#will (salad days) x reader

[wrenwrongs]

Will from Salad Days audio 🔥 links:

Will ruins your makeup before a Halloween party (switch!Will, established relationship, choking, blowjob, edging, degradation, praise, aftercare | by BigigBogog)

You accidentally leave an intimate item out and roommate!Will finds it (RoughDom!Will, collar, face fucking, mirror sex, spanking, slapping, hair pulling | by LuxeBoySlut)

Will learns to submit (switch!Will, est. relationship, power struggle, use of safeword, whining, begging | by maximumwill)

[alicesivory]

The Moon Song

Inspired by the movie ‘her’ 2013 - directed by Spike Jonze 

Pairing: Billy Washington x female! Reader

Warning: smut, angst, and teeth rotting fluff (mdni), and not proof-read lol. 

WC: 7005 

Disclaimer: I am not comfortable using [y/n] but I won’t be using any OC since it’s still an x reader fic. But I’ll slip a nickname or two in some stories ;) Oh and I took some words and sentences from my favourite scene from the movie and the iconic monologue at the end but I revised it so it would fit into the story but all credits goes to Spike Jonze. Enjoy!

“War? You don’t got a clue- what do you know about war?! War against halal butchers? You don’t know anythin-.”

Billy nodded as tears started to build up in his eyes. Of course he knew nothing. It's as if anyone gave him a chance to know something. It’s meaningless at some point, he meant his life and all this bullshit about all of this charade. Just when he felt like a somebody, of course his sister had to crumble it all down.

Or just trying to make him snap out of it from this dreamlike state he’s in as his inner self tries to justify his actions. 

He didn’t mean to be like this in the first place or mingle with those thugs. 

He never did. 

“-grow up, Billy!”

He nodded once more as a tear dropped from his eye. 

“You done?”

“Yes, I am.”

Billy kept an eye on his sister as she stomped away from his room, and finally from his apartment. 

Slamming the door. 

Humiliation weighed over his shoulders as he hung his head low, running his fingers through his sandy blonde hair with frustration. It wasn’t supposed to end up this way. Not the way he wanted it to. Taking a deep sigh, he lets go of all of his tears letting them roll down from his cheeks. Sniffling and crying alone in his dark room. But just as wanted to just curl up in bed and cry ‘till exhaustion, he heard a knock from his apartment door. 

Wiping away his tears and snot, he stood up bravely and walked towards the door. It’s probably his sister, wanting to yell or lecture him about…literally anything, really. Nothing’s good enough for her or their parents. He sighs and opens the door with no hesitation without checking who it was. 

“Coming back for mo-.”

Oh, it wasn’t his sister. 

Her name rolled off his tongue easily like he was dying to say her name for months. She looked at him curiously as she stood there with an awkward thin smile. “I bumped into Lana and…she looks pretty pissed. Did I come at the wrong time?” she asked, pointing towards the apartment hallway. He quickly shook his head.

“N-no! Not at all. We just had an argument- you know how it is.” 

It has been…8 months and 2 weeks since he broke up with her (yes he has been counting) and 2 months since he last saw her. Their breakup was hard for him and sometimes Billy believed that their breakup was the one that caused his downward spiral. He had known her since they were in university, she was his friend before he slowly developed feelings for her. His train of thoughts were snapped away by her gasp. “What happened to your hand?”

He quickly hides it away behind his back.

“N-nothing! By the way, What’re you doing here?” He asked, not wanting to tell her the truth. What will she think of him? He can’t just dump his troubles into her. 

“I know this is silly, but I forgot to take some of my stuff,” she sighed in defeat, clearly letting him brush away the topic of his hand. Billy knew what she left and he didn’t even bother to tell her since he..well..just wanted her to maybe stop by or just kind of let it stay in his apartment to remember something of her. A piece of her, some sort.

“Yeah? What did you left?” He asked, acting dumb. 

“Some books and my brown watch. Have you seen them?”

“No, not at all. Come in.”

Three years ago. 

Laughter filled the apartment floor as his pale cream couch was being moved from the first floor to the third floor. He was at the bottom end while his sweetheart was trying to pull the couch up. “It’s getting heavy, love!” He teased as he tried so hard not to laugh seeing them fail over and over again to move their couch up to their apartment. 

What’s now his apartment, used to be their apartment. 

“Hold on! Oh dear Lord-,” she cackled as she took a step back up the stairs, lifting up the other edge of the couch. 

“Alright, now push!” She ordered as they finally succeeded to drag and carry the couch unison. It took them a while to finally make the couch fit through the doorway, but they managed. Back then, their apartment was still empty. No mess or dirty clothes scattering around the floor. It still smelled like paint. “Phew!” She said before crashing onto the couch. Billy follows along, putting his arm around her, letting her lean onto him. 

“Tired, sweetheart?” He teased.

“Terribly.” 

“Gosh I think the last time you were this tired was two nights ago when I fuc-,”

“Ew, no ew stop-,” she says with a giggle trying to get away from him but he won’t budge.

“And you told me to keep going! ‘Ah harder Billy! Harde-,”

“You are so disgusting!” She exclaimed as she covered his mouth with her palm, but he kept teasing her with his stupid dirty jokes. “Really? The last time you told me that was when I gave you backs-,”

“You are so infuriating!”

The only thing to make him shut up was tickles and her plan worked. When her fingers started to wiggle on his stomach, he burst out laughing like a mad man. “Stop! Stop!” He begged her. After one last tickle, she pulled away with a satisfied grin. “You’ll be the death of me, woman.” Billy placed his arm back around her shoulders and gave her a sweet peck on her lips. “I shall be,” she replied cockily, booping his nose. He smiled at her as he admired her features that he loved more than anything. 

He didn’t know he was able to love someone this much. 

“Can’t believe we have this place to ourselves,” he said softly to her, brushing a hair away from her face. She smiled back, “Can’t believe I’m doing this with you.” They both shared a sweet kiss where no one could disturb them or interrupt them. Ever.

“I uh…I applied for the military,” he informed her as they pulled away from their kiss. “Yeah? That’s amazing..,” she said supportively, brushing his hair with her gentle fingers. “Yeah..I wanted to try, y’know? Seeing Lana on field…I  want to be like her y’know? Brave…tough…,” he listed. 

“But you are.”

Her words made him scoff. 

“You’re only saying that ‘cause I’m your boyfriend. It’s biassed.”

“It’s still an opinion,” she said gently, still brushing his hair. Seeking her comfort, he leaned his head on her shoulder. “You think I can do this?” He asked with a hint of insecurity in his voice. “Of course you can,” she reassured him, giving him a gentle kiss on his head. 

Present day

They ramage through his apartment trying to collect all of her stuff. Piece by piece they collect the stuff she left in his apartment. “Alright we have the books…wuthering heights, pride and prejudice, little women, yada yada yada, and all I need is my brown watch. And it’s nowhere to be found- you sure you haven’t seen it anywhere?” She walked towards his gaming chair and sat on the pillowed chair while he sat on the cream coloured couch. 

Normally, he won’t let anyone sit there. Even Becky, or Lana. She was the only one he trusted to touch his possessions. He smiles as he listens to her babbling and talking. He hates to admit it, but he missed it. 

“Nope, not at all,” he lied. 

Sighing in defeat, she starts rocking the chair as she looks around the room they’re in. “How you’ve been, by the way?” Billy shrugs at her question, acting all casual even if his life was basically crumbling down. No job, shitty friends, commit a minor crime, his sister, parents, even current girlfriend hates him. “Just fine, really.” 

His answer made her smirk. “Well your hand says otherwise,” she says. Her witty answer made him chuckle. “What can I say? I’m a busy man.” He always liked how easy it is to talk to her. “What about you? You doin’ alright?” He asks, his tone gentle and eager to know if she’s been alright. 

“Well, yeah I’m alright. Ups and downs here and there, y’know?”

“Compared to me, you look like you’re doing amazing,” he compliments her, leaning in to take a good look at her even if they’re a little bit away from each other.

His compliment made her chuckle. 

It always does. 

“Thanks..,” she replies, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“I’m serious though..you look amazing.” His tone genuine and full of meaning into it. 

She looked at him for a moment, trying to read him before nodding. 

“Well you look like you need a haircut and a shave.”

Her comment made him laugh. Genuinely laugh. It’s been awhile since he felt that much comfort in him. 

After a while, their laughter died down and a comfortable silence swept the room. “You seeing anyone?” she asked. He nodded, “Yeah, but it’s a bunch of crap. Her name’s Rebecca and I haven’t heard from her since last week.” She gave him a thin smile, both of them knowing that they don’t want to discuss that topic further. “And you?” 

“Been on a date or two but none of them worked out,” she shrugs. He nodded again, a little bit glad to hear that. “You happy with your new book?”

“You’ve read it?” She asks with a chuckle. “Well, I saw it in a book store last week and it looks pretty cool, I might have to buy a copy after this,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “I mean sure I like how it is,” she says. But he saw how she pursues her lips with a pregnant pause coming from her. “But I feel like it’s true to what I set out to do. So I’m happy with that.”

“I swear, You’re your own worst critic, I’m sure it’s amazing. Even that paper you wrote on synaptic behavioral routines made me cry.” 

“Yeah, but everything makes you cry.”

“Everything you make makes me cry.”

A sense of familiarity washes between them. How easy it was to just talk like normal people would. Alice looked into his eyes for a moment before darting away and spots his injured knuckles once more. 

“No but seriously though, what happened?” She asks, pointing at his hand hesitantly. He looked down and felt heat coming up to his cheeks.

“I uh…it was an accident.” “What accident?”

“An accident that involved me and some glass shards.”

“How the hell did that happen?”

Why is she asking me all this shit?

“You don’t want to know.”

“I would love to know, actually.”

He looked at her for a while to sense any sort of hesitation in her words but the only thing he could find in her eyes was determination. It intimidates him. She could scoop anything from the bottom pits of his heart. 

“For fuck’s sake, Ismashedawindowatabutchersh-“

“What?!” 

“It was a fucking protest-“

“—What protest, Billy?! All I see is that you’re now doing property damage-,”

“—Am not!—”

“—Then what was that for? Why on earth would you smash a butcher shop’s window?!” 

Billy was silent.

Why did he do it?

“I..”

Did he actually believe all that bullshit? Or was he just tagging along with his buddies? To be…accepted?

“Everything I do is never enough for you, is it?”

His words created this thick tension in the room. Her brows crinkled as she took his word as an offense. “Why would you say that?” She asks, her voice cracking. “Because it’s the truth-.”

“No it isn’t,” she said, stern and true. “I always felt like you wished I could just be a happy, light. ‘everything’s great’, bouncy girlfriend who always puts a smile whenever you come home either happy or angry and I’m sorry but I can’t do that, I still have feelings too-.”

Billy winces at her words and shakes his head, “No I didn’t want that.”

“You avoid me and shut me out whenever I point out something wrong about you, or us- even when we argue you never wanted to listen!—“

“—No I don’t!—”

“—It’s like as if you can’t handle real emotions, Billy—,”

“—They are real emotions, how do you—,”

“—What? Say it! Am I really that scary, Billy? Say it- How do I know what?!” 

Silence hung in the air once more. They were both seeing red and they…she...he…realized how this argument was going nowhere. Billy saw how her gaze shifted, how her brow relaxed and her eyes slowly softening. Her once angry demeanour changed into what is now left with regret and embarrassment. Rubbing her arm, avoiding his gaze. God, did he really messed up this bad?

“I was gonna marry you, y’know?” 

He didn’t even realize that he said those words out loud, avoiding her gaze as his head hangs low once more. Not realizing how her eyes softened, looking at the man that she once loved and believed was the love of her life. Maybe he is still the one she loves- but he sees that as wishful thinking. 

“I’m sorry that came out of nowhere-,”

“—Billy, It’s okay-,”

“—But I mean it though, I…really want to marry you. Back then, after I’m finally in the military or something- but turns out none of that shit worked out, so…,” he says running his hands through his hair once again. His sentence hung in the air as he shut his mouth from talking any further. 

Billy’s birthday, last year. 

“You’re so infuriating..,” she giggled lowly as she laid on his bed, in his arms, tangled in bedsheets as the moon shone bright from the window. “Me? Infuriating? Is that a proper way to say to your birthday boy tonight?” Billy teasingly replied, leaning his head to hers letting his forehead rest on hers. 

She giggles again shifting her whole body close to him as she clutches the blankets close to her chest to keep her warm. “Jeez sorry, it’s not my fault that you keep giving bad activity ideas for your birthday. Like, seriously? Skydiving? You know I hate heights, you arse!” She slaps his chest, earning a cackle from him. “It was just a suggestion, love that’s all…,” Billy grunts as he cuddles her tightly. 

“Ugh you’re squishing me..,” she complained.

“Stop whining..,” he replied, giving her a sweet kiss on the neck. “It’s still my birthday tonight, I can hug you as tight as I can..,” he murmured sleepily. Alice chuckles and slightly shifts, facing up to him. “No but seriously though, what do you want to do tomorrow?” she seriously asked. 

“I don’t know, really…probably taking you out and the lads up for a few pints. Just the usual, love,” he said, rubbing her arm. “Just wanna spend some time with the people I love.” Giving her a sweet peck on the lips.

“Yeah? You gon’ give your mum and da a visit then?”

Billy groaned as he nuzzled his face on the crook of her neck. “Knew you’d say that.”

“Oh c’mon, love…it’s been a half a year since you saw them. One visit won’t hurt…,” she said gently, running her fingers through his hair. “Yeah one visit will end up my da making fun of me and seeing my mum’s disappointment up close,” Billy sarcastically chuckled. “I won’t let them,” she whispered closely to his ear. 

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Her response earned her a smile out of him. “What’d I do without you, sweetheart?” He asked sultry before he started to kiss her jaw…down to her neck as his big hands snaked her waist, holding her gently. “I think you’d do just fine,” she answered with a sensual sigh. Billy smiled, nuzzling her cheek with his nose before capturing her lips with his. 

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him back with a low hum, their bodies moving in perfect harmony as they explored each other's mouths. Billy took his time as he slipped his boxers down and placed them somewhere in the bed. “Mm…y’know I love you right?” He asked in between kisses as he pinned her down to bed, hovering over her. “I know,” she said. His kisses trailed down from her lips, her jaw, her neck, down to her chest. Gently squeezing and caressing one of her breast while his mouth nipped and sucked the other carefully. He’d then squeeze one to make her nipples perk so he could kiss it and suck it better, leaving wet trails down to her tummy and finally finding his treasure.

Gently spreading her legs, he could see that her white cotton panties had already left a dark wet patch on it. A smile tugging at his lips and he gently nuzzled his nose on her clothed sex. “Already all wet for me, babe?” He asked, placing a sweet kiss onto it before pulling down her panties in one swift motion as if he’d done this a thousand times already.

“C’mon…where’s my sweet darling..ah there she is…,” he muttered to himself. Without a warning he kitten licked her whole sex making her gasp in pleasure. Smirking smugly up at her, he continued to tease and lick her pussy before managing to eat her out properly. Hungrily munching on her like a starved man. He rubbed her clit gently in a circle motion as he stretched her hole with his tongue, fucking her with it. 

This motion made her squirm and gasp, her brows crinkling feeling the intense pleasure that she couldn’t get enough of even if he’d done this to her more than she could count. “M gonna put a finger in, yeah?” His voice said in a reassuring and gentle tone. She nodded with no hesitation and just as she knew it, she felt his finger slipping into her. One finger then became two fingers, slipping in and out of her dripping hole as he licked her clit making her cry in pleasure. 

He took his time to help her find pleasure. He could die between her legs and he’d be happy. He groaned in delight as he licked all of her juices when his fingers pulled out of her weeping hole. He couldn’t get enough of her as he licked off her juices before he had to pull away and looked up to her. 

“W-wha- why did you stopped?” she asked. He hovers over her once more, “Need you inside of me.” Needily nuzzling his nose to her neck, sucking onto her. He then felt his body shift as now he has is back on the bed as she sits on top of him like a queen on her throne. Straddling him, he could see all of her. Caressing her sides, he saw how she looks down and groped the base of his shaft, giving it a few strokes. 

“You okay with this?” She asked.

“Mmhm…y-yeah- fuck yeah,” he couldn’t even speak properly, blinded with pleasure.

Then he felt her lining up their sexes, his cock leaking with pre-cum as she teasingly rubs the outside lining of her pussy with it. “Don’t tease-fuck!” Before he could even finish his sentence, she slips his cock in making both of them gasp in unison. “F-fuck, Billy…,” she moaned, adjusting to him. She loved how he felt inside her. Not too overwhelmingly big or small, to her it’s the right size and girth. 

“You’re made for me,” he grunted as he needily thrust up begging for any movement or friction. Billy saw how she looked at him, eyes full of lust and love as she started to move up and down and rocking him as they adjust to their pleasure.

“Billy?” she called out to him as she thrust into him, her body full of sweat. “Y-yeah?” Holding her hips with his big calloused hands. “Wake up.”

“W-what?”

“I said wake up.”

Present day, Billy’s birthday. 

The sun started to rise, but only tiny streaks of sun rays managed to peek through the blinds. Billy opened his eyes, finding his room empty, finding his bed empty. 

Fuck, he just had another wet dream of her.

He looked down, finding a dark wet spot on his pants. Of course he did. His phone kept buzzing beside his bed, probably some ‘happy birthday’ notifications from his mum, dad, and sister. Becky didn’t even bother to send him a ‘i’m leaving you’ text. Ghosted and gave up on him. 

Like the others do. 

He sighs, getting up from bed and throws a shirt on himself and changes his shorts before finally picking up his phone. Then he saw it. A notification with her name on it. It’s been months since he last saw a notification from her. What is she going to say? Should he open it now? Maybe later- oh fuck it!

Hi Billy how you’ve been? I just want to say happy birthday here and hope you have a great birthday this year🎂 Sorry for the other day, I really didn’t mean a lot of those things, just wanted to see how you’ve been.

I know it’s been 10 months since we broke up and I know you probably don’t want me in your life again but I really just want to say that I wish you nothing but the best things in life. We’ve gone through a long way, we grew up together and all that shit and I just can’t act as if you don’t exist in my life. You always do in some way and I hope that’s okay. 

Have a great birthday Bil.

That text was the last straw for him. He looked around his no-good apartment, in the back of his mind he remembered everything he’d shared with her in every corner of this apartment. It drives him insane how he can’t have that now. But God he’d take it all back and do better for her. Reading her text, knowing how much of a shitty person he is, and she could’ve ghosted him and never talk to him ever again yet she decided to acknowledge him as a person. Not wanting to cut him out of her life, even he himself wouldn’t do the same thing if he was her. It drove him off. 

He hates the way he projects himself. But it is how he is.He hates everything in his life. It’s insufferable and suffocating in his own flat. He didn’t ask to live like this, but he knew the only person he could blame was him. 

Not his family, 

Not his friends, 

And definitely not her. 

He couldn’t stay in his place any longer but as he was about to just grab his stuff and leave the place, there was a heavy knocking on his apartment door.

-

Life went on for a while that summer. He jogged to his car and placed his phone on the phone holder. He opens his phone, checking if he has any texts to answer before he starts driving. He sighs as he spots her name again when he opens his messaging app. He has read her text but he hasn’t replied to her. Opening her chatbox, he realized that there were also a few things he’d like to say to her. Tapping his heel and his leg bouncing anxiously, he contemplates whether or not he should reply to her or leave it be. 

“Fuck it,” he muttered. 

Pressing down the voice message icon, he starts to speak,

“Hey uh…hey love, thanks for the uhm message, I appreciated it r- fuck why do I sound so nervous?” Billy presses the stop button and deletes it. He clears his throat, “Hey uh, I got the birthday message, I really appreciated it, ta. I’ve been doing better…thanks for asking.” He said as he starts to drive his car. 

“Listen, I…I’ve been sittin’ and thinkin’ about all the things I wanted to apologize to you. All the shit and…pain we caused each other and everything I put on you, like how you think I needed you to be or needed you to say, and I’m sorry for that..really. I think I’m just doin’ that because I want to be better for you,  even until now.  And you know what, you helped make the best versions of me. We grew up together and there’ll be a piece of you in me too, always. Whatever we are in the future, and wherever you are in the world I just want you to know that I’ll always look for you and…I…,” he paused. 

I love you and I’ve never stopped loving you. 

“...I hope you have a great day too. Bye.”

Taking all of his courage, he presses the send button. 

Letting out a big sigh, he leans back onto his seat and tries to drive peacefully. 

Maybe a gum will help him calm down. 

A year ago. 

Billy remembered it like it was yesterday. It was late at night and Billy was watching something off the old Telly. He had a terrible day. After he failed to get into the military, he tried applying for high end jobs but it didn’t work out. Did another interview today and he just knew he’s gonna flunk it. The next thing he knows he’ll get an email saying that they’re sorry and all that bullshit. He sighed, leaning his head back on the couch. 

“Billy?” She called out from the doorway. 

“Hm?”

“How was the interview?” 

“Horrible,” he grunted. 

“You don’t know that-,”

“-They laughed at me,” he snapped his head towards her to the point it sets her off. “I-I didn’t kno-,” “Of course you don’t.” He cuts her off once again before getting up from his couch, brushing her off as he passed through her. “Fine,” she muttered and went to the bedroom. “Can you just be supportive for once?” Billy snapped again as he threw his beer bottle to the trash bin. “Just for once, be supportive of me?” He emphasized, with a hint of sarcasm, bitterness and frustration. “Supportive? Isn’t that what I’ve been doing all these years, Billy?” She replied, taking his words to an offence. 

“Oh really? Well I don’t think you’ve been supporting me, more like nagging at everything I do!”

“Criticising isn’t nagging, Billy!” 

“You call that criticising? Critics are supposed to help me be better not bringing me down!”

“I wasn’t bringing you down, Billy! I was just saying the truth! Your CV was weak you didn’t put your best qualities that should’ve been the key point-,”

“--Just stop! Stop it, you’re such a know it all, aren’t you?--”

“--Me? Ha! I’m not the one who can’t accept criticism! Who can’t accept real emotions–”

“--Oh fuck you! Atleast I’m not the one who got rejected by 10 publishers just because the book you’re writing is complete rubbish!”

Her eyes widened. As much as they like to argue, Billy will never dare to say anything about her work- most of all, her book. Billy’s rage died down as he realized what he just said. He crossed the line. He fucked up. He saw how her lips slightly trembled as she wanted to speak. 

She nodded as tears built up in her eyes. “So that’s how it’s gonna be?-”

“--No, fuck- babe I didn’t mean that I’m sorry–,”

“--No, it’s fine–,”

He gently walked towards her and tried to keep her from going away from him. Trapping her in a gentle embrace. “--No, it’s not fine…I’m sorry..I didn’t mean any of that…I messed up I’m sorry,” he apologized over and over again. Placing gentle kisses onto her head. His heart sank when he heard her sniffles. Gently stroking her hair, he murmured his apology to her showering her with kisses to make it all better. “Why are we like this?” She asked in a small tone. “Like what?”

“We keep hurting each other.”

Billy’s thoughts were suddenly snapped when a notification enters his phone 

Lana: Mate, I’m with Becky. She came to mine looking for you. Call me NOW. 

Becky? Why did she came to Lana looking for him?

That doesn’t makes any sense. 

Billy brushed it off and probably thought that Becky’s there to call him off or take her stuff from his flat or something. So he clicks on Lana’s contact number and dials her after constantly ignoring her. 

“Billy!”

“Can you put Becky on?” “Where are ya? Ya sound like you’re drivin’,”

“Yeah was drivin’ to meet my mates, why? Let me speak to Becky.”

“What mates? Anyone I know?”

“Just mates, Lana.” Billy says as he takes a turn on the road. “Why, what’s going off?”

“Listen, Billy I’m not with Becky- I just needed you to call me.” Billy furrowed his brows as he listened to his sister speak on the phone. 

“What?- What do you mean you’re not with Becky?- What do you mean- what- why?”

“I need to talk to ya. You’ve not been answering my calls. You’ve not been about-wh-where are you driving to?

Suddenly his car bumped into some people who were doing some protests. Flipping him off for bumping into them. “Billy? Billy- Where exactly are you?” Lana asks again. Billy flips a protestor on his side bumping into his car. “Farringdon Tube Station,” he answered Lana, annoyed. 

“Listen, Billy, it’s important, what are you doing at Farringdon Station?”

“I was meant to meet the lads but they’re not here. Outside the tube he said, but I can’t see them. Just a load of lefty wankers.”

“Billy, why did you drive, was that your idea?”

“Nah, my mates asked me to give some of the lads a lift down. Must be some kind of joke.” 

Billy looked around not finding any signs of those so called lads. Shit, he got set up. A joke, like people would see him as. Fuck. 

“Yeah they’ve set me up, haven’t they? Havin’ a laugh, aren’t they? Knobheads,” he says with a disappointed demeanor that even Lana could detect. 

“Billy, these new mates of yours, they’re not who you think they are.”

“Lana, what you on about?”

“Nick. Nick Roberts, he’s a…he’s a terrorist. One of the Crusaders that killed Nut.”

In a flash, he finds himself in the middle of Cranstead Fields with a fucking bomb inside of his car. He could hear his heart beating rapidly, his ears ringing as it mutes everyone and everything around him. From many different scenarios in his head, Billy didn’t think he’d die like this. Trapped in a car in the middle of Cranstead Fields with a ticking bomb that’s about to go off at any minute by now. His breath ragged and unstable as he kept an eye on the timer. Swallowing a lump on his throat, he looked up to his rearview mirror. “Oh no..,” he pants to himself. Scared to death, really. He wondered if he’s ever going to survive this. Maybe he should’ve chosen better shit in his life and maybe he won’t get blown off by a fucking bomb latched onto those terrorists. If only he chose better friends, listened to his sister, he’d be at home patching things up. If he was any good maybe he’d be watching some old telly show with her. 

Fuck, he didn’t even said goodbye. 

He hasn't told his mum and dad how sorry he was for being a mop, and for everything he did. 

“Billy! I’m here! Alright it’s gonna be fine! Just stay really still for me, I'm gonna have a look around the car.”,“Yeah you gotta do something about this,” he pants, glancing at the timer that’s still ticking. “About three minutes, yeah?” Three minutes and twenty five seconds. Twenty four, twenty three..shit! He hasn't read her new book. Lana tried to take a look at the bomb as well through the window with a worried and nervous expression. But when Billy faced her again, she tried to put on a brave face for her brother. “Okay stay still, I’m gonna go have a look- Don’t touch anything, I’m just gonna check the car okay?”

“Y-yeah, yeah…just-just hurry!”

11 months ago.

Billy leaned onto the hood of his car as the night breeze swept through him. One hand on his jacket pocket, and the other holding a fag as he took a drag out of it letting out a puff of smoke into the air. Looking down at his phone, he saw that it’s 7:00 pm sharp. She should be home from work by now. He sighs, flicking the cigarette down to the ground before stubbing it as he walks to the building. After going through security, he saw his sweetheart talking to the receptionist at the lobby as she had her bag on her shoulder. After finishing her chat with the receptionist she turned around and spotted him immediately. A smile plastered on her face. 

“Heya Billy…,” she greeted with a smile, hugging him with her arms around his neck. He kisses her cheek and neck intimately. “Hiya, love.” As they pull away from the hug, he has his arm around her waist leading her out of the building. “How’s work?” He asked as they walked towards his car together. “Same old, same old,” she shrugged. 

“And…how’s your book going?” His question made her giggle and grins in excitement. “I just got an email that..they’re actually going to publish my book!” She cheers. “Told ya they’d love it,” he said to her smugly, giving her a kiss on the head. “I was so scared and nervous though…but I guess I just needed to take a deep breath with it all,” she said, opening the passenger door. “Yeah, you actually do need to do that,” he said with a pregnant pause. He kept his eye on her as she fastened her seatbelt. 

“Hey, babe?”

“Hm?”

He gently strokes her hair. “Look, I just wanted to say sorry about that night. I was a big dick to you that night, didn’t know what came over me…,” he said carefully to her. “It’s fine–,”

“Don’t say that it’s fine, bub. It’s not. It was stupid and fucked up for me to say about your book. Those 10 publishers who rejected your book were also stupid. I think everything you write is amazing. Can’t wait for the next one.” He kissed the back of her hand, his eyes not leaving hers for a second. “You forgive me?” He asked. Billy saw a smile creeping on her face, “I’ll forgive you. If you promise you’d buy a copy of my book everytime I release one.” 

“Easy, I’d buy Five.”

“Five, huh? I’ll keep your promise, Washington.”

He chuckled, giving a kiss on her temple. 

“Promise, love.”

Present day, Cranstead Fields. 

What felt like an eternity of Lana checking the bloody car, he gripped his steering wheel while glancing at the timer once more. Two minutes and fifty three seconds. Fifty two…fifty one…his heartbeat was banging like a drum inside of his chest. Breathing in, breathing out. Lana looked at the timer and the bomb through the passenger seat’s window, trying to find a solution and just..anything! To turn that stupid bomb off. But her expression wasn’t that convincing. It scared him. 

“How bad is it?” He had to ask Lana. 

Lana could only look back at him with a nervous smile. “It’s fine,” she lied. 

“I can tell when you’re lying, man! So how bad is it?!” He asked again. 

He kept screaming his sister’s name as she went away for awhile- but she can’t just  leave him, he needed his sister. Screaming out Lana’s name like a mad man, his face gone red as he cried inside his car. He does not want to die. He swore it felt like hours inside that stupid car. From the rearview mirror he saw Lana running back to him. “Billy! Listen to me! LISTEN TO ME! LOOK AT ME, YEAH? The timer means nothing! They put it there as a trick so you’ll open the door–,”

“--please–,”

“--Can you hear me?!”

“...please,” he begged again.

“Don’t touch it! Stay still! It’s gonna be fine.”

“Oh fuck,” His head hangs low as he realized that there’s no way out of this situation. 

“Listen to me, I’m your sister, okay?!”

She’s his sister.

“You need to trust me, I’m gonna go and get some stuff–,”

“--Lana please, don’t go–,”

“--You gotta trust me! It’s gonna be fine.”

He swallowed a lump in his throat as he nodded. Okay. It’s gonna be fine. It is. It is. 

He resisted the temptation and fear of opening the door. But when the timer ran out, it freaked him out. But everything was silent, no explosion or anything going off. There he realized that Lana was right. It was a trick. Okay- fuck. He has to stay focused right now. Watching from the rearview mirror once more, he saw Lana’s team hurriedly bringing their tools. 

“Alright Billy, we’re gonna just take off the rear window so you could crawl out, yeah? Stay. Still,” Lana reminded him calmly. She takes a glance at the bomb once more, giving him a thin reassuring smile. “See? It’s gonna be fine. Don’t touch anything.” Billy nodded at her words even if he was internally screaming. Slowly, he saw how her team plucked out his rear window. “Okay Billy, just slowly crawl right out. We got you,” Hass says, reaching out his arms to pull Billy out. Billy nodded and carefully crawled from the front seat, avoiding the shift gear or anything really! Not wanting to trigger the bomb. As he reached the backseat, the timer of the bomb went on again. 

“Shit!” Billy screamed, hastily scrambling out of the car. He lets his sister and Hass pull him out taking his arms. “Get me out of here!” He screamed as they all grunted, pulling him out of the car. Billy landed on the ground with a thud and the team ran from the car as the timer counted down from five.

“Fuck, ma ankle!” Billy winced as he rubbed his ankle that got twisted after he got out from the car to the ground. 

Four…

“Billy!” Lana screamed from afar. 

Three…

“Shit shit shit shit.”

Two…

Billy tried to walk as fast as he could, away from the car. 

One. 

-

Billy didn’t explode in the car, but his ankle got twisted and his leg was burned from the sparks of the explosion. Laying down on the hospital bed after consulting with medical staff in the ER, Lana accompanied him throughout the day. Not leaving his side. Even his parents came to check up on him. His mum was crying, thinking that he died or something. It made his heart warm by the fact that he had a second chance with his family. His dad hugged him for the first time in years which was also surprising. But, he liked that surprise. 

“Miss, you’re not supposed to go in there-,” he heard one of the nurses said from outside. What kind of commotion is happeni-.

And there she was. 

Panting like as if she was just running a marathon, she stood there by the ER doorway. Then she saw him. “Billy!” she sighs in relief before instantly running to him. Billy couldn’t believe it as they both embraced each other. She hugs his head close to her chest, her heart beating rapidly. 

“H-how did you-,”

“--Lana called me,” she says with a relieved smile, running her delicate fingers through his hair. Billy turns to look at Lana and saw Lana sipping her coffee with a mischievous smile that says; ‘Thank me later’ all over her face. He gave his sister a nod before turning back up to her. 

“Are you okay?” She aks, concerningly. “Never better, love.”

He was done with being afraid. Done being a coward. 

In her embrace, he pecks her lips. 

Even though she was quite surprised, he earned nothing but a smile from his sweetheart. 

“I’d say yes, y’know?”

“About what?”

“If you still want to marry me.” 

Billy smiles to her. Guess he gotta save up then.

A/N: I SWEARRRR this fic took me so long to complete cuz it’s so overwhelming to write especially the Cranstead Fields scene- I had to go back and forth on youtube to keep the dialogues and description right꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱. But anw, thank you so much for reading until the end! I hope you guys enjoyed it and I still had so much fun writing this fic. I hope this fic makes sense, cuz I really wanted to keep it as accurate as possible with ‘Trigger Point’ in the first place(゜▽゜;). I’m up for requests for any Ewan characters and if you want me to write something in the future or you have ANY fic ideas, don’t hesitate to hmu! My inbox is open :D THANK YOUU!!! 

P.S, I would like to give a little shoutout to @/targaryenrealnessdarling and the Cranstead Fields scene was also inspired by their Billy Washington series fic called “It’s Who We Have” so please check their blog as well they wrote so many amazing fics. 

That’s all! Love, Alice!ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐

Tags🎀: @ladytargg @anukulee @michaelsgavey @whencokewascasual @fan-goddess

[thought--bubble]

Make You Beg

Ettore X Prison Nurse Reader X Will (Salad Days)

Warnings after the cut

Word Count: 2736

Ettore Masterlist

Will (Salad Days) Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Banners by @arcielee

Gorgeous Banner inspired by this story made by @vhagar-balerion-meraxes it is so beautiful!

A/N: Not me writing the filthiest thing I can imagine with two minor characters. This is purely self-indulgent.

Warnings: Ettore is his own warning, mentions of physical violence, blood, Dubcon , biting, scratching, predatory behaviors, hair pulling, mentions of pain, some sub/dom behaviors, degradation, fingering, oral sex male receiving, PinV unprotected, rough sex, deepthroating, crying, humiliation and praising.

"Again?" You sigh as your favorite frequent flyer, Will, shuffles into your exam room with yet another bloody lip and possible broken nose.

"What can I say? I missed ya. " he chuckles as he makes his way to the gurney on the left.

You put your hand up to the guard that brought him as he goes to handcuff him to the gurney.

"That isn't necessary. Will here won't give me any problems" You smile at Will, you have been through this with him many times and have built a friendly rapport. You trust him to behave.

"It isn't you that I'm concerned about" the guard laughs heartily, as another guard walks in with an inmate you haven't seen before.

The inmate has clear injuries to his mouth but would still be lesser priority than Will.

Will rolls his eyes and audibly groans. "This fucking nonce"

The other inmate lunges toward him, the guard grappling him to the floor.

"Cut it out!" The guard yells authoritatively, the inmate on the ground immediately stops struggling, allowing the guard to get him back to his feet.

You shriek as you jump back. "Should we even have them both in here at the same time?"

"They will be fine as long as this one can learn to shut his gob," the guard by Will says as he latches Will's arm to the metal post of the gurney.

You move to the second inmate as he is also latched to his gurney. "Ettore," the guard next to him says. "Watch out with this one he is a....... just watch out"

You look at the two guards with confusion as they move toward the door. "Where are you going?!" Your voice is laced with panic. You have never been left alone with an inmate, let alone two.

"The fight they started devolved. It's all hands on deck. They are hooked tight. You'll be fine. I will come back as soon as possible"

"Surely you are joking?" You whimper slightly as the two guards leave the room, closing the door quietly behind them.

When you turn back around, you see your two patients. Each handcuffed to their gurney. Will looking over at Ettore, hatred etched across his face while Ettore stares directly at you. Tilting his head slightly to the side as his eyes wander up and down your form.

"Right. Ummm, " You nervously wipe your palms on your thighs trying to quell the nausea creeping its way up your throat. "Will seems to have more injuries, so I should tend to him first"

You nervously move toward Will while trying to position your body so that you don't entirely turn your back on Ettore.

"I wouldn't let him hurt ya, ya gotta know tha" Will smiles at you from his place on the gurney, his voice soft and sweet.

"No offense, but you let him hurt you pretty good." You chuckle as you start to dab away the blood on his lower lip with a cotton ball.

"Yeah, well, that's different. Two blokes throwing blows. Not the same thing as an animal like that coming after a lass. " You can hear Ettore grumble from across the room, his handcuffs clacking against the metal bar of the gurney.

"Will," you say warningly "remember, watch your words. I don't want any further trouble with you two."

"You know what he's in here for?" He asks, making your stomach turn. You don't know and don't want to know.

"You're all in here for something, hardly my business, to know what" You finish tending to his lip and start to clean around his eye.

"I robbed a post office. Then beat my best friend half to death over a girl that never even liked me. I'm an idiot. Not an animal. " You stay silent and continue to tend to his wounds. You had always wondered how he found himself in here. He was scrappy, but he was so sweet.

"He is an entirely different beast." He motions toward Ettore, who simply scoffs.

You swallow nervously. Between the comments from the guard, Will's analysis and Ettore's lecherous gaze you had an inkling of what type of "beast" Ettore might be, making the fact that you have to treat him all the more daunting.

"I'm here to heal, not judge. Now sit back. " You push Will back against The gurney by the shoulder so you can inspect his nose further.

"You have such a handsome face. You really should stop getting punched in it. " You move to set his nose, and he grunts.

"Think I'm handsome, do ya? He wiggles his eyebrows at you and smirks.

You blush and pat his shoulder. "Nose should heal up fine."

You turn and walk towards Ettore, your stomach dropping.

"Hello Ettore, let's take a look at that mouth ok?" You take his chin in your hand and angle his face upward and can't help but notice the goosebumps that ripple across his skin at your touch.

Swallowing deeply, you gently ease his mouth open with your thumb and use your little flashlight to peer inside. "Doesn't look like any teeth were knocked loose or anything like that so you should be fine."

You move to leave his bedside, but his hand shoots up and holds your wrist tightly. "Ettore....." You attempt to sound intimidating so you could assert your authority over him.

"Oi!, let her go!" Will yells from the other side of the room, his cuffs jangling wildly against the metal bar of his gurney.

Ettore pulls you down roughly toward his face and sniffs into your hair with deep, long controlled breaths.

You stay very still, your mind telling you to run but unable to respond physically. Frozen in place while Ettore continued to sniff you.

He clamps his hand tighter still on your wrist as he grips the hand cuff with his other hand pulling tightly until the gurney bar snaps out of place.

Your breath hastens as you hear the light jingle of him sliding the handcuff down and off the bar before bringing his newly freed hand to the back of your head gripping your hair tight and pulling your head back.

You can feel the harsh thump of your heart beating in your chest as he drags his nose down the length of your neck, breathing in deeply. You can still faintly hear the sounds of Will struggling against his confinement on the other side of the room as Ettore begins to speak quietly.

"Do I excite you?" He asks as he nips at your neck. You feel a burning heat building in your core. You know you shouldn't. This is a bad man. A man that you should not be anywhere near. Yet you gently nod your head as he smirks at you.

"Hey! Let her alone!" Will desperately attempts to free himself to no avail. The desperation evident in his tone.

Ettore bites into your neck harshly, and you can't help but squeak. "Mmmm," he grumbles into your neck. Shivers of pleasure and fear make their way down your throat and down the length of your spine. He gently licks at the marks he left, the stinging sensation further adding to the heat building in your core.

Will's struggling is echoing throughout the room, and his desperate pleas pull at your heartstrings, seemingly breaking the spell Ettore has cast upon you. You pull yourself away from Ettore and stumble backward a few steps.

Your brain telling you to put as much distance between him and you as possible, your body begging you to return to him.

Ettore looks at you with curiosity and then smirks, swinging his legs over the side of the gurney.

You turn and walk back to Will quickly. "You alright?" He reaches out and gently touches your cheek before turning his head towards Ettore, who is now stalking over to you.

"Let her alone!" Will wraps his free arm around you, clutching you toward his chest. His heart beating loudly against his rib cage. The feeling comforting.

Ettore wraps his arms around your midsection, pulling you towards him while Will swings at him wildly with his free arm.

"I swear I'll kill ya!" He yells, desperately pulling against his restrained wrist.

"She don't want that..... do ya?" Ettore strokes his hand down the side of your body, lightly grazing over every curve and dip, until he reaches the waistband of your scrubs and quickly brings his hand to your heat.

Pleasure shoots straight through your body all the way down to a pleasant tingle in your toes at the touch.

"No," you just barely whisper, leaning your head back against Ettore's shoulder.

Will's mouth drops open in shock. "What?"

He watches as Ettore rubs at your pearl in circles, your head leaning back against his shoulder, your muffled whimpers growing in volume.

A satisfied smirk crosses Ettore's face as he continues pleasuring you while his gaze is fixed on Will.

"Want more?" He growls in your ear, his never-ending staring contest with Will still raging on.

"Yes," you moan more than whisper desperate for more of the delicious friction his hand was providing. Ettore bends you over the gurney, your chest pushed down into a stunned Will's lap. He makes quick work of your scrubs and panties, bringing his hand to the back of your head and yanking you up by the hair.

"Look at him," Ettore growls as he shoves a finger into your cunt, pumping it furiously. "Make him beg for some"

You lift your eyes to meet Will's while wanton moans escape your lips.

Will brings his hand down to your face and gently strokes your cheek with his fingertips. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip. The praise going straight to your heat.

Ettore removes his fingers from you and pulls his own pants down to his mid thighs stroking himself a few times before roughly grasping your hips and shoving his cock inside you all the way to the hilt.

You scream at the sudden intrusion, the pain mixing with pleasure as you feel yourself split open on his girthy length.

"Shhh shhh, you're ok," Will gently coos as Ettore starts to pound into you furiously. Dragging his free hand down your back, his fingernails digging into the skin like an animal marking its territory.

You emit a sound somewhere between a painful screech and a moan while Will takes your face in his hand. Like you were made of glass, his tender touch mixing with the raw animalistic touch of Ettore, causing a swirling of pleasure to radiate up through your stomach.

Will shifts on the gurney, adjusting himself, trying to hide his growing bulge as he watches Ettore take you, all the while providing you with tender words and caresses.

Your mouth hangs open as Ettore roughly drags his cock against your walls battering your insides with reckless abandon. Your eyes connected to Will's as he wipes the tears that stream down your face.

Ettore reaches up and once again grips your hair, yanking your head back.

"You're a little fucking whore aren't ya?" His breathing is labored, each of his thrusts somehow seeming harsher than the last.

"Yes, yes," you whimper your mind blank and fully submissive.

"Then act like one," he grunts as he shoves your head down harshly, your face pushed up against the erection hidden within Will's trousers.

Will looks at Ettore with anger lacing his face.

"You don't have to do anything for me. Don't worry about me. " he pushes Ettore's hand away from the back of your head and caresses the recently abused area with a gentle touch.

"I ... I want to" your voice bounces as Ettore continues to slam into you from behind the skin on your ass going numb from the repeated skin to skin smacking.

"Uhh..." Will's voice is unsteady as you bring your hand up to his bulge, gripping his length over his trousers. He closes his eyes and groans at the pressure, shocks of electricity traveling up his spine.

You pull at the trousers and Will lifts himself up for a moment allowing you to get them down enough to free his cock.

"Only if this is what you want" He says breathlessly as he grips his length tightly the angry red tip leaking pre cum.

"Fuck!" Ettore growls loudly from behind you digging his fingernails into your skin. "Do it you little fucking whore."

At Ettore's demand you take the tip of Will's cock into your mouth swirling your tongue around the tip moaning as you taste the pre cum that has begun to collect there. "Shitttt," Will moans as he pushes your hair out of your face, giving him a better view of you with his cock in your mouth.

Ettore's thrusts grow harder forcing Will's cock further into your mouth as he begins to involuntarily buck his hips. "You're so fucking pretty, so pretty" Will moans stroking the back of your head gently as Ettore's cock continues to roughly spear your cunt and Will's cock batters the back of your throat being pushed further and further until you struggle for oxygen.

Ettore grabs at your ass digging his fingers into the skin before bringing his hand around your hip and rubbing furiously at your pearl.

"Cum you dumb slut. I want to feel you clench around my cock as I fill you up" he snarls like an animal in heat leaning down and biting into the soft skin of your back.

you whimper at the demand and the pain, feeling your climax creep up closer and closer, unable to do anything but succumb to his wishes.

"Let go beautiful," Will whispers pleasure etched across his strong features, his thrusts into your eager mouth growing sloppier by the second.

With his gentle words and Ettore's rough touch, your orgasm wracks your entire frame. You moan loudly in pleasure, eyes rolling back, and legs nearly buckling beneath you.

You hear a loud grunt from behind you as Ettore empties himself into you, his fingernails again digging into the plush flesh of your hips.

Will thrusts into your mouth twice more before he whimpers releasing a salty stream of cum down your throat before collapsing back on the gurney.

Ettore pulls himself from your quivering walls and pulls up his trousers quickly, moving back to his gurney and plopping himself down with a satisfied huff.

Will slowly pulls his softening cock from your mouth pulling your face up towards him and placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"You alright?" He asks as he rubs your back soothingly.

You're too winded to speak and can only absent-mindedly nod towards him. He fixed his trousers before leaning over and helping you pull your own bottoms up.

"C'mere," he coos, pulling you onto the gurney with him cuddling you with his free arm.

"You did so good. So, so good, baby. " he kisses your shoulder and gently rubs your hip where Ettore had dug into your flesh.

You jump from the gurney quickly as you hear the deep voices of the guards nearing the door. Running over to Ettore and sliding his cuff back onto the metal bar of the gurney and popping it in place, hoping they wouldn't notice that it is broken.

You fix your hair as quick as you can and wipe the tears out from under your eyes as the door swings open.

"Everything go alright in here?" one of the guards asks, hardly looking at you before moving over to Ettore and unlocking his cuff.

"Yes," you clear your throat, trying to make sure to hide any hint of your dazed and satisfied condition.

"They are both fine and cleared to go back to their cells." You wave your hand towards the door dismissively. Your ultimate goal is to get all of these men out of your exam room immediately.

Ettore is removed first. He says nothing just drags his eyes up and down your frame once more before being dragged out the door.

Will, on the other hand, smiles toward you as he is led out behind him.

"Next time I'm coming alone!" He yells just as the door closes.

You sit down in your chair winded, confused and aching.

"Next time?"

To be added to taglists click HERE

[ewanmitchellconnoisseur]

"Loved, Wanted, Unforgettable"

A/N: This is my take on an alternative ending for the wonderful story "If I Had the Love I Needed" by the amazing @thought--bubble! You can read Part 1 here and Part 2 here. I strongly recommend reading them both first! You will not regret it!

Summary: Will comes by your house franticly asking you to pack a bag. You find out what he did and that he's leaving town...and he wants you to go with him.

Tw: ANGST ANGST ANGST (for no reason...life is just too good right now let's mix it up 😂), smut, unprotected sex, possible impregnation, oral sex (m receiving), facefucking, fingering, praise, creampie

A/N: And just so we are all clear I did get Jess's permission before using her plot!!

After he finishes speaking you stare into his eyes searching for a hint that this is a joke. Maybe this was a prank?

"Please. Pack a bag." He holds your hands enveloping them in his own.

"I- I can't just leave Will...my aunt...I can't just leave her." He can feel his heart break as you speak. "I love you. So much. But there has to be another way-"

"There is no other way!" He cuts you off dropping your hands angrily. "Matt will go to the police and I will end up going to jail!." He sits down on your bed running his hands through his hair panicking. He thought you would have said yes without hesitation.

"And what do you think will happen if we get caught on the run? You'll go to jail for even longer...its better you take your chances now. You won't get as much time." His leg is bouncing up and down quickly and his breathing is coming out erraticly. You kneel in front of him and you place your hand on his knees holding them down. "You should turn yourself in...show remorse for whatever it is you did."

He looked up at you tears prickling his eyes. He knew you were right. Running would only get him so far and in the end, he could end up getting you time as well as an accomplice.

"I- I don't wanna be without you." His voice cracked as he spoke bringing tears to your own eyes. "You made me feel wanted, loved and unforgettable." You smile at his use of words. The same ones he used the night he made you his.

"I'll always want you. Always love you, and I'll never forget you." He knows you mean it yet it doesn't reduce any of the pain he's feeling in his chest. You sit on his lap straddling him as his hands hold your waist and his forehead rests against your chest. "I'll wait for you...I know it will be long. But I'll wait." He looks up at you hope glimmering in his eyes.

"Really? You'd do that?" You nod and kiss him passionately knowing it will be one of your lasts.

"Of course, I would. You're my person." Will peppers your face with kisses feeling his mood lighten slightly. He's willing to go through years in jail if it means coming back home to you.

"Marry me." The words come out of his mouth before he has a chance to stop them. "I-I mean...you don't have to but..I'd really li-" You shut him up with a kiss as you nod your head instantly.

"Yes. Yes. Yes." Each word is followed by a kiss somewhere on his face. Will didn't move an inch the one word repeating in his mind. You watch his face waiting for a reaction. All he does is stare at you that same look painted on his face.

You squeal slightly as Will picks you up quickly and has you lying on your back followed by a hungry kiss. You both make quick work of undressing each other. Will's hands explore your body, he commits every curve and shape to memory.

You reach down and palm at Will's cock which earns you a moan.

"I- I want to make you feel good." You pant as Will leaves hickeys across your chest.

"You do. You always do." You roll your eyes and lift his head up so he can see your face.

"Not like that...I want to...I want to suck your cock." You rush out that last part as heat rises to your cheek in embarrassment. Will smiles and then laughs which makes you frown and turn away from him. "Don't laugh at me..."

"I'm sorry baby. Im sorry." He turns you back to face him. "I'd love for you to suck my cock." He leans up off of you and rolls over to your side sitting up against your bed's headboard. You move in between his lap.

"You have to teach me how. I've never done it before." Will holds your chin between his finger and thumb and leans down giving you a quick kiss.

"You're too cute." He leans back up and runs a thumb over your lips while the other strokes his cock slowly. "Just watch for your teeth. And oddly enough think of it as an ice lollie. But, no teeth!" You smile and nod.

You take your hand and you copy what Will was doing before pumping him in your hand. You stare at the slit on the head of his penis and decide to slowly run your tongue over it. You look up to find Will's mouth agape as he watches you explore this new experience.

You finally take him in your mouth. You've seen videos online but you've always wondered what it would actually be like to give someone head.

"oh- fuck." You look up at Will. His head is thrown back and his mouth is still wide open. You feel a sense of pride from being able to make him feel this good. He's always so focused on your pleasure and never his own. "Hollow your cheeks, baby."

You do as he says and get another groan out of him. Will pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail and starts pushing you down on his own helping you take him further down your throat.

"Breathe through your nose and tap my leg if ts too much." You nod your head and Will wastes no time shoving his cock further down your throat till he's hitting the back. You moan around his cock which only makes his hips stutter as the sound is better than any sound you've ever made.

He quickens still trying not to go too fast so as to not overwhelm you but still wanting to chase that feeling. "Oh fuck I love you so much...i love you, I love you, I love you." You feel his cock twitch in your mouth and you know he's close. As a chain of fucks escapes his lips you take him as far back as you can and hold him there. Flattening your tongue so they can reach a bit of his balls. "Yes- fuck! Just like that.".

You feel your mouth fill with a warm liquid. Will pulls himself out of your mouth panting staring at your face. You make a show of swallowing his cum and showing him your empty mouth. He smiles and wipes your wet cheeks, you hadn't even noticed you were crying.

"Im not done with you yet." You notice Will is still just as hard as he was before. "There is something I want to try." He pulls you up so you're straddling him. "I want you to ride me."

Your face is quick to feel hot again under embarrassment. That was something you also hadn't done, unaware if you'd have the stamina to keep going. Will reaches down and runs a finger through your folds slipping one ever so easily inside.

"All wet just from sucking my cock?" You nod as he curls his finger into that spot only he ever manages to reach. "You gonna play with this pussy while im gone? Imagining it's me?"

"Y-yes yes." He adds another finger slowly pumping in and out of you.

"God im gonna miss this so fucking much." He uses his other hand to palm at one of your breasts while he sits up and takes your other nipple in his mouth. You meet the thrusts of his finger feeling the heel of his hand rub against your clit.

"Fuck...im so close. Don't stop." The pressure in your stomach gets tighter as you feel yourself getting lost in all the pleasure.

"Cum for me baby. Cum on my fingers." You lean down and kiss Will moaning into his mouth as you cum around his fingers clamping down on them. "Thats it, good girl."

He slowly removes his fingers and wipes your wetness all over his cock. He lifts your hips slightly not waiting for you to come down from your high. One of his hands holds your waist while the other holds his cock just below you. "Sit on it."

You slowly sink down on his cock till he's fully inside of you. You place both hands on his chest as you bounce on his cock not bothering to hold in any moans knowing your aunt is too drunk to wake up. Will holds onto your waist and fucks up into you matching your rhythm.

"You're doing so good baby." He sits up and his hands move to gripping your ass. Will knows your stamina won't last long. "Put your arms around me." Your head rests in the crook of his neck as you wrap your arms around him. He helps lower and lift you faster the only sounds filling the room are your moans and lewd wet noises.

"Fuck fuck fuck." You could feel his cock throbbing inside you and knew he was close. And Will could feel you clenching down on him signalling you near your end. "Cum with me baby."

You nod your head and search his lips for another hungry kiss. He ruts into you harder over and over until he feels you squeeze his cock harshly and moan into his mouth. He shoves himself deep inside you one last time and cums in you not remembering or caring that he isn't wearing a condom nor are you on any birth control.

Will lays back down not bothering to take himself out of you and lays you down on his chest.

"Give me 2 days. I'll tell Nan...get some stuff organized. Then I'll turn myself in."

And he did. 2 days later you were crying outside the police station giving him one last long and deep hug. He kissed your forehead repeatedly. Whispering for you to please stop crying for him.

"I love you so much, baby. Take care of Nan yeah?" He looks towards Leah and nods. She walks closer and takes your hand helping you to finally let go of Will. It was hard convincing her to come here but she ended up agreeing to for you.

"I love you too Will and I'll take care of her." He kisses your ring finger on top of the new tattoo you both got. Too broke to get a real engagement ring you convinced a buddy of his to do permanent wedding bands.

Will knew you two wouldn't be able to get married before the police would find him so you both opted to remain engaged until he got out of jail.

Will wipes the tears from his eyes as he turns and starts walking towards the police station.

"WIll! Wait!" You run back to him and he's quick to catch you carrying you in his arms as you give him one last kiss. Will holds you against him tightly wanting to remember this feeling.

Soon enough he slowly puts you back on the ground. No more words are needed and he turns and walks inside the station.

And so you watch as he walks away knowing you won't get to hold him again for a long time. The only person who ever made you feel loved, wanted and unforgettable.

Characters are not minors. Will is 18. Made a mistake earlier, my brain wanted to make him a minor so he wouldn't get a lot of time but I changed it.

A/N: Do any other writers out there feel like they write so much faster when they're fueled by delusions? I started this 2 hours ago...and somehow finished the whole thing!!!!

Please go and check out the original story here! It is honestly an amazing story and there isn't much Will fanfics out there! He deserves more love!!!

Tell me what you thought!

Taglist: @thought--bubble , @valeskafics

[venmondiese]

TAGLIST

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝/𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝!

⁀⊹GENERAL/ ALL TAGLIST.

EWANVERSE CHARACTERS

-ˋˏtom bennett

-ˋˏmichael gavey

-ˋˏbilly washington

-ˋˏwill (salad days)

-ˋˏbilly taylor

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON / A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE

ᯓ 𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 ᯓ 𝐀𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 ᯓ 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 ᯓ 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧 ᯓ 𝐀𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 ᯓ 𝐑𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐫𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 ᯓ 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 ᯓ 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐚 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫

[babyblue711]

Hi friends and welcome!

I am taking a writing break while the new season of HOTD airs, although I’m sure inspiration will strike again soon.

In the meantime, for the new followers, I write mainly for Ewan Mitchell’s characters although I’ve dabbled a bit with Aegon recently too 😏

Don’t be shy! Please feel free to leave me a comment or drop into my asks! I’m still around on Tumblr, just writing is on pause for now. I’d love to discuss any of the fics below!

I hope you enjoy 💋

Loyalty

Aemond Targaryen (HOTD) x Alys Rivers - Completed

Part 1

Part 2

Little Dragonseed - Sister Story to Loyalty - Part 1 - (Aemond x Handmaid) - Part 2 - Part 3

Surrender

Aegon II Targaryen (Modern AU) - Completed

Part 1 - (Aegon x Reader)

Part 2 - (Aegon x Reader x Aemond)

Part 3 - (Aegon x Reader x Aemond)

Devotion

Osferth (The Last Kingdom) - Completed

Prologue

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Temptation

Ettore (High Life) - Completed

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Redemption

Will (Salad Days) - Completed

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Last updated: 6/19/2024

Divider by @cafekitsune

[lightseoul]

no thoughts brain empty except for retired househusband!bakugou waiting for you to get home from work :(

[shyphonics]

Salad Days, Chapter 6: Just You and Me, Punk Rock Girl

(Rodrick Heffley x reader)

chapter directory here

Light sex warning for the beginning- 18+ plz

This chapter took me a while - I wrote the beginning the same night I wrote the first and second chapters. Then I realized I think I'm more comfortable writing horrific and sad moments than sweet moments and I kinda froze trying to fill the plot in around it lol.

Thank you so much to everyone reading this!!! The fact that it's actually getting notes makes me really, really happy :)

Also this chapter's run of songs contains a secret song in the spotify playlist oooooh

Oh my mama mama mo-my-mum

Have you kept an eye, an eye on your son?

I know you've got problems, you're not the only one

Since your sugar left, left you on the run

The gas cans felt good in his hands. Heavy. Smooth plastic snug in his fingers. His grip was tight. He reveled in the sound of the liquid sloshing around. The unmistakable smell.

Everybody fucking hated him. Every second of every day, he felt like his brain was on fire. A full body burn begging him to get out.

Get out now.

It's not like anyone was inside. The old library had been gutted weeks ago. They were supposed to demolish it next week. If he really thought about it… he was doing them a favor.

Yeah. So do it. Who gives a fuck.

He busted a window and stuck his leg inside, stepping into the decayed, old building. It smelled like dust. It smelled like school.

Stupid Frank and Susan.

Stupid Heather Hills.

Stupid Rodrick. Going nowhere, doing nothing, being nothing. Stupid.

The smell was strong, but he liked it.

He grinned, he nearly hyperventilated as he doused as much as he could.

Dizzy in his head, laughing maniacally

Breathing in fumes, killing brain cells.

What did it matter.

He shook the last drops out of the second can and tossed it across the room.

He struck a match. Let it burn out.

Struck another. Toss.

The fire erupted.

He stood there to watch it for a second, and ducked back out the window.

He knew he wouldn't have much time to admire his work, so he started running.

Deep into the woods.

He stopped and saw a ball of flames rise in the distance. The ground rumbled. His eyes went wide. He ran all the way home.

Nobody even knew he was gone. He'd left music playing in his room so it'd sound like he never left.

He watched the living room from the top of the stairs. A news report was on.

The library was directly on top of an open gas line. No fucking kidding.

Half the street went up in flames.

It's not like there was much on that street anyway, besides a strip mall with one or two active tenants. Closed for the night. No injuries reported.

His mom was crying. His dad was in shock. Greg and Manny were already asleep.

How could something like this happen? his mom whispered.

They're saying it was just some freak accident. They can't put it out. It's going to burn straight down to the foundation. Frank, incredulous.

Rodrick was silent.

~

Words to memorize

Words hypnotize

Words make my mouth exercise

Words all fail the magic prize

Nothing I can say when I'm in your thighs

“Hey,” a cool hand on his face, “where are you? Are you okay?”

He’s sent flying back to reality suddenly, looking up into your eyes. He looks frazzled. He’s not sure where that came from. All he knows is that he can never tell you.

“I'm fine,” he breathes, his hands moving to your hips, squeezing. Like he’s making sure you’re real.

How could he not be fine? The realization of what's going on hits him like a brick and he squeezes you harder.

He looks up at you like you're a goddess. Hips perfectly situated on his, eyes glinting in the low light of your bedroom. Every subtle movement you make sends a twitch through his body. Breath hitching through plush pink lips, mouth agape.

“I'm fucking amazing,” he sighs.

“Okay, good. Thought I lost you for a second.” you smile, placing a hand on his chest. His heart is racing.

You move your hips, just a little, testing the water.

He throws his head back and huffs, moving with you. He always figured that this- all of this- would be good, but he never dreamed it would be this good. It must be something special about you, he thinks.

You keep smiling down at him.

“If you wanna pick it up a little bit, go ahead,”

“P-pick it up?”

You raise yourself up off him a little, and then send yourself back down. He shudders, a grin spreading across his face. You keep it up, laughing softly, slowly bouncing up and down, skin slapping skin. Obscene, wet sounds. A groan comes from deep within his throat. He's thrusting up to meet you, knuckles white on your hips.

You haven’t had an impressive amount of sex in your life, but you’ve certainly had some experiences. Nothing has ever been like this. Rodrick is looking at you- not your body- he’s looking into your eyes. His eye contact has a sense of pleading, his lips are trembling. You lean down to kiss him. It’s tender. It’s intimate. You’d figured he’d be quick and chaotic. Experienced, maybe, but not learned.

Everything just feels so good.

His hands are gentle on your back, rubbing up around your shoulder blades. You feel his hips roll, and it sends waves of heat through your body. You keep a slow and passionate pace together, it feels like your bodies are perfectly in tune with each other.

“I can't believe that you… I…” Rodrick breathes, his brain turned to mush.

“I know,” a sharp breath leaves you as he hits a certain spot.

You speed up, both of you seeming to know what you need. Your bodies glisten with sweat, and you throw your head back, hands anchored to his shoulders. His hands move up to your chest, gently squeezing, then ghosting down your ribcage. His hands- so large, so strong. They’re slightly weathered, calloused from his drumsticks, and they’re so warm. His bony hips poke into your thighs with every thrust. You can just feel him. All of him.

Then you feel him twitch inside of you.

“I think I…” Rodrick gasps.

You look down at him, your eyes warm, reassuring him. You feel close too, still warmed up from earlier. He ruts up into you, flushed and panting. You feel yourself squeeze around him, your vision blurring slightly, as a rush of tingles runs through your whole body, and that seems to send him over the edge. He stops suddenly, breathing heavily, holding your hip down onto his, the other cupping your face. His eyes squeeze shut, then open wide, and roll back into his head.

You both sit and recover for a second, gasping for air, looking at each other. You roll off of him, and lay next to him, exhausted. He reaches out desperately to grab your thigh, as you turn to your side and throw your arm over his chest. You reach up and feel his cheek. His skin is hot, and slightly stubbled.

“I’m glad I didn’t wait.”

“You were gonna wait?” He pants.

“I don’t usually do that. That fast. But now I know.”

“Know what?” He turns his head to look at you, eyes tired.

“That I really, definitely like you.”

He laughs, pulling you closer to his chest and kissing the top of your head.

“I really, definitely like you too.”

You wriggle the comforter out from underneath you, and throw it over the both of you. It doesn’t take long for you to drift off, hands on each other, legs tangled.

For the first time in a long time, Rodrick dreams of absolutely nothing.

~

I've been waiting for a guide to come and take me by the hand

Could these sensations make me feel the pleasures of a normal man?

Lose sensations, spare the insults, save them for another day

I've got the spirit, lose the feeling, take the shock away

~

Rodrick wakes up before you, lifting his head in confusion at his unfamiliar surroundings. Until he feels your arm draped over him, and remembers where he is. It’s still early, and you’re dead asleep. He smiles, pulling you closer to him. He gazes over your face, lit up in the early morning light. You stir, coming to rest your head on his bare chest, and he’s so happy he could cry.

“Go back to sleep,” you mumble.

He does.

You wake once the sun is all the way up, blinking at the beams coming in through your window. Rodrick has an iron hold on you, and little snores are coming from him.

You can see your alarm clock from where you are, and it’s a little after 9 AM.

You turn slightly onto your back, and feel Rodrick moving.

“You up?” You look over at him. His eyelids are heavy, and there’s a lazy smile on his face.

“I’m up,” he sighs.

“Glad you didn’t sneak out on me.” You chuckle.

“Why would I do that?” His voice is sleepy, and a little whiny.

“I don’t know. Boys are weird.”

He gives you one last squeeze before he lets you up.

“You wanna shower?” You ask, running a hand through your hair.

The water is warm, and you can finally see Rodrick’s lanky body in all its glory. Steam fills the bathroom, and his face is slightly flushed.

“So, last night,” Rodrick stretches under the stream of water. You find yourself admiring the lightly defined muscles in his back, and fighting the urge to smack his ass. Maybe later.

“What about it?” You smirk, squeezing some body wash onto a washcloth.

“It was… real? Like, it happened, right?” He turns around, eyebrow raised, grinning smugly.

“As far as I'm aware,” you laugh, beginning to scrub yourself.

Rodrick pauses, water running down his shoulders.

“Wow,” he smiles, then his face falters just a little, “and… you enjoyed it?”

You give him a look, wringing out your washcloth. Instead of answering him, you just step forward and kiss him, warm water flowing over you. Your hands travel over his body, slick with water and soap. You pull away.

“Duh.” You smile.

You dry off. Rodrick's wet hair is wild, and he still has a little bit of eyeliner on.

He grabs his clothes from the night before, and you stop him.

“Are you sure about that?”

He freezes, holding his boxers with the tips of his fingers, like a deer in the headlights.

“I can… turn ‘em inside out,”

“Ew. I have clothes you can wear,” you laugh, “boxers make good pajamas, and most bands don't really make women's shirts.”

“Really?”

You toss him a pair of plain, black boxers, then get an idea. You head to your closet, where you keep your band merch.

“Y'know what? I'm returning the favor. You look like a medium.” You root through the box, and toss him a shirt with your band’s logo on the front. He holds it up to himself and smiles. You find your Löded Diper shirt, discarded along with your purse by the front door, and put it on. As you come back, he's pulling the boxers on, and you take your chance.

Smack.

“Hey!” he yelps, turning to face you, blushing just a little.

He sees your shirt, and a giddy grin appears on his face.

You find yourself at the coffee shop across the street, sitting on the little patio. The streets are packed with groups of people, enjoying the spring day. Rodrick mangles a croissant as you sip from a large, white mug. You appreciate the fact that the two of you can sit in a comfortable silence like this. You flip through the local alt paper, The Eye.

“Ooh, there's a Pyramid show tonight, my friend’s band is playing. That'd be a good place to show you. They have an entire wall of pinball machines.”

“Are you friends with all the bands?” Rodrick asks, pouring 4 packets of sugar into his coffee at once.

“Not all of them. But a lot of them. I try to network.” You shrug, reading through the event calendar.

“All the major bars are kind of in one strip, with a few outliers. Then you have your DIYs and house venues.”

Rodrick sips his coffee, makes a face, and adds 2 more sugar packets.

“Do you think we have a chance at any of them?”

“You guys are gonna have good word of mouth after last night,” you nod, “I bet in a week you'll have an offer from Pyramid or Dime Store.”

“Wow,” Rodrick breathes, assuming that must be really good.

“It looked like your guys got along with everyone, too, and Mike likes you. You've got a great start. You might even get to open for a real band once they start coming in the summer.” You smile at him, looking up from the paper.

“We are a real band,” he looks confused.

“Yeah, but, y'know. A touring band. The Casualties are coming back this summer… Circle Jerks usually run through with Descendents once a year, D.R.I. has been on a ‘retirement tour’ for the past few years,” you say, adding air quotes, “your name's on the opener list now. And most of the time, picking someone from that list falls to me… but don't expect any obvious nepotism. I try to match people up by sound.”

Rodrick grins, stars in his eyes.

“Do any bands around here, um,” he pauses, unsure how to word it, “make it?”

“Sometimes,” you lean back, thinking, “it's hard nowadays. There was this super popular indie band last year. They got picked up to be on a movie soundtrack, and they're huge now. That's what sells, these days. I'll let you work out the irony of indie selling.” You smirk.

“So, what? Heavier bands are just shit out of luck?” He takes another sip of his sugary coffee.

“That's how it goes,” you shrug, “you give up most of the hope of being famous to be a real musician. There's a reason that even huge punk bands are still just playing at bars instead of stadiums. It was never marketable. Punk’s not even a genre anymore. To me, it's having the attitude of ‘I’m pissed off, and I'm making it your problem.”

Rodrick laughs, “Okay, I do like that.”

You finish the last of your coffee, and roll up your paper, tucking it in your bag.

“You ready?” You stand up, stretching.

“For what?” he looks at you, draining his mug.

“I'm gonna show you the strip, rookie.”

You smile, holding your hand out, and he takes it.

“The Strike’s back that way, you’ve already seen it. There’s a pretty big gap of old shops and abandoned buildings from here to there.”

You lead him down the street, pointing out bars. Most of them will be closed until the late afternoon.

“There’s Pyramid, there’s Dime store. That one’s cool, the upstairs is a drag bar called Fluorescence, and the downstairs is a dive called Dim Bulb.”

Rodrick laughs, taking in the sights of the street.

“First time I ever came down here, I was with a bunch of friends who were 21, and I was still 19. Dim Bulb is all ages if you put the X’s on your hands, but Fluorescence is strictly 21+. My friends went upstairs. Downstairs was dead that night. They told me to wait in the bar and not go off walking by myself, but…”

“You went off walking by yourself?” Rodrick smirks at you.

“How’d you know?” You chuckle, “Yeah, and I had just gotten these leather pants, and I felt so fucking cool. But I was so stupid. And this gross, old guy stopped me and asked if I was ‘working’, and I said ‘no, fuck off, get away from me’,” you say, your tone nonchalant.

Rodrick raises his eyebrows, his mouth falling open.

“So, he starts chasing me down the street, yelling, ‘I’ll kill you’, and I was yelling back all this bullshit, just totally bluffing,”

You stop in front of a bodega along the street.

“And the guy who owns this place came out and scared the guy off. He’s good people.”

You wave at the man inside, who perks up and waves back.

“That place has everything. 9-volt batteries, first aid stuff, you name it. If you find yourself in a jam, head over there.”

Rodrick looks through the windows as you walk by.

“This whole street is, like… a tiny little town all on its own. Also, I'm glad you didn't get murdered.”

“Yeah,” you sigh out, looking over the strip, feeling proud, “it really is. I love it here. I’m glad I could show you around. And thanks.” You laugh, squeezing his hand.

You keep walking, down towards the point where the bars end and the shops begin. Rodrick walks slowly, swinging his hand with yours. He keeps his head on a swivel, trying to take in all there is to see. Old neon signs, graffiti-covered brick walls, and show fliers absolutely everywhere.

“I think you’re gonna like this place,” you turn to look back at Rodrick, who looks absolutely awestruck.

The bell on the record store door rings, and you're greeted by the familiar woman behind the counter, Jennifer. She’s tall and muscular, with a smoker’s voice, and impeccably curled baby bangs.

Rodrick stops as the door closes behind him. It’s a cozy, dark little room. There are houseplants everywhere, among long boxes of records on high tables. The walls are exposed brick, and light is coming in through two long, skinny windows. An orange cat rests on one of the tables, in a sunbeam. The walls are completely covered in posters, framed records, and old fliers.

“It's you! I have pulls for you,” she looks over thick-rimmed glasses at you, reaching under the counter, then sees your shirt, “what in the hell is that?”

You look down at the bold, white letters on your shirt and laugh.

“Best new band in this town. You really haven't heard of them?” You say, teasingly.

“Diaper…?” she squints, looking at you, bewildered.

“I'm just messing with you, they played their first show last night. This is the drummer, Rodrick,” you gesture to Rodrick. He approaches the counter and sticks out his hand, smiling politely.

Jennifer looks back to your shirt, then at Rodrick.

“Kid, I'll level with you. There are worse names out there.” She barks out a laugh, looking down at her hands, both being used to hold a stack of records.

Rodrick notices, and retracts his hand, laughing nervously.

You kill about an hour in the shop, looking at all the things Jennifer has hidden for you over the week. It was once a very kind thing she did when you were flat broke and new in town, but she kept it up as a tradition, because she said you got it.

Rodrick exhausts each box, looking in amazement at all the different records. 'Dad Rock,' 'Punk Rock,' 'Rockabilly,' 'Psychobilly,' 'Synth Shit for Weirdos.'

The ‘misc.’ box contains a Jane Fonda home workout, a square dancing instructional record, and a full album of canine heartbeats, meant for veterinary students. Rodrick pulls it out and looks at it, reading the cover in confusion.

“See something cool?” You perk up and walk over to him, reading the record.

“Canine Heart Sounds? Is that a band?” You squint. He stays quiet, holding in a laugh.

“‘4-10 acquired murmurs', what the fuck?”

You see the text for ‘Berkeley Medical Veterinary Group’ and let out a cackle, lightly punching Rodrick on the shoulder. He breaks too, putting the record back in the box.

“You totally thought I was all cool and underground for a second.” Rodrick laughs.

You leave the record shop, and you decide to take him to see everything. You try on leather jackets way beyond your means at the biker shop, spiked collars at the goth shop, and hats at the western shop. You point and laugh at each other the whole way, except that some of that leather had looked pretty good on Rodrick… and he might’ve thought the same about you.

By late afternoon, you’re both a little worn out, and you wind up back near where you started, at a tall, yellow building. It’s an ancient pizza joint.

Inside is a massive, wooden staircase, and yellow walls covered in sharpie graffiti. Dumb little messages, from mystery people. From who knows how long ago. It feels like a million little voices yelling at him all at once.

Penelope was here!

Aaron is a cheating douchebag!

George Dubya, suck my dick!

And band names. So many band names.

“Whoa,” Rodrick looks up. It’s even on the ceiling.

You lead him to a large window, with a greyed, wooden frame.

You fish in your purse and find a sharpie, handing it to him.

“When we first started the band, we came here to make it official. I wrote our name, right here, under the window.” You look down, away from him, feeling a little sappy.

Rodrick looks at the smooth, black writing.

The Shrieks

10.15.03

He smiles.

“And, if you’ll notice, there’s an empty space right there next to it…” you say, trying to sound nonchalant.

Rodrick smiles, then crouches down, uncapping the sharpie.

He carefully draws his logo, adding the little horns and tail, with a small safety pin and the date underneath.

He stands up, handing the marker back to you. You look down at your two logos together, then up at your coordinated shirts.

“Yeah. They look great together,” you smile up at him, “now it’s official. Welcome to the scene.”

Rodrick feels a swell in his chest, looking down at your genuine smile. He’s been just a little guarded all day, but… now he gets it. You actually want him around. It’s not a joke. It’s not a trick. You’d wanted his band to be immortalized next to yours on this greasy, strangely beautiful wall.

He catches you off guard, pulling you into a tight hug. You blink once or twice, then wrap your arms around him, smiling against his chest.

“Hey!”

You pull away from each other, and turn to where the voice came from. It’s Ward, in an apron, by the counter.

“I got a job!” He’s grinning.

The two of you walk up to the counter and catch up, refusing to give him any details, no matter how much he wiggles his eyebrows.

~

So we jumped up on the table, and shouted “anarchy!”

And someone played a Beach Boys song on the jukebox

It was “California Dreamin’”

So we started screamin’

“On such a winter’s day!”

~

The two of you sit at your little table, the sun beginning to set outside. You’re laughing at some high school story he’d been telling you- something about how he’d been in love with some girl and ruined her sweet 16.

He pauses, taking a sip out of his glass bottle, beaming.

“God, and she was really into N’Sync, so we spent all this time learning ‘Tearin��� up my Heart’,”

You cackle, slamming your hands on the table, “Oh, god, no!”

“But last minute, I told Ben I wanted to sing, and he could play drums-”

“Can he play drums?”

“Nope!” Rodrick laughs, “And I sang in this high pitched voice- she wanted us in tuxes, but, um, I kinda wasn’t listening when my brother told me that? Also didn’t have the money. But I figured all black was good enough.”

“Did you learn any boy band moves?” You wipe away a stray tear that had escaped your eye.

“I wish. That would’ve been awesome, but, no. We did set off a bunch of pyro, and I jumped off the stage.”

“Pyro?!”

“Ben’s brother is in demolition,” Rodrick laughs, but feels a little pang of anxiety with the words that leave his lips.

You don’t notice his face change, still laughing. Rodrick grins at you, wanting to make the big reveal good.

“This family was loaded, okay? Country club rich. So, the pyro goes off, and it’s chaos. I was, like, dancing around her? And I backed up right into a giant ice sculpture of her head.”

You look at him, in shock, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah, and then she tried to kill me with a mic stand, but ended up knocking over a chocolate fountain, and everyone got absolutely covered in chocolate… and then she hated me forever. Still hates me. That’s the girl from last night, by the way- my ‘girlfriend’?”

“No fucking way,” your eyes go wide. “That’s why you were staring each other down.”

Rodrick gives a satisfied nod, chuckling slightly.

“Well, I guess you learned your lesson: don’t trust the rich. First rule of punk.” You tease.

“Yeah, and if she’d actually liked it, I… I would probably be miserable,” He says, a look of realization on his face. You raise your eyebrows.

“I’d probably be at some fancy event right now wearing, like, a polo or something. Oh, god. I’d probably be working for her dad.” He looks down, eyes wide.

You boo him, giving him a thumbs down.

“I wouldn’t have met you,” He stares at you in surprise.

You smile, leaning towards him, your elbow on the table.

“I’m… so fucking glad all that bullshit back home happened,” He shakes his head, smiling, “Because now I’m here.”

“In a greasy, old pizzeria?” You smirk.

“In a greasy, old pizzeria, with you,”

You laugh, at a loss for words. Something about Rodrick seems to have bloomed today, and you like it. It’s like he finally evened out. You lean closer to him.

“I’m glad I’m here with you too,” You smile.

Your lips almost touch, but the buzzing of your cell phone interrupts you. You groan. It's Mike.

“Hey, what's up?”

“They got us! They fucking got us!”

Rodrick hears Mike screaming through the phone, and feels his heart drop.

“What? Who got us? What are you talking about?” Your heart skips a beat.

“They smashed the window! And wrote all over the walls! It's like Sharon Tate all over again!”

Your jaw drops. He's serious.

“Mike, who?”

You hear the sound of glass crunching down the line, along with Mike's enraged muttering.

“How many people did we kick out last night?” He spits.

You take a second to think.

“A lot. It got crazy.”

“Did we have to put anybody on the list?”

You make eye contact with Rodrick. His eyebrows knit together in worry.

“Yeah, there were a few.”

The List is only to be used in extreme circumstances. Any bar patrons found guilty of irredeemable asshole behavior have their IDs taken, photocopied, and returned as their asses are kicked out the front door. You're not sure how legal it is, but it's very effective.

The guy who had punched Rodrick last night, along with all of his friends, had absolutely made The List.

“I know who it was,” your voice shakes, “I’ll be right over.”

You hang up, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Did he say someone smashed the window?” Rodrick breathes in disbelief.

“Yeah,” you put your head in your hands, “do you know the name of that guy who punched you?”

“Ugh. Bryan Kent.” Rodrick frowns.

“Do you think he'd do something like that?”

“Yeah.” He says, without hesitation.

“Fuck!” You sigh, “At least we have a name.”

Rodrick looks at you, guilty, like he might cry. You feel a pang of sadness.

“No, no, sorry. Shit. Don’t feel bad, it’s not your fault, I’m just pissed off.” You ramble.

The bar is like your baby. Though you’ve only worked there a year, it means a lot to you. Mike had drunkenly promised to leave it to you several times, and you feel a strong protective urge over it.

“I gotta go,” you grimace, “Should I take you home?”

He nods, looking dejected.

There are two cop cars parked outside Rodrick’s apartment building, and you notice him gripping the door handle tightly.

“Wonder what that’s about?” You murmur.

“Could you take me around the back?” Rodrick’s voice shakes.

You look at him, raising an eyebrow, but circle around back anyway.

 He opens your car door and gets out.

“Hey,” you stop him, “that was really fun. I hate that it ended this way, but… we’ll see each other again, okay? I don’t want this to be a one time thing. I… I really like you.”

“Me either.” He nods. His voice is cold, and his eyes are void of all emotion.

You know something is wrong, but you have bigger problems on your hands right now.

“Okay,” you give him a weak smile.

He grimaces, and shuts the door. You watch him walk through a grimy back entrance, and pull off.

“Rodrick, dude,” Ben looks at him with bug eyes when he walks through the door, “the fucking cops were here!”

Rodrick freezes.

“Did they leave?”

“Yeah, but they were looking for you, man.” His voice is hushed and panicked.

Rodrick checks the window, and the cop cars are gone.

“What did they say?”

“Something about your name being associated with a crime scene?”

Rodrick turns to look at him, “What?”

~

So while you sit back and wonder why

I got this fuckin’ thorn in my side

Oh my god, it’s a mirage

I’m tellin’ y’all, it’s sabotage

~

tag list: @crumpets-are-better-with-jam

[slushycoookie]

What's That Smell? ~ Logan Howlett x Fem! Reader

✩ Word Count: 3.1k

✩ Content: Worst!Logan and Hairdresser! Reader. Wade acts like he's innocent in this, but he's not. Pheromone perfume. Logan doesn't go feral, but he gets there. P in V. Vaginal Fingering. Squirting. MINORS DNI!!

✩ A/N: I had to write about my man reacting to pheromone perfume. Enjoy!

Masterlist | Commissions

“Happy birthday!”

Wade hands you a pink gift bag stuffed with sparkly tissue paper. “It's not my birthday.”

“You're so silly.” He waves you away with a sensible chuckle. “It's someone's birthday somewhere. Anyway, I saw this and thought of you.”

You pull out a small bottle of perfume decorated in a crystal clear color. The design looked oddly familiar, but you couldn't pinpoint where you saw it. “Oh, thanks. I've been meaning to get some more perfume.”

“Well, the gods answered, and as your friend, I am known for reading my friend’s minds.”

You're pretty sure Logan brought it up to him one day, but you didn’t question it. You thanked him with a hug, and he mentioned something about doing a fashion show for Mary Puppins when he left your apartment.

It was nice of Wade to give you a gift. He's always been generous towards you since you were with Logan, but you didn’t expect something like this.

You even mentioned Wade's generosity to Logan later on, who gave a questionable raise of an eyebrow.

“Really? He bought you perfume?”

“Yeah.” You pull out the bag and show him the bottle. “Wasn't that sweet of him?”

Logan squints at the bottle, still not convinced. “I guess so.”

“You guess so.” You rolled your eyes. “Can’t you believe that he wanted to be nice? He doesn't seem like the type to play a cruel joke.”

“Cruel isn't the word I'd use.” He grumbles.

You place the pink gift bag back on your dresser, reminding yourself to use it the next time you go out.

That next time was for running errands. You had to restock the kitchen, enough to last you and your superhero boyfriend, who loves to eat and drink, for a couple of weeks. Plus, you needed to get more supplies for the salon. Logan would meet up with you at the store since he spent the night back at Wade's to prep for Mary Puppin's first day at doggy school. You could tell from the brief phone call last night that he was worn out.

You throw on an oversized t-shirt, leggings, and sneakers. Not the most attractive outfit. Before you left, your eyes landed on the gift bag. Harmlessly, you sprayed Wade's perfume behind your ears and the space between your bicep and forearm.

Running errands was serious for you. You weren't the biggest fan of spending hours at the store, wasting time grabbing groceries. Logan agreed with you on that front, as he didn’t want to waste time either.

Once you stepped foot inside the store, you were ready. With a list in hand, you were filled with total concentration. A few minutes later, there was a shift.

You received a lot more attention.

Many people coming up to you to tell you smell good. You just started in the produce aisle, and four people approached you. It surprised you the multitude of compliments you were getting despite having the appearance of a bum. Others were making conversation while you were trying to shop, asking you simple questions about good salad dressing brands. Or how many spices you have in your home. Trying to get closer to you.

One man didn't seem to get the hint that you were busy. He offered to help you with your groceries while you were in the cereal aisle. Logan's favorite brand of raisin bran was on a high shelf, causing said man to grab it for you. You were polite, but maybe you shouldn't have been, as he constantly hovered around you. Drawn to you for reasons you can't explain. Talking your ear off about whatever he could think of.

“You probably have your own shopping to do. I don't want to distract you.” You say, hoping politely declining him would make him take the hint.

“No, no, it's alright. I don't want to leave a defenseless person like you.”

You hold back at getting annoyed, “…it's a grocery store.”

“Still, I just think-”

“You got cotton in your fucking ears?” In a blink, Logan grabs the intruding guy by his shoulder, effortlessly pushing him away. “She didn't need any fucking help, bub.”

The guy scoffs, rolling his hips to make himself look more arduous, “And who are you?”

“Her boyfriend, who isn't afraid to make you a pathetic stain on the ground.”

You knew he meant it, but you also didn’t want to get banned as you really liked this store. The guy took the hint, leaving the cereal aisle like a defeated puppy.

“My hero.” You kiss Logan's cheek and see him sniff the air. He turns towards you, pupils almost blown. Before you can ask if he's alright, he grabs your wrist, smelling the space between your bicep and forearm. The action makes you laugh a little.

“What's that smell?” Logan takes a few more sniffs, and you feel blood rush to your cheeks. “It's sweet. Really fucking sweet.”

“O-Oh, I put on perfume today.” You didn't need to ask if he liked it as he was glued to your form, sniffing behind your ears, his breath fanning your neck.

“Is this new? I've never smelled this before.”

“Yeah, it's the one from Wade.”

Logan lets out a groan that sends straight to your core. Goosebumps coat your flesh, and you shudder when his hands creep under your shirt to feel your bare skin. His touch was hot, almost making your back arch. You had to remember you were in a grocery store. There were eyes on you two, and you had to regain some control, or else there'd be two new names on the sex offender list.

“Baby, we got things to do.”

You pull away from him, trying to ignore Logan's dejected face at the fact they had errands to run. He hardly said anything else after that. He delegated his role to being the silent shopper, pushing the cart and responding briefly whenever you talked to him. To anyone else, he gave off the appearance of a man not wanting to go grocery shopping. You knew it was something else when you noticed his knuckles turning white from gripping the cart. Everything in your body warned you not to get close to him until the errands were done.

An unsettled feeling arose inside your stomach when the two of you were outside, a cart filled with groceries. Logan mentioned he brought Althea's car, which is one of the few words he's said since then.

He told you to wait in the car while he put the groceries in the trunk. You wanted to help, but he pushed you to go inside, almost gritting his teeth. There, you sat on the passenger side while waiting for him to finish. Logan was taking his time and acting completely different from your usual outings. At one point, you saw him with his head towards the sky, taking heavy breaths, hands on his hips.

You had a feeling this was your fault somehow.

When Logan got inside, you ask, “You okay?”

“No.” He doesn't start the car yet. You could see the veins across his hands when he gripped the steering wheel. “You don't know how fucking good you smell right now. It's everywhere. My nose, my head, my thoughts. You don't know bad I'm trying not to rip your clothes off and fuck you in the backseat. ”

You didn't know what to say, but you liked it. Your thighs squeezed together at how a couple of spritzes of perfume were affecting him.

“Is it that bad? Do you wanna go home instead?”

Logan shakes his head, “You still have to go to the beauty store.”

“I can get those things another day-”

“No, sugar. I'm not ruining your plans because of a damn perfume.”

Butterflies tangle in your stomach. This man still had ways to make you shiver. You just needed to be a responsible adult for a bit longer.

The beauty store was five minutes away, but being in the car with Logan felt like an eternity. His large hand rested on your thigh, creating heat through his palm. Your thoughts wanted him to go higher, near your sex, to feel how horny you were getting. The car started getting warmer too, sweat forming on your brow. If Logan hadn't smelled you earlier, he would probably have smelled you now.

“I'll go in with ya.” He offers when pulling into a parking spot.

“No need! I'll probably be a bit anyway.”

You rush out of the car before he can say anything else. Practically running inside the store so you can get your mind straight. Your boyfriend's words were hovering in your mind, and you resisted the urge to turn back around and have him go by his word.

You needed to calm your mind. Hopefully shopping for more supplies would help and Logan staying in the car.

“Now, what kind of man would I be if I let my lady go in alone?” Logan's gruff tone sent chills across your spine and his arm around your waist to press against your back. No words escaped you as he sniffed behind your head. “Say something.”

“Logan…” You let out a shaky breath, trying not to falter at the proximity. He couldn’t resist copping a feel on your breast, which made you bite your lip. “There are cameras.”

He grunts, burying his face in your neck as you two stand awkwardly in the shampoo aisle. Thank goodness there was no one nearby to witness it.

“I'm behaving.”

“Barely.”

When you were usually out to restock, you were quick, decisive, a separate list on hand to make sure you had everything you needed for the salon. This time, you were slower and more distracted as Logan was glued to your hip. Giving you extra hugs after picking up an item you need on your list. A gentle kiss to your neck. His arm possessively around your waist. The man wasn't even a massive fan of pda either. Whatever this perfume was had him forgo his usual self.

When people were nearby, he didn't leave your side. His large pupils were on them as if they were a threat as if they were going to take you away from him.

If you had any more errands to run, that would have to wait another day. Once you two checked out from the store, your man was about to snap.

Logan was dead silent when he started the car, his knuckles almost turning white again. The apartment was only fifteen minutes away, and you weren't sure if he would be able to hold on that long. You only noticed deep, heavy breaths that overshadowed the radio you turned on to distract yourself. You weren't sure if you wanted to ask if he was okay again. You had a feeling he was going to go true to his word to fuck you in the backseat.

Once pulling up to your apartment, you were ready to get out, but his hand held yours to stop you.

“I'll get the bags.”

“There's a lot of them, I can help-”

“No.” He cuts you off, bringing your wrist up to his face and taking a long sniff. You squeezed your thighs together at the sight. A whimper almost escaped your lips. “Go wait in our room.”

You had nothing else to say after that.

You did as you were told, sitting on the edge of the bed while holding your hands. Your heart pounding in your chest as you heard Logan bring the bags inside. You weren't sure why you were nervous. You were doing what you were told.

Maybe he told you to wait because the scent was becoming unbearable. That he couldn’t focus, or your scent was dampening his enhanced abilities. Did you mess up? All you did was put on perfume. Or did Wade mess up? Did he accidentally bring you something that affected mutants? You should’ve thought twice before accepting a gift from him.

Slow and heavy footsteps made it's way into the room. You watched Logan close the door and lock it as if there was anyone around to disturb you.

“Take off your clothes.” He starts pulling off his own shirt.

You did so, albeit a bit slower than him. Your thighs clenched as you knew your cunt was wet from all of the waiting, the touches, and kisses from the stores, his filthy words. Logan's eyes scanned your naked body when he got closer. You tried not to focus on his hard cock, red around the tip, cum leaking from it. You wondered how long he was holding that in.

“You got some type of power I don't know about?” He doesn't give you a chance to answer when he presses against your naked body. Heat coming from his chest that was making you flustered. “You secretly a mutant, and you decided not to tell me?”

“No! No, I'm not a mutant. I swear all I did was just put on some perfume-”

Logan silences you with a kiss. Hands on your sides while groaning between your lips. You thought he was mad at you, yet he was sticking his tongue down your throat. His rough hands on your sides. You hold on to him for dear life when he parts, sniffing the air, and you feel yourself getting wetter.

“Motherfucking perfume should not make you smell this good, Jesus fucking Christ.” Logan swears while he's buried against your neck again, licking and sucking along your skin. You whine at how rough he's getting, as if he needs more of you. “I won't get mad if you tell me you are a mutant right now because fuck…”

Logan picks you up and tosses you on the bed. You barely have time to recover when he flips you over on your stomach. A hand presses on your back, keeping you firmly against the mattress. His lips kiss behind your earlobe before giving it a gentle nibble. That makes you shift underneath him, causing him to shush in your ear.

“Hold still.”

You do as you're told, whimpering at the touch of his lips against your nape. A light kiss, one that makes you want to put your head back, which is followed up by a nibble. Logan does the same while trailing down your back. You feel his hands palm the globes of your ass while he does so, creating tiny circles with his thumbs.

You moan into your pillow, and you know you're embarrassingly wet now. Your cunt is pulsing with the need to have him inside you already. His fingers dip inside you, and you gasp in surprise. Logan's able to pump his thick digits into your aching hole while leaning over you again, taking another whiff of your perfume.

“Lift your hips up for me, baby.”

You struggle to move your hips as he’s still two fingers inside you, but he helps you, a firm hand on your hip. When he does so, he moves down to your clit. The two fingers coated with your wetness parted your folds, rubbing that sensitive bud. It was getting harder to do as you were told. Keeping still as he played with your pussy. Taking in how delicious you smelled with the perfume.

“Logan.” You murmured against your pillow, “Please…”

“Please? My lady's begging for me?” Logan lets out a short laugh, not stopping his fingers. “You want me to fuck that pretty pussy of yours, huh?”

“Please…” You were on the brink of tears, that familiar feeling in your stomach about to tip over. Logan didn't show you any mercy, making you sob against your sheets. His fingers rubbed your sensitive clit until you couldn’t take it anymore.

You ached for him to be inside, cunt pulsing for him to slip his cock in. Once again, the tip of his nose brushed against your ear lobe as well as his cock in your sex. Your body quivered as his chest was on your back, hovering over you for complete control.

“Think you can give me another?”

You didn't have time to answer as he started pounding into you. Sticky, wet sounds in your ears as you were pinned. Not having a single thought every time Logan's hips met with yours, mouth wide open as you were being fucked dumb. A hint of your drool staining the sheets.

The headboard banging against the wall, mattress squeaking as Logan kept going. Grunting in your ear, saying that your scent was even better after your orgasm. That he wasn't going to come until you squeezed around his thick cock. And he meant it when he rubbed against your pulsing clit. You shook, moaning at his touch and how his cock pistoned into you.

Logan was angled perfectly to where he started hitting your G-spot, causing your vision to get blurry. Still not stopping on the assault on your clit.

“Lo…Logan…” Your body was getting hotter, another climax on the horizon.

“You almost there, princess?” Your answer was only a whine, and that was good enough for him. “That’s it, that's it. Do it for me, baby.”

This orgasm was different. As you came undone, wetness coated Logan's cock, some dripping down your thighs and his own.

“Oh fuck-” Without warning, he shot up inside you. Grunting in your ear while his seed filled your cunt, mixing with your own arousal and trailing down your thighs as well. Logan lazily pumped into you to make sure you got it all while groping your ass.

You could hardly move with Logan on top of you. Thank goodness he didn't rest his total weight on you, or you'd be crushed. He waited a few moments before pulling out, leaving you to lie on your side, completely docile.

No words were said when he cleaned you up, towel between your legs as he kissed your forehead. You started getting coherent enough to realize the groceries were still out, but Logan said he already put them away for you.

With a sigh of relief, you glanced over at the perfume before reaching for your phone to look up the label. That's when your eyes went wide at the reveal.

Wade gifted you pheromone perfume.

No wonder Logan was acting unhinged all day. With his heightened sense of smell, of course something like this would affect him. That is definitely the last time you take a gift from Wade.

As you showed Logan what the perfume was, his brows furrowed in slight annoyance, calling him an asshole.

“But,” Logan folded his arms, glancing away from you. “I wouldn't mind if you wear this more often…”

[gyuswhore]

Sit Down

anniversary event [closed]

kim mingyu x reader

prompt(s): getting aroused by the other's jealousy/obsession with them, "Could he/she/they do it like this?”, “you're sexy when you're angry”

word count: 5.1k

warnings: smut (MINORS DNI), fluff, potter!mingyu, they're married, reader discovers jealousy, oral (m.rec), penetration (unprotected!!!), kissing, breast play, clit stimulation, they're nasty as hell idk what to tell you

synopsis: It isn't your fault that you feel this way, especially as you watch her hands trace over your husband's own.

It isn't your fault that you can barely go on with your day with that cursed image replaying in your mind like a broken record.

And it certainly isn't your fault that you find yourself completely naked on your husband's lap while his clay-clad hands cannot touch you.

[a/n]: @highvern at the scene of the crime as always, we all have to thank her for her service as she betas for me and encourages my tomfoolery. enjoy this and let me know your thoughts in the rbs, comments or send me an ask!!!!!

masterlist

The grip you have on the file is proving to be detrimental to the cheap plastic covering. Not that you could blame yourself as you watch your husband through the window of his pottery studio, leaning over to help a student with her discombobulated salad bowl. 

It was a beautiful morning, the beach across from the boardwalk sparingly occupied with delighted tanners and swimmers, the low buzz of waves reaching the shore sending a calming draft across the area. Envious as you were of Mingyu and his impeccable real estate choices, especially right now as your heel clad feet ache to take a dip in the waters, you couldn’t help but feel all the more irked that this was the background the image inside the studio was sitting against. 

Through the large glass windows, Mingyu is pressing his foot over top of his very pretty student’s on the pedal to force the pottery wheel to spin, hands over her own as he guides her fingers to put pressure on the wet clay. A spiteful part of you pushes a thought in your mind, that your husband was attempting to fix a lost cause, especially when his student seemed quite insistent in her soft smiles and keeping her gaze on the fingers that cover her own, rather than actually fixing the abomination on the pottery wheel. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been standing there by the time he’s done, straightening his back to turn his attention to the other students that make their attempts at their half done projects. Mingyu catches your figure through the window and immediately breaks into a big smile, clay covered hand coming to wave at you. 

Taking it as your cue to walk into the studio, you return neither his gorgeous smile or his occupied wave as you strut through the glass doors. Your husband meets you on the other side of the open space, hands now washed clean as he leans over to place a kiss on your cheek. 

“Hey, you,” he says in greeting, hands drying on a towel. 

All you can think about is if that salad bowl girl can see you, and you thank goodness you wore your nice top today. 

“Here.” You merely push the slightly crumpled file of documents to his chest, jaw set and lips tight. 

“Oh, thanks,” he comments as he grabs the papers pushed towards him, smile dropping a little at your abrupt attitude. “Is everything alright?” 

“Hm? ‘Course,” you answer, adjust the strap of your bag. “I have to get back to work. Be careful about your paperwork next time, I can’t keep making trips across town for this.”

You bite your tongue as soon as you say it, the words tumbling out before you can help it. Can’t keep making trips across town for this? Last time you checked, you were looking for passive excuses to make the trip to your husband’s studio just to see him during the day. 

“Oh.” His brows are furrowed, the frown apparent on his face. “I–I didn’t think you’d be too busy today, you said you’d be done early so—I—nevermind. I’m sorry I pulled you out of work for this, I’ll be careful next time.”

There’s a pang in your heart as you hear him apologise, immediately mad at yourself for going on and ruining his mood. What were you annoyed at? That he was doing his job? 

Your gaze lands behind him where most of his students are occupied with their projects, but just one whose eyes dart between you and Mingyu. 

Taking a step back, you’re about to walk out before you feel him grab your wrist. “D’you wanna have dinner at the new restaurant down the pier after work? We can watch the sunset too, haven’t done that in a while.”

You want to scream yes. Of course you want to watch a beach sunset with your husband. Of course you want to eat at the restaurant you’ve been waiting eagerly for with your husband. And you aren’t entirely sure if this reaction is simply because you’ve been stressed lately, but the sticky feeling is pushing you to make your claim in some way, somehow. 

Biting back another strangely snarky reply, you make an attempt to fix your stoic face and walk back to Mingyu. Leaning up, you kiss the corner of his mouth in what you hope is slightly reassuring. 

“I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Kicking off your heels is the first thing you do once you make it back to your desk, taking no time to punch the power on button on your computer. You pull a file from the stack next to you, one that sits at the bottom, with a harder than necessary yank. Bad idea, because as you scramble to stop the pile from tipping over entirely, you can only think of other ways your day could get worse. 

Before the worst of it can hit the floor, you find a second set of hands catching the strewing papers. 

“Thanks, Han,” you say as you attempt to reorganise the documents, taking the extra ones off his hands. 

“Have the laws of physics forsaken you? Or do you just like reorganising paperwork?” Hansol asks, sipping on something from the stupid horse mug Mingyu had made for him in light of his promotion. 

Huffing, you only haphazardly stuff the files to the corner to be done with it, opening the file you need as your computer finally boots up. “Don’t you have manager stuff to do?” 

“Being a manager means I can put off doing manager stuff,” he states. “Besides, I’m taking care of my peers, can you imagine the catastrophe that could’ve been if I didn’t swoop in to save you?”

“Papers on the floor? How catastrophic indeed,” you monotone as you click away at trying to find a particular excel sheet. 

“How was Mingyu?”

Stiffening, you want to curse Hansol at reminding you of the very thing you did not want to think of right now. 

“He was fine.”

“You were back earlier than usual, thought you would’ve had lunch with him.”

That was your plan, but clearly the universe had other ways for you to go about your day. Like thinking about an overly flirty student and her all too oblivious teacher. 

“He…he had a workshop today,” you simply comment. 

“Okay, Elsa, who shoved an ice cube up your ass?” You can hear the sneer in his voice, the judgmental stare. 

Groaning loudly, you can only slam your forehead onto your desk in an all too dramatic fashion. “Can you drop it? Please?”

“Ah,” he drags. “Trouble in paradise. Understood. I will be at my desk if you want to complain about your husband like Margaret from Finance.”

Margaret from Finance. The woman who’s entire catalogue of marital issues would be solved if she and her husband simply spoke to each other once in a while. Perhaps even held hands on occasion. 

You wince as you envision yourself becoming as stuck up and miserable as that, Hansol’s harmless comparison sending you into yet another spiral. It wasn’t that serious, this was all because your brain was stressed, horny and in love. The fact that your husband looked like how he did wasn’t really helping either. 

With a little more aggression than you usually would’ve done with, you attempt to skim through the files as quickly as humanly possible, flicking through the useless filler pages to get to the ones that actually required your attention. 

You send a passive aggressive email to Hansol entailing his job to keep things precise. 

Shoving forkfuls of salad into your mouth, your mouse clicks louder than anyone else in the area, having gone back to change your cursor speed about thrice since you turned your computer on. 

Your phone dings. Closing your eyes, you count to ten before turning to look at the illuminated screen beside you. 

[Gyu <3]: did u have lunch?

[Gyu <3]: i wanted us to get sum together but u zoomed off : (((

[Gyu <3]: im done with my classes for the day. The students were asking ab you earlier when u came in heh

[Gyu <3]: cant wait to see u tonight i looooooveee u <333

God, he makes it hard to stay mad at him. 

Snapping your head back to your monitor, you close your eyes once again as you question the war in your head and chest. Why were you mad at him? There was nothing to be mad about. Did you expect him to go about his day covered in plastic wrap and a neon ‘OFF LIMITS’ sign all day? The ring on his finger was supposed to do the job just fine. 

You sigh as you force yourself to text him back something that wasn’t entirely passive aggressive. Typing and erasing, and typing again and erasing again. A smiley face to seal it into something you were not feeling, and send. 

It’s late in the afternoon by the time you’re done, the sun less blaring as it pours through the office windows. You flick the last file shut, power off your computer and spring up to your feet, immediately gathering your things. Phone, ID, keys, and the last plastic file in your hands, you stalk towards Hansol’s desk and slam the papers next to his computer. 

He nearly chokes on his pocky stick as you spit out your final notes in rapid fire, not caring if you were indecipherable in the slightest. Hansol’s eyebrows remain in the air by the time you’re done, spinning on your heels and walking straight towards the elevators. 

“See you, Monday!” you finally hear him call out and you don’t turn to return his goodbye. Something that might have given you a strike but you could threaten him to take it off all the same. 

Besides, you had somewhere to be, and the idea churning in your brain didn’t seem like it wanted to wait. 

The sun is setting by the time you get to the beach boardwalk, climbing the steps to the line of establishments that overlook the significantly more occupied shore. Everything is perfect. Warm just the right amount, the sunlight forcing everything in its path into an incandescent glow. 

What you would’ve given for a nice lie on one of the beach chairs to release an entire day’s worth of tense muscles. But alas, you trudge straight down the boardwalk and walk the way to Mingyu’s studio. When you’re nearly there, you see the glass door of the studio open from a distance, immediately recognising the part timer leaving for the day. 

You cross paths as he walks towards you in the opposite direction, lighting up as he recognises you through your work attire. 

“Oh, hi!” Chan chirps, arm raised in a half wave. 

“Hi! Clocking out?” you ask as you stop to greet him. 

“Uh—yeah, Mingyu let me go early.” He’s grinning. 

“Good to hear. You enjoy the rest of your night, alright?” 

“Yeah–uh, you too!” he stutters once again as he continues to smile wide. You think nothing of it and continue your short walk to where the studio doors were. 

Coming round, you find the large glass door and walls have been blocked out with the blinds, the blaring CLOSED sign right at the entrance. 

You stand there in front of the door like a fool, taking a deep breath, eyes closed as you gain your bearings. Grabbing the shiny handle, you push the unlocked glass open. 

The bell at the top jingles, signalling a customer, and you watch your husband sitting at one of the turntables, clearly occupied. The studio is completely empty except for him, the whirr of the spinning table coming to a halt as he turns to tell whoever came in that they were closed for the day. 

It’s revolting. He’s wearing his usual black tee, stained with months of splattered clay, his hair tousled like he’d run his hands through it before he started his project. The sun seeps in through the neglected edges of the top of the glass walls, past the blinds that cover most of them, casting him in an unbelievable light. It’s revolting, he’s done nothing and it’s making your head reel; revolting. 

“We’re—oh, you’re early!” There it is, that stupid smile he can’t help but flash at every last person he sees, directed straight at you laced with nothing but love. 

Reaching behind you, you push the metal lock on the door to click it shut, locking the both of you inside, and the rest of the beach and boardwalk out. Right after, you begin to kick off your heels. 

“I already made the reservations for an hour from now, let me change and wash up so we can go to the beach till—”

“Sit down.”

He was halfway out of his seat as he was talking, ready to leave his half done work on the turntable to leave with you. Your words come out firm, a strange tone like you were giving him a command. 

It works, and the shock has him immediately falling back into his chair. The force pushes the chair away from the turn tables, now half facing you.  

Dropping your bag, you shuck your long coat off and leave it on the floor. Eyeing his hands, they’re covered in wet clay, suspended away from his body so as to not ruin his clothes more than they already are, speckled with dried clay and paint. 

He recovers quickly, confused as he watches you fiddle with the buttons on your bottoms, rising out of his chair once again. 

“What are you—” 

“I said,'' you grunt as you finally push your bottoms down so they hit the floor. “Sit down.” 

The shift in his face makes it obvious it has clicked in his head, staring at you as you walk towards him in just your blouse as the situation escalates faster than he can keep up with. 

“Right now? Can you at least let me—”

Through his blabbering you’ve reached him and swung a leg over his lap, seating yourself on his clothed thighs as he moves his hands away, making sure not to get clay all over your blouse. 

His hands may be occupied in a different sense, but you choose to busy yours in other ways. Taking his face in your hands, you lock your mouths in an open mouthed kiss, rendering him speechless. 

Taking no time to think, nor to let him think, you push your hips down to meet his own in a deep grind, panty clad pussy making contact with the rough of his jeans right over his bulge. The feeling is so sudden, spiking throughout your system as you hear him take a sharp inhale still pressed into your mouth.

That was you. That was you getting that reaction out of him, no matter how small it was. The thought has you gripping the back of his head, fingers making home in the short strands of his hair as you let go from the kiss. 

Wasting no time, you push his head back and stick your tongue out, licking a stripe from the base of his throat right up to his jaw. He shivers beneath you, and it only muddles your mind even more. 

You can feel his bulge beneath you growing larger and larger by the second, pressing into your inner thigh as his breathing grows exponentially heavier in your ear. Locking eyes with him, you trail your other hand down to graze over the front of his shirt, pressing into the bumps and ridges that lie beneath.

Reaching his buckle, you hook your finger underneath the gap and pull at the metal. As you let go, it snaps back into place with a resounding cling! Keeping the eye contact, you drift even lower, your fingers find the growing tent in his jeans as you cup the bulge. Moving your hands in the way you know he likes it, you curb your speed to drag out the feeling for him. 

“Fuck,” you hear him curse lowly. 

It’s becoming impossible for him to keep his composure, especially to keep his hands away from your body that sits on him. He gets close, fingers brushing the white of your blouse in a moment of confusion, instant brown on the surface as his wet, clay hands ruin your shirt. 

“If you really can’t keep your hands to yourself,” you say, halting your movements on his crotch. “I guess this’ll have to go too.”

Not bothering to undo all the buttons, you tug the first couple ones unfastened and pull your blouse over your head, throwing it somewhere behind his head. Quickly, you reach behind and unclasp your bra, flinging it away in the same general area. You’re now almost entirely naked while he remains clothed head to toe. 

Your nipples harden as they meet the air in the studio, Mingyu’s eyes set on your mounds as he takes them in. 

Before he has the opportunity to do anything, you slip off of your seat in his lap, knees slamming the floors in your haste as you kneel before him. Hands flying, you tug at the buckle of his belt, undoing it despite your hurried motions. 

“You’ve been off today, are you sure everything’s alright?” Mingyu asks from, still wide eyed as he watches helplessly as you yank his jeans enough to reveal the final layer of his underwear. It doesn’t take you long to take his entire length out of there too, needing him in front of you.

“Do not ask me about my feelings when I’m trying to fuck you.”

“What on earth–shit!”

You’ve taken his now fully hard length into your hand, licking a strip from the base of his cock up to the bulbous head. The tip of your tongue teases the head ever so lightly, and Mingyu watches as his head and your tongue match in their reds. He watches the way your tongue dips into the pooling white of his precum, pushing into his slit as the tip of your tongue wiggles slightly. 

The fact that he cannot touch only heightens the effects of your teasing, clayed hands balling into fists just to feel something on his fingertips. 

Soon, your lips have wrapped around the head of cock as you let it rub against the beginnings of the inside of your soft mouth. Letting go, you take him in again, this time running your tongue over his slit, feeling his hips twitch beneath you as you continue to take him in and out, only to take him back in again. 

In one motion, you sink your mouth lower onto his dick, feeling the head of his cock run against the roof of your mouth. Mingyu hisses audibly amidst his very loud and heavy breathing. 

When you feel him hit the beginnings of your throat, you pull back, bringing your hand to curve around the base to cover what you couldn’t fit, pumping him up and down as you continue to pull his member in and out of your mouth. 

He’s moaning loud, the echoes resonating off the walls as you hear your name slip from his mouth over, and over, and over again. It only encourages you as you move down deeper, his cock touching the back of your throat in more familiarity than before. 

Everything is wet; the spit and precum turning into a shiny gleam on his cock and on the lower half of your face, the heat between your legs that makes you feel oh so empty. Clenching around nothing, you resist the urge to bring a hand down to relieve yourself. 

“Are you ovulating or something, why are you suddenly…suddenly, fucking hell I don’t know.” 

Releasing him from your mouth with a loud pop, you rear your head to look up at him, the lower half of your face covered in a wet glisten. Your hand continues to pump him as you watch his face remain contorted in pleasure.

In a daze, you don’t realise what you’re saying as you blab. “Could she do it like this?”

“What?”

“Could she do it like this?” you repeat like a mantra, needing to hear his answer. “Could she make you feel like this?”

“What are you talking about?” It’s taking Mingyu every bit of his soul to form coherent words. 

In one swift motion, you’ve hoisted yourself back on your feet, nails digging into his thighs through his pants. 

Hovering over his lap, you take his shaft once again, but this time you push your panties aside with your hand and bring it close to your heat, brushing the head of his cock over your wet folds, using him to feel the pleasure that builds. 

“God, you’re so wet,” he blabs as he throws his head back at the feeling. “I wanna touch you, fuck I need to get this clay off, I need to touch you.”

He’s brought his mouth to latch onto your nipple, evoking a loud gasp from you as feel him circle your nub with his tongue before sucking. Letting go, he sticks his tongue out as his only weapon, flicking it repeatedly as you continue to rub his wet cock over your equally wet cunt. 

Lining him up with your entrance, you sink onto his head as you let out a loud moan, feeling the tip stretch you out in the familiar way you’ve been craving all day. It’s like your brain is buffering as you recover from the bout of pleasure, barely registering that he’s continued to assault your other nipple now. 

Your free hand comes to toy with your relieved tit, twisting your spit covered nipple between your fingers as his dick pushes further and further inside you. 

Fully sheathed, you pull your husband’s face away from your breast as you bring his lips to your own, kissing him deep as you clench around his hard cock.

“Don’t. Do that,” he hisses against your lips, hands suddenly closing in your waist, so close before he realises he can’t. “‘M gonna fucking come, I’m so serious.”

The news is enlightening, especially as it encourages you to lift your hips ever so slightly, and curl back back down in an initial thrust. Again, and again, and again till you’re moving your hips at a swift pace, striking down on his length as you both moan into each other's mouths.

The feeling is electrifying, and the borderline pornographic noises your husband is making is only making it all the more easier to gush around his member, to move your hips faster as you feel the knot in your abdomen tighten and loosen. 

“You feel amazing, so fucking good,” he grunts as he mouths the column of your throat. “My baby, my darling, my wife.”

And when the burn in your thighs becomes more than just a mental battle, your hips slowing despite the mind boggling feeling and the choked sobs that come out of you, you feel Mingyu’s hips lift from the chair he’d been trapped in, pushing into you instead. 

His still dirty hands have taken hold of the top of the back legs of the chair, helping himself push off his seat to thrust into you rapidly. 

“Touch yourself, baby,” he says. “Rub your clit for me.”

Who are you to deny him, one hand on one of his broad shoulders while the other flies down to the mess that’s becoming of your cunt. Rubbing two fingers over your clit, you throw your head back in a loud moan as you feel yourself beginning to close in.

Mingyu is watching the apex of your thighs; the way your fingers work against your swollen clit, the way his dick disappears inside you, a ring of sinful white foaming at the base of his cock. He twitches inside you, a clear indication that he was also close. 

Your breasts are a sight to behold, and the scene before him is enough to make him bust entirely. Bouncing tits that he cannot touch, perfectly red, puffed pussy he cannot touch, the beautiful curves and dips of your waist and thigh, barely illuminated by the setting sun, that he cannot touch. He curses the wretched idea to make a last minute thing on the turntable before you arrived, curses the fact that he should be able to feel all of you. 

He might lose his mind, and he does when your walls clamp down on him like a trap, your moans so loud he’s sure he’ll be hearing them in his ears for weeks. 

“G–Gyu, I’m cumming,” you whimper through the pure brain fog. 

Mingyu fucks you through your orgasm, finally letting himself release his own load into you when he simply can’t take it anymore, dick spasming as he shoots white hot cum into your hole. The added slick makes it easier to slip in and out faster as his orgasm holds out far longer than it usually does, both of your hips twitching like you’d been zapped as you come down from your highs. 

It’s become near impossible to hold up your own weight, slumping against his large frame as you unclench every pinched muscle and joint. Forehead on his shoulder, you take pleasure in the afterglow, breathing in his scent with your nose pressed into the sliver of skin that reveals past his shirt. Sweat, the earthy odour of clay, and the calm familiarity of him.

“I don’t know what I did to have you acting like this,” he breathes into your ear. “But whatever it is, I need to do it more often.”

Sluggishly, you lift your head to look at him. His head is leaned back on the chair, face glowing as you stare into the eyes you fell in love with so long ago. 

“You haven’t done anything,” you sigh. “It was…stupid.”

“That’s the worst thing you could say to me right now.”

You whine, rolling your neck. “What do you want me to tell you?”

He stares. “Who do I need to thank for creating this monster?”

It was a joke, clearly, but you couldn’t help but feel the little pool of pride swell within you anyway. 

“Salad bowl girl.”

“And I’m supposed to know what that means? Do you want a salad bowl? I can make you one.”

“No. The girl in your class this morning with that god awful salad bowl,” you huff. “It looked offensive, she was too busy burning holes into you.”

“Oh no,” he whispers, eyes wide, mouth turning it the beginnings of a hysterical laugh. “My pretty little wife is jealous.”

“If you’re gonna rub it in, I'm getting off.” You try to remove yourself from his lap, slipping his now soft member out of you. 

You’re stopped when you feel the two points of his elbows locking you at the waist, pushing you down. He’s grinning like a fool. ��You’re sexy when you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry—”

“Your hello was my dick in your mouth.”

“So you didn’t like it?”

“I’d fire myself in the kiln before I ever say that.” He locks his elbows harder, pulling you closer. “Besides, I think this means I’ve won.”

“Won what?”

“Like you’ve never noticed Chan looking at you like…like he’s got some puppy dog crush on you. I’ve won the battle of composure.” 

You guffaw, “What are you—stop it, he does not!”

He merely leans forward and kisses you, “I don’t blame him. My wife is the most gorgeous thing anyone could ever see.” 

Grabbing him by the elbows, you break free of his hold and get off of his lap, attempting to gather the clothes you’ve scattered across the studio. 

“Can you at least help me put my dick back inside my pants, these are my cleaner jeans!”

Snapping the elastic of your bra back on, pantied adjusted, you walk back to him. He’s looking at you with those stupid stars in his eyes and it makes it hard to focus on readjusting his jeans for him. 

Leaning down, you take in your hands his still wet cock, smothered in your spit and arousal, complete with his own release. You can’t help it when you dip further to take his head into your mouth, the groan coming from above you near automatic. 

“Oh, you’re evil.”

You grin as you wrap your mouth in a harsher suck, feeling him harden slowly, still quicker than you’d thought. Giving him a few more generous sucks, you run your tongue over his slit before moving back. 

He’s breathing heavily, leaning close as you pull his waistband up. “You know, they say you should lay down afterwards if you want to be successful. I think we might have to go again later on a real bed to do the trick.”

“You can stay horny, I’m getting dressed for some real food.” 

“I think we kinda need to be horny to do what we’re trying to do,” he lowtones, moving his face back and forth to meet your drifting eyes. 

You sigh once again, “Why can’t just getting off birth control be enough?”

“Are you not having fun?”

“I’m literally buttoning your pants for you, it was fun until now.”

Mingyu raises his hands in both surrender and pointed regard, the clay now dried and cracking over his hands and forearms. “I digress.”

 It annoys you that he’s right, so you lean in to give him a kiss as a distraction. It works. 

“It’s alright,” he smiles into your kiss. “This is the one thing I won’t mind breaking my back for.”

The giggle escapes you before you can help it, and you feel him kiss at your cheeks, placing one last one on the tip of your nose.

“Now, if my lovely wife will let me wash my hands…?”

“Go,” you chuckle.

“We should name our baby Salad Bowl in this honour.” He’s way at the handwash station by now, water running as he scrubs off all the dried up clay.

“So sad our baby will have to grow up without a father.”

 “I love you,” he yells. 

“I’ll be sure to tell our child.” 

“You’re insufferable,” he says, suddenly behind you as you pull on your blouse. Wet hands grasp your waist and you squeal at the feeling. 

“Mingyu!” 

“I love you,” he drags, spinning you around to face him. 

“I thought I was insufferable.”

Your husband groans, simply pulling you into him with his own two hands to kiss you. 

“I think we’re late for our reservation.”

“You’d better hurry then.” You eye his clay speckled shirt.

“Don’t miss me.” He turns around to find his cleaner shirt, all while you drift over to see the incomplete project still on his table.

A mug still clay-brown and half done, but one that looks suspiciously similar to your favourite one you broke last week. 

[alicesivory]

🐇་༘ Welcome to Alice's Haven

This following post will be a quick introduction on this account and it will also be my main masterlist. If you're struggling to find a fic/chapter, just chill in this post and try to find what you're looking for<3.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆ Hello! My name is Alice, I'm a university student who loves to write and it's basically my escape from the real world. I am here to write what I love and to share it to you guys :). Before we get to my main masterlist, I would like to thank you for those who enjoy my writings and posts. Every single like, comment, and reblog are deeply appreciated. In truth, I had a tumblr account last year but it got suspended (I have no idea why) and I couldn't interact with other creators. I would love to be mutuals with anyone and I want to support my fellow creators and writers, so don't hesitate to comment or hmu! (just pls be nice and respect everyone in the community).

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆I mostly write about HOTD and Ewan Mitchell and I'm gonna stay in that fandom in terms of creating fanfiction and writings. If it's not your cup of tea you can kindly scroll away<3. Any negative comment will be automatically deleted and any type of negativity will be blocked from this blog.

Anyways, here's My Main Masterlist:

✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧ House of The Dragon

✩ Aemond Targaryen I was all over her Old Habits Die Hard [chapter 1] [chapter 2] [chapter 3] [chapter 4] [chapter 5] [chapter 6] ✩ Cregan Stark (TBA) ✩ Helaena Targaryen (TBA) ✩ Daeron Targaryen (TBA)

✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧Ewanverse

❀ Billy Washington The moon song ❀ Michael Gavey (TBA) ❀ Ettore (TBA)

If my fics go well and many of you enjoy it, I might open a request box! But for now if anyone would like to request a fic or have any fic ideas that you would like me to write, don't hesitate to hmu/comment(ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡.

That's all for now! Have an amazing day everyone! ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

Love, Alice🌷͙֒

[thought--bubble]

☣Banners & Dividers by: @arcielee ☣

☣Stunning Will Header by @zaldritzosrose ☣

ℍ𝕚!

𝕀'𝕞 𝕁𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕀 𝕨𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕓𝕒𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕠𝕟 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕪𝕖𝕕 𝕓𝕪:

𝔼𝕨𝕒𝕟 𝕄𝕚𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕝

𝕀 𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕒𝕕𝕕 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕓𝕪 𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕤 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕀 𝕠𝕟𝕝𝕪 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝔸𝕖𝕘𝕠𝕟 𝕀𝕀 𝕓𝕪 𝕋𝕠𝕞 𝔾𝕝𝕪𝕟𝕟 ℂ𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕖𝕪.

𝕀'𝕞 𝕚𝕟 𝕞𝕪 20'𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕀 𝕒𝕞 𝕒 𝕓𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕠𝕗 𝕤𝕦𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕘𝕦𝕚𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕒𝕤 𝕒𝕟 𝕖𝕞𝕠 𝕜𝕚𝕕. 𝕀 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕡𝕖𝕠𝕡𝕝𝕖 𝕤𝕠 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕗𝕖𝕖𝕝 𝕤𝕙𝕪 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙 𝕠𝕦𝕥!

𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕞𝕖 𝕠𝕟 𝔸𝕠3 𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕋𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝔹𝕦𝕓𝕓𝕝𝕖99

I will accept requests as long as it is for a character included in my masterlist. (Brief set of rules found here) To see if your request was accepted check the WIP page below. Requests are currently CLOSED

If you want to be added to any of my taglists please see HERE or follow @fics-by-jess for updates

To Browse all fics click Here

For Current Writing Updates Click Here

☣Current WIPS Here☣

All stories are female reader insert. If I decide to do something different, I will put clear notes.

☣Ewanverse Characters.☣

HOTD Aemond Targaryen (Canon Era)

HOTD Aemond Targaryen (Modern)

Trigger Point Billy Washington

High Life Ettore

The Halycon Billy Taylor

The Last Kingdom Osferth

Salad Days Will

Saltburn Michael Gavey

World on Fire Tom Bennett

Grantchester Abraham

☣Miscellaneous Characters☣

HOTD Aegon Targaryen

HOTD Daemon Targaryen

HOTD Hugh Hammer

12 days of Smuffmas 2024 Masterlist

For Fic Recs click HERE

My blogs:

@fics-by-jess (just my stories)

@jess-fics-to-read (Where I reblog stories to read)

@random-fics-of-fun (where I post all non Ewan/hotd content)

Click here to visit the museum of Fine Will Arts

Beautiful Moodboard Gift made for me! 🥰🥰

By the wonderful @vhagar-balerion-meraxes (Luna my love)

[pucksandpower]

Baby Steps

Charles Leclerc x single mother!Reader

Summary: you are barely staying afloat, desperately trying to wrap your mind around your impending motherhood while juggling being a press officer for Scuderia Ferrari … Charles shows you that you don’t have to do it alone

Warnings: pregnancy, family abandonment, and harassment

You grip the edges of the trash can tightly as your stomach lurches again. The half-digested remains of your breakfast spill into the plastic liner with a sickening splatter. Straightening up slowly, you take a few deep breaths and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. The smell rising from the can makes your stomach roll threateningly once more.

Turning away quickly, you lean against the side of the Ferrari motorhome, eyes closed. The sun beats down relentlessly, and you can feel sweat beading at your hairline.

This “morning” sickness is no joke — it seems to strike at all hours of the day. You thought you had gotten away with a quick breakfast break an hour ago when Carlos was in a team briefing, but apparently not.

Footsteps on the gravel make you open your eyes. You pray it’s not a member of the press, or, god forbid, Carlos. The last thing you need is a photo of the Ferrari press officer tossing her cookies behind the paddock. But no, it’s Charles Leclerc striding towards you, his brow furrowed.

You straighten up and attempt nonchalance. “Good morning, Charles.”

He slows, glancing between you and the extremely obvious trash can of vomit. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, yeah, fine,” you say breezily. “Just a bit of food poisoning, I think. Had a questionable chicken salad for dinner yesterday.”

You notice Charles is wearing a soft grey t-shirt and track pants, his hair damp from the shower. He must have just finished with physiotherapy. He looks so effortlessly handsome, it’s frankly unfair. You suddenly feel acutely aware of the sheen of sweat on your face and your limbs heavy with fatigue.

Charles’ face remains creased in concern. “Food poisoning? Have you been to the medical center?”

You wave a hand. “Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably just 24 hours of hell before I’m back to normal.” You attempt a smile, but have to grab the trash can again as the smell from it hits you like a wave.

Charles springs forward and grabs your arm as you retch miserably. “Whoa, take it easy,” he says, supporting you until the heaving subsides.

You stay hunched over, breathing hard. The world is spinning a little. You hear Charles say firmly, “Okay, come with me. Let’s get you sat down.”

He keeps a hand under your arm and leads you into the blessedly cool motorhome. The rich scent of coffee fills the interior, reminding you that you haven’t managed to keep any food down today. You sink gratefully onto a padded bench at one of the tables.

Charles sits opposite you, his green eyes studying you intently. “When did the sickness start?”

You sigh, shoulders slumping. The jig is up. “About four weeks ago,” you mutter.

Understanding dawns on Charles’ face. “Oh. Oh!” His eyes flick down to your still-flat stomach. “So you’re ...”

“Pregnant. Yes.” You drop your head into your hands.

“Well, hey, congratulations,” says Charles gently. “That’s really exciting.”

You huff out something between a sob and a laugh. “Exciting? More like a nightmare!” You run your fingers back through your hair and look desperately at Charles. “You can’t tell anyone, okay? Not even Carlos. I can’t risk anyone finding out about this. If I lose this job ...”

Charles’ brows draw together again. “Why would you lose your job? You’re Carlos’ press officer. I’m sure he’d be thrilled for you.”

You shake your head rapidly. “No, no way. I can’t take time off. The season just started! Carlos needs me, I organize everything for him. The travel, the events, the media, everything!” You bite your lip anxiously. “Maybe … maybe after the baby comes, I can figure something out. But I have to keep this quiet until then. Please.”

Charles reaches over and lays a hand on your arm. His touch is gentle but firm. “Y/N. Working yourself into the ground won’t be good for you or the baby. Have you thought about taking a sabbatical? Just a few months to rest, focus on yourself.”

Panic flares in your chest. “No! No, I can’t.” Your breathing quickens. “You don’t understand — I have no one else. No partner. No family. This job is everything. If I lose it ...” You trail off, trying to blink back the sting of tears.

Charles is silent for a long moment. Then he says, “Okay. I understand this is your decision. And I promise I won’t tell Carlos or anyone else.” He hesitates. “But Y/N, please take care of yourself. Don’t be afraid to ask for help.”

You nod jerkily and avoid his earnest gaze. With a shaky breath, you push yourself to your feet. The motorhome tilts sickeningly for a second.

Charles rises too, watching you with concern. “Will you be alright?”

You nod, not trusting your voice. You start to head deeper into the motorhome, desperate to lie down before the nausea returns.

“Y/N,” Charles calls after you softly. You pause, glancing back. “Congratulations again. You’re going to be a wonderful mother.” He gives you a small, warm smile.

You swallow hard. “Thank you, Charles,” you whisper. Then you turn and continue on unsteadily, one hand braced against the wall.

You make it to the small office that passes for your private quarters on race weekends. Collapsing onto the ergonomic desk chair, you stare up at the ceiling and place a hand over your still-flat belly.

A baby.

Your baby.

Fear and wonder tangle inside you.

You must have dozed off, because the next thing you know a hand is gently shaking your shoulder. You jerk awake to find Carlos standing over you, his eyebrows drawn with concern.

“Y/N? Are you ill?”

You stand up too quickly and immediately regret it as the room spins. Carlos grabs your shoulder to steady you.

“I’m fine,” you say hoarsely. “Just needed a quick nap.”

Carlos frowns, clearly unconvinced. “Charles said you were throwing up outside. That you have food poisoning?”

You make a mental note to kill Charles later. “Uh, yeah. Bad chicken salad, I think. But I’ll be okay.” You attempt a reassuring smile.

Carlos sits down on the edge of your desk, watching you closely. “Why didn’t you tell me you were unwell? You know you don’t have to worry about me, I can look after myself for one day.” His dark brown eyes are filled with worry.

Guilt twists your gut. Carlos has always been extraordinarily kind and thoughtful, a rarity in the high stakes world of Formula 1. You hate lying to him.

“I know,” you say quietly. “I just didn’t want to let you down. But you’re right, I should have said something. I’m sorry.”

Carlos shakes his head immediately. “No, don’t be sorry. Just focus on feeling better, yes? Take tomorrow off too. I order you to rest,” he adds with a small grin.

You smile weakly back. “Okay, boss.”

Carlos stands and gestures to the tiny table bolted to the wall. “I brought you some tea and crackers. Hopefully you can keep it down.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate you checking on me.”

He smiles. “Of course. Feel better, Y/N.” With a last lingering look of concern, he turns and leaves you in peace.

You look at the steaming tea and crackers and feel tears prick your eyes again. Carlos is a good man. Too good, probably, for the pragmatic demands of Formula 1. You know you should tell him about the pregnancy. But the thought of losing your place here, on this team, fills you with dread.

This high stakes world of racing is all you’ve known for the past three years. You can’t imagine life outside the bubble of the paddock, away from the adrenaline and pressure. Away from the team. Away from Carlos. Away from Charles.

With a deep breath, you sit up straight and tear open the crackers. You need to think about this rationally. Maybe Charles is right and you do need to slow down eventually. But for now, for the next few months at least, you have to keep going like nothing has changed.

You place a hand on your stomach as you nibble a cracker. “It’s gonna be okay, little one,” you whisper. “We’ll figure this out.”

***

The smell of coffee turns your stomach these days, but you still make your way blearily to the breakfast buffet each morning. Carlos is an early riser, and you need to be available whenever he is ready to start the day. You scan the offerings, deciding toast is the safest option, and reach for a couple of dry slices.

“Oh, Y/N!”

You turn to see Charles holding out a pre-packaged parfait cup. “I grabbed an extra yogurt by mistake. Do you want it?”

You hesitate. Your first instinct is suspicion — this is the third time this week Charles has “accidentally” had an extra snack to offer you. But the yogurt does look appealing ...

“Sure, thanks,” you say, taking the cup from him. Charles shoots you a smile before grabbing a plate and continuing down the buffet.

You sit down next to Carlos with your toast and yogurt. He glances up from his phone. “Morning. Feeling better today?”

You nod, mouth full. In truth, the nausea has continued, but you’ve gotten better at hiding it from Carlos and powered through.

Charles joins you both a few minutes later, greeted by Carlos with a fist bump. You peel open your yogurt while half-listening to the two men discuss the upcoming practices.

The sweet, fruity parfait is cool and soothing on your sensitive stomach. You find yourself polishing it off in record time. As you scrape the last bit of yogurt from the bottom, you realize Charles is watching you.

“Good?” He asks.

You lick the plastic spoon clean before answering. “Yeah, really hit the spot, thanks.”

Charles’ eyes crinkle with a smile. “No problem. I’ll try to grab two tomorrow.”

You feel your smile grow fixed. This is getting ridiculous. Charles Leclerc does not care this much about your yogurt preferences. He’s up to something.

Over the next week, Charles’ thoughtfulness continues. A cold bottle of water when you’re looking hot and tired. A sandwich from a local bakery when you missed lunch. Your favorite chocolate bar when you mention a craving in passing. Always with an innocent smile, as if he’s not playing Superman to your pretend Lois Lane.

It all comes to a head on race day. You’re in the scorching sun on the grid, already feeling the fatigue of the hectic weekend. Carlos is doing his pre-race routine, so your attention has lapsed. Suddenly a blessedly cold bottle of water appears in front of your face. You look up to see Charles grinning down at you.

“Stay hydrated,” he says with a wink.

That does it. “Okay, enough!” You snap, smacking the water bottle away. It falls to the ground with a thud, water glugging out.

Charles’ eyes go wide with shock. “Y/N?”

Grabbing his arm, you pull Charles several steps away from eavesdropping mechanics. “Why are you doing this?” You hiss. “I don’t need you to baby me!”

“What?” Charles looks completely bewildered. “I’m just trying to help-”

“Well, stop,” you interrupt sharply. The hurt on Charles’ face makes you falter, but you press on. “I don’t need your pity. I’m fine.”

“Pity?” Charles frowns. “It’s not pity, Y/N. I care about you.” He places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You’re always taking care of everyone around you. Now you need someone to take care of you too.”

His kind words hit you like a gut punch. Oh God, the stupid hormones! You feel hot tears spring to your eyes.

Charles’ alarmed expression softens. “Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you ...” He pulls you into a hug. One hand smoothes your hair while the other rubs comforting circles on your back.

“Shh, it’s alright,” he murmurs. You cling to him, embarrassed by your raw emotional response but unable to stop the tears.

After a minute the wave passes. You pull back, wiping your eyes. “Sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Charles smiles kindly. “Nothing is wrong with you. But I understand this is a difficult time.” His expression turns serious. “If you ever need anything, please ask me. I’m here for you.”

Looking up into Charles’ earnest green eyes, you feel a rush of gratitude. Whatever awkwardness lingers between you has evaporated. Charles is a true friend.

You squeeze his hand. “Thank you. That means a lot.” Glancing around, you notice some odd looks from passing crew members. “We should probably get back to work before people think there’s a full-blown soap opera going on over here.”

Charles grins. “Agreed. But this conversation isn’t over. Dinner tonight in my room?” He raises an eyebrow.

You laugh, blinking away the last dampness from your eyes. “It’s a date.”

***

You smooth your hands down your dress as you approach Charles’ hotel suite, suddenly feeling nervous. You’ve been in drivers’ rooms countless times for work, but this feels different. More intimate.

You take a steadying breath and knock. Charles opens the door, looking unfairly handsome in a crisp button down shirt.

“Y/N! Come in.” He steps back to allow you inside.

The suite is spacious and modern, with floor to ceiling windows along one wall looking out over the glittering city. Charles leads you through the living area to a set of glass doors. “I thought we could eat out on the balcony,” he explains, opening the doors with a flourish. “The fresh air will be good for you and baby.”

You step outside and have to stifle a gasp. A small table is elegantly set for two, a vase of flowers in the center. String lights twinkle overhead. “Charles, this is beautiful!”

He looks pleased. “I’m glad you like it.” Pulling out a chair, he gestures for you to sit.

As he takes the seat opposite you, you notice several covered dishes on the table. Charles sees you looking and smiles a bit sheepishly. “I, uh, called my mother earlier.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise. Charles rubs the back of his neck. “I asked her what foods she craved when she was pregnant with me and my brother. So I ordered a bunch of that from room service, in hopes there might be something you’d like.”

A lump forms in your throat. You reach over and squeeze his hand. “Charles, that is so incredibly thoughtful.”

Pink tinges his tanned cheeks. “Of course. I want to take care of you.”

You chat comfortably over food and Charles’ excellent choice of wine for you — sparkling grape juice. He relaxes as you praise the chicken and melon he ordered.

When you sit back contentedly, Charles fixes you with a thoughtful look. “So, do you know how far along you are?”

You hesitate. “About three months now.”

He nods. “And have you been to a doctor yet?”

Your fingers find a groove in the wooden table to trace. “Not yet.” At his surprised look, you add defensively, “I’ve just been so busy with work. But I’m sure everything is fine.”

“Still, you should make an appointment soon. Just to be safe.” Charles’ tone is gentle.

You nod without meeting his eye. An uncomfortable beat passes.

“Do you ...” Charles pauses delicately. “Forgive me, but … do you know who the father is?”

Your cheeks flame. You stand abruptly, walking over to the balcony railing. After a moment Charles joins you, leaning on the rail at your side.

“I’m sorry, that was too personal,” he says quietly.

You shake your head. “It’s okay. I just ...” You glance up at him. “He’s no longer in my life.” You look away, a lump in your throat.

Charles doesn’t ask anything more, just moves closer in a gesture of silent support. You stand together breathing in the night air. The twinkling city sprawls before you. For a moment, the future doesn’t feel quite so frightening.

Eventually you stifle a yawn behind your hand. Charles glances over. “You must be exhausted. I should let you get to bed.”

You smile gratefully. He walks you to the door of the suite. Pausing, you stand on tiptoes and kiss Charles lightly on the cheek. “Thank you again for dinner. For everything.”

His eyes shine as he gazes down at you. “Of course. Sweet dreams, Y/N. And ...” He brushes a feather-light touch over your belly. “Sweet dreams to you too, little one.”

You feel your heart melt just a little. With a last smile, you head down the hall to the elevators. As the doors slide closed, you catch one last glimpse of Charles watching after you.

Back in your smaller, blander room, you change for bed in a happy haze. Sliding between cool sheets, you let out a contented sigh. Tonight was lovely. Charles’ thoughtfulness reminds you there are still good people in the world. For the first time in weeks, you feel a spark of hope.

You drift off to sleep with a hand resting gently on your belly. Everything seems less frightening now that you aren’t alone. Whatever happens next, you and your baby will get through it together.

***

The buzz of the media pen is giving you a headache today. Or maybe that’s just the pregnancy. You blink heavily, trying to focus on Carlos speaking into the microphone in front of you. You hit record on your phone as he answers the first question. It’s your job to capture every word to ensure he’s not misrepresented later.

The reporter’s voice fades in and out. You sway slightly, shaking your head. Just need some fresh air. You take a step away from the crowd, vision blurring at the edges. Dark spots dance across your eyes. The concrete floor rushes up to meet you-

“Y/N!”

Strong hands grab your shoulders, slowing your collapse. Your head spins as you try to make sense of it.

“Y/N, can you hear me?” Charles’ worried face swims into view above you. You part your lips but no words come out.

There’s loud commotion around you now. You feel yourself being shifted, lifted. Snatches of Charles’ voice pierce through the fog.

“She’s pregnant ... get help ... ambulance ...”

You try to cling to consciousness but it’s like grasping at smoke. The world goes dark.

When you resurface, it’s to antiseptic white walls and a steady beeping. Hospital. An IV pulls at your arm as you shift.

“Y/N?” Charles appears at your side, relief breaking across his face. “Thank God. You’re awake.”

Before you can respond, he’s disappeared again, calling for a doctor. You try to push yourself more upright but your limbs feel like lead.

A brisk older woman in a white coat enters, glancing at the monitor beside your bed. “Good to see you awake, Miss Y/L/N. You gave us quite a scare.”

“What happened?” Your voice comes out hoarse.

“You fainted from low blood pressure. A common issue in pregnancy, but yours seems to be more severe.” The doctor flips through your chart with a frown.

Charles stands anxiously at the foot of the bed. “But she’ll be alright now?”

The doctor hesitates. “I’m recommending complete pelvic rest and limited activity for the remainder of the pregnancy. Strictly no standing or walking for prolonged periods.” She pins you with a sharp look. “And if your blood pressure drops again, we’ll have no choice but to put you on full bed rest.”

Your stomach drops through the floor. “What? No, I can’t! I have to keep working, I-”

“Y/N.” Charles’ voice stops your panicked rambling. His face is lined with concern as he takes your hand. “Your health is what matters most.”

The doctor nods briskly. “Precisely. No job is worth risking your or your baby’s safety.” With a final warning look, she departs.

The moment she leaves, you burst into tears. Harsh, gasping sobs wrack your frame. This is a disaster. Without being able to stand or walk for long stretches, you’re useless to the team. You’ll be fired for sure. And then what will you do? You have no one, no other skills-

Warm, strong arms wrap around you as you weep. Charles cradles you against his chest, making low soothing sounds.

“Shh, it’s going to be alright,” he murmurs, stroking your hair. “We’ll figure this out.”

You clutch fistfuls of his shirt, burying your face in the soft cotton. The steady thump of his heartbeat slowly calms your hysteria.

When the tears finally subside, Charles eases you gently back against the pillows. His thumbs brush away the moisture from your cheeks.

“I know you’re scared,” he says quietly. “But I promise, I will do everything I can to help you. We are in this together now.”

His green eyes radiate such sincerity, you feel some of the panic and despair lift. You cling tightly to his hand, anchoring yourself to him like he’s a rock in a stormy sea.

***

You pick listlessly at the greyish meat and mushy vegetables on your hospital dinner tray. At least Charles had the foresight to sneak in some contraband snacks earlier — you polish off the last crumbs of the cookies he brought, wishing futilely for something more appetizing.

A knock at the door precedes Charles peeking in. “Hungry for something better than hospital food?” He holds up a paper takeout bag and shakes it enticingly.

You brighten immediately. “Charles, you’re my hero.”

He laughs and enters, pulling a table over your lap to serve as a makeshift dining surface. Soon plastic containers of pasta, salad, and fresh bread are opened, the savory scents making your mouth water.

Charles watches fondly as you tuck in. “I wasn’t sure what you’d feel up to eating. But who doesn’t like Italian food?”

You make a noise of emphatic agreement through your full mouth. Charles chuckles.

When you finally surface for air, he clears his throat. “So I was thinking ...” Charles busies himself folding and refolding your napkin. “My apartment in Monaco is pretty big for just me. And it has a guest room that’s just sitting empty.”

You raise your eyebrows, waiting for him to go on.

“Well ...” Charles rubs the back of his neck. “I thought maybe when you’re discharged, you could come stay with me for a while. So I can make sure you’re not overexerting yourself.”

You frown slightly. “Oh. That’s really kind, but I’ll be fine once I’m out of here.”

“Will you?” Charles levels you with a knowing look. “No offense, but you’re not exactly the best at asking for help when you need it.”

You open your mouth to protest, but can’t really argue with that.

“Let me do this for you. For my own peace of mind too,” Charles implores gently. He takes your hand, blue eyes full of sincerity. “Please?”

Looking into his earnest face, you feel your weak resistance faltering. Still ... “I don’t want to be a burden,” you mumble half-heartedly.

Charles squeezes your hand. “You could never be. I care about you, Y/N.” His thumb brushes over your knuckles. “I want to take care of you and the baby.”

The warmth in his voice melts away the last of your reluctance. And honestly, the prospect of having Charles doting on you is far preferable to being alone in your small, dreary apartment.

You meet his hopeful gaze. “Okay. If you’re sure you don’t mind, then … I accept your kind offer.”

Charles’ answering smile rivals the sun. “Yeah? Oh, that’s fantastic!” He sweeps you into an enthusiastic but gentle hug. You cling to him, feeling the nervous knot that’s been your constant companion for weeks finally start to loosen. Everything will work out.

That night as Charles is leaving, you call his name softly. He pauses, one hand on the door.

You twist your fingers in the blanket, suddenly shy. “I just wanted to say … thank you. For everything. I’ll find a way to repay you someday, I promise.”

Charles’ expression softens. He comes back and squeezes your hand. “You don’t owe me anything. Just focus on yourself and that little one.” He strokes a finger over your belly. “That’s all the repayment I need.”

With a last smile, he slips out, leaving you to fall asleep with a heart full of gratitude and growing affection for your kind rescuer.

***

You smooth your hands nervously over your dress as you approach Fred Vasseur’s office. This is it. Time to tell your boss that you’ll be leaving him in the lurch smack dab in the middle of the season.

Charles gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “It will be okay. Just explain the situation.”

You take a deep breath and nod. Charles opens the door and gestures for you to enter first.

Fred rises from behind his desk, surprise flickering across his face. “Y/N, Charles. What can I do for you?” His gaze darts between you curiously.

Your mouth goes dry. Charles gently guides you to sit in one of the chairs facing Fred, taking the other himself.

“Y/N has something she needs to discuss with you,” Charles begins calmly. “I’m here for moral support.”

Fred’s eyebrows raise but he nods for you to go on. Your hands twist together in your lap.

“Well, I ...” You have to pause and swallow hard. “I recently learned that I’m pregnant. And I’ve developed some, uh, complications that mean I can’t travel or be on my feet much.”

Fred’s eyebrows climb higher. “I … see. Congratulations?” He still looks perplexed.

Charles jumps in. “What she’s trying to say is, she needs to take a leave of absence. Doctor’s orders.”

“Ah.” Understanding settles on Fred’s face. He turns back to you. “I’m very sorry to hear you’re unwell. Of course health must come first.”

You feel yourself relax slightly. “So I can take a sabbatical? My job will still be here when I’m able to return?”

“Absolutely.” Fred nods. “You’ve been invaluable to our team. Your role will be waiting whenever you’re ready.”

You could cry with relief. “Oh, thank you! That means the world.”

Fred smiles kindly. “Think nothing of it. Focus on your health and that baby. We’ll manage in the meantime.”

Charles reaches over to clasp your hand supportively. “Is there anything else she needs to know before starting her leave?”

Fred considers this. “Y/N will have full pay during sabbatical, of course. And keep me posted on any support you require — medical, household, anything at all.”

You clutch Charles’ hand, too overwhelmed to speak. He smiles. “Very generous. We appreciate that greatly.”

After finalizing a few details, you both stand. Fred comes around the desk to shake your hand. “Best of luck with everything. Let me know if you need absolutely anything.”

You whisper a heartfelt thank you before allowing Charles to guide you out. Safely in the hallway, you turn and fling your arms around him.

“Charles, thank you,” you murmur into his shoulder. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

His strong arms come around you, cradling you close. “Of course, Y/N. I meant what I said — I’ll be by your side every step of the way.”

You cling to each other for a long moment, his steadfast support washing away your lingering fears. As long as Charles is with you, you know everything will work out just fine.

***

You fidget in the generic mint-colored exam room, paper crinkling beneath you as you perch on the edge of the table. Charles sits in a nearby chair, scrolling through his phone, the picture of calm. You wish you shared his zen attitude.

A brisk knock precedes the door swinging open. A smiling older woman enters, glancing down at her chart.

“Y/N? I’m Dr. Boucher, nice to meet you.” Her smile widens as she looks between you and Charles. “And you must be the dad! Wonderful.”

Your mouth drops open to correct her, but Charles beats you to it. “That’s right, thank you,” he says easily, standing to shake the doctor’s hand.

You snap your mouth shut, eyes widening. But the doctor has already moved on, washing her hands at the sink.

“Now then, let’s take a look at this baby, shall we?” She pats the exam table.

You lie back, hiking up your shirt to expose your belly. The cool gel makes you shiver as the doctor smears it over your skin. She places the ultrasound wand low on your abdomen and moves it slowly.

The screen blooms to life, blurred black and white shifting until a shape emerges — a tiny profile, curled arms and legs distinct. You gasp softly. There’s your baby.

Dr. Boucher smiles. “There we are. Looks to be about 16 weeks along. Growing beautifully.”

You can’t tear your eyes away from the screen. Your throat feels tight. After so many weeks of secrecy and fear, this precious little life finally seems real.

“And there’s the heartbeat.” The doctor turns up the volume, and a rapid thumping fills the room. “Nice and strong.”

Tears spill over your cheeks before you can stop them. A glance over shows Charles watching the monitor intently, green eyes shiny with emotion. He reaches for your hand, gripping tightly.

When the appointment ends, you both exit the office in a daze. As you walk down the street to Charles’ car, he turns to you.

“That was … incredible,” he says softly. “Seeing your baby for the first time ...” He trails off, at a loss for words.

You lift his hand and press a kiss to the back, hoping he understands the depth of your gratitude. Charles smiles tenderly in return.

Safely home in Charles’ plush apartment, you curl up together on the sofa with mugs of tea to continue gazing at the ultrasound photos. Charles slips an arm around your shoulders, his thumb idly stroking your arm as you chatter excitedly about preparing a nursery.

This moment, here with Charles, your child’s heartbeat still echoing in your ears … it’s the closest thing to pure joy you’ve ever known. The future finally feels bright with hope. You lean into Charles’ warmth and send up a silent prayer of thanks for this man and the new life he’s given back to you.

***

You curl deeper into the plush couch in Charles’ apartment, cradling your mug of tea. Rain patters against the windows overlooking Monaco’s glittering harbor. The cozy scene makes you feel safe enough to finally open up.

“Charles?”

He glances over from where he’s poking at the fire. “Hmm?”

You twist your fingers together nervously. “There’s more I should tell you. About how I got pregnant.”

Charles rises and comes to sit beside you, face open and attentive. Taking a deep breath, you begin.

“It happened last winter, during the off-season. I went back home to Italy for a while, to the little town outside Milan where my family lives.”

You stare into your tea, remembering. “There was a man vacationing there, from Rome. Dario. We met in a cafe and just … clicked. He was handsome, charming, a perfect gentleman.” Your lips twist wryly. “Or so I thought.”

Charles remains quiet, letting you gather the words.

“We spent every day together for two weeks. Took long walks, went on romantic dinners. When it was time for him to leave, we ...” You trail off, face warming.

“You made love,” Charles supplies gently. You nod, still not meeting his eyes.

“I thought it meant as much to him as to me. But after he went back to Rome, his texts and calls slowly stopped. And then I found out why.”

Your voice drops to a pained whisper. “He was married. His ‘business trip’ was just a chance to fool around. When his wife saw my texts on his phone … it exploded. And then my family found out about the affair.”

Finally you lift your head. Charles’ face is lined with compassion. “They disowned me. Called me a fool and a harlot. It didn’t matter that I was lied to — as far as they’re concerned, I brought shame upon our family.”

Hot tears spill down your cheeks. Charles immediately pulls you into his arms. You cling to him, crying into his shoulder as he rubs your back.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs. “You did nothing wrong. This Dario took advantage of you, and your family should have supported you.”

Charles holds you until the storm of tears passes. When you finally pull back, he cups your face in both hands, brushing away the lingering moisture with his thumbs.

“Thank you for telling me,” he says softly. “I know that wasn’t easy. You’re so incredibly strong.”

Leaning forward, he places a tender kiss on your forehead. Then his palms slide down to cradle your rounded belly.

“I’ve got you now,” Charles murmurs. “Both of you. You’ll never be alone again.”

Nestled in his lap, you close your eyes and just breathe. The remnants of hurt and betrayal wash away, replaced by the safety of Charles’ embrace. Whatever comes next, you have found your sanctuary here, with him.

***

You wander through the apartment looking for Charles, one hand braced on your lower back. Your belly has popped noticeably in the last couple weeks, throwing your balance off.

Not finding Charles in any of the usual spots, you head down the hall towards the spare bedroom. When you push open the door, your jaw drops.

The room has been completely transformed. Bright sunshine spills through the windows onto whitewashed walls. A plush rug covers the hardwood floor. In one corner sits a fully assembled crib, stuffed animals piled inside.

Charles stands back to admire his work, shirtsleeves rolled up and hair adorably mussed. He turns when you gasp softly.

“Y/N! I wanted to surprise you.” His grin falters. “Do you like it?”

“Like it? Charles, I love it!” You blink back happy tears, wandering further inside. Charles’ face lights up.

“I wasn’t sure what color to paint, so I left the walls white for now,” he explains, coming over to slip an arm around you.

You lean into him, gazing around. “It’s perfect. Our baby is so lucky to have you.”

Pink tinges Charles’ cheeks. He kisses the top of your head. “I’m the lucky one.”

You decide on a pale green for the walls. Charles immediately fetches paint supplies, but hovers anxiously as you start rolling color onto the first wall.

“Are you sure you should be doing this?” He eyes your protruding stomach. “The fumes can’t be good ...”

You wave off his concern. “I’ll be fine! Here-” You dip a roller in paint and offer it out. “Make yourself useful instead of worrying.”

Charles accepts the roller reluctantly. Soon you’re both working side by side. Charles takes on the higher parts of the walls that you can’t comfortably reach anymore.

Humming under your breath, you step back to critique your work so far. As you do, your foot catches on the paint tray and you stumble. Charles reaches out to steady you, but not before a fat drop of paint lands on his cheek.

“Oops!” You clap a hand over your mouth, trying not to laugh at the green splotch on his tanned skin.

Charles narrows his eyes in mock indignation. “You think that’s funny, do you?” Before you can react, he flicks his loaded paintbrush at you, spattering your shirt.

You gasp in delighted outrage. “Oh, it is on!” Grabbing your roller, you swipe it down his arm.

Charles lets out a laugh of surprise. Soon paint is flying from both directions. You run around each other, giggling and slipping on the drops coating the floor.

Finally Charles catches you gently by the waist. You’re both absolutely covered in pale green, sides aching from laughter. Your faces are inches apart, smiles fading into something more tender.

Slowly, Charles leans in and presses his lips to yours in the softest, sweetest kiss. You melt against him, hands coming up to cradle his jaw.

When you finally part, Charles rests his forehead against yours. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he confesses, a little breathless.

You smile, heart soaring. “What took you so long?”

His answering grin outshines the sun. There, surrounded by dreams of the future, you share another lingering kiss.

***

You settle back against the mountain of pillows, trying to find a comfortable position for your unwieldy body. At nearly 8 months along now, your belly feels impossibly huge. Luckily Charles’ plush bed offers plenty of space to sprawl.

Speaking of Charles, he appears in the doorway holding a bottle. “Ready for your massage?”

You eye the bottle of oil eagerly. The stretch marks crisscrossing your stomach have been itchy and tight. “Yes please.”

Charles props up pillows behind you so you’re half-reclining. Then he drizzles some of the oil into his palms, warming it up before smoothing his hands over your bump.

You sigh in bliss at his gentle but firm touch. The fragrant oil soothes and softens your irritated skin. Under Charles’ ministrations, the discomfort slowly ebbs away.

His strong hands glide over every inch, easing out the aches and pains. As Charles works, he murmurs to your belly. “There you go, little one. We’re going to make your home nice and cozy.”

Your heart clenches at the tender scene. Even after all these months of living together, it still sometimes hits you how domestic this is. Sharing a home, sharing a bed … it’s everything you secretly longed for but never expected to have. A real family.

You trail your fingers through Charles’ soft waves. His eyes lift to meet yours, soft with affection. The look on his face steals your breath — pure adoration, like you’re the most precious thing in his world.

“I love you.” The words slip out unbidden. Charles’ hands still. For a heartbeat, you’re afraid you’ve said too much.

But then he surges up to capture your lips in a searing kiss. “I love you too,” Charles whispers fiercely when you finally break apart, both panting. “So much.”

He seals his words with another drugging kiss. Your hands clutch him close, heart near bursting with joy.

Suddenly Charles breaks the kiss with a gasp. His wide eyes dart down. “Did you feel that?”

You start to shake your head no, distracted by the sensation of his calloused hands massaging your belly, but then you feel it — a distinct thump against your insides. Your baby shifting and kicking.

Charles’ face lights up. “There it is again!” He laughs in wonder. “The little one is saying hello.”

Happy tears blur your vision. Charles presses a delighted kiss to your stomach. “I can’t wait to meet you,” he whispers tenderly.

Through your tears, you smile at the man you love. The one who gave you and your child a home when you had nothing. However you got here, this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

***

A dull ache starts low in your back as you crawl into bed. You shift and stretch, trying to get comfortable, but can’t seem to. Charles notices your restlessness.

“Alright?” He murmurs sleepily, rolling over to rub your back.

You nod. “Yeah, just some back pain today.” Probably from lugging around this massive belly.

Charles makes soothing noises and continues massaging you until he drifts off. You finally manage to doze too.

Sometime in the night, you jerk awake. The sheets under you are soaked. For one confused moment you think you wet the bed. But then it hits you.

Your water broke.

“Charles!” You shake his shoulder urgently.

He comes awake with a snort. “Huh? What’s wrong?”

“It’s time! The baby-” You break off with a hiss as the first real contraction clenches your belly.

That wakes Charles up fully. “The baby? It’s coming?” He practically falls out of bed, all long limbs flailing.

You have to stifle an inappropriate giggle at his panic. “Yes, so we should-” Your instructions die as Charles sprints from the room. Alright then.

You shake your head in amusement and heave yourself to your feet, one hand braced on your lower back. Waddling slowly after Charles, you find him hyperactively rushing around the living room, tossing items randomly into your hospital bag.

“Okay, let’s go!” He grabs the overflowing bag and dashes out the front door. You stare after him in disbelief then lower yourself carefully onto the couch to wait.

Not thirty seconds later, Charles comes barreling back inside. “Oh God, I forgot you!”

You have to laugh at the panic on his face. “It’s okay. Just breathe.”

Looking marginally calmer, he helps you up, frantically gathering your bag in one hand while keeping the other wrapped around you.

You lean your weight on him during the next contraction, breathing through it. “It’s okay. But we should really go now.”

Charles practically carries you down to the garage and bundles you into his Ferrari in record time. He drives well over the speed limit, one hand clutching yours the whole way.

At the hospital, Charles refuses to leave your side even for a second. He holds the gas and air for you to breathe during contractions, whispering how strong and amazing you are.

When the time comes to push, the pain is unimaginable. You nearly give up, sobbing that you can’t do this. But Charles is there, guiding you through it, telling you that you absolutely can. And with one final scream, your son enters the world.

The shrill cry is the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. Charles cuts the cord with trembling hands. Then the nurse lays your wailing, squirmy son on your chest.

You press kisses to his downy head, tears of joy streaming down your face. Charles gazes at you both with pure reverence.

“His name is Matteo Charles,” you whisper. Charles lets out a choked sob at the middle name.

Too soon, the nurses take Matteo for cleaning and checks. One asks Charles if he’d like to hold him. Charles looks to you questioningly, and you nod through your exhaustion.

Charles settles into a chair, shirtless, and Matteo is laid on his bare chest. Charles strokes a gentle finger over Matteo’s cheek, seemingly enraptured.

“Thank you,” he rasps to you. “For our beautiful boy. Thank you, mon amour.”

This is everything you never knew you needed — a family, a home, and an overflowing love you once thought would forever be lost to you. But you’ve found it now, here in this room, together.

***

The sharp cries jolt you from sleep. With a groan, you roll out of the warm circle of Charles’ arms. Your body still aches and protests as you make your way to the nursery in the dark.

Picking up little Matteo, you carry him to the rocker and situate him at your breast. He latches on eagerly, cries fading to soft snuffles.

Charles appears in the doorway, hair adorably mussed. “Everything okay?” He asks through a yawn.

“We’re good now.” You smile tiredly down at your nursing son. His downy hair and scrunched features are all you — you find yourself thankful that there is barely any indication that his biological father even participated in making him.

Charles comes to perch on the ottoman, watching Matteo. “I can’t believe he’s really here,” he murmurs. “Our son.”

Pride swells in your chest. Charles has fully embraced his role as Matteo’s father, as naturally as breathing.

When Matteo finishes eating, Charles takes him to gently pat his back while you right your nightgown. He kisses your son’s head when Matteo lets out a tiny burp.

Back in bed, you curl into Charles with Matteo nestled safely between you. Charles has a race this weekend, his first since the birth. The thought of him leaving fills you with anxiety.

In the morning, Charles confirms your fears. “I’ll just tell Fred I’m not coming this weekend,” he says casually over breakfast. “The team will manage without me. One of the reserve drivers can take over for a few days.”

Your head jerks up. “What? No, Charles, you have to race.”

“But I don’t want to leave you two!” Charles gestures helplessly to where Matteo snoozes in a bouncer.

You catch Charles’ hand. “This is your dream. Matteo and I will be right here cheering you on when you get back.”

Charles wavers. You soften your voice. “It’s only for a little while. We’ll be okay.”

Finally he nods reluctantly. You know how hard this is for him — but Charles was born to race. You won’t let him give that up.

The morning Charles is set to fly out, he clings to you and Matteo like a second skin. You practically have to peel him off at airport security.

“I’ll be back so soon,” he whispers fiercely. One last kiss, and then he’s gone.

The apartment feels empty and too quiet. But you fill the time singing and playing with Matteo, keeping yourself busy until the race.

You and Matteo cuddle close on the couch to watch Charles zoom around the track. Your heart swells with love and pride seeing your man do what he was meant to.

When Charles wins, he shouts his ecstatic thanks to you and Matteo over the team radio. The podium champagne gets sprayed directly into the camera for you.

Finally Charles is home, sweeping you and Matteo into his arms. “I love you both so much,” he murmurs in wonder. You whisper it right back, nestled safe in the arms of your little family.

***

The energy in the Albert Park paddock is electric as teams prepare for the first race of the 2025 season. You feel a thrill just being back, Matteo cooing happily in your arms. At nearly six months old now, he’s ready for his first race.

Charles bounces on his toes, unable to contain his excitement. “Are you ready to see Papa race, Matteo?” He tickles Matteo’s belly, eliciting bubbly giggles.

You head first to the Ferrari garage, where the mechanics crowd around eagerly to fawn over Matteo. Lewis gives you a careful hug, peering curiously at the baby.

“Lewis, meet Matteo,” Charles says proudly. At Lewis’ questioning look, he adds “My son.” The way he says it brooks no argument.

Lewis’ eyes widen slightly but he just smiles. “Hi Matteo!” He offers a finger for Matteo to grip.

Fred comes over next, cooing over how much Matteo has grown. You enjoy the familial atmosphere, everyone fussing over your boy. Matteo basks in the attention.

Charles takes him down to the front of the garage to watch the crews work on the cars. He points out parts of the sleek machines, explaining them seriously to Matteo as if he understands. Matteo just gazes adoringly up at his Papa.

When Charles finally straps into the car for practice, you have ear muffs ready for Matteo’s sensitive ears. Charles blows kisses to you both before pulling on his helmet. Matteo squeals and waves his little fist as the car roars out.

In the hotel that night, you set Matteo on the bed while Charles showers. Stripped down to his diaper, your son kicks his chubby legs excitedly.

Charles emerges in comfy clothes, his hair still damp, and laughs at Matteo’s antics. “Alright, my little race car driver, time for bed.”

He tickles Matteo’s tummy as he puts on a fresh diaper and snaps up his pajamas. Then Charles cradles Matteo close, humming softly as he sways back and forth to soothe him. Your heart clenches at the tender scene.

Once Matteo is deeply asleep, Charles lays him gently in the travel crib. He turns to you with a soft smile. “I can’t imagine life without him now.”

You slip your arms around Charles from behind. “He loves his Papa so much already. Your biggest fan.”

Charles covers your hands with his, gazing at Matteo. “I’m going to win tomorrow for him.”

And he does. On the podium, Charles looks down to where you cradle Matteo in one arm, and gently showers you with champagne. Matteo’s delighted laughter is the sweetest sound.

This is everything you’ve ever wanted.

***

The energetic buzz of the Italian Grand Prix washes over you as you stroll hand-in-hand with Charles, your son cradled safely in his arms. At nearly a year old now, Matteo is fascinated by the vivid colors and cacophony of sounds surrounding him.

Charles playfully bounces Matteo as you weave through the crowded walkways, pointing out the sights and sounds. “Look Matteo, there’s the cars! Vroom vroom!” Charles mimics the roar of an engine. Matteo’s delighted giggle melts your heart. You can’t help but grin, chest swelling with love and pride for your little family.

You’ve just about reached the looming Ferrari motorhome when an absolutely venomous female voice shrieks out, “You!”

Every muscle in your body instantly tenses. You freeze mid-step, heart lurching into your throat. Whipping your head around, you see an immaculately dressed woman barreling directly towards you, her face mottled an ugly shade of rage-induced crimson.

“You disgusting harlot!” The woman spits with unrestrained fury. “You filthy whore!”

Stunned, you instinctively take a faltering step backwards, nearly stumbling. Charles’ strong arm immediately wraps protectively around you and Matteo, steadying you. His body angles partly in front of yours and Matteo’s smaller form, shielding you both on pure instinct.

The deranged woman continues her tirade, advancing until she’s nearly screaming in your face. “Oh, I know exactly who you are, you reprehensible little homewrecker!”

Before you can even begin to formulate a response, a ghost from your past suddenly materializes behind the enraged woman. A man you hoped to never lay eyes on again.

His eyes blow wide at the sight of you, Charles, and the infant cradled against Charles’ chest.

The woman — his wife, you realize with dawning horror — grabs viciously onto his arm, her razor-sharp nails digging in hard enough to leave crescent-shaped gouges. “Just look at her!” She shrieks, spit flying from her mouth. “Parading that little bastard child around like it’s something to be proud of!” She violently thrusts her finger towards Matteo, still safely ensconced in Charles’ embrace.

Your son, sensing the onslaught of hostile energy, immediately begins wailing in distress. You instinctively reach out to take him from Charles, desperate to comfort your frightened boy. But Charles subtly shifts his stance, moving further out of her reach, as he focuses intently on gently bouncing and shushing Matteo in an attempt to calm him.

Matteo’s biological father simply stares, slack-jawed, at the sobbing infant. The gears visibly turn in his head. “Is that ...” he chokes out, “Is he … mine?”

“No.” Charles’ immediate response is biting and unequivocal. He clutches Matteo tighter to his chest. “Matteo is my son.” Though his voice remains steady, you can see a muscle in his jaw ticking from the effort of holding back more heated words.

But Dario clearly does not accept this response. His eyes narrow calculatingly as he continues scrutinizing the wailing baby. Behind him, his unhinged wife keeps up her tirade of slurs and accusations, whipping the gathering crowd into greater frenzy.

You feel lightheaded, paralyzed. This is a living nightmare. Distantly you are aware of camera phones pointed your way, capturing every wretched moment. Charles seems to realize the same, his handsome face darkening with rage.

With frightening efficiency, Charles strides directly over to the nearest paddock security officers and has a brief, terse exchange. Moments later, two bulky guards firmly take hold of the still-screaming woman and shellshocked man, forcefully escorting them away. The crowd reluctantly disperses, murmuring.

Charles immediately returns to envelope you and Matteo in a fiercely protective embrace. “It’s alright now, you’re both safe,” he soothes, though his rapid heartbeat belies his calm words. Matteo’s panicked sobs have faded to tiny hiccups against Charles’ neck.

The rest of the chaotic day passes in a blur. Much later, in the privacy of your hotel room, Charles reveals that he pulled every string and called in every favor necessary to have Dario and his deranged wife permanently blacklisted from all Formula 1 events.

His voice shakes with quiet rage as he describes how close security came to needing to restrain him physically.

Finally he takes your face so very gently in his hands. “I promise you, I will do anything and everything to protect our family. You and Matteo are my entire world. Nothing will ever hurt you as long as I’m breathing.”

Overwhelmed with gratitude, you collapse against his solid chest. Charles’ strong arms anchor you in place as you cling to him. He continues murmuring fervent assurances, pressing kisses to your hair.

Despite the ugliness of the day, you know with utter certainty Charles will shield you and Matteo from the darkness of your past. Your family is still perfection in your eyes.

***

“Papa, I wanna be a race car driver like you when I grow up!”

Your five-year-old son looks up at Charles with big, adoring eyes as he makes this pronouncement over breakfast one morning.

Charles freezes with his coffee cup halfway to his mouth. He slowly sets it down, gazing at Matteo with surprise and pride. “You do?”

Matteo bobs his curly head eagerly. “Yeah! I wanna drive fast cars and win like you! Can you teach me?”

Charles melts, ruffling Matteo’s hair. “Of course, buddy. We’ll have to convince your maman first though.” He shoots you a meaningful look.

You shift uncertainly. Of course you want to encourage Matteo’s interests, but motorsport is dangerous ...

Charles seems to sense your hesitation. “Why don’t you think about it, mon amour? No need to decide yet.” He winks at Matteo, who grins in excitement.

Over the next few days, your two boys put on a full court press to sway you. Charles points out safety advances in karting and helps Matteo make adorable PowerPoint slides with photos of your son in race helmets. They both unleash heartbreaking puppy dog eyes.

Finally you cave. “Alright!” You laugh, holding up your hands in surrender. “You can start teaching him the basics.”

Matteo and Charles high-five so hard it makes a cracking sound. “Yesss!” Charles pumps his fists while Matteo dances in glee. Seeing their matching enthusiasm melts away the last of your reluctance. Your little daredevil was born for this.

The next weekend, Charles takes Matteo to a racetrack an hour outside the city. It’s just a small circuit, but Matteo gazes around with wide eyes, gripping Charles’ hand tightly.

Charles shows him the karts and safety gear, patiently explaining how everything works. Then it’s time. Charles helps strap Matteo into a kart made for kids, snugging his helmet gently under the chin.

“Ready, mon petit champion?”

Matteo gives him a thumbs up, practically vibrating with excitement. Charles grins and drops the visor down. “Alright! Let’s do this!”

He gives Matteo a little push to get the kart rolling onto the track. Your son quickly gets the hang of working the gas and brakes. Charles jogs alongside, gesturing and calling out instructions.

Gradually he lets Matteo take full control. Your little boy zips around the course, hair blowing out the back of his helmet. His delighted laughter echoes around the circuit.

Watching from the sidelines, Charles records it all on his phone, face alight with joy and pride. “That’s it Matteo, you’re doing amazing!” He cheers.

This is only the beginning. But seeing the utter bliss on both their faces, you know Matteo has chosen the right path. The Leclerc legacy will live on.

***

“I’m here in the pit lane with Charles Leclerc on the momentous day his son, Matteo Leclerc, makes his highly anticipated debut with Scuderia Ferrari. Charles, you must be incredibly proud right now.”

The Sky Sports reporter holds her mic out to Charles as he stands, beaming, in front of the scarlet Ferrari garage. Charles nods, looking slightly choked up.

“Incredibly proud doesn’t even begin to cover it,” he replies earnestly. “This has been Matteo’s dream since he was just a little boy. To see him achieve it, to be standing here watching him drive for the team I devoted my life to … it’s indescribable.”

Charles pauses, glancing over fondly at where you stand with Matteo, straightening your son’s helmet and race suit.

“His mother and I, we’ve worried and experienced every up and down along the way with him. But Matteo has worked so hard for this, never gave up even when it seemed impossible. He more than deserves today.”

The reporter smiles. “And his last name isn’t the only way he takes after you. Matteo is widely considered your protégé after you mentored him through the junior ranks.”

“I taught him everything I could,” Charles acknowledges. “But his talent and dedication are all his own. Matteo is his own man now. I can’t wait to see how high he continues to climb.”

“Any advice you’ve given him before his first race with Ferrari?”

Charles chuckles. “Just to enjoy every second. This only comes around once.” He looks off into the distance, eyes crinkling nostalgically.

“Still seems like yesterday I was in his shoes for my own Ferrari debut. I’ll never forget that feeling.”

The reporter wraps up the interview and Charles makes his way over to where you and 21-year-old Matteo are embracing. Charles’ eyes shine with unshed tears as he clasps arms with his son.

“I’m so proud of you,” Charles says hoarsely. “Your mother and I both. Now go show the world what you can do.”

Matteo’s answering smile is blinding. “I’ll make you proud, Papa.”

He hugs you tight, then pulls on his helmet and strides confidently to his waiting Ferrari. The mechanics cheer as the car roars to life and Matteo peels out onto the track, on the cusp of achieving his lifelong dream.

You cling to Charles’ side, waving tearfully. “Our little boy,” you whisper in awe.

Charles wraps an arm around you, never taking his eyes off the bright red car. “He’s all grown up. But he’ll always be our son.”

No matter how high Matteo climbs, Charles knows he will always remain his sweet little boy — the bright-eyed child you and Charles raised with love.

His greatest source of pride and joy as the future beckons brightly, another generation of Leclercs carrying the hopes of Ferrari forward.

[ewanmitchellconnoisseur]

Mɪᴛᴄʜᴇʟʟ Esᴛᴀᴛᴇs (2) "Bɪᴛᴛᴇʀ"

EwanMitchell Verse x F!Reader & Will x Reader

A/N: Dedicated to the anon who sent me some kind words! Hopefully this isnt horrible 😭 //Dividers by@firefly-graphics

Summary: You settle into you new home pretty well. After a week you've seen all the tenants and eve learned some of their weird habits. After a late night walk you happen to come accross someone in a moment of vulnerability.

TW: 18+, smut, masturbation, protected sex (wrap it before you tap it...sometimes), p in v, rough, soft to rough sex, dry humping, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 4k

Masterlist • ← Previous Chapter • Next Chapter → (WIP)

A week has gone by since you moved in.

Surprisingly it was a pretty calm week. Your friends dropped off the furniture that they found for your apartment. Since you didn't have any classes you painted the walls, giving the place more color and personality.

You hadn't gotten the chance to talk to anyone in the building really but you spent a good amount of time peering out your window and seeing all the different tenants and their habits.

You noticed that there was this boy about your age who spent most of his time hanging around the mailbox. You thought it was odd at first but then on a different day, you saw him sneakily stop and examine someone else's package. He only ran off and didn't take it because that tenant opened their door.

You also saw him further in town the other day. He was dressed up as a monk and holding a red-painted pail. He was "collecting" money for children for the holidays. It was only later on when you saw him come home did you see him return with that same pail of money.

Mental note. There is a thief here.

Ettore was still cold and rarely talked to you. When you dropped off the rental agreement, he quickly kicked you out of his office and closed the blinds. You thought maybe he just wasn't good with people but he started giving you a weird creepy vibe when you saw him watch the other tenants.

He would stand around the building looking as if he was just checking on things but he was observing and watching. You once caught him watching you as you were talking the trash out and there was that one time when you were doing laundry and you swear you saw him up near your unit.

Your next-door neighbour, the horse tattoo guy, never left his apartment. You start to think he's dead in there but then you hear the occasional TV sounds and shower running. You did see him leave once but that was only to go get beer and then come back home. You've also heard him arguing on the phone with someone though you can never make out what the conversation is about and who he is talking to.

But. The strangest tenant out of all of them. He is a long white-haired guy who has a long scar over one of his eyes. He only comes about twice a week. He comes, walks his dog, stays for one night then leaves the next day and is gone. Three days later he comes back and repeats the same cycle. You were sitting in the neat park when his dog came up to you one day. She was the most friendly thing ever and wanted to play. He didn't say anything but let you play with her until you had to leave. When you tried to say goodbye he answered with "mmm" and that was it.

Everyone else seems to be normal except those guys. There was a boy with glasses and khaki shorts. He looked like he was going to school every day so you only assumed he was attending the university nearby, same as you. The boy with the kid, you did find out that was his brother when you helped the kid after he tripped while riding a scooter. The kid was Liam and he lived with his older brother Jack.

You hadn't gotten to interact much with others but it felt nice that you had met at least one person who lived here.

Your phone alarm went off letting you know it was time to get up. It was the last thing you wanted to do but if you didn't know you never would.

After a shower and getting dressed you grabbed your stuff and headed out the door. You looked around and saw Liam heading for school, he waved at you and you waved back.

You struggled to lock your door but kept trying. The key wouldn't turn.

"It's jammed." You looked over and saw the horse guy standing there with a beer in his hand.

"How do I get it fixed?" He eyes you up and down before taking another swig.

"Jack. Lives in A1. He's maintenance." He spits off the rail and then heads back inside his apartment.

You groan and start heading towards the apartment. You had hoped to avoid any interactions with your neighbors today but it doesn't seem like that will be happening.

You knock on the door but no one answers. You knock again and a minute later the door opens.

"Yeah?" He rubs his eyes and leans against the doorframe and now you feel like shit cause you woke him up.

"Sorry...the lock is jammed. Just wondering if I could get some help." He yawned as he nodded his head.

"Yeah, hold on." He closed the door and you stood outside it awkwardly waiting for him to return. As you stand outside his door waiting, the person next door comes out of their unit and locks the door.

You try not to stare but you kind of do...and you're not good at hiding it. He stops and pulls out a cigarette box putting one in between his lips before offering you one.

"No thanks. Don't smoke." He shrugs his shoulders, putting the box back in his pocket before lighting the one in his mouth.

"Suit yourself, princess." He winks then walks away. You stand there for another minute before Jack opens back up his door now properly dressed and carrying a toolbox.

He follows you in silence towards your door. You drop your bag on the ground and stand off to the side as he tries to open it himself.

"...Your brother's a nice kid." He smiles as you mention his brother.

"You've met him?"

"Yeah. Was out for a walk when he tripped on his scooter. Helped him out." He turns his head and looks at you.

"Oh! You're the girl he was talking about." He turns back to the door and pulls out the key and stares at it before frowning.

"What's wrong?" You step over to him to look. You see the key with something pink and sticky on it.

"Gum. Someone put gum in your lock." He shakes his head and opens up the toolbox. "I'll just replace the lock. Might take a while."

"I have a class to get to...could I come to get the key later?" You pick up your bag.

“Yeah all good.” You turn and leave heading back down the stairs and walking out of the complex. 

After a boring couple of hours of listening to professors and taking notes, you and your classmates decide to head to the library. Planning to study but realistically you are all going to end up talking for hours and doing no work. 

As you all gossip about some campus drama going on you notice someone walking around looking at books. You try to get a better look from your spot and then you recognize him. His name was Osferth and lived on the other side of you in B4. He was super sweet and had helped you with your groceries one time. 

As he grabs a book and walks out the aisle he spots you and gives you a warm smile and a wave. You smile and wave back and can see him blush slightly before he heads towards the front desk. 

“Who was that?” Boyse bumps your shoulder while wiggling her eyebrows. 

“My neighbour.” She hums in response. 

“Cute.” You give her that look that only she tends to ever bring out. Boyse had been trying to convince you for some time now to get back into the dating scene but you couldn’t not after…last time. 

Just like you predicted you all spent the next hour showing each other funny Tik Tok and talking. Being the friend with the car you drove everyone to their homes before heading to yours. 

You stopped at Jack’s to get the key. He was on the phone and quickly handed it to you with a smile before closing the door. You could hear him arguing on the phone. You turn and head towards the stairs to get up to your unit. You look over to the office building and can see Ettore there watching you before he closes the blinds.

Why the fuck he so weird?

You spend the rest of the day making up for the work you didn’t do in the library and attempting to tune out the horse guy arguing again on the phone. 

After spending hours working on essays and group projects you were tired, you had tried going to sleep but for some reason, you just couldn’t. The sheets felt too rough, the bed too lumpy, the room was too hot and it was just too quiet. Everything was bothering you. And above all your brain just wouldn’t shut up. 

You rip the sheets off of you in anger and stand up grabbing your keys off your dresser before leaving your room.

You used to go one walk a lot back home since there was a nice park just behind your old apartment. It was always calming whenever you had a stressful day or...an argument with him.

You pull on your shoes and grab the sweater you threw on the couch to take with you in case it was cold outside.

Locking the door behind you while looking around you spot the white-haired man walking back into his apartment with his dog. You can see the light in the office on but the blinds are closed.

Your brain now full of thoughts of your ex

You walk down the stairs while zipping up your sweater and walk towards the liquor store nearby. You start drinking the second you step out of the store then you head towards the twenty-four-hour convenience store just down the street from your apartment complex.

You purchase your favourite chocolate bar and a drink before walking around your neighbourhood. It was surprisingly empty, nobody was walking around, and barely any cars driving around. The most noise you can hear are dogs barking or the occasional voices or tv noise from houses you pass by. By the end of the walk, you've finished your snacks and alcohol and it's even starting to set in.

The colours from the houses are the tiniest brighter. Your thoughts clear of your asshole of an ex and the whole reason you had to move in the first place. The noises of crickets are louder and whatever lamp lights are almost blinding.

You circle back to the building using the path that leads out from the neighbourhood to the back near the recycling bins. You come around the corner, the area is only covered by a small lamp thats on the wall.

As you turn around you hear a sound. You stop walking and look towards the noise. It's coming around from the recycling bins.

You at first think it's an animal inside looking for something to eat. Something is panting. Your brain under the influence tells you to walk closer and look rather than just turn and walk the other way around the building.

You walk over to the recycling and slowly peer around.

It's not until you turn and look do you hear the moan come from someone's lips. When you finally get a proper look you scream slightly and quickly cover your eyes before turning around.

"Shit." you hear him mumble before he turns and faces the wall.

You try to get the image out of your head but it's engraved in there. Whoever it was had been leaning against the wall, his head angled up and eyes closed as he was lazily stroking himself. Though most of his penis had been inside of his pants you still saw some of it.

"Y'alright?" He finally turns back around after he tucked himself back in his pants. You keep your face covered as you simply nod your head. "It's away now. You can look."

You waringly uncover your eyes and look at him.

"Ever thought of doing that in your own apartment." You cross your arms slightly annoyed. Your eyes wander to the ground and see the empty bottles of alcohol.

"Wasn't expecting someone to be up and about at this hour." He shrugs and leans down shakingly as he grabs one of the cans and brings it to his lips. "What are ya doin' up anyways?"

"Clearing my head." Your words were slurred the tiniest bit as you spoke. He looks you up and down as you throw the garbage into the bins next to him.

He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly as you both kind of just stand there in silence.

"...W

ant a cuppa?" He picks up his trash almost falling over as he bends down.

"Cup of what?" you hear him laugh as he throws the empty bottles away.

"A cuppa..." He looks over to you, he can still see the confused look on your face as you simply stare at him. "Cup of tea."

"Ohhh" You stare at him for a while gauging if you should say yes or not. He looks normal enough. But most serial killers looked like normal people then turned out to be psychos behind closed doors. For all you knew he was luring you into his apartment to steal your kidney and sell it on the black market.

"You don't have to say yes. I just feel bad about...what you had to see" You stare at him for a while longer.

"Why not." You shrug then follow him back around the building towards his unit. The second you're back inside you look around the space. You could tell this was one of the old motel rooms that hadn't been renovated yet. "How long you been living here?"

He walks over to the kitchen area and fills up the kettle.

"About 4 months." You walk over to the couch stumbling a bit. You notice the lack of any decorations on the walls. "Do you normally just walk around at night drinking?" You look over at him. He was watching you stumble around with a smirk on his face.

You struggle to take off your sweater, your arm getting caught on absolutely nothing.

"It's a great past time." He laughs and then turns back to getting cups from the cupboards. "Do you normally jerk off next to recycling bins in public?" You can see the smile on his face grow wider and his cheeks flush red.

He turns back around.

"So what made you move here of all places? There had to have been better options." He leans against the counter crossing his arms.

"Other places would have taken longer. More checks are needed. This place was quick and easy." You shrug.

"Quick and easy? Why the rush?" He puts the tea bags in the cups. You watch him for a moment thinking if you should say. You hadn't even really come clean to your friends about why you had to move so quickly. You weren't in the mood to hear their "I told you so's.".

"My ex was a piece of shit. He lived with me in my apartment and I knew he wouldn't go so I did." You pull your legs on the couch. "Left in the middle of the day while he was at work." He nods his head in understanding.

You hear the kettle whistle and watch as he pours the water in the mugs.

"What about you?" He walks over and sits down on the couch handing you one mug and placing the other down on the coffee table.

"Not running from anything...just preventing the inevitable for a while longer. Enjoying what I can." You try to understand what he could mean by that. He notices the confusion on your face. "There was this girl, a school friend. I really liked her but she was dating my best friend."

Though you yourself had never dealt with anything like that some of your friends had. It's never easy to watch someone love another but know they can't be with them.

He blows on his tea before taking a sip.

"I knew I shouldn't like her and that it was possible nothing would come from it but...I just couldn't help but not like her."

You watch as his gaze fixes somewhere random the memory taking over. You grab your tea and take a sip burning your tongue but playing it off.

"We hooked up one, while she was still with him. Afterwards, she said it wouldn't happen again." He leans back into the couch. "The worst part is that not too long before I left I found out she was pregnant. Didn't get the chance to ask her if it was mine or not."

He takes another sip before looking into his cup.

"I'm gonna need something stronger than tea." He stands up and puts the cup on the counter before grabbing two shot glasses and a bottle of vodka and walking back over to the couch.

"Why did you leave?" He sits down and pours the shots.

"I only ever really stayed 'cause I was caring for my nan. She passed...made plans to leave but those plans went south. Now im just...waiting I guess."

He took a shot then poured himself another and took it. You reached forward picked up the other one and downed it, the sting and bitter taste made your face scrunch.

You both sat there and drank for almost an hour. At this point, you both had managed to finish the rest of the vodka. Your conversations bounced around from different topics. At one point you were talking about your favourite colours and then the best place to get pizza in town. You talked about fun stuff then talked a bit about depressing stuff before cracking more jokes.

You were lying on the couch while Will was lying on the floor.

"Ok, but you have to admit apple juice is better than orange juice." You both had been going back and forth about white was better. He was adamant that orange juice was the best of the two. (Apple juice is better don't argue with me 🤣)

"You can get orange juice faster than apple juice. Not to mention it tastes fresher." You rolled your eyes.

"Yeah, but...pulp. And that nasty taste when you brush your teeth and then drink orange juice." Will sits up with a smile, you turn your head to look at him.

"I like that taste." A look of disgust spreads on your face before you both start dying of laughter. Once you both have calmed down Will rests his head against the couch looking at you.

You both narrow your eyes at each other just staring before he reaches upwards and brushes a piece of hair out of your face. His hand lingers as he gently brushes over your cheek.

Before you can do anything he sits up more and leans over to you kissing you deeply. It's messy considering your broth is drunk out of your minds.

He moves up onto the couch getting on top of you. His hands slide down to your waist as he lifts and spreads your legs slightly so he nestles in between them. You wrap your legs around his waist.

He lets you breathe for a moment lowering his head in the crook of your neck planting soft kisses.

Considering you had gotten out of bed to go for a walk you were only wearing a tank top with no bra.

His hands slid up as gently massaged your nipples in between his fingers. You could feel his hard-on pressing right against your clit.

He could clearly feel the friction to as he began rolling his hips chasing some sort of friction.

He starts pulling your tank up slowly kissing his way up your stomach. You lean up so you can slip over your head as you lay back down he takes one of your nipples into his mouth gently sucking on it. He runs his thumb over the other watching it harden under the soft pressure. He lets go of your nipple with a pop and moves over to the other giving it the same attention.

He sits up, you help him take off his shirt before you both shuffle off your pants. You lean over to where you had earlier discarded your sweater reach for your wallet and take your "emergency" condom out. You unwrap it and slowly slide it on him.

Will lays you back down and kisses your cheek.

"Lift your hips." You do as he says and almost moan at the feeling of his tip grazing your clit ever so softly. Will slowly sheathes himself inside of you while peppering kisses all over your chest.

When he finally bottoms out you both moan. His movements are soft and slow at first, dragging himself in and out of you so you can feel every ridge and pulse.

Will sits up and holds on to your hips as he slams into you at a rough and relentless pace. He dips down taking your mouth in his. As he hits that soft spot inside you harshly you moan into the kiss, your moans get louder as he continues to bully the same spot.

He reaches down and brings your legs up as far as they can go trying to get as deep as possible. You reach down circling your clit trying to relieve some of the aches. Your pussy spasms around him pulling him in deeper.

"Fuck- just like that." Will watches as you lean your head back, mouth agape as you moan and whimper.

It all becomes too much as you cum around his cock. Will holds you down as you shake slightly kissing your cheek as he doesn't slow down the pace chasing his own high. Your nails dig into his sides as he his movements begin stuttering, losing rhythm.

Will moans as he continues pounding into you before he lets go of your legs and holds himself up as he cums into the condom.

"Fuck Leah" You almost miss him saying it. But you shrug it off it's not as if he's yours. Will slowly slides out of you with a soft moan before laying down beside you on the couch and pulling you back into him.

He nuzzles into your neck as you both slowly fall asleep.

You hear the annoying honking of the garbage truck and slowly sit up grabbing your head in pain. You clearly drank more than you could handle.

You look around and notice that this is in fact not your apartment.

Hearing the soft snoring behind you, you turn around and see who it is. As you see Will still sleeping soundly you gently unwrap his arm from your waist and grab your clothes. You get dressed as quietly as possible before grabbing and leaving his apartment and doing the walk of shame back to yours.

The second you're back home you head to the shower feeling relaxed under the warm water. You change into fresh clothes and take an Advil for your pounding headache.

You grab your wallet from your sweater and look through it. You notice the missing condom.

"At least I wasn't dumb enough to go raw." You crash onto your bed planning to just skip all your classes and get some well-deserved rest.

You don't notice the stuff in your apartment that's misplaced. How your closet is open when you know you closed it before you left. One thing is for sure between your headache and the sound of the garbage truck still near by you don't hear the sound of footsteps leaving your apartment and silently closing the door behind them.

A/N: This took WAAAAYYY longer than it should have. I had it all typed up but then I also had two draft tabs opened...when I saved one and closed it the other was still open and since it does auto saves it got rid of all the new stuff i wrote 😭😭

But it still got done!! Hopefully, this isn't as bad as I feel like it is.

General Taglist: @thought--bubble @valeskafics Mitchell Apartments: @slytherincursebreaker, @watercolorskyy, @dixie-elocin, @venmondiese, @briefcollectivepersona,@fan-goddess, @australia-made-1997

[minkieater]

twin cowboys ⇄ yungi ʚɞ song mingi x f!reader x jeong yunho your sorority chose to spend spring break in nashville this year and you couldn’t wait to finally go out to bars with your sisters. it was your second night out on the broadway strip and the only thing on your mind was having a good time – who are mingi and yunho to stop you?

w. smut 18+ minors dni porn with a lil' plot, dom/sub dynamics wc. ~9k

spring break for you and your sorority was a big deal.

for the last three years you’d traveled with the group of girls to new orleans, new york, las vegas, all places with incredible nightlife and a vast amount of things to do whether you’re of age or not. the older sisters always went to bars and clubs, leaving the underage sisters to their own devices in a new city, but someone always knew someone, there was never a shortage of something to do. 

this is your first year of being able to go out to places you could legally drink at and you were overflowing with excitement at where was chosen in the famous yearly salad bowl draw. every year you and your sisters would sit in the living room, your cutest and comfiest pajamas on and the entire sorority would get a partner and make a powerpoint presentation of where they wanted to travel to for spring break, including everything you could do in that city. at the end of all the presentations, you’d put all the cities in a bowl, and the president of the sorority would choose where you’d go.

this year the name that was drawn was nashville, tennessee. 

the bowl draw was smart, every year you had a complete guide already made up, the only work to be done was figuring out where to stay and getting tickets on the same flight. the vice president always figured out the rest, an unspoken job that was passed down year to year. 

this year you were staying in an adorable airbnb, decorated in pink, little sayings and picturesque opportunities covering the walls. it was massive, it had rooms for each of you, including a living space and a kitchen. if you needed to you didn’t have to leave, the place was enough for an instagram post — perfect for the underage sisters. 

it was your second night going out on the broadway strip and you were still hungover from the night before. you get ready with a redbull in hand, chasing your shots with it, using it to power through the stomachache and energize you for another night of too much alcohol. your sisters felt the same, despite the loud music flowing through the space of the home there was an underlying trudge between the sixteen of you. 

you did your makeup before you could feel the buzz that was flowing through your veins form into a flat out drunk, leaving you to only choose your outfit. you had packed very specifically for the short four days you’d spend in nashville, a leather mini skirt, leather top and of course, leather cowboy boots was already laid out for you as your night two outfit. 

your sisters were dressed the same, tassels and cowboy boots were on everybody in the house, that’s how you dressed for nashville, it was on every woman in the city between the ages of twenty and fifty. you’d all gotten ready in the middle of the day, most of you just waking up from a drunken sleep to shower and do it all over again. 

before you left the house you shoved a couple of crackers down your throat, something to soak up the alcohol so you didn’t throw up high noons all over the pink airbnb when you got home tonight. you’d walked up and down the strip a few times already the night before, checking out every bar on the sloped street that way you had a better idea of where you’d spend your night tonight. 

as you left the airbnb your first stop was kid rock’s honkey tonk, a building consisting of five stories that had a different band playing on each one. you’d made it through all five stories, stopping for a drink at each of the six bars, spending more than enough time in the crowd before the band. 

it was getting later, the sun had far past gone down, you and your sisters decided to go to where you’d spend most of your night tonight. luke bryan’s bar, 32 bridge, was connected to jason aldean’s rooftop bar, two places that you could slip back and forth from by just going to the top floor. the night before you’d loved it there, with country music playing earlier in the night shifting to more typical techno and rap music as you got closer to the nightlife crowd entering the bar. 

you were standing on the stage, the lights glowing a dim, cool blue, a massive crowd beyond the stage. you and three of your sisters were dancing along to a random country song, kicking your feet and swaying your arms in the air as if you were holding a lasso. you paid no mind to the crowd beyond you who was watching, eyeing you up from below. you were having fun with your sisters, all three of you giggling onstage, eyes half lidded in a drunken haze. 

the song ended and you realized your drink was empty, you motioned to the bar to let your sisters know you were going for a refill, leaving you to fight the dense crowd on your own. you stuck to the outskirts, weaving through random people and groups of girls just like you jumping and dancing to the music, trying your best to head straight to the bar. 

you sighed when you noticed the three layered crowd surrounding the entirety of the bar, knowing you’d be waiting here for a while to get close enough to even be noticed by the bartender. this was everywhere, every bar, nothing you hadn’t already experienced in the 36 hours you’d been here. 

“what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” your neck snapped to the corny pick up line coming from a raspy, poor accented voice, having to crane your head upward to see the face the voice was connected to. he was smiling, humor laced in his tone, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the attempt. 

“never heard that one before,” you laughed it off as he tipped his cowboy hat in your direction, obviously putting on a southern front when there was no way this man had ever stepped foot in the south.

“was it convincing?” he kept up with the fake accent and instead of cringing you giggled again, covering your mouth with the hand that wasn’t holding your drink. 

“somewhat,” you shrugged your shoulders, a blush creeping on your cheeks when you really looked at him. dark, black hair if it wasn’t the deepest brown hair you’d ever seen curling around the edges of his cowboy hat, a lean but muscular build, you could see his forearms flex under the folds on his western themed button up as he drank from his beer. deep, inviting dark eyes, full lips and a sloped nose. he was sturdy, definitely your type, tall and husky and strong. 

“i’ll take that as a win, doll,” he smirked, dropping the accent as the corner of his mouth lifted into a lopsided smile, “who are you here with?” 

“my sorority,” you turned to point to the stage, the remaining two of your sisters dancing with one another for the crowd. that was one way to let you keep an eye on them. 

“no way, i’m here with my frat,” his eyes were wide in surprise, “did we all have the same idea for spring break?” 

“seems like it,” you used your hand to refer to the crowd surrounding you, it seemed like there was no one present that was above the age of twenty five. “have you ever been here before?” 

he shook his head, “nah, the president’s birthday was yesterday so we’re here to celebrate him and spring break.” 

you nodded then decided to introduce yourself, wanting so badly to learn the cowboy’s name, encouraging the conversation to keep flowing so he’d stick around for awhile. 

“mingi,” he tipped his hat again with that pitiful accent, “pleasure to meet you, doll.” 

the blush returned to your cheeks, a weak resolve when his pick up lines were not up to par. you finally got up to the bar, a space left open when the person in front of you had gotten their drink, and you waited with elbows on the gloss finished wood for the bartender to come around to you. 

“did you need another beer?” you asked mingi who stood behind you, grateful he hadn’t left. he shook the bottle of beer to feel how much of it was actually left, and gave you a nod. 

he reached into his pocket and passed you his card, “a drink for you and me.” 

“we just met, i can totally get my own drink, don’t worry about it,” you pushed his card back to his chest and his smile returned, showing his lopsided teeth that matched his endearing look. 

“let me show you a little southern hospitality, you can get the next one if you’d like,” he was giggling as he spoke, barely getting the words out because he knew he was keeping the act up for too long, it was too entertaining to stop, plus it seemed like it was actually working. 

the bartender came around quickly without giving you time to respond, you ordered drinks for the both of you while tapping the corner of his card on the bar. the bartender quickly returned with your drinks and you traded them for mingi’s card, waiting for their swift return so you could sign off on the transaction. 

“wanna dance?” he asked as you turned around, handing his beer to him. 

“only if you promise to cut the accent.” he laughed at that and nodded, walking towards the crowd of people. 

he guided you slowly, inching towards the center of people, wanting to get to the more dense area of the crowd. he seemed to have found his friends, waving to three people who were shorter than him, all wearing cowboy hats and western attire themselves. they were all hot, you needed to find out where he went to school.

he turned back to you and started dancing, a sway to his hips matching that of the cowboy boots on his feet, swinging back and forth in front of you, encouraging you to match his rhythm. you agreed, your body naturally reacting to the flow of the music and the movement of his body, bodies quickly getting closer. it was like his hips were magnetic, the way they pulled you closer to him, closing the space between you. 

your chest came up to just before his pecs, your head tilted up to get a view of his face, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. the songs switched, the next one a hit that everyone in the building knew, a famous song across the entire country. 

well i walk into the room, passing out hundred dollar bills…

you squealed in excitement, jumping a little bit because you know this one. you immediately started singing along, taking control of the dance this time, making mingi move to a flow of your own. 

cause i saddle up my horse, and i ride into the city…

his empty hand reached for your hips, keeping you flush to himself, singing along with you as he stared down at you, between you. you sipped your drink as your legs moved between his own, somehow getting even closer, welcoming every huge inch of him pressed to you. 

riding up and down broadway, on my old stud leroy…

an idea popped into your foggy head, a clever one, one you were sure would get the man to finally close the distance. you reached up to his cowboy hat and quickly took it off his head, placing it on your own as the words save a horse, ride a cowboy pumped through the speakers of the club and out of your mouth. 

his sweet smile turned devilish before he moved his lips closer to your ear, “doll, do you even know what you just did?” 

you laughed, your head falling backwards in a drunken haze, eyes fluttering shut as you held his hat tight on your head with your hand. 

you were oblivious to the old saying, the unspoken rule that if you take off a cowboy’s hat, it’s an invitation to take off other things, too.  

his hand tightened around your hip, snapping you out of your giggles and swiftly moved his hand up to your chin, fingers pinching the skin to connect his lips to yours. you allowed it, you welcomed it, your too hot body immediately leaned into his touch. 

your free hand moved up to cup his cheek, moving your lips with his, biting the skin of his bottom lip. he gasped and you used the opportunity to slip your tongue in his mouth, tangling with his own. your bodies kept swaying, moving, dancing as your tongues tangled, bodies involuntarily moving to the music and to each other. 

your back arched into him, pulling away so you could switch your angle, connecting your lips to his again. it was deepening, too hot to be in the middle of a crowded bar. you heard cheers from behind him that you could only assume were his friends, making you smile into the kiss, inevitably breaking the trance the two of you had subconsciously entered. 

you giggled as you peered around his shoulder at the shorter guys who were cheering and clapping, rooting for their friend in the middle of the dance floor. there was a blush to mingi’s cheeks as he told his friends to shut up, then turned back to bring his lips to your own again in a short peck. 

“ignore them!” he yelled as he pulled back, getting into the groove of dancing along to the next song. 

“it was cute,” you replied, taking his hat off of your head and standing up on your tippy toes to put it back on his head. 

“gotta pee! i’ll be back,” you told him, the seal you had broken an hour ago was on overdrive, now your bathroom breaks were getting closer together. he pulled you flush to him in another of slew of open mouthed kisses before he let you go, sending you off with a quick tap to your ass. 

you maneuvered through the crowd again, much more dense this time before you finally made it to the sparse areas, head turning left and right in search for the bathroom. you spotted it and made it there quickly, resetting your bladder to another countdown before you were off for the crowd again. 

as you left the bathroom in a rush, eager to get back to mingi, you slammed face first into something similar to a brick wall. 

you jumped back a step, apologies flooding out of your lips, craning your neck to look up to the kindest eyes you’ve ever seen looking back down at you. 

“you’re good, don’t worry,” he waved his hand with a tight lipped smile, bringing the same hand up to adjust the hat that was atop his rich, chestnut hair. 

“did i spill your beer? i can get you another one,” you offer, hands wiping at the damp spots in his button down, strong abdomen underneath. it was similar to the one mingi wore, identical to the one his friends’ shirts, your drunk mind was too foggy to notice the correlation. 

he shook his bottle and his lips tightened with his eyebrows raised and a tilt to his head, “i could use another beer, actually.” 

you smiled, grateful he was allowing you to pay back the inconvenience you caused him, quickly guiding him over to the bar again. you got yourself another drink and another beer for him, the crowd around the bar was two layers less compared to your last stop here. 

“thank ya, little lady,” he smiled again, patting your head with his long fingers. you were weak in the knees, he was huge, taller than mingi but more lanky. his arms were thinner, thighs less full yet he also looked so strong… where have all of these men been hiding? 

“we’re even now…?” you asked for his name without asking for it, your sentence trailing along, soliciting the information from him. 

“yunho,” he finished for you, those kind eyes smiling down at you once more. you introduce yourself back with a smile, and he shook your hand much to your surprise. such a mature gesture from a seemingly college boy…it was somehow expected from his character that bled through his features. 

“i wouldn’t say we’re even yet, little lady,” yunho interrupted your train of thought, picking your hand up that was glued to your side, “you owe me a dance and then we’ll be even, scout’s honor.” 

he held up three fingers and you laughed, nodding so he’d put down his damn hand that wasn’t holding onto yours and he led you to the crowd. 

he kept towards the outskirts, only inching you in maybe five layers deep, nowhere near the center. his arm immediately slipped around your waist, knees bending a bit as he did, pulling you flush to him to the flow of music in the air. you giggled, swaying your hips along with his, less build up than you had with the other cowboy yet the destination was just as clear. 

you turned yourself around, pressing your back to him instead and he kept that same arm curled around your waist. you tilted your head, hair falling to one shoulder, leaving the other one bare for him. mingi had started something you were unable to finish, you’d hoped that yunho would pick up right where he left off. 

yunho took a breath, moving his hand to travel along the skin of the slope of your neck to your shoulder, pressing his fingers to the flesh made bare for him. your body’s temperature rose even higher than before, trapping the noise of enjoyment in your lungs. your hips moved in tandem, bodies moving as one to the beat, yunho’s small touches only encouraged the pit that was forming in your stomach. you were getting worked up, beginning to inch toward needing a release, not caring which cowboy you got it from. 

like he could read your mind, yunho bent down and pressed his lips to your shoulder, evoking a sound you couldn’t keep inside this time. your head sank back into his shoulder, your hips stuttering slightly against his, you couldn’t hide what yunho knew you needed right off the mark. 

his lips trailed along the skin of your shoulder, spending time where it met your neck, licking over the sensitive skin there, only encouraging your body to sink further into his own. his hand trailed around your hips, playing with the hem of your skirt, fingertips slipping inside the leather to rub against the skin of your thigh. 

you whipped your body around, overstimulated by the small touches, you needed more. you pressed your lips to his and he moved his hand from your skirt to the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair. his knee split your legs, slipping a muscled thigh between your own, pressing up against your center. 

once again you were in the crowded mob, doing something not meant for the public eye yet enjoying every second of it — damn near begging for more, for it to go further. you moaned at the contact, finally getting some kind of stimulation where you needed it. your lips moved quickly, rushed, your hand flying to his chest to grip onto the fabric of his shirt. yunho chuckled into the kiss and bounced his leg once, twice before you had to pull your lips off of his, eyes screwed shut. 

“yun!” a voice called from behind you and you wanted to scream in frustration, tell the other person to fuck off so you could keep going, finally finish what had been started. but as you whipped around and your other cowboy stared at you in the face, eyebrows raised and mouth slightly ajar, you knew you were caught red handed. 

a blush crept onto your cheeks, mingi clearly didn't realize it was you that yunho had attached himself to when he yelled his president’s name. you didn’t realize they knew each other. 

“damn, i was gonna ask if you were ready to move to another bar,” his lips pulled into a line but you didn’t see any anger in his big, innocent eyes, “i see that you’re busy.” 

your eyes trailed up and down his figure, thighs thick and full and inviting. you peered up to his lips through your eyelashes, missing their taste, wanting more of him. an idea popped into your head, another one that you didn’t consider the consequences of, thinking with everything but your head. 

you curled your index finger, motioning him towards you as your back sunk into yunho’s chest once more. as mingi came closer, your chin lifted to give mingi your best innocent look, “don’t go, we’re just getting started.” 

you swung your arms around mingi’s shoulders, locking your fingers around your cocktail, hips starting to move along to the song again. the boys followed your lead, neither of them saying a word, only falling into rhythm with you. 

with yunho pressed to your backside and mingi flushed against your front, you felt like you could let go, let your inhibitions run rampant between the two sturdy men who could easily take care of you. you pulled mingi down towards your face with the arms wrapped around his neck, you were met with no resistance as your lips connected once more. 

yunho drank from his beer as he kept his other hand secured on your hip, watching the scene unfold in front of him with darkened eyes. it was hot, watching a girl he just met make out with his best friend while her ass pressed against his cock so deliciously, grinding against him to the beat of the song. he was salivating, his beer washing down the desire he felt from head to toe, fingers gripping harder the longer you kissed. 

yours and mingi’s tongues danced again, fighting for dominance, neither of you unaware of the man that stood right behind you. the slight ache of yunho’s grip on your hip made you whimper into mingi’s mouth, mingi’s own hand lifting up to your waist. his thumb circled at the small space between your top and your skirt, feeling the softness of your skin, the heat that transferred from you to himself. 

you broke away from mingi and glanced behind you, noticing yunho’s lustful stare, his eyes low and clouded. you glanced to his lips and he agreed without a word, leaning forward to catch your awaiting lips with his own. 

mingi huffed at the contact between you and yunho, thumb slipping inside the hem of your top, wanting to keep his hands on you as you kissed his best friend. he pressed himself closer, keeping the growing tent in his jeans away from watchful eyes, suddenly very aware of what the three of you were doing in a packed club. 

“we should go,” mingi’s voice is hoarse as he speaks, “i mean, if you guys want to take this elsewhere.” 

you break away from yunho and nod, scared that the wetness between your legs will start dripping down your thighs if you don’t do something about it. you bring the rest of your drink to your lips, chugging three quarters of it down, the twin cowboys doing the same. you placed your glasses on the bar on your way out, the three of you nearly racing out of the club and back onto the street of broadway. 

“i’m staying at an airbnb a block away,” you decide, leading them in the direction of your place, not giving them the option of going anywhere else. 

as you walked off the busy street the two of them grabbed both of your hands on either side of you, their long legs making you have to walk twice as fast to keep up with them. you arrived quickly, messing up the door code not once but twice in anticipation, giving the code to yunho who punched in the numbers with a cool, calculated head. 

the living room had a few underage sisters still lingering, all who watched you with the two men with eyes that bulged out of their heads, but yet no one said a word. you gave them a small wave and a meek smile before you dragged the boys up the staircase, finally arriving at your bedroom which was a wreck after two days of getting ready. 

mingi hopped on the bed quickly, manspreading with his feet planted on the floor, an invitation for you to sit on his lap. 

“we should talk about this first,” yunho interrupted and both you and mingi simultaneously whined, you stopped in your tracks before hopping on mingi’s lap. 

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” yunho raised his hands in defense, “but we’ve all been drinking and i want this to be a good experience for all three of us.” 

“i want this,” you interjected with a finger, “i started it.” 

“i also want this,” mingi nodded in agreement, hands readjusting his jeans, “was hoping the night would end this way when i first laid eyes on you, doll.” 

you giggled, your body immediately moving to crawl onto his lap, making yourself comfortable on the spot he just readjusted. 

“hold on, little lady,” yunho came up behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders, “you sure? what do you want from this?” 

your head craned upward to look at yunho who stood over you, the crown of your head touching his chest as he towered over your figure that was spread across mingi’s lap. “i’m sure yunho, i wanna be taken care of, want you, want both of you.” 

you glanced down to mingi with the last part and that lopsided smirk returned to his lips as he leaned forward to finally kiss you. yunho interrupted with fingers wrapped around your throat before mingi got the pleasure, tilting your head upward to look at him once again. he leaned down to kiss you, upside down from his position behind you, and you involuntarily ground your hips into mingi. mingi groaned, his head tipping back, watching you kiss yunho. 

“don’t be afraid to tell us to stop if it gets to be too much, okay? you know the color system?” he says as soon as he breaks away from the kiss, moving his head so you were looking into his eyes that have gotten impossibly darker. you nodded and he let go, letting you stretch your neck side to side before you nearly pounced on mingi. 

you attached your lips to the first cowboy, all teeth and spit and tongue, no time to waste as your hands snuck up to the short tufts of hair that were peeking out of his hat, tugging at it. mingi groaned, his hips bucking into you from beneath you, his hands roaming across your thighs. you ground your hips into him, the bulge in his jeans dragging against your clothed clit just right, working your hips into a rhythm. 

you felt the bed dip beside you, remembering yunho was here too, you reached for him with a weak arm. he ignored your hand completely as he pulled your hair over to one shoulder again, leaving the whole side of your neck open, indulging himself in licking up the faint saltiness of sweat on your skin. you moaned into mingi’s mouth from the contact, the stimulation from his cock grinding up into you and yunho’s hot tongue running along your shoulder. 

you broke away from mingi’s mouth, continuing your assault on his lap while yunho licked up the base of your neck, making your head fall to the side so he could suck on your jaw, left hand coming up behind you to unzip your top. you and mingi filled the room with sweet sounds of pleasure, working yourselves on each other, his hands coming up to guide your hips against him. 

“fuck, mingi,” you cursed, your eyes fluttering shut as your top fell to the sheets, missing the widening of the twins eyes, how mingi’s tongue lolled out of his mouth at the sight. 

you felt the pit in your stomach start to build and fast, but it was ripped away from you even faster as yunho scooped you off of mingi’s lap and threw you on the bed behind him. you whined at the loss of contact, your skirt slipping up to your waist at the movement, nothing but your chest and your lacy black thong visible to the cowboys. 

“my turn,” yunho’s declaration was nasty as he attached his lips to yours again, body completely enveloping yours on top of the sheets that you left in disarray. you moaned into him as his hands fled to your chest, thumbs circling over the hardened peaks, making you arch into his touch, legs wrapping around his torso. 

mingi stripped himself of his hat, shirt and boots before he crawled next to the two of you on the bed, an arm sliding between yours and yunho’s bodies, slipping his fingers into your panties. 

you cried out a fuck into yunho’s mouth, the rest of the house be damned as mingi used his ring finger and began circling your clit. you broke the kiss as your head fell back into the mattress, digging into it, your chest arching up into yunho’s as mingi dipped his finger further down, dragging your slick up and down your folds. 

“so fucking wet,” mingi said under his breath, eyes focused on his own fingertip that was slipping in and out of you, barely breaking the line of his first knuckle. you couldn’t focus, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, the only word forming in your head was the continuous chant of more. 

“please put it inside, please don’t tease,” you whined, head turning to plead with mingi, eyebrows knitted together in frustration. yunho kissed down your neck and throat, licking the column, covering the area in his spit and all you could do was moan. 

mingi’s smile turned devilish, not a singular ounce of sympathy in his beautiful face. a rush of something fled through you as the dynamic changed in the room, mingi’s sweet, playful energy turned taunting, “you like it when i play with your pretty pussy, doll? hm?” 

your eyes rolled into the back of your head at his words and his finger that was slowly inching deeper, each stroke of the thick digit went further yet still not giving you its entire length, leaving you unsatisfied and impatient but utterly fucked out. 

yunho chuckled as he leaned backward, unhooking your legs from around his waist. your legs stayed spread around his hips as he sat on his haunches, taking one hand to move your panties to the side, watching as mingi’s finger that was covered in your slick barely moved in and out of your center. yunho had changed too, that cool, clear headed energy he filled the room with had turned dominant and powerful, it sent a shiver up your spine. 

he bit his lip as his eyes lowered in focus, “you were right ming, such a pretty fucking pussy.” 

your back arched again, hips bucking into mingi’s finger that still wasn’t giving you enough stimulation. mingi smiled at you through lowered eyes as you thrashed on the bed, bucking your hips even though it was doing nothing. 

“so antsy, what a needy girl,” mingi tsked, shaking his head as he watched you, fingers still not letting up from their unsatisfactory attempt of pleasuring you. 

“here, little lady,” yunho said as if he’d help while he brought his other hand to your center, thumb rubbing slow circles over your clit, using very little to no pressure. you were gonna lose your fucking mind. 

tears welled up in your eyes as the twin cowboys watched with amusement, enjoying your frustration before you brought your hand down to yunho’s wrist, opting to force more pressure from his hand if he wasn’t going to give it to you willingly. it was the only option left, they were getting a kick out of your misery, out of your begging — it was the wrong move, and it turned you on even more. 

yunho gasped as he pulled his hand away right before you could wrap your little fingers around his wrist, mingi following suit, leaving you empty and without any stimulation at all. you cried out, eyes squeezing shut, hips chasing their hands. 

“what was that?” yunho asked in disbelief while you stayed silent, eyes opening to small crescents, tears spilling from your mascara coated lashes. 

his head turned to mingi who responded, “i think that was the doll trying to fuck herself. seems she doesn’t need us at all.” 

mingi’s tightened lips pulled to the side, a disappointed look on his face when yunho responded, “i think you might be right again, ming. you don’t need us, little lady? you wanna fuck yourself? thought you wanted us to take care of you.” 

his words were taunting, mocking, the inflection of his voice did nothing but make the tears flow faster. they had definitely done this before, there were already too many moments where they read each other, knowing what the other was going to do next for this to be their first threesome, you were the naïve one here. you nodded, bobbing your head with fervor, a silent plea for them to just give in, give you what you needed.

“beg for it,” his words were vile, venom as he spat them off his tongue. a wicked smile followed yunho’s order, his hands sliding to your thighs to your hips to take control of your lower half. 

“need you to take care of me, please,” you were immediate in your plea, looking between the two men who wore sardonic faces, their smiles twisted. “need both of you so bad, want you inside me.” 

mingi leaned forward and wiped your tears from your cheeks, the sympathetic glint in his eye did not match the evil smile planted on his lips, “what’s that you sang to me earlier? save a horse and what?” 

“i think it’s save a horse and ride a cowboy,” yunho finished for mingi, pretending he had to rack his brain for the answer, just stalling for more time to look at your naked body spread out in front of him. 

mingi nodded in remembrance, the scene of you grabbing his hat and placing it on your own head playing out in his mind. he flipped over on the bed to his back, knees bent up as he looked over to you, “well? what are you waiting for?” 

you jumped. you scrambled over to lap, kneeling over him as you unbuckled his belt and he laughed, “so eager, doll. can’t wait, can you? no patience at all?” 

you shook your head, eyes completely glazed over as you unzipped his jeans, pulling them down to his ankles. he kicked them off with ease as you took in the size of him, eyes widening and a gasp leaving your lips at the sheer length he’d somehow kept hidden in his jeans. 

mingi chuckled before he turned his attention to yunho, “wait til she sees you.” yunho immediately smiled with a short nod, zeroed in on you spitting onto mingi’s length, spreading it with a manicured hand. 

you couldn’t hear him, too focused on the voice in your head screaming how the hell you were gonna fit him inside of you? you ignored your worry and kept your focus on him, figuring that you could at least try and take him in your mouth before you fit him inside. 

“there you go,” mingi cooed as you bent down to pepper kitten licks across his leaking tip, spreading the saliva that was pooling in your mouth down his length. you finally took what you could in your mouth, tongue massaging against the underside, hands pumping what your mouth couldn’t fit. mingi immediately groaned, his hand flying to tangle in your hair, not pushing your head but leaving the weight of his palm as a reminder that he could. 

yunho undressed himself off to the side, sitting back to watch, hand wrapped around his length as he pumped himself at the scene playing out in front of him. he always lets mingi go first, get the initial stretch out of the way so he could have an easier time slipping inside you. they had a method, the twin cowboys, a routine they’d used every time they found themselves sharing the same bed with a partner. you might have started this, but they fell into pattern the moment they realized where tonight was headed. 

you took mingi down in your throat, gagging around him, eyes filled with tears once more as you took him impossibly further. mingi’s eyes were screwed shut, moans falling from his lips, hips involuntarily bucking up into your throat with his fingers tangled in your hair. 

“so fucking good, doll, keep going,” his words slurred, voice low and hoarse as he tried to open his eyes to steal a peek at you. he failed, the view made the feeling overwhelming, you’re too good, too pretty, he felt a pit in his stomach forming and he could not allow that to happen just yet. his fingers pulled at the roots of your hair and lifted you off of him with a pop, his own mouth hanging open at the sight of your fucked out face. 

he pulled you up to his lips by your hair, kissing you roughly, once again all teeth and tongue. you whimpered into his mouth, reaching for his cock again and he bucked his hips into your grip on him. 

“ride me, need you,” he said into your lips between kisses, that raspy voice sending another wave of heat through your body.

“color?” a voice called from the side of the bed and you called green to the air, not even bothering to look over to the taller cowboy who asked the question, too engrossed in mingi’s slick, angry cock laying across his pelvis.

you swung your leg over his lap, spit onto your palm and gave mingi one last pump of lubrication before you lined yourself up over his length. you caught the taller cowboy in the corner of your eye, his hand was still, squeezing the base of his cock and your mouth went dry from what you saw out of your peripherals. 

“fuck yunho,” your eyebrows furrowed together as you finally looked over at him, another worry slithering up your spine, making you pause in your ministrations, locking up your joints. he was leaned back, chiseled abdomen clenched as he edged himself, head tipped back and knuckles white from the pressure of the squeeze around the base of his cock. he looked so fucking sexy you almost moaned from the view, but the fear remained, mingi was big but yunho was bigger, massive even as his cock curved toward him past his belly button. 

mingi gave you a light slap to your pussy making you gasp before you turned to face him. “eyes on me doll, i’m the one fucking you, not him.”

you nodded and tried to refresh your focus, regain your train of thought, lining him up with your center but you couldn’t relax as you tried to split yourself open on him. muscles locked, joints stiff, even mingi’s delicious length had you a little nervous despite every nerve begging you to sit the fuck down. 

yunho picked up on it, sliding from his spot beside you to slip behind you, planting kisses along on your shoulder and both hands on your hips. you relaxed in his touch, head leaning back on his shoulder, your own shoulders slumping.

“you can do it, little lady,” he encouraged, guiding your hips down onto mingi, “there you go, baby, relax for me, hm?”

you moaned at the stretch and yunho’s words, trying to relax your core, letting your head get a little fuzzy so you didn’t tighten around him and just sank. mingi moaned, a strained, languid noise as he felt you wrap around him, a delicious squeeze as you took him further. 

his hands sat on top of yunho’s as his eyes screwed shut, moaning his words in pleasure as much as he was encouraging, “yes, doll, take this dick.” 

the two men pulled you down further, guiding you, encouraging you to let go. a guttural moan broke out of you as you bottomed out, sitting flush against mingi. he let out a sigh of relief. 

“really thought you panicked after seeing yun,” mingi said with a laugh as you sat for a moment, enduring the stretch, embracing it. 

“i did,” you admitted and you heard a breath of amusement leave yunho's lips behind you. “you guys should’ve warned me!” 

“how were we supposed to warn you? hey i know you want to fuck us but just so you know we have massive cocks? that’s insane, we’d never get laid,” mingi replied and you laughed at that, almost as if he weren’t buried inside of you.

“valid,” you replied and you could feel yunho’s grip on your hips pulling your body upward, telling you to move without actually saying anything. you and mingi both moaned at the friction, you could feel every inch of him inside of you, every vein rubbing against your walls. 

“color?” yunho asked from behind you, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips as he guided you downwards again, keeping a slowed pace.

“green,” your voice was breathless and your eyes screwed shut, brain going fuzzy again knowing that yunho was fucking you onto his best friend’s cock. it made you feel like a doll, a plaything, and it was so fucking hot. 

“yes,” mingi whispered as you picked up speed, bouncing on him now, gaining enough strength of your own instead of relying on yunho’s. you lurched forward and your hands pressed against mingi’s sculpted abdomen, using it as leverage to bounce your hips, to gain a rhythm. 

yunho leaned back, hand wrapping around himself again as he watched you fuck mingi, a beautiful view of the back of you bouncing along his length. 

“so fucking sexy,” yunho’s voice was low and sultry, music to your ears and you moaned in response, eyebrows furrowing, that pit in your stomach growing again. yunho noticed your thighs twitch and your rhythm stagger, he was quick to sit on his knees again, wrapping an arm around your hips to attach his fingers to your clit. 

“yes! yes keep going,” you chanted, using the strength of your thighs instead of learning forward against mingi’s abdomen, giving yunho easier access to rub quick circles on your clit. 

“so fucking good doll, taking me so well,” mingi’s hands ran up your thighs as you bounced, his eyebrows fixed together, jaw dropped in pleasure. 

he was hitting every spot so deep, close to touching your cervix from how far he was inside of you. his hands leaned up and kneaded your tits, massaging your nipples between his fingers, pushing your boobs together, slack jawed from the sight in front of him.

“yes, cum on this cock,” the rasp to his voice was so hot, he felt his own orgasm approaching quickly, he needed you to cum first.

yunho circled your clit impossibly quicker and brought his lips to your neck again and you lost it, creaming around mingi, your bounces becoming erratic as you finished on him with a loud cry. mingi quickly brought his hands back to your hips, fucking you onto him through your orgasm, keeping you at a pace to get him past the finish line. 

“inside,” you mumbled through heavy breaths, “cum inside me baby, please mingi, wanna feel it, wanna be full of you.” 

mingi lost it at that, hips bucking up into you until he lost it, too. he finished inside you with a loud groan, his hips slowing, overstimulating himself until he came to a stop. 

like they had a routine, mingi gave himself a moment to catch his breath as yunho lifted you off his length, mingi pulling his body up the bed until his back was against the headboard. you gasped at their quick movements, you were hoping for at least a minute to recover.

“my turn,” he repeated the same words from earlier as he flipped you, laying you down against mingi’s broad chest, kissing you sweetly as his hands raked over your body. 

“say red if you need to stop, okay?” he looked up to you, eyes staring deep into your own so you knew he was being serious. you nodded and he smiled, kissing you again, taking a minute to get lost in your mouth as his hand traveled to your center that had just been pumped full moments prior. 

he let his fingers slip up and down your folds and you gasped, hips immediately bucking at the contact. 

“too sensitive,” you whined, grabbing mingi’s hands that were laid at your sides. 

“gonna take care of you little lady, don’t worry,” yunho didn’t even look up as he spoke, eyes glazed over as he watched his fingers slip through the flood, the mixture of yours and mingi’s release coating his long digits. 

yunho laid down on the mattress, face centimeters from your center and you panicked. is he doing… what you think he’s about to do? he planted a quick kiss to your clit and your head shot back against mingi’s shoulder, a whine leaving your lips from the quick contact, only getting louder as yunho’s tongue dragged from your overstimulated clit to your full hole. 

he spit on it, getting his own liquids in the mix, a concoction of the three of you that was messily spread onto your pussy. it was hot as much as it was embarrassing, you couldn’t live in the discomfort for any longer than a second as the pleasure overtook it.

“shit,” your moan was dragged out as yunho ate mingi’s cum out of you, you watched him lick, you watched him swallow, you watched as he dug his face farther into you when your hips involuntarily bucked into him. 

he took one of his hands that was pressing your thighs to the side and brought it to your center, circling his middle finger around your entrance, slipping the tip of it inside. 

“not this again,” you whined and yunho chuckled against you, sending vibrations through your entire body before he slipped the entire finger inside. 

you cried out, back arching, nails digging into mingi’s hands as you chanted thankyouthankyouthankyou into the air. he added another finger, scissoring them inside of you, curling them up to hit the spongy spot inside of you that made you see stars. 

the pit grew again, that tight band that threatened to snap dangerously quick. yunho kept the pace of his tongue against your clit, a brutal rhythm, one begging you to cum all over his face. 

“go ahead doll, cum,” mingi said in your ear, voice still low and hoarse and strung, it was music to your ears. you let the band snap, hips jerking against yunho’s face but he let you ride it out, let you come down before he came up for air. 

“no one’s ever done that before,” you admitted the second yunho was in earshot, still shocked and slightly embarrassed by what he had just done you began babbling. “well, i’ve never had a threesome before so no one’s really had the opportunity to.” 

both yunho and mingi’s heads snapped to look at one another before they looked back at you. yunho’s eyes were wide as he spoke, “this- we are your first threesome? why didn’t you say that?!” 

“why would i tell you that?” you asked in the same shocked tone, chest still heaving from your orgasm. 

“it’s the same reason we didn’t tell you we were packing,” mingi replied from behind you, chest vibrating into your back, “you were scared we’d say no.” 

“we wouldn’t of said no,” yunho interjected as he sat back up on his haunches, throwing your legs around his hips again as he lined himself up, “we just would’ve been nicer, more gentle.” 

“too late for that, put it in,” you were quick in your response, eyes flying to yunho’s cock, making mingi chuckle beneath you. 

yunho lined himself up before he paused again, making you whine and answer him before he had the chance to speak, “i’m green and impatient, i’ll tell you if it hurts. put it in.” 

he smiled before he pushed himself in, face contorting as he was greeted with resistance, but not enough to make him concerned. your eyebrows twisted, eyes closing at the stretch, still a discomfort after coming twice so far.

mingi let go of your hands and brought one finger to your clit, the other hand tweaking at your nipple, trying to make the pleasure outweigh the discomfort. you moaned, a strangled but sweet noise, the stretch was intoxicating. 

yunho sheathed himself inside of you and groaned, his head falling forward, leaning his forehead against yours. 

“still so fucking tight little lady, gotta open up for me or i’m gonna cum,” his voice was low, his breath labored as you tried your best to relax again. 

“yeah, just like that, there we go,” he noticed the release of your core and began rocking himself into you, small grunts turning into louder moans the faster his thrusts became. 

mingi kept up the pace of his fingers with yunho’s thrusts making the pleasure almost blinding, so overstimulating you felt your head go fuzzy again, tongue lolling out of your mouth, your senses leaving you. 

“perfect little pussy taking me so good,” yunho praised, only sending you further into whatever headspace you’d entered. you didn’t even know what sounds were leaving you as yunho’s thrusts became relentless, fucking into you at a speed that had you seeing stars again, your head falling lifelessly onto mingi’s shoulder. the pit in your stomach returned and you wondered how it was possible for the two of them to make you cum nearly three times in one night. 

“yunho, so fucking big,” you tried to muster but your babbles had become incoherent as you grabbed onto mingi’s forearms, nails clawing at the soft skin, stuck between wanting him to stop and wanting him to rub your clit faster, your orgasm right on the brink of crashing over you again. 

your hips started fucking back onto him and your prayers were answered, your cries ascending to almost screams as your stomach snapped again, so loud the twin cowboys were hoping those girls in the living room had left. 

“fuck yes, cum on this cock. give me another,” yunho ordered, hands wrapping around your hips again, pulling you into him harshly. his brain seemed to have gone elsewhere also, the dominance returning, the powerful energy he’d surrounded the space with earlier. 

“again?” you cried, hands coming up to claw at yunho’s forearms instead, “i can’t!” 

“yes you can, baby, cum again. give me another, wanna feel you cum around me,” he was as mindless as you are, eyes empty as he fucked into you at a dangerous pace. 

mingi’s hand slid up your torso and his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing ever so slightly but just enough, the loss of air causing that pit of pleasure to grow again. yunho smiled, a devilish one while his hand came to circle your clit, tipping you over the edge. 

“yes baby, fuck yes, so good for me,” yunho praised as you came around him, the clench of your pussy only aiding his own release. 

“such a good girl,” mingi cooed, grabbing your hands again, kissing your cheek to soothe your now twitching body. yunho only got out three, four, five more pumps inside you before he was emptying himself, coming down to stilling his movements. 

you caught your breath for a second, pussy still pulsing around him, feeling so utterly spent. yunho pulled out and collapsed beside you, his chest heaving, hands dangling atop his chest. 

“color?” yunho asked, that kind smile on his face as he turned to you. 

“green,” you responded, your voice raspy, “but you can’t fuck me again. i won’t be able to handle cumming again for another, like, three days.” 

the twins both laughed at that, mingi pecking small kisses to your cheek before he asked, “should we shower?” 

the three of you showered, all of you resembling something like zombies as you all shared the same vanilla coconut body wash. you went back downstairs after that for food and water, all dressed in white robes the airbnb provided, and the girls that were in the living room earlier were all still there, faces bright red. 

“wanna watch a movie?” you asked the room, the twin cowboys still behind you, and the girls reluctantly agreed, only receiving shy nods of their heads.  the three of you sat on the massive sectional surrounded by your sisters in their pinkest pajamas, with cozy robes and towels twisted around your heads. you ate popcorn, watched once upon a time in the west, and fell asleep with your limbs entangled, cozied up in the fluffiest blankets with two cowboys that’d go down in history in your sorority’s legendary spring break stories.

[thebearer]

nothing in the world belongs to me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: still new in your relationship, you show up to the bear for dinner unexpectedly, surprising carmen and the others.

based off this prompt from the other day :)

contains: fluff lol. really, it's just fluff. established-ish relationship (the others don't know). carmen being a little nervous and possessive but mainly cute <3 language.

“Alright, listen up,” Richie stood next to Sydney, flicking through the piles of tickets that were ringing through by the second. It was normal now, an expected task in their routine. “We need to walk the focaccia to table seven, please.” 

“Yes, Chef!” A chorus of nearly robotic voices rose from the sizzling hiss of the lamb searing in Carmen’s pan, lifting the spatula to tip the meat over, before giving it back to the chef on the line. 

“And for table nine, we’ve got a shellfish allergy, alright? So let’s triple check the cross contamination on that. T, can you handle that one?” Richie moved from his leather bound book of notes back to the ticket. 

“Yes, Chef!” Tina chimed, pulling a freshly washed pan, filling it with the veal stock. 

“Table nine, is that- that’s the senator?” Carmen turned to Richie, tasting the roux bubbling on Victoria’s station, giving her a curt nod of approval. 

“No, that’s table eleven.” Richie hummed, looking back at his notebook. “Nine, is… a birthday. Booked online.” Carmen had already begun to drone him out, mind racing with a million other things as Richie listed the guests name. Until he got to one. 

The name Carmen was sure he was hallucinating. The name no one knew- How would they know? How could they possibly know your name? 

You and Carmen had been seeing each other for a little while. A few weeks that were slowly turning into months. A casual thing that was slowly turning more serious. Dates and meetups are becoming more frequent. You’d even invited him over to your place a few times, he’d spent the night last week. 

Still, Carmen hadn’t managed to tell anyone. Selfishly, he liked that you were all his for now. Privacy was not guaranteed in the Berzatto house, in Carmen’s life still. He knew they meant well, they always did- he knew it wasn’t purposeful, the intrusion that almost always led to a demise. Carmen wasn’t ready for it, not yet, he still wanted you all to himself. 

“Carmen?” Sydney’s voice pulled him out of his panicked trance. “Chef, are you- are you good?” Her voice lilted with that familiar suspicious quip, the one always accompanied with her lifted brows. 

“What?” Carmen blinked, hands buzzing, heart thumping. He could see the window, Richie’s frame blocking most of it. “Sorry, yeah- yeah, I’m good, Chef.” 

Sydney watched him carefully, a slow nod before she continued calling out orders. Carmen could feel Richie’s eyes on him, narrowed with curiosity. Carmen tried to be nonchalant, crossing the kitchen back towards Tina, his eyes cutting carefully, looking out the window. 

There you were. 

Sitting pretty at the middle table, surrounded by friends, some Carmen recognized from your Instagram. He’d actually logged in to the app, looked you up after the first date, consumed every photo of yours in the dark of his room. Cheeks burning with excited heat, stomach fluttering in a way he hadn’t felt since junior high. 

“Alright, walk five salads to nine.” Sydney called out. “Where’s our runners? God, Richie, can you run-” 

“-I got it.” Carmen called, the urgency in his tone making Tina jump behind him. Carmen took the tray before Gary could, his hands shaking as he lifted it. 

“Cousin, I can get it.” Richie frowned. 

“No, I-I got it.” Carmen nodded, swallowing down his fluttering nerves. His eyes cut to your table through the window, heart skipping when he saw you. “I got it. I’ll be- I’ll just be a second.” 

“I don’t- I can’t even handle that one right now.” Sydney sighed in exasperation. “Alright, Chefs. Let’s get back on track.” She announced, shaking her head. Richie frowned, pulling out his phone. 

Sugar’s cell buzzed against the hostess stand, excusing herself to check it. 

From: Richie 

‘Look at table nine.’ 

Sugar huffed. 

To: Richie 

‘Why? Is there something wrong?’ 

She stepped back, casually turning to scan the room, eyes landing on the table. A small group of girls, younger, and amongst them- Carmen? 

To: Richie 

‘Is something wrong with the food? Do I need to comp it?’ 

From: Richie 

‘No. Cousin wanted to go out there.’ 

Sugar frowned, angling her body behind the large plant near the front as casually as she could. She watched through the leaves as Carmen passed out the salads, each girl grinning widely, but their eyes always cut to one on the end. 

Carmen saved your salad for last, hoping the lowlights of the restaurant would hide his boyish blush, setting the bowl in front of you carefully. “Hey,” 

“Hi,” You smiled sheepishly, looking to meet his gaze. “Everything looks so good.” 

“Yeah? Thanks.” Carmen nodded. “I-I didn’t know you were comin’ tonight.” 

“I’m sorry.” You cringed softly, embarrassed heat flooding through your veins. You knew better, knew you shouldn’t have done this- showed up at his restaurant unannounced. 

“I, uh, it’s my friend’s birthday.” You nodded towards Alicia at the end of the table. “And I was telling them about that pasta you made me, and they really wanted to come try it.” Your nerves bubbled, rambling in nervous peals that seemed to pour out before you could stop them.  

“Yeah, no, that’s really nice. Thank you.” Carmen nodded, giving a half smile to your friends, hoping they didn’t see the way he wiped his clammy hands on his apron. “Why didn’t- Why didn’t you just call me? Tell me you were comin’ in.” 

“I didn’t want to bother you.” You muttered softly. “I honestly didn’t think you’d even see us here, I swear. I didn’t mean to bother you or anything-” 

“-You’re not bothering me.” Carmen’s voice dropped to a coo, accompanied with a soft smile that had your head spinning. “Never a bother, but, uh, next time? Bother me, ok? Wanna make sure you get the best seat in the house.” 

Your cheeks flushed with heat, your friends excited giggles only intensifying the rushing heat blanketing over your body. Carmen’s own cheeks heated, tongue rolling on the inside of his cheek to hide his grin. 

“Alright?” Carmen added, and in a complete act of shocking boldness, his hand squeezed your shoulder affectionately. A small gesture on the outside, but for Carmen, it was huge. 

“Alright.” You grinned, leaning into his touch, your hands sliding over his. 

“How’s everything so far?” Carmen turned to the table, nodding at the excited gushes of compliments, not missing the way your friends cut their eyes to you with animated glee. 

“Just let me know if you need anything, ok?” Carmen turned to you.

“I will.” You nodded, starry eyed with love sick affection. 

“Good. I’ll see you before you leave, alright?” Carmen muttered, ducking down towards you. His lips brushed over your cheek, your perfume clouding his senses. “You’re not botherin’ me. ‘M glad you’re here.” 

Your cheek pressed to his, a gentle, affectionate rub before Carmen parted. Both of your features painted with shy delight. 

Carmen could feel everyone’s eyes, through flickering gazes and lifted brows. Sydney’s gaze lingering over him skeptically, still counting tickets. Fak’s wide grin from the corner, loading trays to take out. 

“Hey, uh, Marcus.” Carmen ignored Richie’s raised brows, a teasing, questioning remark on the tip of his tongue. 

“Yes, Chef?” Marcus muttered, looking up from the cannolis he was garnishing. 

“Table nine has a birthday. I was thinkin’ maybe the chocolate ganache, punch it with the little circle to make it look like a cake. Add a candle?” Carmen muttered, hand rubbing across his face. 

“Yeah, Chef, I can do that.” Marcus nodded. 

“Thank you.” Carmen nodded. “And Chef? Let me know when it’s ready before you walk it.” 

Marcus frowned. “No, it’s not- I just wanna walk it, ok?” Carmen shook his head. 

“Alright.” Marcus nodded slowly. “Heard, Chef.” 

Richie smirked, leaning against the stainless steel table. “So,” Richie hummed. “There a complaint or somethin’? Need me to go talk to ‘em-” 

“-No,” Carmen snapped, the possessiveness in his tone startling the both of them. “Sorry, it’s- No, I-I don’t need you to do that, Chef. Everything’s good.” 

Richie nodded slowly, passing the dishes to Gary with a nod. “You gonna tell me what that was about?” 

“No, Chef.” Carmen clipped, an edge to his tone that was teetering on annoyed. “But, uh, there’s not gonna be a check on table nine.” 

“What?” Richie frowned. “Did you mess somethin’ up? Seriously, Cousin, if something's wrong it’s my job to know-” 

“-No, it’s not-.” Carmen huffed, eyes pinching closed, running a hand over his face in frustration. “Look, that’s… The girl on the end? I-I’ve been kinda seein’ her, ya know?” He muttered. 

Richie gawked, blinking in disbelief. “No shit.” He grinned. “No shit? You-You’re serious?” He turned to look out the window. 

“Don’t fuckin’ look.” Carmen hissed. “Look, it-it’s not a big deal, alright? Just don’t-don’t say anything o-or do anything.” 

Richie swallowed back a teasing remark, a reactive reaction from years of being with Mikey. How the two of them used to tease Carmen endlessly, until they were fighting on the front lawn, Mikey howling with laughter while Carmen was red faced with mortified anger. 

This time, Richie held back. He wasn’t sure why, call it divine intervention, a gut feeling maybe, but it felt different this time. 

“Alright.” Richie nodded slowly. “No ticket for nine. Heard.” 

Carmen’s foot tapped anxiously. “I mean, right? Th-That’s what I should do right?” Carmen looked over his shoulder out the window. “That would be shitty to give her a check? Be a complete jagoff move to charge her?” 

“Yeah,” Richie scoffed lightly. “Jagoff of the fuckin’ year. Makin’ your girl pay to come to your place.” 

Carmen’s heart swelled at the term- your girl. His girl. You were his girl. 

“Walk four Pappardelle to nine. Walk one Pappardelle vegetarian style to nine.” Sydney called. 

Carmen dipped the spoon in the glaze, garnishing the plate before sliding it towards Sydney. “So, you gonna take these out?” He muttered. 

“No,” Carmen huffed. “Gonna wait until the cake.” 

“Yeah, good idea, Cousin.” Richie nodded with a proud smile. “That when you’re gonna tell them no check tonight?” 

“No,” Carmen shook his head. “I don’t- It would feel weird comin’ from me.” He looked up at Richie. “I was gonna let you do it.” 

“Yeah, I can handle that.” Richie smirked. “And I won’t say anything, Cousin.” He stopped Carmen before he could say it. “I got you, Cousin. I won’t fuck it up, alright?” 

Carmen nodded slowly, a strangled thank you on the tip of his tongue. The door swung open behind Richie, and for a second, Carmen caught a glimpse of you. Smiling and laughing, leaned in over the table, no doubt giggling with your friends about him. Carmen’s heart squeezed, but this time, without fear. No, there was no dooming fear that you were mocking him, making fun of him. This time, he felt the content rush of adrenaline filled love. A change in his routine, yes. Unexpected, sure, but he was glad for it. Glad that you were there- here, with him.