#this is called : i'm avoiding packing

[sherlocks-freebitch]

As much as I love the headcanons of TMAGP jmart locking eyes across the street, and having an infinitely brief moment before being cruelly swept away from each other, I'm even more in love with the idea of them crossing paths and never clocking each other at all. Maybe they bumped into each other outside a Tesco, both mumbling apologies and avoiding eye contact. Maybe one of them worked in a call centre and the other called up to complain about his phone contract. Maybe one had to squeeze past the other to get off a packed tube. How many people do we cross paths with in the course of our lives who could mean everything to us, if the circumstances were different? How many connections do we miss?

[buryustogether]

songbird

the ghoul x f!reader

summary: you used to be a singer in your vault - that skill comes in handy when you least expect it, and least want to use it. but who are you to say no when cooper tells you to sing for him?

wc: 5.7k

warnings: swearing, talk of murder, blood, alcohol, gun violence, sexual tension, smut, fingering, p in v sex, biting, possessive sex, possessive cooper

You had to admit - if you and your companion didn't find shelter soon, one of you was going to drop and the other wouldn't hesitate to feast on what was left.

The deserts of the Wasteland were harsh - you had known that the moment you stepped out of your vault those months ago and you had been faced with nothing but a searing sun, sand that got stuck places it shouldn't have, and creatures and fellow people alike who would risk it all simply for a quick grab at the pack on your back. But it seemed like this past week, God or Satan or whoever the fuck was controlling this shitshow of a world was in a bad mood. The heat was unbearable, even at night when the chilly winds should have weaseled their way beneath your vault suit and cooled your burning skin. Creatures mutated by the long-settled radiation were feeling the anger of the wasteland, as well, charging without warning or provocation. To top off a less than perfect week, your water supply had run out yesterday, and unless the skies opened up and released a storm of rad-infested hail upon your head, you weren't sure you would find any more before you keeled over and kicked it.

Struggling to plant your feet stable in the mounds of sand beneath you as you made your way between the shells of buildings that had once stood tall and proud, you glanced over your shoulder at your companion. Cooper was better adapted for this kind of environment than you were, what with his hardened skin and the wide brim of his hat shielding his face, but even he looked worse for wear. When he picked up his head, seeming to feel your eyes on him, you quickly averted your gaze and set your attention back on moving one foot in front of the other.

"Fuck're you lookin' at?" he said, his voice raspy as he called out through the dry air.

"Nothing," you snipped back, refusing to give him the satisfaction of facing him again. "Just wondering if I'm going to have to carry you the rest of the way, asshole."

The heat was making you both snappy - you hated it.

Your first meeting with Cooper hadn't gone smoothly. Hell, your second or third hadn't, either. You weren't exactly sure when you had fallen into a more comfortable presence around one another, but it sure as shit hadn't happened overnight. You'd been only half a day fresh from your vault when you'd seen him scavenging madly over a mess of bodies he'd dropped where they stood, searching for a number of vials kept in their pockets that he let drip into his open mouth like a fountain of youth. When you had called out a friendly hello to him, he'd nearly shot your brains out. Cooper had taken in your shocked expression - as you'd clearly never seen a ghoul before - as well as the stark blue of your vault suit and the pack over your shoulders, then promptly told you to scoot your ass back around to wherever the hell you had come from. Of course, you hadn't. You'd followed him from a distance, watching as he'd picked his way across the dusty sands until he'd wrangled you with the lasso at his hip, told you to fuck right off, and left you tied to a number of old pipes in the basement of a nearly collapsed building.

A day later, you'd tracked his footprints in the sand to a little settlement, where you hadn't ducked away quick enough to avoid his gaze. He'd threatened to blow your brains out if he caught you following him again. He'd only half-delivered on that promise when, not ten hours later, he'd planted a fist-sized hole in the skull of a raider attempting to cut your throat for the Pip-Boy affixed to your wrist.

From then on, he'd simply chosen to ignore you as you followed behind him like a lost dog, intent on staying with the biggest, baddest wolf in the yard. After a week, he'd tossed you a part of his rations. A week after that, he'd - not too gently - invited you to sit at the campfire with him when he saw you shivering beneath your thin, vault-issued blanket a good few yards away.

Somewhere along the way you'd started to talk. Started to share - at least, you had. Cooper had simply tucked his hat over his eyes and pretended not to listen while you rattled about this and that until he physically couldn't take it anymore and told you to go the fuck to sleep.

These months later, having accompanied him all this time, you didn't hesitate to call him a friend. Maybe something more, if you let the ache between your legs when you looked at him speak for you, but you knew it was a fantasy and nothing more, so you decided to stick with 'friend.'

Back in the present, you swallowed and winced when your throat barked with a bout of pain in response. You didn't think you'd make it another mile, let alone five, which was how far Cooper claimed the nearest town was. Despite the months you'd spent adapting out here to the wastelands, you were still attempting to cope with the hardships that came with it. Vault life wasn't anything like this; there was always water to drink, beds to sleep in. Cool air to bask in when it got just the slightest bit too hot. Of course, you didn't voice these complains to your companion. If you did, you had no doubt he'd tell you to shut the fuck up and deal with it.

Just as you were about to ask if you could take a short break and get away from the harsh sun beating on your back like repeated blows from a red-hot hammer, a gloved hand wrapped around your arm and held you in place. You jerked to a stop, nearly falling back on your ass as Cooper held you where you stood. You prepared a strongly-worded question as to just what he was doing before you followed his gaze downward, to where a small handful of pairs of footprints traveled perpendicular to yours. Together, you tilted your heads to the left where the foreign prints were headed, and it was there you found a small slope leading downward into what may have once been a shopping mall. From where you stood, you were able to see that the glass dome around the center of the mall had been shattered, letting out the gentle sound of music and human hollers.

You exchanged a look with Cooper, each of you sunken from the iron-fisted heat weighing you down, then slid down the sandy slope after him when he took off toward the shopping mall.

If there was one thing you had learned about Cooper since planting yourself at his side and refusing to leave, it was that he valued silence above almost everything else. You, on the other hand, had come from a talkative vault, where gossip reached every end of every chamber only an hour - at max - after anything noteworthy had happened. Your companion had once called you the biggest yap he'd ever heard, and you would have taken it for a compliment had he not told you to shove it a moment after. The two of you had been silent nearly the entire day now, save for a few venomous barks at each other, and you cleared your scratchy throat in an attempt to lighten your shitty moods.

"I used to read about shopping malls in the magazines," you said, leaning your weight backwards as the sandy slope shifted downward. "They had all kinds of stores inside."

"Thanks for the reminder," Cooper bit back, quickening his stride. "Would have fuckin' forgot without you here."

You let your eyes roll into the back of your head as you struggled to catch up to him, your boots digging into the uneven earth beneath you. "When I was a kid, a few of my friends and I would draw pictures of clothes - because, you know, we only had our suits - and then spread them across one of our rooms and pretend to shop. It was stupid, but it we made entertainment where we could."

"Now, was this before you started pretending to be Billie Holliday?"

You gave him a sideways glance. "Who's that?"

Cooper shook his head and took off ahead of you. "Jesus fuckin' Christ."

During one of your, as your companion called them, yap sessions, you had confided in him that your vault valued the arts above anything else. Since you were a child, they had encouraged you to find something you enjoyed, as long as you were able to call yourself an artist. Painting hadn't worked out too well. Writing had been a bust. But then you'd discovered singing - a way in which you were able to express yourself without actually saying how you felt. You could drape the tunes in metaphors and similes, bump the second verse from the first, and when you were done, everyone would get to their feet to applaud as if your songs were the best things they'd ever heard. Cooper hadn't expressed much interest in this, instead taking to calling you a songbird with her wings clipped when he deemed you were at your lowest and needed to be kicked while you were down.

Of course, you hadn't shown him - you would have to be long dead for that - but over the course of the few months you'd known him, you had confided in your notebook carried in your pack all the little things you'd come up with that complimented his persona. How the gold at his heels called for you with each step he took. The way his hands, encased behind leather that creaked, held a smoke so delicately you could have imagined it was you. The rasping curl of his words when he smiled while he spoke and how each word cast a spell that made you want to follow him until the sun exploded and the earth was gone.

Cooper was an enigma you couldn't help but wonder after, and every scrap of himself he tossed to you led you on like a dog on a leash.

The music and echoing sound of laughter from deep inside the shopping mall became louder as the pair of you approached, eyes scanning for snipers on the roof or guards posted at the busted-out windows. There wasn't a person in sight, only mannequins stripped of their clothing hanging out the openings and long-shredded posters clinging to broken glass. Cooper led the way inside, picking a path across the wreckage and rubble stacked haphazardly against the entrance. You felt your pulse tick up when he produced his gun from the worn holster at his side, tapping his trigger finger against the side of the firearm in time with the music winding its way down the wide corridors.

As you followed your companion through the shopping mall, you couldn't help but ogle at the numerous attractions you passed. Shops had been boarded up and torn open again, giving you a glimpse of tattered clothes still on hangers, books tipped over on shelves, pre-war machines behind display cases that were covered in two hundred years' worth of dirt and grime. Gang signs and dirty catchphrases had been spraypainted along the walls and windows in a rainbow of colors. In the center of the long aisle you were wandering, a carousel meant for children sat neglected, still fitted with cartoonish horses who had seen better days than these.

"Did you used to come to these often?" you asked as you stepped across a mannequin missing its head.

"Shut the fuck up for a minute." Cooper raised a hand to pair with his little spat, silencing you from asking any further questions. His tongue darted out between his cracked lips as he placed his steps carefully around shattered glass and wind-up toys that would declare your position to the entire mall. He led you around a few wide corners before coming to a stop behind an old escalator, motioning for you to take cover. You crouched to peer around the other side, pulling your bag strap tighter over your shoulder. You were met with a sight that made your lips part in wonder.

Made up in the center of the mall's large atrium, directly beneath where the glass dome had been broken out, a small encampment of people had established what looked like a tiny town. Tents rested just inside nearby shop windows and winking Christmas lights had been strung above their heads. Lanterns cast shadows along the faces of the camp's locals as they milled back and forth, sharing dinners, reading from books - and dancing. Booming from a solar-powered stereo was a symphony of fiddles and guitars, harmonies of trumpets and clapping in time with the beat. A woman's tinny voice came through the speakers and she reminisced about an old lover who had gotten away. As you watched the people dance and stamp their feet along with the music, you found yourself drumming your fingers along, as well.

You were so engrossed in the music that you nearly missed what Cooper had his watchful eye on; the fridge-sized container with several spigots on its sides marked with a large piece of paper that read 'Clean Water.'

You and Cooper ducked back behind the escalator.

"Bunch of fuckin' idiots," said Cooper as he pulled a red-capped round from his bandolier and loaded it into his gun's chamber. "That shit'll attract every goddamn raider and feral within the mile."

"They're just having fun," you said, unsure of why you felt so defensive of these people you didn't even know. Maybe it was because they reminded you of your fellow vault dwellers back home. There had been a dance or performance like this nearly every night.

Cooper scoffed. "Fun like this gets you killed, little lady."

Your eyes widened as you watched him pull back the hammer of his firearm. "You're not going to just go up there and start shooting, are you?" You knew for a fact that he would. You'd seen him do it before - draw his pistol and start spinning the trigger because a raider or flock of ferals had what he wanted. But this - this was something different. Before he could do anything more, you reached out and grabbed his upper arm in a grasp so tight your knuckles paled. He flashed you a dark, dangerous look from beneath the brim of his hat, but you refused to let go. "Cooper, these people are innocent. They haven't done anything to us."

"Listen here, dollface, and listen well," he said, quickly spinning you around so that your back was pressed against the escalator. He caged you in, his gun hand still in your grasp and his other arm propped against the wall beside your head. You tried your damndest to not flush when you felt his breath on you, when his hips came just inches from pressing up against yours. "If we're goin' to be carryin' on this little arrangement, you need to learn to keep that pretty mouth of yours shut when I tell you to shut it. Now, I know you vaulties think everyone and their mama is goin' to repay that silly kindness of yours, but do not be mistaken. Keep yappin' and I will drink my fill of that there water while I make you watch, and then I'll tip the rest of it onto the floor. You hear me?"

You were at a loss for words, your tongue dry and your knees beginning to feel wobbly from the lack of water and proper rest. Just when you were about to let your eyes fall back down and accept that he was going to clear out the settlement for their water, footsteps echoed past where the two of you stood. Cooper snapped around and raised his pistol, his other arm still caging you in, and aimed down the barrel at a few young men approaching the rest of the locals beneath the glass dome. Instead of yelling, instead of dropping their belongings and begging for their lives while they pissed their pants in the presence of a ghoul, the men waved and smiled friendly grins.

"No need to hide," one said, gesturing the pair of you toward the others. "Y'all are welcome to come and make yourselves cozy. The more the merrier!"

They continued on, greeted by the other locals with shouts of welcome backs and fond hugs, paying no mind to the wide eyes and parted lips of you and your companion. Breaking away from Cooper's little cage he had created with himself and the wall - as much as it pained you to - you peeked back around the escalator. The young men pointed your way, and a number of people waved in kind and beckoned you forward. You found yourself taking a few steps toward the inviting sight of fresh water and the smell of food being cooked over one of the fires when Cooper snagged you by the back of your suit's collar and pulled you back into cover.

"Where on this good green earth you think you're goin'?" he said in a hushed tone, bringing your face close to his with a commanding grip on your jaw. Another flutter of excitement, of blood rush, bubbled to life in the pit of your stomach and began to travel south, but you suppressed the urge to lean into his touch. You didn't pull away, either.

"They invited us," you said, your eyes wandering back over to the light flickering from the lanterns and fires. "It's rude to turn down an invitation."

Cooper harrumphed and released you a little harsher than necessary. "What you've got is a one-way ticket to bein' on tomorrow's menu, sweetheart," he said, tilting his head to follow your gaze and keep eye contact when you looked away. "If you've about had your fill of the real world up here topside, then be my guest. Go and let'em fatten you up. I'll pour one out for 'ya tonight."

Deciding not to wonder if he would actually pour one out for you, if you really meant that much, you scoffed and shook your head. "You know it's okay to let your guard down every once in a while. Smile, maybe? Wave back? No wonder you're so damn bitter, old man."

Cooper stared down at you, and you wondered briefly if he was considering slamming your head into the side of the escalator. Would he drag you away with him, you thought? Or would he leave you for the strangers just around the corner. After what seemed an eternity, he hummed a short little note and nodded his head toward the camp. "You want to play friends, little lady? Go ahead. See how far that gets you before I've got to turn around and put one between the eyes of a man who's not lookin' just for the sake of lookin'."

With the faintest hint of a smile, you blinked up at him. "You'd turn around for me?" you asked in a murmur.

He matched your heated gaze, dark eyes intense and flaring a torch in your belly. "I suppose you'll just have to find out one of these days."

Swallowing thick, you took a breath, then turned and led him toward the little encampment of people. Heads turned as the pair of you approached, and you found that most of them smiled. You waved to those who offered little shakes of their hands, trailed by a ghoul stalking in his own shadow and resting the crook of his palm on his pistol. You were met by a kind-faced woman near the large tank of water, and she was forced to speak loudly to be heard over the sound of the thumping music.

"You folks just get in?" she said, already fixing two bowls of stew from a large pot simmering over a fire.

You broke yourself from the staring match you were having with the pot, the same one Cooper was still stuck in. Although, he may have been watching the chickens that roamed inside a little pen nearby as he licked his lips. "Yes, ma'am," you said over the trill of the woman's singing. You so desperately wished you knew the words so you could sing along. "I hope we're not imposing."

"Not at all!" A bowl of stew was pushed into your hands, and you forced yourself to be polite and not spoon it down your throat immediately. At your side, your companion gave the rim of the bowl a lick with the tip of his tongue before tipping it to slurp up. "We pride ourselves in being an open community. We might be small, but that just means there's more to share." The tin cups of water she handed over didn't last but five seconds before she was refilling them. "Make yourselves comfortable and stay however long you like. All we ask is that you keep your weapons holstered and don't disturb the music."

You and Cooper took seats at a dining table that had been dragged over from the cafeteria, neither of you speaking much as you both wolfed down what was in the bowls in front of you. Both of your spoons went untouched, each electing instead to drink up the strangely-colored meat floating around inside. Cooper finished much faster than you, and shucked off his gloves so that he could dip his scarred finger in to collect what juices were left. When he was finished, the bowl looked as though it hadn't even been used.

Watching him with a small smile, you let up from your own bowl and said, "I'm waiting."

"For what, exactly, little lady?"

"Your apology." You lapped up the rest of your stew before politely setting your bowl inside of his. "You wanted to -" You hesitated and glanced over your shoulder to make sure no one was too close to hear you. "You know." Then you settled a rather self-satisfied smirk over your features. "And look where we are now. So I'd like my apology now."

Cooper sucked on his finger, ensuring he was getting every last morsel of the stew that he could, and your attention was pulled down to where his lips wrapped around his digit. A part of you began to imagine it was yours. He noticed you staring and grinned wide. "And you know what I'm waitin' for, darlin'?"

"What?"

"For you to walk yourself over there and get me seconds."

You rolled your eyes, but nevertheless grabbed your stacked bowls and began to make your way over to where the woman was tending to the pot. "You'd better be thinking about your apology," you called over your shoulder. When you turned back around you nearly collided into someone retreating back to their spot with their own dinner. You jerked to the side, attempting to get out of their way first, and in doing so rammed yourself into the stereo set on a table in the center of the little camp. You watched in horror, bowls clasped to your chest, as the stereo tumbled over the edge of its pedestal and fell to the floor, where it shattered into what must have been hundreds of pieces. The camp became shrouded in a tense, shocked silence as every eye in the mall turned to face you and look upon your sin.

"I..." Your voice carried through the atrium and down the corridors of the shopping mall, sounding like an isolated cry for help. "I'm so sorry. I - I didn't mean to, I really didn't. Here, I might be able to fix it." You bent down to try and gather the pieces with your free hand, and the moment you did, a number of the camp locals drew weapons to aim in your direction.

"Now," came that familiar drawl behind you as you heard a hammer lock into place. "Are we really goin' to be killin' each other over some silly radio?" asked Cooper, and you felt some of your nerves ease slightly when you felt his chest press against your back.

A man to your right hissed. "You killed him!"

You shook your head viciously. "No, no! I - I didn't kill anyone. I'm sorry, I really am."

"You killed Sterry!" a woman accused.

"Sterry?" You looked down at the broken stereo and began to scoop up the bigger pieces you could find. "I - I can fix Sterry, I swear -"

"There's no fixing Sterry," moaned the woman who had served you stew as she sunk into the closest bench, looking as though she were about to faint. "He's dead. And you've killed us all."

You glanced back at Cooper, who wielded both his pistols now, each pointed in a different direction toward locals who had drawn their weapons. He offered a shrouded look that screamed, 'Now, didn't I tell you so, sweetheart?' You took a shuddering breath and faced the woman who had served you. "What do you mean?" you asked.

The woman placed her head in her hand as if she'd already accepted her fate. It was a daunting sight, the face of a woman so cheery and joyful such a short time ago, now deflated as though someone had let out all her air. "This place," she said, gesturing vaguely to the mall around you. "It's infested." The word was so heavy you felt as though you nearly choked on it. "Infested with creatures that will tear us limb from limb now that you've ruined everything. The music! The music was what kept them away, and now that it's gone..."

As if on cue, from the darkness of one of the long-winding corridors straight ahead, there came the bone-rattling sound of a feral hissing and snapping its weathered jaw. A few of the locals scrambled back as the creature emerged from the inky blackness, arms twisted and eyes sunken so far back into its skull they looked like they were forever pointed toward the sky. It took a rushed few steps forward before Cooper's arm rotated and he put a hole between its eyes. The feral dropped to the floor, leaking dark blood that stained the tile floor.

"Stop being so dramatic, Uma," said an older gentleman who stooped at your feet to begin gathering the pieces of Sterry. You immediately dropped to your knees to help. "We've fixed Sterry before, and we'll fix him again. It won't take long. But while we do, we'll need something to drive those creatures off..."

Your stomach dropped when, as you stood to hand over the pieces of the stereo, you felt Cooper's hands - still fitted with his pistols - rest heavily on your shoulders. "Well, then, y'all folks are in luck," he drawled, and you could practically hear the smirk playing his lips as he spoke. "I've got my very own songbird right here. I'd be happy to lend her to 'ya if, say... you filled our flasks from that there tank when the time comes for us to leave."

"Cooper," you hissed through your teeth as you spun around to face him. Singing for your vault was one thing, but singing for a bunch of strangers in the middle of an infested mall while ferals stumbled from the darkness all around you? He may as well have tossed you back out into the wastes. "You are not going to fucking trade me -"

"Done," said the old man as he sat down and began to sort Sterry's pieces. "Have your girl start singing - anything her heart desires. Just long enough for me to fix old Sterry here."

Giving the man a mock salute that didn't quite raise to his brow, Cooper shoved you onto a bench so that you stood over the rest of the camp. From this angle, they were all able to see your petrified expression and your hands shaking at your sides. "You heard the man," your companion said and smacked the back of your knee. "Get to it, songbird."

"Cooper, I can't -"

Before you were able to finish, Cooper turned, his ears pricking at something yours did not pick up, and dropped another feral that had been silently stalking the camp from the other side. A few of the locals yelped in terror, fleeing into shopfronts and tents.

"Sing for me, sweetheart," Cooper said. He sent you a wink, tipped his hat, then unleashed another round of lead into the darkness which only his eyes could penetrate.

You felt as if you were going to vomit. Sweat began to form on the back of your neck as you fisted your hands and swayed slightly where you stood on the bench. Turning your head, you met the eyes of a few camp locals watching you from their hideouts, their expressions filled with fear, anger, anticipation. They were waiting. Expecting. Needing. Attempting to push down the swelling that was beginning to form in your throat, you looked down at Cooper as he emptied his pistols of empty shells before reloading in order to fend off the ferals attacking the camp - the very camp he'd wanted to take out not half an hour ago.

He'd told you to sing for him. So you'd sing. For him, and only him.

Clearing your mouth and opening your lips, you took a breath and forced yourself to sing. "Death will come from where the earth meets the sky." Your voice wobbled slightly, rusty from having not singing since you left your vault. That, along with the fear and dehydration sitting on your tongue. "The sand is scorched beneath his step, the future decided by his eye." As you sang, the miniature explosions banging from the barrels of Cooper's pistols created a short, quick beat you unconsciously began to tap your foot along to. "He'll come for you all in the end, you'll never be free... he'll come for you all, but never for me."

Ferals shrieked in response to the gunfire, to the song torn right from your notebook in your pack, and one by one, like stage performers who had practiced this dance a hundred times, they dropped at the feet of the camp.

"Death's got a girl who croons his songs, which is why he never stays for long. He's got to run back to his lady, just as harsh as he, he's coming for you, but he's running back to me." As you sang you realized your voice was getting louder, louder, swelling until it filled the mall's atrium and every corridor far beyond. You tapped your heel along with the rhythm you'd created, closing your eyes and imagining an audience of one; a ghoul with his arms slung out across the chairs beside him and a knowing smirk playing his thin lips. It pulled you forward, pulled forth a song you hadn't realized was already in you. "He might sound mean, but I swear, he's kind. He's just got to peer into these eyes of mine. I'll ride with him, and he'll follow me, leaving behind a trail of blood far as the eye can see. Oh, my baby's got teeth to bite and a gun to blow, see his smoke and soon you'll know. Death ain't my man, he's my right hand. He'll come for you all in the end, you'll never be free... he'll come for you all, but never for me."

You had just been nearing a second verse when, from where it rested before the old man on the table, the stereo jumped back to life and filled the atrium with thrumming, pulsing folk music. It drowned out your voice, silenced you like a gunshot, and the ferals teetering on the edge of the darkness leading to the rest of the mall stumbled back into their hiding places. The camp locals slowly emerged from their hiding places, chattering excitedly about Sterry and his newfound love of life. Feeling a little stupid still standing on the bench, you climbed down and shuffled away toward where you had been originally sitting.

Taking a seat, you rested your forehead on your arms and exhaled a shaky breath. What had you been thinking? Singing a song for the man you'd become hopelessly fascinated with while he was just a few feet away, battling ferals who were intent on tearing out your throat and taking your voice with it? You were such a fucking idiot. You wouldn't be surprised if he told you to never open your mouth again.

Just as promised, your flasks were filled to the brims with fresh water before you went on your way, leaving the mall atrium and the singing, dancing camp locals behind as you picked your way back outside. Neither you nor Cooper said much as you continued your trek to nowhere, leaving a pair of footprints like echoes in your wake. Your cheeks remained flushed long after the mall had disappeared into the horizon, and long after you picked out an abandoned building to set up camp for the night. For once, it wasn't from the heat.

You sat across the lantern and what light it cast from Cooper, who stared into the little beacon as if he were watching the most fascinating flick within its glass. You held your notebook in your lap, thumb marking your place as your tried to write, but nothing would come to mind save for the things you'd sung about today. Mortification stirred like a serpent in your belly, and you briefly considered excusing yourself to get up and throw up outside.

"Let me see that book you've got there."

Your head lifted at Cooper's request - more of a demand - and unconsciously tightened your grip around your notebook. Your notebook - full of songs, melodies, lyrics. The most recent half of which you had written about the ghoul staring at you. "This?" you said, your trembling voice giving way to your nerves. You forced out a chuckle and smacked it shut. "It's nothing worth looking at."

"Why not?" he said, voice rasping lower than the baritone he usually held it at. You swore his gaze was hotter than the sun during the day and the fires at night. "You got more songs 'bout little old me in there?"

Fuck, he knew. Fuck all, he knew. You felt your flush deepen as you pointedly tucked your notebook into the bottom of your pack and flipped the top shut. "I... I don't know what you're talking about," you said, avoiding his eyes. Instead you focused on the fraying tip of your boot. "I wrote that a long time ago. Back in my vault."

"Uh huh." Cooper stared you down for so long you thought that perhaps time had frozen. Then he took a barely-there breath. "Come over here, songbird. Let me get a good look at you."

For a long, long moment, you remained still as you ever had been. What was he saying? Normally the only time he let you close to him was when he invaded your personal space to deliver a shove or to smack your knee or thigh to tell you to get a move on. Your breath hitched when you finally lifted your head and found his gaze boring into yours, heavier than a ton and white hot like a branding iron.

"I ain't goin' to tell you again, pretty girl."

As if he had you on a fucking leash - because you swore he did - you found yourself pitching forward, crawling on your hands and knees toward him. He spread his legs slightly, enough to give you room to fit between them, and hesitantly, so very carefully, you rested yourself against his front. His rough, scarred hands, free of his gloves, came up to rest on the swell of your hips as if they were made to be there, fitting like puzzle pieces against your skin beneath your vault suit. You stared up at him, backlit by the lantern light, and let his thumb drag down your bottom lip until it slipped from his touch.

"Didn't think my songbird had such desire in her," Cooper chuckled, his warm breath fanning across your face.

You relished in the goosebumps that crawled over the planes of your skin. "I... I don't..."

"Oh, you'd be dead wrong if you said that little ditty you sang today wasn't all about desire." He settled back deeper where he sat, giving you more room to settle against him between the columns of his thighs. Your lower belly rested against his crotch, where you felt the hard outline of his cock straining against his trousers. Your heart skipped a beat or three. "If you wanted to ride with death, sweetheart, all you needed to do was ask."

Cooper sealed his lips to yours without word or warning, pulling a surprised little noise from the back of your throat that he swallowed up with fervor. As the initial shock faded, you found your eyes slipping shut and your mouth moving against his, lips opening without fight when his tongue demanded to explore your own. Bracing yourself with one hand against his thigh, you reached up with your other and cradled the back of his head, knocking off his hat in the process.

Swift to get a move on, to feel you against him and swallow up more of your sounds, Cooper easily flipped you around so that you were now lying flat on your back and he was hovering over your prone form. Both tingling excitement and nauseating nerves pulled groans from your lips as he moved to pressing harsh kisses and nips to the column of your neck, licking up red spots that would surely bruise come morning time. He shucked off his duster and abandoned it somewhere behind him, at the same time, by some skill you had no idea anyone possessed, also grasping at the zipper of your vault suit to pull it down as far as it would go.

It didn't take long for you to shimmy out of the suit, leaving you in just your underwear, the seams of which he traced with his calloused finger. It sent a chill running up your spine despite the heat prodding at your skin.

"My songbird sounds real pretty when she's singin'," Cooper muttered as he sucked a bruise into the swell of one breast over the cup of your bra. "I bet she sounds even better screamin' for me."

His hand plunged beneath the waistband of your panties and began to explore your folds, pulling a long, whining moan from your lips. He ate you and your whimpers up, devouring your lips like he wanted to eat you whole - maybe he did - while his middle finger ran up and down your cunt a few times before deftly finding your clit and applying a bit of pressure to the sensitive bud. You cried out. It had been far too long since you'd seen any real action. It didn't take long before your folds were soaked, and he was able to gingerly nudge his finger past the entrance of your pussy. It felt foreign to have another person thrusting their finger in and out of you, building you up to a kind of high you hadn't known since far before you left your vault. In less than a few minutes - something he would surely tease you about later - you felt that familiar coil snap in your stomach and you soaked his hand with a loud, throat-rattling wail that escaped your lips and flew right past his.

Cooper pulled back with a self-satisfied smirk and pulled his hand from your panties, lifting his spread hand to show you to slick you'd coated his digits with. You were only able to huff for breath and watch with hooded eyes as he brought his fingers to his mouth and used his skillful tongue to lick off your cum. You briefly wondered what else that tongue of his could do, what it would feel like to have him lap up your pussy like it was the only thing to guarantee him his daily hit of medicine.

"Sweet as honey, baby," he cooed, bracing himself with one hand while the other worked on the buckle of his belt. "Well. Maybe Tennessee honey. You ever had a taste of that?" He knew you hadn't. But that didn't stop his smirk from growing in size when you numbly shook your head. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, baby. We'll get you a lick one day. 'Til then..."

Your limbs dancing with pins and needles, you lifted your hips to help him tug off your panties. "I'll just have to settle for what I've got," you exhaled with a hazy smile.

Cooper grinned wide, a smile that bordered on the edge of dark, as he tugged down his trousers just enough for his cock to spring free. He was thick - larger than you'd expected - and his member was rough and scarred like the rest of him. It made you want to feel him all the more. "I'll promise you somethin', darlin," he said as he positioned himself at your entrance and you locked your legs around his waist, heels digging into the edge of his gun belt. "I'm better than anything else you'll taste these days." With that he slid into you, filling you at once to the brim like he just couldn't wait to feel you from the inside. A loud, sharp yelp escaped your lips as your back arched instinctively, curling yourself up into him. He only waited a few moments for you to adjust before he started moving, pulling himself out to the tip before thrusting back inside your welcoming cunt. You were able to feel each and every ridge of him, every scar, and you swore you were getting drunk from just the feeling.

"Fuckin' shit, girl," he groaned, moving to press the flat of his hand to the base of your neck so that he could keep you in place while he fucked you. "Better than I could've fuckin' dreamed."

Cooper's thrusts began to increase in speed, your moans and whimpers accompanied by his low, almost growling snarls he panted against the shell of your ear. You couldn't believe this was happening. You were being fucked by the ghoul you'd been following all these months, the ghoul you'd been watching and studying and falling hopelessly for. And it felt good. It felt so fucking good, a part of you wasn't entirely convinced this entire scenario wasn't a dream concocted by the recesses of your mind.

"God, Coop," you heard yourself moan as your nails dug crescent moons into the fabric of his shirt. "Feels so fucking good..."

"Atta girl," he muttered, moving his head down so that he could suck at the junction where your neck met your shoulder. "Such a sweet little songbird." His grip on your hips tightened as his movements increased even further. "Might just have to fuck you good every night so I can hear you sing for me."

You panted deep as you felt your second orgasm of the night approaching at an alarming rate. Your hips bucked up to meet his with each thrust, the sound of skin on skin filling the abandoned building in which you had taken shelter. "Don't have to - ah! - even ask. I'll sing for you any time, Coop."

Cooper's breaths came shorter, sharper, and it wasn't long before he came with a harsh bite against your shoulder, one that spilled blood into his awaiting mouth and pulled your own orgasm from deep within your depths. You shuddered and cried for him, tugging him close and holding him there for several minutes after your highs had faded and your breaths evened.

Finally, he pulled himself off of you. A short whine escaped you when he slipped from your heat, and he chuckled low before tossing you your panties to slip back on. When you were both covered again, you sat up and crossed your legs as you basked in the afterglow of what had just taken place. Cooper dug around in his saddlebag for a moment before producing his inhaler and drinking up a shot of his medicine, shaking his head against the sudden buzz that came with it as he sat back on his elbows and stared at the lantern light.

"I..." You struggled to find the words so desperately clawing at your chest. "I hope you don't..."

Cooper reached up and pulled your wrist out from under you, causing you to fall back on the ground beside him with an 'umph.' He let his arm cushion your fall before sweeping a few strands of hair from your face and giving you that crooked smirk which made your legs fall numb all over again. "Oh, don't you worry yourself, songbird," he said. "I ain't lettin' you fly away from me any time soon."

[moviestarmartini]

alta suciedad. — franco colapinto x f!reader

summary: while interviewing franco, you misunderstood what he meant with 'talented with his tongue'. lucky for you, he's more than willing to actually show you his skills.

wc: 2.9k

warnings: interviewer!reader, hispanic!reader, porn with an ounce of plot, set during media day of the austin gp, casual sex, oral sex (fem recieving), p in v, unprotected sex, pull out and pray, mean dom!franco, dumbification, degradation, a teeny amount of praise, aftercare, spanglish/sentences in spanish.

A/N: based on this request and took some inspo from this other anon, i'm literally giggling typing this in order to publish it. no specific song for today even though there's a few references even in the title. hope y'all are hungry!!

“I’m talented with my tongue.” 

You didn’t have that much experience when it came to interviewing professionally— you’d been a kid reporter at the same sport you strived to get there, and in the course of getting there, you’ve seen a thousand and one million things that impressed you. 

But this? 

Your mouth hung open, giving him a few rapid blinks while your brain processed the information. 

“You wanna see?” Franco Colapinto insisted, not reading your expression well enough, or ignoring it at the very least. 

“¿Aquí?” You blinked, unable to process the event in the main language of the paddock. You were one of the youngest reporters there, but that didn’t mean you were inexperienced. That had just completely caught you off guard. 

Franco cocked a brow before showing you and the camera how he could manipulate said organ so the sides touched and a tiny hole formed in the middle. 

Yet again he surprised you, or more you surprised yourself with how further down the gutter your mind was at. 

“Oh, good!” You snapped out of it, but he had seemingly finally connected the dots, or so the smirk in his face made it seem like it. 

“Well, thank you for having us, Franco. Good luck during the weekend.” Your  composure was back not even two seconds later, the cameraman soon signaled the transmission was off. A relieved sigh left your lips while your shoulders relaxed, giving your coworker the mic and transmitter to take to the media tent just a few steps away. 

You were just turning back to head there as well, ready to get immersed in writing a report before your name was called. Your heels turned you around by force of habit, not realizing the tone in the driver’s voice might mean trouble. 

“Yes?” You asked politely, hands clasped in front of you to avoid any chance of fidgeting. Your little crush was idiotic, or so you considered it from the day you first interviewed him. 

“¿Qué vas a hacer hoy?” He took a step closer in order to ask the question, hands stuffed in the front pockets of his jeans. 

“¿Perdón?” You realized that sounded rude, your voice repeating a better answer soon after. “Seguir trabajando, why?” A frown settled between your brows, head leaning slightly to the right. Where was this going exactly? The confusion only settled further when you noticed his eyes darting around before leaning in. 

“Si querés que de verdad te enseñe que puedo hacer con mi lengua, entra al motorhome después de las siete, te dejo la puerta de atrás abierta. Mi cuarto está a la izquierda.” And with that, he pulled away, turned around and left. 

You did the same, convinced the idea was just a figment of your imagination, the drought you’ve been suffering for more than a year to get there tricking every nerve in your brain to believe those words. It was settling into the late afternoon, and you worked at a pace Sonic would envy. His words bounced around your gray matter, and after much debating you stayed after the six pm mark, when everyone else left. You peered your head out of your station noticing how the place was almost empty. It was Thursday after all, the whole crews were not active until the following day. 

The curiosity got the best of you, and you packed your bag to head there, skittish at the sight of anyone who crossed your way— or at least the few that did. 

No one was used to walking behind the team buildings, never mind during what’s considered after hours. Your breath got stuck in your throat when you noticed the door ajar, and no one came in nor out to justify the fact. 

“Thought you wouldn’t come.” Franco’s voice snapped you out of the hesitation, arms crossed over his chest. 

“I thought I was supposed to come in by myself.” You got the bravery to counter with the way your heart sped up with adrenaline coursing through your veins. 

“You’re late.” Franco’s response was quick, witty. His tone made you raise your brow; it was… different. Commanding, you could pinpoint. 

“I shouldn’t come out and get you, vení.” Before you could even process it, he took your arm and dragged you inside, going straight down the hallway and taking a left before the door closed shut— no witnesses visible to what he had just done. 

“You can sit wherever you like.” He invited, his voice was back to its playful tone. You nodded, putting your bag down by the door and sitting on the small couch near a corner. 

“Sos muy bonita, ¿sabías?” He complimented while finishing to fix up his room, side eyeing you. 

“Why am I here? What do you want?” You asked bluntly, not accepting the compliment. 

“Look, if you wanted me to write positively about you on the piece, you already got it.” You carefully watched him take a seat next to you, and you both turned to face each other.

“Tonta también, ¿no?” It was as if you were ignoring each other’s words, and before you could get offended, his fingertips brushed your hair out of the way of your face. Any smart quip you could’ve thrown at him flew out the window, your lips parting. 

“That’s just how you looked at me earlier. When you thought I was referring to something dirty. Tontita.” He inched closer. You couldn’t help but do the same, a bit eagerly, eliciting a laugh out of his lips. 

“Do you like me?” It was his turn to be blunt. Without hesitation you nodded, squeezing your lips into a thin line after realizing that might’ve been a mistake. An embarrassing one at that. 

“No pasa nada. Vos también me gustás preciosa…” His voice trailed with his head leaning closer, lips brushing against the prickled skin of your neck. “…inteligente…” A kiss pressed to the area. “…y al parecer, puta.” 

The gasp disappeared between the blurred lines of your lips and his crashing, the term disappearing in your mind while you kissed him. Your hands gripped the material of his team shirt while his own lowered down your back, pulling you closer, almost on top of his lap. 

“¿Hacés esto mucho? Sneak into other drivers’ rooms?” He asked while leaning back down to kiss your neck with a twinge of more harshness, ragged breath leaving your lips while you shook your head ‘no’ 

“¿Sos muda? Habla.” There was that commanding tone again, his fingers delving into the skin of your thighs to squeeze what he wanted out of you. 

“No. Nunca.” You replied with a gulp, leaning your head back to recieve more kisses as a reward for your answer. 

“So I’m the lucky winner?” It sounded something between a compliment and a joke, and you decided to humor him a little with a smile. 

“One could say so.” You replied, thinking you’ve gotten the gist of it. 

“I’m surprised. With that skirt…” He shook his head after tutting, making you figure out the context of his words. You were into it enough to not get offended by the allegation, normally would have defended yourself with the fact it was terribly hot outside. You didn’t like dressing similar to the rest of the reporters in the paddock, and maybe this once it played both in your favor and against it… sort of. 

His lips captured yours again, his tongue swiping your bottom lip. You weren’t dumb— even if he liked to say so— parting your lips without complaint, feeling the way your tongues tangled together while he pushed you down until your back hit the fabric of the furniture. 

The open mouth kisses started redirecting their path down your jaw, following a trail down the length of your neck. He took the opportunity to breathe your scent. 

“Olés tan rico,” He groaned, the growing erection in his jeans pressing against your upper thigh. 

“I can already imagine how that pretty pussy tastes. Can’t wait to make you cum just using my tongue.”  The idea made you shudder, his hands raising your top to move it out of the way while he kept kissing back. You took the initiative to just pull it over your head and throw it somewhere else. 

“You’re so good, stripping for me without having to ask.” Franco cooed, his pace slowing down when his mouth reached down your belly button, making him look at him expectantly. 

What you didn’t expect was for him to just tug on your denim skirt up to completely move it out of the way without removing the piece, his knuckles brushing the spot marked with your aroused slickness, your hips involuntarily twitching to lean closer into his touch. 

“Si solo te he besado y ya estás re mojadita,” Another coo left his mouth, this one with a certain amount of jest in it. You felt deeply embarrassed in a way your face displayed it, only making his smile grow in size. 

Franco almost ripped off the underwear and chucked it somewhere in the room. No moment to adapt was left at your disposition, his tongue pressing flat against your wet core. The noise of a moan coming from you clashed with the hum of satisfaction he felt from the sheer taste of you. 

“So sweet,” Franco praised, and those were the last words to come out of his mouth before he started to back up his words from earlier. 

The whole situation felt like a dream. Not only the fact he made an advance upon noticing how far down the gutter your mind was, but the fact you even came there in the first place. Not that you regretted it, with how he flicked that sensitive nub with the tip of his tongue.  

You didn’t believe his promise earlier— thinking it was just silly dirty talking— but he was proving you wrong. Your moans were the perfect evidence, fingers tangling in his curls while his left hand rose up to grope your exposed breast. 

The shuffling noise outside the room made him perk up and away from your dripping cunt, chin glistening with your wetness. He pulled his index fingers to his lips to signal you to be quiet before continuing, but his attempt fell futile. You were reaching your release quick, his magic working a little too well. There was no warning; his other hand left the grip on your thigh to cover your mouth, holding it down a bit too roughly to send a message. 

Your muffled moans and cries only set him off, teasing your entrance before licking the trail up to your clitoris, suckling on it. He fluttered his eyes open, and the sight was nothing but completely arousing. Your eyes were rolled back, column arching up while his expert affections tipped you over the edge. Your thighs simultaneously shivered and lightly squeezed his head, and it was enough for Franco to decide he was in heaven. 

Once the overwhelming sensation started to wear off, your legs relaxed, allowing him to pull away. With a clearer mind you noticed how his chin and lips glistened before removing the substance with the back of his hand, as if it was just sauce from an actual meal. 

“¿Por qué me mirás así?” Franco wondered at your blissful expression. “¿Ya te enamoraste, putita?” There was no verbal answer; he was eager to link his lips with yours again in yet another sloppy makeout session. This once, however, you couldn’t pretend you didn’t feel his erection pressing against your inner thigh. 

Taking initiative, your hand lowered down his torso to fumble the button of his pants a little before being able to undo it. A groan followed by teeth tugging at your bottom lip was the reaction you gained from jerking him off slowly under his underwear. That gave you enough confidence to swipe your thumb across the leaking tip in order to tease him. 

The sound of a moan from him echoed inside your mouth, a hum from satisfaction leaving consequently. However, your moment of dominance soon faded with his hand slapping yours away before spreading your legs even further— to the point it pulled on the muscles of your inner thigh just a little, the burning sensation mushing with pleasure— the skirt hiking up to rest on your torso. 

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He leaned in to whisper, feeling him nudge your entrance in order to tease you. The sensation that followed was something similar to your brain shutting down, managing to only nod. The smell of his cologne, his body pressing down on you. 

Franco, Franco, Franco, Fran— 

“¿Qué pasa tontita? Say it.” He egged you on, threatening to push himself inside, but not making it far enough to bring you satisfaction. 

“Yes, por favor.” You begged, getting a chaste kiss for a reward followed by the intrusion spreading your warm walls. You saw the way Franco tried to keep it together, the façade crumbling under a groan. You felt too good. His mind could only pinpoint your body under his, the warmth hugging his stiff dick and electrifying every nerve of his being. 

His mind couldn’t stop chanting your name. 

“Move,” You asked nicely, though it came out in a huff. He found himself too enthralled to complain at your tone, instead complying. 

The lower tone of his moans harmonized with the high pitched of yours, the sound of skin frantically coming in contact filling up the room enough for both of you two to forget what could possibly be going on outside. At least it had been a while since you last heard people outside doing whatever. 

“Dios, que apretadita estás,” Franco groaned out loud, his lips brushing against yours. You took the leap, closing the distance between the two of you. But you couldn’t get much out of it due to your own fault, moans interrupting the session. 

“No, besáme.” You whined when he pulled away slightly, and a smirk rose at his lips before he locked them with yours, pace increasing. You struggled to engage further, the moans and groans interrupting. 

“No, besáme.” Franco replicated your plea from earlier before laughing between heavy breaths. 

You couldn’t do anything but pucker your bottom lip out, not finding the words to complain about how mean he was being. Besides, all coherent thoughts disappeared the moment you felt your second orgasm peeking from behind you at a rapid rate. Your nails dug into the uncovered skin of his forearms, just below where the team shirt started covering his biceps. 

“¿Por qué me apretás tanto?” He hissed before falling upon the realization, deciding to keep having his fun with you and slowing down. 

“Fuck— ¡¿qué te pasa?!” You groaned, feeling the release reeling down into a sensation of being completely stuck midway. 

“Dale, decime lo que quieres. De forma bonita, como vos.” He kept his thrusts slow and deep, trying to contain his own release from the pulsating walls squeezing the life out of his cock. 

“I wanna cum,” You felt the embarrassment of having to request that out loud settle in your stomach, soon washed over by the sensation the quickening of his hips gave your core. 

“Si, si. Franco, that’s it,” You cried out, hiding your face in the crook of his neck while your thighs shivered once more. 

Your cunt was so warm and tight he almost didn’t pull out. Almost. After a groan left the back of his throat, droplets of white painted your lower abdomen, thankfully not staining your skirt. 

He kept himself supported by his forearms, allowing him to lean in and kiss your forehead and cheeks. 

There wasn’t much to be said, you knew that, and so did he. Carefully, he fixed his underwear and pants before getting up, muttering something under his breath in his attempt to find the wet wipes he knew he had… somewhere in the organized clutter of his room. 

“Dejá que te limpio,” His voice was tender, the wet tissue dragging across your skin to remove the seminal liquid, before another carefully cleaned the sweat off your forehead and neck. 

You thanked him with a nod, unable to hold eye contact for long. Once you felt comfortable you sat up, fixing your clothes and hair before getting up on your legs, still a bit wobbly. You took it upon yourself to clean the damp spot on the couch where you laid, still embarrassed by the whole ordeal. 

Quickly, you slipped your underwear on, unaware of the pair of eyes following your every move with a cold calculation. 

“¿Qué vas a hacer hoy?” The question he asked to what seemed to be ages ago popped up again, making you turn, just as confused as you were earlier. 

“Dormir… cenar. Ya veremos, dijo el ciego.” At your cheeky response his laughter echoed through the room, arms folded over his torso. 

“¿Habrá un espacio para mí en esa cena o nos vemos mañana a la misma hora?” He took a step closer. Then another. And another. Until he stood in front of you, leaning down enough to whisper in your ear. 

“No importa si no me querés ver hoy en la noche todo caballeroso, mañana procura llegar a tiempo y controlar esa boquita.” Yet again, his voice electrified goosebumps all over your skin. 

What did you just get yourself into?

[biteyoubiteme]

late shift

fem!reader x bangchan

synopsis: you and your virgin coworker Chan share a bed. 

warnings:🔞 !!! virgin!chan, whiny!chan, oral (m!rec), orgasm denial (m!rec), size kink if you squint, dom(ish) reader, praise, no protection, creampie, one bed trope, prob forgot some

wc: 3.77k

an: my first request! Thank you for submitting hope i did it justice lol also i lost the request i dont know where it went ;-; but i think i got everything you asked for

I used the line about ‘inviting someone back for ramen at your place’ synonymously with the term 'netflix and chill' I'm pretty sure that's the way the line is used in Korea. Correct me if I'm wrong lol. Anyways feedback appreciated :)) not proof read sorry! [m.list] 

You've been at your current job for a few years and every other Friday you and your coworkers go out for a drink or dinner depending on how heavy the workload had been the previous weeks. This Friday was one of those times, only most of your coworkers had taken a work trip to help secure a big account. The office was basically empty around the end of the day now, only your office light and the office across the hall was on. Chan, the owner of the space in front of yours, could be seen typing on his computer through the glass, one of the few who had opted out of the trip to be able to leave earlier. Only both of you hadn't been leaving the office at reasonable times even if it had been promised. your days were still just as long only now you were picking up the other's work while they were gone. it was a shit deal but neither of you would complain, too shy to bring it up to your boss who did in fact keep his word on letting himself out early. 

rubbing at your eyes you power off your laptop after looking at the time. if you didn't leave now to catch a streetcar you would have to walk home and you were too drained to do that. you start to pack up your things and across the way, you can see Chan doing the same, probably set to move when you did. he was always nice enough to wait every night until you got off to walk you to the stop sign to wait for your ride before he went across the street to catch a streetcar headed in the opposite direction. even without your other coworkers, he was always smiling at you from across the way waving as you left to head home. 

As you slung your bag over your shoulder and headed to turn out the lights Chan was at the doorway giving a shy smile. “I'm a few seconds from collapsing on the floor and sleeping in my office,” 

“me too,” you flip off the lights, “and I'm starving I don't even think I have anything in my fridge,” 

Chan keeps pace with you as you make your way out of the building, reaching ahead of you to press the call elevator button “We could always keep the tradition going even if it's just the two of us, find a place for dinner?” 

“I don't know, not a lot of places are open at this hour and I want to eat on the couch and pass out,” you say hopping in after Chan when the elevator arrives. The space is small enough to have your elbows touching. Chan pressed the button for the lobby, “We could eat ramen at your place?” 

You are shocked to hear his suggestion and you assume he is too seeing at how he is bright red and stuttering, “No not like that- well kinda but just the food part- wait- I-,” he cuts himself off giving a flustered sigh, “I'm sorry i- we do not have to i'll just go home I'm sorry,” chan's rubbing at the back of his neck, ears red, eyes scrunched to avoid looking at anything at all because it would kill him to see your negative reaction. hell, it will kill him hearing you say no and push him away even if it was an innocent suggestion in the first place. he really didn't mean it that way he only wanted to hang out because he liked you and now he's gone and ruined that with a suggestion he didn't even fully intend to say in that way. 

Your giggle fills the silent elevator and you bump your shoulder against his arm, “It's okay Channie, it's definitely a perfect idea, ramen sounds so good, anything warm will send me straight to bed,” You find it cute how flustered he gets around the topic of sex. drinks out with coworkers leading to his confession months ago that he was inexperienced in bed, the flush on his cheeks as he begged the others not to ask him dirty questions. 

please you're joking Chan there is no way you haven't had sex yet! your defense of him that night only makes him like you more, who cares anyway? We should not be sharing bedroom talk with our coworkers. To know you are all kiss and tellers is an explanation enough as to why none of you get any when we go to bars. The conversation moved past Chan's Confession to laughs about how their coworkers had in fact picked up ladies from bars before. Chan had been thankful but the next morning when he remembered sharing he was a virgin in front of his crush was mortifying but you never brought it up again. 

you didn't really care that Chan was a virgin, finding out didn't make you like him any less than you already did. even if Chan had been asking to go back to your place to have sex you don’t think you would have turned him down. for as long as you worked in the office across from him you couldn't help but think about asking him out just the two of you but you had witnessed Chan turn someone down before in the breakroom. The way he smiled so sweetly as he said he didn't really like to date coworkers made you try and push the image of the two of you together away. you were friends and inviting him over was something friends did. 

“There is a convenience store across from my apartment, works out great,” you smile once you leave the elevator, “it won't be too late for you to head back home later?” 

“no northbound street cars run another lap, unlike the southbound ones I should make the last one,” the two of you ride to your place with polite small talk, and when you get off you cross the street to the store to pick up your dinner. 

It's the first time Chan has been in your small place, the one you haven't upgraded since you were in college because you didn't see the need for any more room but with Chan in the living room taking up most of the couch you wish you had. Both of you seated watching TV had your legs pressed together from the hip to the knee, his body heat overwhelmingly comfortable as you ate dinner. 

Neither of you realized you were beginning to fade, eyelids heavy as you tried to blink away sleep. When you realized you had dozed off, the TV was playing a movie that neither of you had put on, your head resting on Chan as he slumped over the armrest of the couch. you pick up your phone to check the time, the movement waking Chan up, “oh no it's so late,” you yawn pulling yourself up, “The last streetcar left an hour ago,” 

“shit,” Chan yawns, stretching out still in his button-up shirt, he had taken off his work coat when he came in but this was nothing he could sleep in. 

“it's okay you can stay but I have nothing for you to wear,” 

“I can walk it's okay-“

“You will not be walking all the way home. it's fine you can sleep in my bed I don't even think the couch is long enough for me to stretch out all the way,” 

“Then where will you sleep?” 

“the floor, it's okay,” you say waving him away to check to make sure your room is clean of clothes on the floor. you wave him over as he shakes his head, “No you're not sleeping on the floor in your own home, we can share I don't mind, or I'll Sleep on the floor,” 

“Fine, we can share,” You're too tired to argue, too tired to think about the fact that Chan is standing in the doorway as you turn around and pull out your oversized sleepshirt, shedding your work top and bra off. 

Chan is suddenly frozen fully awake watching you. He can only see your bare back turned to him, the image of your fingers unhooking your bra burned into his mind before you tug on the oversized shirt. but you're not done, the button of your work pants is undone, and at only sound in the room is the ripple of your zipper before you tug your pants down leaving you in your underwear. he cannot see them but he can see the outline through your white shirt, the black fabric hugging your ass as you pull the covers back to climb into the bed. “turn off the lights when you're ready,” your eyes already closed as you snuggle into the sheets. but Chan can't move. He is sure if you opened your eyes it would be very obvious that he was thinking about you lying in bed next to him almost naked. only two articles of fabric separating your completely naked form from him. 

he swallows the lump in his throat unbuttoning his work shirt, when it's gone he starts on his pants even taking them off to leave him in his underwear is enough to make him sigh. the pressure on his cock releasing just a bit but not enough to make him go soft. He's cursing at his body for making it so obvious he wants you. You're so natural at this, not even caring that he's climbing in bed next to you and he's a complete mess as he edges in on the far side of the bed trying not to make any contact at all as he turns the lamp off. 

in the dark, he tries to tell himself to calm down but it doesn't work, not when he can smell you on the sheets, when all he can think about is that if you touched yourself you would have to do it in this bed. 

You're not even thinking about anything besides falling asleep. You can hear Chan trying to get comfortable next to you, tossing and turning, the dip in the bed from his weight making you slide closer to him. you're barely touching him but he's gone still next to you, without thinking you roll your hips to try and pull away not wanting to make him uncomfortable but it does the opposite because you slide closer to him your ass pressed against his very prominent erection. 

if it wasn't for Chan's uneven breaths you would have thought he was asleep with how still and quiet he is. you wonder if you should pull away and ignore him, act like nothing was wrong, that you did not feel anything at all, and that you were asleep already and it was an accident. but the heat of him makes you wet, just the idea of rubbing back against him sends you into overdrive. you move your hips again to hear the soft whine Chan lets out, he's so close to your ear that it makes the sound amplified. 

Chan reaches out, his palm wrapping around your hip and you brush against him again. His whine is louder, a weak, “I'm Sorry,” mixed in with the sound. Chan's hips bump forward looking for more friction but you can tell he's trying to hold himself back with how hard he's holding you. “it's okay,” you whisper grinding back into his strained thrusts. 

“ill stop, I swear,” but he can't bring himself to listen to anything he says, the feel of your ass against him is so much better than when he ruts against his pillow at home. You're so warm, so firm, and he can't help himself. Chan's movements are jerky as he presses himself against you, the thin material of his underwear making him groan in annoyance. 

“You don't have to stop,” you mutter, encouraging him with each roll of your hips against him. “if you want I can use my hands,” 

The thought alone would have made Chan cum if he hadn't pulled himself away from you, rolling on his back and whining from denying himself. 

you sit up next to him, watching him squeeze his eyes shut, hair a mess on his forehead before he runs his hands through it grabbing the strands and pulling at them. He's panting hard, the rise and fall of his chest catching your attention. You've never seen Chan shirtless, you didn't know that underneath the suit he wears he is completely ripped. Your mouth waters with the need to lick him up and down, to kiss him, if he let you suck him off it would be a very good night. “If you don't want me to use my hands I could use my mouth,” Chan whines again, a weak thrust of his hips into the air at your words. you lean down until your lips are next to his ear, “If you don't want my mouth I could let you use me in other ways,” he's fully humping the air now, fists made in the sheets. 

“I don't- I've never…” he shakes his head finally opening his eyes. pupils were blown looking for you to understand, “I want to be good for you but I don't know how,” 

“I can show you,” your lips brushing his as you whisper it, “only if you want me to,” 

“I do!” he nods, “I want you, I've wanted you so fucking bad for too long,” 

you kiss him and he could shatter at the seams from finally getting to taste you. Chan has made out with people before, he knows he's a good kisser, what he's worried about is everything else. but with your lips on him, he's a little less worried. breaking the kiss you move to straddle his abdomen, kissing down his jaw as he throws his head back. He can't control his thrusts anymore, searching for friction where you're purposefully not giving him. “patience Channie,” you say between nips at his neck, his whines in response but you shake your head. “I know you're needy but it will feel better with foreplay,” 

he nods as you work down his collarbones, reaching his nipples as you slide down his body. you lick down his chest and abs, circling his navel and following a line down to his waistband. The cold air hits the line you've made down him and Chan moans at the feeling, goosebumps rising over his arms. He wants to touch you, peel your shirt away, and finally see more than just your bare back. almost as if you can read his thoughts you sit up placing your ass on his thighs before pulling off your shirt. nipples pebbling from the air, Chan's hands fisting the sheets so hard his knuckles are bloodless. 

“If you're good next time I'll let you lick me the way I did for you,” Chan whines almost painfully before you lean down moving back until you are face to face with his clothed bulge. already a dark spot on the fabric from his precum. “Let me know if you're about to cum okay?” 

Chan nods head lifting to watch as you lean forward and kiss over where he's straining in his underwear. his hips try to chase your mouth when you pull away and you tisk at him, “Patience Chan I shouldn't have to tell you twice,” 

“I can't help it,” he moans, your fingers hooked into the elastic around his waist pulling the fabric down his legs, his cock heavily slapping against his stomach. every vein prominent, ruddy tip swollen and begging to be kissed. you gather the spit in your mouth before letting it drop down against his length. If you are going to fit it in you're going to have to take the time to stretch yourself out so it won't hurt. For now, you wrap your hand around him, giving him a few shallow pumps, his moans of approval the only sound in the room. you let Chan thrust into your hand when he doesn't like your pace but you completely pull away when he says, “I'm going to cum im-“ he whines so loud at missing his release, your lips on his thigh as you use your hands to hold his hips back from coming up off the mattress. 

“no please, please I want to cum, please,” he begs, trying to rut in the air but you shake your head. 

“You have to wait pretty boy, you can hold out a little more right?” but he doesn't get to answer when you lick up his shaft, tongue swirling around his tip. 

Chan has never been so noisy in his life, he's never wanted, no needed, to cum so bad. when you fully take him into your mouth he sees spots in his vision, the coiling in his pelvis intensifying. he doesn't want to tell you but like you're sucking the words right out of him he whimpers, “cumming im-,” but it's ripped away from him again and he's on the verge of tears. he won't be able to last any longer not like this, when every brush of your fingers on him makes him twitch. he lets go of the death grips he has on the sheets pushing himself up be rolls the two of you over. 

you're shocked as he pins you down, his face pressed into your neck whimpers tickling your skin. “please, can I cum inside you?” his cock is rubbing against your covered center, and he can feel that the fabric is wet with your arousal, knows he must be doing something right when your soft moans come every time he rubs against your clit. 

you nod knowing you won't be able to say no to him, not when you want him this bad. “take my panties off,” Chan listened, not waiting a moment to follow your order. when they are gone he's stopped by the sight of you. laid out for him glistening, you reach down using two of your fingers to make a v pushing open more of yourself so he can see. Chan watches as you drag your fingers through your wetness, and whines as he watches you dip a finger into your entrance.“you listen so well Channie if you keep listening I'll let you taste me,” 

chans weak in the knees at your words, he wants nothing more than to please you, to hear you say nice things to him over and over, to finally let him sink into your warm heat. “please,” it's so quiet you almost miss it. 

“Grab your cock in your hand,” he does as you say, “then lean over me and run the length of you in my wetness kinda like you were doing before okay?” he nods and when he plants his hand next to your head he looks down to watch what he's doing. both of you moaning as he rubs against your clit, he could just stop here, he knows just this will make him cum without a second thought but you won't let him. “drag your tip down until it catches if you miss ill help you, okay?” 

but Chan doesn't need your help, the head of his cock prodding your entrance, his hips jerking knowing he's so close to feeling all of you, “you're doing so good,” you hum brushing your fingers through his hair, “slowly push in I won't be able to take it all unless you go slow,” 

Chan pushes in following your instructions. he's hardly in when he's shaking, you feel so fucking good, warm, and just right. he will never be able to imagine taking you while he's alone again, his hand won't cut it anymore, not after this. 

his moan is guttural as he fully seats himself inside you, your hips meeting his. chans so deep you can swear he's touching your womb, your hands wrap around his shoulders, both of you catching your breath, “you have to move slow, warm me up a little before you can trust harder,” Chan nods but he doesn't know if he will be able to last long enough to make himself go any faster. Your warm walls feel so fucking good he could cum without moving at all, but he slowly pulls out before sinking back in. You're so wet it's easy to find a steady pace. 

“Just like that Channie,” you moan and Chan whines at the praise, he wants to be perfect for you, as perfect as you've been for him and he can't control himself, his hips sinking hitting you deeper than you felt before. 

you moan loudly as he brushes your gummy stop making you see stars, “your hand, use your hand on my clit,” you whimper and when Chan's fingers find the perfect spot he feels you clench around him. he gives a shocked moan not realizing you could feel any better, his orgasm so close he presses his fingers harder against you, your shocked gasp music to his ears. you didn't think you would cum seeing as it was his first time but you're right on the cusp when you hear his pants, “I'm going to cum, please, I need to cum, let me cum in you,” he begs eyes watching where the two of you connect. 

“you've been so good to me,” your words making his stomach flex, balls tightening, and you can feel him twitch inside you, “cum for me Channie,” 

he cries out as he finishes, hot ropes of cum spilling inside you making you follow right after him. The fluttering of your cunt makes him whine sinking in deeper letting his body weight fall on you as he pumps more cum deep inside you. 

never has he cum so hard or this much, never did he think it would feel this amazing. 

Chans is lying on top of you, both of you sweaty and panting. your fingers comb his hair back from his forehead, scratching his scalp until he's humming. you can feel his softening cock inside you, his hips twitching every once in a while. Neither of you moves, only enjoying the feel of each other. “Did you mean what you said?” Chan asks and you scrunch your brows. “what?” 

“about next time? that there would be a next time.” 

you giggle pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Yes if you're good there will be a next time,” but you can feel Chan twitch inside you already growing hard again. 

[rafecameronsslut4ever]

CASUAL pt.2— lando norris (angst)

pairing; fem!reader x lando norris summary: it took lando too long to realise it wasn't just 'casual'. warnings: a LOT of angst, toxic relationship, sexual implication, not proofread a/n: casual part 2 was not really a part of the plan but the audience had demands 🦧also i think this was too long lmao. AND IM SO SORRY FOR THE LONG DELAY OMG

part 1 - casual

miami grand prix: the biggest pr nightmare for every driver—especially lando norris.

the media had been all over him that weekend, going to the lengths of literally calling him 'the hottest catch on the single market'. hollywood stars and instagram models were so desperate to marry him and have his kids that they didn't catch on the fact that he was a 23-year-old racing driver who couldn't give a fuck about them.

because he was stuck on you.

for weeks, he'd waited—hoping you’d reach out, or at the very least, watch his instagram stories. he posted shirtless photos, sun-kissed photos—hell, he even threw out a thirst trap just for you. But you didn’t take the bait. you didn't take the fucking bait.

you hadn't texted him or spoken to him since the moment you walked out of that hotel room weeks ago, so he didn't try to reach out either. "would've been a blow to my ego," he'd told sainz.

but now, he didn't give a shit about his ego. he was tired of waiting.

his eyes darted across the packed club, friends and guests scattered all around. he couldn't wait to get out of there.

he hadn't been drinking. didn't really feel like it. truth be told, he hadn’t been feeling much of anything at all.

pool parties, clubs, yachts, champagne and girls.

he was tired of the glitz and glam of his life, and you were the only escape from it.

but you were gone.

his mind wandered to that morning, when you had kissed him and the two of you had ordered room service. when he had held you for the last time.

he hated how the only thing on his mind was you. how it was the only thing on his mind all through the celebrations, as hookers danced around him and people tried to pour drinks into his mouth.

for fuck's sake, he had won a grand prix for the first time in his life, and yet he was unhappy.

how did he get here?

he looked up, eyes falling on a group of men in the VIP section, the lights illuminating their faces.

everyone could tell something was off with lando. he didn't want to do any of this.

all he wanted was you. you, you, you.

the girl who had left without an explanation.

why had you left, anyway? no calls, no texts. your friends avoided him, and you avoided his friends. it was like the two of you were nothing.

lando norris was many things, but he was not a fool. he could recognise when something was wrong, or when a situation had escalated beyond his control.

he knew that there was a reason why you left, but the reason never clicked in that thick brain of his. what had he done wrong? where had he gone wrong?

"i'm not feeling too well, mate." he muttered, handing the beer bottle back to the guy standing next to him.

okay, maybe not admitting his feelings for you had fucked things up. but, what could you expect? he didn't have the time to give you what you deserved.

not right now, at least.

lando norris had the world on his fingertips. he could have any girl he wanted. anyone, really.

"what are you waiting for, then?" the other man asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"what?"

"just call her, bro. i know it's about a girl because there's no way any sane man would say no to expensive beers and a million hot hookers."

did lando even know this man? probably not.

"i can't call her. she doesn't want to talk to me. trust me, i've tried."

"have you?"

he didn't know how to deal with rejection. not like this, not with you. you weren't supposed to leave.

"judging by your sulkiness, i doubt you're going to find a girl like her again. and you'll never have her if you're here."

lando didn't have a heart of stone, as much as his social media persona might suggest. he didn't care for any of this. the women, the money, the fame.

he wanted to hold you again. kiss you, tell you he loves you. he wanted to hold your hand. he wanted to be near you, and only you.

so, when his feet hit the floor and he found himself walking towards the exit, he wasn't surprised.

yeah, it was foolish of him to leave a party full of women who were celebrating him (literally) for a girl who had ghosted him, but the need was stronger than his pride.

out of the yacht, he was dialling the only number he'd ever memorised. the phone rang, and then it rang again.

would she be wearing his clothes, or would she have gotten rid of everything related to him?

maybe she'd found another man, finally realising that lando was a bad investment.

as the phone rang, you were hidden in your apartment with blankets wrapped around you and a youtube video playing in the background.

it had been months since you'd heard the word 'casual' leave his mouth. months since you had fled london and monaco to move to miami.

at first, his words had echoed in your mind constantly, and you'd cried yourself to sleep a few times more than you'd like to admit.

but just like every heartbroken poet in history, the hurt faded and the pain slowly morphed into hatred. and anger.

you wanted to slam your head against a wall. scratch that, you wanted to slam his head against a wall.

it was so stupid, and you hated yourself for believing he'd been genuine.

it was just sex. that's all it ever was. it truly was just casual.

the phone was still ringing. your finger hesitated over the answer button. you weren't going to answer it.

it wasn't worth it. you didn't want to hear his voice. didn't want him to have the satisfaction of knowing that his words had hurt you. you didn't want to know if he was sleeping around, if his girlfriends were prettier than you.

so the line went dead.

lando stood by the harbour, watching as yachts and ships sailed past him. the air was humid and his t-shirt clung to his body, the heat almost unbearable. the sound of waves, the distant laughter and music, and the sound of his ragged breaths.

he ran his fingers through his hair, looking around. where was his car?

he had to find his way back to his hotel. he was a mess, and his clothes were sticking to his skin. he needed to fix his appearance, buy a bouquet a flowers.

he checked the time on his watch, and cursed as he saw the numbers. it was almost 3 am. he wouldn't find flowers anywhere at 3 am.

"fuck it." he said, running over to his car. the drive was quiet, save for the low hum of music and his occasional swearing when someone drove a little bit slower than he'd like.

lando norris had the world on his fingertips. he could have any girl he wanted. anyone, really. but he only wanted you. he was a hopeless romantic, and you were his muse.

when he pulled up outside the apartment, his nerves were going haywire. he ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath before getting out of the car.

he knocked twice on the door and when it opened, his eyes lit up.

you stared back at him, sleepiness in your eyes and confusion etched on your face.

and god, did you look gorgeous.

he loved you, he realised. he had to cross his hands behind his back to stop them from reaching out and holding you close.

"lando?" you breathed out.

he had grown a slight stubble since you last saw him. his hair were still the same, except a little bit longer. his blue eyes were wide as he looked at you.

"hey," his voice was shaky.

"what the fuck are you doing here?"

he wanted to say so many things. ask you why you left, where it went wrong, why you moved to miami. he wanted to declare his love for you, press his lips to yours, hold you by the waist. he wanted to hear you say that you loved him too.

he was so in love with you, and you had no idea.

"lando? why are you here?" you asked again.

he was at a loss of words. what could he say? he couldn't exactly just stand there and say nothing.

"because," his voice cracked, "i miss you."

your throat went dry. he could not just say that.

it had been weeks. weeks of him not contacting you, weeks of you not speaking to him. the phone calls had stopped, the text messages had stopped, the late night chats had stopped. everything was just gone.

and now, he missed you?

tears welled up in your eyes, a lump forming in your throat. you shook your head, pushing back the tears, "go away."

"what? no, wait. wait. don't do this." he pleaded, his voice fragile and desperate, like a child trying to avoid bedtime.

"lando-"

he interrupted you, voice louder than before. "can we please talk about this?"

"what is there to talk about?" you were raising your voice. you hated him. how could he act like this after all that happened?

"everything. just—please, can i come in?" he sounded so pathetic. he felt so pathetic. his hands were slightly hovering over the door, ready to push it open and walk in.

the request took you by surprise. "i-no."

you missed him. there was no denying that.

you wanted him to tell you it was okay. wanted to go back to that night in his mclaren, the night he told you he liked you. wanted the weekends spent in london with his family. you wanted him, all of him.

his curly hair wrapped around your fingers, blue eyes staring at you, soft lips kissing you. his cold hands grabbing yours, and his voice saying your name. you wanted it to not be casual.

"i just want to talk to you."

he was drunk. there was no other way he would've showed up here, let alone begged to talk to you. the fact that he needed to be drunk to have this conversation made your blood boil.

"do you still have my jacket?"

of course, you still had his stupid jacket. the one that had his smell embedded into the fabric. it was an exclusive print mclaren had given him, and he had swung it around your shoulders after the night you had first made love to each other.

but he didn't care about the jacket, and neither did you. it was just a reminder.

you were silent for a while, taking in the sight of each other. it was his breath mingling with yours.

"i love you." he whispered.

your breath hitched in your throat, the tears finally falling out of your eyes as you sighed.

"i love you," he repeated to himself. "yes, i do. and i've known that since the day i met you."

you choked back sobs as you shook your head, "you're drunk, lando."

"i'm not," he chuckled, "maybe a little, but not enough."

then, he added, "i mean it. i love you." his voice was steady. he truly meant every word. but he didn't know what would happen now.

"what do you want me to say, lando?"

he sighed, "anything."

you laughed bitterly. anything, he said.

anything would've been better than what had happened.

"i don't think i can do this, lando."

"we can take it slow."

"you've never done slow."

he fell silent again because you were right. he'd never done slow. he didn't know how to take things slow. he was a fucking formula 1 driver, after all. slow wasn't something he did. he'd always lived life like it was the last day. and that's how he had lost you.

"i'm sorry," he began, his voice breaking. "i should've been a better person. i'm sorry for everything i did. i should've given you more, i-i should've loved you more, because you deserve so much more. i'm so, so, sorry."

"lando," you whispered, "it's not—"

"don't make excuses for me, please. i love you, i realy do. and if i have to spend the rest of my life proving that, i will." and he meant every word. "i just want you back."

your mind was racing, a million thoughts running through it. it was like a movie. his blue eyes, his voice, the desperation in his tone, the way he stood before you.

"okay," you muttered.

"wait, okay? does that mean—"

"you're gonna have to work for this," you said.

"i know, and i will. i promise."

you sighed, rubbing your temple. this wasn't a good idea. "get in."

lando's face lit up, and before you could change your mind, he had walked into the apartment. he hadn't really been here before, considering you moved here after the two of you had stopped talking. but the apartment was lovely, homely. everything you.

you closed the door behind him, watching him look around the living room.

"how'd you know where i live?"

he chuckled, turning to face you. "i'm a famous driver. i have my sources."

"i'm sure." a tense silence followed, neither of you knowing what to say.

"i'm not letting this happen again," he blurted, "i'm not. i don't know how, but i won't."

"i don't believe you." you scoffed.

"fuck, baby, what do i have to do for you to believe me?" he stepped towards you, closing the distance.

"stop calling me that."

"you are my baby." he tried to joke.

"lando, i'm not joking."

"i'm serious too," his voice was sincere, "i love you, and i'll do whatever it takes for you to believe me."

you had been through a lot together. the highs, the lows. you had seen him at his best, and at his worst. the good and the bad.

he moved closer, reaching a hand out to hold yours. you didn't know why, but the moment his hand touched yours, it was like a switch had flipped inside of you.

you let his hand wander over yours like a ghost, his calloused fingertips tracing over your knuckles. he intertwined your fingers together, eyes casted down.

"i've never cared about anyone the way i care about you." he admitted in a soft voice.

and then he pressed his lips to yours. his other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

and god, did he taste the same. lando had a way with his lips. it was a talent. he kissed you like he needed your lips to survive. he was desperate for your touch as if he had been starving without it.

you were so lost in the feeling that you hadn't realised how far you had pushed him until the back of his knees hit the couch, and he fell on top of it.

his eyes were wide, mouth hanging open. his shirt was halfway unbuttoned, exposing his chest and toned abs.

the two of you stared at each other, eyes searching the other's.

"i love you." he murmured for what seemed like the hundredth time that night.

maybe it was the way his blue eyes bore into yours, or the way his lips quivered, or maybe it was the fact that he had driven across the city to say this.

but for the first time that night, you believed him. suddenly, the anger was gone. it was all gone.

"i love you, too." you whispered.

it was the only thing the two of you needed. the confirmation, the reassurance. the love.

you leaned down and connected your lips once more, hand reaching up to his curls and tugging lightly. he moaned into the kiss, pulling you on top of him.

your tongue entered his mouth, the taste of him making you lightheaded. his hands roamed over your body, the feeling of his skin against yours.

"baby," he whispered between kisses, "i want you so bad. i've waited so long."

his lips trailed along your jaw and down your neck, sucking marks into the sensitive skin.

"i want you," he murmured against the crook of your neck, "so fucking bad."

but he pulled away, flipping the two of you over so he was on top of you. he took off his shirt, and rested his head on your chest. he cleared his throat, "i should've asked this question earlier, but are you single?"

"yeah." you chuckled, running a hand through his curls.

"so, can i be your boyfriend?"

"lando norris," you hummed, "did you finally get the guts to ask me out?"

"yes," he smiled, lifting his head up to look at you, "yes, i did. will you be my girlfriend?"

"you're a dork."

"that's not an answer."

"yes," you laughed, "yes, i'll be your girlfriend."

lando grinned, and you grinned back.

it wasn't casual anymore.

(u guys im so sorry if i've tagged someone who doesnt want to be tagged i just had no idea how to let non-followers know part 2 is out bcs tumblr is not letting me reply to comments😭if anyone wants their tag removed, feel free to dm me!! i hope u liked this) @oscarpiassrri @meglouise00 @f1fantasys @technicallypleasanttree @ggaslyp1 @obxstiles @nataliambc @prudyhoo @idkwtdwml123 @ushygushybaby @emilyroxy @yootvi @fishingarden @pillowprincess4him @herexpertcollector

[peachesofteal]

Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader This will make the most sense if you read this first

Simon is chopping vegetables when the power goes down.

It happens in slow motion. The lights waver, warm yellow glow from the living room lamp trembling before it goes out with the television, along with the bright white glaze of the bulbs in the kitchen. They flicker, they flare, dipping his world into darkness.

Months ago, he might have panicked. His anxiety might have peaked, he would have considered checking the locks, ensuring the shades are drawn, validated any weak points of entry. He would have gone for closest stashed handgun.

But things are different now. His mind doesn't jump to a security breach, or an imminent threat. He doesn't consider his consider his "go bag", he doesn't reach for his "work" phone.

Instead, he only thinks of you.

He raises his voice to ensure it reaches you through the flat. "Think we lost power."

"Simon!" Your voice is drenched in fear, the two syllables of his name dripping in it, white flash of panic just on the edge, and the knife goes down easy on the cutting board, carrots and celery nearly finished, electric burners on the stove turning from red to black. Candles. There are candles in here somewhere, aren't there? And flashlights.

"Sweetheart?" The flashlight on his cell clicks on, and he double checks the knife is safely away from the edge of the counter. He calls your name, waiting for a response, for an acknowledgment from Emma's room, where the door is open with his girls inside, one of them fresh out of the bath and hopefully, nearly asleep.

There's no answer. He sweeps the flashlight across the ground, hoping to avoid blinding you or Emmaline, working his way closer to the pitch black doorway. The space in his mind that was calm a moment ago, now begins to spiral. Why aren't you answering him? "Honey? You alright?"

Emma begins to cry. It's not her hungry cry, or her full nappy cry, or her attention cry, but something else, something scared. Distressed.

He's in the room with the flashlight pointed at the ceiling to ensure it bounces off the white paint and around the four walls within a second, heart now hammering in his chest, and when he finds you, spine stiff, eyes peeled wide in terror, something in him breaks.

You're standing in front of the crib, Emmaline cradled tightly in your arms, rapid rise and fall of your chest too fast, too uncontrolled, your usual whimsical, effortless beauty marred by a grim absence, your body frozen into a cage around the baby, empty gaze locked on the floor.

He recognizes it immediately. Knows it too well, knows it in himself better than anything else, a cursory reaction pushing him forward- his touch over yours, his hands supporting Emma's weight. You gasp into him, wild, staggered breaths that make his stomach twist, and he rubs a soothing palm down your spine. "It's okay." He coos. "You're okay, just breathe. I'm here. You're safe, mama, I've got you." Emma hollers, confused and scared, and he pulls her into his chest, holding her there with one arm, another still tethered to you, trying to jog you back to yourself, to your body. To him. "Just breathe, sweetheart. You're alright, take a big breath."

It doesn't work, and he can't do both, so he makes a split second decision, one he hopes doesn't make everything worse. "I know, baby girl. I know. Mama's alright, she's okay." He bounces Emma, relaxing a fraction when her crying settles, and then leans in to cup your cheek, tipping your face up to his. "I'm going to put her in the living room, honey. In the pack and play, okay? I'll be right back. Jus' keep breathing." You give him nothing except for an attempt at a deeper inhale, and he soothes Emma with a close cuddle, finding your phone and pulling it from the dresser to make sure the baby isn't left alone in the dark.

She goes into the little pen in the living room so easily, already nearly asleep again, and he pats her back for a moment, ensuring she's comfortable before running into the room, back to you.

You're blinking now, cheeks wet and shining in the dark, breathing a bit less haggard, and it kills him, haunts him, to see you so terrified, so lost in your own head. "Hey sweetheart. Can you hear me?" He touches you carefully, intentionally, the lack of resistance encouraging to the point he feels confident enough to hold you, cradling your head against his chest, curled over your body like a shield.

"Si-Simon." Your fingers tighten into his side.

"It's me. I'm here, I've got you."

"Em..."

"She's in the next room. She's okay." He smooths a palm over your temple, into your hair. "Let's take a look at you, sweet girl, can we do that? Can you look at me?" You tilt back, eyes and lids sluggish, but with it, conscious, and the anxious knot in his heart relaxes slightly.

"The lights." You stammer, and he nods.

"The electric went out. Did it scare you?" You give him a confused look, like you didn't hear him, or didn't understand. He strokes a thumb across your tear stained cheek and repeats himself. "It's okay, did the dark give you a fright?"

"N-no. Not..." You shake with the denial. "It's... is there a fire?"... what? He cocks his head. A fire?

Oh.

Oh.

His sweet, sweet girl. Not afraid of the dark, only lost and tormented by your grief. Terrified of losing again, trapped in a nightmare that is all too familiar to him.

"No, there's no fire, angel. I'm right here. I'm here, with you." He uncurls your frozen fingers to splay them flat against his chest, over where his heart thumps steadily, covering it with his own. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

"You promise." You croak, and he hums, rocking you slowly, gently swaying in the dim light of the phone's flashlight.

"I promise." He swallows the shiver in his voice, burying his nose atop your hair, holding you as tightly as he can. "I swear. Nothing could keep me from you, nothing. Remember?" You rasp out a yeah, feathery soft and feeble, and he kisses the crown of your head, sweet and slow, rubbing your back, your shoulders, kneading the tension from your muscles until the glaze of your panic fades, somber expression tightening across your face. "None of that." He whispers, because he knows what you'll say, he know how you'll try to apologize, try to explain it. "I know, sweetheart. I know."

He gets you folded up on the couch in his arms after locating and lighting most of the candles, setting up a few flashlights in the bathroom and bedroom, collection of mix matched scents littering the coffee table. You're weepy and exhausted, watching Emma sleep in the pack and play, her blissful little face sugar plum sweet as she dreams, and he tucks you into his chest, laying you down, facing her, mouth pressing little kisses to your temple, your cheek, your ear.

"Close your eyes." He encourages when you yawn. "You can sleep. I just want to hold you." The fireplace pops, and you crack an eyelid wide.

"She might wake up." You mumble.

"I know, I'll get her." He soothes, and you wilt, easily reassured by him, something that makes his chest swell with pride. He keeps his fingers moving, stroking across your skin, settling you into twilight, and just as you slip into your own dreams, he whispers a final testament, something he carries with him, every second of every day. "I've got you. I've got you both."

[woso-dreamzzz]

Skatt's Halloween

Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: The first of my Halloween-centric fics

Mapi sighs as she assembles you and your sisters in front of the big wall by the hallway for a picture.

Your oldest sister, little Cub, is whining at Ingrid.

"I want to be a lion! You said I could be a lion!"

"And you will be a lion," Ingrid assures her," But for proper Halloween. For club Halloween, we agreed that you'd be a beetle, remember?"

For the four years you can remember being alive (though you can only really remember three of those years), you know that Halloween is difficult.

There's two Halloweens but also kind of not really.

Mapi says your family does two Halloweens. Proper Halloween that everyone celebrates and club Halloween that only your family does at the last training day before Proper Halloween.

You think it's kind of cool that you get to get dressed up twice.

But, club Halloween means matching costumes. Or, at least a matching theme.

The chooser of the theme is picked out of a hat to avoid arguing after last year's debacle when Cub and Bebita got into a big fight and Sunshine's new camera was caught in the carnage.

But it's okay now because you were chosen and you want the family theme to be insects.

Teeny is dressed as a stick insect. Your twin, Bebita, is a mosquito. Sunshine is a ladybug and you're a bumblebee. For actual Halloween though, you're going to be a cockroach.

Cub's meant to be a beetle but she keeps trying to take off her costume no matter how Ingrid tries to placate her.

"Cub, please," She says," It's only for a few hours!"

"No! No! Lion! Lion, rawr!"

Mapi sighs again as Teeny drifts off to the side to grab at a toy, completely ruining the shot.

"Bebita!" She says suddenly," Stop trying to bite your sisters!"

Bebita, who was halfway to putting Sunshine's arm in her mouth, huffs. "I'm a mosquito! They bite!"

"Yes but you don't need to bite your sister....Teeny! Stop trying to open up the markers!"

"No!" Cub continues," I want-I want to be a lion because I'm Cub and cubs are lions!"

You don't know why Cub's kicking up such a fuss. It's a good beetle costume. It's not itchy or scratchy so you don't get why she's complaining.

"Sunshine, please don't try and pack that camera," Mapi says on the very edges of your senses," That's the expensive one and we've had three broken cameras this week alone."

You giggle a little as you run your hands down your fluffy bumblebee costume, wiggling a little to look at your stinger. You really like your outfit, even the little wings that you can't quite see but know are there.

Ingrid had assured you earlier that you looked like the best little bumblebee in the world so you hope on Proper Halloween you can look like the best cockroach in the world too.

"Lion!" Cub insists and you look over at her, feeling all weird in your tummy.

Cub cries a lot more than you and Bebita. Sunshine doesn't cry much either but she can be a little emotional. Teeny's the youngest so she cries a lot too.

"Cub, baby, please-"

"There's a lion beetle."

Cub stops, turning to look at you. "What?"

"There's a beetle called a lion beetle," You reply," It's a type of longhorn beetle."

Cub falls silent for a moment, thinking as she holds her løve. "Okay," She says eventually," I'll be the lion beetle for club Halloween and a proper lion for Proper Halloween."

Ingrid breaths out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Cub. Now, are we ready for pictures?"

"Okay."

Cub goes hurrying off to the wall and you take Ingrid's offered hand as she leads you over.

"Thank you, Skatt," She says, a soft kiss dropped onto your head," Are we all ready for pictures now?"

"All good," Mapi says as she corrals the rest of your sisters to the wall," Ingrid, I think we've got the prettiest set of insects anyone's ever seen."

Ingrid smiles indulgently, clicking her fingers above her camera to capture everyone's attention. "I think so too."

"A stick insect, a mosquito, a ladybug, a beetle-"

"Lion beetle!" Cub cuts in.

"A lion beetle and a bumblebee," Mapi finishes," Alright, girls. Look at Mumma's camera. Smile."

Ingrid takes lots of photos before getting everyone in the car.

"Did I do good?" You ask when Ingrid takes your hand," With choosing the costumes?"

"A perfect job," Ingrid assures you," I love seeing all my girls as little insects."

"Good," You say, giggling as kisses flutter all over your face and neck," Sorry Cub started arguing."

"It's okay, Skatt," Ingrid says," It's not your fault. You're a very cute bumblebee."

"That's what Mami said!"

"Well, sometimes Mami's right about a few things."

"Hey!" Mapi hangs her head out of the window. "I'm right about a lot of things."

"You called my costume a honey bee! I'm a bumblebee!"

Mapi laughs, waving her hand. "Same thing."

"It's not!"

"She's teasing you," Ingrid says," She knows you're a bumblebee for Halloween."

"Really?"

Ingrid grins. "The prettiest bumblebee in the world!"

[catlvrmax]

LOST IN THE PADDOCK.

MV1 X FEM!READER

summary getting lost in the paddock and bumping into the current world champion was definitely not on your bingo card.

cw amara is the only oc, no use of y/n. this is my first time writing rpf since middle school, so bear with me. ALSO, this is a work of fiction: i don't know these people irl, i don't know how they act. NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER.

face claims girls on pinterest but you can obviously disregard them, and imagine whoever you want.

masterlist | taglist

—

"Ah, fuck," you mumble to yourself, panickedly walking away from the direction you came from while also looking for your best friend.

You call her name a few times in hopes of her popping her head out of the Ferrari building's corner but to no avail. The group and guides you had been with are nowhere to be found, and you have to avoid bumping into employees wearing the entire rainbow as they hurry around you.

You curse the moment you decided to enter the giveaway for those tickets. Although you weren't a Formula One fan, simply because you never fully listened to Amara's ramblings and analysis, when you stumbled across a giveaway of otherwise very expensive tickets, you didn't hesitate to enter it. Despite entering for her, you kept it a secret. The list of entries was long, and the odds were not in your favour, so you didn't want to get her hopes up. You couldn't contain the bubbling excitement when you got the e-mail verifying your win for two Paddock Club tickets for the Spanish Grand Prix.

After announcing it to your obsessed-with-cars best friend, you decided to make it a five-day trip, planning to sightsee Barcelona before the race weekend and spend a free day after it. The first day had been great, albeit tiring, but you had woken up the next day buzzing with anticipation to walk around the paddock. You were the assigned photographer, as you knew Amara would want to listen to everything the guide said. You were content with taking pictures of the place and her. 

Until now. You were definitely not happy with being the camera guy. Because of that, you'd just lost your group in the middle of God-knows-where, with no idea where the building you came from was. So immersed in your grumbling and reading the map on your phone- you collide with someone. Your phone and water bottle slip from your fingers, and the tote bag slips from your shoulder to your elbow. You hiss at the sudden weight shift.

The smell of rich cologne enters your nostrils, but you don't dare look up. Your cheeks burn. "Sorry." You bend down to grab your things.

The man seems to have the same idea, as seconds later, he's on his knees and gathering his things before you can reach them. "No, it's alright! I wasn't looking where I was going."

He extends his full hands with a smile, and you return a sheepish one before grabbing your things. You take a second to look at him. He wears a Red Bull cap and T-shirt, looking like everyone who hurriedly passed you with papers and phones in their hands. I should ask him for directions. He looks like he knows the place.

"Uh...Is there any way you saw a group of people with guides walking around here? I'm supposed to be with them, but I kinda lost them." You lift the camera, further explaining why you're separated from them.

He can't help but chuckle at your flushed cheeks. "Unfortunately, no," he pauses. "Are you here for the weekend?" You nod. "Haven't they given you a map, then? They usually do, to avoid people getting lost."

You show him your phone. Your fingers brush as he pulls it closer to look at the map. "Yeah, they have. But I can't figure it out. Kind of my first time coming to something like this."

He looks at you briefly before returning his gaze to the phone. "Really?" He sounds surprised. He shouldn't.

You looked out of place compared to the rich-as-fuck members of your group. You had no idea how people dressed for these occasions. Even Amara didn't really know what to pack, so you both agreed to wear comfortable clothes. With the race being during June and in Spain, you would rather be comfortable than sweaty. The only thing tying you to the group was the Paddock Club pass you wore around your neck.

"My best friend is really into this. Loves the sport. I won us the tickets, but I'm barely grasping the basics." You laugh, and he joins. You like the way his eyes crease when he smiles wide.

"Oh, you're the ones that won the tickets! Someone told me about that, I think. Congrats!" You thank him. "How's your weekend so far?"

You shrug. "T'was really fun. Until I got lost while taking pictures of the Ferrari building." He snorts.

Leaning next to him, you try to follow his finger as he scrolls around the zoomed-in map. "You figured it out yet?" 

"I think I have, yeah." He shows you the phone. "We're here. The garages are right there. You'll be watching the race on the floor above them." You nod, slowly grasping your surroundings. Turns out it's easier to figure it out when you're not panicking and a handsome stranger is helping you. "You got it?"

You flash a bright smile. "Yeah, actually, I think I do!" You look at him. "Thank you!"

He shrugs. "No problem. I know it's easy to get lost, especially with so many people running around."

"Still. Thank you. You probably have to be somewhere, and I took up a lot of your time." You step back, turning in the direction he'd shown you.

"Don't worry about it." He fixes his hair under the cap.

"Thanks again." You wave and turn to leave.

"Hey, I forgot to ask you." You turn, confused. "What team are you supporting tomorrow?"

Oh, shit.

It's like a deer caught in headlights situation. You suddenly forget all ten names of the racing teams, desperately racking your brain for an answer. You swear you know all ten.

"Uh..." you nervously clench and unclench your water bottle. "Ferrari?" It's more of a question rather than a statement.

He laughs, and your cheeks return to their warm state. Bad answer?

"Ferrari?" He asks as if saying really? You shrug, and he huffs a laugh.

"I told you I'm not good at this!" 

You hear a shout and simultaneously turn to see a man in a Red Bull shirt beckoning him over. 

"I have to go. But you should watch out for the Red Bulls. I hear they got the better cars!" He winks and waves before walking away from you.

You roll your eyes and smile wide on your lips. Of course, he'd tell you to cheer for his team. The back of your hand touches your cheek. It's incredibly warm. You blame it on the hot weather.

—

"I'm telling you, mate! She had no idea who I was!" 

Lando rolls his eyes. "And I'm telling you there's no way. Your face is plastered everywhere."

It's Charles's turn to roll his eyes. "Or maybe she was more worried about finding a way back than asking for pictures."

"Yeah, maybe she was being polite. Didn't want to attract any attention to you." Albon adds.

Max shrugs. "I don't know."

"Was she pretty?" Oscar elbows Lando's ribs, as the latter can't contain his giggle.

Max's neck flushes. He shrugs again. "Yeah, I guess."

"Ohhhhh!" George and Lando pat him on the back teasingly, and Charles laughs at Max's expression.

Before they can tease him about this mystery girl more, a woman wearing a headset informs them they have to part ways and get ready for qualifying.

—

"And Fernando was so bloody nice, too! He was more than happy to sign the cap for you!" Amara waved her hands excitedly as she recounted everything you missed while lost.

You sat near the windows overlooking the pits, watching as the teams got their cars ready for qualifying, far away from the TVs and the crowded tables, not wanting to converse with anyone but your best friend. You chewed on your extremely expensive pasta, intently listening to her meet-up with some of the drivers. 

"I can't believe you met the only driver I know," you whined, lips pouting sadly.

"I swear I didn't realise you were gone until they stopped us to greet the drivers. I was fully into that tyre explanation the guide was giving."

"Gee, thanks." You smile, giving her the middle finger.

"Oh, you know I don't mean it like that. Without you, I wouldn't even be doing the stuff we did today." Amara pulls on your middle finger, and you both giggle.

"So, tell me what you did when you were alone," she urges, sipping her drink.

"You mean when you left me wandering like I was looking for my mother?" She gives you a pointed look. You shrug. "I stopped a Red Bull guy to give me directions. He was helpful and cute. Also took some pictures while I was making my way back here."

"Oh, was he a mechanic or what?"

"I don't know. Didn't catch his name." You smile as you recount his advice. "He told me to look out for the Red Bulls because they have fast cars."

"Well, he's not wrong."

You finish your food and drinks, chatting until qualifying is about to begin. You sit on the balcony, watching the cars drive on the track. You get settled, watching the small screen in front of you, commentary loud in the headset you wear. Qualifying goes by quickly, with Amara explaining things you don't understand and you nodding along.

It's no surprise—in Amara's words—that Max Verstappen came first in his Red Bull. He's the one dominating this season, after all. Second comes Carlos Sainz, and third place takes Lando Norris. Your best friend cheers a little more for him. You shoot her a look, and she just shrugs. "What? He's fast, and he's handsome." You laugh.

You decide to leave before others, not stick around for post-qualifying interviews. Although there's a great chance you can catch drivers, take pictures and get them to sign autographs, you're both far too exhausted to stay. There's always tomorrow, Amara says, and you agree.

You're looking through the Uber app to find a car available to take you back to your hotel when you hear Amara all but screech beside you. You look up, watching as she runs towards a wall decorated with a gigantic poster of three drivers. You recognise Lewis Hamilton and Charles Leclerc and...Oh, shit.

"Can you take a picture here," she calls your name pleadingly.

Your eyes are wide and glued to the tall poster, even as you pull the camera up to your face. You snap a couple of pictures before Amara walks back to you. Her wide smile falters as she watches you stare at the poster intensely. You rack your brain for his name and know that you should know it. Amara has mentioned it before, but you just can't put your finger on it. He's in Red Bull, so it's either Checo Perez or—

"Is that Verstappen?" You point to him.

"Yep. Two-time world champion." Amara looks at the poster and then back at you, eyebrows furrowed. "Why are you looking at him like that?"

"He's the guy from earlier."

"What?!"

—

yourusername

liked by amaraiscool, yourmom, and 167 others.

tagged amaraiscool

yourusername chatted with a guy today, turns out he's the current world champion.

view all comments

amaraiscool i can't believe you met max verstappen

> yourusername amaraiscool i cant believe you let me get lost

amaraiscool and i can't believe you didnt recognise him.

> yourusername amaraiscool hes cuter in person, too bad you didn't get to see him :))

yourfriend1 THE DRESS IS SO CUTE, AMARA WTF DROP THE STORE!!!!!!

liked by yourusername

yourfriend2 johns freaking out rn lol

> yourusername yourfriend2 AW, i bet hes not being as dramatic as amaraiscool was when i told her :,)

> amaraiscool yourusername met THE max verstappen.

—

"You should totally text him," Amara says between bites.

She offers you a piece of chocolate, and you offer her a bewildered look. The hotel room's TV is playing a random spanish show, but with no subtitles, you can barely grasp what they're saying. Amara is scrolling on TikTok beside you.

"Text who?" You already know who.

"The two-time world champion. Duh." She rolls her eyes.

Amara hadn't stopped talking about the Max interaction since you'd pointed at his gigantic poster. The more she spoke on it, wiggling her eyebrows, the more you blushed. She had gone over a thousand scenarios, all of which you ended up hooking up with him. You had to remind her that despite his popularity, he was a stranger to you. 

"I don't have his number, 'mara. I told you he just helped me find my way."

She flicks your forehead. "That's what Insta is for!" 

"No."

"But why!?" Amara whines in your ear loudly, like a child when you take their candy away.

"It's weird! He's cute and all," you sit up, pointing your finger up," but he doesn't know my name," you put another one up, "he'll think I'm creepy," you point a third one, "and that is if he sees the requested message."

"Uh, you're ruining my scenario-building process."

"That's what Tumblr is for. Leave my quiet, boring life out of this." You dramatically sigh.

"Isn't that how all fanfiction starts? Boring and quiet life turned upside down?" Amara tilts her head.

"I don't know, 'ave never read any." You shrug, lips pursing.

She huffs a laugh, and you hold in yours. "Liar."

There's a pause. You think over Amara's suggestion. Max Verstappen is cute. And it wouldn't hurt to try and get his number. You'd never see him again after this weekend. And the worst he could say is: "Security, please get her out of here!" 

What the fuck am I thinking? He's a literal superstar. Me bumping into him was a one-time thing. 

Ah, fuck it. It's not the end of the world.

"You know what?" Amara turns to look at you. "If I get the chance tomorrow, I'll talk to him. Try and get his number."

Her eyes almost pop out of their sockets. "What?"

"I mean, I'm never seeing again? Right? It could go either way. He doesn't call for security to escort me like I'm crazy fangirl, or he does, and we pray no cameras recorded the moment."

Amara shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant, but she can barely hold her wide smile. "Sounds like a plan to me."

"Not much of a plan. I'm just indulging in your delusions."

You share a laugh before you fall back in bed beside her. You shuffle closer to your best friend's side, eager to watch the TikTok edit she is staring intensely at.

"Oh, look, it's your future boyfriend!" 

"Shut up."

previous | next

[romugh]

TEACHER'S PET? NO, STUDENT'S PET!- NR

ROMUGH’S KINKTOBER

october 9th — classroom sex

DAY SIX || kinktober masterlist || 2024.

pairing- prof!natasha romanoff x gp!student!reader

cw- 18+!!; top!reader, bottom!natasha, legal age gap (23, 29 - not specified), oral (n & r rcv), handie (r rcv), blowie (r rcv), slight exhibitionism (?), praise kink, unprotected sex, soft & rough emotional sex, classroom sex, breeding!!, creampie (i'm a slut)

wc- 9.424k :) enjoy!

a/n- wrote this within the universe of suddenly, the star i studied was you, but it isn't the official second part i have in mind! could be read as a standalone, but i'm incredibly proud of that fic, so go give it some love :D i don't really know if this keeps up with the personalities i had written in that fic though, apologies :')

synopsis- it's been a few weeks since your 'confrontation'. what has changed? what will change?

taglist?- @lost-mortemanghel ♥︎, @idkwhatever580, @elliecoochieeater, @left-and-right-up-and-down, @deadlesbianwitches - comment or dm to be added :)

The classroom felt quieter than usual, the soft hum of the projector echoing in the background as Natasha’s voice droned on about particle physics. But even the intricate equations and complex theories weren’t enough to distract you from the tension that had settled between the two of you. It had been weeks since that night—the night when your worlds collided in a haze of heat and emotion, and despite your best efforts, neither of you had been able to forget it.

Natasha’s demeanour had been mostly collected—calm, composed, the epitome of professionalism. But there were cracks in her carefully constructed facade. You noticed it in the way her hand occasionally trembled when she picked up the chalk, the slight hesitation in her voice when her eyes accidentally found yours in the sea of students. It was subtle, but you could feel it, the way her walls were crumbling bit by bit.

Your own mind wasn’t much better. Each time you saw her standing at the front of the room, dressed in that form-fitting blazer or the sleek black dress she wore today, her glasses perched delicately on her nose, it took every ounce of self-control to stay composed. Every word she uttered, every gesture she made, sent your mind racing back to that night—the feel of her body pressed against yours, the way she had whispered your name as if it were the only word that mattered.

But now, all you could do was sit there, waiting, watching her, trying to keep the memories at bay as she continued her lecture.

As the hours drew to a close, Natasha cleared her throat, her eyes darting around the room as if to avoid yours altogether. "That's all for today," she said, her voice clipped, too formal. "We'll continue this discussion next class. Don’t forget your assignments."

The students began to pack up their things, the usual chatter filling the air, but you stayed seated, watching her carefully. Your heart beat a little faster when you saw her glance at you out of the corner of her eye, her posture stiffening ever so slightly. She was trying to ignore it, pretending everything was fine, but the tension between you was undeniable.

As the last student left the room, silence descended, and Natasha stood at the front of the room, her back to you as she gathered her things. It was now or never. You took a deep breath and stood, making your way toward her desk.

“Professor Romanoff,” you began, your voice steady yet low, the sound echoing in the empty classroom. The name felt bitter on your tongue, a reminder of the professionalism that hung heavily between you. You longed to call her something softer, something that reflected the intimacy you had shared—and wanted to share—rather than the formality that now seemed to stretch endlessly in the air around you.

Natasha froze for a moment before turning to face you. Her green eyes met yours, that mask of professionalism slipping for just a second. You could see it—the flicker of uncertainty, the tension that had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks.

"Yes?" she replied, her tone betraying the calm she tried so hard to project. Her fingers fidgeted with a stack of papers, her usual confidence wavering.

"I was hoping we could talk," you said, taking a step closer. "About… the last few weeks."

Her gaze hardened for a moment, the formality snapping back into place. "I don’t think that’s appropriate. We should keep things professional between us."

Her words were sharp, meant to create distance, but there was a tremor in her voice that betrayed her. You weren’t deterred.

“I agree,” you said, voice smooth. “But that has still been impossible, hasn’t it? Has anything changed since that night?  What are your true feelings for me, Nata– Professor? Not the ones you’re pretending to have.””

She blinked at you, her breath catching in her throat, though she tried to remain unfazed. But you saw it—the way her chest rose and fell just a little quicker, the way her gaze flickered to your lips for just a split second before she could stop herself.

The silence between you grew heavier, the air thick with the weight of unsaid words, of unacknowledged yet shared emotions. And then, without another word, you took another step forward, close enough now that the heat of her body radiated into yours.

"Natasha," you said, completely dropping the formal title, your voice a little softer, but still firm. "I’m not asking for much. Just… an honest conversation.”

She swallowed hard, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came. You could see the internal battle waging inside her—the part of her that clung desperately to control, to keep everything professional, and the part of her that couldn’t deny the connection between you, the one that had begun to blossom hours before she saw you in class that day. The tension was palpable, her defences cracking, and in that moment, you knew she was struggling just as much as you were.

Her eyes flickered with hesitation, like she was testing the weight of the silence between you, trying to find a way to speak without losing herself. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she sighed, her shoulders slumping just the tiniest bit as she let the tension leave her body.

“Fine,” she whispered, her gaze still locked on yours. “Talk.”

You waited for your words to come, expecting the flood of emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface. But instead, you stood frozen in the quiet, your lips parting and closing again, as if the truth you wanted to say was too heavy to let out. The silence pressed between you, thick and unyielding.

Her hands moved instinctively, adjusting the papers in her grasp, shuffling them just to give herself something to hold on to. You noticed how she avoided your eyes, her usual confidence in the classroom slipping, replaced by an uncertainty that hung in the air.

Without thinking, you stepped forward again, regaining control over your swirling thoughts. The tension between you felt alive, buzzing in the air that now seemed far too small for both of you. The need to reach out, to touch her, was almost unbearable, but you held back, grounding yourself in the moment. Your eyes never left the constellations of freckles on her skin, the silent pull between you growing stronger, as if even the smallest movement could shatter the fragile restraint she was trying so hard to keep.

"What’s wrong, Nat?” Your voice cut through the silence, low and wavering. “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks."

Her breath hitched at the sound of her name on your lips. It was a simple thing, just the use of her usual nickname, but it shattered the fragile boundary she had been trying so hard to maintain.

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” she said, but her words felt weak. You could tell she didn’t believe them herself.

“Really?” you challenged, a faint smirk tugging at your lips as you reached out to brush a piece of chalk dust from her shoulder. The touch was innocent enough, but the way her breath caught in her throat told you all you needed to know. She was unravelling, bit by bit.

“Maybe I should leave,” she murmured, her voice shaky, as she tried to step back. But there was no conviction behind the words. Her eyes were still locked on yours, her pupils wide and dark.

“You could,” you said softly, not moving an inch. “But we both know you won’t.”

Natasha blinked, déjà vu coursing through her veins, her chest rising and falling more rapidly now. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and you couldn’t help but follow the motion, drawn in by the subtle, unconscious act. She was trying so hard to keep herself together, but you could see it—the way her bravado was cracking, the controlled exterior fraying at the edges. The tension between you wasn’t just palpable; it was suffocating. You could almost hear the moment it all started to slip from her grasp, the walls she built slowly crumbling under the weight of what you both refused to say.

You took one more step, now standing right in front of her, close enough that you could feel the heat of her body. Slowly, you raised your hand, letting your fingers brush her chin, tilting her head up slightly. Natasha’s breath stuttered at the contact, her eyes fluttering shut for just a moment as she leaned into the touch.

“We shouldn’t…” she started, her voice barely a whisper, but the protest sounded weak, almost as if she was trying to convince herself rather than you.

“Tell me to stop,” you murmured, your thumb brushing across her bottom lip, testing the limits of her restraint. “If that’s really what you want.”

She didn’t answer, her lips parting as if to respond, but before you could register what was happening, Natasha took a step back.

Your heart dropped into your stomach. The abrupt movement left you standing there, frozen, watching as she distanced herself from you, her gaze flickering towards the door. For a split second, dread hit you like a shockwave, the weight of misunderstanding settling like a boulder in your chest. Had you pushed too far? Misread everything?

Panic surged through you, wild and untethered. The idea of losing her—Natasha—before you even had the chance to really feel her, to care for her, to love her sent a crushing ache through your chest. You felt the bottom drop out from beneath you, the gravity between you threatening to tear the moment apart. Already, your heart was breaking at the thought.

“I—” you began, voice unsteady, but she was already moving. Her back was to you, and the sound of the door clicking shut was loud in the suddenly suffocating room. Then, a heavier sound followed—the door locking.

When she turned back around, the hesitation was gone. Natasha crossed the space between you with slow, deliberate steps, her eyes fixed on yours. The intensity in her gaze made your breath catch again, but this time for a different reason entirely.

Without a word, Natasha’s hands came up to cradle your face, her fingers curling gently but firmly along your jaw. Her touch was warm, steady, grounding you, and it sent a ripple of relief through you so strong it almost left you breathless.

“Now you know how I felt when you did the exact same thing,” she whispered, her voice soft, but the amusement in it unmistakable.

The smile that tugged at your lips was involuntary, but it was there nonetheless, breaking through the storm of emotion you had been drowning in. Natasha’s lips quirked up too, her thumb brushing over your cheekbone as she leaned in. The atmosphere shifted again—less tense, but still thick with unspoken want.

She tilted her head and pulled you into her. The kiss was slow at first, almost tentative, as if she was savouring every second of it. Her lips fit against yours like two celestial bodies coming into alignment, each touch sending sparks through you, igniting something deep in your chest. You could feel her, soft but determined, as if she had been waiting for this moment just as much as you had.

The air around you felt electric, the pull between you undeniable. It was like gravity—impossible to fight, binding you both in a force neither of you could resist. Natasha's lips parted slightly as the kiss deepened, her fingers tightening around your jaw as her body pressed against yours, the space between you collapsing entirely.

It felt like the universe itself had shifted, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The room, the locked door, the rules, all dissolved into nothing. It was just you and Natasha, caught in this perfect, inevitable collision. The weight of reality slipped from your shoulders, leaving behind only the two of you—two strangers in a bar who had been destined to meet, destined to cross paths in ways you couldn’t have predicted. 

Destined to be.

Her mouth was warm, her breath soft and shaky as it mingled with yours, and you couldn’t help but revel in the taste of her. She tasted like infinity, like the moment right before the stars explode into life.

When she finally pulled back, her lips were swollen, her green eyes wide and filled with something raw and vulnerable. She looked at you like you were the only thing in the room, like every molecule of her being was drawn to you, unable to resist.

"You could’ve told me," you murmured, still slightly breathless, a smile curling at the corners of your lips.

Natasha’s hand remained cradling your face, her thumb stroking lightly over your skin. "And miss seeing the look on your face?" she replied, a quiet laugh escaping her lips. But her eyes, despite the teasing tone, were filled with a soft intensity that made your heart swell.

Her other hand came to rest on your chest, right over your heart. "You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, the vulnerability in it palpable. "How long I’ve thought about it."

Your breath caught in your throat at her words, and before you could respond, Natasha’s lips were on yours again, more insistent this time. The kiss was rougher, more desperate, her need bleeding into the way her body moved against yours. You could feel her pulse quickening, matching the wild rhythm of your own heart.

Her hands slid down to grip your hips, pulling you closer until there was nothing left between you but blossoming love. The universe outside may have been vast and cold, but here, in this moment, all the stars burned just for the two of you.

The heat between you was palpable, an unspoken gravity pulling you toward each other, and you let it take you. There was no need to resist. Not now. Not when she felt so close, so real, as if every point in space had led to this singular, inevitable moment.

Her lips trailed down the curve of your jaw, sending shivers through you, as her hands slipped under your shirt, the cool air hitting your skin for just a moment before her warmth replaced it.

With a slow, deliberate motion, your hand traced down her side, coming to rest on the hem of her black dress. You didn’t rush, savouring the sensation of her skin beneath your fingertips, the way her breath hitched when you tugged her dress up, revealing the soft red lace of her underwear.

Your fingers grazed her thighs, and Natasha shivered at the touch, her breath coming quicker. Her hands were on your neck now, but her grip tightened as your fingers found the edge of her panties, tugging them gently to the side. The sight of her, so open and vulnerable in front of you, sent a surge of warmth through your chest.

You glanced up at her, silently asking for permission, and she gave a small nod, biting her lip as she leaned back slightly on her hands, her legs parting just a little more.

Lowering yourself to your knees, you settled between her legs, your hands resting on her thighs as you pressed a soft kiss just above her knee. You could feel Natasha’s breath falter as you kissed your way up her leg, your lips leaving a trail of warmth against her skin. The closer you got to her core, the more her body responded—her chest rising and falling, her lips slightly parted, and her hands gripping the edge of the desk as if she needed something to anchor her.

When your lips finally reached her centre, you didn’t rush. You kissed her softly at first, savouring the taste of her, keeping her panties pushed to the side. Natasha let out a quiet gasp, her body tensing for a moment before relaxing under your touch. The warmth of her against your lips was intoxicating, and you felt the gentle tremble of her thighs as you began to explore her with slow, deliberate movements.

You took your time, tracing your tongue along the delicate folds of her, each flick and swirl eliciting a soft whimper from her lips. Her fingers tangled in your hair, urging you closer as if she wanted to pull you into her very being. You could feel her heartbeat quickening, the way her breath hitched as you lavished attention on her most sensitive spots.

You could feel how much she wanted this, how much she needed it. Her breathing became shallow, her body arching slightly toward you as you continued your slow, rhythmic motions. Every time your tongue flicked against her, her hips lifted just a little, as if chasing the feeling, as if trying to get closer to the pleasure she had denied herself for so long.

The classroom was filled with the sound of her quiet gasps and the soft, wet sounds of your mouth moving against her. Your hands gripped her thighs, holding her steady as she lost herself to the sensation, her body trembling with each flick of your tongue.

Natasha's head tipped back, her mouth falling open as the pleasure built inside her. You could feel her body tightening, her thighs trembling against your cheeks as she got closer to the edge. There was something so raw, so incredibly real about seeing her like this again—vulnerable, open, completely consumed by the moment.

You quickened your pace, your tongue swirling in a way that made Natasha’s hips jerk upward, a louder moan slipping from her lips. She was close now, her breaths coming in short, desperate bursts. Her hands found the back of your head, her fingers threading through your hair, holding you in place as she rode the waves of pleasure.

Her body tensed, and for a brief moment, everything seemed to stop—the air between you still, her breath caught in her throat. And then, with a shuddering gasp, Natasha fell apart above you, her body convulsing as the orgasm washed over her in waves. Her legs tightened around your head, her hips bucking as she rode out the pleasure, her hands gripping your hair so tightly it almost hurt.

You didn’t stop, not until you had wrung every last bit of pleasure from her, not until Natasha collapsed back onto the desk, her chest heaving, her body trembling from the aftershocks. You slowly pulled away, pressing a final soft kiss to her inner thigh before standing, wiping your mouth as you looked at her.

She was a vision—her hair dishevelled, her skin flushed, and her eyes glassy with the aftermath of her release. And yet, even in her most vulnerable moment, she looked at you with such intensity, such unspoken emotion, that it took your breath away.

Still catching her breath, Natasha reached for you, pulling herself up toward you. You could see the hunger in her eyes, the unspoken need for more. And without a word, she slid off the desk and onto her knees in front of you, her hands making quick work of your belt as her eyes never left yours.

Natasha’s hands moved with a newfound urgency, trembling slightly as she worked the buckle of your belt. Her breath was still ragged, her cheeks flushed from the intensity of her orgasm, but there was no hesitation in her movements—just raw need. As soon as she freed you, her eyes flickered up to meet yours, a fire igniting behind them that sent a shiver down your spine.

Her lips parted, soft and full, as she leaned forward, brushing them against the tip of your length in a delicate, almost reverent kiss. The gentleness of it was a sharp contrast to the storm of emotions swirling between you. You could feel the warmth of her breath ghosting over your skin, and it made every inch of your body hum with anticipation.

Without breaking eye contact, Natasha opened her mouth wider, her tongue flicking out to taste you, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity straight through you. She started slow, her lips wrapping around you with a softness that had your knees nearly buckling. Her tongue worked gently, teasing the sensitive skin as she took you deeper into her mouth, inch by inch. The wet heat of her mouth surrounded you, and the quiet sound of her sucking softly filled the air.

You let out a quiet groan, your hands instinctively finding purchase in her hair, gripping gently as Natasha began to move her head, establishing a rhythm that was both slow and deliberate. Each bob of her head sent a surge of pleasure through you, and you could feel the tightness in your chest building, the way your body responded to the way she worked her mouth over you.

Natasha’s hands gripped your thighs, holding you steady as she continued, her lips gliding over you with memorised precision. She hollowed her cheeks, the suction pulling you deeper, and every time she pulled back, her tongue swirled around the head in a way that made you gasp, the pressure mounting in your core.

But she wasn’t content with keeping it soft for long.

Her hands slid to the base of your shaft, gripping you with just the right amount of pressure as she took you deeper. The first time she tried to swallow you whole, she gagged slightly, her throat constricting around you. The lewd, wet sound that followed made your head spin. But instead of pulling away, Natasha pushed herself further, determined to take all of you.

You could feel her struggling for control, her throat spasming around you as she worked to accommodate your size. The sensation was overwhelming—her warm, tight throat constricting as she swallowed around you, her lips stretched tight around your length. The sounds she made were filthy, the wet slurp of her mouth working over you mingling with her occasional gagging, and each one sent a jolt of pleasure straight through your body.

The more she struggled, the harder you felt yourself throbbing in her mouth. Natasha was relentless now, her pace quickening as she took you deeper with every pass. You could feel the tip of your cock brushing the back of her throat, the wet gagging sounds becoming more frequent as she pushed herself further, determined to take all of you, no matter the effort it took.

You groaned deeply, your grip on her hair tightening as your hips started to move on their own, thrusting into her mouth in time with her motions. Natasha didn’t pull back. If anything, she welcomed it, her hands gripping your thighs harder as she let you guide her, her eyes fluttering closed as she focused on the pleasure she was giving you.

It wasn’t long before you felt the telltale signs of your climax building—the tight coil in your core, the way your muscles tensed with each thrust into her eager mouth. Natasha must have felt it too, because she moaned around you, the vibration sending you spiralling closer to the edge.

"Natasha—" you gasped, trying to warn her, but she didn’t stop. If anything, she only became more determined, her pace quickening, her mouth working harder as she sucked you off with reckless abandon. Her throat constricted around you again, the lewd, obscene sounds she made echoing in your ears as your climax loomed just seconds away.

You felt the first wave hit you hard, your body tensing as your release surged through you. Natasha moaned as you came, her mouth still wrapped tightly around you as she swallowed greedily, not missing a single drop. The sensation of her throat working to swallow everything only heightened the intensity of your orgasm, and your hips bucked against her mouth as you rode out the waves of pleasure.

She didn’t pull away until you were spent, her lips and tongue still gently teasing you as she coaxed every last bit from you, ensuring there wasn’t a trace left. When she finally pulled back, her lips glistened with saliva, and her cheeks were flushed. She looked up at you with a satisfied gleam in her eyes, licking her lips as if savouring the taste of you.

For a moment, all you could do was stand there, chest heaving, completely undone by the sight of her on her knees, her breath heavy and uneven as she gazed up at you, her lips still swollen from the effort. The look she gave you was nothing short of triumphant, like she had conquered something within herself, and the sight made your heart race all over again.

Natasha rose from her knees, her body still trembling with the aftermath of the intensity between you. Her lips parted as she stood before you, her breath coming in soft, uneven gasps. You could see the raw emotion in her eyes—desire, need, something deeper that neither of you could yet name. Her hands reached for you, delicate fingers brushing against your jaw as she leaned in, pressing her forehead gently against yours.

For a moment, everything was quiet. The world outside faded to a dull hum, and all that remained was the warmth of Natasha’s body so close to yours, the lingering taste of her still on your lips. Her breath mingled with yours as she hovered just a breath away, her eyes searching your face like she was trying to memorise every detail. Then, with a soft sigh, she closed the distance, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss so gentle it almost brought tears to your eyes.

It was soft at first—tender, vulnerable, as if she was offering a part of herself that she had kept secluded for too long. You could feel the warmth of her lips, the way they trembled slightly against yours, like she was scared to give in completely but couldn’t hold back anymore. Her hands cupped your face, her fingers threading into your hair as she deepened the kiss, her need growing more insistent.

The softness of her lips pressed against yours sent waves of heat through you, but it wasn’t just desire—it was something more profound. You could feel the emotion behind every touch, the vulnerability in the way her lips moved against yours, as if she was pouring every unsaid word, every hidden feeling, into that kiss. It was a surrender, a trust that left your heart racing and your hands instinctively wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space between you.

Natasha melted into you, her body pressing into yours as the kiss deepened. Her breath hitched as your hands slid up her back, your fingers tracing the curve of her spine, drawing her even closer. Her lips parted, and she let out a soft, needy moan that sent a shiver down your spine. The tenderness between you was starting to unravel, replaced by something more desperate, more consuming.

The kiss grew rougher, more urgent, and Natasha seemed to lose herself in it. Her hands gripped your shoulders for balance as her body pressed hard against yours. You could feel the way her chest heaved against you, her pulse quickening as her need overtook her. The softness of the moment shattered into something raw, and Natasha almost fell into you, pushing you backward until the chair behind you caught you off guard.

You fell back into the chair, the force of her body against yours making your breath catch. Natasha hovered above you for a heartbeat, her eyes dark with lust, her lips swollen and wet from both the kiss and your release. Her hands moved quickly, efficiently, as she straddled your lap, one leg on either side of you, her thighs pressing against your hips. She was wild now, driven by pure need, and you could feel it in every hurried movement, every rough kiss she pressed to your mouth.

With a low, needy moan, Natasha reached down, her fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties. She didn’t waste any time—didn’t hesitate—before taking them off quickly, exposing herself to you. The sight of her, ready, desperate, and completely bare, had your heart pounding in your chest. The slick heat of her pressed against you, the warmth of her thighs enveloping your hips as she positioned herself above you, sent a jolt of electricity straight through your core.

You could feel her trembling against you, her body so close, so needy, as she slowly moved over your shaft. Her wetness coated you as she aligned herself, the tip of your length brushing against her entrance, and you both let out a sharp gasp at the contact. Natasha’s hands clutched at your shoulders, nails digging into your skin as she bit her lip, her eyes fluttering shut for just a moment as she adjusted to the sensation.

The heat between your bodies was overwhelming, the tension thick in the air as Natasha lowered herself onto you. Inch by inch, she took you, the tight heat of her enveloping you as she slid down, her thighs pressing tighter against your hips. The sensation of her, so warm and wet and ready for you, had your breath stuttering in your throat. You could feel every tremor of her body, every shaky exhale she let out as she took all of you.

Natasha paused when you were fully seated inside her, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps as she adjusted to the fullness of you. Her hands moved from your shoulders to your face, cupping your cheeks as she leaned in, pressing her forehead against yours again. Her eyes were half-lidded, dark with desire, but there was still that hint of vulnerability, that moment of quiet between the storm as she let herself feel everything.

The connection between you was palpable, electric, as Natasha began to move. Slowly at first, her hips rolled in gentle, deliberate motions, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through both of you. You could feel the heat of her skin against yours, the slick slide of her body as she rode you, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. Her breath was ragged, her moans quiet but full of need as she moved against you, her thighs tightening around your hips with every motion.

Your hands found her waist, guiding her as she moved, feeling the way her body responded to you with every thrust. The heat between you grew unbearable, the way she moved—slow at first, savouring every inch of you—driving you both mad with need. Each roll of her hips sent you deeper inside her, and you could feel the tight clench of her body around you, pulling you deeper with each movement.

But it wasn’t enough for her. Natasha’s need overtook her, and her pace quickened, her hips slamming down harder, rougher, as she lost herself in the pleasure. Her moans grew louder, her breath hitching every time you filled her. The lewd, wet sounds of her body moving against yours filled the air, mingling with the sharp gasps and moans that escaped her lips.

She was wild now, her movements frantic as she chased her release, her fingers gripping your shoulders so tightly you were sure they’d leave marks. But you didn’t care. All you could focus on was the overwhelming sensation of her, the way she moved against you, the heat and tightness of her surrounding you as she rode you harder, faster.

You could feel the tension building again, the coil of pleasure tightening in your core as Natasha moved against you, her moans growing louder, more desperate with every second. You could feel her body trembling, the way her thighs quivered as she rode you, her need for release overtaking everything else.

Natasha’s pace quickened, the rhythm of her hips growing more urgent, her body seeking yours with a desperate need that matched your own. The way she moved, the way her body clenched around you—it was raw, electric, and yet there was still an underlying softness to her, a vulnerability that made the moment even more intense.

Her moans filled the air, breathless and ragged, each one sending waves of heat straight to your core. You could feel her hands gripping your shoulders tighter, her nails digging into your skin as she rode you harder, faster, her need consuming her. Her thighs pressed tight against your sides, her body moving with an almost instinctual hunger, and yet each roll of her hips was accompanied by a shuddering breath, a whisper of something deeper than just lust.

Your hands slid down to her hips, gripping her tightly as you guided her movements, feeling the slick heat of her skin under your palms. The connection between you was electric, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through every nerve in your body. Each thrust brought her closer, her body trembling against you as she pushed herself closer to the edge.

The sound of her—the obscene, wet sounds of her body moving against yours, the breathless moans that escaped her lips—drove you wild. Every gasp, every tremor of her body, pulled you deeper into her, and you could feel the tension building in your own body, the tight coil of pleasure winding tighter with every thrust.

Natasha’s head tilted back, her eyes fluttering shut as her lips parted in a silent cry of pleasure. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her body shivering against yours as she rode the waves of sensation, her movements growing more frantic. You could feel the way her body tightened around you, the way she clenched with every thrust, pulling you deeper, harder.

You leaned up, capturing her lips in a searing kiss, swallowing her moans as your hands slid up her back, pulling her flush against you. Natasha responded with a desperate, needy whine, her body arching into yours as she gave in completely to the moment. Her fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as she kissed you like she couldn’t get enough, her lips moving with a hunger that mirrored the wild rhythm of her hips.

The room was thick with the sounds of your bodies moving together, the wet slide of her against you, the ragged breaths and moans filling the air as the tension between you built to a fever pitch. You could feel her trembling, the way her body shuddered with every thrust, her nails digging into your skin as she lost herself in the pleasure.

But it still wasn’t enough.

With a growl of frustration, Natasha broke the kiss, her breath coming in harsh gasps as she pulled back, her eyes wild with need. Her hands gripped your shoulders, her body shaking with the force of her desire, and before you could react, she pushed herself off of you, standing on trembling legs as she backed away.

Her chest heaved with every breath, her lips swollen from your kiss, her eyes dark with lust as she stared at you, her body glistening with sweat. She didn’t say a word, didn’t need to—her intentions were clear in the way she moved, the way her hands reached out for you.

You barely had time to register her next movement before she was on you again, grabbing you by the wrist and yanking you up from the chair. The force of it sent you stumbling, but Natasha was relentless, her fingers gripping your arm with surprising strength as she pulled you toward the nearest wall. Her back slammed against it with a rough thud, but she didn’t seem to care. She was too far gone, too consumed by the raw, animalistic need that had overtaken her.

Her hands were on you again, pulling you closer, her body arching into yours as she pressed her hips against you, grinding in desperate, wild movements. The friction between your bodies sent jolts of pleasure through you, and you could feel the heat of her, slick and ready, as she ground herself against you.

"More," she gasped, her voice raw, barely more than a whisper as her lips brushed against your ear. "I want more."

Her demand was primal, almost a growl, and it sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You didn’t hesitate. Your hands were on her in an instant, rough and demanding as you grabbed her hips, lifting her with ease and pinning her to the wall. Natasha let out a sharp gasp, her legs wrapping around your waist as she clung to you, her nails raking down your back as she bucked against you, desperate for the release you both craved.

The world outside faded into nothing as you slammed into her, hard and fast, your hips driving into her with a force that sent her head tilting back against the wall. The sounds that tore from her throat were obscene—loud, lewd moans that echoed in the room, mingling with the wet slap of skin against skin as you fucked her with a raw, primal intensity.

Natasha’s body arched off the wall, her chest pressing against yours as she moaned your name, her voice breaking with every thrust. She was wild, lost in the moment, her legs tightening around your waist as she rocked against you, meeting every thrust with an equal fervour. The feel of her, so tight and hot around you, was almost overwhelming, and it took everything in you to keep your pace steady, rough, giving her everything she wanted—everything she needed.

Her hands found your face, her fingers tangling in your hair as she pulled you into a bruising kiss, her lips moving desperately against yours. Her tongue slid against yours, hungry, needy, as if she couldn’t get enough of you. Every kiss was like fire, every touch igniting something deep within you.

Your bodies moved in perfect sync, a wild, chaotic rhythm that sent you both hurtling toward the edge. Natasha’s breath came in sharp gasps, her moans filling the air as her body tightened around you, her thighs trembling as she clung to you, her nails biting into your shoulders. You could feel her close, so close, and the thought of her unravelling in your arms only spurred you on, pushing harder, faster, until neither of you could take it anymore.

Natasha cried out, her head falling back against the wall as her body shuddered around you, her release hitting her like a tidal wave. The tight, slick heat of her pulsed around you, pulling you under as you followed her over the edge, your own release tearing through you with an intensity that left you breathless.

With a final thrust, you felt yourself spilling into Natasha, the sensation of warmth flooding her as you lost yourself in the pleasure of release. The world around you blurred, eclipsed by the intensity of the moment—her body pulsing around you, squeezing you tight as she milked every drop from you, her own breathless gasps mingling with yours.

Natasha’s eyes fluttered shut, her head tilting back against the wall as she surrendered to the overwhelming sensation. The heat of you filling her was unlike anything she’d felt before—a hot wave crashing over her as pleasure washed through her, leaving her breathless. She could feel every drop, the warmth spreading inside her, a tingling aftershock that made her pulse quicken even further. “God, yes,” she whispered, lost in the moment, her voice thick with desire and something deeper—something that had been brewing between you for so long.

Your own sensations were intoxicating, the feel of her surrounding you, the way her body reacted to every movement, every pulse of pleasure. You could hardly contain yourself, the mixture of euphoria and satisfaction consuming you as you revelled in the intimate connection you shared. There was something breathtaking about finishing inside her, about the trust, the intimacy, and the undeniable bond that felt more tangible than ever before.

As the waves of pleasure began to ebb, you cradled Natasha in your arms, her body trembling slightly as you pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. The intimacy of the moment lingered between you, and you both took a moment to breathe, hearts racing in sync. But soon, the practicality of the classroom flooded back in, and you gently guided Natasha back to the desk.

With a quick motion, you pushed aside her papers and markers, sending them tumbling to the floor with a soft thud. The suddenness of it all made Natasha scowl at you, though her eyes still held a spark of ecstasy. “Those were my actual papers, you know. Students’ exams, assignments,” she said, her voice mockingly stern but the flush in her cheeks betraying her arousal.

You shrugged, a playful smirk creeping onto your lips. “I promise I’ll clean up for you later.” Then, without hesitation, you slowly ground yourself into her, drawing a low, needy moan from her lips.

Her expression shifted, that scowl faltering as pleasure flickered in her eyes, but she quickly regained her composure, some of her confidence returning. She shook her head, grabbing you by your tie with a firm grip. “Clean up now.”

“Alright, alright!” you laughed, pulling out of her with a reluctant groan, the sensation of leaving her tight warmth making your body ache for her again. You hurriedly gathered the scattered papers and markers, your heart racing not just from the lingering pleasure, but from the silly urgency of the moment.

Once everything was piled neatly on the other side of her desk, you turned back to find Natasha waiting for you, her legs spread wide and her gaze sultry, yet commanding. There was a newfound softness to her submission, a flicker of vulnerability beneath that confident exterior.

“Look at what you’ve done,” she teased, her voice low and laced with satisfaction. She shifted slightly, showcasing the aftermath of your union—a glistening creampie that had pooled at her entrance. The sight sent a rush of heat straight to your core, desire rekindling in an instant.

The sight of her, flushed and beautiful, a mixture of confidence and submission, made your breath hitch. You took a step closer, captivated by her, by the warmth of the moment and the spark of something new blooming between you. The playful tension hung thick in the air, a sweet promise of what was to come.

You couldn’t help but be captivated by the sight of Natasha sprawled out before you, her body a beautiful mess of satisfaction and desire. With a mix of awe and urgency, you knelt down and gently lifted her legs, holding them up to give yourself a better view. The sight of your shared release oozing from her made your breath catch—an intoxicating mix of both of you, a physical testament to what you had just shared.

It kept coming, slow and steady, and you felt a surge of possessiveness wash over you. Mesmerised, you simply looked, taking in every detail—the way her slickness glistened against her soft skin, the way her breathing still quivered with remnants of pleasure. Natasha chuckled gently, her eyes sparkling as she took in your reaction, the rough moments from before fading into a sweet memory. “Come here, Дорога́я [Darling],” she murmured, caressing your cheek with her delicate fingers.

Before you could fully respond, she pulled you back in with a gentle tug on your tie, a smirk playing at her lips. The heat of her touch made your cheeks flush deeper, and you made a mental note to wear a tie more often, just for her. As her legs shifted, wrapping around your waist, the connection between you deepened, the weight of her body pressing against you in the most inviting way.

You gently pushed back inside her, entering her again with a deliberate slowness that drew a soft sigh from her lips. The warmth enveloped you, a beautiful contrast to the cool air of the room, and you could feel the shared release mixing with the sensation of her body welcoming you back in. It felt like coming home. The trust between you was palpable, an unspoken agreement that only strengthened the shared bond.

Natasha’s gaze locked onto yours, and in that moment, you could see the love blooming beneath the layers of your physical connection. There was a softness in her eyes, an openness that melted the remnants of your earlier roughness. You felt possessive, yet tender, wanting to cherish this moment, to worship her as she surrendered beneath you. Each thrust was deliberate, coaxing soft whimpers from her lips, and the way she arched into you only fueled your desire to give her everything.

“Look at you,” you breathed, your voice thick with emotion as you watched her face, her expression a mix of vulnerability and trust. She smiled back, a small, knowing grin that sent a thrill down your spine. In her gaze, you saw a world of possibilities, a future that began right here, right now. And you couldn't wait to explore it with her.

With each movement, you found yourself lost in her, in the way she surrendered, in the way she filled your heart with warmth. The trust was unbreakable, and as you held her close, cradling her like the treasure she was, you knew you’d do anything to keep her safe—body and soul.

You couldn’t get enough of Natasha—her warmth, her softness, the way she surrendered to you completely. As you pound into her, the desk creaked beneath you, a quiet reminder of the chaos you had just created. Your body hovered over hers, and you allowed yourself to drink in the sight of her in this exact moment—hair splayed across the desk, cheeks flushed, and those captivating eyes shimmering with a mixture of desire and trust.

With a tender touch, you lowered yourself to her, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both soft and passionate. It felt like an unspoken promise, a reminder of the connection that bound you two together. Natasha melted beneath you, her fingers tangling in your hair as she pulled you closer, deepening the kiss with a fervour that ignited your own desire.

The world around you seemed to fade once again, leaving only the two of you in this intimate bubble, but as the kiss deepened, a fire ignited within you. You began to move faster, harder against her, your body fitting against hers in the most delicious way, feeling every inch of her against you. The warmth of her skin beneath your fingertips sent shivers down your spine, a stark contrast to the cool wood of the desk beneath her.

You settled into a rhythm, wanting to savour the moment, the way she responded to you. Her breath hitched, a soft moan escaping her lips as you hit that perfect spot, drawing forth more of those loving, yet utterly pornographic sounds that filled the room.

“Just like that,” she breathed, her voice thick with pleasure. “Please, don’t stop.”

Her encouragement was like a spark, igniting something primal within you. You pushed deeper, your pace quickening as the need to feel her completely enveloped you. As you pressed into her, you could feel her pulling you closer by your tie, the connection between you becoming more electrifying with each tug.

But as the intensity built, so did the chaos of the moment. Your movements became slightly rougher, the desk creaking more beneath the force of your passion, and you felt the neatly stacked papers you had just organised go flying in a flurry, scattering across the floor like fallen leaves. A soft gasp escaped Natasha as she looked at the mess, her expression a mixture of amusement and desire.

“Oops,” you murmured, a grin breaking across your face as you continued your relentless pace, not willing to let the interruption slow you down. The laughter that bubbled up from Natasha turned into a series of moans as she found her rhythm with you again, her pleasure rising higher.

“Don’t you dare stop,” she gasped, her legs wrapping tighter around your waist, urging you deeper.

You couldn’t help but comply, your desire morphing into something more intense, more commanding. You felt powerful, her submission only fueling your fire, and as you took charge, you could see her surrendering completely.

“Tell me how it feels,” you demanded softly, your breath ghosting over her ear, and you felt her shudder beneath you.

“More,” she moaned, shaking her head, her voice thick with need. “I need more.”

That simple command ignited your desire further. You focused your thrusts, pulling back just enough to thrust back in harder, the sound of your bodies meeting filling the air. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through both of you, and as her moans grew louder, you felt her body tightening around you, drawing you in deeper.

With every thrust, you pushed her closer to the edge, feeling her body respond so eagerly to yours, the world outside fading into nothingness. The connection between you was raw, electric, and as Natasha’s fingers tightened in your hair, you felt a rush of pride wash over you. She could be yours—this beautiful woman beneath you, completely yours to love and cherish.

With every thrust, the tension coiled tighter and tighter in your core, a delicious pressure building that threatened to overwhelm you. You could feel the heat radiating between your bodies, the raw intimacy wrapping around you both like a warm blanket. Natasha's body responded eagerly, urging you on with every moan and whimper, her legs still tightly wrapped around your waist as if she never wanted to let you go.

“Please,” she gasped, her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that left you breathless. “Inside. W’na feel you, please.”

Those words sent a bolt of electricity through you, pushing you closer to the edge. The way she begged for you only heightened your desire, your body moving in a desperate rhythm, driven by an instinctual need to fill her. The universe stood still as you surrendered to the moment, pouring every ounce of yourself into her.

As you felt the wave building, your heart raced in tandem with your body, anticipation igniting every nerve ending. “Natasha…” you gasped, feeling the overwhelming pull of pleasure.

“Да [Yes], yes! Please!” she urged, her voice a desperate whisper as the connection between you ignited. 

With a final, deep thrust, you felt the wave crash over you—an overwhelming rush of pleasure that sent you spiralling into ecstasy. You released inside her, warmth flooding both your bodies as the sheer amount of your orgasm spilled into her. It felt electric, each pulse of your release sending shockwaves through Natasha’s body. 

Her moans turned into gasps, the sound rising from deep within her, a symphony of pleasure that reverberated against your chest. The sensation was overwhelming—her walls clenching around you, tighter and tighter, as if trying to draw every last drop deeper inside her. “Oh m– s’too much!” Natasha gasped, her breath hitching as her eyes widened, a mix of pleasure and surprise washing over her features. “Cлишком много, пожалуйста, слишком много, ещё— [Too much, please, too much, more]” The urgency in her voice sent a thrill through you, igniting a possessive fire as you felt her body shudder in response to your release. The warmth of your orgasm mixed with the slickness of her arousal created a heady sensation, drawing you closer together, deeper into this moment of blissful intimacy. You could feel her heartbeat, wild and frantic, echoing in time with yours, as her body quivered beneath you, a perfect melding of desire and urgency.

The kiss that followed was frantic, filled with the taste of each other’s desperation, but in the frenzy, you didn’t notice as a final spurt escaped, landing directly on her dress.

As the intensity faded, reality rushed back. You pulled away slightly, breathless and flushed, and that’s when you noticed the mess you’d made. Natasha’s laughter filled the air, bright and melodic, breaking the tension of the moment. “You’ve really done it this time,” she teased, the playful scowl back on her lips, even as her body betrayed her with soft, lingering shivers and twitches of pleasure. “Those were my students’ papers, you know! One of those is yours!”

You chuckled sheepishly, a small hint of embarrassment creeping in as you glanced at the scattered papers across the floor, remnants of your earlier chaos. “It was calculated,” you said, trying to sound earnest as you began to gather the papers back into a pile.

But just as you focused on tidying up, Natasha gasped, her eyes wide as she looked down at her dress, spotting the evidence of your earlier mistake. “Oh my god,” she said, shock mingling with delight. “You did NOT just—”

You couldn’t help but grin, your cheeks warming as the reality of your clumsiness hit you. “I didn’t mean to—”

Her gaze softened, and that familiar spark lit up her eyes again. “You’re lucky I’m so turned on right now,” she quipped, her lips curling into a playful smile. “But you might have to make it up to me.”

Once the papers were neatly stacked, you turned back to her, noticing her legs still slightly parted, a lingering invitation. But her gaze was focused on you, amusement dancing in her eyes, and you couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking.

“I can’t believe I’m falling for my clumsy student I met in a bar,” she said aloud, shaking her head in disbelief, even as a smile crept onto her lips. “They’re incredible at this—and at maths and physics—but my god, she’s such a mess.”

And in that moment, you felt a warmth swell in your chest, knowing that amidst the chaos, something beautiful was blooming between you both.

–

The soft hum of the engine filled the space between you, and as you glanced over at Natasha, you noticed the way her gaze lingered on you—like you were the entire universe contained within her eyes, the very centre of her galaxy. It made your heart swell with warmth and a sense of intimacy that felt brand new.

“So, what do you call this?” you asked, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “I mean, since I’m not really your pet.” You furrowed your brow, feigning deep contemplation. “Teacher’s pet seems a bit off…”

Natasha couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head at your antics, her laughter bubbling up like sunlight piercing through clouds. “You’re a special case, you know that?” she replied, her eyes sparkling with delight. The confidence you wore so easily now intertwined beautifully with a vulnerability that both of you had shed in that classroom, revealing the deeper parts of your personalities that you’d kept hidden.

“So, are you a student’s pet, then?” you shot back, a teasing grin spreading across your face.

That made Natasha snort, a sound that was both unexpected and delightful. You couldn’t help but join in her laughter, the sound echoing through the car as you interlaced your fingers, feeling that shared warmth enveloping you both.

–

Once you were nestled together in her bed, the world outside faded into insignificance. The room felt like its own universe, wrapped in the glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains. Your head rested on Natasha’s chest, her steady heartbeat beneath your ear like a soothing rhythm that kept you grounded. Your fingers traced the soft strands of her hair, twirling them gently, while her fingers danced across your back, tracing patterns that felt like constellations only the two of you could understand.

In the quiet, you could feel the depth of your connection, the vulnerability between you. After a moment, you looked up at her, heart fluttering with the memory of her earlier words. “You know,” you whispered, your voice soft and filled with affection, “your Russian was really attractive.”

Natasha chuckled, her fingers still tracing stars on your skin, her eyes filled with a warmth that seemed to encompass you entirely. She leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Is that so?” she murmured, her tone playful but tender, her affection unmistakable as she continued to hold you close. Natasha's smile widened, a faint blush creeping across her cheeks as she looked at you with an expression that held both playfulness and sincerity, but mostly love.

[spencerrreiddd]

Three, Two, One. - Chapter 1

Summary: You and Spencer have worked in the BAU together for years, since the beginning but now, he's your boss and something quite big is happening in your life & soon to be Spencer's life after needing each others help to unwind.

Pairing: UnitChief!Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

WC: 3.3k

Warnings: Pregnancy, Angst, Cheating??

A/N: LOW & BEHOLD- here lays my first beauty. - my apologies is this is complete shit, I have not written in a while & I may have to get my special touch back. - anyways, i hope you guys like it ! 🔪🤍

Three, Two, One. Chaper 2.

three, two, one-

pregnant.

You were pregnant. You were pregnant with your bosses baby.

Spencer has not always been your boss, you actually started working for the BAU a month before he had even started working there.

He took over Emily's position once she moved up to FBI Director a few months back, at that congratulations party is when something sparked between you and Spencer- just, neither of you acted on it

You remember exactly how and when it happened too, it was the party after his promotion to Unit Chief. Goddamn promotion parties. You didn’t think you drank that much, until you woke up naked beside your new boss.

The temptation to pack a bag and hop on a flight across the world sounded so appetizing right now in your mind, too bad that it isn't realistic & you were going to have to face the facts and that was including, him.

There was never any “no speaking of this” - only us meeting up at my apartment, his apartment, our hotel rooms when we were on a case and needed to ‘unwind’ - the last time you and Spence had even slept together was 2-3 weeks ago anyway, of course when y'all needed to unwind after a case. Who could've guessed that one?

You were snatched from your thoughts when you heard your phone ringing from your bedroom- running for it, you were hoping that it wasn't Spencer.

‘Penelope Garcia 🖥️💖🍩’ 'thank the heavens' you silently think to yourself

“What’s up, Penny”

“Spencer is busy, he put me on duty to call you to find out if you plan to show your face at work today, ya know- since it is a work day and no show, no calls are frowned upon here" Your neck snaps to look at your alarm clock.

"Also, he wants to see you in his office once you get here"

7:32 A.M - have I seriously been staring at a positive pregnancy test for an entire hour?

“Fuck. See you soon. I'm leaving right now"

The short drive to work felt longer than it should have, probably because you took back roads to avoid having to see him again so soon. If you were already running late, what is a few extra minutes?

So many thoughts flying through your mind. How are you going to tell him? Oh hey, by the way, ya knocked me up so what’s the plan bud?!

“I'm doomed" You mutter to yourself getting out of your vehicle to go face reality, to go face the man of your now growing child. This has to be a nightmare.

Getting off of the elevator, the first person you saw was Alvez- boy, you were thankful that it wasn't Spencer, even though you'd be seeing him in just a few minutes.

"Looks like you saw a ghost"

"Yeah, Luke, something like that"

"You want to talk about it?"

"Not right now, I just want to forget about it- I need to see Pen" yeah, Y/N, like you'll actually be able to forget about it.

You make a beeline directly for Penelope's office, you have to tell someone about this before you actually lose your mind.

"Pen, I have news and it has to stay between you and I only"

"Your secret is safe with me, my love"

"I'm pregnant.. with Spencer's baby" you hesitated even saying the last part but wow, that felt good to get off of your chest, too bad it won't feel this easy with Spencer. Just thinking of having to tell him has you feeling like someone is choking you out.

"Oh."

"Oh? Pen, I am in a state of panic, a state of shock and you say 'Oh'- I don't know what to even begin to do here or how to even tell Reid that I am carrying his.. spawn"

"Spencer has a girlfriend or did, as far as I kn- okay, when did you find out” She cuts herself after seeing the look of horror on your face after hearing the beginning of her sentence, understandably so!

You were NOT the type of person to sleep with a taken man.

You were confident that you were about to face plant the ground right here and now in Penelope’s office. Did Spencer have a girlfriend or not? And were you about to go physically fight him for doing this to her, if so? You would be considering yourself jobless at that point.

“I found out this morning, literal minutes before you called me to get my ass here” you were in a pure state of panic and you had many good reasons as to why.

“How long has he had a girlfriend, Pen?” you continued- you were sure your skin was blistering with how hot it was at this point. Was it hot out of anger or the panic attack that was charging at you? Who knows anymore because you didn’t care enough in this single second to sit and determine that.

"I don't know, he just mentioned a date a few weeks ago then didn't mention anything again but I know he's still in communication with her and by the contact name in his phone, I don't think they are just friends" Penelope lets you in on all of this, nervously- like she isn't supposed to be saying anything at all.

"Thanks, Pen" You murmur to her her as you leave, you have to leave her office, the longer you are in there, the more it feels like the walls are literally closing in on you.

Walking into the hallway, you don't know which direction to go- You should probably go see Spencer and give him some bullshit excuse as to why you were late.

It was barely 8 A.M, maybe it was past 8 A.M now- your mind is going too fast to try and keep up with time. Regardless, it's too early in the morning to drop a pregnancy announcement on someone.

Finally, you muster up the courage to walk into the bullpen to go on the hunt for Spencer, as much as your mind and body are telling you to just bolt to your car and never look back.

"Tara, do you know where Spencer is?" You ask quietly, so that you don't disturb the others around you

"No, I saw him walk out of his office a few minutes ago but I haven't seen him go back in. If you find him before me, let me know because I need to go over some things with him"

"I'll go knock and see if he's back, thanks Tara"

You can visibly see his blinds are closed but majority of the time they are closed anyways, so that doesn't even matter to you. Walking up the flight of stairs to get to his office is exhausting, it feels like your legs weigh 1000 pounds each.

Standing in front of his office, you hear talking inside- You can very clearly hear a females voice inside talking to him but you honestly couldn't tell if she was over the phone or actually in his office by how muffled it is, it's safe to assume that it is a phone call.

"No going back now since you're already here" You mumble to yourself

Knock, knock, knock

"Come in" You hear a muffled Spencer behind the door

As your opening the door, you quickly hear him state to the woman on the phone 'I have to go, I'll see you tonight' - God, as if you haven't already wanted to run away all morning, it keeps getting worse.

"Pen said you wanted to see me?"

"Yes, please sit" He says, gesturing to the chair

"Are you okay, Y/N? - You were late this morning, we've worked together for many years now and you've never once ran late, it's not like you not to communicate" You can see on his face that he cares, he didn't bring you in here to give you a lecture over something small, especially since this is your first time ever running late.

"Y-yes, I just woke up late and then getting to my car, I realized I had a flat, so I had to ask my neighbor to use his pump to fill it" You lied straight through your pearly white teeth and you were confident that he knew it to, just by the look he was giving you

He stares at you for a moment, trying to read you for anything. You were thankful for the fact that sometimes you were an impossible person to read

"Please, just communicate next time- It's not a big deal you were late, we just didn't know what was going on until I had Garcia get a hold of you"

"I will, you have my word- Am I good to go now?" You ask while standing up, yes, the talk went better than expected but you still wanted out of this office as fast as possible.

"Yes, thank you for coming to talk to me. Oh, also before I forget to mention it, at some point today whenever we both have free time, I would like to have a conversation. If it's just at the end of the day that's fine. It just needs to happen"

All you can bring yourself to do is nod your head and walk out of the room, based on the ass end of the phone call you walked in on- You have a pretty good hunch what he will be saying to you, especially after what Garcia also let you in on

It makes your heart ache- knowing that he could have a girlfriend, knowing this thing that the two of you had will be coming to an end, by no means were you and Spencer in a committed relationship but you would be lying to yourself, if you said you hadn't gained feelings for him and actually wanted more than just a 'fuck buddy' outcome

"So, is he up in the office? I really need to see him" Tara asks while already walking up there and away from you before you can even give her an answer.

You know for a fact that you are not going to be able to focus on work at all today even if you try your hardest, your anxiety is skyrocketing through the roof waiting for this conversation with Spencer and still, wondering when and how you are going to spill the beans about carrying his growing child.

"Alright, what is your issue? Are you pregnant?" Alvez is like a brother to you, nothing has been off limits in the talking department but this just sent you for a whole loop with how bluntly he asked.

You were confident that if it were possible, your eyes would've popped right out of their sockets and into your lap.

"Alvez, I am not discussing this with you right now" you whisper yelled to him, you didn't mean to come off like a bitch at all but god only knows who could've heard him.

"Well, Y/N, If I am being entirely honest. Penelope lets some things slip from time to time" He states like it's the most obvious thing ever.

All you can seem to do is look at him like a dear in the headlights, you feel your skin getting hot and prickly, it feels like there are someones hands around your throat squeezing harder and harder by the second.

"I have to go, I need to go home, I need air" It all comes out in a panic, you get up from your desk and bolt out of the bullpen and down the stairs, you don't even care to take the elevator. You cannot be stuck in a tight spot right now, a tight spot like an elevator.

"Please, just communicate" - "I will, you have my word" the conversation in Spencer's office goes through your mind and you know that you have to communicate with him that you just left work for the day and you don't plan to come back today, atleast- you couldn't and thankfully, it was Friday.

to: Spencer 'The Genius' Reid

'I have to excuse myself for the day, I'm sorry that I am having to send you a text message about this rather than coming to your office- this is me communicating with you. I will return back to my work duties on Monday, unless of course, a case pops up over the weekend then I will be here'

'also, I know we need to have a conversation, I also have something I need to tell you- let me know when you would like this conversation to take place' -

After sending your texts to Spencer, you set your phone on DND because at this point, you don't want to deal with anything or anyone else today, emergency or not.

Driving home was an entire blur, I mean you made it home alive, so that's what matters, I guess.

Walking inside, you plop onto the couch and turn on your favorite comfort show.. Modern Family.

A few hours later, you wake up in the exact place you laid down at- you thought your couch was so comfy until now when your entire body is in pain.. well, maybe it was your horrible sleeping position.

5:13 P.M -

"sweet baby jesus on a motorbike" You mutter to yourself after looking at the clock

"what are you doing to me?" You ask while poking your non-existent baby bump, granted it was a great sleep so you weren't trying to complain- you had heard from JJ in the past that early pregnancy is exhausting and you will sleep.. ALOT.

**BACK AT THE BAU**

"I just practically asked her if it was true but maybe in a more blunt way, it wasn't meant to come out so.. blunt" Alvez explains to Penelope who apparently watched you sprint out of work.

"I specifically told you not to say anything to her about it, I didn't even mean to let it slip to you of all people, Luke. I don't even think that they were in a relationship which makes this so much more difficult for her, as I could imagine" Pen snaps back at Luke.

"It's not going past me, I'm not opening my mouth to anyone about it" Luke says while walking to the Elevator with Pen, finally the work day was over

"Yeah, you let it slip to someone or who knows, I accidentally do again and Spencer is going to find out which right now, that doesn't need to happen" Pen states while being wildly unaware of who just came up behind them

"What doesn't Spencer need to find out right now and why can't he find out right now?" He asks from directly behind Alvez and Garcia, looking between the two of them for a answer.

Luke and Penelope both seem to jump straight out of their skin, not expecting to be crept up on- in reality, it was not Spencer's plan to creep up on them, he just happened to be leaving at the exact time as them and they didn't hear him coming up in the middle of their 'supposed to be' private conversation that was happening out in the open.

"I- uh it's nothing, well, sir, it's nothing in regards to me, i'm fine- it's not my place to tell you, it wasn't my place to tell, Luke- it just slipped and I am blabbering and I just realized that I need to get home" Before Spencer or Luke could say anything to her or anything more to Spencer, she's in the elevator with the doors closing.

'Nice Penelope, real nice' Luke thinks to himself, feeling a bit annoyed and slightly scared

Turning to look behind him, he sees Spencer's eyes boring right into him like he's staring right into Luke's soul, just waiting and searching for answers.

"Is there anything that you know, Alvez?" Spencer finally breaks the silence, otherwise who knows how long the two of them would've stayed standing there in the awkward paralyzing silence.

"I just know Y/N had to leave early today because, well I don't know why but I just know she left- you're her boss too, she should've communicated with you, right?"

"Right, Luke and she did, I have been trying to text and call her since I received her messages and nothing is going through" Reid is quick to bite back, getting quite annoyed himself being left in the dark and now that he is adding the pieces together, he's assuming these secretive things that "he isn't allowed to know about currently" are about you.

"I don't have any other information, what I told you is all I know- but I do need to get home to Roxy" Luke matter-of-factly states even though Luke knows that Luke is lying, well- not about Roxy but about the first part.

"Mhm, alright. Have a good night, Luke" Spencer gave up on trying to get any information out of the turnips that don't bleed but he is confident when he says this is about you and he will get to the bottom of it.

Back at your apartment, you've finally relaxed after a nice hot shower and ordering from your favorite chinese food joint and yes, still watching your comfort show but this time from the comfort of your own bed.

You still haven't even taken your phone off of DND mode, in your mind all you thought was 'if it is important enough, you know where I live and if you don't, contact Penelope Garcia' and the most important part, you were at peace.

You weren't worried about this pregnancy, you had accepted your fate, you weren't worried about Spencer or his new situ-relationship, you weren't even worried about what had happened with Alvez or Garcia. Peace.

"jesus Spencer, what the fuck" You yell out after walking out of the room and coming face to face with him, to say that you were startled was to say the absolute least

"Well, you would've known I was coming if someone didn't have their phone on airplane mode" He bit back with a darkness in his eyes and maybe a bit of worrisome, you couldn't tell everything with how dark it was.

"I know that I gave people a key to my house for emergencies but our conversation or how I was protecting my peace on a Friday night is not an emergency and frankly, if anyone was that worried, you would've sent someone sooner" You were once again fed up and wanted to continue to be alone with your favorite person, Phil Dunphy.

"I was going to drop our conversation until this weekend or even Monday, when we see each other in person again but funny enough, I was walking out to leave for the day when I walked into Luke's and Penelope's conversation and it was about you and something that I shouldn't be finding out about right now- would you happen to know anything about that?" Spencer replied, getting more and more fed up by the second.

If Spencer didn't know any better, he would say that you looked like you just saw a ghost- he was dead on the money about the conversation and some secret rooting back to you- now to just get it out of you.

Calming down after seeing the state you were rushing into, he comes to you with a softer approach - "Y/N, I want to help you. We've known each other for years, since I started working for the BAU, please let me know. Let me know what is going on. I'm not going anywhere"

You felt like you were about to up-chuck your chinese food all over this poor man, you know you need to tell him.

'Y/N you will never know the outcome of this unless you open your mouth and spill those words to him, be brave, be bold' You think silently to yourself.

"Spencer, I'm pregnant - You are the last person I slept with. I am pregnant with your baby"

if this is horrible, sue me - i haven't written in forever and honestly, this is a little bit longer than i thought it would be - whoops!

FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED

& yeah, yeah- i left this on a cliffhanger, if you beautiful humans actually like this, i had planned to make this a 2 parter story or who knows, if i make the next part longer then it could be 3 or more parts.

[thebestsetter]

Doing the "Oh Mister Todd" trend with Blue Lock boys

- A/N: If you don't know what trend it is, just search: "Mister Todd couples" on tktk!

- Characters: Isagi Yoichi, Rin Itoshi, Bachira Meguru

Isagi Yoichi:

"Yoichi!" You shouted from your bed, trying your hardest to surpress your smile and the giddiness that were almost papable in your voice "My love, can you come here?"

"Sure! Coming in a minute, babe!" You heard your boyfriend answering from downstairs. You then quickly got up and began setting up your phone, smiling hard all the while.

Here's what happened: you were blissfully scrolling through Tik tok while trying to pass time in a (pretty boring) afternoon, when, all of a sudden, you came across one of the cutest videos ever: a couple doing the "Mister Todd" trend.

You had already seen it a couple of times, but never had the chance to do it with Yoichi due to his (sadly packed) schedule. Lucky you, he was on a break from football right now, and was washing the dishes while you relaxed cause, according to him, "While he's here, you won't have to worry about the house chores anymore. He's here to soften your load", he said. (He can be the hero of Japan, sure, but that doesn't mean he can't wash plates and cutlery)

"What is it, love?" He said, entering the room and still wearing a silly "kiss the cook" apron you bought so he could avoid getting wet (how the hell do you wash spoons without getting wet??). He dried his hands on his pants and asked "Do you need my help with something?"

"Yup!" You said, popping the 'p' "I need you to sit right here!" You pointed to a chair that was in front of your dressing table

"Sure...? I don't really get where you're going with this, but I trust you anyway" he said, smiling suspiciously.

When he sat down, he finally took notice of the phone that was propped up against the mirror. He then smiled and waved to the phone, even though you still hadn't began to record.

"Okay. Now, I'm gonna need you to sit still and look pretty. Think you can do it, pretty boy?"

It doesn't matter how long you guys have been dating for. Everytime you call him "pretty boy", Yoichi becomes a blushing and stuttering mess.

"S-sure!" He said, the words coming out rather bashfully and forcefully. It made him more shy then he'd like it to.

Giggling at the effect you had over him (and from how cute your boy was), you pressed the record button and began mouthing the lyrics.

"Oh, Mister Todd"

You then kissed him.

His eyes widened.

If there was one thing Isagi has NEVER grown used to, it's your kisses (and, frankly, he doesn't think he ever would) . The feeling of your lips on his skin feels like heaven on earth, and it always leaves him feeling dumbfounded and lightheaded (in a good way).

"I'm so happy"

Followed by another kiss.

He was literally burning up. His cheeks, his ears, everything in him was red. A bright, strong red. And only you had that effect over him.

"I could" Kiss

"Eat you up I really could" Kiss

Slowly but surely, a smile began spreading across his lips, his eyes sparkling with the love he held for you. It was a wobbly a smile. A lovesick smile. An absolutely helpless smile. A smile that portraied exactly how head over heels for you.

"You know what I'd like to do, Mister Todd?"

His eyes left the camera and began staring at you. His gaze was so strong it made you feel nervous. And what you didn't know was that it didn't reflect 10% of his love for you. His feelings were so, so strong that he was sure you'd never get it. You were his everything, and he was so glad he had met you.

"What I dream?" Kiss

"If the business stays as good?"

Gathering all the courage he had, Isagi gently cupped your cheek and leaned in, locking gazes. He then began slowly reaching for your lips, his eyes quickly leaving yours to stare at your mouth. He smiled at you, finally closing his eyes and then leaning in, kissing you like his life depended on it.

You got so distracted by the overwhelming amount of emotion that Yoichi put in the kiss that you totally forgot your phone.

Sadly, nothing lasts forever, and you eventually had to pull away. You both stared at eachother for a while longer, surrounded by a gentle silence.

"Send me that video, pretty, please?" He said, voice as quiet as a mouse. If you didn't stop to analyse the break in his voice between the pretty and the please, you wouldn't even get that he was complimenting you. And that's one of the things that drove you insane for Yoichi: he was smart. So, so smart.

"Okay" you agreed, relutanctly letting go of his face and reaching for your phone, still a little dizzy from the kiss "There. I did it"

"Thanks." He said, and then looked at you with a (stupidly attractive) smirk "Also, if these are the kind of trends you're gonna do with me in the future, don't hesitate to call me. I loved it."

He then kissed you again. So full of passion. So full of love. So him.

Sadly, once again, he had to pull away.

"Welp, those dishes won't wash themselves. You should sleep, sweetie." Yoichi said, kissing your forehead "Don't worry, I'll come lay with you in, like, 30 minutes. I'll also be here when you wake up."

"Okay then. I'm gonna go ahead and lay down. I love you, Yoichi"

How he loved hearing those words coming out of your mouth.

"I love you too, babe."

He smiled, turning off the lights and closing the door.

You then went to sleep with a mind full of him and him only, still feeling his lips on your forehead.

Oh, how you loved being able of calling him "yours".

Bonus!:

"Damn it!" Yoichi said, breaking yet another plate he tried to place on the kitchen counter and accidentaly slipped from his hands. He really didn't want to make any noise and end up waking you up, but he had no control over this! You left him so dazzed!

With a sigh, Yoichi stared at his phone. He contemplated for a minute, but ultimately decided to grab it. Putting in the code to open the phone (your anniversary), he went to the galery and clicked on the video you just recorded.

"Just once" he thought.

The music echoed through the whole room, until it abruptly ended. The only sound that could be heard was Yoichi's heart, beating strongly and indomitable.

"Once is too little. I'ma watch it twice"

The sound began. The last kiss was heard. The beating of his heart became louder.

"...three time's the charm, right?"

17 times. That's the amount of times he watched that damn video, blushing and smiling like a lovesick teen girl all the while.

"I love you" he whispered to no one in particular, but it was obviously meant for you. "Man, how did I bag you?"

He hugged the phone close to his chest and looked to the stairs, giddy over the fact that, when he went to the second floor, you would be there on the bed, just waiting to cuddle with him.

He was so happy to be called "yours".

Rin Itoshi:

"No! We can't go there! The monster's gonna get us!"

"Don't worry, my love. I'm strong enough to protect us from that scary monster!"

Boring.

That's the only thought that was running through your head while you and Rin were both cuddling on the couch, a crappy horror movie in the background. Every friday you do this, and sometimes you pick a bad movie, but damn, this was worse than bad! This one was terrible!

"This movie sucks" you sighed, frustrated. You then reached for his phone and began using it, since you both usually shared phones "I'm not gonna watch it anymore"

"We've watched worse ones" He argued, still focused on the movie.

You then started to scroll through the endless abysm of internet, using the movie as background noise so the room wouldn't fall totally silent.

Then, like a gift from God, an interesting video appeared in your for you (you had your tktk account logged in his phone, since he rarely used his).

'Mister Todd, huh?' You thought, lifiting an eyebrow.

Smirking like you're a little kid planning something naughty (which, honestly, you kinda are), you got everything ready in your phone and stared at him, batting your eyelashes

"Rinnieeee" you slurred "I need your help"

"What?" he answered, not taking his eyes off his phone "What do you want?"

"Sorry, let me rearrange the sentence: Rinnie, my love, my one and only, could you please lend me a loving and helping hand?"

Sighing like he was tired of your shineningans (even though you both knew he could never be tired of you), Rin finally paused the movie and stared back at you

"What is it, love?"

"That's better" your smirk got even bigger. You quickly gave him the phone, which made him shot you a confused look "Now, sit up and hold the phone in front of us, like we're taking a selfie"

"Why?"

"Just do it!"

Still a little hesitant, he complied. You then hugged him and said:

"Okay. Relax and start the video"

He didn't even have the strenght to question anymore (he was actually just curious about what the hell you were trying to do), so he just did what he was told.

Instantly, a song started to play in the background. He was still very confused about the whole thing, so he just stared at you. You then began to sing while staring at the camera.

If there was one thing about Rin Itoshi, was that he usually didn't show his emotions. He was good at hiding them through his body language, not letting anyone know what he truly thought about most situations. He was impartial most of the time, shooting a serious (almost angry) expression at everyone.

If there was another thing about Rin was that his eyes betray him. He just can't seem to force them to stay neutral. If he was sad, they'd get red. If he was angry, they'd burn like fire. If he was happy, they'd shine.

And he was over the moon right now.

When you kissed him after the first line of the song, he didn't react. It was just too fast! One second you were looking at the camera, and the other your lips were touching his cheeks. Sadly, just as fast as it happened, it ended.

Luckily for him, you did it again. And again. And again.

By the fourth kiss, Rin was utterly speechless. He was feeling lightheaded, his eyes carrying a rare spark in them. His teal orbs were intensely staring at you, trying to convey all the love he felt for you and didn't usually show.

It was so intense, so strong that you felt like fainting on the spot. He looked at you like a kid looking at their favorite toy, like a homeless man looked at a five-star meal, like a dog looked at it's owner after not seeing them for weeks. He looked at you like you were the only woman in the world, like you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever laid his eyes on. The spark in his eyes shined brighter than the brightest star you've ever saw.

A subtle smile crossed his lips, his gaze never wavering.

He could feel his face burning, and he was sure he was so, so red. He must look ridiculous, he thought, but strangely, he couldn't give a damn.

When he remembered he was recording though, his first instinct was to cover his face.

He gently but firmly nuzzled his head between your neck and shoulder, trying his hardest to not let his face show. Sadly, his (burning red) ears could still be seen.

When the last line of the song came and you kissed him for the last time (on the hair, since he was hiding his face), he put down his phone and sighed.

"Did you like it, Rin?" You giggled, passing your hands through his hair

"Mhm" he hummed, shy.

"I'm glad you did" you grabbed his face, lifting it (which earned an unsatisfied "Ughh" from him) and giving his forehead a kiss with an exhagerated 'Mwah!' sound. "I love you Rinnie"

"...I love you too" he said, hugging you hard and burying his face in your shoulder again, this time even deeper than before

A comfortable silence settled in the room. Tired from the day, you drifted off in Rin's arms, feeling his strong hold in your waist. You really did love your boy, even if he acted like a nonchalant prick sometimes.

Bonus!:

Usually, when you wake up, the first thing you do is check your phone for any e-mails, texts or any important notifications. Normally you get, like, 100 at max, since Rin never made your relationship public. That's why, normally, you do expect some of them.

What you didn't expect was that you'd get Tik Tok famous overnight. All thanks to your boyfriend, Rin Itoshi.

You remember that account he never uses? Yeah, it seemes like he finally found an utility for it.

"Off the market." The caption read. It was probably an indirect answer to a news article that got out the week before about how he was "going out with some model girl from Vogue"

You quickly widened your eyes and then ran to the comment session of the video, wanting to see what the 2.7 million people that liked it thought about it.

It0shis_lover: HELLO??? WDYM RIN'S DATING SOMEONE???

nonickyet<3: THEY'RE SO CUTE UGHHH

Isaa.Ichi: Hey, so this is actually insane! Never thought he'd have the balls to actually show his relationship

↳ Itoshi_Rin.: Why don't you go train to try and get at least closer to my level instead of commenting about my relationship online?

↳Isaa.Ichi: I don't need to. I'm already better than you, fcker.

THE._MONSTER: I HOPE HE'S TREATING YOU RIGHT, POOKIE!! DW, I'LL BEAT HIM UP IF HE EVER HURT YOU

Hiorinn_: Wow.

Ryushidou: If you ever get tired of him, just hmu 😘

↳ Itoshi_Rin.: Kys

↳ username: DON'T SAY THIS, RIN!!

username: OKAY, I WAS NOT EXPECTING THIS

↳Itoshi_Rin.: Sorry

Laughing hard, you put the phone down.

Shit, you loved him so much. And he loved you too. That was something you hoped would never change.

Bachira Meguru:

"Meguru! Hahahaha! It's too high!" you said, laughing while your boyfriend, Bachira, pushed you in the swings of an empty children's playground.

"Don't worry! If you fall, I'll catch you with my strong and manly arms" he said, even though he slowed down.

After a while, your swing came to a halt. He sat on the one beside you, holding the chains and looking at the sky

He began humming a melody you knew all too well (it was his favorite song, after all), gently rocking himself.

Surrounded by his gentle singing, you got lost in your thoughts.

You didn't want this date to be over, so you were trying to think of something to make sure you both would still have time to do something fun and that took at least some time.

You didn't have to think too hard, though, since you quickly remembered a trend you saw on tik tok that you'd like to do with your boyfriend.

You got up from where you were sat and propped your phone against a slide's stair.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Bachira asked in a curious way, also getting up and going to where you were

"Something that i'm gonna need your help to do" You smiled, clicking the button and beggining the timer. "Just stay by my side, okay?"

"M'kay!" Bachira said, standing beside you and smiling at the phone

The melody began playing.

Even though he was a chronic internet user, his "For you" didn't have any romantic videos. It mostly consisted of memes, so that's why he never saw this trend.

If he knew that the romantic part of tik tok had trends like this, he'd have started to watch it's videos a lot sooner.

When you kissed him for the first time, Meguru Bachira felt like he would die from happiness.

His body felt like it was shaking, and his thoughts were going a mile per hour, even though all of them had the same theme: you.

He still tried to stay still, though, since it was what you asked him to do.

When you gave him the second kiss, he couldn't take it anymore.

"My turn!" He said, using his hand to put your cheeks together and making your lips pucker up.

He then began kissing you everywhere. Your lips, your forehead, your eyebrows, your eyelids. Everywhere his mouth could reach.

He wanted to show his love for you. He wanted to convey at least half of the strength of his emotions through his kisses. That's why he gave you so many.

The music continued. His kisses also continued. The music stopped. He couldn't care less: he continued kissing you.

Each kiss was a gentle "thank you". For staying with him. For loving him when nobody else did. He loved you. He loved you so, so much.

With one last exhagerated kiss on your lips, Meguru pulled away, but quickly hugged you right after

"I love you" he exclaimed "I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you." He seriously felt like crying "Stay with me, please"

You laughed, reaching for his cheek and kissing it.

"I love you too, Meguru" you smiled at him "And you don't need to worry. I'm not goimg anywhere"

In that empty playground, you both proclaimed your love for one another, sealing with kisses a gentle promise:

You would never leave the other alone.

Bonus:

"Isagi! Help! I lost my phone!" Bachira said, looking through the whole dressing room for it

"I'm gonna try and call it" Yoichi said, doing exactly as he said right after

"Oh mister Todd

I'm so happy

I could

Eat you up, I really could!"

"Found it!" Bachira said, holding his phone up "It was actually inside my bag"

"...sure" Yoichi said, sweating. Curious, he asked: "What kind of ringtone was that?"

"A very special one, Isagi. A very special one..." Meguru said, looking up at the sky and hugging his phone close to his chest like he was in a movie.

"...okay then...."

Man, his bestfriend sure was strange sometimes.

- Can you tell I lost motivation on Bachira's part? 🫠

ALSO, Rin's part has a kind of "smau". It was heavily inspired by another writer here on tumblr. Their name is @sanaexus (if you don't feel comfortable being tagged, just send me an ask!!), and you should totally read their stories/smaus, they're excelent!! Really, I love their smaus smm

Masterlist

[blueicequeen19]

Something Borrowed

Warnings: non-con, forced marriage, creampie, cheating, unhinged Rafe

I lean back in the chair, my eyes locked on the swells of her ass as she screams at her father while he signs the contract. She probably thinks her life is ending with the swipe of a pen but I'll prove to her that it is just beginning.

The moment I saw her was enough for me. The fact that she was born with a backbone and an educated smart mouth were just added bonuses. I didn't want to treat her like a piece of ass but that's all I could think about currently.

I adjusted myself as my cock hardened painfully in my slacks. I was half tempted to check if she was wearing any underwear under her skin tight pencil skirt when the pen dropped on the desk and all the air seemed to evaporate from the room.

"Done." Her father said, his eyes staying on the desk.

"This is not done." She shouted, snatching up the contract as I stood. She'd meant to rip it in half but I grabbed her wrists before she could, pinning her against the desk with my body. Fire and disobedience radiated off her as she glared up at me like I didn't have six inches on her even in her heels.

"Rip it up if it makes you feel better." I leaned in close, making her arch her neck as her nostrils flared. "But nothing is stopping me from making you my wife." An adorable growl met my ears and I couldn't help but smile smugly.

"I'll never marry you." She spat, rolling her lip in disgust. I shifted so my erection was pressing firmly against her stomach. I watched the realization dawn on her and how her eyes tracked down my body before she released the contract to shove at my chest.

"Ugh!"

"Pack your shit or I'll do it for you." She opened her mouth to argue but I held up a finger, silencing her. "And if I have to do it for you, I'm taking the bare minimum and you'll ride in the trunk." I glance back at her father but his eyes are still downcast, his shoulders hung in defeat. I couldn't leave without her knowing that he'd sold her off. I didn't want to be the only one she hated.

"You should know that you did your father a great service." Her brows raise just as her fathers head does, his eyes wide with fear. "Thank your lovely daughter for paying back your debt. Why sell a couple vacation homes when you could just offer up your daughter?"

"You said--!"

"Are you--!"

I lead her from the room just as the shouting starts. I motion for someone to get her stuff as the office door slammed shut. I let her call me every name in the book while attempting to hit me as I navigated us to the car waiting out front.

"I don't want this!" She cried, shoving me again in the chest.

"Too bad."

"Are you so desperate for a wife that you'd blackmail someone into getting one? Is your dick that small?" I barked out a laugh as I pushed her back against the car. I seized her wrist in my hand and made her feel how hard I was. She resisted, her eyes widening in alarm.

"Would you like to drop to your knees right now and find out how small I am?" Her nostrils flared as her hand tightened on my shaft. I flexed the muscle and she jerked away, an adorable blush heating her cheeks.

"Do you think I've had any complaints about my size?" I ask, licking my lips as she avoids looking between us. I cup her chin, forcing her to look at me.

"I bought you because I wanted you. I could've had anyone on the island but I chose you."

"I don't care."

"Maybe you should. Your family would be bankrupt if not for me. I could’ve liquidated everything, leaving you and your mother in the gutter with your loser father but I didn’t.” Her eyes widen as she sniffles.

“Maybe you should be the one thanking me. With your lips around my cock.” I lick my lips, loving the way her eyes track the movement before she blinks, ruining the moment with a shake of her head.

“If you think I’d ever let you—.”

“Let me? Baby, I own you now.” I fist her hair and slam my mouth down on hers. A startled noise leaves her, allowing me to slip my tongue inside. I kiss her like I’ll die if I don’t. All but fucking her with my tongue. She tries to keep up, humming against my lips when a slap suddenly meets my cheek. I laugh, breaking the kiss to see her panting and fuming, her lips wet and swollen from our kiss.

“Trunk it is.”

The weeks before the wedding are nothing short of amusing. Her temper tantrums seem to be the most exciting part of my day even if they cost me thousands of dollars. I’ve decided to surprise her with her wedding dress since she’s destroyed the last two I’ve given to her. Not to mention flushing an engagement ring that cost enough to buy a house.

Now the wedding day has come and it’s taken more threats to ensure she gets down the aisle than not. Especially since she revealed she had a Pogue boyfriend that she would not give up. I warned her what would happen if I ever saw them together.

The very thought has me seeing red and I’m taking off down the hallway to her en-suite before I’ve had time to reconsider. The door is locked but I quickly slip in a master key. I can tell immediately that something is up. The room is empty and quiet. I move past the bed and to the bathroom as my heart starts to race.

She’s fled. I’m sure of it.

A whimpered moan from the other side of the door has my body flooding with rage and I’ve thrown the door open without a second thought. They both jump away from one another but it’s the white lingerie that she’s wearing that makes me snap. That was supposed to be for my eyes only. And now he’s had his filthy hands on her.

“Oh no.” The words barely leave her lips before I’ve grabbed Maybank but his shitty cutoff and landed a fist to his gut. I hit him again and again. Unable to squash the memory of his mouth on hers even as she hits me. I finally stand, blood on my sleeve as I guide him by his hair back towards the bedroom.

“Damnit, Rafe, stop!”

I shrug her off as I yank the handcuffs from my pocket that I was planning to save for our honeymoon. Her eyes widen as I secure one of Maybank’s wrists to the foot of the bed.

“What are you doing!?” She cries as I start to strip out of my tux and down to my boxers. I don’t even care anymore as I secure my tie as a gag around Maybank’s mouth. He’s bleeding and dazed but he’ll quickly come around. I don’t want him to miss a thing.

“Wake up.” I smack him across the face and he groans, blinking at up at us.

“Rafe, stop! What are you doing?”

“Giving you your something borrowed.” I snarl, fisting her hair and shoving her to the carpet on her knees. My cock grows painfully hard in record time as she struggles, her doe eyes pleading up at me. Her hair and makeup are ruined and I’m past the point of caring if her cheeks are streaked with makeup in our wedding pictures. This is her fault.

“Open up.” I free my cock, letting it spring free in her face as she fights my hold.

“I’ll bite it off.” She spats.

“Do it and they’ll never find his body.” I warn, drawing her closer by the hold I have on her hair and pressing the tip to her lips. JJ grunts angrily behind his gag, yanking on the cuffs.

“I’m going to ruin your life for this.”

“Looking forward to it Mrs Cameron. Now suck.” I force my way into her hot mouth, groaning immediately as she takes me deep. Her throat contracts as she gags but she doesn’t stop or resist as I begin to fuck her face. It’s better than anything I’ve ever felt and for some reason Maybank’s anger only makes me enjoy it more.

“She’s pretty good at this.” I say allowed, not taking my eyes off her as Maybank yanks harder on the cuffs. I’m on the verge of cumming too soon already as my attention lock on the swells of her tits, bouncing with every rough thrust down her throat.

Just as I’m about to unload.. I pull free to immediately wrap my hand around her throat. She’s an absolute mess but she’s mine.

“What—.” I force two fingers down her throat to cut her off.

“If you want to act like a slut then I’ll treat you like one.” Her eyes narrow even as she gags, saliva dripping from the corners of her mouth.

“If you want to spread your legs for someone then by all means, spread them.” I pull my fingers free and shove her onto her stomach on the carpet. The crotchless thong she’s wearing gives me a perfect view of her pretty pussy and the arousal that’s coating her thighs. I’m immediately even more pissed off that the fucking Pogue was so close to what’s mine.

“Goddamn.” I pull her hips back and line myself up with her entrance.

“Rafe.. wait..” I slam forward to the hilt, earning a cry of outrage from her and the Pogue.

“Face down.” I shove her head to the carpet as I pull half way out only to shove back in again. She’s so wet that I glide in and out with ease but she’s still so fucking tight. Feeling the way she opens up only to choke the life from my cock might be my new favorite thing.

“Fuck, baby.” I grunt, not slowing my pace as her moans fill the air. My balls are drawn up tight and I don’t stop myself from releasing inside her wet cunt, not caring if she gets hers or not. She glances at me over her shoulder with a look of pure sexual frustration. I’d think she was on the verge of begging until Maybank yanks against his restraints, attempting to kick me.

“One more thing.” I sink two fingers back into her pussy, showing my cum in deep as she sighs in relief before yanking back out and smearing my cum across Maybank’s face. I step on his knee as I stand, making him thrash in pain and anger.

“You wanted my sloppy seconds so bad so there you go, fucker.” I yank back on his hair, making him look at me. “Come near my wife again and I’ll feed you to a gator.” I snarl, rearing back and decking him one last time for good measure. I turn just as my pretty little wife makes a beeline for the door despite being in lingerie.

“Nope.” I snag her around the waist and toss her on the bed before turning towards the garment bag on the back of the door.

“You’re insane!” She shouts, looking even more delicious when she looks freshly fucked.

“No, insane would be making you walk down that aisle in your crotchless panties with my cum running down your legs. I’m at least letting you put the dress on.” I toss it at her but she doesn’t move, glaring at me under her matted lashes.

“I’m not going out there like this. I’m a mess.”

“You had your chance to do this the easy, clean way.”

“My father will kill you.”

“And what will he do to you if he finds out you’re fooling around with a Pogue on the side?” Her eyes widen for a moment because narrowing back into her perfect scowl.

“You embarrassed me so I’m embarrassing you. Now get dressed. I want to be able to look back on our wedding pictures and see how beautiful you look after being fucked for the first time by your husband.”

[bunnys-kisses]

HI HI omg this is my first request

Can I order a coffee with side of crostata and crème caramel served by 7x world champion Lewis Hamilton

And can the situation be they are both drivers and she pushed him of the track and won so after the race she avoids him until he catches her finally

Love the bakery btw 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

bakery menu

want to submit your own order! then check out the menu! there are tons of options and i'd love for you check it out! as for this lovely anon! thank you for the submissions! you know i love a good rivals au, i eat it up!! so i hope you love it! enjoy!

crostata (“stupid slut, this is what you wanted huh? wanted me to fuck you like i hate you.”) crème caramel ("oh. you thought you were getting away from me?") + coffee (rivals au) served by lewis hamilton (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, dom/sub, rivals au, driver!reader, mean!lewis, rough sex, driver's room sex, doggy style, unprotected sex, mean!lewis

you had been hiding since you pulled ahead in zandvoort, securing first place. you got past norris, you got past verstappen, and you even got past the seven time world champion, lewis hamilton.

maybe your methods were a little unconventional on the track, after all, you pushed lewis off the track as a meant to secure your spot. so currently the mercedes driver was upset with you.

so therefore you were avoiding him.

you and lewis had been rivals for close to two seasons. even if he was the seasoned veteran of the track. the top title holder with a model's face and the heart of an engine. and you were a little firecracker. you came onto the scene and drove like the devil himself was on your heels.

one the track, in the paddock or in front of the press. you were the first in a while to really give him a run for his money. while you weren't a beauty queen, the media thought you were their darling. when lewis accused it of amazing media training, you just smiled, "what's wrong hamilton, under my spell too?" and lewis wanted nothing more than for you to choke on his cock.

but, lewis was a good finder. and soon as you slinked through the empty paddock. everyone packed up for the night, you heard his voice, "is that the princess!" his voice echoed in your brain.

you swallowed and tried to start moving faster. but lewis had a wider stride and even if you tried to run. he would follow. after all, he wanted to see today's winner.

"there you are!" he said with faux sweetness in case there were any lingering workers. he grabbed you from behind and hoisted you around, "there's the winner! i was looking all over for you." you tried to make yourself dead weight so he'd let go of you, but when he whispered in your ear, your knees turned to jelly, "oh. you thought you were getting away from me?"

"hi, lewis." you swallowed.

his hand was spread across your chest. he could feel your racing pulse. he exhaled close to your ear and said, "oh, you're very funny for thinkin' that, love."

"it was an accident."

"no, no. don't lie. where's all that bravado. you look like you're going to pass out. what about the spell you had?"

"i'm sorry for pushing you off the track."

he kissed a kiss on the back of your neck, almost tender, "words mean nothing, love. can i trust you to walk about thirty feet to my driver's room? can you be a good girl for me?"

"lewis, can't this-"

"no." he said simply, "if this was about half an hour ago i would've driven us to my nice hotel and we could've even had dinner before i wrecked you. but not now, now you get to be fucked in the driver's room." his tone left you feeling hazy.

you tried to stand your ground with him, "they didn't call it, so you have no reason to be mad. you can't just pull those cheap seduction tricks and except me to fall for them."

his hands groped your ass and he said, "no, no. it's just the princess getting her special treatment once again. she can do no wrong." he kissed your neck once more, "can't let that ego get too big. because if you stop winning and the shininess of a female driver fades. they'll drop you. but i'll always have a place for you, love. right between my legs."

your stomach twisted, you felt a throb of heat in your chest. you said softly, "driver's room, right?" there was no escaping this.

lewis let go of you, but took you by the hand as an extra safety precaution. he even swung your hand like you were lovers as you walked to his driver's room. meanwhile you were mentally screaming.

you and lewis have had sex before. it was an open secret in the paddock, so much so the press had caught onto it. but it was all a flurry of rumors. there was no evidence, only word of mouth from the poor employees that caught you in the act.

you got into the room without much trouble. despite what many thought, the driver's room was the worst place to have sex. it felt like it was almost designed for driver's not to have sex.

it wasn't spacious, something about the furniture left it almost impossible to get intimate at a good angle. and that was where lewis was going to teach you a lesson.

lewis started to get undressed and expected you to do the same. he locked the door so there was no intrusion. if someone with a camera caught you, it would be international news.

then the press would talk about the eventually wedding and kids. and even the mere thought of it made you feel disgusted. being married to lewis, you had a career to go after. women to inspire! you couldn't be tired down to a man like lewis.

but yet he had you on the carpet, your hands above your head with your ass in the air. there was something domineering about him in that moment. the charming lewis, a true face of formula one, had you spread out on the carpet, ready to devour you.

you tried to get out of your clothes with your head pressed against the carpet. you kicked off your pants and struggled to get your panties off, briefly getting tangled in them.

lewis chuckled, "stuck there, love?"

you replied, huffing against the carpet, "i'm fine, i'm fine." you got out of your clothes and yelped when lewis smacked your soft ass.

"i have to admit." he said as he leaned back on his heels with his hard cock in hand, "you are very pretty. you could sell tickets with that face, but if you showed a little more. you could sellout tracks."

you arched your back and sighed into the carpet, "is that why you show all that skin online."

he leaned on top of you, his cock almost slipping in. he said, "no, no. i do those because i know you're looking. you still follow me online, love. i know you're watching and i like showing off."

you felt your heart skip a beat and you gripped into the carpeted floor, "fuck, lewis."

he pulled away a little and then rubbed the blunt tip of his cock up against your slick entrance. he said, "i know, i know. i'll make it all better soon." then eased into your pussy, which made you make the sweetest noises for him.

such a foe on the track, but when you were under him, you were a little lamb. you wouldn't hurt a fly. or push someone off the track.

he held onto your hips as he started to move. there was little time for introductions. the need to fuck was intense, it was causing your blood to run hot. you held onto the carpet and tried to meet his pace, but he kept it in a way that threw you off.

"you look good under me." he chuckled, his mouth was near your ear, he was keeping your top half pressed with the carpet. the material of it rubbed awkwardly against your breasts, leaving them a little raw from the movements.

"lewis. please, i'm sorry." you croaked.

he replied, almost softly, "i'll forgive you when you make me finish. can't be in a good enough mood to forgive when i'm hard as fuck." his lips trailed down your neck, and it made you shiver.

you whimpered a little, the feeling flooded your brain. the rush of feelings left you feeling hazy. your heartbeat felt distant in your ears as he continued to fuck you.

it was private, but it felt so public. someone with the right key could easily find lewis hamilton taking apart his rival. you were his favourite one, in a total honestly if he'd want anyone to beat him, it would be you.

but he'd never tell you that, he'd push you to your racing and sexual limits, leaving you gasping for more. flood that little head of yours with the reminder of how he made you feel.

you came and you had to cover your mouth so you didn't make so much noise. you didn't need to have people outside the room starting to get curious about what was going on inside. the feelings hit like a brick, a swift kick to you that left you aching. your noises, while muffled, made lewis want to fuck you harder.

you panted into your palms and arched your back. your eyes rolled back a little from the intensity. when you started to come down, lewis was still thrusting up into you. your noises were more passive as he continued to move against you.

"pretty girl." he said, "all fucked out under me." he shook his head a little, "i wonder what your team would think? having you spread out under me. no matter how many podiums you take, you'll never be me." he leaned forward, making sure every last inch was inside of you. he kissed the apple of your cheek and said, "i'll show you sometime, what a world champion trophy looks like." his voice was venomous and it bit at your lust riddled head.

"lewis."

"it's only fair." he curved your back a little more, getting at just the right angle, "it'll be the closest you ever get to one."

his harsh words made sparks in your head as you came once more. this time you sounded a little more desperate as you weren't able to cover your mouth. but that was enough for lewis, two heavy thrusts and he held onto you as he came.

you dropped your hips onto the floor and some cum ended up on the carpet. you panted wildly, not able to find words. but you could feel lewis' heated gaze.

he chuckled a little and rubbed his eyes, the feeling was intense even for him. he could feel the blood rush in his body, like when he raced. he said, "this is how i like you. all fucked out and not causing me problems on the track."

you made a small noise, your tongue unable to produce words. next time, think about running one of the greatest off the tracks. <3

[godihatethiswebsite]

Tethered Bonds

✽ Poly 141 x f!reader (Omegaverse AU)

A lucky stroke of fate led you right into the arms of your alpha soulmates. But is it everything you dreamed it would be or just the continuation of a nightmare?

Main Masterlist ✽ Ao3

✽ Part One - A twisted fate

I'm gonna be honest: this came to me in a tired, period induced haze and I have no idea what the hell I'm doing but the bunnies would not let me stop until I finished it. Was supposed to be a oneshot... until it wasn't XD Hoping this is just gonna be a short little pet project on the side. Lemme know if I missed any triggers!

Trigger warnings: SA (not by the 141), biting, claiming, angst, depression, hurt/no comfort, self harm

[Edit 7/16/24: updated relationship tags]

The parking lot was a certified mess to navigate, a veritable winter hellscape with the continual snowfall keeping the pavement slick and churning around spinning wheels to create a thick dirty slush. Packed cars fought for spaces towards the front of the store, wanting to avoid the headache of trudging through sloppy sleet, heavy carts overflowing with expensive gifts and last minute groceries.

Parents loaded up their trunks for their upcoming banquets. Little ones chattered in youthful exuberance about brightly wrapped packages and a jolly fat man. Festively dressed bell ringers exhausted their muscles for the cause of charity, offering joyous smiles to those passing by gracious enough to offer a token. Even six inches of heavy wet snowfall were not enough to deter shoppers from their mood. Coupled with the obnoxiously boisterous music that met you at the door it was almost impossible not to get swept up in the infectious holiday spirit.

Almost.

You hadn’t bothered joining the chaotic dominance for prime parking, opting to choose the very last row towards the street instead of wasting precious minutes yelling profanities out the window to an uppity pack trying to steal your spot. The harsh wind burned your face and nipped at your skin, pulling the woolen scarf tighter around your neck and up over your bitten nose. You avoided eye contact with the chipper lady at the front, not wanting to feel guilty for not donating when you barely had enough to scrape by as it is.

Normally you avoided venturing out this close to Christmas unless absolutely necessary. Holidays haven't meant much to you in recent years since your parent’s untimely passing and you hated the constant reminder of ‘the most wonderful time of the year’. Sure, there were still your other two alpha fathers, but they’d opted for someplace warmer in their age and visitation was difficult with your busy work schedule. Your younger brother wasn’t almost worth mentioning with his new prissy family somewhere up north. That bridge was burned the day he called you a harlot.

Needless to say, you’d become something of a grinch.

You’d been miserably sick the week prior and ate through most of your stockpile of hoarded food, not enough remaining to keep blowing off shopping with the bustling crowds. If you wanted to last past New Years then a trip into town was unavoidable.

The intense blast of hot air from the overhead heaters thawed your aching bones upon entering the store, shaking the accumulated dampness from your head and shoulders but leaving the thick cloth covering the lower half of your face. It would help you in your endeavors to get through the aisles expediently without irritating your delicate omega olfactory senses. 

It got harder to distinguish the source of fragrances this time of year, when folk spent their days burrowed away from the bitter cold surrounded by the comforts of the season. A chilled glass of rich subtly spiced eggnog, smokey cedar logs crackling in the hearth, sweet woodsy pine wreaths and garlands wrapped around thick oak banisters, trees decorated with peppermint candy canes and dried strings of popcorn. 

Gingerbread, mulled wine, cinnamon, orange, clove; a bountiful buffet of complementary aromas. Your own father had smelled of cranberry sauce once upon a time (it made the holidays that much harder when he was gone). And with so many people filling the space - even with the heating fans working overtime trying to filter out most of it - it could get difficult trying to figure out whether a boozy scent originated from a lovely beta or the soaked rum cake she was placing in her cart.

Honestly if it weren't for the outrageous delivery fees you would've had the groceries dropped off instead of enduring the aggressive pheromones floating through the air. Alas this was one of your few exceptions to your hermit lifestyle.

Truthfully, it wasn’t just December that had you hesitant to leave the sanctuary of your meager apartment. 

For the past few years, you’d been battling a severe case of agoraphobia, something you’d been working on wholeheartedly with a therapist since the accident that made you so. It had crippled you to the point that even daring to have the blinds open on your windows sent you spiraling into that dark abyss of cackling distress, panic consuming every last ounce of breath until you found yourself minutes later curled up on the bathroom floor, lightheaded and queasy.

Nausea was a constant in your life, along with the cold sweat that had you sleeping on a towel just to keep from ruining your bedsheets. Lethargy was embedded in your muscle fibers. A searing ache in your throat. The painful deep tugging in your chest an ever present reminder of the uphill battle you fought each time you opened your crusty sleep filled eyes. Depression was your best friend, curled around you in a false sense of comfort where it was easier to slip into a maladaptive headspace than face the truth of your harsh reality.

But despite the physical manifestations of your trauma, you’d made good strides so far with your weekly sessions. It had been a difficult road getting to this point and your therapist praised you for your dedication to not letting it hinder the life you had ahead. You weren’t sure what it looked like, but you tried all the same.

Like a hound that heard you calling, that ominous presence that filled you with dread came crawling into the back of your skull, mittened hand discreetly itching at the wool around your neck and scratching the irritated skin beneath. Forcing yourself to take a few deep breaths until it settled, you grabbed one of the many baskets available and began the trek weaving down the rows of food.

Christmas was about a week away and the mobs were out in full force. Thankfully the items you were on the hunt for were not the same ingredients needed by everyone else. There was the occasional overlap of things like milk, eggs, bread, etc. But there was no call for a full sized turkey or spiraled ham; no sweet potato casserole or chocolate yule log to bake. Just some bologna, shredded cheese, a couple packs of ramen, and a few other household things here you were running low on. 

Maybe for the hell of it you’d stop in the frozen section and find yourself a mini cheesecake to splurge on for when you inevitably opened that bottle of fireball sitting on the shelf come next Tuesday, forced to listen to your upstairs neighbors' horrendous attempts at Christmas caroling.

Halfway through the store, your browsing was interrupted by an alluring scent swirling somewhere nearby.

Citrusy. Acidic. Sweet. Airy. 

Your scarf had slipped off your face when you bent down to grab something off the lower racks, exposing you to the freshly baked goods across the way. Someone nearby was carrying a batch of lemon cupcakes, your mouth watering as the scent invaded your tastebuds and forced a pleasant hum from the back of your throat. 

Something curled in your chest like a finger beckoning forward, begging for an acknowledgement that had you standing at rapt attention. Your body seemed to move on its own, head swiveling like a rickety chair, scanning the nearby vicinity - for what, you couldn’t say. The inner omega that prowled just underneath the surface vibrated restlessly, choking back a needy whine while your eyes swept over the closest individuals. Something primal had called out to you, throwing your hormones out of whack, piecing together invisible clues so obviously standing right in front of you. 

The summery concoction felt so out of place in the harsh winter months, swirling and nagging at the base of your spine, urgent and loud and taking up too much space until you felt like you could drown in its tang–

Your muscles locked in place, gaze affixed to something - someone - at the end of the aisle. 

A big someone. An alpha.

And he was massive.

There was a natural musculature that came with the inherited alpha genetics. Beta’s could grow to a similar size if they worked at it, but there was a casual arrogance that was impossible to mistake with the former designation. Even still, this man towered over most others in the vicinity, lesser alphas giving a wide berth to the intimidating figure currently staring down at his phone screen. Thick grey hoodie pulled up over his head, a black military jacket layered over top. Dark wash jeans led down to warm boots hefty enough to stomp a man’s skull in. Messy dark blonde hair peeked out from up top, a black surgical mask covering the lower half of his face from view.

He couldn’t have given off any more ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibes if he had it tattooed across his forehead. There was nothing sinister about his bearing per se - one hand casually shoved into a coat pocket as he leaned back against one of the dessert displays - but there was a coiled alertness that gave you the distinct impression he was more aware of his surroundings than he led you to believe.

One thing was for certain: you were never more sure of anything in your less than perfect life that that man was your scent match.

Your lungs expanded in your chest to drink in more of his scent. Palms turned sweaty, hair on the back of your neck prickled, the weight of the basket on your arm all but forgotten. Your throat parched at the prospect of getting to shove your face against his scent gland and taste the delectable lemony goodness right off his skin. 

People went lifetimes never meeting their perfect scent matches. The odds of you ever encountering one wasn’t even worth holding out hope for. Over seven billion people on the planet and you had to win an epic fucking lottery to get as lucky as you just did. Bonding ceremonies like that made the news for how rare it was. You’d never even dreamed of this happening, making peace with the idea that mates only existed in fairytale romance.

You just about dropped your groceries when he was joined shortly thereafter by another gorgeous male, slightly shorter by a few inches and not as broadly built. Rich dark skin, effortlessly cool street style, short black curls, and a dazzling pearly white smile.

This new alpha didn’t seem to flinch in the presence of the other, lemon cupcake glancing up only briefly to acknowledge the newcomer whose toasted coconut aroma barrelled right into you, colliding like a runaway freight at an unguarded intersection. Gulping down mouthfuls of air like a fish heaving on dry land, your head spun wildly at the nutty intrusion; smokey yet sweet, conjuring images of a warm evening bonfire on a lush sandy beach. 

Hope bloomed in your chest something fierce and bright. Your omega preened in unbridled delight, pawing at the surface, eager to get her hands on the two beautiful specimens whose every atom screamed ‘mine’. Tears stung behind your eyes, a mixture of relief and elation, vibrant like bursting fireworks and twinkling Christmas lights. 

What would you say to them? Do you approach them first? Should you wait for them to scent you back or try to pretend you didn’t smell them yet? What did their voices sound like? You could see their lips moving, even if the ones’ were hidden behind a surgical mask. Tenor, baritone, rumbly bass? What were their names? Where did they live? Was this really happening right now?! 

Something twisted and gnarled sunk its claws into your subconscious, rearing its ugly head in protest at the newfound revelation, but for the first time in years you didn’t fucking care. 

They were here. Your alphas. Your pack. Your salvation.

“Babes!” 

Decadent chocolate floated past you, a small apology from her lips as the omega brushed by, bumping her arm against yours on the way to her intended destination. You’d hardly noticed, too caught up in your own inner monologue and girlish fantasies to barely manage a quiet ‘no worries’.

For a split second, your eyes met coconut’s beautiful luscious brown, breath catching in your throat as the object of your desire finally seemed to take note of your existence. It was like gazing into the threads of the universe, pulling taut between you in a cosmic symphony that brought your stardust back together from whence it scattered at the dawn of time. 

A perfect part of an incomplete whole.

…until those shimmering umber pools shifted left, aimed at the bubbly figure headed right towards them. 

Huh?

Confusion as both alphas turned their full undivided attention to the dark haired omega, holding out a box of something for them to inspect and smiling when it met their approval, an affectionate pat on the head from lemon for her success that left her beaming with pride. 

That’s when you noticed it - peeking out underneath the collar of her elegant peacoat. A faint white crescent moon shaped scar, standing out against her lightly tanned skin, a matching one a little farther down. 

Mating bites. A bonded omega. 

And your scent matched alphas were gazing lovingly at her as if she’d hung the stars. 

She was theirs. They’d already found their mate. 

And it wasn’t you.

Something died in your chest, a broken scream torn silent from your soul as it condensed into a burning black hole. Agony unlike anything you’ve ever known, piercing your fragile heart and burrowing like a plague into your veins until the sickness had spread to every corner of your being. Your omega clawed at her eyes, willing the visions in front of you to vanish like a twisted mirage, begging for a bullet to erase the image of coconut planting a soft forehead kiss before wrapping an arm around her waist and turning to leave. 

A dejected whine ripped from your throat as you took an unconscious step forward, hand vaguely outreached, instincts screaming to chase after them and make them choose you instead of her. But you did no such thing. You watched helplessly as the alphas who were supposedly destined for you by the stars turned their backs on your pathetic existence.

This couldn't be happening. Why was this happening?! Please turn around!!!

With the same circulating air that had guided their scents to you, the wind in the store shifted.

Lemon cupcake went ramrod straight, whipping his head around so fast you were worried it’d go flying off his shoulders. It was uncanny the way he immediately zeroed in on your poor trembling figure, standing in the middle of a crowded aisle, uncaring to the concerned glances of the other shoppers as he unknowingly ruined your life. 

Recognition sparked deep behind voided irises before going completely neutral, steeling his expression but remaining unmoving as stone. It’s like the two of you were locked into place, orbiting each other by an invisible tether, watery eyes begging the ones staring back to please… please not leave you behind.

Coconut halted in his own step at the end of the aisle, sniffing the air for a moment with a furrowed brow, glancing over his shoulder at lemon, asking him something too far away to overhear. You can only assume the contents of his reply, the slightest shift of his mask the only tell he’d responded before coconut turned to face you as well.

This time garnered more of a physical reaction than the last, jaw dropping while staring just as unabashedly as his alpha companion. Eyes swept from head to toe, cataloging every minute detail the same as you’d done to them. Pupils dilated exponentially, nostrils flaring taking in the crisp pear scent you exuded, memorizing every facet and swallowing it down like a ravenous predator.

What a sight you must’ve made; eyes red and puffy from the tears that now flowed freely from suffering instead of the earlier jubilation, meek and sheepish and falling apart at the seams. What a piss poor impression to give the men fated to be your mates.

There was a brief moment where coconut seemed to match your initial energy, a flash of something saccharine and longing, only for it to collapse under the grueling weight of our fatalistic reality. There was an internal struggle in the crease of his brow, the downturned expression souring behind clenched teeth and tight fists. But more than that there was pity - pity at how you couldn’t have met sooner. Pity that you’d had to discover them like this, a woman on their arm and bite marks on her neck. Pity that they hadn’t had faith that they would be the lucky ones in a packed society.

You can make out a question on the chocolate omega’s perfectly pouty lips, trying to put the jigsaw together as to why her alphas were suddenly acting this way while glancing between the three of you.

Ignoring her, coconut takes a half step forward; you take two steps back. There’s an apology in your watery eyes, a hushed ‘merry christmas’ too strained for their ears. Your heart’s beating too loudly, your breath comes too shallow. You don’t even realize you’re sucking in heaving sobs until a gentle hand of a passerby lands on your shoulder, snapping you out of the chaos of your psyche. 

You can’t take it any more; the shame, the embarrassment, the gut wrenching defeat. 

The basket falls to the floor with a loud clatter, startling the people nearby who let out shrieks and gasps of surprise as the spilled contents inside break open and shatter. Eggs crack, milk pours onto the mud trekked tile, a fragile jar of strawberry jam splatters across someones pristine boots with an indignant shout.

A smooth tenor voice calls out ‘WAIT’, but you’ve already rounded the corner, barreling through the crowds of happy smiles and ecstatic giggles, too torn up inside to feel anything but desolation at the future so cruelly ripped from your fingers.

The crisp frigid air smacks the breath from your lungs, winter boots slapping on the slushy frozen ground. The squeal of brakes accompanies you as you sprint uncaringly through the bustling traffic, horns honking and voices shouting, muffled and far away as you drown in the whirlwind of your mind. It’s a miracle you’re not hit by a car, an even bigger one that you make it back to your own unscathed.

Slamming the car door shut, you smack your padded palms repeatedly against the steering wheel, banshee wailing your vocal cords raw in despair. The dark presence creeps in once more, a mocking chill down your spine as it caresses your fractured soul. The nausea comes back full force, the tugging on your chest, the burning in your throat. There’s a desperation as you tear your fitted mittens off, reaching under the woolen scarf and incessantly scratching at the irritated skin until it shreds under your nails. The pain doesn't register through your emotional torment, blocking out the inner voice until it inevitably slinks back into the shadows after its bitter lick of victory.

Panting hard, your head slumps back against the cloth headrest, stewing in the silence of misery and defeat, the distant joyful bells of Christmas the only company you have on this cold winter’s night.

It takes a few tries to fit the key in your deadbolt, blinking through tears now frozen to your eyelashes. There’s no recollection of how you even made it home in your brittle mental state. For all you knew were twelve civilians flattened like pancakes on the side of the road and a warrant out for your arrest. 

Wouldn’t that be nice? A break from having to pay bills and function like an adult.

Stumbling through the door, the sparse furnishings of your minimal studio glare at you, flipping them off as you shuck the damp outer layers from your frail form. A mess to be cleaned up another day.  

It wasn't just the rejection of your fated mates you were facing. It was the knowledge that your entire future had been ripped away and no amount of hot glue could piece it back together. Today’s revelation was the final nail in the coffin for the rest of your life.

The bathroom lights flickered with dying bulbs, something that had been on your shopping list tonight and was now being swept off the floor along with everything else you’d left behind. It didn’t stop you from locating the first aid kit under your sink, setting it on the ceramic counter and pulling out the well loved supplies inside.

You avoided staring at your gaunt reflection, not wanting to see the person looking back as you tugged at the thick scarf looped around your neck. The constricting material tore away with ease, falling into a discarded heap on the floor, revealing the torn mottled flesh hidden underneath. 

Your own set of crescent shaped scars - where the line of your neck connected to the meat of your shoulder, long since healed over and faded with time. The area surrounding it was now swollen and inflamed, raised angry red lines dotted with scrapes like a bad case of road rash, bloody from where you'd furiously clawed at your neck on the car ride home. The only time the fucker in your head shuts up - the connection tethering you emotionally gone silent once he got tired of feeling physical pain across the bond.

Memories came unbidden. Flashes of that fateful encounter coming home late from work, dragged into a sequestered shadowy overhang a few meters down the darkened alleyway. A feral alpha hopped up on something illegal, tearing into your clothes and violating the virginal space between your thighs. The muffled cries as he overpowered you, panting through a rut with his greasy fingers shoved down your throat to silence you, gagging on the musky taste. The scream as his teeth pierced your flesh, the bond snapping taut and stealing your future from you without a thought to your own wishes.

He’d fucked you ragged that night, waking up with your cheek pressed into the damp pavement and his arm slung around your waist from hours earlier. There’d been no one to turn to, no one who would care. By law now you were his - no matter the means it had been done. 

A mating bite was binding. 

You’d crawled away from him, your outfit in tatters hanging loosely over your bruised form, dried blood stuck to your neck and a stabbing pain at your apex. You felt dirty and used and wanted nothing more than to strip the skin from your bones. The unconscious form of the– your alpha flopped prone on his back, crimson stains around his mouth and his flaccid cock still half out of his trousers. The pinpricks on his arm told the tale of a junkie. It’s possible he hadn’t even been fully aware of the crime he’d committed. 

You didn’t stick around to find out.

But you paid for that decision harshly, opting for a life not attached to your abuser, at a steep tormented cost. Bonds weren’t meant to be strained for so long. It starts to cause negative impacts on the pair, the omega bearing the worst of the brunt. Nausea, sweating, pain, dizziness, fatigue. The chronic illnesses you endured day in and day out would stay with you for the rest of your life. So long as he was up and walking free - alive somewhere on the other side of the country - his greasy claws strumming your senses through the connection tethering you eternally.

Only a perfect scent match could override the original bite and free you from the oppressive bonds that shackled you to an invisible alpha - the last remaining hope you had at any semblance of happiness.

And you just lost it.

>> ✿ Next ✿ >>

[nyashykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Jinwoo x Nerd! Fem! Reader: Drabbles ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 037 ✦ ┆・

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Moonstruck ] ¡! ❞

Jinwoo can be what you call a jock . Is he not? 6 feet tall, a finey built body fit for the demanding sport he chose, undeniably attractive to the ladies with his looks that of an idol— You get the point.

But to him, he wouldn't have it any other way. Not that he is narcissistic of course.

It's just... Well,...

This life is way better than what he had to go through when the gates were open. Sure, he hasn't completely sealed the gates away, but this peace is still uncomparable.

As he looks up at the grey skies, he finds himself tearing from the clouds and looking at your distant figure from the bleachers busily jotting down something in your little notebook.

He heard of you from his many friends, or should he remain with them with how snarky they are? They often described you in degrading means, openly mocking your appearance, and discussing well... Your interests.

From what he heard, you were quite the eccentric person back then. Almost everyone in this class came from the same elementary school after all. They said you used to be the loudest most obnoxious girl in class, which led you directly into being the figure of mockery for young kids.

It was obvious that history made you into the reclused person that you are today. He never really pays attention to anyone, but Jinwoo somewhat knew of your presence around him— After all, he sat behind you.

Other than that? He never knew anything else about you.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Jinwoo sighs as he packs up his notebook after the subject has ended. He was feeling deathly bored despite the fact that he needs to think about the research project that the previous teacher had assigned.

"..." He feels two gentle taps on his shoulder.

"U-uhm..." Jinwoo looks back, looking back at your awkward demeanour. "...Erm... We're assigned together for this project?.."

"Ah right," Jinwoo hums, "Wanna talk about it now? It's a free period after all"

"Sure..." You fidget in your fingers, actively avoiding Jinwoo's eyes that he found intriguing but didn't point out.

"The teacher wants us to discuss something about geology something" Jinwoo says boredly. "Any ideas?"

"..."

He watches you shrink to yourself and he clears his throat.

I must have come off as cold, he thought.

"I'm fine with anything," He said. "I'm not too good with these stuff so..."

"Twilight..." Jinwoo hears your small voice.

"Pardon?"

"We can do... The twilight zone." You say.

"???" Jinwoo tilts his head. "What's that?"

"...!" He watches you perk up, a distinctive glimmer in your eyes as you start shaking your fists a little. "I-it's uhm... The twilight zone or the mesopalagic which is underneath the epipelagic and is beneath the ocean surface and erm... Well, it's 1000 meters deep and since it's so deep it's really really dark, the only light you can see are the occasional bioluminescense flickers which is like a small light made by the deepsea creatures. I-it's basically made by a chemical reaction between luciferin and luciferase which are respectively a light-emitting molecule and luciferase is an enzyme. S-since the mesopalagic zone is really dark compared to the epipalagic zone that can still has a bit of light and algae can still have photosynthesis. The mesopalagic zone instead uses chemosynthesis that happens around hydrothermal vents and uhm... Methane seeps. Bacterias on the uhm sea floor, the very very bottom or inside other animals use the energies in err... Energies that are stored in chemical bonds of some stuff. We can use that for our research."

"..." Jinwoo felt like he just died three seconds into your little rant trying to explain what the twilight zone. He can't even recall one or two words from all that talking you did which he in turn felt a little guilty for. "S-sure... Let's go with the mesopela....Thing."

And that was the start of your friendship with Jinwoo.

He didn't really think much of it, the two of you managed to get a perfect score in the research project because of your extensive knowledge of the deep sea.

Jinwoo thought that would be end of his interactions with you, and yet he slowly finds himself looking for your presence. At first, it was just simple goodmornings and hellos whenever you both pass by eachother by the hallways during lunch— To him starting some small talk with you.

It really started so simple, it really did. But slowly, Jinwoo found himself purposely triggering your nerdy side.

At first, it was just him making an excuse to prolong the conversations. But now? He was actively listening to whatever you tell him to. He still had trouble memorizing or processing the many names and chemical, biological stuff you yap on and on about but in the end— He finds himself wanting to know more about it.

He wanted to learn more about you.

The sea really seemed to make you the happiest seeing how you perk up as you start explaining the life cycle of a sperm whale, or how beautiful the cetaceans are in general.

Because of your non-stop obsession with the deep, Jinwoo finds himself listening to whale songs that somehow helped him relax more at night.

He'd always have multiple nightmares whenever he slept, sometimes he dreams of his father's death, most times it's him relieving the agony he had gone through leveling up and the phantom pain of dying multiple times— Despite his age they still haunt him.

And when Jinwoo finds himself in the torturous cycle of death and misery, he hears the distant hum of whales. In his nightmares, he would follow those songs and get pulled out of his hell.

And he swears, that in every nightmare you would be the one to reach your hand out and taking him into paradise. He would wake up with his outstretched palm towards the ceiling, a tear falling down his cheek.

He craved to touch your fingers at that very moment, he wanted to feel the gentle caress of your digits on his face, the warmth of your skin against his, the sound of your tender voice reverberating in his ears as you explained to him all about the things you love.

Jinwoo would never really realize that he himself is growing soft on you. He knows that his friends would never shut up about how gentle he is around you, but he never really believes their words.

What's so wrong about him wanting to bask in you anyway?

He just wants to bask in your presence, drown in the moment just as you are with your love for the ocean.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

"My king" Igris's small head appears, hovering over Jinwoo's shoulder. "The queen, she's"

"Out with it," He says immediately as he had just had just finished changing out of his track suit.

"...She's hyperventilating, a few unruly morons decided to mock her of her unfortunate past and she is unwell," Igris explains. "Your orders, my lo—"

"Shadow Exchange."

Instantly, Jinwoo had transported himself to where you were. He wasn't too worried about you catching him, since you were too distracted pacing back and forth nibbling at the edge of your fingertips.

He shakes his head, knocking on the desk to catch your attention.

To which it did but it startled you.

"A-ah, Jinwoo..." You sputter, not meeting his grey eyes again as you fumble on yourself. "I... Didn't see you there."

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you" Jinwoo smiles gently, "Wanna go somewhere cool for a bit?"

"But... We're in school?" You tilts your head, watching him offer up a hand, waiting for you to accept his offer.

"It's okay, just trust me in this" He said.

You were hesitant at first, but eventually, you place your palm on Jinwoo's. He pulls you a bit close, his towering figure in front of you. But somehow, you felt completely safe as long as he is here.

The ground beneath you both would shift, from the pristine while tiles of your school to blue water reflecting your images. You throw your head up above your head, and up in the sky you could see fluffy and full white clouds moving ever so slowly.

"H-how?" You asked, baffled, your knees trembling as you feared that you will fall into water since you don't know how to swim.

"It's okay, it's okay" Jinwoo cooes, gently lifting your chin up. "Look at me. Look at me."

His grey eyes were so gentle, full of tenderness as it gazes upon you.

"Don't be scared," Jinwoo smiles, "It's all mine, so there's nothing to be scared of"

He then brings another hand out and flicks his finger, where the lovely sound of whale songs would catch your attention.

Your gaze would befall to your right, where a giant and majestic humpback blue whale would gracefully swim on the air.

More would appear around the both of you, from giant cetaceans to different species of jellyfish as well as sharks would fill the sky— All of them swimming about.

You find yourself so utterly mesmerized, your heart almost drumming out of your chest as you reach your hand up in the air, to which a few fish would come to your direction and nuzzle your fingers.

"It's kissing my fingertips, tickling me..." You say, your gleaming eyes looking at Jinwoo who was just watching you the whole time.

In his mind, Jinwoo would recall the conversations he has with his friends. They would never shut up about how he cant stop himself from hovering around you. How Jinwoo can't stop himself from ghosting his fingers around you. How his eyes cant hide away the adoration in them whenever you are in his sight. It was like he's this lovesick puppy.

And they're right.

He is utterly and completely devoted to you. He wants to give you everything that he has in his person, he wants to give you his paradise. If he can, he would rip his heart out and offer it to you.

He wanted to give you the world.

Everytime he listens to your ramblings, he finds himself lost in your presence. It was as if you yourself was his very own version of a lullaby.

And he wanted nothing more than to protect and love you.

"It's okay," Jinwoo says, intertwining his fingers with yours before bringing the back of your hand up to his lips— Where he would lightly kiss your knuckles. "Everything here, so long as I'm around you— You'll be safe and sound."

"Nothing and no one can ever hurt you, alright? So please, just keep talking like you always did, I like hearing about your love of the ocean. I want to see the prettier things of this world, so won't you tell me more?"

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

That was the day that Jinwoo became your boyfriend. Days spend with him are full of love and adoration... Minus the little anxiety you have in your heart as a lot of kids in your grade would disappear. The only similarity with them was that they all used to be your past bullies that you would tell Jinwoo and people who would mock you behind your back. But since you have Jinwoo, you'll be alright. The police will be in charge of that. That is,... If they are even smart enough to figure out who this little serial killer is.

꒰ 🪼A/N: I swear I will make the Jinwoo vs Sylus soon as well as the sequel to the Assassin au. But as of now I'm still stuck in writer's block with those and I am still figuring out what to do with everything else. ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ — All stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[juniperdugong]

Relationship Quirks 96s ver.

Aka habits I can see the boys doing in a relationship || 95s || 96s || 97s || Maknae line ||

Junhui

Avoids foods you don't like or are allergic to

You thought it was weird when after you had mentioned that you were allergic or didn't like a certain food that you would never encounter it when you were with Jun. Of course, you would always avoid it but you knew Jun to not be that picky, in fact, he's quite an adventurous eater. So it just struck you as odd.

That is until you overhear him on the phone with the restaurant you guys were having a date at later tonight asking about the ingredients used in certain dishes and if {insert food here} was used. When you talk to him about this he casually says that he just wants to make sure that you eat well and like what you eat. (THE SWEETEST BOY IN THE WORLD)

Little do you know that he's started to exclude those foods from his diet as well, especially if it's an allergy you have. If it's a food you don't like then he doesn't want you to avoid kissing him if he's eaten it. BUT IF IT'S AN ALLERGY, red alert red alert, he thinks you'll go into anaphylactic shock if he eats something you're allergic to and then he touches/kisses you.

If you're not by his side when he's making decisions then it feels like the balance of the universe is off. Could be halfway across the world from each other and dude is calling you at 3am to ask which magnet he should bring home as a souvenir.

Hoshi

Needs your input on almost every decision he makes

Ooh it's bad, like looking at your parents when the doctor asks what your age is type of bad. He will know exactly what he wants at a restaurant but as soon as the waiter comes he's looking at you like a sheep and you have to mouth what he said he wanted seconds ago as he repeats you blindly. Almost all his decisions must have you're input or else he doesn't know what to do. This might be annoying to some but he values what you have to say so much. And honestly, if you disagree with something he takes it into genuine consideration and thinks about it a lot before making the final call.

His mindset can be summed up like this, "If y/n doesn't think I'll like that pasta then I probably won't like it, they know me very well."

Dude is clingy but not in a physical way... just in the way that he follows you around like a cat that wants your attention but can't say it. He does it unconsciously and to be honest it takes a mutual friend or one of the boys to point it out for either of y'all to notice. Truly it feels like he has to stay within a 30ft. radius of you sometimes.

Wonwoo

Follows you everywhere

The reason this behavior even started was because he missed you so much after tours and arduous schedules that he just HAD to be near you but he never wanted to initiate physical contact. (Being near you is enough for him) It's gotten to the point though that he ASSUMES you're taking him everywhere with you. You're upset and need "space"? Good luck! You'll be in another room for max 5mins before he's in there sitting the farthest possible distance he can while keeping you in sight.

"I can't do this right now, Wonwoo." "Fine then." "I'm going to my mom's place for a while." *Magically has both your suitcases and bags packed* "When are we leaving?"

I know I know... it's unexpected but true! The thing that I don't think a ton of carats realize is that this man does not fear affection AT ALL. He just doesn't like it in public displays. So in the privacy of his studio or at either of your homes, he is clingy, 100%.

Woozi

Needs to feel your touch

Has a computer chair that is specifically for you to be next to him while he's in the studio. If you're in the same room as him or HELL even the same building and there are no cameras or minimal people and you're not next to him then what even is the point? Might as well tell him you hate him or something, at least that's how he treats it.

The crazy part is that he doesn't even ask you for affection! He'll just say things out loud and expect you to get the message or he'll say things directly towards you but won't look in your direction. His number one phrase is, "I miss you..." all while you're feet away from him on the couch in the studio. You can be sitting in your designated chair BUT YOU DON'T HAVE YOUR LEGS DRAPED OVER HIS???? Suddenly, you hear a constant loop of "Damn, I miss my partner sooooo much, right now.", like sir? They're right there?

A/N: I am clinically insane over the 96 line. ALSO EVERYONE SAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO WONWOO!!!! (Even though it's literally 10pm and his day is nearly over) I'll try to have the next 2 parts out sometime tmrw. Stay sweet lovelies!! Reblogs and comments are like power surges for my writing so they are much appreciated!

TAGLIST (open): @bemybabiibish