#this is what happens when i have too much time on my hands

[harrysfolklore]

casual - ln4

summary: you’re in a situationship with lando norris, one that you know is going to break your heart, but you can’t seem to walk away. wc: 11.7k

folkie radio: i was about to scrap this entire fic bc i just didn’t like they way it was turning out but i finished it 😭 i’m still not really confident about it but i hope you enjoy it. disclaimer: this is angsty !!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

You and Lando. Lando and You. An undefined space, more than friends, less than a relationship. You remember it like it was yesterday, though almost a year has passed.

It started innocently enough. As a data analyst and strategist for McLaren, you often found yourself working late nights, poring over race statistics and performance metrics. Lando would sometimes wander into the office, restless after a day of simulations and meetings.

At first, your interactions were purely professional - discussing tire degradation rates or fuel consumption patterns. But gradually, conversations began to drift, getting more personal and personal.

The shift happened subtly. One night, after a particularly grueling race weekend, you were both exhausted, sprawled on the office couch analyzing data. Lando's head drooped onto your shoulder, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The air crackled with tension.

"We shouldn't," you murmured, even as you turned to face him.

"Probably not," Lando agreed, his blue eyes flickering to your lips.

The kiss was inevitable, months of built-up attraction finally finding release. And then came another, and another.

When Lando suggested heading back to his place, you found yourself saying yes without hesitation.

Before you knew it, you were in his apartment, you could feel the tension in the air. Lando stepped closer, his hand cupping your cheek.

"I've been wanting to do this for a while," he murmured, before leaning in to kiss you again.

Clothes were shed as you made your way to his bedroom, falling onto his bed in a tangle of limbs.

The next morning, sunlight streams through unfamiliar curtains, and you blink awake, momentarily disoriented. Lando's sleeping form beside you brings the memories of last night flooding back.

Lando stirs, his blue eyes meeting yours. "Morning," he mumbles, a shy smile playing on his lips. "So... that happened."

You nod, unsure of what to say. "It did."

An awkward silence stretches between you, the weight of the previous night settling in. You would be lying if you said that you didn't enjoy it. You did. You enjoyed it a lot. But you knew the implications of getting close with someone like Lando Norris.

"Look, Iast night was great," finally, Lando speaks. "But my life, my career... it's complicated."

"I understand," you reply, trying to hide the embarrassment on your face, "I mean, we're work colleges after all, it's complicated for me too."

"I'm not saying I regret this," he quickly adds, "I just... I can't offer you something else right now."

You take a deep breath, weighing your options. "So what are you offering?"

"Honestly? I don't know," Lando runs a hand through his tousled hair, "But I'd like to keep seeing you, if you're okay with... not defining things?"

And so begins, your undefined journey with Lando Norris. From that moment, your relationship existed in a grey area. At work, you maintained professionalism, but stolen glances, brushed hands and the way your clothes always ended up in his bedroom floor told a different story.

You know it's not ideal, to have a situationship with Lando Norris. Not when you know you could really fall for him and jeopardize your job. But at the same time, you can't walk away.

You love you job so much, and the fact that you're willing to shut the rest of the world away in order to focus on what you needed to do proved it.

As the Japanese Grand Prix weekend unfolded, you found yourself buried in work. The Suzuka circuit always presented challenges, and you were determined to give the team every advantage possible.

You were so engrossed in your data analysis that you barely noticed Lando enter the temporary office setup. His hand on your shoulder made you jump.

"Christ, Lando! You scared me," you exclaimed, pulling off your headphones.

He grinned, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes. "Come with me," he said, taking your hand and gently pulling you up.

"Lando, I'm in the middle of-"

"It can wait," he insisted, leading you out of the office and towards his driver's room.

Once inside, he closed the door and leaned against it, watching you with an intensity that made your heart race.

"I miss you," he said simply.

You felt a pang of guilt. It had been weeks since you'd had any real time alone together. "I've been busy," you replied, trying to keep your tone light.

"Busy doing what?" Lando raised an eyebrow.

"Coming up with strategies so you can win races, actually," you retorted, a hint of challenge in your voice.

"Oh really? And how's that going?" he stepped closer, a teasing glint in his eye.

"Well, if you'd stop distracting me," you tilted your chin up defiantly, "Maybe I could finish and you'd find out."

Lando chuckled, closing the distance between you. His hands found your waist, pulling you against him. "Maybe I like distracting you," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

You shivered involuntarily. "Lando..." you warned, but there was no real resistance in your voice.

"Tell me about these strategies," he said, his lips now trailing along your jawline. "How are you planning to make me faster?"

You struggled to maintain your train of thought as his touch sent sparks through your body. "Well," you managed, "I've been analyzing your cornering speeds and-"

Lando cut you off with a kiss, deep and passionate. When he pulled away, you were both breathless.

"Sorry," he grinned, not looking sorry at all. "You were saying?"

"You're impossible, you know that?"

Before he can even reply, you drag him for another kiss. His fingers tangled in your hair as he pulls you closer, your hands slid under his team shirt, tracing the lean muscles of his back.

When you broke apart, Lando's eyes were dark with desire.

"I thought I was the one who distracted you. Seems like you're just as needy as I am," he smirked, his voice low and teasing.

"Don't flatter yourself, Norris," you felt a blush creep up your cheeks, but matched his playful tone, "I'm just... thorough in my research."

Lando's laugh was warm against your neck as he pressed a kiss there. "Is that what we're calling it now?"

"We're not calling it a relationship, aren't we?" you blurted out before you could even think about it.

Lando's expression softened for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. But quickly, his trademark grin returned.

"Well, we're not calling it a relationship," he said, his tone light and teasing, "maybe we should call it a 'performance enhancement program'. You know, for the sake of the team."

You couldn't help but laugh, even as you felt a twinge in your chest at the casual deflection of the relationship topic. "Oh, is that what this is? And here I thought I was just your favorite data analyst."

"Oh, you definitely are," Lando murmured, leaning in for another kiss. "The very best at... analyzing my data."

You rolled your eyes at the innuendo but smiled despite yourself. "As tempting as it is to continue this 'program'," you said, gently pushing him back, "I really do need to get back to work. Those race strategies won't write themselves, you know."

"Fine, fine. Go make me faster on paper. But don't forget, I might need some hands-on analysis later."

"We'll see about that, hotshot," you replied, straightening your clothes and heading for the door. "Focus on your qualifying first."

It's late, well past midnight, when your phone buzzes with a text. You're still up, reviewing data from the day's practice sessions. The message is from Lando, of course.

"Room 507. Now. Please?"

You can't help but smile, imagining the impatience and desire behind those words. You type back:

"Demanding, aren't we? What if I'm busy?"

His reply comes quickly: "Busy with what? I know you're probably still working. Take a break. You deserve it.”

You laugh softly. "I deserve it, huh? Well, when you put it that way..."

"So you're coming?"

You pause, pretending to consider it, even though you both know you're already reaching for your room key. "I suppose I could spare a few minutes."

"There's my girl"

You slip out of your room, heart racing with anticipation. You've done this countless of times before, sneaking out of your hotel room to end up naked in Lando's, but you still felt like a teenage girl every single time.

The hotel corridor is quiet, your footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. You're so focused on reaching Lando's room that you almost collide with someone rounding the corner.

"Whoa, sorry!" You step back, then freeze as you realize it's Oscar, who looks equally surprised.

"Oh, hey. Bit late for a walk, isn't it?"

Your mind races, searching for a plausible excuse. "I, uh... couldn't sleep. Thought I'd grab some ice."

"Ice?" Oscar's brow furrows slightly, "At this hour?"

"Yeah, you know... for my water," you say lamely, cringing at how unconvincing you sound. "Helps me... think better. For work."

"Right," Oscar says slowly, clearly not buying it but too polite to press further. "Well, don't let me keep you from your... ice-enhanced thinking."

You force a laugh. "Thanks. Goodnight, Oscar."

As you hurry past him, you can feel his curious gaze on your back. You silently pray he doesn't mention this encounter to anyone else on the team.

One of the main reasons why you agreed to mess around with Lando without a label was exactly that, the fear of putting your job at risk. You worked hard for it, and you would never forgive yourself if you lost it due to getting in a relationship with one of the drivers.

Which lead you to getting in a goddamn situationship.

Finally reaching room 507, you knock softly. Lando opens the door almost immediately, pulling you inside with a grin.

"Took you long enough," he teases, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"Yeah, well, I just had to convince your teammate that I'm wandering the halls at 1 AM in search of ice. So thanks for that," you retort, but there's no real annoyance in your voice.

"You ran into Oscar?" Lando's eyes widen, "What did you tell him?"

"That I needed ice. For thinking."

"Ice for thinking?" he bursts out laughing. "That's the best you could come up with?"

"Hey, you try coming up with a believable excuse on the spot!" you protest, swatting his arm playfully.

"Fair enough," Lando concedes, still chuckling. "Now, where were we? I believe you were going to help me with some... performance analysis?"

As Lando leans in, your lips meet in a passionate kiss. The tension that's been building all day finally releases as you melt into his embrace. His hands roam your body, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens.

"I've been thinking about this all day," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

"Oh really?" you tease, running your fingers through his hair. "I thought you were supposed to be focusing on your lap times."

"Who says I can't do both?"

Lando's lips find your neck, trailing kisses along your jawline. You tilt your head back, a soft sigh escaping your lips. Your hands slide under his t-shirt, tracing his sides.

He guides you towards the bed, your bodies pressed close together. As the back of your knees hit the mattress, you fall back, pulling Lando with you. He hovers over you, his weight supported on his forearms.

"You're beautiful," he whispers, his eyes roaming your face.

You reach up to cup his cheek, drawing him down for another kiss. This one is slower, deeper, filled with unspoken emotions.

As things heat up, clothes start to come off. Lando's shirt is the first to go, followed quickly by yours. Skin meets skin, and the world narrows down to just the two of you, lost in each other's touch.

The night stretches on, filled with whispered words, soft moans, and the rustle of sheets. You can't help but think that this undefined thing with Lando is getting more complicated by the day but you decide that's a problem for future you to worry about.

After an exhausting triple header across three different countries, you finally have a well-deserved two-week break.

The past few races have been grueling, with long nights analyzing data and strategizing for each track. While you love your job, the intense schedule has left you drained. Now back home, you decide it's time to unwind and have some fun with your friends.

It's Friday evening, and you're getting ready for a girls' night out. Usually, you’d spend your Friday with Lando, but this time you were dying for a chance to let loose, dance with your friends and forget about work for a while. 

And maybe, forget about your little situationship, too.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, they say. Because as if on cue your phone starts buzzing with an incoming FaceTime call. Lando's name flashes on the screen.

You answer, propping the phone up on your dresser. "Hey, Lan," you greet him while still doing your makeup.

"Hey, you," he replies, his eyes widening slightly as he takes in your appearance. "Wow, you look hot. Are you going somewhere?"

You nod, turning back to the mirror to continue applying your eyeshadow. "Yep, heading out tonight. It's been ages since I've had a proper night out."

"Oh," Lando says, his tone curious. "Like, out out? Are you... um, going on a date or something?"

You can't help but smirk a little at his barely concealed interest. "Why, Lando Norris, are you fishing for information?" you tease. "I mean, I could be going on a date. We're not exclusive, after all."

Lando's expression falters for a moment before he catches himself, forcing a casual laugh. "No, no, of course not. I was just, you know, curious. Making conversation and all that."

You watch him in the phone screen, noticing how he's trying to play it cool but failing miserably. His jaw is tense, and he's fidgeting more than usual.

Taking pity on him, you decide to put him out of his misery. "Relax, Lando. It's just girls' night. After that triple header, I need to blow off some steam with my friends."

"Oh, right. Cool, cool," the relief on his face is palpable, "That sounds fun."

"Were you jealous, Norris?" you raise an eyebrow at him.

"Me? Jealous? Nah," he scoffs, but the slight blush creeping up his neck betrays him. "I mean, like you said, we're not... you know."

"Exclusive," you finish for him, feeling a familiar twinge in your chest at the word.

"Right," Lando nods, looking a bit uncomfortable. "Anyway, I hope you have a great time tonight. You deserve it after all the hard work these past few weeks."

"Thanks, Lan. I plan to."

"Call me if you need me to pick you up," Lando assures, making you smile softly. Maybe he actually cares about you, you think.

"Don't worry, I can handle myself."

Just as Lando was expecting, you call him around 2 AM, asking if he could come pick you up from the club.

He doesn’t think twice before he’s getting up, putting a hoodie on and grabbing his keys to leave the house.

His car pulls up outside the club about 15 minutes later. You make your way to the vehicle, sliding into the passenger seat with a giggle.

"Thanks for coming," you say, leaning towards him with a grin.

“Of course, love,” Lando looks you over, a playful smirk on his face. "Looks like someone had fun tonight."

“I did, but I missed you,” you say as he starts driving, you’re not sure if he’ll take you to your place or his, but you don’t want to sleep without him, "Oh! I have to tell you something,"

"Well do tell," he encourages, glancing at you with interest.

"There was this guy at the club," you begin, noticing how Lando's eyebrow quirks up. "He was really handsome, and he was flirting with me."

"Was he now?" Lando asks, his tone light but with an undercurrent of something else.

"Yup," you say, popping the 'p' sound. "I pushed him away. Because even though you might not be my boyfriend, I only want you. No one else."

Lando's lips curl into a pleased smile. "Is that so?" he says, his voice low and teasing. "And here I thought I was just your favorite Uber driver."

You burst into laughter, the sound filling the car. Then, feeling bold, you place your hand on his thigh. "Will you sleep with me tonight?"

Lando doesn't even flinch. Instead, he shoots you a mischievous look. "Just like that? Usually, I at least buy you dinner first."

You groan, moving your hand from his thigh but he quickly catches it and kisses your palm before resting it there again, “Of course I’ll stay with you, baby.”

As you arrive home, Lando helps you inside, his arm steady around your waist. You stumble a bit, giggling as you lean into him.

"Careful there," he says, "Let's get you sorted, shall we?"

He guides you to the kitchen, one hand on the small of your back. You hop onto a barstool, watching as he moves around your kitchen with surprising familiarity.

"Let's get some water in you," he says, filling a large glass. "And maybe some food too. When's the last time you ate?"

You scrunch your nose, trying to remember. "Um... before we went out? I think?"

Lando shakes his head, a fond smile on his face. "No wonder you're in this state. Drink this," he hands you the water, "and I'll make you a sandwich."

You sip the water obediently, watching him as he rummages through your fridge. "You don't have to do all this, you know," you say softly.

"I want to," he looks up at you, his eyes soft. "Let me take care of you, yeah?"

As you finish your water, he slides a plate with a sandwich in front of you. "Eat up, pretty girl. It'll help sober you up."

You take a bite, suddenly realizing how hungry you are. As you eat, Lando leans against the counter, watching you with amusement and something else you can't quite name.

"So," he says casually, "tell me about this handsome guy at the club."

You swallow your bite, looking up at him. "Jealous, Norris?"

"Just curious," he shrugs, a smirk playing at his lips. "You said you pushed him away?"

You nod, setting down the sandwich. "I did. He was nice, but... he wasn't you."

The words hang in the air between you, heavy with implication. Lando's eyes sparkle, but he doesn't say anything.

You slide off the barstool and step closer to him. Your hands find his chest and you lean in, pressing your lips to his. He kisses back, his hands settling on your waist, pulling you closer. The kiss deepens, and you feel a warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the alcohol.

But then Lando pulls away gently, resting his forehead against yours. "Let's go to sleep, pretty girl," he says, his voice low and a bit rough. "You need rest."

You pout, your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. "But I want you," you whisper, leaning in so your lips are inches from his.

"And you can have me," he says softly, cupping your face with one hand. "But right now we're going to sleep."

You start to protest, but he silences you with a gentle kiss on the forehead. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

As he leads you to the bedroom, Lando's mind is in turmoil. He's acutely aware of the growing feelings he has for you - feelings that go far beyond the casual arrangement you've had so far. The way his heart races when you're near, the constant urge to make you smile, the fierce protectiveness he feels - it all points to something deeper, that both thrills and terrifies him.

But with these feelings comes a familiar fear. Commitment has always been hard for him. The demands of his career, the pressure of the public eye, the fear of letting someone down - they all contribute to his hesitation. And yet, as he looks at you now, soft and vulnerable in his arms, he can't help but wonder if you might be worth the risk.

In the bedroom, he helps you change into comfortable sleepwear. As you both lay down, you curl into his side, your head on his chest. The steady beat of his heart is soothing, and you feel yourself starting to drift off.

"Lando?" you ask, your voice sleepy.

"Hmm?" His hand is running through your hair, the gesture comforting.

"Do you push away the beautiful girls that come up to flirt with you? Like I did tonight?"

You feel his chest rise with a deep breath. There's a pause before he answers, "I do," he says softly. "There's only one girl I'm interested in."

You lift your head slightly, trying to look at him through heavy-lidded eyes. "Really? Who's that?"

He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest. "I think you know, pretty girl."

You're fighting sleep now, but you're determined to get an answer. "Well, I don't believe you," you mumble, the words slurring together. "Prove it."

Lando opens his mouth to reply, but he realizes you're already asleep, your breathing evening out. He looks down at you, a fond smile on his face. Pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, he whispers, "Maybe I'll show you soon."

The Hungarian Grand Prix has just concluded, and the atmosphere in the McLaren garage is torn between elation and tension.

Oscar has claimed his first Formula 1 victory, a monumental achievement for him and the team. However, the circumstances of his win have left a bitter taste in Lando's mouth, casting a shadow over what should have been a moment of pure celebration for everyone.

You're standing off to the side, your mind racing. The strategy call wasn't yours directly, but as part of the team, you can't help feeling partly responsible for the decision that affected both drivers.

As Lando storms into the garage, his face like thunder, you brace yourself for the fallout. His usual easy-going demeanor is nowhere to be seen, replaced by a storm of anger and disappointment. You've seen Lando upset before, but this felt different.

"Lando," you start, reaching out to him, your voice soft and tentative.

"Save it," he snaps, his blue eyes flashing with anger as he brushes past you. The coldness in his voice makes you flinch. "I don't want to hear it. Not from you, not from anyone."

For the rest of the day, Lando avoids you like the plague. You take separate flights home so you don't really see him or hear from him after you left the circuit.

Over the next few days, you try reaching out via text, each message more desperate than the last. But they go unanswered, each 'read' receipt another twist of the knife. This isn't like Lando, to shut everyone out so completely. You can't help but wonder if this is about more than just the race.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, you decide to go to his place. It's a risky move, you know, but the thought of leaving things like this is unbearable. Using the spare key he gave you months ago - a gesture that had felt so significant at the time - you let yourself in.

The apartment is quiet, but not empty. You can feel his presence, sense the tension in the air.

"Lando?" you call out, your voice echoing slightly in the silent space.

You hear movement from his bedroom, and soon enough he emerges, dressed to go out, and freezes when he sees you. His expression hardens, the warmth you're used to seeing in his eyes replaced by a cold, distant look. "What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk, Lando," you say, your voice firm despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. "You can't just shut me out like this. It's not fair, and it's not right."

"I don't have time for this right now," Lando's jaw clenches, his gaze darting away from yours, "I'm heading out."

"Of course you are," you say, unable to keep the bitterness from your voice. "Because going out and partying is so much easier than facing your problems, isn't it?"

His eyes narrow, a spark of anger igniting, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're running away," you say, taking a step closer. "From the race, from the team, from me. We're all just trying to do our best, Lando. The team made a call, and it worked out for the best. Why can't you see that?"

"Because it wasn't the best for me!" Lando explodes, his composure finally cracking. "Do you have any idea what it's like? To have victory in your grasp and then have it taken away? To be told that you're not good enough, that your teammate is the better choice?"

"That's not what happened, and you know it," you argue back, your own frustration bubbling over. "It was a strategic decision, not a judgment on your abilities. You're letting your ego cloud your judgment."

"My ego?" Lando's laugh is harsh and humorless, "That's rich, coming from someone who's never had to make these kinds of sacrifices."

The words hang in the air between you, sharp and cutting. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside you. You's never had an argument like this before.

"Fine," you say finally, your voice quiet but firm. "Go out if that's what you want. But don't call me when you're feeling lonely later tonight. I'm not just some convenient comfort for when you decide you need me."

Something flashes in Lando's eyes – hurt, perhaps, or regret. But it's quickly replaced by a hardness that makes your heart ache.

"Don't worry," he retorts, his voice cold. "I can always find another girl to keep me company. I don't need you for that."

The words hit you like a physical blow, and you take an involuntary step back. The undefined nature of your relationship, once thrilling in its potential, now feels like a weapon being used against you.

"Is that what this is to you?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Just a convenient arrangement? Someone to warm your bed when you can't find anyone else?"

Lando's expression softens for a moment, regret flickering across his features. But he doesn't take back his words. Instead, he turns away, his hand on the front door.

"You know your way out." And with that, he's out of the door.

A week later, Formula 1 has moved to the iconic Spa-Francorchamps circuit in Belgium. The air is thick with anticipation - not just for the upcoming race, but for the looming summer break that follows.

You've thrown yourself into your work, burying your emotions under a mountain of data analysis and strategy planning. The tension between you and Lando hasn't gone unnoticed by the team, but thankfully, everyone's too focused on the upcoming race to pry.

You haven't spoke to Lando after your argument at his place, and you blocked his number, leaving him unable to contact you.

As you make your way through the paddock, your arms full of printouts and your mind racing with tire degradation calculations, you spot a familiar figure approaching. Lando, clad in his McLaren team shirt, is walking purposefully in your direction. Your heart rate spikes, and you quickly duck into a nearby hospitality area, pretending to be engrossed in conversation with a group of engineers.

This dance continues throughout the day. Lando tries to catch your eye during the team briefing, but you keep your gaze fixed on your tablet. He lingers near your station in the garage, but you find urgent errands that take you elsewhere. It's exhausting, this game of cat and mouse, but you're not ready to face him - not yet.

As the day winds down, you're making your final rounds, double-checking that everything is set for tomorrow's practice sessions. The paddock is quieter now, most team members having retired for the evening.

You're so focused on your checklist that you don't notice the approaching footsteps until it's too late.

"We need to talk," Lando's voice, firm and tinged with frustration, breaks the silence.

You spin around and Lando stands before you, his blue eyes intense and determined. He's changed out of his team shirt into a simple t-shirt and jeans, his hair slightly tousled as if he's been running his hands through it.

"Lando, I-" you begin, but he cuts you off.

"No, don't give me another excuse," he says, stepping closer. "We've been dancing around each other all day. Enough is enough."

Before you can protest, he gently but firmly takes your arm and starts guiding you towards the McLaren motorhome. You could resist, but something in his tone, a note of desperation perhaps, makes you comply.

The motorhome is quiet and dimly lit as Lando leads you inside and up to the second level where the drivers have their private areas. He ushers you into his room, closing the door behind you.

The space is unmistakably Lando's - a gaming setup in one corner, a few personal photos tacked to a board, his race suit hanging neatly on a hook. The familiarity of it all makes your heart ache.

Lando runs a hand through his hair, pacing for a moment before turning to face you.

"I'm sorry," he blurts out, the words tumbling from his lips as if he's afraid he'll lose his nerve if he doesn't say them immediately. "I'm so sorry for how I acted, for what I said. It was awful, and you didn't deserve any of it."

You stand there, arms crossed, trying to maintain your composure even as a lot of emotions overwhelm you. "You were an asshole, Lando," you say quietly.

"I know," he nods, "I was angry and frustrated, but that's no excuse. I took it out on you when you were just trying to help." He takes a step closer, his eyes pleading. "I've been miserable this past week. I missed you so much, and the thought that I might have ruined everything between us… it's been killing me."

Despite your best efforts to stay strong, you feel your resolve weakening. You're weak when it comes to him, and you're pretty sure he knows it.

"I missed you too," you admit softly. "But Lando, we can't keep doing this. We can't just pretend everything's fine and then lash out at each other when things get tough."

"I know, I know," Lando nods eagerly. "I want to do better. I want to be better," he pauses for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor before meeting your eyes again. "And I didn't go home with anyone that night, by the way,"

You furrow your brow, momentarily confused by the seemingly random statement. Then, like a flash, you remember his cruel words from that night in his house.

As you laid in bed the night of the argument, you couldn't help but wonder if Lando had gone home with someone else, and if that was how it worked when you were not there.

And it hurt more that you ever thought possible.

"Oh," you respond, aiming for nonchalance but not quite hitting the mark. "That's… I mean, you didn't have to tell me that. It's not like we're…"

You trail off, unsure how to finish that sentence. What are you, exactly?

Lando takes a step closer, his blue eyes intense as they lock with yours. "I know I don't have to tell you," he says, his voice low and earnest. "But I want you to know. I only want you to keep me company, not anyone else."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. But almost immediately, a more cynical part of your mind chimes in. He wants you, but he doesn't want to be in a relationship with you. He wants the comfort, the intimacy, but not the commitment.

"Lando, I…" you begin, but the words catch in your throat. You want to ask for clarification, to define what this is between you, but fear holds you back.

Lando seems to sense your inner turmoil. He reaches out, gently taking your hand in his. "I know I messed up," he says softly. "And I know things between us are… complicated. But I mean what I said. You're the only one I want."

You look down at your joined hands, then back up at Lando's face. Despite despite the voice in your head warning you to be careful, you feel yourself giving in. The pull is too strong, the desire to be with him overpowering your rational mind.

"Okay," you whisper, squeezing his hand.

Lando's face breaks into a relieved smile, his eyes lighting up. He pulls you into another embrace, holding you close. You allow yourself to sink into his warmth, pushing your doubts to the back of your mind for now.

When you finally pull apart, Lando's expression is soft, almost reverent. "Are we good?" he asks, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

You take a deep breath, considering the question. Are you good? There's still so much left unsaid, so many questions unanswered. But looking at Lando, feeling the comfort of his presence, you can't bring yourself to disrupt this moment of peace between you.

"Yes," you say, managing a small smile. "We're good."

The early morning sunlight filters through the curtains of Lando's Monaco apartment. You stir slowly, consciousness creeping in as you become aware of the warm body next to you. Opening your eyes, you're greeted by the sight of Lando's peaceful sleeping face, his features relaxed and vulnerable in a way they rarely are when he's awake.

It's been two weeks since your conversation in the motorhome at Spa, and true to form, you and Lando had fallen back into your familiar rhythm without missing a beat. The race weekend had gone well, with both McLarens finishing in the points, and you'd flown to Monaco with Lando for the first part of the summer break without a second thought.

As you watch Lando sleep, you can't help but feel that being here with him feels right in a way that's hard to describe. You know that this thing between you, whatever it is, is a ticking time bomb if you don't define it soon. But every time you think about approaching the subject, fear holds you back.

So you've chosen to ignore it, to live in this blissful bubble for as long as you can. You tell yourself that you'll deal with it later, after the summer break, after the next race, after the season ends. There's always a reason to put it off.

Lando begins to stir, his eyelids fluttering open. When his gaze focuses on you, a slow, sleepy smile spreads across his face. "Morning, beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky with sleep.

"Morning," you reply softly, unable to help the smile that mirrors his.

Lando reaches out, his hand cupping your cheek as he leans in for a kiss. It starts soft and sweet, but quickly deepens as he pulls you closer. His other hand trails down your side, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You sigh into the kiss, your own hands exploring the familiar planes of his chest and back.

As things start to heat up, Lando rolls you onto your back, hovering over you. His lips leave yours to trail kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You arch into him, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Just as things are about to progress further, there's a sharp knock at the front door.

"Ignore it," Lando whispers, leaning in to capture your lips again.

You lose yourself in the kiss for a moment before another, more insistent knock breaks through. Lando groans in frustration, dropping his forehead to your shoulder.

"I should probably see who that is," he sighs, reluctantly pulling away.

You watch as he gets out of bed, admiring the view as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants before heading downstairs.

Curious about who could be visiting so early, you decide to follow after a few minutes. You grab Lando's discarded t-shirt from the night before, pulling it on. It falls to mid-thigh, long enough to be decent for a quick peek downstairs.

As you descend the stairs, you hear familiar voices from the entryway. Your heart drops as you recognize the second voice - it's Max Verstappen. Panic sets in as you realize the compromising position you're in, but it's too late. You've already rounded the corner, coming face to face with both drivers.

For a moment, everything freezes. You stand there, a deer caught in headlights, wearing nothing but Lando's shirt. Max's eyes widen in surprise, darting between you and Lando. Lando looks equally shocked, clearly not expecting you to come downstairs.

Mortified, you turn on your heel and bolt back upstairs, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. As you retreat, you hear Max's voice, tinged with amusement and surprise.

"Dude, isn't that one of your strategists?"

You don't hear Lando's response as you shut the bedroom door behind you. This is exactly the kind of situation you'd been afraid of, the reason why leaving things undefined was so dangerous.

Downstairs, the conversation continues.

"Yeah, she is," Lando admits, running a hand through his hair nervously.

"Wow, okay," Max lets out a low whistle, "So… how long has this been going on? Please tell me it's recent and not, like, during the season or something."

Lando hesitates for a moment before answering. "It's… been a while actually. Over a year."

"A YEAR?!" Max exclaims, his voice rising in disbelief. "Lando, mate, are you serious? You've been hooking up with a team member for over a year and nobody knew?"

"It's not just hooking up," Lando defends, though his voice lacks conviction. "It's… complicated."

"Complicated?" Max raises an eyebrow, "Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen if you ask me. Does the team know?"

"No," Lando shakes his head, "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything. It's not affecting our work, so no one needs to know."

"Hey, not my circus, not my monkeys," Max holds up his hands in surrender, "But seriously, Lando, be careful. This kind of thing can blow up in your face if you're not careful."

They exchange a few more words before Max takes his leave, reminding Lando about their plans for later in the week. As soon as the door closes behind Max, Lando bounds up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

He finds you in the bedroom, already dressed in own clothes. You're pacing nervously, chewing on your bottom lip - a habit he knows you fall into when you're anxious.

"Hey," he says softly, approaching you cautiously. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't expect Max to show up unannounced."

You stop pacing, turning to face him. "It's fine," you say, but your voice is tight. "I should go."

"What? No, please don't go," Lando's face falls, "Max won't say anything, I promise. He may be a bit of a prat sometimes, but he can keep a secret."

"I'll just have a walk around the harbor, I'll be back," you say as you grab your phone from the nightstand.

"But why?" Lando asks, a note of panic creeping into his voice. "Is this because Max saw you? I swear, it's not a big deal."

"I'll meet you for lunch, okay? you say softly, avoiding Lando's gaze.

"Okay," he replies simply, not pushing for more.

Without further conversation, you gather your belongings and head for the door. Feeling more conflicted than ever before.

After Max caught you together in Monaco, you stayed a few more days with Lando before reluctantly going back home, and he took on a trip with his family. You don't really see him for the rest of the summer break, until he showed up at your place two weeks before it was time to get back to work.

"So," Lando says as you laid in bed, "ready to go back to being all professional and proper soon, Ms. Strategist?"

"Oh, I'm always professional, Norris. It's you who can't keep your eyes off me during briefings."

"Me? Lando gasps in mock offense, "I'll have you know I'm the picture of focus and concentration."

"Sure," you drawl, "That's why you kept 'accidentally' brushing against me in the garage."

He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Can you blame me? You're irresistible when you're talking about tire strategies."

You laugh, pushing him away playfully, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his proximity. "Smooth talker. Is that how you charm all the girls?"

"Nah," he grins, pulling you back towards him. "Just the brilliant, beautiful ones who can calculate pit stop windows in their sleep."

Your breath catches as he nuzzles your neck, his stubble tickling your skin. For a moment, you consider bringing up the conversation you've been avoiding all summer. "Lando," you murmur, "we should probably talk about-"

He silences you with a kiss, deep and passionate. "Or," he says, his eyes dark with desire, "we could make the most of our night."

You know you should resist, that you should have that conversation you've been avoiding. But as Lando's hands start to wander, you find your resolve weakening, as always.

You don't really hear from Lando after that night. He says goodbye after breakfast the following day, and then it's radio silence.

You try not to think too much of it, the break is coming to an end and he has responsibilities and work to go, it's not personal, you try to convince yourself.

But your mind can't help but wander. Is he with someone else? Is he avoiding you? Did you make him upset and you failed to notice?

But you don't dare to bring it up to him. He's not your boyfriend, after all.

The transition back to work after the summer break is jarring. The McLaren Technology Centre buzzes with activity as everyone prepares for the upcoming race. You're immediately swept up in meetings, data analysis, and strategy sessions. Despite working in the same building, you and Lando barely cross paths for days. The few times you do see him from afar, he's always surrounded by engineers or caught up in simulator work.

Finally, the team arrives at Zandvoort Circuit for the Dutch Grand Prix. The atmosphere of the paddock envelops you as you make your way to the McLaren garage, your arms full of strategy documents and your mind racing with last-minute considerations for the race.

As you approach, you spot Lando and Oscar chatting animatedly near the entrance. Your heart does a little flip at the sight of Lando, and you can't help but smile. You've missed him more than you care to admit.

"Morning, boys," you call out, aiming for a casual tone as you near them.

They both turn, matching grins spreading across their faces. "Hey there, stranger," Lando says, his eyes twinkling with that familiar mischief that never fails to make your stomach flutter.

Oscar, ever the gentleman, moves to take some of the papers from your arms. "Let me help you with those. How was your break?"

You smile gratefully, handing him a stack of documents. "Thanks, Oscar. It was lovely, very relaxing. How about yours?"

As Oscar launches into a story about his time back home in Australia and his trip with his girlfriend, you can't help but steal glances at Lando.

He looks good - tanned and relaxed, with a hint of stubble that you know from experience feels delightfully rough against your skin. You quickly push that thought aside, reminding yourself of where you are.

"Oh, that reminds me," Oscar says suddenly, turning to Lando with a sly grin. "How did that lunch go the other day? With Emma?"

You feel your body tense involuntarily. Lunch? Emma? Who's Emma?

Lando's eyes widen slightly, and he shoots a quick glance your way before looking back at Oscar. "Oh, uh, it was fine. Just a casual thing, you know."

But Oscar, oblivious to the sudden tension, presses on. "Come on, mate, don't be modest. Emma told Lily it went really well. Said you two really hit it off."

You feel as if all the air has been sucked out of your lungs. The documents in your arms suddenly feel impossibly heavy.

Lando runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit you've come to recognize. "It wasn't… I mean, it was just lunch, Oscar. Don't make a big deal out of it."

"I'm just saying," Oscar continues, still grinning, "she seems really into you. Might be worth giving it a shot, yeah? It's about time you settled down with someone nice."

You can't bear to hear any more. "I should get these to the engineers," you mutter, already turning away. "See you guys later."

As you walk away, you hear Lando call out your name, but you don't stop. You can't stop. If you stop, you might fall apart right there in the middle of the paddock.

You make it to the back of the garage before you hear rapid footsteps behind you. "Hey, wait up," Lando's voice comes from behind you, slightly out of breath.

You turn slowly, trying to school your features into a neutral expression. "What is it, Lando? I'm kind of busy."

He looks at you, his eyes searching your face. "About what Oscar said… it's not what you think."

"What do I think, Lando?" you raise an eyebrow, fighting to keep your voice steady. "We never defined what this is, remember? You're free to have lunch with whoever you want."

"It was just a favor for Oscar," Lando steps closer, lowering his voice. "His girlfriend's friend is new in town, and they asked if I'd show her around. That's all it was, I swear."

You want to believe him. God, how you want to believe him. But the memory of those blissful days during the summer break, followed by days of silence and now this… it's too much.

"Look, Lando," you say, hating how your voice wavers slightly, "we both knew this couldn't last. We have jobs to do, careers to think about. Maybe… maybe this is for the best."

"What? No, that's not…" Lando starts, reaching for your arm, but you step back.

"I really need to get these to the engineers," you say, gesturing with the documents still clutched to your chest like a shield. "We should both focus on the race this weekend. That's what we're here for, right?"

Without waiting for a response, you turn and walk away, your vision blurring slightly as you blink back tears. You can feel Lando's gaze boring into your back, but you don't turn around. You can't.

As you round the corner, out of sight from the main garage, you lean against the wall for a moment, taking deep breaths to compose yourself. The rational part of your brain knows you're overreacting, that you should hear Lando out. But the emotional part, the part that's been dreading this moment since this situationship began, is in full fight or flight mode.

With one final deep breath, you push off the wall and head towards the engineering room, burying your personal turmoil beneath layers of race strategy and tire calculations. Lando Norris was consuming every part of you.

The tension between you and Lando remains palpable throughout the race weekend. You both maintain focused on your jobs, but there's a hint that something is not right with you.

The truth is, your situation with Lando has been consuming you for weeks now. What started as a casual arrangement has grown into something much deeper, at least for you.

The more time you spend with Lando, the harder you fall for him. And it's terrifying. Being casual isn't enough anymore; it hasn't been for a while. You've reached a point where you don't think you can continue this way. The pain of loving him in secret, of always being on the edge of something more but never quite reaching it, is becoming unbearable. You need clarity, commitment - or you need to walk away before you lose yourself completely.

To make matters more complicated, Lando wins the race at Zandvoort, securing his second victory of the season—one he had been craving since Miami. Your heart breaks even more as you realize you can't even celebrate this moment with him properly. Watching him on the podium, champagne in hand and pure joy radiating from his face, you feel like crying right there.

You want to run to him, throw yourself into his arms and celebrate with him, tell him how proud you feel and how much he deserves this. But you can't, not until whatever is going on between you gets sorted out.

It's not until after the race, when the celebrations cool down and the team begins to pack up, that Lando finally corners you in a quiet moment.

"Can we talk?" he asks, his voice low and urgent. "Please?"

You hesitate, glancing around the garage. Most of the team is busy with post-race duties, paying you no attention. With a sigh, you nod and follow Lando to a more secluded area behind the motorhome.

"First of all, congratulations on the win. You really deserve it," you say as soon as you're alone, trying to keep your voice steady.

Lando gives you a bittersweet smile. "Thanks, but that's not what occupies my mind right now," he replies, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that makes your heart race, "I don't understand what happened back there. Why won't you believe me about Oscar's friend?"

You cross your arms, a defensive posture you're all too aware of. "It's not just about her, Lando. It's… everything."

"What do you mean, everything?" he asks, brow furrowed.

"I mean this whole situation," you take a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts, "I thought I could handle it, but…"

"But what?" Lando steps closer, his voice softening, "Talk to me, please."

"But it's getting harder," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "Every time I see you with someone else, every time we have to pretend there's nothing between us, it hurts a little more."

Lando reaches for your hand, and this time you don't pull away. "You're the only one I want," he says earnestly. "You have to know that."

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. "You always say that, Lando. But you still won't fully commit to me. It's hard to believe it when you won't put a label on us, when you go out with other women-"

"That wasn't a date," Lando interrupts, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "I told you, it was just a favor for Oscar."

"I know, I know," you say, pulling your hand away and running it through your hair. "But that's not the point. The point is, I don't know where I stand with you. We've been doing this dance for over a year now, and I still don't know what we are to each other."

"I thought you were okay with this. With us staying without a label. You agreed to keep things casual."

"I was okay with it," you turn away, blinking back tears. "But it's not enough anymore. At least, not for me."

There's a long moment of silence. When you turn back, Lando is staring at the ground, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

"What are you saying?" he asks finally, his voice small.

"I'm saying that I can't do this anymore, Lando," you say firmly, "I want more. I need more."

"We agreed it was too complicted," Lando looks up at you, his eyes wide and vulnerable, "That we couldn't be in a relationship."

"I know what we agreed," you say, your voice cracking slightly. "But feelings change. People change. I've changed, Lando. And I can't keep putting my heart on hold for a someday that might never come."

Lando steps forward, reaching for you again. "Please, don't do this. We can figure it out. I'll try to be more open about us. We can tell our friends."

You shake your head, cutting him off. "It's not just about telling people, Lando. It's about commitment. It's about knowing that when I go home at night, I'm not just someone in your bed. It's about building a future together, not just living for the moment."

"I don't know if I can give you that. Not right now," Lando's face falls. "My career is at a great point, and-"

"And mine isn't?" you interrupt, a flash of anger cutting through your sadness. "Do you think I'm not risking just as much as you are? If not more? But I'm willing to take that risk because what we have… what we could have… it's worth it to me."

You watch as emotions play across Lando's face - confusion, fear, longing. Finally, he speaks, his voice barely audible. "I don't want to lose you."

Your heart aches, but you stand your ground. "Then give me a reason to stay, Lando. Show me that I'm more than just a convenient distraction between races."

Lando opens his mouth to respond, but you hold up a hand to stop him. "Don't answer now. Think about it. Really think about what you want. Because I can't keep going on like this. It's not fair to either of us."

With that, you turn and walk away, leaving Lando standing alone behind the motorhome. As you make your way back to the garage, you can feel the weight of unshed tears burning behind your eyes. But you don't let them fall. Not here, not now.

You've laid your cards on the table. Now it's up to Lando to decide what he's willing to do with them.

The Monza race weekend flies by in a whirlwind of noise and action. You keep yourself busy, diving deep into numbers and race plans to avoid thinking about your feelings. It's easier to focus on tire strategies and pit stop timings than to deal with the ache in your chest every time you see Lando.

When you do have to talk to Lando, you both act normal and professional. But there's a tension in the air between you, like a tight rubber band ready to snap. You catch others giving you worried looks sometimes, and it makes you feel even more on edge.

Lando has not given you any kind of response to your talk in Zandvoort, and it's been just a week, but you feel like you know his answer. He's not willing to give you what you ask for. And it hurts, more than you can say.

As Sunday night gets closer, whispers of Carlos Sainz's birthday celebration begin to circulate through the paddock. You know Lando will definitely go - he and Carlos are really close friends. A small part of you wishes you could go too. You imagine laughing with your coworkers, having a drink, and forgetting about all the drama for a while.

But then you think about seeing Lando there. You picture having to smile and act like everything's fine when it's not. The thought of making awkward small talk with him, or worse, seeing him chatting happily with someone else, makes your stomach churn. It feels like too much to handle right now.

In the end, the thought of facing Lando and all those people is just too much. You decide to skip the party, even though a part of you feels guilty and a bit left out. But the relief you feel at making this decision tells you it's the right choice for now.

As the sun begins to set after the race and everyone gets ready for the party, you retreat to your hotel room. You order room service – a plate of pasta that you barely touch – and settle in for a quiet evening alone. You try to lose yourself in a book, but the words blur on the page, your mind constantly wandering to thoughts of Lando. Is he at the party now? Is he having fun? Is he thinking of you at all?

Meanwhile, at Carlos' birthday celebration, Lando finds himself struggling to enjoy the party. He mingles half-heartedly, his laugh a beat too late, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He can't help but scan the room periodically, hoping against hope that you might have changed your mind and decided to come.

Max, observant as ever and knowing his friend too well, notices Lando's distraction and pulls him aside.

"You alright, mate?" Max asks, "You look like you'd rather be anywhere but here."

Lando sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Is it that obvious?"

Max nods, taking a sip of his drink. "Want to talk about it?"

For a moment, Lando considers brushing it off, but the weight of the past week suddenly feels too heavy to bear alone. "It's about her," he admits quietly.

Max doesn't need to ask who 'her' is. By now he knows the situation his friend is caught up in, "Trouble in paradise?" he asks.

"More like paradise lost," Lando lets out a humorless laugh, "I think I really messed up, Max. I was so worried about keeping things casual, about not complicating our working relationship, that I didn't realize how fucked up the whole thing was."

"So what are you going to do about it?" Max asks.

Lando looks around the room, at the laughing faces and clinking glasses, and suddenly feels very out of place. "I don't know. I just know I can't be here right now. Not when things are like this between us."

"Then go," he says simply. "Go find her. Talk to her. Life's too short for regrets, especially in our line of work."

Lando looks at Max, a hint of his usual playful smile returning despite the situation. "When did you become so wise, Verstappen? Did all those championship trophies finally knock some sense into you?"

"Someone has to be the voice of reason around here," Max rolls his eyes, but there's a fond smile on his face, "Now go on, get out of here before Carlos finds you and makes you stay, I'll distract him."

"Thanks, Max. I owe you one," Lando chuckles, patting his back.

"You owe me several, but who's counting?" Max grins, clapping Lando on the shoulder. "Now go get your girl."

With a newfound sense of purpose, Lando slips out of the party. His heart pounds as he makes his way to your hotel, not even sure if you would want to talk to him.

When he's finally standing in front of you door, he knocks softly, hope and fear warring in his chest as he waits for you to answer.

You're curled up on the bed, still trying and failing to focus on your book, when you hear the knock. Confused, you glance at the clock - it's barely past 10 PM. The party should still be in full swing. Who could be at your door?

As you pad over to the door and peer through the peephole, your breath catches in your throat. It's Lando, looking slightly disheveled, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

You hesitate, your hand on the doorknob. Part of you wants to fling the door open and throw yourself into his arms. But another part, the part that's been hurt and confused for the past week, holds you back.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you slowly open the door, trying to keep your expression neutral despite the emotions inside you.

"Lando?" you say, trying to sound calm even though your heart is racing. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be at Carlos' party."

Lando looks a bit messy, like he rushed over. He shifts from foot to foot, looking nervous. "I was," he says. "But I couldn't stay. Not when you weren't there."

You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms. You're trying to protect yourself, even though you want to believe him. "You left your best friend's birthday party early because of me?"

Lando nods, looking right at you. His eyes are so intense it makes your heart beat even faster. "Can I come in? I think we need to talk."

You hesitate for a moment. You're scared of getting hurt again, but you also really want to hear what he has to say, even if it breaks your heart. Finally, you step back and let him in.

As he passes by, you catch a whiff of his cologne mixed with the faint scent of the paddock - a combination that's uniquely Lando and achingly familiar.

Lando walks into the room, running a hand through his hair. "I've been doing a lot of thinking this past week," he begins, turning to face you. "About us."

Your heart starts to race, but you force yourself to remain calm. "And?" you prompt, when he doesn't continue.

"And you were right. About everything," Lando takes a deep breath, "I've been so focused on not complicating things, that I didn't realize how much I was hurting you.”

"Lando, I-"

"Please, let me finish," Lando interrupts you softly, "The truth is, I've been scared. Terrified, actually. Of commitment, of letting someone in completely, of potentially damaging our careers if things went wrong. But this past week without you… it's been hell", he takes a step closer to you, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "I've dated before, had relationships, but nothing has ever felt like this. What we have… it's different. Special. And I've been an idiot for not seeing it sooner."

Your breath catches in your throat as Lando continues, his words coming faster now, as if he's afraid he'll lose his nerve if he doesn't get them all out. "I kept telling myself that keeping things casual was the smart thing to do. That it was protecting both of us. But all I've done is push you away and make you doubt how much you mean to me."

He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture you've seen him do countless times when he's nervous or frustrated. "The truth is, I'm crazy about you. I think about you all the time. When something good happens, you're the first person I want to tell. When something goes wrong, you're the one I want to turn to. And it scares the hell out of me because I've never felt this way about anyone before."

Your heart is pounding so hard you're sure Lando must be able to hear it. You want to speak, to tell him how much his words mean to you, but you can see he's not finished yet.

"I know I've messed up. I know I've hurt you by not being clear about my feelings, by not giving you the commitment you deserve. And I'm so, so sorry for that," Lando's voice cracks slightly, and you can see the sincerity in his eyes. "But if you're willing to give me another chance, I want to do this right. No more hiding, no more pretending we're just casual. I want to be with you, properly. I want to tell our friends, take you on proper dates. I want everything."

He takes another step closer, close enough now that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. "I can't promise it'll be easy. Our careers, the media attention, the travel - it's all going to be complicated. But I'm willing to fight for this, for us, if you are."

You stand there, momentarily stunned by Lando's words. Your mind is racing, trying to process everything he's just said. You've dreamed of hearing something like this from him for so long, but now that it's happening, you find yourself almost paralyzed.

Taking a shaky breath, you finally find your voice. "Lando, I… I don't know what to say. This is everything I've wanted to hear from you, but I'm scared too. What if we try this and it doesn't work out? What if we end up ruining our friendship, our work relationship?"

Lando's hand finally makes contact with your cheek, his touch impossibly gentle. "Those are all valid fears," he says softly. "And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried about the same things. But I think what we have is worth the risk. Don't you?"

You lean into his touch, your eyes closing for a moment as you savor the feeling. When you open them again, you see Lando looking at you with such tenderness it makes your heart ache.

"I do," you whisper. "I really do. But Lando, I need you to be sure, if we do this, I need all of you. No more half measures, no more hiding."

Lando nods, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "I'm sure. I want all of you, and I want to give you all of me in return."

The sincerity in his voice, the look in his eyes - it's everything you've been longing for. Unable to resist any longer, you close the distance between you and press your lips to Lando's. The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as if you're both afraid this moment might shatter. But then Lando's arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and the kiss deepens.

It's not your first kiss, not by a long shot, but it feels different this time. There's a promise in this kiss, a commitment that wasn't there before.

You pour all your pent-up emotions - the longing, the frustration, the love you've been holding back. Lando responds with equal passion, one hand tangling in your hair while the other presses against the small of your back.

When you finally break apart, Lando rests his forehead against yours, a smile playing on his lips.

"I've missed you so much," he murmurs. The relief and happiness that flood Lando's face are beautiful to see.

"I've missed you too," you admit. "More than I wanted to admit, even to myself."

Lando's hands start to wander, tracing patterns on your back that make you shiver, you melt at his touch, but then your mind starts racing again.

"Where do we go from here, Lan?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando takes a moment to consider your question, his hands still gently caressing your back. He pulls back slightly to look into your eyes, his expression a mix of tenderness and determination.

"Well," he starts, a small smile playing on his lips, "I think we take it one step at a time. We don't need to rush anything, but we also don't need to hide anymore."

You nod, encouraging him to continue.

"First things first," Lando says, his voice growing more confident, "I want to take you on a proper date. No sneaking around, no pretending we're just colleagues grabbing a quick bite. I want to take you somewhere nice, hold your hand in public, and not care who sees us."

The thought makes your heart flutter. "I'd like that," you reply softly.

You wrap your arms around him, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. For the first time in a long while, you feel truly happy and hopeful about the future.

"So," Lando says after a moment, a hint of mischief in his voice, "since I left Carlos' party early to come here... does that mean I get to stay the night?"

You laugh, playfully swatting his arm. "Cheeky," you tease, but there's no real accusation in your voice. Instead, you lean in and kiss him.

As the kiss intensifies, you both start moving towards the bed, hands roaming and clothes starting to come off. This time, there's no holding back, no pretending this is just a casual thing. Every touch, every kiss is infused with the promise of something lasting.

Two weeks later, you're in Baku for the Azerbaijan Grand Prix.

You're in the McLaren garage, eyes fixed on your tablet as you analyze the latest telemetry data. The familiar sounds of mechanics working and engineers discussing strategy fill the air, but you're completely focused on your task.

Suddenly, you sense a pair of eyes on you. Without turning, a smile tugs at your lips. You know exactly who it is.

"See something you like?" you ask playfully, still not looking up from your work.

You hear a low chuckle, then feel a warm presence behind you. "Just admiring my girlfriend," Lando's voice is soft, meant only for your ears.

He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you gently against him. His lips brush your shoulder in a tender kiss that sends a shiver down your spine.

The past fortnight has been a whirlwind of emotions and adjustments. True to his word, Lando has taken you on proper dates and you've made your relationship official. You still feel giddy every time Lando calls you his girlfriend, a fact that hasn't escaped his notice. He seems to take particular joy in introducing you as such, his eyes always seeking out your reaction.

"How's the data looking?" he says, giving you a quick squeeze.

"Pretty good, actually," you turn back to your tablet, but remain in his loose embrace. "Your last practice session showed some promising improvements in sector two."

"That's my girl," Lando murmurs, pride evident in his voice. "Always making me look good."

You chuckle, elbowing him gently. "You do that all on your own, superstar. I just provide the numbers."

You turn in Lando's arms, facing him with a soft smile. The garage bustles around you, but in this moment, it feels like you're in your own little bubble.

"You know," you say, your voice low, "I never thought I'd be standing here like this with you. In the middle of the garage, no less."

Lando's eyes crinkle as he grins, his hands resting comfortably on your waist. "Having second thoughts?" he teases.

"Not at all," you shake your head, your smile widening. "It's just different. Good different."

"The best kind of different," Lando agrees, echoing his words from that night in your hotel room.

"I should probably get back to work," you say reluctantly, not making any move to step away.

Lando nods, but doesn't loosen his hold on you. "Probably," he agrees, a mischievous glint in his eye. "But first…"

He leans in, pressing a quick but tender kiss to your lips. It's brief, mindful of your surroundings, but filled with promise.

As he pulls back, you can't help but laugh softly. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"

"You love it," Lando grins, finally releasing you from his embrace.

"I do," you admit, your heart full. "Now go on, superstar. You've got a car to drive soon."

As you watch him blow you a kiss which made you throw your head back in laughter as he left, your heart feels full.

You and Lando. Lando and You. Finally, together.

[amirasainz]

Hi! I love your blog!! Can I request a female driver x f1 grid, where she gets her first win and all the drivers are so happy for her as she’s the paddock princess, maybe when she’s doing her interviews many drivers come over to her and congratulate her and they talk highly of her in their interviews too? Thank u, keep up the amazing work!!💗

Ohh, that is such a sweet idea. This one made my heart melt.🫠❤️

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo

The first victory

The sun hung low over the track, painting the sky in hues of gold and orange as the final lap of the race came to a thrilling conclusion. The Aston Martin car, gleaming in its iconic green, roared down the straightaway with unmatched speed. All eyes were on Y/N, the team's rising star and the paddock's beloved princess. As she crossed the finish line, the world erupted with cheers.

"Y/N wins her first race!" the commentator's voice boomed over the loudspeakers. "What a sensational performance! Y/N takes her maiden victory, and it's Aston Martin on top!"

Inside her cockpit, Y/N could hardly believe it. She was overwhelmed with a rush of adrenaline, relief, and sheer joy. Her radio buzzed with the jubilant voice of her race engineer, Michaela.

"Y/N, you did it! You won! That was incredible! You are a race winner!"

Y/N couldn't contain her emotions. "Oh my god, we did it! We actually did it! Thank you so much, team! The car was perfect today. I can't believe this!" Her voice broke with happy tears as she crossed the finish line.

As she pulled into parc fermé, she could already see the sea of green uniforms waiting for her. The Aston Martin crew, usually composed and professional, was now a mass of cheering, fist-pumping celebration. She parked her car and clambered out, pulling off her helmet to reveal her beaming face. The noise was deafening; her team surrounded her, lifting her onto their shoulders as if she were royalty.

"Y/N! Y/N!" they chanted, their pride and admiration radiating.

Michaela, her race engineer, hugged her tightly. "You were flawless out there. Absolutely flawless."

Y/N, still catching her breath, grinned. "I couldn’t have done it without you guys. This one is for all of us!"

Before she could process what was happening, the other drivers began streaming in, each wanting to congratulate her on this monumental achievement. Lewis was the first to arrive, jogging over and giving her a massive hug.

"Well done, princess!" Lewis grinned, using the nickname the entire paddock had affectionately given her. "That was some of the best driving I’ve ever seen. You deserved this more than anyone."

Y/N laughed, playfully punching him on the shoulder. "Thank you, Lewis. That means a lot coming from you."

Max, who finished in third, made his way over next, pulling Y/N into a hug. "That was incredible, kid! I was pushing so hard to catch you, but you were just too fast. That last stint? Perfect."

Y/N’s smile widened. "Max, you kept me on my toes the whole race. I kept looking in my mirrors and thinking, ‘Please, not today!’" They both laughed, a shared camaraderie between rivals.

Charles joined the growing circle, clapping his hands before enveloping Y/N in a warm embrace. "You did it! You showed everyone today what you’re made of. I’m so proud of you, chéri."

Pierre Gasly chimed in, giving her a quick side hug. "You’re amazing, Y/N. It’s been a long time coming, and today was your day. You’re unstoppable."

Y/N was overwhelmed by the affection and admiration pouring in from all sides. Every driver in the paddock had a soft spot for her, and today, they all showed it without reservation.

Her interviews began shortly after, and as she spoke, drivers kept wandering over, interrupting to offer their congratulations. Daniel, always the joker, nudged her as he walked by, wearing a wide grin. "You know, if you keep driving like that, I’m going to have to start calling you Queen Y/N."

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "Oh, stop it, Danny. But thank you. That means a lot."

As she continued with her media duties, the praise didn’t stop. George in his own interview, couldn't help but beam when asked about her performance. "Y/N is not just a phenomenal driver; she’s an incredible person. She works so hard, and seeing her finally get that win... I think we’re all just so happy for her. She’s truly the paddock princess."

Checo added in his segment, "She’s shown time and time again that she’s got what it takes. To see her standing on the top step today, it’s special. She’s the pride of the paddock."

Especially Fernando, one of the most experienced drivers on the grid, was full of admiration. "She’s a star. I’ve said it from the beginning. She’s got the talent, the dedication, and today, she put it all together perfectly. This is just the start for her."

When it was finally Y/N’s turn to address the cameras, she tried to keep her composure, but the emotions were too overwhelming. "I just want to thank my team, my family, and every single person who’s supported me. It’s been a tough journey, but today… today made it all worth it."

As she spoke, Carlos and Lando popped into her interview, both grinning ear to ear.

Lando, ever the playful one, said, "Y/N, you’ve got to teach us how to drive like that. Seriously, we’re all just trying to catch up to you now."

Carlos nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we’re going to need some lessons. You’re the real deal, hermosa."

She laughed, shaking her head. "Stop it, you guys! But honestly, thank you. You all mean the world to me."

The drivers couldn’t hide their affection. They each gave her one last hug, congratulating her again before letting her continue. Even in their own interviews, her name was on everyone’s lips.

Lewis, when asked about Y/N’s victory, said, "She’s a trailblazer. There’s no other way to put it. The way she carries herself, her determination—she’s an inspiration, not just to women in motorsport but to all of us. She’s the paddock princess, and today, she proved why."

Max added, "She’s one of the most dedicated drivers out here. We all see how hard she works, and to see her win... it just feels right. We’re all proud of her."

The day was a celebration, not just for Aston Martin, but for the entire paddock. Y/N had earned every bit of praise, every hug, and every kind word. As the cameras clicked and the champagne flowed, she stood on the podium, looking out at the cheering crowd, her fellow drivers waving at her from below.

For once, the paddock princess had her crown. And everyone—drivers, teams, and fans alike—couldn't have been happier for her.

[avocado-writing]

pairing: logan howlett x reader x wade wilson

rating: E, minors dni, 18+ (mmf threesome; resolved sexual tension; sex pollen; unprotected p in v sex; oral [f receiving]; double penetration)

words: 6.7k

summary: you, logan and wade are on a stakeout after reports of a new drug which only affects mutants. but what happens when you accidentally get a hit of it yourselves…? (the sex pollen fic from the poll! thank you @eupheme for betaing for me, i owe you my life!)

“I spy with my little eye…”

“Wade, I swear to god…” Logan’s voice is a low rumble, a warning.

“Awww c’mon, peanut! What else do we have to do? Indulge me in my childlike whimsy.”

“Let me guess,” you say, shelling a pistachio before throwing it in the air to catch it on your waiting tongue, “you spy something beginning with R-D, which is the rising damp, which is the fourth goddamn time you spied it because there’s nothing else in this fucking place.”

Wade huffs and throws himself back in his chair. 

“Killjoy,” he mutters, and goes back to carving obscene doodles into the side table with baby knife. 

On the first day you were happy to play along, just to ease the boredom and tension which came hand-in-hand with this arrangement. Now it’s been five of them, stacking on top of each other and getting claustrophobic-heavy, the three of you crowded into each other’s space and on the razor’s edge.

Something is going to break, and you’re worried it’ll be Wade’s nose under Logan’s fist.

What a stupid fucking mission. You should never have said yes.

Ever since the whole Void situation was resolved you, Logan and Wade have been X-Men adjacent. Not part of the group exactly but happy to play along if needed. This most recent assignment had been a request from Piotr - there was something going on downtown to do with trafficking drugs which affected mutants, and someone needed to keep an eye on it. Couldn’t be anyone from the mansion, they’re all hands on deck at the moment keeping an influx of kids in check. But the three of you? With no jobs between you and an urge to do good?

It was a problem with an obvious solution.

It’s a stakeout. Which means sitting and waiting and holy fuck is it boring. 

You can tell something is going on in the alley across the street but you’ve had strict instructions not to take action until you see the guy in charge: thickset man with a penchant for misdeeds and built like a brick shithouse. Once you have proof he’s involved, you’ll get the go-ahead to close in and shut the place down in whatever manner you see fit.

But until he comes in, your little trio has no choice but to stay put, watching petty criminals come and go with no idea they’re being monitored.

Life has revolved around watches from the dingy window. Usually two of you will stay up while one of you tries to get some sleep on one of the uncomfortable twin beds that have been provided, but it isn’t easy to drift off when it feels like the mattresses are made of cinder blocks stuffed with broken glass. It isn’t that you’re unused to being in each others’ spaces - if you’re not at their apartment they’re at yours, after all, you are friends - but this is different. You have the luxury of walking away from each other in normal day-to-day life when things gets too much. Here? Here, you’re stuck until you’re done with the job. You’re all tired, irritated, and desperate for entertainment. You’ve even considered chopping off your own hand to watch it grow back, just for something to do.

And the thing is that’s not the worst of it. Ever since the three of you returned from the Void there’s been something there. Something difficult to pin down, exactly.  A niggling little feeling worming its way through your body. Something which thrums every time Wade flexes the muscles in his hand and you see his long, strong fingers; every time Logan grits his jaw and the tendons in his neck throb. 

Oh, right. You sort of really want to fuck them both.

You don’t go through something that traumatic and not have deep-rooted feelings which surpass normal boundaries. You fought for each others’ lives. You’re bonded in a way people rarely are. And the more time you spend with them the blurrier the lines between platonic and fucking soulmate become. You’ve seen both of them stare at you - and each other - when they think you’re not looking, so you’re sure this isn’t something that only you are harbouring. It’s a secret desire harboured by all three of you.

Like you said, something is gonna break. And in this shitty little surveillance room? It’s gonna break soon.

A movement outside. The three of you sit forward to take a look at the evening’s street view, only to fall back into your chairs as it turns out to be a false alarm. Just a pedestrian walking by. You’re going to go insane.

You drum your fingers on your thighs just to keep them busy, then turn to Logan. 

“You got a smoke?”

He cocks a brow at you.

“You want a cigar?”

“Nothing else to fucking do.”

“Whoa, hey!” says Wade, putting his hand on Logan’s arm as he roots around in his jacket pocket, “no no no, you quit last year! Don’t start up bad habits again unless I’m the one convincing you to, pookie.”

“Wade, c’mon. I’m gonna lose my mind if I don’t have something to do,” you groan. Plus, really, you’d kinda like something to suck on, just to relieve some of the ache in your belly.

As if Wade can hear your thoughts he pipes up again.

“Well if you’re that desperate to use your mouth, I know what we could play to pass the time…”

You and Logan groan in unison, and he balls his fist in a way which suggests it’s not long until the claws come out. Wade holds up his hands to signify peace.

“Whoa, chill out, honeybadger. No need to get scratchy. You don’t have to join in if you don’t want to… but it’s more fun the more people there are.”

Accepting there’s nothing else to pass the time, Logan lets out a long, exhausted sigh and lets Wade continue.

The mercenary licks his lips as if, for once, considering his phrasing. Then blurts out what he wanted to say anyway.

“We could play blowjob roulette.”

It was a foolish time to take a drink of your soda, because you spurt it out your nose. After a moment of mopping yourself up with your sleeve you manage a, “what?!”

“Well, oral roulette I guess, if we’re being PC about it.”

“Oh my god,” Logan groans, getting to his feet and stomping into the tiny excuse for a kitchenette, grabbing a beer and opening it with such gusto that the cap bounces off an adjacent wall.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything! We just spin the bottle and whoever it ends up pointing out deals out a round of Australian kisses for the other players. Relieves the boredom, and it’s fun to see how long everyone lasts.”

Your mouth is open, you’re sure of it. You’re looking at Wade in abject horror. This has got to just be part of his stupid bravado, right? Making an ill-timed joke?

Because the other option is he’s serious.

Logan drinks. You stare. Wade rabbits on.

“I’m just saying we used to play it at Sister Margaret’s all the time, when we were waiting for new marks to come in and didn’t have anything better to do! It wasn’t gay or anything except for, you know, the rampant homoeroticism of slurping everyone’s gherkin.”

“Did you… did you ever have to do it?” you ask, morbid fascination taking over. He scoffs.

“Did I ever have to… pookie, I’ve taken more loads than my building’s washing machine. Yeah, I’d say I’m pretty fucking great at it.”

He’s staring at you with an intensity which makes you feel like you’re on fire, but from embarrassment or enthusiasm you’re not sure. 

“So?” he asks, quietly, putting a hand on your knee. Your body burns. You swallow. You look to Logan. 

He sighs. Finishes his beer, but in a way which suggests he’s giving in. You see the way Logan’s teeth touch his bottom lip. The start of a fricative. 

He’s going to say fine.

Movement out of the window. You bolt up, knocking Wade’s hand away. He deflates.

“Aww. But I really wanted to - ”

“No, guys - look!”

They quickly crowd you, following where you point. A huge man walks into the alleyway, flanked by underlings, the bulk of him taking up the small space.

“There’s our guy,” you say, “let’s go.”

You descend upon the alleyway in a flash of swords and claws. You tug your cowl up over your nose to protect your face, hand on one of your Brügger & Thomet MP9s as the three of you come face-to-face with the door you’ve been monitoring all week.

“So are we going in sneaky style, or—”

Logan rips the door off its hinges, throwing it down the length of the alley; he is desperate to be done with this. You exchange a look with Wade.

“Okiedokie, asked and answered I guess,” he sighs, grabbing his Desert Eagles from his holsters.

You both follow Logan who’s thrown himself into the middle of the lab claws-first. Two-thirds of the people scream and flee, the others stand their guard and grab their guns.

Fingers on triggers, you take a beat to examine the situation.

Equipment everywhere. Beakers and cylinders you can possibly guess the use for, set up on desks and synthesising something nasty. The boss is standing in the middle of the room, eyebrow cocked and mild annoyance plastered on his face. Bingo. You make a beeline for him, taking a couple of bullets in your flank as you go.

“Cover me!” you shout to Wade. He pulls his katana out of a guy’s head and throws you a bloodied thumbs-up.

“Got your back, pookie! Hate to see you leave, love to watch you spill entrails as you go!”

As if he was predicting your next action, you whip your knife out of your belt and stab it in an assailant’s belly, watching his warm guts slide onto the floor. He releases a strangled noise as he drops to his knees - you make a move to continue on your way to the boss only to feel someone pick you up.

“Shit!” you mutter as you’re hoisted into the air. Wade and Logan stop their onslaught to turn at the sound of your panic, their eyes both going wide as they see you restrained. With a twinned shout of your name they come running to help.

Aww, your boys. It’d be cute if you weren’t bracing yourself for the pain.

Your attacker launches you across the room. A couple of seconds go by as you fly through the air - and then into a table full of test tubes and pipettes.

A great cloud rises into the air. A cloud of spores?

Before you can get a chance to properly read the situation, Wade and Logan are at your side. Sturdy hands grasp around your forearms and you’re dragged to your feet. 

Of course, it goes unnoticed…but all three of you take in a deep breath.

“You okay, baby?” rasps Logan. 

“Yeah, I’m f— move!” you scream, shouldering him out of the way so you can sink your knife into the neck of the man about to spray bullets down his spine. As you rip through the soft skin at his throat something occurs to you. 

‘Baby’? Where did that come from?

Not that it isn’t nice, obviously, but… it’s unlike Logan to show that much tenderness ever. Especially with pet names.

Oh well, no time to dwell.

Picking bits of glass from your biceps you tank a punch from a man closing in on your left, parry his next couple of blows, then shoot him in the dick. Wade has called this a ‘low blow’ before which isn’t incorrect but honestly, there’s no time for fighting fair when it’s 3-versus-30. 

The boss has finally gotten involved. A pair of brass knuckles shines against his fist as he swings at Logan, a meaty crack filling the air in a way which you’re worried might actually have dented one of your friend’s ribs. Wade uses the distraction to stab a katana into the guy’s back, then another one a little further up - using him like a goddamn climbing wall. The boss roars like an animal and attempts to swat him off but there’s no use. His massive bulk is working against him, and Wade can be a fast little motherfucker when he wants to be.

Wade lets out a ‘peekaboo!” as he pops up over the boss’s shoulder, pressing his pistol into the meat of his neck and firing. Blood sprays across the floor but somehow the guy doesn’t stop, not even when Logan picks himself back up and sinks both his claws into his stomach; it only elicits another snarl.

Okay, time to close.

You sheath your guns and go back to your knife, using Logan as a launchpad as you throw yourself off the arch of his back and into the air - stabbing down into the boss’s skull with a dull thunk.

A line of blood dribbles out of his mouth. He starts to fall.

“Uh oh - call me Ke$ha, because I’m yelling timber!” Wade warns. With a snarl Logan rips his claws free from muscle, snatching you off of the boss’s corpse as he stumbles forward under his own weight. Pulling you free you both lose your footing, and you crash down onto your friend.

You look at Logan.

He looks at you. 

Suddenly, his hands clasp around your hips. Probably you move you off of him…

And then you’re on fire. 

Like gasoline has made a line from his touch to your cunt, everything in you is set ablaze. Your pussy clenches and you’ve never felt so empty before - or at least not so aware of it.

There is a cock-shaped hole and it’s begging to be filled.

You expect Logan to freak out, you’re freaking out - you never thought you had a murder kink but you guess you’re never too old to find out something new about yourself - but he doesn’t.

Instead you just see him furrow his brow as if processing something; then acknowledge the press of his hardening cock rub against your thigh as he bucks up into you.

Oh no. Something is wrong.

When you feel Wade grab your shoulder and haul you back to your feet it’s the same, that delicious burning sensation rocketing through you… and from the way he moans as soon as his hands are on you, the feeling is mutual. 

“Fuck. Fuck,” he breathes. Yeah. You want to, that’s the issue.

You stagger away from him with wide eyes and electric skin, a beat passing between the three of you as the people left in the lab decide to give up the fight now their boss is toast. Hearts racing, hands wanting to reach out and touch.

Logan is the one to break the silence.

“We should call in and let the others know we’re done,” he manages. You nod.

“Yeah. Can we… can we go back across the street? I don’t feel so good.”

“Oh, don’t you go Spider-Man Infinity War Part 1 on me,” Wade chuckles. You don’t have the energy to work out what he’s referencing, especially when a jolt goes through your body to your cunt when you feel his eyes meet yours. 

Damn. This is bad. 

“Yeah. Of course, honey,” Logan manages. He goes to put his hand on the small of your back and then thinks better of it, though you can feel its nearness like a magnetic pull. You almost moan when he retracts his touch instead. Wade whips his phone out and fires off a message to let someone know a cleanup crew is needed as you stagger out of the alleyway and back across the street. 

You didn’t bother closing the door when you ran out, too desperate to monopolise on the chance of getting your mark. The three of you tumble back into the room you’d been dying to get out of just a scant few minutes ago, relieved to be in the privacy of its confines again.

A moment passes as all three of you adjust to the feeling coursing through your bodies.

“What’s happening?” you breathe, bracing your hands on the back of your go-to wooden chair and breaking it with the force of your grip. You wince at the sound of splintering, blood dripping down your palms before you feel it heal over.

“I’ve not felt like this since I first discovered how easy it was to masturbate to Good Housekeeping,” Wade groans, whipping off his mask as he flops down onto the battered-up-couch. Logan has made his way to the fridge again, practically ripping its door off to get to a beer which he downs in one swig. Fuck. It’s so sexy. You want to lick the muscles in his neck.

“It’s a pollen,” he states, voice rocky in a way which goes straight to the burning pit of your stomach. You and Wade exchange a look and then turn to him, waiting for further explanation. “Only has a reaction in mutants. Charles said it was something about putting the id into overdrive, like a fuckin’ adrenaline shot to the libido.”

“It… it makes you aroused?” you manage, attempting not to rock your cunt into the palm of your hand. Logan grunts.

“Was trying to be more tactful, but yeah, honey. That’s the idea.”

Honey. The pet name once again goes down your spine.

“Fucking sorry,” says Wade, “someone was manufacturing this stuff as a drug for what? To make mutants too horny to fight?”

Logan shrugs, still not tearing his gaze from his empty bottle, as if to agree it’s his best guess. Wade’s head falls back against the sofa’s arm.

“I mean, damn, they could have just shown me any frame from Magic Mike XXL and it would have had the same result. Seems like a lot of effort.”

Something about the way Logan talks sticks out to you, you circle back around to it. 

“Logan, you seem to know a lot about this stuff… have you encountered it before?”

Another beer grabbed and chugged down, the forward hunch in his shoulders physical evidence of his walls raising. 

“Once. Back in the day with the other X-Men.”

“How did you get through it? Does it go away?”

Logan doesn’t reply. Drinks.

The unspoken answer sinks in.

“Oh my god, you had to fuck it out, didn’t you?” gasps Wade. Logan doesn’t even growl. Jesus Christ he’s right. “Who was it? Storm? Beast? By the love of all things 100k+ enemies-to-lovers-slowburn, tell me it was Cyclops.”

Logan doesn’t dignify him with an answer, instead putting the empty bottle down with enough force you’re surprised it doesn’t shatter.

“It’ll pass. I just need to sit it out,” he reasons, the grit in his jaw suggesting this isn’t the optimal solution. You feel your eyebrows tug together, a crease of concern settling between them.

“But…”

“I’ll be fine.” The way he says it, he’s trying to convince himself more than anyone. With the room in the air practically throbbing he heads to the bedroom, leaving you and Wade alone.

Holy shit. You and Wade are alone.

Your eyes wander over to him, to find his gaze is already resting heavy on you. Your skin lights up.

“So, uh,” he starts, shifting himself awkwardly where his hard-on is trapped in his suit, “you read any good books lately?”

That does help to alleviate the tension and you find yourself chuckling, only for the relief to be ablated when your empty pussy pulses. You whine.

“Wade…”

As soon as you say his name he’s rushing over to you, helping you sit down on the ruined chair. You both moan as hot skin slides against hot skin. 

“Look, it isn’t…” you groan as you slide your hand up his bicep. Fuck, he’s strong. “...it isn’t a crazy idea to help each other out, right? We’re friends. It’s just two friends giving each other a hand…”

Wade dips down to run the bridge of nose along the line of your jaw, letting his lips drop to the pulse in your neck.

“Just friends…” he mutters. You buck up into nothing. Oh, god. You’re going to die here. “Baby?”

Oh shit, oh fuck. You want him to call you that over and over again, stamp it into your fucking mind.

“Yeah?” you reply, the word ripped rawly from your throat.

“I wanted to do this before we even left this goddamn apartment, you think I might have changed my mind after the mutant viagra?”

He pulls back just enough for you to see the seriousness on his face. No, he’s not joking, not saying something dirty just because he thinks it’s funny. 

He’s saying it because it’s true, and it’s both thrilling and terrifying. 

“Can I?”

Oh, it’s so tempting to say yes yes yes… but the more tempting thing is to tease him. Just a little.

You hook your leg over his shoulder and he groans as you dig your heel into the muscle of his back. He groans loud and long.

“Wade?”

“Mmm?”

“Ask me properly.”

His breath hitches in his throat, and you’re pretty sure he’s making a mess in his suit.

“Fuck, can I eat you out, baby? Please?”

You nod so fast you fear you’ll break your neck.

Wade lifts you like you weigh fucking nothing at all, strong arms scooping you up and bringing you to the couch - desperate for more space. His hands move quick and roughly as he goes to the pants on your suit, so wracked with need his fingers shake just from the promise of getting to touch you properly. You help him as much as you can, toeing off your boots and helping him tug your underwear off along with your waistband. His eyes widen as he realises your panties are in his hands. He takes a moment to run his thumb over the cotton of them and he fucking moans. Oh, god damn it, you’re going to be fucking ruined.

“Fuck. Never seen a pussy look this good,” he breathes as he finds himself face-to-face with your dripping cunt. You’re already so wet that it’s embarrassing and, while it would be easy enough to blame on the pollen, you know that you’ve wanted this for months. When he drags his tongue up your puffy, desperate folds, you pretty much combust.

“Oh shit,” you groan, wrapping your other leg round his face to hold him flush against you - not that Wade needs any convincing though, because you’ve never seen a man so desperate to fuck you with his mouth before. He buries himself in you, scarred hands reaching up to dig into the soft skin of your thighs and keep you steady. He wants you at his own pace, it seems, and is strong enough to make it happen. Fuck, you are not complaining.

Wade’s eyes flit upwards to see how you’re reacting as he moves his whole face side to side to bury himself into your cunt deeper. It’s like he’s trying to find where your scent is the strongest and, honestly? With what you’ve heard about this pollen stuff? Seems right on track. He has no hair for you to bury your fingers in so instead you press your hand to the top of his head and pull him closer, because god knows you don’t have the ability to vocalise it. You sink your fingernails in so he knows, though.

Holy hell you’ve never felt so good. The pollen is heightening everything, each movement he makes into you shooting shockwaves through your nerves. Wade’s tongue is insistent in exploring every inch of you, pressing bluntly into your clit; lapping at the wetness seeping from you like he’ll die if he can’t taste what he’s doing to you; dragging down to your ass and toying with you there, too. Yes, fuck, anything he goddamn wants. When his teeth skim the needy folds of your cunt you jackknife into his mouth, almost breaking them clean out of his gums.

“Holy shit, babe. What’s gotten into you?” he chuckles, pupils so blown wide with lust that his eyes are eclipsed with black. You chase after him with your hips.

“Not you, and that’s the problem,” you harrumph. He grins and you see how covered with your slick he is and fuck you are going to die here. 

“I’ll take care of you. That’s what friends do, right?” he asks, putting emphasis on the word you’re both masquerading behind. When you reach out with a searching hand he threads his finger through yours wordlessly, using the other to grab a pillow so he has something to fuck up against. You feel a tiny bit bad for not offering to help but you know he’ll get his in time - in fact just thinking about sucking his cock your mouth begins to water.

He presses his palm into yours as he goes back to your cunt with his mouth. It takes only moments for him to start up his desperate pace again, tongue sinfully sweet, and you’re chasing and chasing…

Stars explode in your vision and in your blood. The noise you let out is feral, a euphony of pleasure and you don’t care who hears. Wade’s eyes drift close as he tastes your orgasm directly at his lips, drinking you down. You’re certain his hips stutter as he comes just from getting you off. Oh god it’s so hot.

Oh god, you’re not done.

Wade surges up your body and kisses you ferociously, you moan at the taste of yourself he gives back. 

“Fuck, yes, do you taste that, baby? What did I do to you? Holy fuck you are the hottest thing I’ve ever seen…”

“Wade, I need you.”

“Yeah, fuck, okay. Let me get this stupid sexy suit off…”

Hands begin to fumble messily, needily at each other’s zippers in order to strip. You sit up to get a better handle on him—

And freeze when you see you have an audience.

Wade follows your gaze to where Logan is standing in the bedroom doorway. He’s managed to get his suit off and change back into his jeans, though you can’t imagine he’ll want to stay in them for long the way his trapped cock is staining dark blue denim even darker. He’s gripping the doorframe with such force that his claws have popped out, eyes a matching pitch black to Wade’s, chest heaving as he watches the show.

“You okay, honey badger?” Wade drawls, a cocky smile dragging across him. Logan grunts. Swallows hard. You go for a softer tactic.

“Logan, sweetheart, you wanna join in?” your voice is husky as you ask, oh so inviting. Logan squeezes his eyes shut and his fist tight, taking a chunk out of the wall.

“Get into the goddamn bedroom, both of you,” he growls. The two of you absolutely do not need to be told twice. Partially undressed you vault over the back of the dishevelled sofa, letting Logan lead the way. As soon as you’re within arms’ reach he snags you around the waist and pulls you in for a kiss.

Logan kisses like he wants to devour you. Rough, commanding, dragging his tongue into your mouth as if trying to claim you. Oh, you’ll let him a hundred times over. You mewl when his hand reaches down you cup your still dripping pussy, immediately swiping a thumb against your clit. It pulses as if Wade didn’t just pull an orgasm out of you.

“Fuckin’ needy little thing,” he snarls, delighted. You reach down to grab the bulge he’s rocking, squeezing hard enough to get him to groan.

“Look who’s talking,” you chuckle. He taps at the top of your suit, an instruction. 

“Off,” he says, but that’s as much as he gets to say, because Wade grabs him by the beard and steers him in for a kiss. You pause for just a second to see what will happen but clearly you needn’t have worried - Logan moans into your friend’s mouth, grabbing a handful of Wade’s pretty decent ass and digging in his fingers. While they’re busy you finish stripping, going for the zipper on the back of the red suit and pulling it down. It’s such a goddamn stupid design having it at the back like a goddamn prom dress - but at the moment you’re kinda thankful for it because it means you get to kiss along the revealed plain of skin. Wade has such beautiful fucking back muscles, you’ve stared at them for long enough to memorise every damned one.

He steps out of the suit when you get to his feet - yeah, he did come just from eating you out earlier and holy fuck are you proud - and lets out a strangled noise when you bite the meat of his asscheek hard enough to leave a mark.

“Fuck, are you gonna rim me? Because if so I’m a thousand percent down,” he chokes, pulling away from Logan’s mouth and leaving a string of spit between them, evidence of a messy kiss. You shrug.

“You want me to, baby?”

Wade seems to have a crisis of faith as he considers this, letting Logan nibble down the length of his neck; eventually he shakes his head though.

“No, I wanna be inside you, like, yesterday,” he confesses. 

“I’ve got enough room for two,” you state, so absolutely sure the pollen will accommodate that you don’t even need to think about it. Both Wade and Logan suck in a breath at that idea.

“Fuck, baby, aren’t you just perfect,” Logan drawls, grabbing you by the hips as you stand up and pulling you to the pathetic twin bed this apartment was provided with. Not how you wanted this first time to go down but hey, at least it’s going down at all. No longer just a dirty fantasy you bury your fingers into your cunt imagining but a real bonafide liaison (boner-fide liaison, Wade’s voice in your head pipes up).

You paw at his jeans, desperate to have all three of you naked and ready. There’s nothing to hide between you any more. Any boundaries have been not only crossed but decimated, absolutely destroyed beyond repair, and you couldn’t be happier. When his cock falls heavy into your palm you can’t help but suck air in through your teeth at its sheer size. Logan chuckles, gravelly and tempting.

“Oh it’ll fit, baby,” he coos, as if reading your mind. Fuck. Yep, it will. There’s no two ways about it. You’re having both Wade and Logan inside you if it kills you.

He wraps you in his arms before you can have any more thoughts on the matter and pulls you down onto the mattress with him, the pollen in your veins making you feel every touch like the end of a live wire - yet you keep coming back to get shocked. Logan positions himself under you, chest-to-chest, grinning at the way your nipples rub against the coarse and gorgeous hair of his chest. There’s a slapping noise and you realise it’s Wade’s hand on Logan’s thigh, encouraging him to move up the bed.

“Big boy, you know you have to scoot up if this is happening. I’m all for fucking the same pussy together but you have to be realistic…”

Obscured by your body, only you get to see the way Logan rolls his eyes fondly at Wade’s blabbering. He manouveurs you both to allow Wade room to kneel on the mattress behind you and you gasp at the feeling of their cocks bullying at your entrance.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, body on fire and desperate to be extinguished by them. Logan hums in your ear.

“I know, baby, I know. We’ll take care of you.”

“And each other. I got sex-pollened too, old man,” Wade harrumphs, rubbing his head against the slick lips of your cunt. 

“Nobody’s forgetting you, princess,” he murmurs, “now be good and put me inside.”

Logan probably misses the soft hiss Wade lets out at that, but you feel the way the mercenary’s hand wraps around his cock and presses Logan to your empty cunt. You moan in pleasure as he follows the path Wade has laid out and pushes himself inside of you, no resistance given. It takes you only a couple of seconds to adjust to the pure size of him. Holy shit, if this were any other time you’d be falling apart by now, but the way your body pumps with desperation suggests one dick alone isn’t going to be enough.

“You okay?” Logan rumbles by your ear. You cling onto him for dear life, nodding.

“Yeah. Fuck, Wade, I know you’ll fit, you’ve gotta fuck me too.”

Wade doesn’t even have an answer for that. Instead you feel his thumb tug at your lips, stretching you for him - or just watching the way Logan fills you, getting off on the filthy way you’re plugged. Another cock begins to press at your already stuffed hole and you whine.

“S’okay, I gotcha,” Logan says through gritted teeth as he feels Wade’s length slide along his own, the feeling almost overwhelming for him. You drop your head to his shoulder and choke on your own spit as Wade forces himself inside of you. Your cunt feels like it is about to burst into flames in the most satisfying way possible, flowering open between them both.

“Fuck, never felt anything so goddamn tight in my life…” Wade manages. Eventually he bottoms out alongside Logan, both of them sitting snugly inside of you, sharing you, clutched in your warmth. 

“There we go,” Logan growls. “You okay, baby?”

Not knowing if the question is aimed at you or Wade you both whine a yes. Logan laughs and you feel his chest move beneath you, all muscle and heat.

“I’m gonna move now.”

He drags himself out of you, inch by glorious inch, like a match striking against a box and sparking an ember. A deep ragged breath shudders through you at the feeling of it but it is nothing compared to how he slams back inside. Lights flood your periphery. You are going to fucking die between these two men and that is fine. Heaven, even.

Once Wade feels Logan’s rhythm it is too much of a competition for him not to match it. The mercenary’s arms fall either side of your bodies to support himself as he works himself in and out of you, sliding deep as Logan retreats to the tip. Your cunt makes a lewd noise as they piston inside of you and you have never cared about anything less in your life. You are bathed in light, high off this, euphoric over being fucked. A tiny rivulet of drool falls from the edge of your mouth into Logan’s chest hair and he curses at the glorious rawness of it all.

Above you, Wade has finally found his voice again.

“Look at you taking us so well. Oh, fuck, goddamn. I’ve wanted you like this for so long. Remember when we were neighbours, honey? Those guys who you used to bring home… fuck, baby… I used to give myself the old low-five to the sound of you getting fucked…”

You make a pathetic little noise which spurs him onwards. Wade’s mouth drops to your ear.

“...and I used to get angry because I knew I could do it better myself.”

“Oh my god Wade…” you whisper. Tears are beginning to pool in your eyes at the way you’re starting to get overstimulated, two cocks hitting that sweet spot inside you verges on being too much. Were the pollen not still in full force you’re sure you’d need to tap out.

“And you?” Wade’s hand grips Logan’s bicep, squeezing appreciatively. “Do you know what it’s like to wake up every morning and see you shirtless on my couch, and not be able to fuck you? You do it on purpose, peanut, I swear…”

Logan chuckles again, that deep honey-rich sound eked out in magnitudes. 

“And what if I do, Red?”

Wade pauses in his thrusting, you don’t have to see him to know that his eyes are wide.

“Wait, what? For real?”

“Wade!” you whine, reaching over to slap at his arm, annoyed that he’s stopped moving. “Can we all just agree we’ve gotten off to the thought of each other and we’d have fucked eventually anyway?”

The men either side of you seem to think it’s a good compromise to come to and redouble their efforts. All you can do is to cling onto whatever muscles you’re able to find and ride the wave of pleasure. Fireworks go off in your synapses, brain a messy goo of euphoria, cunt fucked out and thoroughly taken care of. 

They speed up, thrusts getting messy and arrhythmic and yet still somehow matching, and you know that they’re going to come together. What a fucking treat, how divine, oh god. Logan’s hands sink into your ass to keep you anchored as his cock goes faster, skin slapping on skin as his sac moves against Wade’s - causing the merc to let out a string of curses - and you’re suddenly flooded with his warm, sticky cum pumping inside you in jets. Wade whines at the feeling of himself being doused and follows Logan’s lead. The filthy cocktail of them drips around both their lengths and out of your hole, falling onto the pathetic mattress below. One last little nudge of the hips is all it takes to push you over the edge again. Your next orgasm is dragged out of you… but you know your body will demand more.

For now, though, respite. The urge to reach that peak again immediately has at least settled for the moment.

“Holy fuck,” you sigh. Logan hums an affirmative note, fingers playing with the small of your back as Wade peppers kisses across your shoulderblades.

“We should go on stakeouts more often, if this is the nice little bow everything gets tied up in,” Wade sighs, dreamily. You nod against Logan’s chest. His hair rubs your cheek deliciously. Your pussy throbs again, reminding you this dirty escapade needs to continue soon. “So what does this mean? Are we a little mutant charcuterie now?”

Your brow furrows as you try to parse what Wade has just said.

“Oh. Wade, baby, do you mean ‘coterie’?”

Logan bursts out laughing, a noise you’ve never properly heard before, and it has you grinning - and Wade, too, even though he grumbles a little at being corrected. Their cocks jostle inside you and you feel them getting hard again and, as you prepare yourself for round two, it’s nice to know that whatever the three of you face at the end of this will be happy.

Three days later, you’re laid across the couch, head in Wade’s lap and legs in Logan’s, all tangled together as you get the single worst telling-off of your life.

“Non-lethal mission, Wade! How many times did I have to tell you, it was meant to be non-lethal!” Piotr shouts down the line. Wade grimaces.

“Look, there were other things we had to sort out first, okay? We kinda forgot about the no-killing part. Besides the guy can’t traffic drugs if he’s dead,” he confesses. You can picture Piotr’s disappointed face.

“Other things!? WHAT other things, Wade?!”

“Okay so there was this horny pollen, and we all had to—”

Logan grabs Wade’s phone and hurls it across the room. It shatters into pieces against the wall. Wade gawps.

“Hey! That was new! Well, okay, not new, but it wasn’t cracked. Well, it was cracked, but it had all my best dick pics on there!”

“You can take new ones,” Logan states. 

You smile. Yeah. The charcuterie is nice.

[kisakis-boyfriend]

🎃 ga ming from genshin impact in encountering a monster male reader and gets butt fucked

Author's Note: One butt fuckin' coming up! I made the reader some type of bird monster, to hopefully do something a bit different from my other monster readers 😅

Pairings: Gaming x male reader

Warnings: Male bird monster!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Gaming, noncon, no prep, primal sex, too much cum

In his line of work, Gaming has to have sharp senses. Anything could happen while he's making a delivery or escorting someone back to their village. Kids get into trouble all of the time — if your hearing isn't trained well enough, you might not pick up on someone's cries for help.

Anything could happen as the sun beats down on the energetic man who walks along a riverbed. His hands absentmindedly mess with an empty food wrapping and, in his trance, he doesn't notice the large shadow closing in on him until–

“Whoa! Hey!” Gaming shouts, steadying himself after your gust of wind nearly caused him to topple over into the river.

When he finally sees what almost flew into him, Gaming's hand reaches for his weapon.

A man… no, a bird– or maybe… a birdman? A human-bird hybrid stands before him; taller than him and rather imposing. Its facial features sharp, and a deranged look in its eye.

Your knees bend, then you once again take flight — this time, you do manage to knock the smaller man over. He tumbles to the grassy area below, but before he can stand back up, you rush over and pin him by his shoulders.

“Ah ah ah! Struggling never helped anyone!” you squawk. Keeping him pinned, you use your talons to rip a hole in the back of his pants.

The action startles poor Gaming. The open air hits his vulnerable hole, and his blood freezes thinking about all of the potential scenarios that could come next.

Anything could happen as your wild, grating laugh pierces his ears — your sharp talons dig in, marking the flesh of his ass cheeks as you spread them apart. “Nononono just hold on a sec—!!”

Gaming cries out as your wet tip slides against his ass; searching for his entrance. You thrust at the air a few times, trying to line yourself up and make it inside. Meanwhile, your prey looks like he's about to cry — large tears pool in the corners of his eyes and his limbs flail around as he searches for an escape. But you both know there isn't one.

He chokes on his words as your cock finally pushes in. Every new inch that enters him burns as your impossibly long monster cock stretches his muscles wider. Your dick only swells more as the human's tightness squeezes it without mercy.

“This is so much better than those winged mates from before! Do all humans have a pussy this tight?” But your prey doesn't answer. His voice has seemingly left him too soon. Only sobs and moans find their way out of him as you continue to ram yourself into his little hole.

Gaming can easily feel every vein on your dick. The shape of the head, and the way it seems like your entire length is going straight through his body, are forever etched into his memory.

His ass bounces with every snap of your hips, turning his skin a darker shade of pink as the abuse goes on.

You speed up, ignoring the human's pained voice as you use his insides to pleasure yourself. Finally, you spill inside of him — shooting an ungodly surge of cum into his womb. Not even human sperm, but thick, fertile monster seed that sloshes around with his every move.

With a wet plop noise, you pull out. The human's hole is gaping, pulsating as some cum dribbles out and creates a small puddle between his weary legs.

But everyone knows that most monsters have far more stamina than humans do.

Gaming's ass is ravaged once again as you slide back into him with an insatiable hunger. Your cum acts as lube this time, and every deep thrust inside is sickeningly wet — the sheer size and length of your cock simultaneously fucks the sperm further inside, and pushes the excess out, leaking down his trembling thighs.

Again, you spill your heavy load inside, adding to the gooey mess that's crammed into his tiny hole.

Anything could happen as Gaming's voice becomes scratchy from all of his crying and screaming, and you slide back in for another round. Pounding and pounding, with no obvious end in sight.

[tsuutarr]

The hero didn’t really think much of you when he first saw you. After all, you're just a pretty little saint that grew up with praise inside the gleaming walls of a church, never knowing any suffering. He doubts you’ll be able to keep up with him during his journey to save the world.

All of his initial disdain for you disappears when he begins his journey with you. You’re funny, you’re kind, you’re generous. Your healing ability from the gods isn’t the only thing that seems to heal him – just your presence, just your laugh, just you. You make life – his journey – a little more bearable.

So how – how could they? You’re his light, you’re his everything, and yet… They want to sacrifice you? That’s why you were chosen to be his partner for his trip? And you’re just standing there, unwilling to fight your fate.

“I’m okay with disappearing,” you murmur, wiping his tears away with hands that are turning to stone. “If I can save your life with my own, then I’m satisfied.”

But he’s not. He’s not satisfied, not when you’re not by his side. When he sees you turn to stone, your skin replaced with beautiful white marble, he vows to do anything to bring you back to his side. 

Using the power of the gods, he turns back time again and again and again so he can save you – so he can be with you.

But you meet the same fate over and over and over again. Again and again and again.

…Then who cares? Who cares about this shitty world when it’s without you?

The next time you return to consciousness, the world is in disarray, covered in murky fog and the smell of blood. The next thing you know, you’re being pulled into a warm embrace.

“You’re alive…” the hero says, hugging you close. His warmth is suffocating. “Yes… I should’ve done this from the start instead of turning back time…”

“W… what’s happening?” you ask, heart feeling too heavy, like stone, in your chest. “What did you do…?”

“Nothing, everything, anything.” He nuzzles your neck, savoring your warmth. It sends chills down your spine. “Anything to have you by my side. Even if it means destroying the world.”

[everyonewooeverywhere]

Hard hours are open and I'm ready!!

Size training with yunho and how it takes a few times for you to adjust to his thick cock whilst he's fucking you.

He'd be so gentle and so fucking proud at the same time.

heyyyyy so i know this ask is over a month old....but i got really obsessed with it all of the sudden 😭

and this ended up a lot longer than i meant for it to...

but anyway-

size training and yunho just go together so well. it’s like a match made in heaven.

because he takes so much pride in it. pride in the training that is. (though he is also incredibly proud of how massive he is and how much prep it usually requires for someone to take him…🙂‍↕️)

and i just can’t help but feel like he’d enjoy size training as foreplay. like of course he wants to make sure you’re comfortable and safe, but FUCK if he doesn’t love how you beg for him to fuck you probably.

i get the feeling that he’d take at least a couple…sessions…before actually having you try to take his whole length. 

he’s a patient man. and you know how big he is. you can feel it every time you sit on his lap while you watch a movie. you’ve had your fair share of tired nights when you’ve jerked him off in his pants while he plays with you through your underwear. 

but when you first got together, he let you know immediately that you might not be able to take him. especially not right away. and you were so horny out of your mind about this man that you had begged him to at least try. your desire had almost brought you to tears. but he stood his ground. cupping your face and kissing your forehead telling you that “you just need a little training, baby” and promising “i won’t leave your pretty pussy empty for long”

that first night is so important to him. he wants you to understand that he can make you feel good even without his dick inside you. his hands will 100% do the trick. they do it for him, too, to be honest. watching his fingers disappear inside you is almost enough to make him cum in his pants. and watching how your eyelids flutter when he adds a third finger.

he’ll use toys too to build you up to it. whether they’re your own or his, he loves to watch you go a little crazy every time it gets bigger and he loves to hear your gasps every time. toys aren’t his favorite though because it’s less skin on skin contact. if he could, he’d just use his fingers, but he understands the importance of buildup.

when you both finally decide that you’re ready to try and take him, he makes sure everything is perfect. he makes sure the sheets are fresh, the room is cool, and that no one even has the possibility of disturbing the two of you for the foreseeable future. and he sets the expectation that it might not happen tonight. but you’re determined.

he always starts in missionary. it’s easier for him to control that way, and he finds that’s usually where his partner is usually the most comfortable the first time. maybe he’ll even put a pillow under your lower back and make sure you’re as comfortable as possible. and he absolutely has lube on standby if it’s needed. he’s a big hand holder too, so he’ll grab your hand against your stomach and caress your knuckles as he lines himself up with your entrance. “we’ll start with just the tip, ok baby?” 

and he’ll push into you ever so slightly. the stretch is still a lot to take, so he’s so fucking gentle, he’s constantly reminding you to “breathe, baby” and he makes sure to ask you every time if you’re ok to go further. and he lets you gasp out your “yes” before trying to fit in another inch. he keeps the reassurance coming even if he can’t help himself from crossing the line into condescending

“good girl, taking my cock so well” “oh you fit me so perfectly, angel” “do you feel good, baby?” “yeah?” “oh you can’t even think straight anymore can you?”

when he’s about half an inch from bottoming out, you grab his hand, squeezing hard, “yunho…” you choke out. “are you ok, angel? what’s wrong?” you shake your head “no i…fuck…i can’t…i’m so close” and he feels you tighten around him at the admission. “fuck ok. hold on baby.” he presses his body up against yours and brings his lips to your ear, “we’re almost there, ok? just hold out for a couple more seconds” all you can do is just whimper and nod as he pushes himself in the last few centimeters.

“oh fuckkk baby” he brings a hand to your clit “you’re gonna cum” mhmm you nod frantically, burying your nails in his back 

“you’re so big” you barely gasp out. “i know. i know, baby.” he kisses your cheeks and lips as he plays with your clit. “can you come for me? please? come on my cock?” that’s all it takes for your warm walls to tighten around him and he holds you to his chest while you come. 

and part of me all of me feels like, as long as you’re okay with it, that yunho would want cockwarming to be heavily involved in the early stages of his aftercare. like he’ll flip you over so you’re seated in his lap. and he’ll stay inside you while he kisses your neck and shoulders. and making sure you get plenty of vocal affirmation “you did so good for me baby” “i’m so proud of you, pretty” “my good girl, you did so well” eventually, when he notices your discomfort at the constant stretch, he’ll pull you off of him and clean you properly. but at least for a little while he wants you to have a…physical reminder…of how good you did.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Bro... how would Stanley/Stanford deal with their s/o (y/n) having a stalker? (As someone who has been a victim of stalking, it's terrifying)

They are afraid to go outside to do things such as check the mail, gets harassed online through text/emails, and overall just terrified 24/7, constantly paranoid with the fear of the worst happening to them if they let their guard down :(

Stan will wholeheartedly stay with you, just so he could use Ford’s crossbow because how dare some creepy fuck make you feel unsafe inside and outside the house.

He’ll fist fight them if he must, also he’ll use this as an excuse to teach you kickboxing.

If he ever find out where this stalker lives, best believe that he’ll make sure they’ll be the one scared to come out of their one house by sending letters depicting threats of what he’d do should they step a toe out of their own home, and it’s in excruciating detail.

However if the stalker try to send the letter into the police, the police can’t seem to trace who sent the letter…Stan is too good at what he does it’s almost terrifying but it works out for you as the stalker is scared as shit that someone will set throw a Molotov cocktail at them while getting the mail…or depants them when they least expect it.

‘Don’t you think this is a bit much?’ You asked.

‘Where they’re threatening my baby? Never, I could’ve done way worse for you.’ Stan said as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, keeping you close to his side as you both snuggled up together while watching television, feeling the safest you ever been in a long while.

Stan then proceeds to run the bastard over in his car ❤️

Ford will probably have some sort of surveillance cameras set up that he would check now and then for any and all abnormal activity regarding your stalker.

He doesn’t take this kindly as Bill had a tendency to watch him closely, so much so to the point that every time he was out in the woods he felts as though he was being watched, surveyed and observed like he was nothing sort of a experiment.

Gives you his crossbow to shot the bastard between the eyes because the was legal right? Well it is in certain dimensions and he’ll be damned if he didn’t give you something to protect yourself with if something bad were to happen.

He doesn’t trust the police, he thinks their incompetent and can’t do their jobs for shit. So he’ll take justice into his own hands by digging up as much dirt as he could on the person by enlisting some help from his most trusted friends.

But most importantly Ford makes sure you’re okay, makes you reassured and doesn’t make you feel shit for feeling like you were being watched, stalked and harassed online by someone who doesn’t know their boundaries. He’s still recovering rom his own experience with a psychopath (bill), and will make sure that you learn to heal and move on together by being a constant and reassuring presence within your life. A positive force that kept you safe and made sure you were okay at the beginning and end of every day.

He wants you to live your life freely, not scared of the outside.

If he sees that your being harassed online, Ford will make sure that the stalkers details are leaked to the public by whatever means necessary along with the creepy tendencies they have been known for but punished far too lightly for by the system that protects these creeps.

(Ford may sick the gnomes on the twat, claiming he had found them the perfect gnome royalty for them and see how they like it.)

[quadrantadvisor]

DPxDC Danny/Jason Soulmates AU WIP

-

Jason's timer read 044389:21:08, when the display suddenly went dark. 44,389 hours. Five years, 24 days, 13 hours, 21 minutes, and 8 seconds until he was fated to meet his soulmate.

Or not. Because the time stopped.

It wasn’t supposed to happen. He did his research, and with the resources at his disposal (namely, a batcomputer,) he knew for a fact that there should be no way to defy the fate of a timer. People had tried. Avoidance, isolation, putting a hit out on your own suspected soulmate. Nothing worked. Trying to delay the inevitable put you on the path to meet it. Sure, there were people who lamented the unfairness of their own situation, who were devastated they never got time with their soulmate, famous deaths on opposite sides of a battle, etc. But soulmates always, always met eachother, face to face.

Not him, though. His soulmate was dead. Five years early.

Bruce didn’t get it. Dick wouldn’t talk about it. Alfred only looked at him with pity in his eyes.

Jason wasn’t sad that he was the only person on the planet who’d never meet his soulmate. He was fucking angry, because it wasn’t fucking fair. It was another person in his life who was supposed to care about him that he’d never get to have.

So when he found out he had a mom, somewhere out there, who he’d never had the chance to meet… he had to go. How could he not?

-

It was Sam who noticed, when it happened. Danny had just finished a stupid fight with Boxy, and he, Sam, and Tucker were finally ready to call it a night. Danny de-transformed and grinned, shaking the thermos proudly. “Gonna get these guys back into the Ghost Zone,” he said, when suddenly-

“Danny!” Sam yelped, and snatched at his arm.

Danny stumbled, nearly dropping his precious cargo. “Whoa, Sam, what-?’ he stopped, looking as she turned over his arm, baring his wrist.

His timer was dark, like people who’s soulmates were dead. The numbers still showed, faintly, but they were stationary. The countdown had stopped.

Ice spread through Danny’s veins, like the cold that rushed through him when he went ghost, but worse, so much worse.

Danny’s ghost form didn’t have a timer, which honestly freaked him out, but as a human it had always behaved completely normally. When he turned back, it would be there, the time having elapsed just the way it was supposed to. It had been so reassuring. He was alive. He’d make it at least five more years, and be able to meet his soulmate, who would hopefully be able to accept him the way he was. He wanted that so badly. He wanted someone beyond his friends to talk to, to know him as a person and a ghost. He wanted to not be afraid anymore.

He’d just passed the five year mark, not that long ago. He’d been so excited to be that much closer to someone so important.

And now something was horribly wrong.

“Dude, that’s jacked up,” Tucker said, noticing the problem with wide eyes.

“Did anything happen today?” Sam asked, her expression hardened with determination. “Did you notice anything weird while you were transformed?”

Danny shook his head. “No, no it- it was running while we were at school, and we’ve been fighting ghosts since then. I don’t know when it would’ve…” Danny could barely make himself speak. “Is it my fault?” he said, almost to himself. “Did I spend too much time as a ghost and it just-”

Sam gripped at his hand. “No, Danny, it isn’t your fault. Whatever the problem is, we’re going to figure it out, okay?”

“Yeah man,” Tucker added, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, maybe your parents can actually help this time? Weird magic science is kinda their thing, right?”

Sam looked less sure, but nodded all the same. “You’re going to meet your soulmate. Okay?”

“Okay,” Danny said, quiet, looking down at the stopped numbers on his wrist.

-

Edit: Added a readmore

[kykyonthemoon]

Hello, i've read your work recently and i'm in love with your writing! If you mind can i ask where the reader somehow remember their past life and saying sorry to the love and deepspace character? I wonder about their reaction where mc feels really guilty at them. Thank you <3

Dear lonely-dreamer,

Thank you so much for the request. It took awhile but I finally managed to finish it. Since we know too little about Sylus (or even Caleb), I wrote for only the 3 first MLs. I might write something else for Sylus and Caleb later :3

Hope you like this piece. Have a wonderful day!

Lost. Found.

When you suddenly find the memories of the past lives, which you once lived with him.

── .✦ Character x Female Reader|MC

Included parts in order: Rafayel, Xavier, Zayne.

♡︎. Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, short, myths related.

♡︎. Word count: 2k1

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic - currently closed.

Roam on, my love

down life's

long road

we will

be lost

and found

a thousand times

before

we meet again.

— ATTICUS.

Rafayel

Talia came to find Rafayel in the middle of the night, while you were still half asleep, feeling his warmth slowly fade from the space next to you in bed. You sensed a major event had happened, which was why Talia hurried here alone at such a dark hour, looking so terrified. 

You had intended to go downstairs and make some tea for the guest. But as soon as you reached the stairs, Talia's voice echoed through the half-open door. 

"He will not be the last Lemurian to be slain... You know that, don't you, Rafayel? That we don't have any time left..."

Your bare feet paused. The cold air from the stone stairway touched your palm, waking you up. Yes, you were no longer dreaming. This was real. As real as everything you had seen since touching that protocore. During a mission last month, you happened to resonate with a strange protocore. It caused you to perceive illusions, but not quite so. They were like recollections from your past lives, fragmented and sewn together in front of your eyes.  The feud between you and Rafayel from a long, long time ago.

So you were aware that your tale and what Talia had said were related. Rafayel’s silence made her even more impatient. She added:

“They want her, Rafayel. They will come for you. I can’t convince them anymore… They will find her sooner or later. You already know the price…”

Time passed slowly in the dark corridor. You understood everything Talia had said, that the girl was you. What the Lemurians desired was inside your chest. You remembered, not everything, but vivid dreams told you what you had done to the Lemurians, to Rafayel.

But it wasn’t you. It was a completely unfamiliar version of you. 

A moment after Talia left, you entered the room. The warm firelight from the enormous fireplace filled the room and illuminated Rafayel's slumped back. When he heard your footsteps, he turned around with a feeble smile and asked: 

“Why are you out here, my princess? Did I and our unexpected guest awaken you?” 

You gazed at him for a brief moment. After all, you understood that every time he called you princess, it was not just a loving pet name.

You moved closer and hugged Rafayel. You had not told him about your dreams or what you had recalled. That night, you were determined to tell him everything.

Rafayel was astonished. The warm firelight in his eyes blurred, and pure white pearls began to tumble to the floor.

“I’m sorry… Rafayel… I’m so sorry…”

Rafayel seized your hands, drew them closer, and kissed them with his lips.

"To be loved, it's not a sin."

His fingers tenderly wiped the tears from your face. He had waited so long for you to discover who you really were, and at the same time he hoped you would never know. That way you could live your days freely, not bound by the hatred of the past. Yet you still remembered everything.

Your breathing became heavy with each sob. You said: 

“Rafayel… If you want my heart…”

"I want it to stay there," Rafayel said. "Within your chest. It's yours. Across the past, present, and future. I have never once regretted giving it to you. If you remember, you know I always try to rewrite our story, right?”

“But the Lemurians…”

“They are losing faith in me. I understand. But all I need is your faith. We will get through this and never be apart again. Do you understand?”

You did not dare to believe that there might truly be a happy ending for you and Rafayel. But in that moment, as you gazed into his resolute eyes, you realized that you would do everything just to stay with him.

Xavier 

Lately, you had a hunch that Xavier was going to leave. 

Ever since you returned from that mission, there appeared to be an unseen divide between you two. You knew it was not him, it was you. The mysterious protocore you accidentally came into contact with during the mission caused you to see things. The dreams were fractured, with no beginning or end. However, you comprehended them as if they were recollections from your former lives.

You kept it hidden from Xavier. He merely thought you were acting odd since you returned, but he would not compel you to say anything against your will. You secretly searched for evidence to back up what you suspected. And you found it.

You knew about the Backtracker fleet. You knew about Philos. And you knew about Lumiere.

Xavier kept everything hidden for your safety. And yet, you kept this a secret because you did not wish for him to suffer. Again.

You still did not know what to say to him, or how to compensate for his loss. He had sacrificed so much, for you. But somewhere inside, you still felt a little resentful that he had left you all alone. You knew he was ready to make the same decision as when he abandoned you at Philos.

“Go to bed early.” Xavier stroked your head gently. “In a few days, when you wake up, I’ll be by your side.”

Lie.

“Do you really have to go?” You hesitated. “I mean… You could have refused this mission.”

You could have stayed. You could have told me the truth.

"I have to go." Xavier responded. He gently squeezed your cheek. "But I'll be back shortly. Do not worry too much. Remember to eat well and skip any meals. Don't stay awake too late. It's getting colder; remember to stay warm. If you are bored and miss me, you may play the video games I recently purchased or watch the unfinished movies..."

It sounds like you're not coming back! You held back the tears and replied:

“If you don’t come back soon, I might have to watch them all by myself.”

“Then I’ll have to ask you to tell me the plots.” Xavier smiled. He lightly kissed your forehead. “I’ll leave now.”

You sat on the sofa, listening to his footsteps as they slowly walked away. A slight "click" was heard as the door closed.

His mission was only an excuse. A few days back, you overheard him and Jeremiah talking. He intended to use this expedition to stage a phony "missing case" to distract those who had betrayed him. With Jeremiah, he would lead them away from Linkon, away from you.

He chose to leave you. Again.

Warm tears streamed down your cheeks.  All alone, what should you do? You recalled the scene in the past, in which you sat on the throne with the blessings of so many people, yet absolutely on your own. You had counted every star waiting for the day Xavier would return to you as promised. But he had completely disappeared.

This time, he pledged to return to you. This time, he would also break his promise.

You brushed the tears away. You had been thinking a lot in the last several days. You still blamed Xavier, but you understood why he had done so. And you had distanced yourself from him since you were unsure how to confront him. But, at this point, none of that mattered when you might lose Xavier again. Forever.

You raced out of the home. You did not care about the past. You had no concern what the future held. The most important thing to you right that moment was Xavier alone.

Unable to wait for the elevator, you decided to run. You caught Xavier standing outside, likely waiting for Jeremiah. You hurried over to embrace his back. To Xavier's amazement and your weeping, you stated:

“Don’t go… Xavier… Don’t leave me alone again… I’m sorry that I assumed you left me to find your true star… I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, that ever since I touched that protocore, I started remembering what happened in Philos… I know who you are. Who I am… So don’t think you can fool me again… This time, I’ll go wherever you go. Let me face it with you, okay?…”

Xavier did not have time to respond. You could feel his entire body shudder as a burning tear fell onto your hand, which he had just squeezed so tightly.

Zayne 

"Doctor Zayne is out of danger. You can come in." Greyson's voice sounded out. Yvonne stood alongside him, relieved. You nodded at each of them and entered the hospital ward.

How strange, since in all the previous cases, it was Zayne standing here, and you were the one lying on the bed.

There was an attack on the outskirts of Linkon. You were sent to investigate, and Zayne had accompanied his team from Akso Hospital to treat the injured. While fighting the Wanderers, you encountered a peculiar protocore. It had drawn you into a bizarre realm where you appeared to glimpse the lives you had once lived, with Zayne.

You were not sure how long you had been there. It was like a dream, with no sense of time or who you were. You were lost down there, so deep that Zayne had given up everything to find you. The real Zayne, yours, in this timeline. 

The price of bringing you back was him lying there, fighting for every breath, body covered in wounds and almost completely frozen. 

The price of bringing you back was him laying there, battling for every breath, his body covered in wounds and almost frozen. 

You lightly stroke his frigid hand. Zayne did not respond but his heartbeat remained steady. He would live. That was what Greyson told you, and it was all you held on to that moment. 

Hope.

You stayed by his bedside all night, breathing life and all of your love into Zayne’s hands. When the first rays of the morning light woke you and the warmth returned to him, his eyes fluttered and gradually opened. You squeezed his hand.

“Zayne… Zayne… You're here!…” You cried out. You called for him and not completely him, but the Zayne of all the lives you had found.

Tears began to trickle down your pale cheeks. Zayne carefully wiped them away.

“Why are you crying?… I… did not go anywhere…”

You grabbed his hand and pressed your face against it. You kissed his hand aggressively, as if you were scared he would disappear again. 

“I don’t believe you anymore… You lied… You always said that I would live a happy life in the end… But then, you vanished without a trace… Did you think you could fool me again this time?” 

Zayne’s pupils widened. In an instant, his reaction shifted from astonishment to joy, then despair.

“I…”

"You know, right?" You dried your tears, halting whatever he was about to say. “You know that we don’t have just this one life. Right? You know that you disappeared in front of me in the jasmine field… You left me seeking for you among mountains and hills… This time, you really intended to leave me again… Do you believe that I could really live happily in a world without you?” You let out all your pent-up emotions through each word, each tear. Zayne stared at you with a mix of anguish and joy. You were aware of the same thing he was.

"I'm sorry…" Zayne spoke softly. His fingers cradled your chin and softly elevated your face. 

“Why should you apologize?… After all… The one who is most at fault is me… Because of meeting me, Zayne…” 

You trailed off. Choking. Your entire body trembled as emotions came to the surface. Zayne struggled to sit up, then drew you into his arms and embraced you hard. 

“Because of meeting you, I learned what it means to love someone. Because of meeting you, my world is no longer lost in ice and snow… I chose you. It will always be you…”

You let out another sob. You clutched to Zayne. “I’m sorry… I’m really… I’m sorry…” 

Zayne's weight was resting on your head as he kissed your hair. He rubbed your back to soothe you, like he always did. 

“It's alright now… It’s alright… When I came to find you and get you out of the protofield, I thought I wouldn’t have the strength to go back anymore… Yet I heard you calling my name all night long… You helped me find my way back. You found me. You saved me… This time, I have no intention of letting you go ever again.”

[belovedcloud]

One Bed

pairing: leon kennedy x fem! agent! reader

✎ synopsis: who knew saving the president's daughter was so tiring? only you and leon knew the treacherous steps towards the hotel room that was supposed to rejuvenate you both. only for him to open the door and to see one bed.

✎ notes: omg hey everyone. it has been months since my last post and thank you so much for the love on 'such a sweetheart'. i needed a hiatus from writing and i hope you guys love this one bed trope! it's not proofread so sorry if there are mistakes but i am way too lazy to read over it all. love you guys.

➤ WC: 5K

➤ CW: you helped leon save ashley, one bed trope duh, touch starved leon, kisses, petnames, cowgirl, tired sex, p in v, unprotected sex, leon cums on you.

Who knew saving the president's daughter would be so exhausting? The whole ordeal was strenuous to your muscles and mental state. A good nights rest was what you needed after the catastrophe you just encountered. Luckily, you were able to squeeze a shower before getting to the hotel. The idea of mud, bodily fluids and blood was too much to handle for any longer than necessary. Though, if it wasn't for Leon - you probably wouldn't be around currently. Being mission partners with him allowed you to understand his perspective on bioweapons and whatnot.

Without a doubt, he hated them. Despised even. This was a common viewpoint, but his hate went far beyond the normal eye.

It was best not to pry. You couldn't class yourselves as friends, just work partners. Agents who fought the living dead and anything else that came in your way. The undead was a sensitive topic to Leon. What could he have went through?

Leon's life was one of pure terror ever since he was victimised to Raccoon City. The first day on the job completely different to others who joined for the first time. Unlocking padlocks were for survival, not for fun. Reading notes left from other officers who already found their fate was disturbing. The scribbles on the paper led him out. To safety he had hoped. No. Safety was not an option that day - his welfare was tarnished every second.

Now being forced into the workforce of the government wasn't any better. Probably even worse. Time and time again Leon would feel the cold metal pressed against his temple, shakily holding the gun to his head. The index finger aching to snap the trigger to blast his brains out. Yet the same reasoning withheld him from doing so. What if another incident like Raccoon City happened in the near future? He was hired to help others - to dispose of the horrors of the world without alarming the population.

Having you as his partner was a struggle and a blessing.

His communicative state from when he was 21 was now gone. A rookie turned agent against his will led him to be colder than others. Leon kept to himself most of the time, here and there giving you a few pointers on how you can effective pop a flash grenade or what to do in a sticky situation. You reflected how he was 6 years ago. A 21 year old who was excited to start at a police department - you were an agent who was motivated to save others. Your actions held such kindness to him. No prying or none of those snickering comments he would get from the other agents at base.

Just peace.

So mentally speaking, he didn't mind having to share a room with you in this crammed hotel. It was a Saturday so it was expected. Though, other patrons would be coming here to have a one night stand or a relaxing time away from their family... you both just needed rest.

Sluggish movements paved their way to the door number, 012. You and him clinging onto your duffel bags silently. It was an awkward silence, a silence that hung below you both as he fumbled with the key card in his hand. Scanning it through to unlock the barrier between you both and the comfort of the beds that laid inside.

Beds. Or... bed?

Your eyes scan the room. Continuously trying to seek out the other bed that should be here. You examine the footing of it, seeing that it's a double bed instead of 2 singles. Great. The dumbfounded look on your face is almost laughable as the situation dawns on you. You were in a room with Leon and it only consisted of one bed for the both of you.

There were a few ways to go about this. You either both sleep in the same bed together or one takes the bed and the other finds another place to rest. Looking around, it appears that the only viable option would be the cracked leather arm chair, resting solo in the corner. Thinking about it, you were willing to give yourself a crick in your neck to save yourself from the embarrassment of sharing the bed with the other agent.

Leon thought otherwise. The brisk movement of the gear belt slung over the armchair with his duffel bag smacked down in the centre. He was tired, over the bullshit that he just fought - he couldn't care less if he had to share a bed.

"Looks like they forgot a bed huh?" He joked sarcastically, stretching his limbs. The strain of his muscles was visible, undoubtably attractive. Leon carried himself enchantingly, you wanted to learn more about him as every second passed. A sigh leaves his throat whilst he sat down on the bed, continuously stretching. The shirt riding up slightly, giving you a chance to avert your eyes to the uncovered skin. His v-line was on show, the dip down soon stopped by the fabric of his cargos. The shirt he was wearing was a tight fit, letting the muscles of his biceps become visible to the naked eye and the shape of his pecs becoming more noticeable the more you looked.

At least you had a bed in the room? That was the only positive you could find from this when removing your gear off your body. Slinging it into the corner of the room alongside your bag. You both are exhausted from the long day, so you were thankful there's at least a bed to share.

"I'm gonna hop in the shower real quick..." His movements are swift, already gripping onto his shirt he reveals his back to you - throwing the shirt on the floor beforehand. Multiple scars are littered faintly around the skin but the more distinguishable thing is his muscles. Leon's toned body calls out to you as his shoulder to waist ratio is insane. A slim waist, broad shoulders, it all speaks to you. You can feel your body speaking back as you look at him a little longer than expected.

Your little fangirling sesh is over when he shuts the bathroom door behind him - you let a breath you didn't know you withheld. Well, all you could do was wait for him to finish his shower before you could have one. The pitter patter of the water hitting the shower floor is heard before it dies down - giving you a mental note that Leon was now cleaning himself. Why are you even thinking about this?

Leon lets out a sigh once the hot water hits his body. An instant relieving feeling flowing through him as he just stands there for a minute. Soaking in the greatness of water before grabbing the washcloth and shower gel nicely provided by the hotel staff. Squeezing the bottle, a dollop of soap smothers the cloth before he runs it across his body.

Humming can be heard whilst he cleanses his body, ensuring to dispose of all the sweat and dirt from their recent mission. Reflecting back on the situation, he started to feel a bit nervous having to share a bed with you tonight. You were pretty, very pretty to him. He mentally scolded himself whilst he ran the cloth down his chest - his mind returning back to you. A soft moan elicited out of his lips made his hand smack his face. Leon wasn't sure why he was feeling this way. Instinctive movements of him washing himself in motion, his fingers manoeuvring the washcloth on autopilot as his mind focused on you. He can't help but think about you some more, remembering your cute smile when you would hand him a cup of coffee at base. Or your simple gestures of making sure he was comfortable and how you reserved yourself around him made his heart skip a beat.

It had been a while since he thought about someone romantically, his job stripping him of any personal life as the thought of the multitude of viruses around the world was increasing each day. But now, deep down... he could feel an attraction to you. Leon wasn't sure if it was sexual or genuine love - it would be too soon to tell. However, this feeling was deep rooted within, his mind wanted to show you love. His heart longing for someone.

A sentiment he had not felt in a while.

Trying to calm his heart down from going into cardiac arrest, giving himself a mental pep talk - trying not to think about you too much. He shuts off the water soon after and grabs the white towel neatly folded on top of the counter cabinet. Rubbing himself dry and wrapping it around his waist - tightening it slightly. He doesn't want an accident to happen.

Your mind shuts off as you hear footsteps in the bathroom. He was out. Okay. Do you look away when he opens the door? Leon doesn't give you time to think as the door creaks open, revealing himself into the main room. His bare chest and hair still damp for show. Jesus Christ. His damped skin looks good in the dim light, as if he had displayed himself just for you. He notices you sitting tensely on the bed, his body approached you. Blue eyes instantly drifting to your body and lingering for a second before he snaps out of it.

"I needed that..." He groans out, sitting beside you. You mentally slap yourself as you snap your thoughts back to the present.

"Yeah I bet, I already had a shower before we got here so I'm alright." Your response is meek, but at least you had something to respond with.

The man next to you raises his eyebrows at you in slight surprise, he wasn't expecting you to have already taken a shower - but by the look of it, you did look super clean compared to him before. Perhaps you had it when he was getting questioned at base for the report of the mission. Leon tries to keep his eyes focused on your face and not your body. "Oh lucky you," he replied with a smirk.

"I couldn't stand all the random liquids on me, it was disgusting." A chuckle leaves you when you remember looking at yourself in the mirror. Gross... but at least you could laugh at yourself for getting in such a mess? "You were subjected to most of the mess to be honest." Leon chortled out, reminiscing on your reaction when you had novistador blood all over you.

Your conversation with him was cut short when you both recalled the situation laid opened to the two of you. One bed, two agents. It seemed childish that you couldn't think the both of you could share a bed - it was just awkward. Really awkward.

"I can take the floor if you want?" The sound of your voice cuts through the silence, Leon replayed the question in his head before shaking his head. "Don't be ridiculous, I'm not letting you sleep on this cold ass floor." His eyes averted to the hardwood floor, indicating that your question was out of order.

"You want to share the bed then?" This question to Leon was better, he really didn't mind another person next to him whilst he slept. Recalling past moments, he's slept through worse. "We're both adults here. We can share the bed, it won't be bad." A calm response from the agent. What more could you expect?

Your reluctant nod allows him to get back up to look through the wardrobe in the hotel room. A couple extra blankets stored alongside some pyjamas that the workforce provided for both of you. You two were granted a pair of sweatpants and black top - your eyes brightened up, realising you weren't having to sleep in fresh gear wear.

"I'll go in the bathroom to change, you can change here." An authoritative tone left him, not giving you a chance to speak back before he returned back into the bathroom. Scurrying over to the open wardrobe, you hand picked your pyjamas - undressing yourself from the imprisonment of your current clothes to something a lot more baggy and comfortable. A sigh let loose from you, your body mindlessly walking over to the bed and plopping down on the edge. The mattress aiding in soothing your back from the hellish ride you attuned escaping the island.

A yawn seeped through your lips, hazily looking at your phone screen at the time, 01:24... It really was time to rest. Though, the thought of Leon couldn't leave your mind. He plagued your brain - a part of you didn't complain.

A sound of a door creaking open embarked into your ears, Leon had changed into his nightclothes. The tank top fit snugly on his body however, the pair of sweatpants seemed a little baggy. Clearly a little too big for him since they were hanging dangerously low on his hips. He was plain exhausted. His limbs gradually moved him to the bed that you two were about to share. Sinking his body into the mattress as the sheets hugged his frame.

Minutes passed, a silence rose in the room. Leon's back laid restfully whilst scrolling through countless media apps to pass the time. His mind wandering back to you. The heat emanating his body contradicted with the cold expression on his face. Why was he so hard to read? You couldn't tell if he was even comfortable with the idea of sharing a bed with you. Your body laid on it's side, staring at him brazenly. Forgetting that your eyes were peering at his body, Leon's gaze averted to you - an eyebrow raised on his face.

"You alright?" His question caught you off guard; no you weren't okay. Not when he was so close to you, the faint smell of him seeping into your senses. You genuinely couldn't be okay in this situation.

"Mhm, m'alright. Just tired." Leon's eyes glanced at you and his eyes shamelessly roamed over your body before he forced himself to look back down at the device in his hand. 'What the hell are you doing?' The question rung in his mind over and over again as he thought about you. There was no denying the fact that he found you incredibly attractive - but for you to be his work partner... It was unprofessional for such thoughts to occur in his mind. Shakily putting down the phone in his grasp he spoke. "You should get some rest, it's getting late."

Like rest was an option. Turning you head towards him, a twinge of irritation was mixed in with your voice. "I know, it's just.. it's hard to sleep right now." The idea of you and him so close was making your head foggy, especially now since he rolled onto his side - discarding his phone on the bedside table. He now faced you, noticing the tone of your voice. Was there something bothering you?

"Why's it hard?" It was starting to click in Leon's head that them sharing a bed may have made you nervous. Scared perhaps. Analysing your expression, he was observant in your body language. A hint of worry trespassed his vision whilst he watched you silently - waiting for you to continue. His head in his hand, inaudibly taking notice of how pretty you look. Completely captivated from your features, he shook his head to clear his mind.

"We're sharing a bed, now I know there's nothing between us but it's just... weird? No offence! Like you're not weird you know that I just-" Realising you were rambling, a heavy sigh left your lips. It was hard trying to compose yourself, particularly because Leon was looking at you. He didn't look confused nor grossed out.. just enamoured. Lovesick eyes boring into yours when he heard you ramble for a moment.

A slight chuckle was brought out from him when you mentioned the closeness between the two of you, a small idea crossed his mind about how your body was mere inches away from his. He swallowed before speaking. "None taken, I get it. Sharing a bed can be kinda intimate huh?" He found it rather cute that you were so antsy. "But I'm glad we have a bed..."

Leon was right, you convinced yourself nothing was weird - staring at the cream coloured ceiling. A light huff was let out of Leon's nose. "Just try and relax," he mumbled, unsure on how to comfort you. Watching you snuggle under the covers, a slight smile spread across his face.

"Cute."

Leon surprised himself that he mumbled it out loud, his body tensing from the fear that reigned his body. Mentally face palming himself, rapidly looking away from you. Reprimanding himself for being so stupid to let it slip out.

After a moment, a lower voice was heard from him. "I mean- Ugh, sorry I didn't mean to make this so awkward." Shifting himself further from you, feeling ashamed of himself - you stop him from almost falling off the bed. "No no, it's fine!" Your efforts of comforting him didn't help him as it was clear he was still embarrassed. Leon's mind kept recalling the scene, shouldered with how attractive you were.

"I meant it." He stated. Leon had no clue where this confidence in him was coming from, but he hoped it wouldn't run out any time soon. The look on your face made him feel less nervous. A shocked expression plastered all over you - stuttering not knowing what to say. He found you to be the prettiest woman he had ever seen, the kindest too. Looking back at it all, he registered all along he had a little thing for you. You respected him, valued his need for privacy and want to be unjudged. Not many knew of his situation and Leon's involvement in Raccoon City. You didn't even know, you never pried.

Shamelessly, a fat smile shone on your face. Leon's expression softened as he found himself in awe. His body itched, craving your touch. Your love. This renowned love blossomed within him.

"You're cute too." That one sentence could make his heart stop if he really went into deep thought about it. Leon never really found himself to be that attractive, yeah his muscles were good in some aspect in his eyes. He did train well, he gave himself that. After all, he was the one many depended on to save the abundance of sick problems this once calm world faced.

Another silence was shared between the two of you - not one of awkwardness but one of solace. Leon didn't feel distressed, he felt calm. You brought out a side of him which he believed was gone. The side being the young man who wasn't scared of the future. A time where he was happy within himself and oblivious. All he could picture was you. You and him happily being each other's bridge.

Each other's home.

"I'm glad we got that out of the way." A breathless voice cut you both out of your trances. Leon flickering his view on you. Your face, those beautiful eyes staring into his own. The soft lips of yours calling out to him. Your bare neck, a blank canvas for his kisses and bites. His eyes then averted to the base of your neck, your chest covered by the black shirt you wore. Feeling his stare, the burning sensation in your cheeks rose. "What... what now?" The scary question was imprinted in your mind. It was obvious you both had a thing for each other, yet what were you going to do about it? Perhaps a relationship could happen between the both of you; would you both just stay work partners?

"Can I.. can I hold you?" Vulnerability was present in Leon's voice. He craved to touch your skin, his fingers twitching slightly from the excitement. Touch starved. That was the true definition of Leon's love life right now. He hadn't involved himself in relationship matters for years and now that the chance popped up with you, he would take what he could get.

You didn't even say yes, your body spoke for you. Wrapping your arms around his chest - you could feel his heartbeat. Rapid pumps thudded into your ear. Strong arms hugged you back clearly stating silently that Leon couldn't let you go. You'd be surprised if his shirt didn't have an imprint of your face since you were so close against him. Breaking free slightly, your head popped up - looking up at him. You were presented with his Adam's apple, slowly bobbing up and down as he swallowed looking down at you. The rough bump alluring you in whilst your hazy eyes lingered on the skin of his neck. Moles sparsely speckled all over his skin. God had crafted Leon himself, you were sure of it.

Moreover, the heat from his body lingered around you. Creating an invisible fortress of affection and love as both of you stared at each other.

A shaky hand pressed against the skin of your cheek, calloused pads caressing you. "You're so pretty." Leon mumbled, shifting a bit. Your touch to him granted him a sense of warmth, he even leaned into it a little - subconsciously seeking comfort. You brought out the 'weak' side of him, it felt nice for him to let down his guard and be himself around you. He let out a pleased hum as he cuddled you, the hold over you was tight. To you, it seemed like he was starved for physical contact and was finally getting the human touch he deserved.

What happened next was a blur, to both of you anyway. The stare-off between his blue eyes and your own turned into your faces being so close together; guaranteed to kiss. An eskimo kiss shared with him, the tips of both your noses touching. Lips hovering over his, your whisper snaps him out of his daze. "Thank you..." Your gratitude granted you a chuckle from Leon but his mind seemed to be elsewhere.

Leon continued to stare at you but to pinpoint, he was eying at your lips. They looked so soft, the mere sight of them making his heart race more. He swallowed hard, his mind clouded with the vision of kissing you. An overwhelming sense of desire passing through him - it was need. But at the same time, he knew he couldn't just go in for a kiss; not without consent. Yet he craved to feel his lips against yours.

"Can I kiss you?" His mumbled whisper echoed through your ears. Were you hearing him correctly?

Kiss? You?

Besides, it's not like you were going to straight out reject him. That wasn't even possible in this situation with him; pressed so close against you that you could feel his rock hard boner pressing against your thigh. A nimble nod from you responding to his question was all he needed.

Leon's lips are soft, softer than you would expect. Sweet little kisses are shared, melting you into him. His hands now run down your back, rubbing your skin through the cotton shirt. He hums, tilting your head slightly back to get a better angle. It feels messy as saliva is shared between the two of you. A soft whine escaping you when Leon breaks away. Reining you back in, he gives you another kiss. Pure passion and love interweaved in it.

Kisses soon turn into touches as your fingers manoeuvre around his torso, slowly digging your fingers into him - eliciting a groan out his mouth. His touch on you becomes possessive, kneading your skin in his hands. Leon holds you close and after a few minutes, you find yourself on his lap. His hands automatically went to your hips, gripping you tight as his eyes locked onto yours. Those blue eyes of his roamed your body shamelessly whilst he held you against him, taking in the view of your straddling his hips.

You could feel the hard-on beneath you, begging for some friction. Subconsciously, your hips start to rock slightly, Leon takes full control as he guides you. There was no way he could stop right now, not with how his body was aching so badly and having you on his lap like this. "Can we take this slow? We're both... really tired." A yawn escapes you mid sentence, you can feel yourself getting tired and wet.

"Yeah, we can take this slow. Anything you want love." The nickname shoots desire right into your veins, the rasp in his voice concocted with a tired sigh as he watches you grind on him is heavenly. Shuddering from his touch, Leon brings you down to lay on him - adjusting you on his lap. Your foreheads touch, all you can see is love in his eyes. Leon's fingers tug on your shirt, a breathless chuckle leaving him before he asks the question. "Can I take this off?" He can't help but want to see you, feel you - caress the smoothness of your skin on the pads of his fingers. Hearing you say the word "yes" made his hands work in a fast fashion as your torso was soon left bare.

"So beautiful..." He sat you back up, feeling your flesh mould in-between his fingers. Leon ached for you, he wanted to have more energy to give you the proper fucking you deserved. However, the past mission and the strain it had on both of your bodies exempted him from treating you the way he wanted. So he had to settle for soft, gentle sex. Just like you wanted.

Rapid breathing contradicted the mellow touches shared between you both, your hips continuously rocking slowly before he lifts you up slightly - removing the same sweatpants that were already dangerously low. You're face to face with his boxers, a clear wet patch showcasing the pre-cum that leaked out of his tip.

"See what you do to me?" Leon groaned out, palming himself slowly - your eyes following his every movement. He was enchanting nonetheless, alluring you in with every pump he did to himself. Leon's mind was fogged with you, the view of you turning every cell in his brain insane. He seriously couldn't get enough of your watchful eyes scanning his hand; viewing the pornographic sight in front of you.

Although once again he did think to make this the best sex he's had in a while, it was obvious you both were too tired to even do anything remotely crazy that night. So plain ole cowgirl it is.

Quick work was made for your sweatpants as they were easily tossed to the floor, your panties being the the second piece of protection between you and Leon's boxers straining his dick in place. His hands guided you still, the subtle movements rocking back on forth bringing both of you a sense of release you both needed. Silken kisses bringing out a wave of passion. Playing with the band of his boxers - a dark look appeared in his gaze.

"Impatient?" The mere one word question could've left you astonished if you weren't so hazy from being aroused. Of course you were impatient. He was the embodiment of seduction. "Well, yeah." A laugh escaped both Leon's and you, your eyes boring into his.

"Shouldn't keep you waiting should I?"

Sliding your panties to the side; pulling his boxers down, it was easy for his cock to slide in. Eliciting a deep moan from the both of you as kisses were shared once again. Leon couldn't believe how good you felt, he already felt pussy drunk. The two of you shared tired eyes and low whimpers whilst your hips rocked back and forth.

"You're so pretty..." Leon mumbled out, dazed out of his mind looking at how your body synchronised with his. The way his dick was slipping in and out of you, pressing into that sweet spot of yours. How were you so pretty? And how did you already make such a mess? Glancing down, his eyes followed to the feeling of wetness coating the base of his cock - your inner thighs glistening from how wet you were. Completely mesmerised, Leon looked up at you with pure love and lust.

You couldn't talk, not when all your throat could conjure was the moans and low screams as his hips started to jerk up slightly - thrusting himself further in you. Holding onto the bedframe keeping you both afloat, your mumbles tried to alert him from the upcoming orgasm reaching you. "Mmph... L-Leon, I..." was all you could muster. It was the only coherent thing he could understand before feeling you tighten up.

"That's it baby, keep going." The softness in his voice juxtaposed the way his hips were snapping up and down, Leon couldn't help it. Your pussy felt too good wrapped around him. He had to put in the last of his energy to making you feel good at least. Lazily, his hand slowly reached your clothed clit - his fingers slowly rubbing the fabric of your panties. The perfect amount of friction to make your bundle of nerves become overstimulated whilst being stuffed full.

Your tired eyes locked with his, feeling yourself getting closer to seventh heaven. A small smirk plastered on Leon's face, watching you breathlessly whilst his dick twitched too.

"Gotta pull out..." He murmured, his fingers making you reach the pinnacle of your orgasm. "L-Leon!" All you could do was shudder on-top of him, feeling the remaining energy in you seep out alongside your orgasm. Collapsing onto him, Leon subtly slipped himself out, painting your clit and lower stomach with his cum. A low hum leaving him as he kissed the nape of your neck. "You did so well."

Panting heavily, your moan responded to his words. Chuckling to himself, Leon held you close whilst sitting up. Grabbing a few tissues in the box to wipe your tummy.

"Come on, let's get cleaned up."

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! thank u for reading :)

-> masterlist

[tender-rosiey]

Can u do a drabble with jjk men where their child gets into a physical fight?

"MY KID IS NOT GUILTY, YOUR HONOR!"

— when your kid with gojo, sukuna, nanami, geto, and toji gets into a fight (f!reader)

GOJO SATORU:

your husband happily swings your hands together, as you walk to the principal’s office. meanwhile, you’re worried sick about s/n and what happened to him.

satoru rubs your hand reassuringly before slamming the door open and yelling, “did you win?!”

your eyes widen, but before you interject, s/n replies back enthusiastically, “yes, I did!”

you hurry to your son, kneeling in front of him to check him thoroughly.

you let out a sigh of relief when you see that he isn’t hurt in any way. sensing your distress, he hugs you. “I missed you, mama,” he says, snuggling into your neck.

“me too,” you smile and almost get lost in the moment, but then you hear a camera shutter. you look back and see your husband, holding a camera.

“oops, don’t mind me, hun.”

the dad of the other boy—who you didn’t notice was even there—stands up, livid, “can you take this a bit more seriously?! my son is injured!”

you’re about to reply yourself, but then satoru beats you to it. he stands right in front of the man and looks down at him, “surely, you’re not yelling at my wife, right?”

the man stumbles back into his chair, and satoru stares him down, making him sink even further into the chair.

the mother then speaks to you, “what your son did is unacceptable! look at how my baby is right now!”

looking at the other boy, you decide that the mother has every right to be mad. his nose is bleed profusely. you’re pretty sure it’s broken.

you look at your son and quirk an eyebrow, “s/n? what happened?”

“I was showing my friends the picture I got of you, and he said you were ugly! he can’t do that!”

your husband turns back and gasps, “he did what?!”

as if the dad himself is the one that is getting scolded, his eyes get teary.

meanwhile, you see the mother whispering to the boy, and he nods, ashamed. she looks back at you and says, “however, what your son did is not acceptable.”

“I know that the reaction was a bit much, but what your son did is also unacceptable,” you answer with your son nodding behind you.

“well—can you not be so close to my husband?” she snaps at satoru, whose cursed energy is increasing.

“you and your husband need to get taught a lesson if you raise a kid that’s so stupid he thinks my beautiful, divinie, and drop dead gorgeous wife is ugly,” he states, and the lady finds herself shrinking back beside her husband.

the little boy also scrambles into his parents’ embrace.

you place your hand on satoru’s forearm, and he immediately relaxes.

you smile and press a kiss to his cheek then pat your son’s back before instructing him softly, “you have to apologize for hurting him so much, though, s/n, okay?”

your son, ever the obedient sweetheart when it comes to you, looks at the boy, “I am sorry, but you should be sorry too!”

the other boy nods, crying, “I am sorry!”

your son nods, satisfied with the answer. your husband then picks s/n up and spins him around as he sings his praises, “I am so proud of you for defending mama like that! so so proud!”

the boy grins happily and hugs his dad. satoru then raises his finger, “but you gotta know that people are weak, so we can only do this to them all the time.”

your son nods eagerly, before wiggling to the ground. he runs to you, excited to tell you about his day. you grin and listen to him happily, ignoring the crying family on the other side.

your husband kisses the top of your head before turning to the principal with a smirk, “so, principal, is there anything you would like to say?”

“I am gonna piss myself.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

you dragged sukuna to the principal’s office, after you got a call of a major incident happening involving him. your husband insisted on dismissing it, but you just had a feeling that something is seriously wrong.

you both enter the office, eyes immediately falling on your son who is sitting unbothered on the chair. meanwhile, the principal is resting his elbows on the desk and striking a pose that could only be described as trouble.

when s/n sees you two, his eyes light up, and he runs to give you—and only you—a hug. sukuna scowls, “what about me?”

“you said you don’t like my hugs,” your son huffs, averting his eyes away. sukuna stares at him for a second, before picking him up by the scruff and placing him in his arms.

the boy looks at his dad, shocked, before snuggling into his embrace.

your husband leans his head just a bit on s/n’s head. you both then direct your attention to the waiting principal.

the principal taps his fingers together, but sukuna grumbles, “are you not gonna talk?”

you stifle a giggle—which sukuna notices and you notice the slight smirk now present on his face. the principal looks up at the three of you then speaks slowly, “well, you see…”

he looks up, “your son set my car on fire.”

a few beats pass.

then your husband barks out a laugh, one so hearty that it catches everyone but you off-guard.

the principal looks incredously at sukuna. your son tilts his head in confusion, before sukuna ruffles his hair, “how did you even do that? seriously, that’s my son for you!”

the boy thrives off his dad’s praise, and they get lost in their world, as your son details how he orchestrated everything.

the principal frowns, vexed. he clears his throat to speak up, “sir, I think you might have misheard. I am saying your son—”

“did I ask you to repeat yourself?”

the tone leaves no room for discussion, and it also sends shivers down the principal’s spine. your little boy snickers, and you side-eye him, effectively shutting him up.

the principal shakes his head slowly, then he looks at you for help.

truthfully, the man has every right to be both terrified and offended cause what the hell kinda is able to set a car on fire and act so nonchalant about it? it’s the kinda kid with a dad who backs him up for it.

however, the man assumes that voice of reason is you.

you want to help, but you’re just too tired. so, you smile, “I understand that what happened is harsh, sir,” he lights up, then you continue, “but surely, you can get a new one, right?”

the man pauses and looks at you with wide eyes, before spluttering, “wha—ma’am, you can’t be serious—"

“surely, you. can. get. a. new. one. right?” you glare.

the man nods frantically.

sukuna smirks pridefully, and he wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. he leans his face near your ear and whispers, “my kinda woman.”

you smile and wrap your arm around his waist and squeeze his hip in return. you both exchange affectionate bedroom looks, forgetting about the frightened principal.

meanwhile, s/n looks at you guys, wrorried, and murmurs, “mom, you’re scarier than dad.”

despite what he says, s/n jumps into your arms and nuzzles against your cheek. your husband rolls his eyes with no real annoyance behind them.

with all the courage left in him, the principal smiles nervously and stutters, “you—you can leave now; I sincerely and deeply apologize for the hold up.”

nobody moves an inch.

“…please leave.”

NANAMI KENTO:

you, your husband, and your daughter are now seated in the principal’s office.

you are waiting for the other kid and her parents to come in as well. you’re tapping your feet, restlessly, but kento lays his hand on your knee and rubs it gently.

he nods at you, and you smile.

you know your daughter would never fight unprovoked. said daughter gets off her chair and climbs into your lap. she hugs you tightly, and you instantly start petting her hair.

she lets a small sigh, but then the principal enters the office with the other parents in toe. you see your husband’s eyes narrow, before he leans close to d/n and asks gently, “isn’t that the girl you said was bullying your friend?”

your daughter nods intensely and whispers back, “she was about to hit her today, and you told me not to let people bully others! that’s why I hit her.”

you pat her head, and she grins. kento hums then nods, “I get that, but couldn’t you get a teacher, sweetheart?”

“the teacher would’ve taken too long!” your daughter huffs, and she is right. but, there still is a lesson that she needs to understand.

the principal clears his throat and sits in his chair. “well mr. and mrs. nanami, your daughter has inflicted pain on a friend of hers—”

“bullies aren’t my friends!”

good saying, but this probably isn’t the time. you pat her back, and she instantly understands what you mean, so she—begrudgingly—calms down.

the principal continues, “as I was saying, she hit her classmate, and as you can see, it left a bruise. such violent acts are prohibited in this respected establishment.”

“shouldn’t bullying be prohibited as well?” you ask, and the man splutters.

“that doesn’t happen—”

“i can assure you that my wife is speaking the truth,” kento backs you up, “if you would like, we can check the cameras or what the teachers say regarding the environment you’re fostering.”

your daughter’s head starts spinning from the big words.

your husband places a hand on the top of her head before resuming, “while I acknowledge that my daughter shouldn’t have been physical in defending her friend, you ought to acknowledge that what the other girl did was also unacceptable.”

“and since you want to solve the root of the problem, shouldn’t you punish the one that did the bullying and warranted my daughter to act in defense?” you press on, and the principal gulps.

the father of the girl stands up, “my princess would do no such thing—”

“your record isn’t that pretty either, so I suggest you sit down,” you say with a smile, and it does the trick. the man immediately sticks to his wife—who has said nothing, and you assume it’s because she knew what her daughter did.

everybody keeps staring at each other for a while, with your daughter having a staring contest with the other girl.

“we will deal with our daughter accordingly,” kento speaks up as he stands up, straightening his suit, “but we expect that the girl is also held accountable for her shameful actions. thank you.”

you and d/n get up, and the three of you exit the office—like icons. kento holds your hand and d/n’s, and you giggle, “did you see how they looked?”

“should you be encouraging d/n about laughing at others?” your husband asks with a small quirk of his eyebrow. you nod confidently.

“if they’re rude then yes!”

he shakes his head helplessly with a smile. then your daughter looks up to kento as you are walking and says excitedly, “dad, I won!”

your husband looks down at her then smiles gently, nodding as he gives her a thumbs up. you raise your eyebrows and gasp lowly, “hypocrisy?”

“hmm, I don’t know.”

GETO SUGURU:

your daughters hang off their dad’s back as you guys head to the principal’s office. they squeal and giggle, and suguru has an ever-permanent smile.

he is holding onto your hand gently and says, “don’t worry; I doubt that the girls actually caused damage.”

“I know, but what I am curious about is why they would get into something,” you reply, pensive, “I know my daughters very well,” you smile, and the girls grin.

they start chanting your name, clapping, and saying I love you a million times.

you open the door slowly and are met with the principal standing in front of his desk and a girl standing on top of it. your eyebrows furrow in confusion, as you all enter.

your husband wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close. he tilts his head, “so, what’s wrong?”

the man drums his fingers on the desk, leaning back, “your daughters have ganged up on my daughter.”

the both of you take a moment to examine the girl from afar. there seems nothing wrong with her: no bruise, no blood, no nothing.

you exchange looks, and you take the turn to speak up, “your daughter looks okay to me.”

the man huffs and crosses his arms, “she was hurt emotionally! severely too!”

the girl nods strongly and pouts. her dad gasps and hugs her. he then starts coddling her before asking her, “what did they say to you, sugarplum?”

“they said that I looked like a mole rat, daddy!” she replies, hand on her chest as she ‘falls’ to her knees, “and—and that’s only one of the many bad things they said!”

the man gasps yet again and starts comforting her.

you and your husband let out a snort, barely containing your laughter. the girls puff their chest in confidence. you and suguru look at each other with a poorly hidden grin, and you get caught.

the man fumes, “you’re laughing at my dear sweet princess sugar?!”

“no, we are laughing at the insult,” you reply.

“it’s quite creative,” suguru chuckles before turning to the girls who have long let go of him. he kneels down and asks them, “why did you guys do that?”

“she pulled my hair!” one of the twins spoke.

the other chimes in, “and she made fun of me.”

“oh.”

just from that word alone, you can tell which path your husband is gonna take in continuing this conversation. you have a half a mind to make him summon rainbow dragon to take you home.

you just wanted to know the reason, and suguru is probably never going to leave it at that. forget how ‘calm’ he usually is, his family should never be insulted.

“…see, this why you’re all a bunch of monkeys.”

“monkeys!!” the twins scream in unison.

this time both the principal and the daughter gasp incredulously. your secretly a diva of a husband carries your girls then holds your hand before exiting the office.

he walks in silence, and you quirk an eyebrow, “so, what are you going to do, mister ‘filthy monkeys’?”

“I have a feeling that you’re making fun of me, honey.”

“and that feeling would be right.”

the girls settle on his shoulders, freeing his arms, and he takes the chance to tickle you. you squeal, “suguru, stop! I am serious! not in public!”

“but you’re being mean, sweetheart,” he mock pouts, “such bad things you’re saying.”

your roll your eyes, and you guys continue on your merry way back home.

that event passed by like a breeze, but for some reason, the school has been appointed a new principal because the last one went missing.

I wonder why.

FUSHIGURO TOJI:

“relax, ma,” your husband says as he rubs your shoulder in hopes of comforting you, “the kid is surely fine; he is our son after all.”

“I know, toji! but what if he did get hurt?” you fret then scowl, “I swear to god, if they harm a single hair on megumi’s head, I will make them wish they were never born!”

toji smirks lightly and ruffles your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, before opening the door. he sees megumi sat, arms crossed and frowning.

involuntary, toji lets out a sigh of relief, and you waste no time in going to your son and checking on him, bombarding him with questions.

“did you get hurt?”

“no.”

“did he hurt you?”

“no.”

“are you okay?”

“yes.”

“are you sure?”

“yes, mom, I am fine,” megumi murmurs, cheeks heating up at your affection. toji chuckles at the display before looking at the principal.

the man purses his lips before sighing, “your son has beaten up jay.”

you and your husband blink silently. then your husband tilts his head, “who?”

the principal grits his teeth before standing up. he crosses his arms before huffing, “jay, the son of the town’s mayor! that boy is as important as his father, yet your son has so brazenly hurt him!”

you frown, “I don’t care who he is, and I am sure that my son won’t hit somebody for no reason!”

megumi nods, and you smile at him.

you pat his hair gently, and he reluctantly leans into the affection. meanwhile, toji has been listening silently before turning to megumi and asking, “who the hell is that?”

“the one with the sea slug hair,” he replies instantly. you let out a hum of recognition.

your husband stares blankly before he clicks his finger, “oh,” he then looks at megumi and ruffles his hair with a small grin, “I hated that kid’s dad—good job.”

megumi lets out a small smile before giving his dad a thumbs up. you roll your eyes with no real annoyance behind them and side-eye toji.

toji chuckles then looks at the fuming principal. the man, now red in the face, yells, “mr fushiguro, that is unacceptable behavior from both you and your son!”

“…okay?”

you shake your head and usher megumi out of the room. you and toji share a look, before you close the door. the moment it clicks, your husband turns to the principal with a blank face.

he takes a few steps, stopping right in front of the man. toji grabs the principal’s shoulder then speaks lowly, “you won’t speak of this, ‘kay?”

he nods frantically, face contorting as he tries to compose himself. toji smirks and heads to the door with a small wave, “see ya never, teach.”

your husband finds you and megumi in the school’s garden.

he sees megumi and yuuji—his friend—playing together, while you relax on the bench. for some reason, toji feels a wave of warmth flood his chest as when he sees you and megumi smiling.

yuuji yells something to you that makes you laugh heartily. toji feels himself relax and smile just slightly. it’s moments like these he feels ever so grateful to have you in his life.

and he swears to forever protect you and megumi. he has acknowledged a long time ago that his only wish is to be by your side.

that’s why, in no time, he is behind you, effectively blocking the sun. you look up from where you’re sat to your husband.

“hey pretty,” he hums.

you chuckle as he rests his elbows on the bench, “slain?”

he grins, “slain.”

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[ann1eee]

Everyone will leave me behind, right?

You overheard Satoru talking to Yuji. Why did he always feel like he was unloved? You didn’t want to leave him behind, ever. You wanted to be a part of his love and his dreams, but you couldn’t muster up the courage to tell him how you felt. You were his fellow teacher, his confidante, his friend. No way you’d ruin the deepest relationship you’ve had with someone over your feelings, which may or may not be reciprocated.

The battle ended, and the King of Curses had been defeated. Megumi was back, courtesy of Yuji and Nobara. Satoru made it out alive, but just barely.

When you saw the world slash almost hit him, you felt your heart drop to your stomach. There was no way you could accept him being gone, and no way you’d let that happen.

You had launched an attack of your own to divert Sukuna’s slash, which prevented a critical hit for Satoru. This allowed the others to take over, and defeat the King once and for all, whilst you accompanied Satoru out of the battle.

Finally, after all was over, you didn’t waste a single second and spent the whole time by Satoru’s side. You stayed with him at Shoko’s clinic, took care of him and waited for the perfect moment to tell him how you felt.

You waited until he spoke to the students, tossing their letters away since they didn’t need to read them after all. He settled things with the remaining sorcerers, and finally found a moment of peace.

You found him that evening, taking a stroll through the beautiful gardens of Jujutsu Tech. He looked angelic in the soft moonlight, and you felt your heart skip a beat. He beamed ecstatically as he saw you come into view, and walked to you.

You smiled at him and held his hand, leading him to your favourite place in the garden, a secluded spot with a few stone benches and raking vines. You sat close to him and gulped.

“Everything is over now huh?” You whispered.

“We’re all okay. It’s over.” He replied, matching your octave.

“I know what you said to Yuji.” You felt your heart race as you continued.

“I don’t know if what I’m about to say means anything to you, but I want you to know that you’re always going to be a part of my life, Toru. Everytime I picture my future as a sorceress, no matter who else is a part of it, I know for certain you will be. All the uncertainty that we have as sorcerers means nothing to me, because I never considered that you wouldn’t be there. If everyone else thinks of you as ‘The Strongest’, just know that I always think of you as Satoru. I love you, and I always want you to be a part of my life, as I am of yours.”

You stared into his eyes, scanning for any change of emotion, confusion, sadness, maybe even anger. But there was nothing. He turned his head away and looked to the sky.

Confused, and still rattled from your confession, you got up and stood right in front of him.

Your eyes widened as you saw the expression on his face.

Big, fat tears rolling down his temples and into his hair as he stared into the sky. His lips, red with the constant assault of his teeth. My god, you made him cry. You had never seen him cry, and you never would have thought he cried like this.

Your face grew worried as you cupped his cheeks.

“Toru, I’m sorry if that was too much. Please don’t cry?” You tried to console him.

Suddenly, he stood up and wrapped his strong arms around your body. He buried his face into your neck and sobbed quietly. You held him tight, growing more worried by the second.

“Thank you, y/n. You truly don’t know how much that means to me. I want you to be a part of my life as long as I live. You’re my dream.”

You pulled away from him, eyes welling up with tears. You reached out to touch his face, and wiped his beautiful eyes. He smiled at you so softly you could swear he was an angel.

He bent down and kissed you, as if he was waiting his whole life for you. You wrapped your arms around him as you deepened the kiss.

“Let’s go home.”

@kalopsia-flaneur

[aerithmybbgmypookiemywife]

Toy Salesman! Childe x Partner! Reader

your husband is a travelling toy salesman, but is he really just a travelling salesman?

A toy salesman who played a balalaika arrived at your village and quickly became the talk of the town. Not only did he have handsome looks but he was charming too, parents also commented that his toys seemed to be of good quality so they approved of him.

You met him when your little brother wouldn't shut up about wanting a new toy, so your parents told you to accompany him to the toy salesman. As soon as you laid eyes on him, he was the prettiest man you have ever seen... You found his red-tinted nose from the cold cute too.

A little flirty too... But... it turns out it was only towards you.

The short fling didn't last long as he had to leave the village for another one. You thought that was the last time you'd ever have anything close to love but you were wrong. As he came back... and back again... again... again... again...! Soon, your relationship that was just a fling turned into... being a couple!

"Childe!" you smiled as you ran up to him, he opened his arms as he wore that charming smile on his face. You jumped right into his arms as he held you tight, spinning you around a little out of excitement. "You're back... I missed you..." you mumbled as you buried your face in his neck.

He let out a small laugh, "Yeah... It's really great to be back to you." he slowly placed you down and kissed the top of your head. "Come on! My brother was waiting for you... My mother also cooked some soup for us!" you told him but he grabbed your hand, stopping you. You turned to him, confused.

But your eyes widened when he slowly showed a gold ring, before he could even say a thing, you just hugged him and kept chanting 'Yes!'.

The wedding was simple, it was held in the town square. You were surrounded by family, friends, and neighbors during your special day which made you happy but... Leaving them for another town did hurt a little.

"Are you sure? Why can't you both just settle here?" your mother asked. "Well... Childe's work requires him to go from town to town so we decided it'd be best to just move somewhere that can help him with his job." you replied. Your father sighed, "I... still don't really understand what you see in him. He isn't rich, and I fear for your future as he's just a mere toy maker." he commented, your mother smacked his arm.

"Dear, if you ever feel lonely or if anything happens, you can always come back here. You're always welcome back here in the village, alright? Don't hesitate to ask for our help." your mother told you to which you nodded.

You said your final goodbyes and soon set off with Childe to a bigger town with bigger opportunities. When you arrived at your supposed new home, you were surprised! It was huge! You asked how he was even able to afford it to which he just laughed off and said that he saved up.

Things were going great between the two of you, you were starting to adjust to your life there but... Something seemed off... Like Childe was hiding something... It's just... Suspicious how much money he spends to spoil you... Could he really earn that much money as a toy salesman?

Of course, you were grateful, but at the same time it... was suspicious...

Childe seemed to notice you were deep in thought, "Is there something wrong Y/n?" he asked, hands wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer to him. The two of you were in bed making it a little harder to try to avoid his question.

You hummed in response. "Really?? It seems like you're mad at me... you avoided my kiss this morning." He told you to which you let out a small laugh, "I just got embarrassed because of my morning breath, I just woke up at that time." You replied. It wasn't really a lie... you hated giving kisses when you still hadn't freshened up in the morning but at the same time, you had your suspicions that you didn't really know the full truth of his job.

He didn't say another word and only just hummed in response. You then closed your eyes, thinking that was the end of it only to get jumpscared when he starts leaving wet kisses on your neck.

Safe to say the two of you got intimate that night as you folded so quickly, under zero pressure too. You cursed at yourself in the morning though as you were too sore to even try to investigate what your husband could be doing behind your back.

The following day, you decided to go to the snowy forest, you just chose to distract yourself from any useless thoughts. You were looking for snowberries to make a lotion with. "Hmm... I should give Childe a lot of it... His hands are rough and calloused after all." you mumbled. You soon notice a familiar figure, that build... That structure... That height... Hair... Oh my god...? "Childe!" You shouted his name.

He turned to you, his facial expression looked like he was glaring at you for a second before switching to a smile. "My love! What brings you here?" He asked. Weird, he's not one to call you pet names. "I thought you were supposed to be in another town, what are YOU doing here?" you asked as you looked around.

"Where's your toy st-" he cut you off. "That's not important. Look... How about we just head home, hm?" he asked as he gave you a smile. Weird... Very weird... His smile didn't make your heart skip. Instead, it left a shiver down your spine...

"Al... Alright..." you mumbled as he started heading towards the town, you followed him from behind. Your gut tells you something is very wrong... But you just can't put your finger to i-

Wait... He doesn't have his toy stand... he usually has that... Plus why would he be in a forest- Oh... Oh...!

"Childe... Have you... Thought of something to do on our anniversary for tomorrow yet?" you asked. "Hm? That? Hmm... Maybe we should go to the town for a date." he responded. Your anniversary was months away.

You stopped on your tracks, who the fuck was this man? You knew damn well Childe would never ever forget your anniversary, that... that... weird feeling in your gut... it was... Telling you to run.

So there you go, you fucking booked it. You turned your heel around and started running away from it. It was hard to run away in your heavy clothes, you felt like you were being suffocated or you were running out of air from how much you panted.

It quickly noticed you running away but you didn't dare turn back to see how far away it was from you. That was NOT your husband, that was an imposter... If so then... Where is Childe now?? Is he dead?? What the absolute fuck is happening!?!

You could hear a loud rustle of feathers behind you, why would it sound like fathers...? God it just confused you even mo- "AAAAAAHHHH....!!!!" You let out a loud scream as the creature seemed to have flown in front of you. You abruptly stopped running, causing you to fall down, butt first in the snow.

You couldn't even describe what the fuck you were looking at right now... It looked like a crow but... Big...??? It was frightening... And that... Fucking eyes... It sent a shiver down your spine.

"Ah... How did you even know? It was a perfect disguise..." It spoke as you only trembled in fear, slowly backing away. Is this how you die...?? On the hands of a monster, you don't even know about...? It slowly approached you...

You whimpered in fear as you quickly started backing away, your body froze when your back hit a tree. Was this really how you die?? Without knowing whether your husband is dead or alive?? Oh god... What happens after it kills you?? Will it kill other people in the town too?? What will it do to you?? Is it going to eat you alive or just kill you firs-

*Thud*

You watched the creature's head fall to the ground. Your lower lip trembled as your body felt pure relief when you saw Childe holding some sort of weapon. The head opened its mouth but Childe just crushed it. Childe had an indifferent look on his face, his eyes looked lifeless but...

He looks up at you, his eyes having a gentle gaze. "Y/n..." he rushed to you as he wrapped you around his arms, you held him tight as you sobbed. "Hey... It's okay now, I'm here..." he reassured you.

You didn't know the full truth of his job, but it might be better to not know more. All you knew was that Childe would never bring harm to you.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Cw: brief mention of past childhood abuse/trauma, talk of not being good parents. This is representation for the girlies (gn) that are unsure about being parents/know they don’t want kids! You’re perfect and valid

Sirius Black x fem!reader (one use of girl at the end there)

“I don’t think I’d want to have kids.” You say to Sirius as you lay beside him, your head on his shoulder as he tickles your back.

It’s an abrupt confession seeing as neither of you had been talking about that, but Sirius just hums.

“Any reason why, poppet?” His voice is even. To be truthful, Sirius goes back and forth with the idea too.

You take a while to elaborate; “I think having to help raise my siblings, and then dealing with all of that stress and having to correct my brother’s actions and all of that,” you take a breath. “I think it took it out of me. I also really don’t want to screw up a kid.”

Sirius nods, a kiss to your cheek. He feels you inhale against his hand and waits for you to speak again, “Would that make our relationship harder? Would it be a deal breaker?”

He pulls back to get a good look at you. “Because you don’t want babies?” When you nod, Sirius shakes his head. “No, doll. I don’t think I want kids either, but especially so if you don’t want them.”

“Don’t say that just to agree with me, Siri.” You sigh and Sirius copies you.

“I’m not. I go back and forth with it just as you do. Most days I’m leaning towards it just being me and you.” His voice is too raw and earnest for you to doubt him.

You breathe out long, “I just,” you pause, picking your words. “We’ve both had shitty childhoods, I don’t know if we’d be good parents. No one can be perfect and I don’t want to fuck up a kid that didn’t have the choice of being here; I know that much for certain.”

“I think that’s a good thing to know, babe. We aren’t what happened to us and while we’re better now, we can’t predict how we’ll be despite our best efforts with our own kids, you’re right. I wouldn’t want to fuck them up either.”

They fall when you say, “Does that make me a bad person? That I wouldn’t risk it because raising my siblings was like me having kids already and really don’t want to fuck them up like we were?”

He doesn’t like that this has been troubling you. Sirius knows you better than anyone else on planet earth and he knows for you to cry like this means you’ve thought about this a lot.

He hates that you’ve been tormenting yourself over not wanting kids for so long.

Sirius pulls you closer when your tears turn to sobs, his arms firm weight around your back as he kisses your eyes. Salty tears pass through the seam of his lips.

“That doesn’t make you a bad person, poppet. That makes you a good person actually. We can keep our family just like this. Me, you, the birds you feed in the yard and maybe a dog later down the road.”

“And a cat,” you say all sniffly and Sirius wrinkles his nose.

“If you really want a cat, I’ll get you a cat. Just no more thinking it’s wrong to not want kids.” You nod, content to let Sirius pet you as your cries slow.

“You’ll still love me the most right?” He laughs, tilting your chin up and kissing your lips.

“I love you best, silly girl. Always will, even if we had kids.” You slap his chest and Sirius shrugs. “Maybe that’s how I know I’m not cut out, I don’t think I could put someone over you.” He laughs suddenly. “Fuck that’s sounds horrid.”

You wiggle onto his chest, kissing the constellation he got for you. “Doesn’t sound horrid. Dunno if I could handle not being top of your love list.” You say teasingly and Sirius smiles, all pleased that even with your red nose and slightly puffy eyes you’re okay.

Pride blooms in his chest as it does every time he assuages your worries. “Well, you never have to worry, poppet. Now gimme a kiss and let’s finish this episode of Bake Off.”

[buckgasms]

Bucky with a reader who reads smutty books?

She's perfected a straight face reading technique for when she's sat in public reading filth. Bucky thinks she reads innocent shit like fairy tales or soemthing so he buys her books like that (she loves his effort but finds them so boring that they live perminantley on the shelf in their living room).

One day she leaves the book open in the living room while she pops to the toilet and he picks it up to see what all the fuss is about. She comes back to him blushing like mad on the sofa reading the smuttiest smut of all smut and looking up at her like 😳 "this your sorta thing huh?" And while he isn't jealous that she reads that he finds it strange that she hid it from him. He asks her to show him what she finds so hot about it and they get to baby making ;)

-🐰

Hey 🐰! Hope you've been ok?

Yes I like this very much. I'm picturing a sort of Avengers Bucky boyfriend because we know what happens when Daddy finds Princess' smutty book 🫣

I imagine the confusion starts because all the covers have various fairytale-esque pictures. You'd just need to look a bit closer to realise they were slightly off!

When he asks why you didn't mention it, you just ramble about how you didn't want to be weird and if he thought it was too kinky or whatever you were happy to just keep it to yourself.

He just tuts, flipping through the pages and reads the bit you just were. I'm imagining it's a red riding hood book where the big bad wolf is eating her, but just in a very different way.

"Wow. He's really working on her there huh? And you keep a straight face when you're reading this stuff?"

You giggle and nod but he keeps flicking through and you sense that perhaps he's a little miffed about something. So you crawl over and climb into his lap, throwing the book to one side.

"Are you mad about my book Bucky?" You say softly, running your hands over his chest and rolling your hips gently.

He grunts a little and can't resist holding on to your hips and squeezing gently at your waist.

"No" he pouts, "just wish you woulda told me you like that stuff... Coulda been doing...." He peters off but you can't let that slide.

"Wait, could have been doing what Bucky? You wanna be my big bad wolf?" You grip his face and lean down to kiss him, not missing the way his hips push upwards, enjoying the way his fingers stroke down your neck and move to grip your waist.

"I dunno, what is it you want me to do?"

You sit back on his lap and grab the book, flicking through as he massages little circles on your hips.

"Well I guess in this one... He chases her a little, and rips her dress off.... Oh and there's a bit where he pins her down and yknow...licks at her..."

You look up from the book and see Bucky staring at you with a devilish look in his eyes.

"Well then little red, you better get running..."

You giggle but he pulls you in closer and whispers in your ear, "or I'll fuck ya right here..." Before scraping his teeth across your soft skin.

You squeal as you leap from his lap and pelt down the corridor to the lift that will take you to your floor. You see him coming round the corner as you make it, slamming on the 'close door' button as he approaches, a big grin on his face.

You sigh as the doors slide shut and then you have the agonising wait to reach your floor. It's only a few floors down, but you wonder how long it will take him to catch up.

Before you have much time then doors slide open and the corridor is eerily quiet. You can't hear any sound other than the low hum of the lift.

You tentatively step out and make to run to your shared apartment with Bucky. You get a few steps to the door when you feel a metal hand grip your mouth and a strong arm wrap around your waist, holding you tight.

"Gotcha..."

📚

He ripped your dress to pieces and pinned you down on the floor, barely making it into the apartment before he was dragging your heat to his face and devouring you. All you could do was cling to the rug as he sucked, nibbled and licked at your sensitive folds.

He carries his prize to the bedroom and puts you on your knees, ass in the air and places your book in front of you.

"Read it. Out loud..."

You flush furiously as you hear his zipper being pulled down and the mattress dip as he settles behind you.

As you begin to read his cock is dragged along your pussy, teasing you and torturing you as you struggle to read.

"Buckkky..." You whine as he presses his leaking tip just a little inside, but he stops and lands so swats onto your ass.

"Come on babygirl, I wanna know what happens. I'm pretty invested in the plotline now yknow..."

You pant and moan but manage to keep reading, describing how the wolf/man fucks the heroine, claiming her body as his, biting and bruising her delicate body. His big cock stretching her wide, hitting parts that no one has been able to before.

The book falls from your grip as he pounds into you. It was a bit of a head rush to have your incredibly hot boyfriend enacting smut and you let out a long, happy moan as he pulls you upwards, spearing his cock deeper, hitting more sensitive places with unrelenting lust.

"Oh my god Bucky.... Please, can I come please?"

He growls in your ear and uses his metal hand to grip your throat, squeezing slightly making your eyes roll. You cling onto the cool metal for dear life, as you crash into your peak, screaming out for him.

You both fall forward, Bucky managing to prop himself up to avoid squishing you, but as your walls continue to flutter around him, he can't hold himself any longer and falls down on top of you.

You giggle and wiggle until you have him resting on your chest, fingers running through his hair as he presses kisses to your soft skin.

📚

Omg imagine if this happened 🫣 also I may need to go back to writing ABO stuff because 🤤

[kayhi808]

Idk if I sent this already so please feel free to ignore buuuuuutttttt…..

For first crush:

Abby’s daycare hosts all these different events and one of them happens to be a daddy/daughter dance 🥺🥺🥺…. Guess who she wants to invite? She makes the invitation special by drawing Bucky a letter and maybe having her mama make cookies or something. When Abby’s going to ask Bucky she’s nervous!!!!!

Thank you @crazyunsexycool for such a sweet ask! This will actually tie in perfectly with an ask from @ozwriterchick

Bucky just returned from a 3 week mission. It's the longest you've been apart since you started dating 8 months ago. Bucky made an effort to call and check-in when he could. He returned today, and wanted to pick up Abby with you. "She's going to be so excited!"

Bucky pulls you in for a kiss & gives you a smile. He's just as excited to see Abby, too.

As you walk up to the playground, Abby's teacher waves at you and goes to gather Abby's backpack. "Look who's here, Abby."

"Mama?" She puts her toys away and runs to the pick-up gate. She notices you aren't alone, 'Bucky!!" She screams and runs to Bucky, only to have him scoop her up and throw her up in the air and catching her in a hug. She giggles so hard. "You're home!"

Making your way back to the apartment, Bucky gives her a shoulder ride home. "How's my favorite girl?"

"I's good!"

"Listening to your Mama?"

"Mmmhmmm," she looks at you, "I's good girl, right? I no tricks you at all."

You laugh, "Yes, she:s been very good." Abby blooms under your praise and does her happy wiggle.

******

After dinner, Abby is noticably antsy. "Cans I be done?"

"May I be excused?"

Giggles, "Yea, can I be 'scuse?"

"Yes you may." Abby gives Bucky a side-eye look and runs to her bedroom.'

He brings your hand up to his lips, "What is she up to?" You shrug as Abby runs back out with a sheet of paper.

"Um...Bucky? I's draw you...um a letter." She hops up an down by his side.

"Did you?" He lifts her onto his lap as she puts the paper down in front of them. "What have we got here?"

You quickly scan her drawing and you know where this is going. "Baby, Bucky just got home. I didn't get a chance to discuss this with him. Maybe we can do this in the morning." You give Bucky a worried glance.

You both can see her wringing her fingers together in her lap, "Discuss what?" Bucky unclenches her little fists in his hands, holding them gently.

Abby leans forward, "My scoon, has um..a big party." She traces the balloons in her drawing. "My Daddy went to heaven, so um..." She traces the stick figure of Bucky with his black and gold arm. "I don't has a dates."

Bucky's fingers goes to the smaller stick figure in a rainbow triangle skirt & a crown. "Oh, wow!" Bucky is speechless.

"Abby? Baby?"

"But I want Buckys as my date, Mama." Turning in Bucky's lap, "I hads an Uncle now," she shrugs her little shoulders and plays with the collar of Bucky's shirt. "But I wants you!" She squeezes Bucky's face between the palms of her hands and giggles.

"Honey, I think Bucky needs to check his schedule. He might have a mission and not be in town." You offer Bucky and 'out' if he needs it.

Silently shaking his head, "I can be there." Abby gasps and squeals, throwing her arms around his neck.

Cautiously, "Buck."

He gives you a proud smile, "Your Mama can give me the date and time and I'll be honored to take my Cinderella to her ball."

"Oh, tank you, Bucky! I loves you so much!" Giving him a loud kiss on the cheek.

Of course she loves him.

@waywardhunter95 @wintrsoldrluvr @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @purplecolordeer @samsgirl93 @buckitostan @blackbirdwitch22 @littleredwolff @mcucatlady @silas-aeiou @hzdhrtss @florie1 @thecubanator2 @enchantedbarnes @selella @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @cjand10 @pancake-05