#This is like watching a car drive into a wall over and over with a driving manual sitting right there

[cindylcuwho]

“ sweetheart ★ ”

— ꒰ 💌 ꒱ drug dealer! matt x baker! reader

— ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ after a deal almost went sideways, matt decides to pay a quick visit to his sweet girl.

— ꒰ 🐁 ꒱ fluff ! making out.. tbh nothing really lol (but the ending😦). 1726 words.

— ꒰ ☁️ ꒱ erm i think this is my most boring fic ever 😜

what was only supposed to be a fast and easy twenty minute meetup turned into an hour long negotiation. matt had his jacket-covered back against a wall, hunched over as he coughed out strings of spit.

one of the guys he was supposed to meet was on the floor, a broken nose the was leaking deep red blood. his bottom lip quivered, closing against the upper one once the blood tried to make its way in his mouth.

matt watched intensely, eyes flickering up every now and then to make sure the other few men that let the sudden fight didn’t try anything. they held smirks on their faces, arms crossed as they stood tall.

“are you done?” the one on the far left rhetorically asked. matt glanced back to the guy on the floor before nodding, standing as straight as he could with his sore ribs.

his face crumpled into a snarl, “what the fuck was that?” he questioned, referring to what just happened. “we just wanted to test you.” one of them answered. “test me?” matt scoffed, “i could’ve killed him.”

“we know, but you didn’t.” the middle one shrugged, “you don’t live up to the family name, matthew.” before matt could respond, he continued, “we heard you were fearsome, someone that makes people shudder in fear at the mention.. and here you are letting a man that dared to take you on live.”

“thought he was one of your men, didn’t want to start anything neither of us could finish.” matt defended. “or.. you’ve gone soft.” the one on the right smiled, “word on the street is you’re wrapped around a girls finger, that true?”

matt immediately shook his head, holding a disgusted look, “i don’t know where you got that from but it’s a fuckin’ lie.”

“unless its straight from me dont believe shit.” the three guys gave matt a pointed look, but decided to not push it. “leave the package where you are and leave.” they commanded.

matt held out his hand for his payment before. the middle man rolled his eyes, stepping forward to place a wad of hundreds in his hand. he looked at the papers, doing quick mental math before leaning down and sliding the small box of goods to where he was standing.

“oh, and matt.. if we find out you lied, there will be a target on your lover.” one of them threatened, shooing him off as even more men walked in the room to pick up the bruised body that was still on the floor.

matt sucked in a breath, turning away and walking out the door. he contemplated in the car, he was well aware of how dangerous the life style he was living was, simply showing you were interested in him would have your life at risk and he just couldn’t do that to anybody.

but there was just something about you. he couldn’t stay away no matter how much he knows he should. you originally met when he had to hide from somebody and random the first building he saw; a small pink bakery building that he didn’t realize was in the process of cleaning for closing.

matt has never been told off in his life, but that night you scolded him for twenty minutes on how rude it was. the next morning he came by to buy a donut that seemed awfully delicious, and offered to take you to dinner as an apology.. who were you two refuse free food?

now what seemed like every night matt would swing by around the same time, almost every time half helping clean up and and half munching on the desserts that weren’t bought.

not breaking routine, even after the prominent threat, instead of making a left to drive to his well sized mansion, he made a right and quickly the familiar building was in his vision.

matt parked his car down the street, choosing to walk the rest of the way incase anybody was tracking the vehicle. he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the bakerys window, licking over the cut on his lip before treading inside and being hit with the overbearing smell of dough.

you were in the back, humming along to the taylor swift song playing as you washed the dirty pans, putting them on their respective drying wrack.

he watched from the doorframe, taking in the sight of how simple and innocent you looked. he would hate to be the one to ruin that part of you, you didn’t even know what his job was- but he wasn’t gonna let you know from the hands of higher class men he had to deal with.

matt walked forward, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head into the crook of your neck, breathing in deeply to take in your scent.

“hi.” he sighed. you smiled, wiping your hand on your apron before bringing it up to toy with the front of his hair. “hey, you okay?” you whispered to him, as if it’d disturb anyone.

he began peppering kisses along your shoulder before bringing his mouth up to your cheek, “just had a long fuckin’ day, missed you too.” he mumbled against your skin.

you nodded, turning to face him. your smile turned into a frown, your thumb lightly tugging at the ripped skin his lips were, “what happened?” you met his gaze, waiting for answers.

matt pulled your hand away, holding it with both of his, “clumsy and fell on the way here, nothing to worry about.” he reassured.

you kept the eye contact with him. matt wasn’t a bad liar, but he made it obvious with how he tensed and untensed. you nodded again, sucking your teeth, “i should have a bandaid around here somewhere.” your hands dug in the pockets of your apron before pulling out a hello kitty designed bandaid.

matt internally cringed at the design. “uh, i don’t think that’s necessary-“ “shut up?” you cut him off, “you’re the one that got hurt, not me, you have no say.”

he rolled his eyes, grabbing your hips to sit you on the kitchens counter. you giggled at him, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer.

matt winced, making you instantly unwrapping them, “whats wrong?” he shook his head, trying to keep a calm expression. your fingers gripped the end of his shirt, slowly dragging it up and revealing the overly reddened skin that was turning purple by the second.

you looked back up at him, suspicion even higher. “i fell, ‘member?” you scoffed, “i’ve fallen a million times i never once got bruised like that.”

he rolled his eyes again, “are you gonna put the stupid bandaid on or what?” you lightly smacked his shoulder, “don’t call hello kitty stupid, you’re stupid.”

matt just laughed, pouring out his bottom lip for the bandaid. his fingers traced small shapes on your hips as you unwrapped it, occasionally giving small squeezes.

“pretty stylish, no?” he joked, turning his head to the side, giving you the full view of the silly bandaid. you smiled, “of course it is, its mine.” you wrapped your hands around his neck, pecking his lips.

matt held your head in place, keeping you there as he continued the kiss. you tugged at the ends of his hair, “the bandaids gonna come off if you don’t stop.” you warned, matt shrugged, leaning in for another kiss.

his tongue pushed against your bottom lip, having you open your mouth wider so he could stick his tongue inside. your tongues met, fighting and tangling against each other as matts over took yours, deepening the kiss even further.

his hands trailed all around your body, wanting to touch every part he psychically could. you moaned softly into the kiss as his hands squeezed under your thighs, grabbing and squeezing your ass.

matt couldn’t pull away. you tasted like chocolate cookies, which wouldn’t be incorrect considering you were snacking on them whilst cleaning. he tasted like root beer and a cigarette you know he smoked before arriving, but it didn’t matter, wasn’t strong enough to make you pull away in disgust.

once you both finally pulled away, it was only to take a quick breathing break. your foreheads rested against each others, small smiles on both of your faces.

“you drive me insane, you know?” he laughed, but his eyes seemed to be full of pure love, “just such a sweetheart.” he whispered, moving the bottom of his head, pecking your lips.

you nodded with a huge smile. your thumb pressed the bandaid back on his lips, but it was barely sticking. you groaned, “see, i knew this would happen! that was my last one too!”

“i’ll buy you s’more then.“ he pecked your lips once more. “you better.. but i guess take it off for now, its weird with it on.” he complied, ripping it off before leaning over to put it in the trash.

matts ring-cladded hands clasped against your thighs, “cmon sweetheart, we gotta finish cleaning.” he unnecessary helped you down from the counter. “can you hurry and sweep out there?” before matt could whine about anything, “i may have left a slice of cake on the holder for you. gotta go clean be for you can eat it, though.”

he nodded, shrugging his jacket off before walking to the front and grabbing the broom. matt hurriedly swept across the floor, there wasn’t much crumbs or trash on the floor so it was easier than ever.

a noise from outside pulled matts attention. his eyebrows furrowed, stepping closer to the front door with the expectation of seeing just a random critter, but the street was empty.

a moment passed and matt leaned from the door. his eyes stayed trained on the outside before being able to make out a figure.

the figure slowly began creeping closer. once the streetlight hit them, matt could see who, or what it was. they were in all black, the ski masks logo they were wearing being the only thing with color.

his heart quickened. matt knew what logo it was. he looked back at the empty doorway leading to the kitchen before back to the person.

matt chewed his cheek, making the quick decision to go outside, hand already grasping the weapon in his pocket.

masterlist , taglist , TTPD masterlist .

— ꒰ 🖇️ ꒱ @freshloveee , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @55sturn , @lanas-doll , @chrissv4mp , @0strawberrysorbet0 , @imwetforyourmom .

[mhahaikyuus]

mafia geto pt 3

pt1 & pt 2

tags:; established relationship, fighting, angst to fluff, mentions of infidelity, arguing, drinking, yandere geto

word count:; 2.3k

a/n: likes and reblogs appreciated. hope you enjoy this little series

On the rare occasion that you were pissed you went back to your apartment without a word. Geto would check your location and god forbid you turned it off. He would hop in one of his many cars breaking every law with his driving and knock on your door until you answered. He didn’t want to fight but more importantly, he wanted you safe. He was a powerful man and now that you were with him meant a target on your back. Your location off sent chills down his spine. 

You were in your bedroom sleeping when pounding at your door woke you up. Groaning already knowing it was your boyfriend with the way he pounded on the door. Grabbing a second pillow you smushed it to the other side of your head trying to drown the annoying noise out. 

Geto wasn’t going to leave without seeing you. Leaning against the wall after knocking on that door “Baby just let me know you’re in here.” He called out with no response. “Don’t make me break this lock I’ll do it.” Geto yelled. He was nervous you weren’t answering. What if something had happened? 

After hearing his threat you pulled yourself out of bed and swung the door open with the most dead expression. “Geto it is 11pm what the hell are you doing.” 

He returned your glare and pushed himself inside. You called him Geto, he hates that. “You turned your location off.” 

“Maybe because I have a stalker for a boyfriend and I don’t like you right now.” You snipped closing the door and following him to your couch. 

Geto ignored the stalker comment with a roll of his eyes (a habit he had picked up from you). Sitting on your couch manspreading yanking his tie to loosen around his neck, running a hand through his long dark hair. 

“I get your mad-“

“I’m not mad im furious. And you being here right now is only making that worse.”

“Do you know what could have happened to you?” 

“I could not have you so far up my ass you can taste my spleen.” You snapped. You didn’t want to hear a safety lecture right now.  

“Darling you’re not ever getting rid of me. I don’t care how mad you are we will work it out angel and you do not turn off your location.” He yelled standing up to face you. 

You rolled your eyes with a small laugh pissing him off more. 

Geto just drove all the way across town and you were still being “bitchy” He muttered

He could see your lips twist and your usually warm eyes radiating an ice cold stare at his words. “I will do whatever the hell I want and you’re not gonna tell me what to do.” You yelled back opening your door. “Get the hell out.” Only you could speak to him like this without fearing for your life.

Geto groaned dragging his hand over his face. There was no point in arguing with you when you got like this, he couldn’t talk this out when you were still scowling at him like that. Geto accepted his temporary defeat walking out the door with a slam following his footsteps. 

You cried yourself to sleep that night and Geto poured himself multiple drinks to go to sleep, but not before sending somebody to watch your building. 

Being your petty self looking at the 6 unanswered messages from your boyfriend and the anger from the recent fight you pressed the block button before throwing your phone away from you. Since you were so bitchy right?

The next morning Geto woke up with a horrific hangover and regret for how he handled last night. He let his anger get the best of him once again and you didn’t tolerate that. He lashed out even worse when he let his fear get the best of him, going through the worst case scenario when you turned off your location. Picking up the phone to call with an apology on the tip of his tongue to find out he couldn’t call you making him frown. 

Weird. 

He texted you once again for the 7th time and saw a green color instead of the familiar blue. 

You had blocked him. 

Geto felt his body go cold. Were you really mad enough to block him? And was it for good? No breakup or explanation just cutting off communication and moving on? 

“Fuck!” 

The bright sun from the morning was what woke you from a rough sleep. You knew that you would have to get out of bed today otherwise wallow in the sadness. All you wanted was a hug from him, but he was a jackass you were prideful. No way in hell were you going to apologize or make the first move when he was in the wrong. Today a couple blocks from your apartment was a farmers market you had been meaning to go to. Spending money you didn’t have to not feel sad was a habit you loved. 

Dragging yourself out of bed to throw on a dress and sandals and a near-empty wallet to waste the day outside in the sun instead of the dark dungeons of your bed. 

Coming out of your building you immediately noticed a black car down the street with tinted windows and you could almost laugh. 

Suguru when you first got together taught you how to spot a tail. So him sending one to follow you was stupid, because not only did you know how to spot but also how to lose one. 

Walking down the street with no facial expression you emerged yourself into the crowd and moved until he lost sight of you. 

It took about four blocks within the busy city sidewalk but it was easy enough while killing two birds with one stone. The tail unable to find you as you slipped in between pedestrians and using moving vehicles for cover. The farmer’s market was only a block away. You spent the entire day buying whatever you wanted with your money without your phone blowing up. 

Geto could’ve put a bullet in his guy’s head. “What the fuck do you mean you lost her.” He almost growled into the phone with an almost crushing grip on the device. 

“She must’ve saw me and dipped into a crowd before I had a chance to track her.” The tail said shakily into the device hearing how angry his boss was. 

“If you don’t find her I swear to god. You better not come back to this house or you’re a dead man.” 

“Yes-yes sir.” 

In the middle of you staring at a booth filled with jewelry, you felt a hand squeeze your ass. You jumped at the feeling and turned around ready to kill whoever put his hands on you. 

Fury covered your features as you turned and immediately stopped when you recognize who it was. 

He was looking down at you with a smile that you were of so familiar with. 

“Did you miss me baby?” Haru smiled down at you.

“Stop grabbing my ass you perv.” You swatted him but felt relief. It wasn’t a random creep off the street trying to cop a feel. 

“You know I can’t resist your sweet ass.” He joked and you snorted in response 

Haru was one of your closest friends when you started college and he was very gay. 

Haru wrapped his arm around you and gave you a kiss on your forehead swaying you back and forth. You returned the hug with a smile. 

He was always very affectionate with you and it had been a while since you two had seen each other. 

“I haven’t seen you in forever, you free to grab food?” He said pulling away. 

It wasn’t like you had anything else going on today. “Yep. But you’re paying.” You said as he held hands with you steering you to a nearby street filled with restaurants. 

Little did you know that while you were distracted by your affectionate friend, that your tail had found you once again. 

He was talking pictures of your interaction from a distance. From the outside it looked really bad. A guy was all over you, groping you, hugging, and giving you kisses. Haru also dressed like a straight guy. 

The tail was panicking. He already was threatened before to be killed and now you were cheating with proof. 

He reluctantly sent the pictures to Geto’s phone as he watched you and Haru laugh over a dinner table. 

You two talked for hours catching up on everything the two of you missed. The restaurant closing was your cue for you to wrap up dinner. 

The sun was setting as he hugged you goodbye and you made it back to your apartment. 

Unlocking your door you kicked off your sandals and dropped your bags before turning on the light. 

Geto was sitting at your kitchen table with a glass of brown liquor in his hands. His eyebags were worse than usual and he had a sad scowl on his face. He had obviously been drinking for a while. His violet eyes bloodshot and heartbroken. 

“What are you doing here.” You said with a frown walking further into your apartment once recovering from shock at his presence. 

“If you’re going to end things with me. I need you to say it to my face.” He said with a slight slur and watery eyes. 

“What the hell are you talking about.” You said with a huff still irritated just by his presence. 

“I’m talking about you blocking me and then I see you with some asshole’s hands all over you in the street not even 24 hours later.” He grimaced bringing the glass to his lips with a tight grip and dark eyes. 

You snort at him bringing up Haru. “First of all i don’t appreciate you having one of your minions stalking me. You think I don’t notice like i’m stupid.” 

“So we're really done.” He said trying to not cry, ignoring your words. 

You sighed and sat down in the chair. 

“No like you said. We’re never really done. Just because I block you for a day doesn’t mean we’re broken up it means i’m pissed and don’t want to speak to you. And that guy who had his arms all over me. He’s my friend.- 

-“What kind of”-

“my GAY friend. Haru is just super affectionate.” You finished before he lost it. 

Geto squinted at you, “How do I know he’s gay.” 

You stood up and sat in his lap. Suguru immediately wrapped his arms around your waist at your touch. No matter how drunk or angry he was at you, he would never pull away from your touch. You pulled out your phone and pulled up a video you had recorded. It was Haru sloppily making out with another guy in a dark club as you cheered in the background drunk as hell from a year ago. 

Geto's bored eyes focused on the screen. You turned off your phone and turned towards him in his lap. You could see some of the tension wrapped around him lessening as the conversation continued. 

Wrapping your arm across his back and laying your head on his neck. He rubbed your back as you sighed. He was jealous and very sad. As angry as you were you could tell he was taking this fight a little too hard. You didn’t like him so drunk and sad no matter how you were feeling. If you thought he was breaking up with you or cheating, you would also be in shambles. 

“I’m tired can you lay with me.” You said snuggling into his neck. 

“You’re not mad anymore?” He asked timidly happy you were still here. He was beginning to sober up a bit as the conversation continued. 

“I was but i’m tired now and I would like to cuddle with you. I walked all day my feet hurt.” You admitted. The hot weather, losing the tail, and dinner took all the energy out of you today. Suguru also loved to cuddle you, it was one of the only things in this world that could soothe him. 

Geto picks you up hands under your butt and carried you to bed. You tugged him into bed next to you. 

“I love you, I missed you.” He mumbled a heavy weight lifting off his chest. You forgave him even if he didn’t deserve it. 

“Im sorry I didn’t mean anything I said.” He said with sad eyes as you two slotted in between each other. 

“I know. I love you too baby, even when you are a weirdo stalker that follows me and breaks into my house.” You said running a hand up and down his stomach accepting his apology. 

Pulling your leg over his you snuggled into his chest and paused when you felt a familiar object around his waistband. You snuck your hand into his pants and pulled out his gun. 

“Did you really have to bring this when you were coming to see me Suguru?” You said with raised eyebrows looking down at him from your elbow placing it on the nightstand. 

Geto smiled at you using his name again. “I thought you were bringing that guy back.”He shrugged trailing his hand up your side 

“And what you were going to commit a murder-suicide?”You asked laying on his warm chest. 

“No I was going to put a bullet in between his eyes and take you home.”He said half asleep smelling your scalp, his favorite smell. 

“You say that like you’re talking about going for a walk.” You said with raised eyebrows. Suguru rarely talked like this in front of you. 

“Because I love you angel and seeing you with another guy makes it very easy.” He replied shutting off the bedroom lamp to finally go to sleep in your arms. 

[mysticfoxdesigns]

Just a funny little scenario that I wanted to write out

Horror Movie Night

The bots and Burns had made it a habit to have movie nights at least once a month. With them each having a busy schedule, finding at least one night where they could all relax and watch something together as a family was appealing.

With it being October, the consensus was to put on a horror movie. While things were being set up, Heatwave and Blades were chatting.

"Not going to be scared of Zombie Hamsters in the wall this time?" Heatwave teased.

"Primus! That was one time!" Blades replied.

"It is ok if you get scared, Blades," Chase butted in.

"I'm not going to be scared over a movie!" Blades said, with a small foot stomp to not disrupt the humans.

"Blades, how about you choose the movie?" Chief Burns offered.

"Any movie?" Blades asked.

"Well Cody is older now, so yes, I will allow even the R rated horror movies," Chief Burns said.

"Oh, ok then. Human Centipede," Blades said, pointing a look at Heatwave.

Instantly a look of disgust covered Kade's face. "Oh god anything but that movie please!"

"Uh, yeah Blades. Anything but that please?" Dani seconded.

"Anything but Human Centipede?" Blades clarified.

"YES!"

"Fine. Final Destination 2, I don't like the first one as much," Blades said.

Kade opened his mouth to protest, but Chief Burns raised his hand to stop him. "You did say anything else."

"Fine," Kade grumbled.

The other three bots shared a look of confusion, but brushed it off as everyone settled down to turn on the movie. Cody looked eager, finally being allowed to see the more "mature" horror films. Kade looked exasperated, already done with the night but holding out to eat the popcorn. As the opening scene played with the main character in the car, Blades had an evil look on their face.

"Why is that motorcycle cutting between the lanes?"

"Just watch the movie Chase."

"There are so many law breaks in this movie! That man is drinking a beer while driving! And her seatbelt was off! This truly is a horror movie."

"Chase we love the commentary, but I'm trying to eat popcorn in peace."

"That muscle car has so much pollution coming out of it. Why don't they have it checked?"

"This movie seems boring."

"It's not even been a minute, give it some time you will see the horror," Blades replied to Heatwave.

"Those chains on the logs don't look up to code..."

"Ouch hot beverage on your lap," Cody said, "I hope he doesn't cras-"

The room went silent as the movie progressed. Looks of pure horror looking spreading across the bots faces, as Blades just smiled. Cody hid his face in his father's shoulder as the scene played out. One the destruction on scene ended with it snapping back to the main character alive, Blades spoke up again.

"Ya know, the only CGI in this movie was for the logs bouncing more, and the extra pigeons in another scene."

After the movie ended, Chief Burns took Cody upstairs to get ready for bed, as the rest remained down in the bunker. Kade yawned, stretching his limbs after staying seated for the entire movie. Dani was already asleep, snoring lightly. Graham turned around to face the bots.

"So, what did you think of the movie?"

"Blades what the frag is wrong with you?"

"A lot."

[pandorasword]

Chaeri as the 8th and youngest member of BTS.

CHAERI'S MASTERLIST

J-Hope's Enlistment

❒ genre: Slice of life

❒ words: 1.3k

❒ summary: In which Hobi spends the night before enlisting with Chaeri and Namjoon

❒ prompts requested from the dialogue prompts game: “I just wanted to say thank you for protecting me”

April 17, 2023

The building could hardly be considered a bar, more like a small shack with barely enough room to fit the counter and a few stools. Two tables, each only able to seat two people, took up the rest of the space. Despite its cramped size, they had intentionally chosen this place for the night, needing the privacy it offered.

The walls were made of worn wood and damp stains were scattered throughout, now covered by old movie posters dating back to before any of the three at the bar were even born. The illustrations, faded and worn, were movie posters, many from the mid-80s, and all shared a common theme: nostalgia. Which happened to be a shared feeling among them.

"Guys, I... I can't drink," Hobi hesitated, his fingers uncertainly hovering over the small glass - courteously offered by Namjoon - in front of him. "Tomorrow is an important day, everything will be filmed and I want to be at my—" but before he could finish his sentence, the amber alcoholic concoction disappeared from the trajectory of his fingers that were still uncertain what to do: to drink or not to drink?

Without hesitation, Chaeri next to him snatched it away and downed its contents in one gulp.

"Chaeri" Namjoon's tone held both reprimand and resignation as he watched her eagerly drink both her Andong Soju and Hobi's. 

“I need to be drunk to make it through tonight” she muttered “And you should drink too, you look awful.”

Hobi could not help but chuckle at the situation.

Their leader's normally composed expression was replaced with one of shock, his eyes wide and mouth slightly agape as if it was the first time the youngest member of their group had spoken to him without the expected respect for someone older.

Namjoon opened his mouth to respond, but then quickly closed it, instead resting his forehead on his open palm and leaning heavily against the counter. "Three more" he finally managed to request from the bartender, who simply nodded and filled three glasses with the same amber liquid as before. 

LATER

He had seen this coming. 

The moment they had suggested spending one last evening together, before it became impossible for who knew how long, he knew it would end like this: in the back of a luxurious car, with him sandwiched between two drunken friends, his shoulders serving as pillows. 

They had laughed and reminisced about the good old days, the first sips of alcohol, the first arguments, and then they had cried. 

Chaeri had ranted about the injustice of their society, how they were forced to endure over a year of grueling training because of an absurd law. 

Hobi didn't want to leave; deep down, she was right. 

But he had no choice. He would have given anything for a thousand more sleepless nights spent with his friends, now his chosen family, rather than fulfilling his duty as a South Korean citizen.

Namjoon was the first to get out of the car once they arrived in front of his residential building, which was the first stop. His legs wobbly from the drive and a few too many drinks.

With an affectionate gesture, he gave Hobi a reassuring pat on the shoulder, promising they’d catch up in the morning, and despite his slightly inebriated state, he also playfully ruffled Chaeri's hair, who was still wearily leaning on Hoseok. Staggering slightly as he stepped out onto the pavement, Namjoon closed the car door with a dull thud.

The car remained stationary for a moment, its engine idling softly, while everyone inside watched Namjoon walk toward the large entrance door of the building. Only when their leader had completely disappeared inside did the driver engage the gears, and the vehicle slowly pulled away.

Several minutes of silence passed in the dim cockpit, lit only by the flickering streetlights that passed the car. "I don't want you to go" Chaeri murmured, her voice barely above a whisper but clear. There was no tremor or drawl in her words, despite all the alcohol she had consumed, only a deep sadness could be sensed.

"First Jin, and now you... who knows who will leave next, and slowly I will find myself alone. I will have no one left. I don't want you to go." Her eyes, sparkling with barely held back tears, met the boy's look, begging, as if she might expect a different answer than the one she already had, as if he might assure her that he was going to stay.

And he wished, with all his heart, that he could.

He wrapped his arm around her, the one Chaeri had been leaning on since they got in the car, pulling her close to his chest in a protective embrace. It was a familiar gesture, repeated countless times during their late-night drives after events that left them both exhausted, when the only sound was the soft hum of the engine.

Chaeri, with her reassuring presence and the fruity scent that seemed uniquely hers, had grown far beyond the girl he remembered. Now, sitting next to him, he could see a fully realized woman, a transformation he had witnessed with pride over the years.

The realization that he had to leave her tightened his heart, a subtle and persistent pain, sharper than the thought of parting from the others. She was his masterpiece, the living testament to the time and love he had invested in her.

She had been his little Chaeri, and he had always been her 'big brother'.

"I don't want to go either" After a pause, he finally spoke up. His breath felt heavy and his throat seemed to have a lump in it, making his voice sound like a faint whisper. He reached out to gently stroke her long hair, trying to offer comfort not just to her, but also to himself.  "But time will pass quickly, and I'll be back before you know it. I'll call you every night, take days off so we can spend them together, and send you all the silly photos I take in that ridiculous uniform. I promise."

Chaeri leaned back from his embrace, her tear-stained cheeks glowing red from the Soju she had been drinking "You better keep that promise" she said, biting her bottom lip to stop it from trembling. "Or I'll personally come looking for you."

Hobi couldn't help but burst into laughter, feeling the tension in his chest melt away, as his own eyes grew watery. "You're not very threatening when you cry" he teased, playfully poking her cheeks with two fingers. 

"And you won't be threatening in a military uniform."

"Oh, I'm well aware of that" Hobi joked back.

"Besides, green is definitely not your color."

"I disagree! I look great in green!"

Chaeri smiled, looking at him tenderly. Playful bickering like that would have been one of the things she would have suffered most away from him. With the palm of her hand she wiped her cheeks "I'm going to miss you"

"I'll miss you too, kid" 

"I know I won't be able to say much in front of the cameras tomorrow, so... I just wanted to say thank you for protecting me. For all these years, thank you. Maybe I've never said it before.. but I mean it"

The man felt his heart swell with love once again as his gaze rested on Chaeri, who looked back at him with her big eyes full of affection. They were a mixture of sweetness and melancholy.

He had to squint slightly to contain more tears. It was incredible how he had become attached to her and the other members of the group over the years, how protecting them and caring for them had become his deepest instinct.It had become instinctive for him, a natural extension of his love for them. He never expected anything in return because every smile from them, every moment of happiness or success, had been his greatest reward

"You never had to say it, Chaeri”

taglist: @alixnsuperstxr | @bts-dream | @enchantingbrowneyedgirl | @ycuvi | @cosmicwintr

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

Where in the heck do you work were there's a shitting problem of that magnitude?

[sourlove]

YANDERE JOCK 🏈

TW: OBSESSION, YANDERE THEMES, STALKING, MILD HARASSMENT, IMPLIED MURDER

(FEMALE CHEERLEADER READER)

Yandere! Jock who is convinced that the two of you are dating.

Yandere! Jock who is like a golden retriever but is a freaking beast on the field and absolutely crushes every game because he sees you cheering on the sidelines for him. When asked how he gets his wins, he says, "My girl is watching. Can't let her down."

Yandere! Jock who blows you kisses and waves even when you ignore him. He just loves you so much and is so happy when he spots you. Sure you might not always respond but the just means he has to try harder next time.

Yandere! Jock who doesn't care when you tell him to leave you alone. You're probably just in a bad mood but it's okay! He'll make you feel better!

Yandere! Jock who has the school also convinced that you guys are dating. He follows you around like a puppy and he always calls you 'my girl' so people naturally assumed you were together. Whenever you try to squash the rumors, he amps it up again.

Yandere! Jock who loves when people think you're together. He begs asks you to wear his letterman jacket so you have his name on you. He literally lights up if you wear it because it's cold or you want him to stop pestering you.

Yandere! Jock who only messes up during games when he stops to watch your cheer routine. If you're on top of a pyramid or some other dangerous stunt, he's rushing off the field to catch you. The football coach has since banned you from participating in any stunts.

Yandere! Jock who is glued to you so much that you slowly start to get used to his presence. He takes advantage of your indifference and tries to do more stuff to get you to acknowledge him. He carries your stuff, buys you lunch, drives you home and even walks you home when you don't want to enter his car. Sure, you don't exactly know he's walking with you but he's just looking out for his best girl!

Yandere! Jock who is so eager to see you, sometimes, that he's waiting outside your door first thing in the morning. What you don't know is that he's been there all night, staring at your window and waiting for you to wake up.

Yandere! Jock who bribes the cheerleaders to wingman for him. All of a sudden, your team is telling you what a sweetheart he is and how you guys look so great together. With all these people on his side, you have to give in sooner or later, right?

Yandere! Jock who finally asks you to be his girlfriend officially and is over the moon when you agree. If you thought he was clingy before, just wait. He's started leaving his things around for you to wear or carry like he's staking his claim on you. You have to explain the concept of personal space and alone time to him but he just stares at you in confusion. Why would you not want to be around him all the time? He loves being around you!

Yandere! Jock who runs up after every game to hug you, despite your protests because he's so sweaty. It's like a dog being so excited they just jump on you and lick all over you. His teammates have to drag him away to his dismay. He just wanted to give you a little kiss, why's everyone keeping you from him?

Yandere! Jock who let's you take charge, in and outside of the bedroom. Boy's just happy to be there.

Yandere! Jock who is clingy even in his sleep. He likes to lay on top of you so you can't slip away and leave him all alone. He's huge so it's like sleeping under a giant space heater. If it's too hot to cuddle, he pouts and whines when you tell him not to touch you at all. He still finds a way though, and sometimes you wake up to him holding your hand from across the pillow wall.

Yandere! Jock who is actually pretty harmless. He's like a giant puppy and isn't violent with the people around you. All he wants is your love and attention 24/7 and everyone is pretty much used to his antics to know where the line is drawn. That is, until a new person comes to school and starts making moves on you.

Yandere! Jock who is usually very friendly but is cold with only them and refusing to leave your side when they're near you.

Yandere! Jock who is in a great mood when they suddenly disappear without a trace.

FIND ALL OTHER PARTS + MY OTHER WORKS HERE

A/N: Please leave a like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed this! I personally this character he's adorable. If you want any headcanons or special requests, leave an ask too :)

@justabratsworld @pinkrose1422 (i feel like you'll like this oc lol)

[steddiecameraroll]

ao3 (includes pt2)

Eddie knows he’s gonna lose it one day. Every single time he watches Steve put his hands on his hips and reprimands the feral teens, he wants to jump the man’s bones.

He ends up pinching whatever exposed skin he has when the urge hits him, leaving itty bitty bruises behind.

It works for months until one evening when Eddie lets his guard down and is 3 beers deep. Steve is leaning against the wall with his shoulder holding himself up. Eddie is telling him about how he had to haul Mike off Dustin the day before and Steve out of habit slides his hand up onto his hip.

Eddie stops midsentence and lets his eyes follow the long lean line of Steve’s body to his fingers.

“What?” Steve asks in confusion.

“Huh?” Eddie’s mouth is open when he looks back up.

“You stopped talking.”

“Well fuck, man.” Eddie sighs and flops against the wall near Steve, his back hitting flat and puffing out a huff of air. “You-you do that bitchy fucking stance and it drives me crazy. I wanna…UGH!” He covers his face, the beer can he’s holding presses against his cheek.

“You wanna what?” Steve sounds nervous.

Eddie whines and stomps his feet a little, trying to hold back his answer. It’s so close to falling out, resting on the tip of his tongue.

“You wanna what, man?” Steve’s voice coming out stronger like he’s daring Eddie to be honest.

Eddie drops his hands and pouts over at Steve. “Don’t make me say it.” He shifts from one foot to the other.

“Say what? You’re acting weird.” Steve stands up straight and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Oh goooood, then you do that.” Eddie whines. “You don’t even know, look at you.” He sighs and flops his arms in defeat.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Steve stares like he’s watching a car crash.

“I WANT TO FUCK YOU! You stand like that and-and I can’t think. It makes me crazy. Like-like feral animal crazy. I want to rip your clothes off and scratch my nails down your chest and watch you tell those little shits off. I can’t fucking take it!” Eddie groans, spins on his heels, and stomps away.

Steve stands in shock, letting Eddie’s words sink in. After a brief moment he shrugs to himself and murmurs, “ok.”

Robin’s head pops around the corner. “What’d you say?”

Pt 2-ish

coffee? ☕️🍩💕

[doobea]

YOU'RE A MEAN ONE, MISTER GOJO ─ SATORU G.

synopsis: satoru gojo is spoiled and arrogant. he's also the next in line to inherit his family's fortune. his father sends him far away in a small town for a week in hopes that he'll 'change' for the better. instead of the usual five-starred hilton hotels, he stays at a local inn and starts to befriend the owner's daughter.

tropes: small town romance, christmas au, golden retriever x black cat

MILESTONE EVENT || MILESTONE MASTERLIST

contents: fem!reader, spoiled rich boy!gojo, acts like an ass to everyone but hopelessly falls in love with you at first sight, feels like a really bad hallmark movie, mentions of wealth class differences, reader isn't a tsundere - she's just indifferent for the most part and introverted word count: 7.5K (idk i will uh make the fics shorter in the future) a/n: thank you anon for requesting this!! idk if this is what you wanted but hopefully you like it!! :3 everyone also give a round of applause to @popponn for beta reading this big mess LMAO

Satoru Gojo has a lot of expectations, but this certainly isn’t one of them.

He isn’t particularly excited about spending a week away from his big city penthouse to be rotting in a small town motel in the middle of nowhere but, his father, CEO of Gojo Corporations, heavily insisted that he ‘needs this’ and that ‘it’ll be good for the company’ — whatever that means. Satoru is confident that his father thinks he’s incapable of running the family business after last month’s run with the paparazzi and his third fling of the month. It wasn’t his fault that they got caught doing drugs at one of Zenin's parties, everyone else was doing the same thing, it just so happened that the cameras were only focusing on him. 

Well, that’s what he gets for signing up to be the son of one of the richest men on Earth.

“You need to start taking this seriously,” he recalls his father slamming his fist down at the desk before throwing a bottle of Henessy at the wall. “I don’t want this company to go bankrupt just because I have a son who only thinks with his dick.”

Ouch… but he’s not wrong about that.

So now Satoru finds himself driving up a winding road somewhere very deep in the mountains. Exactly five hours away from the city. And, for the past three hours, all he’s been seeing are miles and miles of pine trees, sheets of snow, and — he had recently learned this from Suguru — sugar shacks. Apparently when you’re out over a hundred miles into wilderness territory these sap houses are littered everywhere.  The fact that Satoru is beginning to count more shacks than designer cars on the road is really starting to get to him. 

“This whole thing is so fucking stupid,” Satoru has also been talking to himself throughout the journey in order to not lose his mind. “He could’ve just sent me door to door caroling instead of whatever this is.” Satoru doesn’t know how to sing well, but he does know all the lyrics to ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ and that usually gets him all the tips. He wonders if he can manage to make a small side hustle when he starts wasting his week here.

He takes a sharp turn up around the hill before finally recognizing a big red sign with the name ‘Mistle Town’ as seen on the postcard his dad left him before leaving. It takes him another five minutes of driving through said small town, which is quite literally something out of one of those really bad holiday movies that his mom would force him to watch when he was little, before arriving at the inn. Upon arriving, Satoru is noticeably disappointed at the lack of valet assistance and, the size and design of the inn, is rather lackluster. 

First, it just looks like a regular white farmhouse. Maybe having a max of ten rooms, none of them being penthouse sized, Satoru assumes. There are a couple of flowerbeds out front, all covered in a couple of inches of snow, and there’s subtle signs of holiday decor slowly bleeding its way outside. He sees someone dressed in an oversized puffer by the entrance, arms occupied with red tinsel and large white ornaments, and figures that the first nice thing he’ll do is to help out a random stranger — just to prove something to his dad.

Satoru parks his Rolls Royce in a spot furthest away from everyone else in the parking lot and sends a ‘im alive and well’ text to Suguru, because he’s very much so going to be in frequent contact with him for the remainder of the trip, before heading up.

“Need a hand?” He points out the obvious but still manages to throw a smile as if he’s already fixed the situation unfolding in front of him.

Satoru’s presence seems to pull you from your busy trance. You wiped your body around, nearly smacking the damn tinsel in his face, and made a small surprised noise.

“I’ve got it,” you muffle out and he looks entirely unconvinced but, whatever, he tried anyway.

Satoru gives you a few encouraging pats on the back before heading inside, failing to realize his strength and causing you to lose your balance, making a few ornaments tumble to the ground. Thank god they’re all plastic though.

He pretends to not hear you yelling after him as he enters the double doors, immediately greeted by the scent of roasted coffee beans and leather. It’s the precious hour in the morning where nobody comes by, right after the cleaning staff had just finished vacuuming, when he struts in. He immediately spots someone vaguely familiar by the front desk. Long black hair, a red poofy bow tie in the back, and a distinctive scar across her face. The woman isn’t working alone, a man with another facial marking is next to her, brewing two cups of coffee by the espresso machine. 

Satoru looks at the woman again and outwardly smiles. “What are you doing here?”

“Ugh,” Utahime’s composure immediately falters at the sound of his voice, not that it’s a big shock. “Helping the family business, what else?” she throws back with a certain sharpness to her tone, and waves off the casual talk. “Have you even mentally prepared yourself for what you’re getting into?”

Satoru simply shrugs and saunters over to a nearby seat by the counter. “Nah, honestly just planning to fuck around till I get back.”

Utahime flushes a little, though it’s mainly from frustration. “Satoru Gojo, you really are—”

“Utahime,” the man next to her speaks, handing her a cup of coffee, and slides Satoru a freshly brewed one, too. “I can explain the details to him, if you would like?”

The older female rubs the bridge of her nose and exhales a long, overdue sigh. “Please do, Choso.”

“Yeah,” Satoru leans into the counter, lips pointed down at this new face. “Please, do tell.”

“You’re basically our little Santa helper.” A new voice rings out from behind him. It spooks Satoru from his seat and he whips his head around to be met with your narrow eyes.

“Huh?”

“Also think of this as an unpaid internship.” You start laughing when he gags on his own saliva at your statement. “Okay, you don’t have to be so dramatic about it.”

Satoru swallows. “U-Unpaid…?”

Now it’s Utahime’s turn to speak, she huffs and tosses a couple of stockings into his arms. “Your father sent us a lengthy email a few days prior regarding your bratty behavior. So, of course, we came prepared.” 

“Prepared…?” He feels the fabric in his hands and whines at the grainy texture. This is so not 100% real wool.

If Satoru thought he had any chance of actually taking over his father’s company, because he knows the difference between supply and demand, he’s wrong.

Customer service is not his forte. He’s always thrown emails and sponsorship paperwork at his many assistants, and Satoru doesn’t even know his own email log-in password. So, when you walked up to him first thing the next morning with a brown apron, the inn’s logo large and embroidered in the center, telling him how to function all these coffee machines that he’s seen behind hundreds of counters, it invoked some fear into his already wrecked nerves. Plus, no one dared to warn him about the clientele during a holiday rush.

“I want a venti peppermint frappe with two pumps of chocolate, three pumps of hazelnut, replace it with almond milk, one shot of espresso, and top it off with a drizzle of caramel on top.”

He slumps against the counter. “You sure you want all of that?”

“Can I please get a half dozen sfogliatella and a cannoli?

He starts picking at his cuticles and sneers. “Sorry, I don’t speak Italian.” 

“My change is supposed to be five dollars, you only gave me three back?”

Satoru groans. “You’re trying to scam me, aren’t you?”

By the end of his four hour shift, Satoru feels like he’s just done more charity work than he’s ever done in his life — actually, maybe this could also be comparable to the time where he did the ribbon cutting ceremony at Chanel; gotta support small businesses, right?

“Gojo.” You’re seated across from him behind the counter, arms crossed and pursed lips.

He barely spares you a glance as he idly plays whatever shitty mobile game that’s number one on the app store. “Mhm? What is it?” He clearly knows you’re upset, your voice practically screams ‘I will end you’ in the most monotonous way possible. But can you blame him? Of all places, Satoru does not want to spend his winter break here.

You jerk your head to the side, fingers rhythmically tapping away on the counter, clearly unimpressed. “It hasn’t even been a full day and you’ve managed to piss off every single customer.”

Satoru expression shifts, brow creasing, and sighs, grabbing a handful of mint chocolate from the freebie candy jar by the register. “Don’t be dramatic,” he rolls his eyes and shoves three pieces in his mouth before jabbing a finger at a young man. “I didn’t piss him off!”

You glower, cheeks slightly puffed out. “That’s Yuuji and he’s practically a family friend and Choso’s little brother, so he doesn’t count,” you explain before adding, “Plus, he’s literally nice to everyone. You’re not special.”

And for a second, Satoru considered arguing that fact. Having been born into wealth, granted whatever wish he wanted, his butlers and maids are always on speed dial, that’s the lifestyle he’s used to. Placed on this tiny rock called Earth just to take over it one day, is what his father used to always say to him. But how can he, Satoru Gojo, take over when he’s stuck working a minimum — scratch that, unpaid — wage job as punishment? 

Instead of fighting, Satoru slumps against the counter and pouts, like a little kid who just got their toy taken away. You and your sister Utahime have a clear advantage over him, by somehow being close, yet distant, friends to his family. Maybe karma is real. 

“I’m putting you on ski lessons later.”

Satoru’s ears perk at this. “Oh, so I get some employee benefits, right?”

You roll your eyes, digging deep in your pockets to pull out a sheet with his name next to a list of others. “Wrong. You’re in charge of teaching five year olds how to ski.” 

“Huh?”

Somehow that sounds even worse than being a barista. Kinda. 

By the end of his first day of unemployment, Satoru tries to convince himself that a full change of scenery is nice. Well, he has to convince himself, otherwise he’s stuck dreading each coming day for the rest of the week. 

“Tired yet, Gojo?”

You flop down on a spare armchair in his room, squishing his Canada Goose jacket underneath. He’s too tired to yell at you to get off and tumbles onto his bed, feet dangling off the edge, letting out a loud groan when his face immediately makes contact with the rough wooly blanket. Surprisingly to him, everything just feels so comfortable that the quality of the products doesn’t even cross his mind.

Sure, the air in the room is a bit musty, and he can feel his cheeks flaring up from the sudden change in temperature and the dull aching nag in his legs from demonstrating ski tricks to toddlers, but there’s an odd sense of fulfillment swelling in his chest just about now. He almost suggests taking over Choso’s lesson but, according to the hotel pamphlet, there’s going to be an ice fishing tournament tomorrow and he kinda wants to check that out, too.

“Exhausted,” he mumbles into the sheets, eyes squeezed shut. Satoru wiggles his body around for a few moments before slipping out of his snow boots and stares out the window, noticing flickering green and purple lights in the night sky. “Woah, are those…?”

He hears you laugh beside him. “Yeah, northern lights. We see them all the time during the winter.”

“Only seen them bitches in ‘Polar Express’.” Satoru finds himself saying whatever’s on his mind right now, his brain too whipped out to control his mouth. “You guys are lucky to see this every night.”

“I know you’re all pooped out from today but,” he feels the mattress dip by the edge and your fingers poking at his thighs. “Did you wanna head up to the balcony and watch them for a bit?” you say this experimentally, waiting for his reaction. 

Satoru might be a stranger to most natural phenomenons, having to zone out all the time whenever he did go on family vacations to a fancy national park when he was younger. Though, during the short time of spending his time here, it makes him think about packing up and leaving behind the fast paced city life for a bit of natural beauty and brightness.

“Carry me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re like a giant.” 

He manages to gather some energy to sit up on his elbows. “You should at least have some form of hospitality to a family friend, you know?”

You eye him for a long moment, and then finally huff, breaking the contact to kick your feet into the festive carpeted floor. “Alright, just don’t lean your whole body weight on me.”

“Wouldn’t count on that.”

Both of you end up tumbling onto the balcony rails around one in the morning. As expected, Satoru couldn’t keep to his promise, throwing his ridiculously long arms around your shoulders, and whining the whole way up the stairs. It’s not his fault that the inn didn’t have an elevator installed. In all, it’s not a bad day — a bad night, even. 

You straighten him against the railing before throwing a blanket over him. The fabric is thick and heavy, and Satoru forgets the ache in his limbs as he watches the way your eyes focus, eyebrows knitted, when you’re making sure he stays bundled up against the winter air. Once upon a time, Satoru never would’ve thought he would actually enjoy being in the company of someone who’s actively trying to teach him a lesson.

“Okay,” you say suddenly, almost like a reminder that you need to breathe, and pull away from him once he’s wrapped tightly like a swaddled baby. 

You both sit in silence for a moment, and Satoru feels the urge to fill all that silence. He supposes maybe that’s why most people find him so annoying. He never really shuts up, always wants to add the last comment to everything. Though, with the help of Suguru by his side, it’s gotten slightly easier and bearable for others but, when his head is big and full of loud thoughts, it’s so hard trying to calm the buzzing noise in his head and —

“Gojo, look,” your pointer finger darts at the illuminated skyline in the distance and he snaps his head, following the trail, before gasping.

He feels your other hand tugging at the blanket when he finally makes out two faint bright lights in the distance. You squirm slightly next to him, to the point where your shoulders touch, and Satoru finally breathes, because suddenly, there’s heat rushing in. The loud, rough winds around him seem to die down and he’s aware of the slightly gazed expression on your face as you look into the far distance.

“Did you make a wish?” he finds himself whispering.

You grin. “Yeah, gonna make you work here for eternity,” you reply back in good natured spirit.

Something stirs inside Satoru. Something important. Well, Satoru-level important, so in the grand scheme of things, not very — but still. He unravels parts of his blanket and throws it over your head, making sure that it messes up your hair, and laughs when you throw him another pout. 

“Did you make a wish?” you adjust the blanket so it covers your shoulders, moving a little closer to him, avoiding the cool breeze.

Satoru nods but presses a finger to his lips. “Not telling, though. Might not come true if I do.”

“Oh, shoot. Maybe I should’ve kept mine a secret then.”

He rolls his eyes and nudges your waist with an elbow. “You will definitely not see me here again.”

Satoru realizes, very fast, that his life has become very different, very quickly. And it might not be the bad kind of different. 

Over the course of the next few days, he’s practically glued to your side as you’re showing him all things related to hospitality that his father tried to drill into him when he was a pre-teen. Obviously, it didn’t work at the time. Satoru’s known for being defiant just because he wanted to, and eventually his father stopped with the after school etiquette lessons. You, on the other hand, unfortunately have him tied around your fingers.

“You need to tidy up the edges more, Gojo.”

“There’s barely a wrinkle in these sheets!” He points at the bed sheet on the mattress, the one that he’d been working on for the last ten minutes in vain while you stood next to him with slightly concerned eyes. It’s a room service type of lesson today and, even though Satoru has never made his own bed before, he’s positive that he didn’t leave behind any smudges that might catch anyone’s eye.

“Did you check tuck in the sides? Or are you trying to get off easy for today?” You say, there’s a mild accusation in your tone when you speak, smiling as you step aside. 

And, despite the warm smile, Satoru frowns a little, because guess who forgot to tuck in the sides? 

When Satoru ducks his head around the mattress and sees a good loose chunk of the sheets hanging off and groans when you’re right. “It’s not my fault that they’ve made them so big for no reason,” he replies, somewhat embarrassed, rubbing the back of his head and messing up his already ruffled hair.

You roll your eyes and stick a tongue out. “You’re getting the hang of it though, maybe even faster than Yuuji when he first offered to help.”

He flushes at the unexpected praise and quickly fixes the sheets, turning his whole entire body away from your sight. “Better than Yuuji, right?”

“Oh? So, you only work better with compliments, Gojo?” You sound amused, as if a lightbulb just popped on top of your head.  

Satoru flattens out the bed once more, strangely now feeling satisfied with the final outcome before turning around, sticking out a tongue of his own. “Only if it’s from you,” he answers, honestly. 

You laugh, and hopefully it’s not at him. “I thought you would be more annoying to deal with.”

“So, I’m just regular amounts of annoying?” He points out, with a fake frown, his fingers fiddling with the edges of the sheet.

You turn your gaze, seemingly in deep thought, before responding with a small shrug and grin. “Possibly a perfect amount of annoying.”

Satoru feels the blood rushing to his cheeks, again. “Well, of course, it’s the perfect amount because I’m perfect,” he replies, instantly, but suddenly he’s shy and feels the need to go to the next room to fix their stupid sheets before he combusts in front of you.

“Gojo,” you say, almost hesitantly. 

He swallows and rubs the back of his neck, wiping off evidence of his sweaty palms. “Yeah?”

“You missed a spot,” and your pointer fingers direct at the far right corner of the bed frame. He must’ve pulled the sides too hard and it caused the other side to flip over. Ugh, he’s not cut out for this at all.

“I’m… uh, still better than Yuuji, right?”

“Mhm, getting there, Gojo.”

By day four, Satoru has surprisingly adjusted to the rules and responsibilities. He’s not entirely sure what’s gotten him mildly well behaved, Suguru is a bit surprised by the daily updates being less… aggressive and whiny. What started as long vent paragraphs about the lack of heated flooring and needy customers, soon turned into photo albums of kids face planting into the snow and unconsented selfies with you in the background. Satoru absolutely makes sure you end up looking the worst out of the two because he’s gotta let his best friend know who’s the prettiest and he’s definitely racking up a blackmail album of all of your worst moments in case anything happens in the future. 

It’s closing time and he just got back from the reindeer shed out in the back, covered head to toe in all things hay and snow. First things first, and no one bothered to tell him, but reindeers smell bad. Like, really bad. Especially at the end of the day, where their pens are covered in shit and countless carrots and apple bits from the little kids overfeeding them. Satoru is vaguely aware of the fact that he smells, just like he’s vaguely aware that the hotel lobby is oddly quiet from the usual banter between you and the usual workers.

Utahime and Choso are sitting by the cafe bar, seemingly deep in conversation about ordering more supplies for next week. Satoru thinks about interrupting their session with probably an unrelated dumb question, but the idea dies when Utahime notices his presence and motions him to come over. 

“You stink,” Satoru casts a half-glare at Utahime and begins picking out some of the scattered hay pieces stuck to his sweater. 

“For the record, I became good friends with Rudolph and Vixen today,” he grumbles back and Choso throws him a pat on the back.

“Hey, I don’t mind your stink, by the way. Smells kinda nice,” Choso offers up, but Satoru only shoots him a very unhappy look.

“If you think I smell nice then I’m really worried about what you think smells bad,” then he turns over to Utahime again, who’s engrossed in whatever is on her clipboard right now. “So, what did you need from me?”

“My sister,” she starts and taps away at the clipboard before handing it over to him. It’s pages upon pages of invoices from the past month. “Could you hand this to her? She should be in the back.”

“You treating me like an errand boy?”

Utahime scoffs. “What? Don’t wanna see her?”

“No, I do,” he responds, a bit too fast for his own liking, and straightens out. “Uh, is that all?” Satoru hopes his face doesn’t betray how much he’s a bit excited to interact with you, given that today was a full day out in the trenches, and he absolutely needs to hear you say his name at least twice a day in order to have a good night’s sleep.

Choso is trying really hard not to laugh, and Satoru takes it as a sign that he currently has a cheesy smile on his face — go figure. “One of the corner rooms upstairs requested a weighted blanket, mind also doing that too?”

There’s a certain relief that floods through Satoru and he thinks maybe he can take on a few more tasks for the night if that means spending a little more time with you, even if his body is screaming that he needs to take a two hour long shower. 

“Hey,” he starts to say when he rounds the corner, “Where’d you put those weighted blankets again?”

Satoru expected to walk in on you neck-deep in paperwork. You’ve mentioned earlier in the week that this year would be the busiest and there’s a bunch of stuff due. Something about end of the year tax returns and inventory counts, it all goes out his ear but he remembers something similar that his father told him in a prior conversation. He thinks he could probably help you figure out some of it, but that might be a bit much.

What he walks in on, thought, is you sitting in your little makeshift office. You’re on your laptop, the screen’s tilted just right enough that he gets a glimpse of what you’re looking at. You’re looking at flights and hotels, even got a whole spreadsheet on the second monitor. From what he’s seen of you so far, you didn’t come off as the type to talk about your future that much.

His voice catches you by surprise and your expression flickers from something vaguely focused to embarrassment real quick. You hastily close out the tabs and go back to the hotel’s homepage.

“What is it, Gojo?” And there’s this awkward, oddly frantic moment of you fumbling around with the keyboard and mouse, like a teenage boy who’s just got caught looking at porn.

“Ah,” Satoru thinks seeing your flustered side is rather adorable, to say the least. “You tryin’ to plan a vacation or something?” He struts over to your desk, placing a firm hand onto the back of the chair, and there’s this smile on his face that just screams ‘gotcha’.

Your face scrunches up but it’s not out of annoyance. “Kinda?”

Even with a grumpy look, it’s a good look on you. Makes you kinda dark, brooding, and beautiful, and it turns your eyes into dark storm clouds, or some other weird, waxy poetic shit that Satoru can’t figure out the words to. Either way, Satoru thinks you look cute and can’t stop noticing your little facial movements. You’re more expressive than you would probably imagine.

“Ooh, where to?”

You sigh and start playing with your thumbs. “Malaysia. My friend told me great things about it and I’ve been meaning to go for a while now but time and money are always iffy.”

“Makes sense, I can imagine that being an inn assistant doesn’t pay all the bills.”

That was probably the wrong thing to say. You huff and glare, an icy-death glare, at him. If looks could kill, Satoru is sure that he’ll be six feet underground by now. 

“Weighted blankets are on the second floor closet by the laundry room,” you answer his initial question curtly before shutting the laptop. “Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“It was just a question,” he mumbles slowly, and maybe even a little dangerously. “If money’s an issue—”

“Gojo.” Your voice is fixed and rigid, one that leaves absolutely no room for debate. “Your dad was right about you; you always just fall back to your fame and wealth.”

As you’re busy staring, Satoru realizes that you’re kinda being a total ass to him right now.

“That’s not fair,” his voice is rising and can’t seem to put a stop to the words spilling out. “Don’t bring my dad into this conversation.”

“Or what? You can go back to your privileged life anytime you want. This is just a field trip for you while others actually have to try hard and make a living.” You spit out. 

“No one forced you to become an inn worker, you know? If you’re so worried about money then you could’ve just found another high paying job.” Satoru wrinkles his nose and his volume continues to rise. 

You immediately offer him a dark glare and it comes off in a cut-throat way that shuts Satoru up mid thought. The rest of his counters die in his throat when you start making hand gestures at the office exit and he gets the hint: ‘leave before I lose my shit’ is the calling he sees.

And it works, because he finds his tone shifting a little, awkwardly kicking the floor and backing off. “Whatever…”

That was last night and, by now, Satoru is realizing that he’s kind of a giant asshole and the guilt is slowly eating away at him. Was he always like this? It couldn’t have been — he’s only met you a few days ago, and this is only meant to be a quick, ‘vacational’, getaway. Sure he might be a bit selfish and a dick, but he had been able to function perfectly fine before all of this, hadn’t he? 

Satoru’s not really sure.

It’s noon, and he’s lying in bed. Choso had asked him to cover his shift at the cafe, and he’d agreed, readily, even though it’s supposed to be his day off, because you’re working. Choso had texted him, though, saying that you had simply said you’d work the entire shift by yourself.

Of course. It’s absolutely not funny anymore.

Satoru sighs. He’s going to apologize, that’s for sure. It wounds some of his pride, yeah, but whatever, this tension between you guys, though, isn’t worth it. He finds himself wasting his entire morning away rotting in bed. There are things that he could be doing, that he looks forward to, like feeding the reindeers or demonstrating basic ski moves to little kids. Choso and Yuuji totally got him addicted to yelling out ‘pizza’ and ‘french fry’ at every chance he gets. They also got him addicted to a shitty relationship forum they both browse, but somehow the idea of reading other people’s relationship drama, when he’s facing drama of his own, is kinda mentally exhausting.

On second thought, maybe he should post on that forum, actually.

It might not be such a bad idea.

Or maybe he could reach out to Suguru and ask how to apologize? 

His best friend is a bit more grounded and attuned with other people’s feelings compared to him, afterall. Satoru’s not good at this stuff and he’s always just cut others off whenever they do argue, but this feels different. And, well, for the first time in forever, Satoru is desperate. 

“I fucked up big time and I need to apologize, help me out here?”

Suguru scoffs over the line. “Wow, what happened to saying ‘hello’ or ‘how are you’?”

Satoru rolls his eyes. “Hi, hello. How are you? How do I make a sincere apology?”

“I’m good, thank you. Now, for your request, depends on how big the fuck up is.”

He bites his tongue, finding the right words to essentially not sound like a huge dick but, no matter how he wants to rephrase it, the outcome is the same. “I might’ve implied that she’s poor and needs someone to take care of her?” It sounds so stupid, so mean, and so degrading now that he’s saying it out loud. 

He hears Suguru sucking in his teeth and sighs. After a couple of pauses, his best friend finally speaks. “That’s pretty fucked up.”

Satoru frowns. “Okay, yeah, it is,” and he sits up in his bed when a snowball makes an impact against the window. It’s Utahime. And, currently, she’s throwing him the nastiest glare that a woman has ever given him in his life. “Um, I’ll call you back, buddy…”

“What? I haven’t given you—”

“Don’t have time for unwarranted advice right now.”

“You called me!”

“Bye!” Satoru ends the call before shuffling towards the window, swallowing a hard lump, and inches the glass panel just small enough for him to hear coherently and not big enough for her to punt him across the face. “Lovely morning, isn’t it?”

But Utahime is in an obvious shitty mood and Satoru’s lack of charming antics aren’t going to work this time. “I’m going to apologize, I promise,” he tries to insist.

“This is all your fault,” she immediately gets to the point and it makes him shrink back just a tiny bit. He’s starting to see that the bluntness runs in the family. “Just get your ass to work.”

“But my shift doesn’t start till—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Utahime starts to form an even bigger snowball and raises it to the window panel. “Ass out of bed, now.”

Okay, so as much as Satoru had tried to tell himself that this week wouldn’t be bad, it’s really starting to get fucking awful.

Everyone’s in a shit mood. Yuuji tries to crack some jokes but the usual crowd isn’t having it. You’ve been throwing Satoru dirty looks while working behind the cafe counter together and he’s been put on drink duty — which is his worst nightmare — while you’re attending to the customers because you’re young and cute enough for them to be nice to you. Satoru has spilled hot coffee and chocolate on himself like four times so far, and the shift just started. He’s terrified that the rest of this week is going to be like this.

“Can we talk?” Satoru whisper shouts over the espresso machine.

He sees your shoulders tensing up but immediately relaxes them afterwards. “Did you hear something, Yuuji?”

The boy looks up from the bar counter, it’s his day off and he’s catching up on some homework, but the seemingly growing tension that’s unfolding in front of him is making it painfully hard for him to focus on anything engineering related. Yuuji scratches the back of his neck before darting his eyes back and forth between the two of you. Normally, he would be the voice of reason, but Satoru doesn’t blame him when he shakes his head.

“N-Nah, must’ve been the wind or something...” 

Great, he’s been reduced to an air draft.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought,” you agree without missing a beat. As the next customer in line spends an eternity holding everyone up, debating whether to get the seasonal muffin or french toast to go with their drink, you continue, “Thought I heard a rotten brat for a second.”

He absolutely doesn’t expect the harsh insult. Satoru widens his eyes at the outburst and there’s a small pause, the silence ticking in between everyone, and he’s sure that you’re glaring him down somewhere in a small reflection on the counter. 

Satoru debates whether to call out your name and shake some sense into you, but Yuuji quickly swallows and makes a motion with his hands to his throat, a universal signal saying — ‘I wouldn’t test the waters, if I were you’.

And, after the customer finally decides that they didn’t want any pastries with their coffee order, you finish the transaction before announcing that you’re going on a small fifteen minute break to “stretch”. Though, anyone could see that you’re planning to cool off before you manage to actually blow up in Satoru’s face.

“How the hell am I going to talk to her?” he groans to Yuuji once you’re finally away. He’s managing the cash register and, surprisingly, finishes taking the remaining orders quite smoothly compared to his first day. At least he can pat himself on the back for this. 

“You’ve really pissed her off, dude,” Yuuji replies and Satoru just rolls his eyes because that’s all he’s been hearing from everyone else all day today. “You should talk to her when she’s not… charged up.”

“Way to point out the obvious.” Sometimes he forgets that Yuuji is a bit oblivious. How is he doing so well as a mechanical engineering major? 

Yuuji makes an audible ‘pop’ and whistles. “What did you even say to her?”

Satoru groans into his hands. “Did she not tell you?”

“Well, she wasn’t exactly in a chippy mood to talk about anything this morning — outside of work, that is.”

“Here’s a little TLDR version: might’ve said something classist.”

“Might’ve?”

“Okay, definitely said something classist.”

“Then…” Yuuji drums his fingers against the counter, deep in thought. “Y’know, whenever me and Megumi fight, I always invite him out to the movies to try and cheer him up. Might not be applicable to you but…”

Satoru blinks. “Are you suggesting a date would help?”

“Maybe not a date—”

“No, I’m sorry for calling you dumb, you’re so right—a nice date might work!”

“You never called me dumb, though?”

“Yeah, okay, whatever you say, kiddo.”

Satoru unravels the ribbon on his apron and throws it in Yuuji’s general direction, not caring if he tossed the stained uniform directly in his face. He hops the counter and pats the younger male on the shoulder, flashing him a genuine smile because, hey, maybe Yuuji actually is smarter than he looks.

“Gonna totally invite you to the wedding.”

It’s no secret that Satoru Gojo hasn’t been on a proper date in a pathetically long time.

He has swiped right on a number of highly influential celebrities and figures on dating apps before. Matched with nearly all of them. Gone on…maybe a lot of first dates with not a lot of second dates coming right after. Who cares though, everyone’s just there for the photos and followers anyway. Satoru knows that he’s attractive and that he personally loves big, lavish dates but, at this point, he knows you enough to understand you absolutely hate big gestures. 

After a short winded conversation with Suguru and Utahime, separately, Satoru has concluded on not buying you first class tickets to Malaysia. 

“Are you trying to get her to hate your guts?” Was the general consensus of the conversation with said people. 

So, what’s the next best option if he can’t fly you out to Malaysia? The answer is pretty simple — bring Malaysia to Mistle Town. And no, he’s not going to be relying on his black card for anything, even though the back of his mind is telling him otherwise. 

Choso blinks several times at Satoru’s printed out proposal. The colorful letters and Google image photos of beaches and coconuts slapped poorly onto the document screams back at Choso and Yuuji, bright and early on Christmas Eve. 

It’s unusual for Satoru to be bouncing excitedly in place for someone other than himself. So this catches everyone off guard. 

Yuuji whispers something intangible to Choso, but Satoru is able to make it out as, “Do we even have coconuts here?”

To which Choso replies, “It’s winter, so I don’t think so.”

And Yuuji moves onto the next question in queue, “What should we do about the lack of palm trees?”

A patient sigh from Choso, “We could always trim the pine trees outside?” He lamely suggests. 

“It’s a good idea, no?” Satoru jumps right back in, completely missing the flat vibe from the brothers. He frowns. “Why are you guys giving me that look?” 

And, like his best friend and your sister, the brothers throw him a confused head tilt. 

“Well,” Yuuji weakly starts, “Your plan ‘Project: Bring Malaysia here in hopes of Y/N falling in love with me’ doesn’t really sound that great… even on paper.”

Satoru grins, fully expecting that to be the response. “I’ll order the things, don’t worry about it. I just need to borrow your lungs for this project.”

Yuuji scratches his cheek in confusion, laughing nervously again. “Our lungs…?” he echos. 

“How long do I have to keep this dumb blindfold on, Choso?”

“U-Um,” Choso shoots Satoru a brow as he carefully guides you through the hotel lobby. 

It’s currently decked out from head to toe in all things yellow, green, and pink beach themed inflatables. Choso and Yuuji reminded Satoru last night that maybe two flamingos would’ve been enough to get the message across, but seeing that he ordered a whole colony? Yeah, he’s sending the rich boy prayers as he reels you in further, avoiding collision with the colorful balloons and seven-foot tall palm trees, too.

“Choso?”

He squeezes your shoulders when Satoru shoots him a thumbs up. “Ten seconds.”

Satoru quietly walks over to both of you, tip toeing so the sounds of his loafers are minimized against the flooring. Once he’s inches away, Choso retreats off into a different room, mouthing to him words of final encouragement, which Satoru gladly took. 

You appear restless under the blindfold. “I swear to god, if I take it off and there’s a giant pile of reindeer shit in the middle of the lobby I will actually kill somebody—”

And Satoru quietly debates whether or not he wants to keep you like this for a little while before revealing the big surprise. Seeing you flustered and confused is a very cute look on you, after all. But, he’s gotten you this far and it would absolutely kill him to leave you on such a bad notice. It’s now early evening, and the sun’s just starting to set enough that the golden rays illuminate your features from this angle. It takes Satoru back to his first private meeting with you on the balcony and he remembers why he’s even doing this in the first place.

Carefully and slowly, he slips down the blindfold and softly calls out your name. “Hey, take a look around you.”

Your eyes are blown wide when you see his face. Anger and frustration dissipate from your face when you soon realize that Satoru carries a soft expression. He watches as the emotions wash off as quickly as they came. Then, you finally take a look around your surroundings and gasp. “You—You did all of this for me?”

Satoru tenses a little, a bit on the edge. “You want the short or long answer?”

You don’t notice because you’re too preoccupied with the numerous fake flamingos around you. “On second thought, maybe no answer would also work.”

He laughs at this, slightly, before turning shy again. He feels silly, ashamed, and it makes his cheeks flush. “I wanted to say sorry again for what I said earlier.”

“You finally want to talk about it?”

He looks at your idle hands and then back to your face. When he sees that you don't move them away as he inches closer, he takes both of them into his palms, giving them a tight squeeze. “Yeah, I was a big idiot and I thought I was trying to help in the beginning but I just sounded—no, I am—a giant ass.” Satoru concludes. 

The atmosphere grows quiet and heavy again. The air humid and thick despite the opened windows and you’re looking at him. Then, there are tiny little smiles that break out on your face, like freckles and stars in the sky. 

“You’re such a pillow princess,” and he outright blushes ten shades darker at the nickname, “you’re lucky you’re cute.” Coming from you, that’s as good as a love confession.

I like you, he thinks, but doesn’t say it. He really likes you and doesn’t want to fuck this up.

But, everyone knows that Satoru Gojo is a child at heart. 

Satoru doesn’t know who gives in first; realistically, it might’ve been one of those stupid, rare, impossible moments where it’s completely shared. Suddenly the gaudy blow up palm trees and inflatable pool blur from his vision and he feels the world roaring around him when your palms rest on his cheeks. He ducks his head down but you’re the one who closes the distance between. 

You taste like strawberries and lavender, smell like warm cocoa, and feel softer than any sherpa blanket he’s had. Satoru closes his eyes and his vision goes white, his hands shakily snake around your waist, pressing you hard against his chest as if you might disappear at any moment. Satoru sighs into the kiss, it feels pleasantly warm, that throb in his chest, it’s a slow, steady thrum of simmering desire and comfort. He’s pretty sure he’s adding way too much tongue, the drool and saliva that comes dripping between you two will be uncomfortable soon, but for now, it adds to the blissed out, satisfaction you’re both basking in.

Finally, you pull away, shortening yourself a good several inches from planting the rest of your feet on the ground. Your eyes are glossed over, watery and looking at him without vexation. “You’re something else.” You say, but there’s no bite.

Satoru doesn’t speak for a moment. He’s too focused on the feeling of your warm fingers sprawled all over his heating face. Too focused on the dull pulse of both nervousness and infatuation slowly spreading through his body because you’re giving him that look. This all feels romantic and stupid, he thinks.

“I’m sorry, again.” The words are quiet, hesitant, and Satoru almost regrets them the moment he speaks.

You shift around a little, now dancing on the balls of your feet, but the grasp you have on his cheeks is still relatively firm, even applying a bit of more pressure as if it’s your way of showing reassurance. You tip your head; your eyes are so vivid and bright, it sends a shiver down Satoru’s spine. In this moment, he remembers every single thing between them in shocking detail — the awkwardness, the tension, the frustration, the dumb banters, and suddenly he’s overwhelmed.

“I’ll forgive you if you give me a private city tour,” you laugh. “And come back to work with us again next year.”

Satoru offers a small smile. “Unpaid?”

“Will you say no if it is?”

He hugs you tighter, a chuckle bubbles in his throat. “I don’t think I can say no because it’s you.”

Though, while some might think that Satoru is the real loser here for being whipped so hard over a small town girl, you know that deep down the real loser is you. Because you managed to have the son of a CEO wrapped around your fingers and now you will never know peace again. But you’re not really complaining; instead, you’re working even harder to save just enough to eventually see your dream destination while Satoru whines and sends an ungodly amount of selfies everyday when he’s back home. And you won’t allow yourself to get snappy because, well, you’re very much head over heels for him, too.

© 2023 DOOBEA. do not copy any of my writing and translate/repost.

[buckyalpine]

Bucky can’t stand you

Smuttay Smuttay. Imagine Bucky finding you to be the most infuriating person he's ever met in his entire life. He used to strongly believe you should never hit a woman. Being a man from the 40's, he believed that with his entire heart and soul because he was one of the few who hated the way some women were treated by their husbands.

That was until he met you.

God, he was ready to beat your ass.

"Didn't you say you'd never hit a woman" Sam snorted while Bucky's jaw ticked, having complained about you for half an hour straight while you went off the plan completely, taking the mission into your own hands.

"That's not a woman, that's the devil spawn" Bucky said incredulously, watching you make your way to the target with a flirty smirk on your face "How and why is she like this"

"Shut up" you hissed through the coms, your hips swaying as you walked away. "

You pissed him off and you made his cock hard.

You ran your mouth to no end and you made him leak.

You had such an attitude and he'd masturbated d to you more times than he could count.

He hated you.

He hated you so much.

"You're gonna screw this mission up if you keep acting like a desperate whore" Bucky growled as you slinked onto the targets lap, effortlessly pocketing the pen drive from his blazer while skimming your hands all over him. The man was none the wiser, groping your ass, the action making Bucky's blood pressure boil.

You whispered something in his ear before hopping off, throwing a wink over your shoulder before disappearing through the exit of the bar and into the getaway car, signaling to Sam and Bucky that you were successful.

He doesn't breathe a word to you until you were all a the safehouse, glaring at you the entire time while pouring himself a drink.

"Try not to kill each other, I'm going to bed" Sam threw his hands up in defeat, seeing as the both of you would never reach a truce. You shrugged, rolling your eyes at the soldier, making your way to your room instead. Bucky down the dark liquid that burned his throat before following you, his brooding figure brushing your back as you entered your room.

"There a problem Barnes?" You sassed, gasping when he gripped your hair and yanked you back, shoving you against the wall. His metal arm wrapped around your throat, squeezing the sides just enough to make your breaths lighter, his pupils dilated to 100.

"You have a real problem, you know that?" He growled lowly making your stomach flip, your pulse racing a the scent of his cologne when he stood so close to you.

"Yeah? And whats that" your attitude faltered as he pressed his chest against yours, his warm breath fanning on your face.

"You. Never. Listen. It's infuriating. So tell me. What should I do" It took everything in him not to push you down onto your knees, forcing your into submission for once. "You're a brat" He hissed, eyes growing wide when he could smell your arousal which you tried to hide, your thighs squeezing together giving you away.

"Fuck this" Bucky tossed you onto the bed, pulling out the switch blade he had in his pocket. Your dress was sliced off before you could blink, your lingerie torn off next.

"Bucky, what-

Before you could say anything else, he gripped your jaw, squeezing your cheeks together, making you pout with a needy whimper. He gave you a satisfied smirk, running the handle of the knife through your folds, gathering your slick before licking it clean off with a groan.

"M'gonna fuck you and you're gonna take it, then you're gonna thank your Sargent for fucking the brat out of you, understand?"

You nodded, yelping when he smacked your cheek, shaking his head.

"Use your words, kitten"

"Yes, Sargent" You whispered, your heart hammering out of your chest as he started to undress himself, his belt buckle hitting the floor. A new wave of arousal pooled between your legs as he stood naked before you, his cock standing tall and proud. He cocked an eye brow at the way you stared at him, practically drooling as he pumped his length a few times.

He crawled onto the bed, shoving your legs apart, flicking his cock through your folds and slamming into you without warning, making you take all of him at once.

You cried out in pleasure, your arms and legs wrapping around him to ground yourself some how, your cunt fluttering and struggling to accommodate for his girth.

"Buck-Sargent-too-s'too thick" You moaned as he drew his hips back and started to pound into you, snarling with pleasure at the feelings of your nails raking down his back. "SARGENT PLEASE"

"Thats right, beg your Sargent to stop baby, cry when I ruin you with my fat cock" He sat back on his heels, throwing your legs over his shoulders to get even deeper angle, your eyes rolling back until they nearly crossed. "Lookit you going all dumb on my cock baby, such a needy little pussy"

You didn't get a chance to respond, squeaking when he manhandled you till your face was pushed against the mattress with your ass in the air. He spanked your ass raw, shoving his cock back in, setting in a brutal pace.

"Always acting so sassy, making my dick so hard with those stupid skimpy outfits of yours. You're a little slut but you're my slut, understand kitten?"

"Y-Yes-yes-yes-so-good don'on god don't stop" You slurred out, as he rammed into your pussy, the headboard denting the wall with each thrust, slamming your hips back against him.

"That's it. Fucking take it, Nast little slut, sitting in any mans lap, now look at you, huh. Look whose cock you're crying over lil mama, tell me whose cock your all soaked for"

"Yours sargent! all for-you" You panted while his sinful fingers moved to rub your clit, his pace growing sloppy, blinding pleasure starting to consume you both.

"OH FUCKKK I'm gonna cum!!" You cried out, wailing into the sheets, the vulgar sounds of skin on skin carrying through the room. Bucky moaned, fucking you harder, his head thrown back feeling your pussy suck him in deeper.

"Cum, cum on my dick, c'mon baby, give it to me, thats it lil mama, milk my cock-shit-i'm cumming!" Bucky let out a guttural moan feeling you squeeze and pulse around his cock, stilling his hips as he throbbed ropes of his spend into you. You both collapsed onto the bed, blindly reaching for each other with out saying another word, letting soft kisses and cuddles throughout the night do the rest of the talking.

-

"Morning Sam-

"You both owe me money for therapy"

"Sam-

"You shut up before I pawn a piece of that arm"

"Sam-

"You went at it like rabbits"

"Sam-

"I think the bed almost broke into my room"

"Sam-

"I'm never calling you Sargent again, you've tainted the word for me"

"Sam-

"My ears have never been so violated"

Bucky smirked, wrapping his arm around your waist, holding you together. You giggled while Sam gagged in the background again (he 100% approves of you two together but he'll never tell Bucky that).

"Nasty fucks"

[aurorawritestoescape]

LIKE IT’S THE LAST TIME || 900 words

Tw: 18+ minors dni, smut, unprotected piv, public, creampie, belly bulge, gun use.

Part two || Series masterlist

***

“Yeah… shit…yeah…like that.”

Joel’s low growling always turns you on more than any dirty talk ever could. His forehead is sweaty, teeth are mercilessly biting his lower lip as he’s trying not to blow his load into you just yet.

You’re riding his cock in a stuffy car, knees planted on the back seat to help him plunge his length deeper into your hot core. Only the condensation on the windows hides your indecent public behavior, doing a poor job at that as a few passers-by have already done a double take after glancing inside your car.

You don’t care. On days like this one you can’t let go of each other, lips kissing, tongues licking, hands grabbing one another like it’s your last time.

He playfully slaps your ass and you gasp, a little smile dancing on your heated face.

“’m I taking it good, Joel?”

The man hums, the sound muffled as he’s nuzzling a spot between your breasts. The scruff on his cheeks and chin is rubbing your sensitive skin but this little discomfort won’t stop you from chasing your ecstasy. Your pussy feels so good bouncing on his throbbing cock.

Joel moans through the gritted teeth and pride blooms in your heart when this big dangerous man forgets how to speak, forgets about everything, completely lost in the sensations your body is giving him.

You keep riding his length, slowing down and then picking up the pace again. Your hips are tilted back, as his steel member deliciously slides against your soft spot.

His hands spread your ass cheeks, and you feel cold air right at your hole as your slick collects at the base of his shaft. You’re so wet, your juices must be already sliding down his balls.

Joel’s plush lips form an ‘o’ shape, eyes flutter shut and he tilts his head back against the headrest.

“No, no, too soon… need more, Joel, c’mon”, you mumble hastily, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. You slow down trying to prolong the pleasure for the both of you. ‘Will I ever feel him like this again?’

A familiar thorn of fear pangs your heart but you drive it away caressing his lips with yours while you’re holding his face between your shaky palms. You blink your eyes open, so close to him everything is blurry in your gaze but you still take mental pictures of his freckles, his long lashes, his expression, so vulnerable and honest.

You store them deep inside you. For later. In case your luck fails you.

“Lean back, baby… yeah, good girl,” Joel murmurs as his hands push you back making you sit straight on his lap. His head drops down and he watches his cock disappear inside your glistening pussy.

“Fuck,” he growls, fingers digging into your thighs, “d’ya feel my cock? Shit, here it is,” he marvels, pressing his palm to a lump in your lower belly.

“Yeah, you’re so big, Joel,” you whine watching the bulge move up and down under your skin with every rise and fall of your hips.

His fingers find your clit and he rubs it fast with a perfect pressure and then begins vigorously thrusting up into your stretched pussy. Your whimpers turn into a constant whine when his fat tip hits your cervix again and again.

“Give it to me, baby, c’mon,” he encourages you, on the verge of climax himself and you hear it first, half moan-half roar that he always makes when he comes.

You feel his warm seed flood your pussy and the sensation makes your walls flutter, milking his pulsating cock.

You cry out, one hand braced on the window, the other gripping his broad shoulder as the waves of euphoria are hitting you over and over.

When your climax dissipates, you open your eyes and see Joel looking at you, his loving gaze taking in every feature of your face.

“What?” You ask with a shy smile as if you haven’t just stuffed your pussy full of his cum.

“Nothin’. Just lookin’ at you.” He sighs and adds, “We need to go.”

He helps you off his lap and after you both adjust your clothes, he opens the window, sticks his arm out of the car and slaps the roof a couple of times.

In a few seconds Tommy gets in the driver’s seat.

“So fucking long. Every damn time,” he grumbles frowning at Joel and you in the rear view mirror.

“‘s for good luck,” Joel mumbles as Tommy starts the engine.

“Did you at least sneak a peek, Tommy?” You ask giggling but quickly shut up when you see Joel’s stern look.

***

When you arrive at the place, Joel’s big hand on the back of your neck pulls you in for a kiss, desperate and rushed. It’s coated in promises and hopes, desire and love in every stroke of his lips as you clutch his plaid shirt with trembling fingers, kissing him back with everything you’ve got. Like it’s the last time.

Tommy wishes you luck before Joel and you get out of the car.

Right at the entrance Joel shoots you a wink through the balaclava opening and then storms in raising his gun.

As always your pussy tingles when you hear him roar the command,

“Hit the floor! This is a robbery!”

***

Part 2 || Series Masterlist || MASTERLIST

Let me know if you wanna be tagged for the series💖🌸

General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @missannwinchester @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre

[vivwritesfics]

Steal Your Girl - LN4

Carlos is awful to his girl and Lando wants her. He gets what he wants.

THIS IS NOT A REFLECTION OF CARLOS SAINZ AS A REAL PERSON, ALL THESE ACTIONS ARE VRRY OUT OF HIS CHARACTER

18+ ONLY

Warnings: emotionally abusive relationship! smut! eating out, bj, finishing inside, fucking against the wall

Ex! Carlos sainz x reader, lando norris x reader

5.5k

Yes, I changed this up a lot from the original request, but Bianca and I have spoken a lot about this fic and it was decided that having it a friendship rivalry would make this so sweet so I changed Lewis to Carlos

Carlos Sainz walked into the British grand prix, his hand holding his girlfriends. It was warm for England, and he could swear it was getting warmer and warmer every year. Not hot, not compared to what he was used to.

Although he was now a driver for Scuderia Ferrari, he still had friends in other teams. Like Lando and Max. The year before he wouldn’t have minded being on a team with either of them again, driving alongside Lando in Ferrari or Max in a Red Bull.

But now Carlos was in a truly competitive car and, for the first time since his career began, he was a contender for the championship title.

As he looked at his girlfriend, she gave him a smile. Just a small one, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Carlos kept a tight hold of her as he pulled her through the paddock, heading to where he could see the orange hat on the smaller man’s head.

Lando was always his first stop if he could help it. Carlos loved him like a brother, the two of them becoming the best of friends for the short time they were teammates. Everybody in Formula One had their best friend. He had Lando, Logan had Oscar, Charles had… well Charles was a bit of a slut. He had Max and Pierre at his beck and call.

He let go of his girlfriends hand, reaching forward to smack Lando’s butt. Lando jumped out of his skin, spun quickly on his heel and came face to face with his best friend. His look of shock and horror turned into a grin and he wrapped his arms around Carlos, smacking his back as he did so. He looked to Y/N offering her a tight lipped smile.

Being Carlos’s best friend meant Lando got more of an insight into Y/N and Carlos’s relationship. All of the speculations he saw the F1 and WAG news sights posting, he could reveal how true they were. He wouldn’t; that wasn’t his place. If Y/N or Carlos wanted to come out about their relationship, they could. But he wasn’t going to do it for them.

But he felt sorry for her. He saw the way he treated her, how short and angry he was towards her after the race hadn’t gone his way. Lando had stopped himself from running over and getting between them several times. But, once again, it wasn’t his place. As much as he wanted to run over and grab Carlos, keeping Y/N behind him, he knew he couldn’t.

But he wanted to. Don’t get him wrong, he wanted to.

All Lando could do was watch, try and ask if she was okay without actually saying anything. He was observant when it came to her, noticed the way her smile wasn’t too wide.

I guess I should give some context. The year was 2024, and Lando and Carlos were both in the championship fight. It was intense – one week Carlos would be leading in the points and the next Lando would be. As much as it frustrated the both of them, it never affected their friendship.

The summer break was approaching and the two of them were way too close in the points for comfort. It wasn’t like the previous year where Max was practically a shoo in. You never would have guessed by the way they walked through the paddock together, Oscar joining them on Lando’s left.

He was another contender for the championship. It was only his second year in the championship, and he was fighting with the likes of Max, Lando and Carlos. It was insanely impressive, but not unexpected.

“You two got any plans for over summer?” He asked as they stopped outside of the McLaren hospitality suite.

As much as Carlos was happy to finally be in the competitive car, he still missed McLaren. As much as he loved driving alongside Charles Leclerc, he missed driving alongside Lando. But he loved fighting him on track.

Carlos wrapped his arms around Y/N, pulling her in close. “We are staying in Italy,” he said and kissed the side of her head. The smile Y/N shot in Oscar’s direction wasn’t a happy one. Her shoulders were hunched as she tried to make herself look small, her smile barely there and her eyes not meeting his. Whatever they were doing over the summer, she clearly wasn’t happy about it.

They went their separate ways, Y/N and Carlos heading off to Ferrari while Lando and Oscar headed into the hospitality suite. “Is she okay?” Oscar asked as he walked slightly behind Lando.

It was no secret how Lando felt about Y/N. It was no secret that he liked her. There had been one time where Oscar had physically held Lando back after Carlos had crashed earlier in the day and seemed to be verbally taking it out on Y/N.

Lando couldn’t answer. Because he really didn’t know. He didn’t know if she was okay, and he had a feeling he wouldn’t find out. He steadied himself and led Oscar into the hospitality suite.

***

It wasn’t a good race for Carlos. Y/N watched from the garage as he made contact with the Mercedes of George Russell and spun out into the gravel. “Ah fuck!” He shouted. “Fucking fuck!” He hit the steering wheel and pulled it out of the car, handing it to the steward that came running over. He climbed out of the car, keeping his helmet on as he made his way back to the pitlane.

As soon as Carlos sorted himself out, Y/N threw her arms around him. “I’m sorry, baby,” she whispered and kissed his cheek. Carlos didn’t respond. He just stared at the track at nineteen cars came speeding past the pitlane.

After the race and the ceremonies, when they were heading back to the plane, Carlos drove them. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel as he sped around cars, at a pace that was, quite frankly, terrifying to his passengers. “Carlos, baby,” she tried to say as she held onto the bottom of her seat.

But Carlos didn’t let her say anything. “Shut the fuck up,” he growled.

Y/N fell silent. If they weren’t driving down the motorway she would have demanded he let her out of the car, but she couldn’t. She just sat there, the familiar feeling of anxiety bubbling up inside of her chest.

If this was how she was going to be feeling for the rest of the championship, Y/N wasn’t sure she wanted to be a part of this world. She loved Carlos and she loved travelling around with him, but it made her feel fucking terrible. He made her feel fucking terrible.

These feelings didn’t stop through the Hungarian Grand Prix or through Spa. They were miserable weekends for the girl sat in the Ferrari garage. In both races Carlos did well, which you may think  would mean he was happy. You’d think he’d be in a good mood and happily showing his girlfriend how much he loved her.

But for both races, a younger, less experienced driver beat him. In cars that seemed to be equal in terms of how competitive they were, Lando Norris beat him.

Although Carlos got a good amount of points from it, Lando had beat him, putting a bit more distance between them in the championship.

It made him vile to be around. The points, the championship, consumed his very being. Not in the way it did for most Formula One drivers, where their goal for every training session, every practice session, every qualifying and every race was to be the best. Carlos was a man obsessed it muttered about it, going back through past races to see if there were any way to take points away from his competitors.

He became snappy and rude to his girlfriend. She couldn’t even say his name without him sending a glare in her direction. Y/N was walking on eggshells around him.

It wasn’t as though she could avoid him. Carlos wanted her at every race weekend; her only respite was the few days she got to spend at her apartment.

During summer break, Carlos gave her a break from himself. He wasn’t crazy obsessive over points as they went to Italy. But that feeling of Anxiety was still in Y/N’s chest. Even as he took her out on the boat, she was still anxious.

When Carlos kissed her, she kept her eyes shut, unable to look at him. His touch was warm, but it still made her shiver. If he knew something was wrong, he didn’t say anything to her.

It was a sign, surely. A sign that she should have left him. But, no matter how anxious she felt around him, there was still a part of her that loved him. She always would love him, at least in some capacity.

Y/N pushed the feelings deep down. She loved him, she really, truly loved him, and she could get through this. They could get through this. As soon as the championship was over, things would go back to normal, she was sure of it.

As if to assure herself, Y/N walked over to Carlos, who had sat himself on the sun lounger in front of the pool, and wrapped her arms around him. She kissed the side of his head and closed her eyes as she pressed her forehead against his shoulder.

After their amazing summer break, Y/N thought maybe things would change between them. Maybe she’d get the old Carlos back, her Carlos back.

Spoiler alert, it didn’t work. Even though Carlos finished ahead of Lando at the Dutch Grand Prix, they still hadn’t quite come level with the points. Lando was still ahead of him and it was all Carlos could think about, all he could talk about.

The drivers went out that night. Well, a few of them did. Max took Lando, Charles, Carlos, George and Daniel out for the night. Everybody was invited to the club, but these were the few that went.

Of course, Y/N went with Carlos. Even with everything going on, she still didn’t want to head home alone. So, she dressed her best and walked into the club on Carlos’s arm.

Lando walked in behind them. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her, and that little voice in the back of his head that usually told him that she was his best friend’s girl and he should stay away was suddenly quieter. Maybe it was because of the few drinks he had in his system already, but Lando wasn’t scared about Carlos seeing his lingering eyes.

But Carlos didn’t seem to notice. Maybe he thought Lando was being a good friend and keeping an eye on Y/N, who was definitely stunning enough to turn heads.

For the entire night, Lando stayed close to Y/N. He was behind them when she and Carlos danced together, followed her to the bar and got another round of drinks. And, when Carlos disappeared and Y/N found herself sitting alone in one of the booths in the club, Lando came to sit beside her.

“Hey,” he shouted over the music.

Y/N stared at him, clearly not happy. But she gave him a weak smile, leaning against the table in front of them. “You okay?” He shouted, furrowing his brows. Y/N shouted something back, but Lando couldn’t hear a word of it.

Standing up, he walked over and slid into the seat beside her. “You okay?” He asked and placed his arm over her shoulders. The drink must have been making him brave.

Y/N shook her head. “I want to go outside!” She shouted into his ear.

Standing up, Lando helped her. He shot Carlos a quick text and led Y/N to the smoking shelter outside of the club. Neither of them smoked, but they needed the fresh air, desperately. The smoking area was busy, but not as loud as the club; they could speak without much issue.

"What's up?" Asked Lando as he leaned against the wall.

Y/N looked at him and let out a huff. She folded her arms over her chest and looked up at the stars in the night sky. "I'm hoping you're drunk enough to forget this, but Carlos treats me like shit," she said and turned her attention towards him.

"I know."

Lando hadn't meant to say it, but it was too late to backpeddle now.

"And I fucking hate it," he finished.

Silence hung in the air between them. Y/N didn't quite know what to say. She was speaking to Carlos's best friend and she didn't want to slate him.

And Lando, well he was waiting for Y/N to say something. He didn't want to push and then have to deal with Carlos why she was crying. That wouldn't end well for anyone.

I think you should leave your boyfriend.

But he couldn't say that. It was a decision Y/N had to come to all on her own.

And she did. Just not for a while. Not until the end of the 2024 championship.

It was down to the wire, the deciding race for the drivers championship being the very last race of the season.

As Y/N sat in the ferrari garage she bit her nails, nerves bubbling up inside of her. It wasn't nerves over her boyfriend winning or losing. Well, it was, but more because of what he might've done to her.

Lando was the championship winner. Lando crossed the finish line less than a second ahead of Carlos.

As they climbed out of the cars and congratulated each other, it was clear Carlos was pissed. As he stood on the podium and listened to the British national anthem, he was angry, that much was clear.

Y/N could have left him then and there, but she didn't want to. There was a small part of her that loved Carlos and that didn't want to leave him.

But, after they had headed home that night, after skipping out on Landos offer of celebrating, Carlos was fucking horrible to her.

Never physical, just angry and verbally abusive. He roared at her, spitting in her face as he did so.

Y/N got up and left him then and there. She walked out of the door, not looking back.

There was a lot of speculation online on the couples break up. The news of it only came when Carlos was seen with a new woman, having moved on pretty quickly. Y/N just hoped this girl could handle him better than she could.

When the 2025 season started up, she missed it. But she couldn't even bring herself to watch it on the television.

She missed it, and she was missed.

By Lando, mostly. Although she'd made some friends from her time on the grid, it was Lando who missed her the most. He'd been the one to call her up and make sure she was okay when he found out about the breakup.

Ever since the 2025 season started, Lando had been desperately trying to get her to come to a grand prix. But Y/N shot him down every time. How could she go to a grand prix and face Carlos?

She couldn’t. As much as she would have loved to go to at least one Grand Prix, she couldn’t face Carlos. So, Lando had to find other ways to see her. He was the one who came to her apartment and spent time with her while she was having an emotional breakdown over Carlos. He was the one who brought her snacks and comfort her, watching movies and attempting to make her dinner.

In this time she and Lando became incredibly close. It didn’t feel right, the way she was relying on him for emotional comfort when he was her ex boyfriends best friend. At first, Y/N was scared Lando would just be a rebound, that she was feeling the way she did because she was upset about the breakup.

But, as time went on, she realised it was a lot more than that. She genuinely loved Lando’s company and she wanted to spend time around him. That didn’t mean she’d be going to a grand prix, though.

So, Y/N threw herself into her work. When she’d bought her apartment, she’d been with Carlos, and it was filled with memories of the two of them. She worked oh so hard to make it her own, erasing every memory of him from its walls.

On the few days before the British Grand Prix, Lando was in the UK. He was in Surrey, at McLaren before heading off to London. What was in London? Just the girl he was in love with.

Okay, maybe in love was a strong word. But everybody knew how he felt about her, knew how much he wanted her.

So, he hopped on a train to London (because there was no way he was driving through the city) and made his way to her apartment.

This was the first Grand Prix that he hadn’t been bothering her to attend. It was strange and, in and odd way, it made Y/N want to go all the more. It was too late now, though. She’d never get tickets she could actually afford.

There was a knock at her apartment door. Y/N stood up from her computer and strode over. She pulled open the door, coming face to face with none other than Lando Norris. “Lando,” she somewhat gasped, incredibly surprised to see him. “Aren’t you meant to be at Silverstone?”

“That’s exactly why I’m here,” he said and walked into the apartment. He took a seat at her kitchen table as she got him something to drink. “I want you to come to the grand prix with me,” he said. He’d said it so many times already this year. Maybe the answer would be different now he was here in person.

Y/N let out a huff and Lando knew what was coming. She was going to shoot him down, to say no and send him on his way. But she didn’t. She sat back and stared at him, tapping her nails against the glass of water in front of her. “Okay,” she said and sat up a little straighter. “But I have conditions.”

Lando gestured for her to go on.

“I’ll go if you can guarantee I won’t see Carlos.”

It was an impossible request, but Lando just grinned. He held out his hand for her to shake. “Deal.”

***

It was Lando’s second win at Silverstone, and the home crowd was going wild. Y/N was with the McLaren team. When Lando pulled into Parc fermé, Y/N was waiting at the barrier. She watched as he jumped towards his team, all of them patting him on the back.

And then she caught his eye. Lando pulled off his helmet, placing it on the ground and strode over to her. “Congratulations!” Y/N shouted over the noise with a wide grin.

But Lando didn’t respond. He pulled her close, just the barrier between them, and kissed her.

It was quick, Lando didn’t have long until he was pulled away to do post-race interviews. And then he was on the podium as Y/N waited back in the garage. What had just happened? Lando had won his home Grand Prix but, more importantly, he kissed her. Lando Norris had kissed her.

And she hadn’t minded. Did that make her a bad person? That she didn’t mind kissing her ex boyfriends best friend? Well, more than didn’t mind. She liked it, and she wanted to do it again.

Carlos hadn’t quite believed what he was seeing when he climbed out of his Ferrari, having just missed out on third place. He was in a foul mood anyway from his result, and this certainly didn’t make things better.

There was a feeling of betrayal that settled in his chest. He was ready to tear apart the Ferrari garage and not care about the consequences.

If she couldn’t be with him because of his racing career, what the fuck was she doing here? With him of all people?

He stormed past everybody, his body language aggressive.

But Lando and Y/N didn’t notice. Why should they? Lando was wrapped up in his win and she was wrapped up in him. In Lando.

After the race Lando drove her back to her apartment. She invited him in, cooked him dinner, which they ate with a couple of candles between them. It was romantic, and they were loving every second of it. It wasn’t what Lando had planned for his win; he was supposed to go out to dinner and party. But he’d told those who were set to come with him to go without him, and this was definitely better.

“I want to ask you to be mine, but I don’t want to push you,” Lando had said as they ate.

Y/N immediately shook her head. She reached over, placing her hand on top of Lando’s. “I wouldn’t have invited you in if I didn’t want this,” she said and let go of him.

They didn’t sleep together that night; Lando kept up with the whole not wanting to push her thing. He didn’t want to push her into sleeping with him and then have her regret it later. So, he took things slow, letting her make the first moved.

It didn’t take long for them to get together, Lando as her boyfriend and Y/N as his girlfriend. But it took a long while before she returned to a grand prix with him. Sure, the world had seen them kiss in Silverstone, but Y/N still needed time. She needed to mentally prepare herself for facing Carlos and the rest of the grid again.

It was towards the end of the season that Y/N went to the next grand prix. She joined him in Brazil, proudly walking through the paddock with her hand held in his. When the cameras started flashing, Lando leaned close and kissed the top of her head. That way there would be no doubts as to who they were to each other.

Lando didn’t win in Brazil. But he didn’t care – his girlfriend was there with him and that was all that mattered. She watched him stand third place on the podium, watched him spray champagne on Carlos and his teammate.

When Y/N hadn’t been keeping up with the sport, before she and Lando were together, she hadn’t realised just how close the title fight was this year. She didn’t realise that the Red Bull car was, essentially, a piece of shit, and that the only real contenders for the title was Lando, Charles and Carlos.

She and Lando made their way out of the circuit together, hand in hand. “Well done,” she said and reached up onto her tiptoes to kiss him. Lando kept her walking as she stole his hat and placed it on her own head. “I love watching you race.”

“I love it when you watch me race,” he replied, squeezing her hand.

Ahead of them was Carlos and his girlfriend. Since she hadn’t been keeping up with the world of Formula One, Y/N didn’t know her name. But she was pretty and, if they were happy, then good for them.

Even though he had won the race, Carlos’s body language was tense. Y/N knew him well enough to know that. She didn’t say anything, though, not when he definitely hated her.

It took a few hours for anything to actually come from this. Both couples had decided that they would stay for the night in Brazil, get a good sleep before heading home. They were staying in the same hotel, rooms relatively close to each other.

That was why, when they were away from the prying eyes of fans of the paparazzi cameras, Carlos took a swing at Lando.

It was sudden and terrifying, both girls stood back in shock. Because, really, what could they do? Try and attack two athletes who were definitely stronger than them?

But then a full of fight broke out. They were punching and trying to tackle each other to the floor. Carlos had his arm around Lando’s neck as he punched him, Lando trying his best to get away.

But he was struggling, his face red. That was when Y/N jumped onto Carlos’s back trying to get him away from Lando. When Lando finally got away, Carlos got Y/N off of his back, knocking her to the floor.

Immediately, Lando got Y/N to her feet. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He spat at his old friend, holding his girlfriend close.

Carlos didn’t answer as he walked off to his own room, his girlfriend following him.

There was a moment where Y/N and Lando didn’t go anywhere. They put some distance between themselves and the Spaniard. Both their hearts were beating erratically, Lando’s breath coming out short.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N mumbled as they started walking again. “I can’t believe he did that.”

Lando held her a little bit tighter. “You don’t have to apologise,” he said as he pulled out their room key. “He’s being an asshole.”

Things only got worse between them as the title fight heated up. Just as it did the year before, it took the right to the end of the season, with tension between Lando and Carlos becoming worse and worse. The media speculated as they watched the two interact, most of the speculations having something to do with Y/N. They were right; the title fight was just a small part of it now.

***

Abu Dhabi, 2025. Carlos was leading for most of the race and looked set for the win. It would have been his first championship win, a dream of any Formula One driver.

But Lando? He was tricky, and he was fuelled by more than a desire to win. Just as Carlos thought himself set for the win, Lando overtook him. Carlos didn’t see it at first, he had already begun waving to the crowds as the orange car crossed the finish line just half a second ahead of him.

Y/N let out a scream in the McLaren garage. The atmosphere was insane, much different to the atmosphere in the Ferrari garage from the year before. Everybody was jumping around and cheering, rushing out to meet Lando.

When he climbed out of his car he jumped at his team, screaming, shouting and crying.

Just as he did in Silverstone, he pulled off his helmet and placed it down by his feet, leaning down to kiss Y/N. This time he didn’t care about the post-race interviews, he kissed her until he was starving for air. It wasn’t sweet of kind, it was definitely too much for the cameras. It was a promise for later, for what was to come.

That night they celebrated, the team out partying. Y/N and Lando left the party before everybody else, alcohol in their systems as they made their way back to their hotel room.

The two were giggling, drunken messes, kissing on the street every few steps. He kept a tight hold of her, hand just a little too low on her back, but not quite obscene.

In the elevator of the hotel, Y/N was pressed against it, with Lando finally holding her ass. He kissed her feverishly, his kiss bruising.

And she loved every second of it.

Lando was impatient to get her into their hotel room. He kicked the door shut behind them and began pulling off her clothes, only breaking their kiss when he pulled her shirt over her head.

"I fucking love you," he said and began kissing down her neck.

She let out a moan, eyes flying shut as she unbuttoned Lando's shirt.

When they pulled apart to undress themselves, Lando looked at the purple bruises he'd left on her neck, grinning as his tongue came between his lips.

He wasted no time in throwing her down onto the bed, her arms wrapping around him as he went back to kissing her.

He began moving down her body, kissing her chest and between her breasts, moving down to where she needed him most. Her breathing became laboured as he kissed her thigh and gently bit it, his manner teasing.

His large hands rested on her hips as he leaned down, licking across her folds. He sank off of the bed, pulling her closer as he began eating her out. Like a man possessed and licked and sucked at her folds, his skills expert.

Y/N moaned and whined, gripped his hair as he held her still. She tried to move her hips against his face, but Lando held her still, keeping her there as he worked. "Holy fuck," she cried, throwing her head back and gripping the sheets.

Lando grinned as he sat up, painfully hard. Y/N grabbed him, pulling him back up to kiss her. "I want you to fuck me against the wall," she whispered as she moved to kiss down his neck.

The chain he wore dangled between them, getting in her way, but Y/N didn't care. It was incredibly hot.

Lando whispered something in her ear and Y/N nodded eagerly. He set his phone up across from the wall he was going to be fucking her against, and pressed record.

Suddenly Lando was up against the wall, Y/N on her knees in front of him. He moaned as she bobbed her head up and down him. His hand rested on the back of her head, not pushing, just holding her as if he wanted to ground himself.

Before too long Lando was pushing her way. If he was going to celebrate his championship win, he was going to do it inside of her.

"Come here, baby," he said as he gave her one last kiss. He picked her up, Y/N wrapping her legs around him, and turned them around, so that her back was against the wall.

Using the wall to keep her held in his arms, Lando reached between them and lined himself up. He pushed forward, sheathing himself inside of her.

"Ready?" He asked, forehead pressed against hers.

Y/N nodded and Lando began thrusting. It was incredible how strong he was as he pushed into her, pulling himself out and pushing back in.

Y/N let out cries and whines and moans as he fucked her. Because it wasn't romantic, the pace Lando was thrusting inside of her was animalistic.

She moved against the wall, eyes shut as she tightened her legs around Lando, coming closer and closer to the edge. Lando was, too, slowing his pace, becoming sloppy.

When Y/N finally went over the edge she fell forward, leaning her entire weight against him. Lando kissed her head and squeezed his eyes shut as he came, painting her insides with his seed.

He pulled out and carried her back to the bed. Picking up the phone he pointed the camera at Y/N, keeping her on full display. "She's my girl now," he said and ended the video, sending it to the man who was once his best friend.

Lando went to the bathroom and ran the bath. He made it warm and filled it with bubbles. As he waited for it, watched the video go through to Carlos, watched as he opened the message.

He turned off the water and walked back out to the bedroom, where his girlfriend was still laying, her breath evening out. She was close to falling asleep, he realised as he walked over and kissed her forehead.

"Come on, baby," he said and gently coaxed her up from the bed.

Rather reluctantly, Y/N followed Lando into the bathroom. She leaned against the door as he climbed into the water, waited until he was submerged, and slotted herself between his legs.

Lando gently washed her, scrubbing the sweat from her skin and the mess between her legs.

***

Carlos wasn't sure when his girlfriend had left. It was just like last time, alone again after missing out on the championship. It was his fault, even if he didn't know it.

When his phone buzzed he picked it up, desperately hoping that maybe he wasn't so alone.

But then he saw the message, then he opened the video.

His face twisted with rage. He threw his phone across the room, the device bouncing of the wall, the screen completely shattered.

He was going to kill Lando Norris.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

try on

words: 1.7k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, male receiving oral, public, blowjob, car head (but hes not driving)

“what the fuck is this flimsy shit?” rafes fingers feel the material of the changing room curtain after he hung the clothes up that you've been piling up in his arms while you flitted around the store.

“i know, i wish they had a door.” you say with a roll of your eye. you set your bag and phone down on the stool before turning to rafe. “thanks baby, you can sit down.” you gesture towards the couches in the fitting rooms, already a couple other boyfriends lounging around.

“alright…” rafe eyes the curtain wearily before cupping your jaw, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

when he sits down, rafe makes sure to plop down on a cushion that allows him an easy line of sight to your changing room. you are blissfully unaware of rafes displeasure as you changing into the first dress, finding it a little too tight but still deciding to step out and show rafe.

“what do you think?” you walk between the couches, not noticing the eyes of the other men also looking at you. you assume since rafe would never even glance at another girl that the other boyfriends would give you anything more than a quick look.

you twirl around so rafe can see the back of the dress. “i think it's a little too tight around my ass, do you like it though?”

“shit, baby.” rafe groans, standing up and frowning at the men who quickly look away as he puts his hands on your hips, pushing you back towards your changing room.

“what is it rafe?” you whine, almost tripping over as he moves you back into the small room.

“they were all staring at you baby!” he grunts out.

“okay?” you cross your arms, pushing your chest up even more in the low cut dress, almost breaking rafes attention. “why do you care anyone else looks at me? you know im yours.”

“because, men are fucking creeps.” rafe says. “and you look really fucking hot in this dress, but yeah it's too tight.”

“okay.” you nod, rubbing your hands over rafes shoulders. “let me try on my next dress, yeah?” hoping your soft tone calms him down.

“fine.” rafe huffs, accepting your kiss as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing your body against his as rafes hand moves down from your waist to grip your bum.

“be out in a minute.” you step away, smirking at rafe as you pull the curtain closed. rafe cautiously takes his seat again, eyeing the men who suddenly all have their eyes casted down.

rafe glares as one of the guys stands up to head back into the main section of the store, and rafe swears that he tries to peak past the edge of your curtain, his head turning just enough when passing your dressing room that rafe shoots to his feet.

“rafey, is that you baby?” you call when a shadow darkens your curtain, hands coming to hold either edge to the wall, keeping it taut.

“it’s okay, just change.” rafe grunts.

“i’m in my next dress, do you wanna see?” you call.

rafe tugs the curtain open just enough for him to step inside. “i love it. we’re getting it.” rafe says, taking the clothes that you haven’t tried on yet off the hook, hanging them over his arm. “we’re getting all of them.” “but i haven’t tried them on yet.” you pout.

“you can give me a personal try on fashion show at home baby, lets just go.” rafe leans to pick up the clothes you came in in off the seat, pressing them into your hands.

“okay, okay.” you sigh, taking the dress off under rafes watchful eye before redressing, adding the dress to the heap of clothing in his arms. “whats got you so worked up?”

“just wanna get home.” rafe says, tired of being on guard, needing to just be at peace with you in his arms, no other man around.

“okay, baby.” you coo, wrapping your arm around rafes bicep as he carries the clothes out of the changing area and towards the register.

rafe doesn’t make a big deal of paying, he never does, loving to spoil you, especially when most of the clothes you buy you wear for him.

he takes the bags of clothing before you can even reach for them, his hand coming to the small of your back as he leads you out of the shopping mall, towards the parking lot.

“rafey, slow down.” you complain as he hustles through the car park. “my legs aren’t as long as yours.” “sorry, sorry.” rafe slows his pace, glad his truck is within sight. he helps you into the passenger seat once you get there before throwing the bags into the back seat, rounding the hood with eyes on constant alert still, unable to relax yet.

“thanks for shopping with me.” you say as rafe climbs in, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek, seeing his jaw unclench and shoulders drop a little. 

rafe turns his head to give you a proper kiss as his hands fumble with the keys before starting the car, giving you another peck before turning towards the road, backing out of the spot and navigating the large truck through the parking lot.

“pull over here.” you point to an empty lot, in front of a store that closed down a while ago.

“why?” rafe questions, a slight hint of annoyance in his voice, wanting to get you home alone as soon as possible.

“just do it.” you hum, a teasing smile on your face as you unbuckle and then lean over, pushing the folded down center console out of the way as you rub your hand over the front of rafes pants the second the car is shifted into park.

“baby-” rafe groans, his head falling back against the headrest.

“wanna thank you for buying those clothes for me.” you say, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you undo his pants button before tugging the zipper down, pulling the two sides of his pants open to reveal his boxers.

you press your lips against the fabric of his underwear, feeling his cock thicken as you kiss along his length, the zipper pressing against your chin, but you ignore it in favor of pressing your tongue to wet the fabric even further.

“fuck, baby.” rafe groans, hands coming to his hips as he tugs his pants and underwear down, not caring that anyone could drive into the parking lot and see what is going on. his truck is tall enough with tinted windows that he isn't worried.

“mmm, so hard and big for me.” you coo, placing your hand on the base of his cock, giving it a few strokes as you watch in fascination as a big of precum leaks out of his tip.

you lean forward, tongue sneaking out as you lap over the head of his cock, tongue slithering over the slit.

rafes hand comes to the back of your head, pushing you down. you barely cover your teeth in time as your mouth opens, letting him push you down until your lips reach where your hand is wrapped around his length.

“good girl, that's it.” rafe purrs out, his voice deep and sultry as you suck, tongue rubbing along his cock as you begin to move your head, pulling off his cock slightly before pressing back down.

you moan around rafes length, loving how stretched your cheeks have to get, how deep down he reaches your throat as you bob your head, his hand still resting against your curls, providing a slight amount of pressure to encourage you to continue.

“wish those dicks in the store could see you. instead of staring at your ass they could stare at you sucking me.” rafes frustration is clear in his voice, and despite his dick in your mouth, you roll your eyes as you continue to move, knowing it's ridiculous that he cares so much when you only have eyes for rafe.

you pull off his dick with a plop, immediately beginning to stroke your hand. “no need to be jealous baby.” 

“im not jealous.” rafe grunts as your thumb swipes over the head of his cock. “just annoyed that they think they can look at what's mine.”

you go to respond when rafe pushes your head back down, other hand coming to hold you as well as he begins to thrust his hips up, your hand having to come to his thigh to stabilize yourself as he fucks your mouth, his hips moving up and down off the seat to plunge deep down your throat.

you are used to taking him, but not in his position as you gag slightly, but the noises just spur rafe on as he moves faster.

“such a nice warm mouth for me baby.” rafe says, panting as his arms continue to work you up and down. “such a tight throat.”

you swallow around his cock at the praise, tightening the walls of your throat even further around his dick as rafes hips thrust up.

“so close.” he warns, breath quickening as his cock pushes in and out of your mouth quickly before he lifts up, shoving your head as far down as he can, nose nuzzling into his skin as he cums, releasing deep down your throat as he moans.

you swallow obediently as rafe slumps back down. you pull off slowly, pressing gentle kisses along his length as he softens before sitting up, patting at your chin to fix your ruined makeup as rafe tucks himself back into his pants.

“thank you for taking me shopping rafey, can't wait to try all the new clothes on.” you coo, pressing a kiss to his cheek before sliding back over to your seat, doing your seat belt as if nothing happened.

“can't wait to fuck you in your new clothes when we get home.” rafe says, clearing his throat as he shakes his head, trying to get back in the right mindset to drive home.

“mhm, after i try everything on though.” you clarify.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0

[jamminvroomvroom]

ruined.

LN x fem!reader - 4k celebration

based on this request!

in which, why wouldn’t they fall in love?

back with another celebration request! thank u anon, love this one sm! so tempted to make something longer form outta this one omg... lemme know what you think of this, hugs hugs hugs

i had to reupload this! sorry if you already interacted :(

songs to set the mood: let’s fall in love for the night by finneas, you are in love by taylor swift, sofia by clairo, till forever falls apart by ashe and finneas

warnings: 18+!! minors go away dni!! smut, fluff, swearing, alcohol consumption, voyeurism? kinda? friends to lovers, mutual pining

3.4k words

“i bring gifts!” you call out, throwing the keys on the side. you shuffle your feet against the doormat, awkwardly balancing the bottle of wine you hold in one hand and the box of pizza in the other. it doesn’t help that you feel like the michelin man, bundled up in a jacket and a scarf. you kick off your boots, leaving them haphazardly in the hallway.

“in the kitchen.” lando shouts back, and you trudge towards the sound of his voice, sliding around in your fluffy socks.

“i hate all of those stupid little cars that everyone in monaco seems to drive.” you tut, sliding the pizza box across the counter, the bottle of wine clinking against the granite.

“even my jolly?” lando pouts. he’s waiting with two wine glasses, even though you’ll drink most of the merlot while he scrunches his nose up in distaste, but this is routine, standard procedure.

“i do miss the jolly, to be fair.” you give him that much, grinning playfully.

five minutes later, your coat and scarf are long forgotten, slung over one of the high chairs that line his breakfast bar. you’re in the living room, sprawled on one end of the couch, him on the other. your feet rest in his lap and the pizza box rests across your knees. some series you’ve been trying to watch for weeks is playing on netflix, but you aren’t really paying much attention.

“so, you’re telling me,” you pause to take another bite of pizza, swallowing between giggles, “you’re telling me that you heard oscar through the wall?” you choke.

“yeah, i’m telling you! little oscar is definitely not… little, from what i heard.” he cackles. “and then afterwards, bless them, they were all dishevelled and he would not make eye contact with me.” lando explains, both of you a mess of giggles.

“oscar piastri, what a minx.” you shake your head in disbelief.

“as if that’s what i needed, by the way! the dry spell was not helped by whatever him and lily were getting at.”

“dry spell? you? don’t lie to me, norris.” you kick him gently.

“what? i’m serious! start of the season has been so busy, haven’t had time to… get busy.” he wiggles his eyebrows and you roll your eyes.

“welcome to my world, you prick.” you tease, kicking him again. you catch his ribs as you do, knowing full well you’ve hit the prime tickle spot.

“what’s your excuse?”

“excuse you, i’m a busy gal! we can’t all be famous jet-setting f1 drivers.” you feign offence, and he grins toothily.

“i meant,” he starts, speaking slowly as if you’re stupid, and for a third time, you kick him, a tad harder than the last two times. “you’re a catch, how are you not getting laid?”

you pray he can’t see the way you’ve gone pink.

truthfully, he’s the damn reason. how can any man live up to the one and only lando norris? how can anyone compare to your best friend? world famous, beautiful, down right hilarious, beautiful!

lando’s the guy that picks up the pieces every time some loser breaks your heart. he’s the guy who’s key you keep on your overflowing keychain, the guy who buys duplicates of the skincare products you use, so you can keep them at his place - you still laugh every time you remember the first time he tried to pronounce salicylic acid. he’s basically your guy, but after 10 years of friendship, you’re not willing to tell him that.

“just… not.” you shrug, tucking your hair behind your ear. he hums in response, sounds like he doesn’t believe you, but he drops it.

you sink three glasses of red, the pizza box is on the floor, and your eyes are drooping, heavy.

“bedtime for you, methinks.” lando whispers, gently shifting your feet from his lap. you frown, missing his touch already. you make grabby hands at him, too comfy to move on your own. “want me to carry you?” you nod lazily, a smile stretching across your face.

he slides one hand under your legs, the other under your back, and hoists you up. he holds you close to his chest, your head resting against his heart, so close that you can hear the soft thrum that keeps him warm.

“thank you.” you murmur as he places you softly on your- his guest bed.

“anytime, honey.” he smiles down at you. he thinks you’re so pretty like this, so sleepy and cosy. he fights the demons that tell him to crawl into the empty space beside you. “there’s some water here, sleep well, love.” he walks away, reaching the door when:

“love you.” you coo. he shivers. you always say it, and he always says it back, but lately, it pains him.

“yeah. love you too.”

lando pulls the door to quietly, leaning against the wood for a moment trying to compose himself.

-

it’s been an hour, and you’re sobered up, wide awake in the dark.

you try to fall asleep, really, you do, but your mind is moving a thousands miles an hour, and all you can think about is his dry spell. your dry spell.

how can you sleep when you know he’s on the other side of the wall, as needy as you are for a warm body. you also know that you’ve soaked through your underwear. you’re wildly uncomfortable, restless, desperate for a sweet release, whether that be of sleep, or something else.

you can’t ask him, it would be a step too far, despite how torturously close you already are. so instead, you drive yourself insane with the thought of him; the image of him, head thrown back, slick and sweaty, cock hard in his hand.

what’s the harm in helping yourself out?

you’re throbbing, hot all over. you lose the war with yourself and your hand trails shamelessly down your body. you’re so sensitive that you’re instantly stifling moans, hand slapped over your mouth. you can’t get the earlier image out of your head, and you pray he’s on the other side of the wall thinking about you. you’re desperate, bucking your hips into your hand, aching for a release. you wish your hands were lando’s, big and rough, toying with every quivering part of you.

you have an idea, a twisted one, the kind that almost sends you over the edge. what would happen if you let yourself be as loud as you wanted, if you tore your hand away and cried out like you wanted to? every shred of rationality leaves your needy body.

you’re whining, clear as day. your resist calling out his name as your high builds, tweaking your clit between your fingers. you’re so dangerously close, hovering right on the edge. that’s when you hear it.

on the other side of the wall, your vision of lando has become a reality. your faint whines through the wall have him rock hard, fucking his own hand. he wishes it could be yours, and with the way you’re crying out, he doesn’t think you’d oblige to sitting on his lap, wet and pretty, and letting him sink his cock nice and deep.

but he can’t cross that line. not with you. it doesn’t matter how badly he wants you, how he’d go to the ends of the earth for you. one night wasn’t worth ten years of friendship, washed down the drain.

his hand speeds up, his head thrown back, at the same time as you slip two fingers inside of yourself. you fingers curl, hitting deep when you hear a throaty groan sounding from the other side of the wall.

you’d think a millionaire would have thicker walls.

he hears the exact moment you cum, a noticeable change in your sounds. they’ve gone up an octave, breathless, and before he can even register, he’s spurting thick white ribbons that land hotly on his skin.

you clean yourselves up, rooms apart but the same exact things running through your minds.

i just got off to the sound of my best friend.

-

you nibble the crusts of your toast. the kitchen is quiet, painfully so, and the air is still.

lando has his back to you, making you another cup of coffee. he’s forgone a shirt and you try your absolute best to ignore the warm glow of his skin. he looks radiant. you know why; orgasms can do that.

“lando-“

“we don’t need to talk about it, honey.”

“um, i was just gonna tell you that you’re burning your toast.” you snicker.

“oh, fuck.” he slides along the floor to the toaster, burning his fingers on blackened bread.

when he turns to you, he’s tinged red, grinning bashfully.

“moving on.”

“i need to get home but dinner later? i won’t stay the night.” you wink. you crave the normalcy that once was, the light, teasing nature of your friendship.

“i’ll cook.” he’s still blushing.

“ooh, on second thought.” you suck air through your teeth, pulling a face.

“get outta here.” he sticks his tongue out at you.

-

dinner was… well, it was edible.

he made spaghetti and some kind of sauce, one that you couldn’t quite work out the contents of but it was good enough.

“thanks, lan.” you smile softly, helping him clear the few plates off the table.

“anytime, honey.” he replies.

you’re standing at the sink, placing the cutlery down when you feel him behind you. you spin around, instantly regretting it, because you’re caged in. he’s leaning up to reach into a cupboard, frozen. so, so close. his panicked breath fans your face and you can feel the heat of his body.

you lean in, because why wouldn’t you? and so does he, so, so close. your hand that rests on the edge of the sinks moves so that you can reach out and cup his disgustingly perfect face but then-

a knife that had been hovering between the counter and plunging into the soapy hot water gets nudged over the edge by your clumsy hand and clatters against into the bowl.

the irritating noise springs you both back to reality and he jumps away like an orange cat. you grimace at the awkward tension, and he scratches the back of his neck. and then you’re laughing, hard, and of course he joins in because this situation is utterly ridiculous and your laugh is so beautifully contagious.

“oh my god, what is wrong with us?” you wheeze through the laughter, leaning back against the counter.

“last night was… insane. and now everything feels weird so, let’s just go back to basics.” lando smiles gracefully. you nod.

“that sounds absolutely perfect.”

“netflix?”

“and chill?” you chime in sarcastically. he glares at you. “couldn’t help it.” you hold your hands up in faux surrender.

-

you don’t know when you fall asleep, but you conk out, head lulling against his shoulder when you do.

he haunts your dreams, fingers thick between your thighs while you whimper his name. you must be out of it, so deep in your slumber that it takes lando a good few coos of your name to draw you out of it.

when your eyes shoot open, he’s looking down at you, a single curl falling over his forehead, taunting you.

“you dreaming of me?” he grins, something in his eyes that snaps you out of your grogginess.

“wh-why?” you splutter, sitting up. he’s still so close to you, coy smile pulling at the corners of his pink lips,

“kept making these little sounds, panting my name. got me thinking.”

“about what?” you whisper.

“how much i wanted to pin you to that bed last night and make you cry for me.”

“is this gonna ruin us?” your voice trembles with a unique blend of fear and anticipation.

“after last night? baby, we’re already ruined.”

his lips meet yours, tentative for just a brief second, and then it’s passionate, warm, lightning. his hands are firm on your body, pulling you impossibly closer until there’s no other option but to clamber into his lap. your hands find his hair, tugging wildly until his curls are a disheveled mess, pulled every which way.

“you’re so beautiful. want to tell you all the time but-“ lando mumbles into your mouth, urgent and hushed.

“but friends don’t do that.” you cut him off.

he pulls away from you, his nose bumping yours. his eyes are so blue today, sparkly.

“i think we’re more than that.” he mutters, lips brushing yours. “i think we have been for a while.”

“yeah.” you pant. “yeah we have. yeah.” your eyes dart between his and his kiss swollen lips.

and then you’re licking into his mouth, sighing at the relief. he paws at your waist, warm hands sliding under your jumper, gliding over your hips and up, up, up, until he’s dragging the material over you head and tossing it carelessly to the side. he kisses over your collarbone, licking and nipping while his hands smooth over your bra. he plucks at the fasten, and you relax as it snaps open, and the straps slide over your shoulders.

“is this okay, angel?” he whispers.

“perfect.”

his thumbs trace over the curve of your breasts, teasing your nipples gently, enough to send shockwaves through your body. you’re subconsciously grinding down on him, dragging your hips over his crotch, mouth dropping open when you hear the way his breath catches in his throat.

“driving me insane, honey.” he gulps, rolling your nipples between his fingers. “need to get inside of you.”

“hurry up then.” you sound desperate to your ears, delicious to his.

“do you know how hard it was to stay in my room last night? when i could hear you making those pretty little noises? you’re so bad.” he tuts, lifting you off of his lap and laying you back against the couch.

nimble fingers undo your jeans and you jolt as he slides them down your thighs, intimate touches on intimate skin. you lace your fingers through his hair, pulling him down to kiss you, and you moan into his open mouth when his fingers trail beneath your underwear.

lando dips his fingers between your folds, groaning as soon as he feels where your wetness has pooled in your panties. you’re intoxicating, he thinks, and he’s starving for you. he pries his hand from between your legs, lapping at his soaked digits. his eyes fall shut, eyelashes fluttering over his cheeks.

your taste sparks something within him, and he wriggles onto his belly, resting in between your thighs. he toys with your panties, just for a second, and he can’t help but latch on. he laves his tongue over the growing wet patch, eyes fluttering shut. he drags your underwear to the side, lapping over your cunt messily.

“taste so good.” he slurs into your pussy, depraved and ravenous. you buck your hips, the sensation of his words sending rumbles of vibrations to every one of your nerve endings.

you writhe against the plush couch, sinking deeper between the cushions as he fucks his tongue deeper and deeper, burrowing his face as far between your thighs as he can go.

“lando, ‘m so close.” you gasp, tugging hard at his curls, taking your nails across his scalp. he whimpers, whimpers, at the sensation and that’s enough to finish you off.

he keeps going, kitten licking you through your orgasm and you pant, nothing but white behind your squeezed shut eyes. you have you drag him away, overstimulated and twitching against the silvery grey fabric of the sofa.

“fuck.” you laugh, breathless.

“good?” he smirks.

“shut up and come here.” you make grabby hands at him, and he clambers over you, smiling wide, his lips coated shiny and red.

“you’re pretty.” he coos, licking his lips clean.

“so are you.” you whisper.

he collapses on top of you, urgently slotting his lips over yours. he slides his hands all over your frame, memorising every dip and curve, while your hands find the waistband of his joggers. you push the material down his hips gently tracing his hip bone; he shudders at the graze, kicking the fabric away and wrapping his hand around his cock.

you glance down, taking in the sight before you. he’s thick in his own hand, red and slick already, as he runs his hand over himself.

“you want me?” he manages to ask through gritted teeth.

“please.” you whine, reaching to replace his hand, but he bats you away.

“patience, baby. wanted you like this for so long, you can wait a few seconds.” he scolds, condescendingly.

you don’t get a chance to talk back, because he’s sliding inside of you, nice and slow. your eyes roll back at the delectable stretch, he’s bigger than you’ve had in a while, and you hum lowly. he kisses over your throat and you can hear his shaky breath fanning your ear. you’re fluttering around him, adjusting to him with small circles of your hips.

“do something.” you beg, hushed and breathless.

“you think you can take it?” lando taunts, but you can hear the way his voice waivers as your walls spasm around him.

“can you?” you whisper, giving as good as you get. something inside of him snaps and pride kicks in, because before you can even truly gloat, he’s barrelling into you.

you cling onto his shoulders greedily, digging your fingertips in to whatever part of him you can get hold of. he thrusts so deep, all the way in, before dragging fully out, leaving you aching for him to fill you up again. he’s going quick enough that you can’t really complain, but slow enough to tease, to drive you insane beneath him. it feels too good to hurry him up, he knows what he’s doing and you want to take it, feel him like this. you’re quivering, his cock hitting every single spot that makes you tick and you think you can die happy now that you’ve had him.

“i’m so close.” you warn, overstimulated from your first orgasm. he ups his pace, just enough to send you spiralling, and you can’t keep your eyes open as you let go, your legs kicking out.

it’s too much when you open your eyes and find him staring down at you, sleepy and sweaty. he’s gorgeous like this, pupils blown, bronze skin glistening in the low light. he feels the way you throb around him, still buried so deep.

“not done with you yet, angel. c’mere.” lando sits back, pulling your limp body along with him until your right back where you started, sprawled over his lap.

he’s so close to his own release, pained and restless, and you can feel the head rubbing against your clit. even in your state of pure exhaustion, you can’t help but grind down against him, and he lifts your hips enough for you to sink down on him.

your sounds of pleasure ricochet off of one another’s, animalistic contentment spilling from between two sets of equally swollen lips. you’re so full like this, rocking tiredly, backwards and forwards.

“just like that, baby. just like that.” he’s breathing heavily, brows furrowed. his head tips back, neck thick and flexed, and you’re thrown back into the deep end of your fantasy.

“oh my god.” you choke, tears of satisfaction building. “lando!” you cry, meeting his shallow thrusts. he’s guiding your hips up and down, just enough to hammer against that special spot that makes you whine his name.

“cum for me, baby, last one. know you can do it pretty girl.” the praise knocks the last bits of air out of you and you collapse forwards into his arms. he holds you tight, groaning sweet nothings and your name like a prayer, right in your ear.

“you’re definitely staying tonight.” lando laughs softly, coming down. you think back to your earlier refusal, grinning lazily.

“guest room?” you joke, kissing his shoulder.

he pulls you back so that he can look at you, cupping your face.

“you’re never staying in that room ever again.”

he kisses you, then. soft. warm. home.

it’s natural, everything you’ve been missing, and somehow the only thing you’ve been missing in your relationship with him. he already gave you everything you could ever need, tonight was the cherry on top.

“are we gonna be okay?” you whisper, so quiet that you can barely hear yourself. fear pools in your belly.

“i hope so. ‘cause i’m never letting you go now.”

-

i feel so warm inside hehe

-

taglist

@thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin @charli123456789 @ln4norizz @formulaal

lemme know if you wanna be added or removed :)

[miguelspriscilla]

fucking rcd!miguel in the back of his car after he won a race

“Oh—fuck..”

Miguel grunted as he continued pounding into you deeply from behind. His eyes staring down at your ass, the small-spaced car covering the sounds of squelching and skin-slapping. Your eyes rolling into the back of your head with each thrust, your fingers digging into the center console where you were forced to lay on as your best friend fucks you roughly in the back of his car.

This is how the night usually ended after Miguel won a car race. It all started during a sleepover at your house when you suggested the idea, giving him motivation to actually put more effort in the competitions. So after these races, the car would be parked by a cliff nearby the city while the two of you fuck round after round—not stopping even when you were on the verge of passing out.

“You like that, nena? Tell me.” His lips curving into a smirk, both of his hands gripping on your hips tightly. You squirmed, feeling his hard cock still thrusting into your tight, spongy walls.

“Y-Yes..I love it so much, Miggy!” you moaned breathlessly, the cute noises you were letting out were only bringing Miguel more pleasure.

“Fuck, I love when you call me that..”

You responded with a sweet smile before feeling him suddenly hit that sweet spot of yours, your face contorting with pleasure once again. “Please, Miggy! I want you to cum inside me!” you beg without hesitation, your knuckles turning white as your hands move to grip the center console instead. “Fuckfuckfuck!”

Your chants only encourages Miguel to set a relentless pace, driving his cock into you so roughly to the point the tip kisses your cervix. Pornographic moans leaving your sweet lips as Miguel reaches over to grab a handful of your hair to pull you back, forcing your back to arch even more, enough for your breasts to press down on the leather material of the console, never losing his pace, greedily driving himself deeper and deeper.

“You drive me crazy..never wanna leave this sweet pussy..” Miguel darkly chuckles, just as you were about to give out, feeling yourself wanting to stop, you felt yourself reach a climax that had you seeing white spots in your vision, moving your back closer to your best friend’s chest. Your face completely stained with tears and drool while shuddering as your legs shake— Miguel felt you continue to clench around his cock.

“Oh Miguel!” you mewled, Miguel watches a white ring of your sweetness cover his cock and it leaves the man almost falling apart on top of you. He groaned into your neck with a final thrust as he sank deep inside you, his cum filling you up as you moaned at the hot sensation.

As your best friend continues emptying himself inside your cunt, both of your chests heaving heavily with a thin layer of sweat on your bodies. You were completely fucked out, not one thought in your pretty little head while you stayed still.

Suddenly Miguel’s phone began going off, as if it knew when to start ringing. He seemed to forget to shut it off before he impatiently jumped your bones. He gave your butt a harsh slap, laughing when you responded with a loud whimper before he reached to his race car jacket to grab his phone from the pocket.

“Damnit!” Miguel rolled his eyes, looking at his phone screen and it read, ‘Dana.’ His girlfriend. As much as he didn’t want to answer, he still clicked the green button. As soon as he held his phone to his ear, he slid his now soft cock out of your pussy.

“Aw! Come back, Miggy!”

“Give me a sec, nena. It’s Dana.” Miguel murmured, hearing you continue to protest for him to stick his cock back in but instead he leaned down to give you a sloppy kiss, slowly rubbing tight circles on your clit as he waited for Dana say whatever the hell she wanted to talk about at 1am. “Hey— Dana..right now isn’t a good time.”

“Yeah you must’ve been sleeping! But..I just missed you.” Dana replied affectionately through the other line. She seemed eager at the fact Miguel picked up.

Though he didn’t match his girlfriend’s enthusiasm, his focus remained on you. Resting himself on your back, using his tongue to finally explore your drooling mouth while listening to Dana talk endlessly about her day, how much she misses Miguel, and how she wished she could have attended the race to see him win.

Your knees still prompted on the car floor, slowly aching from how long you stayed in that uncomfortable position as you press your thighs tightly, trying to relief the loss of your best friend’s cock. You swore you could fall asleep from the boring conversation Dana was basically having a conversation with herself. You never liked her, she was obnoxious and passed herself around way too much. But the feeling was mutual between the two of you, she never liked how you and Miguel are so close..Dana has suspected most of the time that you were both hanging out— you were sucking his cock at the back of his car.

Miguel mindlessly nodded at whatever Dana said, humming against your lips until he pulled away and watch you lay your head, pouting your lips. “Mhm..mhm..yeah?” Miguel shrugged, not paying attention at all. He was watching the mixture of your juices and his cum oozing out of your pussy, the scene was absolutely breathtaking, literally. He couldn’t breathe right as he watched your fluids drip down your thighs and onto the carpet, staining it but Miguel didn’t care.

Though you were sensitive and exhausted, you pathetically whined loudly— surely Dana had catch that. “Hey Dana, I’m kinda busy right now. Let me call you back in 20 minutes?” Miguel interrupted his girlfriend during mid-conversation. His eyes trained on your leaking hole, watching as more of his cum spill out of you, the feeling making your body shudder once more.

“Actually let me call you back in the morning, yeah?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

SOMEONE FUCKING HELP ME!!! IVE BEEN CONTEMPLATING ON POSTING THIS FOR 5 DAYS NOW. PLEASE PLEASE IM SORRY ITS BAD I JUST LOVE MIGUEL😭

[starkwlkr]

bitch, i’m a mother! | f1

female driver x f1 drivers (platonic) i like that almost every story i read about a female driver her team ends up being porsche and I’m not mad about it :) so for this fic, the reader is driving for porsche lol also I’m just making up names for the engineers and team principal. also because I’m in love with charlie hunnam, my man is gonna make an appearance

part 1 part 3

Y/N BEING THE MOTHER OF EVERY DRIVER IN THE PADDOCK

“Y/n is so great, you’re going to love her. She’s the best.” Oscar listened to his new teammate as they walked into the Porsche hospitality. The rookie immediately felt out of place with him being the only one in papaya colors while Lando was in casual clothes.

“Hey, Lando!”

“Lando! How’s it going?”

“Norris, hey!”

Lando greeted most of the Porsche team with a smile while Oscar nodded at them. “I hang out here sometime if you couldn’t tell.” Lando joked.

“So if I can’t find you in Mclaren . . ”

“There’s a big chance I might be here.”

Oscar nodded once again. “Noted. Where’s Y/n?”

As if on cue, Y/n walked into the Porsche hospitality with her team principal by her side. Once she spotted Lando, she called out his name. As the Brit approached the driver and team principal, he gave her a big hug. It was the start of the 2023 season and they hadn’t seen each in a while, of course he was going to give her a hug.

“I’ll see you around, Y/n. Nice to see you, Lando, and you must be mclaren’s rookie. Welcome to F1, I’m Adam.” The Porsche team principal greeted Oscar.

“Thank you—” before Oscar could continue, Y/n cut him off.

“I’ve heard so many great things about you! And you’re an Aussie too! What is it with Mclaren and Aussies? Whatever, I’m glad you’re here, Oscar. I hope you enjoy yourself. Have you eaten yet? I was just in my way to get breakfast. Let me tell you a secret, the Porsche hospitality has the best food in the paddock.” Oscar instantly felt at home with the female driver. She had a comforting presence that Oscar immediately took notice of.

“Told you she’s the best. Just wait until it’s your birthday. She bakes you a cake.” Lando told Oscar.

The entire grid was together for their drivers briefing early in the morning. After going over every detail of the upcoming Grand Prix, the race director decided to let the drivers voice their concerns.

“Does anyone have any questions?”

Y/n raised her hand. “I wanna know who banned the pit wall celebration.”

“Anyone else?”

“Yeah, I’d like to know as well.” Lewis added.

“We can discuss pit wall celebrations at a later time. Excuse me, I am needed somewhere else.” The race director excused himself.

“Don’t worry, I don’t care about being banned. I’ll be there like a proud mom taking millions of pictures of you when you win.” Y/n whispered to Lewis as she layed her head on his shoulder.

“And I’ll be doing the same when you win.” Lewis replied.

“What about when I win? I also want millions of pictures taken of me and the exact same chocolate cake you baked for me for my birthday a year ago. Extra sprinkles please.” Lando smiled innocently.

“Fine, win first then I’ll bake. Shouldn’t be that hard unless you got a tractor for a car.” Y/n teased. “I love you, Lando. Of course I’ll take millions of pictures of you when you win.”

It was a perfect day to race in Silverstone. Like always, Lando had his family in attendance. He was in the mclaren garage when he spotted Y/n on one of the tvs being interviewed by Lissie.

“Hey, that’s my grid mum!” He told his engineer as if his engineer didn’t already know. His smile quickly faded when a blonde man appeared behind Y/n in sunglasses. Lando then watched as the man’s name appeared on the tv.

Charlie Hunnam, actor.

Who was he and why was he with his grid mom?

“Hey, that’s the dude from Sons of Anarchy! My wife watches that series.” Lando heared someone say. He continued to watch the screen as Lissie asked Charlie a question about Y/n.

“She’s incredible, absolutely amazing. I’m happy I finally get to see her talent in person.” Charlie replied, smiling at Y/n which made her blush.

“He’s British . . ” he mumbled.

After Lissie thanked Y/n and Charlie for the interview, the camera kept rolling on them as they walked away. That’s when Lando saw Charlie hold Y/n’s hand then pressed a kiss to the back of it.

“She’s dating a British man and she didn’t tell me?!”

Lando immediately walked out the garage and straight to the Porsche garage. He had a strong feeling Y/n would be showing her new lover around so he started there. He soon spotted the couple talking with the Porsche team principal, Adam.

“Oh, hey Lando! I was about to look for you. I want you to meet Charlie.” Y/n excused herself from Adam and introduced Charlie to her grid son.

“It’s very nice to meet you, mate. Y/n had told me a lot about you.” Charlie smiled.

“Yeah, I’ve heard nothing about you. Nada, zero, not a single thing, zilch.” Lando then turned his attention to Y/n. “I think we need to talk.”

“Okay . . ” Y/n said confused as she turned to Charlie to tell him she would be right back. Lando took her hand and dragged her to a corner away from Charlie. “Lando! What’s wrong? Are you nervous about today?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?”

Oh.

“You always tell me everything and now I kinda feel betrayed. Especially when i also found out he’s British!” Lando said dramatically.

“Lando, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it just sorta happened. We met a few months ago and he’s made me the happiest ever since. I wanted to introduce you properly today.” Y/n explained.

“He makes you happy? Like genuinely happy? Because if he doesn’t I will run him over repeatedly.” Lando warned.

Y/n laughed and brought Lando in for a hug. “I know you would, but there’s no need for that. I think he’s the one.”

“Before you leave, there’s actually one more gift for you and you don’t have to guess who it’s from.”

Logan was confused, but happily accepted the gift. It was the annual F1 secret santa and he had just finished unwrapping his present. A gift wrapped perfectly with a blue bow was placed in front of him. The tag read ‘From Y/n’ in neat handwriting.

“Thank you, Y/n! I don’t even want to open it, it’s wrapped so good.” Logan chuckled.

Every year, anyone who got a nicely wrapped gift knew it was from Y/n. And any year that someone new entered the season, Y/n would give them a gift during secret santa. She did it for Lando, George, Alex, Charles, Yuki and Guanyu when they were rookies and now she was doing it for Logan and Oscar. She had even sent Nyck a present as well, she wished he was in the paddock doing secret santa as well though.

“Okay, I’ll open it, I’m too curious.” Logan finally unwrapped the present and saw it was a Miami Heat jersey singed by LeBron James. Logan almost freaked out when he saw the signature.

“Holy shit! Wait sorry, I can’t curse, but holy shit!” He took the jersey out of the box and admired it. “This is incredible.”

“You love it?” He heard the familiar comforting voice of Y/n from behind him. “I hope it’s the right size.” She joined Logan in front of the camera.

“It is, don’t worry,” he chuckled as he gave her a hug. “Thank you so much, I love it.”

“I think you just adopted another son.” The camera man told her.

“I love all my grid sons equally.”

[greg-montgomery]

Texting bf's dad hotch by accident when you're drunk and trying to get your bf to pick you up...

this idea >>>>

also aaron has another son besides jack in this

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

They were just a few margaritas. You didn’t expect a casual girl’s night to turn into a pounding headache and a room that was spinning around you.

It was fun and your friends wanted to stay longer, but your upset stomach would not let you enjoy the rest of your night. You were more than ready to get out of there.

“I’m gonna ask my boyfriend to come pick me up,” you told your friends, who seemed a bit too drunk to process your words.

As carefully as you could, you made your way outside the bar, and took your phone out of your purse. Going through your contacts you stopped when you spotted your boyfriend’s name.

‘Babe can you come and pick me up? I can’t drive’

You hit send, and right after, you shared your location with him.

‘I’ll be there in 20.’

Oh.

That was it? No whining? No scolding you for drinking too much? No complaining about you being an inconvenience?

It was a full moon; maybe he was going through some kind of transformation.

You closed your eyes for a bit and rested your head against the wall. The minutes would simply not pass fast enough. I’m never drinking again, you thought.

Your phone buzzed in your hands and a new message flashed across the screen.

‘I’m here.’

You were ready to lift your head and search for his car, but your eyes were glued on the contact name that appeared above the text you had just received.

It didn’t say Mark. It said Mark’s dad.

No way, you thought. No way, I asked Aaron Hotchner to come pick me up from a bar because I’m wasted.

But that was exactly what you had done.

The word embarrassment didn’t even begin to cover the range of emotions you were feeling at that moment; especially as you watched him get out of his car and walking towards you.

Why did he have to look so good? As if drunk texting him wasn’t embarrassing enough, he had to look like a god in a suit that cost more than your monthly rent.

‘Mr. Hotchner,” you said, when he approached you. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to text you. I wanted to text Mark, but I got confused and God…I’m so, so dizzy.”

 His expression stayed serious, but he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Let’s get in the car.”

Aaron opened the door for you and held your hand so you could get inside. You expected him to close the door but instead he leaned over you and fastened your seatbelt for you.

Your heart started jumping around at the smell of his cologne and the feeling of his face so close to yours. You weren’t proud of it, but Aaron Hotchner was your forbidden desire. And the star of more dirty dreams than you’d ever dare to admit.

His thick fingers brushed against your stomach as he made sure that your seatbelt was tight enough to keep you safe.

You shut your eyes and took a deep breath trying to calm your body down.

“Are you alright?” he asked, softly.

His deep voice was the cherry on top that had you melting on your seat.

“Yeah,” you answered weakly. “Just dizzy.”

He closed the door and made his way to the other side, and soon he was on the driver’s seat.

There was a small water bottle in the cup holder and he picked it up. “Here,” he offered, “Have some water. It’ll help.”

“Thank you,” you said taking it from his hands, and shivered at the contact when your fingers brushed.

The bottle was half empty which meant he already had some of it before you. He had wrapped his lips around it; around where your lips were now.

You devoured any water that was left and realized how bad you needed to get hydrated. “I needed that.”

“I can tell,” he laughed. “Come on,” he added, and started the car. “Let’s take you home.”

“Were you asleep?”

“Hm?””

“When I texted you. Did I wake you up?” you asked with a worried tone.

“I rarely sleep, honey. You don’t have to worry about me.”

You pressed your thighs together at the sound of the pet name and the sight of his hands around the wheel.

“Thank you for coming. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” he said. “You needed me.”

“I did,” you said, breathless. “Mark would…”

You paused.

“Go on.”

You hesitated. “He would have probably told me to call a cab.”

“He’d let his girl get in the car with a stranger in the middle of the night? When she’s drunk?”

“Sometimes he gets upset with things like that. And, listen, I get it. I can be trouble sometimes.”

“Oh you can be,” Aaron said. “But not for the reasons you think.”

“What do you mean?”

He ignored your question, but it didn’t take too long before he spoke again.

“I’m gonna have a word with him. He’s not treating you well.”

“No, please don’t.”

The only thing that talk would achieve would be Mark getting upset with you.

There was a long pause, and you took advantage of the silence to stare at him. His side profile, his hands, his arms. He was perfect.

‘I wish Mark was more like you,” you said before thinking any better.

“Sweetheart, you shouldn’t say things like that.”

“I could say way worse.”

He chuckled. “Unless you want both of us to get in trouble, don’t.”

“But-”

Aaron reached out to hold your hand, making you go quiet. “You’re drunk. But what I do want you to know is that I’m always here, okay?”

“Okay.”

He squeezed your hand and didn’t let go the entire ride home.

part 2