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bluebutterflytattooed · 2 months ago

Text

GAME ON

rugby!sevika x college roommate reader

CHAPTER FIVE

The day after the party, the dorm felt strangely quiet.

You sat cross-legged on your bed, your laptop open in front of you, pretending to read a chapter for class. But your brain was still at last night’s party—specifically, the part where you'd been dancing with Vi. And even more specifically, the part where Sevika had been watching you like a hawk.

Sevika had said nothing about it. That was the worst part.

When the door creaked open, your roommate walked in wearing her usual weekend attire: loose sweatpants, a white tank top, and her damp hair slicked back from a shower at the gym. Her presence immediately sucked the air out of the room.

“Hey,” Sevika said, grabbing a water bottle from the mini fridge. “How’s your hangover, party girl?” No mention of you sleeping in her clothes last night. Perfect.

You rolled her eyes, trying to keep cool. “I’m fine. I didn’t even drink that much.”

Sevika took a long sip of water, then leaned against her desk with a smirk. “Oh really? You seemed... loose on the dance floor.”

You felt heat crawl up your neck, a blush certainly making its way to your cheeks. “I was just dancing. That’s kind of what people do at parties.”

“With Vi?” Sevika raised an eyebrow. “You two looked real friendly.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Is this your way of teasing me?”

Sevika pushed off the desk and stepped closer, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Just making an observation. I didn’t know you liked girls who have pink hair and stupid tattoos.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “You’re jealous.”

Sevika scoffed. “Sure I am. I’ve got tattoos of my own. Jealous of the dancing? Maybe. But don’t flatter yourself too much. I just think it’s cute when you try to make me jealous.”

You tried to stay calm, but your stomach fluttered in a way you couldn’t control. “I wasn’t trying.”

Sevika took another step closer. “Then why were you looking at me the whole time you were dancing with her?”

That shut you up. Your lips parted, but no words came out.

Sevika leaned in, her voice low and teasing. “Next time you want to make me crazy, just say my name.”

Your breath caught in your chest.

Then, just as quickly as she’d come in, Sevika pulled back and grabbed her backpack. “Anyway,” she said casually, “I’m heading to the field. You coming to the game tomorrow?”

You swallowed and nodded, still flustered. “Yeah. I’ll be there.” It was on your plan, but… it seemed like it was Sevika’s own plan now, no longer in your control.

She winked. “Wear my number.”

And then she was gone, leaving you sitting in stunned silence, heart pounding, laptop completely forgotten.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was later that day. The dim light of the desk lamp cast a soft glow over the cluttered dorm room, its quiet hum barely breaking the stillness. You sat at your desk, surrounded by textbooks and scattered notes. The pages of your law textbooks blurred before your eyes as you flipped through them frantically, your hand moving too fast to actually process the information. You had been studying for hours, but nothing was sticking. The pressure was mounting, and you couldn’t seem to get a handle on it.

Your leg bounced nervously under the desk as your mind raced, flitting from one topic to another, unable to settle. Every time you thought you had a grip on the material, you’d remember another concept you hadn’t reviewed yet, or another case you hadn’t studied. Your breath quickened, and the anxiety in your chest felt suffocating. You pressed the heel of your hand into your temple, trying to calm yourself, but the panic was only growing.

Why is this so hard? Why can’t I just get it? You thought to yourself.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You wiped at your eyes furiously, willing yourself to keep it together. This was important. You couldn’t afford to mess up. Not now.

You let out a shaky breath, running your fingers through your hair in frustration, knocking your glasses askew in the process. You had always prided yourself on being a diligent student, but tonight, you felt like you were failing. The weight of your responsibilities were pressing down on you, and it felt like everything was slipping through you fingers.

You didn’t hear the door open, nor did you hear the soft footsteps approaching you until it was too late.

"Y/N," Sevika’s voice cut through the fog of panic, low and concerned. You looked up quickly, startled by the sudden presence in the room. Sevika stood in the doorway, wearing a pair of well-worn jeans, a black shirt, and a hoodie. Her hair was a bit messy, like she had been running her fingers through it all day, and her expression softened when she saw your frazzled state.

You blinked, trying to get a hold of yourself. "I—I’m fine," you stammered, but it didn’t sound convincing even to your own ears. You pulled your glasses off your face and rubbed your eyes, only making the tears more apparent.

Sevika stepped inside, closing the door gently behind her. "You’re obviously not fine," she said quietly, her tone soft but firm. She walked over to your desk, her brow furrowed with concern as she looked at the open textbooks, the disorganized notes, and the stress radiating off of you in waves.

You shook your head, trying to laugh it off, but it came out sounding more like a sob. "I just—this test is coming up, and I don’t think I’m ready. I can’t focus. I feel like I’m losing control." Your voice cracked on the last sentence, and you bit her lip, fighting the tears that were threatening to spill.

Sevika was silent for a moment, her gaze softening as she watched you struggle. She could see the stress in the way you were sitting, shoulders tense, your posture stiff as if bracing for something. Sevika had seen you like this before—stressed and overwhelmed, but never quite so vulnerable.

Without saying a word, Sevika sat down on the edge of your bed, her presence grounding and comforting. The silence in the room was thick, but it was a calm kind of silence, one that allowed you to take a deep breath, to collect herself. Sevika’s gentle gaze never left your shaking form, and it made something in your chest tighten. Was it the proximity between you two? Or was it the feeling that Sevika truly cared?

"I know it’s a lot," Sevika finally said, her voice soft but steady. "But you’ve got this. You’re one of the smartest people I know."

You glanced at Sevika, your heart fluttering at the unexpected compliment. Your throat tightened, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. You were so used to doing things on your own, to holding it all together, but there was something about Sevika’s quiet confidence, the way she was just sitting there with you, that made you feel a little less alone.

"I just don’t feel like I do," you admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. You glanced at the notes again, the words on the page looking foreign and impossible. "I can’t seem to focus. I’ve been trying for hours, and it’s like my brain just won’t work."

Sevika stood up, moving over to your side without a word. She didn’t try to fix anything or give you advice. Instead, she simply reached out, her hand gently placing itself over your own hand. Her fingers were warm, and the simple contact made your breath hitch and freeze in your lungs.

"Hey, it’s okay," Sevika said softly, her voice taking on a soothing tone. "You’re doing your best. That’s all you can do."

You let out a shaky sigh, resting your forehead against your hand, trying to steady your breathing. Your heart was still pounding in your chest, but something in Sevika’s steady presence was starting to calm the storm inside of you.

"You’re right," You said softly, your voice cracking just slightly. "I just wish I could focus more, you know?" You looked up at Sevika, meeting her eyes for the first time in a while. "I don’t want to disappoint anyone."

Sevika gave a small smile, a soft and reassuring one, and she squeezed your hand which was dwarfed in her much larger one. "You don’t have to be perfect. You’re allowed to struggle. You’re allowed to have moments like this." Her words were simple but meaningful, and they had a weight to them that you hadn’t been expecting.

You swallowed, feeling a lump in your throat. You hadn’t realized just how much you had been carrying until now. The pressure of the test, the expectations you had placed on yourself, the way you were trying to keep everything together. It felt like so much.

Sevika pulled her hand away (much to your sadness) but didn’t leave. She walked over to the desk, picking up one of the textbooks. "I don’t know anything about law, but if you want, I can help you study. Just... you know, not with the law stuff." She flashed you a grin, her usual cocky smile making an appearance again.

You laughed softly, the sound a little broken but genuine. "I don’t think you’d be much help with that," You said, but your voice was lighter now, the weight in your chest easing just a little bit.

Sevika shrugged casually. "Hey, I’ve got plenty of other skills," she teased, walking back to your side. "But if you ever need a break, I’m here. I’m good at distractions."

You couldn’t help but smile, the tension in your shoulders finally starting to ease as you let herself lean into the comfort of Sevika’s presence. Sevika was right. You didn’t have to do everything on your own.

Sevika sat down next to you, your shoulders brushing against hers. It was a small thing, but you felt the warmth of it spread through your body. Sevika was there, not asking anything from you, just being there.

"Thanks, Sevika," You whispered, your voice soft but filled with gratitude.

Sevika gave you a small, quiet nod. "Anytime, roomie," she said, her voice just as soft somehow, but there was something deeper in it now. Something more personal.

For a few moments, you both just sat there, the quiet comfort of each other’s presence wrapping around you. Sevika didn’t push you to continue studying. She didn’t try to force you to be anything other than what you were in that moment. Instead, she just let you breathe, let you feel the softness of the moment without rushing it.

And as you finally let yourself relax, your mind calming just a little, you realized that Sevika wasn’t just offering her help with your studies. She was offering something far more valuable. Something that, until now, you hadn’t known she needed: support.

And, for the first time in a while, you allowed herself to rest in that support.

"You really are good at distractions," You whispered, your voice light with laughter once again.

Sevika smirked, her hand brushing against yours again. "Yeah, I know," she said with a quiet confidence, her tone sincere and warm.

For that moment, nothing else mattered.

—-------------------------------------------------------------

The cold of the metal bleachers hit you the moment you sat down on them, cool steel against your warm skin, and you pulled your blue hoodie tighter around your shoulders. The sound of players grunting as they warmed up, the thump of bodies against bodies as tackles were performed, and the occasional cheer from the crowd created an atmosphere that was simultaneously intimidating and exhilarating. You had never been to a rugby game before, and as you took your seat in the stands, you couldn’t help but feel a little out of place.

But that was about to change. Today, you were there to support Sevika.

You had carefully chosen your outfit for the night, as part of your plan. The blue hoodie matched one of Sevika’s team colors, and the yellow tank top she wore underneath was the other color of the team, along with Sevika’s number, which you had painted on earlier that day. You had paired it with jeans, wanting to stay comfortable while also showing your support for Sevika in your own way. The outfit wasn’t too revealing, but it was still flattering enough that Sevika would notice. You hoped that, with all of your small steps, the plan was working.

Sevika had always been so confident, so unapologetic. But you had to admit, there was something so magnetic about watching her excel at something she was so passionate about. Sevika had that same confidence on the ice—effortless, undeniable, and so completely in control.

You settled more into your seat, your heart racing with a mixture of nerves and excitement. You had no idea what to expect, but you were here, and you were going to support Sevika like she had supported you in everything else.

Sevika's team appeared on the grassy field a few minutes later, the crowd erupting into cheers as the players took their positions. The excitement in the air was palpable, and you couldn’t help but glance over at Sevika, who was already focused, her eyes locked on the other team with the intensity of someone who had been born for this.

You had heard plenty of stories from Sevika about her games, how she had dominated as a star player and led her team to victory after victory. But hearing about it and seeing it firsthand were two completely different things.

The game started, and you quickly found herself caught up in the energy of it all. The speed, the strength, the sheer power of the players as they moved across the turf—it was all so much more thrilling than you had ever imagined. But what really caught your attention was Sevika.

She was everywhere. Moving with brutality and skill and strength, Sevika was constantly in the thick of the action, controlling the ball, setting up plays, and executing moves that had the crowd roaring in approval. You couldn’t help but cheer every time Sevika poached the ball or tackled someone, every time she scored or made a powerful move that left her opponents stumbling in her wake. Sevika was a force of nature, and you were completely in awe.

"Go Sevika!" You shouted, your voice rising above the noise of the crowd. You hadn’t realized just how loud you were until you saw a few people nearby look over at you, but you didn’t care. You were cheering for Sevika, and it felt right. You were proud of her, so proud.

Sevika glanced up from the game, her eyes briefly scanning the stands until they landed on you. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips when she saw you cheering for her. The sight of you in the stands, her number on your chest, visibly excited and clapping for her, made something inside of Sevika tighten, and she couldn’t help but feel a little lighter.

Your voice carried across the rink every time Sevika did something impressive—every pass, every shot, every ruck. Sevika couldn’t help but feel a little rush of warmth each time she heard her name come from your pretty lips, even though the game was far from over.

But Sevika wasn’t just a star player—she was also intense. At one point, after a particularly hard hit from one of the other team’s players, Sevika’s competitive side snapped into full gear. With an almost predatory look in her eyes, she ran over to the player who had been too rough and made a high tackle, shoving her hard, her expression one of pure aggression. Your heart skipped a beat as you watched Sevika take control of the situation, her assertiveness a thing of beauty. It was raw and powerful.

The game continued, and Sevika’s team dominated, scoring try after try. Sevika herself scored the final try, securing a resounding victory for her team. The crowd erupted in cheers, and you couldn’t help but stand up, clapping as loudly as you could. You were grinning from ear to ear, so proud of Sevika’s incredible performance.

As the final buzzer sounded, Sevika’s team ran to the stands to acknowledge the crowd, their coaches, and their fans. You were on your feet, still cheering as the players took their victory lap. You couldn’t wait to see Sevika, to congratulate her in person.

When the players started to file off the field and into the locker rooms, Sevika’s gaze immediately found you in the stands again. There was no hesitation this time. She sprinted right up to the edge of the rink, ignoring the usual post-game rituals and heading straight for you.

Your heart skipped a beat when you saw Sevika coming toward you, her face flushed from the game and her jersey damp with sweat. Sevika’s usual confident swagger was evident as she approached, and she didn’t slow down until she was right in front of you.

Without a word, Sevika reached out and pulled you into a tight hug. You froze for a second, not expecting the sudden gesture, but you then quickly melted into Sevika’s embrace, feeling the warmth of her body and the lingering heat of her sweat-soaked clothes. You were so happy in that moment, you didn’t even mind the smell of sweat.

"Sevika..." You breathed, your voice almost trembling. You didn’t care that Sevika was sweaty, that she probably smelled like the game. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Sevika was standing there, holding you.

Sevika pulled back just slightly, her hands resting on your shoulders as she looked you over. "You were amazing out there," You said, your voice filled with genuine admiration. "Seriously, you’re incredible."

Sevika’s eyes softened, a hint of something more in her gaze. You stepped back a little, looking her up and down. "You actually came," Sevika said, a hint of disbelief in her voice. "I didn’t think you would actually come to one of my games."

You smiled shyly, your heart fluttering. "Of course I came. I wanted to see you play. You’re... you’re amazing."

Sevika’s lips curled into a small, knowing grin, and before you could say anything else, Sevika pulled you into another hug, this time a little more lingering. Sevika wasn’t sure why, but the closeness felt different this time—more intimate. She was letting her guard down with you, and it felt natural.

"You’re making me feel all soft," Sevika teased, her voice low and playful as she pulled back again. "But seriously, thank you for coming."

You laughed softly, feeling a little embarrassed, but also incredibly happy. You beaming now, your cheeks flushed. "It was the least I could do. You’re the star of the game."

Sevika smirked, her sharp eyes softening just a little as she looked at you, her expression tender despite the playful exterior. She didn’t say anything else, just gave you one last quick squeeze before letting you go.

As Sevika jogged away, heading toward the locker room, you stayed where you were for a moment, your heart still racing from the rush of the game, the excitement of the night, and the overwhelming feeling of pride you felt for Sevika.

The night wasn’t over yet, but you already felt like you had experienced something special—something you had been waiting for, though you hadn’t quite realized it until now.

—-------------------------------------------------

The warm California night wrapped around Jinx’s warm, cozy house like a soft blanket. You had never stayed somewhere so homey before—the house was practically glowing in the dim evening light, all wood beams and brick chimneys leading down to burning fireplaces. It was the kind of house people only saw on Pinterest, with a backyard big enough to fit an entire farm, several horses, and even a little pond if they felt like adding that in.

You sat cross-legged on the plush, blanket-covered bed in Jinx’s room, wearing a pair of pajama shorts and an oversized sweater that you had borrowed from Jinx’s closet. Jinx, in a matching pajama set that was so neon it hurt your eyes, sat beside you, your phones lighting up the dim space as you both scrolled through Instagram.

"Okay, but can we talk about how you and Sevika are literally enemies-to-lovers right now?" Jinx said, nudging your side. "Like, you’re basically living in 2016 Wattpad."

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "We are not enemies-to-lovers! She’s just… Sevika. And I’m me. That’s all."

Jinx scoffed. "Yeah, okay. But if that’s true, then why are we stalking her Instagram right now?"

You opened your mouth, then shut it. Jinx had a point.

It had started out as a joke—just harmless curiosity. But now, as you two scrolled through Sevika’s Instagram, it was feeling a little less like a joke and a little more like something dangerous.

Sevika’s profile was, quite frankly, unfair. She wasn’t even trying to be an influencer or anything, but every picture was absurdly attractive and had collected an insane amount of likes. There were casual mirror selfies with her messy hair and her classic lazy smirk, candid shots from rugby games where she looked powerful and locked-in, vacation pictures where she was just in a sports bra and swim trunks by the ocean, tanned and absurdly muscular and glistening from the water. It was infuriating how effortlessly cool she was.

You felt like you were sweating just looking at the screen.

Jinx scrolled down further. "Damn, she’s really fine."

"Shut up," You muttered, but you couldn’t look away.

Then, it happened.

Jinx stopped on a post from over a year ago—an ab picture from 2023, taken in what was clearly a gym mirror. Sevika’s face wasn’t even in it, just her ridiculously sculpted abs, with the caption:

‘Lost my shirt, found my gains.’

"Oh my God," Jinx whispered dramatically. "Y/N."

"It’s not that serious," You said quickly, even though your face was burning.

"It’s that serious," Jinx insisted. "Are you seeing this? Like, actually seeing this? She’s insane."

You reached out, grabbing Jinx’s phone to try and scroll past it, but in your panic, your thumb betrayed you.

Double tap.

The little red heart appeared under the post.

You froze.

Jinx froze.

A few seconds of complete, horrific silence passed before—

"NO," You gasped, shoving the phone at Jinx as if that would somehow undo it. "NO, NO, NO."

Jinx threw herself onto the bed, screaming into a pillow. "YOU JUST LIKED A THIRST TRAP FROM A YEAR AGO. SHE’S GONNA KNOW YOU WERE STALKING."

You immediately unliked it, but it was too late. Sevika had already gotten the notification.

"Oh my God, I’m actually going to throw myself off this balcony," you whispered, hands gripping your head.

Jinx was cackling now, rolling on the bed. "This is the best thing that’s ever happened. I hope she texts you. I hope she makes fun of you forever."

You were about to respond with a snarky remark when your phone lit up.

A new text.

Sevika (hot roommate): Did you just like my abs from last year?

You stared at the screen in pure terror.

Then, another message.

Sevika (hot roommate): Should I post a new one for you?

You screamed. Jinx screamed with you, both of you smacking each other in panic.

"WHAT DO I SAY?" you shrieked.

Jinx grabbed the phone. "I don’t know, but you cannot act normal. You need to gaslight your way out of this."

Then, before you could stop her, Jinx typed:

You: Uhhh that wasn’t me. Must’ve been a ghost.

"Jinx."

"It’s fine, it’s fine," Jinx said, breathless from laughing. "She won’t believe it, but she’ll think it’s funny."

Sevika didn’t take long to reply.

Sevika (hot roommate): Damn, you got ghosts with good taste.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands again.

Then, another message popped up.

A picture.

Sevika had just taken a new mirror selfie at the gym. She was in a sports bra, sweat glistening on her abs, her hand tugging her waistband down just slightly to show off the deep V-line that was criminally attractive.

Sevika (hot roommate): Here, since the ghost liked the last one.

You dropped the phone like it had burned your hands.

Jinx took one look at the screen and absolutely lost it. She was rolling on the bed, her laughter muffled in the blankets, kicking her feet in the air. "OH MY GOD. SHE SENT YOU A THIRST TRAP. SHE KNOWS. SHE KNOWS YOU THINK SHE’S HOT."

You were speechless. Your brain had completely short-circuited.

"Y/N. RESPOND," Jinx wheezed.

"I CAN’T."

Jinx snatched the phone. "Okay, okay, let’s be smooth about this."

She typed:

You: You’re so annoying.

Sevika’s response was immediate.

Sevika (hot roommate): But you’re still looking, aren’t you?

You let out a strangled noise, your face a violent shade of red. Jinx was screaming into a pillow again. Seeing after break was going to be absolute hell.

—————————————————————————

…hi are you guys still here… I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO UPDATE😭 fun fact i am an absolute academic weapon so i was locked in on finishing the semester but now that i’m done, updates should be more regular! i’m so sorry i abandoned you guys like that oops.

i hope you loved the chapter! as always, i am open to questions and requests. i’ll actually be able to post and answer them regularly now!

love you! -blue🦋

tag list: @vahnilla @elliesngirl @naniiiii12 @liztreez @eriiwaiii2 @elliesgffrfr @nymanas @yashirawr @leeidk87 @imvioletscupcake @caffeine-pup @too-x @vxtanne31 @pipirka827363829 @sleepycrybbylaiah @rosebg @sevikasrightboob @deliciouslydeviantsatan @nerdyjeansblog @mewl3tte @blanladelulu @violetsforroses98 @peskylez @barelykiramman @pramspams

#author #rugby sevika supremacy #sevika x fem reader #sevika please #sevika fluff #sevika x you #sevika x y/n #sevika i love you #sevika x reader #sevika arcane #sevika #arcane #guys i need sevika #wlw author #wlw blog

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universefcb · 3 months ago

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A BIRTHDAY WITH LANDO, LANDO NORRIS.

→ Summary: It's your birthday and he has a surprise plan for you.

→ Warning: Mention of Reader. Fluff. Romance.

→ Author's note: This picture of him is so...🫦

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

Waking up on your birthday used to be a common occurrence. A notification or two on social media, a call from your mother, maybe a quick message from a distant friend. But that day started differently. Even before the first rays of sunlight had penetrated the bedroom curtains, your phone vibrated with an unusual notification: a calendar reminder created by someone else.

Today: The most important birthday in the universe. Get ready for the best day of your life. Love, Lando.

She smiled to herself, still half asleep. She didn't even have time to reply to the message because, in the next second, the doorbell rang.

Dragging herself to the door with one of his hoodies slung over her shoulders, she slowly opened it. On the other side, Lando was smiling, hair messy, a kraft paper bag in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

“Happy birthday, my favorite person,” he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to show up here before seven in the morning. “Coffee from your favorite coffee shop and chocolate croissants. I’m outdoing myself, huh?”

She let out a low laugh and pulled him inside by the hand.

“Did you hack my calendar?”

“I broke in. I really hacked. And this is just the beginning.”

They spent the morning together, taking lazy bites of breakfast and making out softly on the couch. He insisted that she couldn’t make plans for the rest of the day—“You just have to trust me,” he’d say with a mischievous smile. And she did.

Around 10am, Lando handed her a small backpack and told her to wear something comfortable.

“Not a spoiler?” she asked, curious.

“Not one. But I guarantee there’s sunshine, blue skies and something you’ll remember forever.”

The car took them out of town. Along the way, he put on her favorite playlist, sang off-key on purpose, and made up absurd versions of the lyrics just to make her laugh.

Finally, the vehicle stopped in front of a large field full of sunflowers, with a picnic table set up in the center. A wicker basket, two light-colored wooden chairs, and a small radio playing Taylor Swift's Lover in the background. She put her hand to her mouth in excitement.

"Like you...?"

“I listen when you talk, you know?” he replied, leaning his forehead against hers. “You once said that you always dreamed of a picnic in a field of sunflowers, but never had the chance.”

With tears in her eyes, she threw herself into his arms. Lando held on tightly, as if he knew that gesture was worth more than any words.

They spent hours there, laughing, eating strawberries and cheese, telling stories and taking pictures with an analog camera he had hidden. Every detail seemed carefully planned: the smell of the flowers, the taste of the food, even the position of the sun when he suggested they take a break to lie down on the grass.

“Do you want to know my real gift?” he asked, his eyes fixed on the sky. “Because what you’ve seen so far has just been the warm-up.”

She raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“Is there more?”

“Yes. But you need to trust me again.”

The way back was quicker. He led her blindfolded to the top floor of his own apartment. When he removed the blindfold, she found herself in a transformed room: soft lights, dozens of photos of them hanging with little clothespins, white rose petals scattered on the floor, and a dining table set for two.

But what caught his attention was the small screen at the back of the room. Lando had set up a mini movie theater at home.

“And now... the special session: Our best moments.”

It was a compilation of videos he had filmed himself over the months—some she hadn’t even known he had recorded. Little moments, smiles exchanged in silence, her dancing in her pajamas in the kitchen, the two of them laughing until they fell into bed.

When the video ended, Lando was silent for a while, just holding her hand.

“I thought a lot about what to give you as a gift. And nothing seemed good enough... until I realized that the best thing I can give you is my time, my attention, and every version of me. Because if you want me to, I want to be here for all your birthdays. Every single one.”

She didn't respond with words—she didn't need to. The kiss that followed said everything she felt: gratitude, love, and the certainty that this was the best birthday of her life.

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @htpssgavi @merinottt @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

#universefcb #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x oc #lando norris x oscar piastri

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oreo-creampies · 4 months ago

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𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮, 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮/ 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫 & 𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: vibrator, fingering you in the car, cock sucking, public/caught (kind of), light begging, jerking off, small hints of handjob, light dacryphilia, overstimulation, satoru records you sucking suguru’s dick, praise & degradation, calling toji daddy, hints of embarrassment/humiliation

You’re leaning over, with your ass partly in the air. Your legs angled to dangle off the back car seat, with your panties around your ankles. Bobbing your head, gliding Suguru’s thick, veiny cock along your tongue. Keeping your throat relaxed, taking him deep with every other bob.

Slick sounds come from the front passenger seat. Satoru glides his thick fist down his long, veiny cock. Holding his phone up, angling it to record the sloppy, eager head you’re giving Suguru.

He pans over to your drenched, stuffed cunt. “Her beautiful cunt is so damn loud. Both lips look so pretty.” Satoru's breathy groans mixed with Suguru’s rough groans, getting you off. Shifting his phone's front camera back to your face.

Toji grumbles, “One of you fuckers is driving on the way back and I get to ride with our horny pretty mama. Her beautiful body in that damn dress is making my cock fuckin' ache." You gag around Suguru, and fresh tears roll down your cheeks.

Spit covers your chin. Fondling his balls, too big for your hand, hanging off the sides of your palm. You groan around his cock when Suguru strokes your sweet spot, Your cunt clenching his thick fingers filling up, stretching out your soaking wet, tight cunt.

You couldn’t enough of the three of them. Their brawny arms, chiseled abs, thick thighs, large cocks, and heavy balls full of cum. You've been hornier than ever.

Satoru lets out a loud groan, this cock throbs, thick cum spilling onto his fingers. "Nnng fuck!" Giving his sensitive cock a few more strokes until it's too much. Lifting his hand up, staring at his creamy white cum.

"Sweetheart should lick my cum off my hand." Groaning around Suguru's cock, deep-throating him, he holds your head down. Thick, warm cum spurting from his cock.

You gag hard around Suguru, your body tensing up, your soaking wet cunt clenching. "I'm almost done with her mouth. Fuck right there, her mouth feels so hot, and her hands are so soft on my balls." Suguru pumps his fingers faster, curling them at just the right time.

Your eyes roll back, tears streaming down your cheeks. Suguru lifts you off his cock by your hair, messing it up partly. He croons, "That's it, good girl." He kisses your forehead, slipping his fingers out. Holding them in front of you for you to clean yourself.

"You gonna be a good cum slut and suck my fingers clean too?" Suguru's fingers leave your mouth with a soft pop. Moving towards the front, leaning over grabbing his sensitive cock, lifting it up. Wrapping your lips around Satoru, taking all of his softening cock into your mouth.

You slowly glid Satoru's cock out of your mouth with a loud groan. Reaching over, rubbing Toji's hard cock through his baggy sweats. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Suguru slaps your ass. Nudging your tight, soaking wet cunt with a small vibrator.

Suguru offers, "Toji how about this, I'll let you use the remote for the vibrator I brought. You can decide if she cums or not." Pushing the toy deep in your cunt. Your sensitive cunt clenches when he brushes your g-spot.

Suguru uses the hand sensitizer attached to your mini backpack. He passes the remote to Toji as the car slows. "We've been spoilin' our pretty slut a bit too much. She should beg to cum." You move from cleaning Satoru's cock to his sucking on his long, thick fingers.

The car turns into the parking lot. Its tinted windows are too dark for anyone to see in. Giving you a moment to straighten yourself out before going into the restaurant.

Satoru points out. "She'd have to keep her voice low, so no one finds how much of a pervert she is. Dinner with some entertainment." He slips his fingers out of your mouth, cleaning the spit off with a tissue.

He grins, putting up his cock. "How ya balls feel?" You moan when the vibrator flicks on. Its overwhelming vibrations make your toes curl. Whing when Toji switches the setting, making it pulse every few seconds.

It's winding you up enough to keep you bothered without ever letting you cum. You break instantly, whining, "Please Daddy let me cum again! I'll jerk you off under the table. Gonna make sure you cum too. Please." Satoru grabs another tissue and gently grabs your face, carefully cleaning up your tears.

"Love what a nasty pervert you are for us mama. Keep that up and I'll give ya whatever you want." The pulses steady out into a continuous strong hum. Your cunt is still so sensitive from cumming on Suguru's fingers. The pleasure is perfectly overwhelming.

You bite into your bottom lip. Satoru croons, "So beautiful, seeing your tears makes me want to fuck you in the backseat till your sobbing." He kisses both your cheeks, then your lips. "But I want to see you struggle with how hard you're cumming even more." Suguru fixes your hair, adjusting your clothes the best he can.

Toji orders, "Fix your underwear and get out, Daddy wants his cock jerked off n' some food." Satoru and Suguru pull away, getting out of the car. Along with Toji, leaving you to struggle to pull your panties up. Soaking them more with your drooling cunt.

Your legs are shaky, your knees threatening to buckle. You grab onto Satoru, and he croons, "Aw our poor darling is struggling to walk already. Don't worry I'll help you, want me to order your favorite for you too. So you don't accidentally moan talking to the server." You focus on keeping quiet and walking. Toji slaps your ass, making you stumble.

Toji states, "She shoulder order, she's a big girl, she can handle it like how she handles us." Satoru steadies you and Suguru urges,

"Tell us how your beautiful, sloppy, tight cunt feels darling. " Toji turns up the intensity of the vibrations when you try to speak. Forcing you to cover your mouth, stifling your groan.

Toji insists, "Answer him mama, be a good girl of us." Satoru slips his arm out of your grasp to wrap around your waist. "Hurry for we reach the entrance or you're not cumming till we get our food." You're too close for him to stop now.

You whimper, "It's too good!" it's not enough, Toji urges,

"Keep going." Glancing down, admiring his large bulge Toji isn't bother to hide. His sweats would make it easy to jerk his cock off under the table when you got inside.

"I'm a dirty pervert who wants to keep cumming. Want the three of you to keep playing with my pussy." Your cheeks burn with embarrassment when you gain the look of a passing onlooker.

The older man's gaze lingers until Toji grunts, "Problem?" The man walks faster, casting his eyes down. Satoru tucks you into his side. Wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

You mutter, "Oh fuck." Bitting into your bottom lip, humiliation flashing through you doesn't stop the toy’s vibrations from forcing your sensitive cunt to cum. Your slick dripping down your thighs. Wrinkling up Satoru's shirt in your tight grasp.

Satoru points out. "A second later and he would have seen the pretty look on your face when your cumming." Suguru opens the restaurant's door for you, to walk in with Satoru's hand on your lower back.

The moment Satoru crosses the threshold behind you, you attach to his hip again. Your thoughts vanish, leaving your head empty. The overwhelming stimulation persistent stimulation in your sloppy cunt consuming you.

Toji turns up the vibrations once more, a moan slips out, and your legs give. If not for Satoru your knees would hit the restaurant's entrance.

Oreo’s m.list

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formulafanfics13 · 17 hours ago

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Little Wolff in the Paddock

Masterlist

Summary: The paddock is louder than she expected. Bigger too. But six-year-old Emilia Wolff is holding onto her mother’s hand and wearing her team pass with pride, ready to conquer her first-ever Formula 1 weekend. the rest of the grid? They’re not ready for her. Warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff, Toto and Susie being adorable parents, Lewis and George are honorary uncles, every driver falling in love with Emilia, a few jokes that go over her head, paddock chaos, protective Toto energy

Her paddock pass is laminated and sparkly. Her little white sneakers are brand new. And her Mercedes cap is almost too big, sitting low over her forehead so it brushes her lashes when she blinks. But Emilia Wolff is ready.

“I packed my notebook,” she tells Susie proudly, skipping beside her mother as they head toward the motorhome entrance. “And my coloured pens. And a banana.”

Susie smiles. “Perfect strategy.”

“Uncle Lewis said I should write down everything I learn. So I brought my special gold pen for important facts.”

Toto, walking beside them with a backpack slung over one shoulder and coffee in hand, chuckles. “Only gold for race-winning notes, right?”

Emilia beams. “Only gold for podiums, Daddy.”

She’s already met Lewis and George. Lewis picked her up in the hotel lobby yesterday and spun her around like a prince, told her she smelled like strawberries and power. George let her sit in his rental car and beep the horn until Toto took the keys away.

But today is different. Today is the paddock. Today she meets the others.

She holds Susie’s hand the whole time. Keeps glancing around like she’s expecting dragons and trapdoors. At one point she gasps and whispers, “That man has green hair,” and Susie gently steers her away from the VCARB hospitality unit.

Her first encounter is Carlos Sainz. He nearly trips over her.

“Oh! Lo siento-” he stops mid-step, crouches instantly. “Who do we have here?”

Emilia blinks up at him. “I’m Emilia. My daddy is Toto.”

Carlos gasps dramatically. “The big boss?”

She nods. “He does the serious voice.”

Carlos laughs. “He does. It scares me sometimes.”

“He scares George too,” she whispers, and Carlos laughs even harder.

Next is Charles, who gives her a flower from the Ferrari catering table and says she can be their good luck charm.

Then comes Lando, who teaches her a handshake he definitely just made up and insists she try a papaya for the first time.

Oscar waves from a distance, a little too afraid to approach without permission. “Can I say hi?” he mouths to Toto.

Toto shrugs. “She’s in charge.”

When she sees Alex, she gasps and says, “You have the same name as my iPad.”

He bursts out laughing and crouches. “That is such an honour.”

Then he lets her touch his hair. “It’s so soft!”

Toto watches from the sidelines, arms crossed but smiling. “I told you it wasn’t a wig,” he calls.

When she meets Fernando, she’s speechless. He kneels slowly. Offers his hand like he’s greeting a princess. “Emilia,” he says gravely. “It is my honour.”

She curtsies. Toto facepalms.

She’s doing laps by lunchtime. Not on track, but definitely in the paddock. Everyone knows her name now.

Lewis ties a little ribbon around her ponytail and calls her mini goat. George lets her press the buttons on his headset. Fred Vasseur tries to bribe her with chocolate to say Mercedes is her second favourite team.

She frowns. “My daddy’s team is the best.”

Christian Horner makes the mistake of calling her “little Toto.”

Emilia stares him down. “I’m not little. I’m exact.”

Christian walks away with his pride wounded and a juice box mysteriously missing from the Red Bull fridge.

By mid-afternoon, she’s curled in Susie’s lap in the motorhome, banana half-eaten, notebook full of scribbles.

On one page she’s drawn the paddock, a big square with cars, people, and a giant heart over the Mercedes garage.

On the other, in shaky gold pen, it says: I LOVE RACING AND BANANAS AND NOT SCARED OF MAX.

Toto snorts when he sees it. “She’s ready,” he tells Susie softly.

“For what?” Susie asks, brushing her daughter’s hair back.

“For world domination,” he says.

#f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 grid x reader

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woollypoison · 7 months ago

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One way ticket: part 1

Itzy Yeji x m reader This is the first part of a mini-series I'm trying out to get me back into writing by myself. This part is all fluff, no smut here yet. Later parts will have smut, so stick around for that? Word count: 2,344

The faint mumblings of the station’s announcement system were humming in the background. The air was cool and carried the metallic tang of distant rain. The kind of atmosphere that makes you think about the bittersweet moments in life. You tightened your grip on the handle of your suitcase, plastic handle digging into your palm as you checked the train schedule for the third time that evening. Despite what your anxiety was telling you, you weren't running late. In fact, you had arrived an hour earlier than you needed to—anxious, restless, and uncertain about the journey ahead. The train would be here any minute now.

The one-way ticket in your pocket felt heavier than its weight in paper should have allowed. The destination printed on it was one you had hoped never to return to: the town where everything had started—and where you had left everything behind. But here you were, standing on this station platform, waiting for the train that would take you back.

The overhead speakers crackled to life, announcing the imminent arrival of your train.You adjusted the strap of your backpack, your heart beating faster with every passing second. The platform wasn’t crowded, but there were enough people milling about to make you feel uneasy. Couples whispered to each other, families struggled with their luggage, and a few solo travelers stared blankly at their phones.

That’s when you saw her.

At first, it was just a fleeting sense of familiarity, a trick of the mind in a sea of strangers. This wasn’t your hometown, she wouldn’t be here. But then she turned her head, and your chest tightened as recognition hit you like a freight train. Yeji.

She was leaning against one of the station’s old iron pillars. Her hair was loose, flowing down her shoulders in soft waves, and she wore a grey sweater over a simple white shirt and black jeans. She looked… as pretty as when you left. Like a memory brought to life, sharper and more vivid than you could ever remember.

For a moment, you thought about turning away, pretending this couldn’t be real. But then her eyes met yours, and there was no escaping it anymore. Her expression froze, her lips parting slightly as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. You felt the same.

She recovered faster than you did, her posture straightening as she began walking toward you. Your feet, however, seemed rooted to the spot.

She only voices a single word, but it's the way she says your name that cuts through any illusions you had of avoiding your past. It was a sound you hadn’t heard in years, yet it struck a chord deep within you.

You cleared your throat, trying to mask the chaos inside. "Yeji. Hi."

Her pace slowed as she came to a stop a few feet away. Up close, you could see the subtle changes time had made to her face. She looked… more mature, more assured. The playful energy she used to radiate was still hiding in there, but it was controlled now, grounded in a way that made her seem even more beautiful.

"I can’t believe it’s you," she said, her tone equal parts surprise and apprehension.

You managed a forced smile. "Yeah. Me neither."

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken words and memories that neither of you seemed ready to confront. Yeji was the first to break the tension.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her head tilting slightly as she studied you. Her voice was softer now, almost hesitant.

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. How much you had the right to reveal. "I… I’m heading back to town. For a while."

Her brows knitted together in a faint frown, shock ever present on her face. as if those were the last words she expected you to say. "Back to town? Why?"

"My aunt," you said, the words feeling heavy in your mouth. "She passed away. I’m handling the arrangements and everything."

Her expression softened, and she looked down briefly before meeting your gaze again. "I’m sorry. She was always so kind to me."

"Yeah," you said, your throat tightening. "She was."

Another silence stretched between you, and you couldn’t tell if it was more awkward or painful. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, glancing toward the train that had come to a stop behind you.

"Are you taking this one?" she asked, nodding toward the train.

"Yeah," you replied, confirming your destination. "Last one heading that way tonight."

"Same.”

You weren’t supposed to be surprised at this. For all you knew, she still lived where you left her. You couldn’t help but be shocked nonetheless. You were about to spend the next several hours on the same train. Together. Your stomach churned at the thought. This wasn’t how you’d imagined seeing her again, if you ever saw her again at all.

She glanced down at her ticket, then back at you. "Well… I guess we’d better get on."

You nodded, though your feet felt like they were moving on autopilot as you followed her toward the train.

The compartment you entered was relatively empty, its rows of seats illuminated by the harsh overhead lights. Yeji walked down the aisle and chose a seat by the window, setting her bag on the floor beside her. You hesitated, not sure if it was alright, before sitting down in the seat across from hers. It felt like the most natural thing to do, and yet, your heart was pounding as if you’d just committed a crime.

The train gave a low groan as it began to pull out of the station, the rhythm of the wheels on the tracks quickly settling into a steady cadence. It was the one thing keeping you calm. You stared out the window, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts you couldn’t untangle.

Yeji broke the silence again. "So… how have you been?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Uh… I’ve been okay. Busy, I guess. Work, life. You know how it is."

She raised an eyebrow. "Do I?"

Ouch. She had all the right to call you out. You winced at her response. "Right. Sorry. That was…"

"Generic?" she interrupted, her lips curving into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. It was performative. She wasn’t going to take any of your standoffish bullshit.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair halfheartedly. "Yeah. Generic."

She nodded, her gaze drifting toward the window, clearly disappointed. For a while, you sat in silence, the sound of the train’s wheels filling the void again. You couldn’t help but glance at her, noticing the way her fingers tapped lightly against her knee, a habit you remembered all too well. She was nervous, too. Uneasy, even.

"I… I didn’t expect to see you," you admitted, taking your responsibility to break the silence this time.

She turned back to you, her expression distant. Her guard was up. "Neither did I."

The weight of her gaze made it hard to breathe, and for a moment, you couldn’t help but think about all the things you wanted to say. But the words wouldn’t come. You wouldn’t allow them to come. You had no right. Instead, you looked away, focusing on the blur of the dark countryside outside the window.

She sat across from you, leaning slightly against the window, her chin resting on her hand as her gaze followed the passing darkness outside. The faint glow from the overhead light illuminated her features—the soft curve of her cheek, the sharp line of her jaw. She was both familiar and unfamiliar, a memory brought vividly back to life.

“So,” she continued, not letting another silence fill the void between you. “How long are you staying?”

You hesitated. You didn’t have the answer to that question. “I’m not sure. However long it takes to handle everything with my aunt’s estate.”

She nodded but didn’t look at you. Her fingers played idly with the strap of her bag, another one of her habits you remembered all too well. It struck you how surreal this was—sharing a train compartment with her after all these years. You were two people carrying the weight of a shared past, both of you struggling with how to unpack it.

“And after that?” she asked. “Are you planning to stay?”

You shook your head with uncertainty. “No. I… I don’t think so.”

Her eyes drifted downwards slowly as her tensed shoulders slumped ever so slightly. She turned to face you, her brows furrowing slightly. “So it’s temporary.”

“Yeah.”

Yeji studied you for a moment, her dark cat-like eyes sharp and assessing. It was unnerving how easily she could see through you, even now. She didn’t say anything, just nodded and went back to looking out the window. You could feel the distance between you two grow, as real and unyielding as the space separating your seats.

After a while she spoke up again. Her tone was casual, almost offhanded. “You’ve changed.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Have I?”

“Yeah. You’re quieter.”

You let out a dry laugh. “Maybe I’ve just run out of things to say.”

She gave you a look—half amused, half skeptical. “That’s hard to imagine. You used to talk my ear off.”

“Things are different now,” you said, shame undermining your volume.

Her expression shifted, and for a moment, she looked like she wanted to say something. But she stayed silent, staring out the window again. The train slowed down as you approached a station, and the sound of the brakes screeching filled the air.

You wanted to ask her about her life, about what she’d been doing all this time, but the questions felt intrusive, like prying open a door to a room you no longer had the right to enter. Still, the curiosity gnawed at you. She was here, sitting across from you, and you couldn’t ignore the pull she had on you.

“What about you?” You asked finally. “How have you been?”

She shrugged at your question, her fingers still toying with the strap of her bag. “I’ve been fine. Busy. Work keeps me on my toes.”

You nodded, unsure how to respond. The conversation felt stilted, like you were two strangers making polite small talk. But you weren’t strangers—never were. There was too much history between you.

“And what about…” you hesitated, unsure if you should even go there. “What about everything else? Family, friends?”

Yeji glanced at you, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Like a sense of reassurance that you still remembered everyone you left. “Everyone’s good. Life goes on, you know?”

“Yeah, it does,” you said, though the words felt hollow. Life did go on, but it had a way of leaving certain things behind—people, memories, opportunities.

The train picked up speed again, the lights outside streaking into a blur. The silence between you stretched out, not quite comfortable but not unbearable either anymore. You could feel her presence like a magnet, drawing you in despite the invisible wall she’d built around herself. You wanted to break through it, to reach her, but you didn’t know how.

“So, you’re back for your aunt,” she said, her voice cutting through your thoughts. “That must be hard.”

“It is,” you admitted. “She was… she was always there for me. One of the few people I could count on.”

Yeji’s expression softened, and she nodded. “She was a good woman. She always made me feel welcome, even when…” She trailed off, her gaze dropping to her hands. “Even when things weren’t so great between us.”

You swallowed hard, the guilt washing over you. Your aunt had adored Yeji, treated her like family. She was devastated when you left, upset you’d leave this life behind for stupid reasons, but she never stopped sending letters for birthdays. Trying to maintain contact.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice crumbling. “She had a way of making people feel that way. She cared, you know? A lot."

Yeji didn’t respond, but you could see the emotions playing across her face—nostalgia, sadness, maybe even a hint of anger. You wanted to say something to make it better, to bridge the gap between the two of you, but you didn’t know where to start.

The train entered another tunnel, and the lights in the compartment flickered slightly. In the brief darkness, you could feel the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on you. You wanted to reach out, but you held back. You didn’t think you had the right—not after everything you’d done.

When the lights stabilized again, Yeji was looking at you, her expression wavering. Her voice grew quiet, almost pleading. “Do you ever think about it?”

“About what?”

“About what could have been. If things had gone differently. If you hadn’t left.”

The elephant in the room. You never gave her any explanation before, and you struggled to find the right response now. Did you think about it? Every damn day. But saying that out loud felt too raw, too vulnerable.

“Yeah,” you said finally. Maybe it was time to be vulnerable. After removing yourself from her life without being able to forget her, that was the least you owed her. “I think about it.”

She nodded , her gaze dropping to her lap in understanding. “Me too.”

The confession hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. For a moment, it felt like the years of distance and silence had melted away, leaving only the two of you and the fragile connection you’d once shared. But the moment passed, and the wall between you was back. There was nothing you could say.

The train rumbled on, carrying you closer to a destination you weren't sure you were ready to face. But for the first time in years, you felt a flicker of hope—fragile and tentative, but real. And you knew that no matter what happened, you couldn’t let this chance slip away. Not again.

#kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #m reader #male reader #kpop smut #smut #yeji smut #itzy smut

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multifandomgirl08 · 5 months ago

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Hey, Little Sister [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Mother!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: "You wanted this Max. You wanted her."

Warning(s): Christian Horner, Giving birth complications (Not from the Reader's POV)

A/N: Gender reveal idea taken from TikTok. The birthing complications mentions in the chapter is taken from a story that I read on Reddit. You'll notice that I told it from Max's POV as to not make it graphic but what the reader goes through in this chapter is very serious and still shouldn't be taken lightly.

Words: 9.9k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

March 27, 2028

It had been a relatively normal Tuesday morning so far, waking up early to feed the kids and then get ready to head into the office today. Y/N had been in the bathroom when a sudden wave of dizziness caused her to grip the sink before covering her mouth with her hand, and ran to empty her stomach into the toilet.

As she kept throwing up her morning coffee she heard footsteps coming from behind her, slowly pulling her hair away from her face, and the feeling of Max’s hand running over her back letting herself slump forward a little more. He stayed with her until she pulled herself away from the toilet, and moved back to the sink to brush her teeth.

“You should stay home.” Max was quick to say.

“I can’t stay home Max, we are having an investor meeting today and I have to be there.” As one of the top earners at the hedge fund that she worked at she couldn’t not show up for today’s meeting. “I’ll drop Nico off at school and go in, after the meeting ends, I’ll come straight home.”

This wasn’t the first time that she had been sick in the last two months, she had gotten a mild cold right before their anniversary and had been on antibiotics until she had finished off the 10 day prescription.

“Okay, but straight home after you pick up Nico?” He said, almost like he wanted to scold her for even thinking about spending time in the office around other people when she normally worked from home and was only around her co-works once a week unless something important happened.

“Yes, Max. I’ll even call my doctor and schedule something. Okay?” She asked.

Max gave her a nod and kissed her forehead. “You throw up again, I want you to come straight home.” He said. She nodded before moving to put on her makeup for the day, got dressed into a burgundy red blouse, black knee length pencil skirt and 3 inch heels and then made sure that Nico was ready to go.

Y/N and Nico got into her car, and as she was driving him to school she noticed that she didn’t feel nearly as nauseous as when she had woken up that morning.

“Bye Mama.” Nico said, sliding out of his seat with his backpack in his hands.

“Love you Neeks, I’ll pick you up at the end of the day.” Nico gave her a small wave and then closed the door. She waited until she saw him walk inside of the school building and then drove off to work.

The drive to the office that she worked at took another 20 minutes from Nico’s private school. She had pulled into the underground parking and found her normal spot where a plaque read; Specter Bouchaund Capital Employee Parking.

She had stopped her Bentley on the far right next to a few McLaren’s and Ferrari’s that some of her co-workers drove. She pulled her purse and laptop bag with her, locking the car and then took the elevator up to the 20th floor.

She had walked out of the elevator and into the large open concept office. There was a long black reception desk separated by a glass wall with the words Specter Bouchaund Capital in frosted lettering.

Y/N waved at the receptionist who was stationed at the front desk and got a small wave back before a younger woman came up to Y/N with a coffee cup and a small stack of white papers.

“Morning Y/N.” Monique; her assistant had said, giving her the cup. “You already have a few calls this morning. I moved them around so they wouldn't interfere with the meeting.”

“Thank you. Would you also be able to make an appointment with my doctor? I’m not feeling the best and I’m not sure what’s going on.”

“Your OB or your primary?”

Y/N had never considered that her being sick this morning could mean that she was pregnant. She never had morning sickness with any of the boys.

“Let’s start with the OB, if it’s nothing I can call my primary.”

Monique gave her a nod and they walked to the far left side of the floor to Y/N’s office.

Y/N’s name on the door read;

Y/N Verstappen Junior Portfolio Manager

Y/N sat down her cup and moved her laptop from her bag onto the glass top desk. It was mostly bare aside from a few picture frames, one was of Max with the boys, Nico and Niki on each side of Max and Nik sitting on Max’s lap. The one next to it was one of her and Max at their wedding with Nico standing in front of them.

There was a knock on her office door. Y/N looked up to Monique standing there, “The shareholder meeting is starting in 10 minutes. If you’re not early-”

Monique didn’t need to finish her sentence. She already knew what she was going to say. “Steven is going to yell that time is money.”

Steven was Y/N’s boss, a Portfolio Manager and her direct superior. He had been in the business for over 20 years and had more money to his name than her and Max combined. It was easy to say that he was good at his job.

Monique gave her a nod. Y/N collected her phone and laptop. She was sure that someone in that meeting was going to ask about market projections for the coming quarter.

The meeting felt like it took forever. Market projections for the next quarter were asked about as well as a new investor who wanted to start working with the company. It lasted a full hour and then she was back in her office looking over something for a client who wanted to put money into a company based in Beijing. She didn’t think it was a smart investment, too much risk for what he wanted and not enough of a reward in the long run.

There was a knock on her office door. She looked up to Monique walking through the door, “So I was able to schedule you for an appointment with your OB today at 1, if that doesn’t work I can call back and see if they have something in the next few weeks.”

Y/N was quick to open the calendar on her phone, she didn’t have a lunch meeting with anyone today.

“Yeah that should work out. Nico gets out at 4 so it’ll give me plenty of time to come back here before I have to pick him up.”

“Okay, I’ll call them back and let them know,” Monique said with a quick nod.

The rest of her morning went by rather slowly, instead of finishing the cup of coffee that had grown cold after her meeting, she had Monique make her a cup of tea and put in some honey hoping to settle her stomach before her appointment.

She had grabbed her bag and was out of the office by 12:20, her usual OBGYN was in Monte Carlo. She had parked her car with the valet, handed over her keys and made her way up to Dr. Casse office. Dr. Casse was the OB that she had while she was in Monaco, she had another OBGYN when she was back in Belgium who got recommended to her by Dr. Casse.

She walked into Dr. Casse’s office and greeted the receptionist, signing in and then took a seat in the waiting room. She saw a few other people scattered around in chairs around the room, before hearing a chipper voice call, “Y/N Verstappen?”

She stood up, and followed the nurse in the pink scrubs back into one of the exam rooms. She left her to change out of her clothes and into the thin sheet that made up the gown. She couldn’t help but curl her toes in against the cold tile flooring of the exam room.

The room was a little cold as she sat back on the exam table. “Y/N?” Dr. Casse said.

“Yes,” she answered.

“It’s been a while since you’ve been in my office. How are the boys?”

“Doing well, Nikita’s finally learning that he can out run Max if he tries hard enough.”

“Ah yeah, he must be getting so big.”

“He looks more and more like Max every day.”

“I bet.” The doctor moved to sit back in the chair by the window with Y/N’s file in her hands. “So, not here for a check up, I assume.”

“I’m not really sure. I threw up this morning, and felt a little dizzy beforehand.”

“Have you been taking your birth control? We wouldn’t want what happened with Nikita to happen again.”

She had still been on birth control when she found out that she was pregnant with Nikita. It had also been the first time that she had been in Dr. Casse’s office. Dr. Casse had immediately taken her off the birth control, put her on prenatal supplements, and then had her schedule another appointment for the following week after the ultrasound. Niki looked healthy for 6 weeks along. It was starting to really dawn on her that she could be pregnant again.

“I was, but I was sick at the end of January.”

“Did they have you on medication?” The doctor asked checking her file.

“Yeah, a 10 day prescription.”

“There is a chance that it threw off your birth control. We’ll do an ultrasound and then if nothing comes up we’ll run a blood test after.” The folder was placed down by the sink in the room.

Y/N nodded back at the doctor before the ultrasound machine was rolled over towards her. Cold gel was placed on her abdomen and then Dr. Casse pressed the wand into her skin going to look for the signs of a baby growing in her belly for the third time.

It took a few moments before something showed up on the screen and the sound of a fast watch like tick came from the machine.

“And there it is...” Dr. Casse said. “The fetus looks healthy, and based on this I would say that you're around 8 weeks along. Making you due late November. If we’re lucky the next time that you're in here we can find out the gender.”

All she could do was look at the screen and count back the weeks. Her and Max had conceived a child on their anniversary. There was another child that she and Max had created, together. They hadn’t been trying for another baby, her and Max had talked about waiting the suggested 16 months this time around after Nik was born, but they still wanted the kids to be close in age. She never thought she would get pregnant this fast, again.

Y/N had thanked the doctor, and she had left to get her the sonogram pictures so she could share them with Max. Y/N was given a towel to wipe off the gel and was given a couple minutes to put her work clothes back on. She sat in the chair that Dr. Casse had occupied a few minutes ago, taking in a few deep breaths. This isn’t what I was expecting, she thought. It wasn’t that she was unhappy with the news… It’s just a lot right now. She forced her eyes open a little, took another deep breath before walking out of the exam room. She had been handed the small stack of photos and then made another appointment for 4 weeks later.

From there she walked back to the parking lot and sat in her car for a few moments just taking it in. Her hand somehow had dropped to her abdomen and she wanted to call Max right away and tell him the news. It was hard going back to work after that. Sitting in her office, being on the phone with a few of the traders that worked in the building with her. 4 o’clock couldn’t come fast enough before she was out of her office and into her car to pick up Nico from school.

She had pulled up to the school when she saw Nico leave the building his classroom was in. His backpack moved sloppily with his before he was in the car. “Hi, Mama!” He said slightly out of breath.

“Hey, Neeks. How was school?” Hearing the backseat door close.

Nico went on a rant about his day, talking about what he had learned in his classes and that if he kept doing well the rest of the year, he would be able to take on a second language class next school year. Nico’s teacher, Ms. Sazarrin said that he was ahead of the class and for a child that didn’t grow up speaking any French was taking to it like a fish to water.

“And what did you learn today? Anything that would surprise Uncle Charles?”

“No, not yet. We got to read through a menu in class. Escargot sounds gross.” Nico said with a disgusted look reaching his face.

“Yeah it does. Do you know what Escargot is?” Y/N asked, pulling away from the school.

“Snails. But I didn’t like the sound of Ratatouille when I thought it was made of rats.”

“No, I didn’t think you would. How did you feel when you found out that it’s made of vegetables?”

“Better, rat sounds gross to eat.” She agreed with Nico. Rat didn't sound appetizing. The idea made her start to feel a little queasy, damn the pregnancy hormones.

“I’m working from home tomorrow so if you want to try it, we can.” She said, swallowing down the need to puke.

“Really?” He asked, perking up in his seat.

“Yeah, we can even watch the movie that is named after the dish.”

“But doesn’t Nik need to go to bed early?”

“Not too early, I’ll make dinner a little early so we can stay up to watch it. And then when it’s over Papa and I will put Niki and Nik to bed.” She was happy that the younger kids were sleeping through the night. Sylvie would already have gone home by then so she and Max could spend some time with Nico before he needed to go to bed.

“You promise?” He asked hopefully.

“I promise.” She reached for her phone when they were at a stop light and put in a note in her reminders app to go get vegetables for tomorrow.

They eventually pulled up to the house, Nico moving out of the backseat with his backpack in his hand while she left her laptop bag in the car, instead taking her purse and digging out her keys so they could get into the house. There was sound coming from the living room with the TV on, the sound of what had to be Dutch cartoons playing in the background.

“Hi Papa!” Nico greeted Max dropping his bag under the console where she had placed her keys. Nik let out an audible scream as she walked closer to where the living room was gated off. She walked closer to the sound and saw Niki standing holding onto Max’s pant leg. He could fully walk by himself but still liked hanging onto Max.

Max reached out and kissed his wife on the cheek and then passed Nik over so he could hug Nico.

“How was school?” Max asked while opening the baby gate.

“Good, Ms. Sazarrin had us read a menu in French during class,” Nico started to explain to Max while Y/N went to sit on the couch and read to the younger boys. She had slipped her heels off and curled her toes in pleasure, the leather of her shoes no longer restricting her toes.

In some ways she couldn’t think about wanting anything more than what she already had, she was happy just being a mom to the boys but she also knew how much Max wanted a daughter. Maybe her being pregnant this time would finally give Max that.

Her eyes went up from the book that she was reading to Nik who found more joy in just turning the pages than her actually reading it when her eyes met Max’s.

“How are you feeling?” He had asked. Nico had run off to the cabinet where his coloring books were.

“Better than this morning, I have some news. Don’t want to tell the kids yet.”

Max looked at her a little concerned.

“It’s nothing bad Max, I promise.”

“Are you sure?” He asked before Nik shoved one of his plastic toys into Max’s face. Max was quick to move his face so he wouldn’t get hit.

“Nik,” She said. “Don’t hurt Papa.”

Nik looked up at her and then over to Max before scooting on the blue area rug away from them and then stuck his hand in the open box of toys.

“I’m fine Max, I’m not dying.” Just pregnant, she thought.

“Which doctor did you go see? The primary or-”There was a small crash, and pieces of Lego scattered on the floor. Nik started picking up the large Lego’s that had fallen all over the floor, getting the fallen Lego’s out from under the couch was going to be annoying.

“My OBGYN, she says everything is fine. She’s putting me on some vitamin supplements, and I can pick them up within the week.”

“Vitamin supplements,” Max said with a small pause. “But the only time you are on those is when-” He cut himself off.

Max took a look at her, a long good look. And then she saw his eyes go a little wide. “But you haven’t had, not with…”

Max sounded just as shocked as she felt right now. She didn’t need to say the word pregnant for him to know that she was. He seemed to know her body well enough to not have to say anything else.

“You can say it Max, morning sickness.”

“What’s morning sickness?” Nico asked as he looked up from his coloring book.

“Mommy wasn’t feeling good this morning.” She answered. "So my tummy was upset."

“Are you sick Mama?”

“No Nico, I’m not sick.”

Neither her or Max say anything else about it until the kids have all gone to bed. Niki and Nik are in their shared room fast asleep and Nico is in his room with Sassy asleep on the other pillow at the edge of his bed with Jimmy lounging in the cat tree in the corner of Nico's room.

Max went into his "office" after they had put Nico to bed. She walks to the next room over from Nico's room to see Max sitting in his sim rig but the computer screen is turned off and his legs are up in his seat. She'll never understand how he can find laying in there comfortable.

She pulls up the rolling desk chair up to him as he's just scrolling on his phone. She slightly peaks over his shoulder to see him looking at a picture of what looks like her sonogram picture from earlier in the day.

"Dr. Casse sent this to my email. Congratulations Max! It said." He leans his head further back to look at her.

She so badly wants to tell him that she thinks that they're having a girl this time. This pregnancy feels different even if she is only eight weeks along.

"Do you think it's a girl?" He slowly asks as if he's afraid she'll say no.

"Yeah Max, I think it is."

He reaches for her and presses a kiss to her forehead. She knows how much Max wants a daughter, and although her body has no say in that, it's a little reassuring to know that her body is giving her signs early on that this may very well be happening.

"Just don't get upset if it isn't." She tells him. She doesn't want to get his hopes up if it turns out to be another boy.

He doesn't say anything to that because they both know it'll be a lie. He moves out of the chair and takes her hand so they can walk out of the room together.

Max helps her out of her pencil skirt by undoing the zipper, the black fabric falls from her body. She moved to pull off the red blouse, and then remembers that she left her shoes by the couch when she came home. Oh well, she can put them back in her closet in the morning. She collects her clothes and puts them in the hamper in her closet and instead of reaching for a pair of sweats she goes to Max's closet and pulls out one of his t-shirts to sleep in.

When she steps out of the closet Max is sitting on the edge of the bed turning his wedding band around his finger. She steps closer to him and then moves her fingers into his hair. He drops his hands and then presses his head into her abdomen.

"I know we used to joke that we couldn't control what gender the baby was but I really want this. I want a little girl that looks like you running around the house, I want to paint a bedroom pink with my own two hands. I want…" He trails off dropping his arms around her thighs, pulling her in closer.

For all the children that they have, to Max; their family wasn't complete without them having a daughter.

"If we're lucky we'll be able to find out if it's a girl by my next appointment." She muttered.

“Which is in?” He pulled away slightly.

“Four weeks, but it could be a little longer.” Max gave her a nod and then pulled her into bed with him.

"I don't care if I have to miss races or something else, I'm going to be there when we find out what we're having." Max promised as he buried his face into her neck. She's going to hold him to it.

June 26, 2028

Today her and Max were going to her 20 week appointment.

The boys would be with Sylvie while her and Max were at the doctor and Max had made reservations for them to go to lunch afterwards, just the two of them. The last time her and Max went to her last appointment the baby wasn’t in the right position to see the gender, Max had been disappointed that he would have to wait a little longer to find out what they were having.

So Max was going to go with her again today to see if they could finally see the gender.

“I can drive.” She offered taking the keys as they walked to Max’s black Audi.

He just pulled them from her fingers and then opened the passenger side door waiting for her to get in. She gave him a smile and then stepped inside of the car.

The drive over to Dr. Casse’s office was quiet, there was the local pop station playing on the radio before pulling up to the building where the doctor’s office was.

Her and Max sat in the car for a few minutes, “We can wait to find out next time.” She said.

Max just shook his head no. “I have something planned for us after. When the doctor asks, we’ll just have them put the results in an envelope. I want to wait until we get home to find out.”

She nodded at Max. He was obviously more nervous about this than she was.

They had gone up to Dr. Casse’s office and waited to be called into the exam room. The nurse called them back into one of the exam rooms and then took Y/N’s blood pressure, and a few other basic tests to make sure that she was healthy.

“She’ll be right in.” The nurse said. “She’s just finishing up with another patient.”

She gave the nurse a nod, and then felt Max reach for her hand after the nurse stepped out of the room. For someone who could handle high pressure situations while he was at work, Y/N could tell how nervous Max was right now.

She gave his hand a firm squeeze back before the petite blonde doctor entered the room looking at both of them.

The doctor ran over a few things, said that her vitals look good and was in the clear for a lot of the risks that could occur in the early stages of being pregnant.

“You're still only in your second trimester but your tests appear normal so as of right now, I have no concerns, just keep to your vitamins, and keep off the caffeine."

Y/N nodded at the doctor and Max’s grip on her hand loosened a little bit.

“Now, ready to see if we can find out the gender today?”

Both her and Max nodded.

Dr. Casse wheeled over the ultrasound machine. “Now have you guys decided how you want to find out? Piece of paper, me just telling you?”

“The paper, we want to be home when we find out.”

The doctor nodded and placed some of the cool gel on the wand. Y/N did her best to not flinch from the cold feeling.

“Everything is looking good in there. I would say that the baby is about the size of a banana right now, and I can see the gender so I’ll write it down for you and put it in an envelope so you can find out when you get home.”

Max’s shoulders seemed to drop a little at the doctor's words.

“Do you want a few updated sonogram pictures?” Both her and Max nodded.

From there the doctor gave Y/N a towel to wipe off the gel and let her get re-dressed.

“Are you still up for food?” Max asked.

“Yeah,” Y/N’s nerves about the baby’s gender hadn’t gone down but Max seemed a little more calm so she knew that she could eat something.

“I made reservations at Miramar Plage, it’s a bit of a drive.”

“It’s perfect Max,” Miramar Plage was where she and Max went on a date the first time that she flew out to Monaco to see him. It was right on the beach and they had a great menu from what she could remember.

“I was thinking about maybe walking into a store or two, pick out something for the baby.” He said as she moved to put her dress and shoes back on. She tried to slide her feet in but couldn’t do up the straps so Max went down on his knees and did them up for her.

“Yeah we can, I can message Renaldo and maybe we can get something from baby Dior. I still need to send Daniel’s wife a gift since we couldn’t go to her baby shower.” Renaldo was the sales associate that worked at the Dior store in Cannes. They normally had a better selection of pieces during the summer months than at the store in Monaco.

“You’ll pick something nice that I’m sure they will love.” Daniel and his wife just had a son a few months ago and they couldn’t come to the baby shower because Niki had gotten a nasty cold that they didn’t want to spread to anyone else.

The doctor handed over the white envelope and let them know that the pictures were also inside.

From there she and Max made the 1 hour drive to Miramar Plage in Cannes. Y/N had messaged Renaldo through WhatsApp and let him know that she would be coming into the store today to look at some baby clothes.

He texted her back with a thumbs up emoji and a see you when you get here.

So she and Max went to lunch, Max had steak and she had eggplant pasta.

“This is the last one?” Max asked her after finishing the last bite of his steak.

She immediately looked down at her growing bump. “Yeah, I think this is that last one.”

Four kids in 8 years was enough.

“Now, why do you want to drag me shopping? You hate shopping.”

Max slightly shook his head. “I hate shopping for me, I like shopping for you.”

She just took a sip of her water. Max always did a good job when it came to shopping for her. All she had to do was look down at her engagement ring for the proof.

“Is that why we’re going to Dior? So you can pick something out for me?” She asked.

Max gave her a shrug and then caught the waiter's attention to ask for the check.

They were back in the car in the next half-an hour. Max had re-parked the car so they could end up walking into the stores along the Bd de la Croisette. They eventually made it into Dior after Max started to complain that his feet were hurting after she had him walk into a few other stores.

She let Max find a seat, and they were immediately offered water and some snakes before Y/N saw Renaldo come out of the back room. She gave the Spaniard sales associate a wave.

“I’ll be back.” she said to Max, noticing that he took the white envelope with the gender results out of her purse and stuffed them into the back pocket of his jeans.

She walked over to the section of the store where they had all of the baby Dior clothes for boys. She saw a pair of toddler size sneakers and a little zip up hoodie that she thought would be perfect for Daniel’s son David.

She wandered around the store for a few more minutes looking at the new limited edition Lady Dior bags that they had before going back to Max with the items that she had picked out for David.

Renaldo had just walked away from where Max had been sitting to see him now at the counter looking at the women’s accessories.

“Find anything?” She said walking up to him.

Max turned to look at her. “Yes, but it’s a surprise when we get home.”

What could Max’s surprise be? They still hadn’t opened the gender results for the baby.

Renaldo came back out of the back room with a white box that had a Dior ribbon around it. What did Max just spend money on? She thought.

“Pink if it’s a girl and blue if it’s a boy.” The sales associate said to them both. He was buying her a bag to find out the gender of the baby.

Max paid for her mystery bag and the clothes for David before they were back in the car on the way home. The 1 hour drive back to the house seemed to go by rather fast. They were pulling up to the driveway and the warm Monaco air seemed to finally hit her when they were walking inside of the house. Max had the bags in his hands.

The house was quiet, the only sound being the low hum of the air conditioner.

They looked into the living room to see toys spread over the large couch and the doors open to the backyard. Nico was running around kicking his soccer ball while it looked like Niki was trying and failing to chase after his older brother. Sylvie was sitting on her phone while it looked like Nik was taking a nap on the couch next to her.

Y/N walked out into the backyard and sat on the couch next to Nik. Sylvie looked up from her phone and then to her.

“How was your appointment?” She asked.

“It was good.” Y/N replied.

Max had come out a few moments later, changed out of his jeans into athletic shorts and walked towards Nico and Niki to play with them for a bit.

“Did you find out if it is a boy or a girl?”

“Not yet. Max took me to Dior to pick out a few things, and set it up so the color of the bag he got me matches the gender of the baby.”

“Aww that is very sweet.”

They had all stayed outside for a while longer before Nico started to complain that he was hungry. Max had carried Nik inside while Sylvie had taken the toys back inside and Y/N started making an early dinner.

“Are you staying for dinner Sylvie?” Y/N asked.

“No, I have plans with Pierre. He’s taking me out but let me know when you open up the box.”

“Of course.”

“Just don’t tell Pierre, there is a bet about the gender on the grid group chat.” Max replied before Sylvie reached for her bag and said goodbye to the kids.

“Does that mean that if I get a sister, her room is going to be where Papa’s office is?” Nico asked, watching as Y/N made dinner.

“Well, Nico. Probably not.” Y/N said before Max took over speaking.

“Your Mama and I were thinking that we would move all your furniture into the room that Oma stays in when she visits and the new baby could have your room.”

“But Oma’s room is so much bigger than mine and it’s not even on the same floor.”

“You are the oldest Nico, and the new baby will have to sleep on the same floor as Papa and I, we can’t just leave the baby anywhere.” Y/N was hoping that her and Max didn’t need to tell him that he was getting bigger and it may be a good idea for him to have a little more independence around the house. He was good about making his own bed, cleaning up after the cats, and playing with his brothers without being rough with them. He had earned it.

“Can I get a new bed, or a hot wheels track on my walls like Greyson Archibald?” Nico started to ask while bring up one of the kids in his class.

“We’ll see. Papa and I still have to pay off the yacht, and we’re also building the guest house so Auntie Vic and Uncle Tom can stay when they visit.” Her and Max had a lot of money put into projects around the house.

“Okay,” Nico slowly said, “But can I at least choose the paint in my room. I don’t like the light blue anymore.”

“Sure!” Max answered before looking over at Y/N. What had they just done?

Everything was winding down for them. Nico was planning to watch a movie with Niki, they got into a fight about which one to watch.

“Woody!” Niki yelled, shoving the plush toy into his older brother's face.

“Nuhu, Star Wars. I want to see Luke take on Darth Vader!”

“Nico, can you let him watch Toy Story? He needs to go to bed before you.” Y/N asked.

“But Papa and I are watching them together.”

“I know, but he’ll fall asleep faster if you let him watch.” She looked at Niki and he was already rubbing his eyes. “After that you and Papa can watch Star Wars.”

Nico eventually relented. The kids were watching the movie and her and Max went into the kitchen to open the box that they had gotten at Dior.

“I think you should open it.” She said moving the box closer to Max.

“No, mijn leeuwin. It’s for you. You should open it.” He said moving the box closer to her.

Y/N moved to pull the ribbon from the box and saw a note on a white card,

Congratulations on your exciting news y/n!

- Love, The Dior Cannes Team

She let the ribbon fall away from the box and then opened it, the crisp white tissue paper against her fingers. She undid the sticker that held the tissue paper together and then started to move it away from the white dust bag in the box.

She moved her hand into the white bag and started to pull the handbag out when she saw the edge of a twilly peaking out in pastel purple and… pink. She lifted the bag out further to see a pink Lady Dior bag with its gold hardware giving off a nice shimmer in the low lighting of the kitchen.

“Max,” Is all she can say before he’s pulling her in closer to him. His lips are on hers within a few seconds and it feels like he’s trying to devour her. His hands on her hips and brushing over her hair.

“Thank you,” She hears him say when he starts to pull away from her. His hands go to her abdomen running over the growing bump. She moves her arms around his neck and presses a few quick kisses to his lips.

She shakes her head at his words. She didn’t do anything, this was all him. “You wanted this Max. You wanted her.”

She looks at him to see a few tears spilling from his eyes. He moves his head onto her shoulder.

“I did, I wanted our little girl.” He muttered into her hair.

Y/N let her own tears start to fall, she had been so concerned that if they didn’t have a girl Max would react horribly. But know that she knows they’re having a girl. She’s letting herself finally be happy with the result.

She pulls away from him just a bit and starts to laugh. “Be ready to have a lot more pink in your life.”

He lets out a quick breath, “Well, I did ask for this.” with a small shrug of his shoulders. She nods back at him and then he kisses her cheek with his hands settling on her hips.

She knows that they have more to talk about. Like a name, and who the baby’s god parents are going to be, maybe it’s time to fulfill Lando’s wish of being a god parent. But for now she’ll enjoy the moment.

Her and Max leave the unpacked box and bag on the counter and join their other children in the living room.

“Star Wars!” Nico yells as her and Max move to sit on the couch.

She knows that their family will be complete by the end of the year, she can feel it.

November 19 - 20, 2028

“Grandma GG!” Nico said, running up to Geri as her and Christian walked through the door of the house.

“Nico,” She greeted the boy, opening her arms for him. She hugged him and her eyes darted around the room for the other two boys that were in the house.

Geri had let Nico go and then he ran to Christian for a hug. “I missed you Grandpa.”

Christian gave Nico a hug back. “Missed you too,” Christian said even though he had seen Nico a couple weeks ago.

“Where are the other kids?” The redhead had asked you.

You had led Geri into the living room to see Niki playing with a set of building blocks, and Nik was taking a nap in his swing.

“Oh Y/N, they’re precious. Can’t believe that you're pregnant with one more.” She said taking a seat on the couch that was pressed against the windows.

“The last one,” After finding out that you and Max were having a girl, you had both agreed that four kids was enough.

“You excited to have a girl?” “A bit, Max seems more excited than me.”

“When are you due again?”

“Next week on Wednesday. The last race is on Sunday, three days after.”

“You guys always cut it close when the season ends or breaks happen.” Y/N was always grateful that her pregnancies seemed to find an off way of aligning with Max’s schedule somehow.

“I feel bad taking him away from you, Y/N.” Christian said, taking a seat on the couch. “Can always tell Max to stay home and we can call up one of the other drivers from the junior team? I’m sure Yuki wouldn’t mind having a go in Max’s car for the weekend.”

“Leave my wife out of this Christian, she’s too close to her due date.” Max said, handing Christain a beer.

“I’m just saying, in case something happens. We’ve already won another Constructors, I am more than happy for Oscar to take the Drivers Championship this year.”

It was odd to hear Christian be so content with Max not possibly winning this year's drivers championship.

“And let Red Bull’s arch nemesis Zac Brown win? Surprising,” Y/N said with a laugh.

“Well, we’ll see what happens.” It was only after 2024 that the McLaren and Red Bull rivalry on track started to heat up. Max was still friends with Oscar and Lando when there weren’t races going on.

“Grandpa, can you play cars with me?” Nico asked, holding out a little red Aston Martin.

“Sure, but just until your Mum has dinner ready.” Christian replied before following Nico into his “new” bedroom.

“Oh Y/N, can I see the baby's room now that it’s complete? I know you’ve sent me some pictures.”

“Yes, mijn leeuwin, you should show her,” Max suggested. Y/N knew how proud Max was of painting the walls and putting all of the furniture together by himself before the baby got here. “I can watch Nik and then take the food out when it deeps.”

Geri helped Y/N down the stairs before walking into the baby’s room.

Y/N moved to sit in the rocking chair that had been moved out of Niki and Nik’s room into here after Max had finished painting the walls a light pastel pink that went with the white furniture.

“I miss this stuff from when Bluebell was little,” Geri said, holding up a small pair of baby Christian Louboutin’s that had been gifted to them from one of Y/N’s colleges.

“You should have seen some of the things Max and I returned a few months ago.”

“Anything crazy?” Geri asked, straightening the blanket that was hung over the side of the crib.

“One of the traders that works on the same floor as me got us a fine china set from Hermés for her. That was an immediate return,” She knew all too well that it would be cute to have but would never get used and if it was would need to be hand washed.

“What? What do they think you're going to use that for?” Geri asked.

“No idea,” Y/N said with a laugh and then laid her hand over her bump to feel a kick from the baby.

“Max did a really good job in here. I can tell how excited he is.” Y/N took another look around the room to all of the baby clothes hung in the closet, the plush pink horse in the crib. Max took so much pride in the time that he got to spend here getting it ready for their daughter.

“Yeah, he’s really excited. I think he’s really thinking about not going to the race in case I go into labor early.”

Geri gave her a small hug. “These things happen when they need to. Don’t stress about it without a reason.”

Her and Geri walked back upstairs to Max pulling the lasagna out of the oven and setting it on the dining room table.

“Boys, food is ready!” Max yelled into the living room.

Nico and Niki came walking in. Christian was holding Nik who was sleepily rubbing at his eyes.

“Mama,” Niki said, reaching for her. “Want to sit with Papa.”

She helped Niki over to the table and settled him so he could sit in one of the chairs by himself. Everyone was starting to sit down while Max moved to get Nik’s food out of the fridge, it was pureed squash.

Nico and Niki were eating through the lasagna, Max would blow on a piece of the lasagna for Niki however more of it just ended up on his shirt then in his mouth.

Geri had offered to go and change Niki out of his ruined clothes while Max cleared the table. Christian was showing Nico a video on his phone about the new kid who would be taking the F2 seat for Red Bull this year.

“Do you want coffee or something?” Y/N asked as if she was getting ready to move from her seat.

“I can put the kettle on, don’t worry Y/N” Geri said walking back into the kitchen with Niki already in his pajamas.

Y/N watched as Geri insisted on filling the kettle with water and set it to boil.

Max and Christian had disappeared downstairs and Geri had gone to the restroom. The kettle finally sang when it was boiling hot, Y/N had slowly moved from her chair and turned the stove off. She left the kettle where it was and reached for the brawer where all of the coffee and tea was.

She had just started to reach into the cabinet above to grab cups as the all too familiar pain filled her abdomen. Braxton Hicks, she knew the drill. She took a few deep breaths and it seemed to fade away.

She was able to get another two mugs down before Geri rejoined her in the kitchen.

“Sweetheart, you doing okay?” She asked as she moved closer to Y/N.

“Braxton Hicks, I’ll be fine.” Y/N replied, trying to shake the feeling off.

Eventually Geri filled her mug with some herbal tea and lemon from the trees in the backyard.

“I know, I just think that the times are off. When I go into the corner, I’m supposed to be able to go flat out and it’s not giving that.” Y/N heard Max telling Christian.

Her and Geri looked at each other and shared a smile.

“Well, I’m sure you’ve told GP.” Christian started to say. “See, so we’ll wait until we're at the track on Friday, I’m sure the team at the factory also saw the numbers and are working on a solution.”

“It just could be better is all I’m saying.”

“I know Max.” Christian said as they re-entered the kitchen.

Y/N had sat down and Niki had moved to rest his head against her thigh. Her and Geri both made it through a cup of tea before sitting up straight wasn’t comfortable anymore. Max was first to offer to help her go to the living room.

“Max, I'm fine.” she said, holding her back and took a few steps forward.

A few minutes later Geri had followed Y/N to the living room to see her standing in a puddle of amniotic fluid. Looks like her water just broke.

“I’ll get Max.” Geri had said after setting the cups down on the closest table.

About half an hour later Christian and Geri were still at the house saying that they would stay the night and put the boys to bed.

“We’ll come by the hospital in the morning,” Christian said as Max went to put Y/N’s bag in the car.

“We appreciate this.” Max said.

“It’s what family does Max. Now go be with your wife, because the moment your daughter is born, it’s going to change your whole world.” Christian patted Max on the back as Geri had helped Y/N into the car.

It was two hours later that they were already at the hospital still waiting to hear from a part of the medical staff and Y/N was squeezing his hand every minute or two.

“You doing okay?” Max asked

She shook her head no.

“Want me to get a nurse? I know they checked you over and they said you’re only a few centimeters dilated-" Max didn’t get to finish his sentence before Y/N let out a loud wimper. Max immediately moved out of his seat towards where the nurses desk was.

“I’ll be right back.” He said and kissed her sweaty forehead.

Max moved up to a nurse, “Hi, my wife is in labor and I was wondering if I could get an update on her epidural?”

The nurse gave him a questioning look before she looked to where Y/N was sitting. “Oh, umm let me go check if the anesthesiologist is ready to give it to her and if they are we’ll get her into a room for delivery prep.”

Max gave her a nod back and then walked back to Y/N.

“So?” She asked, looking up at him.

“They’re waiting for the anesthesiologist.” She nodded at him and then dropped her head to his shoulder.

It took another half an hour before they were ushered into a room and did another check.

“5 centimeters, halfway there. Looks like you’re ready for the epidural.” The anesthesiologist said and moved to reach for a needle. Max kept holding Y/N’s hand and saw her try to stop herself from moving forward from the needle going into her skin.

“Better?” He asked her. She still shook her head no.

“Give it about 10 to 15 minutes, it should start to dissipate." One of the nurses said.

Max kept an eye on his watch and 30 minutes had passed, Y/N had turned onto her side. A nurse had come in a few minutes ago and checked her and found out that she was fully dilated and ready to start pushing.

“Max,” he heard her whimper. She looked at him and reached for his hand. “Get a nurse.”

Max gave her a nod. He let go of her hand despite the fact that he felt like he shouldn’t.

“Can I get some help? My wife seems to be in pain.”

A nurse looked into the room, “Has she been given an epidural?”

“Yes, but she-” He had been cut off.

“Give it a bit more. She could just be experiencing some back pain.”

“It’s been 30 minutes since she got it, and she’s already in labor.”

Two nurses shared a look before one of them reached for a phone and started to talk to someone.

“Ahh!” Max heard coming from Y/N’s room before another nurse walked in to see her holding her stomach. The first thing a nurse did was look at a monitor to see the read out on a machine.

“SHIT!” The nurse said before pressing a button.

It was like a haze had set over Y/N’s room before he heard something that made his stomach drop and feel unbearably heavy.

“The baby’s heart rate is dropping!” He heard being yelled in the room.

WHAT? He thought. Her heart rate was dropping? They needed to do something, NOW!

“Get the father out of here, she needs to deliver now and get the baby out so the heart rate doesn’t drop anymore. Her contractions are putting her body under more stress.”

Max could only stand there before a nurse made him leave the room.

“Mr. Verstappen,” He heard muffled in his ears. “We’re going to do… everything that we can to make sure that they’re both healthy.” The nurse kept talking to him as he heard Y/N still yelling as he was led into the waiting room of the maternity ward.

Max tried his best to nod at the nurse before being left in the waiting room.

It had been a long 5 hours after Max had been rushed out of Y/N’s delivery room after complaining to one of the nurses that something was wrong with his wife. Something had gone wrong while she had been trying to deliver the baby. The nurse had pulled Max out of the room trying to calm him down while he could hear Y/N in pain.

He had been standing in the hallway of the maternity ward in the light blue scrubs they had given to him, pacing, and occasionally checking his phone.

After 2 hours, he had called his mom asking her not to bring the boys to the hospital yet. He wanted to wait for the doctors to come out and tell him what was going on with his wife. Sophie, however, insisted that she be with him, and let Christian and Geri watch over the boys while she was with her son.

She showed up a few minutes ago and watched as Max wandered the hallway waiting to hear any news.

“Mr. Verstappen.” He heard in his native Dutch.

Max perked his head up to see Y/N’s doctor standing before him in what looked like relatively clean scrubs.

“Yes?”

“I just wanted to let you know that your wife is fine.” The words made Max’s chest deflate letting out a big breath. “While the birth was going on, we found out that the epidural hadn’t worked on her, putting her under stress and making the baby’s heart rate drop. So, your wife had to deliver naturally.”

“They okay?” His mom asked.

Max couldn’t think. There had been a chance that he could have lost you and the baby. He couldn’t imagine it. Not just him losing you but the boys as well.

“Both mother and baby are doing well. We had a small scare, but they’re both healthy. I can take you back to see them.”

Max nodded before following the doctor down the hall. They ended up at a wooden door with a window that peaked into the room. Max could barely make out what you looked like.

“Max.” His mother said. He looked back at her before she gave him a hug to try to calm him down before he walked into the room. His mother spoke into his ear, “Try to remember that she’s okay, they both are.”

Max pulled the handle of the door slowly walking into the room. Y/N was slightly sitting up in bed with a bundle of blankets on her chest. He made slow tentative steps towards the bed, pulling the empty chair to your side so he could sit next to you.

He dropped his head next to your lap and could feel one of your hands start to run through his hair. Max took a few small, fast breaths taking in the sterile smell of detergent and soap on the sheets. He lifted his head up to see her holding a bundle of blankets with a small pink cap peeking out from the bundle.

“You’re so strong.” He stuttered out as he sat by your side. He reached out and laid his hand over yours that covered part of the baby‘s back.

“I wasn’t the first two times?” You joked. He did his best to chuckle along, pushing the fear of losing you away. He felt terrified hearing your screams in the hallway from the pain.

Max couldn’t help but marvel at the bundle of blankets against your chest. Every time that another child of his came into the world it felt surreal.

“Always, mijn leewin. You are always strong.” Moving to rest his head against your shoulder. He would have tried to climb into the hospital bed with you but didn’t want to move the baby in your arms.

“Do you want to hold her?” You asked him. He could see that you were making a move to pass her over.

Max was careful about taking the baby from you. He placed her into the crook of his arm, holding her head up with his hand. He had a daughter.

Max looked up at Sophie to see a tear run down her cheek.

“Finally a girl in the family?” She asked in English. You nodded at her before the sound of a knock came from outside of the door.

It was the doctor here to check on you. She went over the epidural scare that had happened, and said that you were lucky to still have the local anesthesia in your system.

“Your husband did a great job after you told him that you could feel that the epidural wasn’t working. Went straight to a nurse, we caught that your daughter’s heart rate was dropping and everything ran smoothly after. We were able to deliver her with no complications.” Max saw you reach over for his hand. He moved the baby down a bit, and then clasped your hands together. He could feel your wedding band on your finger, and ran one of his fingers over it. He had never been more grateful for the light almost biting feeling of the diamonds pressing into his skin more than he was now.

Max could feel his mother’s eyes on him but said nothing to her. He thanked the doctor for coming in to check on you.

“I’m just happy that you’re both okay.” He said holding the baby closer to his chest. “I was so worried when they told me that her heart rate had dropped.”

Max looked down at their daughter.

“She was worth it Max, all the pain made it worth it.”

Max leaned up and kissed Y/N on the lips muttering a silent Thank You.

“Well, I’ll leave you guys.” The doctor said taking the folder with her. “You have a fighter on your hands.” She motioned to the bundle in Max’s arms.

Max gave the doctor half a smile back. He saw Y/N leaning back into her pillow more with a small smile spreading over her lips.

“Mum?” Max asked. “Want to hold your granddaughter?"

Sophie shifted forward, standing a little straighter and then walked closer to Max.

“I would love to.” She said.

Max moved out of the chair, and then Sophie sat down in it before placing the baby in her waiting arms.

“Halo, schetje.” The little girl had seemed to find a way of moving her hand out of the bundle and Sophie’s hand brushed hers.

Max had been standing on the other side of the bed watching his mother and his daughter before placing his hand on Y/N’s shoulder. He was lucky to be surrounded by such strong women in his life.

“Max,” Y/N said.

“Hmm?” He hummed in question.

“I think you should pick her name.” Max’s eyebrows went up at her words. She wanted him to pick her name.

Max gave himself a few minutes trying to run through all of the possible names and combinations that they discussed, and there was one configuration that he kind of liked.

“Nicole?” He said with a slight question in his voice. “Nicole Victoria Sonja.” He got out a little clearer.

When they had talked about names originally Max had brought up the idea of having her be named after either his sister or his mum. It took looking at Nicole to know that he wanted to name her after both of them but knew that his mother would never accept it. She would say it was too much, so he would give his daughter the closest thing to it.

“I think it’s perfect.” He heard his wife say.

Max gave her a smile and moved to sit on the edge of her bed so he could watch his mother and daughter while holding his wife’s hand. Soon Nicole would be able to meet the rest of her family in her brothers, other grandparents, aunt, uncle and cousins. For now, he was happy to just be sitting in the hospital room after the earlier stressful hours of this morning.

Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @lpab, @thedecalcomania-blog, @xoscar03, @em-gvf01, @haikyuen, @shelbyteller , @geniusalpaca, @princessria127, @mysticalnightenthusiast, @green-thots, @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp, @ellelabelle, @lilypat, @dreamercrowd

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krys4h · 12 days ago

Text

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐲 ◞﹒୧ .

✧ ⁝ 𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐮◞ ྀི

=͟͟͞͞✧ Oliver is a popular frat boy, the complete opposite of your reserved and shy personality. You've been working together on a joint project in your psychology major for three months, but everything changes when he invites you to his birthday party. It's time for you to know what it's like to have his stubble grazing against your inner thighs…

⋆𐙚 ─ university au, porn with plot, smut, chubby!reader, plus-size!reader, shy!reader, fratboy!oliver, whipped!oliver, work together for a school project, party, body images issues, insecurities, reassurance, mutual pining, pet names (baby), kissing, neck kisses, dirty talking, praising, fingers sucking, foreplay, oral sex, vaginal sex, clit rubbing, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, vaginal penetration, rough sex, sex on piano, floor sex, standing sex, cowgirl, minors dni.

“Sup,” a deep voice that always warmed your lower abdomen made you look up from your book.

Oliver Aiku.

Six feet three, massive muscles, and a model face. The sexiest man in the entire university, the type of man every girl wanted in her bed but couldn't keep until marriage. He was a known womanizer; you'd dubbed him ‘the promiscuous boy’ in your mind; he was the forbidden fruit. Handsome to look at but he'd wreak havoc in your life if you touched him.

He walked into the private study room, removing one earbud from his white wired headphones. His unzipped hoodie and his blue and white NFL jersey was loose-fitting, as were his dark baggy jorts; his gray Adidas Samba sneakers gave the illusion of more height because of his high white socks. He'd just come out of the shower, and his dark purple hair was slightly wavy from the humidity, the green tips curly. He slumped into the chair in front of you with a heavy breath, indicating he was probably tired from his soccer training.

“Hey,” you greeted him, your voice soft and shy.

Oliver and you were friends - if we ignored the way you had butterflies in your belly every time his groggy voice answered your Instagram messages in the morning -, ever since you were working on a joint project in your behaviorism class. You had the same major, psychology, and the chemistry between you was perfect, his smirk always making your insides bubble up and his intelligence astounding you every Wednesday when you saw each other for your sessions. You had been seeing each other every week for 3 months and your connexion was slowly deepening.

You weren't at all the type of girl he usually hung out with. You were reserved, focused on your studies, and your body was hidden by your shapeless clothes, a far cry from the girls dressed in miniskirts typical of the house parties he always attended. But Oliver didn't really care about popularity.

He found the way you smiled shyly every time he complimented you adorable. He was addicted to your voice and would purposely make mistakes in his notes just so you'd explain them again and he'd stare your lips move. He was whipped, and he wasn't ashamed. The girl in study room 203 was his little haven, his little crush, untainted by the superficiality of the popular people he was used to.

He took his things out of his backpack, opening his laptop. The light from his laptop illuminated his face in the shadow of the hood still on his head. As usual, when you saw his face, you held your breath. That was truly the effect Oliver had on women: breathtaking. His sharp, masculine features had a kind of sensuality, his stubble sending tingles down your spine, wanting to know what it was like to feel his coarse hairs against the skin of your thighs. His ears had a multitude of piercings and a mini hoop earring on his lobes, and on his lips, there were two piercings, one at each corner of his mouth. The silver metal highlighted his heterochromic eyes, the green left eye and the purple right eye. When he looked at you, you never knew which beautiful eye to focus on, his irises hypnotizing.

“How was your weekend?” he asked, his naturally sensual voice making it difficult not to cross your legs, to stop the pulse between your legs.

“I studied, and you?”

His lips quirked up, he glanced at you, a playful gleam in his eyes. “Yeah, I kind of thought you would say that. You’re a total nerd.”

“You're as brilliant at psychology as I am, Oliver.”

His heart fluttered in his chest at your compliment, a small smile on his face. It was the truth, even when he was making his schemes to get you to sit next to him so he could look more closely at your lips when you spoke, he was still the most intelligent man you had ever met in your life. His remarks in class were always excellent and he had astonishing and impressive thought patterns, his brain working like a computer, managing to make brilliant conclusions, without necessarily needing to recite his notes.

“You shouldn’t compliment a man like me too much. Only God knows what I would understand from our exchanges.”

“What do you mean?” you tilted your head, your naivety made him laugh inside.

“I’m saying it makes me hard when you compliment me like that.”

Blood rushed into your cheeks, making the tip of your ears hot.

“Um… Well…”

He watched you search for words in your embarrassment with a sly smile. He took malicious pleasure in teasing you and saying obscene things just to see your shifty eyes or your fidgeting hands. He opened the Google Doc you shared for your work together, nonchalantly as if he wasn’t making your heart race.

“I watched a documentary on our topic and took notes,” you tried to change the subject, but Oliver still kept a smirk on his face as he took the notebook you handed him.

Your work topic was on Observational Learning and Albert Bandura's theory of social learning. This theory is a psychological concept that offered valuable insight into how individuals acquire new behaviors and adapt their actions based on the observation of others. The documentary focused on Albert Bandura's test, in which a woman hit an inflatable clown in front of a child. The child was then placed in the room with toys and then taken away, leaving him alone with the inflatable clown. The test showed that the other children who had not seen the woman hit the object had not been violent once left alone with it, compared to the one who had seen the violence and reproduced it, confirming the idea of obverserational learning in children.

Oliver’s smirk faded as his eyes wandered on your notebook, a growing admiration in his eyes.

“It's very precise and detailed. You're truly my favorite nerd, this will really help us with the mini-project.”

His praise made you feel all fuzzy inside, and you weren't deaf to the longing tone he'd used. Did Oliver like you as much as you liked him? That couldn't be the case. Oliver came from a different world than you. He was handsome, rich, and popular; the only thing you shared was having a shadow.

“I thought we could also talk about autistic children in our project,” you said, staring at your laptop, avoiding meeting his gaze that made you melt. “They’re the ones who come to mind when we talk about people who copy others by observation. They don't have social clues and need to observe the worlds around them to be able to act appropriately in different contexts. However, learning by observation can be more difficult for them. We should talk about them and the methods adults use to teach behaviors to autistic children.”

“Good point,” he inclined his head in approval. “However, one of the criteria for it to work, according to Albert Bandura, is attention. It's already difficult for autistic children, and I'll let you imagine for children with comorbidities like ADHD. But I believe there are techniques like discrete trial training to help autistic children develop new skills.”

You spend the hour searching for articles to add details to your joint project on the subject of autism. As you worked, Oliver’s eyes lingered on you, your lips, your chest hidden under your loose-fitting sweatshirt, your face. He thought it was a crime for a girl as pretty as you to hide behind her clothes; for him, you should grace everyone's eyes with your beauty. Or keep it a secret, because there will be more for him. Because yeah, you didn't know, but he was planning on having you in his bed one day. And even for more than one night if it went well.

“Wait.”

He gently grabbed your arm before you left the study room, the touch of his skin on yours sending an electric feeling sparks across your skin. You blinked, your eyelashes fluttering as you cocked your head to one side, and the sight made his dick twitch. You were so pretty, so his type.

“I want to get my favorite homebody out of her dorm,” Oliver's hand moved down to yours, intertwining his fingers with yours. Your breath caught in your chest, paralyzed and unable to remove your hand from his. Tall, he towered over you, but lowered his head to be a few inches from your head, his gaze lingering.

“Get out of my dorm?” you whispered.

“It's my birthday on Saturday, I'm having a party at my uncle's house. I want you to come.”

The most popular guy on campus invited you to a party for his birthday? Internally, you were kicking your legs on your bed, screaming in your pillow, but physically, a gentle look passed acrosss your face.

“I’ve never been to a college party.”

“Never, like never?”

His grip on your hand tightened. You shook your head. His eyes bored into yours, an affection barely concealed in it.

“I'll stay with you if you're anxious.”

“I don’t want to ruin your birthday…”

“My birthday is even better if you honor me with your visit.”

Oliver had a way with words that was horribly effective on you, warmth pooling in your belly. You had to pull yourself together; Oliver was the promiscuous boy, the forbidden fruit. You remove your hand from his, your arm returning to the level of your hips.

“I'm going to see if a friend can-”

“I'm the one coming with you. Think of it as a date.”

A nervous laugh escaped your mouth before you could stop it.

“A-A date?”

“Yeah. With the kiss at the end when I walk you to your dorm like a gentleman, have you ever done that?” he leaned his back against the door frame, crossing his arms on his chest, a smug look on his handsome face.

Your stomach was all light and bubbly, as your heart raced again. A kiss? By THE Oliver Aiku? You tightened the strap of your bag and walked out the door, pushing past him, too nervous to think of anything to say. Oliver was stunned, unaccustomed to such rejection, but he turned around and caught up with your quick steps.

“I’m serious,” he insisted, walking beside you, his body brushing against yours. “I’ve had a crush on you since forever. You’ve only known me since we started working together, but I’ve noticed you since the beginning of the year, during my first child psychology class.”

You walked faster, your heart pounding in your chest and threatening to burst out of your ribcage.

“Please,” he knelt in the university library, the people at the computers looking at you curiously. Oliver didn’t care, he had a mission. “I waited all year to have a reason to invite you,” he brought his hands together in prayer, imploring you with his eyes as he was at your feet.

He was so pathetic, so whipped, the sight of him made you feel powerful, important, and for a few seconds you forgot the different financial means and social statuses that differentiated you.

“Is that real, or do you just want extra help with your studies?”

Your voice was almost a whisper, vulnerable and low. Your ex-boyfriend had pulled this trick on you, making you believe he was in love with you, only to end up making fun of your friends for how your body jiggled during sex and taking advantage of your class notes.

“I don’t give a damn about my GPA. I only come to the sessions because it’s you.”

The honesty in his voice and the desire in his eyes eased your fears. You looked away.

“Stand up, this is embarrassing.”

“Only if you specifically said, ‘Yes, Oliver, I’ll come to your birthday.’ And with conviction.”

You rolled your eyes, but your face softened.

“Yes, Oliver, I’ll come to your birthday.”

“I said with conviction.”

The library director approached us, telling us that prayers were forbidden here.

“I can’t even show my devotion to my goddess, it’s a scandal,” Oliver grumbled as he stood up, and your shoulders shook as you let out a quiet laugh. There was something surreal about hearing Oliver call you his goddess, but your gut told you that you could trust him, and that it wasn't a prank or something malicious.

“So…”

“10 p.m. Saturday at the university parking lot.”

It was like he had planned it all or waited months to say it, and it was true. He had to wait painfully all year until June to finally act on his crush, because he knew you weren't the party type so his usual pick-up techniques weren't going to work with you. It was a godsend that you were together for the school project.

You nodded and waved goodbye to him, leaving the library with a small smile on your face. Once you reached your dorm, you dove into bed and screamed into your pillow. Your crush was mutual!

𖥸

Saturday arrived quickly, and you found yourself walking between the cars in the parking lot to find Oliver’s. Your stomach in knots, you held your tiny purse in your hand. You were wearing a long, loose-fitting dress that didn't hug your body, and heels. Oliver saw you coming from a distance and didn't comment on your outfit. He was going to end up seeing you naked sooner or later. He noticed you were wearing makeup, the highlighter glowing on your skin under the artificial lights of the parking lot.

“So pretty, gorgeous even,” he muttered under his breath, the desire in his voice barely contained. He opened the passenger door for you and let you into his car. He started the car and began driving.

The drive to the party was silent. Oliver glanced at you a few times to check out the skin on your thick thighs when your dress rode up a little, or his eyes wandered to your face and admired your eyeshadow. His feet trembled against the floor of the car, his nervousness palpable. This was the first time he'd been nervous around a girl; usually, he chased his prey with confidence. But you were more reserved, a real challenge. Oliver always loved a challenge, so he wasn't going to back down from difficulty. He was going to have you, he was sure of it. He had to. He needed to, it was visceral.

“Do you drink alcohol?” he asked, as you got out of the car and walked toward the big house, the music already wafting into the neighborhood.

“No.”

His lips curved into a smirk. “Thought so.” You really were his favorite nerdy homebody.

He opened the door for you and you rushed into the party, immediately enveloped by the ambient heat and the smell of alcohol and cigarettes. The house was crowded, filled with students from your university, most of them smoking or drinking standing up, and people were dancing in the middle to the rhythmic and energetic music of Sexyy Red.

He took your hand in his to lead you into the kitchen to get you something to drink. His hand was rough and calloused against yours. You'd been too stressed during the session to focus on the texture of his hand last time, but now it was overwhelming. Everything about him was rough and masculine, his hard, muscular body contrasting with your softness and plushness. You couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to feel his naked body against you in a more intimate setting, but you pushed the thought away, a heat simmering in the pit of your stomach.

Lots of people stopped to give Oliver a handshake, giving you curious glances because you weren't the type of girl Oliver usually hung out with. Once in the kitchen, Oliver brought out some sodas for you to choose from.

“Happy birthday,” you breathed as you brought your glass to your lips.

His eyes lit up.

“Thanks, I hope you have a present for me tonight.”

Why did everything he said have a sexual undertone? You struggled to find your words and he gazed at you with eyes that glowed with a playful and mischievous glint, knowing full well what he was doing.

The music blasted loudly from the party's big speakers, and it was too loud for you. You liked quiet places where you could work on your psychology classes, and you weren't very sociable, so you watched people dancing and laughing together in front of you with an awkward expression, feeling out of place. He noticed your fidgeting hands, his heart aching for you.

"Do you want to go somewhere a little quieter?" Oliver asked, his voice surprisingly gentle.

You didn't know this soft side of Oliver; he was more of a laid-back, flirtatious guy, so it intimidated you a little.

"Yes, please," you uttered in a small voice, your head giving him a shy nod.

He laced your fingers with his again to lead you into a quieter room. You climbed the stairs together, arriving at the floor where people were kissing and grinding against the walls. Heat rose to your cheeks as you passed the lovers, but Oliver was indifferent to the scene. He opened the door to an empty bedroom where the television was on. You sat on the bed, finally reassured in a safe place and away from the deafening music.

"Isn't this Pretty Woman?" you asked, watching television and recognizing Julia Roberts and Richard Gere.

"Yeah," he closed the door and sat down next to you, his back against the headboard. "Do you want to watch the movie? It looks like it's just getting started." You inclined your head in acceptance, getting comfortable under the covers, your shoulders touching.

The movie was a love story between a wealthy man, Edward, and a prostitute, Vivian. Their encounter completely changed the prostitute's life, propelling her into a world of luxury and affection from the man. It was a classic romantic film.

Oliver and you watched the movie together, laughing at certain moments, the atmosphere light and comfortable between you. When they kissed on the screen, your body temperature rose, and you turned to Oliver but realized he was already staring at you, his lips parted. You focused back on the television, flustered.

“I know how to play the piano,” Oliver declared casually during a scene in the movie where the man played the piano, and then they made love on it.

You raised an eyebrow, surprised. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards.

“Why are you looking at me like that? A frat boy like me can't play the piano?”

“I admit I’m judging you a little.”

“You’re allowed, baby. Only you can.”

His ‘baby’ made you feel hot all over, and you cleared your throat, trying to sound normal and not flustered.

“Follow me,” Oliver got up from the bed and walked out of the bedroom. You followed his steps and saw him take out keys from his pocket and unlock a room that no one had access to before. It was a mini library with a dark brown wooden piano in the middle. Oliver locked the door behind you and sat down on the small stool in front of the piano and nodded at you to come closer. You complied, placing your hand on the piano to observe him.

His hands ran over the piano keys, a soft melody emerging from the instrument and filling the room with its high notes and low notes. Oliver was focused on his task, a deep crease between his brows as his eyes remained fixed on the instrument. The music was harmonious and dramatic, charged with emotion. He did it without sheet music, knowing it by heart; it was impressive to watch; you found him beautiful during it.

“What is it?”

“Romantic Homicide by D4VD. It’s a sad love song.”

“I didn’t know you had a emotional side like that.”

“There are many sides of me you don’t know, and I’d be very happy to show them to you one day.”

He turned to you, his eyes half-lidded and his voice sultry, and your fist clenched on the piano. One moment he was cute, the next he was a playboy, Oliver was multifaceted, and you desperately wanted to discover what parts of him he was hiding from the world. Watching him play the piano for you made you feel special and important, because it was something that probably few people knew about him.

“Talking about sides we don’t know, I have a personal question to ask you.”

“What is it?” you asked, your stomach knotting in anticipation.

He pressed his lips into thin line, softening his voice for you.

“You’re so beautiful so why are you hiding yourself everyday with clothes that don’t fit you? They are three times your size.”

You held your breath. The question brought out painful emotions that you had spent time burying inside. Navigating the world as a plus-size woman was difficult; people preached self-love and confidence, forgetting that it was human to be affected by people's criticism. How do you learn to accept and love yourself when the world shows time and time again that your body disgusts others, that your body type is some women's greatest fear? That some would rather starve than look like you? That your body doesn't deserve to be in popular clothing stores and you have to find clothes in your size in other brands, often fast fashion, despite your values? You didn't consider yourself insecure; you considered yourself a victim of society's cult of thinness. You loved yourself, to a degree, but preferred to hide your body to avoid criticism. It was already an act of self-love to protect your vulnerable body from judgmental eyes.

“It protects me. I go unnoticed, and I don’t get criticized if no one notices me,” you whispered, your voice shy and low.

Oliver’s eyes glowed with sympathy and empathy. He grabbed your waist and placed you in front of him, pressed against the piano, and rested his head on your stomach, like the scene in Pretty Woman.

“If you would let me, I’ll show you what it’s like to let someone show you your body and being cherished.”

Butterflies took flight in your belly, your hands dipping in his hair.

“You would?”

“I would do anything you want.”

His eyes looked up at you, a possessive and dark glint in his heterochromic eyes.

“Let me show you. I would be so good to you, baby.”

His hands moved down your bare thighs to climb up under your dress, teasing the elastic of your panties. Desire and want filled his gaze as he stared at you intensely. He stood up from the small stool to kneel in front of you, pushing you against the piano so that you sat on the keys of the instrument. An incoherent melody came out of it due to your ass on the keys.

You swallowed with difficulty, the pulse between your legs betraying your desire to discover what sex with him was like. You gave him a shy nod, giving him silent permission. His mouth split into a grin as his head got lost under your dress. He pushed your panties to the side, accessing your entrance, and buried his mouth and nose deep into your wet folds.

His mouth touched the most intimate part of your body before he even kissed you, testifying to his visceral need to have you. He swiped his tongue up and up your slick folds until he reached your clit, the warm metal ball of his piercing rolling around the throbbing bud. Electricity sparked across your body as you felt his tongue piercing, the gentle pressure of it on your clit adding to the intensity.

You rocked your hips against his face, soft pants slipping out of your mouth as the edge of his tongue traced circles on your clit. He detached his lips from your core to spit onto it, and spread it with his tongue over your center, his fingers stroking your folds. The combination of his mouth sucking on your swollen clit and his two fingers thursting into you made you moan, and you placed one hand over your mouth to keep yourself from making too much noise, reminding yourself you were at a party.

“Moan, I don’t give a damn,” he muttered against you, the vibrations of his voice, lost inside you, making you clench your thighs around his face. He placed your knees on his shoulders to better eat you out, his three-day stubble sliding against the skin of your inner thighs, his coarse hair pricking your flesh.

He hummed against you, tasting you, feasting on you. The vibrations of his humming sent waves of pleasure through you, soft moans escaping your mouth as your hips were grinding against his face. His tongue was expert in your pussy, thursting deeper, exploring all of your cunt; it was the best oral sex experience you had ever had, with the combination of his fingers moving back and forth.

“You feel me, baby? It feels good, doesn’t it? Continue these pretty moans f’me.”

His lips closed around your clit, sucking greedily while his digits curled inside you, his fingers rubbing against that spongey spot in your cunt that made your legs tremble. Your toes curled as your orgasm washed over you. He stood up, wrapping his lips around his sticky fingers, sucking and swirling his tongue down to the knuckle, while staring at you with a greedy gaze. You were speechless in front of him, your breathing catching in your throat.

He pulled down his jeans and boxers just enough to release his length, which was already leaking, his tip reddening. He spat on his dick, spreading saliva over his length, stroking himself before grabbing your thighs to wrap them around his waist. He took a condom from his pocket, ripping it with his teeth in a quick snap, and slipped it on himself.

He dragged your dress over your head, and the coldness of the room didn't affect the burning heat of your body. In your panties and bra in front of him, you felt vulnerable, the sitting position on the piano accentuating your belly rolls, and your stretch marks were visible on your stomach and hips. You looked away, but with one hand, he held your chin and brought your face back to him.

“Nah, you’re going to look at me when I take you, baby. You know how long I’ve wanted to do this? Have you strip naked in front of me? It’s even hotter than a soccer final, I swear. I want to fuck you until everyone in this house falls asleep,” he murmured, his voice dripping with want. He pushed your panties to the side again, and with his other hand, he gripped your thighs wrapped around your waist.

He brought his head close to yours until your breaths mingled, his eyes boring into yours. You saw neither disgust nor disappointment in his gaze, only a deep affection and intense craving. He lined up his length to your entrance and pressed his lips against yours, his tongue slithering into your mouth at the same time as his cock plunged into you.

The stretch were immediate, his cock veiny and girthy, he stretched you to his size, your walls molding around his veins. He let out a soft sigh into your mouth when he was overwhelmed by your tight heat. He made you feel so full that you had trouble breathing.

“Slow, fast or rough? I’m your man now, I will do anything you want.”

His first trust were gentle, his hips moving with a slowness that drive wild and begging for more.

“Fast and rough,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, panting softly against his lips.

A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest, the sound rough and low.

“Naughty girl,” he smiled against your mouth, deepening the kiss, his hand on your chin, moving to the back of your head as he picked up the speed. His hips slamming against yours, he swallowed all your moans. The effect was immediate; he angled his hips perfectly to rub his tip against your G-spot each time he bottomed out, making you moan against his lips. Your tongues danced together, sliding against each other in a messy, sloppy kiss. The wet slap of skin filled the room as he drove his dick inside you.

Accompanied by the lewd squelching of your union, the piano keys made jumbled notes due to your movements, making the act messy, domestic, and intense.

“I’m going to ruin this pussy for other men, you hear me?” he panted against you, his lips molding against yours, his mouth ravishing yours. “I’m made for this shit.”

Usually, he didn't feel anything when he kissed girls, but with you, he felt a warmth blooming in his belly, a tingling sensation, like butterflies. He wanted you so badly, and he was never going to let you go now that he had you in his arms.

His lips left your mouth to press soft kiss along your jaw and continue to your neck, trailing open-mouthed kissed on your heated skin. The brutal pace increased in intensity, his thrusts harder and harder as he thrust into you. The duality of his gentle kisses on your neck and the aggressiveness of the rolls of his hips made you shiver.

Your ass against the hard piano keys made you uncomfortable, and he noticed your expression. He pulled away from you, his erection glistening with your slickness.

He lay on the floor, on his back, and patted his thighs to make you come. You looked at him apprehensively, approaching him. He removed his t-shirt, revealing a ripped torso with muscles, abs, and a defined V-line. He was so muscular but so much thinner than your plus-size body that you hesitated to sit on him for fear of suffocating him.

“Crush me,” he commanded, his voice deep with urge.

“But what if-”

“I wanna die with this pretty body suffocating me, that’s my kink. Put all your weigh, I can take it. I’m made for you, you remember?”

His words reassured the insecure part of you, and you removed the rest of your underwear to be completely naked. You knelt, placed your legs next to each hip, and slowly sank down his cock. You winced at the big stretch again, your ass pressed against his pelvis as you sat completely on him. He gripped your belly rolls, his hands digging into the soft, ample flesh, his fingers sinking into the generous padding. He felt your weight on him, your fat thighs on either side of his waist, and he wanted to be enveloped in your plushness until he suffocated.

“So soft,” he kneaded the fat flesh of your sides in his hands, his eyes shining with appreciation, not a hint of disgust in his gaze. You bounced up and down against him, your clit rubbing his pelvis with each movement, causing soft pants to escape your mouth. He met your movements, planting his feet against the ground as he lifted his hips to match your pace, each roll of his hips sending waves of pleasure into you.

He took you roughly, his strokes precise and deep. His mouth was half-open, his eyes dilated as he watched your body jiggling with each of his thrusts with a lazy smile on his face. It was the best sight ever, better than seeing an 0-4 in his matches. His cock twitched every time your breasts bounced in a heavy gesture, your belly rippling as you undulated your hips against him.

He let you set the pace for a moment before grabbing your love handles and starting to fuck you into oblivion, drilling into your shit as he hated your gut. His hips lifted higher, slamming against you harder and harder, chasing his orgasm as his body was covered in a trickle of sweat. His muscles tensed at each of his strokes, his abs beneath you sore from the contractions. One of his hands moved away from your side so that his thumb came to tease your clit, tracing circles.

You were a moaning mess, your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as his downward strokes were driving you wild. The pressure inside you increased more and more until it reached its maximum, an explosion in your lower abdomen as your legs spasmed and waves of electricity ran throughout your body.

“Shiiiit,” he hissed, his voice rapsy and his face screwed on pleasure as your walls were clenching around him.

The contractions in your legs were tiring you out, and you stopped gyrating your hips against him, trying to catch your breath.

“Nah, keep bouncin’ on me, baby. Feels so good,” he gripped your hips to force you to move, his dick deep in your abused cunt, your walls fluttering around him because you were hypersensitive. You were so wet, your arousal dripping down his thighs, he was in heaven in your slippery tight heat.

He continued to rock his hips against you, his frantic pace never stopping as his labored breathing filled the room, the smell of sex and sweat enveloping your senses. Obscene noises drew from him as his grunts and shaky breaths echoed through the room. His gut twisted with arousal at the sight of you arching, your head thrown back. He looked at you with eyes filled with affection, happy that you let go, and continued to undulate his hips on his dick, your belly rolls rippling.

His hips lost their rhythm, and with one last hard and deep thrust, he uttered your name in a raspy tone as his cock twitched and emptied himself. He stood for a few seconds, taking deep breaths, his chest rising and falling.

Your panting finally subsided and your heart managed to beat at a normal rate. You relaxed, getting up from him. You got dressed in silence while Oliver watched you with a smile, sitting up, his eyes dilated.

“You know I’m never going to leave you alone after this? Givin’ me butterflies and shit, are you a witch or what?”

You let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head. He removed the condom and tied it in a knot, standing up and putting his clothes back on. He threw the object in the trash can next to the piano, and wrapped his arms around your shoulders as you headed for the exit.

“Let’s go to my frat house, everyone’s out partying tonight. We’ll be alone and comfortable.”

“Do you still have any energy?”

“Who said anything about sex? I just want to spend time with my girlfriend outside of class, that’s all.”

The word ‘girlfriend’ made your stomach flip. You finally had ‘the promiscuous boy’, you bite the forbidden fruit. And maybe it wasn't so bad after all.

𓍯 𝐤𝐫𝐲𝐬

260 notes · View notes

st4rymoon · 2 years ago

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✧𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬✧

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟏: 𝐓𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐫 | 18+ | 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 [sorry for the hold up I’ve been so busy this month 😭 it’s not even October anymore but just pretend like it is]

𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

warnings: switch Miguel, p in v, unprotected sex, manhandling, size kink, Miguel is a slut for thighs, slight argument with reader and her mom, subby Miguel, nerd Miguel, teasing, language, pet names, soft dom miguel, flirting, sexual tension

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

You really hate your mom right now. You told her about your struggle in chemistry and now here you were. Apparently to her, her best friends brother happens to be an expert in everything.

“You know he can be some sort of killer right? You just GAVE HIM MY ADDRESS?” You yelled into the phone. “Yeah yeah, I’ve met him hundreds of times! You remember him don’t you?” She sighed.

“That doesn’t mean you should give him my damn address mom. What the hell are you thinking” you seethed.

You remember him somewhat, well when you saw him last you were in your early teens. He was just a year older than you and annoyed the hell out of you. “Don’t be so dramatic. He’ll be there in 30” your mom ended the phone call leaving you in anger.

What in her right mind would lead her to giving him your address? Maybe if you leave now you can make an excuse, Right? No. You know your mom would tease you about this if you left.

You fixed yourself up and sat on the couch, watching your usual binge worthy show while waiting for Einstein to show up at your front door.

You tensed as you heard a knock at the door. Looking through the peep hole, you could see the a broad chest with backpack straps on their back. God how tall is this guy?

You opened the door and see the once messy haired short teen you once knew now a complete behemoth of a man. His shirt hugging his thick arms and chest while some grey sweats hugged around his waist.

His glasses sat at the bridge of his nose, dark messy wavy hair, chiseled jaw, god he looked like a Greek god.

Miguel couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows slightly as he saw you, he definitely didn’t remember you like this either. His eyes instinctively moved to your plump thighs as your shorts rode up high. Your thigh high socks definitely didn’t help.

He cleared his throat in hopes to snap himself out of it but you caught yourself before he could “Miguel right?” You smiled. “Ye- yeah, yeah” he nodded “Your mom gave me your address? I told her it might be a little weird if I just showed up but she wouldn’t take no for an answer” he chuckled awkwardly.

“That sounds like my mother, if your busy and all you don’t need to worry about it”

“I don’t have anything going on, but hey I’m already here right? Might as well?” He joked. The atmosphere was tense but you couldn’t help but invite him in “come in” you smiled and gave him space to walk in.

Miguel’s eyes scanned through your apartment, clean and tidy which he liked “So you’re struggling with Chem right?” He hummed as he turned back to look at you.

His breath hitched as he saw you bend down to get a few waters from the mini-fridge. Your ass was in perfect display as the flimsy white socks hugged the back of your thighs. His eyes flew down to his feet as you stood up and walked towards him.

You were unaware of his eyes lingering on you. You sat besides him, as you pulled out some of your work. “I’m struggling with these conversions” you sighed as you stared down at your insufferable homework.

When you looked up at Miguel you swear you could’ve jumped onto him and kissed him.

He was staring down at you, his eyes already on yours as he nodded. His body slumped slight towards you, close enough to feel how warm he was “What’s the thing that’s confusing?” He hummed.

You stuttered as you explained it to him. He nodded and started his teaching. You didn’t know how long you were studying, it flew by surprisingly fast and helped the tension disappear.

“I need a break” you whined as you slammed the book in annoyance “I think you deserved one” Miguel laughed as he placed the books back onto the table.

“How have you been? I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while” you smiled, sitting on your thighs now and body completely facing him. “I- I’ve been good. A lot of studying per usual”

“How about you? You definitely aren’t the same person I remember” Miguel joked “stressed as always and same here, I definitely didn’t expect this new you. I mean I remember the annoying freshman Miguel” you teased.

“New me?” He chuckled “I mean you grew like 10 ft and look like a damn super hero” you chuckled. Miguel felt himself heat up at your compliment. Surprisingly, he didn’t get many.

Maybe it was because he was a hermit most of the time but it took him by surprise “Thanks” he nervously chuckled as he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. His eyes scanned your body in a way that told you what he was thinking, you chuckled as he cleared his throat once he noticed you looking at him.

“So you live near here?” You hummed, Miguel nodded with his mouth slightly agar as you curled up your thighs onto your chest, slightly exposing your plump cunt through your shorts. “Ye- yeah I do, about 20 minutes” he nodded.

“It’s a surprise that we go to the same university yet I’ve never seen you” Miguel try’s his best to not make things awkward. “Different schedule’s, the campus is huge” you teased.

You could read Miguel like a book, it was cute. He was nervous despite being older than you and the obvious size difference. He was fidgeting with his hands and trying his best to not eye fuck you right now.

“You’re really trying hard not to check me out” you chuckled as you noticed him glare down at your tits “I- no I wasn’t I was-“ he stuttered. “Don’t worry, you're a nice piece of eye candy too” you cooed.

You could see his chest rising with every breath, every inch you scooted the heavier he breathed “why are you so nervous?” You cooed. “Im not” miguel replied, his eyes his glued onto yours ”sure”

“Don’t be nervous, I don’t bite” you pouted. Miguel really hated you right now. He was a gentleman and always contained himself. But seeing you tease him in your pretty pjs was getting to him. “What a shame” he whispered as his finger softly ghosted past your leg.

You perked up at the comment, what a shame? You watched as his fingers slowly rubbed up your skin. A whine escaped your lips as he pulled back, his eyes shooting up at the sound.

Miguel couldn’t help it, he leaned and kissed you. He had no idea why he did it, he isn’t the type to do these things but fuck did it feel good.

You jumped onto his lap, both of you messily kissing each other after a few hours of seeing each other. Miguel was panting, whining in your mouth as he felt your tits pressing against him.

His thumbs circled your hips as he softly runts his hips up into you “you feel so good” Miguel hummed as your lips latched onto his neck.

Miguel’s eyes were trained on your thighs, he watched them grind onto his sides as he bucked ups hips up. He watched them giggle as he fucked himself into you fully clothed.

Miguel was putty in your hands, he whined and squirmed as you pressed your body against his, hands tangled into his hair as he sat back in ecstasy. “Please” he whispered, your head shot up “yeah?” You cooed.

“Take ‘em off” he quietly spoke as he tugged at your shorts. You chuckled, obeying his wishes and kicked off your shorts. Miguel let out a pathetic whine as he saw you weren’t wearing any panties, your pussy on full view as you straddled back onto him.

“You gonna take these off? Or am I doing all the work?” You mocked as you ran your hands up his thighs. He nodded dumbly as he held you up to his chest with his arm as the other tugged his sweats off.

You were practically salivating at the sight of his cock spring out of his tightly fitted boxers. He was huge in every fucking way. “You won’t be doing the work”’he whispered into your ear as he hugged you onto his chest.

His lips latched onto your neck as he buried himself under your chin, sloppily licking and biting his way up to kiss you. The kiss was messy and sloppy as he pulled you in for a kiss with a fist full of your hair in hand.

Your eyes rolled back at the sensation of his cock rubbing between your folds, sticky slick coating him as he watched your body reacting to his.

You let out a yelp as he man handled you onto your back, his hands instinctively lifting your plump thighs onto your chest as he watched your pussy glistening in slick. He let out an animalistic moan as his eyes trailed up your thighs and to your face.

Your glossy eyes staring up at him as the flimsy material of your socks hugged the back of your thighs and pussy in full view would make anyone in their right mind lose their mind.

“God you’re so fucking pretty” he hummed as he fisted his cock and his tip dragged it through your folds with a smile on his face.

You were taken back by the way he looked above you, the guy who was under your spell a few minute’s ago now towering over you like he’s about to ruin you was driving you crazy.

“Please” you whined as he continued his teasing. He smiled, one of his thick hands rubbing up your thigh as he nodded “no more teasing” he cooed.

You let out a whine as he pushed himself inside you, his fat tip already bullying it’s way inside. “oh fu- oh my!” You moaned as he seethed, his eyes watching the way you hugged his cock, your needy pussy taking him greedily.

“Fuckkk…. Ah- fu-“ he hummed as he began to thrust his hips, one hand holding your legs onto your chest and the holding himself up for a better position.

You gripped onto his hand as he picked up the pace, his hand wrapping to hold yours as he let your legs fall to his sides and give you a sloppy kiss. The both of you moaned into each other as he slammed into your pussy.

You bounced roughly along with his hard long slams, you sunk into the cushions as his body weight had you caged under him “m- m- ah Miguel” you dumbly spoke.

Miguel chuckled in response, watching you already cock drunk by a few thrusts “I know baby, feels so good huh?” He cooed. You squeeze his hand harder as he hooked your legs around his waist, giving him more leeway to slam into you.

The couch was creaking loudly as he pounded you into oblivion, the noise complaints you’d be getting later this week were the least of your worries as both your moans filled the living room.

“F- feels so good mhm ah- fuck” Miguel panted as he felt you pulsing around him. You scratched at his thick arms that held you in place, your face turning into his bicep that was pressed besides you.

You moaned into him as your orgasm filled all of your senses, you shook uncontrollably under him as he angled his hips up, curving his cock perfectly inside you.

He felt himself dumbly smiling as he watched you squirm and gushing under him. He loved how fucking small you looked right now. Your pretty little face buried in his arm as he fucked your pussy like a madman. “So fucking pretty” he huffed as he felt himself twitch inside you, his moans filling your ears as he fucked his loads inside you.

You moaned at the feeling of everything, you were so overwhelmed by pleasure. His cock buried inside you, his pretty moans filling your ears, and his warm body pressed closely onto yours.

Miguel almost crushed you as he orgasmed but before he could, his arm quickly flipped you over. He sunk into the cushion as he placed you above him. Your head fell onto his chest as he grunted in bliss, cock still buried in you.

You let out a sigh of relief as he pulled out softly, his hands running over your skin as if you were made of glass. He made sure to be gentle as he sat up, his sweaty body pressed onto yours as his hand ran down your hair “you ok?” He cooed.

You nodded with a smile on your face, his hand lifting your face and kissing you softly “so much for chemistry”

#smut #marvel smut #kinktober #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara imagines #miguel ohara #miguel o hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut

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airbiscuitz · 21 days ago

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Partners in Crime

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

Summary: You and JJ Maybank agree to babysit a five-year-old boy for a week. What starts as calm beach walks and sweet movie nights quickly devolves into chaos, dirt bikes, chicken chases, and teasing about future parenthood.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Word count: 6k.

Warnings: None!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You didn’t expect your week to start with a phone call from your neighbor, Trish. Her voice had been panicked, fast, and full of too many apologies.

“I know it’s last minute, but I don’t have anyone else,” she said. “Can you watch Milo? Just for a week. I swear he’s not too much trouble.”

That’s how you found yourself babysitting a five-year-old with curls bigger than his head and an imagination even bigger than that. Trish dropped him off at your porch with a Star Wars backpack, a box of dinosaur fruit snacks, and a reminder that he liked cartoons more than real people.

You hadn’t even shut the door when JJ came bounding down the stairs from your bedroom, barefoot and shirtless, rubbing his eyes.

“Who’s the gremlin?” he asked, squinting at Milo.

Milo stuck out his tongue.

“Great,” you muttered. “They’re going to get along.”

---

You tried to be a good babysitter. Genuinely.

You packed juice boxes in a canvas bag and walked Milo along the shore barefoot, letting him collect broken shells and skip rocks. He asked a thousand questions about every hermit crab and seaweed clump you passed, and you answered with patience you didn’t even know you had.

“Do you think sharks ever get lonely?” he asked once, sitting on a washed-up log while seagulls screamed above.

You tucked his wild curls behind his ear and said, “I think even sharks like a good cuddle sometimes.”

Milo nodded like it was the wisest thing anyone ever said.

You and JJ took him to the little beachside theater, an old white building with peeling wood siding that played movies for free on weekends. Milo ate a popcorn bigger than his torso and spilled half of it into JJ’s lap. JJ didn’t even flinch, just whispered, “Nice,” like Milo had done something cool.

At night, you read bedtime stories while JJ made shadow puppets on the wall, making the kid laugh so hard he got the hiccups. You’d lean against the doorframe after lights out, watching JJ tuck Milo in, hearing them whisper about monster trucks and jellyfish.

You were trying. You were making it work.

But JJ?

JJ had other ideas.

On day three, you came downstairs to find JJ and Milo gone.

Vanished. Like ghosts.

Their shoes were gone. Milo’s backpack was gone. The only thing left was a note, written in JJ’s sloppy handwriting on a paper towel:

“Taking the kid for a spin. Don’t be mad. No helmets were harmed. –JJ :)”

You panicked. You called him. He didn’t answer.

An hour later, the two of them returned—covered in mud, twigs in their hair, and a suspicious feather sticking out of Milo’s back pocket.

“WHAT happened?” you asked, nearly choking on your own breath.

JJ grinned, unrepentant. “Taught him how to ride the dirt bike.”

You stared. “HE’S FIVE.”

“Five and a half,” Milo corrected proudly.

“And,” JJ added, slinging a dirty arm around Milo, “he chased a chicken. Ask Pope. It was majestic.”

You couldn’t believe it.

“You’re going to break him,” you scolded.

JJ smirked. “Relax, babe. He’s basically a mini Pogue now.”

Speaking of Milo being a mini Pogue based on JJ's knowledge. He, John B and Pope turned your backyard into a “Pogue Training Camp.”

There were obstacle courses made of driftwood, a “treasure hunt” that involved digging up JJ’s old sock, and watermelon-eating contests that ended with rinds being flung over the fence like frisbees.

You had to hose them down more than once.

You tried to set rules. Curfews. Screen time. Actual vegetables.

But JJ and Milo? They were partners in crime now.

When you came home from a grocery run and found them trying to build a zipline from the treehouse using nothing but fishing line and sheer delusion, you almost fainted.

“This is why we can’t have nice things,” you groaned, hands on your hips.

JJ just beamed, hands streaked with grease and leaves in his hair. “You say that, but look how happy he is.”

And he was.

Milo, cheeks flushed from excitement, hugged your legs like you were the best person in the world and said, “This is the most fun I’ve ever had!”

JJ winked behind him. You tried to be mad.

You failed.

Not when JJ picked up Milo effortlessly and carried him towards the dock to play with the water.

---

One night, you all sat around the firepit with marshmallows on sticks. Milo was half-asleep in JJ’s lap, chocolate on his cheeks, tiny fingers curled around JJ’s wrist.

John B nudged you with a smirk. “You two are gonna be great parents someday.”

You choked on your s’more. “Excuse me?”

Pope chuckled. “Seriously. You’re like the domestic dream. Beach walks, movie nights, homemade sandwiches... It’s kinda gross how perfect it is.”

JJ’s voice was soft. “You think so?”

You glanced at him, surprised. His expression was unreadable, eyes flickering from you to the firelight to Milo’s sleeping face.

John B snorted. “I give it two years max before you have a baby with sand in his diaper and attitude in his smile.”

You smacked his arm. “Shut up.”

But later that night, when you lay in bed beside JJ, he kissed your temple and whispered, “I wouldn’t mind it. Y’know. Someday.”

Your heart skipped. You didn’t say anything.

But you didn’t move away either.

That night you slept with a soft smile on your lips.

---

On the sixth day, your cousin Sadie came to visit, and the two of you decided to paint the outside of your little beach house. Just a refresh—some blue shutters, white trim.

It was peaceful. Relaxing, even.

Until chaos came thundering around the corner.

JJ and Milo returned from something, both of them covered in wet sand, slime-green paint smudged across JJ’s jeans, and Milo carrying a bucket full of hermit crabs.

You turned slowly. A quiet suspense creeping up on you.

“What... happened?” you asked, dread curling in your stomach.

JJ wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “Well, there was this tidepool. And then—listen—it’s not as bad as it looks—”

“JJ!”

Milo shrank behind his leg.

You dropped your paintbrush.

Sadie laughed under her breath. “You’ve got your hands full.”

You pointed at the porch.

“March. Both of you. Rinse off. Leave the crabs outside.”

JJ held up his hands. “Yes, ma’am.”

Milo saluted you. “Aye aye, captain!”

As they trailed off—JJ muttering something about “ungrateful babysitting gigs” and Milo asking if hermit crabs could live in the bathtub—you just shook your head.

Partners in crime.

Unbelievable.

On the final morning, Trish came to pick up Milo. He hugged you tight around the waist and gave JJ a high-five that turned into a secret handshake they must’ve been working on for days.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Milo mumbled into your shirt.

JJ crouched beside him, tousled his hair. “You better come back next summer. We still gotta finish building that tree fort.”

Milo sniffled. “Okay. Only if she comes too.”

“She’s stuck with me,” JJ said, looking up at you. “So yeah. She’ll be there.”

You swallowed around the lump in your throat and waved as Trish drove away, Milo’s little hand pressed against the window.

You turned to JJ, arms crossed. “So. Tree forts now?”

JJ grinned. “Gotta stay ready. You never know when chaos will come knocking again.”

He leaned in, arms wrapping around your waist, the salty wind tugging at your hair.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re such a menace.”

“But you love me,” he whispered.

You did.

Even if he was the reason you had to repaint half the siding. Twice.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #obx #outer banks #outer banks imagine #rudeth #rudy pankow #jj #jj maybank fluff

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conjureher · 2 months ago

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some clingy!tim drake for y'all! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ inspired by @sa1ntd1or's smau (definitely go check out her page, it's divine!) synopsis : rich kid and fat cat are fighting for your attention (it's brutal) 2.5k words | gen master.list

Timothy Jackson Drake has many enemies. It’s not unnatural for a guy in his position - that is, wandering around at night in red and black spandex - to have enemies, it’d actually be weirder if he didn’t. He’s fought countless villains, stopped a couple organizations from wrongdoing, and even had (and lost) a brutal fight with his younger brother.

But nothing, and he means nothing, could be more evil than your beloved white tabby that you’ve affectionately named ‘Chunky.’

It’s not like he was trying to become mutual mortal enemies with your cat! As a matter of fact, he’d been trying to get along with the feline in hopes it’d make you fall even more in love with him. He’s always been relatively good with animals. So why is it that your cat has a special hatred for him? He’s not sure.

THREE MONTHS AGO: FEBRUARY 14TH, A FRIDAY

“Okay, I swear you’re gonna love him!” you smile, taking your right hand from Tim’s so you can detach your keychain from your backpack, “He’s a total sweetheart! He loves everyone.”

Tim - whose previously free hands have now found the mini figurine attached to your bag zipper - is just as smiley as you are, "I hope so. I've never been so nervous to meet a cat of all things."

"Don't be nervous, it's just Chunky. He'll love you, and you'll love him," you reassure Tim with that voice he thinks is the most comforting. He loves it when you use that tone because for a moment he's actually convinced that everything will be alright. "It'd actually be kind of tragic if you didn't love each other. The two most important boys in my life hating each other, I'd be devastated.”

Finally unlocking your door, you take Tim’s hand in yours and push the door open ever so gently. “Chunky boy! Where are you silly?” you coo, your voice just a tad higher.

Tim waits expectantly, curiously peering over your shoulder hoping he can catch a glimpse of the esteemed kitty.

“Huh. He’s usually all over me as soon as the door opens,” you pull Tim in, dropping your keys into your little bowl full of trinkets, “Chunks?”

You shrug off your jacket and make Tim take off his shoes because he’s a heathen whose parents allowed him to run wild - not really.

Throwing your backpack onto your couch, you swivel your head in all sorts of directions hoping to catch a glimpse of Chunky. “I’m gonna look around for him. You can sit around the couch orrr help me."

"Nothing I love more than a good mystery," Tim says while checking under couch cushions - as if Chunky would be there. He's not trying to play - or so he says - he's just making sure he crosses off all possibilities.

You look in your room first. Chunky is always in your room, laying on your bed like he owns it or lounging on the carpet floor like he just got off of a 10-hour shift down at the factory. But, surprisingly, he's not there. He's not even in your closet or under your bed.

So, you get out your secret weapon: a cat feather toy you picked up for him when he was about 4 months old. It's his favorite toy that he can never resist, no matter how much of a grumpy mood he is in.

"Chunky!" You call, wiggling the cat toy just enough for it to make a little jingle noise - one that usually has him running to you for playtime. That's not the case this time. You don't even hear his little paws thumping on the ground, just silence and the sounds of Tim also looking for Chunky in the other room.

Speaking of Tim, you should see if he was lucky in his search for Chunky.

"Any sign of him?" You ask as you enter your living room, feathered toy still in hand.

"No. It should not be this hard to find a cat, man!" Tim sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Maybe you should feed him, see if that gets him out."

You nod, making your way to the kitchen. "He doesn't just eat dry food, so that sound alone isn't gonna make him come out. He doesn't come running until he hears me drum my fingers against the counter," you explain as you open the lid of your dry food container and then open the can of wet food - both high-quality brands because Chunky is spoiled and when you tried cheaper alternatives he refused to eat.

Tim nods along with your explanation, looking genuinely interested in your feeding regimen. You know he'll commit your routine to memory, so you continue; making sure to add the reasons why you do certain things because you know Tim will spend the time he should be using to sleep to question why you did a particular thing.

It's not long before you finish making Chunky's dinner, setting the cat's orange food bowl down before finally drumming your fingers against the countertop. You and Tim listen for any movement with bated breath.

Your hard efforts are rewarded with the softest meow in the world - to you at least. To Tim, Chunky’s meow sounds scratchy, but what does he know? Perhaps we should consider the possibility that Tim’s ears haven’t been cleaned in a hot minute.

“Chunky baby!” you exclaim, crouching down to pet your very sleepy-looking cat. His fur is sticking up in all sorts of directions and his eyes are barely open but he walks ever so gracefully towards his feeding bowl.

Tim swears he’s never seen a cuter cat than Chunky, scratchy meow aside, Chunky in all his chubby glory is undeniably cute. “I can see why you named him Chunky,” Tim teases, crouching down just as you have to pet the glorious cat.

“Stop! You’re gonna give him body image issues. And then I’d have to get him a cat therapist - are those even real?” you question, not even stopping your petting motions, “Like the secret life of pets! Yes, he’ll get a cat therapist for his insecurities and it’ll be YOUR fault!”

Tim rolls his eyes. He’s well used to your ridiculous (and kind of charming) humor. It had confused him when you both first met, sometimes he wasn’t sure if your jokes were real worries or fake. But he’s come to enjoy them, even if they’re sometimes a bit too goofy.

Ignoring your jokes, Tim tries to pet Chunky just as you are; but something strange happens. Something you’ve never seen happen before.

Chunky hisses at Tim. His mouth is full of food so it’s not as intimidating, but it’s still a hiss.

The noise makes Tim immediately retract his hand. “Uhhh? Has he ever done that before?”

You’re just as surprised as Tim. Chunky has never hissed before. “No? He’s never done this before! Not with me or anyone else?!”

You motion for Tim to back away and he does as told, you’re quick to check if Chunky is injured anywhere or if anything is off about him (other than his hissing).

You deduce that he simply may not like Tim. Which is heartbreaking.

“I think he just doesn’t like you… Tragic,” you explain, calmly taking Tim’s hand into your own and tugging him towards your couch.

Tim is less calm about the situation than you are. Your previous statement about how devastated you would be if they didn’t like each other had been occupying his mind since Chunky had hissed at him.

Before you knew it, Tim had gone down a spiral and began thinking about all of the terrible outcomes that came with him and Chunky not getting along: the absolute worst being you breaking up with him.

“Wallace and Gromit is a classic but Howl’s Moving Castle is entic-“ “Are you gonna break up with me?” Tim interrupts, a special sort of fear in his voice and a frantic look in his eyes.

“No? What makes you think that,” you ask, wildly confused as to what made Tim think otherwise.

“You- You said earlier that you’d be devastated! Now we both know your cat doesn’t like me and I’m just- I’m freaking out,” Tim blurts out.

It takes you a moment to process his words but when you do you laugh, just a little bit, a lot actually. The action confuses Tim, he's not sure why the possibility of you both breaking up is so funny.

“Tim- you...! You didn’t actually believe me, did you?” you laugh, clutching your stomach in hopes to lessen the pain you're receiving from laughing too much.

"Yes? I mean! You have been making this a huge deal for the past few months, of course, I'd be led to believe that!" Tim defends himself.

It takes you a while to calm down from your laughing fit, but when you do, you're quick to quell Tim's worries. "I'd never break up with you over something so silly. Like, yeah, I care about the people I love liking each other, but I don't think I'd break up with you if Chunky didn't like you," you say as you hug Tim, hoping the gesture is calming - it is, but Tim won't admit that.

"You're stuck with me forever," you tease.

"Thank god," Tim groans, stuffing his face into the crook of your neck.

You know, Tim really wouldn't mind being in your presence for the rest of his life. He's lost so many people, it'd be nice to experience something more infinite, and permanent instead of abandonment. He's glad he can spend something so finite as life with you.

Tim is not a man prone to jealousy. Well, unless it’s you, then yeah he’s gonna get a little jealous.

Not important! What is important, however, is how you’ve not even glanced at him this entire evening!

Your attention is being hogged by your devil cat! And Tim swears Chunky knows what he’s doing.

Don’t think he didn’t catch that sly smile Chunky had on when he’d first successfully taken your attention off of Tim. And the countless other times Tim has caught Chunky wearing smiles that scream two words: “I win.” Tim has seen Chunky staring off into space with a facial expression that shouts "I am up to no good and it's Tim Drake's fault," more times than he can realistically count. That last offense is less likely to be used as proof because, well, what if Chunky just has an unintentionally mischievous looking face when he's paying attention to nothing in particular? He knows a few people like that... He can't say much.

Tim is not crazy - he has papers to prove it! So, Timothy Jackson Drake, a completely sane man, can confidently say that he and your cat are in a mutual metaphorical fight for your undivided attention.

And he’s kind of losing.

“You’re cuddling that cat more than me!” Tim whines from his spot on the couch, which, realistically, isn’t that far from you, but to Tim, it feels like he’s light years away, “This is betrayal at its finest!”

“Not even,” you giggle, not even glancing at him because you’re too busy squishing your cat.

“Look!” you push Chunks into Tim’s face, “he meows!”

As if on cue, Chunky lets out the sweetest meow that’d charm even the hardest of criminals, but not Tim. “Awww my little baby,” you smile, pulling the cat into a hug that Tim should be experiencing, not Chunky.

And Tim scoffs. He can’t believe this; his partner is being STOLEN by a cat in real time! He cannot let this happen. He’s worked too hard for too long to woo you into a relationship!

He cannot be bested by a cat. So, he does the thing he’s best at: flirting — or, well, attempts at flirting that someone not in love would think are a bit deranged and desperate. Perfect for Tim because he is, in fact, deranged and desperate and you, perfect you, encourage his weirdness.

“I can meow too!.. if it gets your attention,” Tim says, smoothly removing Chunky from your lap to the floor and taking what once was the cat’s spot on your chest.

“Please don’t,” you cringe, running your hands through Tim’s hair. You swear you can hear Tim start purring as you scratch his scalp, fingers nimbly gliding over his head.

“Just say you hate me and want me to die.”

“You’re literally on top of me right now,. I don’t grant that privilege to just anyone.”

“Good,” Tim hums.

You know, Death Cat aside, Tim thinks you guys will be okay. Scratch that. More than “okay.” You’ll be the best couple ever.

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ bonus material ruh roh

"Chunky, please. Please, man, I'm begging you! Please Chunky bro."

"mrow."

"Chunky, I've had a long night and all I wanna do is sleep NEXT to MY partner!" Tim whines, his voice barely above a whisper.

You're sound asleep with Chunky lying beside you - in Tim's spot, where Tim sleeps almost every night - and the damned cat is showing zero signs of moving within the next 10 minutes.

"Chunky, man please! I'm tired, you're tired, we're both freaking tired so just let me lay down," Tim says as he makes lazy attempts to scoot Chunks more towards your side; his attempts are met with less-than-lazy clawed swats.

"Fine! You win, you devil cat."

—

You awoke to the familiar screech of your cat begging for his morning meal and the lack of weight on your boyfriend's side of the bed. "Chunky baby... gimme a moment."

Chunky screaming means it's about 6:00 a.m., which means it must've been about 2 hours since Tim got back. You feel around your bedsheets and blankets for the aforementioned boy but you're unlucky in your pursuit.

So, you get up; eyes a little blurry and mind still jumbled from a post-sleep haze. "Tim?" you call, voice groggy and a tad deeper than it usually is.

"'m over here honey," Tim groans, "Chunky didn't let me on the bed"

The sentence wakes you up immediately. "What?" Shoving off your blankets and shuffling over to his side of the bed - or his side of the floor, really.

"Awww Tim! You didn't have to sleep on the floor," you giggle, "You could've just moved him!"

"He's too fat," Tim says with the most deadpan voice he can muster, the one he knows makes you giggle because he's being ridiculously serious.

You gasp, holding your hand to your chest like Tim's statement was a serious offense (it kind of was). "He is NOT fat! He's just... a bit chubby!"

Tim snorts, "You keep telling yourself that. Can I sleep on my bed now?"

"Uh uh, mister! You've committed a serious offense! I ought to call Batman over here and arrest you himself, criminal!" You tease, wagging your finger in Tim's face.

"Ohhh I'm so scared," Tim laughs, pulling you into the sweetest kiss ever. Before you even know it, he's already on the bed and you're both practically glued to each other. Not even Chunky could get you two to separate - mostly because you were both sleepy.

It's moments like these that make you realize that you really really love your boyfriend.

"You know, Chunky still hasn't been fed."

"He can wait a bit, can't he?"

SAM SPEAKS : first fic... ruh roh. i got carried away. ts was supposed to be only 300 words MAX 😭🙏. most of this fic is just me describing how i feed my cats, and how i act with my cats. yes, i do drum my fingers against a surface before i feed them (usually the lid of the box we keep the dry food in). anyways i've been wildly distracted lately by pictures of borzoi's. freaky looking dogs, but i love them so so much. ﹗I do not consent to my work being translated or reposted on any other accounts or websites. thank you for understanding <3

#tim drake #detective comics #dc comics #x reader #reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader #tim drake x reader #beefing with cats... someone come get this guy #conjureher : detective comics/timdrake

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