#Almost exactly a year ago... o(-(

[royalarchivist]

Richarlyson: I will do not say why I learned mimimum spanish at all

Richarlyson: two possible reasons. I am wanted in 3 countries, I read fanfiction

Richarlyson: you can chose

Jaiden: [Laughs]

[tcmmysheiby]

oh, loverboy - dbf!joel miller

authors note - listen, i love myself some pedro pascal but game!joel?? another level for me, ok. you can picture with either game!joel or show!joel, you do you. i haven't written in five years and i have come out of writing retirement just for this man. pls be kind to me!! any feedback is appreciated, especially as this is my first smut in so long and i'm used to writing about peaky blinders boys! feel free to send me asks, requests, whatever whatever u want

warnings - dbf!joel, afab, reader described as wearing a dress, dry humping, cheating (joel is married!!), joel takes readers underwear, reader is v horny and shameless about it, facesitting/riding (aka reader would kill joel irl), lots of dirty talk, pussy pronouns, brief female masturbation and brief mention of male masturbation, dryer is in the kitchen cause i'm british ok!!!, slight cum play but not really, use of the word slut, joel gets off on having just hair pulled at js, somewhat switch!joel towards the end but maybe not idk, semi-public sex, office sex, age gap (20 years, the rest is down to you)

word count - 8k.

You knew it was wrong to be besotted with your parent’s best friend, especially when he was a married man but how could you resist? Joel Miller did nothing to help your cause. 

He was polite, handsome and always walked around like he oozed confidence and could do whatever he wanted and no one would bat an eyelid.  His smile was enough to have you clenching your thighs during family meals and your fingers stuffed deep in your pussy the very same night as you dreamed of what else that mouth could do. It was a long, tortuous, heavenly roundabout that you were stuck on and frankly, you didn’t want to get off. 

What did you do in a previous life to deserve this? Why couldn’t you have met Joel in another life? A life where Joel and your dad didn’t meet every Saturday night to play card games and drink beer whilst discussing the latest game. A life where your mother and Joel’s wife, Charlotte, didn’t have spa nights and drink cheap fruity wine they got from the local store. You deserved more, you deserved better, you deserved Joel. 

You have been so good. You’d resisted him for years. You’d perfected your best, fake smile during every anniversary dinner, congratulated them as they announced the renewal of their vows, you’d helped his wife pick out her wedding dress alongside your mother, you’d done everything you were meant to do. When was it your turn? 

“What you thinkin’ bout, girl?” 

You dragged your eyes away from the kitchen window and over to Joel who stood in the doorway, halfway to the fridge before he stopped. How long had you been staring out the window at him? You had only come in here to check on your laundry, how long ago was that? Were you going crazy? 

“Nothin’, Joel,” you said softly, quickly glancing down at the dryer, only a few minutes left. “You and my dad havin’ a good time?” 

You nodded out the window and towards the car that Joel and your dad had been working on for almost six months now, they never seemed to get any further with their latest mechanical mission. On the lawn next to the drive sat your mother and Charlotte, both of them engrossed in conversation as they sipped on lemonade whilst basking in the Austin summer heat. You didn’t hate Charlotte exactly but you envied her and you didn’t know what was worse. You envied her pretty flowery dresses and long curled hair that always look elegant, her fingernails which were always painted a pretty light blue colour and perfectly maintained, envied the fact she slept next to Joel every night and probably didn’t realise how lucky she was. God, maybe you did hate her. 

“Be havin’ a damn better time when I don’t have to look at that car again, swear your dad buys the stupidest shit going,” he scoffed before opening the fridge and pulling out two beers, eyeing up the cheap brand your father had purchased. Joel then turned towards you, “Looks like something’s on your mind - “ he paused before the slight graze of a smirk morphed on his luscious face. “Or someone?” 

It was your turn to scoff, only yours came out uncomfortably loud. “N’ what’s that meant to mean?” 

“C’mon, charmin’ girl like you must have someone by now,” Joel questioned, an eyebrow arched as he stared over at you. Was he moving closer to you? No, it was your imagination. “Not seen ya’ with anyone since that lil boy you had back when you were twenty, what a fool he turned out to be.”

Yeah, a fool indeed. What a waste of time he turned out to be. 

“Tell me about it.”

“Nobody then?” Joel was definitely closer. Could your laundry please hurry up?

You took a quick look  at him briefly before smiling and shaking your head. You turned back towards the window, your back to him now. “We all ain’t lucky to be loved up like you, Joel. Boys my age, well…” 

“What’s wrong with 'em’, sweetheart? That guy turned you off men completely, huh?” 

“Well, they just ain’t my type, Mr. Miller…” You trailed off, you hadn’t called him that in many years. “I like men that are a bit older, ya know?” 

As soon as you finished your sentence, you felt Joel's presence behind you. 

This is what happened between the two of you. Nothing out of turn was ever said but there was a tension, an indescribable sends-you-crazy in the middle of the night, tension. You were adamant it was just you being delusional. You were twenty-years younger than Joel, he would never have any interest in you that way. Plus, your parents were his best friends. Oh, and he was married.

Were you some infatuated young woman who just couldn’t stop fantasising about her dad’s hot best friend? This was more than a fantasy though, this had been going on years. You’d spent endless nights with your hand tucked in between your thighs as you thought dirty things about him. Had mastered every excuse going as to why you couldn’t attend any of the Miller’s functions that Charlotte insisted on throwing. 

“Older?” Joel leaned across you to grab the bottle opener. Of all the places for your father to have left it, why did you have to be in front of it? You got a whiff of his aftershave and almost fell to your knees there. “What makes you like older men so much, huh?” 

“Just somethin’ about them, somethin’ special, somethin’ that makes me feel a lil’ bit naughty, you know?” What were you doing? Words came out of your mouth before you could even process what you were going to say. Joel being behind you, his arm brushing past your waist as he brought the bottle opener towards him. It was all too much, you couldn’t stop rambling but he looked so good, black t-shirt so tight and jeans fitting in all the right places. Did she tell him how good he looked all the time? “They got more experience, more knowledge, and know how to treat a lady right. Boys my age, they don’t know what they doin’. Boys at college showed me that, that’s why i’m wantin’ an older man, ya know? Want someone who ain’t gonna mess me around or throw me to side when someone prettier comes along.” 

“These city boys stupid if they throwin’ you to the side baby,” Joel purred, his breath hot on your neck. He looked down at you from where he stood, trying his hardest not to stare down your shirt. You always made it so difficult for him. “You have many boys in college?” 

Joel moved to your side and faced away from the window. He stared straight ahead as he placed one of the beer bottles down and brought the other to his lips. You stared directly at his wife as you tried not to imagine her husband bending you over the counter, dropping to his knees and using his mouth to eat your pussy from the back. She had no idea as she giggled alongside your mother, had no idea of the thoughts that had ruined your brain since hormones came to play. 

“They wanted me, I didn’t always give them the same attention back.” 

You took a step back at the sound of the dryer beeping, finally. You grabbed the washing basket you had discarded to the side and lowered yourself to both knees as you emptied your load of dry, clean washing into it. Maybe this wasn’t the best position to be in considering you only had to glance slightly to your right and make eye contact with Joel’s bulge. You weren't straining your back for no-one though. 

You felt your heart drop as Joel crouched down to your level besides you. The two of you were no longer in view of the window, nor the front door if anyone was to walk in. This felt wildly inappropriate, you loved it. You just silently prayed that Joel felt the same gravitational pull as you did. 

It all seemed different. You’d had these conversations before, sometimes there had been flirtatious comments but Joel was a tease, could flirt with a lamp post if he really tried hard enough. There was something about the way he was looking at you now, almost as if there was resistance there. Like he was trying to resist you. 

“Older men won’t always treat you well,” he rasped, training his eyes to stay level with yours and not fall below your neckline. Your little white tank top doing nothing to hide your chest, it seemed you had skipped wearing anything underneath.  Such a tease, he thought. “Young pretty thing like you wanting a bit of them? C’mon now, you can’t handle no-one your own age, let alone someone twenty  years older than you.” 

There was a taunting smile on his face. Your heart began to thump under the thin material of your vest as you looked at him, not paying attention to the clothing in your hands. His head tilted to the side slightly as he eyed you up, waiting for you to respond. 

“You are twenty years older than me,” you whispered out loud before you could stop yourself.  “Do you think I couldn’t handle ya?” 

Joel shook his head and sniggered slightly. “I know you couldn’t handle me baby, ain’t no shame in that.” 

“Why don’t you give me the chance to prove you - “ 

“I’ll have these.” The words were spoken and an item of clothing was stolen from your hands before you could finish your sentence . You suddenly felt tiny as Joel stood up. You looked up at him, eyes wide and mouth open as you watched him hold your pink, lace panties in his hand. “I’d prefer them used but this will do.” You kneeled with your mouth open, unable to make any argument back. Joel looked down at you before he bent over slightly to grab your jaw. You whimpered pathetically at the action and a wide shit-eating grin was on Joel’s within seconds of you making the sound. “Goodbye sweet girl.” 

“Joel - “ 

“Goodbye sweet girl,” he repeated sternly, his eyes lingering on yours as he stood up straight and walked out of the kitchen, your panties stuffed in his back pocket and both bottles of beer in his hands. 

----

You were a fool. A big fool. 

As soon as Joel had gone, you were running upstairs into your room where you slammed the door shut and threw yourself down on the bed. It had never gone that far before. He’d taken your panties - your favourite but you’d let that slide. Your mind was clogged with thoughts of him with your panties wrapped around his cock as he edged himself over and over again. His hand pressed against the locked door of the bathroom he shared with his wife. He wouldn’t be thinking about her though, no, his mind would be flooded with filthy images of you doing the stuff his wife wouldn’t do for him, you bent over wherever he wanted, his cock stuffed wherever he wanted, your mouth wide open and pussy sopping for him. You wanted them back, covered in his cum and filth, his scent embedded in the material. He was making you feral, the panties you were currently wearing already so soaked.

He wanted them used? Well, he’d get them used. 

“Fuck,” you breathed out, your right index and middle finger slowly massaging your clit. 

It was the same routine almost nightly. The moment your fingers touched your clit, dirty thoughts of Joel would arise in your brain. You wanted every inch of him, wanted his fingers rubbing delicate circles on your clit rather than your own, wanted his tongue lapping you up as he slowly slipped his large fingers inside of you, slowly but surely bringing you to the edge over and over and over again. 

You felt restricted by the panties you were wearing but you needed them soaked. Needed Joel to have one smell of the fabric and go mad with lust, unable to control himself to the point he tugs his cock out wherever he is and strokes and strokes until he’s coming so hard that the only thing he can purr is your name over and over again. You were so mad for this man, you needed him to be the same back. 

This is what you were put on this planet for. You were made to make Joel miller go crazy at the scent of a younger woman. 

You rubbed your clit harder as you arched your back, mumbling his name repeatedly until it was the only thing you could do. Your legs spread wider as your eyes fluttered open and shut, the room blurring as you felt the pressure grow in your lower abdomen. 

You always came quick when you thought of Joel but this, this was humiliating. 

As your orgasm washed through you, all you could do was concentrate on Joel’s voice. I know you couldn’t handle me, baby. You could, you knew you could. You could hear the disgustingly beautiful words that he would speak to you as he thrusted his cock in and out of you, the delicious stretch as he split you open and opened your legs wider than you ever could yourself. 

“Oh fuck, Joel, Joel - “ you stuttered shakily, your orgasm sending shockwaves through your body. You tightened your legs around your hand that was still rubbing your clit and your back arched off the bed, the sound of his name on the tip of your tongue as you slowly came down. 

You needed him. You were going to have him. 

You spent the next few moments trying to gather your thoughts and talk yourself out of making a bad decision. This could ruin your life and your relationship with your parents but most importantly, it could ruin everything with Joel. Not just the sexual stuff either. Being able to have someone to call in the middle of the night when you were stranded at a party and too frightened to call your mother, the memory of having your first sip of alcohol with Joel when you were eighteen, the way that he would smile sweetly to you whenever he saw you unloading groceries from your mothers car. It would all be ruined, gone. A new, uncertain, dangerous territory would arise and you would be stuck there, unable to go back on what you have done. But you wanted this more than anything, had dreamed about this endless time. If you could only have him for one night, then one night it would be. 

Before you could talk yourself out of anything, you jumped off the bed and ignored the pulsing feeling in your pussy. You reached over to the freshly washed laundry and grabbed a hoodie and a pair of leggings. As tempting as it was to walk down the stairs in nothing but your soaked underwear and an oversized t-shirt, have Joel peel them from your body before taking you over to the dining room table and fucking you, you had to have some class about you. 

The sound of your parents and Charlotte could be heard from your bedroom, they must have come in at some point but you were sure they hadn’t heard you. You listened out for Joel’s voice or laughter but heard nothing.. A part of you hoped he’d rushed off home to fuck himself with your panties. You bounded down the stairs with a skip in your step, excited for what was to come.

“Where’s Joel?” you asked as you came into the kitchen, voice laced with fake innocence as you smiled sweetly at the three of them around the dining room table. Your used panties hidden in the pocket of your hoodie. 

“Garage,” Charlotte answered. “Everything okay? Anything I can help you with?” 

Absolutely not. 

“Yeah, I just need to ask him something about Sarah.” 

“Before you go,” your mother started, stopping you as you made a rush for the front door. She showed you her laptop screen, a stunning spa resort on the screen. Nice. “Me and Charlotte were thinking about booking a weekend away at the end of summer, are you interested in coming?” 

“You really should,” Charlotte answered, not giving you a chance to oppose the situation. “I could always see if Sarah is free to come along with us so you’re not stuck with us the whole time.” 

You shrugged your shoulders and glanced towards the garage door through the kitchen window. Could you really be in close proximity to Charlotte for a full weekend? Especially considering what you were about to do. 

“I’ll think about it,” you answered with a smile, hoping it would be enough to satisfy them. “Anyways, bye.” 

You rushed out the front door and over to the garage before they could say anything else. As you reached the door, you caught a glimpse of Joel around the corner, your heart skipping a beat as you stared at him. He was so pretty, years of labour engrained on his face but he wore it so well. His hair was messy after spending hours running his fingers through it, most likely at annoyance towards your father for buying another car that didn’t run. His beard was unruly and all you could picture was the feeling of the coarse hair running along the inside of your thighs and leaving red marks in its wake. 

You coughed loudly and caught his attention. He turned around slowly, already trying to fight an erection at the sight of you and a seductive smile. “I want my panties back, Joel,” you began. You wanted to move closer, run your hand up his chest and grab the curls at the back of his neck but you maintain your dignity, for now. “They’re my favourite pair.”

Joel tutted and shook his head.“Not happenin’, darlin. They are mine now.” He threw the rag he had in his hand on the work bench behind him, eyes not leaving yours for even the briefest of seconds.

“But what if I give you something better?” You slowly stalked over to Joel and pressed your body up close towards him and fought the urge to not stare up at him. “Somethin’ so much better.” 

Joel watched with hooded eyes as you reached in between your bodies, your hand accidentally grazing his lower belly. He took in a deep breath and clenched his fists. He was struggling as much as you and you loved every moment. 

“You filthy girl,” Joel chuckled darkly, the sight of your panties having his cock rock hard against the rough denim material of his jeans. He was fucked. He took them from your hand and admired them with a glimmer of humour in his eyes but there was something darker there, almost worrying. He fondled with the material, his rough finger moving along the crotch and he audibly moaned when he felt the wetness.  “These are still wet, baby. What you been doin’ up those stairs, huh?” 

You tilted your head to the side and grinned. “You wanna’ know?” You asked, so sweet and sexy that the way you spoke went straight to Joel’s cock. You ran your hand up Joel’s chest and over his neck before pressing the two fingers you’d used to get yourself off against his plump lips.  “You can have a taste if you wanna’.” 

“Pretty girl - “ he purred, unable to finish his sentence as you pressed your fingers into his mouth. “Dirty girl,” he finished, his mouth enclosing around your fingers as he took in the faint taste of your previous orgasm. His large hand wrapped around your wrist, keeping you in place whilst he stared down at you with a fire in his eyes that you’d never seen before. He popped your fingers out of his mouth, “Always knew you were a fuckin’ slut for me.” 

You stood up on your tippy-toes as you attempted to capture Joel’s mouth with your own but he pushed you back, enough to make you stumble back into the bonnet of the car that Joel and your father had been working on. 

“Please, Joel,” you whimpered, sounding more pathetic than you normally did when you were around him - you wanted something to happen when you passed him your wet panties but this, well this was something else. You watched him as he walked over to you, an internal battle playing out in his head but he knew which side of him would win. You reached out for him as he got closer but he gently slapped your hands away. “I’m not a slut, i - “

“Ya  think I don’t notice the way you suddenly become a slut whenever I’m around? How I’ll walk into your house and you’ll be dressed in jeans and a shirt and within five minutes, suddenly you’ve got on them lil’ pyjama shorts with the frills on the bottom and an even littler tank top that you should be fuckin’ ashamed to be wearing around your parents,” he spat. He stood directly in front of you, one large hand reaching out to lay flat against your stomach as he pushed you further against the bonnet until you were practically laid flat against it, your elbows the only thing keeping you slightly sat up. “But you ain’t ashamed. You fuckin’ love it. Love knowing that my cock’s damn near bustin’ out my jeans all night, don’t ya?” 

“I didn’t know, Joel - “ You knew. 

“Didn’t know? See, you’re a liar as well as fuckin’ slut. You think you deserve my cock?” 

“Yes, please,” you moaned loudly without any shame. No concern for the three people not that fat from you. You were fucked if anyone was to come into the garden. Due to the placement of the work bench, you were thankfully out of sight of the house. 

“Why?” he asked, his hand running up and down your stomach delicately. 

“I’ve been so patient, Joel. It’s been torture, knowin’ you going back to her and fuckin’ her when it should be me you fuckin’,” you cried out, your eyes watering with desperation. “Don’t you think I deserve ya cock? I’ve been good, I promise. I gave  ya’ my used panties. Made myself come whilst wearin’ them, just for you, thought of you, I promise.” 

Before you could begin to process your actions, you grabbed Joel’s hand and moved it further down so it was situated in between your thighs. You had ‘forgotten’ panties and with your previous encounter with Joel, your orgasm and this current situation, you were dripping all the way down to the seam of your leggings. 

“Can you feel it, Joel?” you asked, voice soft and quiet. “Can ya’ feel how wet I am for you?” 

Joel moaned lowly as he slowly moved his fingers along your clothed pussy, the material from the leggings adding an extra layer of pleasure. You were already so sensitive still from your previous orgasm but you weren't going to back out of this. 

“I feel it, baby,” he grunted. “Fuck, ya’ so beautiful, so wet, I ain’t got no choice but to fuck ya’, have I?” Removing his hand, Joel placed both of his hands on each side of your inner thigh and split your legs apart so you were fully spread out for him. The action caused you to fall flat onto your back and you attempted to open your legs even wider for him. “That’s it, good girl.” 

Joel took one large step until he was situated between your thighs. His hands reached up to grab your waist and he moved your body down until you were pressed against his bulge, his hard cock pressing directly onto your clothed pussy. His hands tightened around you as he slowly rubbed his cock against you, his eyes fluttering shut with ecstasy. 

Joel felt so wrong. If someone was to walk into the garage and see the scene in front of them then Joel would be leaving yours with a black eye but how was he able to resist such a beautiful woman who was equally as desperate as him? He’d tried so hard to resist you, spent the last few years trying to purposely avoid you but there were times when he couldn’t, and he couldn’t even count the amount of times on one hand that he had to rush off to your parent’s bathroom and stroke his cock until he finally saw sense. This was his best friend's daughter, this was you. Not some random girl in a club that just wanted a quick fuck. This was quiet, pretty, sweet you. He didn’t even want to think about his wife who was blissfully unaware of his sinful thoughts, especially didn’t want to think about her when your hips were moving and creating more pressure on his cock. 

“Want more, Joel,” you whispered, eyes shut as you continued to grind along his cock. You definitely looked a mess but Joel didn’t seem to care, not when his hands left your waist and he let you take control. “Cock feels so big, bet it feels even bigger deep inside of me.” 

Within seconds, you were flung around so you were now bent over the bonnet, your legs dangling over the edge. Joel’s hands were on your waist again as dragged you back so your back was perfectly arched for him and arse up in the air for him to admire. His cock pressed against you as he shamelessly rutted his hips into you, allowing the sensation to go straight to his cock - and head. 

“Pretty fuckin girl’, told you earlier that you wouldn’t be able to handle my cock,” he moaned, one hand moving down to squeeze the flesh of your ass. There was nothing delicate about the touch, you didn’t mind. “But like I said, gonna have to fuck ya’, aren’t I? Wouldn't be fair of me to let you carry on like this, so desperate and horny for an old man’s cock that you gotta’ stuff your fingers inside your pussy every goddamn time I’ve been in the same room as ya’.”  

You’ve never seen Joel this desperate, all fury and hormones as he rubbed himself against your ass, almost as if you weren't there. You could do nothing but grind your hips up against him, waiting and anticipating and his animalistic nature took over. He messily fucked his cock against you, whispering sweet nothings out loud as the usual authoritative Joel slips away. His eyebrows dipped as his orgasm approached and suddenly, he felt like an eighteen year old boy again. He was no better than those college boys you bitched about. He wasn’t going to come in his pants at the feeling of your ass pressed against his cock and he certainly wasn’t going to sit next to his wife on the drive home and pretend that he didn’t just get himself off using your body. 

“No, no, no, where you goin’, Joel?” you whimpered as you felt the loss of his body against yours. You turned your head around and reached for him, only for him to shake his head as a warning. If you touched him, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. “Want you to come, need you to come, please, I’m so desperate, please. Can fuck my throat, please - “ 

“Shut up,” Joel snapped, taking a few steps back as he eyed you down like you were his prey. “If I only get to fuck you once, then it ain’t being like this, you understand? Plus baby, your parent’s are in the house, my fuckin’ wife is in the house. Need to be careful if we gonna’ do this, shouldn’t even be doin’ it but fuck, you right girl, you waited long enough, ain’t ya’?” 

You nodded pathetically as you stood up straight. “So long.” You were no longer the woman that walked into the garage and made Joel suck on her fingers. You were weak, desperate and a horny pathetic mess. Frankly, you didn’t care slightly about the people inside the house, not when you could see how hard his cock was. 

“I need to go by my office tonight and pick up some paperwork.” Joel stated, not looking anywhere else but at you. His cock was throbbing in his briefs, begging to be released and forced inside your tight, warm pussy but Joel needed to wait. He couldn’t do this here - couldn’t risk his wife or your parent’s walking in despite how badly he wanted to bend you over the stupid car. “You’ll be there, won’t ya’?” 

Again, you nodded pathetically. “I’ll be there.” 

“Wear a pretty dress, or skirt, yeah?” The sound of Charlotte's voice reached both of you at the same time and you took note of the way Joel grimaced - he wasn’t ready for this to be over yet. He was already counting down the hours until he could help you get over your need for his cock. “No panties either and I’m keeping these.” 

----

When you had woken up that morning, you hadn’t expected that this is where you would be but here you were, standing outside Joel’s office feeling like nothing but an idiot. You looked down at the dress you’d put on just for him, a pretty pink off-the-shoulder flowery summer dress, you looked cute, irresistible. 

You stepped inside, knowing the way to go from your previous visits with your father. Those times had been innocent, you’d sat in Joel’s office whilst him and your dad discussed whatever business they needed to talk about. This time was  different. You felt so anxious as you approached the office door - not bothering to knock as it was already slightly open. You had a plan to open the door slowly and say something that would have him dragging you over to the desk but you didn’t get a chance. Before you could say anything, his voice was ringing through the room. 

“Take your dress off for me.” 

You stood still in the doorway to his shared office with Tommy as silence occupied the room you were in. Not even a hello, straight to the point. Joel faced away from you as he flicked through some paperwork that was untidily placed over the desk, could he feel how desperate you were for him? 

“What if I say no?” you fire back, your tone of voice playful. 

Despite your voice showing some confidence, you could feel yourself getting smaller under the harsh gaze of Joel as he turned back to look at you briefly. The glance only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough to let you know he wasn’t down to play your games anymore. Joel turned back towards the paperwork and sighed loudly enough for you to hear it from the other side of the room. Was his cock aching at the thought of having you? 

“Ya’ think you’re so cute, don’t you?” Joel asked rhetorically. “Did you listen to what I said earlier on? Did you wear your panties or nah?” 

You shook your head even though he couldn’t see you. “I listened to what you said, Joel. Behaved myself. I’m not wearing anything underneath this dress.” 

“So do as you're told and take that dress off before I have to come over there and do something about it, understood?” Tempting. You watched as Joel strolled casually over to a sofa besides his desk. He looked at you properly for the first time and his cock hardened at the sight of you. “We shouldn’t be doing this, you know that.” 

“I know,” you said softly with a shrug of your shoulders. “But I kinda’ don’t care.” 

Joel stifled a laugh. “Me neither, baby.” He raised one eyebrow and nodded towards your dress, encouraging you to finally free yourself of the loose clothing which felt like it was stuck to your body. 

Standing at a distance from Joel, you allowed the dress to slip from your body until it fell lightly to the floor. You were completely naked for him, body bare and on show. Goosebumps arose on your skin as you watched him take every inch of you in, his eyes slowly trailing over your collarbones, down to your breasts where the nipples had peaked due to the cool air, down your soft belly which was gagging to be covered in his kisses, and finally your pussy. If he was any closer, he would be able to see the glistening in between your legs. 

“You think she’s ready for me?” 

“She?” you asked with a confused expression etched onto your face. 

“Your pussy, baby,” Joel cooed, his voice soft and loving. “God, you can be so innocent when you wanna’ be. Come over here, wanna see all of you.” 

You gulped as you walked over to him slowly, suddenly feeling anxious at the feeling of his eyes roaming over your body. He looked so hungry for you with his right hand rubbing against the growing bulge in his jeans. So pretty, you thought to yourself. 

When you finally stood in front of him, you looked everywhere but down at the fact that had ruined your dreams since you could remember. Maybe this was wrong but it felt so right at the moment. 

“I can see she’s ready, she’s so wet for me already,” Joel said, his large palms coming to lay on the back of your thighs. You shuffled forward slightly until his face was in direct view with your soft belly. Joel leaned slightly forward and placed one chaste kiss directly above your belly button. As you looked down, Joel looked up and the two of you were silent for a brief moment, just staring at each other and waiting for one to back out but when neither of you spoke out against what you were about to do, Joel continued on. “When we got this office, Tommy brought some dumb shit for it. Told him we’d never need a sofa in here but I’m starting to think that maybe it wasn’t a bad purchase at all.” 

“Why’s that, Joel?” 

“Because imma’ eat your pussy on it.” He said the words so casually that you almost fell to your knees there. “Bet you’d look so pretty with your thighs on either side of my face.” 

“Joel,” you hummed, hands automatically coming out to thread in his thick hair. A soft moan came through Joel at the action.

“What do you want, pretty girl?” 

“Please.” 

Joel gracefully pulled you down so you were straddling his lap, his large hands roaming along the skin on your back as he admired you. “So beautiful,” he mumbled, mouth pressed along the base of your neck. “Wanna mark you up so bad. Fuck if you were ten years older, not my bestfriends daughter and I weren’t married, I’d do such bad things to you, fuck you full of my cum till I was leaking outta’ ya’ for days.” 

“Can’t, I wish you could, more than you’ll ever know,” you whined, fingers gripping his head as the flurry of kisses along your neck went straight to the fire in your loins. “But you can do what ya’ said before.” 

“Tell me what you want me to do, wanna’ hear them dirty words come from that sweet mouth of yours.” 

“Want you to eat my pussy, Joel. Please.” 

Joel grunted before taking a hold of your body and shuffling you around on the sofa until he was laid flat and you were straddling his waist. Joel looked as desperate as you as he thrusted his hips up, shuffling you slightly along his body. 

“Come on then, I’m waiting for her. Been waitin’ on her for far too long.” 

Joel grinned widely, excited at the prospect of having his best friend's daughter come all over his tongue. Joel was obviously lying if he said that he hadn’t thought about this before but they were just taboo thoughts that he had, nothing serious, everyone fantasised, right? He almost felt ashamed when he left your parents house only hours before, cock still hard and leaking in his boxers as he pictured you spread across your fathers car. He tried to make conversation with Charlotte on the way back home but it was physically impossible, his mind clouded with the memory of you bent over your dads precious project with your ass in the air, basically inviting him in. But he felt no shame now. Not with you, straddling him and looking down at him with an anxious, but compliant, smile on your face - he was completely and utterly fucked. 

“Happily, Mr. Miller.”

You sensually moved your body further up his, pausing briefly to place your thumb against Joel’s mouth. You dragged his bottom lip down as you smiled down at him sweetly, the memories of your fingers in Joel’s mouth as he sucked them clean had you throbbing onto his t-shirt, sure to leave a stain in its wake. Before you could go any further, Joel gently wrapped a hand around your wrist. 

“Up here, now. You know what to do, doll.”

Smiling, you placed both of your hands against the arm of the sofa that was behind Joel’s head and lifted your body up so that you could move until you were hovering above his face. You’d never done this before. Sure, you’d had someone go down on you but never like this, never so intimate and never whilst you had been this wet. Joel was in no rush though as you hesitated above him. He would never force you to do anything that you didn’t want to do and he understood that you were most likely nervous - you was fucking your father’s best friend after all. The sight he had wasn’t too bad either, your pussy soaking and dripping just for him. So close to his mouth.  After some hesitation, Joel came to the conclusion that he couldn’t look at your sweet cunt for any longer and do nothing about it. 

Both of his strong hands gripped onto your thighs as he brought you down to his face and delved in, a moan coming from both of you as his tongue immediately started to lick along your clit in a teasing manner. You lurched forward at the sensation, your hands gripping onto the sofa with a tighter grip. 

“Oh, that feels so good,” you cried out, one hand leaving the sofa to grab his locks. “Don’t stop, please, please don’t stop.” 

Joel wrapped his mouth around your clit as he gently moved his head from side-to-side, he would keep you on top of his face for the rest of his life if it was possible. You looked down at the sight of him, so beautiful and sensual that you couldn’t help but moan just from that. Your thighs squeezed against the side of his face as you felt yourself relax into him, allowing yourself the chance to roll your hips and meet the stroke of his tongue. His hands grabbed both of your thighs as a sign of encouragement. 

“You taste so fuckin’ good, baby,” he purred before placing small flicks against your clits, starting slowly but becoming more distressed as your moans became louder and more frequent. “She’s so fuckin pretty, girl. Such a pretty pussy, so wet and all for me.” 

“For you, Joel,” you breathed out as your eyes squeezed shut and you stuttered forwards. Joel’s actions were becoming more ferocious on your cunt, his tongue having no limits as he continuously brought you to the edge. 

You could barely speak, only the filthiest of moans coming from your timid body as you continued to grind along Joel’s face. Worries about harming him were gone, all you could focus on was the unmeasurable amount of pleasure that he was bringing you. If his tongue alone could do this, what could his cock do? 

Joel didn’t need to hear you speak though. The moans and whimpers that blessed his ears was enough to tell him everything that he needed to know. You were gone when it came to him, would allow him to do whatever he wanted and just the feel of his cock against your ass and his tongue on your clit had done that to you. He wanted to ruin you so bad it almost hurt him. 

As you looked down at Joel again, your eyes flickering open for the briefest of moments, you noticed the cockiness that glimmered behind his eyes. 

“I’d do this every day of my life if I could,” he said as he lifted you up briefly. You whimpered at the loss of contact but also at the sight of him. His face glistened with your wetness, his beard drenched and lips swollen as he stared up at you. Darkness had clouded his eyes. 

You can. You can. You can. You wanted to scream at him. But he couldn’t. He was married. 

“Just shut up,” you mewled before reaching down, grabbing his hair and planting yourself firmly on his face. An animalistic growl came from Joel as he returned his heavenly lips to your core. His moans and whimpers vibrated against your clit as you tugged harder on his hair with every action of his tongue.  

You found a rhythm that had Joel’s eyes slightly widening but he didn’t once stop as you rode his face, his tongue and lips drinking in every drop you released. His tongue went from moving leisurely swirls along your clit to rough, mixing the rhythm up and having you yearning for more. 

His cock was so hard it was painful. He wanted nothing more but to flip you over and fuck you from the back, have you keening and arching your back for him as you screamed his name over and over again, legs shaking and orgasm so strong you black out but he needed this just as much. Wanted to have you flood his mouth with your arousal, he needed to struggle to breath as you put all your weight on his face and took what you needed, deserved. 

Your head was thrown back as you chanted his name like a prayer, your voice becoming embarrassingly higher. Small flicks that he left against your clit were becoming more distressed and the thrust of your hips was almost making it hard for Joel to breath but he would die happily if it meant dying in between your legs with his tongue pressing against your enterance.

“I’m so close,” you whimpered out loud, your cunt clenching around his tongue as he behaved like a frenzied woman between your thighs. His tongue was everywhere all at once and you could feel yourself start to build up, the excitement of the release making you tug on his hair harder as fucked yourself harder on his face. 

Joel pulled back for air, his breath laboured and eyes glossy. He gave himself a few seconds to collect himself as you made stared at each other, both so fucked out your brains it was ridiculous. 

“You gonna come for me, pretty girl? Gonna coat my face?” Joel asked, his words broken up due to being unable to tear his mouth away from your clit for more than a few seconds. “Answer me baby, tell me how good I’m making you feel - “ Joel cut himself off with a long, drawn-out moan as your hands returned back to his hair. “Keep tugging my hair.” 

Tugging harder and putting most of your weight onto Joel’s face was the only response you could give him. Your moans and whimpers matched Joel’s as he continued his tortuous assault on your cunt and you weaved your fingers throughout his hair, your fingernails digging slightly into his scalp causing a delicious burn. 

The burn in your lower stomach grew stronger with every movement of Joel’s tongue and your legs started to shake around his head. “Come, pretty girl,” he growled against your clit. “Come so hard on my tongue I can taste you for days.” 

You dissolved into pleasure as you felt your orgasm rush through your body, every part of you in utter bliss as lowly moaned out Joel’s name. His own cries of pleasures were adding to the orgasm, the vibrations rippling through you. His hands grabbed you tighter as he held you down, surely not able to breathe but frankly, not caring in the slightest. This was heaven to him. Being able to feel your thighs shake and stutter, your whole body clench up and the taste of your wetness gushing out of you and onto his tongue, drinking up every inch of you like he was a man dying - he was done for. This was perfection. This is what he had been craving for so long.

It felt as if everything had stopped as you gently moved your cunt across his mouth, the last of your orgasm sizzling out. You attempted to move off Joel and give him a chance to catch a breath but he pulled you back down, using his tongue to clean up the evidence of your orgasm. It was only when the pleasure became too much that you pulled him back with another pull of his hair, earning an almost silent whimper from him. 

“You did so well, baby,” he whispered as he moved you down to his lap and sat himself up. Joel’s hand moved to your face as he brushed some of the hair out of the way. You looked so good, so blissful and angelic. He looked even better though, completely fucked out as he tried to labour his breathing. 

You nodded slowly and pressed your forehead against his. “So good. Thank you, thank you so much.” 

Joel gulped and hesitated before speaking, “We can do this again,” he started, ignoring the voice in his head screaming at him to shut up. This was so wildly inappropriate but how was he meant to resist you after you’d just sat on his face and ridden him to high heavens? His heart clenched at the hopeful smile on your face. “Our secret though, baby. Can’t tell no-one, ya’ get that?” 

“Our secret.” You leaned back on Joel’s lap, expecting to feel his hard cock pressing into your sensitive core but instead, you just felt his soft bulge and a hint of disappointment hit you. “You not get hard for me, Joel?” you asked sadly. 

There was a devilish smile on his face as he watched you shuffle back until you rested on his lower thighs, your eyebrows pressed together. You undid the buttons of his jeans and slid your hand inside of his briefs so you could cup his bulge - he had wanted you so bad before, what had happened? 

Joel continued to watch you with a smile as your mouth formed into the perfect ‘o’ shape at the realisation of what had happened. 

“For me?” you asked sweetly as you removed your hand from Joel’s boxers, the remnants of his come on your finger tips. 

“For you,” he answered with a faint blush to his cheeks. “Made me come untouched, girl. All from those pretty fuckin’ hands of yours in my hair and the way you rode my face…” he trailed off and grabbed your ass, pulling you against him. “Suck ya’fingers baby, taste me.” 

You did as told, maintaining eye contact as you slipped your digits into your mouth and tasted him on your tongue. Fuck, he was delicious. 

“Funny,” you moaned around your fingers before letting them pop out your mouth. You leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to the side of Joel’s mouth, ignoring his look of confusion. “Told me I couldn’t handle an older man but it looks to me like you can’t handle a bit of younger pussy.” 

Joel chuckled as his fingers started to trail along the inside of your thigh. “I’m not finished with you yet, darlin’. Fuck, I ain’t even started yet.”

[lanabuckybarnes]

| Heating Up |

18+ MINORS DNI

Pairing(s): Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader x Alpha!Steve Rogers

Warnings: A/B/O Themes, Heat, Polyamory, Oral (F), PinV Sex, Knotting, Two sickly sweet alphas who adore their baby — if I’ve missed any let me know.

Word count: 1.5k

Note: Well hello enjoyers of my work I’m so sorry I abandoned you but life came at me fast. Having a puppy is hard work and before I knew it he was almost a year old and I hadn’t posted in a long time. I had surgery also so with everything going on I haven’t had time to write but hopefully I’ll get back to it. For now please enjoy a lil snippet from my drafts you beautiful souls.

This has not been looked over thoroughly forgive my mistakes!!

Your mates were concerned to say the least. You’d spent all but the better half of this week avoiding them, choosing to spend most of your waking hours cooped up in your room instead—only leaving to eat when both men had vacated the house or were tucked up in the much larger bed in the master bedroom.

“Steve have you seen my shirt?” A half naked Bucky stomps in, a scowl marring his perfect features. His bonding mark on perfect display above ropes of muscle that rippled and stretched at each little movement he made.

Steve only hummed, jutting his chin out in the direction of the closed door, your separate little bedroom.

“Thought I couldn’t hear her sneaking out while you were showering, I saw her come back with it not even five minutes ago.” Steve tossed the contents of his frying pan into the air, making sure to catch everything again effortlessly.

This hadn’t been the first time Bucky or Steve’s clothing had vanished into thin air this week. Just the other day Steve and Bucky had gone to training, each of them discarding their clothing in a pile before showering. When they finished the pile was nowhere to be found. They’d tried to question you, Steve pulling on the handle of the closed door but it was locked.

They both had a sneaky suspicion about what was up but you hadn’t had anything since dating the Alphas. It would be strange for it to happen now, right?

They let your strange behaviour continue, you weren’t harming anyone but Bucky was chomping at the bit to see you again. The more reserved of the two had become quite smitten with you, his bonding mark itched when you weren’t joined at the hip and the itch was becoming too much to bear. He waited until Steve was distracted before picking the lock of your room and stepping in.

The first thing that hit him was your scent, heavy in the air, its cherry undertones strong and almost overpowering, he could almost taste it. His alpha brain clicked instantly and told him to leave you alone but his human side craved your contact.

You weren’t in the bed, the shower running let him know exactly where you were. The perfect cover for him. The white sheets had been thrown on the floor, the bed littered in Steve and his shirts and other discarded clothing. It took him only a second to realise that the arrangement was intricate and thought out. A nest.

“What? Get out!” You snarled from behind him, teeth bared and eyes crazy, your body wrapped in a little towel. He blinked at you for a second before promptly apologising for the intrusion and slinked out of the room, jumping lightly at the loud slam and click of the lock.

“She’s in heat.” Steve groaned from his spot in the hall. Your sweet scent had wafted throughout the house, alerting Steve of your vulnerability. His cock hardened in his pants as his pupils dilated, matching the same look Bucky had.

Both of your poor alphas went to bed painfully hard, trying to ignore your soft yowls from the other room. You tried to hold off, deal with the feeling on your own but you couldn’t, you needed them.

-

Steve awoke instantly at the creak of their door, his nose twitching at your smell. He glanced over to Bucky who clutched your pillow, still fast asleep.

Your whimpers grew closer, the bed dipping under your weight as you crawled onto the mattress, until you straddled Steve.

“Stevieee,” you moaned weakly, your hips grinding into his brief covered crotch, your pussy hot against him. You whined as his length twitched against you, hardening easily.

“Oh angel, you’re in heat?” He asked, his large hands helping you move. When you nodded he snarled, flipping you both over until your head made contact with the pillow in Bucky’s arms, Steve’s head nuzzling into your neck, his teeth nipping and licking at your bonding mark. The ministrations had your sweet scent flowing from you in waves. The scent woke Bucky up, his hot breath on the side of your face as he growled lowly.

“Babygirl, you finally come around?” He chuckled at the pathetic sound that fell from your lips, your hand carding through Steve’s dirty blonde locks as he kissed down your almost naked body. Your panties clung to you as another wave of slick fell from you.

“Don’t k-know why…mm Stevie…just felt hot and needy,” you babbled, tears pooling in your water line as you looked up at Bucky. He thought you looked absolutely ravishing, your lip petted and swollen from your lip biting, your body flushed and glistening already.

“You shouldn’t have held back from us omega, you know we live to serve you.” You cried out at his words, nodding before leaning up slightly to slot his lips with yours.

Steve’s chuckle vibrated against your core as he watched how desperate you were. Steve didn’t mind that you and Bucky had such a close relationship, you were his first after all, but he knew you loved him too. Especially when he suckled on your sweet scent through your cotton panties.

“Mmm Stevieee,” your head fell back onto the sheets, your mouth gaping as your eyes fell shut, the fingers in his hair tugging tightly.

“You like that angel? Like your Alpha tasting you? Taste so sweet omega, so fucking sweet.” He growled, hooking a finger into the gusset of your panties before devouring your pussy.

Your sweet moans and whines were like music to your Alphas ears, your hips grinding up and practically riding Steve’s bearded face. You came undone when his nose nudged your sensitive little bud, your cunt gushing over his bearded face. You didn’t even know you could leak that much.

“Oh pleasepleaseplease Alpha, need your knot so bad, so so so bad,” you sobbed, uncaring of who’s knot you got, you just needed to be filled.

“Ok babygirl, alphas got you ok? We’ll let Stevie fuck that weeping cunt first alright, since he was such a good boy and made you cum” Bucky moved so he was sitting behind you, his arms holding your hips while Steve slipped your panties off before moving each of your feet to rest on his bulging thighs, spreading you out for the blonde haired man.

You keened at the sight of Steve’s long length, the curve of his cock decorated in thick, rope like veins leading to a fat tip. He might not have been as thick as Bucky but he still stretched you out nice.

You both moaned in tandem with each other as Steve sunk into you, his head grazing the rigid skin of your sweet spot making you clench around him almost painfully.

“Ohh fuck angel so tight, mmm relax lemme breed that sweet pussy ‘mega” he was panting already, balls slapping against you as he fucked you deeply, making sure you could feel everything. Your soft noises mixed with the slick slapping sound and wet squelching filled the room, your pussy gushing all over the sheets. You must’ve looked pathetic, wailing for your alphas cock to breed you full.

To both of them though, you were the sexiest fucking thing ever. Bucky lipsed down your neck, whispering sweet nothings to you as Steve picked up his pace.

“Ohh there we go babygirl, taking it like a fucking champ. Stevie gonna breed you full of his pups yeah? Look at how soaked you’ve got him, such a good little omega”

Bucky’s filthy words paired with Steve’s swelling knot sent you over the edge, your screams reverberating off the walls—neighbours be damned. Steve followed suit, pressing as deep as he could into you before spilling his seed, his knot swollen to full size to prevent anything from slipping out.

You might’ve blacked out, you don’t know, the only thing you could vaguely register was Steve’s teeth biting down on your dark mark, causing another shockwave of your orgasm to shoot through you.

“There we go babygirl that’s it took it so well, ohh my fucking god” Steve’s chest rumbled with laughter as he settled, grabbing the water Bucky handed him and gulping down gratefully before helping you take a drink yourself.

Both of them moved so that you lay on top of Steve, waiting for the swell of his knot to settle. Bucky’s fingers brushed through your locks, his head laying on Steve’s other pec so he could kiss you gently.

“Take a little nap babygirl ‘cause once Stevie’s knot is gone I’m gonna fucking ruin that cunt, ok?” Despite the sweet way he spoke you knew Bucky meant every single word of it. And your pussy throbbed with excitement.

“We are never gonna survive this” Steve joked after you’d fallen asleep, his hand running up and down your bare arm. Bucky laughed in agreement before speaking,

“We’ll give it our best shot.”

-

[lodgersims]

As a Sims 2 player one of the most eerie things about playing the original game isn't necessarily the creepy/more liminal aesthetic or the repetitively endless gameplay, but the fact that almost all the pre-made Sims from the original game are inexorably doomed by the narrative.

There's something odd about Pleasantview specifically, where the majority of the returning Sim families live (save for Tara Kat, who seems... relatively fine). Like, the concept of the game is that twenty-five years have passed, and all of the returning characters are pre-baked into character arcs that communicate an unavoidable truth: You, the player, failed.

Bella Goth will disappear. Her brother (though in the original Sims we aren't aware that Michael Bachelor is her brother) will die, possibly murdered. Mortimer will be lost and alone. Cassandra will be stuck in an unloving engagement. The Newbie's daughter will be impoverished, a single mother whose husband died young, with two boys and another on the way. Daniel Pleasant will grow up to be a cheater. Jennifer Pleasant will never be an athlete like she wanted (her brother will). And though poor Johnny Burb never mentions Tucker anymore, you know that old dog died years ago. The Roomies, the Mashugas, the Hicks, the Charmings - all leave town... or worse, die out.

I think about Jeff Pleasant's bio in the first game: "Jeff and his family are new to the neighborhood. Can you help Jeff provide for his family and fulfill his lifelong goal of being the first man to walk on Mars?" And how it contrasts to Daniel's in the second: "Since his father Jeff died without achieving his dream of going to Mars, Daniel has felt an overwhelming guilt."

And sure, you can save the families of Pleasantview. You can choose for Mary-Sue to not go to work that day, or maybe Daniel never pursues Kaylynn Langerak again. You can give Cassandra a happy marriage, tame Don Lothario's womanizer ways. You can financially save Brandi Broke. You can get John Burb another dog. You can get Jennifer the career she always wanted. You can defy the scripted in-game prompts and say "No. I don't want to play like this." You can break the cycle, every time you play.

And yet, at the end of the day, no matter what you do... uninstalling the game and reinstalling it, maybe just deleting that Neighborhood folder, they are reset back to exactly where they were again. They're doomed to repeat it forever.

The game makes it clear that there are some things you aren't meant to change. A genie lamp or a Resurrect-O-Nomitron can bring back sims like Michael Bachelor, but you will pay for it in your neighborhood deteriorating to corruption. And no matter what you do, no force in the universe can bring Bella Goth back. The one in Strangetown isn't even really her, after all. And maybe she isn't. They say they deleted her in development, replaced her with a clone. Maybe that's what Bella Goth in Strangetown is. A clone. Maybe we were wrong, after all. Maybe she was never abducted by aliens. Maybe Don Lothario killed her. Maybe Dina Caliente killed her. Maybe Mortimer did. But you can't bring her back, no matter what you do. Recreate the original Bella, pixel by pixel, extract her data, make your zombie Bella. Build your own monster. Create a sim. But she will never recognize her family. Never see them as her own.

And she was never meant to.

[lazysoulwriter]

you've GOT to be kidding me. - pedro pascal.

specially requested! thank you for sending, hope you like it, love.

---

The first time you got pregnant, it had taken months of tracking apps, fertility tests, and quiet heartbreaks. So when your daughter was born, a chubby, sleepy miracle who preferred Pedro’s chest as her pillow, you both assumed you had time. Time before thinking about a second. Time before your life shifted all over again.

So yeah, you weren’t being reckless, just… human. Tired. In love. Closer than ever. And maybe a little too confident that history wouldn’t repeat itself so fast.

Which is why now — sitting on the cold bathroom floor, face against your forearm after your third round of throwing up that week — you absolutely refuse to admit what Pedro is starting to suspect.

He kneels beside you, gently rubbing slow, grounding circles on your back. “Breathe, baby. I got you.”

You groan. “Maybe it’s a bug. Or something I ate. Or—”

Pedro interrupts softly, “When was the last time you got your period?”

You blink.

“Pedro, no.”

He laughs under his breath. “That’s not a no.”

“It’s just—! I just had a baby.”

“You had a baby three months ago,” he says gently, like he’s afraid you’ll float away if he says it too loud. “And I remember very clearly that we haven’t exactly been cautious lately.”

You bury your face in a towel. “I’m thirty-six. I’m tired. I’m breastfeeding. This shouldn’t be possible.”

He’s quiet for a second. Then you hear him murmur, almost to himself, “You’re glowing though. Just like last time.”

You stare at him.

“I threw up on your sock, Pedro.”

“Romantic,” he teases, leaning in to kiss the top of your head. “Let’s just… take a test, okay?”

You agree only to shut him up.

And that’s how you end up in your shared bathroom twenty minutes later, holding a stick with two pink lines, while your newborn daughter babbles in the background from her bassinet.

You sit down slowly on the edge of the tub, stunned.

Pedro peeks into the room, half-expecting to be scolded. “Well…?”

You hold up the test, eyes wide.

There’s a beat of silence.

Then he grins. “Oh my God.”

You shake your head, a bit dazed. “We’re insane. We’re insane people.”

He walks over, kneels in front of you again, rests his forehead against your knees. “We’re insane. And apparently very fertile.”

You burst into laughter, the kind that feels like the only possible response to this whirlwind. You’re terrified, still tired, still healing — but when his hands slide up to cup your cheeks and he kisses you like it’s the easiest thing in the world, you remember that this is your home now. This life. These two babies. This man.

Pedro looks up at you, eyes sparkling. “You think we should just keep having one every year? Start a band?”

You smack his arm. “You’re never touching me again.”

He winks. “You said that last time.”

And somehow, through the chaos, you both just start laughing. Loud and real and maybe a little scared — but together.

---

escrevi essa aqui com um sorrisinho no rosto o tempo todo, juro. obrigada demais a todas as leitoras brasileiras que tão por aqui lendo, surtando e comentando — vocês são tudo pra mim!! espero que tenham curtido esse caos romântico com o pedro tanto quanto eu curti escrever 💌

[mickyschumacher]

Im not sure if your request are open but if they are- a fic with Lando based off the song lose control by Teddy swims. Angst and smut, the whole works😩

But if your request are not open and you see this I hope you have an amazing day/night 🫶

(also I absolutely love your writing. Binge read majority of them the first day I got tumblr and I’m obsessed)

[LOSE CONTROL!]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you and lando had ended things on a good note... or so you thought. you didn't expect to find him at your front door begging for a second chance. or in which lando doesn't know when to give up.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minor dni), mentions of magui (not a fan of what she's done but this is fiction), angst, jealousy, cheesy confessions, unprotected sex (pretty please use protection), teasing, slight-public roleplay? breast play, eating out, fingering, oral sex, p in v, cumming inside, mentions of crashing, technically infidelity on lando's part, poor humour, fluff, and poor proofreading.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: ex-fwb!lando norris x fem!reader, special appearances: magui corceiro and joão felix.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 9k+

𝐀/𝐍: first of all so sorry for taking this up so late! my bad... but it's done! in time for my 2k special! yes that's right, there are two thousands of you little buggers reading my work! i'm ever so grateful, especially because i'm the most inconsistent person i know! thank you for putting up with me, for reading my work, and for your cute little comments. they all make me very happy in such a tough time i've been going through. sending you my ever grateful love from the bottom of my heart ♡︎ p.s it's my 100th post shocker!

🏎️ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | ⚽️𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

"I miss you."

Lando's voice was always like this. Slightly croaky and brittle yet warm and full of need. For you it was a sort of drug. It always pulled you in, it blurred the line between wrong and right, and you always came back for more. And when it was paired with those brown tinged blue eyes of his and all the freckles on his face, you were a goner.

"Lando," you sighed, leaning on your door frame. It was one in the morning. You were asleep but ever so gracefully woken up to the consistent ring of your doorbell. You rubbed your face with an exhaustion not familiar to your slumber but familiar to the antics of Lando himself. The words fell from your lips in an eased flow. "You can't be here. You don't miss me. You need to leave."

You tried to avoid his pained eyes but everywhere you looked, you met them in some shape or form.

"But I do miss you. I miss everything about you. Your smile, your lips, your body, your laugh, fuck, everything."

You blinked slowly, wondering how you had got here. How is it that the decisions and choice you made in life lead to Lando Norris pleading at your front door at one in the morning?

Ah...

There was an answer to that.

As the story goes, around a year ago, you were with Lando. 'With' was a loose term. It was supposed to be friends with benefits. You had been for almost a year by that point. Naturally, the only rule to being friends with benefits was to not fall in love with each other. And as natural as that rule was, there was a common saying: 'Rules are meant to be broken.'

You and Lando both realised it. But it terrified you the most. You weren't cut out for this. Things were already hard enough as it was sneaking around.

Travelling on the private jets, facing the media and the public, having to watch Lando race every weekend and pray for him wellbeing... it wasn't exactly your cup of tea. It was exactly why you were friends with benefits in the first place.

So you ended it. Lando wasn't happy about it but he respected it.

That was the end of your story.

Or so you thought.

"Lan, you're in a relationship. For fuck's sake, please can you consider her at least?"

Lando ran a hand through his dark mop of curls, sighing while holding back the eye roll at the mention of his intricately created PR relationship. He knew you were right. You often were. But you weren't understanding him. He didn't think you ever could, no matter how much he tried to explain it to you.

You and him... you were made for each other. He knew it from the bottom of his heart. You were perfect. Together, you were perfect. There was no one like you. And for him, there was no one else. Not ever. No matter who he dated or who he was with, he'd be damned if there was someone else other than you.

Lando's tongue poked his cheek, eyes firmly on you. "Are you coming this Sunday? In the evening?"

This race weekend was the Silverstone circuit and in the same day, afterwards, was a dinner party with the drivers, families, and friends. In other words, it was a recipe for disaster.

"I don't think I should..." you trailed off, internally wincing when you knew deep down you should've just said you weren't coming rather than being open to it. When it came to the blue-eyed boy in front of you, any assertiveness you ever had was thrown out the window.

Lando reached to grab your hands, fingers automatically rubbing smooth circles into your skin. "Please come," he pleaded, "if not for me, come for mum and dad, hmm? They miss having you around."

You pressed your lips together, eyes falling onto the floor as you began to chew your lip. "Lando, I can't come. It doesn't look good... for the both of–"

"She won't be there."

Your eyes flickered up to Lando, widening slightly at his words.

With an eager sharpe intake of air, he doubled down on his response. "If that's why you're saying no, she won't be there."

You tilted your head, giving him an almost dry look. "You know that's not even half of the reason." A sigh fell from your lips. "Go home, Lando. You've got practice tomorrow. You need sleep."

Lando's eyes softened. You always kept track of those small things for him, scolding him for not going to sleep early or not taking care of himself. It was like old times all over again. His grip around your hands tightened. "I will," He promised, "but tell me you're coming on Sunday. Please."

You cursed at yourself. It was that same voice. That one with so much need and desperation. It was as if a voice gained the ability to have puppy eyes.

Reluctantly, you nodded slowly. "Fine... I'll come," you relented.

A smile finally sprawled across Lando's face, hands moving to quickly bring you into a hug. His arms felt comfortable, bringing an ease you hadn't felt in over a year. "Thank you."

Your eyes widened when you felt a quick kiss on your cheek, still lingering after Lando parted. He grinned, taking a few steps back from you. "I'll see you Sunday. "

━━━━━━━━━━━

The Sunday jitters were real. You couldn't ever truly imagine how anyone of the drivers felt on race day but you imagined it to be something like this.

The way your heart was thumping, one would think you have an odd case of arrhythmia. You were working up a sweat masked by the anxious sprays of perfume you had lathered on and all you were doing was standing.

You hadn't watched the race in person because that was equally as idiotic as going to a brunch where the person you love and his family was despite him having a girlfriend. And you didn't want to be twice as idiotic. In the end, Lando had gotten a well-earned P3 at his home race, despite the mistakes of his team.

You were happy for him. But it didn't rule out the fact you were in a serious dilemma of awkwardness as you dawdled outside of the venue. Your fingers twirled around the fabric of your dress.

You shouldn't of worn it. It was Lando's favourite. You knew that.

Hell, you shouldn't be here.

You should go home.

It wasn't too late.

Your name abruptly sprung into the air. "Is that you?"

Well shit.

You took a slow turn on your feet, a sheepish smile automatically working its way onto your face. "Mr and Mrs Norris!" you greeted.

An amused huff fell from Lando's mother's mouth. "Please! You know you can call by our names!"

Somewhere in the back of your head, you could feel your mother's voice nagging you at the very thought of calling them by their names.

Cisca smiled, bringing you into a warm hug. "God, we've miss you!" Pulling away after a few seconds, she took another few to observe you. "You've become more beautiful since we last saw you, isn't that right, Adam?"

Lando's father chuckled. "Not more than you though," he teased only to get a playful elbow from his wife. He turned to you and grinned, reminding you exactly where Lando's came from. "The girls will be so happy to see you, sweetie. Oliver too."

You laughed gently, thanking them. Your mouth felt dry. Usually you knew what to say to them. But it had been so long, you weren't sure what to say. Whether it was right or wrong. How much Lando had even said...

"Lando was telling us how you've been busy studying, is that right? You've been doing your master's?" His father queried.

Speak of the devil...

You nodded slowly. "Yes. It's research based so it's quite, uh, time consuming. So I just wanted to put a year dedicated to it. That's why I haven't been around as much."

Both of his parents nodded in understanding. His mother pouted, "While it's been sad without you, I'm very proud of you. A bachelors is no easy feat let alone a master's!"

Your heart constricted while her soft eyes met yours. His mother was always like this. Talking you... treating you as if you were her daughter. You never understood it. You'd only known each other for a couple of years including the period were you and Lando were with each other.

You asked her a month before you had ended it with Lando how she knew you so well. Her response... you could've never forgotten it even if you willed it. '"A mother knows everything. What's good and bad for their children. You know it as mother's intuition. When I look at you, I just know."'

"'Know what?'" You remembered asking.

"How important you are to Lando."

And that was when you realised you were completely and utterly in love with him.

"If you two are done talking, we should finally go inside," Lando's father continued to tease.

You sucked in a sharp breath as you walked with his parents inside the venue.

It was definitely too late.

━━━━━━━━━━━

To be honest, Lando had seen many beautiful things in life. Life, if you looked at it carefully, perhaps on a slight angle, was beautiful. And besides, they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

But the sight of you walking into the venue, arm linked with his own mother and you chatting with his father was forever etched into his brain.

He could've sworn his heart was leaping out of his chest. Everything about what he was seeing was perfect. Your smile, the atmosphere, the sun shining down on you, the sound of your laugh, your hair, the wind, the dress... God, he could go on and on.

"Lando! Look who we met outside!" His mother cheered making him grin.

"Well, well, well," Lando smiled, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek before hugging his father. He stepped back, blue eyes fixated on you. He stretched out his arms, waiting for a hug making you sigh and his parents laugh softly.

You took a step forward, reaching your hands to wrap around his back while Lando's own hands fell to your waist and brought you close. His classic Tom Ford perfume lingered around you as he whispered in your ear. "You came."

"I promised," you responded softly, pulling back only for him to tighten his grip on you. You suppressed an eye roll. "Congrats on P3. You did well."

Lando perked up at the mention of his race and finally pulled back. "You watched?"

"I–" Your voice was interrupted by another familiar Brit.

"Is that who I think it is?" Alex queried with his usual wide grin.

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. "Depends... is it the most prettiest girl? After Lily, of course."

Alex chuckled. "Is there any other answer?"

You pretended to ponder. "Nope! That's the one." You both laughed as you gave each other a hug.

"Where have you been? I needed someone to give me company on the tracks. It's been so lonely," He complained dramatically.

And without realising it, you were back to meeting everyone you hadn't seen in a long time. Weirdly enough, you missed this. Talking to everyone, joking around, just spending time with them... it gave you some sort of peace.

"Okay! Oscar, you're time's up," Lando announced, standing at the table you, Oscar and his girlfriend, Lily, were seated at.

Oscar gaped at his teammate. "But we only just met her!"

Lando gave a sickly sweet smile. "Aw... tough. Now scram!"

You shook your head as you watched the couple leave the table. "You are the worst," you said, leaning on your arm while Lando took a seat next to you.

"I haven't seen you in so long! Sue me for wanting to spend time with you," Lando shrugged in his defence, blue eyes trained on you.

You blinked, averting your eyes to the rest of the party. "I going to get some champagne," you murmured, standing up to go the table full of various spirits and juices.

You cursed silently as you caught Lando following after you from your peripheral. Arriving to the table, your fingers danced around, looking for the right glass of bubbles.

"You're ignoring me," Lando stated, hot breath skimming past your ear as he stood inches away from you.

You kept your eyes on the alcohol, letting a small laugh fall from your lips. "Gee, has anyone ever told you that you're a smart cookie, Lando"?

Lando pursed his lips. "I miss you."

You sighed at the familiar words, fingers wrapping around a glass of what you were pretty sure was Dom Perignon leisurely being given. "Lando... stop it. I came here because you wanted me to, okay? Just forget about whatever it is you're thinking about."

You sucked in a sharp breath when you felt Lando's hand travel to yours, fingers just hanging on to each other. You hated how his touch made you feel so... so tingly. As if you were having your first crush.

"So that's why you wore this dress? To tell me to stop? Because I wanted you here?" He laughed softly, playing with your fingers. He shook his head. "I can't even imagine what you'd do if I told you every single thought running through my head right now."

Your eyes widened. You shakily put back the glass of champagne.

"Lan–" Your voice cut off upon the feeling of his fingers trailing at the back of your neck. You gulped while Lando's voice continued to linger.

"How much of a mistake do you think this really is? Wearing my favourite dress? Don't think I haven't seen that necklace on you. Let's turn that pendant around and show everyone who's name is on it, hmm?"

Your eyes widened. Shit. You had completely forgotten about the necklace. You had spent all your time using it on the front side that you had forgotten about his initial's engraved on the back.

Lando's tongue trailed over his bottom lip, head tilting to the side. "Sweetheart, I'm torn. You have no idea how gorgeous you look. But you have no idea how much I would give... what I would do to take you home right now. That dress would be off and my fingers would be on you. Fuck, just imagining it, I–"

"Lando!"

You and Lando both furrowed your brows, chests heaving breathlessly. You definitely didn't say his name nor did you sound like that. Turning your head slightly, the view made you take wide steps back from Lando.

Lando mended his brows even more, only smoothing them when he saw what you had seen. "B-Baby!" The endearment failed to come out of his mouth smoothly, making you wince.

You watched Lando hug the blonde girl in front of you. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in Brazil?" He asked, only just covering up his sheer curiosity.

"I was but I wanted to surprise you... so surprise!"

A surprise... yes it was.

You blinked as the blonde turned to you, extended her hand, and introduced herself. Awkwardly, you returned the kind gesture because ultimately she had done nothing wrong to you.

You introduced yourself as Lando's old friend because it was the safest bet. And it was the truth... to some degree.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" Lando asked his girlfriend as a queasy feeling began to form in your stomach. You think you can hear her respond, settling for a glass. You weren't sure. Your ears were tuning in and out of this noise. Out of your peripheral you see the driver turn to you. "Did you still want your champagne?"

You let out a low exhale and gave the both of them a tight smile. "It's okay. I was just leaving."

The smile on Lando's face dropped. "W-What? Already?"

You nodded curtly. "Lots of things to do."

Lando narrowed his eyes. "Like what? It's barely seven... the day's almost over..."

Your eyes widened, feeling startled as an awkward laugh fell from his girlfriend's lips. "Lan, the girl said she has things to do. Stop grilling her. Sorry... must be the post-race adrenaline or something. It's a shame you can't stick around though. See you around?"

You gave a small smile, slightly irritated at how genuine and sweet she was. You actually wished there was something about her to hate. "Yeah," You agreed softly, "See you around."

━━━━━━━━━━━

About thirty minutes had passed since you left the dinner party, much to everyone's dismay.

You were exhausted.

You only just had the energy to take off your heels and put aside your purse before you fell onto your bed. Sighing, you stared at the ceiling. What even was life anymore?

You couldn't believe yourself. You were so angry and pissed off at Lando and you were jealous of his girlfriend.

There wasn't any rocket science to it. You were still very much in love with Lando. You shouldn't be but you were.

Your mother once told you that love wasn't black and white. It was the blurred line between: it was grey. It was never as simple as being in love or not. You fall in love and fall out of it and just as you did, you would fall once again but with someone else entirely. And sometimes it compelled idiotic things like infidelity or rebounds.

Love was also seasonal. It changed all the time and sometimes you enjoyed it and sometimes it made you suffer. It was entirely demanding. It drove people crazy. It was overwhelming and yet so lonely.

Point in case: love sucked.

And you and Lando had not escaped from it.

You weren't sure if you ever could.

But you had to. It was the right thing to do. Maintaining boundaries was the right way to go.

You blew some air up to your face, pushing the hair out of your face. Nodding to yourself, you told yourself you were getting over Lando.

You sat straight at the sound of your doorbell ringing throughout your house. Begrudgingly you walked towards the door, a hundred percent sure it was your neighbour a floor down. She was a sweet, quiet old lady who fit the 'crazy cat lady' persona a bit too well. Often, she came to you asking if you had seen a cat of hers but the worst part was that all of her cats were the tabby orange type. How she could tell the difference was beyond you, no more than how exactly the cats were using elevators and opening fire exits to get to your floor.

Without thinking too much, you opened the door to greet the lady but all the words you had ever known fell to the air upon seeing Lando.

"Lando," you took a calm deep breath, "Please tell me I'm hallucinating or that you're not actually in front of my door right now."

"I can't do that," Lando said, eyes burning with something a bit too familiar.

Wordlessly, you begun closing the door. But the jutted foot of Lando's quickly intercepted the act. "Please," Lando pleaded, coming into your apartment.

You let out a distressed sigh as you hear the door close. "Lando, you can't be here. You're supposed to be at a dinner party. With your friends... family, with your girlfriend, oh my God, with your freaking girlfriend, Lando."

"But you're the only one on my mind," Lando breathed, watching you walk around your house. His arm reached out to your waist, stopping your endless rounds of circles. He could feel you take a sharp intake of air, standing still at his touch. Holding you close, his lips lingered near your ear while his warmth enveloped you.

"I think I'm going crazy," he murmured. "You're in my dreams. Even when I look at her, I see your face. You're fucking everywhere, sweetheart."

You pursued your lips together. "Why do you have to make things so difficult?" you asked quietly, not to Lando in particular but to the silence of your house.

"Then tell me... that you don't want me here. That you don't feel the same way. Tell me... tell me you don't love me. Then I'll leave. I promise."

"I–" you paused, turning your body to him. You could feel his eyes searching your face but you couldn't even lift your head up. "I don't love you."

A lengthy silence ensued and it spoke volumes.

Finally, a soft chuckle from Lando's lips broke the silence. "You can't even look me in the eye and tell me that."

You threw your head back with an exhausted sigh, giving up. Your hands began to flail about. "What more do you want from me, Lando? Why can't you just leave me, us, alone?"

Lando's hand travelled to your jaw, pulling you in a mere inch away from his face. His grip was soft and warm, lulling you. "I can't leave you alone... I can't ever leave you alone. You don't get it," a cry of frustration fell from his lips while his eyes watered, "You were made for me and I was made for you. You... you are all I ever think about. I can't breathe without you. I exist for you. I am so fucking in love with you, it scares me. And i-if you tell me you love me, I'll break up with her right now."

Your eyes burned with an all but familiar salty liquid. "Lando... I can't."

Lando clenched his jaw. His voice was so quiet, a crack away from breaking entirely. "Why? Why can't you just admit that you're in love with me?"

"Because I'm terrified!"

You feel Lando's hand fall from your jaw while his brows furrowed, asking you what you were talking about. Your cheeks were flushed with heat while your fingers dug rested on your hips, digging into your flesh. You took in a shaky breath.

"I can't do this life, Lan. I can't be away from you all the time and travel with you all the time. I'm not another girl on your arm for the media. And I really can't watch you race. Every time I watch you race... I, " you blew air into your cheeks, "I watch with a sick stomach. Every spin, every crash... I always just think.. God, if something happened to you. If I love you..."

Lando fell silent. For the first time in a long time, he had nothing to say to you. All he had were the fresh tears quietly leaking out of his eyes. He blinked rapidly, using his arm to wipe off the rest of his silent sobbing. Stepping forward, with the soft pad of his thumb, he collected the tears you hadn't realised were falling.

Lando cleared his throat, breathing in while he rested his hand on your cheek, rubbing soft circles into your skin. "Ever since I met you, before I even realised I was in love with you, I've spent every race thinking about you. You're my first thought when those lights go off and the last when that flag waves. You don't know it but you are the only thing that makes me feel truly safe. And I would fight the world if it meant that you could openly love me back."

A singular tear made it's way down your face, seeping into the pores of your skin as Lando pressed a long kiss on your cheek before quietly leaving towards the door. Before entirely leaving, he stopped in his tracks. "I'm not giving up on us. I told you before. I could never leave you."

━━━━━━━━━━━

It had been a month since you and Lando had talked... whatever that was out.

The promise he had made before leaving your house that day was one he was persistent in pursuing. You knew Lando. He was stubborn. Often, what he wanted, he got.

You tried to avoid him. But the good morning and good night messages you received every day despite his ever-changing time zones still reached you. You spent the first three days ignoring them but the guilt with each passing day got heavier.

In a way, it felt like you were restarting your friendship. Taking things slow. Except the odd times that reminded you it was anything but. In particular Lando's 'drunk on horniness' messages or the sudden love confessions that popped out of thin air.

Things were... steadyish.

It was the only reason you had accepted Carlos' extended invitation to join him and the other's at a nightclub. You couldn't lie. Of course, Lando was at the forefront of your brain when you accepted. A part of you was curious.

How was he holding up?

Whether he was still with his girlfriend...

Were his plans on not giving up on you limited to his consistent texts?

But alas, as life usually worked, things did not go the way you planned.

While most of the drivers steered clear of the alcohol aside from their podiums, a practice Lando often took somewhat seriously, he was seriously considering breaking at the sight of you. More specifically, the sight of you and João Felix, the famed five-star FIFA player, mingling.

Lando who wasn't starving for any spirits was ready to down a few shots. But instead, he was completely sober, not a lick of alcohol in him, watching João, the ex-boyfriend of his own girlfriend chat you up.

Lando couldn't exactly blame the athlete. He would've done the same thing: the fixated eyes as you talked, the ear-to-ear smile when you laughed, the seamless checking out when you turned to take a sip of your drink or talk to someone nearby because Lando was a hundred percent sure you were the most gorgeous person in the room.

But he could blame João's pettiness. Lando had his ex and now he was going after you. In way, he rated it. But Lando knew you too well.

You were not interested in the player at all. The tight smiles, the absentminded nods, the readiness to jump into a conversation with literally anyone else... you were practically inviting Lando for a talk.

You could feel yourself freeze at the sight of Lando and his girlfriend walk over to the both of you. The air, all of a sudden, felt thick, fogging up your brain. You weren't quite sure what to say. This odd intertwining history between the four of you was nauseating.

"João," Lando greeted with a fake cheer. Magui, his girlfriend, gave a tight smile that bordered on pissed off – you knew the look all too well.

The football player gave a loose grin, shaking Lando's hand. "Lando... Magui," he sucked in a sharp breath. "Oh! Have you guys met yet?" He asked, brown eyes moving to you as he introduced you to the couple.

The three of you blinked at the dry sarcasm underpinning João's voice. You let a small laugh fall past your lips. "We have, actually. I'm Lando's old friend and Magui and I met not so long ago."

Lando gave you a pointed look. "You are way too down to earth. She's a special old friend," he corrected, grinning at João.

You pursed your lips awkwardly as the two Portugueses raised their eyes brows. You raised your hand to rub the nape of your neck nervously. "Uh, well, no... just old friend will do. Always the funny one, huh, Lando?" You murmured with a forced laugh.

To be honest, as the silence began to build, you were surprised to even hear Magui's voice. "I'm sorry..." she started, arm darting out to grab João's hand, making you widen your eyes, "João, we need to talk."

You incredulously watched Magui drag away the Portuguese before turning to Lando. You pondered over her words. "She still–"

"Likes him? Yup!" Lando said, popping the 'p' as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"It's weird how similar she and I are. Lonely... and both head over heels for our exes." Lando tilted his head, eyes examining you carefully while you took a deep breath. "Can't say the same for João though," he clicked his tongue.

The comment made you raise a brow. Lando softly laughed at your confused expression. "Sweetheart... it is my worst luck that you are the most gorgeous woman to exist. João had eyes for you. From the moment you were talking till the moment we stepped in."

You folded your arms, a small grin teetering on your face at the irritated expression on his face. "So you were watching me... obsessed much?" You humoured out of pure amusement.

Lando poked his cheek with his tongue, taking a step towards you, hands still shoved into this pockets of his pants. "Oh you have no idea."

You pressed your lips together.

There were an infinite amount of things that were unhealthy. Rewatching your comfort shows five times too many, the double digits on your screen-time, a high sugar intake (although your tastebuds said otherwise)...

But for you, it usually ended up being Lando. The various facets of Lando often left you undone. And a clean-shaven Lando, stalking towards you in the loosest long sleeve polo shirt, folded at the arms and half unbuttoned so the necklace you brought him and bracelets he wore glittered under the club lights was just another one of many undoings.

"Lando..." you murmured, taking a step back, eyes darting to your surroundings. "What are you doing?"

"I haven't told you how good you look today, have I? Because you have no idea how fucking hot you look," Lando responded, ignoring your question as he took another step forward.

You swallowed your saliva at the recognisable look swirling in those blue orbs of his. Like he was going to ravage you.

"Lando," you hissed, putting a hand to his chest to maintain some distance. You breathed shakily, trying to think straight. "Have some self-control!"

"Oh sweetheart, you know as much as I do." You widened your eyes as Lando used your hand to pull you closer, merely inches away from his face. His voice, despite it's softness, is drowned in a husk that runs down your spine. His warm breath pricked the surface your skin. "When it comes to you, I have no control."

Never in your life had your throat felt so dry. You burned at his words and his touch made your stomach churn. "But..." you furrowed your brows, trying to remember what you wanted to say. "But Magui? João?" You managed to get out.

As the strobes of light glimmered across Lando, you managed to capture him closing his eyes after being trained on your lips for so long, as though he was trying to hold himself back, swimming up to the surface for some sort of consciousness.

His forehead fell to yours as he pondered those three words. "I told you..." Lando said, hands travelling up your neck to hold your face, relishing the heat your flushed state brought. "I exist for you."

In essence: fuck Magui and fuck João.

━━━━━━━━━━━

"You're kidding me," Lando flatly said, evilly eyeing the 'Out of Order' sign on your elevator.

"I'm also totally kidding that my room's on the fifth floor," You laughed softly, sarcasm underlying your voice.

Lando turned to you with a blank stare. You two had both managed to get out of the nightclub as discreetly as you could (which included the most obvious winks from Carlos and Fewtrell). While both of your patience was wearing thin, in the nature of an F1 driver, Lando was losing it ten times faster.

Lando had been waiting what felt like forever to be with you, for you to green-light him. That time he spent without you felt torturous as though he was being punished for being in love. And now that he had you, he was going to make up for lost time.

The only hitch in his plan was an elevator under maintenance and five flights of stairs.

Lando raised a brow at the anything but innocent smile tugging on your lips. He sucked in a sharp breath. "I do not like that look on your face."

You suppressed an eye roll, knowing damn well those twinkling eyes were saying something else. Slowly, you walked towards the fire exit with Lando following after you cautiously. Popping your head into the room, you looked up and the numerous staircases trailing up the building.

A quiet laugh slipped past Lando's mouth. "What are you doing?" He asked as you took your heels off and placed them on the floor.

You turned to him, resting your hand the railing of the staircase while the other found your hip. "My dear Lando," you tsked, "you didn't think it would be that easy, did you?"

You smiled at the furrowed brows he sported. "They say you should work hard to get what you want. Who knows..." you shrugged, "Maybe you'll find my panties on the third floor."

As the cogs finally clicked in place, Lando sunk his teeth into his lips. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, raking his eyes over you. "And if someone catches us?"

You jutted your bottom lip, pretending to ponder his question. "Guess you'll have to be fast then. Aren't you an athlete or something?" You teased, grinning ear-to-ear now.

"You are going to be the death of me." Lando gave you a pointed look, throwing his heading back soon after receiving a cheeky wink from your side.

The British driver watched carefully as you started to make your way up the flight of stairs. Smiling to himself while shaking his head, he grabbed your heels with his two fingers and climbed up after you.

Lando was amused and excited at the same time, seeing you occasionally turn to him with a knowing glint in your eyes. He knew himself that things were currently tame: finding your heels, purse, and jacket in his hands.

He felt dazed upon catching a glimpse of the lace underneath your dress, tight around your ample flesh, his own pants beginning to constrict.

"Not just yet, Lan." Your voice piped up in the silence. Lando fluttered his eyes open, seeing you turn back to him again. He questionably hummed in response, gathering himself once again.

"What are you going to do now?" You queried with feigned innocence, eyes flickering to your bra dangling in your hand. "Whoops!"

Lando sucked in a sharp breath, watching your bra fall to the floor before shamelessly moving his eyes to your chest, eyes bulging at the now uncontrolled cleavage spilling from your dress. His fingers clenched around all of your items while he swallowed the saliva building up in his mouth.

The sudden urge to increase his pace up the stairs made you widen your eyes with a fire-like anticipation, matching his action. As Lando grabbed your bra from the floor, he could only imagine what was coming as you arrived to the third floor.

But surprisingly enough, Lando had caught up to you, intentional on your part he was sure. He eyed your body as you sat on a stair, leg crossed over another, letting your dress ride up your thighs.

"Looking for something?" You queried, catching his attention.

"Nothing." Lando winced at the poor and croaky lie escaping his lips.

You grinned, gliding your tongue over your lip. You stood up, hand clenching around the soft and wet fabric in your hands. You could hear Lando's breath hitch as you used your free hand to trail up his leg, only millimetres away from the bulge in his pants.

Lando's eyes focused on you as you met his gaze. He felt your lips graze his own, naturally making him lean in for more but your finger pressing down stopped him, instead pulling his free hand open.

Lando closed his eyes upon the feel of the soft textured fabric in his rough palm. "Please tell me that's what I think it is."

He knew what it was. But he wanted to hear it from your lips.

You moved your lips to his ear. "What do you want to hear? That your holding my panties? Or that they're soaked?"

Lando's eyes snapped open, dropping your items to his side. His hand travelled up your neck, holding your face to jerk it towards him. You could feel his hot breath swarm your vicinity. His thumb trailed over your lips, head leaning in.

You gave him a small smile, pulling away. "We still have two whole floors, Lando. Patience is a virtue."

Lando blinked blankly at the light tap of your fingers on his cheek. He watched you leave once again. Knowing that you had no underwear unknowingly awoke something deeply sinister within him.

You were a siren. Luring him in by doing so little and yet, the most. He was sure of it.

Lando took in a deep breath, closing his eyes once again. He was also sure that the next thing about to come off was the last thing you had on: your dress. And he wasn't confident he could handle it at all. His cock felt impossibly tight against his pants, aching in such a way that begged for release.

"You're missing the show, baby."

Lando looked at you, gathering your items and slowly walking up the stairs, watching you carefully take the straps off your shoulders, emphasising 'L' on your necklace. His tongue rested at the corner of his mouth, preventing them from tugging upwards when you realised you had to deal with the zipper of your dress.

"Need some help?" Lando asked, catching up to you once again.

You pouted at his amused expression. "Lan... I had a thing going," You whined. You had used a damn string and paperclip to pull the zip up earlier this evening. And now? Now you had a lover who drove a papaya-coloured car for a living with a shit-eating grin.

"How about," Lando started, moving your panties to his other hand to wrap an arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him, "I help you get out of this dress and you stop being a little minx so I can fuck the tease out of you, hmm?"

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, feeling Lando's bulge push up against your ass. Your skin pricked with a wave of heat that you hadn't felt in a long time. You hear Lando hum in your ear, waiting for a response as he nestled his chin into your collarbone, fingers grazing up and down your body.

"Fine, fine," you relented, turning to grab Lando by the hand before you hurried up the last flight of stairs.

"I thought you said patience was a virtue!" Lando huffed, smiling at your pace.

You rolled your eyes. "You're one to speak."

Lando chuckled softly, trailing after you with the same eagerness sparking within him.

━━━━━━━━━━━

You peeked your head into your empty hallway, hand still around Lando's. There were four flats on your floor. Two of which were empty thanks to the cost of living crisis and the other, your neighbour, who was often out of town.

In other words, you were free to be as loud as you want.

With as much humbleness and reserve you could manage, you tamely walked down your hallway, hearing Lando mumble something about how your hallway belonged in a horror movie.

"Gee... that's so sexy, Lan. Keep going," you dryly encouraged, turning to grab the keys in your purse.

Lando jutted out his hand, letting your keys dangle from his fingers in front of your face. "I'm just saying," he said defensively with the corner of his mouth tugging upwards in amusement.

You shook your head, failing to suppress your grin as you shoved the key into the door, waiting to hear the obscene click. Opening the door, you smiled timidly at the state of your flat. "Well... this is my humble-ish abode... that you've seen a bit too much recently," you teased.

Lando laughed softly, following after you, hands still full. "What are you on about? I love your flat. It's so... you."

You turned to Lando with a raised brow, watching him put down all the trinkets you had left him on the shelf near the door. "Is that a diss I hear?"

The driver rolled his eyes, walking towards you with a knowing glint to his eyes. His arms stretched out, travelling to your waist before pulling you in. You could feel his breath graze past your skin as he held your gaze. Lando's voice was a mere whisper in your ears. "I mean I love you... so I love your cute little flat."

"Oh," you lamely said before blinking back to reality. "I mean not 'oh' like 'oh,' I mean like 'oh... I love you too?" You questioned, slowly dying on the inside at your stupidity.

Lando grinned at your pained expression. "Nice save," he murmured against your lips. "Now... where were we?"

"Hmm?" You idly queried, unable to take your eyes off of his lips. "Uh," you cleared your throat, "something about fucking the tease out of me?"

"Ah, yes," Lando agreed, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. "You have been pretty awful today. First walking in with João..." He clicked his tongue, finger trailing the underside of the strap of your dress before pulling it down your shoulder. "Then this dress, fuck."

You let out a shaky breath, feeling his fingers skim past your neck as he walked around you to meet the zip you had been battling all day. Lando's mouth met the side of your ear while he pressed the cold metal of your zip down and against your back.

"And now your little theatrics. It's not very nice of you, sweetheart. I've waited so long... you're on my mind every second of every day. I think about you so much, I don't think it's healthy. But..."

Lando stopped himself, lips brushing against your burning skin.

"But?" You repeated, turning your body to face him.

"But... I don't care," He finished with a small nonchalant shrug and a balance of softness and cockiness drowning his voice.

You didn't waste a second, moving your hands to Lando's neck, pushing yourself forward as you pressed your lips to his.

You could feel his hands immediately wrap around your waist. Your skin pricked with a familiar burn, warming at the touch of Lando's fingers skimming your bare skin.

Even though a fire was whirling within you, your body still had managed to create waves and waves of goosebumps as the hairs on your skin stood straight. You could feel Lando's tongue dart out, nudging your mouth to open a bit more to explore every crevice.

A mix of a grunt and high-pitched moan slipped past Lando's lips making your thighs clench at the tingling rippling through your core. You were positively going to combust.

Lando was equally sure he was going to lose it. He had waited so long to feel your lips and the sheer happiness he felt right now... it couldn't even compare to his imagination. To feel his teeth graze your lips while his one hand roamed your bare back, ever slowly inching towards your ass... the other tangled in your soft hair... he was almost afraid to admit he daydreamed of this.

His pants, fuck, they were tight before but this was something else entirely. He was in a some sort of twisted pain as your hands moved from his neck and crept up the hem of his shirt, brushing his taut torso, remembering exactly where all his little moles were.

"Shit..." Lando sighed out, holding you tighter against him. His lips moved along your bare shoulder, meeting the nape of your neck to attack it with purple written love letters. "Get on the bed, baby," he managed to get out, half-focusing on the honey-drenched moans falling from your lips while he waddled you towards the bed.

You sat back on the mattress breathlessly, chest heaving up and down as you watched Lando eye you down with a lust-driven softness. A gentle smile sprawled across your face, making him gulp cautiously. Coyly, you stood up, barely a few centimetres away from him as you peeled off your dress as slowly as you good.

You could hear Lando's breath hitch before he sucked in a sharp intake of air, eyes fixed on your breasts. They looked lonely... as if they were waiting for his touch. His tongue rested on the side of his mouth, tilting his head while your dress skimmed past your thighs and off your legs.

Lando's head fell back. "Fuck... you are going to be death of me." He shook his head, inching back towards you.

The small laugh that had fallen from your lips made him smile. He watched as your fingers pinched the edge of his shirt, lifting it up at the same rate of his arms flying up. Removing his shirt, your hands danced towards his shorts but Lando's hand caught your wrist.

You flickered your eyes to Lando, eyebrows raised at the pained look on his face. "If I let you do it, I swear to God, I might cum right here."

Your eyes slightly widened at his words, mouth all of a sudden feeling dry. You raised your hands in defence, watching him try to take off his pants in amusement.

"Don't think I don't see that smug smile on your face, sweetheart," He murmured, blue eyes averting to you. A smug smile of his own formed on his face as his arms caged you in, your knees bucking at the feel of the mattress or Lando – you couldn't tell.

Lando's head dipped into the valley of your breasts, hot breath letting goosebumps litter your bare skin. "I missed these sweet tits of yours," he murmured, watching his own hand skim past your pebbled nipple, ears perking at the quiet gasp coming from your mouth.

You could feel the ghost of Lando's smile against your skin before his hand stretched to fondle the soft mound of tissue while his tongue wrapped around the other, circling the hard nipple with his warm saliva.

You let out a small sigh, hand immediately travelling to the mop of brown curls Lando sported as you revelled in his touch. You could tell what he was doing. Making up for lost time. Ensuring you knew how much he missed you by spending the uttermost time and care with your breasts alone.

His thumb and tongue moved in synchronised circles, paying attention to each nipple, savouring the way your body arched into his touch and the small sighs and whimpers of admission dancing into his ears.

Detaching his tongue from your nipple, Lando looked at the sight of the ample flesh of your tits filling his hands. Fuck... it drove him insane.

Your body quivered as Lando's lips trailed down the valley of your breasts, a line of purples following right after his wet kisses. "Lando," you hissed, "People are going to know."

A huff of amusement crawled from his throat. "I know."

Lando watched you roll your eyes while he came down to pussy. His hands glided across your thighs, gripping your plump skin as a wave of tingles bubbled within your core.

Planting a small kiss on the side of your thigh, he flickered his blue eyes to you. "Think I still need to get that brat out of you," he murmured before gently pulling at your labia.

He watched your folds clench around nothing as his hot breath grazed the surface of your pussy. Lando smiled knowingly. "You are simply drenched for me, sweetheart."

You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling his finger slide down your slick folds, going up to ever so slightly to gather your arousal and graze the sensitive bundle of nerves near the top. A gasp left your mouth, making him grin.

You feel his fingers move away from your heat, skimming your thighs while hearing the hitched breaths fall from Lando's mouth as if he was the one affected. You could see his eyes travel across your body, wondering where to start. He wanted everywhere.

His mop of curls on his head dipped down, warm lips pressed up against the valley of your breasts to your stomach. And as he reached your navel, he could hear your shallow breaths, the ghost of his smile tickling your skin.

Heat prickled every inch of your body and yet a shiver of what could only be explained as some sort of electric current ran through you. You felt a tap on your thigh, bringing you back to reality.

"Don't lose me now, baby," Lando murmured softly, hands gripping your hips to yank your body closer to him.

Before you could breathe, before you could imagine the mere consequences of the way Lando's breath felt against your core, his mouth dived down into your folds.

Your mouth fell open as your head found comfort in the mattress. His tongue grazed over your clit with a tantalisingly slow pace, letting your legs tremor in his grasp. You could feel his lips curve, smirk practically dripping off his face.

You opened your mouth, preparing a witty comeback only for a string of moans to come out as Lando traversed deeper into your burning core, taking on every crevice and fold.

A groan escaped Lando's lips, pulling away for a brief second. "I missed how good you taste, so fucking sweet," he sighed out, delirious.

Your toes curled at his words, hands reaching for his head as he returned back to your pussy, Lando's own hands moving to your inner thighs to expose you entirely to him. His tongue had found your clit once again, unleashing his torturous attack.

"Oh God," you cried out, hips bucking themselves further into his tongue as the signs of your upcoming climax approached. You didn't think you could last any longer, especially not when Lando slipped two fingers inside you, making you clench around around him.

"Fucking hell," Lando rasped against your clit, speeding up his pace. His fingers move in and out of you rapidly, tongue flat against your clit as you trembled in his hands.

The dazed look in your eyes, the sunken teeth, the clenching of your walls...

Lando eagerly pulled you closer if possible, hoisting a leg over his shoulder, sending an entirely different realm of pleasure across your body.

"Lando!" You sobbed, hands tightening their grip on his hair.

He moaned, maintaining his pace. "Come, baby. All for me, come on. Show me how good I make you feel."

You felt undone at his words, body convulsing as the big waves of your orgasm hit you hard. Your walls clenched and pulsed around his fingers.

Lando couldn't tell whether his heart was fluttering or whether his cock was throbbing, probably both, but he had once committed this ruined sight of you to his memory not too long ago, and God, he had been dying to see it again.

The strain in Lando's voice was impossible to miss. So was his aching cock standing straight against his stomach. "I need you... so bad," he murmured, pussy-drenched lips against your ear.

You couldn't help but shudder at his words. Only minutes had passed since your orgasm but fuck, you needed him as much as he needed you.

With a series of nods, you beckoned him over, bringing your lips to his for a brief minute. Your hands trailed over his chest, grazing the back of his neck before finding their place on his upper back.

A low sigh blew from Lando's lips, his eyes trailed to where your hips met before coming back up to meet yours. For a moment, he allowed himself to revel in your touch before holding your gaze firmly. He called your name. "I love you. So fucking much. You're all I want... forever."

His confession made you warm all over. You could feel your eyes water slightly. With a tight smile, you brought your hand to caress his cheek, feeling him lean into your touch. "I love you too."

Those words were music to his ears. Without a second to waste, his hips moved, cock thrusting into you so deeply that you can't help but let out a small cry of pleasure, hand covering your mouth.

Lando wanted to fold. Right there and then. You felt so good around him. As though heaven had found him. But all he could do is moan your name, feeling you tightly clench around his cock.

His eyes flitted to your face when he heard your muffled moans. His arms stretched out to keep your hands away from your mouth and on his back. "Let me hear you, baby. Yell my name. Tell me how good you feel."

Your body jolted as his thrusts became deeper and somehow, you felt like you were only becoming more aroused. Your skin felt sticky, riddled with sweat as your slickness coated your thighs.

Lando groaned at the sight. You were making a mess of him, dripping all over his cock as your eyes became lost in a haze. His hand reached out, jutting your chin to make sure you were looking at him. "Keep looking at me. Look at what you do to me."

Lando's grip on your waist tightened, pulling you over so you straddled his cock, riding him into a new oblivion.

And you did look. You watched him fuck into you with a speed and depth you had missed so dearly. You watched him memorise you as though he was afraid to forget you. You watched him make love to you.

Your second orgasm began to build up as the obscene sounds of your skin slapping against one another filled the room. Your body shook at the feel of Lando's thumb against your clit, rubbing you as he entirely ruined you.

"Lando, I–" you mewled, unable to get the words out.

"I know," Lando responded, holding the same level of restrain and pleasure as his own climax built up. "Cum," he almost cried out, "please."

You could barely keep your eyes open as the tight coil in your stomach snapped. You trembled in his grasp, cumming all over his cock, hips almost unstoppable as they chased those waves.

The tight clench your orgasm brought around his cock sent him over. Lando fingers sunk into your skin. "Fuck, where, tell me where," he begged, impossibly close.

You quivered, still in the remaining moments of your orgasm. "Inside," you panted, "please, Lan." There's nothing more that I want than your cum."

Lando rasped, hips stilling at your words as his cum spilled into you, filling you in all the the right places. His grip on you loosened as he slowly pulled out of you.

You shivered at his fixated gaze of your mixed cum seeping out of your pussy. Lando fell into the bed, closing his eyes, muttering things under his breath to restrain himself. You held in your laughter as he left the bed, almost painfully, to grab a wet towel from the bathroom to clean you up.

You kissed his cheek gently, thanking him as he finished cleaning all the witness dripping your thighs. Putting aside the towel, you pulled the duvet over you and Lando, nestling up to his warm body.

You could feel the softness of your mattress and duvet conform around your body while Lando rested beside you, taking you in. You mended your brows at the sudden silence. "Penny for your thoughts?" You queried, poking his cheek before rubbing his face with the pad of your thumb.

Lando leaned into your touch, warm blue eyes grazing over your face. "I missed you," he murmured, pressing a kiss onto the side of your hand. "Every day without you felt miserable and now... I can't believe you're actually in front of me. "

Your eyes softened. "I'm here," you reassured, "forever."

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[jellymochii]

Stray Kids - A/B/O Headcanons

𓃦 pairings: ot8 wolf hybrid!skz x wolf hybrid!reader

𓃦 genre: Werewolf AU, fluff, angst, SMUTTY SMUT SMUT

𓃦 cw: Smut, unprotected sex(pls no), mating/knots, cunnilingus, p in v, hybrid smut.

𓃦 wc: 2.7k

↪author's note: hello! sorry for the delay, just started nursing school and med math is kicking my ass. anyways next up is sub skz, then dom txt, and then aespa first date fluff! Hope you enjoy!

(Also all of the members are either an Alpha or Beta, you're the only omega.)

**THIS IS PURELY A WORK OF FICTION AND DOES NOT REFLECT THE TRUE NATURE OF THE PEOPLE MENTIONED**

☾ Bang Chan - Leader/Alpha

Yeah ok this one was kinda obvious.

He's the leader of the pack and the protector of all of you. He'd stop at nothing to keep you and the pack safe.

Thus, you were mated to him first-his soulmate. He knew it the moment he saw you, that you were the omega he was told about all those years ago.

And dear God, he's extremely possessive over you–hence why he had the honor of being the first one to bite you and claim you.

Even though he so graciously shares you with the rest of his beloved pack, he would kill anyone, even a member of his pack, to protect you.

This also ties into his ruts. When he's rutting, no one is allowed within 5 feet of you. He's got you in the safe house, making the others bring food and water often, all while he swells you full of his knot more times than you can count.

While he's normally sweet alpha channie in bed, if he's rutting--lets hope you make it out without a sore and leaking cunt (you won't, sorry.)

You're in your heat at the same time as his rut, though? Oh, it's heaven. He can absolutely keep up with all your pent-up frustration from needing to be filled to the brim with his knot. You’ll get exactly what you need from him!!

“Nngh, baby, Alpha’s gonna knot you full of his pups, kay? Stay still omega, let Daddy fill you.”

Once his rut is over and your cervix is practically overflowing with his cum, he'll always run you a warm bath and tell you what a good omega you are for him–and how you're everything to him.

Outside of the bedroom, he's always attentive too–he seems to be very in tune to your emotions and can often feel them as if they were his own. Almost like the two of you had tied souls.

You're his love and his pride and joy, no matter what.

☾ Lee Know - Second In Command/Alpha

Ok, I know beta Lee Know with alpha tendencies is what we’ve all agreed on, but hear me out–

He’s the 2nd oldest and Bang Chan’s right-hand man–responsible for all kinds of discipline and training when Chan is at work.

This also includes when you decide to defy him or the rest of the pack–Yeah, you're in for it.

Even if he loves you now, it still took him a while to fully accept you as a member of the pack. He was naturally suspicious of you, but once he became more comfortable around you and saw how well you treated the boys–he began to truly love you.

Home cooked meals for you and the boys 24/7. Even if he's sick, he won't let you lay a finger on anything in the kitchen–he thinks that his omega shouldn't ever have to lift a finger.

He often has to isolate himself in the safe house during ruts because of how intense they are for him and how scared he is of hurting you.

Takes items you gift him from your nest with your scent on them and ruts into them, absorbing every drop of your delicious scent coming from them–wishing it was you he was giving his knot to.

If he's not rutting and just feeling a little romantic (or pissed off at you for being bratty), rest assured you're getting several knots out of him.

“Yeah, you want my knot, little omega? Then you better behave if you want it–only good sluts get filled.”

Lots of spanking and doggy style in general, the way you yelp when he tugs your hair from the back drives him mad.

Ugh, and he's always sooooo deep in. You feel like your guts are being rearranged.

He's a sweetie pie afterward, food and water for you right away. Even if sometimes he's cold or standoffish towards you, he'd risk his entire life for you over and over again if it meant staying by your side.

☾ Changbin - Head Beta

Changbin is the muscle of the group in terms of protection and just carrying around heavy stuff for you and the others.

He also is responsible for keeping the other betas in line when an alpha isn't present, he's not strict by any means but has a big sense of responsibility when it comes to protecting you and his pack.

Loves you so so much! He always tries to make you laugh whenever he picks you up bridal style and swings you around like a baby.

Works out diligently around the clock to be strong for you and his pack. Similar to his alpha, Lee Know, won't let you lift a finger and always does the heavy lifting for you.

Thinks it's cute when you go to the gym with him to spot him and gain some muscle of your own (you'll be carrying LOTS of pups in your arms soon!) and somehow scares away every man who tries to approach you.

His ruts are so humbling for him. Before you came into the pack, he was angry and used to throwing things around during his rut because of how bad it was. But now? He’s oh so desperate and pathetically whiny.

“Jagiiii p-please, Binnie needs you–it hurts so bad!”

If you do eventually cave in, he's surprisingly more gentle than the rest of the boys in rut. He knows his cock is so thick that it'll split you open, so every bone in his body tells him to fuck you gently.

Loves showing off his strength by fucking you while holding you, or having you pushed against the wall with your legs wrapped around him so his knot reaches oh so deeper.

Becomes very possessive over you in general while fucking. He'll leave hickies all over your neck, sometimes even next to the other pack member’s bite marks-just to show them who made you feel this good.

You're insanely dizzy afterward from how full you are with his pups and how deep his knot inflated your poor cervix.

Don't worry! Binnie takes the best care of his baby afterward. You're the love of his life, after all.

☾ Hyunjin - Beta

Certified Lover Boyyyyyy

Like Lee Know, he was a little unsure of you joining at first because of how he's been hurt in the past.

Once he opens up to you, he falls head over heels in love with you. Every painting and every song on his guitar suddenly becomes about you, his omega, and his muse.

He likes to take you out into flower fields to have picnics and draw with you. He'll snap unsuspecting photos of you smiling with a flower in your hair so he can paint it later.

You're his whole world. Truthfully, he hates having to share with you with the rest of his pack, but there's not much he can do as a Beta other than steal a blanket from your nest when you're not looking so he can rut into it.

Same for his rut, he'll take all of his paintings of you (some intimate) and a collection or clothes he's taken and absolutely soil them within 1 day.

Thus, he gets scolded and punished by you and the Alpha’s frequently for tampering with your nest–but he can't help it! He needs your scent surrounding him, or he'll go feral.

Sometimes, if he's pre-rut and starting to get overstimulated, he'll sneak into your bedroom and suck on one of your nipples for comfort. You don't mind–and it usually leads to something else anyway.

Practically worships you in bed, especially if you volunteer to help him during his rut--he's so grateful to be in your generous presence. He'll make sure your needs are put before his own, always out of habit.

“Baby–fuck, I love you so much~! I'm gonna give you my agh–knot, all for you.”

His orgasms hit him so hard, especially when you're cumming at the same time as him.

You've never felt more loved in your whole life than when you're with him. You've got him wrapped around your finger 24/7.

☾ Han - Beta

Oh my sweet sungie, he's totally obsessed with his omega.

He's definitely more docile and fragile compared to the rest of his pack, but he's still got some fervor in him when it comes to protecting you.

He’s basically the pack's emotional support. He has his own omega tendencies in a way that his pack clings to him naturally, too.

Was the first one to get attached to you besides Chan. He loved you the moment you walked into the pack house.

Needy asf. Like actually begs for attention 24/7 from you.

He gets HUNGRY when he's rutting, both for his snacks and for you–more specifically, for your pussy.

He could lay there for hours mindlessly eating you out like it's his last meal. He wears the title of Pack Munch with pride.

If he's rutting he goes feral over the scent of your cunt, even from far away. He'll devour you while humping the mattress and blankets below him, and he's cum from it quite a few times.

He's the boy you wanna call if you wanna cum over and over again in your heat on just a tongue. Likewise, his own rut calms down and passes by quicker when he's scarfing your juices down like a dehydrated wild animal.

“Cum for me…pretty please omega? I know you cannn.”

He can definitely use his dick when he needs to, though. His only problem is how violent his orgasms wash over him when his knot is deep in your cunt.

Ughhh, he's so obsessed. Please tell him what a good job he did and how you're his omega forever.

☾ Felix - Beta

Felix is the medical expert of the group. He tends to wounds anyone in the pack receives and gives the best massages.

His love language is touch, so you better expect him sneaking into your nest and nuzzling his nose into your soft skin while he kneads at your thighs.

When he's not busy tending to the other members, he loves to bake alongside Lee Know. If you have a bad sweet tooth, he's the guy to call–for cookies and cuddles.

He likes having you in his lap while he plays video games or watches Disney movies with you (please don't make him sit through Twilight again. He's team Jacob and suffers watching it).

He might be the smallest of the pack, but he's feisty when it comes to you! If another member comes and tries to steal your attention while he's laying beside you, he'll snarl at them (and probably get scolded, but he doesn't really care).

Like Changbin, his ruts are also humbling for him. Poor baby is so whiny and cries at night from the pain of his rut–and not having you there with him in the safe house.

“Baby p-please! I'll be gentle, I promise! I'll take–fuck, anything.”

You feel way too bad about not helping him, so even if you just hold your hand out for him to rut his cock into–that's more than enough for him to spill his seed all over.

Sitting in his lap while he thrusts up into you at an unbearable pace is all you need to have your gummy walls clench around him, causing his knot to inflate deep in your cervix.

He swears he'll pull out because he knows he'll get scolded for it–yet he never does. The feeling of burying his pups deep in you is something no amount of scolding and punishment could ever make him stop.

Loves cuddling in the bathtub with you as a form of aftercare, he'll nuzzle his nose into your neck and pepper kisses over the hickies he left, and treat them the best.

What can I say? He's a sweetheart.

☾ Seungmin - Beta

Seungmin is the cheeky and youngest Beta in the pack, and often the source of many headaches for Chan and the other alphas.

He didn't take too kindly to you when Chan introduced you at first, causing him to snarl at you the first few days when you passed by.

This in turn, led to an argument which caused him to destroy your nest out of anger. He was punished accordingly by the Alpha's and forced to apologize.

He was planning on giving a half-assed apology to you–but when tears started pouring down your cheeks as you cried and asked “Why do you hate me, Seungmin? I love you, and I love this pack.” His heart hurt as he began to reassess his entire world view.

He's never heard anyone say “I love you”, not even his own parents. He couldn't forgive himself for months and spent many hours showering you in gifts and trying to win you back. He even snuck one of his pillows into your nest so you'd associate his scent with safety.

One day, he came home with a puppy plushie Felix said you'd been eyeballing at the mall alongside a bouquet of roses, to which you felt relieved and cried that he finally had accepted you.

“Y/N…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so mean to you, and I-I love you too.”

He spends his ruts with the stuffed he gave you since it has your scent on it and reminds him of you. Don't worry, he'll stitch it up soon–but for now he has to fuck the hole he tore into it for some form of relief.

If you choose to help him while wearing the collar with “KS” on it that he got for you–oh boy, he's done for.

You'll have knot after knot while he tugs on your collar and humps you from the back.

“Fuck, You're so sexy like that. All this ass for me?”

He still tends to be gentler with you, he's still learning how to love, but he knows no matter what he has so much love for you!

☾ Jeongin - Alpha

Baby Alpha Jeongin on top!!

He still doesn't know how to control his instincts when you first enter the pack, so he has to be kept away from you at first and only be given selective clothing of yours with your scent on it to get used to your scent.

…He likes it way too much. So much so that he'll surround himself in your donated clothes while aggressively rutting into your favorite blue blanket (They're too soiled in cum to be salvaged, sorry.)

This in turn becomes a major problem for him. When he first gets to meet you face to face and gets a whim of your scent, he goes feral and has to be physically held back by Chan and Changbin to prevent him from knotting you.

You, on the other hand, thought it was adorable. So much so that the next time you donated some clothes, you made sure to release your sweet juices all over them before giving it to him–Chan was not enthused but decided to indulge him nonetheless since the poor boy was having a really bad rut.

Oh boy, did it drive him absolutely insane. The whole safe house was torn to shreds in less than 24hrs from how feral he went from the scent of your arousal.

The next time his rut came around the two of you had become well adjusted to each other. He found that he would have to distance himself often to prevent himself from pouncing onto you and taking you right there.

You offer to help him during his next rut and swear up and down to the pack that you'll call for help but it becomes too much, but you don't need help when Jeongin is hitting all of your sweet spots~!

Especially when he's pounding into you at a brutal pace while strangled growls and cries spill from his mouth as he bites down onto your shoulder.

“Nnnngh, I'm gonna cum holy shit~!” or “No-stay fucking still omega, I need to knot.”

He truly feels so loved when he has you under him so submissive like this–he knows deep down he’d do anything for you.

He’s a sweetie pie and deserves the world.

[martinluvrr]

OUR THING | PAIGE BUECKERS

⋅˚₊‧ paige bueckers x rivals!reader

⋅˚₊‧ summary: you just can't come between them, they got their own thing.

⋅˚₊‧ duayaps; in honor of 'whore anon'. ( i'm in my gracie abrams era ). enjoy.

⋅˚₊‧ warning: 18+ , smut, degrading terms.

⋅˚₊‧ nav ||

"There is absolutely history there" Diana Taurasi said, you sighed closing your laptop. Another opinion you didn't need. Two days ago was one of the most intense games you've had in your college career.

Number 5 and you weren't exactly buddies with each other, once upon a time you were. In high school, you both were attached to the hip, best friends. At the end of Paige's senior year, you had grown a small crush on her. Of course you didn't dare act on it.

When Paige committed to Uconn, you were so happy for her. This is was just a step closer to her dream, a small part of you knew that her and you would have distanced between each other, but you never knew that that it would end with you and paige having no contact.

It just stopped slowly, she was getting distant and you assumed she was just busy.

But when you faced your first game as a rookie against Uconn, you got a rude awakening of how Paige was going to treat you for the next 4 years. No talking, like literally not even a glance from her. And if she was going to treat you like that, you would return her behavior.

Of course, after that, USC and Uconn had a lot of games after. So it became more intense, more aggressive. While you were guarding her, you got more fouls than you would ever get in normal games. And then she started trash talk, and while you knew she wanted a reaction out of you, you didn’t give her one.

But after one hard hit on the floor, which led you to stepping out of the game, she talked to you normal , for the first time in 2 years.

“You okay?”

“Yeah”

After that short conversation , you started getting confused. She was still the Paige from your freshman year, but now, when you would hit the floor, she was the first one to come to your aid and help you. Even when she was the reason you were down in the first place, she would place her hands on your waist and help you up.

This was weird, one minute you’re trash talking and pushing each other, and the next she was picking you up from the floor.

Of course, everybody wanted an answer. An answer that you didn’t have, and you were sure that Paige didn’t have one either. It was natural for Paige to help you. Almost like a reflex.

Two days ago, you stood on the Uconn court. An army of students chanting behind you, you could feel your nerves getting agitated, this one random guy kid would not stop yelling the most disrespectful things at you, you knew he was a fan in adrenaline but still. It started out small, which you didn’t mind because that just motivated you more, but then it turned south. "you got nothing on us" , "can't even hoop" , "you can't play for shit" , “we’re too good for you” , “get back in the kitchen” .

You ignore him, in hopes that he would leave you alone, but nope. He didn’t, just kept on going. While you finally tuned him out, you turned to your opponent. Paige was glaring daggers at you.

“bunny” She teased. You only returned her cold stare with one of your own. Her nickname was used to mock you, your soft and sensitive demeanor was known through college basketball. After Paige started calling you bunny, everyone did.

The game started, things were going okay, your team was only down by a couple points. Halfway through the game, you didn’t her the annoying voice and let out a breath of relief. That’s before…“Whore” he screamed out.

You let out a frustrated sigh, before taking a few more steps away from him, but while you ignore him. Paige didn’t, and she was pissed.

“What the fuck did you just say?” She stepped out of the court, the referee blew his whistle. Everybody was watching this exchange. But people were also watching you, and you stood there frozen, totally didn't expect this to happen. From the corner of your eye, you saw both teams coming your way, while Kk gripped Paige's elbow trying to get her away from the scene. Paige didn't budge, her angry eyes still laid on the guy.

"I said what the fuck did you just say to her?" She repeated again, the guy stood there, cheeks red by embarrassment, not a word out of him now. You felt yourself move to her, before gently tugging her elbow. She snapped her head to look at you, when she saw your worried face, she turned to the silent guy. "That's what i thought"

You, Paige and Kk returned to the court, you heard Paige behind you mutter "You okay?"

"Yeah" you whispered, nodding your head. After Paige explained the situation to both Geno and the referee, the guy was escorted out, and the game was back on.

Protective Paige was off and rival Paige was on, unfortunately.

☆

The game made headlines. It was all over tik tok before the game was even over, to the point that even Tana and Brooke talked about it. You tried to block out the videos, but they still showed up, it made you even more nervous. While you appreciated Paige sticking up for you, you knew that this was going to be on every press or media that you were going to be involved with.

Speaking of press.

"Paige, we heard a little argument that you had with one of your own fans in regard to a comment they made about your former teammate now rival Y/n, what was the comment ?"

"I'd rather not say, but former teammate or rival doesn't matter nobody deserves that kind of treatment and I just couldn't handle not saying something when i know that's not something that the team or Uconn stands for"

You re-watched that 15 second clip about 7 times before you turned your phone off. You admit , when you re-watched the game on your hotel rooms TV, it was kinda hot to see Paige sticking up for you. But you knew that the same similar treatment, your teammate experienced on your last game against Uconn, while it wasn't that degrading, you knew Paige heard, she was next to her.

So why did she continue to stick up for you? Why push me when you're gonna pick me back up? Why? Why? Why?

And forgot to mention, that people did notice that Paige didn't back off until you told her to. The whole 1 minute and 16 second exchange had been monitored and watched by millions in the span of 2 days.

"Her teammate couldn't get her on the court again until Y/n came and told her to let it go, like literally can't come between them, they have they're own thing, so cute tho biggest shipper of them..." You heard Brooke Schofield explain to her co host.

☆

"This is it" Juju said, removing her seat belt, you did the same. You were still in Storrs due to your flight being delayed so you and your best friend decided to make the most out of it. A bar was your first option,Teds looked cozy ,comfortable and small so you hoped it wasn't filled with people.

It was, Uconn students, to be more specific. When you and Juju first walked in, the first people you saw were the Uconn womens basketball team, great. While you tried to hide behind Jujus tall frame, Azzi Fudd was already making her way towards you, Paige trailing behind her.

"Hey, what are you guys doing here?" Azzi said, pulling you both into a hug, you heard a chuckle behind her. When you both pulled away from the hug, you heard Paige greet your teammate before turning towards you.

"Hey bunny"

"Hi"

You both stood there as your teammates were talking, Paiges eyes never left you. Even though you didn't look up from the floor, you could feel them from a miles away . When you finally got the courage to look at her, you saw a small smirk on her face. A cocky and confident one, it was your fault really, Paige knew she had this affect on you, and it made her want you more.

"Yeah were down" You heard Juju agree with Azzis invite, before the four of you made your way to the table, you told them you were going for a quick bathroom trip.

5 minutes later , the quick bathroom trip was turned into a quickie when Paige walked in and pushed against the wall while kissing you.

You felt yourself try to close your thighs, her hand slipped between them, stopping you. "Nah they stay open" you felt her say against your neck, her kisses started from your neck before she started making her way down your body.

When she made it her way to your pussy, you felt her place a teasing kiss on your inner thigh. "Paige please" you groaned, frustrated and gripped the bathroom sink.

"Please what princess?"

"Please... please..." you pleaded.

"Please wha-" she mocked you, the grip on your thighs tighten.

"Please lick my pussy" you cut her off. When you finally felt her tongue on you, you let out a breathless moan. She looked up at you, watching your expression, hearing your moans and when you finally looked down at her.

"Oh, oh" you moaned, her tongue now going fast and her kisses turned sloppy. Your hand was on her hair, your hand tightening on the hold.

"Yeah you like that?" she chuckled when you let out a groan, after having a taste of you, she was sure you were a drug, and she was addicted.

When she felt you arch your back, she sped up, her hand now rubbing your clit, you felt a pit form on your stomach.

"Oh P" the old nickname slipped out, Paige looked up at you, a small smile on her face.

"Cum for me baby" she commanded, her voice sent you over the edge, you let out a groan of pleasure, before feeling yourself release on her tongue.

After a long pause of you trying to regain your breath, she placed a small peck on your pussy before pulling your lace purple thong back up, not before placing another kiss on your inner thigh. As she appeared back to your face level, you couldn't help yourself and pulled her into a kiss. You felt her groan and smile against your lips. "I love how you get with me" . Your hair was a mess, you still couldn’t regain your breath and your lips were swollen.

When you pulled back, you looked at each other, the next seconds were spent with you both looking at each other adoringly. You couldn't help but ask "Why did you do that?" the mystery waited to unveil itself.

"Because no ones going to mess with you, not when i'm there" Your heart melted. This was Paige, while she messed with you, no one else can. Simply, you were hers.

You both were aware that the both of you looked like a mess when you went out of the bathroom, but neither of you cared. This was your thing, no one else mattered.

☆

thank you for reading <3333

[sarahowritesostucky]

Happy Little Family

📖"Taking Back What's His"

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6170

Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, rape, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", yandere, kid fic

Summary: You thought you'd left behind the man who turned out to be more dangerous than you'd ever imagined. But one day he walks back into your life and reminds you that, come hell or high water, you're all going to be one happy. little. family.

This chapter: You try one last, desperate ploy to escape, but it doesn't exactly work out. And James hasn't come alone. The next time you wake up, you're a long way from home.

Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one" pchelka = "little bee"

2. Taking Back What's His

(Wait! I haven't read part 1 yet!)

He says something to you, after. Words that might as well be in his native Russian, for how well you take them in. But they're soft, and reassuring—he’s pleased. His body weight moves off the bed.

When you finally open your eyes and blink up at the ceiling, it’s the softest baby pink all around the edges, like smoke curling into your vision. It’s nice, peaceful. Feels good-all-over in that way that painkillers do. You haven’t experienced it since the last time you had sex with an alpha.

Which James unfortunately seems to have figured out was with him, almost two years ago. 

“Oh, kotenok, You haven’t been fucking anybody.” 

You’re still in the afterglow, mind muzzy, all of your previous panic and fear blunted near to the point of erasure with how nice it feels to float, when you hear James’ pleased chuckle from where he’s getting dressed. He comes back and leans over you. “Hey Sweetheart. Feeling good?” 

You frown at him, though it takes a concerted effort to make any expression of displeasure. You want him to know you aren’t happy, that this state he’s fucked you into isn’t real. You want to slap that smug fucking look right off his face. All you manage to come up with is a pouty little “no" that makes James laugh.

“Come here.” He fixes your dress, then helps you up off the bed. He seems to be checking to make sure you’re steady on your feet before he lets you stand on your own. “You good?”

“M’fine.” He knows you too well, knows how intense it can be for you, how strongly you react to him. You avoid his knowing gaze. You’re not completely useless like this. You can still remember everything that’s going on, can still remember June. “Please,” you say again, trying to change the tone of your voice. “Let me give her to Hilde.”

James rolls his eyes. “Right, right. Your friend across the street.”

“Please James?” You look up at him, pink edges all around his face, so pretty. Goddamn him. “She’ll be safe there.”

Again, something passes through his eyes too quickly for you to identify. It might be annoyance. He sighs, and the look, whatever it was, is gone. “Sure thing, Doll. Babies need a lot of stuff. You might as well pack up what she needs.”

You nod tearfully, going to your closet to grab a bag. He follows close behind, sending a clear message that he’s not planning on letting you out of his sights while you do this. James isn’t stupid, you’ll give him that.

In the nursery, June is happy to see you and wants you to pick her up. You talk to her in a sweet, placating voice as you go around the room grabbing different things that she’ll need and stuffing them in the bag. At this point you know to be grateful for the haze. Even as it tapers off, it’s blunting the sorrow that you know would otherwise have you sobbing and your voice clogging with tears. This way at least, you’re able to keep June thinking everything is alright. This way she isn’t scared. 

It’s when you’re crouched beside the changing table, stuffing diapers into the bag with James behind you that you get the idea: Downstairs: the kitchen: in the drawer. Your gun.

You stop moving long enough that James notices. “What’re you doing? Come on.”

You stand back up. Yes. You have to do it. This is the only chance you have at getting out of this and not losing June. You lick your lips nervously before turning back around to face him. “I … have to get her bottles and stuff from downstairs,” you say, hoping that the lingering post-coital haze is enough to keep your true intentions off your face. Your eyes flick up to James, who’s squinting at your tits.

“Bottle?” He starts to smirk, and you glare at him.

“Yes. Asshole. I won’t exactly be around to feed her, now will I?” 

His face softens at that and he gives you an apologetic look. “Right. Well go on, then.” 

You move for the hallway, realize he’s not following you, and turn back in confusion. He’s beside the crib, holding his hand out for June to touch. Your heart leaps from your spot in the doorway. “What are you doing?”

He arches an eyebrow. “I’m waiting right here until you come back upstairs,” he says, his message clear. 

Your pulse picks up, but you force yourself to nod. You’re useless without that gun. You have to get to it. He narrows his eyes at you while June giggles and reaches for his wiggling fingers. “No games.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, and turn and head for the stairs. 

It’s pure torture to move at a casual speed, especially as your mind is clearing and the fearful emotions returning. In the downstairs hallway, you check once over your shoulder that James hasn’t followed you, then pick up your pace, hurrying into the kitchen and heading straight for the drawer where you keep the gun.

Your eyes tear up as you maneuver past the digital lock that you installed for nothing. June’s still crawling. She never even got old enough to toddle over here. You press the code into the keypad, cringing when it does its quiet little two-tone ‘beep’ at being unlocked. You wait, heart in your throat until you hear the mechanism moving, then rip open the drawer. 

Your heart stops and your brain freezes and all you can think is: No. No, no no— 

“Looking for this?” 

You whirl around, and there he is: standing on the other side of the kitchen, leaning against the sink as he holds your only weapon in his hands.

His face is relaxed, Goddamn him, as he pretends to ignore your horror and instead holds the gun up to flippantly inspect it. “I have to say, Doll, I’m impressed. I would’ve expected some puny girl gun. Ruger, Derringer. But this?” He turns the Skorpion in his hands, and chuckles softly when he sees the cartridge. “Jesus. You really wanted to blow a hole in somebody, didn’t you?” His eyes finally drag up to you, the hand he’s holding the gun with dropping down by his side as he starts walking over, slowly, step by step, eyes boring into you with a growing anger.

Oh shit. Dread curls in your gut but you’re frozen. Bolting now wouldn’t even get you to the staircase. He presses in close, pinning you against the countertop. He brings the gun up and nudges your jaw with it, leaning in and breathing in your face, “Did you really think I wouldn’t find it, vorishka?”[little thief]

He’s taunting you with your own failure, and you can’t stop the whimper that breaks from your throat at having your one and only plan foiled so pathetically easily. “James,” you plead, “I didn’t—”

“Shh sh sh. None of that, now.”  He’s speaking softly, sweetly, but he’s furious. He drags his lips over your cheek and the barrel of the gun you stole from him over the other. “So what was the plan? How were you going to kill me with my own gun? Pop upstairs and shoot up the nursery?”

“N-no.”

“Ah. Right. You’re smarter than that. You would’ve waited for me to come down and see what the fuck was taking you so long, or put it in the duffle and waited until we dropped the whelp off at the neighbors. Is that it?"

You sniffle and nod, angry at him for being such an all-knowing asshole. “You can’t hold that against me,” you say, trying to defend yourself.

He nods thoughtfully. “Hmm. Yes, I suppose you’re right. I can’t blame you for that.” Your shoulders start to relax, that is until he pulls back to glare at you and holds the gun to you again, this time pointing it right underneath your chin. He looks angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “But do you know what I can hold against you, Little thief?” Your face pinches in fear, sure that you’re about to be shot, and he digs the muzzle cruelly into your skin, forcing you to look at him. “The fact that that pup up there is ten months old, and I’ve never even fucking seen her.” 

Your eyes widen as you realize: he knows. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but he beats you to it.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to tell she’s mine?” 

“James,”

“All this time!” he hisses, hurt lancing through his features. “You kept her from me! What gives you the right?” 

“I—I didn’t—”

He growls and pushes away from you, several steps back, glaring. “Nothing, is the answer you’re looking for. You had no right to do that.” 

You try to edge to the side, but freeze when he straightens his arm and points the gun right at you. “James, wait …”

He aims it at your face, but then lowers it for a center mass shot, which is what really convinces you you’re about to die. “Say goodbye, mamochka,” he says, with steely eyes and his finger curling over the trigger. 

It’s a submachine gun that fires in three shot bursts, or fully automatic. Either way, you know you’re about to be riddled with bullets, so you start to hyperventilate. It’s an embarrassing reaction, but at least you have the dignity of knowing what your last words on this earth would’ve been. “Don’t hurt her,” you gasp.

His eyes fill with rage and he pulls the trigger. 

… Nothing happens, but you’re bracing so hard that it takes you a full two or three seconds to realize it. Then, when you do realize it, and you see James standing there looking grim but completely unsurprised that you haven’t been shot, all of the breath rushes out of your lungs. You feel like you’re about to faint, which is apparently what he’s waiting for. 

He ejects the empty magazine, shaking his head in disbelief. “You really thought I’d do it, didn’t you?” He takes a step forward, but pauses when you flinch back. “What the hell have you convinced yourself that I am?” 

You step back again when he moves. “Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t.”

“Don’t, don’t,” he whispers, mocking you. “Don’t what? Don’t take back what’s mine? The mother of my pup? A pup I didn’t get to see grow or come into this world?” Your breath hitches with emotion and he doesn’t miss it, the bastard. “Yeah,” he says darkly. “You robbed me of that. But I’ll get over it, don’t worry.”  He leers up and down your body in its flimsy sundress. “I’ll be putting another one in you real soon.”

You see red. Fury sweeps through you and stings your eyes, roars in your ears. You grab the nearest thing to you, which is the edge of the utensils crock on the counter. It spills over and your hand closes around the handle of the meat mallet. You cry out and swing at him, wanting to smash his smug fucking face to smithereens. 

“Woah-ho, easy there.” He laughs and takes a surprised step back, as though you’re nothing but a tantruming child. “Stop being so dramatic.”

You growl and lunge for him again, but cut off in a shriek as someone suddenly grabs you from behind. The meat mallet clatters to the floor as you’re hauled back against the hard body of another man. One big arm wraps around your middle, and the other holds a cloth up at your face, pressing it over your mouth. “Mmph!” you yell out, muffled, and get a huge inhale of chlorine-like smell into your lungs for your trouble. You hold your breath and thrash, but it’s less than useless. The person holding you is large and strong. When you try to headbutt him, it doesn't even clip his chin. You bring your hands up to try and claw at the hand holding the cloth over your mouth, but your nails meet metal instead of skin, and you gasp in another inhale of chemicals as you realize who it is. “Mmph!”  

James steps up close, smirking fondly as he watches you fighting the urge to inhale. Eventually he tuts and reaches up to cup your cheek. “Shhh, omegechka. Stop. Stop fighting now. It’s all over.” 

“Nngh!”

“Just take a deep breath and go to sleep. Everything’ll be alright, I promise. Just relax.” You whimper as you feel yourself running out of air, knowing that your body’s going to force you to draw breath in a second. James leans in and kisses your forehead tenderly. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispers, just as your vision starts to fade out, “or our daughter.”

The smell of professionally scented, circulating air hits you first, and then the taste of old pennies in your mouth. Then, a gradually increasing sense of awareness of your body in space and time. At first you think you're somewhere very bright, as colors and rainbows dance through your lashes, but the more you blink your eyes open, the more the brightness fades and your vision comes into focus.

And there he is: holding a crystal tumbler and looking like he's been waiting for you to come round. "Well hello there, Sleepyhead,” he says. “Welcome back." He takes a sip of whatever it is he’s drinking, the ice cubes clinking softly against the sides of the glass. He looks totally relaxed.

You sit up straighter in the seat where you’d been slumped, moving your tongue around inside of your dry mouth and trying to remember what happened. And then reality hits you in waves, each one more devastating than the last:

James—He found you. 

June—She's not there.

"How're you feeling? Thirsty?"

You blink, dazed, a few lingering specks still floating at the edges of your vision. You look around the room you’re in, clocking your surroundings. Windows, cabin—Shit. You're already on a plane. Pressure builds rapidly at the backs of your eyes as you fight not to cry, thinking of your baby girl left behind, never getting to see her again.

You didn’t even get to say goodbye. 

Bucky’s eyes sharpen on you when your stifled sob breaks out and you throw a hand over your mouth. "Steve,” he says, still watching you in concern. “Get her a bottle of water."

“Sure thing, boss.”

And then the worst realization of all: You look over and see the winter fucking soldier walking down the aisle, holding your baby.

They've got June.

Your eyes widen and you make a distressed little ‘meep’ of a sound. “Steve!” you blurt, and he turns to face you. He looks surprised that you’ve spoken directly to him. He’s not wearing his usual black mask, but he still looks huge and intimidating, and it’s like seeing a wild animal right next to your baby—dangerous, wrong. Your mouth works uselessly as you stare at his hands on June’s body: one supporting her head, and the metal one scooped under her butt. You see her back rise and fall steadily through her bumblebee onesie and you realize that she’s asleep. “I-is she okay?” you ask, heart in your throat. 

Steve’s eyes narrow at you, but he nods curtly. “She’s fine.” 

Across from you, James scoffs, drawing your attention back to him. “He’s going to put her down. There’s a crib in the back. She’ll be fine,” he says, when he sees you stiffen in protest. “You and I have some catching up to do, vorishka.”

“I thought we did that back in my bedroom,” you snap.

“You still want the water?” Steve asks.

“That’s okay.” Bucky keeps his eyes on you. “I’ll take care of her. You just stay back there with pchelka while she sleeps.” 

Steve nods, and you can’t help yourself. “Wait! Please. Please give her to me. Steve?” You sit forward with your arms outstretched, but can only watch helplessly as the other man obeys Bucky and ignores you, disappearing back into the next section of the plane. Bastard never did like you. 

“She’ll be fine,” Bucky assures you. “Just sit back and relax. We won’t be in the air for too long.”

You hate it, but you do sit back in the chair. James won’t hurt her. You know that. Especially now that you know he knows. You look around the cabin, taking in the wide, leather seats and gleaming wood finishes. There’s a couch, tv, a bar. A fucking electric fireplace. It's the sort of luxury you used to go starry-eyed over; incredibly rich men, fat or old or ugly, tripping all over themselves to spoil you.

… Only, James was never any of those things.

“This is your plane?” you ask, dragging your hand over the arm of your seat.

James smirks. “What? You thought I’d kidnap you and then fly commercial?” 

You purse your lips at his joke. “I guess not.” You relax back, trying to get your bearings. It is bad news that you’re already on a plane with him. You’ll be landing at his private airstrip at the Siberia compound, which gives you no middle ground to run. You bite your lip as your thoughts race and you try to think of anything you might be able to do once you get to—

“Stop it,” James says quietly, drawing your attention back to him. He’s giving you a stern look. “You barely got away before, and that was on your own. Now we’ve got our daughter. Anything you try will put her in unnecessary danger and you know that.” He shakes his head, some of that sadness from before creeping back into his eyes. “You’re not leaving me again, omegechka.”

“I’m not?” you echo, stuck in place by his stare, by the memories you share with him, and the fear you have of what he’s planning for your punishment. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m just taking back what’s mine, Sweetheart. You do realize that?” You fail to answer him and his gaze hardens just a little bit. “That’s okay. You’ll see it eventually. This isn’t a bad thing. If you had just stuck around a little longer instead of lying to me and running off, then you would’ve seen it before, and we wouldn’t have to be going through this right now.” He raises his drink to you in a little salute. “You, me, and pchelka? We’re going to be a family.”

You don’t refuse the water he gives you, or the drink that he mixes for you, after. If James wanted to keep you drugged up until reaching Siberia, he certainly could’ve done so without allowing you to wake up on the plane. You’re only conscious right now because he wants you to be. And because you know that, you don’t protest the drink he prepares for you over at the bar. To be honest, a stiff one actually sounds really good right about now.

“Thank you,” you murmur as he hands it over, still unmoored by this drastic shift in circumstances. A few hours ago you’d been safe in your cottage, then suddenly you weren’t. One minute you’re sure you’re about to get a bullet in the face from this man, and the next, he’s got you sipping thousand dollar vodka on his private jet, calmly explaining how he intends to keep you and force you into some twisted form of domestic bliss. 

“I had a whole renovation done for her,” he tells you. “Pchelka will have plenty of room to play and grow.”

You frown, hating the idea of your daughter growing up in that cold, Siberian fortress. You don’t care if he’s bought her an indoor waterslide and a herd of ponies. It’s no place for a child. “What does that mean?” you ask grumpily. “That word: chelk—? You keep using it. You can’t just rename my daughter.”

Hurt flashes in his eyes, but he wipes it away fast. “Pchelka means little bee. The outfit you put her in has bees on it.”

“Oh … Right.” You love that set. It’d been another gift at the shower, from Hilde.

“And she’s my daughter too,” James says tightly.

You gulp at the bitterness in his tone, at his eyes boring into you with reproach. It’s silly, but you do feel bad about hurting him in this one way, at least. “Her name is June,” you offer quietly.

His face draws tight with emotion that’s impossible for you to decipher. Mostly you just sense hurt coming off of him, tingeing his scent and making it into something mournful and awful. He stares at you for a long time. “You made me think you’d lost it,” he eventually whispers. “How could you do that to me?”

You shake your head. “I’m sorry.” 

“No you’re not. You’re just sorry that I found you.”

“I saw you kill people, James!” you cry. “I saw who you really are. I couldn’t stay. Not after that.”

His mouth ticks up at the corners. “Oh, Sweetheart. You’ve got no idea who I am, or what I’ve done for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His eyes gleam and he lifts his drink, tipping back the last of it. “Do you even remember where we met?” 

You frown. “Of course.” You’d met him on a yacht, off the coast of Greece. At a party you’d been paid to attend as one of a flock of similarly hired ‘pretty girls’. Five hundred bucks just to sit around and drink cocktails for a few hours and make whoever owned the yacht look like a successful playboy. James had taken one look at you and made it his mission to charm you off of that boat with him. And you’d fallen for it, hook line and sinker. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You don’t know as much as you think you do,” he says disdainfully. “Don’t know how lucky you really are. I saved you.”

You scoff. “You’re no different from those boat guys. You think you’re so special, God’s gift to omegas, I get it.”

“No,” he grits. “You really don’t.”

“Don’t tell me what I don’t know! I know what I saw. All over the floor of your goddamn office. I slipped in it for Christ’s sake!”

“Right, right. The men you saw me kill,” he says, referencing the scene you’d walked in on just before you’d faked your miscarriage and fled. “You were eavesdropping outside the door, weren’t you, Little thief?”

You jut your chin out. “Yes. So what?” 

“You know, I’d always assumed you heard the entire conversation. Now I realize I was wrong.” 

“What?”

He laughs under his breath—at your expense, you suspect. “Who exactly do you think they were?”

“Your business associates. The same sort of underworld, black market scum as you. Only they didn't work for you. You screwed them over and they were there to collect what you owed them, and you murdered them instead.”

James scoffs and smiles angrily, sticking his tongue into his cheek as he looks away in frustration. "Figures," he mutters.

“What?” you snap. “You’re gonna deny it?”

“I’m not denying anything. But I killed them for you.”

“Oh please. Just stop it. Stop lying! I know what you do for work.” 

Granted, you'd been a little slow on the uptake back then, too enamored and swept up in the whirlwind romance with your first Alpha that you hadn’t ever stopped to wonder where his money came from, or where it was he jetted off to “on business” every few days. It’d taken a year for you to piece it together, to see the true magnitude of the enterprise he ran, and how dark it really was.

Sitting in front of you now, he doesn’t deny it, which only bolsters your disdain for him. “I don’t want that in my life,” you hiss. “Arms dealing, drugs, smuggling, mercenaries. And apparently human trafficking as well.”

His eyes flash. “They don’t call it that, you know. It’s called the ‘skin trade’.”

“I don’t care.”

He gets up to go pour himself another drink at the bar. “Right,” he snaps, like you’re an idiot. “You’re so fucking naïve, krasotka [pretty (n.)]. So convinced that I’m the devil. But you have no idea how much worse it could’ve been for you.”

“You threatened to sell your own daughter before you figured out she was yours!”

Refusing to be provoked, he returns to stand right in front of you, forcing you to look up at him towering over you. “I knew she was mine from the second I walked in that house,” he says, making your breath catch. 

“How?”

He smiles nastily and takes a sip from his drink, then sets it aside. He leans over you with his hands on the back of your seat, caging you in. You can smell the expensive alcohol on his breath as he gets in your face and tells you, “I put that baby in you, moya omegya. She’s a part of me. You think I wouldn’t be able to figure that out? Think an Alpha doesn’t know the scent of his own flesh and blood?”

You tense, fighting not to shrink away. “You’re making that up.”

He chuckles lowly and puts his face right next to yours, cheek to cheek, savoring your reaction. “Sweetheart,” he purrs, “I may not have forced a mating bite on you back then like I should have, but there are other ways to leave your mark on someone.” He dips in to kiss your neck, right over your unbitten glands. “I found you by your scent,” he whispers. “Sniffed you out.”

You shiver at his hot breath on your skin and the deadly soft tone of his voice. The way your body responds to him isn’t anything you can control, and he knows that, but it still makes you flush with embarrassment when he takes a deep inhale in the bend of your neck and hums with satisfaction when he smells the effect he’s had on you. “I wouldn’t have sold her anyway,” he tells you, pulling back and picking up his drink. “I want you to know that. I don’t participate in the skin trade.”

You swallow thickly, watching him watch you as he waits for you to react to him in some way. You don’t know why you believe him about this one thing, but you do. “But you’re aware of it,” you say. “You know it happens, and you don’t do anything to stop it.”

His jaw works in frustration. “I’ve interfered a time or two, when I could get away with it.”

“Well, aren't you a hero.”

“I didn’t say that,” he snaps. “I said I’ve done what little I could. These men make a lot of money dealing in omegas, and they don’t take kindly to being stolen from.”

“I can imagine.”

“No,” he mutters into his drink. “You really can’t.”

There’s something oddly bitter in his tone, like he's working hard not to tell you something. You bite your lip and watch him for a minute. “... How much?” you ask.

“What?” His eyes darken when he figures out what you’re asking. “No.”

“Tell me.”

“It depends,” he grits, glaring at you. "Now cut it out."

Sober, you might have; but half a vodka spritzer after nineteen months of no alcohol has you bolder than you usually would be. You look down at yourself, feigning flippancy. “Well what about me? How much would I go for?”

“Kotenok,” he warns lowly, growling when you continue to press him with a snotty little, 

“Come on, I thought you were such a dangerous criminal? You can’t even discuss a little human trafficking with the weak omega you just trafficked?” 

He probably knows you’re trying to antagonize him, but he still rises to the bait. He sits back and lets his eyes drag over your body in a way that makes your pulse pick up. “Well,” he drawls, “you just had a baby. So that’s less right there.” Your nostrils flare angrily and he gives you a look. “You’re the one who asked,” he reminds, waiting until you give him a nod to continue. He gives you another onceover, this time lingering in certain places longer, a softer look in his eyes for the softer parts of your body. He almost seems to get distracted. He catches himself overindulging and looks away, like it’s hurting him to consider you this way. “Most people want their omegas untouched,” he says quietly. “Especially if the buyer's alpha, which they usually are. It’s an instinctual thing for us. We’re very driven to possess. We don’t like to share.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” you mutter.

His gaze snaps back to you, a painful amount of familiarity in his eyes. “You’dve been a couple million, back when we first met.”

Your eyes widen. You weren't expecting that. “But … I wasn’t even a virgin.”

He arches an eyebrow. “I said untouched, not virginal. Not in that way. Alpha buyers want unbonded and never bred, first and foremost.” He leers at you. “Not that there aren’t some who’ll pay a little extra to pop a girl’s cherry. But that’s not the main thing they’re looking for, when they buy.” 

You scowl. “Right. So I guess I’m damaged goods now."

“Oh no, mamochka,” he says seriously. “You’ve only gone up in value in my eyes. Though believe me when I say I’m more than happy to contribute to the depletion of your market value." He raises his glass to his lips, looking darkly pleased. “You’re not for sale, and you never will be. You’re mine.”

You're embarrassed to be the one to break eye contact first, but you can’t keep listening to him talk about how much he likes you and watching him look at you like you’re his most prized possession. With any other man you’d just be disgusted, but James has always had a knack for getting you flustered, and he knows it. There’s always been an inexplicable pull between the two of you, and he knows that, too. It’s the main reason why you've always refused his attempts to bond you. You're terrified of what it’ll be like after, since you already know how pathetically helpless you are around him without a bond.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you mumble quietly. “Where is it?” 

“Just down there.” He nods in the direction behind you, opposite from where Steve had gone with June.

You press your lips together and get up without looking at him, but you can feel his eyes on you the entire time you’re walking away.

“Don’t take too long in there, kotenok,” he purrs from back in his seat. “Or I’ll have to come in after you.”

In the bathroom, you splash water on your face and lean against the sink, looking at the girl staring back at you in the mirror. You blink, and she blinks, but it feels like you’re looking at another person, someone you don’t know. She looks fragile. Tired, and dazed. June’s been sleeping through the night for months, but it’s been a hell of a day.

You scrutinize your reflection, smoothing your dress and tucking your hair behind your ears, thinking about how you have zero makeup on. Then you scoff at yourself for caring what you look like in front of him. You think about how much you’ve changed in the seventeen months since you ran away. Not just physically, but mentally. You’ve had to be so strong. For June, for yourself. It’s been awful, and lonely, and you’ve hated yourself for not being able to stop missing him. 

You sniffle and splash more water on your face, grumpily thinking that postpartum hormones are so much worse than the pregnancy ones. You grab the towel off the wall, but freeze when you bring it up to pat your face dry and get a smell of it.

Oh.

You whimper, unable to keep from pressing it harder to your mouth and nose and inhaling deeply. It’s James’ scent, and it smells so good. It smells like Safety and Love and Alpha. You hear the sound of your own, needy mewl and you gasp, yanking the towel away from your face and tossing it into the sink, trying to keep your shit together. You brace your hands on the counter and glare at your reflection to tell her to stop it, stop it, stop it, but all it takes is seeing your lower lip quiver, and soon your entire face is collapsing in long-repressed sadness. You turn away from the mirror with a pathetic noise, throat aching from the urge to keen. 

Why does this have to be happening?! You’ve tried so hard, for so long. To be strong for June, to get over him, to move on! You bury your face in your hands and choke on a wrenching sob. You know you have to be quiet, have to stop, have to pull yourself together before he—

A soft knock comes from outside the bathroom. “Doll?”

You whine and hastily search for a lock on the door, but there is none, and James hears your crying and pulls the door open. “Honey,” he mourns when he sees you. “What’s wrong?” 

You push past him, hurrying in the direction he isn’t blocking. “Leave me alone!” you cry, hating the blubbering in your voice that makes you sound just as weak as James thinks you are. You arrive in a perfectly made up bedroom with no point of egress other than the one you arrived through. You whine in distress, circle around helplessly, and then throw yourself onto the bed when he arrives at the doorway looking worried. “Leave me alone!” you cry, curling onto your side and pulling one of the pillows down to bury your face in. At least it isn’t suffused with James’ scent. You still cry though, unable to keep it in anymore now that you’ve started.

He tuts sadly from the doorway and comes into the room slowly. He stands there for a long minute, silent, before he sighs and his weight comes onto the bed. “Sweetheart,” he says.

“Just leave me alone,” you whine miserably. “Go away!”

“Shh sh sh.” He curls up behind you, arms around your waist and legs pushing in behind yours. He kisses your shoulder and hugs you, but it only makes you cry harder at how achingly familiar it is. “It’s okay,” he murmurs between kisses. He doesn’t try to get you to stop crying, or ask you what’s wrong. He seems to know exactly why you’re breaking down, and he simply devotes all his efforts to helping you calm down in your own time. “S’okay, s’okay. Everything’s gonna be okay,” he keeps saying, soothing you with a deep rumble in his chest. “I’ve got you, Sweetheart. I’ve got you now. It’s all gonna be okay. Shhh.”

At first, his placating makes you angry, but not enough to stop your crying, and once that tapers off from sobs to quiet, sniffling tears, you can’t seem to dredge up the anger anymore. It isn’t there. 

“You feeling a little better?” he asks kindly, gently tucking your hair behind your ear and then hugging you again.

You whine when you feel his lips against your neck. “I’m fine,” you rasp, voice coming out scratchy from all of the crying. You cringe and scrub your face into the pillow in embarrassment. “Just got a little sad.”

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly, giving you a supportive squeeze. “That’s okay.”

You hate how he says it, because it’s obvious that he knows why you were crying: Poor, sad little omega, bawling her eyes out over how much she’s missed her Alpha. He nuzzles into your neck, telling you it’s okay and that you’re allowed to cry. As much as you hate him being able to see into you so easily, you’re just grateful that he isn’t rubbing your face in it right now. The way he's holding you and comforting you feels good. You don’t fight to get away from him.

The two of you lie there together for what feels like a long time. Once you’ve stopped crying and are only giving the occasional sniffle for your runny nose, he goes back to running his hand over your side. It’s a gesture of comfort. He’s not groping you, but even still, you blush at the vulnerability of it. You find yourself glad that you’re facing away from him. 

The plane shifts noticeably, and James’ hand pauses on your hip. “Pilot said we’re landing soon,” he murmurs. “Should probably go and get pchelka up.”

You sniffle and fight off the urge of resurfacing tears at hearing him reference June. One day of knowing his daughter and already he’s got a nickname for her. You should be annoyed by that, but instead it just makes your heart squeeze with emotion. “Pchelka,” you whisper, trying out the word. 

“Yeah.” He hums happily and kisses your shoulder one last time. “Little bee. Come on. Let’s go.”

You don’t think about how it’s far too soon to have arrived at your destination, until you’re back in the main room of the cabin on the way to where Steve disappeared with June, earlier. You pause at the windows, peering out at the landscape. “This isn’t Russia,” you say, confused. The plane is definitely descending, but you’ve only been in the air for a few hours at most. “James?” you ask, as he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. Together, you both look out at the looming mountains and turquoise waters below. “Where are we?” you breathe.

James rests his chin on your shoulder and sighs happily. “Home,” he says. “We’re home.”

A.N.: See? Much less Rapey! Plenty more mega-dub con to come though, so don't you angst-lovers worry. Thanks for reading!💖Sarah

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[tinylilacbun]

Deadpool with a baby regressor that he met in Deadpool two after he was brought to the mansion. Regressor was saved by colossus and warhead from the people that experimented in Wade so originally colossus took care of her while little but never fully trusted him like she does with Deadpool.

l i t t l e s h a d o w ‎𓈒 ˖ ࣪ 𝜗𝜚

Wade has been at the mansion for a few days now, being a trainee for the X-Men has its perks but also means following those idiotic rules. It is what it is.

What he notices is that since his arrival he feels someone following around and watching him, getting a few glances at you before you disappear again.

One day his curiosity gets the best of him and he decides to ask Colossus about you, finding him eating cereal in the kitchen. "You know, either I'm starting to go insane or someone is following me." Wade starts instantly in a whisper, looking over his shoulder paranoid.

"Wade, it's too early for this-"

"No, I'm telling you- there!" Wade points at the doorway, a quiet giggle being heard before you bolt again.

"Oh. That's Y/n. We rescued her a few years ago from the lab you were at too. I'm warning you this once, watch yourself around her, she's a regressor." Colossus warns him, pointing a finger at him.

"Sorry, a what?"

"A regressor, it means she reverts to that mind of a child to deal with her trauma. She's one of the younger ones and regresses mostly to an toddler or baby headspace." He explains. "I promise you, if I hear one word from her that you made fun of her I'll personally-"

"Chill out, who am I to judge someone for the way they cope." Wade puts his hands up to calm him down. "What uh- what's the reason she does that? Hey, don't look at me like that I did listen this time but- y'know what I mean."

"She went exactly what you went through, but she was only 18 years old at that time."

Wade only nods, staying quiet for the first time in his life as he glances towards the doorway again.

Later that day he found himself walking around the mansion, accidentally breaking two or three things during his snooping when he passes a door that has colorful bold letters on it that spells your name.

He slowly pushes it open a bit, taking a peek inside and his eyes almost pop out of his head while taking in your room.

It is big, and looks like a daycare, with the walls painted a pastel pink and some cloud designs, a big rainbow carpet in the center, the canopy bed that could at least fit 5 people standing off to the side, and not to mention all different toys or activity possibilities.

You're currently laying on your stomach on the carpet as you color little doodles on a blank sheet with your crayons sprawled around you.

"Damn, it looks like a toy store threw up in here." He blurts out before he could stop himself.

You squeak in surprise, scrambling off the floor to climb onto your bed, hiding under the bedsheets.

Wade chuckles as he takes a few more steps into the room, his legs automatically taking him towards where you're hiding, the little giggles you let out not going unnoticed by him.

As he stands at the side of your bed he reaches out to pinch one of your toes that's peeking out from under the blanket, smiling when you quickly pull it into safety.

"Heard you're the baby of the X-Men." He says, refraining himself from laughing when you instantly push the blanket of you with an offended expression.

"You baby!" You stick your tongue out at him, crossing your arms.

"Oh, I can scream like one for sure." He huffs, smiling at the way you cover your mouth to stifle a laugh. "How old are you? I mean- like, right now in there." He asks, tapping your forehead.

You think for a moment, holding up one finger, shaking your head and changing it to two instead.

"Then you are a baby, a pretty cute one and with powers, that's kinda cool. Sweet yet deadly." He says and your face lights up at that.

Ever since that, Wade came to your room more often, finding the way you go through the world with such innocence despite what happened to you intriguing, and oddly comforting.

He likes the fact that he can rant whatever he wants while you just stare at him with big eyes, sucking up everything he says like a sponge, giggling sweetly every now and then or adding your adorable gibberish to which he absolutely agrees.

The others in the Mansion are shocked, to say the least, because usually you're in your room or don't have the courage to talk with anyone other besides Colossus, so the fact you're spending so much time with Wade of all people is something no one saw coming.

Colossus was wary at first, for obvious reasons, but he can see how much Wade changed you in the few weeks he's been here now, coming a little out of your shell and not hiding away as much as you used to, both of you quickly bonding over the fact you went to the same hellhole in the past.

Needless to say, you're not the X-Men's baby anymore, you're Deadpool's little peanut, and you're the happiest you've ever been since your rescue.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Oral Festivities - John "Soap" MacTavish x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: roommate au, flirting, gift giving, swearing, friends to lovers, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected piv, dirty talk

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: For Kinkmas 2024 (Face Sitting)

Stuck at home on Christmas Eve, your roommate, Johnny, surprises you with a gift he’s been wanting to give you.

ao3 // main masterlist // kinkmas 2024 masterlist

“All alone this year? Thought you were visiting family?”

You turn your attention away from the television and glance at your roommate, Johnny. It takes everything in you to keep your jaw in place.

There is no reason for a man to be this attractive. Johnny is freshly showered, his skin still speckled with a few spare drops of water. His dark hair is damp, the usual mohawk he sports combed to the side. The woodsy scent of his aftershave drifts around you, filling your lungs, and enveloping you in a tight hug.

Johnny grins, tipping his head to the side to rub his ear with the corner of the towel. "Did you hear me, love?"

Hells, why does he have to go and address you like that?

Every part of you tingles from the crown of your head to the space between your thighs. Your gaze roams downward, fueling the thought of licking up those droplets of water right off his pectorals.

"Plans were cancelled." Your voice cracks slightly and you cough to clear it. "Not going anywhere."

Johnny's face falls slightly. "Sorry to hear that." His handsome smile returns quickly. "Looks like it's just us."

Oh my God.

"Looks like it," you reply, heart thundering in your chest.

The snow outside is large and fluffy, blanketing everything it touches. There is little movement except for an occasional car braving the cold. It's unlikely that either of you are leaving this apartment anytime soon.

Johnny rubs at his other ear and plops down on the couch beside you, extending one arm across the back of the sofa. Other than the towel he’s holding, he's in plain black gym shorts. Every muscle is on display, and it has to be deliberate.

Johnny settles, the towel draped over one leg. "Is that friend of yours coming over?" he asks slowly.

You frown. "Which friend?"

Johnny side-eyes you. "The guy."

"Oh." You lick your lips. "No."

That guy. The casual hook-up. The guy that didn't "want to put a label" on the relationship. Really, he means nothing. The orgasms aren't even worth all the messages left on read.

Johnny grunts. "Did he get you anything?"

You laugh but it feels hollow. "I wouldn't exactly call us friends."

"Good."

"Good?"

"We're friends, no?" Johnny leans in, and you suddenly realize just how large and broad he is.

"Roommates," you reply softly.

"But friends?"

"Yes," you breathe.

Maybe more if you're open.

Johnny's grin is wide but not malicious. It's almost...flirty? No. That can't be. Sure, he moved in just six months ago, but that hardly accounts for anything. He's a responsible adult, and respectful of your space, but interested in you?

You think back, trying to rummage through every interaction. Old memories resurface, and you suddenly begin questioning every word and gesture. All those times he placed his hand on your lower back, of the pet names you originally dismissed as nothing, to the tight hugs when your jerk of situationship left you hanging.

How many times do you think about Johnny in a given day? About him being a possibility?

If you’re truly being honest, it’s far too many to count.

But that’s entirely one-sided. You don’t know his mind.

"I got you something," he says, voice a bit husky.

Johnny's timbre does something to you. Without thought, you scoot a fraction closer to him on the couch. Johnny matches the movement, his head dipping slightly. It's far too intimate.

"A present?" you ask, adding a bit of tease to your tone, your thighs rubbing against each other as your pussy clenches.

Johnny's cheeks darken slightly, a bit of pink kissing his skin. You're completely done for. There's nothing you won't give him.

Johnny cradles the side of your neck, thumb resting just shy of your lower lip. "One I've wanted to give for a while, love. If you want it."

If you want it.

"I'll take it."

Johnny's reply is a pleased sound that comes deep in his throat. Closing the distance, he presses his lips to yours. It's soft. Sweet. Not dominating or possessive, but a promise. If you let him in, if you keep going, maybe this might work out.

"Another?" he asks against your lips.

"Yes,” you sigh, wanting to breathe him in.

This time when Johnny kisses you, it isn't sweet. Each kiss is possessive, a needy thing that sends your insides twisting. His hand shifts position, moving to the back of your neck, grasping tightly. Reaching out, you place one hand against his firm chest, the hair there scratching your skin.

Fuck it. You need to assert some desire, to show Johnny that you'd enjoy more than just kisses.

Pushing on him, you shove Johnny back against the sofa, straddling his legs to settle in his lap. His smile is knowing—cocky. And then the two of you are right back to, all moving hands and desperate mouths.

Johnny lightly bites your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth, pulling a little moan from you. The tip of his tongue briefly brushes against it, and then he's teasing, wanting entrance. His hands roam, dragging and digging at your clothes.

One of Johnny's hands returns to the back of your neck, the tips of his fingers holding tight, dragging you away from his mouth.

"I've been wanting to do that for months."

"Months?" you ask, a little dazed.

"Months," he growls, leaning in to run his lips over your neck. He breathes you in, savoring your scent. "And that wasn't the gift."

"It's not?" Your question is more a gasp of air.

"No." Johnny lifts his head.

"What is it?"

Johnny presses his lips to your ear as his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pajama bottoms. "To taste you."

He guides them past your hips and over your ass before pausing at your thighs. Just another pull and they'll be halfway to your knees.

"Johnny," you gasp, fingers digging into his shoulders.

"Can I taste you, love?” Johnny’s lips brush against your cheek. “Will you spread those pretty thighs for me?" With a slight twist of his wrist, Johnny’s hand delves between your legs, the tips of his fingers brushing over your exposed clit. “Want to put my mouth here.”

His other arm hooks around your back. With a quick adjustment, Johnny goes onto his back with you straddling his lap.

“Right here, love.” Johnny gestures at his face. “Come sit on it.”

"But—but I'll—"

"You'll what? Crush me? Suffocate me?" He chuckles. "Promise you won't, love." Johnny leans back, head resting against the pillow. Lifting his hands, he gestures for you to get closer. "Come here to me."

As you go up onto your knees, Johnny helps you out of your pajama bottoms, leaving your lower-half completely bare. Just as you start to settle back into his lap, Johnny promptly grasps your thighs squeezing.

“Face. Now.”

With a strength that surprises you, Johnny drags you up the rest of his body, settling you down on his face without ceremony. Your hands go out to steady yourself. One lands on the arm of the sofa while the other finds Johnny’s firm chest.

His breath is hot against your sex, making you gasp at the contact. With a groan, Johnny's tongue teases your opening, not sliding in but just dancing around it. The tip of his nose presses against your clit. Each tiny movement causes it to rub against your clit, sending little bolts of pleasure up your spine.

“Oh—fuck. Johnny,” you groan, head falling back as his tongue marks a languid circle up and around your pussy.

His large hands are on your hips, keeping you in place. Each pass of his tongue is a delicious tease, but it’s not nearly enough. You need to feel him everywhere, to have him inside you, even if it’s just his tongue.

Another groan from Johnny, and this time, is vibrates against your sex. It’s followed by a gentle roll of his tongue. Your hand on his chest slips, sliding to his stomach. Johnny’s fingers flex and hold tight, bringing you closer until you swear you’ll suffocate him.

But it doesn’t seem to bother Johnny at all. His tongue delves inside, gently stroking as the tip of his nose continues to rub against your clit. It stirs the growing pleasure, pushing it to new heights. Your hips jerk, but Johnny holds form fucking your pussy with his tongue.

Johnny’s hands begin to move. One curves to the top of your hip, pressing down to keep you in place. The other ascends, slipping underneath your top to slide between your breasts. His heat is a brand. The sensation of his tongue inside you with the stimulation to your clit is quickly driving you toward the edge.

A guttural moan leaves your lips. You tip back further, hand sliding until you meet gym shorts, and a hardness that cannot be denied. You want to fuck this man, to rip off his shorts, and ride him until he’s shooting blanks.

Another dip of his tongue inside you. Another grinding against clit.

The orgasm bursts outward, pussy squeezing around Johnny’s tongue. He does not stop. Not until your thighs quiver and squeeze against the sides of his head.

Johnny’s hand disappears from your chest, and then he’s helping you off his face, bringing you to his stomach. The lust-drenched haze still clouds your vision. You’re not entirely aware of your surroundings until Johnny shifts up on his elbows.

You go for him just as he goes for you. He tastes of you, and that only spurs you on, to seek entrance with your tongue. Johnny obliges with a smile, even as he continues to come to a more seated position.

You’re both reaching for his shorts, shoving them down enough until you feel his hardness bounce against the curve of your ass.

“Get on my dick,” growls Johnny, as you shift backward, lightly nipping at your left nipple.

The head of his cock drags against your ass before coming to rest against your sex. It starts to press in. Johnny’s tongue brushes over the nipple he just teased with his teeth. Sliding down on him is both agony and bliss.

With a smirk, you pop your hips up before coming back down on him. Johnny’s eyelids flutter briefly in pleasure.

“And this is my gift to you, Johnny.”

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

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@keiva1000 @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff

@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[spicycinnabun]

🤖 I've loved all the snippets of this au so much!

glad you're enjoying it!! 🤖💙

EB was sidewinding, bumping into Tommy on almost every step. The shots were finally hitting his processors.

Tommy steadied him with an arm around his waist.

“I may have m-m-miscalculated my tolerance,” EB admitted. His cheeks were deeply Thirium flushed. He giggled, then burped up a bunch of metallic blue bubbles. One popped in front of Tommy’s nose, making it wrinkle. “O-oops!”

EB reached up, clumsily attempting to wipe Tommy's face. Tommy caught his wrist and lowered it gently. He patted EB’s hip, smiling. “Okay, we need to cut you off. I think it's time to go home.”

“Already?” EB turned towards Tommy. “Can I go h-home with you instead?” he asked, eyes glimmering.

Tommy’s chest clenched immediately.

Technically, if Tommy took EB to his house without authorization, he would be stealing LAFD property.

“You want me to botnap you?” Tommy asked. 

He wasn’t against the idea. Fuck Gerrard.

EB was still giving him the robopuppy eyes. They were getting even wetter. “I know it’s wrong. I don’t want you to get in trouble, Tommy. It just… gets l-l-lonely at the station when you’re not there.”

Tommy had no idea EB was capable of loneliness. He wondered what it was like to exist at the station. How long had EB been feeling this way? Just for a little while, or since his assembly day?

“I'll be on my best b-behavior. I’ll be so good you might even want to k-keep me.”

The ache in Tommy’s chest grew tenfold. That really twisted the knife. “EB…”

“I’ve had dreams about it before.” EB smiled. It was sweet. Confessional. His lips looked especially full and pink. His LED pulsed blue. “If you were my owner instead of Captain, and I was your botfriend.”

Tommy's brain broke. He wasn’t going to survive hearing more of this. “...You can dream?”

And not only that, but EB dreamt of him? Of them? Together?

“I can construct visual scenarios with various o-o-outcomes,” EB answered, blinking slowly and swaying on the spot. Tommy tightened his grip on him. “Like dreams, they're not real.”

“I didn’t know,” Tommy said. Choked, really.

“If it was possible, would you want that? Would you want me?” EB asked. His tone glitched on the question, going tinny. The hope in it was painful.

Tommy’s throat clicked as he swallowed. Of course I’d want you, EB.

How could he not?

Someone bumped into him from behind, jostling them and reminding Tommy of exactly where they were and who he was. In a crowded bar with his very masculine, red-blooded coworkers just a few feet away. 

EB's big, mechanical Thirium pump was going to get damaged. Just like Tommy’s heart had years ago.

Self-loathing more than usual, Tommy let go of EB and dodged the question. “I can’t talk about this here. How long will it take for you to regulate your Thirium?”

EB’s expression fell.

So did Tommy’s stomach, straight to his fucking feet.

“Approximately three hours and forty-two minutes,” EB answered quietly.

“We probably shouldn’t take you straight back to the station. Not until you’ve sobered up. C’mon.”

Tommy wanted to take EB’s hand and squeeze it.

He didn’t.

⚙︎

tag list: @brassm-tagged @leashybebes @thesuspiciousflyingjellyfish @setmeatopthepyre @bibuckeroo @station18908 @hmg621 @buffaluff @disastardly @figuringitoutaloud @bbbuckalou @ambernotember @theredrenard @hyperfocusthusly @tedious-waffle @screamlet @xmidhel @nochance-noway

@rcmclachlan @popfly @powersuitup @nonotyourspumoni @espressopatronum454 @loulou-land @all-the-feelss @comeon-intothemadhouse @jake-is-screaming-in-tune @therealstacyfakename @whizzzerbrown @the-omniscient-narrator @5ammi90 @crazypenguin88 @thuperrah @just-barrow @exhaustedpirate

[vitalverstappen]

Ten Years - M. Verstappen

summary: years apart may not erase memories. time spent in a gymnasium you once knew like the back of your hand makes you wonder if the life you built without Max is really the one you want

pairing: Max Verstappen x former high school sweetheart!reader

warnings: none

word count: 3.3k

masterlist

The hallway buzzed with the typical chatter of students in the last week before summer break. Lockers slammed, and the smell of the cafeteria food mixed with the faint scent of freshly sharpened pencils. It was the last class of the day, and you and Max were standing by the lockers, your fingers intertwined, lost in a world of inside jokes and whispered promises. 

Max’s hand was warm in yours, his thumb gently traced the back of your knuckles. The familiar motion made your heart race, in that easy, natural way it always had when he touched you. His touch always felt like home - soft and tender, full of secrets shared and memories yet to be made. 

You could almost hear the promise in his touch - the one that said no matter what came next, you’d always be intertwined with each other. Neither of you knew exactly what the future held after graduation. Max had dreams of racing professionally, while you were preparing to move across the country for college, majoring in marketing. There were so many unknowns ahead of both of you, but standing there, side by side, everything felt as if it could last forever. 

“I wish we didn’t have to leave,” Max whispered, his voice tinged with that familiar sadness you both had learned to bury behind smiles and laughter. 

You squeezed his hand, offering him a soft smile, the kind that always had been your silent promise to him. “We’ll figure it out. Whatever happens, we’ll be okay. I know we will.”

Max didn’t reply, but his gaze softened to match yours. In that moment, everything felt simple again. It was just the two of you, standing in the chaos of the hallway, as the world outside rushed forward.

But that was ten years ago. 

Like most high school sweethearts, once graduation ended, so did your relationship. When the dog days of summer arrived, Max packed up and left, chasing after his dream of being a Formula 1 driver. And when the leaves slowly began changing colors again, you moved to college, pursuing dreams of your own.

Max’s departure had been sudden, unexpected, but it was never a dramatic breakup. No tears, no fights. Just two young adults starting on separate journeys, hoping to keep their connection alive, but knowing deep down that distance often meant goodbye. You both tried to stay in touch for a while - sporadic texts, late-night phone calls - but the inevitable happened. The messages grew less frequent, then disappeared altogether. 

You heard about him now and then through mutual friends and social media posts. He’d made a name for himself, climbing the ranks in the world of motorsport, just like he’d always dreamed. You went on with your life too. Relationships came and went. Jobs, opportunities, and travels filled the space he had once occupied. But still, every now and then, when you passed a familiar street corner or saw a race on TV, you’d catch a brief, wistful thought of Max.

Then, out of nowhere, you got an invitation to your ten-year high school reunion. The email landed in your inbox one evening, its subject line a reminder of the past: Class of 2015 - It’s time to reconnect! You hesitated, stared at the screen, ultimately ending up with Why not? A chance to see old friends, a chance to catch up with people you’d long lost touch with. 

And that’s how you found yourself standing outside of the old gymnasium, just like you had a decade ago. Through the window on the door, you could tell that the gym looked pretty much the same. Old bleachers, dim lights, the smell of dust and nostalgia hung in the air. You could almost feel the echo of music from prom night, the laughter of friends you hadn’t seen in years. The nerves were there, but laced with an odd sense of comfort. 

You took a deep breath and pushed open the heavy gym doors, stepping inside. The familiar scent of worn out basketball floors and faint hints of stale perfume hit you. The space hadn’t changed very much, save for the new banners that now hung from the rafters. The dim lights flickered above slightly, just like they had during school dances and pep rallies. The whole place felt like a time capsule, preserving the memories of a life you once lived. 

People were gathered in small clusters, some chatting excitedly, others standing quietly as they scanned the room, perhaps wondering the same thing you were: Where do we fit into all of this?

Your eyes swept the room. There were familiar faces, ones that had become distant over the years, their names and stories drifting further away in the tide of time. You smiled at a few people, exchanged pleasantries and small talk about what they were up to now. 

It only took a few minutes, but your friend group from high school quickly found you. They arrived in a small wave, the laughter and chatter of old friends filling the space between you. Casey, the loudest, was the first to reach you, pulling you into a tight hug that felt like no time had passed at all. 

“You made it!” She exclaimed, stepping back with a bright grin. Her eyes were the same, but there was something different in the way she carried herself now - more confident, perhaps. Life had moved on, but somehow she still felt like the same friend you’d sneak out of the house to go drive around the countryside with. 

“Of course,” you said, laughing “I wouldn’t miss it.” 

Behind Casey, Ben and Laura appeared, both of them with their own smiles, more reserved but just as warm. They hadn’t changed much either, though you could tell Ben had filled out a bit since the days he’d been known for his soccer prowess. Laura was just as sarcastic as ever, though her eyes carried that hint of wisdom only time could bring. 

“It’s good to see you,” Laura said, her voice smooth and familiar. “I thought you’d gotten too fancy for us.” 

Though you had moved to the city since you last saw the group, you knew they had a part of you that you couldn’t leave behind. 

“I could never,” you replied with a wink. “You guys have too many embarrassing stories.”

Everyone laughed, and for a moment, the years seemed to melt away. You weren’t in your twenties with a big girl job worrying about bills and current events. You were eighteen again, laughing with your best friends, all hoping to be on the same team for dodgeball. The same friends who shared everything - the triumphs, the failures, the moments that felt so big at the time, and now seemed smaller but no less important. 

For a while, the four of you wandered through the crowd, catching up on what had happened since graduation. Careers, relationships, moves, travels. All the things that had shaped you into the people you were now. Yet, amidst all the changes, it was clear you had all retained something - the same connection you’d once shared in those carefree years of high school. 

But even as the laughter and conversion flowed easily, there was an unspoken feeling, a lingering tension in the back of your mind, because you couldn’t stop thinking about him. 

It was silly to think that he would be here. It was the middle of the Formula 1 season after all. He was definitely focused more on winning another championship than reconnecting with people he hadn’t seen in a decade. 

But no matter how much you told yourself to let it go, the thought of Max lingered, like an itch you couldn’t quite scratch. You could feel your eyes wandering to the door each time it creaked open, half expecting to see him walking through with that confident, easygoing smile. But each time, there was a tinge of disappointment in your heart. 

You told yourself to stop. There was no point in hoping for something that was never meant to be. Max had a life now, one that was worlds apart from the one both of you had left behind in that small town. The chances of him showing up was slim to none. 

It was a mixture of silly hope and longing for something you knew was gone, something you know had slipped away with the passing of time. You didn’t regret the time you had with Max, but you also knew that life had moved on for both of you. 

“You okay?” Casey asked, pulling you from your thoughts. She stood beside you, her expression soft with concern. 

You forced a smile, trying to hide the thoughts racing in your mind. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just… thinking.”

“About him?” she questioned. She didn’t need to say his name for you to know who she was talking about. 

You bit your lip, not sure what to say. It wasn’t like you were expecting Max to walk in and sweep you off your feet. You’d grown up, you’d moved on. But there was still a small part of you that wondered what would happen if you saw him again. If there was still something left between you, or if you’d just become a memory to him. 

“Just a little,” you admitted, your voice quieter than you intended. 

Casey nodded, her gaze thoughtful. “I get it. I mean, you guys were the perfect high school couple. It’s hard not to wonder what might’ve been.”

You glanced at her, surprised by the understanding in her voice. “It’s been a long time though, Case. He’s got his life, I’ve got mine. We’re not… that anymore.”

She gave a small shrug, the kind that meant I know, but there was still a flicker of something in her eyes. “Maybe. But who knows? Life is weird like that.”

You gave her a defeated shrug, unsure of what to say in response, so you excused yourself to the refreshment table. 

As you walked away, the sound of laughter and chatter faded into the background, leaving you alone with your swirling thoughts. Your eyes pretended to scan to the spread of snacks and drinks, but your mind was somewhere else. 

You caught a glimpse of the punch bowl and grabbed a plastic cup before reaching for the ladle absentmindedly. But your hand didn’t touch the cool plastic serving spoon that rested in the bowl. It brushed something warmer, something familiar. 

Your breath hitched as you slowly withdrew your hand, feeling the electric pulse of recognition. Your heart skipped a beat, and the world seemed to still for a moment. 

You didn’t have to look up to know who was standing beside you. The warmth of his presence was unmistakable, just like it had always been. 

Max. 

You blinked, your pulse hammering in your ears, but when you finally gathered the courage to meet his gaze, his eyes were just as you remembered - intense, yet soft, a mix of hesitation and familiarity. His smile was tentative, like he wasn’t sure how to bridge the gap between who you were and who you had become. But there was warmth in there too, the same kind of warmth that had always drawn you to him. 

“Hey,” he said, his voice low, like he was testing the waters to see if you were ready for this. His gaze flickered between your eyes, your lips, looking for some sign of recognition or acceptance. His nervousness was almost endearing, reminding you of the first time he had looked at you like this. 

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing. Your mind was doing laps while your heart pounded out of your chest, but you managed a small smile in return. 

“Max,” you breathed, his name feeling foreign and familiar all at once. 

There was a pause, an awkward silence stretched between you two. He glanced around briefly, like he was wondering where to go from here then slowly shifted his weight, inching a little closer. 

You couldn’t help but feel a rush of emotions surge through you, a mix of nostalgia, surprise and uncertainty. It felt like the clock had rewound to those carefree days when everything had seemed possible and your world revolved around him, but mixed with the maturity that only came with age. 

Max cleared his throat, his voice less steady than usual. “I didn’t think you’d actually come.” 

A soft laugh escaped your lips. “I almost didn’t,” you admitted, glancing around the gym. It felt surreal to be back there, especially with him standing so close. “But I figured, why not? It’s been ten years.”

Max’s gaze softened, and there was a flicker of something unspoken between you two, a reminder of everything you once shared. “Yeah, ten years…” he muttered, trailing off as he glanced down at the floor before looking back at you. “It’s crazy how much can change in that time.”

“Yeah it is,” you said, your voice quieter now, unsure of what to say next. It had been a long time, after all. You both changed so much. Your life was different. His life, from what you knew, had become a whirlwind of speed and competition. 

You fiddled with the empty cup in your hands, trying to keep your composure, but the weight of those years between you hung heavily in the air. “How’ve you been?” you finally asked, hoping to break the silence.

Max hesitated, his hand running through his hair in the way he used to when he was nervous. “I’ve been good. Busy,” he said, a little smile tugging at his lips. “I’m still doing the racing thing. It’s… everything I’ve wanted. But, uh, it’s also a lot more than I expected.”

You nodded. “I can imagine.”

There was another pause, the kind that stretched out too long, making you feel like there were too many things left unsaid. Max was still looking at you, his eyes like a puzzle you weren’t sure how to solve. 

“I’ve seen a lot on social media,” you added, trying to fill the gap. “It’s incredible, everything you’ve achieved.”

His smile widened, though there was a hint of shyness to it. “I didn’t expect to make it this far. But it feels good, you know?”

“I can only imagine,” you repeated, this time with a slight laugh. Making light of the situation was much harder with your heart beating faster with every passing second. 

Max’s smile faltered for a second before speaking again. “And you? How’s everything?”

You bit your lip, unsure of what to say. So much had changed. You’d made a life for yourself, one that didn’t involve him anymore. “It’s good. I’m in marketing now. Moved to the city. Things have been busy, but, uh, it’s going well.”

Max nodded thoughtfully. “I’m glad to hear that.” 

He shifted slightly as both of you took a step back from the punch bowl as the awkwardness of the moment settled in a little more. There was so much to say, so many things you’d both been through, but neither of you seemed ready to dive into it just yet. 

His eyes flickered around the gym for the second time, scanning around the room before landing back on you. All of you. “You look great,” he said, his voice soft but genuine. The compliment, simple as it was, caused your heart to flutter, reminding you of the years when those words had felt like second nature between you.

You felt a blush creeping up on your cheeks. “Thanks,” you replied as you took in the sight of him again. “So do you.”

The smile on your face lingered, a little unsure but real nonetheless. The air between you was charged, yet it felt oddly comfortable. Maybe it was the years of shared memories that created a sense of connection. Or maybe it was just the strange familiarity of a time long gone but never completely erased. 

“So, uh,” Max began, breaking the silence that had stretched a little too long again. “You’ve got this whole city life now, huh?”

You nodded slowly, your gaze flickering to the crowd, half lost in the movement of people talking and laughing around you. “Yeah, I moved to Amsterdam after university. It’s…different,” you said, trying to find the right words. “I wasn’t really sure how it would feel at first, but it’s been good.”

Max nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I bet it’s a big change. You’ve always been someone who could take on anything, though.” There was an admiration in his voice, and the sincerity behind it made your chest tighten. 

“Yeah, well,” you chuckled, “there were moments when I wasn’t so sure.” You glanced at him, feeling the weight of the words, as though the two of you shared something unspoken in those quiet moments. “But I’ve learned a lot.” 

Max took a deep breath, as though preparing for something. “It’s good to see you again,” he said, and his town was more serious now, almost tentative. “I didn’t know if I’d ever have the chance to say that.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and for a moment, it was as though the years slipped away. The old familiarity crept back in, but it didn’t completely feel like the same person you had once known - it was a version of him shaped by all he had accomplished. He still had the same dirty blonde hair and lisp, but he was now a Max who had become something bigger than the boy you once held hands with in the hallway. 

“It’s good to see you too,” you replied softly. “I’ve missed you.”

The words came out before you could stop them, a quiet confession that felt like the truth, even if it wasn’t entirely what either of you were ready to confront just yet. 

Max’s eyes somehow softened even more as if the weight of that admission caught him off guard. “I missed you too,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the background noise of the gym. 

For a moment, neither of you said anything. It wasn’t awkward or comfortable, it just was. The pull of the past was undeniable, and yet the present was there too, a reminder of everything that had changed. 

Max shifted his weight, looking at you with a mixture of uncertainty and something else. “I don’t know what happens next,” he said, his voice still low, as though trying to find the right words. “But it’s… nice, seeing you like this. Seeing you happy.”

You smiled again, even though the words tangled in your chest, unsure of where this moment would lead. “I am happy,” you said. “I think we both are, in a way.”

His eyes met yours, searching for some sort of clue about what the reunion meant. The air between you crackled with possibilities, and yet, neither of you seemed ready to claim them. 

“Well,” Max finally said, “I should probably let you get back to your friends.”

You nodded, suddenly feeling the pull of the crowd, the tug of reality. “Yeah, I should,” you agreed softly. But you didn’t move, not right away. Neither of you did. 

Max took a slow step back, offering you a hesitant smile. “Take care of yourself, okay?” 

“You too,” you responded, though the words didn’t feel enough. Not for this. Not for everything that had been and everything that could have been. 

With that, he turned, slowly retreating back into the crowd. You stood there for a few moments longer, watching him disappear, the knot in your chest tightening once more. The feeling of his presence still lingered in the air, and despite the years, despite the changes, there was a part of you that still carried a piece of him. 

And as the night wore on, the gym buzzed with the laughter, memories, and the passing of time. But somewhere, amidst all the noise and familiarity, something had shifted. You weren’t sure where it would go, but for the first time in a long while, you wondered if maybe the past had something more to offer. 

[orimuraa]

ㅤㅤ ⌇ Two shots deep and I'm getting lucky - Park Sunghoon

꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆falling in love with a slytherin was not on your bucket list ⨾

۶ৎ slytherin!park sunghoon x fem ravenclaw!reader ┆fluff, angst┆kisses, petnames, cursing, crying┆wc 2.5k

⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: this was requested by my 🫧 anon so i hope you enjoy!! reblogs and feedback are always appreciated ^o^

꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱

you liked to think of yourself as a smart and wise student. precisely why you were placed in the house of ravenclaw a few years ago.

you never imagined yourself getting involved with the school’s playboy, park sunghoon.

you see, sunghoon was so different from you. he was egotistical, rich, and quite snobby. but also very, very attractive.

he was a slytherin and that tells you all you need to know about him.

so how did you end up falling for him?

“y/n!!” a voice called out for you, stopping you in your tracks.

turning around, you find none other than your beloved best friend, kim sunoo.

sunoo was a sweet hufflepuff that you met on your first day here at hogwarts.

all your life, you’ve been told that you were very cold looking and hard to approach. but sunoo ignored all of that and went straight into becoming your friend.

“hi sun,” you smile, waiting for him to catch up.

“the new gossip for today is that someone saw park sunghoon making out with one of the girls in an empty broom closet,” he spills, waving around his hands as he spoke.

sunoo was very much interested with the school’s gossip whereas you couldn’t give a care for any of it.

“sun..when are you ever going to stop being so invested with other people’s lives!” you laugh, rolling your eyes playfully at your best friend.

“never!!!” he jokes before taking you by the hand and running to the hufflepuff common room.

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧

it was currently posions class and you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was staring at the back of your head like you had a target planted there.

turning your head, you slowly caught the gaze of..park sunghoon?….

why the hell was he looking at you?

immediately, you whip back to the front, rubbing your eyes before turning your attention back to professor snape.

“today class, we will be learning how to make the potions amortentia, also know as, the love potion,” snape says in his monotone voice.

this causes a few giggles to irrupt from behind you, making you roll your eyes.

once class was over, you make your way back to your dorms. unfortunately, there is something blocking your path. and by something, i mean someone.

“hey, woah woah woah! where are you in a rush to princess?” park sunghoon. again, what the hell does he want with you?

“don’t call me that,” you snarl, assuming this is exactly how the park sunghoon gets his reputation.

“listen, i just wanted to chat! that’s all, i swear,” he confesses, raising his hands in the air.

you’ve never been this close to him and oh god is he gorgeous. his bushy eyebrows and his moles perfectly placed around his face.

“fine, let’s at least go outside then,” you sigh, disappointed in yourself for already falling for sunghoon’s charm.

“so, why did you wanna talk to me specifically?” you ask, curious as to why the park sunghoon would even know of your existence.

“i dunno,” he says as if he’s bored before leaning forward, almost too close to you. “maybe i just want to get to know a pretty girl better.” he smirks, staring you down with those gorgeous eyes.

you don’t last very long before you’re a blushing mess and forcing yourself to look away.

“well from what i’ve heard, is that you’re not very good at sticking around. and i’m not looking for someone like that,” you say, praying that he wouldn’t notice you’re very much flustered state.

“and if i said i would be willing to stay for you?” oh god. your heart just exploded.

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧

“aughhhh!!! i don’t know sun…he clearly stated that he’s into me but i’m just scared of being another one of his toys…” you sigh, flopping down onto the couch.

in all honesty, you wouldn't mind going out with park sunghoon. you were just scared to get tricked and end up with a broken heart.

"maybe tell him that you would like to get to know him better before starting anything serious? i mean, that's kinda the truth anyway, right?" sunoo suggests, sitting down on the couch next to you.

"yeah...maybe i'll do that..it's smarter and safer. thanks sun," you smile, knowing you could always count on sunoo.

the next day, you were thinking about all the possible scenarios that could happen with sunghoon. turns out, there are actually many negative scenarios that you could think of which made your stomach turn, not in a good way.

"hey princess! got an answer for me yet?" turning around to face reality, you mentally grow some balls, deciding to not be a chicken and just tell him now.

but god, why did he have to be so handsome!?

"o-oh...hi sunghoon.." you nervously stutter, making a mental note to beat yourself up for this later. "i actually thought about this yesterday and i think it'd be nice to get to know you...i would appreciate taking our time though and not really rush into things, y'know?" congrats! you did it!...

"wait really? you'd actually go out with me?" sunghoon perks his head up, totally losing his "cool guy" persona and quickly replacing it with a loser-like one.

"did you think i would reject you?" you fake gasp, clutching at your heart teasingly.

"no! well- sort of? i guess..i'm just used to getting an answer right away..and it's always a yes...and you were taking a lot of time so i just assumed it was a no.." cute. who knew the park sunghoon was such a loser in reality?

"well i've said yes, so when's the first date?" you tease, tilting your head to the side.

"meet me at the 3 broomsticks at 2. don't be late~" he winks, his normal attitude coming back.

sunghoon turns on his heel, walking away and leaving you with a warm and glowy feeling in your cheeks.

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧

its been exactly 2 weeks since your first "date" with sunghoon and you've gotta say, they've been filled with fun and excitement.

turns out, sunghoon's quite a gentleman for you, making you fall for him even more.

he makes you laugh at silly things, he makes you smile so much til' your cheeks hurt, and he makes you feel understood.

of course sunoo understood you, but you meant by a romantic interest.

all of your previous relationships ended poorly because you never felt understood by your partner, resulting in bad communication.

but sunghoon, he always knew what you were feeling or what you were trying to say. he just...got you.

sunoo was over the moon when you told him things were working out with sunghoon. he's always been like your protective older brother.

he's been there for you every time another one of your shitty partners left you, always there to wipe your tears and tell you that they weren't worthy of your love.

so naturally, he was thrilled to hear that something was working out for you.

"sunoo!!! sunoo!!!!!" you exclaim, running up to him and bouncing like crazy.

"what!? jesus, calm down, you're gonna break something," he says, holding you in place.

"sunghoon asked me to the winter ball!!!" you screech, jumping again and clapping your hands out of excitement.

sunoo just blinks a couple time, fully processing your words before his eyes widen, his hand shooting up to cover his mouth.

"no way!!! really?!!?!" he gasps through his hand. you nod aggressively, giving him his answer. "then we have to find you a dress!"

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧

"hoon!!" you shout, catching the attention of the raven haired boy. he looks up at you with a cold expression before it melts away at the sight of you.

"hi princess," he greets softly, pushing out the chair next to him so you can sit.

this was how you current situationship was with sunghoon. you were still hesitant of a relationship but you were slowly warming up to the idea every time you were with sunghoon.

you learned that he was actually a big softie once you get to know him and if he lets himself open up.

there were moments where you caught him staring at you, a gaze of admiration in his eyes, making you blush and look away.

he had an effect on you that none of your past partners did, making you more and more convinced that he was the one for you.

as you and sunghoon silently joked in the small corner of the library, 3 figures silently observed from a far.

"that bitch thinks she can steal sunghoon away from me!" jia, one of sunghoon's many crazy admirers, huffs.

"i'll just have to steal him back then," she smirks, a plan forming in her head. then, she signals for her friends to follow as they walk out of the library.

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧

with only 3 days left until the winter ball, there's much excitement within the castle. many people are running around, trying to find a date or even just an outfit.

the owls have been dropping off suits and dresses of all kinds all day long for the students.

luckily, you and sunoo had already gone shopping together, picking out perfect outfits for the ball.

as you walked the hall, a slight hop to your step, you reach the slytherin corridor, wondering if sunghoon was in there just so you could pop in and say hi.

you hear a high pitched giggle from inside the corridor and thinking nothing of it, you open the door. immediately you regret that decision because this was not something you wanted to see.

sunghoon was kissing some girl passionately and mind you, he's never kissed you before even once!

when the girl notices your presence, you swear you see her smirk before tapping sunghoon's shoulder to say that someone's here.

he turns around but he looks different..there's something about his eyes that you can't place but you know for a fact that their not his.

especially with the way he just shrugs you off, going back to being smitten with the girl you now recognize as jia.

heartbroken, you dash out of the room, tears blurring your vision as you run to find sunoo.

"i knew i never should have trusted him sun!" you sob into his shoulder. all sunoo could do was hold you in his lap, patting your back and letting you know that nothing was your fault.

you didn't understand it all. if this was all a game, why did sunghoon stick around for so long?

just then, sunoo gasps, shaking you to look at him.

"ynnie! it wasn't him! you told me that the look in his eyes looked like he was almost soulless, right?" you nod slowly, not yet catching on.

"well! jia used a potion of amortentia on sunghoon! that potion, although making you fall in love, if it's not a true love, the eyes show no sign of it! meaning, he's being forced to love her! he's under her spell!" sunoo exclaims, pushing his hair back in shock.

"oh sunoo!! you're a genius!!" you cry, throwing your arms around him and hugging him. "but now i feel so bad for ever doubting him..." you sigh.

"you had every right to at the moment, 'kay? it was a natural reaction and now, you just need to fix it by getting sunghoon back," sunoo reassures.

so, the two of you spent the rest of the day, brewing a potion to cure sunghoon. now all you had to do was figure out how to slip it to him.

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧

walking into the great hall, you stride over to the slytherin table and over to sunghoon. annoyingly, jia is right there, clinging onto his arms.

now that you know, you do see how soulless he looks, not his usual bright and colorful self.

"hey could you two come with me? i need to survey couples for the ball," you lie, just trying to get them away. jia reluctantly agrees, pulling sunghoon with her.

while you were distracting these two, sunoo was borrowing harry's invisibility cloak to drop in the antidote into sunghoon's drink.

once you were done, you sit back at your table, making eye contact with sunoo and sending messages through your stares.

you swiftly turn around to see sunghoon taking a sip of his drink and you smile softly to yourself, knowing he'll be back in no time.

you stand up, walking out of the great hall and to your dorm, wanting to collect your thoughts before talking to sunghoon again.

meanwhile, in the great hall, sunghoon feels like he just woke up from a dream, taking a second to process the whole situation. looking down at the weight on his arm, he sees a girl who is not his y/n.

immediately, he pulls it back, scooting away from the girl.

"sungie?" god her voice made him cringe.

"what the fuck is happening? where's y/n?" he growls, starting to lose patience with the girl.

the girl just scoffs.

"ugh, really? that bitch? she's not eve-" she's cut off by sunghoon's intense glare, like he was daring her to finish that sentence.

"don't ever talk to me or y/n ever again. got it?" he seethes, before getting up and walking away to find you.

"sunoo! where's y/n?" he asks the shorter boy, knowing that you and sunoo were best friends.

"she's probably in the library, but please let her talk, she really likes you and she's just scared to lose you," sunoo says, offering sunghoon a small smile.

thanking him, sunghoon runs off the the library to looks for you.

he finds you at the desk you and him always sat at, making his heart melt a little.

"y/n?" he calls out quietly, and louder and his voice might betray him.

your head turns around at the call of your name, your eyes widening at the source of it.

"hi sunghoon..." you smile softly, motioning for him to sit down next to you.

you fill him in on everything. jia making him fall in love with her, the kiss, and even how you felt. you felt vulnerable talking about this with someone who wasn't sunoo, but sunghoon kept quiet, listening to you attentively.

"princess i'm so sorry..i know that probably isn't enough for all you've been through, but i just want you to know that i like you so so much, and i could never dream of leaving you for anyone else, okay? i will wait forever just so you could be mine, baby," he smiles, placing his hand on yours.

"thank you," you whisper, not trusting your voice. "i really like you too sunghoon, and i want this."

"can...can i kiss you?" he asks softly, reading your expression. you smile and nod, giving him the go ahead.

and with that, he leans in slowly, capturing your lips in his.

his lips are soft against yours, moving slowly yet passionately.

you two pull away breathless, silently laughing to yourselves.

he leans his forehead against yours, kissing the tip of your nose.

"i'm so lucky to have you princess, you mean the world to me."

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films, @k-nets

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy

[stllmnstr]

easy mode

pairing: lee heeseung x f reader

genre: brother's best friend au

word count: 2.9k

warnings: not explicit but veeeery suggestive, alcohol consumption, swearing, lots and lots of jealousy aka very bthb coded

note: Another reupload! I wrote another ~3k of sacred monsters today and saw this in my drafts and realized I never posted it. If you read it before, I hope you like it just as much! If you haven't, I hope you enjoy!

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

Lee Heeseung likes to do things the easy way. 

It’s not that he’s lazy, just... efficient. A fan of the path of least resistance. He knows how to pick his battles and does so sparingly. 

Heeseung minds his own business, keeps his eyes on the path in front of him and rarely lets them stray. And he definitely, definitely never pokes his nose into other people’s problems. 

It’s a philosophy that keeps his head on straight, that allows his friendships to remain low-maintenance and sans drama. It’s what’s kept Jay at his side for the last fifteen years, even through the trials and tribulations of elementary school playground altercations, puberty-fueled fights in the middle school locker room, and most recently, the frustrating misalignment of their post-graduation work schedules. 

Four years ago, Heeseung thought a bachelor’s degree would be his ticket to success, not a soul-sucking nine-to-five that leaves him itching for a drink or three most Friday nights. Luckily for him, Jay’s in the same boat. 

But tonight, sitting next to his best friend on his favorite slightly wobbly bar stool, Heeseung almost misses the monotony of their usual Friday evening happy hours. 

He’s nursing his third beer, which would usually go down like cold water, even though time and tipsiness have turned it lukewarm. Tonight, though, Heeseung’s eyes keep wandering towards the same corner table just over Jay’s shoulder. 

And every time they do, the muscle in his jaw strains a little further. The beer on his tongue tastes a little more bitter. 

Heeseung hates making things complicated. He doesn’t get involved. He doesn’t. But–

“Are you gonna do something about that?”

On the adjacent bar stool, Jay glances at Heeseung. “About what?” 

Heeseung just keeps his eyes trained on that table, that spot over Jay’s shoulder. 

Picking up on the hint even through the pleasant haze in his mind, Jay turns his gaze to follow Heeseung’s nonverbal cue. It takes him only a matter of seconds to locate what has his best friend in such a mood. Or rather, who. Although Jay isn’t quite sure why. 

He’s digging for clarification when he looks back at his friend. “What do you mean? Did she do something weird?” It wouldn’t be exactly unlike his younger sister to do something slightly embarrassing in public. 

Heeseung’s jaw just tightens further, betraying annoyance. Finally, he puts words to his irritation, saves Jay from his suspense. “You’re gonna let that idiot put his hands all over your little sister in the middle of the bar?”

Jay frowns, turns over his shoulder once again to make sure he isn’t seeing things. 

He’s not. From this angle, at least, Sunghoon’s hands are at a perfectly respectable distance from you. Not that Jay could do much about it either way. 

He tells Heeseung as much. “What am I supposed to do? Drag her out by her ear and force her to join a convent? Ship her off to a girls only boarding school?” 

Jay laughs humorlessly. He’s not exactly thrilled that you and your friends chose to patronize the same bar as him and Heeseung tonight, but he doesn’t want to linger on it either. In fact, he doesn’t want to do anything but forget his woes this evening, drown his sorrows in overpriced pints of whatever’s on tap. 

He’s perfectly happy with his back turned towards you. Out of sight, out of mind and all that. “She’s twenty-two.”

And that wasn’t what Heeseung was suggesting exactly, but now that Jay mentions it…

“You’re okay with Park trying to play tonsil tennis with her then?”

“Dude,” Jay winces, setting his beer down on the bar, stomach suddenly queasy. “Gross. That’s still my little sister.”

Which is exactly the card Heeseung is hoping he’ll play. But all Jay does is sigh. If Heeseung didn’t know better, he’d think the exasperation was directed at him instead of the loser he’s pretty sure is currently trying to make himself Jay’s future brother-in-law. 

Jay checks over his shoulder one final time for good measure. It confirms whatever he’s looking for. Mostly the fact that Park Sunghoon’s lips are too busy cracking mediocre jokes to be making sloppy passes at his sister in public. 

Hoping to put it to rest once and for all, he turns back to Heeseung. “Besides, it’s Sunghoon,” Jay reasons. He finds it in himself to reach for his beer again. “She’s known him since preschool. He’s practically like a second brother to her.” Jay takes a sip, misreading the rise in Heeseung’s agitation as familial affection. Trying to soothe it over, he concedes with a nod, “Or third, I guess. I’ll let you be her second.”

Like always, Heeseung lets it go. He goes with the flow, rolls with the punches. 

Well, at least on the outside. 

But even if he weren’t so committed to never rocking the boat, this is hardly the time or place to correct Jay’s assumptions that his feelings towards you are anything but brotherly. 

That, he decides, will have to be a revelation for another time. Preferably in a situation where Heeseung is well out of arm’s reach and Jay is in restraints of some sort. 

Those, after all, are the only circumstances in which he could ever disclose just how decidedly not brotherly his feelings towards you are. 

In fact, his feelings are a lot more aligned with that stupid game you used to make him play as kids. The one where you put on the white dress you’d gotten from your cousin as a hand-me-down, an assortment of grape juice, finger paint, and pasta sauce stains scattered along the hemline. 

The one where you’d gather a bunch of dandelions from your overgrown backyard and call them a bouquet. 

The one where you’d live out all your grandest six-year-old dreams of walking down the aisle towards a handsome prince with the latest Kidz Bop rendition of whatever love song was most popular on the radio crackling through the cheap speaker you stole from Jay’s bedroom. 

The one where you’d drag Heeseung away from the player number two console, much to Jay’s unending annoyance, and force him to play the part of your groom. Even at six, you were a force to be reckoned with. An argument-winning fiend that even your older brother could rarely best in a fight. 

Heeseung played along, more than anything, because he was scared to face your wrath if he declined. But he’d be lying if he said his heart didn’t feel a little funny in his chest every time he watched you walk down a makeshift aisle made from your mother’s missing tablecloth. 

So no, Heeseung doesn’t give a shit how long you’ve known Sunghoon. After all, what does Sunghoon know about your childhood dream to get married in a garden full of roses? Judging from the way it looks like he keeps trying to get you to take a sip of his drink, he doesn't even know you can’t stand the taste of Coke mixed with liquor. 

But Heeseung knows. He was there the night you developed the aversion. The night you decided bottom shelf tequila and the soda you snuck from your parent’s fridge were your best friends for the evening after junior prom. The night he held your hair and rubbed soothing circles into the skin between your shoulders as it came back up a few hours later. 

And he was there for the rest of it, too. All of the little moments, the big moments, and everything in between that spun the tapestry of your formative years. 

The day you finally got your braces off and didn’t stop smiling for three weeks straight. The time you sprained your ankle trying to hide Jay’s favorite pair of sneakers in the alarmingly tall tree in your backyard. The night you cried for four hours straight when you found out Jake Sim from biology was a big, fat, liar that was indeed texting other girls for homework answers. 

There may have been moments, tangled up in that swirling mix of memories, when Heeseung felt nothing but a brotherly sort of affection for you. A desire to protect you from the world and a distinct sort of pride when he inevitably failed and you rose to the challenge anyway. 

But Heeseung also remembers what it felt like to stand across from you as you recited your six-year-old attempt at recreating marriage vows, and he thinks he never really stood a chance. 

So tonight, glancing over Jay’s shoulder again, Heeseung watches as you lean a little further into Sunghoon, straining to hear him over the cacophony in the bar. 

And the anger he feels in his gut is not brotherly in the slightest. Nor is the red, hot, scalding jealousy that burns his throat every time he forces himself to swallow it down. 

Searching for a distraction, he busies himself with his beer once again, letting Jay’s unwanted evaluations fall to the wayside for the time being. 

Immersed in the dregs of his own despair, he almost misses it. The flash of movement as you slide out from your seat next to Sunghoon. 

His eyes track your movement with the quiet focus of a predator on the hunt, watching as you disappear around the corner. 

Heeseung mumbles some excuse about needing to go to the bathroom that Jay only partially hears before he’s stepping off of his bar stool, beer forgotten on the counter behind him. 

Your footsteps are easy to follow as he traces the predictable path you forge to the opposite corner of the bar. Heeseung’s bathroom excuse was a good one, he’s pleased to discover, once he realizes that’s precisely where he’ll be meeting you. 

The line is long, but it moves quickly. Only a handful of minutes have passed when you emerge again. This time, Heeseung doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t give you the chance to walk back and make him watch you from a distance for the rest of the evening. 

Doesn’t give you the chance to so much as look at Park Sunghoon again. 

Instead, he wraps long fingers around the skin of your wrist, dragging you to the adjacent hallway where it’s empty, quiet. Secluded. Away from any wandering eyes or unwanted ears. 

Any protests of yours are overtaken by surprise, and by the time you finally find them again, they’re replaced by questions. 

Heeseung may be a captain of a steady ship, a firm believer in the merits of smooth sailing, but he’s never been able to resist the urge of liminal spaces like these. Moments with enough plausible deniability that Jay won’t have a reason to give him a bloody nose or threaten his life if he so much as looks at his little sister again. Exchanges that he hopes will linger with you long after the two of you have parted ways. 

Desire for ambiguity aside, the position he puts you in is compromising no matter how you spin it. Your back against the wall, Heeseung leans over you, cages you in like he’s after something other than your answers. 

Something more. 

But the gap between your bodies is deliberate, a way for him to backtrack if the situation calls for it. An escape route if he needs it. He really, really hopes he won’t. 

Your wrist is still in his grip, light but demanding, when he finally says, “Park Sunghoon? Really?”

He can’t help it, the way his words are warped with poorly disguised venom. He really cannot stand the guy. 

“What?” You hope you can blame the obvious breathlessness in your voice on shock. “What are you–?”

Heeseung won’t leave you wondering for long. “You think he can handle you?” With the way you’re wrapped up in Heeseung’s hold, the challenge, the comparison, is apparent. 

Your shock morphs. Hardens. Gaze narrowing, you relax a little into his grip. 

Your words, however, remain combative. “Handle me? Am I a wild animal?” You scoff. “I don’t need to be han–”

And, oh, this is Heeseung’s favorite kind of tightrope. His very best balancing act. He loves it, thrives on it, revels in it. 

This exchange of heated words that never go anyway but to your head. He hopes you’re seeing fucking stars. 

Heeseung leans an inch closer. He’s breaching dangerous territory. He’ll blame it on the alcohol if he has to. Glancing at your eyes, holding your gaze, he doesn’t think he will. 

“Who said anything about you needing it?” He’s so close that you feel his breath on your cheekbone, ghosting across your temple. It’s warm, leaves your skin tingling in its wake. “I’m talking about what you want.”

Something unreadable flickers through your gaze. If Heeseung didn’t know any better, he’d call it desire. But it disappears before he can name it, replaced with contempt. As if Heeseung is nothing but a pest, a fly to swat at until it stops buzzing. “Awful presumptuous, don’t you think?”

Heeseung only grins. He’s not like this, usually. Even when his intentions are less than pure. Just like everything else, he flirts in obvious ways. He doesn’t play games or speak in riddles or hope that subtleties will do the job for him. 

But it’s just so easy with you. “I don’t know.” He leans in closer. “There are a few ways we could find out, though.”

If your breath stutters, you’ll disguise it as another scoff. “Pray tell.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Heeseung inclines his head in a mockery of an apology. Pet names are another thing he keeps reserved for these stolen moments with you. Another exception to the rule that he refuses to examine further. 

For a moment, he lets his eyes do what they want. You feel the heat they scorch in their path from your nose to your chin back up to your molten gaze. 

“I’d rather show you.” Heeseung pauses, biting at his bottom lip. “But I don’t think I can do any of the things I want in public.”

You hate the way he does this. The way he never says what he means. The way he skirts around his desires with such heavy footsteps but still leaves you feeling foolish for drawing obvious conclusions. 

The way your heartbeat stutters regardless. But tonight, you’ll hold firm. If he wants anything from you, he’ll have to spell it out. “What are you saying?”

Heeseung is as evasive as always. “I’m saying that Sunghoon’s too nice for you.” There’s a hard edge in his eyes when he adds, “You’ll eat him alive and still be begging for more.”

Fine. If he wants to play games, then you’ll roll the dice too. Make scathing comments and heated taunts with whatever numbers you land on. 

This time, it’s you that leans in. “Should I make sure to find you, then? When I’m all done with him?”

Heeseung’s eyes light up with a renewed vigor. You can’t tell if he’s furious or the most delighted you’ve ever seen him. “Careful,” he breathes. “That’s a dangerous game you’re playing at.”

You smile. Sweetly. Innocently. Leaning in further, your mouth is scant inches from his. 

“I’m not playing at anything.” It’s a blatant lie, but you’ve become well acquainted with denial, too. Picked up a few tricks from the master himself. “You’re the one that dragged me here and started demanding that I ditch my friend.”

Heeseung grins as if you serve no purpose but to amuse him. But there’s a hard edge in his voice when he asks, “You let all your friends look at you like that?”

“Only the ones I really like.”

And now you’re under his skin. Exactly where you want to be. “Careful,” he repeats, even lower this time. “I’m not as nice as him.”

You won’t heed any warnings, and especially not ones given from him. 

Heeseung is all talk. All bark and no bite. You almost wish he would bare teeth, just once. 

But Jay is still sitting on a barstool just one room over, and no matter how much he likes toying with you, you have the sinking suspicion that Heeseung’s loyalty will always begin and end with his best friend. 

He’ll press up against the line, will skirt the edge of the boundaries between you every chance he gets, but you’ve yet to see any indication that he’ll ever cross it. 

Just once, you want to be the one with him wrapped around your finger. Want to watch him become putty in your hands. 

“What are you gonna do?” Unblinking, you hold his gaze. “Handle me?”

A blurred line dissolves completely. Heeseung’s resolve slips, just a fraction. His eyes are still guarded, yes, but there’s a desperation that wasn’t there before. “Is that an invitation?”

“A challenge,” you correct, taking advantage of his sudden surprise to slide out of his grasp, maneuvering away from his hold. This time, he has no choice but to turn as you begin to back away, to let his eyes follow your lead. 

The misstep might have been miniscule, but it was enough to tip the balance.

For once, the results of this game are under your sole control. You have choices, ones that would leave him in the dust and ones that would put a trophy in his wandering hands. 

In the end, you discard it all. You have only one final demand for him. It’s a whisper that’s barely audible, “Rise to it.”

Heeseung doesn’t need to hear it twice. 

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

Thanks for reading :) If you enjoyed, let me know!

[therealcocoshady]

Hey coco I seen your latest story and I was wondering if you could do the complete opposite where reader and Marshall are in a long term relationship and they have sex and he’s in a rush and he doesn’t clean reader up at all and kinda leaves really quickly and reader feels like a hoe and gets in her feels about it .

A/N : thank you so much for your request ! I really liked the idea so I came up with a little something. I hope you enjoy it ☺️💕. Please don’t mind the title. I’m exhausted and I wrote the first thing that comes to mind 🤣.

The Birkin Diplomacy

CW : Eminem being a really sucky boyfriend and a cocky bastard 😅 ; reconciliation

Marshall leaned against the headboard, the low hum of the city filtering through the slightly cracked window of your bedroom. The sheets were tangled around your legs, still heavy with the warmth of your embrace. He pulled a hand through his messy hair, damp from sweat, as he exhaled. For a moment, he seemed present—his gaze fixed on you in the dim light, the edges of his sharp features softened by exhaustion. You studied him, your head resting on his chest. You couldn’t help but think there was something mesmerizing about your man. You always found him fascinating, but orgasm always gave him a nice glow. In the dim light of your room, he seemed even more ethereal. If it weren’t for his heartbeat, steady and strong, you could have sworn he wasn’t really. You basked in this delicious feeling for a while, catching your breath, enjoying the comforting feeling of his skin against yours. But then, right as you were about to fall asleep, he pulled away. 

« Gotta go, » he mumbled before getting up. « What? » you asked, propping yourself up on an elbow, in a voice edged with disbelief. He simply shrugged before answering, not exactly apologetic. « Late-night session. Dre’s in town. Can’t leave him hanging » he explained as he slid out of bed. How movements were quick, almost mechanical; as he started to put his clothes on. You frowned and watched as he moved around the room. You body was still aching from him, from your connection. You had given yourself to him completely, as you had always done and yet… He was leaving. You couldn’t help but feel your heart break a little. « Marshall… Can’t it wait? » you asked, your voice breaking slightly. « I feels like I barely see you, these days ». 

He sighed and looked at you. For a moment, it seemed like his icy blue eyes were softening. But then his shoulders sagged, and the weight of his responsibilities seemed to settle on him again. « You know how it is, babe. I’ve got work to do. We’re close to finishing the album ». And just like that, he was gone—out the door with a rushed kiss on your forehead, leaving you alone in your bed, body still marked by his touch. You stared at the ceiling, your chest tightening as frustration and hurt bubbled up inside you. Nearly two years of being babe. His girlfriend. His source of comfort and support. Almost two years of sticking with him through thick and thin. Two years of him calling you his princess, his queen… And now, he had you feeling like a cheap whore, your cozy bedroom reduced to a vulgar brothel. He didn’t even help you clean up. Yet, somehow, it was the fancy bracelet he had gifted you a couple of days ago that had you feeling dirty. When you had opened the box, you had been mesmerized by the way the diamonds caught the light but now, it felt like a bauble, a weak attempt at making up for the attention he didn’t give you. And if he thought you were one of these hoes that would turn a blind eye to their bed being empty as long as they had tiny things to look at, he was dead wrong. This, you were about to remind him of. 

The idea came to you as a sharp, defiant spark. Sitting up, you wrapped yourself in the sheet, your resolve growing stronger with each step toward the closet. Marshall had showered you with lavish gifts over the course of your relationship—designer handbags, sparkling jewelry, even a pair of limited-edition sneakers he’d bragged about snagging before anyone else. You gathered them one by one, piling them into an empty box from a recent delivery. Each item carried a memory, a moment when you’d thought you were his priority, his anchor. Now, they felt hollow, like symbols of a love that had become one-sided. Next, you opened the drawer where you kept a spare key to his house. Your fingers trembled as you placed it on top of the pile. You’d carried that key everywhere, a token of trust and commitment. Now, it felt heavy with the weight of his neglect. And for all you cared, he could give it to someone else. Someone who would be willing to put up with the disrespect. But that someone wouldn’t be you. You had many flaws, but being unaware of your worth certainly wasn’t one of them. The final touch was a deliberate act of rebellion. Pulling out your phone, you searched for the number of a high-end escort service you’d once overheard a friend joking about. You scribbled it down on a sticky note in bold, dark letters, then stuck it to the top of the box. « Here » you mumbled. « Now you can save on presents and have a cheap hoe ». 

The next morning, the courier arrived promptly. You gave the box one last glance, your heart thudding in your chest. A small part of you hesitated—did you really want to do this? But the memory of his hurried departure, of the way he’d made you feel so disposable, spurred you forward. « Delivery for Marshall Mathers, » you said, your voice steady as you handed it over.

Later that day, Marshall was at his studio, downing what seemed to be his hundredth can of Redbull, trying to stay awake. Dre had left the studio shortly before, and he was trying to go over the track they had recorded. He groaned as the receptionist came to him and handed him a package addressed to him. « Who’s it from? » he asked, his brows furrowed. She simply shrugged, mumbling something about a courrier. He sat the box on his desk and opened it slowly, his confusion growing with each item he uncovered. The bracelet, the earrings, the sneakers, the bags… All these were presents he had gifted you. His breath caught when he saw the key, glinting under the soft light of his studio office. But it was the sticky note that stopped him. A phone number. Of course, he didn’t waste any time and immediately took out his phone to dial it. 

His heart pounded as he hit the call button, curiosity and dread warring within him. The line rang once. Twice. « Hello, » a smooth, almost rehearsed voice answered on the other end. « You’ve reached Luxe Companions, Detroit’s premier escort service. How can I help you today? » He froze. « Wait—what? » he stammered, his voice pitching higher than usual. « This is Luxe Companions, » the voice repeated, professional and patient. « Would you like to make a booking? » Marshall’s mouth went dry as realization hit him like a freight train. His eyes widened, and his grip on the phone tightened. No. No way.  « Uh… nah, » he muttered, struggling to form coherent words. « I think I… uh… I think I got the wrong number. » There was a brief pause on the other end, as if the operator was used to this sort of reaction. « Very well, sir. If you change your mind, feel free to call back. » Marshall ended the call abruptly, dropping his phone onto the desk as though it had burned him. His jaw hung open as he stared at the offending sticky note, now armed with a whole new layer of meaning.

« She didn’t, » he said aloud, shaking his head in disbelief. « She wouldn’t. » But you absolutely had.

He ran a hand through his hair, pacing the length of the office. His mind spun in a chaotic loop: you were pissed, and this was your way of making sure he knew it. The message was loud and clear now—if you don’t make time for me, someone else will. The audacity of it stung, but so did the truth behind it. He collapsed into a chair, still holding the note as if it might give him more answers. Less than an hour later, Marshall was standing outside of your door, the sticky note still crumpled in his fist. Maybe it was a side-effect of the exhaustion or the energy drink, but his lips were twitching with a mix of frustration and amusement as he knocked. He had to admit there was something about the audacity, the sheer, unfiltered nerve of your move. He wasn’t sure whether he was mad, impressed or both. 

The door opened just wide enough for you to peek out. Your eyes locked on him, cold and unyielding.  « What do you want, Marshall? » you asked, your voice clipped.  « Well, » he said, leaning casually against the doorframe, « I came to return this. » He held up the note. « Thought maybe you’d accidentally sent me the number to a… uh… high-end hospitality service. »  Your eyes narrowed, your poker face slipping just enough to show a hint of satisfaction. « Accidentally? No. That was very much intentional ».  He let out a chuckle and shook his head. « I figured. You really went there, huh? ». 

You pushed the door open a little more, standing tall with your arms crossed. « You left me in bed like I was nothing. No cuddling. No conversation. Just ‘wham, bam, thanks, ma’am,’ and out the door. » Your voice was calm but laced with venom.  He winced, raising his hands in surrender. « Okay, I get it. I was a jerk. A giant, oblivious, selfish jerk. But damn, sending me to call an escort service? That’s cold, Y/N. »  You couldn’t help but scoff at his audacity. « Was it, now ?! » you shot back, your tone sharp. « I thought it was rather creative ». 

Marshall bit back a grin, trying to stay serious. « Alright, look, » he said, stepping closer. « I know I screwed up. I know I’ve been all over the place, and I’ve been taking you for granted. That’s on me. But come on, babe. You really think I’d go through with calling someone else? ». You leaned against the doorframe, studying him. « I don’t know, Marshall. You’ve been treating me like an afterthought lately. I had to remind you I’m not some cheap hoe. »  At that, his lips curved into a slow smirk. « Cheap? Nah. You’re way too high-maintenance for that. »   Your eyes narrowed, but he pressed on before you could retort.  « Not to be that guy, but… Birkin bags aren’t exactly cheap »  He gestured to your living room, where the infamous orange box your bag had come in sat on a side table. « You’re not a cheap hoe, baby. You’re an expensive one. Top-shelf. »  The audacity of his words made your jaw drop. « Are you fucking serious right now? » you hissed, though your lips, betraying that you were fighting a smile.  « I’m just saying, » he said, raising a brow. « If I’m gonna grovel, might as well acknowledge you’re in a league of your own. »  

As much as you appreciated witty banter, your faint smile vanished as quickly as it appeared. You pulled back, crossing your arms over your chest. « You think this is some sort of joke? » you asked coldly. « You think you can insult me twice in a row and that a clever wording is going to make it ok? ». He blinked, caught off guard. « Woah, hold up » he started, but you cut him off.  « No, seriously, Marshall. You think calling me ‘high-maintenance’ or joking about Birkin bags is cute? I never once asked for any of that stuff. »   Your words hit him like a slap. The air between the two of you grew heavier as your frustration spilled over.  « Do you think throwing expensive gifts at me is some kind of substitute for actually being here? » you continued, your voice rising. « You waltz in with flashy things like it’s gonna make up for the fact that you’re barely present anymore. And then you have the audacity to crack a joke about it? Like I’m some gold digger you need to bribe? »  He opened his mouth to respond but faltered, realizing he had nothing to say that wouldn’t make it worse.  « You know what I value, Marshall? Time. Effort. Real things. Not overpriced bags or shoes or necklaces that just sit in a closet. If I wanted someone who could buy me things, I wouldn’t have chosen you. I wanted you. But apparently, that’s asking too much. »  

Your voice cracked on the last words, and you quickly turned away, your hands gripping the doorframe as you tried to regain some composure.  He stared at you, guilt gnawing at him. Every word you’d said was true, and he knew it. You weren’t materialistic—you never had been. The gifts had always been his way of showing love in the moments he couldn’t be there, an attempt to show that he thought you deserved the very best, but now he saw how empty they must have felt without his presence to back them up. « Hey, » he said softly, stepping closer but keeping his distance. « You’re right. I messed up. Again. »  You didn’t respond, your back still to him. « I thought the gifts… I don’t know… I thought they’d remind you how much you mean to me when I wasn’t around. But I see now that it probably just felt like I was buying my way out of being a better boyfriend. »  You turned to face him, eyes glistening but fierce. « Exactly. I don’t care about the money, Marshall. I don’t care about any of it. I would have loved you just as much if you’d been broke. What I care about is feeling like I actually matter to you. Like I’m not just here for when it’s convenient. » 

« You do matter, » he said, his voice thick with emotion. « More than anything. I know I’ve been screwing up left and right, lately, and you deserve way better than the half-assed version of me you’ve been getting. » You studied him, your walls still up, unsure if you wanted to believe him. « Words aren’t enough, Marshall. You know that. » He nodded with understanding. « I know, » he said quickly. « And I’m not gonna stand here and tell you I’ve got all the answers or that I’m magically gonna fix everything overnight. But I’m gonna show you, piece by piece, day by day, that you’re not just some afterthought to me. I can’t lose you. Not over this. Not over anything. »  The raw sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten. You wanted to hold on to your anger, to make him work for it. But there was something in his eyes—a mix of regret and determination—that chipped away at your defenses. Damn baby blue eyes. « You’ve got a lot to prove, » you said after a long silence.  « I know, » he replied, nodding earnestly. « And no more Birkin jokes, » you added sharply. He raised his hands in surrender. « Scout’s honor. »  For the first time in the conversation, your lips twitched into an actual smile. « You’re lucky I care about you, you know that? »  He exhaled in relief, stepping closer. « Nah, I’m lucky for a million reasons. But mostly because you’re still willing to give me a chance to fix this. » Your eyes softened, though you weren’t about to let him off the hook that easily. « Don’t make me regret it.»  

« I won’t, » he promised, taking your hand. « And for the record, you’re way more valuable than a Birkin bag. Like… priceless. Top-shelf, remember? »  You rolled your eyes but didn’t pull your hand away. « You’re really pushing it. » He couldn’t help but give you a shit-eating grin. « Yeah, but that’s why you love me, right? ».