How are you doing’. He kept quiet for several seconds. ‘Not good. Letting go of you-‘.

‘Lando stop, I can’t do this right now’. You interrupted him. Your mind was racing and you immediately got up and left.

You tried to calm yourself down once you got home. Deciding to have a cup of tea, your put some water to boil. A knock at your door startled you. You looked through the peephole and saw none other than Lando standing at the other side of the door.

Contemplating what to do, you opened the door slightly. ‘What are you doing here Lando?’ ‘Please let me in, I really need to talk to you’.

Maybe letting him explain himself was the closure you needed. Carefully you opened the door and for the first time took in his appearance. He looked just as shit as you did. But he was still the most handsome man you had ever seen. You moved to the side to let him in and locked the door behind him. ‘Coffee?’ You asked. ‘Yes please’ he said.

The both of you sat at each end of the sofa. Not knowing who should start first or what to say. Lando started- ‘pushing you out of my life has been the most painful thing I could have ever done, and I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, please hear me out’. You tried you calm your nerves while listening to him. All you wanted to do was erase the last few months and jump into his arms and never let him go.

He continued- ‘things haven’t been going my way recently. What with the car and my teammate outscoring me at races. I talked to Zak about it and he said I was letting our relationship affect my career and that I had to make a choice. Choose what’s more important. I shut him down of the idea for several months. He couldn’t make me chose between my love for you and for f1. The last few races towards our breakup had been the worst. You tried to be there for me and I keep distancing myself. Thinking maybe Zak was right and I should try not be with you and see how I race. Safe to say that was the worst thing I could have done. My races since then have been even shittier. I've had 3 DNFs in the least 5 races. But more importantly, my life feels so hopeless and incomplete without you. Y/N I am so so truly sorry for the way I treated you and for the things I said to you. If anything, I am needy one in our relationship and you are always there for me. To be happy with me or to cry with me, you stood by my side. And as soon as things got difficult, I blamed it all on you. Please know that I have always and will always love you with my whole heart and I hope you can forgive me some day. I understand if you need time to process everything but please know I will wait for you. However long it takes. You are the only person I want to be with. The only person I want to love.’

By now the tears are streaming down your face at full force. Cautiously, Lando takes your hand in his. You feel electricity travel through your whole body at the contact. You tried hard to think about what he said and to really believe him. But he was right. You needed time to think about it all. Even though he admits his mistake, there was a time when racing was more important than you. Do you give yourself in or do you deserve better than that?

‘Lan’ you started. Lando felt goosebumps just by calling him that. ‘I appreciate you coming here to tell me the truth. And trust me, I do want to believe you. I want to forget everything that has happened and continue to live our lives by each other. But I also need time to process. I can’t just drop everything and move on. What you did to me hurt me and I am still recovering the pieces from my broken heart. I don’t know if I am ready to risk it breaking down again. You are and always will be special to me but I just need time before we can become as close as friends even.'

‘I get that' he started before you interrupted him for the second time that day.

I also have to ask, that night out in Belgium with Charles - the photos-' your voice broke halfway through the sentence. 'What about all those girls you were with? Why were you with so many girls, when i traveled miles to be with you and you left me sitting alone in a hotel room.'

Lando sighed. he knew those pictures would come up someday. He needed to find the right words to say to you. To tell you he was never unfaithful. 'Charles and I were minding our own business in the club. Until those girls came along. They claimed to be fans but we both got bad vibes off of them. We immediately shut them down and tried to ignore them. We even moved to another area but they kept following us. Needless to say other people around got the wrong impression and started taking pictures of us. Nothing at all happened with them, I would never cheat on you Y/N. Even though i was acting like a total dick to you, i never stopped loving you.' I also want to apologize for my behavior when i got back to the hotel that night. What i did was so wrong and i can't stop beating myself up over treating you like that.'

All you could do was nod. You didn't know what else to say. You just needed time to think everything through, and most importantly protect your heart at all costs.

'Thank you for listening to me. Please reach out to me when you’re ready.’ With that he got up, kissed your cheek and left.

Needless to say you couldn’t function for the next few days. Your mind was in overdrive about thinking what to do. Of course you knew you still loved him. You wanted nothing more than to just go to him, hug him, kiss him, forgive him. That’s what your heart wants. But do you listen to your head or your heart?

About a week later Lando was at home watching tv (it was the winter break). With a few days to go before Christmas all he wanted was to be in his own space, comfortable silence. He heard the doorbell ring and ignored it. Until the person rang it again, and again. Frustrated, he got up and opened the door without checking the peephole. What he wasn’t prepared for, was you, standing there, looking as beautiful as ever, holding a mistletoe above your head. Lando couldn’t believe his eyes. Without thinking or saying anything, he pulled you into his house and out of the snow. You both stared at each for what felt like hours but was just a few minutes.

‘Well’ you said looking up at the mistletoe. ‘Are you going to kiss me?’ Lando gave you the biggest boyish grin he’d ever given you. And without wasting another second, smashed his lips to yours. You both stood there just embracing and kissing each other, tongues battling for dominance. The two of you knew that you still had things to talk about, re-assurance for each other (you, that you could trust him, and him, that you actually have forgiven him). He gently carried you bridal-style to his bedroom. He sat you down on the bed, suddenly doubting the next move he should take. You didn’t refuse him carrying you to him room, so you must want the same thing as him.

Right? Right.

You quickly pulled him flush against you, both of you ripping each others clothes off. ‘Missed you so much’ he said. ‘Lan I can’t live without you. I need you, always. I’ve missed you so fucking much it’s a miracle I got through these past few months without you. You are my life.’

As soon as you both were butt-naked, you rolled over so that you were sitting on Landos lap. You both had missed this view. You started kissing again. Landos hands found their way to you ass. Massaging it roughly, while you started grinding on his already hard cock. Your juices were already starting to cover him up. Lando lied flat on his back, and moved you to sit on his face. Boy had you missed his tongue on your pussy. He was licking and sucking and touching all of your most private areas. Not giving you any room to breathe. But in the best was possible.

After a few minutes an idea popped into your head. ‘Lan, hold on’ you said as you lifted yourself off him and turned your body around so you could take his hard dick into your hands. ‘Naughty’ you heard him smile, as he resumed his activities on you. Stroking him a couple of times, spitting in your hand and combining it with your juices that were already on him, you took the tip of his beautiful cock in your mouth. The thick vein at the side was what you missed the most. You sucked and licked what you could, pumping the rest of him in your hand. You almost gagged, having gone a long while without doing it. You’d almost forgotten how big he was. ‘Lan, m’ close’ you squealed. ‘Cum for me my love, cum into my mouth’. And with that, you came undone. He sucked up all of your juices. Then re positioned you on his lap.

‘Need you in me’, you managed to croak out. ‘I know baby, you’re still on birth control?’ You nodded. He lifted you up and and you felt yourself slowly sink down onto him. God you had missed this feeling. Him being buried deep inside you. You start to set a good rhythm. Not too slow, not to fast. Just perfect.

After a while Lando lifted you up and re positioned your bodies again. This time you were on your back and Lando was on top of you. You really missed having all his weight on you. He started slamming into you, harder and harder, fucking you. Fucking you after what felt like forever. Tears started stinging your eyes. You were in pure bliss and it was all because of a single man. A few minutes later you found you walls starting to clench around him.

‘Wait for me princess' his mumbled while you nodded. ‘Fuck Y/N I’m so close. I’ve missed you so much baby. I’ve missed you and I’ve missed this pussy of yours, that takes me so well. You let me fill you up so well’. And with that you both came crashing down, legs shaking, heavy breathing and small laughs at just how amazing that was.

After a few minutes, Lando gently slid out of you, earning a moan from you. ‘Just going to get you cleaned up baby’ he cooed. He got a warm cloth and slowly wiped all the mess you both had created. He returned a few seconds later, lying down on the bed, and pulled you to his side. ‘I’m still so sorry for everything Y/N, but thank you for coming back to me. I love you with all my heart and I promise to always keep you happy. Will you spend Christmas with me at my families this year?’ ‘Of course Lan, I’m so happy we found our way back to each other’ you said as you got up on one elbow and kissed his jaw. His lips quickly found yours and the two of you kissed and kissed and kissed until you both fell asleep, excited for what lies ahead.

Thank you for reading, I really hope you all enjoyed this! xx