#It will be for a couple weeks or for all or most of summer break haven't decided yet

[becausesecondsnotthesame]

everyone is trying to make plans with me after not making plans with me all summer bc suddenly everyone is realising that i’m going to canada in two weeks and i’m like flattered i guess that they want to see me but i also physically cannot see all these people in this amount of time and work and pack for canada and sort out my admin and it’s stressing me out i’m????

[once-upon-a-thigh]

Breaststroke, breast...stroke

Summary: Wanda takes a special interest in her kids' swim teacher. Kinda AU

Pairing: Switch! Wanda Maximoff X Switch! Fem Reader

Class: Oneshot: smut

Warnings: mommy kink, public sex, pool sex, fingering (r giving and receiving), oral (r giving), strap on sex (r receiving) age gap (milf wanda and collage-age reader), tiny bit of degradation.

Words: 3.1k

"Okay kids that's it for today!" I yelled across the pool, hands cupping my mouth.

Being on summer break from collage, I have taken up working at the Westview community pool. I mostly just work as a life guard, however lately I've been taking over a couple swim classes in order to get some extra cash (being broke and all).

"Wait! Please please please can we have a race first y/n?" Tommy, one of the kids I teach, gripped on to the edge of the pool and gave me the widest puppy dog eyes possible.

"Oh come on Tommy, you're just asking because you know you'll win!" His twin, Billy, rolled his eyes and paddled to the edge.

I laughed. "How about we have a race at the end of the lesson next week?" I proposed, leaning down so that I am more on their level. The group of kids gave an exhausted cheer, before making their way out of the pool and towards their parents who awaited with towels held open.

Whilst packing away the floats and hoops into a box that we used during the lesson, I sneakily watched out of the corner of my eye as Billy and Tommy approached their mom. She grabbed them in one towel, huddling them close to her as she smothered their faces in kisses. The boys grimaced and attempted to push away from each other, which only caused Miss Maximoff to cackle and squeeze them closer. I couldn't help the smile that rose on my face, her husband left her quite recently and yet she is still such a great mom.

Practically everyone in our small town knew about their split, news travels fast around here. Most people were upset, Wanda and Vision had seemed like the perfect couple, both being incredibly kind to others and each other. Well, seemingly. I on the other hand, was relieved. I know, I'm so terrible, but I can't help it. Wanda Maximoff is just so perfect, and now I actually have a chance. My friends think I'm crazy for pursuing her given the age gap and the fact she has kids, but they haven't witnessed the chemistry in our interactions.

"You're staring again y/n y/l/n." My best friend, Yelena, approached me. I was so excited when she suggested the idea of us getting jobs at the same place, now I realise it's just more time for her to be a pain in my ass.

"You're using my full name again Yelena Belova." I rolled my eyes, grabbing the whistle from her and making my way to my backpack so I can take out my red uniform shirt and red shorts.

"You're delusional." She followed me, picking at her nails as I put the clothes over my one piece.

I turn to her, giving her a sarcastic look with a tilt of my head. "And you're an asshole. Why are you still here anyway? I'm taking over your shift, go away."

She gave me a playful shove. "I'm just here to observe public swim."

"Perv." I scoffed.

"Not like that! It's just I heard a certain someone telling her friends that she planned to stay." She smirked, nudging her head in the redheads direction.

Low and behold, Wanda's ex-husband had showed up for an exchange with the kids. I watched as they both ran to his car with grins on their faces, and Wanda observed with a gentle smile. At least they're on good terms. She then walked to one of the sunbeds, setting a beach bag on the ground and - oh my god.

My jaw dropped as she lifted her sundress, revealing a red one piece that hugged her curves tightly, flaunting her cleavage in a low v-shaped neckline. I was practically drooling as my eyes ran up her soft legs, I couldn't help but imagine how they they would flex if they were tightened around my head whilst I-

"Hey! She's looking at you weirdo!" Yelena elbowed me with a fake toothy grin, aggressively whispering without actually moving her lips. With wide eyes at the realisation of what Yelena just said, my eyes met hers. Her eyes were piercing, slightly narrowed in a sultry gaze. There was a quirk at the corner of her full lips, almost as if she was giving me a teasing smirk.

Waking up from my daydream, I chuckled nervously and gave her a slight wave whilst scratching at the back of my neck with the other. She wiggled her fingers back at me, giving me a discreet wink. Delusional my ass...

"Huh." Yelena shrugged, giving no time to explain whatever conclusion she just came to about that interaction. "Call it, I'm going to work on my tan."

As she walked off, I lifted the whistle from around my neck up to my lips and gave it a blow. "Pool's open!" I yelled, climbing up into the life guard chair as members of the public that had been waiting to use the pool began to climb in.

-----------------------

For the next few hours, I did my jobs as I was supposed to. I did my rounds, blew my whistle when people broke the rules, and kept watch over everyone in the pool, ready to dive in at the first sign of trouble. However, that did not stop my watchful eye from drifting towards the sunbathing redhead. She hadn't used the pool yet, despite it closing in an hour. Not that I mind, I could watch her lie there all day and never get bored. But, I would be disappointed if she doesn't get in now that it's quiet and I can join in on the swimming. Then, I might finally be able to make my move, as Yelena had been suggesting I do with her not-so-subtle hip thrusts as she was passing Wanda to go home not too long ago.

Taking a glance at the time on my phone, I decided if I wanted to cool off in the pool at all today it had to be now. It was almost time to close and there was only a couple adults left, Wanda included. Stepping down the ladder and stripping out of my uniform, I made my way into the pool, sighing and closing my eyes as my slightly burnt shoulders were soothed in the cool water.

I heard the water to the right of me being disturbed and opened my eyes to see Wanda coming back out of the water, having just jumped in. I watched mesmerised as she slicked her hair back, drops still rolling down her supple cheeks. I could feel my own blushing at the sight. Brushing off my nerves, I decided now was the time to make my move.

I let out a low whistle, not needing the device around my neck, and looked her up and down with a smirk. "No diving Miss Maximoff."

She replied with a cheeky smile, "oh come on y/n, can't make an exception for the mother of your favourite students?"

"I don't have favourite students." I smiled back, leaning my elbow up against the edge of the pool so I can face her fully.

"Hm, what about favourite parents." She leaned forward a bit, just a few inches away from my face. I couldn't help but gulp as I watched her tongue brush over her bottom lip.

"Well that wouldn't be fair to the other parents now would it?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Oh so I am your favourite?" She grinned, before moving back teasingly and swimming away in a breaststroke. Hah, breast stroke, more like breasts I would like to stroke... Okay no, that was a bad pun y/n.

Okay this is it, perfect opening. I swam after her quickly, meeting her at the opposite end of the pool where I could stand, the water coming to about waist level. I took a glance around, noticing we were now the only people at the pool. I took a step closer to her, her back leaning against the edge. I took note of the way she licked her lips, her eyes running down my figure as her fingers twitched, almost as if they were holding back from reaching out to me to pull me closer. She looked desperate, and I fucking loved it.

"How about I show you why you're my favourite?" I asked, moving closer and resting my hands on the edge of the pool at either side of her body. I could feel her chest brush against mine now as she attempted to steady her breathing.

"And how are you going to do that?" She gasped out, leaning forward until her lips are just centimetres from mine.

I didn't feel the need to verbally answer, so instead I crashed my lips against hers. She instantly met my rushed pace, her hands trailing up my neck and tangling in my hair, releasing it from the messy bun I had styled. She let out a groan as our tongues met. I moved my hands to her waist, squeezing at the sound. The kiss soon turned desperate, both of us letting out moans and gasps of approval as our hands searched each other's bodies, grasping and squeezing at anything we could.

My hands moved down to her ass, grabbing both cheeks before taking hold of her thighs and lifting her onto the edge of the pool. She gasped at the sudden action, which turned into a breathy moan as my lips moved to her neck. Sucking and biting, I was relentless and uncaring, marking all down her body as I lowered the straps of her suit and pulled it down as I went.

"Fuck.." I muttered to myself when her tits became exposed, instantly moving both hands towards them, my thumbs circling the stiff peaks. She threw her head back as I took her left nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue around it and biting lightly.

She tugged on my hair, causing my neck to crane back so I am looking her in the eyes. She grabbed my face with her other hand, squeezing my cheeks roughly until my lips are puckered. She took the time to bite my bottom lip, pulling it out even further before letting it go with a pop.

"Stop teasing mommy, and fuck her."

She didn't have to tell me twice. I hastily tugged at her suit, tapping her thigh to signal for her to lift her hips so I can take it off fully. After throwing the red fabric behind me, I placed my hands on the top of her thighs, spreading them apart and bending down between them so I am level with her bare core. I moaned outload at the sight, causing her to let out a quiet chuckle. I began to nip at her inner thighs, leaving a trail of open mouth kisses as I approached her sweet centre. I dug my nails in to her skin, leaving half moon indents as soon as I got a taste of her. I lapped her juices up to her clit, using the natural lubricant to circle the sensitive but with the tip of my tongue.

"Oh fuck baby." She whimpered, one hand in my hair and one on the concrete behind her so she can brace herself as she grinded against my face.

I trailed a finger to her entrance, sinking it in to her tight pussy as I continued to circle her clit.

"Yes! Just like that baby, you're fucking mommy so good." She continued to speak her dirty words to me as I sunk in another finger, fucking her at a fast pace, curling my fingers when inside in order to reach the spongy part of her pussy that had her thighs clenching around my shoulders. "I have been waiting for this for so long. Watching you walk around the pool, bending down in front of me in those little shorts like a teasing slut."

I fucked her harder at the revelation, even more turned on at the fact that my infatuation had been returned this whole time.

"Oh baby you're going to make me cum, keep doing that!" She grasped my hair harder, pushing me right up against her pussy to the point where it was hard to breathe. My tongue movements started to get sloppy, though I don't think she minded. Her moans grew louder as my tongue covered her entire pussy in messy licks and slurps, fingers cramping as she squeezed them with her walls as she came. I licked clean what I could, sucking on my own fingers like a lollypop after slipping them out of her.

She gripped my chin, pulling me up towards her so she could kiss me again, tasting her own cum and juices on my lips. "Come home with me, mommy has a surprise for you." She whispered against my mouth.

----------------

After closing the pool, most likely inaccurately as I was in such a rush, I climbed into the passenger seat of Wanda's car. No words were exchanged in the five minute drive to her home, just heavy breathing as her hand laid resting on my upper thigh.

As soon as we made it through the front door, she pushed me towards the stairs, slapping my ass so I would hurry towards her room. Closing the door, she locked it and turned towards where I was standing at the base of her bed.

"Strip." She ordered.

As slowly and seductively as possible, I lowered the straps of my swimsuit from my shoulders and folded it down over my breasts. She didn't give me much time, before she lurched forward and pushed me back on the bed, pulling my suit off herself. "I'm done waiting love."

Leaving me on the bed, she moved towards the closet and pulled a large strap on dildo out of a box. I practically drooled at the sight. I could feel my pussy dripping onto the sheets as she tugged off her clothes for the second time tonight, and tightened the black straps around her waist and thighs.

She made her way back to me, crawling between my legs that I had already spread for her.

"Do you want mommy's cock baby?" She spat in her hand, using it to wet the fake cock as she rubbed it whilst maintaining eye-contact with me.

"Yes mommy, please fuck me with your cock." I whimpered, desperate to be filled.

"I've got to stretch you out first baby, mommy's cock is so big compared to that tight little pussy." She rubbed her fingers between my folds, and moaned as a string of my juices followed them as she lifted them to her mouth. "So sweet."

Wanda moved two fingers back to my pussy, circling my clit before sinking them into my hole. I arched my back at the feeling, catching her eyes as she grinned down at my squirming body. She moved her other hand to my hip, holding me own as she grinded her fingers in to me.

She didn't waste much more time before taking her fingers out of me and leaning over, pressing her body flush against me as she sunk her soaked fingers into my mouth. I grasped at her wrist with both hands, closing my eyes as I sucked her long fingers clean.

"Such a dirty girl for mommy, you want to be filled with something bigger don't you?" She tutted, lightly slapping my cheek with her wet hand.

"Yes mommy, please fuck me." I gripped the back of her neck, tugging her close until her forehead was pressed against mine. I felt her breath hit my lips as she let out a groan, sinking the tip of her strap in my slit, shuffling so the base of the strap is against her own clit. I threw my head back and let out a loud whine, scratching my nails down her back the further she pushed the cock into my cunt.

Her head dropped to my neck, leaving a kiss at my pulse point as she started to rock her hips back and forth, fucking the large cock into me as deep as it would go. I moaned as the shaft brushed against my g-spot, sinking so deep I could feel it bulging against my stomach.

"Such a tight pussy." She groaned, hovering her face over mine and bracing on her elbows at either side of my head as she began to fuck into me at a faster pace. The bed began to rock, causing the bed frame to hit the wall. Thank god the boys were with Vision tonight. Wait... had she planned this?

We were moaning into each others mouths, embracing lips and tongues whenever we were still enough. Her forehead began to sweat, almost glimmering in the bedroom lighting as she began to buck her hips into me faster. I began to scream her name as I got closer and closer to my high, gripping at her shoulders in order to ground myself as my body began to move across the bed the harder she fucked me.

"That's it, that's it baby." She cooed breathlessly, grinding in to me and chasing her own high. "Be a good girl for me and cum around your mommy's cock."

"Oh god!" I yelled, opening my mouth in a silent scream as tears peaked out of the corner of my eyes. "I'm cumming mommy."

"Fuck you're so hot baby, you're going to make me cum." She groaned, leaning her forehead against mine causing her breasts to press up against mine. Hard nipples rubbed against my own causing even more euphoric stimulation. I wrapped my legs around her ass, pulling her into me even closer than I believed possible.

"I want you to cum inside me." I hissed against her lips. I knew it wasn't possible, but fuck I wanted it. She let out a teasing chuckle.

"I have something that can help with that next time." She grinned, fucking me faster in response to whatever fantasy was running through her head.

"Fuck baby such a good girl making your mommy cum-" her words turned into a high pitched moan, as her hip movement became stiff. What was deep thrusts have now become shallow, hips rocking into me gently as her lips met mine. We both came down from our highs as our lips moved against each others whilst the rest of us stilled.

She pulled the top half of her body back, leaving the strap inside me still, and gave me a wink. "Did that help with your reasoning as to why I am your favourite?"

[onlyswan]

summary: in which it’s pouring outside and jungkook is craving s’mores.

> fluff / wc: 3k

> warnings: is this considered having an existential crisis ? mention of making out <3

note: we’re in the middle of summer but i waited for it to rain all week just to write this. because it only felt right shrugs. do i wish you’d read this while listening to rain sounds in the bg ? maybe.

as always lmk what you think :] mwah

—

“we look like a movie poster for those indie romance movies right now.” jungkook utters quietly with a small smile, the kind that shows more in his eyes than his lips. “the kind that leaves you with an ache in your heart for days but it hurts so good because the movie felt too real and too dreamlike at the same time.”

hushed whispers floating in the cold, unlit living room. his voice loud enough for you to hear despite the clouds crying loudly up above the sky and over the roof over your heads. the clouds’ weeping is music for the gentle souls, after all.

you ought to chase his words around, hands clawing at the air and naked feet pattering against the carpeted floor, just to swallow and keep them safe in your heart. your little treasure chest that had to break a couple million times to accommodate more words. more memories. more love.

a kiss is pressed on the exposed skin of your right shoulder, the sleeve of your oversized shirt hung lower and lower the longer the fervent dancing of your lips with jungkook’s went on.

your legs around his waist. his hands holding your waist. your hands grasping at the loose shoulders of his grey shirt. his forehead leaning against yours. why do lovers hold on to each other as if there will be no tomorrow to come? at which point of loving does the subconscious and irrational fear of the world ending at any second start to surface? the thought of the humankind ceasing to exist has been stubbornly knocking on your skull these days. and to put it frankly, your only concern about it is not being able to kiss jungkook like this again.

“too real and too dreamlike.” you repeat his words. your fingers caress his face tenderly, index finger tracing the scar on his cheek. every bump and every dent give you the reassurance that you are not dreaming. you sigh a breath of relief. “that describes you perfectly.”

“nuh-uh,” he raises an eyebrow. “that was meant for you. you know, i find it hard to believe how lucky i am. that i can hold you like this.” he softly squeezes your hips to emphasize his point.

“there are moments when i realize that oh shit, i have the most beautiful person in the world in my life and i am in theirs. ah, just saying it out loud like this makes it even harder to believe. i’m so happy.” the expressions on his face are so endearing to you. the pout of his lips. the way his bambi eyes widen when he says certain words. when he closes them and tilts his head to the side with a bunny smile while saying that he’s happy.

“i get the same feeling very often, too. i think you can tell when it happens.” you chuckle, hiding your face in your hands in embarrassment.

“is it when you ask me if we can take a bath together just so i’d wash your hair?” he teases, having done exactly that the night before.

you groan, lightly hitting his chest. “you volunteer to do that!”

“but baby, that’s the point.” he jokingly slaps his hand on his forehead and shakes his head in fake disappointment.

“well you also asked me to shave your stubble this morning, so what’s your point?”

his laughter tickles your ears. it’s one of his rare laughs, louder and deeper than the usual. “the point is! we’re just as crazy for each other, baby!” he grabs your face to give you a smooch on the lips, the ‘mwah’ sound so clearly pronounced. it makes the two of you laugh that you almost cry.

god, how you wish you could’ve captured that moment to watch over and over again until you get sick of it. (the truth is you’d watch it forever if it was up to you because no way you’re ever getting sick of it, but for the sake of sounding sane, let’s pretend that you someday would.)

—

you’re laying comfortably without saying anything, squished between jungkook and the couch. you believe the mutual love you have for the rain binds you two together. why else would you be tangled with each other while watching the heavy rain blur the giant window of your living room? the small potted plants sitting on the windowsill are watching with you in pure tranquility, you can tell.

can you believe the clouds have been carrying that much water all this time? it must’ve been hard. oh, the poor clouds.

you think about the soil of the earth. oh, how dearly welcoming they are of the shattered pieces of raindrops. they embrace them all oh so tight until they become one and inseparable. you adore how the soil turns shades darker when it gets wet; how the color gradually spreads; how they come to be more alive. so warm, so comforting to admire the nature like this. to know that they love as humans do makes you want to love much harder.

“i’m craving something, but i can’t put my finger on it.” jungkook is the first to speak after more than twenty minutes of only the sound of rain stimulating your ears.

“jeon?” you take a guess. eyes still focused on the raindrops racing down the glass.

“hmm, no.”

“kalguksu?”

“no.”

“sujebi? ramyeon?”

he heaves a sigh. “noooo.”

“drinks, maybe? makgeolli?”

“still no. but that sounds nice right now.”

you grow silent as you try to think of other food he would usually crave when it rains. moments later, you feel his teeth softly biting the fleshy part of your palm below the thumb. not again.

you look up to him, eyes blinking in disbelief. “jungkook, i hate to break this to you but . . . i’m not edible.”

he pulls away, face feigning innocence. “that doesn’t explain why you taste so sweet.” and bites again, letting his teeth sink a little deeper this time.

“that’s because i don’t.”

he pulls away again. “i’m the one who had you in my mouth. you can’t tell me otherwise.”

you roll your eyes and make a face. he is about to bite you again when it hits him. sweet. and soft. marshmallows? hmm, no- oh wait-

he dramatically gasps, leaning forward and leaving only a few inches of distance between your faces. “baby, s’mores. i’m craving s’mores.”

“what?” your eyebrows knit together, before a smile forms on your lips. “s’mores out of nowhere?”

“i want some so bad.” he whines, head falling back to the pillow in distress. it isn’t exactly advisable to drive in the pouring rain just to buy a bag of marshmallows. the pieces of wood in the backyard are most likely wet from the rain, too.

“okay, get up.” you order him, patting the side of his ass.

“do you need to pee? i’ll come with you.”

you look at him as if he just grew two heads. boys like tagging along to the bathroom too? okay. new information encoded.

you boop his nose, feeling very much endeared with your boyfriend. “i’ll make you s’mores, silly.“

“huh? how?”

“just get up and come with me in the kitchen.” you push him lightly, and the lower half of his body slowly slides down the couch until he’s sitting on his ass on the floor. you slide your feet into your fluffy slippers because the kitchen floor is cold. he watches your every movement, sitting there lost and confused.

“meanie!” he yells out before standing up to follow you to the kitchen, careful not to slip with his socks on. when he arrives, you’re already standing on a chair from the dinner table set, pulling out a large bag of marshmallows from the top cabinet.

he stands beside the chair as you chew on a marshmallow, clearly feeling very pleased with the sugar playing with your taste buds. you feed him a yellow one, which he accepts with a glare. you smile at him innocently, stuffing his mouth with another.

“you’ve been hiding this from me?” his voice comes out muffled, the mallows making his rosy cheeks look extra soft and puffy.

his accusation leaves you offended. “do you really think i’d hide something here? i’m smarter than that!”

“that’s the point! you know nobody opens the top cabinets. there’s nothing in there because you can’t reach.” you purse your lips to contain your giggles. his mouth full of mallows and his wild hand gestures make it impossible for you to take him seriously.

you click your tongue, hiding the bag on your back. “so do you want s’mores or not?”

“i want.” he answers right away, sounding almost sad. you pat his head as a silent way to say good boy before turning around and hopping down the chair.

jungkook follows you to the stove animatedly, and his face brightens up when he realizes what you’re about to do. “you’re using the stove as fire?!”

“what else would i use it for, dummy?” you turn it on at low setting, and then insert the stick on a marshmallow. you start to roast it over the small fire exactly how you would if you were out camping in the middle of nowhere.

“is this safe?”

“i’ve been doing it since i was eight. and i’m healthy and alive.” you blow out the fire that got caught on it. “say ahhh.” he obeys, closing his lips around the stick and pulling out the marshmallow. it immediately melts and the delicious taste he has been desperately craving goes off like fireworks in his mouth.

“i’ll bring the graham crackers and nutella.” he gives you another quick kiss on the lips before he moves around the kitchen looking for them. you taste the marshmallow when you lick your lips after.

“baby, bring the chair too, please?”

he comes back with the graham crackers and the jar of nutella sitting on the chair he is carrying. “where do i put this?” you move to the side and point to the space infront of the stove. he sets it down there before hopping on the counter hugging his beloved food. you, on the other hand, climbs on the chair and sits down squatting. you’re on the perfect level as the stove.

and you spend the afternoon like that, you roasting marshmallows while jungkook is waiting with a graham cracker between his teeth. he bites down on it and takes the marshmallow from your stick before licking the spoon of nutella.

you’re too preoccupied with making sure the marshmallow you give him won’t burn his tongue to notice the red hearts replacing your boyfriend’s irises. you make him fall in love with you deeper and deeper without even realizing it. how do you endlessly find ways to make him happy? it doesn’t matter how small or big your gestures are, because the fact that it comes so naturally to you is what he appreciates the most.

the rain hasn’t stopped. you watch it pour from the window that stretches all the way to the both sides of the wall (it was your special request. you love seeing nature while doing whatever is that you’re doing. curtains exist anyway). the golden bell tree in your backyard stands out in the dull ambiance looming over the town. you notice the low area on the right side of the garden is almost completely submerged in brown water.

“we need to buy more garden soil.” you remind your boyfriend.

he peeks outside the window and makes a noise of vexation. “we do. let’s fix it together next weekend.”

when he looks back, a roasted marshmallow is already waiting for him to be devoured. “you should have some too, my love.” he holds your wrist and guides it into your mouth, and then feeds you a piece of graham cracker he dipped in the nutella jar. you give him a pleased smile, munching on the sweet treat with sheer delight.

he smooths down your hair affectionately before reaching down to give a tender kiss to your cheek. “you have never done anything to me that was not good. i love you.” you lean against his touch, savoring his natural warmth. his words tug at your heartstrings until you feel your heart get stuck in your throat.

“i love you more.”

they say that the most beautiful memories from your life flash before your eyes moments before you die. and you just know this memory in particular would be one of them. you wish you could relive this one day - the overflowing sincerity of his voice, the warmth of his hand, the sweet scent of the dessert, the rain knocking on the roof and the windows. god, even the piece of marshmallow stuck between your lower gums and teeth, and the feeling of your ankles getting painfully numb from your position. you want it all. all over again. one more time. one last time.

jungkook offers you a bite of the first proper sandwich he made, and he pulls it away until the line of melted marshmallow caught between your lips breaks. along with it, your resolve snaps into ruins. tears slide down your cheeks one by one. unstoppable.

your sniffles catch his attention in no second. he drops the half eaten sandwich on the plate and hops down the counter. without any struggle, he carries you to replace your spot on the chair. he places you on his lap to hold you as close as possible.

“baby, baby wha-” he pauses for a second to turn off the stove. it would be really bad if your hair gets burnt.

“what’s wrong, hmm? talk to me, please.” he brushes away the strands of hair blocking your face, tucking them behind your ear.

“i’m just- i never believed i’d ever get to a point in my life where i’d feel this happy and content.” you bite your lower lip harshly in a futile attempt to stop your tears. you’re being too dramatic, you scold yourself internally. “and lately, i’ve been feeling like everything will slip between the gaps of my fingers soon. and i just really don’t want that to happen.”

jungkook’s heart drops to his stomach. you used to reject the idea of happiness in your life, but over time you’ve learned how to welcome it with open arms. he was right by your side when you were still learning how to break down the walls you built yourself. and he realizes that this time around, you’re terrified of losing the happiness that took you a long time to be allowed to have.

he says your name softly, breathing out a sigh. “i can’t promise you things like this or that will never happen, because life is complicated and unpredictable. i can only promise you myself. that you will always have me because i will always choose to stay. so let’s stay here, okay? let’s not think about the past or the future. let’s live in the today and savor every moment gifted to us. let’s say what we want to say. let’s do what we want to do. so that we only have good memories to keep and no regrets to dwell on.”

you nod your head repeatedly, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand.

“i want nothing more in the world than for you to be happy for a long, long time.” he tells you quietly, like a handwritten confession he’s been keeping in his pocket for years. he takes over wiping your tears, gingerly caressing your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.

“you’ve been making me happy for a long, long time. i love you. i really do.” you swallow thickly, softly pushing his hands away.

he pouts. “i love you more. let me wipe away your tears.” but you push them away again.

“give me something to wipe my snot with first maybe.”

“ah, my baby is feeling better now. here, use my shirt.” he offers the bottom of his shirt with a wide grin, and you shoot him a glare. “what? don’t worry. i’ll do the laundry as the laundry fairy.”

you get on your feet and use the box of tissue sitting on the corner of the counter to blow your nose on instead. he follows you again, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning his chin on your shoulder while you do your business. he hums a random love song, slowly swaying your bodies from side to side.

when his eyes stray outside, he sees that the backyard is getting flooded. yeah, i need to work on that as soon as possible.

“i want more s’mores.” you say after tossing the dirty tissues in the bin.

“i’ll make them for you, baby.” you feel his lips briefly press against the skin of your neck, before he tugs at your hand and hoists you up on the counter by the waist. you swing your feet back and forth in the air.

“i’ll start making dinner too. kalguksu?” he inquires, and you agree with his choice. he also craves it after all. he turns on both spots of the stove and gets to work, roasting marshmallows for you while he waits for the dish to cook.

“we’re not allowed to consume sugar in the next two weeks.” you gulp down a tall glass of cold water after telling jungkook that you’ve had enough.

he winces. “isn’t two weeks a bit too long?”

“thirteen days then.”

“ah, yes, thirteen. our lucky number. that should do.”

you narrow your eyes. him agreeing right away is suspicious . . .

“i’ll be hiding the marshmallows for real this time.”

his shoulders visibly drop. “twelve days?”

“no.”

a bolt of lightning rips through the grey sky, making the ground vibrate from its extremely loud scream. you flinch in fear and shock, your heart almost jumping out of your chest.

“you have angered the sugar gods!”

“jungkook, it’s not funny!”

[luvth0t]

DEVIL’S ADVOCATE ━ M.V

in which max isn’t happy you were alongside lewis instead of him after the events of monza.

warnings; toxic max kinda but not really? possessive max, oral sex, degrading, choking, spanking, face fucking, thigh riding, orgasm denial iDK ITS ROUGH SMUT, it’s unedited cause i’m lazy

you loved your job, more than anything. it had brought you countless opportunities, friends, experiences. being lewis hamilton’s pr manager would seem daunting to most, but it was much easier than dealing with the younger drivers.

lewis knew how to handle himself, you weren’t glued to his side every press conference or prepping him before every interview. obviously there were instances where you would, if anything had happened or if there was a major talking point. but he was an experienced driver and knew how to tackle most situations.

that didn’t mean you got to slack off, but you enjoyed the privileges of the job for sure. you’d be stupid not to with all the travel and time away from home that comes with it.

you had met so many people, made so many friends. lewis being one of them; rumours flew of some sort of romance between the two of you a couple of summers ago but you were both quick to shut those down. you saw him as a close friend, as he did you. not speaking much during the off season yet there was a level of trust there.

another perk of the job was meeting him.

max verstappen, lewis’s latest rival; the dutch driver who you coincidentally happened to have wrapped around your finger.

it all started one night in monaco; a few days after the race you had stuck around to experience the luxurious city. a drunken night at a club resulted in you ending up in the drivers bed.

while you knew who he was, obviously, he had not recognised your face. too drunk to ask about your profession, and you too drunk to tell him; it would be an understatement to say you were freaking out when you woke up to hickeys covering your body and him beside you.

it wasn’t the fact he was literally the face of your bosses biggest rival, it was the fear of him seeing you in the paddock and recognising you.

which happened only a few weeks later, in hungary. he thought he was hallucinating when he spotted your face outside the mercedes garage, the girl who had quite literally blown his mind all those nights ago.

while he had hoped to see you again, he thought it was an off chance and the possibility of it was slim to none in his eyes. yet there you were, dressed in black and teal speaking with toto in what appeared to be a casual conversation.

he was shocked to say the least, and when your eyes met his you were ready for him to accuse you of stalking him maybe? avoidance? you didn’t know what to expect, maybe he wouldn’t even remember you? who knows how many girls he sleeps with.

how that day actually ended was you on your knees in his motor home, your mercedes shirt tossed aside and on the floor alongside any loyalty.

since then it’s been a whirlwind of sneaking around, sleeping together and enjoying each other’s company. you weren’t dating, it was more of a friends with benefits situation. but the benefits seemed to have grown over the past few months compared to when it was just sex when this all started a year ago.

with it came challenges, especially with the on track battle between lewis and max heating up. it was definitely noticed your worry for the redbull driver during the silverstone incident, and your conflicting emotions when lewis won compared to others.

while you were more than happy that he had gotten the points and won his home race, you found yourself prioritising being able to see max for yourself after his crash. which wasn’t possible until your work was done.

since then things had eased up, the summer break certainly helping. but then came monza. the pair having crashed again and you were once again left with conflicting emotions.

worried sick for lewis like everyone else was in the garage, you hadn’t left his side the remainder of the afternoon and evening. not only did this mean a busy week work wise with dealing with the press and the soon to come onslaught of questions, lewis was your close friends and you always wanted to make sure he was okay.

because of this, your sunday and monday night was spent with lewis and on your computer, instead of your usual routine of spending that time with max. finding time together was difficult yet easy.

max never thought he’d be able to grow attached to a girl considering how often he travelled, then he found you. who was in the same place as him every weekend. it meant seeing you was no issue, kind of.

the fact the weekends were in fact jam packed, for max more so; and that eyes were everywhere and the differing uniforms were more than just an eyebrow raiser, actually being able to spend quality alone time with you had to be arranged carefully.

overtime it had become quite clear the nights after races and the monday he had off was what worked for both of you, and it had become apart of each of your routines.

but not that weekend in monza, much to max’s dismay.

“haven’t forgotten about me, have you?” max’s voice became clear as he approached you, in the paddock with a coffee in your hand; leaning against the wall of one of the many buildings.

a small smile formed on your lips as he came into view; always happy to see a familiar face, especially his.

“how could i ever?” you replied with a playful scoff, straightening your posture up as you ran a hand through your hair.

now being in sochi, you hadn’t seen him since the italian grand prix. the week off you had gone home, meaning you were on your phone as little as possible and hadn’t made any contact. not that you needed to. it was quite clear the two of you only got together on race weekends, when it was convenient. it hadn’t branched out of this environment.

“missed you in monza, that’s all,” he shrugged with a small hum; his arms moving to cross over his chest. he was dressed in his race suit, it hanging off his hips lightly, his drink bottle in his right hand. practice was in just over an hour so you were pretty sure he had spotted you on the way to the redbull garage.

you pursed your lips when he mentioned monza, only then noticing his features were missing his usual smile; you hadn’t yet heard his laugh which always made an appearance in your presence, and his tone was not as soft as it usually is.

“yes, i don’t know if you heard but lewis was involved in a crash; meaning my workload piled up,” you spoke sarcastically; giving an explanation which you thought was obvious as to why you had to pull out on seeing him that night.

max still wasn’t amused however. from being on a great position on sunday, to crashing into lewis, getting a penalty, missing out on points; max was in a sour mood that night to say the least. seeing you with lewis of all people, giving him your sympathy and your care when you should be with him only angered him further.

he didn’t have an issue with your friendship with lewis, but when his emotions were running high and the only thing he wanted was you; the knowledge you were with him was a tough pill to swallow considering the circumstances.

“didn’t know all your work had to be done by his side,” max couldn’t help but mutter; his childish side coming out to play as he shrugged, eyebrows slightly raised. of course he was jealous. he wanted to be the one you were supporting. he wanted you to be there waiting for him and telling him that it’s just a race, that these things happen. instead you were saying all of that to the guy he crashed into.

you finally understood what was going on, and couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “you’re jealous?” you pointed out, simply speaking your thoughts. “max a tire ran over his head, i couldn’t leave him to deal with the questions and media preparations by himself; he was shaken up. plus he is my friend.” you chimed.

“so what if i am?” he huffed in response to your question about his jealousy, ignoring your rational explanation because he didn’t want to hear it. he wasn’t accusing you of anything, he was just playing the pity card because he didn’t get what he wanted that weekend. then lewis took the one thing that would’ve boosted his mood.

you looked up at him expectantly, waiting to see if he was actually serious; his expression not changing showed you he was, causing you to let out a small sigh. “then you’re stupid. because i was simply doing my job.” you hummed, bringing your coffee to your lips.

max face had now softened slightly, not completely however. he rolled his eyes when you called him stupid, but didn’t interject because he knew you were correct. but it’s not his fault he had grown so attached to you. your comfort was unbeatable and it turns out he needed it more than he thought.

“i wanted to see you.” he simplified his thoughts, his hand stuffing his drink bottle into his pocket; it hanging out the side and falling a few seconds later, but he didn’t care as his hands had found your hips, face leaning in closer to yours.

you bit down on your bottom lip when he noticeably moved closer to you, managing to remain eye contact. which was sometimes a struggle during intimate moments with him, well more so leading up because he got you flustered so quickly.

“you could’ve answered my text then,” you spoke; it being your turn to mention what you weren’t too pleased with him for the chaotic week.

you had texted him after the race, obviously. you wouldn’t just not check to see how he was. even though it was quite clear he was fine. he hadn’t responded, which didn’t matter much to you because you could only assume his messages would be full.

but if he wants to play the innocent card then you’d happily bring it up.

“a lot of people texted me schatje,” the brunette hummed in a matter of fact tone as his head dipped, his lips brushing against the skin of your neck lightly causing goosebumps to form on your skin.

you rolled your eyes at his cockiness, despite knowing he was telling the truth; you could feel the smugness oozing off of him. and while you acted like it annoyed you, you secretly loved it.

“max someone will see,” you spoke up when he began to leave a few more kisses along your neck, his grip on your hips having tightened and backed you up towards the wall.

“good.” he grumbled against your soft skin, nipping at it lightly which dragged a small gasp out of your lips. your eyes darting around to see if anyone had walked by. knowing that easily anyone could come around the corner and see you both.

“i will lose my job,” you added on through gritted teeth as if he had forgotten, yet made no movements to push him away as you were very much enjoying his lips on your skin, and his hands on you; noticing how they moved up your waist and underneath your shirt.

“fine with that too.” max shrugged carelessly, yet pulled away from you regardless, however there was still minimal distance between the pair of you as his lips practically hovered against your own, hands still holding on to you.

your eyes pouring into his with many different emotions, as if to say ‘are you serious?’ and ‘kiss me.’ at once. because both were appropriate.

“you’ve got to get to practice.” you reminded him; allowing your fingers to find the hem of his long sleeve shirt beneath his drivers suit near the neck, straightening it out slightly with a small smile pulling on your lips. a teasing smile.

“i have time to spare. are you trying to get rid of me?” he asked, playfully now as he finally cracked a small smile; enjoying one of the few moments he could be close to you out in the open. and in max’s eyes if toto, lewis or any mercedes staff happened to stumble across the pair of you he wouldn’t mind. he’d love it actually, if it didn’t bring you stress. but it would.

“no. i’m trying to make sure you don’t do anything stupid because of your childish jealousy,” you rolled your eyes another time, withdrawing your hands from him as you quickly leant up to press a short kiss to his lips, having checked the coast was clear before hand.

this had his smile growing, getting the reassurance he needed. for now. “fine. but you’re all mine after 4. no matter what happens, you hear me?” he practically demanded as his fingers found your chin; holding your face up lightly to look at him.

his eyes had visibly darkened as his question came out more as a demand that didn’t need an answer, which had you squeezing your thighs together just at the thought of what might occur once practice was over and everyone was free to go.

“all yours,” you confirmed; a small smirk forming on your lips, which had him tempted to take you right here and right now. he composed himself however, tearing his hand away from yours and being quick to spin on his feet and leave the way he came; only then you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

━

practice went well, not that you could tell too much; the technical side of things and what the engineers and mechanics were looking out for during the practice sessions meant to nothing to you; while you understood all the basics, the discussion in the garage were next level. but you could easily catch the vibe and it was positive throughout the mercedes garage.

currently going through post practice interviews, you were by lewis’s side as he moved from interviewer to interviewer amongst other drivers and team representatives.

like usual you weren’t doing too much, lewis having this under control and the pair of your already going through some generic answers to questions that may come up. more so things he shouldn’t say, not that you ever tell him to not say things; the team definitely does and it’s your job to help ensure he can work around restrictions and still be authentic. which he does just fine.

“it’s going to rain in no time,” lewis commented as the pair of you left the press area; your head nodding as you both came to a stop to wait for a few mercedes team members to come over for a debrief. stupid routines and policies in place of course.

“surprised it held off, glad you got a whole session in.” you hummed in agreement as your eyes turned up to look at the dark clouds; lewis nodding in agreement, the small talk coming naturally to both of you.

“you got anything planned tonight? i’m going out for dinner with angela and a few of the guys, you should come along.” lewis smiled as he invited you out; he was always one to include others. which made it so easy to be his friend, he could easily act above everyone but he didn’t.

it was almost comical that as he spoke your eyes had wandered around and landed on a certain dutch driver, who was already looking your way. except his blue eyes were to your left, intensely watching the interaction between the pair of you. the wide smile on both of your faces, how close the pair of you stood to each other.

he couldn’t do anything about it is what annoyed him, the fact he could only watch was the issue. not you two speaking about god knows what.

“i’d love to but i’ve got a stack of emails i’d much rather get done before sunday,” you smiled, politely declining. you weren’t completely lying. but that’s not why you weren’t going to entertain the idea of dinner.

“all good, hopefully we can make up for it on sunday with the whole team instead.” he grinned, winking playfully as you let out a small laugh and nodded your head as he implied a mercedes win.

to max it looked more like a flirtatious interaction than discussing work, but max was almost bias from his petty thoughts and habit of jumping to conclusions. it wasn’t too much of a secret that certain situations could get his anger rising quickly. this happened to be one of them.

he controlled himself though, focusing on the next interview he was dragged along too, well focusing as much as he could. his mind still burning with the picture of you and lewis in his head.

it had been another half an hour until you were free to go, debrief with lewis and the head of PR before a debrief with the whole PR team, which passed by quickly as everything had ran smoothly.

you were free to do whatever until tomorrow, yet the expected text from max stating he was waiting for you meant you wouldn’t be leaving the track anytime soon; on your way to his motor home.

the second you had opened the door he had you pushed up against it to slam it shut again, his lips on yours before you could even take in his appearance. although you were pretty sure he was yet to change out of his drivers suit.

the rough kiss had you weak at the knees as you desperately kissed back the second you had gathered yourself. his large hands held a tight hold on your waist, until he felt your hands push up on to his chest. despite loving the feeling of your hands on him, he had different plans for tonight.

grasping your wrists in his hands, he was quick to raise your arms above your head and away from him; hesitantly pulling his lips away from yours. you frowned when he stopped you from touching him, and stopped kissing you; searching his face for an answer.

“you’re in for it tonight prinses,” he spoke in a low whisper as he took a few moments to admire your pretty face. his clenched jaw, sharp tone and dark eyes had you realising he was still hanging on to his petty jealousies; but in the moment you didn’t mind. it excited you more so. “you’re going to do what i say, and let me ruin this pussy, my pussy, whatever way i please; because you’re mine, yeah? and only i know how to make you scream.” he added as he shoved his knee between your legs to make you spread them.

your cheeks had flushed red at this point, feeling completely at his mercy with your hands above your head and his thigh between your legs; meaning you couldn’t squeeze your thighs together for some sort of relief to deal with the arousal building as his words rung through your ears.

“yeah,” you mumbled just loud enough for him to hear; pursing your lips together in thought for a few seconds; for some reason seeing him so worked up over basically nothing had you wanting to push him further. “lewis probably could too though,” the words left your mouth without a second thought; your innocent eyes not enough to disguise the intention of your words.

it was quite obvious lewis was what this was all about, and the idea of max making you regret your words only excited you and added to the wetness between your legs.

max wasn’t amused, well aware you were attempting to get on his nerves and it worked regardless. his hand moving up to grab your throat suddenly, applying the perfect amount of pressure as your head hit the door behind you lightly. “you wanna repeat that?”

a gasp had left your lips when he had suddenly choked you, your lips now apart as you had no choice but to stare back at him, tongue grazing over your teeth. part of you now was saying maybe apologise and back out, but where was the fun in being obedient?

“i said, lewis probably could too,” you managed to repeat yourself; almost stuttering, breathing out your words with a bit of difficulty because of the pleasing feeling off his fingers around your neck.

he was silent for a few moments, it being clear he was thinking. you were worried for a second you may have pushed too far and he’d leave you worked up with nothing at all. but you were reassured that wasn’t the case when his hand tightened its grip slightly.

“was going to make you cum over and over again until you were crying but now i think i’d much rather edge you until you’re begging me to stop,” was all he said before his lips were back on yours, giving you no time to complain about his plans.

you thought the kiss before was rough, but this one somehow topped it. the kiss eager and desperate as his hands left your wrists and neck, mumbling a ‘leave them there’ against your pink lips, causing you to whine into the kiss as his hands began to roam your body.

he felt deprived of touching you after only two weeks apart and he was making up for it right now, fingers finding the hem of your shirt and tugging it over your head swiftly, discarding the mercedes merch carelessly and not letting it interrupt the make out session any longer than needed.

you were struggling to keep your hands off of him, wanting nothing more than to tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him closer, run them over his toned chest or down his biceps. but you weren’t going to dig yourself a deeper hole.

you moaned against his lips when his knee pushed up into your core, your hips bucking against him in response. you could make out a muffled chuckle from him but ignored it, he was well aware how needy he made you. which should be enough to realise he had no need to worry about other guys, including lewis.

but max was a jealous guy. he wouldn’t deny it.

“get on your knees,” he demanded breathlessly after pulling away from the heated kiss, his lips slightly swollen just like yours. “gonna put that mouth to use considering you wanna keep running it like a fucking brat,”

you didn’t need to hear anything more as you were quick to drop to your knees; your hands moving behind you to rid yourself of your bra while doing so, watching as max tugged the race suit further down his hips and then his pants to reveal his hardened cock, watching as it slapped his stomach.

he looked at you expectantly, taking in the sight which had him wanting to forget everything he said and just fuck the shit out of you. but he was determined tonight he’d actually go through with his words and make you somewhat suffer. denying you of an orgasm all night wouldn’t be the case, because pleasuring you pleasured him. but he wasn’t going to go easy on you.

your hand moved to wrap around his length, but he was quick to tsk, drawing your eyes back up to him. “no hands. just your mouth.” he clarified, raising his eyebrows to see if you’d question him. and you held back the want to roll your eyes at his smugness, but listened regardless, moving to put your hands behind your back as you took him in your mouth.

you wanted to pout over still not being able to touch him but you knew that wouldn’t last the whole time, instead focusing on pleasing him the best you could. high hopes that a good blowjob could help you get back into the good books.

you looked up through your eye lashes as you began bobbing your head up and down, taking as much of him in as you could, watching as his head fell back and his lips parted; a deep groan following.

you pushed yourself further after this, like always. how could you not when he looked like that above you? eager to pull more moans out of him as you swirled your tongue around him perfectly, as if you were an expert at this.

his hands came to grasp your hair, pushing it out of your face and giving him a grip on your head. “so fucking good liefje, mouth was fuckin’ made for me.” he grunted as he tugged your hair lightly, causing you to moan around his cock as you sucked him off.

it felt slightly unnatural without your hands to hold on to his thigh or to jack off what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, but never the less you were doing pretty damn well like always. as proven by the moans and grunts falling from max’s lips.

he was glad to just have you again after two weeks without. two weeks used to be nothing but now was too long in his eyes to be away from you.

you had released him from your mouth to catch your breath, spitting on his cock and swirling your tongue around his tip for a few moments as you did so before taking him all in again; his eyes staring down at you because the sight was one he always made the most of.

“gonna fuck your face; take it like a good slut yeah? i know you can,” he soon breathed out, his tone somewhat soft compared to before despite his words. however the degradation had your thighs squeezing together once again.

you hummed out around him, attempting to nod your head. he had waited for the confirmation, despite knowing you were fine with it as he had before; he always liked to make sure. he knew your limits, which you loved. he’d always push you to the edge whereas others couldn’t. he knew what you liked as you did him.

his grip on your hair tightened as one of his hands moved to cup your cheek roughly, before his hips started to thrust lightly into your mouth; pushing himself further down your throat.

his moans increased while you forced your eyes to stay open and watch him, admiring the way his muscles flexed and his lips parted from the pleasure. his tip hitting the back of your throat repeatedly had your eyes beginning to water as you gagged around him, taking it none the less.

your lips were now a mess, saliva and pre-cum falling down onto your chin as he paused for a few moments to let you breathe. the second you had somewhat composed yourself he was thrusting into your mouth again, harder and deeper this time.

your name alongside many pet names and curses filled the room alongside his moans, feeling him twitch in your mouth a few moments later before he released down your throat.

your hands were behind your back and pressing against the wall to help with your balance as he soon pulled out of your mouth, a couple of tears having escaped your eyes from the face fucking.

“fuck you’re good at that,” max mumbled as he breathed heavily, coming down from his high meaning he couldn’t help but praise you; looking down at you.

your hands had moved to wipe the corners of your mouth and chin as you looked up at him, cheeks flushed, lips red and your hair already messy. yet you looked better than ever.

he suddenly had you on your feet again, his hands helping you up as you placed your hands on his chest to stop yourself from toppling over. too impressed with his orgasm he didn’t stop you from touching him this time.

“what to do with you, hm?” he smirked as his hand trailed to the waistband of your pants; easily slipping under them and under your lace thong to cup your wet cunt, his smirk only growing when his suspicions that you were aroused were confirmed. “so needy and i’ve barely touched you prinses,” he commented; a small moan escaping your lips as his fingers brushed over your clit.

his hand was gone before you knew it, your bottom lip between your teeth as you stopped yourself from huffing and pouting. any other night you would’ve pushed him onto the sofa behind him and taken charge, as you didn’t have much patience.

but he was in charge right now and you were loving it, how could you not? his hands found your hips again as he dragged you with him to the sofa, taking a seat before his hands tugged your pants down your legs; you being sure to help him slip them off of you completely.

“you’re gonna ride my thigh,” he suddenly spoke up as he tugged you down onto his lap, yet you were only straddling one of his legs instead of both; your eyebrows furrowing as you looked to him for confirmation that you had heard right. “if you wanna cum tonight you better work for it, don’t think you deserve my fingers or tongue baby.” he explained.

you pursed your lips as you blushed intensely, you had never done this before; not even with him and while hesitant your need to get off will probably take priority. and it did when his hands guided your hips to grind against his clothed thigh.

a moan fell from your lips quickly after the much needed friction, your hands moving to rest on his chest. the second the pleasure had started you had no issue in grinding your hips against his thigh, needy for whatever he’d give you.

soft moans started to fall as his hands hovered over your hips, watching you intently. enjoying seeing you get off from just his thigh; admiring the way your face scrunched up and contorted in pleasure.

“look at you,” he spoke up as his hand grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him once again. your cheeks felt as if they were on fire, red from embarrassment yet you were still dragging your clit on the material of his driver’s suit shamelessly. definitely going to leave a wet patch but max didn’t mind. “getting off on just my thigh huh, making a mess? such a fucking needy slut,” he repeated; tensing his leg and bouncing it lightly which caused a louder moan.

you were already a whimpering and moaning mess, getting yourself off yet not enough to come close to an orgasm; in a state of limbo where you were desperate for more. nodding at his words and humming in reply, small whines following.

eventually max conceded and let go of one of your hips to find your clit, helping rub quick circles as you continued to move your hips back and forth; your head falling back as you struggled to keep up the pace.

offering further assistance his other hand guided your hips again; causing you to moan his name as you now quite quickly felt your high approaching.

he read you perfectly, he knew how your body worked and the second he picked up you were about to cum his fingers had left your clit, returned to your hip and had lifted your hips enough to remove any contact.

“no, please,” you whined out as you felt the familiar feeling disappear into nothing, your legs squirming and hips bucking to try gain some sort of contact or friction, only to be met with nothing.

he had a cruel smirk on his face as he watched you squirm. while he too wanted to see you come undone on his thigh, he was not letting you off that easy. he wanted to remind you who could get you like this.

“patience love; you brought this on yourself,” he reminded you; his lips lazily pressing a few kisses to your neck, sure enough to leave hickeys which will be a chore for you tomorrow morning.

the second you had come down from your almost high he had flipped you on your back, moving to settle between your legs. he pushed your legs apart, and when you attempted to squeeze them together again due to being sensitive from before, he laid a small slap to your inner thigh.

you let out a small moan at that before he grabbed your thighs and held them apart himself, not giving you any warning before diving into your cunt with his tongue.

“oh god,” you moaned out as he caught you off guard, not expecting him to eat you out right now, the feeling of his tongue between your folds and swirling your clit having your back arch up off the couch.

his grip tightened on your thighs as he relentlessly sucked and licked at your clit, before delving into your entrance every now and then; rotating to ensure you couldn’t get use to anything.

“max please, fuck,” you moaned out; legs already shaking again due to having just come down from almost cumming; unsure of what you were pleading for. probably for him to let you finish this time.

he managed to hold your legs still despite them trying to wrap around his head, your fingers moving to tangle in his hair; your eyes screwing shut.

his tongue was doing a number on you like always, and you felt yourself approaching your high already. you weren’t ashamed it had approached so quick, as it was expected considering he had just denied you of an orgasm not even 5 minutes ago.

but you attempted to hold it off and hide it so he wouldn’t pull away, not sure if you could handle going through it again as your whole body began to shake.

he noticed, eyes glancing up at you with amusement clear on his face. “don’t you dare,” was all he warned you; which had a whine leaving your lips as he didn’t give up on pleasuring you, a gasp being heard when he nibbled on your sensitive bud very lightly before continuing to suck on it.

“i can’t, max; fuck, please,” you stuttered out; unsure if your words were even audible as you tugged on his hair lightly. he gave your inner thigh another harsh slap but you couldn’t even feel it with the orgasm you were so desperately trying to hold off.

you were about to let go, at your absolute limit. but he beat you to it, his tongue and mouth leaving you to clench around nothing as he held your thighs even wider apart; watching as you shook and cried out at another ruined orgasm.

“no, no, no. please,” you moaned; it feeling even more disappointing this time as you squirmed in desperation; your hands leaving his hair as he sat up on his knees, a hum leaving his lips.

“i wouldn’t have to treat you like a brat if you didn’t act like one y/n,” the dutch man spoke, leaning to hover over you; his fingers coming up to tenderly wipe a couple of tears that had escaped your eyes again from the overwhelming pleasure.

legs still shaking and your breathing heavy, you watched him. “m’ sorry,” you managed to speak out; a frown on your face as your hand moved to rest on his chest. “please just fuck me; please? i need you,” you practically begged.

his cocky smile returned, you didn’t even need to beg because he was always going to make sure you left here satisfied. he always did. and you knew it too, you were loving every minute of it because you knew the second he did make you cum it was going to be all that better.

but the desperation you were feeling right now was unmatched and in the moment it had you a complete horny mess.

“no need to stress schatje, i’m gonna fuck you now,” he had mumbled softly, knowing he didn’t need to push you any further. he repositioned you once again, having you on your knees and facing the back of the sofa as he stood behind you.

his hands rid your almost ruined panties with ease, simply ripping the thin material in half. you were too aroused to care, hands gripping onto the back of the sofa as you waited in anticipation.

his hands grabbed at the skin of your ass, taking a few moments to admire the view once again; squeezing the skin before delivering a harsh spank.

it had you jolting forward as a small gasp that turned into a moan left your lips, taking a deep breath at the feeling of his hands roaming your skin.

spreading your cheeks, he quite suddenly thrusted inside of your cunt with ease; having grown hard once again practically since the moment you were riding his thigh.

you both moaned in sync, your hands gripping onto the sofa tighter as you let out a small whimper as he gave you a couple of seconds to adjust to his size. it didn’t take long for him to be thrusting in and out of you quickly however.

even just from the penetration you felt relief wash over your body when you were finally getting pleasured again, your head falling forward as soft moans and whimpers left your lips; biting down harshly on your bottom lip to try contain yourself.

“don’t you dare try keep quiet,” max was quick to notice your actions; speaking through gritted teeth as his hand left your hip to tangle in your hair, tugging it backwards so your head tilted back and your chest lifted so you were closer to him; a louder moan leaving your lips at this from the pain that twisted into pleasure.

there shouldn’t be anyone around but the thought still lingered in your mind, however now that he had told you to not keep quiet you were quick to let the moans leave your lips carelessly.

“always taking me so well prinses. tell me who this pussy belongs to huh?” he whispered into your ear, a few of him own moans and groans being heard through out as he pounded you roughly; hitting the perfect spot inside of you.

“you max. only you.” you moaned out in response, whimpering when you felt his lips on the back of your neck; sucking and nibbling at the skin. “oh god; all yours, fuck, please,” you continued to ramble, not sure if you were making sense as you felt yourself approach the familiar state for the third time.

“that’s right, all mine.” he grunted as he harshly thrusted in and out of you; his hand leaving your hair to snake around your waist and find your clit, beginning to rub quick and small circles again.

your head fell forward, unable to keep yourself up as your eyes screwed shut; already seeing stars as you felt yourself clench around his cock.

he groaned louder this time, delivering another slap to your ass which was only met with a moan of appreciation from you. causing him to do it again, his other hand still overstimulating your clit.

“i’m gonna cum m-max, please.” you moaned out; stuttering as your back arched as you pushed back against him, clenching around his cock once more as you tried to stop yourself from just cumming right now.

“hold it baby, i know you can. be a good little slut for me for just a little longer,” he spoke lowly; giving your ass a small squeeze as he groaned loudly from the feeling of you around him.

you could only whimper in reply but managed to listen, holding off as your body began to squirm; your moans growing louder as you struggled to keep yourself up with your arms on the sofa.

max, like always, noticed this, his hand leaving your hip to grab your neck; pulling you up against his chest. you were a moaning mess at this point, so when he fastened his fingers at your clit and then whispered in your ear; you came quickly.

“cum for me prinses, go on; tell me who’s making you feel this good.”

and you did, his name being the one you moaned as you finally reached your high and most certainly the best orgasm of your life. practically going limp in his arms as your body shook lightly, feeling him release into you as well; your vision being clouded with stars.

your head had fell back to rest on his shoulder, and after a few moments of you both trying to catch your breath, max pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of your lips.

by the time you had recovered you were sat on the sofa in his shirt, your cheeks still flushed red, hair messy and your eyelids heavy. watching him as he cleaned up the piles of both your discarded clothes.

“you okay?” he spoke in your direction, causing a lazy laugh to leave your lips, yawning as you rested your head on the arm rest; eyes not leaving him.

“i’m fine.” you spoke with a small smile. “more than fine, just tired.” you couldn’t help but giggle, watching as his cocky smile tugged on his lips yet again. “you really don’t have anything to worry about though, you know that right?” you couldn’t help but clarify.

his smile didn’t falter, meaning he was well aware he had nothing to worry about. “i know,” he chuckled; causing you to roll your eyes as he approached you, his hand coming to cup your cheek lightly. “i do know though. still doesn’t mean the thought of you with him━ well anyone, pisses me off.” he admitted sheepishly.

“hm, well if you do know and those occasional thoughts result in this i don’t think it’ll be much of an issue anyways,” you grinned; earning another small chuckle from him before he brought his lips to yours in a kiss. a soft one unlike what had started the evening, both just as good as each other however.

━

a/n: how tf do u end smut 🤨🤨 anyways hope y’all liked it pls tell me if u did cause i need validation and reassurance 😀😀😀

[rjzimmerman]

This is beyond frightening. Extreme heat over the Pacific Northwest and in Siberia, Moscow and parts of Europe (Separate articles about Siberia, Moscow and Europe linked below.) Are the politicians paying attention? Nope, or if they are, they are ignoring it.

Excerpt from this story from Earther/Gizmodo:

The West hasn’t totally cooled off, but the region has gotten a slight reprieve from the heat that has dried up reservoirs, curtailed hydropower, and otherwise wrought havoc on the megadrought-afflicted region. Unfortunately, all good(ish) things must come to an end.

The National Weather Service is warning of a “Record-Breaking and Dangerous Heatwave” hitting this weekend and early next week. Weather models are also coalescing around blistering heat. If the forecasts come to fruition, we’re not just talking about a few daily records falling here and there. We’re talking about a heat wave for the ages that could absolutely destroy all-time records from Washington to California as well as parts of Canada.

In what’s becoming an all-too-familiar pattern for those in the western half of the U.S., high pressure is expected to move in and park itself over the region in the coming days. That will usher in sunny skies and allow heat to start to build. By Sunday, a region from the Yukon to Southern California could see temperatures well above normal. The bullseye of heat will center on the Pacific Northwest where temperatures could be an eye-watering 40 degrees Fahrenheit (22 degrees Celsius) above normal.

The Euro and GFS weather models, essentially the two gold standards for forecasters, are in agreement that the magnitude of this event will be extreme. While there are some slight differences of a few degrees up or down, the overall alignment is generally a sign something very rare and serious is about to go down. Among the more disturbing numbers coming out of the models are Portland cracking 110 degrees Fahrenheit (43 degrees Celsius), a threshold the city has never breached.

Because weather doesn’t just stop at the border, the record run of heat will continue in British Columbia. There, forecasters are already anticipating that the warmest-ever June temperature for the entire province of British Columbia will likely fall.

Overnight temperatures will also remain elevated throughout the region, and all-time hot low temperatures could also be toppled as well. That’s particularly worrisome since nighttime usually offers a reprieve. In a region where air conditioning isn’t as widespread as, say, Southern California, the relentlessness of the heat coupled with a lack of cooling options could unleash a wave of heat-related illnesses.

And then, Siberia, in this story with the caption, “Ground Temperatures Hit 118 Degrees in the Arctic Circle” from Earther/Gizmodo:

Newly published satellite imagery shows the ground temperature in at least one location in Siberia topped 118 degrees Fahrenheit (48 degrees Celsius) going into the year’s longest day. It’s hot Siberia Earth summer, and it certainly won’t be the last.

While many heads swiveled to the American West as cities like Phoenix and Salt Lake City suffered shockingly hot temperatures this past week, a similar climatological aberrance unfolded on the opposite side of the world in the Arctic Circle. That’s not bizarre when you consider that the planet heating up is a global affair, one that isn’t picky about its targets. We’re all the target!

The 118-degree-Fahrenheit temperature was measured on the ground in Verkhojansk, in Yakutia, Eastern Siberia, by the European Space Agency’s Copernicus Sentinel satellites. Other ground temperatures in the region included 109 degrees Fahrenheit (43 degrees Celsius) in Govorovo and 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit (37 degrees Celsius) in Saskylah, which had its highest temperatures since 1936. It’s important to note that the temperatures being discussed here are land surface temperatures, not air temperatures. The air temperature in Verkhojansk was 86 degrees Fahrenheit (30 degrees Celsius)—still anomalously hot, but not Arizona hot.

Now Moscow and Europe, with this story with the caption, “Records crumble in Europe, Russia amid scorching heat wave” from the Washington Post:

As temperatures approach 115 degrees in the Pacific Northwest this weekend, a second regime of top-tier heat will scorch Europe amid a record-breaking heat wave. Monthly records have already fallen as highs climb to near 100 degrees in some areas, with temperatures in the Arctic Circle spiking close to 90.

Moscow and St. Petersburg soared to their highest June temperature on record Wednesday, reaching the mid-90s, while Estonia and Belarus established new all-time highs for the month this week. On Thursday, Hungary and Malta also set new June temperature records, hitting 104 degrees and 104.3 degrees.

Highs some 20 degrees or more above average currently wrap across central and Eastern Europe, with the greatest anomalies centered on Scandinavia and parts of western Russia. A second lobe of intense heat is parked over eastern Russia along the shores of the East Siberian Sea.

Exceptional heat waves, which are becoming disproportionately more significant and frequent due to human-induced climate change, are the leading cause of weather-related fatalities in most of Europe and Asia.

[queerpyracy]

In the spring of 1981 I sat sharing a 49-cent quart of beer with a friend of mine. It was about eleven o'clock in the morning in the middle of the week but neither of us had anything better to do. We were both out of work. He'd been laid off and I'd been disabled by a fall from a house roof.

From the front porch of his rented mobile home we could see across the trailer court to the creek where the willows wore their new greenery. His daughter and my son, both pre-schoolers, played on the lawn. The buzzards had returned to the valley making the arrival of the new season official and we drank and talked about the economic slump and the prospects of finding work for the summer.

"My dad told me the other night that there's a plan for this area," he said as we passed the bottle back and forth. His father was an accountant and a local business consultant. "He says the mills are going to stay shut until everyone who can afford to move leaves. The mills are all automating and whoever's left will be the people who can't go anywhere else and they'll work cheap. It's going to be like Arkansas or Mississippi around here--no more good wages."

"It wouldn't surprise me," I said, just to be agreeable, although I honestly thought I was hearing yet another conspiracy theory. Something in my tone of voice must have betrayed my doubt.

"No, really," he insisted, "I don't mean to say that this recession's all been rigged. They're just going to take advantage of it is all. The owners are all going to use it to get people to work cheap. Once everybody gets hungry enough we'll all take pay cuts just to go back to work. They're talking about 'cost-effectiveness' and 'competitive wages' and like that."

there was an inescapable logic to what he was saying, almost like an algebraic equation: Hungry people work cheap, people who work cheap go hungry.

"Well," I said, "You're probably right. I don't know. Nothing we can do about it anyway. We'll just have to wait and see how it all turns out."

#

That summer I bought a Brown Swiss milk cow named Marygold and raised flock of Rhode Island Red laying hens. Every day Mary gave about four gallons of milk and the hens laid about a dozen eggs. I began selling the milk and eggs to my friends at cost, charging enough to cover the feed but not for my labor. I found a baker who wanted raw milk and fresh eggs for his family and began bartering a dozen eggs for a loaf of bread or two loaves for a gallon of milk. I had a dozen families on my route, all friends of mine, all young, all married couples with children.

I let them have the food on credit and allowed them to pay in barter (poached venison a few times) or in food stamps when they didn't have the cash. Somehow there was always enough cash for a bale of alfalfa hay or a sack of grain when I needed it.

All this was illegal, of course, but laws aren't something you consider when you're hungry. Poor people break laws as a matter of survival, corporations break laws as a matter of business acumen. Like most of my neighbors (and all of my friends) I lived as the pettiest sort of criminal--driving without car insurance, selling raw, uninspected milk and not reporting the income, accepting food stamps without authorization, cutting firewood without a permit, eating poached salmon and venison.

It's not something I'm proud of, nor particularly ashamed of either. Pride and shame were luxuries we couldn't afford at the time. Many times the jug of milk and carton of eggs that I dropped off was all a family had to eat. We were friends. We had children. We did what we had to do to get by. Even so, most of us didn't survive with our families intact.

Robert Leo Heilman, "Getting By" from Overstory: Zero: Real Life in Timber Country

[vroomvroommbtch]

Always been you: Part 2 - DRxfem driver!reader

Masterlist

Summary: Some snuggles and some future plans are all they need as they hide from the world in their own little world.

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x fem driver!reader

Warnings: Some angst, swearing and all the fluff in the world.

Word count: 4.7k

A/N: Holy shit this took me forever. Okay, keeping it short, 246 notes on part 1? Are you all insane? Cant even start to describe how happy that makes me, so I’m just gonna say thank you! It means the world to me for real. Okay, part 3 its gonna be the last one and is on its way. Let me know what do you think that will happen?? 👀 Also should I make like a general taglist?? Let me know that too?? Kay, bye, kisses in all your foreheads and see u soon!♥️✌🏻

---

Part 2.

Everything was perfectly fine between her and Daniel. Everything was easy when they were together. Everything just worked out perfectly, as if they were just meant to be together from the beginning. Being so terrified of admitting her feelings for Daniel felt silly, and she really didn’t understand why she wasted all that time when she could have done it back then when they were teammates. It was so easy that sometimes it was scary, but she loved every single second of it. Everything was easy as it was falling in love with Daniel. She knew it was gonna happen at some point, so after so much time trying to avoid it, she finally let it flow. It happened and didn't take her by surprise at all, especially now that they were together. Besides, loving Daniel was probably the easiest thing she ever did besides driving. It felt like she was meant to drive, but also meant to be by his side and love him. Everything was working perfectly fine, except for work and their schedule, obligations, events, contracts, publicity, filming, photoshoots, interviews and everything that came with being a Formula 1 driver. Between her spending most of her days at the factory in Switzerland, race weeks where they would normally be in different hotels, and then race weekends where they would barely see each other for counted minutes where they would be never alone, it was nothing but hard to spend time together.

Sometimes they would act like they casually stayed in the same hotel and as carefully as possible they would sneak into each other's rooms to at least sleep in the same bed, all knowing their teams had their backs to cover them. Sometimes they would do the same thing in their trailers on some European circuit, saying that if the rest of the drivers could do stuff together, they also could have dinner together. It was almost normal to find Daniel at the door of the Alfa Romeo hospitality to talk to her in the same way he did it more than once going to the Redbull building to talk to Max. It was already a regular thing to find them standing together as they went around the track during the drivers’ parade on Sundays, talking with some other drivers but mostly joking between them. She was normally the one giggling uncontrollably at his silly jokes because he was clearly doing it to make her laugh. But all that always lasted some short minutes, and then it was to work, forgetting they were a couple for the next few hours. It was like switching to a weird flick that made them go from being a couple to being just friends until they left the paddock on Sunday night. It was hard. It was really complicated when they weren’t really doing anything wrong, but it was worth every time they were together. When they managed to sneak some days or even some hours together, it was just pure beautiful bliss and happiness and nobody could take that from them. Sometimes they would manage to spend some days away in some other place, like a week in New York, some extra days in Miami or Montreal, or even one week of the summer break in LA. But besides their little getaways, they were always together in Monaco. The nights they didn’t have plans or things to do, they would normally stay in one of their apartments having dinner, watching tv, fucking each other until they were exhausted and then sleeping tangled in the sheets. It was easy and simple and she loved it. But probably nothing was as easy as seeing Daniel coming home to her. Nothing was as beautiful as to read a text or hear him say over the phone ‘I’m on my way home’ and know that he wasn’t referring to his apartment or hers, he was referring to her. He was coming home to her, not really mattering where she was or where they were going to be. Things were like that from the beginning. After their first kiss and especially after their first dinner –which ended up being their first date and first time together– in her place, they got stuck together and there was nothing anyone could do about it. They started dating that exact same day, not really wanting to play games simply because they were too tired to run around trying to chase each other. From that day things moved fast, probably for the fact that they got counted minutes to be together. They started dating the week after the Imola incident; she managed to run away with him to New York before the Miami race and then stayed with him there until they had to fly back to Europe. In June they sneaked onto the terrace of the hotel, they were ‘accidentally’ sharing in Baku, and she finally admitted that she was in love with him right there, and everything became way better when Daniel said that he loved her too. They spent their first week of summer break together in LA and then they got to meet each other's families and friends as an official couple and something more than just teammates like they did back in their Renault times. It happened fast, but somehow it didn’t feel rushed. It felt right and somehow on time, so they were happy.

But from all that long list of things they did together, her favorite one was when Daniel gave her the keys to his apartment. He did it one day as she was joking about how stupid it was having to wait until he buzzed her in. She didn’t make the comment with double intentions or waiting for something from Daniel; she just threw it out because she really thought it was silly. In fact, she was waiting for some silly joke as an answer, but instead he got up from the couch, came back with the keys in his hand, ready for her to take it. She did take it, but in exchange she gave him a kiss and the promise to give him the keys to her place, whispering in his lips a sweet ‘What’s fair is fair’. That’s how Daniel went to her apartment that night, opening the door with his own keys on one of the counted free weekends they had, right before they left for Singapore and Japan. He came and found her in the kitchen making dinner, and the smile on their faces when they saw each other was just too big, even when their lips were together. The first thing he did was to give her a kiss, but then he wrapped his arms around her waist, letting her finish what she was doing as he covered her neck and shoulders with kisses. They were just too happy in their little bubble of love and happiness, not letting anything ruin it. She promised to herself and to Daniel to not let anything ruin what they had; not people, not racing or anything at all was gonna get in the middle of them and their relationship, and they were keeping their word so far.

They were doing a good job so far, and it was being an easy job to keep their love for each other and their relationship safe in the middle of a crazy bumpy ride, but some days it was harder than others, at least for some minutes. One of those counted moments happened once dinner was done and they were talking, all cuddling on the couch with two glasses of red wine in their hands. Everything was perfectly normal as they were kissing and watching some NBA game that Daniel put on the tv, but then he asked if she had plans for the weekend before they left for Singapore, and she remembered that in fact, she had plans. “Why don’t you come with me? It's just dinner with friends. Antonio is gonna be there and you know him and my friends, so it won't be that bad” she asked, stroking his cheek as she practically begged him to go with her. Normally she wouldn’t don’t do that, but knowing how complicated everything was going to be from that moment to the end of the season, she just wanted to spend as much time as possible with him. “It's just dinner and maybe some drinks but no big deal”

As soon as she saw Daniel’s face, she knew what his answer would be. He didn’t even have to speak for her to know what he was going to say, but she let him answer after he gave her a sweet, short kiss that tasted like nothing but love and fine wine. “I would love to, but if someone sees us we are screwed, babe. Besides what would I be there doing with you and your friends?” Daniel asked, stroking her legs that were resting over his as she was snuggled right by his side and almost on his lap. "We’re friends too. We’re just hanging out with friends. Having dinner ain’t illegal, right?” she shrugged, and even if it was a joke for Daniel, it really wasn’t. Normally he would drop some silly joke about the issue, but this time he just let his head fall over the back of the couch. “Hey, we’re not friends. I spent too much time being your friend and I’m not doing that again. I love you too much to do that” I love you too much to do that” she assured, covering his cheek, jaw and neck with kisses to prove her point. The whole ‘We’re just friends’ thing was probably as hard as hiding. She hated those words as much as Daniel did, but days like that one, it looked like he hated it a bit more. Maybe it was the fact that they were in the friend zone for three long years, but now, every time one of them had to describe their relationship as ‘friendship’ it was like a knife going to throw their hearts. It was nothing but weird to hear people talk about them being one of each other’s best friends when they were planning a future and building a life together.

She could feel his body tense when she said the world ‘friends’, but he relaxed again as soon as the ‘I love you too much’ left her mouth, and then he was back to normal when she kissed his skin, but she could see a little almost imperceptible frown on his forehead. “I love you more” Daniel affirmed, squeezing her waist a bit, turning his head to give her a kiss. It was his brown eyes that could make her do anything. She couldn’t with that warm chocolate color. She couldn’t with the way he looked at her, just as if she was the most precious creature in the universe. She just couldn’t when he looked at her and all she saw was love and adoration. She couldn’t ruin one of the counted free weekends they had, so she took a very easy choice. “I’m gonna reschedule” “No fucking way, babe. We can see each other later. Why don’t you come over when you’re done?” Daniel offered, trying to keep her from doing something silly, but heaven knew that she was damn stubborn, even worse than him. “We could do that, but I’m gonna reschedule” she insisted, snuggling even closer to him if that was even possible, all while she rested her head over his shoulder. “I’m not letting you. I’m calling Antonio myself”

“What if we meet at whenever we go after dinner? You can go with the boys and we pretend we just ran into each other. But no flirting with girls because I’ll kick your ass” she proposed, trying to find a solution to the problem. But her favorite thing was feeling Daniel smiling against her forehead when she dropped the silly comment. She felt his grip around her tightening as he kissed her head, and for a second every single preoccupation disappeared and was replaced with nothing but love no and adoration for the man by her side. “How could I flirt with anyone when I got you? And how am I supposed to keep my hands off you in public?” Daniel asked. Her first response was a little shrug and it was followed by a little kiss on his neck. They had been doing it for a while, but after months it was still hard to keep their hands away from each other when they were in public. Touch was their love language, not matter if it was just hugging, holding hands, or kissing. It was the most normal thing for them to be sitting together and have one hand over the others leg or Daniel’s arm around her waist or shoulders. It was so normal that it was almost impossible to stay away from each other while they were in the paddock. It was normal for her to suddenly feel Daniel’s fingers ghosting over her waist, acting like he was casually resting his hand in some place behind her or to have him standing too close to her, pretending he had no idea what person space was. They really had no idea what personal space there was between them, but she loved it. She loved Daniel with every single fiber of her body, so having him all around her was just too wonderful, just like it was terrible hard abot being able to touch him when he was away, even if for some hours.

“Same way we do it while we work, but we have enough of that bullshit at the track, so that’s why I’m canceling” she insisted again, kissing his neck once more. “No fucking way I’m letting you do that” he repeated, but this time he tickled her, making her lay down on the couch. “I don’t want you to cancel your plans for me, so I’m going with you. I’m telling Michael and Blake to come with me and that’s it. Its not like they don’t know your buddies”. It was that simple answer that made her warm even more. It was the fact that he didn’t want her to change her plans for him and that he was ready to change his so they could spend some extra hours together. She knew it was absolutely normal, but bad luck, bad decisions and clearly a bad taste -that was clearly over- for men made her always pick up the wrong boyfriends. She wasn’t used to having that because somehow all her exes wanted to be the center of her attention, not really understanding how busy her life was and how she was trying to do her best with her life outside racing tracks. Then it was Daniel who just understood everything because his life was even busier than hers. Daniel, who was trying to do everything in his power and putting everything from him so they could make it work together while also trying to protect her and their relationship. Daniel, who was the center of her universe but never wanted her to take time away from her family and friends. Daniel who loved her so much that he was ready to do anything for her, even risking getting caught. “Just know I’ll kick assess if someone gets too friendly with my girlfriend. I won’t care who’s watching” he stared, laying down beside her on the couch, opening his arms so she would get closer.

“Same if someone gets too close to my boyfriend” she smiled as the word ‘boyfriend’ left her lips. She still couldn’t believe Daniel was her boyfriend, so a little smile appeared on her face every time she said it. “You know, the worst part it’s pretending I’m not in love with you. All the time I think someone’s gonna realize and that we’re gonna be screwed” she murmured, placing both hands on his chest while she looked at the pair of brown eyes that she loved so much. “Don’t even mention it. Blake says I need to stop looking like a love-sick puppy all the time. Maybe Netflix makes a whole episode about us” Daniel joked, kissing her forehead and then her nose. “Why do you think they asked us about the other last week?” she asked in case Daniel forgot about what they called ‘The Netflix incident’.

Just like any other weekend, the Netflix team was around doing interviews and filming material for their new season. Everyone was used to seeing cameras and people around the circuit following different teams or drivers, but that last week was particularly different. That week she was supposed to have the Netflix crew with her around the track and going from one place to another in Monza. It was okay after all; she agreed with it because Daniel convinced her it would be fun, but then she found out they were following Daniel, too. Then she realized they were pretty much following them. She tried to ignore it, and that Thursday afternoon she really thought she was going to answer the same all questions about her team, about a particular event or a particular race, but she didn’t. The straightforward question was ‘Are you and Daniel together?’ and she froze. She laughed out of the nervous attack she had at that moment. She laughed in front of the cameras of one of the biggest stream services that existed. She laughed, and she lied and knew if looks could kill, then the big part of the room would be dead and gone. She answered with a simple ‘No, we are not together. He’s just one of my best friends’ and the answer should have stayed there, but it didn’t. The politically correct answer was that, but then she had to add a very serious ‘Did you ask this to someone else? Did you ask Pierre and Charles or Carlos and Lando? Or is it just with me because I’m a woman? Wanna ask if I’m with someone else? Wanna ask about the other eighteen drivers?’. The room went into absolute silence as she stood up and left the room, followed by her team and the Alfa Romeo team. Her team just wanted her to stop for a second; the Alfa Romeo team wanted her to go back, but all she did was turn around and tell them to leave her alone. That was one of the lucky times where she and Daniel were in the same hotel, so it took her no time to go straight to him because she needed to hide from the world. It took Daniel a long hour to calm her down that day and now they could laugh at it, but back then it was one of the worst days of her life, and she was nothing but thankful to have Daniel by her side.

“And how fucking hard it was to keep my face straight when they did” Daniel joked, because he had the exact opposite reaction to the tricky question. Since he was warned by her about the question, for Daniel it was all about payback. He went into that room and answered the question with a serious face that was nothing but weird on him. Suddenly the joker was gone, and nobody in the room knew what to do except keep it short and change the subject of the questions. Daniel said that if they made his girl feel like shit, then he was going to make them feel like shit and that’s exactly what he did, even if deep down the grin was fighting for coming out and screaming in front of those cameras that yes, she was his girlfriend. Daniel wanted to yell that she was his Cherry, but he kept it quiet. “We’ll figure it out one day, y’know? We won’t keep it a secret forever, but meanwhile I’m happy I get to kiss you here at home” he affirmed, just as if he was reading her mind and the questions running wild inside it. And what he also did was answer them with a sweet, slow and perfect kiss that eased her mind. Just as she kissed Daniel again and again without a hurry in the world was when an idea came to her mind. She knew it was going to be hard to make it happen and that it was perhaps impossible, but she couldn’t help but drop the question as she stayed with her lips ghosting over his. “Why don’t we go somewhere? We can take some days off, maybe go to Italy”

“We just came back from Monza” he remembered, and damn, she knew, but she couldn’t care less about it. “You wanna go to your secret cave in Verona, Juliet?” “You’ve never been there, so I still gotta show you my little secret piece of heaven in the form of a villa by a lake” she murmured, stealing one last kiss in some way to convince Daniel. Even when they lived between Monaco, London, Switzerland and whatever country they were in for a race, she had a secret house in Italy that counted people knew about. She had been promising Daniel to invite him there even back when they were together in Renault, but it didn’t happen. Now that they were together, they talked a couple times about going and she had been dreaming about spending some days there with Daniel, but again, it never happened no matter how badly they wanted it. “You got a lot of little secrets, Cherry” Daniel murmured, moving down on his place to bury his face on her neck and place some kisses around her skin which helped make her relax more than any other thing in the world.

“But you’re the best of all of them” she whispered, closing her eyes and letting herself go in the feeling of his lips over her neck, his stubble scratching slightly at her skin and his fingers moving under her shirt to stroke her waist. “C’mon, babe, let’s get out of here, even if just for the weekend” she purred as she practically begged. And she hated to beg, but he could even make her do that. “Sounds like a little piece of heaven indeed, especially because you’re gonna be there” It was then when she realized it was impossible, and Daniel was just probably looking for a way to remind her that they just couldn’t do it. He was looking for a soft way to say the words than none of them wanted to say, but she had to do it, even if it hurt. “Yeah, I know, we can’t. I gotta fly to Switzerland this week, we are going to Austin the week before the race, then the next free week it's between Mexico and Brazil, and then the season it's over and you go home” she listed, remembering how the next couple months of their life were absolutely planned and nothing could get canceled or changed. “Forget I said anything” she whispered with a little shrug and a kiss on his forehead, trying to ignore how it broke her heart a little. The sadness in her voice was all Daniel seemed to need to move from his spot and look at her. She tried to put a little smile on her face, but looking at Daniel’s expression, she was failing miserably. “Hey, don’t put that pout. We can go the first week after the season it's over. I won’t have to be locked for two weeks in a hotel room in Perth, so we have time before Christmas” Daniel offered, clearly desperate to make her feel better. “No, babe, it's okay. I don’t wanna take time away from your family. I was just daydreaming. Wishful thinking, I guess” she stated, stroking his cheek with the back of her hand. “You’re not taking time away from anyone because you’re my family too, baby girl” Daniel affirmed, grabbing her right hand to kiss her knuckles, her palm, and then her wrist. “What if we cancel our week in Austin?”

“We are not canceling Austin. You love Austin, so it's a no” she shook her head, and she might sound like a stubborn, but there was no way she would ever let him miss those days that he was waiting for so long. Besides, she was also expecting that weekend, so canceling their small getaway there wasn’t even an option.

“Then we cancel whatever we were going to do between Mexico and Brazil” he offered again, kissing the back of her hand and giving her his best puppy eyes.   “And deal with the jet-lag just because?”   “Cmon, Cherry. When we are not jet-lagged, baby?” he asked with a smile on his face trying to convince her, and even when she knew her boyfriend was right, she just didn’t want to say yes because it was useful to travel without reason. “Hey, I just wanna make you happy. If Italy will put a smile on your face then we’ll find a way”   “You make me happy and you put a smile on my face. I don’t need an Italy getaway to be happy” she insisted, stealing one long and loving kiss trying to make him drop the topic.   She really thought she had made it. She really thought it was forgotten between sloppy kisses, soft strokes, and little whimpers, but then Daniel moved apart to look at her. “Let's go when the season it's over. We spent a week there, just you and me. What do you say?”    

“I say that I love you more than anyone in the world” she whispered, absolutely lost in him, finally a smile appearing on her face because she really couldn’t believe he was doing such a thing to make her happy. “I love you more, but I have two conditions for that trip” he stated, kissing her nose before he kept talking. “After that you come to Perth. Not for Christmas because you’ll spend it with your family, but for New Year. I think some farm life would be good to make us relax” Daniel negotiated, making her smile even more. “Deal. What’s the second condition?” she wondered, kissing his lips a couple times as both of her hands rested on his cheeks. “Let's move together”

She could have sworn she was imagining things. She could have sworn it was all because of the wine they were drinking before. She could swear it was a joke, but Daniel wasn’t laughing. There was no ‘I just made a bad joke’ smile, it was a genuine smile. It was an ‘I’m very serious’ smile, and that’s how she knew Daniel wasn’t playing games with her, but even then, she couldn’t help but whisper an imperceptible ‘What?’ that she even though Daniel didn’t hear. “You hear it. Let's move together. Let's get a nice place here in Monaco for, you and me. We can get an apartment together and make it our place when we’re not working” “You’re not kidding, aren’t you?” she asked again to be sure, as her jaw was still hanging, trying to understand what was happening. Daniel wanted to live with her and for them to have a home together.

“No, I’m not. With our job we don’t have much time to be together, but the time we spend here, I wanna spend it with you. We can see if it works, and if it doesn’t, we’ll figure it out, but let’s do it, Cherry” he repeated, grabbing her chin between the long fingers of his tattooed hand. “It’ll work” she nodded probably too hard and too fast. “We’ll make it work. We’ll come home together and it’ll work. I promise it’ll work, babe” “So that’s a yes?” Daniel asked with the biggest smile on his face, and she couldn’t help but smile back. “Its a fuck yeah” she giggled, placing her arms around his neck as she kissed him as many times as it was possible, and then some, but it felt like it was never enough. “Oh God, we’re insane” “We drive the fastest cars in the world, so what’s new with us being insane?” he asked with a little shrug before he went back to kiss her, but even when their lips were together, none of them could help but smile because they were going to get a place to live together, but they were already home.

[ricciardonorrisleclercgasly]

Positive || Charles Leclerc

(Not my gif)

Part 2 to Pregnant.

Request by: @ireallydontknowdudee

Pairing: Charles Leclerc X Reader

Warnings: none!

You can find my masterlist here.

You can find my prompt list here.

Requests are open.

"It's negative.. again" you sighed burying your face in your hands. Charles wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you in close. "Don't be sad mon chèrie" he said kissing the top of your head. "I just feel like we've been trying forever and it's always negative" you said with a tear sliping from your eye. "What if there's something wrong Charles?"

"Y/N don't think like that. It has been less than a year and with being on the road so much it has probably been stressful on your body. Now that it is summer break we shall go and see the doctor, just to make sure everything is normal. Okay?" He said stroking your hair. You nodded into him and hugged him tight. It felt like such a long time ago you were sitting on the bathroom floor crying at the thought you might be pregnant and that Charles wouldn't be ready for this and when you found out that you weren't Charles suggested that you guys could start trying. So much had happened since then, Charles had won his first ever championship, you guys had moved house over the winter break, you had a beautiful intimate wedding with just your close family and friends around you and you had both agreed that you were ready to have a baby and had started trying but with the season restarting and moving backwards and forwards all over the world it was sometimes difficult to get your timings right.

Charles rang the doctors surgery and got you both booked in for a checkup, you got dressed and headed out the house. You arrived at the doctors shortly after and checked in. This was Charles' family doctor, he had been coming here for years, and trusted him whole heartedly. You were both called into see the doctor after a short wait.

"Ah Charles! What can I help you with today?" The doctor said gesturing for you both to sit down.

"Me and my wife are trying for a baby, its been around 7 months now and I know that it's not a long time but she's worried that something might be wrong" Charles said squeezing your hand.

"Congratulations, most couples will conceive within the first year of trying and you guys aren't quite there yet so try not to worry Mrs Leclerc. We can still do some tests today if you would like" you nodded your head.

The doctor performed all sorts of tests on you and Charles, checking for any abnormalities, your heart was racing the entire time. "Now the results will be with us in the next couple of days, try not to worry. We'll be in touch" the doctor reassured you.

----------

3 days later.

"Yes, yes thats fine. Yes I understand. Yes. Thankyou Doctor" Charles said on the phone. You paced waiting for him to get off the phone. He put the phone down and took hold of your hand, you held your breath. "Everything is fine Y/N" Charles said kissing your forehead, "there's nothing wrong, we just need to keep trying" you breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh thank god" you said kissing Charles.

"We will have a nice relaxed summer break and hopefully we can make a baby." Charles smiled down at you.

You spent the next 3 weeks relaxing in the sun with Charles, you stayed in monaco this summer, sitting on the beach, swimming in the pool and just being together. It was nice to just relax together.

-----------

2 months later.

"Charles!" You called from the bathroom, arms wrapped around the toilet bowl as you threw up the contents of your stomach. "Please can you bring me some water" the past few days you had had the most horrendous stomach bug, your body ached, you were absolutely exhausted and almost everything you ate made you sick. Charles came into the bathroom with a glass of water and sat rubbing your back. "Do you think that maybe-" he started to say.

"I'm not due on until next week Charles"

"I know" he said kissing the top of your head, "I just thought it might be worth taking a test. Just in case"

You peeled yourself off the floor and grabbed an early signs test from the drawer, "get out then" you laughed. You sat on the toilet to pee on the stick. You put it on the side whilst you tried to freshen up. Two minutes had passed and you looked down at the test, trying not to get your hopes up. 2 lines. It's positive. "Charles get in here!" You shouted trying to control your excitement, tears streaming down your face. Charles came into the bathroom and looked you up and down. You pressed the test into his hand. He looked at it intently. "2 lines is postive right?" He breathed.

You nodded your head. "Omg you're pregnant! We're going to have a baby y/n!" He yelled out in excitement, wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you up. He peppered kisses all over you as he hugged you tightly. "I can't believe it! As soon as we are home we will go to the doctors. Only the best for my princess" he put you back to the floor and crouched before you, resting his head against your nonexistent bump. "Daddy loves you so much all ready" he kissed your stomach, making you giggle. He stood up and kissed you passionately. "I can't wait to tell Pierre! He will be excited to be an uncle" Charles giggled.

"No Charles." You said sternly, "not until the first scan, when we know that everything is okay"

"Okay okay" he smiled, "but everything will be okay. I promise you mon chèrie"

[neopuppy]

Regular-Irregular: Final (M)

Preview: all that we see, or seem, is but a dream within a dream

Pairing: female omega reader x alpha Jungwoo x alpha Jaehyun x alpha Johnny

Word Count: 4k+

Genre: a/b/o, omegaverse, dubcon, dark theme, major plot twist, ???, as always this is FICTION

Smut Warning: humiliation, degradation, multiple partners, double penetration in one hole, a lot of cum, slick, hair pulling, crying, begging, mind manipulation, daddy kink, subspace

Intro | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 |

“Jungwoo.. stop..” with a scornful sigh you draw away from the alpha crowding you. Skin moist sweltering under your rising temperature. Everything feels irritating, painful, like an itch you can’t scratch. A disease you can’t shake off, already years deep into using suppressants by now. Your first heat in too long without the aid to help ease you into a calm rush of desire and need.

“But you smell so good..” Jungwoo releases a dreamy inhale. Nose brushing across your scent gland. Hand smoothing between your rubbing thighs. “Smell like you’re in heat already.”

“I think I am..” you softly gasp. He works up your inner thigh, caressing where you feel most tender, sensitive. Slick flowing out with ease between your folds. Jungwoo’s touches making their way higher, thumb pressing down on your clit. Mouth falling open over your most prominent scent swallowing down the waft of omega arousal steaming off your neck.

“I’ll take care of you omega. If you stay here everyones going to show up and use you. I’ll make it feel good.” Jungwoo sputters on. Circling your puckering wet entrance. Pads of his fingers dipping in teasing with each word that drips off his tongue. Your lunch long forgotten under a trance of the alphas scent blending with yours. He could be anyone at this point. The heats come on too fast like a thunderous storm taking over sunny skies.

Alpha pheromones surrounding you did not help. Every painful urge passing through your body felt like stings of scorching lava flowing in your veins. Jungwoo dragged you out of the break room with no struggle. Melting like a block of ice on the hottest summer day into his arms.

“Where do you think you’re going?” That callous voice could only belong to Jaehyun. Shoving a firm hand against Jungwoo’s chest as you make it half-way down the hall. Halting his movements so suddenly causing your back to sink into him. Arms holding you up squeeze around your waist tightly, squatting at his knee just enough to not let you fall.

“Don’t be a dick Jae, the omegas going into heat. She hasn’t had one this intense in awhile. She’s been through a lot the last couple of weeks..” Jungwoo tries to reason with the other alpha. Jaehyun scoffing hard enough for droplets of spit to cascade in the air. His gaze stays focused on Jungwoo, reaching below sliding a hand between your thighs. Cupping your mound with a satisfied pinch at the corner of his mouth.

“You know the rules Jungwoo.” Jaehyun’s eyes lower to your dazed expression. Three fingers shoving inside your hole with welcome. Cunt gripping like a starved animal desperate for a lick of a crumb. A pleased sound reverberates from his throat, nodding just once- “Johnny’s office. His orders clearly state to bring him the omega when her heat hits.”

Jungwoo audibly sighs, dragging a hand down your stomach. Arm flexing around you as he adjusts your limp weight in one arm. Reaching lower until the backs of his and Jaehyun’s hands meet. Two longer fingers pushing their way inside beside the other three. They share a smirk working their digits in and out of you at different paces. Jaehyun slower, sinking further past the other. Fingers straining outside as Jungwoo moves faster, slick splattering the outside of his hand with every thrust.

“She’s too tight to take Johnny’s knot still. I think we need to fill her little pussy up first. Get her ready her alpha right?” Jungwoo suggests. Jaehyun’s facial expression dead panning, stilling his motions. Freeing from the confines of your core, he reaches past you slapping the taller alpha. Slick coating his dewy cheek in the aftermath. Jungwoo’s lips part open huffing in annoyance. “She’s too fucked up to know the difference right now anyway!”

“You’re already on thin ice, Eros. If he condemns you to reside on earth, I will not protect you this time.” Jaehyun’s tone sends chills up your spine. He’s always cold, unapproachable, as if he was born from hatred. Jungwoo the opposite, radiating a false sense of innocence and love. Two polar opposite alphas that always seemed to trail by each other. Jungwoo acknowledges the lashing with an apologetic nod. Gently gliding from your center causing your knees to lock together. Hips pulling forward chasing after him.

“J..” your neck rolls back, head laying upon Jungwoo’s shoulder. The alphas brows raising in unison listening for anything more than your shallow breaths. “Je..”

Jaehyun’s jaw tightens, slapping his palm over your mouth urgently. Forehead plummeting into yours roughly with arched thick furrowed brows displaying anger. “Say his fucking name and see what happens.”

“Jaehyun… maybe..” Jungwoo starts, quickly shut down by the other alpha snapping his fingers. Head jerking in the direction of Johnny’s office. His lips shut together in defeat, hoisting you up trudging toward the large wooden door. Your feet skipping and bumping along the offices hallway carpeted floor.

With a kick to the door, Jaehyun bursts inside of Johnny’s private office. The alpha throwing him an unimpressed glance, ending a phone call when he spots you in Jungwoo’s arms. The alpha holding you up kicking the door shut behind him as they further enter together. Jaehyun grips your hair in a tightly wrap tangled knot. Head lifting up locking eyes with Johnny sat at his desk. His features softening taking in your strung out appearance, heat evident in your heavy scent filling the room up. Stuffy clouded air filled with your arousal. Powerful enough to weaken the scent of three alphas combined.

“She’s in heat.” Johnny stands up. Fingers tapping his desk with wide eyes. Feet moving him around to approach your waiting figure before his mind can fully process anything. “My omega..”

In a flash he stands before you, body large and looming. Big hands gathering your cheeks, squeezing you together beaming an overly joyful smile. Cock hardening in record time, unable to recall the last time he’d been so excited. “How do you feel baby? Want me? Need alpha?”

Nodding you reach for Johnny, Jaehyun immediately smacking your hands down. The anger still lingering his features, shooting Johnny a hateful glare. “Tell him who you really wish for omega.”

Johnny’s face falls, arms dropping to his sides. Fury flashing past his cheerful deposition. He shoves out a breathy sound of dismay. Irritation slowing the quickly building arousal in his gut.

“I…I…” you cringe. Jungwoo squeezing the answer out of you. His mouth tweaking to the side able to sense the pain tearing away in your mind. Wolf instinct seeking your mate, feral omega willing to take whatever she needs to satisfy the fervor of heat.

“She can’t control it Johnny.. he is her true mate after all.” He whispers. Confidence feigning, the idea of banishment a constant in the back of his mind.

“Well.” Johnnys neck cracks. Jaw clenching showing off a defined structure, cheekbones shining high. “What are you two going to do about that?”

Jaehyun’s grim face fades into smirk. An evil conniving smirk, yanking you from Jungwoo’s hold. He pulls you toward the chair you’d first interviewed for Johnny on. Seating himself with a rough pull of your ass back into his lap. Your neck twisting in discomfort, forced to look at the alpha as he spits out- “Fill this nasty bitch up. Give her dirty fuck hole exactly what she needs. Isn’t that right omega.”

Your heads forced to nod under the strong grip the alpha has you in. The sound of a belt buckle following. Jungwoo strutting up unbuttoning himself. The shape of his length shoving against the fabric of his slacks. Cock reaching far down the middle of his thigh sending another gush of slick spilling down your inner thighs. Knees drenched in lines trickling down to your ankles in anticipation.

“Alpha..” your voice breaks in tremors. Jungwoo lifting your chin up. Head shoved back leaving your neck on full display in a nasty arch. Jaehyun’s size presses to your lower back, focusing on shimmying your skirt up your hips. Jungwoo takes reign of your neck. Thick long fingers circling your throat to hold you in place. A silent nod of agreement passes between the alphas. Johnny stepping out unbeknownst to you, too lost in the alpha spewing nonsense above you.

“Wanna get filled up angel? Good little omega wants to get fucked so full and stupid doesn’t she?” Jungwoo’s lips pout out in question. Innocent eyes turning sharp with hunger. Nudging your neck until you nod in agreement with him. Jaehyun lifting your lower half up sinking you down his thick size. The backs of your eyes rolling up, taken over by the pleasure finally filling you up.

“Jungw..a-alpha…” your throat bobs under his loose palm. Jungwoo seeping fingers down your opened mouth. Slowly dragging down to the back of your throat in time with Jaehyun’s cock parting you open. Saliva gurgling up around the tips of his digits prodding the back of your tongue. Jungwoo’s gaze glinting with interests wondering how much you can take. What would it take to break an omega like you. The perfect specimen of an omega, as Johnny explained multiple times.

“Hurry the fuck up, my balls are gonna fucking fall off.” Jaehyun growls, nipping Jungwoo’s fingers at the side of your neck. The taller alpha still standing nods slinking fingers free of your mouth. Spit painting your lips and cheeks in his departure. The tip of his nose meets yours, his body straddling around you leaving you trapped against Jaehyun’s chest.

Jungwoo spins circles around your clit with the tip of his cock. Jaehyun throbbing inside of your stretched open hole growling deeper with each second passing. Chest rising and falling behind you faster. Nails digging through your top hard enough to leave a mark through the material.

“Jungwoo, I swear to..” Jaehyun scoffs, breathily laughing. “God.”

Jungwoo curses silently, cock sliding down prodding near Jaehyun’s. Your eyes widen with shock, slapping his shoulders.

“No no!” Incessant pleading does nothing to stop him. Cock forcing it’s way past your entrance. Knowing you can take it, taking every knot in the office like it’s your job. Since it is.

“Shit..” Jungwoo cries biting down on his lip. Cock head squeezed between your cunt and Jaehyun’s length. He thrusts in further splitting you open around the combined thickness of their cocks sliding together.

Johnny re-enters dragging in something large. Too blurry from your peripheral to fully visualize. He stands behind the chair, hands wrapping your neck from behind. Your eyes rolled up staring at his turned upside down face in awe.

“Love getting fucked by two alphas at the same time don’t you? What a good omega. Letting them use you like the disgusting little cock sleeve you are.” Johnny hisses. The need to claim you returning, heart felt feelings for his mate forgotten. It was time for the next step. You’d passed nearly every test successfully, nearly.

Jaehyun’s ass smacks down into the leather fucking his hips up. Hands squeezing and slapping your chests with every piston up. Slick dripping past the two alphas stuffing you full. Jungwoo grabs onto your shoulders biting back a pained moan. Tight cunt gripping and pulling him back in with every thrust. Friction under his cock rubbing against Jaehyun’s sending sharp stings of pleasure up his balls. Drawing them taut between his thighs.

Johnny lowers planting a messy kiss over your spit slick lips. He taps Jaehyun pulling away concentrated on your fucked out face. “Don’t knot her.”

“What!” Jaehyun growls. Frustration boiling over speeding his hips up. The two alphas slamming inside at different paces. Jungwoo slowing as Jaehyun speeds. Stomach bulging out the deeper Jungwoo’s able to glide in.

Johnny wipes the sweat gathering at your hairline. A soft demeanor returning to his form. Thumbs cleaning away the speckles of tears under your eyes. “I’m gonna knot her. Gonna mate you baby, wanna be my omega don’t you?”

You gasp in response, tongue falling out. Johnny pressing his thumb down leaving you with no way to evoke anything other than sounds.

“Fucking asshole.” Jaehyun rasps. Thrusting harder with each syllable. Jungwoo’s wanton sounds an opposite to the rough alpha. Too consumed with how tight you feel squeezing his cock.

“I can-can’t…cumming..” he breaks into throaty whimpers. Hips stilling sliding the entirety of his length in. Cock head swollen, jerking against Jaehyun’s spilling out cum.

“Move!” Jaehyun snaps full of anger pushing the alpha on top of you. Jungwoo’s length popping out with a scream bursting from your throat. Hole loosened begging for more alphas amidst your heat taking over.

The alpha inside you moving to stand. Keeping you impaled on his size, stumbling toward Johnny’s desk only a few feet ahead. Leaving you bent over he works up speed. Jungwoo’s fresh cum seeping around his size sliding down your thighs. Johnny loosens his tie at your side. Whispering to Jungwoo whose still catching his breath.

“That’s it you dirty fuck hole. Take all this dick. Taking two alphas like you were fucking made for it.” He stammers off behind you. Fucking into you releasing all of his anger. Directed at Johnny, directed at you, directed at Johnny’s plans.

“Please alpha! Please cum!” Your sad little cries reach deep inside Jaehyun. The alpha cursing out-loud as he slips free of your used up pussy. Hand wrapped around his suffering knot throbbing with need for a omega cunt to lock onto. Cum spurting across your ass adding to the mess of slick and cum coating the backs of your legs.

“How much longer can I wait baby..” Johnny’s tone softly awakens your blanking mind. Replacing Jaehyun and leaning over your back pecking a kiss at the shell of your ear. “Knot could pop just looking at you like this.”

Johnny’s cock presses to your entrance. Tip sneaking in like a warning. Cock head fat, pulling your cunt around him just as much as the two before. Your head nods rabidly. Heat filled brain sending messages to your body for more.

“Alpha please! Fuck me fuck fuck me!”

Johnny’s hips still, moving your hair to side pushing your cheek against his cool desk. Chills temporarily easing your burning skin, his tongue dragging up your cheek. “You know better..”

With an anguished cry and a backward roll of your hips, you sniffle up your stuffy nose. Wailing out in nod- “Daddy. Please daddy, need you. Need you so much.”

Johnny gives you what you want. Filling your pussy back up. Strength displayed in every thrusts fucking you down into his desk. Hips sore and bruising with every slam against the wood. His thrusts unforgiving. Sucking your ear in his mouth, tongue swirling around.

“Perfect omega for me every time. My perfect pretty baby. Love fucking you. Wanna fuck you everyday. Fuck you full of cum.” Johnny mumbles lowly into your ear. Large hand engulfing your throat. He pulls you back pounding into you faster. It had to be fast, you needed to cum, needed his knot.

“Daddy daddy please please” you choke out. Johnny gripping your neck tighter with each harsh thrust. “Knot me! Please alpha!”

“Whose alpha pretty baby, hmm tell me whose your fucking daddy?” Johnny grunts, chest glistening between his open shirt. Growling as his knot expands before you can even answer. Trusting you’ll say him, you’ll always come back to him.

“You! Daddy!” You cough, tears rolling down your face hitting the desk below you after every buck of his hips. Your eyes clenching shut, screaming through your climax- “YOU!!”

“Look at him.” Johnny tilts your shattered face ahead. Jaehyun and Jungwoo stand at Jeno’s sides. His glistening large eyes stare back begging to be saved. Watching you and Johnny fuck like animals. Begging for you to make the right choice. “Tell him that this is where you belong.”

“Tell him. My good omega.” Johnny grunts, grinding deeply. Cunt strangling his knot of any life. Whimpers and moans louder than his words impairing your hearing. With a hiss pressed to your ear Johnny continues- “TELL HIM. Tell him what a good slut you are. You won’t leave. This is where you belong.”

“Jeno…” tears stream down your cheeks melting down in a furious rush of heat. The attachment to Jeno destroying your soul from inside out. Omega howling in pain, running toward the alpha in your mind. His head shakes, wrists ripping at the binds containing him. The two alphas at his side lunging down attacking him- “..Jeno…Jeno!”

Interlude: regular

“Wake up.” It’s Jeno’s voice. Clouded by fog and distance. As if your throat had been suffocating under water, your body shakes under force. Sucking in a gust of breath bringing you back to life. Jeno above you with hands on your shoulders jolting you from deep slumber. He’s staring at you wide eyed full of concern, hair a tossed around mess like he just woke up. “Babe, wake up!”

It’s clear this time, you cough up wondering if you actually drowned. The rush of air hurdling you down a path of confusion. Brain full of nothing but recovering yourself.

“Bad dream again?” Jeno asks. Frown deepening as he helps you sit up. Sighing and gently draping a kiss on your bared shoulder. “I ran back in here when I heard you calling my name.. you okay?”

“What..” you trail off. Eyes bouncing around the room behind Jeno. A dresser with photos, some of you together. A television, an armchair, a window. A very simple room, not an office at all. “I..”

Jeno’s face morphs the longer you peer around in a daze. Tongue clicking with a nod- “I’m gonna finish making your coffee baby. You need to get ready for work, get a quick shower in alright? That will help wake you up.”

With a moist kiss against your cheek Jeno gives you the most heart melting smile. Helping you sit half off the bed as he backs away. Worry evident in his pursed lips as he steps out of the room. Approaching the dresser displaying a few frames, you notice your own appearance. Messy bed hair, pajamas, a bare face.

None of it made sense. Wake up…that’s what Jeno said…reaching for a photo together you trace across his side profile. Nose dug into your bunched up smiling cheek. Intimacy clear in the photo, like a couple..

Jeno steps back in mug in hand blowing softly at the steam rising. Gentle smile reappearing setting down the mug before you. He takes a hold of the picture frame, tracing your happy face the same way.

“A month after we started dating. I already knew I’d do anything to keep you.” He sounds genuine. He sounds like a memory of happiness. Bringing emotions to life you believed to be buried and gone. Jeno presses a kiss to your head, mumbling something about how you’ll be late to work if you don’t head out soon.

“Once I get my degree and can move out to the city, you can quit that job.” Jeno helps you pull on your coat. Rushing you before questions can even come to mind. You adjust your purse on your shoulder considering this could just be a dream… what was reality anymore… dreams.. reality, where did they meet?

“Really hate that you have to work for him.” Jeno grimaces. Forehead creasing down the middle upset. Your keys jostling in his hands as he anxiously tosses them back and forth.

“For who?” You decided to ask before he manages to usher your toward the door. Jeno pausing to give you a lost look.

“Are you joking or something?” It’s not sarcastic, his confusion has you growing flustered. Nodding and tugging at your ear nervously. His teeth clink together, scoffing. “If he does anything, you let me know. Let Jaemin know. I’ll rush back even if dad needs me to help with todays sermon.”

“Ja..” your eyes widen. Jeno missing your surprise with a wet kiss left on your forehead.

“I love you baby. See you tonight alright? Have a good day at work.”

—————————————————————————-

Everything was more or less the same. Like muscle memory your feet led you to the bus you rode to work every week. The bus driver, Lucas, greeting you fondly. A man with tattoos artfully shown off on his arms, shorter in stature sat across from you. The word ‘Ten’ sewn into the chest of the jean vest he wore.

Stepping off the bus led you to an all too familiar building. The doorman with a name tag glittering on his breast, Xiaojun, greeting you by name. Smiling brighter than the morning sun at all who passed by. A small coffee bar set up near the entrance. Glancing at the time you slowed your step to peep the menu. A young barista boy pulling on his apron, Yangyang scribbled sloppily on his name tag. He greeted you with a bow, asking if you’d be wanting your usual today. With a polite ‘no’ you wished him well heading toward the elevator.

The doors dinged open, two attractive men stood on opposite ends of the large empty elevator. Neither looking up from their phones to acknowledge your entrance. You stand back in the middle noting they were already heading to the same floor. The cart speeding down like a bolt with no stop. The first floor, no garage below. Something about that crossed your mind as odd.. the doors sliding open as you contemplated. Both men stand back, allowing you to exit first.

“Look who it is.” A man bumps against your shoulder much broader in size. A stack of paper in hand fanning his hair back. Jaemin.

You stagger back, mouth falling open. Finger lifting in accusation. He pauses, smile faltering, face pulling shock. “What’s wrong? You look like..”

“Like what.” The two men from the elevator stand behind you. The shorter ducking his head in greeting toward Jaemin.

“…like I just killed your boyfriend or something.” Jaemin scoffs, breaking into a fit of fake laughter. Smile calming as his eyes meet yours, rolling them to the side to quick to notice. “Hah hah? It’s a joke. Someones cranky this morning.”

“I..” the tallest of the three interrupts you. Softly pushing your arm pointing to a door down the hall. The office door again too familiar, as if..

“Johnny wants to see you. You know he hates when we’re late.” with another nudge the blonde directs you to move. Jaemin smirking, arms folding over his chest.

“Ah that boyfriend of yours, always making you late for work isn’t he? Used to always have us showing up last for breakfast at church camp. Crusty burnt oatmeal from the bottom of the pot every morning the entire summer thanks to Jeno.” Jaemin rehashes as if it’s a joke you’re in on. Eyes sparkling in memory of a life he barely remembers himself anymore. Another nudge has you stepping toward the door.

Your heart pounds in thump with each foot walking you forward. The name etched into wood near the door gracefully spelling out ‘John S. Suh’

Your hand flinches away from the handle, hot like burning coal. Tapping it cautiously, the men behind you laugh. The handle no longer hot, not even warm. Hesitation sends you shoved in with another push at your back from two different hands.

Johnny’s face lifts from the thick book spread open on his desk. A content soft smile appearing as the two men from the elevator grab on to your arms dragging you in shoved into the roomy leather seat before his desk. Johnny stands, rounding about to perch against the ledge. Arms folding over his chest.

“Am I dreaming?” You look around dizzily. The three men surrounding you grinning to cover up malicious intent.

“It’s confusing isn’t it baby?” Johnny kneels down. Swiftly smoothing your hair back, tracing knuckles along your cheek bone. “Always asking yourself… where am I heading? Multiple versions of me, all drawn back to these dreams.”

“Johnny.. why, what do you want from me?” Fresh tears spring to your eyes asking him pitifully. Johnny taunting you with a tiny pout. His concern genuine, his annoyance greater.

“I searched for you. I will continue to search for you.” Johnny laments, pinching your chin between two fingers. “I am your only choice.”

Your head shakes free of his touch, swallowing the sob daring to escape your chest. Jeno… but Jeno.. none of this made any sense. None of it.

“I don’t, I don’t want to be with you!” Shouting, you jerk up to run free. The two men at your side taking a hold of your arms pulling you to stand. Johnny turning muttering under his breath. Hand lifting to stop their actions.

“Jaehyun. Jungwoo. That is enough.” Johnny’s fingers snap. The room nearly spinning, turning back to you as the alpha from your nightmares. Jungwoo.. Jaehyun.. and Jeno all around. Johnny snapping and instructing Jaehyun to shut Jeno up again.

“Ah. This is growing so tiring.” Johnny hovers above you. Finger tip tapping your nose. Face hot, mind lost in the games he’s playing. That’s what this was to him, a game. A game he refused to lose.

“Why.. why me?” The questions a pathetic excuse to buy time. Figure out what to do next.

“Why do we meet in dreams? How do we meet in dreams?” Johnny asks in return. Shoulders shrugging uninterested in anything you may say. Finger wagging back and forth between where you stand and where Jeno is tied up. His brow raises, leaning down to whisper along your lips- “All that we see.. or seem, is but a dream within a dream.”

“Wake up.”

Déjà Vu—>

tag: @seuomo @unknown5tar @nc-teen @nanascupid @doieclayed @johnjaespeach @eggbutnotyolk @skittlez-area512 @lauraneuuh @hyucksslut @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @sweetmoonlight9 @multifandombtvh @notsooperfect @lenaluvs @hyunsannie @reinventingpersona @kawaiiayasan @resceluwu @hemlockbeauty @jaeminielovebot @snapcracklen @bands-messed-me-up @whlplazh @scruffiejelly @nominsgirl @5sos-wdw @robinsong1108 8 @readers-posts @yuwinie @cumicumisworld @sapiowoman28 @choppedupcactus @meonlightuniverxse @chanyeolscoon @booooooooooi @sunoosi @ahsshilee-me @nabi-nono @if-i-like-i-reblog @nohyuckieduckie @gomjohnny

[fezphoria]

tripping, falling, with no safety net

the third and final part of my “baby” series.

part 1: baby, can you see through the tears?

part 2: drift off on the floor, i drag you to the shore

set after season 2 of euphoria

fezco x reader

Fez’s hands push yours aside, his fingers steady and dry. He unbuttons your fly and pulls down the zipper. 

Then he gets on his knees and looks up at you. The look in his blue eyes is like a cool balm on your skin. He tugs on your shorts and shimmies them down your hips, along your thighs, until they hit the floor. 

I feel I might just be coming undone

Tell me why you can't be found?

It's so unreasonable, I know you

Love is a difficult life

Warnings for: sex (not smut, but dangerously close), drugs, guns. mentions of death. mentions of depression

Inspired by the songs “safety net” by Ariana Grande ft. Ty Dolla Sign, and “Found’ by Tems ft Brent Faiyaz.

fluff & angst & drama & more fluff

11.5k words

______________________________________

Spring comes to an end, and you have a new address on the other side of town. Closer to the store. 

The new place is in an old building, in need of intense cleaning, with a leaky faucet and faulty stove burner. It has two bedrooms and an actual living room and it’s perfect. And an elevator, which you couldn’t be happier about.

When you first opened the door to your new apartment, you couldn’t help the way you ran in. Your old place was a one bedroom, but it was more like a studio with an alcove. You walked along the walls and peered into every room and didn’t catch the way Fez watched you from the front door with a soft smile on his face.

Fez’s grandmother joins you in the home the week after you move in. You place the photo of her on the nightstand next to her bed, right under the light of the lamp. Her rosary goes next to it.

The first thing Fez does is brush her hair, lotion her hands, and drape a blanket over her. 

“Ash actually used to do this.” He says one morning, breaking the silence. His voice is even. “I would bathe her, but Ash made sure she stayed pretty.”

Usually he performs this ritual quietly, but today you are sitting next to him, and maybe it moved him to speak.

You put your head on his shoulder and a hand on his knee, and hope he can feel your love.

“He was sweeter than most people ever knew.”

You feel Fez nodding, and you know the conversation is over. 

Sometimes, if he isn’t keeping himself busy with work, or movies, or you, he seems totally bored with life. He was able to hide this well when he was locked up and you only saw him for a couple hours at a time. 

But now that he’s back, you get to observe him day in and day out. He isn’t entirely miserable - he basks in being able to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants. A lot of the time he seems thrilled that you are even in the same room as him. He loves you, and he loves his freedom, but you know it’s not enough. 

He is looking for meaning in his existence and coming up short. Looking for purpose in the store, or in paying the bills. You know you broke his heart when you left - it’s something you feel strangely guilty about every day. But Ash was his whole heart. He lived for Ash.

Fez won’t talk about that day. All you know is what Faye told you. 

You wish you knew how to fix this. The best you can do is listen.

You watch as Fez applies lotion along the inside of his grandmother’s hand. He takes the time to rub some into her cuticles. 

Everything’s been quiet on the homefront lately. Today’s the last day before you start working at the store and Fez goes to work on a demolition site. Less time together but more money in the bank. Plus, he won’t be doing demo work all the time. 

When summer ends it’ll be back to how it was, and you look forward to it.

______________________________________

That night you cook dinner. 

“Nervous about your first day?” You tease, bending over to check on the chicken in the oven. 

“Nah, I know most of the guys there.”

His mood has improved since this morning, like it always does. A few kisses from you and he goes from sullen to pleased. 

“You’re gonna be exhausted when you get back.” You wonder aloud. “Demolition work is hard.”

“Yeah, I know.” He says, and his voice is a lot closer. 

Before you can turn to face him, his hands touch you, one on your hip and one on your chest, just above your breast. He presses his chest against your back and buries his nose in your hair. 

“Can we at least eat first?” You ask, not at all bothered by the turn of events. 

He’s been out for five months and working overtime to make up for all the time lost. Personally, you still can’t get enough of him. 

But he does need to eat. 

“I’m not hungry.” He replies, petulant. 

“Yes, you are.” You say, swaying a bit as he walks the both of you forward by a step or two. 

“I’m gonna fuck you right here on the kitchen floor.” He answers, his mouth right by your ear, and your whole body is shot through with desire. It’s paralyzing. 

“What? No smart ass reply?” He teases. 

You swallow around a lump in your throat. Your skin is hot. 

“Let’s make a deal.” You say, and he hums. It vibrates from his chest and into your body. The hand on your chest creeps up to graze along your throat. The one on your hip starts to toy with your waistband. 

“Fuck.” You mutter. 

“What’s the deal?” He cajoles, one hand slipping under your pants but not into your panties. His palm and fingers settle on your throat. He tilts his hips into yours and you have to lay your hands flat on the kitchen counter. 

“We eat first.” You say, and you’re proud of yourself for not sounding as wrecked as you feel. “And then I promise to fuck you to sleep.” 

His hand slips out of your pants to grab your face. He turns your head so he can kiss you on the mouth, then your cheek. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

He peels himself off of you and you feel sick with how bad you want him. How the hell did you go so long without this?

The two of you eat, brush your teeth, change into your pajamas, and then promptly take your pajamas off as soon as you’re in bed. 

You stay true to your word. You’re both trembling by the time you’re through with him. 

He knocks out, snoring, and you half want to wake him up just to kiss him some more. 

Instead you burrow closer into his embrace. There’s something so special about sleeping next to him after sex. You get to see the most secret, sweet parts of him. You get to know the heat of his skin and the scent of his neck.

______________________________________

When you wake up in the morning, he’s already long gone. 

You get up, aching in all the right places. You bathe before getting dressed, and then you’re off to the store. 

Your first day working on your own is only mildly interesting. Some regulars comment on how they haven’t seen you in a while, at least during the daytime. 

Then, around one in the afternoon, a man walks into the store. And you know, in your gut, that you’ve seen him before. And you know where. 

You haven’t seen him since that day in February, when you crossed paths on the stairs. 

You watch him from the corner of your eye, pretending not to notice when his gaze catches on you. He circles the store, glancing at the malt liquors and then at the back entrance. 

“How can I help you?” You finally ask. He looks at you. 

“Well…” 

“Looking for Fez?” You prod and he smiles crookedly. 

“Yeah, actually. You know him?” 

“I do.” You reply. “I’m working at his store.”

The man starts to approach the counter. 

“Yeah, that was dumb of me to say.” He puts one elbow on the countertop, and you try to commit his face to memory. Pale skin, dark eyes, light brown hair. He looks to be about twenty five. 

“Why are you looking for him?” You ask, trying very hard to not sound as curious as you really are. 

“Oh, I’ve been calling him but he’s not picking up. Thought I’d drop by to see him.” The guy shrugs. “We’re old friends but I don’t see him much.”

Ah. That makes sense, actually. 

“He’s not working here today.” You answer. 

“Yeah, figures. On my day off.” He sighs. “You’re his girlfriend, right?”

You tilt your head. 

“He talk to you about me?”

The guy shrugs. 

“A little. He told me that you met in high school and you basically got him through jail. Said you go to a state school and you’re really smart.” 

You don’t know what to say. The man grabs a pack of gum and tosses it on the counter. 

“How much for these?”

“Two dollars.” You say, and he pulls the money out of his wallet. 

He pays and pockets the gum. 

“I guess I’ll catch him some other time. And maybe I’ll see you around, too. You could meet my girl.” He says, a small smile playing on his lips. 

“Sure.” You answer, feeling a lot better. 

Right before he steps out the store you ask, “What’s your name, again?”

“Christian.” 

“I’ll let Fez know you’re looking for him, Christian.”

He raises one hand in thanks and walks out. 

______________________________________

Fez is a tough guy. Always has been, and he came out of jail even tougher in a lot of ways. But he’s not a man who has spent his days swinging a giant sledgehammer at a wall for hours on end. 

So when he gets home looking like he’s been chewed up and spat out, it’s not surprising. 

You basically usher him into the bathtub, where you wash his back and lather his chest. You look at his hands and his palms are red. 

“How many more days on this job?” You ask. 

“A week.”

“You sure you wanna take more demo jobs after this?”

“I gotta. Even just a few of these gigs this summer and it’ll really line our pockets, y'know what I mean?”

“Okay. Just a few.”  You lace your fingers with his and he heaves a huge sigh, knocking his head back to rest on the tub. 

“I’m not gonna lie to you.” He starts. “I planned on coming home and fucking the shit outta you but I don’t think I have it in me tonight. Sorry.”

You splash water in his face and he sputters. 

“One track mind.” You tease. 

In bed that night, you dip your hands under his shirt jus to feel his skin. Chaste. 

Your fingers brush against the scar on his abdomen, the ghost of his bullet wound. 

He’s already half asleep when you remember your promise from earlier in the day. 

“By the way, your friend Christian came by the store today.”

Fez’s eyes open, slowly. 

“Christian came to the store?”

“Yeah.” You nod, face half buried in your pillow. “You weren’t picking up the phone and I guess he wanted to see you. Said it was his day off.”

He doesn’t answer and you yawn, drifting off. 

______________________________________

Fez finishes his demo gig and doesn’t have another lined up for a couple weeks. Which means he is working the store today, which means you get to spend the day at home or out or wherever you want. Fez loves these days - he loves when you don’t have to lift a single finger. Sometimes you think he gets off on bringing home the bacon. 

So now you’re on the couch with your friend, laughing your head off. 

Faye watches you laugh at her joke and smiles in that slow, spacey way that always charms you.

You’d become fast friends since you first met her. There’s something about her you just like. You love Rue, and you like her friends. But that’s different. Maybe it’s just that Faye is closer in age to you and Fez, so you don’t feel so maternal. All your friends have gone off to different colleges, and even though you still talk, there’s a growing distance between you. 

But Faye is funny, and sweet, and you’re only growing closer. 

When Fez gets home, you’re on the couch with Faye talking about giving each other stick-n-pokes.

The door shuts and Fez pauses, eyes lighting up.

“Wassup, kid?” 

“Hey.” Faye grins.

“What, you stealing my girl now?” He nods in your direction. 

You have Faye’s ankle in your lap, doodling a little flower there with a pen. The two of you are testing potential tattoo designs. 

You can hear Fez dropping his keys into the little bowl by the door.

Faye shrugs and smiles coyly.

“How you been? Haven’t seen you since that party we had at the store.” He continues. 

You glance up from the daisy you’re drawing. 

“The ‘welcome back’ party?”

Fez purses his lips in that funny way he does. It’s his version of rolling his eyes.  He always calls it the grand re-opening party, but you both knew people showed up to celebrate the fact that he was free. Not that they didn’t love going to his store for the occasional ice cream or soda.

You let go of Faye’s ankle and hand her the pen. She takes hold of your wrist and starts doodling.

“Yeah, I’ve just been kinda busy.” She says, concentrating on your wrist. You watch Fez kick off his shoes and grab a water bottle from the fridge. “I’ve been going to NA or whatever. Got a job. Always checking in with my fucking probation officer.”

“Oh, shit. You’re still on probation?” Fez looks truly surprised, sitting down across from the both of you.

“Yep.” Faye pops the p on the word, annoyed. “One year down, two more fucking years to go. Took that instead of a year in county jail.”

“You sure you should be hanging ‘round here?” He asks, and the concern in his voice is setting off alarm bells in your head.

Faye shrugs, and puts the cap on the pen. 

“What’s wrong, why can’t she hang out here?”

She runs her finger over the little star she drew on you and smiles to herself. You smile back, but you glance up at Fez, a question on your face.

“Folks on probation and parole can’t hang with ex-cons.”

“What?” 

“Yeah.” Faye sighs, resting her head on the couch. “But I’m not really sure if it counts, though. Neither of us are felons.”

“Faye,” You say. “I think you should really know the rules of your probation better.”

Fez makes a clicking sound with the side of his mouth.

“I mean, I won’t catch any heat for it. I’m just worried about you, kid.”

She slouches further into the couch, her hair fanning out around her head.

“Alright, I’ll ask. Just don’t kick me out yet, I’m having fun.” 

You pinch her leg.

“Obviously I won’t. But we actually should get going.”

Faye glances at the clock and nods, walking to the door to toe on her shoes. You grab yours from next to the couch and unlace them. 

“Where y’all going?”

“Movies.” You reply. “Then dinner.”

“Damn you really trying to steal my girl, huh?” He jokes, and Faye smiles and winks. He waves her off. “Alright, alright. Have fun.”

You tie your shoes and walk to the door, where Faye waits. You pause in front of Fez.

“I’ll call you when we get out.”

You kiss him on the mouth.

When you get back he’s laying on the couch, watching a nature documentary, blunt in hand. His gaze flickers to you as you walk through the door. When you bend over to unlace your shoes, you catch a glimpse of him looking at your legs. You’re wearing shorts. His expression is cat-like.

You walk up to him and see his eyes are glassy from the weed. 

“C’mere, baby.”

He tugs at your fingers lightly. 

“Where? There’s no room.” You say, pleased with how playful he’s been all day. 

“Whatchu mean?“ He puts the blunt in the ashtray so he can place both hands on the back of your thighs. “C’mon, don’t make me beg.”

“You want me to lay on top of you?” There’s a laugh in your voice. 

He sucks his teeth in faux annoyance and you laugh again before giving in. 

He opens his legs to give you space to lay between them and you do so, resting your head on his chest. He wraps one arm around you and puts the blunt back in his mouth, taking a slow drag. Then he puts it in your mouth and you inhale. The taste of it reminds you of Fez, honestly. 

“I could look at you all day.” He says, and you smile to yourself as you exhale. 

“Yeah?” You tease. He brushes his fingers along your cheek. 

“Yeah.”

You hum and take another drag. 

“You have fun with Faye?”

You nod. 

“Did you? Have fun at home, I mean.”

“I mean, I got to relax but… it’s not the same without my baby.” 

He plucks the blunt straight out of your mouth and smokes from it. You watch him do it and he winks at you. 

“You know you’re so fucking hot?” You blurt out. 

He laughs so suddenly that he coughs, and blue smoke streams from his mouth. 

______________________________________

You think maybe seeing you with Faye has inspired Fez. Or something like that. 

He starts going out, without you, and it makes you happy. He hangs with Rue, or Faye, or even with Lexi. Mostly, he hangs with Christian. 

You get to know him better. He’s a couple years older than you and Fez, he likes to skate, and his favorite movie is Serpico. 

He usually hangs with you and Fez for a couple hours before the two of them head out. He’s kind and charismatic and normal, and that’s more than enough for you to like him. 

Fez mentions something vague about the two of you hanging with Christian and his girl sometime, but no plan ever materializes. 

It’s whatever. You just like seeing him go out at and be happy. It’s good to see him go back to really living life. 

He leaves at sundown most times, after he and Christian are done at work. One day you wake up to him crawling into bed at two in the morning. You feel his body settle behind yours. You turn to kiss him and he stretches into your touch like a cat.  

“Fun night?” You ask, and you love how shaky his exhale is. 

He doesn’t answer, just kisses you back. He opens his mouth a little and you press your tongue against his. 

“You didn’t go drinking.” You say playfully, like you’re a detective. “You don’t taste like gin.”

He doesn’t play along. 

He kisses your neck, one hand sliding to your waist, and you start to wonder what kept him out so late if it wasn’t a night at the bar. 

“What’d you and Christian do tonight?” You ask, and Fez licks a stripe across your collarbone. 

“Can we not talk about Christian right now?” He says, smoothing his palm up your rib cage. He nips at your ear, and you’re distracted for a moment by the excitement flooding your veins. 

“I’m just wondering why my boyfriend is coming home so late.” You reply, and Fez pulls you in even closer.

“We didn’t do nothin’ special.” He says, turning you so that you’re on your back and he’s on top of you. 

Now you’re sure he’s being evasive, and even among the rubble of your sleepiness and your arousal, a red flag is raised. 

He presses one knee between your thighs, knocking them apart to make room for himself. His body is hot. 

“You trying to distract me?”

He sighs, and grumbles, resting his forehead on your chest. 

“We hung out at his place, then we shot the shit with some buddies off Kemper, and it got late. Ain’t really worth talking about.”

You bring one hand up to the back of his head. 

“Okay.”

His breath is making you frost over with goosebumps. He lifts his head, and there’s desperation in his eyes. 

“Baby, I been thinking bout making love to you all night. So do me a favor and kiss me.”

You can’t say no to that. 

______________________________________

It’s almost noon when you get back from the supermarket. You open the trunk of the car and bend over to collect the bags of groceries. But then a voice makes you stand so fast you almost hit your head. 

“Where’s your boyfriend?”

You just turn and stare, unblinkingly, as your mother walks up to you on the sidewalk. She glances around, appraising the building you’re parked in front of. 

When you don’t answer she stops in her examination to look at you. You realize then that she wasn’t looking at the building out of genuine interest, but because looking at you pains her. You see it in her eyes.

“He’s at work. Did you come here to see me?” You ask, hopeful. You’d given her your new address after you and Fez moved but you weren’t really expecting her to show up. 

“No. I was hoping to speak with Fezco. But it’s nice to see you.” She says. 

“What did you wanna see Fez for?” You ask, even though you know. Your mother just looks at you with a bemused expression. One that says ‘let’s not pretend’.

“I know we haven’t spoken in a long time.” She starts, and the intensity of her gaze makes you uneasy.

You busy yourself with taking the groceries out of your car, just to avoid it. 

“Don’t you think that hurts me?” She continues, “I’m your mother. Your dad and I miss you. You’re young, we won’t judge you for the mistakes you make.”

This makes you turn your head.

“I’m making my own decisions about my life. It’s not up to you to decide if they’re mistakes or not.”

“A convicted drug dealer? Really?”

“He doesn’t deal anymore.” It sounds like a weak defense as soon as it leaves your mouth. “And you know why he used to do it.”

“You know he attacked Cal Jacobs’ son? Sent him to the hospital. He was asleep for four days.”

“Yeah, I heard.”

You say nothing else, because if you tell her you think Nate deserved it for a dozen reasons, it will open an entirely different can of worms. And you definitely don’t mention that Cal is a sex offender and his son is an abuser. 

“Do you really think he is living with you because he loves you so much? I hate saying these things to you.” She stops and shuts her eyes. “You’re young, honey. But you need to face reality. He has nothing and you are offering him everything. A home, a hot meal, sex.” 

You cringe. 

“That's what matters to him. You could be anyone.”

“I’m not just anyone. We were together for almost three years.”

“Together? You were in high school. You dated him.”

“Okay, and now I live with him. Mom, do we have to argue?”

She sighs and you heft a paper bag onto your hip. 

“Do you…do you want to come up?” You ask, hopeful she will say yes. 

“Are you using protection?” She says instead, pissing you off a little. 

“I don’t think you’re really one to judge.” You retort, and you regret it immediately. 

Your mother’s face rearranges itself into something stony, and you know it’s to hide the hurt. Your parents had you very young, and although you know they love you, you also know it wasn’t easy for them.

“If you get pregnant,” She warns, “We’re cutting you off.”

And you know she’s saying that out of anger. You know it’s not what she came here to say. You know you provoked her into saying it. And more importantly, you and Fez aren’t getting pregnant any time soon.

But it still hurts.

You watch your mother walk away, and when she turns the corner you walk into your building and take the elevator up to your apartment and put the bags onto the counter and you do not cry. 

When the milk and eggs and bread are stored, you stand in front of the fridge for a while, letting the cold wash over you. It’s hot out today and the heat is seeping into the apartment through every crack in the windows and under the doorways. 

You check on Marie, give her her medicine, turn on the fan in her room, and leave for the store.

When you get there, you’re feeling calmer. The drive soothed you. When you park the car, you see a couple others parked as well. A  couple of people are milling around inside.

You walk into the store and Fez smiles at you from where he’s sitting on the counter.

“Look who it is.” He says, and you feel a million times lighter already. “Hey, beautiful.”

“Hey, handsome.” You reply, resting your forearms on the counter and staying still just so he’s forced to lean down to kiss you hello.

He’s got his Polo unbuttoned, and you can see the gleam of his necklaces contrasted with the peach tone of his skin. You touch one finger to the jewelry, just to feel the heat of it.

“Want it?” He asks, breaking you out of your reverie. “It’d look better on you than me.”

You shake your head.

“One day you can just buy me one of my own.” You tease, then kiss him on the cheek. “So, has it been busy today?” 

“Yeah, actually. Lotsa college kids comin’ round for liquor. Summer parties are startin’ up.”

You hum and glance around. There are a few people chatting and looking at bottles and chip bags and rolling papers.

“Why don’t you take a break? Go sit in the fridge and cool off.”

“You sure?” His brows raise. His cheeks are flushed, and you know it’s the heat.

“Yes.” You round the counter to stand behind him and playfully push him. “Go.”

He hops off the counter and walks away with his hands raised in surrender. He vanishes into the fridge and you sigh. It’s fucking hot in here. You’re gonna need to find a better way of cooling the store. The ancient giant fans aren’t cutting it.

The busywork of manning the counter keeps your head nice and blank. It feels safe here.

You’re ringing up a couple when you hear your name called. 

You hand back the customers’ change and glance up to the front entrance, and see the boy you dated in your freshman year of college. 

“Dwayne!” 

He walks up to the counter with his hands in his pockets and a surprised smile on his face.

“Wow, I haven’t seen you since before winter break. How are you?” He asks, and it is so nice to talk with someone who knows nothing of your worries.

“I’ve been good.”

“You work here?” 

“Yeah. Well, sometimes. My boyfriend owns it.”

“Oh, shit. He owns it?”

You shrug, acting bashful, even though you’re actually very proud of the fact.

“Yeah, it was his grandma’s and he’s keeping it alive.”

“I’ve been here before, though. Is he the redhead? The one with the beard?”

You grin and nod.

“Yeah, exactly. That’s Fez.”

Dwayne nods and there’s a tiny moment of awkwardness that passes before you can even think about it. He taps his hand on the counter and looks behind you, a faux thoughtful look on his face. It makes you smile even wider. 

Even though it didn’t work out, you’ve missed your friendship, however new and small it had been before you dated.

“Can you get me a couple packs of those swisher sweets?”

“Sure. Blueberry, right?”

He cracks a smile at that. 

“Yeah.”

You turn around and place one foot on the hidden step stool behind you to reach up for the packets.

“You remembered, huh?”

“Who wouldn’t? These taste like shit.” You step back down and turn to him, placing the items on the counter. “I’ll always associate them with you and those times we smoked together.”

“I’m flattered.” He jokes, putting one hand over his heart. 

“Alright, playboy. You finna buy anything?” Fez’s voice breaks through the rhythm of your conversation, the words said in a steady drawl.

You both turn your heads to look at Fez, leaning against the fridge door. Dwayne is surprised and you are as well, until annoyance floods in.

“Sorry.” You say. “Ignore him and take your time.”

Fez pushes off from the fridge door he’s leaning against and gives you a meaningful glance before walking away.

“Is he the jealous type?” Dwayne asks, keeping his voice light, but you can tell he feels awkward. You’d gotten to know him pretty well.

“No, actually. He’s being weird.” You mutter, and he gives you a sympathetic look. “Anything else I can get you?”

He hums and turns, scanning the glass doors with a quick turn of his head. He goes to one, picks out a pack of beers and then puts them on the counter.

“I forgot my ID, though.” He says, and it gets a smile out of you.

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” You say, ringing him up. 

He waves goodbye at the entrance and you wave back.

______________________________________

The two of you worked the rest of the day, until nightfall. It really was a busy day, and that was to your advantage. You were too aggravated to talk much and the drive back home was silent. 

Fez starts apologizing as soon as you walk through the apartment door.

“Look, I’m sorry ‘bout all that. Wasn’t tryna start nothin.”

“Okay.” You say, walking into your bedroom and taking off your earrings in front of the vanity. You then step out and go to the bathroom, where Fez watches you splash water on your face.

“Baby, are we fightin? What d’you want me to do?”

You scoff.

“You need to - I don’t fucking know, Fez. You’re sleeping on the couch tonight? I don’t know, whatever.” 

You haven’t fought since you were in high school. Now that you live in the same home, you get to do grown up things like banish your partner to the couch. Surreal.

“You serious?” 

“Yes, I’m serious.” You say, even though you’re not really sure you are. “You embarrassed me. Why did you do that?”

His face morphs into something less apologetic. 

“Did you fuck him?” 

You swear you could just scream right now. 

“We dated back in freshman year. So, yes, I fucked him.”

“I knew it.” He sounds exasperated. “I could tell.”

“Now what? Are you gonna ask if I liked it?” 

His face shutters and you see the shift in him - the shift into actual anger. 

“Nah, I was gonna ask why you never told me ‘bout him.”

“Because it doesn’t matter.” 

There’s a lot of things you feel guilty about. This is not one of them. 

“You knew ‘bout Lexi, but I ain’t know nothing about him.”

“Oh, please. I only knew about Lexi because Rue told me.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t sleep with her.”

“You just didn’t get the chance to!” 

There you go again, raising your voice. 

“Fuck this.” He mutters and when he leaves the room you get even angrier. 

It should’ve been you leaving the room and slamming the door behind you for good measure. Instead you’re left staring at the open bathroom door and the empty hall beyond it. 

You go to your room and sit on the bed, exhausted. The cool air is making the day’s sweat dry on your skin and it’s making you even more miserable. 

You put your hand on the back of your neck and sigh. When you open your eyes, Fez is at the doorway. You lock eyes and when you don’t shout he takes it as permission to enter the room. 

“Let’s just forget all of this.” You say and he shakes his head. 

“Nah. I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

He means it. He always does. 

You feel the outrage seep out of you. You recognize all of this - his jealousy, his anger. It’s new and it’s stupid and it’s temporary. He’s not his old, mellow self, you know that. You’ve known this for a while, even if he doesn’t know it himself. 

Emotions overpower him for small moments and he’s trying his best. Every day he gets a little bit better. 

Today was just a bad day. 

Plus staying angry with him is hard, it always has been. 

“It’s been a really shitty fucking day.” You admit. 

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not just you.” You mumble and the bed shifts when he sits next to you, his shoulder pressed against your own. “My mom showed up this morning.”

“Did y’all talk?”

“Oh, yeah. And she told me if I get knocked up she’s gonna cut me off.”

“She said that?”

“Yeah.”

He brushes a lock of hair behind your ear. He always does that to soothe you. 

“You jus’ keep taking the pill.” He says. 

“I’m worried it’s not just for now. What if she means forever? She can’t blackmail me like that. What, I can’t start my own family without losing my parents?” 

“We don’t gotta worry about that right now. Aight? You get your degree, I’ll work, and we’ll think about kids later. They’ll come around.”

“Still wanna put a couple babies in me, huh?”

“I mean, yeah. I want you to be the mother of my children.”

You can’t help the flutter in your chest. 

“I know why you got jealous, Fez. So listen to me for a second.” You grab his hand and look at it. The gold rings, the freckles, the fingers intertwined with yours. “Stop being scared that I don’t want you. I’ve never wanted anything but you. You’re afraid, I can tell.”

You look up. He says nothing. He just looks at you, thoughtful. 

“You’re the future father of my children.” You say. “You. I couldn’t stop loving you if I tried. Okay?”

He nods. 

“Yeah, I hear you, baby mama.”

You smile as you kiss him. 

______________________________________

You park outside of the store, and you can see the back of Fez’s head through the window. He didn’t hear you pull up, and you almost call out until you see he’s in there with someone. 

You’d thought maybe you could help out at the store again today, but now you guess it’s not busy enough to warrant that. 

You step out of the car and recognize that the other person is Christian. They’re talking back and forth, Fez shutting the cash register and locking it. You can’t hear them from here. Christian looks somewhere between amused and agitated. You can’t see Fez’s face. 

And then. 

You watch as Fez and Christian step into the fridge together. And you feel like you’ve been stabbed in the back, even though you know that’s not true. 

Fez never promised to stop dealing, and you never made him promise to stop. You never told him you’d leave if he went back to it - you didn’t want to force his decisions with an ultimatum. 

And most importantly, you could be wrong. Misreading the situation because of your anxiety. 

You tell yourself these things, but you can’t reason yourself out of your emotions. 

You think about waiting for them to step out, to stand by the door to confront him. Instead you turn around and walk away.

______________________________________

That night, Fez’s gentle hands are zipping up the back of your dress. His knuckles brush against your neck as he buttons the top.

“Who invited you?”

Looking in the mirror, you appraise Fez’s party outfit. Simple as always. He doesn’t need much when he’s that handsome.

“An old friend. His name’s Conor. S’like, one of my oldest buddies, but I ain’t seen him in a minute.”

“The party’s at his house?”

“Yeah.”

He tugs your dress down from where it bunched up around the zipper. When he’s done he steps away towards the dresser to pick out his jewelry.

“Are you planning on dealing drugs again?” You ask, surprising yourself.

He pauses and turns his head to look at you. You look right back and he blinks, owlishly.

“What?”

“I’m just asking.” You say, going for casual, but your tone is betraying you. “Are you?”

“No.” He answers, and he says it so simply, with so much conviction. 

You say nothing in reply. 

Has he always been such an excellent liar? Has he ever lied to you before and you didn’t realize? 

Or is he being honest, and you’ve misread the situation entirely?

“What’s wrong, girl?” He asks, blinking again in that earnest way. He brushes his hand against your cheek.

“Nothing.”

“Seems like it’s something.” He has gone from surprised blinking to that quiet observational gaze of his. 

You shrug, and Fez keeps looking at you, curious and perceptive. You’re used to this, though, and even though you’re rusty, you maintain a more or less blank expression.

“Aight.” He concedes, raising his hand to touch your cheek again. He leans down and kisses your other cheek. So tender. Maybe you’re just overthinking it. 

“Let’s go show you off.”

The party is being hosted in the nicest house you’ve been in, probably ever. A pool, and several bathrooms, and a view over the hills. Glass walls and hardwood floors and a fully stocked bar. You were expecting something closer to the parties you’d attended in high school.

“What does your friend do for a living?”

“Don’t know.” 

You shoot Fez a look but he doesn’t see you, with the small crowd of men walking up to greet him. 

They’re saying things like, “When’d you get out?” And “We gotta hang soon.” and “You look good, man.”

A few of them you recognize, and some you don’t. You break off to look for red solo cups and liquor bottles. It’s nice to go out and have fun. 

The first drink goes down a little rough. 

It’s been a long while since you’ve partied or drank, but the next one is a little better. You need this, because the more you drink, the less you stress about what you saw today. It’s easier to convince yourself that it’s nothing if you’re drunk. 

Fez looks at you across the crowded room and you give him a sly smile. He looks hungry. Your belly goes hot. 

Maybe it’s the vodka or maybe it’s the look in his eyes or maybe it’s all the memories of hooking up with him at various parties. 

You dance for a few songs, liquor on your tongue and smoke in the air. The room is dark and bright all at once and every time you look towards the couch, you catch sight of Fez. 

It’s easy to forget your anxieties when you’re tipsy and Fez is looking at you like he wants to eat you whole.

You throw a simple glance over your shoulder as you walk away from the dance floor, and you know without looking that he is following you. 

You hardly get the bathroom door open before you’re being pushed inside, Fez locking the door closed. 

When he lifts you onto the sink counter, your heart leaps. There was a point in time where you thought you’d never get to do something this juvenile again. 

The room is buzzing with flickering lights and muffled music and the electricity between you and Fez. 

He kisses you and you taste liquor on his tongue too. His fingers insinuate themselves between your legs, and when you gasp at his touch he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

You feel him slide your panties to the side and you know if he keeps going he will use his fingers to fuck you stupid. And you don’t want that just yet. You want to be totally clear eyed right now. 

You push his hand away and he stops immediately, breaking the kiss to look at you. 

“My turn first.” You say, pressing one last kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

You drop to your knees and lift the bottom of his shirt, slow and deliberate. The tile is cold on your knees. 

You breathe out, watching as his muscles tense. Then you lean in and kiss him right beneath his belly button, pressing your nose into his skin.

You glance up and he’s staring, his mouth slightly open. 

“Did you think about this a lot? When we were apart?”

He swallows, and you think maybe he’s struck dumb, even though this is hardly your first time going down on him since he was released. 

But then he speaks and plays along with your game.

“Before or after I got locked up?”

You shrug and kiss him on the belly again.

“Either.”

“Yes.” His already deep voice has pitched even lower. “I think about it a lot nowadays, too.”

That makes you clench your thighs. You wet your lips and press more kisses to his belly, bringing your hands up to hold his hips. The taste of his skin is making your mind go blissfully blank. 

“Sorry I didn’t get to this earlier. Kinda got distracted by your tongue in my mouth.” You say, unbuttoning the fly of his jeans. 

“S’okay.” He replies, voice all slow and gravelly. You huff out a laugh against his skin. 

Afterwards, you do let him fuck you stupid.

______________________________________

Two weeks later and Fez is doing another demo job. Seven o’clock and he’s still not home. 

You’re elbows deep in a hamper of clean, rumpled clothing. 

Fez always does the laundry. Truthfully, he’s better at folding and he’s more precious about his clothing than you are. Lots of thrifted vintage sweaters and polos and such that need to be washed just right and dried just right and folded just right.

But he’s busy at work, and you’re home and you think it would be a nice surprise. One less thing for him to worry about. You make sure to let his nicest sweaters air dry and everything. You fold to the best of your abilities. You change the sheets. And then you get to work putting everything away.

Your clothes and his hanging in the closet. Bras and panties in the dresser’s top drawer. Both your socks in the shared drawer beneath that one. Then his boxers in the following drawer. You move some of them aside to make room for the new, clean pairs, and your hand touches something cold. 

You pull the drawer out further and take everything out.

There are two phones there, sitting at the bottom of the drawer. Innocuous and hidden. 

You pick them up and turn them each in your hand. Neither of these are the phone he always carries.

You bite your lip, and wonder if maybe they’re just old phones he’s held onto. When you push the sleep buttons, they both come to life. Fully charged. Generic wallpaper. One has notifications, but the messages and sender are not displayed in the pop up. 

Fez is not someone you’ve ever suspected of cheating. And when people do cheat, there’s no need for an entirely different phone. 

No, these are burner phones. You didn’t date a drug dealer for years to not know them when you see them. 

You wish you’d been wrong. Honestly, in a fucked up way, you’d rather find out he’s cheating. 

You try unlocking them, but none of the pins you try work. Not his birthday, or your birthday, or Rue’s birthday, or his grandma’s. Not 1-2-3-4, not 0-0-0-0. 

The part of you that raises her voice, the part of you that cries when she’s angry, that part of you wants to grab both of these phones and throw them at Fez’s feet.

The more mature idea is to pack your shit and leave. Go back to your parents’ house and then find a roommate in some apartment near campus. Just get up and leave. Admit defeat.

He’s going to get himself killed, you think to yourself. 

You look at the phones in your hand and consider smashing them to pieces. Crack them against a flat surface and then leave them in the drawer for him to find. Or take the sim cards out and toss them out the window.

Maybe he’s trying to get himself killed, at this rate. It could be that. He’s been depressed. Maybe he wants to get himself shot by some other drug dealer, or the cops, and be with Ash.

No, that’s stupid. 

At best, he just doesn’t care that he could get himself killed. What matters more is the money, or maybe the familiarity. He’s never known any other way to live. And he hides it because he knows you’ll leave, just like you did two years ago. 

You’re getting dizzy trying to untangle this. 

You finally put the phones down, back where you found them, and you cover your face with your hands. You breathe in, then out. In, and out. 

You will talk this out. You’ll confront him, and he’ll apologize, and the two of you will leave this chapter behind.

__________________________________

When he gets home he kisses your mouth, and your cheek, and your neck. He seems in a good mood. He’s wearing the same cologne he always does. 

“How’s your day been?”

“Good.” You lie, and you watch him walk into his grandmother’s room, to check on her like he always does when he gets home. He steps out and finds you standing in the exact same spot. 

“You okay?” He asks, and you breathe in to steel yourself. 

You shake your head no and Fez steps closer, but you speak before he can touch you. 

“I know you’re dealing drugs again, Fez. And we need to talk about it.” 

His face shifts into something vaguely panicked before he smooths it over. 

“I’m not dealing drugs.” He replies, voice stern, and you start to seethe. Anxiety gone, replaced by rage-inducing hurt. 

“I found your burner phones.” You say and he closes his eyes. He sighs and when he opens his eyes, you’ve never seen him look more sorry. 

“Why are you doing this? Like, what the fuck, Fez.” 

Your voice is trembling. He looks ashen. 

“Do you want to fucking die?” You ask, outraged by his lies and his silence. And the question is rhetorical, but the silence that follows is harrowing.

He looks away, moving his eyes to look at the carpet, and you feel like your chest has cracked open. 

You wait for him to deny it, but he just keeps his eyes glued on the floor and he looks ashamed and now your chest goes from cracked open to completely caved in. 

“This ain’t about that.” He finally says. 

You wish you could take the words back. You wish you didn’t have to find out what you’d half suspected. It mixes with the pain of being lied to and it all becomes too much. 

Fuck. 

“I have to go.” You say, your voice calm and quiet, and you turn and walk to the bedroom.

“No,” he calls out, “Don’t do this shit again.”

You don’t answer and he calls your name out from somewhere behind you. 

“Please.” He says, voice cracking just a tiny bit. He’s standing in the doorway. 

You glance up at him from where you’re standing, opening up the closet. You’re so afraid you won’t be strong enough to make it out that door. 

You take your coat off the hook. 

“Baby, wait.” He says, grabbing the coat from your hands and tossing it to the side. 

You pick it up again and put it on. 

“I’m fucking begging you, don’t do this.”

Your heart is racing. 

“Move, Fez.” You shove him lightly and he moves easily. You grab a small pile of shirts and put them on the bed. 

“Don’t walk out on me.” He pleads, and your eyes flood with tears. You keep your head ducked as you grab your backpack and shove your shirts inside. 

“I have to.” You answer, throwing your phone in the bag and turning to the dresser for your underwear. 

“No, you don’t.” He’s following you around the room, trying to get you to look at him. 

“You’re dealing again. You lied to me.”

You glance at the door, wondering if you have the heart to actually go. To at least make these dramatics worth it. 

He follows your gaze. 

“Shit.” He shuts the door closed. “It’s not that. I’m not dealing.”

“Stop lying!”

“I’m not! Fuck.” He puts both hands on the back of his head and shuts his eyes. He breathes in before opening them again. “You gotta swear to me you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to say.” 

You don’t know what you expect him to say, but it definitely isn’t what comes next. 

“I’m an informant.” He says. 

And it all clicks. It all falls right into place. Christian, the secrecy, the phones. The stint in county jail - only nine months. 

“That’s how -“

“This is why you didn’t go to prison.” You interrupt. He swears under his breath. “You made a deal.”

“You wasn’t supposed to know this. It’s fuckin’... confidential. Some stupid bullshit like that.”

You just stare. 

“I’m sorry. You gotta believe me, baby. I’m sorry. But I couldn’t let you know.”

You sit down on the bed and he follows, crouching down in front of you. 

“You okay?” He asks, and you lick your suddenly dry lips. “Baby?”

“How long?” 

“What?”

“How long do you have to do this?” You clarify. 

“Until they can arrest my suppliers. Soon, I think.”

“You’re in danger.” You say. “You’re in even more danger than I thought.”

Your heart is breaking and he can see it in your eyes. 

“Don’t worry about that.” His voice is firm. And it’s like that summer two years ago, when you confronted him at the kitchen table. When he told you “don’t worry” and disappeared for three days. 

I’m going to lose you, you think. That old fear returning, in full bloom. 

“If your suppliers find out, they’ll kill you.” You say, completely exhausted. 

“They won’t.” He insists and he reaches up to cup your face in his hands, tilting your head to look him in his eyes. “Don’t worry and don’t tell anyone. I’m sorry, but I ain’t got a say in this. I just have to do this and then we can have that life we talked bout.”

______________________________________

The next night, Fez lingers at the front door and says he’s going to hang with Christian. He looks at you carefully as he says it. 

“Christian’s a cop, isn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

“So…what’s…” You struggle to find the words, but he understands. 

“So, the idea behind the operation is that I got outta jail and now Christian’s my new partner. And I’m dealing again. Working with my old supplier. Gotta have the cop with me as a witness. Watch the money get exchanged for the drugs.”

“Are you bringing drugs into our home?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Never. Christian takes it as evidence.”

“So what do you really do when you go out with him?”

“Been working our way up to meeting with my old supplier. She don’t trust me, so I’m dealing with her goons lately. Soon as she supplies me with something herself, they’re gonna arrest her and her whole crew.”

“Isn’t this going to put a giant target on your back?”

“Don’t know.”

“Do you trust Christian?”

Fez huffs. 

“It don’t really matter if I do. But yeah, I trust him as much as I could trust a cop.”

“Okay.” You say, and you tug on the end of his short cropped beard. “Be safe.”

Then you send him on his way. 

______________________________________

At some point, you realize Christian knows that you know. He comes over now and then, still, and you try to act normal. But you must not do a good job, because at one point his brown eyes pin you down and it’s like he’s telling you, I know. 

Still, the both of you dance around the topic for weeks, until one day he corners you. 

“You’re not gonna tell anyone, right?” He asks one night, while Fez uses the bathroom. 

You look up from the dishes you’re washing. He’s standing at the kitchen entrance. 

“Please don’t.” He continues. “I don’t want to tell anyone that Fez talked. It’ll fuck up his whole deal.” 

You nod. 

“Okay.” He says. “Good.”

His eyes are not unkind. You think about the times you’ve laughed with him, shared a drink with him, and wonder if he’s an amazing actor or if there’s a nugget of truth to it all. 

______________________________________

The week after Rue’s birthday, you and Fez are weighing your options between going to a party or staying in. The semester has just started and you think it would be nice to go to a college party. 

Then Fez’s phone rings. He picks up his phone, says nothing, and then goes to the buttons by your door. He holds down the button that opens the downstairs door. 

He hangs up and looks at you. 

He looks ready to say something, but then there’s frantic knocking at the door. He opens it and Christian rushes in, slamming the door closed behind him. 

“When’d she call you?” Fez asks. 

“Like ten fucking minutes ago. I had to race here.” Christian replies, breathless. “She’s definitely testing us if she called me and not you.”

You hear the click of gun and catch Christian tucking a pistol into his waistband. 

“Fuck.” Fez says, stretching the vowel out. 

“Tell her to get out.” Christian says, nodding in your direction, and you blanch. 

They’re coming here. They know where you and Fez live and they are coming here. 

Fez says your name and you re-enter your body. You can suddenly hear that he’s bickering with the man. 

“Your fucking girlfriend is gonna -”

“Yo, shut the fuck up.” Red creeps up his neck and to his face. You’ve rarely seen him get angry like that.

He turns to you then and his eyes are hard and intense. His brow is furrowed.

“I need you to listen to me. I’m not fucking playing.” He steps forward and puts one hand on your upper arm. The touch is light but insistent. 

“What the fuck is going on?”

“Baby.” He stresses the word. “Listen to me. Go to Faye’s or Rue’s or your parents. Wherever. Just don’t come back until I call you.”

You nod and glance at Christian, who is looking at you with something like impatience mixed with sympathy. 

“Okay.” You grab your purse and your keys and make for the door, with one last glance at Fez. 

He looks calm. 

If anything happens to him you’re going to destroy lives. Worlds. Everything. 

You open the door and practically tear out of the hallway, but when a neighbor throws you a confused look as you pass her by, you slow down. 

“Fight with the boyfriend?” She asks and you try to smile. 

“Something like that.”

She walks around the corner, to her apartment, and you skid to a halt in front of the elevator. You push the button once, twice, three times. Then three more times for safe measure. 

When it arrives you do the same with the “close door” button. You’re debating who to go to - Faye is your best bet - when the doors open and you come face to face with a brunette. Behind her are two men - one bald and one with stringy, long blond hair. 

“Oh.” The woman says. “You’re Fezco’s girlfriend.”

It is not a question. 

“Let’s go see him together.” Says the bald man to her left, and as they walk in you press your back to the elevator wall. 

Shit. 

The other man trails in with a suitcase rolling behind him. 

“Fourth floor, right?” The woman says in an odd monotone. It’s polite and unpleasant. 

You nod. Her goon presses the button for the fourth floor. 

“My name is Laurie.” She says, halfway through the elevator ride. “What’s your name?”

You swallow. You do not want this woman to know your name but you tell her anyway. 

“That’s a pretty name.” She comments, and the doors open. 

______________________________________

Fez still looks calm, even when Christian opens the door and sees Laurie, her goons, and you. His eyes catch on yours, and he opens the door all the way and Fez looks at you with an expression that’s almost placid. 

He stands. 

“Why you bringing my girl into this?” He says. 

“We ran into her in the elevator.” Laurie replies, and leaves it at that. 

Fez calls your name and nods at the spot next to himself. 

“C’mere”. 

You lick your lips and glance across the room before you walk to Fez’s side. Laurie and her men just watch you go without complaint. 

“Aight now sit your ass down.” He says, quietly but not so quiet that only you can hear it. You plant your ass on the sofa. 

“Should we get to business?” Christian says, walking into the fray. 

The guy with long blond hair pulls the suitcase along by the handle. Laurie crosses the room and sits in the chair across from you. 

“You have a bad habit of bringing around people you shouldn’t bring around, Fez. It’s really not safe.” Laurie says, like she’s imparting wisdom. 

“First it was your brother.” She continues. “And Ruby Bennett. Now her.” 

Your stomach churns at the mention of Ash, and then again at the knowledge that Rue was ever mixed up with this woman. 

“Let’s get rid of the girl, then.” Christian supplies. “Send her to her room.” 

The bald goon reaches his hand behind himself, and you know he had a gun there, tucked into his waistband. 

“We like to keep an eye on everyone, all in one room. That’s how we conduct business.” He says. 

Christian eyes him, looking unbothered, and then looks at Fez. 

Fez shrugs. 

“If that’s how you wanna do it, that’s how we finna do it.” He concedes. 

“Don’t worry, we won’t make you strip naked this time.” The bald one says, and that piques your interest. 

Then he turns his eyes on you. 

“Yo, let’s hear some music. You got a stereo?”

You stand, unsure what to do, and when you look at Fez, he nods. 

“Um, sure.” You brush past Fez, past Christian and the blond, and kneel in front of the TV console. 

You pick out that Weeknd CD you got Fez for his seventeenth birthday, and the room is dead silent as you open the jewel case, the click of it deafening. 

You remove the cd, open the tray, and watch as it slowly accepts the disc. The sound of it whirring and starting up fills the room until music finally sounds out. 

“Turn it up.” The bald one commands, and you glance at him before obeying. You turn the volume knob a few notches. 

“Louder.” He says, and you go even louder, wincing when the speakers blast the music out by your ears. 

You glance at the man again, but he says nothing. 

“Aight, c’mere.” Fez calls and you stand slowly before returning to his side. 

“Brucie.” Laurie says, and the bald guy steps forward. “I think we should check her for a wire. Could you?”

Your heart drops. 

Brucie steps forward and Fez steps in front of you. 

“That ain’t necessary.” He says. 

“How can you expect there to be trust between us if you don’t let us make sure?” Laurie says, and you can only partly see her. Fez’s arm is blocking your view. 

“Yo, you’re the one who brought her in here.” Christian complains. 

“Couldn’t risk her running off and telling the cops about this meeting. We don’t know how much she knows.” Bruce replies. 

“You want the drugs, or should we just leave?” The blond asks. 

“She ain’t stripping.” Fez insists. 

“Fezco, how about this: Everyone can turn around and it’ll be just us girls.”

“It’s fine.” You say, mostly to Fez. He turns his head and sends you a withering look. You can’t be the one to fuck this up. You can’t let Fez or Christian get hurt on your account. 

“See? It’s fine.” Laurie says. “Could you all turn around please?”

Everyone in the room obeys, even Christian. Fez licks his lips, glances between Laurie and you, and steps aside when you nod. 

But then you struggle with the button of the shorts. You try once to push it through the button hole, but your fingers are sweaty and trembling. You try one more time and it stubbornly slips from your grasp. 

Fez’s hands push yours aside, his fingers steady and dry. He unbuttons your fly and pulls down the zipper. 

Then he gets on his knees and looks up at you. The look in his blue eyes is like a cool balm on your skin. He tugs on your shorts and shimmies them down your hips, along your thighs, until they hit the floor. 

The air is cold on your legs. You don’t know what to do with your shaking hands. 

Fez stands again, and you look up. Laurie is watching the two of you with mild interest. Her gaze is almost clinical. 

“C’mon.” Fez mumbles, practically whispers, and you snap back into your body. You lift your top up from the bottom, and then Fez pulls it off from your arms. You hear it flutter to the floor, in a pile with your shorts. 

You stand there in your bra and panties, a Weeknd song blasting at full volume and making it all more surreal. 

There’s a short pause. Laurie blinks. It hits you that this is a mind game more than anything. 

Then you feel Fez’s fingers dipping beneath the band of your bra, pulling at the clasps. 

“That’s fine, Fez.” Laurie interrupts and Fez’s fingers freeze. “I can see she’s not wearing a wire. No need to go whole hog.” 

He steps away and you realize you will have to get dressed on your own. 

You practically hop back into your shorts, and you’re lifting the shirt over your head when Laurie tells everyone they can turn around again. 

You don’t miss the worried look Christian gives you. You try to make an expression with your face that says “I’m okay.” But you’re not sure you executed it right. 

“So.” Fez says, sounding almost bored. He sits down on the arm of the couch and you mimic him, sitting on the cushions. 

“I hope you don’t mind all the hubbub, guys. I don’t like letting anyone else handle this suitcase. I prefer to deliver it myself.” Laurie says, and you glance at the luggage again. 

Of course. It’s filled with drugs. 

“How much you want for it?” Fez asks, and you’re dumbstruck by how calm he is. 

You never saw him speak with suppliers. Oftentimes you really only saw Fez selling weed and pills at parties or at the store. And he was always the more dangerous person in those situations, compared with his buyers. 

Here, he’s definitely the one at a disadvantage. 

But he’s used to this shit. Ash was used to this shit. Sitting in rooms with extremely dangerous people, not a drop of sweat on their bodies. 

You wipe your palms on your thighs. 

“It’s worth 50k.” Laurie says. “You can flip it for 100k. You and Christian come back in two months with the original cost and 16k for me. You gentlemen can split your profits however you want.”

“What do you think bout this, man?” Fez asks, looking at Christian. 

Christian shrugs. 

“I like it. Whatever you wanna do, boss.”

Fez sniffs. 

“Aight, you got a deal.”

Brucie grabs the suitcase and slams it down on your coffee table. When he unzips it, you can hardly make sense of what is inside of it. Pill bottles, needles, patches, liquids. 

“The fentanyl legit?” Christian asks. He’s peering into the suitcase. Fez picks up a pill bottle and examines the label. 

“Of fuckin course it is.” Brucie replies. 

“Just makin sure.”

“I’ll see you guys in two months, then.” Laurie says, standing from the chair. 

She leads her men out of the apartment and when the door shuts behind them, Fez sits on the couch. 

“Fuck.” He whispers it, pressing a hand over his eyes. 

“You fuckin did it, man.” Christian says, turning off the stereo. Then he opens his phone and makes a call. 

“We got the suitcase. They’re on their way down right now.” He hangs up and sits too, right there on the floor in front of the TV console, body sagging. 

The three of you sit in the living room, listening to each other’s breathing. And then you hear sirens. It sounds like there are a dozen cars out there. 

“Why so many cops?” You ask, still feeling a tiny bit out of body. 

Christian looks up at you. 

“They’re part of a sex trafficking ring.” He says, and your blood goes cold. “We’re gonna nail them on the drugs and then search their apartment and nail them on the trafficking.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He stands and zips up the suitcase.  “You played it cool. You probably saved us from everything goin sideways.”

He turns to Fez, who looks a little winded. 

“You alright, man?” He asks, and it occurs to you that Christian actually likes Fez. Like, actually, truly. It’s hard not to like Fez, really. But it still surprises you. 

“I’ll be aight, bro.”

Christian nods. 

“We’ll talk later.” He says. “Lots of paperwork.”

The sirens are fading. Christian nods at you, grabs the suitcase, then turns and leaves. 

You almost launch yourself into Fez’s arms and he holds you so tight your bones ache. 

You don’t even realize you’re crying until you register Fez shushing you and petting your hair. 

“It’s okay, baby.” He soothes. “It’s over now.”

It’s over. No one can take him away from you now. You somehow smile between the tears and the hiccups. 

______________________________________

A month later, you get home from class and find Fez grinning at you from his spot on the couch. 

God, that couch has been through a lot. You and Fez christening it the day he got out of jail. You and Faye getting pen ink on it. The multiple times Rue has slept over and drooled all over it. The countless blunts that have perfumed its cushions. 

You clean it and Febreze it, though. So it’s not that bad. 

“C’mere.” He says, looking like a king from his seat on the sofa. You smile back and cock your head. 

“Okay.” You drop your bag and kick off your shoes. When you reach the sofa, he grabs the back of your thighs and pulls you onto his lap, your legs straddling him. 

“What’s got you so excited?” You say, amused. 

“I got you something.” He grins even wider. 

“What?” 

He reaches into his pocket with one hand, the other on your hip to keep you steady. 

“This.” He says, and in his fingers he has a gold ring. It’s positively gleaming. 

“No fucking way.”

He laughs. 

“Yes fucking way.”

“Fez…”

“Told you I’d give you everything you wanted.”

You feel like a hummingbird has made its home in your chest. You grab his face with both hands and kiss him. You pull back when he tugs on your hand. 

It’s like a dream, watching him pull your left hand in front of him. 

You let him slip the ring onto your finger, staring all the while. 

“You gonna say yes?” He asks, and you just nod.

All the words in your head die in your mouth. The only thing you can do is kiss him again and again until you’re just passing the same breath between each other. When you finally stop, his cheeks are flushed. 

You take one hand off his chest and lift it to the side of his face. You brush one finger along his cheekbone and then his nose. 

“You’re mine.” You tell him, and his eyes are glued to your own. 

Your thumb slips into his mouth easily. He closes his lips around it, at the knuckle, his eyes never leaving your own. God, you love his eyes. His irises all blue and his lashes all gorgeous.

You take your finger out of his hot mouth and he turns his head to kiss your palm. 

“You’re mine, too.” He says, his voice surprisingly steady compared to your own.

“Yes.” You breathe.

“You’re beautiful.” He praises you. 

“So are you.”

He laughs and the sound of it shoots right up into your chest, warm and thrilling.

“I can’t fucking believe you’re mine. Y’know everyone’s jealous of me?” He takes your arm and kisses your wrist, working his way up to the crook of your arm. He noses at the thin, sensitive skin before pressing a delicate kiss there. “My girl’s gorgeous, smart, and loyal.” 

He looks up at you, eyes intense, mouth and nose hidden in your elbow. His pupils are blown out.

“Kiss me.” You command, breathless, and he obeys eagerly.

“I’m never gonna let you go again.” He says it against your lips. Your mouth tingles. 

“Good. Don’t.”

----

authors note: just a couple things i want to say!

first off thank you to @shanay25 for all the song suggestions. i loved all of them but the tems song really spoke to me and i hope you can see how it influenced this part of my story.

next, thank you to everyone who has read, liked, reblogged, commented, sent an ask etc. i read every tag and comment and wish i could reply to all of you!

i wrote the first part thinking it would be a one-shot, but with everyone’s encouragement a whole story came to life in my mind. thank you all so much. i really love to talk about this stuff with you, please know my inbox is always open to talk about anything! i simply don’t reply to replies just to keep my main blog separate from this sideblog. let me know what you thought of this story, please.

thirdly, i’m pretty proud of myself for the way i (hopefully) tricked all of you with the preview excerpt at the top about fez undressing his girlfriend. >:^)

and lastly...i picture christian looking like a young christian slater, LMAO.

a couple people asked to be tagged ! here you go:

@jeyramarie @scenesofobx

[luveline]

a special friend, part 4 [Fred Weasley x reader]

summary: you finish school, get a job, break your hand and make away with fred weasley in the process

tags: mutual pining, getting together, implied/referenced self-harm, the self-harm isn’t graphic but it is there so be aware before reading, hurt/comfort, mental health issues

word count: 9.5k

read part one / part two / part three here

The summer after you turned 18, you worked in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes for the managers, your best friends, Fred and George Weasley. You’d finished your NEWTs, scraping a few Acceptable’s and a sad bunch of Poor’s. This didn’t matter too much to the boys, as they didn’t bother sitting their own at all.

Oh, how Molly raged. She sent you letters, begging you to tell them to reconsider. You sent them letters, begging them to do as their mother said. They never bloody listened to anybody once they made their minds up. You struggled through your last couple of months at Hogwarts whilst they set up shop. By the time you finished school, the shop was the most brightly lit and overly loud storefront on Diagon Alley.

You didn’t have the mind for arithmetic, so that ruled out being their accountant. And a lot of their stock was handmade, so you couldn’t help with that either. This resulted in you mostly running their errands and stocking the floor.

It was a disgustingly nice life considering you were simply mooching a job from your friends. You still lived at home with your mother, though you often spent the night in the sofa bed upstairs.

Admittedly, it had taken you a while to recover from the upset that being alone had caused you. To be fair to them, as soon as the twins had left, Ron and Ginny had (obviously) been tasked with checking up on you, inviting you to breakfast and quidditch matches. It was awkward and transparent, but by the end of the year Ron tolerated you and Ginny could speak to you without cracking up, so strides were made. Still, you’d been lonely. The twins knew this, and deep down you thought that they were still trying to make it up to you by being overly kind and loving. The steady supply of gifts they’d sent you during your NEWTs continued to this day, though they were given in person.

Ridiculous things, jars of sweets that were bigger than your head and enough throw blankets to fill a caravan. And horribly thoughtful things - books on meditation, boxes of plasters with smiley faces drawn on each one in biro and an abundance of letters.

They were the best and worst parts. You kept them in a drawer in your bedroom. Your favourite one was one they’d sent the week they’d left. It was especially apologetic.

Our darling ghost, our most precious friend, our radiant star.

Every letter said the same thing in different words.

Take care of yourself, look after yourself, are you eating, Ron says you’re getting skinnier, Ron says your hand was bleeding at breakfast, please take care of yourself, we can come and get you if it’s what you need.

On Hogsmeade weekends you’d meet up for hours at a time in the Three Broomsticks where they’d grovel and fawn over you like you were a dying woman. You couldn’t count how many times you’d been apologized to or how many hugs you’d been forced into.

They were right to be concerned. The terrible thing about suddenly having friends again was that it hurt worse to be alone afterwards. You could barely eat, submerged in a lonely haze. You struggled to talk, though you made a big effort when seeing any Weasley. One or both of them must have expressed concern to their mother, who sent you letters herself asking after your health.

‘We’re so excited for you to finish up school, dear. Work hard and take care of yourself.’ She had written once. You’d cried for hours.

And you’d done it! You finished school. The train ride home had been sickeningly bittersweet. Your sour mood had dissipated completely when you noticed that right beside your mother, Fred and George waited. You had almost ran to them and Fred had spun you in circles, showering you with compliments.

“Brilliant girl,” he’d said.

Brilliant girl. He said it in your dreams sometimes.

You didn’t feel so brilliant now. Your hair was sticking to your sweaty forehead, struggling free from your ponytail. You preferred to stock the shelves by hand instead of using magic, it helped you feel as though you were actually working for your pay instead of mooching off two fools who liked you too much for their own good.

The shop would be closing soon. In the snug darkness of the stockroom, you could hear one of the twins shepherding stray patrons out of the door.

You took a moment to sit on the stool tucked away for moments like this. George had made it very clear when you’d started working there that at any time if you felt overwhelmed you could make a break for the storeroom. You tried your hardest to keep these visits to a minimum, but some days were worse than others.

You covered your face with your hands that smelled faintly like the hand soap from the upstairs bathroom, breathing in deeply.

For once, you’d been having a great day. You hadn’t smashed or broken any merchandise, it had been weeks since the last time you’d been the victim of a punching telescope and even longer since you’d been bitten by a Pygmy Puff. It had been a customer.

You often worked the floor and helped anyone who needed assistance. This included multitudinous students from Hogwarts, many of which recognized you in some far off way or vaguely knew your face. But today was the worst. A girl from your dormitory had been browsing the love potion display (a display you had strongly contested). You’d had many conversations with her, had maybe even had something close to friendship when you’d been younger. Feeling mildly confident, you’d said hello, asking her how she’d been since Hogwarts was over for you both.

She’d stared at you so blankly. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

On the outside you’d laughed it off, saying how you must be confused.

You were taking it hard. It was so difficult for you to talk to people and put yourself out there and encounters like this with women like her made it so much more difficult.

Angelina, George’s girlfriend and someone you’d also shared a dorm room with, had been passing by and assured you that you weren’t silly for asking how she was. “She’s a stuck-up bitch,” Angelina had said, smiling at you kindly. “Try to ignore it.”

You tried. You always tried. It wasn’t ever good enough.

Now you sat in the stock room, breathing hard. Were you forgettable, unlikable? The unfortunate interaction helped confirm your suspicions that you were invisible to others. And when they could see you, they didn’t want to, not one bit.

The loneliness was palpable sometimes. Fred and George were amazing friends, and though you had a huge crush on Fred, that was what they would both stay. If you couldn’t even get a girl who’d lived in the same room as you for seven years to acknowledge your existence, how would you ever find a person who could stand you enough to love you? Would you ever be loved so deeply, or would you be alone forever and ever?

You knew it was silly to worry about these things. Fred loved to remind you that you were young and pretty and capable all by yourself because somehow you always doubted it. You couldn’t help it. It was second nature to assume the worst of yourself.

The tears were quiet and ugly. You really didn’t want to cry. You sniffled and dabbed at your eyes, though the tears showed no signs of slowing down, hands covering your face.

It felt hopeless.

You heard movement near the door. You flinched, using your long sleeves to dry your face off and pinch your nose clean.

You finished sorting through the Pygmy Puff food as quickly as you could and locked the stock room door behind you as you left. George and Angelina were lurking near the register, flirting like schoolkids whilst George counted up the proceeds of the day. You looked in the mirror stationed above the Peruvian darkness powder display at your red face.

Your hair was rumpled, your baby hairs frizzy and unordered. Your lips were chapped and dark circles peaked through the concealer you’d applied uselessly this morning. You felt so horribly miserable at that moment, everything condensing atop you that it caused a new wave of tears to start.

You turned your face so that George nor Angelina could see it and prayed you sounded normal.

“I’m going out for some air,” you said as loud as you could manage.

You didn’t wait for a response. The bell above the door jingled behind you.

The warm summer air felt nice on your damp face. You looked up at the big empty sky and sniffled again. You felt ugly inside and out today. Sitting on the cold pavement outside the shop you pressed your face deep into your knees, trying to escape the nauseous feeling that had followed you around all day. When it refused to dissipate, you pinched red polka dots from wrist to crook of your elbow and gave in to it.

You felt so alone.

You spent a long long while like that, knees dirty. The shop door opened and you forced yourself to look normal, rolling down your scrunched up sleeves.

“Are you staying for dinner?” Fred asked.

He was dressed in black slacks and a navy button down, hair tousled perfectly. He was as handsome as ever and the summer sun had brought all of his freckles out marvellously, giving him a sun-kissed look that drew you in like a moth to a flame.

You more often than not stayed for dinner to avoid the speech that came with skipping meals. And because you liked him very much.

“Yes, please.”

“So polite,” he said, crouching to be eye level with you where you sat on your knees.

“What’s the matter?”

“Sorry,” you said, wiping the wetness from your eyelashes. “I’m just tired.”

“Not too tired for minestrone, I hope.”

“Never,” you laughed at him.

“Good work today,” he said, standing up. He offered you a hand and you accepted, though when he pulled you up you almost fell back down with your aching knees.

“You staying over?” he asked, holding the door open for you.

“Can I? I’ll only have to floo back for your mum’s tomorrow morning.” You said, starting up the stairs. You were referring to Molly’s standing invite for breakfast on Saturday’s now that everyone was either all grown up or on summer holidays.

“Course you can,” Fred said, ascending the final few steps to the upstairs flat.

The door was open already. George and Angelina were probably hidden away in his bedroom, waiting for Fred and yourself before they started making dinner preparations.

“You want a toastie too?”

“No,” you said, dropping unceremoniously into one of the well-worn dining table chairs.

“Not even half?”

“No thanks, Freddie,” you said, endlessly fond.

“Vagabond.”

You held your head up with your hand. You could imagine a life with him like this where you both came home from work and cooked dinner and slept in the same bed. Watching as he started taking out the leftover vegetables from the fridge and frozen stock, you knew you should be helping him, especially because he was making minestrone because you liked it so much, and that made you feel like screaming very loudly until you couldn’t breathe.If he had his way the twins would be living off takeaway and plates from Molly’s kitchen.

You were planning on helping, definitely, but your head felt as heavy as your heart at that moment. Without thinking you put your face down on their hardwood table, eyes tracing scratches in the wood grain, covering your head with your hands like a child afraid.

Fred was talking about how the punching telescopes were probably going to need to be locked away because the price of bruise balm he had to give out was getting on top of them. You wanted to tell him that he should stop having a huge heart and that he should be selling the balm instead of giving it out - he was a prankster, after all - but you couldn’t get the words out.

You were spiralling and you knew that. The worst part is that being self-aware about your meltdown didn’t make them easier to handle, it made you feel more embarrassed.

You tried to say something about helping make the soup and it came out garbled against the table.

“You stay right there.”

Easy. The sounds of chopping faded away. Your ears were ringing so loudly you couldn’t hear much else. You gave yourself five minutes of this, the table and the ringing and the bad feelings, then you clawed your way out. Fred was watching you as you resurfaced, with that look on his face where you knew he felt sad for you but didn’t want you to know. Too bad he was an open book.

“It’s not that bad today,” you said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He turned the soup to simmer and ladled a bowl for himself and a bowl for you, transferring the toastie he’d made onto his plate. It all smelled amazing. He’d cut the carrots as small as you liked. He put the plates down and sat in the chair next to you.

You knew even if it made you sick you would’ve attempted the whole bowl to show him how much you appreciated him. He might’ve known this too because he always gave you very reasonable portion sizes.

He broke the toastie apart in his hands and put half on your plate without saying anything.

“Where’s George and Angelina?” you asked, dipping the bread in your bowl. Fred was blowing the steam from his spoonful.

“I regret to inform you, I’m 98 per cent sure that they are, in fact, canoodling.”

You bit down on your cheek so hard it made you flinch.

“Canoodling,” you said, shocked.

“They’re fucking.”

“No, I knew what you meant, Fred,” you said, sounding strangled.

“Right,” he said regretfully. “Those crazy kids.”

“It’s not so crazy, really. Isn’t that what people our age do?”

“We’re our age and we don’t,” Fred said through a mouthful.

“We don’t?”

“Well, do you?” Fred asked, looking at you quizzically.

“I think you’d probably know if I was,” you said. “Are you?”

Fred was silent.

“Oh my god,” you said. “You are!”

“Are you messing with me? No, sweetheart, I’m not fucking anyone.”

This was not a conversation to be had over soup.

“Have you ever…”

“Had sex? I’m 19, so guess.”

“That’s not what I was going to say,” you laughed, shaking your head. Your scalp was starting to ache from the weight of your ponytail. You pulled it out, running your fingers through the limp hair to try and hide your bobble line and then tucking it behind your ears, feeling relieved.

“What, then?” he asked. He put your half-full bowl in his empty one, taking them to the sink. You followed him, planning on stealing the washing-up duties from him.

“Have you had a girlfriend before? Or a boyfriend?”

He laughed. “I saw Angelina on and off after the Yule ball. But not really, otherwise.”

You nodded, beginning to scrub the bowl you’d picked up with renewed vigour. Fred reached around you to put the frying pan in the sink, his arm against yours. He was on drying duty, a tea towel over his shoulder.

“What about you? Any school romance?”

“Don’t you think this is the kind of stuff we should already know about one another?”

“No,” he said easily, taking the clean bowl from your hands before you could set it on the drying rack. “Maybe. It’s never mattered.”

“I had a boyfriend. For a year and a half, 5th and 6th year.”

He heard the bitterness in your voice.

“Johnathan Cronus. He was on the quidditch team-”

“-before he got kicked off for trying to push Diggory off his broom,” he finished. “He try pushing you?” he asked, mouth pursed.

“No! God, no. He was nice, most of the time.”

“The rest of the time?”

You turned off the tap and dried yourself off with the towel he held, looking up into his face to smile reassuringly.

“He didn’t understand why I couldn’t be happy. When he realized I wasn’t going to get better, we got into a stupid fight, then we broke up. It was a long time ago,” you said, leaning on the counter behind you both.

“It must’ve hurt still.”

“He ended up with my best friend, so yes.”

“He didn’t end up with me,” Fred joked, nudging your shoulder with his.

You smiled. He was right about that, whoever your best friend had been, Fred was your best friend now. That’s why all that stuff that happened before, all the pain and grief of losing friends and loneliness, was bearable now. It was still annoying to think about and hurtful in the acute way ending friendships was, but it was bearable.

You leaned heavily into his side and he wrapped his arm around your shoulders like you’d hoped he would.

-

That night you lay on the sofa bed feeling intensely jealous. George and Angelina had eventually appeared for dinner, looking exuberantly happy. You and Fred had been sitting on the sofa watching tv, some weird show about muggle doctors who kept falling in love with each other. George and Angelina had been holding hands while they warmed up the minestrone.

They’d sat on the floor to watch tv with you, making funny jokes and laughing loudly. You and Fred had a healthy two inches of space between you.

You hadn’t thought much of it at the time besides that it was nice to see such earnest love between two people, especially a friend who’d taken care of you and supported you so often.

But now, sleeping on the twins' pull out futon, you couldn’t help but wish to do what they were doing. It was grating. You knew that tonight, George and Angelina would sleep together as they did most nights, content. You wished you could be doing the same with Fred.

You were a coward, you always had been, so it made sense that this would never happen. Maybe Fred would find a perfect girl like Angelina, stunningly attractive, motivated and determined. A girl who didn’t need to calm herself down from the throes of panic each time something slightly bad happened to her. You were jealous of a future partner that didn’t exist.

You stared at the tv on mute for hours. The sofa bed creaked each time you moved so you waited until you were certain you needed a drink before moving.

You padded through the darkened hallway to the kitchen, lit by the streetlamps outside, the warm yellow light throwing golden lines up the cupboards and walls. You didn’t bother with the light, feeling out the handles and your favourite glass, a rounded cup adorned with tiny glass indents in the shape of flowers, by memory alone.

Sipping slowly at your water, you swore you could make out the familiar soft snore of the boy you adored.

-

As the summer drew to a close your shifts became longer. Many times Fred and George had tried to send you home at your usual finishing time, but the store had still been packed with your wizards and witches looking for the perfect concoctions to store away for the forthcoming school year. You found yourself working long hours, as did the boys, the three of you non-stop stocking and restocking. It got so busy you found yourself on the till a couple of times.

Today was one of those days. Fred had gone to scrounge up some more puking pastilles, their top sellers, and George had been fixing a display that somebody had knocked over and was proving difficult to repair.

This was the part of the job you liked least, finding it difficult to keep up a facade with customers and to talk to people you were unfamiliar with. You’d known Fred and George’s mother for almost 9 months and could still barely manage a conversation with her over dinner. What hope did you have of manoeuvring chit-chat with strangers?

Very little hope, it turned out. Many were dissatisfied with your awkward lilting voice and trembling hands. One bold man even offered to take over the tills himself when it took you a solid three minutes to work out what change he needed. You weren’t stupid or slow, though there was no shame in being either, you struggled to think under the pressure.

You slammed the mechanical till shut on your fingers and had to take a moment to yourself. You pulled it open with a gasp, the customer in front of you gawping at you as your eyes filled with tears. Your hand was bright red, already purpling in stripes where the metal had squeezed you too tightly. You examined your shaking hand in front of your face, the blood leaking at an astonishing rate, and found yourself sitting on the floor.

-

George was minding his own business, narrowly avoiding becoming a human doormat as he attempted to right the broken interior of a wooden display case that was refusing the loving reparo’s he had sent its way when a young man approached him.

He must have been around 11-years old. “Mr Weasley,” he said urgently. “The girl at the back is bleeding really badly!”

George felt his eyebrows come together in concern. He rushed to his feet, firmly patting the kid on the shoulder in thanks.

You were indeed bleeding very badly, sitting behind the countertop that housed the till. A small crowd had gathered to watch. You noticed none of this, staring at your bloodied fingers in an awful expression of horror. George frowned at the tears on your face, not knowing for a split second what to do. He leaned forward and hooked his arms under you, lifting you up.

“Alright! Shop’s closed for today! Thank you for your business!” He shouted to be heard over the hubbub, the people who’d gathered by the tills peeled away, some bemoaning their missed purchases. George pushed you so that your back was leaning against the countertop and took your bleeding hand into his own.

“How have you done this?” he asked you.

You looked at him blankly.

He could feel his heart beating in panic. You weren’t responding.

“Y/N? We’ll fix it, okay?”

You nodded, fat tears rolling down your cheeks out of sync.

He couldn’t do a mending charm without causing bad scarring, that he knew. He couldn’t cast Vulnera Sanentur to save a life! And what if your fingers were broken? From the state of you, he assumed they were.

Fred appeared in the nick of time, arms full of boxes. “Where’d everyone go? Oh, Y/N!” He exclaimed, half dropping the boxes to the floor.

“How’ve you done this?” he asked, perfectly mirroring George, his arm instantly finding a comforting place around your arms.

“Slammed in the till,” you stuttered, face white.

“Mending?” Fred asked George.

George shook his head. “The scars, look how she’s bleeding.”

He wanted dittany more than anything, but he had no clue where the little bottle they kept was - the first aid kit? The bathroom?

“Accio dittany,” he said, pointing his wand in the general direction of the flat. The tiny vial whizzed down the stairs and would’ve hit the door full pelt if he hadn’t pulled it open just in time, catching the dittany in his hands.

He pulled the cork clean with his teeth, tipping the contents onto your crooked fingers non too gently. The dittany quickly began mending the many cuts, sewing the skin together before your eyes. The leftover ran into the blood, creating a murky copper liquid that dribbled down your wrists and onto the hardwood flooring.

Your hands still hurt, the skin still darkened and purpled. Fred pulled his wand out and pointed it at your hand, taking a steadying breath. He performed a moderate mending charm, watching with bated breath as the skin yellowed, reddened, and then returned to its normal complexion.

You were still shocked, the memory of the pain hard to forget. You were usually good with pain, the shock and the intensity definitely catching you out.

“Thanks,” you said stuffily.

“Yeah, you’re welcome.” The twins said in unison.

You felt embarrassed. “Godric, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, you dolt,” said George.

“Accidents happen all the time,” said Fred.

“Like that time Fred burnt his eyebrows off making burning bonbons,”

“Yeah,” Fred said testily. “Or the time George pissed himself drinking wine coolers at Lee Jordan’s Garden party last summer!”

“Or the time Fred fell down the stairs trying to spy on the beauxbatons girls!” George exclaimed, saccharine.

“I wasn’t spying, dickhead. You were literally standing right next to me!”

“Semantics,” George said.

You chuckled weakly, wiping your face. You didn’t trust your freshly healed hand, though you didn’t doubt Fred’s spellwork. It still felt wrong.

“I’m sorry you had to close early.”

“Nah, don’t be. I think you deserve a nice night off after that whole malarky.” George said.

“You’ve been working too hard, doll,” Fred said. George turned from you both to return the puking pastilles again to their respective shelf.

“Pot,” you said.

“You’re a pot. I’m the kettle.”

You mock glared at him. “You’re a thorn in my side.”

“Don’t be like that,” he said much too closely, face so close you could feel the exhale on your cheek. You were still shaking from your injury, adrenaline pumping. The skin of your arm was still streaked in blood and dittany.

“Alright, let’s go clean you up,” Fred said, essentially carrying you up the stairs to the flat.

You made your way to the bathroom, Fred clicking lights on as you went. It was a small room, a countertop about 8 feet wide with a sink in the middle, the cupboard underneath rammed with miscellaneous things, bathroom related and not so much. You couldn’t stop trembling long enough to hold your arm under the sink.

“Okay, up we go,” Fred said, lifting you with ease to set you on the countertop. You couldn’t stop looking at your hand.

Fred procured a washcloth and held it under the warm water. He washed the blood from your arm with all the gentleness and softness you’d come to expect from him. He held your arm lightly over the sink so any bloody dripping would land in the sink, though you couldn’t understand why - your clothes were already smattered in red flecks.

The pain was over but you were still overcome with emotion; the shock, the hurting, Fred’s tenderness. It was a lot - it was too much. You used your cleanest arm to wipe the fresh tears away.

Fred took a double-take. “Still hurts?”

“No,” you said weakly.

He dumped the cloth in the sink. “Hey,” he said, wrapping his arms around you from under your armpits, almost like he was going to lift you up. You hugged him back without thinking, pressing your damp face into the neckline of his shirt.

“You’re overwhelmed,” he reassured you, his throat moving against your shoulder with each word. “Take a deep breath. It’ll go away. Take a deep breath.”

“It was supposed to be easy. I couldn’t even do the easy stuff right,” you said mournfully.

“You’re not even supposed to be on till, Y/N. It’s my fault.”

“No,” you whispered. “It’s not your fault.”

He squeezed you tightly to his chest.

“You’re shaking,” he whispered back.

“It’ll go away,” you repeated his words back to him.

-

The only person you ever got angry at was yourself. You used to get angry at everything, everyone when you were younger. But something happened to you as you grew, the people-pleasing and the lack of forgiveness in people soured everything about you, and now you were this quiet, pathetic mess who couldn’t let it go.

Fred stayed with you that night, both of you with your feet up on the sofa and that respectable 2-inch gap, and you were so angry at yourself you couldn’t bear to look at him.

He kept turning his head to look at you in your peripherals. You ground your teeth together, jaw-locked, wanting to go home. If you could go home you could be angry at yourself in private, you could punish yourself however you wanted. And you did want, you’d made a stupid mistake today that had not only inconvenienced Fred and George - you’d lost them money. Not that they would ever say this to you, but you had. And you knew times were hard for the Weasley’s and you never ever wanted to be a cause for those hard times.

You had to close your eyes against the feelings of self-loathing. George had given Fred a meaningful stare before he left for Angelina’s. You couldn’t decipher what he’d meant.

The tv was set to a charts show channel. Both yourself and Fred were pretending to read your own respective books, though you were a much better actor, remembering to turn pages and move your eyes. Still, you hadn’t managed to take in a single line in the last hour.

You were sickeningly mad and you couldn’t hurt yourself without hurting Fred.

Feeling eyes on your face, you turned. Fred was staring at you.

You offered him a look that said, what do you want?

He held his hand out, palm up.

You glanced at it confused. He gestured at you more firmly. You raised your eyebrows, placing your hand atop his in what you hoped was the correct response. He threaded your fingers together and nodded, going back to his book.

You kept your gaze on him expecting an explanation that he didn’t want to offer. You let your joined hands rest on the sofa between you and turned back to your book, feeling the anger seep down your freshly healed hand and into his, where it stewed and dissipated.

He fell asleep like that, hand still clutching yours, book half opened in his lap. You watched him, much less angry. You were filled with that shameful feeling, then, that he was all you could ever want and you were so much less. It was hard to see the prankster in him when he never showed you that side of him; he had his reputation for a reason, but you knew if people could see the softer side of him he’d be known for much more than his pranks.

Neither of you was in pyjamas or ready for bed, you’d skipped dinner, and if you let him sleep that way he’d wake up with a terrible crick in his neck. Just five more minutes, you thought, the feeling of his hand in yours enough to put you at ease. Five more minutes.

-

You had a really great month. The shop stopped being so busy when the kids went back to school. After a week or two, the boys let you back on tills. You didn’t hurt yourself, you smiled, you went to every Weasley breakfast. George stopped checking in on you every hour you work, Fred stopped getting that sad confused look on his face and you didn’t ever let yourself space out.

And you felt amazing! You were glowing, doing chores around your mother's house, helping the twins cook dinner, you and Angelina even had a few girls nights. Everything was perfect and everyone was happy.

Deep down, you’re running on empty. Everything you do has this high strung energy beneath it - you’re throwing up after every meal, but it’s fine. You’d gotten spectacular at silencing charms. You didn’t even cry when you threw up. It must’ve been normal.

Right?

You bought a new dress, muted green and satin. You weren’t sure you’d ever wear it or where you’d wear it too, you’d seen it in a store window and loved it. It was asymmetrical, one thigh covered and one thigh less so. You analyzed the old scars on show in the mirror, pulling the skin taught on your leg. There was always so many more than you remembered doing. How many nights had you sat there, hurting yourself? They weren’t remarkable in anything but amount.

You missed it. You functioned better when you hurt yourself, allowing all the emotion you stored away to come out in a way you could control. When you stopped cutting yourself, you began looking for pain in different ways, an addict snorting paracetamol when they ran out of flake.

And every addict knew the only thing to satiate the craving was the drug of choice.

You could feel your heartbeat in your ears. Was it worth it to break your clean? To relapse, to throw it all away?

You were doing so well, but you knew if something didn’t give sooner or later you would go looking for relief in places you shouldn’t.

Fred and George would never have to know. You could complete the act and wash up and put your jeans back on and they’d never know.

You rummaged through your trunk from school, looking for your box cutter, heart racing. It was exactly where you left it, wrapped in cloth. You pulled it out into your trembling hands and examined the blunted tip. You dug it into the wall beside you and snapped the old blade off, pushing the new blade free.

You sunk to the floor, your dress riding up your legs so that both thighs were on display. A clean, unbloodied expanse of skin. You would do it again, just once. They’d never find out and you could keep making everybody happy.

-

One time was never one time, and every addict knew that, too.

-

You forgot how easy it was to go too far.

The itching was insufferable, especially against your denim jeans. You opted for a knee-length skirt and the darkest tights you owned, hoping they’d make you less uncomfortable. Your shoes were a sad pair of brown converse. It would have to do.

You tugged at the skirt in preparation. Then, you apparated to outside Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, 93 Diagon Alley. The new posters looked amazing up in the window. You grinned at ‘Fred Weasley’s Basic Blaze Box’ indulgently. You’d help think up the name. Well, you’d suggested the name on a whim and Fred had instantly taken to it.

Opening the door, keys jangling, you grinned at the dark shop floor. You always opened up shop early, these days having to come in earlier and earlier before Fred could get there first and do the morning tasks, claiming he’d woken up early that morning totally coincidentally. Nothing to do with you, ghost.

Your self-inflicted injuries started to give you grief after 20 minutes of unpacking and lighting. You sat on the (new, George mandated) stool at the till holding your hand over the healing cuts in an attempt to prevent yourself from scratching and reopening them. That reminded you, you wanted to pick up a book on medical spells. You were a full-grown adult now, you should definitely have a firmer knowledge of healing. Hogwarts had never been praised for its organized curriculum.

You could go upstairs and annoy the twins until opening. However, that would result in one of them or both tag-team bullying you into eating a breakfast you didn’t want. You turned on the quaint little wireless you kept under the counter, one of Molly’s favourites playing, a newer tune, and you hummed along, head in hand and elbow on the counter.

There was a stack of Hogwarts mail-order forms on the side that caught your eye. You smiled bitterly, reminiscing about your time at Hogwarts. Those long months with them, you and the twins (and sometimes Lee Jordan) against the world. Lee Jordan was on the other side of the world now, following his own path. He didn’t need to rely on the success of his friends to make a life for himself as you did.

You picked at the cuticles of your nails. You’d never been one to shy away from a hangnail, ripping them off with little sympathy for yourself. It was disgusting, really, as half your nails were infected or crusted with a little blood in the seams. You frowned, looking through your purse - the Star embossed pouch the twins had given you what felt like so long ago, that you’d D-I-Y’d into a shoulder purse - for the tin of plasters George had given you. The tin had a smiling tiger on the front and had once

contained tiger-striped plasters, but had long been replaced by standard brown ones.

You smiled at it softly, clicking it open. You dabbed your freshly bleeding skin with a little germolene before wrapping it up tight with a plaster. You did this another two times.

Oh, how put together you looked, taking care of yourself. The twins would be relieved. They could never know about your other activities.

You jumped at the sound of the flat door opening, tin tumbling to the floor. You bent down to retrieve it but couldn’t find it. Had it gone under the counter?

“I fear I’ve walked in on something personal.”

Hardy-hair, you thought. You knew nothing was on show, your skirt was long enough to cover everything even in this position.

“I’ve lost Tammy the tiger.”

“Oh,” Fred said. “That’s truly a tragedy. I’ll call in the search party.”

Despite his sarcastic tone, he was quick to kneel beside you and reach his longer arm under the counter, retrieving the tin. You accepted it gratefully, dropping it back into the pouch. It clacked and clinked against the various items you kept inside: an umbrella, your tweezers, bobby pins, a water bottle. And the box cutter.

“Hands?” Fred asked. You presented them obediently. Although you’d mangled them over the years, this month you’d allowed yourself to grow them out and paint them with a semi-translucent pink colour. Most of the skin was healed apart from the bandaged ones.

“What’s with the plasters today?”

“Picking,” you admitted, even though he knew.

He scanned your arms. The bottle green strappy vest you wore left nothing to be hidden. Pleased at the apparent lack of scratching or picking, he nodded. You dropped your hands to your sides, pinching the fabric of your skirt to make sure it hadn’t ridden up.

“Hair’s nice today,” he said, already reaching for the mail order forms to start filling them.

“Thank you,” you said. God, it should be - you’d purchased a dozen ceramic rollers and had never felt frustration so strongly before using them, and it had enough product in it to style a village. You’d brushed out the curls and oiled and hairsprayed until your eyes burned. The aim was to make your hair look like you’d put very little effort in whilst putting in lots and lots of effort. It fell in soft, shiny and most importantly subtle waves.

Should you return the compliment? His hair always looked good.

“You smell good, too,” he said, already penning down the things you’d need to collect from the storeroom. “Special occasion?”

“No,” you said. The occasion was trying to make your best friend return the feelings you felt for him by becoming enticingly put together and feminine. “Felt like a change.”

“It’s nice.”

“Mandora, Lilac and Patchouli.”

“Mandora?”

“Type of orange.”

“Oh, for sure. You smell very citrusy.”

“I can’t tell if you’re teasing me.”

“Me? Teasing you? I’m wounded you’d think that, Y/N, I really am.”

“We’re standing in a joke shop you own. You literally capitalized off of your ability to tease people.”

“And when have I ever teased you?” Fred asked. You must’ve been imagining the flirty undertones of his voice because his body language was saying the same thing as always: preoccupied.

“Only every day since you met me.”

He laughed through his nose, shaking his head at the list he was making.

“That’s how he shows affection,” George said from the doorway. “It’s an affliction.”

“You must both suffer that particular ailment,” you said, tapping your foot on the floor. You opened the till to count the change from yesterday though you’d already taken a note of it the night before.

“I’m wounded,” George gasped.

“It’s how she shows affection,” Fred mocked.

The change was right. You closed the till slowly, still wary of your previous accident. Fred held out the checklist he’d written for you. There was a little drawing of a mushroom at the top with a speech bubble that said, ‘you’re a fun-guy,’.

“You’re a funner-guy,” you told him.

“Oh my god, you maneater. Stop flirting with me in front of my brother.”

“Sorry, George.”

“You should be,” George said lightly from the front of the store. He was fixing up the window displays with a casual wand flick that made you sick with envy. If the shop had been open and filled with patrons you wouldn’t have been able to hear him.

You picked at the thread-work on your skirt. It was a really nice skirt. You smiled to yourself. A year ago, you wouldn’t have allowed yourself to wear something so nice. You were so focused on making yourself small and hiding your personality that you never would’ve had the courage to wear something so nice.

It was strange how having a lack of self-esteem could make you embarrassed to show even the smallest amounts of personality. How Fred and George even found it in themselves to befriend you when your likability was so low, you couldn’t comprehend.

For once, you felt like a person. They’d given you so much: friendship, love, security. They never once made you feel lesser for being unhappy and messy. They’d given you everything you needed to grow as a person, a real person, instead of a ghost.

And you paid them back by cutting yourself and lying to their faces.

You pushed it from your mind. They would never find out, so it didn’t matter what you did. You’d been staring at nothing, the floor by your feet, and Fred had been staring at you.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Fred said. “I wasn’t saying anything.”

You laughed, faking a grin. “How unusual for you.”

“I must be ill,” Fred agreed.

You got to your feet, stretching your hands in front of you and rolling your shoulders.

“I’ll start these,” you said, clutching the checklist to your chest.

“Don’t rush.”

“That’s not a very boss thing to say,” you joked.

“I’m not really your boss.”

“How else would you define it?”

“I’m not sure our relationship would be appropriate if I was your boss.”

“Of course,” you said, arm brushing his jacket as you whispered past him.

You remained an image of calmness until the storeroom door shut behind you. Then, you let your mouth hang open.

‘Our relationship’? Relationship? Our relationship!

Inappropriate boss/employee relationship? You screamed to yourself silently. What had he meant by that? What else could he mean? It would be inappropriate if he were your boss and you his employee and you were in a romantic relationship, right?

You felt crazy. Maybe you’d read into it wrong? But what else could that mean?! Maybe he hadn’t meant to phrase it that way.

You pulled the light switch on. You could hardly read his boyish handwriting with how your hands were shaking.

By the time you’d collected about half the orders, you were thinking straight again. He probably hadn’t meant anything by it. It would be inappropriate for a boss and his employee to have been friends for so long, is what he probably meant. Plus, you’d shared a bed a few times, a sofa bed even more. He must’ve been implying your closeness in general.

Because you and Fred Weasley weren’t in a relationship, and you probably (definitely) never would be.

The next order on the list wanted 5 boxes of nosebleed nasties. Godric, where did kids get this kind of money from? And why did they need to skip so many lessons?

“Y/N? I’m coming in,” Fred said.

He pushed the door open, hands full of paper. “I found some I missed from yesterday.”

You nodded, letting out a steady exhale. The storeroom was longer than it was wide, meant for one person.

“This would go a lot quicker if you used your wand.”

You rolled your eyes. If you used your wand it would be over in minutes, and then what were they paying you for? Basic summoning? If you thought about it, they didn’t need you there at all.

Your thigh itched against the tights and you scratched, forgetting yourself.

You glanced up at Fred with a deer caught in the headlights look. He was close and stepping closer until your hands brushed.

Don’t be a coward, you thought.

“Fred… why would it be inappropriate if you were my boss?”

Fred hadn’t expected that. He seemed to be gathering his courage too.

“Well… well bosses don’t usually sequester their employees in darkened storerooms, do they?”

“Only the ones with mal-intent.”

“And do you think I have malicious intentions towards you, ghost?”

“Of course not,” you said honestly. Fred, hurt you? It was a bad joke.

“Tell me if I need to stop,” he said. To stop? Whatever would he-

Fred ducked down until your lips were an inch apart. His hand hovered over your face. Do it, you begged him. Please, make this real - this thing between us. Tell me it isn’t solely on my end. You could feel his breathing against your mouth. He used his hand to tilt your head upwards, and then you were kissing.

You didn’t know what to do, and that was obvious to him. For a split second, he must have felt like he was kissing a ghost. Then, everything you’d ever wanted to say to him was fighting to come out of you. You selfishly grabbed his face with both hands, pulling him down, down to meet you. He nudged your nose with his and you opened your mouth for him, kissing him so ardently you worried you’d bite him.

Fred kissed you exactly like you expected him to, lovingly, blissfully, like you were the most treasured thing on the planet - he was gentle to your hungry.

He broke first, turning to the side to breathe. You gasped, leaning your head into his chest. You laughed against his shirt, feeling his skin vibrate underneath you.

“What’s funny?” he asked, peering down at you.

“Again,” you said instead, on tip-toes to catch his mouth with yours.

“I don’t usually miss a joke,” he said in between kisses.

“Wasn’t a joke,” you said against his mouth. “Just-” another kiss, “-was funny.”

His spare hand was pulling you closer to him, your heaving chests flush, the fabric of your vest top was so thin you may as well have been naked for the way his touch was making your skin prickle.

“You’re right,” you said quickly, grinning at him, nose tips touching. “This is inappropriate.”

“You insufferable thing,” he said, tilting your head up again, mouth at the juncture of your jaw. “Lovely thing,” he said, doing something completely illegal to the skin there.

Your hand was in his hair. You tried not to tug too hard. A pathetic whimper escaped you, resulting in his mouth curling up against you.

“Make that sound again.”

“Dimwit.”

You made the sound again. From that point on there was much less talking. A haze clouded your brain, your fingers curling into his skin and hair and shirt, you could hardly think from his ministrations. You pulled him back up to kiss you on the lips to escape the torture of his love bites.

A firm knock rattled the door. “Fred, a hand!” George’s voice sounded.

Fred clutched your hands together and pressed them to his chest. “I wish I’d eaten him in the womb.”

You gasped, completely forgetting the make-out session. “Fred Weasley, you take that back.”

“Yeah, super funny!” George said sarcastically, still standing outside the door. “Still need assistance.”

“I’m going to fleece him,” Fred whispered, kissing you once, twice, on the corner of your mouth.

Then you were alone, fingers probing the sore spot he’d created.

Had that really happened?

-

The day wrapped up agonisingly slowly after that, you and Fred stealing looks at each other from all over the shop. It was a surprisingly busy day, neither of you finding a spare moment to seek the other out - the three of you even skipped dinner when an influx of Romanian tourists flooded the store, babbling and bartering as they went.

You managed to shove the last few wizards out the door 20 minutes after closing and locked the door, remembering to breathe, hands still on the lock.

“God, that was a long one. I’m starving,” George said, leaning heavily against the countertop. “Chinese?”

“Actually, Y/N and I are going out.”

That was news to you.

“Nice, I’ll get my coat,” George said.

“Mate - only me and Y/N.”

“Right… right! Oh, that worked out well, 'cos I was actually gonna pop and see Angie anyways. So…” George said, grinning from ear to ear in a way that made you blush.

George disappeared upstairs. Fred had your jacket in his hands.

“Where are we going?” you asked, trying to keep the unadulterated happiness in your voice to a bare minimum.

“I thought we’d walk there,” Fred said evasively, shrugging on his own outerwear.

“Lead the way,” you said.

It was brisk out for the time of year, you thought, pushing your fingers into the pockets of your dark brown jacket.

“Quite the bruise,” Fred remarked.

Your hand automatically moved to cover the hickey he had so generously provided you.

“Bruise isn’t the word I’d use.”

“What word would you use? I’m desperate to know.”

He was teasing, his perfect teeth peeking out from his perfect smile. He was the insufferable one, and the fact that he felt cheeky enough to think otherwise made you want to turn away from him - he was going to ruin you.

“Don’t get red for me now, ghost.”

“Would you shut up?” you hissed.

“Make me?”

You could; you knew exactly what you both wanted, but you wouldn’t allow him the pleasure.

“I like you,” you said seriously. Why did the word ‘like’ feel ten times bigger than ‘love’? He must know by now that you loved him very much. But to like him. It was different.

“I like you too,” he said promptly.

“You could do better.”

“You think I don’t think the same of you?”

“There’s no one better than you, Fred.”

“I’m so scared that you think so little of yourself, you’d allow any young man to come along and be kind to you and kiss you in storerooms. So forgive me, but I have to ask you. Are you sure?” he asked, words creating a fog of warm air. “Are you sure you like me? Because honey, I’ll take you any way you’ll have me. You won’t… lose me, if you reject me.”

You frowned at him. “Freddie, I just told you I like you.”

“I know,” he said, looking so closely at you, you thought he could see the soul inside of you. “I won’t take advantage of you, so I need to know.”

You were silent for a moment, searching for what to say.

“I’ve been so lonely for so long, but I know how love feels,” you told him firmly. “So I want to be brave and have you even if I think I don’t deserve you, and I’m asking you to do the same.”

Fred moved fast as a whippet then, gathering you up in his arms and spinning you around and around until you were dizzy and giggling. “I won’t make a pretty girl like you ask me twice,” he said breathlessly. You were hugging so hard you could feel his sternum touching yours.

“Stop flirting with me.”

“Aren’t I supposed to now?”

“Now?”

“Now I’m trying to get you to go out with me.”

“I’ll go out with you,” you said.

“Well now it’s not fun anymore,” he joked, dotting another quick peck above your eyebrow. His arm remained firmly around your shoulders. “Anyways, I was totally lying. I have no idea where to take you for dinner.”

“I want Chinese.”

“Of course you do.”

-

It was impossible to put into words how pleased you were to be holding hands with Fred as you ate your supper that night. You’d watched George and Angelina do this same thing a hundred times before. Now you could fully understand why they bothered with it.

It was a very nice thing to be tethered to the person you liked and to be sure they liked you back. That they wanted to be holding your hand as much as you wanted to hold theirs.

It even made eating a less miserable experience for you.

“What?” Fred asked.

“Hmm?”

“You keep looking at me.”

“Do I?”

“Yes,” he said through a laugh.

“S’weird,” you mumbled.

“You done?”

You reluctantly let go of his hand so he could wash the plates. You took a huge drink of water and swished it around, hoping he was going to kiss you again and not wanting to taste of sweet and sour sauce. You were supposed to go home that night for tea and buns with your own mother, but you’d managed to give her a quick ring from the phone box outside the Chinese.

So… that was that. You were about to spend the night at your boyfriend's house for the first time. Was it even a special occasion, considering you’d slept over so many times before? This time, you’d get to sleep in his bed - maybe. That’s what girlfriends did, surely? You’d had school boyfriends, no sleepovers, messy hookups that were more because you were expected to want to rather than actually wanting to.

It was different with Fred. And you wanted to sleep in his bed and do all the stupid couple stuff right then and there, but maybe you’d have to wait for some of them. That was fine, you could wait all your life for Fred.

“Alright, Y/L/N. Bed, before you fall asleep at the table.”

You had been nodding off, your thoughts sluggish. You nodded your head where it rested in your palm and pushed to your feet on tired legs with all the grace of a newborn doe.

“Carry me, Fred.”

“It’s 2 feet away,” he said, walking behind you to push you forwards.

You’d been in his room a few times before. It was way less crowded than his room in the burrow, as George had incited the ‘no jokes in the house’ rule. This rule went largely ignored, though there was no stock or product in the flat. There were several sketches on his desk, product ideas and blueprints, schematics and things you didn’t understand.

“Where’s your nightclothes?”

“I didn’t bring them.”

“Oh my god.”

Fred searched through his clothes for something suitable to fit you. He chucked a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a shirt that would be a bit big on you in your general direction.

“You put those on.”

He disappeared to the bathroom with his own change of clothes.

“How conscientious,” you said to yourself, giggling.

You shed your skirt and tights first, assessing the scabbing lines on your thigh in the warm amber glow of the overhead light. They were healing okay, though the deepest one still seemed a little weepy, burning familiarly when you pulled your borrowed bottoms on.

You ignored the shirt, feeling warm enough without the extra layer. You thought about taking your bra off, uncomfortable from a long day, but wondered if that would seem too forward. Blushing, you left it on, burying your face in his pillow. You groaned. It smelled of him. You tucked one leg up towards your chest and hugged yourself, feeling as though this might be heaven.

The door was pushed open gently.

“I forgot how messy you are,” he said, weaving around your discarded clothes.

“Sorry Freddie,” you murmured.

“If you knew how often I’d pictured your clothes on my bedroom floor, you wouldn’t be apologising.”

He pulled the duvet from underneath you like you were weightless. The single bed realistically wasn’t big enough for both of you, but he squeezed in anyways.

“You need a bigger bed,” you said, resting your head on his shoulder.

He tucked the sheet over your shoulders. “We’ve fit on a twin sized bed before.”

“You remember that?”

“Course I do.”

You kissed his shoulder, eyes heavy. “I was a nightmare back then.”

“Prettiest nightmare I’ve ever had,” he said, lips gracing the top of your head.

<3333

a/n i think there will be another part for the nsfw i was too shy to include here hahaha

taglist for a special friend: @wanniiieeee

[the-suicidal-lizard]

Say No To This | Into The Spider-Verse! Spider-Man Noir X Spider-Woman! Reader|

Summary: (Y/N) is married and so it Peter Benjamin Parker, both from different dimensions. But, Peter can’t say no.

Warning: Smut, nudity, adultery, mentions of abuse, swearing, alcohol, and blackmail.

Spider-Man: Into The Spider-Verse.

Based on: “Say No To This” by Lin-Mauel Miranda, sang by Jasmine Cephas.

Third Person POV.

She/Her pronouns for reader.

(Y/n) (l/N) looked to Melvin-John Watson, or as most people knew him MJ, she was setting the table for them and she was tense as she did.

(Y/n) married him about three years ago, and it had turned loveless and well, let’s just say whenever (y/n) went out to do Spider-Woman jobs, she stayed out longer in fear of what MJ would do to her.

She went missing for a couple of days. There's nothing like summer in the city, and someone under stress meets someone looking pretty - that’s when she met Spider-Noir, also known as Peter Benjamin Parker and of course the other Spider-Men, Woman, and Ham... or SP//DR.

Needless to say when she first met Peter Benjamin Parker she was smitten, but he was married to Mary-Jane in his dimension. So, she let it go.

But, things started getting worse in her relationship with her MJ, she was hurt emotionally and physically, the guy was out drinking every night, drunk and sleeping around.

It was one of those nights. As said, (y/n) had set out the meal and immediately complaints began.

The steak was overcooked, the wine was weak, the whipped garlic potatoes weren’t whipped enough. He got so angry that he stabbed the table with the steak knife and threw the plate at (y/n)‘s head, who dodged before it hit her. It flew at the wall and smash, food scattering the floor. Next was the red wine glass, staining the wall and carpet, then he stormed out with his keys and his phone, slamming the door.

(Y/n) sighed and looked down at her wrist, she constantly wore the dimension hopper Gwen and Peni made in case she ever needed to bolt and leave, though of course they thought the only use to was to meet up with each other. She never did leave, this might be the first time she considered it.

God, how pathetic. She’s Spider-Woman and she can’t even deal with her arsehole of a husband.

It was quiet late she knew that, and thought of which dimension wouldn’t mind her there. Peter B. was probably on a date with his MJ, so she wouldn’t want to risk him seeing her. Miles, Gwen and Peni are kids, she didn’t fancy stressing them. Porker was too silly and daft. Peter Benjamin Parker? He was the last option. His MJ was out of town for a month, and he said he was mainly on a break for now. Would he mind?

I mean; there's trouble in the air, you can smell it... And Peter Benjamin Parker’s by himself.

She had no time to think, she instead threw on her Spider-Woman uniform, and opened the portal to the grey scale dimension and hopped in. She greatly stuck out with her colour, so she’d have to hide but she needed to see someone.

(Y/n) rushed to the apartment buildings were Peter stayed, they had all visited a few times and so, she luckily remembered where she was going.

She swung up onto a fire escape and landed quiet, she gently tapped on the window with her gloved index finger. Maybe he wasn’t in? What then?

Peter hadn't slept in a week, he was weak, he was awake, hunched over his desk, writing away furiously on a case. You've never seen a bastard hero more in need of a break, longing for vengeance, missing his wife, grabbed the nearest gun. He sneaked out of his small, rundown office and looked to the window. He calmed down instantly seeing the brightly, (f/c) Spider-Woman at his window, smiling shyly and waving.

Peter smiled himself and set his gun down, and opened the window for her. Happy that Miss (y/f/n) walked into his life.

“(Y/f/n)? What are you doing here?”

Ah yes, she never told anyone of her marriage to MJ Watson. Guess tonight she was finally going to come clean. She said;

“I know you are a man of honour, I’m so sorry to bother you at home. But I don’t know where to go, and I came here all alone…” Sighed (y/n), shoulders slouched.

Peter frowned and held a hand out, he wouldn’t and couldn’t lie, (y/n) was a very pretty dame, but he’s married. She took his hand as she was helped in.

“Would you like anything to eat? Drink? How about a hooch?” He asked, sitting her down on his run down sofa.

“Whiskey sounds perfect.” She replied, throwing her head back, her (h/l), (h/c) hair brushing against the heading.

Peter poured two glasses, he might as well, and set them down on the table, no coasters needed.

“What’s up, Doll?” He asked, looking into her bright, (e/c) eyes. He may not know exactly what colour her blinkers were, but he couldn’t lie he got lost in them. They always shined brightly, sun or moon, like little stars.

(Y/n) took a gulp of her drink and sighed, “I guess it’s time I confess... I’m married.”

“You’re married?” He asked heartbroken, why though? He’s married to MJ, he’s happy. Right?

“Was, sorta...” She said, “my husband’s doin’ me wrong. Beatin’ me, cheatin’ me, mistreatin’ me... Suddenly he’s up and gone, I don’t have the means to go on.” Not exactly a lie, MJ was still very much in her life, but it was loveless and based on abuse. He left constantly, so... technically the truth. She gulped the last of her drink.

Peter frowned, when he saw that twit he’s gonna give him lead poisoning! He helped her up and offered her a loan, and gave her thirty dollars he had socked away.

“I know it’s not much but —“

“No, Pete I couldn’t —“

He covered her mouth, “I insist. I’ll take you home, okay?”

“You’re too kind, Pete.” Pete, what a lovely nickname.

She lived one dimension away, so offered to walked her home, he opened the portal to her dimension and the two swung to her place, a small flat in a remote location. The lights were off and the car wasn’t there. MJ was still out, thank god.

“This ones mine, Pete.” (Y/n) whispered, as they landed on her pathway.

Peter nodded, a dark grey shade tinting his cheeks ever so slightly as he looked at her gorgeous (b/t) stems. The legs of her suit made her entire body— no. He’s married.

“Well I should head back home.” Peter mumbled, but (Y/n), in a burst of confidence, pulled Peter inside. Maybe it’s that whiskey that gave her confidence?

(Y/n) went red, she led him to her bed, she let her legs spread and said, “stay?”

“Hey.” Peter’s face had turned a darker grey.

“Hey.” She said back teasingly.

Peter stared as she began to unzip her costume slowly.

‘Lord, show me how to say no to this.’ He prayed silently, ‘I don’t know how to say no to this.’

(Y/n)’s spider suit was off and her hair was loose and slightly messy, only her underwear was on.

‘But my God, she looks so helpless. And her body’s saying, “hell, yes”...’ Peter thought, slowly moving over to (y/n). No, he should say no to this...

He should go, he backed up but (y/n) was in front of him. How can he say no to this? ‘In my mind I’m trying to go, then her mouth is one mine and I don’t say —‘

All thoughts cut off, her lips were on his and her found himself kissing back.

No! No! Say no to this!

Her backed up against the bed, her on her back as he hovered over her. She slowly pulled off his clothes and kissed his neck, making him groan.

No!

Both faces now red, well Peters in a grey scale and completely naked, he left hickeys down her neck, sucking harder on the more tender spots, eliciting louder moans. She scratched his back, leaving dark, grey nail marks down his spine and earned her low moans and gasping.

No!

She reached down and squeezed his ass, making him moan, and bite her ear, warning a gasp.

Say no to this!

“Oh god, Peter! Please just —“ He kissed again and spat on his hand, he slowly fingered and rubbed her vagina, making sure she was stretched. He then slowly pushed into her, making her gasp and arch her back.

He moaned and hid his face into the crook of her neck. Mary-Jane long gone from his thoughts.

No! No! Say no to this!

She kissed his neck, leaving grey toned hickeys on his neck as he slowly began to thrust. Moans and gasps filled the roam.

“Oh (y/n)!” He moaned out.

She dug her nails into his hips, once he hit her g-spot, “h-harder! Oh god, harder Peter!”

Peter suddenly rammed into her, making her cry out in pleasure, as he kissed her again.

No! No! Say not to this!

His grey tongue explored her pink mouth, and she ran her hands through his hair, as he gripped her thighs. He continued to slam into her, making her shaky and weak, moaning into the kiss.

No! No! Say not to this!

They climaxed at the same time with a loud moan of each other’s names, before Peter promptly fell next to her.

That was the best pitching woo he had ever had, and wow...

(Y/n) cuddled up to him in his side and gently rested her hand on his chest, drawing patterns into his pecks, while he gently caressed her hips.

That’s when he froze, he was still wearing his wedding ring and she was wearing hers. MJ left her, he and his MJ were still together and — oh god!

He isn’t dizzy for this dame, he’s married and very much in love with MJ! At least that’s what he tells himself.

He also tells himself that this is the first and last time he does this, he felt awful cheating on MJ but, then again... He’s not felt like this in years.

The two fell asleep, curled up in bed together and Peter left early the next morning.

..........

(Y/n) realised she messed up and felt sick to her stomach knowing she ruined whatever friendship she had with Peter and his relationship with MJ. It’s all her fault.

Her MJ still wasn’t back, which allowed for her to show ever slowly and try to wash away all the bad memories of last night.

She should just leave Melvin-John, but she couldn’t. He knew who she was and he could out her to everyone, he could ruin her. Not to mention everything was under his name, and she would have nowhere else to go.

MJ didn’t show up all day, and when it was 1:00 am, she decided to call him, make sure he was alive.

Her phone rang a few times until he eventually picked up.

“Whaaat the fuck do yoou want?” MJ slurred, stumbling over something, of course (y/n) only heard.

“I-i was just checking you was okay and s-safe... I-I’m sorry.” She apologised, biting her thumb nail, “h-how long will you be out f-for...?”

MJ coughed suddenly, “howeverrrr long I wan’! Couple o’ weeks!” He squealed at the end and burped, then hung up abruptly.

Weeks? She would be alone for weeks? No MJ, and no Parker’s, or anyone. She certainly couldn’t show her face after what she and Peter did.

And Peter felt the same. He locked himself in his office, hunched over, working tiredly over a case that wasn’t his case to solve.

His thoughts were filled with (y/n), and how gorgeous her hair is and her smile, her gorgeous, soft, (l/c) lips. Her soft, smooth, (s/c) and — he shook his head.

For three days he hadn’t left and for the first time in thee days he thought of MJ, and how she’ll feel once she found out.

Peter set his pen down and sighed, running a hand through his hair and got dressed in his Spider-Man suit and went out.

He opened the colourful portal to (y/n)‘s world and went in. He immediately went to her house.

(Y/n) was opening a window, dressed as Spider-Woman and her shoulders slouched. She had been alone for days.

Peter rushed over and appeared in front of her, “(n/n).”

“Peter!” She squealed in shock but was silenced when he pulled up their masks and kissed her.

(Y/n) didn’t hesitate and kissed back, arms wrapping around his neck, and his arms around her waist.

Peter pinned her to the wall, attacking her neck with kisses and bites, making her gasp and moan.

She took off his hat and jacket, pushing him down on the sofa. She took off her suit slowly, while he hurriedly took off his.

(Y/n) attacked his neck and chest with love bites, making him moan, his fingers finding her hips as she slowly lowered onto him and kissed him roughly.

He moaned into the kiss, as he thrust-ed up, making her moan, riding on him, god he could get used to this.

Peter flipped them and kissed down the valley between her breasts, thrusting every so often and leaving love bites in his trail.

He kissed her breasts and gently suckled on her nipple, making her gasp and moan, throwing her head back.

Peter slammed into her, making her moan loudly, “oh harder!”

Peter was happy to oblige and slammed into her again, harder and moan into her neck, as she moan louder, digging her nails into his shoulders.

“You’re so perfect, (y/n).” Peter groaned out, kissing her jawline.

“A-and you’re incredibly handsome!” (Y/n) moaned.

(Y/n)‘s walls tightened and they climaxed together.

Peter wished he could say that was the last time, but he said that last time. It became a pastime.

Every day the two would meet in either dimension, have some fun together in the way that you’re probably thinking, with a few rooftop dates in between.

Whenever the Spider-Gang would meet up, there was secret touchingly between them, a hand on her lower back, a hand on his upper arm.

..........

It was a month into this endeavour, and after one particularly long and fun night in bed together, Peter rushed home saying he was busy on a case. The two kissed each other goodbye as he ran out.

(Y/n) hugged her pillow close and smiled like an idiot, she was helplessly in love with him. Even if he wasn’t with her.

She fell asleep after that and didn’t wake up until the next day, when she was awoken with a smashed liquor bottle over the bed, in which she covered her head quickly.

She sat up and froze, her husband was there holding a black and grey scale hat, that was a bit static-y from Peter Benjamin Parker’s dimension.

“MJ —“

“Who the fuck are you sleeping with?!” He yelled, yanking her up by her wrists, “it’s one of the spider fucks, isn’t it?!”

“No, no, I just —“

Melvin threw her down, “which one?!” He grabbed the lamp and held it above his head and (y/n) curled into a ball.

In a state of panic she yelled, “Spider-Noir!”

MJ froze and smashed the lamp next her head, then stormed out angrily.

(Y/n) took a shaky breath, unsure of what to do. Maybe if she had said no to her desires earlier on, everything would be fine.

Later that night, (y/n) went to meet with all the spiders. She put on her suit and grabbed Peter’s hat, just as MJ walked up to her.

She tensed as he gave her kiss, gently brushing her wrist that was holding the hat, “I’ll see you soon.”

(Y/n) opened the portal and stepped through, appearing in Aunt May’s house in Miles’ dimension. She set down the hat and jumped next to Gwen and Peter B, “hey guys.”

Peter-Noir’s face lit up behind his mask, especially as through the night, the two ended up sitting next to each other and secretly held hands.

The night came to an end, (y/n) leaving a few minutes before everyone else.

Peter saw his hat and picked it up, he must’ve left it at (y/n)‘s and she gave it back. He smiled at the thought of her. God, he was so dizzy with a dame.

He looked down and noticed it a letter, he took it out and noticed it wasn’t (y/n)‘s writing, this looked like it was done by someone who wasn’t sure on proper English or writing skills.

Peter went home; it had his name on it, and opened the letter there in confusion. He had a received a letter? Even better, it said;

Dear Sir,

I hope this letter finds you in good health, and in a prosperous enough position to put wealth in the pockets of people like me: down on their luck. You see, that was my wife who you decided to

“Fuuuu—“ Peter’s eye’s widened.

Uh-oh! You made the wrong sucker a cuckold. So time to pay the piper for the pants you unbuckled. And hey, you can keep seein’ my whore wife, if the price is right: if not I’m telling your wife.

Melvin-John Watson.

Peter hid the letter - from a Mr. Melvin-John Watson, even better - and he raced out of his dimension.

..........

“You did what?!” Cried (y/n) looking at MJ, half dressed in her suit.

“I let Peter know I know everything. Have fun with him.” Scoffed MJ, leaving the house.

Peter rushed in a moment later, missing MJ, and saw (y/n), tears in her eyes and her hair messed.

He glared and grabbed her shoulders, he screamed, “how could you?!” in her face.

“No, Pete!” She yelled.

Half dressed, apologetic. A mess, she looked pathetic, she fell to her knees and she cried out, “please don’t go, Pete!” She looked terrified.

“So was your whole story a setup?” Snarled Peter, upset and angry, as he genuinely fell in love with her.

“I don’t know about any letter!” (Y/n) cried out, Peter hadn’t even mentioned a letter, making him angry.

“Stop crying! Goddamn it, get up!” Peter yelled, looking at (y/n).

“I didn’t know any better!” She cried out in defence.

“I am ruined...” Peter choked out.

“Please don’t leave me with him!” Begged (y/n), crying giving Peter an answer immediately. The story wasn’t a set up and she went about her desires the wrong way.

“I am helpless.” They said together, looking to each other.

But his thoughts flashed to his wife, “how could I do this?!”

“Just give him what he wants and you can have me!” (Y/n) yelled taking off her suit completely.

“I don’t want you.” Lied Peter.

“Whatever you want!” She cried, moving over to him.

“I don’t want you!” He lied, turning to her slowly.

“If you pay, you can stay!”

‘Lord, show me how to say no to this.’ Peter thought as she wrapped her arms around him, he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“The situation’s helpless... And your body’s screaming, “Hell, yes”.” He mumbled into her her neck. ‘No, show me how to say no to this,’ he thought. “How can I say no to this?”

Once she sat him down on his bed, there was nowhere he could go, and her bodies on his, he didn’t say no.

Peter undressed quickly and slipped into her instantly making the two moan.

No!

“Yes!” Peter moaned out, while (y/n) kissed his neck with a quiet, “yes” of her own.

No!

Peter leaned down setting her on her back and thrust-ed in again, “yes!” He moaned, as she dragged her nails down her back and she moaned out a quiet “yes.”

No!

He slammed against her g-spot, making her cry out, “yes!” And he moaned out, “yes” when she tightened around him.

One last thrust had them reaching their climax with a loud, “yes!” From both and they lay next to each other.

The duvet covered his waist and her chest, she faced the wall and Peter wrapped arm arm around her waist.

(Y/n) was the first to fall asleep one thought on her mind, ‘I don’t say no to this.’

Peter stayed awake and stared at her face and lay down again, pulling her closer. He really was in love with her as he thought,  ‘I don’t say no to this.’

There was nowhere else to go...

MJ walked into the room and leaned against the door noticing (y/n) and Peter in bed together, naked.

“So?” MJ asked, making Peter look over to him, then back at (y/n).

They were both in helpless situations, MJ would out her to the world as Spider-Woman, and him to his wife that he was cheating. MJ would go back to hurting her and both (y/n) and Peter would be helpless for each other.

His eyes softened looking at (y/n) and reached into his pocket bringing out a stack of money, “nobody needs to know.”

He doesn’t say no to her.

[landinoandco]

Could I ask for a Max Verstappen request?

Where you get all excited to tell him you’re pregnant and it doesn’t go well. Could you make it super angsty

Of course you can :) here you go, I hope you enjoy! 

Max Verstappen x reader 

Warnings: angst but with fluff at the end

Word count: 2.2 k 

Requests are open...

Baby, the future is ours

At last the summer break had rolled around again, to the relief of the Formula one drivers and crew, they had 3 long weeks ahead of them to fill with whatever they deemed stress-free or relaxing. The subject of activity depending on person to person - most sane folk tended to stick to a holiday to Greece or if you were an adrenaline junkie like Daniel Ricciardo jumping out of planes or BMX biking. You had lost count of the times Max - your boyfriend - had rushed in to tell you about all of the exciting things his best friend had gotten up to as of late. 

You and Max had decided to take a break and travel to a cosy, quiet part of Italy - to escape the press, the stress and most importantly the eagle eye of social media. It would just be you and him for a few weeks before reality brought you back to Milton Keynes in the shape of Christian Horner and his motley crew. 

You and Max had met in 2018 at a gala event Redbull had hosted, Pierre Gasly - being a close friend of yours - had introduced you two and to say the pair of you hit it off instantly was an understatement, whether it was a mixture of the Dutch meets British humour you had no clue but you weren’t one to complain. A few months later and Max had asked you to travel around the world with him - you did so willingly and life had been nearing perfect ever since. Of course you had your ups and downs, where the universe seemed to really test not only your love for one and other but your patience. A few arguments had shown you that both being hot-headed never ended well. 

You were sat out on the balcony, a book in hand and looking out into the Italien countryside. Max had left for a run and to explore the local village, leaving you, your thoughts and your growing baby. You were pregnant - you had taken the test just before flying out, this meant that Max wasn’t aware. You hadn’t told him yet and you had no clue how you were going to. As it turns out telling your partner you were pregnant was easier said than done - ironically. 

You and Max hadn’t had the baby talk yet - you had but only along the lines of: “one day, when we’re older and married and driving isn’t the main priority anymore.” Those were Max’s words. He wanted to be there for his child, to watch him or her grow, to see every milestone but most importantly to be a good and nurturing father. 

There was part of you that was slightly worried because you just didn’t know how Max would take it - you couldn’t keep it in any longer though. You had to tell him. There was another part of you that was excited - from a very young age you knew you wanted to have a family of your own with the person you loved the most. Call it childish naivety. At this point in time, you were ready to become a mother - well as ready as anyone ever could be. 

Placing your book onto the table, you made your way into the kitchen, grabbed a glass and filled it. Sighing loudly as you leant onto the countertop. 

“That was a loud sigh.” A voice called out from behind you. You recognised it instantly. Whipping your head around, you saw Max standing there, wiping the sweat from his forehead. 

Chuckling, you hit back, “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

Rolling his eyes, he made his way over to you and wrapped his arms around your middle, placing a sweet, chaste kiss onto the side of your head. Leaning into his warm embrace, you let out another long but content sigh. 

“Seriously, what is it with you and sighing today.” Max uttered, his lips still against the side of your head. 

You went to move forward, out of his welcoming embrace. You knew what you had to do. 

“There’s something I need to tell you.” Instantly the atmosphere changed, you could feel Max stiffen behind you. Maybe the tone you chose to make that comment in was too serious but it was now or never. 

“Haha, which of your friends is pregnant this time.” He quipped jokingly, trying to break the tension. 

Instantly you knew the way the conversation was going to end, a pang of hurt felt in your stomach. You squeezed your eyes shut, catching your lip with your teeth. He stood there with an air of innocence and unknown, concern dancing in his eyes - he went to reach his arm out to you, to offer that encouragement. 

You braved the words that came out of your lips, “Me.” You almost whispered. Time seemed to slow. Max dropped his arm and instantly took a step back. 

“Pardon.” Was the only thing he could force out of his mouth, his throat seemed to close up and his hands went clammy. He definitely heard you the first time but he wanted to make sure it wasn’t a night terror. A bad dream he had failed to wake from. 

“I am, Max,” You said again, your voice wavering. 

“Oh.” He stated, his face drained of colour, his mouth set in a straight line. 

“Is that all you have to say.” You swallowed thickly, your eyes swam with tears. You had a hunch this was how it was going to end but it didn’t stop is from hurting the way it did. You had hoped he would have proved you wrong, to have wrapped his arms around you and to have spun you around. To have laughed. To have cried. To have shown a little more excitement to the fact you were now carrying his child. His first child. 

You moved past him and sat down on one of the wooden chairs, rubbing your hands over your face. He was still stood there. His eyes fixated on the view out of the window. No emotion read in his eyes. It was almost like you had hit the ‘off’ button. He tapped his foot and made a clicking noise with his mouth before turning around to face you - meeting your gaze. 

“How long have you known.” His voice was hoarse.

“A couple of days before we flew out.” You answered him, moving your face back to rest in your hands. 

There was a pause. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner.”

You took a breath, looking him dead in the eye. “Because I knew this was how you were going to react.” You didn’t trust your voice at all, you also didn’t know whether you wanted to scream at him or cry in the corner. 

“Right.” Was all he said. Still stood there like some awkward teenager after a rather large telling off from their mother. 

“Is that all you have to say to me?” You asked him, nostrils flaring. You were allowed to be angry, right? 

“What do you expect me to say.” He rounded on you, his voice raising more than was necessary. Tears had spilled down your cheeks, you didn’t have the energy to fight back. As soon as he realised the effect this was having on you, he went to move forward again, his eyes softening instantly. “I’m sorry - I - I shouldn’t have raised my-”

“Get out, Max.” You stated lowly. By this point, you had stood up, shuddering away from his desperate grasp. He knew he had made a mistake. You knew he regretted it, the moment the words had left his mouth. 

“Get out?” He repeated quietly, his voice cracking, you could see tears glazing his vision. 

“Just - please, go on a walk - come back once you have more to say to me.” You spat.

“But - But I already have more to say-” You cut his rambling off once again. 

“Please. Max.” You insisted, your voice betraying you again. “Go.” You whispered. 

Max stormed out of the door, ensuring to slam it so hard the chandelier on the ceiling swung precariously. You sank back into your chair and let out a loud sob, unable to hold it in any longer. 

Max was mad. Not at you, that would be unfair. He was mad at himself. At the world. At everything actually because at this point why the hell not. You were pregnant - don’t get him wrong, he was over the moon. He was going to be a dad. 

It was too soon. 

He still had his full F1 career ahead of him. A promising and long F1 career as a matter of fact. He wanted a baby to be his main priority and he wanted to share those one in a lifetime moments with you. He knew there was no point in being mad, it wasn’t like they were in a position where they couldn’t have a child. They had plenty of things to offer, a nurturing home with parents who were head over heels in love with each other and a large family - blood and not - who would be willing to support and love the child as if it was their own. Max really was in love with you. He knew it would be you to mother his children in the end, he just didn’t think it would be now. 

He reached for his phone, went into his contacts and pressed on the number that read the name: “D.R new phone.” Whilst it wasn’t adventurous like many thought it would be, it saved the confusion from calling a number that no longer existed. 

Daniel picked up on the second ring. “Hey dude, how’s it going?” 

“Not good at all, Dan, not good at all.” Max admitted, his voice wavering once again. He explained the events that had happened a mere 5 minutes ago, the way he reacted and the way he left you. Hurt and alone.

“I’m not going to lie to you, mate, you’ve fucked up big time.” Dan spoke after what felt like a loud silence. After all, Daniel knew you just as well as he knew Max. 

“I know. I know I have, do you think I’ve been selfish?” He asked, his tone full of raw emotion. 

“Yes.” Dan stated simply, “I think you have been, especially since she even told you this is how she thought you would react. How much stress do you think she had been putting on herself? Come one, I’ve taught you to be better than this.” Daniel paused, Max could almost hear him place his thumb and ring finger onto the bridge of his nose. “You know, just as well as I know, she knows it isn’t the best time. Her becoming pregnant is very much a two person job, I think it’s time that you go back to her and have a conversation like the adult I know you are.” 

In that moment, Max was so grateful to have someone like Dan just a call away. “Thank you, Dan. Really. I don’t know what I would do without you.” 

“Alright Mr Father-to-be, don’t be going all soppy on me now.” Daniel joked, returning back to his normal teasing. That was the best thing about Daniel, he was quite useful when you needed him to be. 

“You can count yourself on being the godfather after that.” Max added, a large beaming smile plastered onto his face. 

He heard Dan let out a loud laugh, “Go on, leave me be. Good luck, mate, let me know how it goes and when the time is right tell her I say congrats.” 

“Of course, mate. Thank you, again.” Max muttered, looking back in the direction of the villa. After he hung up, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and ambled slowly - working out exactly what he was going to say to you. 

Once he had opened the door, he called out to you. “Babe?” He heard a sniffle in response. You were still slumped on the chair in the kitchen, shooting daggers at the cupboard opposite. 

Max sat opposite you, reaching out for your hand. Grudgingly you let him take it, you blinked and he took a deep breath before a large, beaming smile crept onto his face.

“We’re going to be parents.” He rubbed the back of your hand, speaking tentatively. You nodded, your lower lip trembled. Max stood up, still keeping a hold of your hand as he gave it a slight tug, indicating that you should stand up. You made your way into his embrace, his arms wrapping securely around you, tucking your face into the crook of your neck as he rocked gently side to side, burying his face into your hair. He then moved his hands to cradle your face, wiping the stray tears away before peppering your face with feather light kisses. 

“We’re going to be parents.” He repeated, a little louder and to this you let out another sob, laughing as he picked you up and spun you around. 

“I’m sorry. I was being selfish.” He said, as he wrapped you back up into his arms. You smiled into his chest. In that moment, you couldn’t be happier. It was like all of your childhood dreams had come true. In that kitchen stood your new family, mismatched and sometimes a little bit broken but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[storiesofsvu]

A Redemption Earned Ch 10

Heather Dunbar x reader Warnings: language, flirting, it's finally smut time besties, a teeny bit of dom/sub dynamics, dirty talk. A/N: I just wanted to pop in here and mention: as with most media we consume, there's always shit going on that we as readers/viewers don't see, right? if that makes sense? Just as these next couple of chapters progress, remember that just because the chapter doesn't mention say, Heather, Rob & Becca hanging out, or Heather & yn texting/talking/exploring more sexy dynamics, doesn't mean it's not happening. Like, the story would be tediously long and boring if I included every single interaction they had, so... remember that....(also there's lots of parallels coming up in this ch, so don't forget that i do a lot of that and lots of teeny foreshadowing)

It was finally the end of June, the air in Washington full of warmth and sunshine, one that left you constantly happy, a smile always on your face. Classes had been wrapped for a couple of days, only cleaning out the classroom, a couple of staff meetings and celebrations left to wrap everything up until late august. Today was particularly warm, the breeze coming through your car windows on your drive home warming your cheeks, you were excited for the next couple of months of freedom and not having to get up at the crack of dawn. It was only once you’d gotten home, tossing open a couple of windows that you got to think about the evening and you realized you didn’t want to just laze around the house anymore.

*

Heather glanced over to her phone as it started to buzz against her dresser, she’d just gotten dressed post shower after a quick workout, curious as to if she was getting a late work call or something personal. She picked it up, swiftly answering as she moved through the house.

“Hey.” Your cheery voice echoed through the receiver and she smiled.

“Hey yourself.”

“Any chance you’re free right now? Or… tonight?”

“What do you have in mind?” She laughed.

“It’s just so nice out, school’s done, I feel like going out. Nothing crazy, I stopped at the drive thru on the way home, but… do you wanna grab a drink or something?”

“I’d love to.” She smiled, her chest warming at the thought, “do you have a place in mind?”

“The Graham has an incredible rooftop patio and I’m just feeling that vibe right now.”

“A little celebratory evening is overdue I’m feeling.” She teased and you laughed.

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

“I can be there by seven?”

“Amazing. I can’t wait.”

*

It took Heather a bit to get ready to get to the bar, the downside of not driving and calling the car service was that she sometimes had to wait. Though that left her with the very large advantage of getting to the bar after you, normally she would hate it, but today, after not seeing you for a nearly a month, she was more than okay.

You were sitting at a table against the railing of the rooftop patio, your gaze directed on the horizon with a small grin on your cheeks. Your hair was loose around your shoulders, the summer breeze lifting it off your face, clad in an adorable little sundress, this one a touch fancier than the last she’d seen you in. It was also more form fitting, clinging to you in all the right places, your chest pushed up the perfect amount, heels placed delicately on your feet, your skin sun kissed from the last couple of weeks. You were absolutely glowing and Heather wasn’t sure if she would make it through drinks.

“Well you certainly look like a dream.” She greeted with a small smile and your face shot up to her, a smile breaking out on it as your cheeks heated.

“Thank you.” You quickly stood to greet her, your entire body relaxing the moment your lips hit hers, “you look rather ravishing yourself.”

“Oh you spoil me.” She laughed, “tossed together last minute.”

“Thanks for coming.” You settled back into your chair, “it just felt like a night to go out and I didn’t want to be alone.”

“Are you kidding me? It’s gorgeous up here, and to have a date as gorgeous as yourself? How on earth could I say no?”

“And you say I spoil you?” You smirked, raising a brow as you brought your drink to your lips, taking a small sip. In return she simply chuckled, the conversation taking a small pause as a waiter swung around to grab her drink order. Once the cocktail was in front of her and she’d taken a sip, she let out a little sigh, glancing over at the slowly turning pink sky before turning to you.

“Any big plans for the summer?”

“Got some reno’s around the house I wanted to get started. I’ve done a little bit of work in the yard already.”

“Bored with things already?” She teased and you laughed.

“No, a few things in the house are pretty dated. The Aunt I inherited from didn’t have kids, and didn’t really care about the upkeep, she knew she was on the way out, so why bother putting money into it, you know?”

“Well if you need any contractors for anything, let me know, I’ve got a few numbers.”

“You really just have a person for everything, don’t you?” You smirked at her over the rim of your glass and she blushed, rolling her eyes at your taunt.

“I think that kind of just happens when you have a lot of money and not enough time to do things yourself.”

“Makes sense.” You hummed, “I take it you haven’t had much time on your hands since moving back, had trouble deciding on decorating?”

“Hmm?” She raised a brow and you let out a small laugh.

“Your place is furnished, but barely decorated…”

“Oh.” Heather laughed, “I didn’t have much when it came to that kind of stuff to take with me to Baltimore, much less come back with me.”

“Anything left at the old house? Or did your ex take it all retribution style?” You were thankful when she laughed at that, glancing up at you with a grin.

“No, I don’t think he took much aside from personal belongings honestly. Uh, Jordan on the other hand… more than a little reckless… may have thrown a huge party while I was out of town that included trashing the house.”

“And this is exactly why I decided to never have kids.”

“Yet you choose to work with them?” She raised a brow, curious to what your explanation would be and you chuckled.

“I only deal with them from nine ‘til three, then they’re someone else’s problem. Plus I was never really ready to settle… I wanted to be able to explore the world and move around freely, can’t exactly do that with a baby on your hip.”

“Tell me about it.”

“You ever regret it?” The question was passed your lips and spoken into the air before you’d really realized the weight of it, although, you really didn’t know the weight of it to someone like Heather, who let out a little sigh, sucking back more of her drink.

“If you had asked me six years ago the answer would have been a very hard yes.” She admitted, her eyes darting up to yours for a moment, “but I really value what memories I do have with them, and the relationship I’m rebuilding with Becca.”

“Sorry.” You suddenly interjected, “I really didn’t mean to bring the mood down like that.”

“No, it’s fine.” She laughed, waving it, off, “besides… if life hadn’t happened the way it did, it wouldn’t have brought me back to Washington, and we wouldn’t be here right now.” Grinning, she leant towards you, stealing a kiss, your lips hovering over hers as you spoke.

“Well now you’re just being cheesy.” Your lips met hers again, her hand coming to cup your cheek and you let out a little hum at the gesture, squeezing at her thigh.

“I guess you just bring out that side of me.” She murmured and you giggled.

“I hope that’s not the only side I bring out.” Your words were nearly husked into her ear as you pressed a kiss to her cheek and she had to resist clenching her legs together, a tingle shooting through her body.

Unfortunately, the moment was interrupted by the waiter before she could get a reply out. Though, to be honest, it was probably best that conversation didn’t continue in a public place or she’d be lucky if you made it to the bathroom before her hands were on you. Another round of drinks were ordered, and Heather was amazed when you managed to convince her into a round of shots, though your taste was impeccable so she wasn’t complaining. As the evening wore on, you seemed to be continually shifting closer together on the curved booth, hands tangled together, fingers trailing over exposed skin, eyes drifting lower as you talked, the conversation becoming more hushed. There were more stolen kisses, lips upturned in smirks, moments where one of you would catch the other off guard by asking a question when all they were doing was staring at your lips fantasizing about how good they would feel elsewhere on their body.

Heather returned from a bathroom break to see you signing the check and raised a brow,

“You ducking out on me?” She teased and you laughed.

“Not at all.” You rose from the seat, linking your hand in hers, pressing a kiss to her lips, “it’s gonna storm tonight and I think it’s about to hit.” She glanced over your shoulder at the sky, the sun had fully set by now, but you were right, the breeze had picked up, cooler than before and you could smell it in the air. “My place is just around the corner, and I know for a fact there is a pint of double chocolate fudge ice cream dying to be devoured in the freezer.”

“Are you sure that’s the only thing dying to be devoured?” Heather murmured and your eyes shot up to hers, wide with surprise before you let out a small chuckle.

“I’ll take that as a yes. C’mon.”

Heather followed your lead, keeping her arm wrapped in yours as you made your way through the city streets. True to your thought, the storm was about to hit, but your timing had been just a little bit off, letting out a little shriek as the skies opened up and rain drops began to patter down onto the sidewalk. You paused under an awning to try and make a game plan, but realized you’d be sitting ducks if you waited for a car or tried to hail a cab, besides, it wasn’t raining that hard anyways. Instead, you assured Heather that your place was only a matter of blocks away, and your best plan was probably to make a run for it. Well, the best the two of you could wearing heels.

Unluckily, the rain decided it was the perfect time to pick up right as you hit your street, teetering down it in a slight jog as the two of you held onto each other in an attempt to not slip. By the time you jogged up the front steps, you were both drenched. You were so distracted with getting the door unlocked that you didn’t even notice the hungry look in Heather’s eyes as they dragged up your body. Your dress was soaked, clinging to you, your chest heaving from the run, water droplets trailing their way across your skin, a little shiver broke you out in goosebumps.

“C’mon,” your voice broke through her lust filled daydreams, “I don’t have much designer, but I’m sure you can find some suitable clothes in my closet.”

You held out your hand to her as you kicked off your heels, tugging her up the stairs. It was a flurry of movement once you were in the hallway, the hand Heather had enclosed with yours tugged at you, spinning you suddenly and pinning you to the wall. Your breath caught in your throat, glancing up at her wide eyed as her thumb trailed over your lips her hand resting against your cheeks as she leant in, lips brushing over your own.

“Fuck the clothes.”

You attempted to surge up to meet her lips and she chuckled, teasing you for a moment before kissing you, her tongue instantly slipping into your mouth. You couldn’t help but let out a groan as her thigh settled between your legs, the hand she had on your hip guiding you to grind against it. Your arms wound around her shoulders, pulling yourself closer to her as the fiery kiss continued. Your breath picked up as you felt your dress riding up over your thighs, your panties now directly grinding onto her thigh. You couldn’t help but break the kiss to let out a low moan and Heather chuckled,

“Good girl.”

“I thought you said fuck the clothes.” You managed to mumble out between pants, your hands tickling just under the hem of Heather’s shirt.

“I suppose I did.” She replied with a smirk, her leg suddenly disappearing from between your legs as her hands wound around your body, pulling down the zipper on your dress. With a small nudge from you she took a guess as to which room was your bedroom, the two of you stumbling in that direction as a pile of drenched clothing was strewn behind you.

You felt the back of your knees hit the edge of your bed and you steadied yourself against Heather’s shoulders, not wanting to break the kiss quite yet, eager for more of the feeling of her lips on yours. She easily stripped you out of your bra, tossing it to the side as her hands glided up your torso, lips smiling against yours at the little shiver you let out. Her hands cupped around your chest, groping gently, then pinching at your hardened nipples and you groaned, your back arching toward her. Your hands wound around her and she let you un-clasp her bra, it finding a home on the floor as she nudged you toward the bed.

“Lie back.” She murmured, “I want to see that pretty pussy…”

With a small giggle you dropped down onto the bed, shifting until your head hit the pillows and your fingers slipped into the waistband of your panties, slinking them down your legs and tossing them to the side. Feeling Heather’s eyes dragging down your body you spread your legs a hand dipping between your legs to spread your pussy open for her and she let out a low swear at the sight of it glistening already in the low light.

“Your clothes weren’t the only thing drenched, were they?” She teased with a raised brow, her fingers dancing up and down your legs and you laughed softly.

“Grab that towel.” You murmured, gesturing toward a chair beside the bed and she raised a brow yet again, grin on her lips as she did so, settling it under your hips.

“That’s a good sign.” She chuckled, leaning over you to steal a kiss, one that was fiery, full of need and desire from both sides. Her tongue eagerly explored your mouth while her hand found its way between your legs. First she simply cupped you, hand pressing against your heat, your clit nearly pulsing underneath it. You let out a small whine into the kiss and she chuckled against your skin, her lips trailing across your jaw, nipping her way down your neck as her fingers began to toy with you.

“Please…”

Her lips still tracing over the skin of your neck and shoulders, Heather sunk a finger into you, her eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. She pumped a few times and then added a second digit, letting out a low breath at the feeling of your warmth wrapped around her. Your pussy was soaked, walls fluttering around her fingers, she could feel your chest beginning to heave underneath her body as she continued to nibble and kiss at your neck.

One of your hands wound around her body, the other tanging into her damp hair, your hips beginning to rock in tandem with the way her fingers fucked you, the heel of her hand brushing against your clit. She curled her fingers, searching out for that sensitive spot within you, lips breaking out into a smile as you gasped, knowing she’d found it.

“Oh fuck…yes… right there.” The fingers you had tangled in her hair tightened and she picked up the pace, fingering you faster, feeling the way you were already clenching around her. She could hear yourself getting wetter, the sounds of your pussy echoing through the room, juices dribbling around her hand.

Reluctantly, she pushed herself up to sitting, tearing her lips away from your heated skin. She settled between your legs, her hand continually fucking into you, pulling whimpers and moans from your lips as your eyes squeezed shut at the pleasure soaring through you. Her free hand moved to your clit, the fingers within you vanishing for a moment as she spread your juices around your cunt, gently slapping at your clit before they slipped back into your needy pussy. You let out a gasp at the slap, one that hitched your breath, hips rocking back up toward the movement, letting her know that you enjoyed it. Smirking, she pinched your throbbing clit between her thumb and finger, rolling it between them a few times before the pads of her fingers took over, rubbing it in time with how she fucked you.

“You like that don’t you?” She murmured, fingers curling within you once more and you let out a moan, “like your pretty pussy stuffed full? So fucking wet kitten…”

“Oh god… please! Don’t stop!”

Heather kept up with her movements, the pressure on your clit increasing and you shuddered, letting out another gasp. One of your hands clutched at the sheets while the other one pinched at your own nipple, groping the curve of flesh, as your body began to tremble. Heat prickled at your skin and Heather could feel your cunt clenching around her fingers as she curled them over and over again. You let out a small cry, your hips shooting up off the bed as your juices shot out of you, dribbling down her wrist and onto the towel. The hand on your clit vanished, fingers tracing delicate patterns into your burning skin while she slowed the ones inside you, fucking through your orgasm as your panting slowed, eyes fluttering open to gain her gaze and you gave her a breathless smile that she returned. She pulled her fingers out of your pussy and much to her surprise your hand shot out, wrapping around her wrist and tugged her upwards, your own lips wrapping around them and sucking them clean.

“Here I was thinking I’d get a sample of how sweet you tasted.” She murmured and you chuckled, pulling her to you for a kiss, letting her groan over the slight taste of your juices still on your tongue.

“It’s not like the opportunity is completely missed.” You smirked and she laughed.

“You’re right….”

With a grin she nipped at your lower lip before sinking down your body once again settling between your legs, this time on her stomach. She could see the way your pussy was still fluttering, sensitive in the cool air, but that wasn’t about to stop her. Her tongue lapped through you, groaning into your cunt over how delectable you tasted before her lips closed around your clit. She began to lazily eat you out, and that you were thankful for, still half recovering from your first orgasm, and you had a feeling she wasn’t going to stop at two.

*

Just as you had expected, Heather managed to easily pull another three orgasms from you with her mouth and the combination of that and her fingers. She praised you the entire way through, murmuring how good you tasted, how well you were doing for her, encouraging you to keep going, come one more time for her. You shivered nearly every time she called you kitten and you couldn’t get enough of the feeling of her body on yours. Finally as the fourth orgasm washed over you, you tugged at her hair, pulling her mouth off you and with a chuckle she finally crawled back up the bed, settling beside you as you caught your breath.

“Jesus Christ you are really good at that.” You panted, rolling your head to look over at her and she chuckled, an arm winding around you to pull you to her, letting you rest on her chest.

“I’m glad to hear, it’s been a while. I was worried I was out of practice.”

“If that was out of practice, I’m scared of a well rehearsed performance.” You teased and she chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your head as you began to draw patterns on her skin with your fingertips.

A few moments of comfortable silence passed, the rain softly strumming against the window panes, the low rumble of thunder in the distance. You were lulled into a relaxed state, both from the orgasms, and the beat of Heather’s heart, your breathing finally calming down and synching with hers. You let out a soft hum at the feel of her hand coming up to play with your hair, combing gently through the still damp locks. You pressed a soft kiss to her bare skin, murmuring against it,

“Did you want to stay?”

“I do believe I was promised ice cream.” She prodded at your side, “I wasn’t planning on leaving before dessert.” You let out a scoff of a laugh, rolling your eyes and pinching at her skin while she chuckled, “but yes, I’d love to stay.”

“Okay.” Raising your head, you stole a smiling kiss from her before shifting off the bed, taking the towel with you and grabbing a robe from the bathroom, “I’ll be right back.”

 Heather made herself comfortable, slipping under the blankets as she listened to you hurry down the stairs and the distant sound of you digging through your kitchen, pausing to pick up a couple of other things along the way. When you reappeared, you left her purse on a chair on her side of the bed, digging up an extra phone cord from your dresser for her if she needed it before plugging your own in and settling back into bed with the pint of ice cream.

The tv got flicked on, reruns playing in the background while the two of you dug into the treat, stealing spoonful’s and sticky kisses. A few hours later you let out a little yawn, emptied container of ice cream abandoned on the side table while you were snuggled deep into Heather’s side. She gave you a little squeeze, kissing the top of your head and you hummed, mentioning that she could leave the tv on if wanted and she let out a little chuckle as you buried yourself into her and the bed, getting as comfortable as you could before drifting off.

___________ @ms-calhoun @naturalxselection @yesterdaysgone @hbkpop @giftedchildturns40 @anya-casablanca @svulife-rl  @swimmingstudentchaos891 @alexusonfire @jamiethetrans @natasha-danvers @oliviaswifey @mysticfalls01 @cmmndrwidw @bumblebear30 @svushots @yourtaletotell @cerberus-spectre @emskisworld @ex-uallyactive @addictedtodinosaurs @imaginaryoperagloves @multifandomlesbianic @annegilletteslostwh0r3 @bookpillows @drduckthief @whimsicallymad @mmmmokdok @ladysc @momlifebehard @mmemalwa @holycrapraewth @poisonedcrowns @wannabe-fic-reader @when-wolves-howl @dead-of-niight @fighterkimburgess @lannister-slings-and-arrows @borg-queer

[misstaishiro]

Hi!! This is my firts drabble uwu hope you like it. Characters are aged up.

Pairing: jealous!kuuro x fem manager!reader

words:1400~ aprox

Content and TW: university au, adult aged up, nsfw, jealousy, dom!kuuro, vouyerism, public sex, silent sex, sub!reader, just kuuro enjoying making out with you and being a brat.

Synopsis: Kuuro gets to hear some nasty stuff about your relationship with him, and plans to make them know you wont leave his side.

"Shh, don't make a sound."

When all the teams were paired up like that for summer practices, you didn't expect your boyfriend to get a tiny pinch possessive.

It was pretty unnoticeable at first, just arms surprising you while holding your casually by your shoulders. Sending you kisses between sets and calling you out because you were cheering up other teams because a new strategy they made up.

"Y/N, did you see that?" said loudly with a smirk when he got your attention again.

Kuuro wasn't the type of getting jealous because of his teammates or your talkative ways to others. But right now, he was jealous of you spending time with Tsukishima, he was angry at the way Bokuto called you "Princess" even though he used to do that before you were a couple, he was just... getting moody with the days, waiting for the week to be over now.

But his las drop of patience died because he overheard something in the bathrooms coming from other school's teams.

"Geez... Y/N is so hot... I really really wait for him to screw everything up with her." Oikawa's voice was pretty devilish while drying up his body.

" Oh, it's a matter of time, sadly." Added the voice of Bokuto, with a frown. "Do you remember his last girlfriend? Just 4 months and then he ditched her up because he wanted Y/N..."

"... and he did the same with the girl before her, and the girl before..." Akaashi's voice seemed sad, because everyone knew what that meant for you.

Yes, he had that pattern, and you already talked with him about that.

And it wasn't a pattern, because apparently Kuuro was in love with you the moment he saw you as team's manager; you were so out of his league, that he dated several girls trying to fulfill the void in his heart. You were ok with that, because... How is he supposed to tell you he loves you when you are just a friend?

Every year he saw how you were so close to Bokuto and far from him. Last year he had enough of watching you and being just a friend of his and asked you out after finals.

It was hard for you because you knew him.

"I... like you too..." your voice was like a soft whisper. Kuuro's eyes went bright, he was starting to smile at you. “But… we can’t be together, Tetsuro-kun”

His heart broke with that sentence, his eyes reached yours to seek an answer while you were trying to avoid his gaze…

“Y/N… Please… What did I do to you?” he was begging, tears were threatening to come out from his eyes and his voice was breaking…

But you two worked it out. Communication is everything in a relationship and now, against everyone’s expectation, you were about to reach your first year of being together.

So, when he knew most of the teams were expecting him to ruin you, screw you up, to break your heart… He was pissed off.

They don’t know what is coming, the storm they’ve just awaken.

“Tetsu” you called in a whisper while he was dragging you out of the girl’s room quietly. “what is happening?”

“shh…” He looked at you, like an excited child. His hair was down and he smelled like he took a shower not long ago. “Please… Just tonight…” Hand together, begging you to sleep with him. “I’ll wake up before anyone notices…”

“That’s the worst part…” You said, giving up and following him, yawning.

The room was filled with sleeping bodies, you could recognize some because if their hair or silhouettes. You both moved between everyone, stepping carefully to not wake someone up, not letting go of your hand until you went to his futon, besides his was Kenma sleeping with a Nintendo shut off.

He sat and pulled you to make you fall on top of him, you squeaked and he grabbed you, hand in your mouth to keep silent and the two froze in tense, expecting someone to wake up from your little yell, but nothing happened. Sighting, you felt Kuuro’s body relaxing and he sat you.

One hand in your mouth keeping you silent, another hand in your belly hugging you. Long legs coping yours, you felt his chin resting in your shoulders as he was speaking lowly in your ear.

“Don’t make a sound, my dear” and kissed your neck slowly. Soft and warm lips pressing against your skin, his right abandoned your belly and went to your chest, massaging one of your boobs.

You squirm, trying to stop him. Cheeks growing red while panic was in your eyes, watching Tsukishima turn in his sleep. If he wakes up…

“I’m so needy…”his voice, so soft and calm. Only you could hear that… Right?

You looked at Kenma, peacefully sleeping while you felt something rub the low part of your back, all of this was so… wrong, you shouldn’t been allowing him to touch you there, you were needy too, hungry for his touch since this “camp” started.

“Fuck it” you though, and Kuuro’s hands were pressing and massaging until your nipples popped out.

He hummed, satisfied when you didn’t fight back and allowed him to continue when you open more your legs.

“That’s my girl” He said, abandoning your mouth and using his left to press and massage your tights.

A shiver went down your spine, when you felt his large fingers reach to your clit and toy with your nipples. Lips biting and licking your neck while you press your own hands in your mouth to keep you silent from this pleasure.

Soft whispers were dying, and muffled sounds came from you when he was fingering you, wet sound coming from you while the orgasm was so close to you… and then, Kuuro stopped. You opened your eyes, expecting to find someone awake, embarrassed already but it wasn’t that.

In a movement, Tetsuro switched your place and now you were covered by the futon. His erect cock waiting for you and a smirk coming from him. He leaned a bit, and told you in a whisper “If you don’t’ make me cum first, I will edge you all night”

A treat. Smirking at you, he grabbed you head to guide you where you belong.

At first you were shy, taking the tip of his length slowly. A groan came from him and you looked at him with a frown, index in front of your lips telling him to shut up.

And then you started again, taking him slowly in your mouth. One part of your brain wanted to finish quick so no one would notice, but being in the boys rooms, with most of your friends and teammates sucking your boyfriends cock was so exciting that you wanted to take your time.

But Kuuro had other plans and grabbed you by your hair and pulled you down to take him in a slip, making you gag loudly below the futon sheets. He made you look at him and mimic the motion of putting his index in front of his mouth, telling you to shut up.

“Oh… Y/N, your slutty mouth is amazing…” whispered when you looked at him with angry face.

Kuuro continued to guide you, up and down his length. Eye contact never breaking between both of you. Moon light allowing you to see his features of pleasure while licking and deepthroating him with slow motions, so you don’t gag again.

Praising you, for taking his big cock inside your mouth with grace; calling you a whore because you were sucking him while everyone was asleep; and feeling like a king because you were his, his to love forever.

He wasn’t paying attention to the room, he wasn’t looking at how Tooru opened his eyes because an “annoying wet noise” coming from somewhere, waking him up at the middle of the night. Kuuro didn’t look at Kenma, whose cock was rock hard below the sheets from hearing both of you. And sure, he does not notice Tsukishima was recording in his mind the way your head goes up and down even though is just the futon what is moving.

“Fuck Y/N…” He whimpers and takes your head down his length while cumming in your throat, forcing you to take it all in your mouth, deleting the evidence. Your eyes wide open and when you separated yourself none of you notice how the other guys close their eyes rapidly.

You cough punching him in his arm while taking deep breaths to calm you down. He smiled at you and both of you got inside the futon; hugging you while now it was his turn to reward you, raising an eyebrow with an egocentric look when he spotted Oikawa looking at your direction.

“C’mon babe… Let’s go to the bathroom, I want to do this properly”

[peaceisadirtyword]

Your Grace (Ivar/Reader)

A/N: Hello! This is the first part of the fic I wrote for the Vikings Big Bang and that was posted a few weeks ago on AO3! As I said a couple of days ago I'm going to post it here too☺️ so here it is! It has 7 parts, tonight I’ll just post the first two (because the first one is short!) and in the next few days I'll continue. I hope you all like it, thank you for reading!❤️

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, ableism, anxiety, hints of depression, low self-esteem, mentions of death, blood, fights... Smut, oral sex (female receiving). Also talk of an arranged marriage.

Words: 4555

Masterlist

Read on AO3

Part 1: forever winter 

Ivar could hear the distant sounds of the feast. The laughs, yells, even the fights. If he closed his eyes he could see the people dancing, feel the warmth of the fire on his skin, hear the happy music and smell the meat and the fish on the plates, taste the sweet mead. There was only joy and celebration, the men forgot their differences and drank together until they passed out in the Hall. Maybe in the near future they would try to kill each other.

His eyes were fixed on the sea, though. It was calm and dark, and Ivar wondered if the water would be as cold as it seemed. The wind wasn't as cold now, though, the summer was close and the nights got a bit warmer. He wondered then if anyone in the feast realised he wasn't there. His mother would probably start looking for him soon, and Ivar didn't want to look at her in the face and say what he was thinking out loud. She was probably the only one that could stop him.

Sigurd's voice echoed in his head again. “Father left you to the wolves, that was smart of him".

Aslaug had gasped then, even Björn had frowned at that. Everyone on the table looked at Ivar, with pity on their eyes.

"What? We all know Ivar is nothing but a burden here, our lives would be much better without him".

Everyone glared at Sigurd, tried to ignore him and even rolled their eyes, but Ivar knew what they were thinking. Ivar knew they thought that same thing about him too. At least Sigurd was brave enough to say it out loud.

He tore his eyes from the dark water and fixed them on his legs. Bounded together with leather cords, they seemed to hurt more than ever that night. He had seen everyone's eyes fix on them at least once, but the worst part was when everyone looked up at him and he was able to read their thoughts. In some of those strangers' eyes he saw mockery, they obviously thought he was useless, but the worst ones were the ones that pitied him. A viking that can't walk? Can he even approach a woman? He won't have children, he won't fight in a battlefield, he won't discover new lands nor build kingdoms, like his father did.  

He will die in bed, during a cold night, without achieving anything worthy. He won't reach Valhalla.

That was funny for some of them, sad for others.

Ragnar had thought the same, that's why he decided to leave him in the woods to die, as Sigurd liked to remind him. He preferred a dead son than a crippled one. He thought Ivar wouldn't survive that long, and if he did he would have a life full of misery, it wasn't worthy...

Ragnar Lothbrok was always right.

Grunting in rage, he punched his right leg repeatedly. He was so angry, sad and cold that he barely felt the bone break. That morning he had woken up with very blue eyes.

And then he looked up, repressing a scream directed to the Gods. Why did they curse him with something like that? Was it some kind of punishment? He couldn't understand, and it drove him mad not to understand things.

Maybe soon he would be able to ask them directly.

But just when he was about to jump, looking down at the water again with tears of rage and desperation in his eyes, a voice startled him.

"A bit late for a bath, isn't it?"

Ivar jumped, turning around to find the person that dared to bother him. He felt uneasy then, knowing someone had witnessed his breakdown, his most vulnerable moment. But it wasn't any of his brothers, no one he knew, actually. It was a girl, who stood there looking at him with her head tilted, wrapped on a woolen cloak that probably belonged to someone way taller than her. Ivar could barely see her face in the darkness, but he knew he didn't know her. At least her voice wasn't familiar.

"Who are you?" his hand reached for the knife he had on his belt, and watched the girl frowned, stepping back.

"I don't think your mother would appreciate it if you threw a dagger to one of your guests" you bit your lip. You knew Ivar Ragnarsson, the youngest of the princes of Kattegat, had a reputation of being short-tempered, and even if you really wanted to help him, you hoped to do it without risking your life.

One of your guests. So that's who you were, probably the daughter of one of the Earls that had arrived in Kattegat in the last few days and who were now getting drunk and laughing in the Great Hall.

"You weren't thinking about jumping, were you?"

Ivar rolled his eyes, annoyed. He didn't know who you were, but he was losing his patience.

"Why do you care!?" he yelled, the tears had dried on his cheeks "Why don't you just leave?"

"I heard your fight with your brother" you sighed, and finally started approaching him "I heard what he said to you"

Ivar clenched his jaw. Great, someone else pitying him, another grimace and more sympathy words. He was so sick of it.

"Why do you care?" he repeated, scoffing "Leave"

"No" you frowned "Not until you've listened to me"

If Ivar Ragnarsson thought he was stubborn... Well, he still had to get to know you.

"Why would I listen to you? I don't even know you" he rolled his eyes.

"My name is Y/N" you tried to smile at him.

He didn't smile back.

"I don't care" he looked away when you were finally closer to him. He tensed, and you stopped walking, kneeling on the cold ground to sit.

"I don't think you're a burden" you muttered. Ivar froze.

"You don't know me" he narrowed his eyes.

"No" you agreed, sighing "But my father brought me here telling me I should get to know the sons of Ragnar, because I will probably marry one of them when I get older, when I start bleeding" you said slowly, expecting his yelling again. But he didn't interrupt you this time "He encouraged me to talk to Ubbe, Hvitserk and Sigurd, and no one mentioned you until I asked"

"Don't worry, your father wouldn't marry you to a cripple" his tone was cold, and you widened your eyes at him.

"I'm not worried about that, in fact, the only one that caught my attention was you"

Great, now she's amazed because she sees me like a freak.  

"I mean" you sighed "The only one I want to get to know right now is you, because I..." you interrupted yourself, flustered.

"Save your pity" he glared at you "I don't need it"

"I don't pity you" you shook your head "Maybe at first I did, a bit, but then I saw you fighting" your voice sounded amazed "I saw you taking down your brothers, with no effort, I've seen you speak, I've seen you play Hnefatafl and win every single time, I... I've seen enough to know you're not a burden, but instead I think you're the most special of the sons of Ragnar"

Ivar didn't answer at first, too stunned after hearing your words. He hadn't seen you watching him, he thought no one would pay attention to him for as long as his brothers were around. Most of the guests didn't even acknowledge his presence until Aslaug or Ubbe introduced him. But there you were, listing all the things you admired.

"I can't walk" he clenched his jaw again, but this time at least he wasn't glaring at you "I can't fight properly, I can't do... Normal tasks, I can't be a viking" he nearly growled, with his eyes full of tears.

"But you are a viking" you shot him a sweet smile "You fight better than many men I've seen without using your legs, you're smart, you are strong... Your brother is wrong, you're not a burden, and you deserve to live as much as any of your brothers do" you sighed "I can't really change your mind if you want to drown in there" you nodded at the black water "Because you don't know me and probably don't care about my opinion, but it would be a pity, because I'm sure you're destined to great things, Ivar, and I think you're worth much more than you believe"

He hesitated then, and his cold eyes travelled from you to the water.

You smiled in victory when he moved in your direction, looking like he had changed his mind. What Ivar couldn't understand was why did you care so much, why did you follow him out of the feast? Why were you so worried? What made you step closer to stop him?  

No one but his mother would care, he had thought, and she would even be relieved with time, because she wouldn't have to spend every single day worrying about him.

Before he could open his mouth again to ask you, Ivar heard his name, and as soon as he looked in that direction he saw his brothers. In some way, it comforted him to know they had been looking for him. That they cared in some way, maybe because Aslaug made them to, but they were there anyway. Ubbe and Hvitserk approached them with a worried expression.

"We couldn't find you" Ubbe nearly scolded him "You shouldn't be here all alone, it's late and cold" he sighed, but stopped when he saw you sitting near him. Ivar blushed, thankful for the darkness that hid it, and watched as you smiled nervously.

"Hi, sorry, Ivar and I just went away to talk for a bit" you said in a sweet tone "It was noisy near the Hall so we came here because I said I wanted to see the fjord" you lied, and Ivar was secretly relieved that you didn't say the truth.

"Hi Y/N" Ubbe smiled at you "I'm glad you both had a chance to talk a bit more"

You'd swear he was even nicer to you when he knew you were talking to Ivar than he did when you were talking to him. Hvitserk was smirking from behind him.

"Me too, Ivar is really nice" you stood up "I better go now, my father is probably wondering where I am and he wouldn't like to know I'm alone with three boys" you giggled "I'll see you tomorrow, good night!"

You only leant down to kiss Ivar's cheek, making his skin burn to the point he thought everyone could see it, before you turned around and left. Ubbe muttered a goodbye and turned to look at his little brother with a wide smile on his face.

Great, he'd have to deal with their teasing for days.

_____________________________________________

Ivar looked surprised, to say the least, when you entered his chambers just as he prepared to leave for England. You wore a beautiful blue dress, probably a gift from Queen Aslaug, and your hair loose, showing your status as an unmarried woman that your father hoped would attract some suitors. Even if you rejected every single one that asked for your hand.

"I'm sorry if I'm intruding" you smiled shyly "Ubbe told me you were preparing to leave with your father"

Ivar winked a few times and nodded slowly, feeling his cheeks burn as you approached him, a small smile still on your lips. Even if some years had passed since you met him for the first time, you still felt nervous and shy every time you approached him.

"May I?" you pointed at the spot next to him on his bed.

"Sure" he muttered, shrugging.

Sitting down next to him, you looked at his legs. He had discarded the leather straps he used to bind them together, and you spotted the pair of crutches leant on the bed.

"I wanted to say goodbye to you" you sighed "Your mother said..."

"That I will die, I know" Ivar clenched his jaw.

"I think she's wrong" you added quickly "It's not like I'm going to say that to her " you chuckled "But I think you will survive"

"I'm a cripple" he sighed "Every journey is dangerous for a cripple"

"But you're much more than that" you frowned "We've had this conversation many times"

"Not this year, though" Ivar bit his lip "You haven't spoken to me since you came back"

For years, Kattegat became your home for the spring and the summer, waiting for the moment in which you'd have the proper age to get married and also to choose to whom you'd be married. Your father, an Earl that was fortunate enough to have sons, was obsessed with the idea of marrying his only daughter to a prince. And what is better than a prince? A prince that is also a son of Ragnar.

That year, though, you felt the pressure more than ever, your father wanted you to get closer to Ubbe or Sigurd, but instead you got closer to Hvitserk and Ivar. Hvitserk having a questionable reputation with women in the entire kingdom and Ivar being definitely not an option for your father. This year he gave you a warning; either you came back home with a suitor or he would choose your future husband.

"I thought you didn't want to speak to me" you muttered, looking down at your lap "You were with Margrethe"

He clenched his jaw at the mention of her name.

"I was with her because you ignored me"

"I didn't ignore you" you frowned "I just... My father wanted me to choose a husband this year"

Ivar's eyes turned cold, and he looked at his legs as he adjusted the straps around them.

"Everyone says you'll marry Hvitserk"

"Everyone but me" you smiled softly "I wouldn't marry Hvitserk, I love him but he's like a brother to me"

Ivar frowned.

"Better him than an old man"

"But he's not my first choice" you raised an eyebrow, and looked away as soon as he turned his head back to you.

"Do you even have a choice?"

"I like to think I do, yes" you smiled softly "Even if my father has the last say on it"

"And who is your choice then? Sigurd?" you heard the mocking on his tone.

"No" you licked your lips nervously "I brought you something"

Ivar opened his mouth to reply to you when he saw you holding something.

"I had it made for you" you smiled softly "I wanted to give it to you before leaving, but I think you might need it in England" you muttered.

The sharp edge of the knives shone even in the dim light of the chambers, it ended on a ring instead of an usual handle. Better for throwing instead of stabbing, like Ivar used to do. They came in leather sheaths, with serpents carved on them. His finger caressed the blade, a stunned expression on his face.

"They are beautiful" he muttered, and looked up to you again "Thank you, Y/N"

You smiled brightly at him, and he couldn't help but smile back before looking down at the knives. No one had ever given him weapons before, probably thinking that he couldn't use them. Every single weapon he had was made by himself in the forge. You admired his face once again. His hair was getting longer, and you thought he'd look very good with braids. His bright eyes looked at the gift with admiration, and your heart skipped a beat when he looked at you again.

Before you could even think twice about it you grabbed his face and kissed him. At first he froze, you could feel his lashes touching your skin as he blinked a few times, before he kissed you back.

"You have to come back from England" you sighed against his lips when you broke the kiss, your eyes were wet now, and your heart beat so fast against your chest you feared he would hear it "Promise me you'll be back"

_______________________________________

His tears wetted your dress, his head pressed against your chest as you caressed his hair, you closed your eyes and pressed your cheek against his head. Ivar's body shivered every time he sobbed, and you felt your eyes full of tears. You wished you could just take all of his pain and suffering.

"I didn't mean to kill him" he whispered, and his ragged breath made your stomach clench "I swear, he... He was my brother"

"I know" you frowned softly. You had also gasped in horror when the axe had sunk into Sigurd's chest. It was true you didn't get along with him, but his shocked face as he tried to approach Ivar with the axe was printed in your head. The words he had dedicated to his younger brother weren't nice, but he didn't deserve that death.

"I feel so alone" he muttered "They don't believe me"

"You're not alone" you kissed his temple softly "Ivar, look at me"

When he finally fixed his now reddened eyes on you, full of tears and widened with desperation, your fingers caressed his cheek.

"You're not any of those things Sigurd said" you pressed your forehead against his, whispering. No one knew you were inside that tent, and no one could know.

Ivar didn't reply. You had seen the way his brothers had looked at him during Sigurd's funeral, you had heard the whispers and the way people fell silent whenever Ivar approached. Your own father was wary of him now, and instead of saying he was a 'helpless cripple', he now stated he was a dangerous man, unstable and temperamental. You understood everyone's fear, you had felt it too when you saw his face contorted in rage directed at his own brother, the confusion when he realised what he had done.

For a moment you were scared. Scared of him and his temper. Ivar had never done anything to hurt you, he never hit you nor pushed you even when the two of you fought like you had seen other men do with their lovers when they were angry. He refused to train with you, afraid that he'd hurt you by accident. Because, even if you were strong and could fight as well as any man, he had maybe too much strength sometimes. But, what if you ever said something that angered him as much as Sigurd had? Would he throw an axe at you too? Would he scream and threaten you? Or would he hold himself because it was you?

"He was always making fun of me, he laughed at me, he blamed me for everything, he hated me" Ivar clenched his jaw, and for a moment you saw the rage in his eyes again and shivered.

"He didn't hate you" you pouted, and he shook his head, sitting up and getting away from you. His hair was dishevelled, longer than ever now. He didn't cut it since you said you'd like to braid it one day.

"He did" his voice was broken and he sniffed, rubbing his face again "And everyone hates me now" he sighed "Floki is leaving, my brothers won't look at me in the face"

"I'm still here" you nearly pouted. Sometimes it felt like he took you for granted, almost like everything you did for him was overlooked, he expected it already.

But you weren't his wife yet, you were still fighting your own family to marry him, and sometimes you wondered if he'd do the same for you.

Ivar drank an entire jar of mead before laying back down, his face red and his eyes puffy from crying. You sighed and hugged him again, this time leaning your head on his chest and letting his heartbeat calm you again.

"Sleep, you haven't slept in days" you whispered, and Ivar nodded slowly.

"Will you stay?"

You muttered a small 'yes' as he put the furs over the two of you. You would always stay, until he stopped asking. Even if you had to deal with the whispers and the glares of your family the morning after. Ivar would need to prove himself better than a couple of good strategies in battle to gain your father's favour and your hand. Even if you couldn't care less.

Ivar's lips touched your temple softly, silently thanking you for being there. And then he held you the entire night.

________________________________________

Your hands nearly collided with his chest, your nails digging into his skin as you leant down to kiss his lips again. The furs the thralls had put on the Bishop's bed, which Ivar had claimed as soon as he entered York, felt soft and warm against your naked skin as his calloused hands, scarred from years of holding weapons and crawling, caressed your waist, the curve of your ass and your thighs that rested at each side of his hips. Ivar groaned when he felt your breasts pressed against his chest and he bit your lower lip, drawing a bit of blood that made him moan.

He still tasted like blood, battle and death. You had seen him, screaming at the top of his lungs to a crowd of terrified Saxons, even if you were scared because any of them could hurt him. No one dared to approach him, they widened their eyes in fear and the men in his own army whispered in admiration. Finally, all of them saw what you had seen in him since the first day.

And later, as you washed the blood off of him, he had kissed you for the first time in days. You were afraid that he had forgotten about you, that he was too busy conquering York and fighting the new Saxon king, but as he muttered just how much he missed you and took your clothes off, forgetting the bath you were preparing for him, you realized you had been stupid. He could never forget about you.

Ivar's fingers worked wonders, and you couldn't keep quiet even if you tried by the time you made it to the bed. You fought to take his clothes off but could only get him shirtless before he got maybe too impatient, and grabbed your wrists to pull you into his lap, as he always did during the feasts. Your father had resigned a long time ago, but since he conquered York he seemed much more keen on letting you marry him. You had even heard him talking about how Ivar had the mind and the spirit to conquer all of Northumbria if he ever wanted, but you knew he wasn't interested in Northumbria, at least not yet.

"Come closer" Ivar muttered, pulling you up with his hands on your thighs "Hvitserk told me something he did with a shieldmaiden a few days ago..." he barely finished.

"What?" you raised an eyebrow, holding back a laugh.

"Your knees on both sides of my head" he ordered, his lips curving on a smile. You gulped, suddenly feeling shy as you obeyed, crawling over him and looking away. Ivar's eyes shone with anticipation, and you gasped when he licked his lips before looking up at you.

"Don't hover, sit" he frowned, grabbing your hips to pull you down. You yelped and put your hand on the wall behind the bed, trying to keep your body still as you moaned when his lips touched your sex softly.

"Ivar, what...?"

"Shh" his teeth dig on your inner thigh and your legs started trembling, still caged inside his strong arms.

"You won't be able to breath"

He rolled his eyes again, pulling you closer again.

"I can think of worse ways to die" he shrugged, and bit your thigh again "I would be welcomed in Valhalla"

You couldn't reply, instead your nails scratched the stone wall as his lips kissed your sex again. Then he started using his tongue, and your eyes fluttered as your entire body trembled. You were almost ashamed of the sounds you were making, and hoped that the guards at the door didn't hear you. Ivar's hand grabbed your hips as the other one touched your entrance again. His icy eyes were fixed on you and you could feel his stare even with your eyes closed.

When you came, you moved your hips against his lips and moaned his name loudly. Ivar didn't seem to care when your thighs clenched around his head. You felt dizzy and very sensitive when your orgasm ended, and had to lean on the wall to avoid falling over him. Ivar chuckled and kissed your inner thigh before you moved down to straddle his hips again. He wiped his mouth with his hand, a smirk on his lips and you nearly moaned again at the sight.

"Wait" you gasped as he pushed his hips against yours "Please, I need a moment" you muttered with a giggle.

He didn't answer, instead he sat on the bed, pressing his bare chest against yours as his lips captured yours. You could taste yourself in his lips, and you deepened the kiss sighing into his mouth. It felt nice to have a less intense moment with him, but it didn't last as he undid his laces and pressed his cock against your entrance. You were still sensitive, but let him thrust into you. The two of you moaned at the same time, but he didn't move again until you did. This time his eyes fluttered and his skin turned somewhat red, as he gasped every time you moved your hips. You pressed your forehead against his and you'd swear it was the most intimate moment the two of you had ever shared. Ivar moaned your name and you couldn't take your eyes off of him. You remembered his screams on the battlefield, the fear in his enemies' eyes, and before you could even realise, you came again, clenching your walls around him and making him groan and moan loudly.

Trying to catch your breath, you laid down next to him. Immediately, ivar covered you with the furs, and you pressed your face against his shoulder, smiling softly. Ivar hummed and his arm sneaked around your waist to pull you closer. Giggling, you raised your head to look at him, frowning when you looked more closely at his injured eye. Your thumb caressed his cheek just under it.

"It will heal" he whispered, shrugging it off "I'm more worried about my brothers and their plans"

"Maybe next time don't risk your own life like that in battle" you scolded him softly.

Ivar rolled his eyes.

"Ubbe will go to the English to make a deal" he clenched his jaw "He won't listen to me"

"Maybe peace is a good option" you sighed "I'm tired of war"

"Peace is not an option" Ivar frowned "But once they fail, maybe they will realise I'm the only one able to lead this army properly" he muttered "I'll be king, Y/N, and you'll be my queen"

You smiled softly, but it didn't reach your eyes. Something in his tone seemed off. It unsettled you.

_________________________________

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