#call them back like!! buddy with what ears!!! with what phone!!

[tonycries]

I Wanna Get Freaky On Camera

Synopsis. On your knees in front of your boyfriend, it was just an innocent video, right? So why are you hearing his best friend’s voice from behind the screen?

Pairing. Multiple x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, being recorded, voyeurism, oral (male receiving), exhibitionism, mentioned threesome, cowgirl, dirty talk, pet names (babe), swearing.

Word count. 1.5k

A/N. Surprise post. Art by @_3aem on X.

“Smile for the camera, babe.”

You would - if you weren’t choking on his throbbing cock, tears streaming down your cheeks, throaty little gurgles muffled by his leaking tip hitting the back of your throat. 

The flashlight was blinding. 

Harsh light bouncing off your boyfriend’s half-lidded eyes, pupils blown. Chest rising and falling erratically, hungry gaze locked on the way you gag and moan around his dick. “Mmm yeah- oh fuck yeah, deeper. Milk me dry, babe. Look s’pretty on film.”

Strangled praises only spurring you to obey mindlessly, you relax your throat - shoving his pulsing dick deeper and deeper. Inch by inch. Your nose pressing into the tufts of hair on his pelvis, wet with precum and spit. Too cock-drunk to think too hard about the rustling from the screen.

Precum salty on your tongue, you flick his sensitive slit in a way that makes him throw his head back - phone unsteady in one hand, the other searing on your scalp. Breath hitching, he bobs your head in increasingly urgent movements - up, up, up. Desperate, jerky thrusts of his hips like he’s trying to fuck something delicious out for you.

Your boyfriend's knuckles are white on his phone. Deliriously, you wonder why the fuck he even bothered with the video at this point - too shaky, too impatient. 

Almost as if he could read your mind, a low whisper rings in your ear, breath hot on your face. “Don’ worry about that, babe.”, zooming in on your swollen, glossy lips. “Jus’ focus on what you’re doing like the filthy slut you are.”

Feeding off the electricity crackling in the air, you tighten the hands massaging his tight balls. Pressing right between them in the way you knew drove him crazy. 

You squeal - as much as you can with his throbbing erection lodged in your throat - nails digging into his hips as they tremble and buck into your plush mouth. “Ah! Oh fuck- Hngh- Baby, m’gonna m’gonna-”

His words turn into breathy moans, signaling the beginning of the end. With a final thrust, he explodes in thick ropes of cum that paint your mouth white. You struggle to swallow the hot spurts of seed quickly enough, coughing around his twitching cock. Cum spilling out of your bruised lips, specks splattering onto the back of his phone. 

Tears stinging your eyes, but you still refuse to break eye contact - batting your lashes innocently at him as you milk his cock for everything he’s worth.  

Chest heaving, lust-drunk words tumble out of his lips, “S’perfect. Look at her hah- look how fucking pretty she swallows my cum.” 

Words you’re slowly realizing aren’t meant for you.

Heart dropping straight to your dripping cunt, eyes widening as it strikes you - this fucker was on video call.

Now, he didn’t mean to trick you. He really did feel so awful about it - but watching the way his pretty girl’s lips stretched so sinfully around his cock - he really couldn’t bear to be stingy enough to hide it. 

Which is why, a dangerous smirk playing at the corners of his lips, he pats your hair soothingly as you sputter. “Now now. We’re not done yet. What kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t give my buddy a front row seat to you creaming on my cock?”

Humiliation mingling with something carnal inside you, you freeze in shock as an awfully familiar voice chuckles from the phone. “C’mon now, sweetheart. I bet you’ll cum faster with an audience.” 

Thighs squeezing together. Heat rushing to your cheeks. Shit. Maybe you will. 

And for all the dark confidence on your boyfriend's face, you relish in the breathless gasp escaping him as you stand. Knees stinging where you straddle his hips - still-hard cock glistening with cum and saliva, leaking onto his toned abdomen. 

Surprise flickers across his face, swiftly replaced by a predatory excitement echoed by the appreciative groan from his best friend. 

“Well, might as well put on a show, huh?”

And with that, you sink down completely onto his still-sensitive length, groaning at the feeling of him throbbing inside you, heavy balls pressing into your ass. Tears clinging to your lashes at the delicious stretch, you don’t give yourself time to adjust to his thick cock, grinding in feral, mindless motions with reckless abandon. 

One hand has a bruising grip on your hips, steadying your rhythm as he thrusts up into you at an unforgiving pace matching yours. The other, angled just right to capture your dripping, wet hole stretched so shamefully on his throbbing dick. 

“That’s right, show him that perfect view. Goddamn. Imagine how jealous he is- fucking his fist just wishing that was you.”

“Sh-shit. She jus’ got wetter. Looks s’good with her pretty pussy stuffed.” Low groans spill from his phone, making you buck \wildly into his twitching cock. 

White-hot ropes of pleasure run down your spine at the lewd squelches sounding from the speaker - your boyfriend’s best friend not even trying to hide his desperate chase for pleasure.

Balls stinging your ass at the merciless cadence, it’s all you can do to brokenly stammer out “Sh-show.”

A moment fumbling to switch the camera and you wince as the light hits your eyes. A jolt going down your body at his best friend’s disheveled state.

Greedy gaze flickering between your boyfriend - brows furrowed and bottom lip under his teeth as he focused on fucking your snug cunt - and his best friend on the screen - hungry gaze locked on you and thumb mercilessly teasing his leaking tip. Veiny hand moving up and down. Up and down up and-

“Shit, baby. You’re hah- clenching down on me so hard, like being watched, hm?” a dangerous murmur. You whine mindlessly in agreement, mixing with the relentless slapping of skin as you fuck yourself deeper and deeper onto his heated cock. 

“Hngh- M’getting so fucking hard just watching her drunk on your cock. Look s’good split open on it.”

“Yeah? She’d probably look better split open on two. Maybe we should let you join in next time. Would you like that, babe? My little cockslut?”

You jolt as you’re finally addressed as the men spoke over you as if you were nothing more than an object. A carnal, ugly part of you delighting in the way you were so used. 

“Oh god, yes.” you pant, words pulling you closer and closer to the edge, head spinning so deliriously. “Wan’ both of you. Wanna feel both of you inside me. I need it.”

Your boyfriend's eyes narrow, pupils dilated with lust as he responds, “Anything for my greedy girl. But for now…” his voice trails off, thrusting deeper into your snug cunt. 

Onscreen, his best friend groans, doubling down on the hasty hand moving along his throbbing length. “Fuck, I wish I was there.”

A hum of agreement, “C’mon now. Beg me to fill you up, slut. Make sure our lil’ friend hears how desperate you are.”

“Yes, yes, yes” you chant, lost in the haze of pleasure. “Fill me up, please. Want it dripping out of me.”

At your words, your boyfriend’s pace falters, thrusts becoming erratic and desperate as he approaches his climax - his best friend not far behind, fist flying fervently up and down his glistening length - in tandem with the ruthless cock ramming into you.

“God. Such a good little slut f’us” your boyfriend praises, voice strained with pleasure. “Cum for us, baby. Let us see how much you want it.”

And that’s all it takes for you to see stars behind your closed lids, riding out wave after wave of pleasure on your boyfriend’s twitching cock. Finally, he empties inside you with a guttural groan, filling your fluttering walls to the brim with his seed. 

So much- there was so much. Seems he was the one that adored having an audience. Though, with the way your pussy is greedily milking his cock, you can’t say you’re far behind.

Your thighs shake in pain and pleasure as his hot cum leaks out of your overfilled pussy, dripping down your legs and onto his quivering balls as he fucks into you like an animal. Over and over and-

With all the strength you can muster, you crack an eye open to glance at the screen - only to catch the heavenly sight of him losing control. Fist faltering on his throbbing erection as with a final, forceful tug he spurts thick ropes of seed. An orgasm so hard that it leaks onto his lap and reaches his chest.

The three of you chasing peak after peak. So sinfully. 

Your ears ring, vision spotty as your high finally bates. Spent, you collapse against your boyfriend’s muscled chest, heart hammering wildly against both of your ribs, and cunt still twitching in sensitivity.

Still disoriented and completely fucked out, you almost miss the low murmur from above you. Almost.

“Can’t wait till you’re here to see this in person.”

- GOJO and GETO, TOJI and SHIU, SUNA and Osamu, ATSUMU and SAKUSA, Eren and Armin

A/N. I miss when this song was everywhere.

Plagiarism not authorized. 

[leclsrc]

wanna be nearer ✴︎ mv1

genre: 18+, fuck buddies ahhhaha, smut, porn w/o plot basically...

word count: 3.6k  

It seems every time you tell yourself to stop, Max comes back into your life and all sense of resolve crumbles. title from this

auds here… hiii :) req'd by SO MANY PEOPLE i can't even start compiling all the asks hahah but if u asked for this here it is! writing's been tuff for me lately but this was the one thing i could continue daily (weird) also there is a case to be made re: max's hottest pictures being like 1 pixel in resolution... hope u all like it!!!

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, some vague sexting/a sex tape being watched, praise/dirty talk central, size kink, unprotected sex, handjob (f receiving), max being a meanie

It’s busy today. You haven’t seen him all day. 

To be fair, you weren’t necessarily looking—not at first, anyways. How many days had it been since the last time, now? The one in your hotel room? Almost two weeks, you think. The real answer’s blurry in your head, especially when you count the close calls, but this should be a record for you two at this point. Neither of you acknowledge that the only reason you’ve been so good at staying away from each other is because when you’re not roped into the same media junket, you avoid each other at all costs.

The media pen is full; everybody’s shoulder-to-shoulder because a few other networks bought their way into the space for the Singapore race. Right when your mind settles back into the focus of work, though—

“Here,” he says, his voice rough and tickling your ear. You nearly stumble forward, shocked at how his voice almost vibrates through you, a low trill that ripples top to bottom.

His hand settles at the small of your back, like his verbal confirmation wasn’t enough on its own; it’s big and his thumb rubs softly at the smooth strip of skin in-between your low skirt and your top. “Passing through.”

“Sure,” you say, dry. “Sorry.” You clear your throat and cant backwards into his touch—briefly, before you step forward and allow him to pass fully. Across you, Lissie looks up from her phone and you sense her trying to gauge why you’re so close to Max.

You blink and wait for him to disappear, wondering what you’ll tell her—how, more like. How the conversation even opens. How you’d phrase the truth, which in itself is a horribly grey area. Well, Lis, if you must know, Max and I have casual sex. A lot. It’s actually not very casual. We stopped now, but—yes, Max. That Max, yes. 

“What about Max?”

Your eyes snap upward and then to your left, where you can see Max’s figure disappearing into a crowd of engineers. They return to Lissie and you feign confusion to mask panic. “What?”

“You were spacing out and then suddenly said his name.” She presses the tip of her pen onto her chin, humming. She doesn’t look at you and you thank God for it—eye contact would’ve rattled the truth out of you in seconds.

“I…” You shake your head. “I was irritated with—I’ve been irritated with him all morning. It’s. Yeah.”

“Oh,” she says, nodding, looking away for a second but not pausing. “Oh, okay. D’you wanna go over this edit again?”

—

The stale air of his hotel room, alleviated only by the vaguely fragrant linen spray they use when he’s out, is what greets Max when he arrives in the afternoon.The first thing he does—the only task he’d even thought of en route here—after the door clicks shut is pull up his Messages app and type.

Just got to hotel. He tosses his phone onto the bed while he waits, tugs his cap off and rakes reckless fingers through his hair. His new stylist’s got him onto jeans that don’t “look painted on” (you once said, verbatim), but he’d rather die than lounge in denim, so he swaps them out for just his Calvins.

His mind’s lethargic, but even his version of lethargic is high-drive for others—his brain has the silly tendency to work in absolute overdrive. He itches for a drink and orders a Scotch on the telephone. He checks his phone, which is lying facedown still, and as soon as he picks it up it chimes with your reply.

OK, nice. Did u need something?

No, just wanted to let you know. He hits send, then adds another. You’re off @ 8?

Ended early, I’m in the car. He’s in the middle of drafting a response when you send a follow-up.

I thought we agreed no contact unless business

He scoffs out a dry laugh. Despite himself, he reads the text in your voice, his brain completing the image of the bossy tone with crossed arms and a wickedly arched brow. In response he types: Can’t even update a friend nowadays? I am very tired you know.

Rules are rules, he reads. Then, Get some rest.

Yeah. Got a drink.

I said rest, not drink. Even then he can hear the exasperation in your voice.

How was work? I hurt a muscle doing training. That’s why I’m at the hotel early.

Feel better soon, you send. Had some press stuff today. Boring shit

Yeah? I missed you today.

Really?

A lot. He hums and leans backward, lets his head settle into the pillow, the smell of the linen spray consuming his nostrils. He waits for his phone to buzz, vibrate softly on the hard surface of his chest. It does, after a few minutes, after he’s let his eyes shut and let himself rest them for a bit, after the room service comes knocking and gives him the Scotch he’d requested while ago.

He’s back sitting on his bed when it vibrates. He picks it up and reads: How much?

You’re awfully easy to rile up. He smiles around the rim of his glass—he knows exactly where this is heading. 

So much I think I’ll watch some videos of us.

The only caveat of casual sex as two people who essentially dislike each other is the fact that it’s all under wraps—which means if you two try to sneak off together, or are even caught in the same vicinity, people raise suspicions. And that means there are weeks where you barely get to fuck.

And that means you both grow antsy for it. He makes fun of you for being needy, when you’re tipsy and palming at the denim of his jeans or when you bend over when you know he’s looking. But the truth is he grows needy for it, too, craves you like you’re all that matters—he gets extra handsy, drops another innuendo when he knows you’re listening. There is a case to be made that he’s worse, in fact, because fans sometimes skirt around his words and wonder why he sounds so flirty when you’re the reporter in the room.

It was difficult but eventually he found a minor workaround: sometimes he films the two of you. There’s none of those propping his phone up kind of stuff, he just fishes for it in the middle of fucking you so he can store it for himself. It’s locked on his phone and he only has a few (the few has grown in number lately), but God it gives him release when he needs it and you’re not there.

I’ll call you when I’m at the lobby, comes the response. It’s always futile, the attempts to stay away from each other.

He pulls up the folder and lets his eyes skate over the thumbnails, squeezes himself through his boxers. Fuck. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to watch—the ones of you sucking him off, the ones of his fingers stretching you out. He recalls the whine in your voice in each of them, the pleads that escaped you for him to fuck you harder.

So Max, for the life of him, can’t even count how many times these videos have made him cum. But there’s one he hasn’t seen yet—the one he took the night before you two parted. You’d become extra needy on this night, preceding the season, he supposes, the separation. You already were anticipating the deprivation, starved for him more than usual. He’d have kissed you pretty, given you one orgasm after another and still you’d want more. And on this night it was you who asked him to film, you who wanted all of them on tape, so you’d both have something to tide you over until he got to fuck you again.

He pulls his cock out and strokes over it. And with his other hand, he presses his thumb on that video.

In it he’s fucking you in the dark, keeping the phone’s flashlight on your pussy as he sinks his cock into you. When he pulls back out the light reflects on the slick coating his dick, makes it glisten. It looks so wet, sounds so wet, with each thrust into you. He remembers just how it feels; he imagines that he’s back in your bed, fucking you again; that his fist is your pussy, and the spit lubricating it is the wetness that’s drooling out of you on camera.

He can see how tight you are—the way your pussy grips the shaft each time he pulls his cock out, greedy for him. Just like you.

The two of you were supposed to be quiet, too. You were at a hotel, your room beside another driver’s; you were supposed to be careful not to stir anyone. But your moans are louder than he remembers; so is the way you say, breathily, between gasps, Right there, Maxie, m’so close. Max inhales through his teeth, his cock throbbing at that—that Maxie, the cute little whimper out your mouth.

He strokes himself faster, watches the way your fingers slip into frame to rub at your clit, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. He can see, hear—feel how wet you are, the sound of your cunt growing wetter with every thrust. He hears his own voice again, mutter out So good for me, yeah? And your babbled affirmation in response.

You cum hard, your slick getting everything wet and shiny and Max watches himself cum next. His dick’s already spurting when he pulls out and lets himself release on your lower stomach, some of it shooting onto your tits. He blinks, anchors himself back, quickens his wrist and digs his heels into the bed to keep himself from coming. Just a second longer. He knows what comes next and he needs to see it.

Like clockwork, he watches two of your fingers swipe through his cum, bringing them up to your lips. You blink up at the camera and smile. Quit it, your lips mouth, pink and cum-slick. Put it down, Maxie… fill me up again. He releases in weak spurts over his fist, a damp, flushed grunt escaping him as he does. He feels like the air’s been knocked out of him.

His phone rings and he presses it to his ear. “Hey, angel. Come on up.”

One week later

“Vodka,” you say to the bellboy when you get to the elevator. “To my hotel room. Very cold. Please. And thank you.”

The guy scurries off to fetch it for you, and five minutes and one elevator ride later, you're wrestling himself into your room, flexing your sore foot. Japan does hotel rooms well. The leather of your Manolo digs into your foot the way it does after you’ve walked the entire day and you can feel a blister forming on the back of your right heel but it doesn’t really matter, you guess, if you’re already home. Hotel-home, anyway.

You expect to find solace lounging on your bed, waiting out the hours to your morning briefing for the race and throw back a glass or two of vodka. 

Instead, you find Max on your couch. He’s sipping ice-cold vodka—your ice-cold vodka.

“Hey, pretty,” he says. “Good vodka. I got staff to wire my FIFA on the TV.”

You just stare. “My TV. What,” you say, your eyes spotting the bottle of frosty vodka by his glass, “are you doing here?”

“I hadn’t seen you all day and I wanted to,” he explains simply. “Do you want food or something?”

“Food? I—nevermind,” you shrug. You’re frozen by the door, only just warmed now from the cold air that bit at your bare legs. “Max, how long have you been here?”

“Since Will Buxton started the post-FP debrief,” he huffs. He fiddles with the remote in his grip and extends it to the TV, where FIFA comes to life. “Aw, come on, angel. I know, I know. No sex and all that. I just like your company, you know?”

“Please. Go fuck yourself,” you scoff, toeing off your shoes and wiping your hands on the fabric of your skirt. He says one thing but you expect another—it’s only natural, given all the other times one of you had failed to keep a similar promise. But still you walk yourself beside him, fix the strap of your short dress, and allow him to pour you a drink.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?” He asks absently. “About how you’re always having these talks with me about… about not having sex anymore, but you never even last two days.” He raises you the glass. “What is it, relapsing?”

“Fuck you,” you mutter. “It’s only because you keep trying to get me all hot and bothered.” You recall each time: in Monaco, in Madrid, in France. “Maybe if you got off my back once in a while, we’d be back to normal.”

He shrugs. “You just don’t have strong resolve.”

“Excuse me?” You scoff, irritation scratching at your throat.

“Wanna test that out? Come play.”

Your eyes flit over to the bright screen, all exhaustion cleared from your system. An animated Kylian Mbappe kicks a football in a loop. “Fine. One round and you’re out of my room.” He throws his hands up in surrender and you make a move to sit next to him. Max puts his hands out towards you then, nodding. You mistake it for some handshake, accept them, and then he’s wrangle you onto his lap facing outward. You feel your pulse at your throat as he pulls you tight against him.

“This is cheating,” you say, your voice dry.

“You got it wrong. Teaching.”

He moves his fingers atop yours, explaining what to press, what goes where, what to do for this or that. He can smell your perfume, hear your stilted breaths, and when he peeks over your shoulder he can see where your dress falls loose, showing the lace of your bra and your tits underneath them.

If he had it his way, he’d hike your dress up and have you ride him. But he’s given you a challenge.

You play a practice round and end up scoring a few goals, fingers making quick work of the buttons. Behind you, Max watches, content, answering your questions when you ask them hurriedly—how do I do this? That? Did I just score?

You score once, then twice, then three times, and before you know it you’re scoring in quick succession. The game is fun—it’s easy. If Max was trying to give you a hard time, he failed. You grow determined, competitive within seconds (something he really should’ve anticipated), and you’re scoring goals with skill that you’d confidently say rivals Max’s.

Max. You almost—almost forget he’s there, and then you sit up straighter and you’re hit with the sensation of his dick pressing into your ass. You inhale sharply and the controller clatters to the floor.

“You okay, pretty?” His hand comes up to rest on your knee, inching closer and closer with every hitch of your breath. Your hand, now free of the controller, seizes his, stopping it right at the middle of your thigh. 

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah? You look stressed.” He doesn’t move. “You were so close, too, weren’t you?” The score stares you right in the face: 4-5. “Maybe you just need to get your mind off it.” It’s so bullshit, so extremely obvious, but he’s right in your ear and his hand is so near where you’ve missed its presence.

You’re usually competitive. You can usually hold your ground. But with this and him—

“Maybe,” you breathe, loosening your grip. He spreads his legs, spreading yours in the process, and brings his hand closer, running slender fingers over the lace material of your underwear until you’re squirming. It grows damper the more he touches, your mouth hanging open with stunted whimpers.

“You always come back to me, schatz, don’t you,” he says, whispers against your ear. You wrench a moan out. “Remember the first time? You interviewed me in Abu Dhabi… you teased me the whole day and begged to come thrice in my room. The time in Monaco you touched yourself to me when I was in the next room. The time we almost hooked up in Miami…” He groans, to himself more than you. “You’re a dirty girl.” He’s curling two fingers inside of you now, grazing against the sweet spot pulls the most delicious moans out of your innocent mouth.

“Every time… you go, that was the last time.” While your mind recaps the memories he’s busy spelling into your ear, Max’s fingers are curling inside of you against that sweet spot just right, and your moans are getting louder and louder.

“Fuck,” he huffs, watching your flushed face get more and more euphoric.

“Aw, pretty, look at that,” Max laughs. He’s looking at your thighs, watching the way they tense and shake as his fingers stroke your g spot. Each pump and curl into your twitching pussy feels better and better, and your dripping walls are starting to clench around his fingers.

“Wait, I—I can’t,” you pant, lolling your head onto his shoulder and involuntarily bucking your hips upward. 

“Yeah you can,” he orders. “It’s so easy to get you to cum, isn’t it? Or is that just for me? The driver you hate the most?” He laughs. “Get all wet for the guy you couldn’t care less about. Say you hate me and get my dick nice and wet the next day.” You’re grinding onto his three fingers now, shameless with it.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asks.

“Oh,” you whine. “Yeah, fuck—yes.”

“Tell me what you’re gonna do,” he says wickedly. You can hear him smile.

“I’m gonna—please—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, tension coming to a halt and then bursting all at once out of you. His other arm holds your hips down against him, and you spend a minute and another twitching, your skin sticky with sweat and slick.

It’s not long before you’re whirled back to face him, your hands making quick work of his jeans. It’s a skill you’ve both mastered, the art of the quickie—in closets, hotel rooms, with sweaty, open-mouthed kisses pressed along the column of your throat, moans swallowed. 

He hikes your dress up and your panties to the side, immediately bullies his cock into you—the glide is slow, but easy. You’re so fucking wet.

“Fucking big,” you gasp out. “Jesus, Jesus—fuck.” Your head drops and presses against his; he uses the opportunity to kiss you. You moan into it, feeling the stretch, your slick wetness dragging down the length of him as he thrusts up, up, further. “Been a while.”

“Feel good, though, yeah?” Your toes curl and you nod; you’re flushed all over and you need him to hurry up. You grind downward, onto him. He does, then, fucks you hard and fast, like he’s thirsted for this for way longer than he did. You’re squirming, all wet, and it tempts him to go harder. Your face is shiny with sweat, lips drawn in between your teeth.

“Slo—slow down,” you manage, babbling; he doesn’t, speeding up his thrusts until you’re moaning his name. “Max—wait—fuck, you’re so mean,” you whine, wrapping your arms around him and letting him take control. 

“You’re fine,” he grunts, pulling out almost all the way. “You take my dick so well, schatz, every fucking time. Don’t you?”

“I do,” you gasp out, and he’s slamming into you gain. You cry out loudly, sniffling from the overstimulation—you’d barely recovered from your initial orgasm and already you’re hurtling into what feels like three at the same time. 

“For someone who doesn’t like me,” he sneers, “you sure do moan like a slut, huh?”

His words get you more turned on than you’re willing to admit, but you shake your head.

“No?” He laughs, breathy from the effort. “Maybe I should film you now. Send it to your boss, let him see his stellar reporter’s getting Verstappen’s dick wet.” 

Finally, the tension building inside of you reaches a head, and your pussy starts to twitch around his dick. He notices, grunts sharply and leans forward, shuddering as he releases into you. Your moans are choked and tapering into whimpers as you release slick all over him, and you attempt to catch your breath, collapsing onto his still-clothed, now-sticky chest. You scratch at the dri-fit material and inhale him, the smell of his cologne, his sweat. You bite at his earlobe, laugh when he flinches.

“That,” you say into his skin, “was the last time.” It’s both seriously and as a joke, playing off of what he’d remarked earlier.

“Jesus, princess. I’m still inside you.” 

You giggle and drum lightly along the plane of his chest. In a few minutes he’ll pick you up to shower, but now you’re content to inhale him in. Quietly you wonder why you just can’t get enough of him—if you were in better senses, you’d have realized he was thinking the same thing about you.

[hansensgirl]

summary. | Natasha reunites with her fuck-buddy.

warnings. | SMUT, use of a strap-on, mild dom/sub elements, friends-with-benefits/fuck-buddy relationship, pet names, praise, mild degradation, slight overstimulation, scissoring, dirty talk, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

pairing. | Natasha Romanoff x fem!fuck-buddy!reader.

author’s note. | happy pride month! here’s a little concept. enjoy! no beta, all mistakes are my own. taglist: @hansensfics. MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY!

Red hair. Red in her ledger. Reddish lips. Red dress. Red is everywhere.

You know there are different names for different shades, but you just umbrella-term them all—Natasha.

Even the red-adjacent colours are Natasha. Pink and blood orange, even purple made from complete scratch.

Natasha knows all about your little red-habit. She’s even developed her own, too. Whenever she sees red, she thinks of you thinking of her. And that makes her cheeks turn a subtle red, since she’s been trained well. Never let them into your mind.

She’s smug about it. You think it’s on purpose, since her new strap is red, and she has a grin on her face as she plows into you.

The usually pristine bed is wrinkled mess underneath you. You grip onto the sheets tightly, and when you focus enough, you catch a whiff of Natasha’s laundry detergent. You two rarely make it onto the mattress when she visits, always ending up on the floor, against the wall, or on the couch.

She always has you stay here whenever she’s away. If you told your other friends about this, they would call your dynamic with the redhead something she swears it isn’t.

Natasha’s strap-on drives into you with such passion and desperation, her skill bleeding through it all as she expertly fucks you. Your loud moans fill the room, and they’re music to your fuck-buddy’s ears.

“Yeah, that’s it. What a good little slut,” she chuckles, admiring your blown-out eyes and slacked jaw. Her words have you whimpering, a mild pout to your lip—the sight is both cute and sexy. “Aw, poor baby,” Natasha coos in faux-sympathy, punctuating her words with thrusts.

Her demeanour falters for a bit, when she rolls her hips to increase your pleasure. Her aching clit receives some friction, making her let out a soft moan. She cannot wait until you’re a complete fucked-out mess, desperate and begging her to let you eat her out. That’s one of her favourite parts.

Your tits bounce with Natasha’s every thrust. You try to keep your legs open, but the amount of euphoria that shoots through your body makes it difficult to do so.

She blesses you with the push and pull of her hips, grazing against your sweet spot as she brings you closer to your high. Her warm hands hold onto your waist, fingertips sinking into your skin. Natasha’s nails are polished red, all for the sake of a mission that saved innocent lives and ended harmful ones.

“‘S so good,” you slur, voice sounding like a whimper. The tone, along with the squelching sounds of your sopping cunt, make Natasha’s ego swell. “You like this, petal? Hm? You like getting fucked like a slut?” she asks.

You can’t form any proper words, so you just nod your head and mewl. Her words make your pussy clench. Gasps leave your throat as that familiar feeling begins to build up inside you. You ascend the high quickly, and one of Natasha’s hands move downwards to rub your clit.

Her mildly-rough fingertips add just the right amount of friction to your swollen nub, pushing you over the edge as you cry out. Your back arches off the bed, and Natasha’s plump lips meet yours in a steamy kiss.

Her red lipstick has already left smudges along your body and face, a sight to behold. In her mind, she cannot wait to get her private phone out and snap a few pictures. You try to keep up with her mouth as it moves against yours, tongue pushing inside, and Natasha practically takes your breath away.

Your fuck-buddy swallows up your pornographic sounds, dragging her hips in a way that allows you to ride your orgasm out and feel everything.

Your cunt hugs her strap-on tightly, coating the material with your slick. “Good girl,” she exhales, an almost love-drunk smile on her face once she pulls away from the kiss. You grin at the praise, preening under Natasha’s intense gaze.

“Wanna give me one more?” she teasingly questions, slowing her thrusts. She caresses your swollen pearl. You’ve already came for her more than once—on her fingers a few times before she split you open. You contemplate it as her touches become more and more insistent, yet tormenting. Before you can even answer, Natasha makes the decision for you.

She slowly pulls out of your pussy, admiring how you’ve left her strap glistening. You manage to lean forward and get on your knees. You help her take her fake cock off before locking eyes with the redhead, your mouth opening and tongue stretching out.

Your clean up the mess you’ve made on Natasha’s strap, revelling in the taste of your cunt. The sensual scene makes Natasha’s clit throb, and you can feel yourself aching once again. Her breathing becomes heavy, but she doesn’t stop you for one second.

You make a show of it, humming in delight until she’s had enough of your shenanigans. She pulls the strap-on away and pushes you onto your back once again, climbing on top of you. She straddles your legs, and your stomach fills with butterflies in excitement.

Natasha’s wet cunt rests on your thigh, and vice-versa. The feeling of her hot flesh against your skin makes you whimper. She grabs hold of your hip with one hand, and uses the other to play with your body.

“Dirty, dirty girl,” she chides, gyrating her hips as she scissors with you. She cups your chin and lightly slaps your face, loving how you look completely gone.

“You need me so bad, dontcha?” Natasha smirks, picking up the pace. Your dripping pussy rubs against her thigh, whimpers leaving your mouth. “Uh-huh, need you so bad,” you mewl, meeting her movements.

Her head tilts back, red hair cascading down her back just a bit. She’s let it grow out a bit, but you know she’ll cut and dye it another colour soon. You never really mind, but you always prefer her natural shade.

Your hands reach up, moving along her toned abs and cupping her breasts. She’s beautiful—truly a sight to behold. She takes charge, though, pinching your nipples and groping you whenever she feels like.

You become a mess beneath her, climax building up again. You know her’s is impending, too, with the way her mouth drops open and her grinding speeds up a bit. The shared slick-sounds fill the room, as well as the smell of sex and your collective moans.

It’s almost poetic—how you both come undone at the same time. You try your hardest to keep going, euphoria seizing your muscles.

Your hips buck upwards to meet Nat’s, and she gasps as the waves of her orgasm crash down. Her eyes squeeze shut, her nails sink into your skin a little, the sting adding the perfect amount of pain to your pleasure.

You gasp as you slowly come down from your high. The stars in your vision dissipate, and your heart clamours in your chest.

Natasha leans over you, moving closer. Her breasts rub against yours as she uses your body for her satisfaction. You take gratification in this, part of you wishing you could be nothing but her plaything for the rest of your life.

Before your thoughts run too wild, she captures you into a searing kiss once again, taking complete control. She lets you breathe every now and then, letting out groans and sighs of satisfaction, before she resumes her actions.

You squeeze your eyes tightly, seeing a bit of red in the darkness. Natasha is always there—she’s everywhere. But you prefer her on top of you, making you feel the most sinful of things. Things you savour as precious, sensual memories full of red-hot passion.

[thriftedtchotchkes]

body language

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel shows up at your place in the middle of the night with a camcorder and an idea

warnings: 18+ MDNI, no outbreak, soft-dom!joel, soft!joel, sex tape, established relationship, smut, unprotected piv, size kink, praise kink, overstimulation, fingering, rough sex, mild camera anxiety, moodboard for aesthetics only

word count: 7.4k

“Joel? It’s two o’clock in the morning, you alright?”

He never calls this late. He’s never even up this late. Joel’s a creature of habit—asleep by midnight and up, bright and early, at seven. Yet, it’s still his name lighting up your phone and illuminating the pitch black of your bedroom, waking you out of a near-dead sleep. 

It takes him a moment to reply and, for a second, you think maybe he’s been out drinking with his contractor buddies. But that’s not like him, especially on a weeknight. 

When his voice finally filters through the speaker, he sounds…off. His deep drawl is lower than usual, thick with something syrupy and heady that you’d probably be able to place if you weren’t teetering on the cusp of consciousness.

“Be better if I was there with ya.”

Oh.

Now, you’re awake. The barely concealed intention in his tone and words is unmistakable, and now you know exactly why he’s calling you at two in the morning on a weeknight. Because he hasn’t seen you in weeks, and he’s horny. 

Heat licks at the base of your spine, and you get it. It's been a while since he’s been in your bed, and you're horny, too. You lean over to retrieve your phone from the nightstand, and your pilling flannel sheets slip down to your bare thighs, exposing your feverish skin to the brisk autumn air drifting in through a cracked window. It feels like the sweetest relief—you usually run hot when you sleep, but it’s nothing like this.

Switching the call off speaker, you unconsciously lean into the small screen as if it were him. A photo of Joel, soaked and covered in sand at the beach last year, flashes up at you and your lips brush against it as you murmur into the mic.

"If you wanted it bad enough, then you would be," you tease, your voice sultry and still heavy with sleep. You settle onto your back, kicking the sheets further down the bed so you can splay your fingers low on your stomach. They dip just slightly under the waistband of your underwear, closer to where you hope you'll need them soon. "So? Tell me how bad you want it."

You've never done the phone sex thing with Joel before, but if that's what he's looking for, then you're more than happy to play along. Every hushed sigh and bit-back groan, you want to hear it all. To let the gentle vibration of it in your ear reverberate through your body, feeding your arousal until it’s humming between your legs.

It’s been way too long. This might hold you over for now, but after tonight, you're going to need the real thing. Your boyfriend, close enough to touch, instead of a crackling, disembodied voice.

But, before you can even begin, your call is abruptly halted by a hard knock at the door. You shoot up, ripping your hand out of your underwear to rest over your racing heart. 

No one’s ever at your door at this hour, and the fact that someone is either spells trouble or a mistake. Part of you is relieved that you’re on the phone with Joel in case there’s actual danger out there, but another nagging part really wants to ignore the interruption. You’ve got better things to do. 

But you investigate, anyway. Better safe than sorry, right? Then, you can enjoy whatever Joel’s got planned for you to the fullest.

"Jesus, what...hold on, I think there’s someone outside," you whisper harshly into the phone as you slide out of bed, creeping as quietly as you can to the front door. "I'll be right back, I’m gonna go—“

To your surprise, Joel continues on anyway, undeterred by the commotion and the obvious alarm in your voice. But he sounds strange again, almost like he’s echoing. 

“Want it real bad."

You grip your phone tighter as you struggle to hear what he's saying, but you’re too distracted by the chaos unfolding around you to focus. He’s acting so out of character. Seriously, what the hell is going on? You have no idea why this night’s been so out of wack, but it's starting to get a little too weird for your liking.

“Uh, say that again?"

The call drops and you're left staring at your home screen, feeling confused as hell. That is, until you hear those same words in that familiar, deep drawl coming from the other side of the door. 

There's no way. 

You unlock it without bothering to look through the peephole, opening it to find a very disheveled Joel leaning against the doorframe. His face is already so close to yours like he’s been waiting for you to come to him, eagerly. Impatiently. 

The scent of his favorite spearmint gum fans over your face, and you subconsciously drag your tongue along your bottom lip in anticipation. His eyes follow the action, captivated by every minute movement you make, and you can tell how much just being in your presence is affecting him. The intensity in his gaze would make you feel nervous if it wasn’t for the obvious want simmering below the surface. 

God, why does all of this feel so potent? You’re panting...when did that even start? It’s suddenly hotter than the stifling warmth under your sheets, despite being half-naked in your open doorway, but it feels good. Right. Because he’s breathing as heavily as you are.

There’s no traces of beer or whiskey on his breath. So, he's completely sober, then. Whatever you were hearing in his voice, that wild look in his eyes, completely overtaken by his blown pupils—he’s not drunk on any of that. Only on thoughts of you. Your breath hitches when he speaks again, in person this time.

"Don't think I need to repeat myself, do I?"

Your eyes drop to the intimidating tent in his sweatpants before darting up to meet his.

"No, I believe you," you breathe out.

And, god, do you.

Adrenaline floods your veins as he lurches forward to kiss you, and, finally, you get to taste that dizzying combination of mint and Joel. The coolness of it on your tongue does little to quell the heat spreading from your lips down to where you need him most.

His hands immediately find purchase where yours were just moments before, sliding up your sides under your oversized sleep shirt—his shirt. He cups the soft skin of your breasts, and you moan wantonly into his mouth, suddenly desperate to be bare in front of him.

But he ignores the bunched-up fabric shielding you from his view. He actually seems pleased by the sight of it on your body and the scent of himself still lingering on your skin. You haven't washed it since he left it here, and you can tell it’s stoking something primal in him. Something he's left unchecked since the last time he was with you that threatens to consume him. Shit, you can hear it in his voice.

“Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about ya,” he mumbles against your lips, heavy lines marring his brow as if the thought of not being able to have you for so long physically pained him. “Been up all damn night…haven’t been able to think about anything else all goddamn night.”

He thumbs over a nipple while he tweaks the other, hard enough to startle a gasp out of you, and, oh, he likes that. The blunt outline of his hardening cock is insistent against your hip, but he holds himself back from grinding into you. Even as his body reacts without his permission, he’s still choosing to prioritize your pleasure first.

“You got no idea, the things m’gonna do to you tonight. Gonna treat you right, pretty girl, give ya everything you deserve.”

Your heart stutters, and you practically preen at his praise. This fucking man. You swallow his words greedily, pressing your lips into his hard enough to bruise, and the kiss descends into desperation and an unexpected need to hear more. You want more of those sweet, filthy words, to see what they really mean when he finally delivers on them. And all you have to do is ask.

“Then, give it to me.”

He parts from you with a lewd smack, a string of saliva hanging between you. You use the brief respite to take him in, your eyes roving over his tousled curls and the flush that’s quickly traveling down his neck and spreading across his chest. 

He’s so fucking beautiful, and…and why aren’t your hands on him right now? He’s been standing there for minutes, or hours, you can’t even tell anymore. Yet, when you reach out to touch him, he catches your hand in midair. His grip is gentle yet firm, the side of his mouth quirking down as he raises an eyebrow, and you feel like you’re being scolded.

"Oh, honey. I know you can ask nicer than that,” he mutters, lifting it to his lips and softly kissing your palm. 

There's a sense of authority in the way he says it, contradictory to the saccharine nature of his words. You're starting to realize you're not in control—that, tonight, what he says goes—but it feels safe. You know he'll take good care of you.

He gives your breast an encouraging squeeze as his other hand snakes further down to palm your ass, pulling your hips into his so you can feel all of him. This is what you'll get if you're a good girl, he's telling you. 

You bite back a whine, gazing up at him through your lashes, wetting your lips before you try again. His way.

"Please." 

Your voice quivers around the singular syllable that guarantees you’ll get what you need. 

“There's my sweet girl. Just need’ta be reminded sometimes, don’t ya?” 

He nods his head slowly, commandingly, while he asks the question, and you mimic him. You can feel yourself slipping, drowning in him and this feeling of security. You can’t help it, and you don’t want to.

He leans in to press his lips against yours again, devouring you in a way that feels less hungry and more exploratory, like he’s mapping you out. Filing away everything that makes your breath hitch and your eyelids flutter. He’s not immune to you, though. That much is obvious.

There's a growing wet patch on the front of his sweatpants, and you belatedly realize he didn’t bother putting on boxers before he left his house. He rubs damply against your stomach, just below your belly button, but he’s still not nearly close enough to where you need him. You don’t even know why his pants are still on. They really shouldn’t be.

Then, that same cool breeze and the delicate sound of crunchy, autumn leaves blowing along the sidewalk reminds you why. The front door is still wide open, leaving you standing in your underwear, and Joel with his hand up your shirt, in full view of anyone passing by. Not that they would at this time of night, but the thought is still a little thrilling. But not enough for Joel to leave it open any longer.

He pushes you further into your apartment, kicking the door shut behind him, and leads you backward to your bedroom. God, you can’t wait to see him—his tanned, sun-weathered skin and sparse smattering of freckles. 

There’s too many layers between you and if your body isn’t pressed against his soon, you might actually lose your mind. You’ve never been this desperate for him before, but there’s something about the way he’s acting tonight. 

This unfamiliar headspace you’re in…fuck, it feels good. You’re trusting him to make up for those weeks apart and, even more so, to dictate your pleasure in ways that are totally new to your relationship. You’ll do what he tells you, you’ll moan for him, you’ll cum for him. He knows what’s best for you.

Your clothes come off first. Your shirt is pulled up and over your head, and then he bends to tug down your underwear, letting it drop soundlessly to the floor. Next go his shoes, then his socks, leaving a trail of fabric from the living room, all the way to your bed. 

It’s so sensual—surprisingly so—even though it’s something you do all the time. But tonight, he’s handling you with such rapt attention. His eyes never leave yours as each article of clothing falls to the plush, blue-patterned carpet beneath your feet.

You’re so naked. Compared to him, still clad in his jacket, t-shirt, and pants, you feel…exposed. Vulnerable. Maybe that’s the point. You approach him carefully, waiting for his permission to touch him, and he smiles softly.

“C’mere, baby. Could use a little help here,” he reassures you, reaching out to take your hand. But instead of letting you undress him, he guides it over the thick bulge in his sweatpants. 

His fingers close around yours and, together, you squeeze him. Your eyes shoot up to gauge his reaction, but other than a nearly inaudible sigh and pinched brows, he’s not showing any other signs of being affected at all. 

Craving more, you grind the palm of your hand into him, relishing the warmth of his cock as it pulses the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat in your grasp. He hisses out a breath, his hand tensing over yours, and a flash of pride lances through you. 

Yes. Gotcha.

But your satisfaction is short-lived. To your disappointment, he tugs your hand away, but he doesn't separate from you completely. Instead, he slides it up past the softness of his stomach to rest on his chest. It rumbles softly under your touch as he speaks, except, they’re not necessarily the words you want to hear.

“No more of that. S’about you right now,” he drops his forehead to yours, fixing you with a stern look. “Later, alright? When I’m fuckin’ ya, you can touch me as much as you want.”

Shit. You clench down hard, suddenly hyperaware of the wetness between your legs and the feeling of devastating emptiness. You want it now, but you still have no idea what his plans are. 

If you’re a brat about it, he’ll probably make you wait even longer, and, anyway, that’s not what you want to be tonight. You want to be good for him. 

His broad hands spread across your waist as he tilts his head to kiss your cheek, then the underside of your jaw. Without warning, he sucks hard, likely leaving a mark you’ll have to cover up tomorrow before work. You hope he leaves more.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble remorsefully, shivering in his arms as his thumbs begin to rub soothing circles into your skin. “I can wait—I…I’ll be better.”

“S’okay, baby, I know ya will,“ he replies, dragging his lips down to your shoulder. “Just keep goin’. You’re doin’ so good.”

Finally, you push his jacket off his shoulders and it joins the rest of your clothes, hitting the floor with a solid thunk. The noise startles you enough to clear some of that comfortable haze, and you slowly pull back, eyeing him curiously. 

That’s…way louder than it should’ve been. It’s his fall coat so it barely weighs a thing, even with his phone and wallet in his pockets. 

But he doesn’t seem surprised at all. His face is unreadable except for the hint of a smirk, and he doesn’t look like he’s about to talk anytime soon. 

You bend down to pick it up, your eyes still on his, and you were right. It’s heavier than it should be by a long shot, and you’re honestly a little taken aback that you didn’t notice it earlier. But, in all fairness, you weren’t noticing much of anything earlier, save for Joel’s hands and lips on your body.

Reaching into his pocket, your fingers brush against something clunky and metallic. It’s not his phone. There’s too many moving pieces, and it’s at least three times its size. 

When the mystery item is finally revealed, your jaw drops. Joel can be a pretty spontaneous guy when he wants to be, but this? You never saw this coming.

In your hand sits a goddamn camcorder. An honest-to-god video camera that was just sitting in his pocket with no discernible reason for being there. 

While you wait for him to explain, the gadget begins to feel heavier by the second, just the idea of it burning a hole right through your palm. But you know you don’t need him to. You’re not a child, and, in the back of your mind, you already know exactly why it’s there. This is the reason he came here.

That pretty, hazy brain fog halts briefly, just long enough for you to get some answers. You want to hear him say it.

“You said you’d give me everything I deserve, right? I think I deserve an explanation,” you say, forgoing the pleasantries he asked of you earlier. 

You’re fighting not to sound weak, to emulate his authoritative tone, but your heart is pounding and you already sound out of breath. Fucking hell, this man. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on in your life, and he knew this would happen. 

Judging by the way his eyes darken and rove over your naked curves, he’s painfully aware of it. You watch dumbfounded as his patience runs out, and he discards his shirt and sweatpants. Now that his secret’s out, he doesn’t want to wait anymore, either.

You bite down hard on your bottom lip, and your hands clench into fists at your sides to keep yourself from reaching out and touching him, but it feels impossible. It’s right there—his cock, leaking and flushed red at the tip from neglect. 

It jerks under your heated gaze, and he exhales sharply through his nose, wrapping his hand tightly around the base. He's clearly struggling as much as you are. Then, he moves closer, all but crowding you into the edge of the bed, and you can feel it pulsing against your bare skin. 

“Here’s the deal, pretty girl—you’re gonna cum s’many times as I want you to, and this here’s gonna record it all,” he drawls, holding out his hand for the camera. You acquiesce without any more questions. “Waited too damn long to see you like this and that ain’t happenin’ again.”

His other hand cups your cheek to trace your bottom lip with his thumb, and your lips part around an almost imperceptible gasp. To anyone else but him, at least. 

“You gonna let me?”

You nod quickly, praying your eyes convey all of the want you’re feeling and none of the nerves. 

“Yeah,” you answer, breathlessly. “I’ll let you.”

But he sees right through you. The apprehension in your voice is too apparent, and he clocks it on the spot. His eyes instantly soften. He tugs you into his arms and holds you close, nosing into the hair just above your ear. Relieved, you sag into his familiar embrace. 

“If this ain’t okay with you, we stop right here. Alright? We don’t do anythin’ you're not a hundred percent sure you want,” and he sounds attentive and so earnest. 

His bare skin feels so warm against yours, and you allow it to remind you of everything he promised you. Of all of the things he’s about to do to you, for you, and the tape that’ll capture it all. For yours and Joel’s eyes only, whenever you need it. And you know you will eventually. 

Rubbing your cheek into his chest, you close your eyes and take a minute to let the calming beat of his heart make you feel less nervous. This is an entirely different kind of reminder, one that reassures you that you trust this man with everything you’ve got. You’re sure of your answer.

“I want this, Joel,” you murmur, slowly opening your eyes to meet his, commanding his full attention. “I promise you, I want this so fucking badly.”

That flips the switch. He swaps your positions in the blink of an eye, looping his arm around your middle to drag you up the bed until his back is against the headboard with you between his legs. 

“Don't need'ta be shy. You’re beautiful, baby, that’s all it’s gonna see,” he breathes out, his voice thick with affection and want.

He bends you both forward, his chest solid against your back, to set the camcorder onto the sheets, and tosses a few pillows behind it to prop it up. Something intimidating clicks just as Joel tilts the preview screen toward you. 

It’s on. Brightly lit and reflecting back a depraved mirror image of you and Joel, naked and panting and needy. 

Okay. Okay, here we go. Another click, and then a red light blips next to the lens. 

It’s recording. 

The light flashes steadily, and you can feel your body tensing with every strobe. Come on, loosen up. It’s just a piece of metal. A very…scary piece of metal that’s watching your every move. Your thighs tremble from a confusing mix of arousal and nerves, and you start to feel embarrassed. 

You can see yourself on the little screen, feeling small yet secure in Joel’s arms, but you’re too focused on the camera’s attention on you to relax. As if he can tell you’re about to shrink into yourself, Joel distracts you. You haven’t told him to stop or asked him to turn it off, and he knows you would if this became too much.

"See what I mean?" He smoothes his hands down your thighs, carefully parting your legs. He gives you every chance to close them, but you don’t. "Fuckin' perfect, just like I told ya."

You try harder to see what he sees, what you're praying the camera sees. He's so free with his compliments and praise, you want to believe you deserve them.

"Prettiest pussy I've ever seen," he mutters tightly under his breath, his fingers massaging the tense muscles in your thighs. "From now on, m'gonna get to see this whenever I want. See myself fuckin' you whenever I can't."

Once you catch sight of your glistening heat reflected back at you, you help him spread your legs even further, watching as your cunt visibly clenches in response. 

Oh. Oh...look at you.

You get it now, why he wants this on film. You’re captivated by yourself, by the way Joel bites back a groan and his body seizes up as he fights not to rut into you. You’d love to be able to see that again. 

But then his fingers finally press deliciously into your clit and any lingering anxiety completely fades away. You barely even register his lips brushing against your ear, checking in before he continues with everything he’s about to put you through.

“Doin’ alright?” he murmurs between damp kisses against your neck. That tranquil haze begins to settle in again as he mouths wetly at your skin, the coarse drag of his beard a familiar comfort.

“Mhm,” you hum before your head lolls back onto his shoulder, and you slip completely. “S'good...feels good.”

“That's my girl,” he breathes tenderly, rewarding you with more pressure, pressing down harder on your clit.

The slick friction is heady and so effective that all you can do is give in as your hips swivel into his touch of their own accord. He's taking such good care of you, attuned to every gasp, the quickening rise and fall of your breasts.

You tilt your head to observe his expression. It's your only indication of what he’s feeling since he’s still refusing to allow himself to react to you physically.

He's breathtaking, looking like a man starved with his parted lips and pitch-black eyes, locked on where his fingers are slipping through the mess he’s making of your pussy. He must feel you watching him because he suddenly smirks, snaking a hand up your body to cup your breast. 

Your eyes squeeze shut and you mewl, pretty and perfect for the camera, your hips bucking clear off his lap when he begins to languidly massage the soft curve. You're getting so close already and your entire body quakes with it, your thighs trembling violently against his as he swirls tighter, faster circles into your swollen clit.

“Joel…ngh—Joel, I’m...fuck, m’gonna cum,” you whimper into his neck, grabbing his thighs to anchor yourself. "C-can I? Please."

“I know, baby, I can feel it. C’mon, give it to me,” he rasps, your demand from earlier falling raggedly from his lips. "Show the camera how hard ya cum for me."

Then, he pinches your nipple hard between his thumb and calloused middle finger, and you’re gone. Your orgasm crashes over you in a blissful wave, your stomach tensing intermittently with every gushing pulse of your cunt, and he doesn’t let up. Not until you’ve ridden his hand through your aftershocks, and slump into his chest, completely spent.

“That’s one, pretty girl.”

That’s…one? He’s counting them? You’re struggling to understand, to even focus on what he’s saying, but he doesn’t leave you wondering for long.

"You're gonna give me four, alright?” His fingers shift from your chest to your chin, tilting your head up to face him. The look in his eyes tells you to listen because he means this. “Want ya to cum on my fingers three times before you cum on my cock. Can ya do that for me?"

Christ. Your eyes dart from the attentive device, still recording every move and reaction you make, back to his. Can you? You’re not even sure if that’s possible, and your bottom lip trembles as you start to overthink it. 

You’ve never orgasmed that many times in a row, not with him or by yourself, and yet, he sounds so sure that you can. That he can make you. His thumb gently strokes your chin, and you believe him. You will.

"Yes, Joel," you find yourself nodding obediently, and you're thrilled at how pleased he looks. 

He leans down to kiss away your worries, swallowing your surprised squeal as his fingers waste no time starting up those insistent swirls on your clit again. Your hips jerk away from his hand, but he only smiles against your lips, his strong arms holding you in place.

It’s way too much, nearly overwhelming you, and you whimper into his mouth at the oversensitivity. Your floor muscles clench painfully as you continue to try and recover from your last one, but you don’t stop him. You give into him so easily, letting his adoration and sheer desire fuel you.

“That's it. You can take it, I know ya can,” he encourages, pulling away from your lips to gaze down at you in awe. "Look at my girl...so damn responsive tonight. Listenin' so well."

You can’t help the satisfaction blooming in your chest, gasping in relief as the sensitivity begins to subside into intense pleasure. His eyes drop between your legs as your hips start to chase his touch, and yours quickly follow.

“Shit,” he mutters, his voice tighter than it has been all night. “You get so fuckin’ wet when ya cum. Makin' the prettiest mess.”

His middle and ring fingers abruptly slip from rubbing merciless circles into your clit down to your entrance, plunging inside you, and god, it's exactly what you need. His fingertips drag against your sensitive walls, stroking something repeatedly that steals your breath away, and your pussy flutters around him. 

He mimics the soft sound but it trails off, dropping to something deeper that rumbles in his chest, and his slow, purposeful thrusts turn aggressive. His fingers hook inside you, and your eyes roll back, lips parting around desperate, choked-out words he'll watch back and probably cum to.

"...t-there, there. Please...don't stop—," you keen, your voice catching every time your hips buck to meet his hand. "—n-need more. Please, Joel, I...c-can you...?"

That gorgeous smirk returns, his face alight with pride. He's so proud of you.

“Beautiful and polite, Christ. Whatever you want,” his fingers don’t let up, and he looks mesmerized by how slick and easy he slides in and out. “Keep askin’ nice like that and I’ll give ya anything.”

Adding a third finger, he starts to fuck into you in earnest, ramming against something deep inside you as his palm slaps repeatedly against your clit. You see stars. Your vision begins to blur, and you’re positive you’re moaning louder than you should be this late at night, but you can’t focus on anything else but the wet squelching of your pussy around him. 

You should probably feel at least a little ashamed, but your warming cheeks have nothing to do with the noise and everything to do with the wrecked, stuttered moans in your ear, and Joel’s cock rutting into your ass in time with his fingers.

He's finally losing his composure. That careful self-restraint he's tried so hard to maintain, slowly but surely being dismantled. He clearly doesn’t care anymore, and he wants you to know it.

"Feel that? S'what ya do to me,” he grits through his teeth, his head dropping to your shoulder to watch as he smears precum messily across your skin. You unintentionally squeeze his fingers at his words, and he groans raggedly. "Fuckin'...tight—Christ, ya just keep gettin' tighter. Think m’gonna fit?"

You shake your head furiously, already feeling too full around his fingers, but your body betrays you, grinding down onto his cock before you can stop yourself. He exhales sharply at your reaction, bucking into you a little harder than he means to, and for a moment, you think maybe he likes the idea that he's too big for you. That your pussy's just too tight to take him right now.

That little red light still gleaming next to the ever-observant mechanical eye in front of you would probably love to witness that. A filthy, intimate image of you caught between intense pleasure and pain, forever preserved.

"No?” he murmurs, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “S'okay, baby, we'll make it fit. Don't'chu worry."

It hits you like a freight train, your second orgasm catching both of you by surprise and knocking the wind completely out of you. He wrenches his fingers out of your heat so he can wrap his arms tightly around you, keeping you from knocking over the camera as you writhe in his lap. It's overwhelming, somehow even more intense than the first, but the sensitivity sets in quicker.

Your nails dig sharply into his arms, and he hisses in a breath behind you. You're scared you might be hurting him, but you're having trouble controlling your limbs as immense amounts of dopamine flood your system, so you scrabble against the damp sheets instead.

Fuck, you can’t. It's too much. He’s still moving beneath you, the slide of his cock against your skin made easier by the slick dripping between your legs, and you’re not even sure he realizes he’s doing it. You want to do this for him so badly, but you're not sure how much more you can take. 

One more. You can take one more. Then, he's yours.

Sensing your discomfort, he holds you through it, lets you ride it out until you’re whimpering softly in his arms. But all he offers is a brief, sweet moment of respite before his fingers return to your cunt. He mindfully avoids your clit as he slowly sinks two fingers back inside you, and, now, even you can feel how tight you are. Each one of his knuckles catches on your entrance and rubs you purposefully, if not a little painfully.

"How's that feel, baby? Talk to me.”

It aches. It’s so much. It’s not enough. The warring sensations between your legs intensify the deeper he plunges into you, but, this time, the sensitivity doesn’t ebb. Instead, it amplifies everything. You can feel him keenly, sweat and oppressive heat pooling everywhere your bodies connect, and you melt into it. Into him. 

"S'good...keep—," you accidentally clench around him, and your breath hitches at the dull throb that wracks your lower half, "—k-keep going. Want more.”

“Fuck. Such a good girl...so fuckin' good,” he breathes heavily behind you, grunting his pleasure into your shoulder every time your hips try to escape insistent strokes. It's not just the steady grind of his cock between your ass cheeks that’s getting him off. You can see the playful sparkle in his eyes on the screen, regardless of how small his image is. He's enjoying the chase. 

You think he could even cum like this, playing this dangerous game with you. It's then that you realize you like it, too. You both know how close you are to earning your reward, so agonizingly near, you can taste it. And he can feel you around his fingers, tensing and relaxing, beginning to adapt to the unbearable soreness as your orgasm quickly approaches.

"Almost there, baby. S'a lot, I know, but you're takin' it so well,” he groans encouragingly. You can hear the subtle anticipation in his voice. He’s a wreck behind you, all but fucking into your skin as he adds a third finger and increases his speed. You let out a pained moan together at the resistance. "Hurts, huh? Lemme make it better, pretty girl. Tell me what ya need."

“M-my clit, please…please,” you beg him. Politely, nicely, kindly, whatever he wants. It’s still swollen and rubbed raw despite how wet you’ve been all night, but, fuck, you need it. Just a gentle touch would be enough to send you over the edge. That’s all it’ll take.

And that’s exactly what he gives you. Three barely-there swirls with his thumb, and you’re screaming, cumming around him so hard, you’re almost worried you’ll break his fingers. Your spasming floor muscles are unforgiving, convulsing violently as you cream into the palm of his hand, but this time he doesn’t wait for it to subside. 

The internal pressure suddenly disappears and everything tilts on its axis. You’re being shifted, lifted higher by two strong arms encircling your waist, and something big—god, it feels huge—nudges at your abused hole. Joel’s speaking, but whatever he’s saying is too difficult to make out over the blood roaring in your ears. It sounds urgent. Impatient. He sounds needy.

He lowers you just a hair, and the stretch around his tip feels impossible. You were right. He's not going to fit, and the thought makes you want to cry. He has to. You need him to.

"...baby...baby," his voice finally cuts through the fog. He's shaking, trembling like a leaf all around you, but refusing to move until you can hear him. You realize he's been asking you a question, and he needs your answer now. "Need'ta be inside you. Christ, I—m'not gonna be gentle. I...can't, I can't anymore. Gonna fuck you hard, s'that okay? Can ya take me?"

He gives you a little more, a preview of what's to come before you make your decision, and it fucking hurts. It's also the most incredible thing you've ever felt. 

More. You said you wanted more, and you meant it. You nod frantically, whining your assent, but it's not enough. He needs you to say it.

"Need'ya to use your words, baby. Yes?"

"Yes," you choke out around a sob, wriggling in his arms to get him to move faster. He exhales sharply through his nose, the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat pulsing in his chest and cock.

"Yes."

It's the last warning you get before he drives into you in a single, earth-shattering thrust, burying himself to the hilt. It feels like he's splitting you in half, tearing you right down the middle, and replacing every part of you with Joel, Joel, Joel. 

And he doesn't stop there, or give either of you time to adjust. He pistons into you, a wet thock-thock-thock of drenched skin against skin, and you accept it gratefully. You're delirious with the feeling of him stretching you past your limit. So full, you're so fucking full of him. It's the only thing grounding you to the present, your unyielding walls fighting to mold around him.

After hours of giving, he finally takes. He's all but snarling into your ear like a starved apex predator feasting on his prey, biting and sucking and bruising every inch of skin he can reach. Yet, he's still so full of praise for his girl. 

"Look at us, baby. Y'see that?" he growls, just loud enough for the mic to pick up the wrecked reverence in his voice. He takes your hand and guides it down until both sets of fingers are wrapped around where he's breaching your swollen cunt. You cry out at the thickness of him, the unimaginable sight of you stretched around him, gripping him. "Takin' me so well. Knew you could. Goddamn perfect woman, s'like you were made for it."

You're starting to believe it. That you were shaped in his image, created just for him. You want to return his affection, even a fraction of the praise he's given you this entire night, but you're past the capacity for speech.

The tension in your chest is making it hard to breathe, and every attempted reply is forced from your body as an incoherent string of stuttered moans and broken sobs. Nearly every other thrust punches your cervix, and you can already feel that telltale heat flooding between your legs.

You can't tell him all of the things you want to. So, you show him, instead. Your entire body goes lax in his arms except your hips and hands, and you rock forward on every upstroke, caressing his inner thighs with your thumbs. 

His lips press against the underside of your jaw as he whines desperately into your skin, subtle groans rising in frequency and volume the longer you continue your ministrations. You can feel his stomach tensing behind you, and his grip tightens like he's either trying to stave off his release or anchor himself for when he inevitably erupts. He's so fucking close to the edge, now, you can tell.

He can, too. But he needs you to get there first. 

Your hips are already starting to buck into his, and he takes that as the go-ahead to give you more. A sign that your body can handle everything he has left. His arms unravel from around you, and he slows his pace to a deep, heady grind that sets your body ablaze. 

He snakes one hand up your stomach to cup a breast while the other drops to rub sloppy circles into your overstimulated bundle of nerves, and you cry out at the sudden onslaught of sensations. Your eyes dart to the camcorder as it builds and builds, in your chest, at the base of your spine, and against that spot deep inside you that has you fluttering around him. You promised one more, and you're ready to put on a show it'll never forget.

But that's the opposite of what Joel wants. He delivers a sharp slap to your clit to get your attention.

"Look at me, baby. Don't look at the camera," he grits out. You whine, turning your head to face him, your expression pleading with him to keep doing that. He acquiesces with a smirk, slapping it again, purposefully and repeatedly to punctuate his demands. 

"Ya look at me when you cum, alright?" 

Slap. 

"Nowhere." 

Slap. 

"Else." 

His hand collides with your cunt a little harder, and even he moans at the contact. 

Slap.

"Ya don't close your eyes, ya don't look away. Wanna see those pretty eyes when I fill you up."

He releases your breast to grip your chin between his thumb and index finger, holding you in place.

"C'mon, pretty girl. Cum for me."

Then, his assault really begins. He jerks into motion, his hips slamming into yours frantically, matching the sweet, torturous pace of his fingers' rough touch. 

Everything goes fuzzy. You feel its steady approach, a surprisingly gentle wave that trickles from where the head of his cock meets your depths, past every sensitive pressure point to where you're gushing onto his coarse curls. But, as it peaks, you barely feel anything at all. A beat of numbness that makes you believe maybe that was all you had left in you.

A moment later, there's euphoria. You're cumming so hard, your vision blacks out, and all you can sense is your bottom half locking down and Joel sobbing into your shoulder while he empties into you, just like he promised.

He fucks you through it, quiet whimpers and murmured praise flowing uncontrollably from his lips. He tells you how tight you are, how your pussy's choking his cock and milking him dry. How good you've been and how perfect you are. He says all of it just for you, but the camera hears it, too.

For a while, he thrusts into you lazily, savoring his sensitivity and sighing through your final aftershocks. Maybe it's punishment for everything he put you through. Or maybe he just likes the syrupy pain of it. Either way, his girth nestled inside you is comforting now that you're both loose-limbed and pleasantly sticky with each other's release. 

He lets out a disappointed grunt when he eventually softens and slips out, right around the time your vision returns and the brain fog starts to clear. The flashing red light at the foot of the bed catches your attention again, and you're struck with a sudden idea. One last thing you want him to have on tape. 

Sliding haphazardly off his lap, you position yourself on your hands and knees, the camera situated with the perfect view of your core. You peek behind you, shooting a sly smile at the lens before you part your folds, allowing a thick glob of cum to leak out of your swollen cunt and drip down to your clit. Before it can fall to the sheets below, you gather up the mess with your fingers and shove it right back inside you, where it belongs.

Joel groans heavily in response, and his body finally gives out, collapsing against the headboard. You can't help but laugh, exhausted and sated, close to collapsing, yourself. Crawling back on top of him, you wrap your limbs around his neck and waist, and crash your lips messily into his.

As he returns your kiss with sleepy enthusiasm, he tugs you down flush against his chest. His hands slide down your sides to teasingly squeeze your ass, and you pull away with a gasp, intent on teasing him right back, but the bright grin on his face gives you pause. 

Now that your head is clear and you're starting to recover, you remember everything that led to this. That, after too many agonizing weeks, you finally got to have him again, in the flesh and in ways you never have before or thought you ever could. And you'll get to relive it over and over, as many times as you need on those lonely nights when he's not there to take care of you.

"I'm glad you came over," you smile softly, unwinding an arm from around his shoulders to brush back his messy curls. "I really missed you."

His grin widens, and he melts into your touch. God, he's...baffling. A total enigma. You wonder how you'll ever reconcile this man with the one on film, but, then, his eyes soften and it becomes clear. Both men love you. Both are Joel.

"Missed you, too, baby. Y'got no idea how much," he says earnestly and with so much tenderness.

"I think I got the picture," you snort affectionately, leaning down to brush your lips against his.

You kiss him again, and your tangling bodies knock over the camera just as the dead battery indicator flashes twice on the screen, then cuts to black.

thanks for reading!

[crypticminx]

Telling Felix Catton you’re pregnant <333

Felix Catton (Saltburn) x fem! Reader headcanons xo

AN: hiiii these are some headcanons I made :p im too lazy to proofread Dx if you enjoy lmk if you want part 2! Blink twice and you’ll miss the smut xx

- first of all, your relationship started out as a one night stand situation because for the love of God Felix cannot keep a woman or anyone around for more than a few months—weeks even.

- You, however, were a different situation. He saw other people, you saw other people, but the two of you always kept each other locked in the back of both of your heads. Wether you needed him as a very exciting stress reliever or he needed you to release any ounce of frustration he had, the two of you were just a simple phone call away. And not just drunk booty calls.

- The feeling of his broad shoulders pressed against your frame as he would effortlessly lift you up and pin you to the wall, whispering sweet melodies into your ears as he thrusted with all of his might to make you feel good—no, more than good. He’d never admit it, but for a girl like you, he’d give you everything, even if meant he’d have nothing. “Such a good girl,” he’d purr, feeling you melt under the sound—and for a better word, control of his asserting voice

- The two of you lovebirds were loud, extremely noisy and often torturous for the other students near your dorm, who were either trying to cram for exams or focus on non-sexual activities. You would moan without a care in the world and especially when you felt him release his seed in you for the first time, which you could only assume wasn’t planned nor talked about between the two of you. It felt too sweet, and so pure with how he breathlessly smiled at your sweaty, blushing face after the deed was done. Said smile being enough to make you fall into his little trap and roll back over into another intense round of sex

- With Felix, it was like walking on a dream that never seemed to end. You could be careless, indiscreet and whatever the hell you wanted to be. he provided you with a sense of being free from the real world and wholeheartedly invited you deep into the unrealistic life of Felix Catton.

- That dream, the very one that appeared to be endless, came crashing down. What ruined it? Two little pink lines.

- With an eyebrow piercing that adults despised, a stunning model-like body, and a reputation for tossing girls around like they were paper planes; Felix was fuck buddy material, not father material.

- Sure, he has enough money to knock you up ten times and make sure every child would be provided for, but you were you. Yes, you came from wealth but not the type of catton wealth that would probably leave a child with a ridiculously expensive live-in nanny as if it was nothing. Knowing how your parents felt, there was no way in hell they would be supportive and even just the simple thought of them meeting Felix made you cringe to the point of triggering your morning sickness again.

- You would avoid Felix like the plague you read about in your boring history textbooks and on the rare occurrence you ran into him heading out on his bike or going for a well deserved drink, you would bolt as if you had to run for your life. Facing him was just the beginning of your problems

- So when you finally mustered the courage to tell him and unfortunately for you, it had to be at the university’s sleazy lounge pub, Felix was there in all his glory and sat in his usual spot. Farleigh seemed more interested in drinking than caring about what was being said, a group of girls were scattered around the boys and obnoxiously fake laughed at whatever Felix said, and there was that new guy whose name you couldn’t remember to save your life. Oliver? You thought it was, but that clearly didn’t matter anymore. The only thing that mattered was you and Felix.

- Felix nearly chokes on his drink seeing you walk towards him, your head down and your tail between your legs. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

- You ask him to talk immediately, ignoring how content he looks. How his solemn eyes instantly sparked with life again and his bored expression turned into a relish of happiness. He was thrilled.

- “I’m pregnant.”

- He stares blankly at you, seeing you tear up as if you just admitted something horrible

- A baby? And a baby with you? Nothing about that was horrible. In fact, he often pictured a future with you, even if it seemed insane.

- i he’s not angry. In fact his thick brows soften and somehow in the midst of all the chaos of noise surrounding the two of you, his words are very clear.

- “I’m glad it’s with you.”

[megalony]

Small Mercies

As requested, this is a new Eddie Diaz imagine that I hope you will all like. Let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700

@ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @itshamleth @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: While Eddie is at work, he gets a phone call from his wife who is home with the kids. Someone is trying to break into their home.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie ran his fingers through his damp hair and gave his head a light shake, ridding the last few droplets of water from the shower. He could feel the steam clinging to his damp frame and making his work gear stick to him like a second skin.

He could feel a headache forming.

He didn't want to go to work. Eddie wasn't sure he had the energy to go to work on a double shift. He had about as much energy and willpower to get him from the bathroom to the bedroom, but he knew he had to get moving.

If he didn't want to be late to work, Eddie had to get a move on and say goodbye to his family and head down to the station in time for the shift change over.

With his hand still tangled into his damp locks, Eddie headed out of the bathroom that felt more like a sauna once he walked into the hallway.

It might of been a good idea for Eddie to take a nap this afternoon before the kids came home from school, but he had decided against it. Going for a nap during the day always made Eddie feel worse when he woke up. He found it easier to power through and go to sleep the next available night, no matter how many hours that meant he had to stay awake for.

Now it was almost tea time and he was going on shift and wouldn't be home until late tomorrow night.

"Chris, buddy I'm heading to work now." He pushed open the bedroom door and leaned against the frame, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he looked across at his boy.

Chris was laid out on the rug in front of his bed, legs kicking in the air behind him and pens scattered across the floor. He had a cake colouring book in front of him, a red pen tucked behind his ear and a deep plum pen twirling between his fingers. And his tv was on rather loud in the background playing a wide selection of music.

He lifted his head to look up at Eddie, as if only just realising his dad was in the doorway. He looked Eddie up and down, taking in his appearance and realising that he was dressed for work.

"I'm going now, I'll see you tomorrow after tea, okay?"

He dropped the pen in his hand and scratched the one from behind his ear so he could push up from the rug. His arms stretched out in front of him and he deadlocked them around Eddie's waist, burying his face in his dad's chest while Eddie leaned down to kiss the top of his curls.

"Love you."

"Love you too, be good for me." Eddie pressed a few more kisses against Chris's head before he unwound his arms and watched his boy flop back down to continue colouring.

He left the door ajar and turned round, but before he had the chance to try and head into the girl's room, Daisy already beat him to it. The four year old barrelled into his legs before he could move in any direction. Her arms bound around his legs and she tilted her head as far back as she could so she was grinning up at him with such a soft smile that it made his heart melt.

"You leaving, daddy?"

His eyes creased with a wide smile and he reached down to scoop her up into his arms, cuddling her into his chest.

"Yeah, flower, I gotta go to work. I'll be home tomorrow." He pressed a sloppy kiss to her cheek, grinning when she wriggled and squirmed in his arms and turned to kiss his cheek in return. "Be a good girl, hm? Love you." He knew he didn't have to tell any of the kids to be good, but he always did out of habit.

He set Daisy back down to her feet and shook his head when he heard her mumble "Love you more." She liked to think Eddie didn't hear her when she said that so she could have the last word, but he always heard her.

"Love you most." He watched her scuttle down the hall, presumably going to the living room so she could watch tv before dinner.

His eyes focused on the hem of his shirt which he tucked into his trousers while he headed into his and (Y/n)'s room. He could hear her humming and he already knew Rosie would be in there with her. He made his way into the room and a smirk flooded his lips when his eyes locked on his wife. He could see from her attire and her damp hair that she had just had a shower too; the light was on in the en-suite, confirming his thoughts.

(Y/n) was wearing one of Eddie's plain cotton shirts and a pair of his boxers that were glued rather shapely around her bum. And his shirt hung off her left shoulder as if giving him a sneak preview of what he was missing out on. But it was the way his shirt was bunched up over her hip and partly tucked into the boxers that made it hard to stay in control. He wanted to go over there and rip it over her head and drag the boxers down to her ankles.

He was suddenly glad he wasn't wearing his boots so he could make a quiet descent over towards (Y/n). As soon as he reached her, Eddie bound his arms tight around her waist and pulled her back into his chest. His lips attached to the side of her neck and he chuckled into her skin when she gasped and stumbled onto her back foot.

Her hands deadlocked around his wrists and her head flopped back on his shoulder. He could feel the deep breaths she took to try and calm down the panic he had rushed through her system.

"Eddie!" (Y/n) scolded quietly, slapping his wrist. He was lucky she hadn't been daydreaming or she might have screamed when he grabbed her. He was always doing his best to sneak up on her and he had gotten Chris into the same habit too.

The feeling of him breathing harshly and sucking at her neck had her knees going weak but when she looked at the watch strapped on his wrist, she knew he was going to be late if he stayed.

"I take it you're leaving now?" She turned her head to look at him but he caught her lips in a kiss instead, and she could feel his hands slip beneath her shirt. His fingertips traced over the curve of her hips causing her to shiver and she felt his fingers trace lower and dip past the waistband of his boxers she was wearing.

His shift was going to feel like a week instead of a day with (Y/n)'s image burned into his mind like this.

"Wish I wasn't." He muttered into her neck, trying his best to sink his teeth into her skin and leave a mark.

His hands squeezed her hips and he pulled back enough so that (Y/n) could turn around in his arms so she was facing him. A tender smile lit up her face and had Eddie's knees going weak and he leaned forward, diminishing the gap between them so their chests were glued together.

"Me too," Sincerity flooded her voice while she cupped Eddie's face in her hands and pecked his lips again before she tried to wriggle out of his arms so he could get ready.

It didn't work. His hands slipped lower into the boxers she wore until both hands had a grip on her bum and he stepped closer, pressing every ridge of his body against hers. When he dug his fingers into her flesh, (Y/n) rolled her lips together and pressed her nose against his cheek.

Maybe she should walk him to the door to make sure he actually left. It wouldn't do him any favours to be late to work when he had a clean track record so far.

Her lips parted into a gasp when she felt Eddie try his luck to walk her backwards towards the bed.

"If you wake her, you deal with the tantrum." (Y/n) warned with an arched brow, talking in hushed tones against his cheek before she dipped her head towards the bed.

Rosie was having a nap.

The toddler had finally settled and (Y/n) wanted to let her sleep for a bit longer before she had to wake her up for her tea. But if Eddie was going to wake her, he could take the time to settle her back down if she started to cry or get grumpy. She hadn't settled for a nap earlier at lunch so this was her first nap of the day which she desperately needed.

The one year old had been fussy all day, but she had finally managed to settle and had fallen asleep in the middle of (Y/n) and Eddie's bed. She was laid across both pillows with a teddy tucked up against her chest and a blue pacifier between her lips. And (Y/n) wasn't going to let Eddie wake her accidentally and cause (Y/n) another hour of pacing the house and rocking to try and settle her again.

Plus, if Rosie was asleep when Eddie left for work, it would cause less stress. The toddler hated it when Eddie had to leave. She would cry when he kissed her goodbye and she would reach out for him and try to follow him when he went out the door. Whereas if she woke up after he had gone, she didn't panic or get as upset.

(Y/n) cupped Eddie's face in her hands when he pulled away from her neck so he could look across at the bed. A fond smile pulled at his lips and his eyes softened when he looked at his youngest girl.

"I won't wake her." He promised against her lips before he leaned forward and stole another kiss. His tongue pushed past her lips and he leaned into the kiss until (Y/n) was tilting back at an angle. "Dios, I'd rather stay here."

"And I want you to stay, but you can't. I don't like being alone at night." (Y/n) curved her arms tighter around Eddie's neck and pushed forward so she could tuck her face against his skin.

She felt his hands give her a squeeze and he pulled her closer and attached his lips to the side of her head. He began to hum softly against her head and started to sway from side to side which made (Y/n) grin into his neck.

"I know mi amor." Eddie didn't like working nights. Not only did it screw with his body clock and mess with his sleep, it made (Y/n) nervous.

He knew she hated to be home alone. (Y/n) was naturally anxious and being home alone spiked that worry, she didn't feel safe unless someone was with her. And Eddie hated working nights because he knew (Y/n) had battled often enough with insomnia. It didn't help her panic either to be left home alone with three kids.

Insomnia heightened every sound outside. The branches tapping and rustling became intruders getting closer to the house. The wind sounded like someone whistling. The gate creaking sounded like someone coming up the drive and banging pipes in the dark sounded like someone breaking in.

"You'd better go, sweetheart." (Y/n) pecked his cheek and her eyes widened when Eddie actually unravelled himself from her. Was he actually going to walk out the door without a fuss?

Her heart softened and her lips rolled together to supress her smile when she watched Eddie move over to the bed. He planted one hand down on the cover so he could lean over Rosie and peck her temple.

"Bye baby girl."

He straightened up after running his fingers through her thin strokes of hair and headed back over to (Y/n).

"If you need me just call, I should be able to answer." He couldn't always answer the phone, but he tried his best. He would rather (Y/n) call him if something was wrong or she didn't feel great, then if Eddie didn't answer he knew to ring her as soon as he could.

(Y/n) tried to untangle herself from him again when he reached out for her because she knew he needed to leave so he wouldn't be late to the station.

But a gasp tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips when Eddie's hand reached up for the collar of her shirt that was halfway down her shoulder. With it being Eddie's shirt and two sizes too big for her, the collar was looser and easier to move. It let Eddie hook a finger into the collar and drag it further down her arm, exposing her bare chest to his prying eyes.

(Y/n) tilted her chest back just as Eddie's lips attached to her cleavage. Both her hands moved to his shoulders and she gave him a strong push until he had to reel back up and disconnect from her chest. She dragged the shirt back up her shoulder, hiding the view he had given himself which made him groan.

"Go to work before you wake the baby." Even though Rosie was one and a half now, they were inclined to calling her the baby because she was their youngest.

She gave him a gentle nudge until he was walking backwards out the room, his arms back around her waist with his elbows digging into her hips. Her hands reached up to rub across his chest and she continued to nudge him backwards while he stole kiss after kiss from her lips like it was the last time he was going to see her and he was getting his money's worth.

Eddie moved one arm behind him to unlock the front door and grab his keys from the lock. When the door opened, he begrudgingly let (Y/n) push him back until he was over the threshold like a lovesick puppy waiting outside for her.

His lips curved into a deadly smirk that flashed his teeth when (Y/n) cupped his face in her hands and tugged him down to press a feverish kiss to his lips. She let him swipe his tongue across her lower lip, begging for entrance before she pulled back, mumbling a quiet 'I love you' and 'goodbye' against his lips before giving him a final nudge out the door.

He needed to go to work and she needed to get the kid's tea ready.

***

Reaching her hand across the bed, (Y/n) feathered her fingers over the cover and up towards the pillow.

Cold. Empty.

Of course it was empty; Eddie was at work tonight. He wouldn't be back until tomorrow night, probably after the kids were all in bed by the time he finished his shift and got showered at the station before leaving.

(Y/n) didn't like the nights where Eddie worked during the night, she didn't like an empty bed. She liked to hear Eddie's soft breathing that worked as background noise to get her to sleep. She liked to feel the cover being stolen and tangled around his legs as he twisted from left to right. Or the feeling of an arm draping over her waist or a nose tickling her neck and tucking into her shoulder. All of that compared drastically to being curled up, alone in the bed.

She tucked her face down into the pillow and shuffled into the middle of the bed. It was entirely strange to have the bed to herself, without Eddie or at least one of the kids sneaking in to lay with her.

Sleep pulled at her mind as she curled up on herself, wishing the night away. (Y/n) was tired enough that it shouldn't be a problem falling asleep tonight like previous nights where she laid awake.

(Y/n) could feel her head slowly spinning and twisting from left to right in that usual manner that signalled she was going to fall asleep at any moment.

Until something shattered.

Her body jolted upright in bed and her hands scrunched up in the bedsheets. A shiver tore down (Y/n)'s spine as she tried to blink through the darkness, forcing her brain to clear from the fog rolling in and set her ears to work.

What smashed? Was it just (Y/n) imagining things? Once or twice she thought she heard something as she drifted to sleep, but Eddie had never heard it so she always presumed it was a dream about to start that woke her up.

But she knew she heard something this time. Had Chris or Daisy gotten up for a drink and dropped a glass or knocked into something? Perhaps something had happened at work and Eddie was coming home early for some reason. That didn't seem liable. Eddie hadn't been gone more than seven hours, and if he was coming home he would of called (Y/n) first.

Another rumble of glass breaking caused (Y/n) to cringe and coil her legs up to her stomach. Whatever it was, it didn't sound good.

Her legs turned to jelly as she swung them over the side of the bed and slowly got out of bed. She switched on the lamp and coiled her arms to her chest, forcing herself to take steady breaths as she tiptoed to the bedroom door.

It took a lot of willpower for (Y/n) to try and open the door as slowly as possible so it didn't creak or make a sound. She put one foot into the hall and tried to peer round. It was too dark to see anything and (Y/n) gulped, holding her breath as she inched a few paces down the hall, staying as close to the wall as she could.

"Oh no."

The window beside the front door was smashed. Glass littered the hallway. One of the picture frames on the side table had been knocked to the floor. And the street light outside illuminated the front door enough for (Y/n) to see a large stocky frame at the door.

Someone was trying to break in.

Why now? Why tonight of all nights, when Eddie was out at work and (Y/n) was home alone with the kids?

Why their house? What was so special about their home that someone thought they should try their luck breaking in at midnight?

(Y/n) could feel sweat coating her palms as she pressed them against the wall and tried to keep her front flush against the wall to blend in with the dark night shadows. Her knees quivered and threatened to give way as she shuffled along the corridor, afraid to take big steps in case a floorboard creaked and gave away that someone was awake in the house.

Her hand shook as she slowly twisted the handle on Chris's door and she stumbled into his room, gliding across the carpet until she could plonk herself down on the side of his bed.

"Chris? Baby, baby wake up." Her voice was higher in tone than usual but as quiet as she could be without croaking or going silent.

The ten year old gasped, jolting his head forward and reaching a hand out to grab (Y/n)'s arm in shock. The pitch black of the room gave away that it was still night time. He wasn't waking up late for school, it didn't feel like he had even been in bed for that long so he wasn't sure why his mum was vigorously shaking him to wake him up.

"Mum?"

"Shh, baby I know it's late but I need you to get up and go into my room. Now."

"Why?"

Chris sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. What was going on? Was someone sick? Did they have to go somewhere in the middle of the night? The only time something like this had happened was when (Y/n) went into early labour with Rosie during the night. Chris had been abruptly woken up by his dad and told to get his shoes on and get in the car to go and stay with Buck. This wasn't remotely the same as that.

He went to reach out for his glasses on the side table, but he gasped when his mum reached forward and held him beneath his arms. She got up off the bed and lifted him with her to get him on his feet.

He heard her whisper "Emergency," as she kissed the top of his head and ushered his sleepy, stumbling frame towards the open door.

Chris grabbed the doorframe, unable to see properly in the dark, especially without his glasses. But when he stepped into the hall, he couldn't help but look to the right when he heard something pound on the front door.

Tears welled up in his eyes before he understood what was happening and he let his mum usher him into her room. His arms bound around his chest and he stood near the end of the bed, shaking on the spot while he watched his mum scurry into the girls' bedroom.

"Daisy, Daisy, up sweetheart. Go to mummy's room quickly for me."

The four year old grumbled in discontent, but she didn't argue for some reason. She let (Y/n) lift her out of her bed with the Fireman Sam bedding and she cuddled her teddy to her chest as she swayed and stumbled towards the door. She seemed to believe she was going to sleep in bed with her mum tonight and didn't quabble.

(Y/n) watched Daisy pad across the hall before she leaned down into the cot and scooped Rosie up. She cuddled her youngest to her chest, smothering her lips against the top of Rosie's head to try and calm herself down and she rushed back into her room and shut the door.

"Mum?" Chris reached out to hold her arm, pushing into her side for comfort and security because he felt utterly terrified.

"Daisy off the bed. Everyone in the bathroom please."

"But I don't-"

"Now." (Y/n) hissed and nudged Daisy in front of her before her daughter had chance to tell her she didn't want nor need a bath. She'd had a bath before tea time and she had been in bed, since when did they get a bath in the middle of the night?

(Y/n) snatched her phone from the side table and ushered the pair of them into the small en-suite that adjoined her and Eddie's bedroom.

She went to turn the light on but stopped herself. The light automated the extractor fan. Whoever was trying to break in would be able to hear it when the house was this quiet and (Y/n) had no idea if it was just one person trying to burgle them or not. There could be someone outside who would notice if she turned the light on.

She opted instead to turn on the small LED light over the bathroom mirror, it wasn't much but it was enough.

Once Chris and Daisy were inside, (Y/n) quietly pushed the door shut and turned the lock. Her eyes scanned around the small space. Nowhere to hide, no advantage points.

"Okay…" (Y/n) could feel her body shaking as she carefully knelt down on the floor next to the kids and eased Rosie down onto the bathmat. The toddler was starting to stir. "In the bath for me."

"I don't want one." Daisy's voice was meek and she rubbed her eyes again. The darkness was making her want to fall back asleep but once a loud bang rickoted through the house, the little girl gasped and jumped against Chris. Both of them watched (Y/n) shudder and jolt against them.

The front door had swung open and hit the wall. That meant whoever it was had now gotten inside the house.

"We're not getting a bath, baby, just sitting in the tub until it's safe."

"Who's at the door?" Daisy's voice held no power or tone and she spoke in a whisper like she subconsciously understood the situation.

"I don't know."

Chris on the other hand, didn't say anything. He understood immediately and he knew they were in a bad situation. He scrambled to turn around and slowly climb over the side of the tub. He didn't like sitting in an empty bath, it was cold and it echoed badly, but he did as he was told. He opened his arms so that when (Y/n) carefully picked Daisy up and sat her in the tub, his little sister could sit between his legs and cuddle up into him.

(Y/n) eased Rosie back up into her arms and settled her on her chest with her face nuzzled down beneath her collar bone. She tried to stop herself from trembling, desperate to keep Rosie asleep because if she cried she would giveaway their hiding place.

She got up from the floor and carefully climbed into the end of the tub and sat on the little ledge between the end of the tub and the wall. (Y/n) had to tense her muscles to stop her feet from jittering against the bottom of the tub and she pulled the shower curtain across to hide them all. Not that it would provide much safety or cover, but it was the best she could do.

Each breath (Y/n) tried to take was shallow and raspy and it made her go lightheaded. She felt her chest tingling and her stomach flooded with adrenaline to the point she felt like she was going to be sick or somehow explode.

She felt Chris and Daisy edge close until they were both leaning up against her legs for protection and comfort.

With Rosie curled up into her chest, (Y/n) tried to hold her as best she could with one arm so she could get her phone from her pocket and dial Eddie's number.

Please pick up. Please answer me!

Eddie seemed like a safer bet than calling 911. She wanted Eddie to come home and help them. She needed him to know what was going on. (Y/n) didn't want the headache of whispering and probably crying to a dispatcher. Trying to tell them her name and address and how many people were in the house was going to be much harder than simply calling Eddie for assistance.

"Amor? It's late, is everything okay?" Eddie's voice was like music to (Y/n)'s ears and she felt a tear trickling down her cheek as she silently thanked him for answering so quickly.

He wasn't used to a midnight call like this, not unless they had been texting beforehand. This meant something was wrong, Eddie knew (Y/n) wouldn't just ring him out of the blue, late at night like this when he was at work. He could feel his heartbeat picking up already at the thought of what he was about to be told.

"Eddie, I think- I think there's a burglar."

"What?"

"I can hear someone, and one of the windows has been smashed. Please, please can you come home?"

This was one of his worst nightmares. Something happening to his family while he wasn't there. It had been his fear when he was in the army and (Y/n) was pregnant. He worried something would happen to her or she would have the baby without him. He worried being in another country entirely and not on the end of the phone if someone broke in and hurt his family. He feared not being able to be there if they were hurt or frightened and needed him.

(Y/n) could hear him cursing in the background and she could make out the sound of his boots hitting the floor as he started to breathe deeper, indicating he was now running somewhere.

"We're coming now, okay? We're on our way and I'll get dispatch to send a squad car down. Where are you?"

"We're all in the bathroom." (Y/n) kept her voice quiet when she heard something clattering in the house. It sounded distant which meant whoever it was, they weren't in the hall or near the bedrooms.

That might give them some time to stay here undetected while Eddie and the team rushed down to help them.

They had never been burgled before. (Y/n) had never woken up to someone trying to break in or someone coming in and attacking her. She'd never had to hide the kids with her like this and call for help. Their house back in Texas had been out the way and their only neighbours were Eddie's parents and a little old couple in the next property line.

This was a nice house in a safe neighbourhood. Break-ins didn't happen round here.

"I'm on my way amor, I swear. I'll be there soon."

***

Eddie didn't wait for the truck to roll to a stop. Once they were outside his house, he flung the door open and jumped down, bracing his knees upon landing so he could take off into a sprint.

He could hear the rest of the team calling after him, but their voices drowned out in the night air. He didn't care for them telling him to hang back and wait. That was his home. That was his family. He wasn't waiting for the police to give the all clear, he was going in.

And by the looks of it, Eddie would guess that Athena had only just arrived on scene.

Bobby had called her to let her know of the situation and ask for back up and Eddie had seen her and her partner head inside his home. He was going in now, he was going to find his family and make sure they were alright.

"Eddie!" Bobby's voice hissed behind him as the Captain followed him up the garden path and in through the front door.

The lights were off, Eddie wasn't sure whether he was expecting it to be dark in the house or not, but it unsettled him either way. He saw Athena's partner looking round the seemingly empty living room and he skidded down the hall to follow Athena into the kitchen.

He hung back a step, mostly because Bobby's hand found his shoulder and squeezed tight, as a warning.

They both watched as she flicked on the light and pointed her gun at the tall figure stood near the sink.

Why was this person in the kitchen? There was nothing of value or interest in here. What was he planning to steal, the pots and pans?

He didn't have a bag or a rucksack to put any valuables in. There didn't look to be any ornaments missing in the living room from the sneaking glance Eddie stole. The only damage so far was the busted window and broken picture frames near the front door which had dented the wall when it swung open. If this was a robbery, it was carried out by a very bad thief.

"Hands where I can see them." Athena's voice was calm but stern with a demanding tone that rung out through the air.

The stranger spun round a little too quick for himself and his head swayed back as he stumbled, steadying himself at the last moment by leaning on the island counter.

Eddie narrowed his eyes, his lips curling as he studied the man who had broken into his house. He looked drunk. He could barely keep his eyes open, he was swaying his head back and forth and his sense of balance was very clearly distorted.

"What are you doing?" Eddie couldn't help himself. He had to ask when he realised the man had one hand on the counter and the other was clutching one of the glasses from the cupboard.

"G-getting a drink?" The stranger hiccupped through his words which caused his head to snap back and his trembling hand let the glass drop down on the counter with a resounding clatter.

He was getting a drink? Was he being serious?

"Jesus Christ. You broke into my house for a drink?" Eddie couldn't help but tut as he dragged his hand through his hair and shook his head in disbelief.

This idiot had broken into his home, frightened his wife and kids, all so he could get a drink? Did he know whose home he had broken into? Did he have any clue what time it was, what was going on, or that there was indeed a young family in this house who were currently petrified while he tried to make himself a drink?

"You're house-" Confusion was clearly written across the man's face. A deep frown set in his brows and he turned to look around the kitchen as if he wasn't even sure where he was.

A deep sigh left Athena's lips as she clipped her gun back into her holster and exchanged it for a pair of handcuffs.

"Okay. You're under arrest for breaking and entering, let's go for a ride to the station. See if you can sober up."

He didn't reject the handcuffs. He let his head hang forward and allowed Athena to drag him from the kitchen, practically holding him up as he stumbled and swayed back and forth. He was drunk out of his head. Either he thought this was his home and he'd simply lost his keys, or he thought this was the home of a friend and he was fine to blunder in like this.

Eddie felt Bobby pat his shoulder and a silent exchange passed between them. This was a good thing. This wasn't someone trying to steal things from his home or attack his family or terrorise them. This man hadn't hurt any of Eddie's family and he hadn't approached them or even given them one thought.

This was the best outcome they could have hoped for.

With a shake of his head, Eddie twisted and jogged out of the kitchen. (Y/n) said she was in the bathroom. He needed to go in and tell them everything was okay if they hadn't already heard the team blundering into the house.

He could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins and sending his hand shaking as he opened the bedroom door. He flicked the light on as he passed and slowed his steps when he reached the adjoining bathroom.

"Baby? Baby it's me, can you open the door for me?" Eddie rapped his knuckles on the door while his other hand clutched the doorframe tightly to try and keep himself under control. His forehead pressed into his arm and he could feel his foot jittering against the floor out of anxious habit.

He could hear odd sounds and things being moved about before quiet footsteps approached the door. And the way the lock slowly unclipped signalled that (Y/n)'s hands were shaking too.

Relief swarmed through (Y/n)'s stomach and caused her knees to quake when she peered through the gap in the door and set her sights on Eddie.

Tears streamed freely down (Y/n)'s face and she could see black dots twinkling in front of her eyes when she swung the door open and rushed forward. Her arms deadlocked around Eddie's neck and she meshed her face against his shoulder. The feel of his arm bound tight around her waist and his other hand curling around the back of her neck made (Y/n)'s breathing hitch in her throat.

He was here. They were safe. Everything was okay.

"Oh baby. You all okay?" Eddie smothered his lips against the side of (Y/n)'s head and slowly walked her backwards into the bathroom. He could feel her trembling in his arms and he worried if he let her go her legs might cave in.

"Did you get him? Who was it?"

"A fucking drunk, Athena's arrested him. He had no clue where he was, but I don't think he would of done anything if he saw you. Small mercies."

When his sights set on the bath, he could feel his heartstrings being cut, dropping his heart right down to the pit of his stomach.

The kids were petrified.

Chris was sat in the bath, slowly rocking back and forth to try and keep himself calm. He had his arms bound around Rosie who was sitting up between his legs, hand stuffed into her mouth as she sniffed, clearly about to cry. Chris had his cheek resting on top of her head, tears streaked down his face and panic written across his features.

Daisy was sat next to him, cuddled up into his side as much as she could with one hand around Chris's arm and the other binding her teddy to her chest.

Eddie eased (Y/n) down so she was sat on the side of the bath and he crouched down beside her so he could reach his arms forward for the kids. He carefully eased Rosie from Chris's protective embrace, pressing a kiss to her temple before he let (Y/n) take her from him to soothe her.

"Are you two okay?" He braced himself on the heel of his boots when Chris barrelled forward into his chest with his arms looped around Eddie's neck. And he moved his left arm out for Daisy when she whined and scrambled up to latch onto him too like she thought she was missing out.

"W-where's the bad man?"

"Bobby and Athena got him, it's okay. Everyone's safe now."

Eddie shifted his arms a bit lower down around each of them so he could lift them up from the bath. He held one kid in each arm, letting them burrow into his chest while he turned and headed into the bedroom, feeling (Y/n) walking close behind on shaking legs.

He eased them down onto the bed with a kiss to their foreheads and for a brief moment his eyes locked with (Y/n)'s when she sat down. He noticed how she was still shaking and her feet were tapping against the rug while she tried to rock Rosie up and down against her chest, but it was hard when she could barely keep her arms tight around the toddler.

But Eddie twisted to look behind him when Buck cleared his throat, a soft smile on his face as he stood in the doorway with Bobby. He tried to turn in their direction but he stopped when Daisy deadlocked her hands around his arm and pulled his arm into her chest with her teddy.

"Daddy no!"

"I'm just gonna talk to uncle Buck, I won't leave the room flower, I promise." He carded his fingers through her unruly hair and pressed a deep kiss to the top of her head.

It took a few moments for Daisy to debate and confirm that Eddie wasn't lying to her before she grumbled and let go of his arm. She didn't want her dad to leave her sights, he had to stay and keep them safe.

Eddie leaned against the doorframe, arms folded over his chest and his cheek against the door. They could both see that all the energy had been drained from him completely. The adrenaline was still rushing through his body, but he was losing the momentum he had earlier on shift. He had never had a phone call or a night like this before and he never wanted to experience it again.

"You'll need a new window, but we've broke all the glass out and drilled some wood there for now so it's secure."

"Thank you."

Eddie hadn't even thought or worried about the window or the front door when he got here. He just had to make sure whoever was invading his home hadn't managed to reach his family or hurt them. But he was grateful the team had bordered up the window pane, it was one less job for Eddie to do.

"I think you'd better stay home tonight." Bobby nodded his head in the direction of the bed behind Eddie where his family was waiting.

He didn't think it was wise for Eddie to come back on shift, not when his mind would only be focused on wondering if his family was okay. And leaving them after this while all of them were shook up wouldn't be in his best interests either. Eddie needed to stay here with his family and make sure they were all okay.

"We'll leave you to it."

"Call if you need anything."

"Thanks," Eddie ran his hand over his face and rubbed at his eyes before he headed over to the bed and crouched down, taking a quick glance at the watch strapped to his wrist. "Okay, it's way past bedtime. Everyone in while I go lock the door."

A strange look crossed Chris's face while Daisy took a deep breath and managed a small smile. She was the first to move, turning around so she could scramble up the bed when Eddie pointed.

There was no way Eddie was letting either of them go back to their own rooms just to lay there and panic. They would end up having nightmares or a panic attack. Even if none of them managed to get any sleep tonight, at least if they had all the kids in bed with them, all of them would feel safe and secure. And Eddie wouldn't have to keep getting out of bed every half hour to go and check on them and make sure they were okay.

When Chris shuffled up the bed, Eddie headed out into the hall. He made quick work of locking the front door and pulling the chain across, something he hadn't done in a while. He kicked off his boots and turned all the lights out as he headed back to the bedroom.

Part of Eddie wished they had a lock on their bedroom door. It would have felt a lot safer to lock the door and keep them all safe in here, but he would have to settle for knowing the front and back doors were both locked and his family would be wrapped up in his arms for the night. Probably for the next few nights if he was being honest. Daisy and Chris were going to be frightened and shell shocked after this. He couldn't see them sleeping in their own beds for at least a week or more.

There didn't look to be much room left in the bed by the time Eddie stripped from his uniform and headed over to try and climb in.

(Y/n) was on her side, Rosie cuddled up on her chest and abdomen, not quite asleep but well on her way. She had Chris laid next to her, already burrowed down under the cover with his head on (Y/n)'s shoulder, tucked up against her side. And Daisy was laid next to him, teddy deadlocked under one arm and her other hand reaching out for Eddie.

"You gonna let me in, flower?" He lifted the cover and waited for Daisy to wriggle so he could just about squeeze in beside her.

He didn't like the way Daisy shivered and Chris made a little disgruntled noise when Eddie turned the lamp off. The dark seemed to ignite worry in all five of them, even Rosie gurgled and started to wriggle around, unsettled.

A soft "Come're," passed Eddie's lips and he twisted to lay on his right side, pulling Daisy closer until she was burrowed into his bare chest. He could feel her pulling her knees up to her tummy and smothering her face into his upper chest like she was trying to curl up into a ball and make herself as small as possible.

With his right hand trailing up and down Daisy's back, he looped his left arm out over Chris and curled his hand around (Y/n)'s arm. Trying his best to keep hold of each of his family.

They were all tucked up together; they were all safe.

[goldfades]

nika is so hates everyone but soft only for my gf like cmon

oh for sure, she is like down bad for her girlfriend ALWAYS

─ word count | 736

─ warnings | mean nika to everyone else, sweet nika to you (duh), paige being dramatic, nothing else

NIKA LAID ON the couch, scrolling on TikTok after a particularly hard practice.

Geno had them go a little harder today because he wanted to push them. She didn't blame him, obviously there was nothing wrong with wanting to push his players to be the best ─ however, it hasn't even been an hour since practice ended and no one had left the gym because of how sore they were.

Nika's muscles already felt like they were screaming at every movement she made. She winced as she shifted on the couch, trying to find a more comfortable position.

"Nika," She heard someone called as she whipped her head to see who was talking. Behind her was Paige, a frown on her face as she winced to sit on the couch next to her. "What are you doing after this?"

"What are you doing after this?" She repeated at Paige, annoyance in her experience. "Going to sleep and showering, obviously. What could I possibly do other than that?"

"I was just asking, jeez." Paige rolled her eyes as she yawned, leaning backward. "Can you get me some water from the kitchen, I can't feel my legs."

"No," Nika said plainly as she continued to scroll on TikTok, keeping her gaze locked on her screen. Paige just glared at her but before she could respond, Nika's phone begin to ring.

Nika's face beamed as she quickly answered it. "Hey, baby. What's up?" Her voice was a stark contrast to how she was talking Paige just moments ago ─ it was soft and warm, and especially loving.

"Yeah, sorry. Practice ran a little late, my love but I can still come." Nika sat up on the couch as quickly as she could, pressing the phone in between her ear and her shoulder. "You sound hungry, baby. Yeah, no it's okay what do you want?"

Paige audibly gasped as she continued glaring at her friend, earning a pointed look from Nika. "Okay, of course. I will, don't worry baby. I'll be there in like... 20 minutes? Yeah, okay. I love you more, princess. Bye,"

Nika hung up the phone with a smile, her attention fully back on Paige, who was now looking at her with a mixture of disbelief and annoyance.

"What was that?" Paige asked as she folded her arms on her chest, irritation on her face.

"What was what?" Nika replied with the same tone as Paige's, although there was a amused twinkle in her eyes.

"You were just all sweet and loving on the phone, but you couldn't even get me a glass of water that's like, two feet away from you?" Paige huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

Nika chuckled, shaking her head. "Sorry, dude. You know I love you, but you're capable of getting your own water. She hasn't had food all day cus she was studying and it's not even that far, like 20 minutes away from here."

"20 minutes?" Paige repeated in disbelief as she shook her head. "You are down bad, my friend."

"I don't care, she's my girlfriend." Nika responded as she put on her slides with a groan, getting up from the couch. Nika stretched her arms above her head, feeling the stiffness in her muscles protest. "Besides, it's not like I have a habit of ignoring my friends for her. You know that."

Paige chuckled, her annoyance melting away as she stood up, too. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm just messing with you. Go, be with your princess."

"I hate you, you know that?" Nika glared at her as Paige put up her hands in mock defense.

"You did that one to yourself, buddy I heard you call her that." Paige laughed as she watched Nika put on her backpack. "Wait until I tell everyone you call Y/N princess, they'll never look at you the same.

"Yeah and then I'll tell them about the time you called that girl-"

"Hey! Hey, that's different." Paige interrupted, her cheeks flushing slightly as she waved her hands frantically.

Nika chuckled, shaking her head. "Alright, alright, I won't spill your secrets. But you better not spill mine either."

"Deal," Paige said, holding out her fist for a bump. Nika bumped it with a smile before slinging her backpack over her shoulder.

"See you tomorrow, P," Nika said, heading towards the door.

"Yep, see ya," Paige replied, waving as Nika left the room.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[baby-dr1ver]

kinktober <3

biting

oscar x reader

warnings: biting...Oscar being hot, oral

a/n: can you tell a have a favorite….

oh! @twinkodium this one’s for you 😉

Oscar has an oral fixation. 

Sure, he was obsessed with eating you out, and sucking on your nipples until they were raw but, bititng? This….This was new.

You noticed it earlier that day when he was driving the both of you into the paddock. You had your phone down in your lap, scrolling through social media when Oscars hand knocked your phone away and laced his fingers with yours. It was a sweet gesture meant for only you.

He placed gentle kisses along your knuckles and the back of your palm. You cooed and started to speak up when you felt him nibble at your fingers.

You let out a small gasp at the new sensation, the way he would nip at your finger tips and lick over them as if to apologize for being rough. By the time he let your hand free, your face was red and all the air had gotten caught in your throat. Oscar looked normal as ever, just released your hand and kept driving like all was well. 

By the time you arrived and gotten situated in the Mclaren garage, you had a far away look in your eyes, pupils dialated. All you could think about was his lips on your fingers, the way his teeth felt as they dug into your skin, how on fire you felt from a small act. Was it just a small need to feel your skin under his lips? Or the start of desprate possessiveness?

You hoped it was the latter, Oscar is known to be very level headed, you wished you could see a little of his dark side. 

“Love?” Speak of the devil and he shall appear. 

“There’s my favorite Aussie, don’t tell Daniel.” You stood up and placed a small kiss on his cheek. He leaned into you, leaning his head down to your neck. You rubbed a hand up and down his back, assuming he was quite a bit nervous seeing he was starting P1. You were wrong, wrong wrong wrong. 

“Ozzy….” You warned as you started to feel butterfly kisses dragging behind your ear. This was out of the ordinary, this wasn’t the reserved Oscar Piastri you knew. He nibbled on your ear and pulled away. “Sorry sorry, couldn’t help it.” He pulled away and shrugged. 

Oscar was eventually called over to put on his helmet, he gave you a wink and and got in his car. Fuck, how were you supposed to concentrate on the race?

You stood by the Mclaren staff as you watched Oscar pull into the P2 spot, screaming his name like your life depended on it. He saw each personnel on the team before pulling off his helmet and spotting you. He pulled you over the barricade, over the sea of people, and kissed you like he never would again. You tenses for a moment, again, new things developed in Oscar…this being the most bold. You closed your eyes and held his face like he was the most precious flower you just picked out of the garden. 

Oscar started to pull away, in doing so, pulled you bottom lip with him. You could hear the Mclaren staff and Red Bull, whistling, ‘ohing and ahing’, like we were 2 children who just got caught on the playground together. He stood tall, squeezing your waist and pulling you close, like he was making sure people knew who you were leaving with. 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. He had been riling you up all day and he knew it. Especially by the way he stood on the podium, raised his trophy in the air and pointed to you. 

“So, how do you want to celebrate? I think Lando is gonna get severely drunk tonight and he might need a buddy.” You poked as you walked hand in hand to the car. New.

“Mmmm I don’t really feel like going out sweetheart, just wanna spend time with you before we have to part again.” He said as he looked down at you with a sickly sweet smile. God fucking-mother fuck-

You simply nodded and let him guide you to his car, pondering what was gonna happen back at the hotel room. 

You didn’t have to wonder for long, Oscar nearly broke every speed limit law there was just to rush you up to your room, pushing you against the wall, hands above your head. You sat nose to nose, feeling his breathe on your lips. “So…” You said out of breath. “This is new. Not that I don’t like it! Just..new.” He smiled and leaned down to brush his lips against yours. 

“You bring it out in me baby.” He squeezed your wrist before sliding his hands in yours. You quietly gasped, being brought back to the moment in the car earlier that morning. He watched your pupils dilate, watching your body slowly become ooze in his hands. 

He pulled you away from the door, spun you around and held your hands behind your back. Oscar nosed along your neck, thinking he was being sly with his small pecks here and there. Where in fact he was just finding the perfect place to-bite. 

You yelped, “Osc!” He laughed and pushed you towards the bed with your bound wrists. He couldn’t help but pull off all your clothes in haste, desprate, pleading to see all of you. 

���My darling, look at you.” He bent down and kissed your stomach, nip at the flesh with intent. Intent to mark what belongs to him. You watched as his tongue swirled around the small indents he made along your delicate skin. The trail of spit he left as he kissed his way up to you. 

“Please Ozzy-it’s not fair. Been winding me up all day.” You pouted and he mirrored your expression. “Poor baby, what’s got you in a tizzy?” He spoke softly as his markings got harsher. He bit and sucked on your chin, turned his head a little sideways and just about took your whole throat in his mouth. He was insatiable, it was like he was a cannibal that hadn’t eaten in days. 

You moaned and bucked your hips up into his shorts covered bulge. “Ah, I see.” He spoke arrogantly. “You like how it feels when I mark you? Huh baby? Didn’t think I’d be into it either but,” He sucked on your bottom lip. “fuck I can’t get enough of you. Everything is just so soft.” 

He eventually got his shirt and shorts off, to which had you rolling over in your metaphorical grave. He lay between your thighs, over his shoulders, taking a pound of flesh from each. “Oscar, fuck please, everyone will see these tomorrow.” He pinched a deep mark he made on your stomach to stop your whines. “I decide when I’m done.” He narrowed his eyes for a moment and mumbled. “But you smell to good.” Without a word, he fucking ruined you. 

Oscar was never a fast pace lover, he liked to take it slow, watch every microexpression on your face. But I guess today was a good time to try new things. 

Oscar didn’t stop until he had your legs shaking. Gently nipping at your clit, using his fingers and tongue, sucking on existing marks to make them darker. If you could see you body now, you’d be able to see the indents of hs teeth in various places, the bright blooming bruises he’d left behind in his hasted attempt to get close to you. 

He gently kissed all your battle scars, letting you come down from the days events. “You akright baby? Wasn’t to rough with you?” You laughed, bellowing laugh. 

“Oscar, you’ve had me pined from the start, I don’t know what has gotten into you lately but..I like this new you.” He rolled his eyes and kissed you sweetly. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll have normal me back soon, just..I don’t know, I liked seeing you all flushed from the heat, wearing these small little sundresses. Get’s any man going.” 

You stroked his cheek gently, wiping away the dirt and sweat. You let your hand wander over his brow and forehead, working away the worry lines for a moment. 

“Speaking of…” You trailed your hand down his toned chest before he stopped you. “Yeah about that…” He looked at you sheepishly. You simply chuckled and pulled him down to lay with you. 

Oscar laid his head on your chest, face squared in the middle of your boobs, tracing over the faint lines. “You know, everyones gonna make fun of you for this tomorrow. Especially Lando.” Oscar just groaned and went on for round 2.

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 31 - Rookie of the Year

Last regular chapter! We have the Drive to Survive episode and then the prologue left! I'm not going to say many words because my farewell to this story will come after DTS drops which will be tomorrow night around 8:30 pm CT

The end of To Do is To Dare is scheduled for this Saturday, 11:30 am CT.

I love you all!

“Kid, are those shorts?” 

You looked up the phone in your hand up to Max, who was sitting in front of you in the limo. Your eyes flitted back down to your lap, where your dress had ridden up to reveal the basketball shorts that were supposed to be hidden. 

You shot him a sheepish grin. 

“Quite possibly.” 

Max rolled his eyes. “And why are you wearing shorts underneath a 7 thousand dollar dress?” 

“If Zendaya can do it, so can I. And besides, I’m taking them off when we get close. I just didn’t want to cross my legs in the car.” 

A snort came from Arthur, who sat to your right. To his opposite sat Charles. The four of you were all decked out in clothing that could definitely pay for a high end sports car. The Armani suits were tailored to the two Monegasques. Max’s suit and your dress were from the newest Dior line, thanks to your own ambassadorship with the luxury brand. The heels on your feet costs thousands as well. You didn’t even want to think about how much the jewelry that adorned your wrists, neck, and ears cost. 

Arthur leaned over, hand on your thigh. “Well you might want to take them off because we’re about 5 minutes away.” 

A pout grew on your lips, but you appropriately slid the basketball shorts off your smooth legs. You definitely didn’t miss the ogling eyes of your boyfriend. You gave him an innocent smile, which made him glare at you. 

“You think I’ll get rookie of the year?” 

The question made the men groan. 

You gawked at them. “What? I don’t know if they’ll do it since I was the only rookie. That’s like giving a first place trophy to the only alone person in a competition. Useless.” 

Charles gave you a smile. “What previous awards have you won or records you have broken?” 

Your eyes flickered to the ceiling in thought. 

“Ok, so I was the youngest European Karting Division Champion in 2010, the youngest Italian Karting Division Champion in 2012, youngest F4 race winner and champion in 2018, youngest F3 race winner and champion in 2019, youngest F2 race winner in 2020. That year I was also Rookie of the Year and got the Jules Bianchi award. And then I was the youngest F2 champion in 2023. This year I was the youngest pole sitter in F1, I had the most points for a rookie year with 333 points, and then the most podiums for a rookie with 15 podium finishes. I equaled Lewis’s record of four wins in a rookie season. And I think that’s it…Why are you three staring at me like that?” 

A blush formed on your face as the three men just stared. Max shook his head in disbelief. 

“You’re more decorated than I am.” 

A roll of your eyes had him arguing. With the jerk of the car, the two of you silenced. Through the heavily tinted windows, you could see the flashes of cameras. You inhaled sharply which caught Arthur’s attention. 

“I’ll hold your hand the entire time ok?” 

A nod of your head let him know that you’d be fine with that. The moment the door opened, the noise was deafening. People were screaming your name, along with Max, Charles, and Arthur. You flashed the best smile you could as you walked to the building. But a certain car caught your eyes. The familiar navy was beaconing you to go over. You let your hand slip from Arthur as you got closer to your season car. 

“Hey buddy,” you whispered as you ran your hand along the carbon fiber body. You could still hear the flashes of the cameras but it didn’t matter to you anymore. You were back with your car that carried you so well during the races.

You leaned closer as if to tell a secret. “I’m still going to buy you so you can come rest with my other cars back home. I’m going to miss you Forum.” 

The name was a simple call back to the Formula cars. But, in your mind, you couldn’t just call him Formula, because that would be weird. Max only smiled when you told him the name earlier in the season. 

Apparently, the Red Bull cars were men. 

You smiled over your shoulder at Arthur who had waited for you. Internally, you were trying to waste time so you didn’t have to sit through long boring speeches. But, the look of mild panic of being late in Arthur’s eyes got you to start moving. 

Once inside, you welcomed the air conditioning. Arthur’s fingers found the open slot of your dress on your side. The comfort of the skin to skin contact was very appreciated. 

Thankfully, they had decided to put the top three at the same table. Since you and Max were on the same team, and Charles got along with the two of you quite well, they didn’t see a problem with you all sitting together. It definitely made the night less boring. 

When Max got up to say his acceptance speech, some tears rolled down your face. It was especially when he got to talking about you. 

The Dutchman smiled down at the table, or well, at you. 

“I don’t normally do this, but I also have to thank my teammate, Y/n. 

“When I heard that she was going to replace Sergio at the beginning of 2024, I was a bit hesitant. I am used to being in a comfortable spot in life, but the world decided to throw a 20-year-old at me and said ‘here you go, have fun’.” 

The crowd chuckled at his words, but you tried to laugh through the tears. Max continued.

“The first few races were great. I had to go find her after she borrowed a car, we played football on the Miami beach, and I got to really connect with drivers that I didn’t know I could be close to.” 

You saw a bigger smile grow on Charles’s face. You personally knew that the Ferrari driver was more than thankful for Max’s close friendship. It made the season go so much better than in 2022. 

“It was in Suzuka that I noticed that my teammate had become part of my family when I was so…scared to lose her. I know I wasn’t the only one that said I wouldn’t have continued to race if she had…” 

Max didn’t finish the sentence as he wiped his eyes. Arthur’s hand gripped yours a bit tightly at the reference to your DNF at Suzuka. 

The Champion inhaled before he spoke again. 

“But what matters is that she was able to finish the season with me in third place. We were able to take home the constructor’s championship with her fastest lap. 

“Y/n has meant so much more to me than a regular teammate. And I am thankful that we get to have more years of competitiveness together. I am 100 percent confident when I say that she will be a World Champion.

“Thank you.” 

Max walked off stage as the crowds roared at the completion of his speech. You were up next, so you stood from the table and walked over to meet him. He brought you into a big hug and didn’t let go for a bit. You felt him kiss the top of your head before he let you go. 

You shakily inhaled as you stood on the edge of the stage. 

“And now, please welcome the Rookie of the Year and third place winner of the Driver’s Championship, Y/n L/n!” 

Once you heard the clapping, you made your way to the middle of the stage. The man handed you two trophies that were a lot heavier than you thought. You awkwardly grinned as you stood still for pictures. 

One the man gave you the signal to start, you bent down slightly to put the trophies down. When you rose back up, you took a deep breath. You gave the crowd a smile before you started to speak. 

“First off, I’d like to thank everyone here today. It would be weird to be speaking to an empty room, so the audience is appreciated.” 

Laughter came from the crowd, which let you know that you were doing great. 

“Next, I’d like to thank my personal team. I wouldn’t be here without my physio, even if I continued to beg her to eat ice cream all the time. To my trainer, I don’t think I’d be able to even turn my steering wheel without him. And then to Vito, my manager. When I say that he is truly the only person who has stayed by myself through the years, it’s him. He didn’t have to stay, but he did. I’d be lost without him and probably driving an uber around cities to make money.” 

Your voice gave a little crack at the end, but a chuckle covered it up. You saw Vito smile at you and hold his thumb up. 

“Then there’s my found family. I’d like to thank the Leclercs for truly putting time and effort into my career. I can’t count the amount of times on my hand that Pascale sent me some extra food whenever she visited Arthur. I know she’s not here tonight, but she deserves all of my thanks. She truly treated me like her own, even if I wasn’t. She’s been the mother that I never got to have growing up.” 

“To Charlie, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to race and compete against my childhood hero. But here we are, with you looking at my backside throughout the season.” 

You heard a “hey!” from Charles that made the crowd laugh even louder. 

“But, we both know you came out on top despite some difficulties. Thank you for being so kind to me. And thank you for signing all three pairs of my Lightning McQueen Crocs.” 

Charles blew you a kiss which you pretended to catch. 

“Last and not least of my Leclerc entourage, Arthur. I cannot begin anywhere to ever tell you how thankful I was to be your teammate in Formula 2. You saw a frightened and anxiety-ridden girl, who thought that the 2023 season would be the end of her driving career. But, you took me to dinner after our first meeting, and in the process might have taken my heart as well. I’m glad that it only took me crashing my car in Japan for you to finally confess.” 

Once again, you choked a bit. But, you’re pretty sure that everyone in the room did as well. You sniffed as you wiped your eyes. 

“But I wouldn’t have it anyway.” 

At the table, there wasn’t a dry eye at all. Arthur was wiping at his eyes harshly in frustration. The tears would not stop falling. Even Max was crying and you hadn’t even said anything in his direction. The Dutchman knew that he would be a gonner the moment you said his name. 

“To the Red Bull team. Like I’ve said all night, there aren’t any words that could sum up my gratitude. I remember hearing the news that Max was signed at 17 and I only thought, gosh they had balls.” 

More laughter from the crowd. 

“Charles might be driving for Ferrari, but I have always wanted to drive for the energy drink team. Their famous saying, Red Bull gives you wings, has been entirely true for this season. You took a chance on me and gave me my wings to fly and soar. Thank you Christian for treating me like the dad I never had. I’m excited to be driving for you for many years.” 

You changed your card and looked down at the wobbly words due to tears. You looked up, and at that moment, you realized that your eye makeup must have been running. Oh well, who cares. 

“And finally, but maybe the most important person of all in this room, other than me of course.” 

Soft laughs could be heard despite the sobering moment to come. Everyone had been waiting to see what you would say about Max. 

“If there was an award for best teammate, I would give Max the trophy over and over again. I was so nervous to meet him. I didn’t want to be disrespectful, because you don’t just become a three-time world champion’s teammate without doing something right in life. But that happened to me. Almost immediately, I could tell that Max would be a good one.

“The night we met, he took me out to get ice cream and showed me pictures of his cats for hours. At Christmas, he knew that I didn’t have any family to spend it with and all but dragged me back to his home in Monaco. He made sure I knew that I was welcomed and loved. 

“Because that is what I admire about Max. Not his career, not his driving, and definitely not his cooking skills. I admire him for his ability to be kind and to love easy. I never had the best childhood, and Max knew nothing about it, but he treated me with such preciosity. He made me feel wanted for maybe the second time in my life. 

“My childhood was filled with moments of unwantedness. I was a female going against the best boys and men in the motorsport leagues. I was treated unfairly sometimes, but I was never treated like that with Max. 

“So, Maximillian, I can’t thank you enough for making a little girl’s dream come true. I might have won all of these awards tonight, but I only feel like a winner because I am walking away with a group that no family could beat. 

“So thank you from the bottom of my heart.” 

The amount of applause could not be contained in the room. Even the security guards outside the door could hear the cheers and claps coming from the different personnel in the room. It wasn’t long before everyone was standing for you as you walked down. 

However, Max seemed to stand the straightest in pride for you. If it wasn’t for the tear stains on his cheeks, you wouldn’t even know that he had been crying. There was a genuine smile on his face. His arms opened for a hug when you got to the table. You put yourself there as he wrapped his arms around you. Your head rested gently on his shoulder. You felt his lips touch your forehead.

Once the hug was over, you felt another person wrap their hands around. You knew who is was once his lips touched your own. You melted a bit before Arthur leaned back.

“I am so proud of you.”

“Thank you mon bebe.” 

A groan left his lips. 

“You know what it does when you speak my language.” 

A smirk grew on your lips. “Oh I know.” 

Arthur only rolled his eyes. 

“My rookie of the year.” 

Max’s hands landed on your shoulder and Arthur’s. To be honest, you forgot that the rest of the word even existed. Oops. 

“Not rookie anymore. Time for the sophomore year!” Max’s voice sounded above the crowd. 

You looked up at the Dutchman. 

“I’m going to win the championship this year.” 

“No you aren’t.” 

“You are both wrong. I will be the world champion.” 

“Sure Charles, sure.” 

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 wow, I didn't expect to be walking home with three trophies tonight 😚 all jokes aside, thank you to the FIA for naming me Rookie of the Year (even if I was the only one) and then for granting me the first ever Woman of the Year in Motorsports. I'm hoping that in the next few years, others will be able to be bestowed this award like I have been. Thank you everyone! See you in a few months for testing 💙 - rookie out

liked by arthur_leclerc, maxverstappen1, y/n.nation, and 6,204,957 others

y/n.nation if you look in the back of the fourth picture, you can see me drowning on my tears

arthur_leclerc I am totally fine being the trophy husband

y/n.89 awwww I'm glad that I can have you as the trophy husband

y/nxarthur HUSBAND?

maxverstappen1 HUSBAND??

charles_leclerc HUSBAND?????

y/n.89 I said what I said - haters gonna hate 🤭

box_box_express I cannot WAIT for preseason testing, why do I miss this already?

y/n&co I'm just waiting for the DTS episode, it's going to be so good

y/n4ever her speech tonight, I'm kind of worried for the episode...

lestappenlove oh gosh, Charles and Max looked like such proud older brothers (I don't think I've ever seen either of them cry before)

maxverstappen1 couldn't have done anything without you kid! even if you continue to call me Maximilian in front of thousands and thousands of people

y/n.89 I don't care - you'll always be my maximillian 😆

sophomore_y/n the trophies are so pretty 🥹

formula1_edits I can see all the videos and edits on tik tok forming now - maybe something Harry Styles 🤔

author everything is going to be all right - just like it always is

y/n.89 thank you for making this happen!

author anything for you kid...anything

charles_leclerc CAN I BE WORLD CHAMPION PLEASE?????

formulala_delulu WHY IS IT ENDING??? 😭

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[touchtheinvisiblestars]

Imagine Spencer looking after you when you get hurt on a stakeout

You'd been paired with a local officer, tasked with a night stakeout at a farm. The pair of you were supposed to watch for any activity, and report back any movement.

Which of course went pear shaped when the young, ambitious man you'd been placed with identified a missing person being led out of the main building. Faster than you could react to stop him, he'd thrown himself out the door, gun raised and ready and attempted to subdue the men.

Instead of impulsively running after him, you chose to stay back and call for help. Simultaneously pressing the distress button on the device Garcia had rather ingeniously insisted you all carry.

It pinged your location to all members of the team, and alerted them that whoever pressed it was in trouble.

Reaching the sheriff's department, you reported the activity and the officers mistake. Watching as they turned on him, you let out a gasp when one of the suspects didn't wait for him to finish the rest of his demands. Instead in the blink of an eye shot him, three times.

"Agent? Agent? Can you hear me, what's going on there?" The Detective who'd answered the phone asked you.

"They just killed him." You breathed, watching as they dragged his body away, the missing boy cowering against the side of the house. Before another one of the suspects grabbed onto him and dragged him away.

"Have they seen you? Are you compromised?"

"Maybe... I don't know. They-" you were cut off by the passenger door opening, revealing one of the men you'd been watching earlier that night.

Before you could reach for your gun, which was stupidly placed on the dashboard, he grabbed you by your hair and dragged you out of the car. Slamming you down onto the ground roughly, even your kevlar vest couldn't stop the air being knocked out of you.

Promptly followed by a hard kick to your stomach, making your chest go into spasm. Gasping in air, you could barely focus on where the next hit was coming from.

***

After what seemed like an eternity he finally let up, shoving you back into the gravel of the driveway and stalking off. Barking orders at the other men who had appeared from the shadows.

"Let's go boys, we need to ship out to location Tango. Got it?.. Let's go then. Her buddies will be here any moment." He called out, sparing a glance back to you.

Feeling entirely too conscious, you dared not move, not fancying another punch to the face.

Multiple cars started up and disappeared over the hills to the back of the property.

You curled onto your side, and tried to breathe in some even breaths. Trying to not focus on the pain all over, you managed to get yourself on all fours. Realising at some point he pulled your bulletproof vest off.

Maneuvering yourself so you were slowly leaning back against the tyre of the truck you were doing the stakeout in. The light from the houses and extra that had been switched on gave you a good look around. And also at yourself. Seeing there were blood splatters on your shirt. You tried not to imagine what you looked like.

Closing your eyes for a moment, taking slow deep breaths in to try and calm your racing heart.

Hearing the sound of gravel under tyres, you instantly panicked. A unexpected wave of adrenaline coarsed through you, giving you the energy needed to get yourself off the floor and in a better position to defend yourself in.

"Y/n?" Hotch's concerned shout fell of deaf ears as you scrambled to get into the car and grab your gun.

"Hey, no, no, no. It's us, calm down." A familiar voice soothed. Intercepting you and stopping your hand before it could pick up your weapon, that you hadn't had the chance to grab.

You hissed and winced as he touched you left wrist, a sickeningly sharp pain shooting up your arm.

"I'm sorry. What hurts?"

"Spence?" Seeing his face relaxed you instantly, "we need to be quick, they literally just left. Over that ridge up there. If we go now we could catch up with them."

Leaning down to get a look at you, some of his wild hair falling out of place as he fussed over you.

"You're not going anywhere, okay? You need to be seen to, what the hell happened? We got the distress ping and ran out the door."

He intercepted your attempt to grab the keys in the ignition. Taking them from you and putting them in his coat pocket.

"That stupid boy got himself killed. He ran over there, gun out, demanding they gave up the boy and that they were under arrest... There were three of them! To one of him, he was never going to subdue all of them."

"You did everything right, okay? He should never have tried to go after them. This group is far too organised for that."

"But I just sat here. I watched it happen, I-"

"Stop. I won't let you do this to yourself. Did you see the person who attacked you?"

"Yeah, he was young. Green eyes, bit of a beard. Around six-five. Probably mid thirties. Um- he was wearing a yellow plaid shirt with a puffer vest jacket. He had.." You trailed off, a piercing headache making you double over.

"That's amazing, y/n. Come on, the ambulance is over here." He said, curling his arm around your waist and helped you out of the car.

Spying Hotch looking over a map, you pulled away from Spencer and limped over to him. Spencer following close behind holding onto your wrist.

You looked at the map to get your bearings, finding the circled area you were in. You pointed at the hills behind the house.

"Y/n, have you seen a medic?" Aaron asked, frowning at you, one of the few facial expressions he had.

"No she hasn-" Spencer started, but you cut him off.

"They went over this ridge," you paused, steadying yourself on the bonnet of the truck, "if we leave now we could catch them."

"Okay, but you aren't going anywhere until you've been checked out. Reid. Make sure she gets medical attention." Hotch spoke to you and then to Spencer who was hovering worriedly.

"Hotch, please. We might not get another chance like this again." You tried, refusing to move from the car.

"Y/n that's not a suggestion. It's an order. Go." Hotch finalised, nodding to Spencer who supported you as he lightly pulled you back.

The medics met you halfway and started asking you an endless list of questions.

A suspected cracked rib and multiple bones in your wrist, concussion, and bruising all over. You were told to visit the hospital once you were back in the city. They strapped you up and gave you some painkillers.

"Where's Hotch?" You asked as Spencer helped you get down from the ambulance, "I've been checked out, I want to help."

"They've headed back to the station. We can't just go roaming across the hills looking for people in the dark. Y/n, it's too dangerous."

"Spencer, come on. We won't get another chance like this."

"We will, okay? I promise you they won't get away. You think any of us will let you go out like this? You need x-rays, anti-inflammatory medication, potentially a CT scan, and most of all rest. Hotch wants you on two weeks leave, after you leave the hospital."

"No," you exclaimed exasperated, "I need you to do a cognitive interview on me."

"Okay. But not now." He spoke softly, brows furrowed as he looked down at you.

"Why not now?"

"Because you've spent the last ten minutes digging your nails into your palm. And you only do that when you're in pain."

You instantly released your clenched fist. Not realising you'd even being doing it.

Releasing a deep breath, you were finally ready to admit defeat. Nodding, you let him lead you back to the car you'd come in.

The drive back was comfortably silent, Spencer looking over to check on you occasionally. You sighed on arriving at the closest hospital.

"I know okay. But do you really want me lecturing you about all the reasons you should follow the medics advice and get to the hospital immediately?"

Shaking your head, you sent a small smile his way.

[01zfan]

bad idea, right? | s.es

ex!eunseok x reader | 6.4k words

inspired by the song bad idea, right by olivia rodrigo.

contains: drinking (reader is tipsy at most), slightly toxic relationship, randomly put in other idols for some good ole world building, cunnilingus (fem. receiving), missionary, a lil crying.

you look at the text on your phone, contemplating all the decisions that have led you to this moment.

im outside.

it started out as a normal night. you went out with your two friends to a local dive bar you recently started to frequent. but just before the last call your friend showed a text of a party near you that was “lit”. you had planned to leave this with your friends at beginning of the night. your plans quickly changed after your third shot at the party. from that moment on you were texting your ex, eunseok. 

the worst part is that you had been so good about no contact. the night of the breakup you laid in your bed with tear stains on your pillow and cheeks. you had told him that you guys would remain friends but you realized that you would never be able to move on unless you cut him from your life completely. so you blocked him on every social media platform and then deleted and blocked his number as well. the solution was to not even give yourself the option to reach out to him and not let him even try to speak a word to you. you would see him occasionally due to overlapping friend groups but you were so good at pretending he wasn’t there. unfortunately, tonight was the night you folded.

the music at the house party wasn’t overbearing, but the alcohol was making you irritable.

“can they turn the music down?” you yelled into yunjin’s ear.

“i can’t hear you!” yunjin yelled back.

“can i have another shot?” you yelled at giselle this time, who had a vice grip on a bottle of vodka. when giselle looked at you with confusion you pointed at the bottle of vodka then pointed at your red solo cup.

“i think you’ve had enough to drink.” giselle laughs. you look to yunjin for support but she nods in agreement with giselle. ever since the breakup, you often found yourself in the position of being their de facto daughter. the pair had always doted on you, but you always credited that to them being two years your senior. when eunseok broke your heart (or you broke his) this increased their maternal instinct to protect you. 

“i’m literally going through a breakup and you wont give me a shot?” you put on your best betrayal act to efforts to bum alcohol off your responsible friends. both yunjin and giselle laugh.

“you and eunseok broke up months ago” giselle says.

“you tend to bring him up only when you’re drunk so i’m actually starting to think the alcohol has a reverse effect.” yunjin says. giselle’s eyes light up at the realization.

“wait that’s actually true! you never talk about him any other time.” giselle agreed.

you quickly realize this conversation isn’t going in your favor. so you pull out all the stops and become the most dramatic version of yourself. you point the red solo cup towards giselle, shaking like a leaf. you paint your face with a look of dread, like you are dying of dehydration.

“need…..alcohol” you say in a fake raspy voice. giselle playfully narrows her eyes.

“okay but this is the last shot. for all of us.” giselle is pouring a little bit into all of your cups. you three clink the plastic cups together and swiftly take it.

almost immediately after that shot your mind started tormenting you with flashbacks. eunseok having your legs spread while he felt you up everywhere. being bent over the kitchen counter completely at his mercy. feeling his big hand press on the small of your back. how he used to have you like a folding chair taking it all. you tried hard to push down the thoughts but you swear you could hear him over your shoulder calling you a good girl before you sat down on a barstool. giselle and yunjin look at you.

“everything alright, buddy?” yunjin says slowly, already knowing what you’re gonna say.

“i’m dizzy.” you confess. and it was the absolute truth. flashbacks of being with eunseok made you realize that you were starved in every sense of the word, nearly knocking you off balance. you swayed a little bit and giselle grabbed your arm.

“okay i think it’s time to call it a night!” giselle giggled as she held on to you, also a bit tipsy.

giselle and yunjin left with you in tow. walking in front of you, leading you through the crowd. you made sure that they couldn’t see you pull out your phone. your tipsy fingers worked quickly texting a number you knew you shouldn’t have memorized.

heyyy

once outside the cold air sobered you up enough to the point that you made a plan. the first step of the plan was to be sent home in an car alone.

“i don’t want you guys to stop having fun because of me.” you say, turning towards giselle and yunjin.

“the party was getting boring anyways. i just want to go home and watch some tv at this point” giselle says looking at her phone. you assumed she was looking at prices to get home. “are you cool with spending the night at our place?”

before you could answer you felt your phone vibrate. someone was calling you.

you unfortunately already knew where you were going to be tonight. you just couldn’t let your friends find out.

“i want to go home honestly. in my own bed.” you said stretching your arms out and yawn.

“are you sure that’s even safe? you drank alot tonight.” yunjin says.

“yuqi is already up around this time, if i need help she will be there for me. besides the amount of alcohol i drank was like super spread out over the night.” 

yunjin and giselle look to one another. time to pull out the trump card.

“i feel like ever since me and eunseok broke up you guys treat me like i’m a baby. i’m an adult i can make my own decisions.”

after saying that, you can see the faces of yunjin and giselle change. you know that they also want to be alone without you tagging along, sticking to their side like a child.

“it’s only because you’re drunk, that’s why.” yunjin says.

“the cold air is sobering me up. and i’m going to bed immediately once i lay down.” 

yunjin and giselle debate on what to say. before they can come to an agreement, a car comes and stops on the curb. it waits in front of the house.

your phone has since stopped ringing, instead you get a small vibration indicating a text message. you quickly take a glance at your phone to see what it says.

black rolls royce phantom license plate cvent1

call me when you get in.

you look towards the car parked on the curb. you’re certain that it’s the car eunseok sent you based on the description. 

“my ride is here” you say meekly, knowing what reaction you are going to get. yunjin and giselle look at you confused and flustered.

“when did you call a ride?” giselle asks.

“why didn’t you tell us?” yunjin sounds angry.

“yuqi called it for me, she said she owes me from last time we went out drinking.” you say, rubbing the back of your head.

you are impressed at how quickly you came up with the lie, since you are quite flustered as well. how did he know where you were? where was this car going to take you? you had so many questions but you had to seem confident that you were going home, or else they were going to tag along.

“i told you i’m fine, yuqi is going to be waiting for me outside and everything.” you assure your friends.

“okay, fine.” yunjin gives up trying to debate with you.

“text us when you get home.” giselle points at you, trying to be as authoritative as possible.

“i will. i love you guys.” you go over to yunjin and giselle to give them hugs.

“love you too bae.” yunjin says giving you a hug.

giselle gives you a hug before opening the car door for you. you make sure the door is closed before the driver says “ride for eunseok?” you nod your head and roll down the window.

“i’ll text you guys when i get home!” you shout to your friends as the car drives off.

“make sure you drink water!” yunjin yells as you drive off.

you roll up the window and click on the notification of the missed call. you expect it to keep ringing, to leave you hanging the way you left him hanging. 

it can’t even get through the first ring.

“hey. are you in the car?”

you can’t say anything back. it has been so long since you’ve heard his voice. since it’s been directed at you. your nails instinctively dig into your thigh, trying to use the pain to bring you back on this plane of existence.

“hey.”

silence. you forgot to answer his question

“yes i’m in the car.”

“alright,” eunseok says and pauses for a moment. ��it’s taking you home.”

“what? i thought it was bringing me to your place?” you say a little louder than you thought. the driver looks up at the rear view mirror to look at you.

“do yunjin and giselle know who called that cab for you?” 

god, you hated him so much. the smile you could hear in his voice. the way he already knew you were lying to them.

“they think yuqi called it.”

“they think yuqi sent you a rolls royce?”

“they don’t know cars, eunseok.”

you can hear a sigh on the other end of the line. you wonder what he’s wearing. if he’s wearing pants that hugged his legs in all the right places. or that navy hoodie that was a little too big, showing off the area surrounding his neck. you think about sweatpants drifting a little too low, that would give you the slightest peak at his body

“what are you thinking about?” 

“what are you wearing?” you try to whisper so the poor driver isn’t subjected to your suggestive thoughts you say out loud.

eunseok laughs on the other end of the line.

“how much have you had to drink?”

“i had a few but over the course of the night. i’m not plastered.”

another long bout of silence. you start thinking about yunjin and giselle’s disappointed faces when your lies eventually catch up to you. they aren’t directly friends with yuqi, but all it takes is one conversation to reveal the truth. or they could be worried that you got into a car you thought was for you.

“was it a bad idea to call you?” you say. you play with the hem of your dress.

more silence.

“well, can’t two people reconnect?”

you try to not let your smile change your tone. you grab the end of your dress, wrinkling the fabric.

“can you make this car go towards your place?”

“it already is.”

“you’re such an ass.” you groan into the phone. he was too good at playing you. 

“text me when you get here. i’ll wait for you in the lobby.”

after the driver leaves you in front of the building you sent the text. you go to the door and try to punch in the code from muscle memory but nothing happens. instead you opt to sit on the steps, trying to calculate when would be the appropriate time to text your friends you made it home safe. 

your thoughts are interrupted by the front door of the building opening. you look behind you and see eunseok staring back at you. you quickly stand up.

you two stand like that for a moment, staring like deers caught in the headlights. eunseok is the first to compose himself.

“pretty dress.” he says after looking you up and down. he walks back into the building holding the door open for you.

the two of you are now in the lobby, trying not to make too much noise. you walk down the narrow hallways of the lobby, muscle memory taking you towards the elevator.

“it’s out of service, princess.” eunseok used your old nickname and you stopped dead in your tracks. you turn around nonchalantly but just hearing that nickname has you ready to jump him in the small hallway.

“you live like five floors up.” you groan looking up the winding staircase. you make a loud clack with each step in your boots, your feet will be sore tomorrow.

eunseok lets out a breath and walks down the steps and bends down. “hop on.” is all he says.

now he’s giving you a piggyback ride up the countless flights of stairs. you try not to focus on how he’s palming your thigh, or how you can feel his toned body through his hoodie. eunseok carries you like you’re nothing and that feeling returns when you think about how he used manhandle you and toss you around like a doll. you let out a deep breath, inhaling his smell that you find so intoxicating.

he finishes going up another flight when he pulls you a little closer to his body. you pull him in a little tighter with your arms.

“how was the party?” he tries to sound nonchalant, looking over his shoulder at you to ask the question.

“how’d you know i was at the party?” you ask. although you already know. user36384847383 on instagram that always looked at your stories had to belong to somebody.

“you always do something after the bar.” eunseok looks away, realizing he might’ve gotten caught.

“i didn’t start going to the bar until after we broke up.” you say, smiling.

“we are here!” eunseok says before loudly letting you go. you find your balance as you walk down the hallway towards his door. with his hand on the small of your back, he makes sure you are balanced. his hand is almost like a ghost, not daring to push you towards his apartment in any way. despite this, it still feels like you’re heading towards your doom. months of no contact down the drain. all the hard work trying to forget everything about him has been reversed. just as you think about turning back, his hand slowly drifts down to rest on your ass. 

you’re in front of his door now, and he looks at you while turning the doorknob. you look at him, look at his lips and the flashbacks hit you again.

fuck it, it’s fine. you use your hand to push open the door and the two of you walk in.

you kick off your shoes and close the door behind you. eunseok kicks off his sandals and here you two are, standing in his entry way. last time you were here you had the last of your things in a backpack holding back tears. now here you are. tipsy and horny and confused and…

“there’s no pressure here. i know no contact was important to you. you can sleep on the bed and i can take the couch.” eunseok leans against the wall opposite of the door. you hear what he’s saying clearly, but when you see the way he’s looking at you, you can’t hear your thoughts.

you walk over to him and you grab his hand. eunseok looks at you, waiting for your next move. you take his hand and put it on your waist. instantly his hand finds purchase in the dip, squeezing like he’s trying to check if you’re real.

you look up to him and kiss his lips. he brings you in closer. you lean even closer to him. eunseok puts his hands underneath your thighs and you jump. he catches and holds you easily, deepening the kiss. 

“the couch?” you ask, pulling away. eunseok starts walking you towards his room, passing the small beat up couch.

“anton is coming home in the morning. he’s been sleeping there.” eunseok pushes open his door. you see almost nothing has changed, expect for the missing framed photos of you two.

“i thought you lived alone?” you closed his bedroom door behind you, still in his arms. 

“he needed a place to crash closer to campus while he works on some music thing. and i was a little lonely.” eunseok finishes his sentence with a little laugh. he brings you back in for a kiss and you put your hands on his shoulder and cheek. 

should you say you’re sorry? if he felt lonely because you iced him out for months? should you say aw because he’s is opening up to you? everything is too confusing all you want is to turn off your mind and feel good.

like he always has been able to, eunseok knows what you’re thinking. that’s why he wordlessly sits on the bed, back resting against the headboard. he sets you down on the bed and you face him. you look at his lips before you can lean in for a kiss, eunseok gently turns you around. eunseok pulls you into him, so your back is flush with his chest. he puts his head over your shoulder to whisper into your ear.

“spread your legs.”

you do it without hesitation. spreading your legs you also bend them at the knee. your dress bunches up above your hips as an effect. eunseok’s hands are on your inner thighs instantly, caressing the plush skin. eunseok laughs at how pliant you are. how desperate you must be.

“forgot how soft you are.” eunseok breathes into your ear. “remember how you’d always close them on me, baby? when i’d eat you out?”

how can he be so vulgar with all his clothes still on? you felt your face heating up, recalling the memories too. all you can do is nod and lean further into his chest. you let your head lean back, resting on his shoulder. you are giving him full access to your neck. and use your hands to push your dress further up your body, just below your belly button. you’ll never be able to voice how badly you want him to kiss you everywhere, not without dying from embarrassment.

“that’s how i know you aren’t getting fucked right. so hot and bothered just by this.” he laughs into your hair now. he’s got you and he’s got you good. nothing on god’s earth could pull you away from this feeling. especially when his slender finger pulls the elastic band of your panties, letting it snap back into place on your skin. you whimper, grabbing onto his arm.

“so sensitive.” his middle finger slowly touches your cunt. he ghosts the finger in a repeated motion up and down. “so. so. sensitive.”

“i’m just really, really horny right now.” you try to regain your composure or at least some sense of control. this is abandoned when eunseok smacks your clothed heat. you jump backwards, moving further into him. you can feel his dick against you.

“ouch.” you say in a breathy whimper.

“i’m sorry.” eunseok is all but convincing, smirking into your hair. his middle finger presses a little harder into you. “but i think you deserve a little pain.” eunseok goes back to slightly raising the waistband of your underwear to let it snap on your skin again.

you want to protest but you absolutely can't deny it. you take this as penance. for leaving him alone and ignoring him after the breakup. for blocking him with no explanation. for calling him for dick after getting a little tipsy. so you let your fate rest in eunseok’s hands as you let out a sigh. 

“good girl.” eunseok knows you have completely submitted to him. “i’ll take good care of you.”

eunseok starts slowly sucking at your neck and you crane it desperately to give him more space to work with. your panties have been pushed to the side and his lengthy middle finger still slowly drags itself up and down.

“you’re so wet.” eunseok presses his finger a little deeper into your slit. he repeats this motion and you can hear the wetness, like tapping a puddle.

“has anyone else seen you like this?” 

you shake your head. no one else could ever have you spread out like this. although what you and eunseok had is over, he was your first for everything. slowly the two of you chiseled away at the walls you put up in embarrassment of being in college with no experience. you found out what made eachother insane in bed. you still remember getting over the hump of showing eunseok your bare body for the first time. laying in bed naked and in embrace. eunseok telling you how beautiful you were. no one else in this world will ever have you open like this or could see you in a moment where you’re so weak.

“only you. always…only you.” you couldn’t tell if your string of words were intelligible. all you knew was that eunseok slipped his finger inside of you.

the grip on his arm only tightened as you spread your legs even wider. against your back you could feel him twitch.

“what about your fingers?”

“they don’t feel as good as yours.” you pout. now you're grinding your hips into his hand, begging for more.

“add another one.” you say, out of breath.

“say my name.” eunseok says simply.

“add another one eunseok,” eunseok uses his index finger to tease you. “please.”

eunseok has two fingers in you now. just from this and hearing his breathing in your ear you’re close to losing your mind. eunseok doesn’t even have to move his fingers anymore. you are doing the grinding all on your own. eunseok uses his free hand to pull the low cut of your dress down to expose your boobs. he pinches a nipple in his hand and you gasp out loud.

“god.” eunseok moans into your hair. you whimper in response, focusing on all the work he’s making you do. “you know i almost fucked that girl you always said liked me.”

“yeji?” you try your best to sound disgusted, but all eunseok hears is your breathy moan.

“yup. she talked big game and everything. but she can’t compare to this.” eunseok uses his free hand to squeeze your boob for emphasis.

i just…i would’ve just fucked jaehyun.” 

almost instantly eunseok removes his fingers from you. he withdraws his lips from your neck. you look back at him in confusion.

“jaehyun would never do this for you. go forward. ass in the air.”

you get on your hands and knees in front of eunseoks lap. you move a little forward as you try to hike your ass in the air as high as possible. you haven't had an opportunity to practice your arch in a few months.

“it’s like muscle memory, baby” eunseok is behind you bringing your body up slightly to perfect your form. the power in his grip catches you off guard while you become a ragdoll to him. 

you hear eunseok get off the bed and the zipper of his hoodie. he takes his time taking off his clothes, probably reveling in the fact you are waiting for him in such a compromising position.

eunseok comes back onto the bed and slowly brings your lower half to meet his. you feel his length and you moan purely from the feeling. you move your ass back in efforts to grind back on him but a handful of your ass keeps you in place. eunseok takes your panties off from behind you, helping you lift your knees off the bed to completely remove them. you don't say anything when you see eunseok put your panties in the drawer of his bedside dresser.

“be a good girl for me.” eunseok says it into your bottom half, so you’re unsure if he’s talking to you or your pussy. you comply anyway, staying in the spot he leaves you. 

you can feel eunseok staring at your spread pussy. he doesn’t say a word, nor does he touch you. the lack of interaction the anxiety starts to kick in. what if he says he doesn’t want to do it anymore? what if you think hes looking at you but hes looking at his phone texting someone? it doesn't make any sense why you look back, afraid to see his face of regret. instead you see eunseok’s face with an emotion you can’t pinpoint.

“what’s wrong?” your voice is so quiet. eunseok’s is even quieter.

“can i eat you out, baby?”

eunseok eats your pussy like a man who is starved. he started by licking the entire length of you in one swift motion. this is followed with him tonguing your slit. you try not to think too much about his nose and how it pokes your ass. eunseok pulls away from your slit and his tongue attaches to your clit. he sucks on the sensitive nub while flicking it with his tongue. you try not to rock into his face, chasing a high you haven’t felt in months. after eunseok gets his fingers in the mix you are lifting yourself off the bed. his ministrations only pick up in intensity, trying to bring you to the brink as fast as possible. 

slowly his face pulls away from your clit after straining his neck to reach it. the angle was originally pretty awkward, with eunseok on his knees spreading your cheeks to eat you out. you were under the impression that him pulling away meant you’d be getting his dick next. instead, eunseok gets on his back and pushes himself so slot in between your legs. you see his face, so serene and protected. his eyes are so brown and his lips are so plump and his hair is so mused. nothing can replace eunseok in your mind. you are too preoccupied with your feelings to stop yourself from being brought down to his face with his strength.

you don’t want to accidentally put all your weight on his face and break his neck. you try pulling yourself up, but his hands on your thighs hold you in place. he looks up at you with wide eyes, like an animal whose food is being taken away. he eats at you with a hunger you’ve never seen. before you know it all your reservations are gone and you’re riding his face.

“eunseok…it feels so goodddd.” you lean back, hands grabbing his thighs to steady yourself. “i can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“i can’t believe you’re letting me. i want to die with you on my face.” eunseok uses his hands on your thighs to bring you even closer to his face. he fucks you with his tongue, lapping up everything your body gives him.

you can feel your orgasm coming. your skin starts to feel like it’s on fire with the white and fuzzy feeling coming to you. you look down at eunseok, who is already locked into your face. he’s checking your emotions and reading you like a book. your moans are the gospel or the angel that comes to sit on his shoulder and whisper in his ear. eunseok smiles into your pussy, knowing you’re close. you want to so badly gain control of the situation, to remind him that he let you in after ghosting him. that he’s the one who got you here. so you look down at him, trying to give him the exact same knowing smirk he’s been throwing at you all night.

“you would do anything for me wouldn’t you?” you give a wicked smile as you slow your pace to grind on his tongue. “just for a taste.”

eunseok can’t speak with a mouthful of you. he opts instead to nod his head vigorously and increase the speed of his tongue.

“do those bitches that you text know what you’re doing? still just a fuck toy for your ex?”

eunseok shakes his head. he murmurs something into your clit. you ignore him again. that’s something you seem to be good at.

“i’m close eunseok. baby i’m so close.” you pick up your speed again, closing your thighs around his head. eunseok keeps you in place.

right before you reach your peak you start tapping his hands that are holding your thighs in place. 

“eunseok i wanna come with you inside.”

eunseok looks up at you and holds eye contact. you look down at him, so determined to get you to finish. before you can come to your senses and repress your orgasm, it hits you like a freight train. it makes you throw your head back and let out a cry and you ride out your high on eunseok’s face. he takes it all in stride, tongue still prodding at your entrance.

once you come down, you realize that you definitely suffocated eunseok to death. you raise yourself off of him, still suffering from aftershocks of that orgasm. when you pull yourself off, you see that eunseok has the biggest stupid grin on his face.

“hey, are you still alive?” you laugh poking his face.

“was it good?” eunseok opens his eyes. 

“it was.” you sit on the edge of eunseok’s bed, feet touching the ground. 

nothing is stopping you from getting up and walking away. you could actually call an uber to your apartment and then you could text yunjin and giselle without feeling so guilty. you almost get the gumption to do it but then you feel eunseok move up from his spot on the bed to sit beside you.

“was it too much? you didn’t use our safe word so i thought it was okay.” eunseok uses a soft hand to make you look at him. he looks worried. you don't doubt that he can feel all your conflicting emotions, sleeping with your ex. you wonder if he feels the same way.

“it was perfect, really. i needed that.” you reassure him, putting your hand over his.

“then what’s wrong?” eunseok looks in your eyes then at your lips. you look at his.

“i think i need more.” you whisper truthfully.

eunseok uses his hand to bring you closer, kissing you. he pulls away after his tongue darts out to lick your lips.

“more?” eunseok smiles. of course he’s going to make this a living hell for you. but you humor him, because that feeling is building up all over your body again.

“more.” you answer. 

eunseok goes to your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin. he pulls away before he can leave a mark.

“more.” you don’t move your neck, hoping he gets the point.

“you want me to leave a mark? what will yunjin and giselle say? or all your other boyfriends?” voice is dripping with fake concern.

“i don’t care.” you do care, but self sabotage has already gotten you this far. you are a go big or go home type of girl.

“okay princess.” and eunseok is at your neck, sucking and biting with an energy you’ve never seen from him. 

you put your hand over his dick. he’s still wearing his boxers, so you can see a wet spot. now it’s your turn to tease him. 

“i never took you for the type to cum in your boxers, babe.” you give eunseok’s dick a squeeze. “you must be really pent up, huh?”

eunseok laughs and leans back on the bed, propping himself up on his hands.

“you gonna help me out?” 

you nod. eunseok grabs your hand and leads you off the bed to stand in front of him. he reaches up to bring the zipper on your back as low as it’ll go. he sits back on the bed, back in his same position.

“take your dress off for me.” 

you slowly take off one sleeve. you work your way to the other. you let it slowly hang off the upper half of your body as you take off your bra. you drop your bra to the floor. you can hear eunseok behind you moving, probably freeing himself of his boxers. you think about how eunseok has always liked your ass, so you make a show of taking off the lower half of your dress. when that drops to the floor, you turn around facing him.

eunseok has his dick in his hand, slowly stroking himself. you forgot how mesmerizing he looked like this. eunseok was so good at keeping his composure it always felt like a treat seeing him act on his own wants. right now, he wanted you. eunseok got up from the bed and came up to you. you had to look up to see his face. the way he towered over you made you feel something you weren’t ready to come to terms with yet.

eunseok brought you into a deep kiss, as you two were in an embrace, he was slowly moving you further and further back until you hit the bed. he brought an arm behind you and led you down. when your back was on the bed, he broke the kiss.

“i still have condoms.” eunseok said looking in your eyes. he played with your hair, resting like a crown on the bed. you really were his princess

“i haven’t been with anyone,” you admit shyly “i’m still on the pill too.”

“i haven’t been with anyone either.” you had already known, but it was reassuring to hear it from him.

“can we do it without a condom?” you ask. eunseok kisses your forehead a little too sweetly.

“of course princess.”

eunseok brings you closer with a quick pull of your thighs. the feeling of excitement and nerves shoots up your spine. it really has been so long. eunseok slapping your heat with his dick brings you back to the present.

eunseok lines himself up at your entrance, and leans over both arms at your side. you grap one of his arms for stability and comfort. you just needed to be touching him.

“let me know if it hurts too much. you remember the word?”

“i remember.”

“okay.” eunseok kisses your forehead. he kisses it again and you can feel slight pressure. he starts attacking your face with kisses everywhere as he sinks deeper and deeper in. he ends with a kiss on your cheek before he bottoms out. you both moan in unison, so much time has been lost between you two. you already feel tears welling in your eyes. before eunseok can look you in the eyes, you pull his head into the crook of your neck and hold it there. without saying anything, you move your hips back and forth.

“feels good?” eunseok huffs into your shoulder. he tries to sound cocky, but you know it’s getting to him too. you can’t stop yourself from clenching around him. how the pressure feels so good and you feel so full.

“please keep going.” you whimper. 

“okay princess.” eunseok kisses your neck and he pulls back his hips to thrust back in. you settle into the pace eunseok has set. slow and deliberate, trying to hit all the spots you thought he would’ve forgotten by now. a soft hand grips your breast and you arch into his touch.

“it’s still sensitive eunseok.” you haven’t gone for a second round since you and eunseok were together, getting yourself to be relaxed while climbing towards your second climax was hard.

“i know baby i know. you don’t want me to stop though right?” eunseok took your earlobe into your mouth. his pace was getting faster, you had to reach for the wall behind you to steady yourself.

“no. please don’t stop.” you used your other arm to pull him closer. you weren’t sure if you were about to cry due to the overstimulation or the fact that you missed the man on top of you. his teasing nature, his attentiveness. how warm he was always. it was hard to remember why you ended things in the first place, especially with him moaning in your ear.

“feels so good.” eunseok kissed your cheek. he brought his arm underneath your body, bringing you into an embrace while still fucking into you.

“i miss this. i miss you.” he admitted into your shoulder. 

“i miss you too, eunseok.” you couldn’t stop the tears.

“i want you back more than anything, you know that right?” eunseok’s pace was increasing, he was close. 

“i know. i like it…” you try hard to piece your thoughts together, but your mind is becoming filled with eunseok.

“like what? me watching everything you post like some fucking stalker.”

“shows me—shows that you care.”

“can i look at you baby?” eunseok asks, the most desperate you’ve heard him all night.

you pull his head from the crook of your neck and let his forehead rest on yours. for a moment worry crosses his face as he sees your tears. he uses his thumb to wipe an eye clean. the silent acknowledgement has you wrapping your legs around his waist to bring him closer. eunseok grabs one of your legs and helps you put it over his shoulder. this new angle has you digging your nails into his skin.

“god i missed this pussy,” eunseok smiles down at you, wiping away tears from your other eye. “she’s always been mine hasn’t she?”

“yes. she wants you to come inside.” your brain fog is letting your lewd requests come out quick and jumbled.

“of course princess.” eunseok comes back down to you, bringing desperate lips to you. you can hear when he cums inside, letting out a line of profanities with your name mixed in. you can feel when he cums inside, dick pulsing. you cum after he brings a hand to your clit, rubbing revolutions on the bundle of nerves. you grip onto his arm, biting your lip to hold back a love confession.

you two ride out your highs together. eunseok’s hand comes to a slow top and he slowly pulls out of you. you both whine at the loss of warmth, but he lays next to you and pulls you into his chest. you want to protest, that it’s a bad idea for you to spend the night at his place. 

instead you opt to fall asleep when he gives you his hoodie to sleep in, head rests on yours, and he begins to rub gentle shapes into your thighs. this was arguably a bad idea, perhaps the worst one you’ve ever had. tomorrow you will deal with it, but the rest of the night belonged to the two of you.

[wosoamazing]

Different but not weird

McFoord x Child!R

Everything in italics is sign language.

Warnings: Mention of premature birth (corrected ages - nothing in depth), hearing loss, cochlear implants A/N: Not proof read properly and this is probably boring but yeah, hope you like it. (Also thank you to @alotofpockets for the help in coming up with an idea for this fic)

You were still in the NICU when Katie and Caitlin adopted you, having signed up for fostering to adopt just days before they met you. When the phone call began with “We know it may not be what you’re looking for and it might be a lot to take on,” they were hesitant, agreeing to just meet you and not agreeing to anything yet, wanting to see you and talk to the doctors and nurses to get more of a background on you. However you stole their hearts when they met you and they decided on that day they were going to adopt you. You were very small and spent quite some time in the NICU after they signed up to foster you. There were some concerns over your hearing during your time in the NICU, you had failed your AOAE and all subsequent tests. They thought it was possible it was because you were a premie and that maybe it would improve, however it didn’t, it stayed the same. So at 6 months (corrected age) you underwent surgery to have cochlear implants placed, before undergoing speech therapy.

“Ears” your Mum asked as you furiously shook your head, “Where did you put them?” she sighed. The most expensive item you owned by far was ‘lost’ somewhere on camp. 

“Looking for these?” One of the physios said as she walked up behind Caitlin, causing your Mum to jump slightly, “Oh story didn’t mean to scare you. She handed them to me during training and told me to hold onto them, and not lose them because you would get mad,”

“Thank you,” you Mum sighed as she took them, you were at an age now where you had started realising you were different. You had noticed how the other kids didn’t have to wear things on the back of their ears, with wires that connected to magnets that stuck on their head, and your Mum had a slight suspicion that another kid at preschool had said something to you about them.

“Why don’t you want to wear your ears?” Your Mum asked you as she sat down next to you, you were now sitting at the small table in the empty common room as you coloured in.

“Weird,” you replied.

“Do you think they make you weird?” she questioned further, and you nodded, “why do you think that? Because they definitely don’t,” you just looked at her blankly, “Did someone at school say something?” you nodded your head at her slightly, before grabbing your ears to put them back on.

“Said it was weird I had magnets on my head, started to stick things to them when I didn’t have my ears on,” you told her.

“That’s not right, did you tell your teacher? He shouldn’t have done that, next time anyone says something hurtful about your ears you need to tell one of your teachers or at least me or Ma okay,” you nodded, “and you absolutely need to tell a trusted adult when someone is touching your body without your permission and in ways that make you feel uncomfortable okay?” she told you with a sterner voice this time, causing some tears to fall from your eyes, “hey chook, you have no reason to be upset, you’ve done nothing wrong, do you want to have an ear break for the rest of the day? You can put them back on whenever you want, but you can absolutely take them out if you want to, like you always can, you just need to make sure you tell me or Ma when you do so,” you nodded before taking the magnets off your head and handing them to your Mum.

_____

“Hey, y/n/n, how is my best buddy going?” Macca exclaimed as she entered the common room, before looking at Caitlin when you didn’t respond, your Mum had done individual training today so they hadn’t seen you yet.

“She can't hear you,” your Mum sighed.

“Oh, is there something going on?” the goalkeeper asked as she sat down next to your MUm, sensing her worry.

“A kid at her preschool told her she was weird because she had magnets stuck to her head, and then apparently when she hasn’t been wearing her implants, he has been sticking things to her head. I am just honestly so mad that the school hasn’t noticed the fact someone is doing this to her, but also that they clearly haven’t properly explained to the kids what they are and how they help even though they told us they would. I just don’t know what to do, I can't force her to wear them but when so few people can communicate with her at things like tomorrow if she doesn’t wear them, I almost have to make her wear them.”

“What if I spoke to her, showed her that I have things to help me hear too. Would that help?” 

“Maybe, are you sure though?” “Of course Cait, I’m here to help, and this is something I would love to help her with, it took me a while to be comfortable with it and so I can’t imagine what it’s like as a kid finding your sense of self and with kids teasing you,”

“Is it alright if I call Katie while you talk to her? I need to tell her,” 

“Of course, I’ve got chook, don’t worry.”

“Katie, do you have time to talk? It’s important,”

“Of course Cait, just give me a sec and I’ll go up to my room. How was training today?”

“Yeah good, it was just me, just as a precaution but yeah,”

“Okay, I’m in my room now, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“We need to move y/n preschools and have a serious conversation with our current preschool. She took her ears off during training and when I asked why she didn’t want to wear them she told me they are weird. Some kid at preschool has said she is weird for having magnets on her head and he has been sticking things to her head when she hasn’t had her ears on,”

“What, no that's wrong, we’re moving her and putting in a complaint, how haven't they seen it happen, they surely can’t be supervising correctly.” Katie paused, “Shit, Cait, I’m so fucking sorry, I need to go, I forgot we had an extra team meeting today. But I promise you, we will talk this through further and we will fix this for her.” Katie said before she hung up and proceeded to message Steph to see if she could check on Caitlin.

“Mummy, did you know Macca has hearing aids! She’s so cool, does that mean I’m cool?” you asked as you saw Steph and your Mum enter the room.

“You are always cool chook. No matter what anyone else thinks. You will always be cool and amazing and perfect,” She told you as she picked you up.“I’m sorry for not telling you and Ma and for making you worried and upset. I promise I’ll tell you next time.” “It’s okay chook. I love you so much, never forget that.” She told you as she held you slightly tighter and you buried your head in her neck.

[angstflavoured]

A little fiddauthor analysis...

Making this post mostly just to get all of my thoughts out about it regarding how I think it is inherently very toxic on both ends, despite people treating it as more wholesome near the beginning when they were both younger… and the fact that I think it’s very incredibly one-sided. I’m strictly going to be talking about CANON events, not headcanons or speculations or AU’s. If you wanna draw Fiddleford and Ford being cute and hugging and dating, I don’t care, I like a lot of the content for them myself. It isn’t canon to the show and doesn’t affect or harm anybody. That’s what a fandom is and I’m not trying to police anyone, I just think a lot of people misinterpret their relationship and thought it would be fun to talk about it because I find their dynamic really interesting. I’m going to be using a lot of direct quotes and scenes from Ford’s journal, TBOB, and the show, so buckle in baby ! This was supposed to be a quicker and smaller one while I work on my Billford essay, but I had a lot more to say than I thought…

First off, it’s interesting to see how Ford thinks their interaction after so long is going to go. In Journal 3 he says he has “no choice” but to call Fiddleford up to work on the portal because Ford just doesn’t have the smarts to do what he wants to do himself, and he thinks he’s going to have to literally beg Fiddleford to join him. But as we see in the journal and in the show, it hardly takes ANY convincing at all for Fiddleford to drop everything he was doing and leave his wife and kid for months on end to work on a project he knows nothing about. All the info he has he got over a short phone call. It seems like Ford, at this point being so close with Bill and thinking he’s the only one who cares about him, just assumed that most people he used to talk with don’t think about him anymore. He’s had Bill whispering in his ear that he’s the only one who understands him, so it makes sense he doesn’t think Fiddleford will want to do this with him. But from what it looks like, Fiddleford either has been waiting every second for Ford specifically to get back to him, or just has been waiting for any excuse to get the hell away from his family which is… yeesh. Either way, not very healthy regarding his wife and kid. He doesn’t seem to really care all that much about either of them, but more on that later.

Obviously Ford cares about Fiddleford, as soon as he comes down to live with him, Ford hasn’t been so happy in a good while. He missed human connection, despite how good things were going with Bill. Having another person there to talk with was nice. Despite Fiddleford having strange quirks that did irk Ford, he found them endearing and genuinely felt better in his company.

But I think the biggest thing here a lot of people overlook is that Ford only ever refers to Fiddleford as his college buddy in the show, and in the journals as “my assistant.” I’ve seen so many people have Ford call him his partner, but he actually only calls him this like once in the show i think. It’s always my assistant, my research, my theory. Which is funny because Ford didn’t come up with any of this stuff with the portal on his own. Bill was the one that gave him the blueprints. Fiddleford even questions Ford at one point, asking if he had help coming up with them because of how complex they are, and Ford decidedly DOESN’T mention Bill and instead tells him “with hard work, anything is possible.” (Btw he does refer to Bill as his partner multiple times… just sayin.)

The way he talks to and about Fiddleford, Ford is always talking down. He does think that Fiddleford is smart and does think he has a brilliant mind, but he still thinks that he’s below him.

Because Ford has Bill.

And oh my lord, do I not see anyone talk about this. Soooo many comics always depict Fiddleford knowing about Bill existence, but I think the biggest roadblock with their ship and a huge point of contention is that Fiddleford never canonically knows about Ford’s relationship with Bill until after he’s already lost his mind when he’s old. He doesn’t even KNOW that he exists until he’s half sucked through the portal. People ignore this, but it’s so important to their dynamic. Ford doesn’t think that Fiddleford could handle it, and he doesn’t think he necessarily deserves to know. Because Bill is Fords thing. Their relationship is special. Ford is special.

Ford claims he doesn’t tell Fiddleford about Bill because he would throw him in a looney bin, despite their research being so whimsical and ridiculous already. They’re literally building a portal to a different dimension, Fiddleford would’ve believed him. And the way Ford talks about it, you can tell it’s less about Fiddleford thinking he’s crazy and more about something else.

Could F ever truly appreciate the complex fates that brought me and my Muse together?

He doesn’t think Fiddleford could APPRECIATE it. The language he uses, you can tell that Ford knows that Fiddleford would see right through Bill’s facade. And Ford doesn’t want that because he wants to be friends with Bill and he wants to be special, and he’d rather hide Bill and stay in denial than tell his dearest friend, just so he can feel special a little longer.

This is why I think as much as Fiddleford’s romantic feelings for Ford were there, it never ended up going anywhere. Ford would always choose Bill over him. When Fiddleford got him the axolotl pet, Ford quickly threw it out and lied about it to Fiddleford just because Bill told him to. And there’s multiple cases of interactions like this, where Bill will talk down about Fiddleford and Ford will just be like damn… yeah. Here’s a journal excerpt from TBOB around Christmas time. For context, Ford got into a huge fight with a monster and tried to contact Bill to help him, but he didn’t come. And then Bill randomly shows up later when Ford’s at home decorating.

I was almost roasted by Krampus, and where was he? Off inspiring some other scientist? Posing for some tapestry? Were we even partners? He threw the accusation back in my face. “Hey, I’m not the one skipping portal work to carouse with a third-wheel hillbilly with second thoughts about our project!” I started to argue--but he had a point. F has seemed less and less committed to work lately.

Which is INSANE !!! when we see that only a fucking page ago, Fiddleford was explaining how he got in a fight with his wife because he didn’t get her a present for Christmas. After spending multiple weeks and making multiple prototypes for a pair of 6 fingered gloves for Ford.

And if we hop back to Journal 3, there’s a particular interaction with them which is crazy to me. While hiking up a mountain to go to Crash Site Omega, they get into a fight with the Gremloblin, which fucking swoops up Fiddleford into the sky. In Ford’s attempt to get him down, they both end up falling down through the roof of a barn, where Fiddleford gets stuck full of quills and breaks his arm.

Despite our fortune, I have become worried about my assistant. I was able to treat his physical wounds, but I fear there are mental wounds not as easily remedied. For the past several nights, he has been unable to sleep, apparently still haunted by the Gremloblin’s gaze. More alarming is his Cubic’s Cube. It has sat scrambled, unfixed, on his desk for days. I myself have survived many monster attacks without trauma, but perhaps F is more sensitive than I realized…

OH. MY. GOD. The way that Ford talks so condescendingly is enough to make any person's blood boil. It’s the same way when Fiddleford gets sucked through the portal, and when Fiddleford gets pulled back, Ford’s first words out of his mouth are “WHAT DID YOU SEE!”

As much as he cared for Fiddleford… he has no regard at all for Fiddlefords VERY VALID feelings about events that would traumatize literally anyone. But he just pats Fiddlefords back and tells him to get used to it because this is just part of the job and he shouldn’t be whining so much. He does nothing to properly comfort him and scoffs it off like “apparently he’s ‘TRAMATIZED’ or something. I’ve been through so much worse and never had a problem, I don’t get what his issue is.” And then ford is SURPRISED AND APPALLED when Fiddleford creates the memory gun.

Which oohhhhh lord, the memory gun. jesus christ. Such a big example of the distrust between them on both sides. Fiddleford literally canonically lied about destroying the gun and then erased Fords memory about it so that he could erase his own memories in secret without him knowing. And also probably fords sometimes! Not completely canon, but like…. Fiddleford did it once, I wouldn’t put it past the guy. And then when they go to the carnival, Fiddleford hands out his fucking card to Ivan (the leader of the society of the blind eye, who was a teen/early 20s at the time) so that he can erase memories for him that he didn’t like.

Biggest thing we can take away from everything regarding Fiddleford’s character, is that he always takes the easy way out. He ran away from his family he obviously didn’t really care for as much as he should’ve because that was easier than talking it out or divorcing. He pushed it aside for later. Bro was literally looking for a fucken Brokeback Mountain situation, but Ford wasn’t giving anything back to him. So instead Fiddleford constantly made a fool of himself doing things for Ford and tripping over himself to show his gratitude when all the while Ford was entirely focused on Bill. and then he just goes around and starts erasing memories, because it’s easier than having to actually deal with things. Which is why I don’t foresee a reality in which Fiddauthor makes sense, in the way they actually end up doing anything together. Because Fiddleford’s too much of a coward to admit his feelings first, and Ford obviously has his sights on someone else.

And here’s the BIGGEST damning thing, like oh my god.

In Journal 3, Ford goes to a fortune teller (which don’t get me fucking started on how judgy he is to her and how much he talks down about her, DESPITE HER BEING LEGIT AND ACTUALLY WARNING HIM). Long story short, she gives Ford a spiel about how someone close to him is deceiving him. She then gives him a mood ring and says “when this is blue, you may pull through. When this is black, you can’t turn back.”

And LO AND BEHOLD!! OH MY FUCKING GOD, when they’re at the carnival and Fiddleford is talking to Ivan and whispering--

Ford. Looks down. To check if the ring is black.

I took one last look down at my hand and was strangely relieved to find that the palm reader’s ring was still blue. I shoved it in my pocket, collected F, and tried to put the whole experience out of my mind.

FORD LITERALLY THOUGHT ABOUT THE IDEA OF FIDDLEFORD BETRAYING HIM BEFORE BILL. IN FACT, HE LITERALLY NEVER MENTIONS THINKING IT WAS BILL ONCE.

He talks about how they got into a fight at dinner the night before the portal test because Fiddleford was having second thoughts about it being dangerous, and Ford told him to be there or he would get left behind. He’d do it without him.

And when Fiddleford gets pulled through the portal and quits the project, Ford says gooooddd fucking riddance, I never even needed you bro.

F, you weak-willed hayseed! Go back to your doting family and a life of fear and compromise! I weep now not for our failed partnership, but for the golden opportunity thrown away. To think I considered him a friend! I know my true friend. It is my Muse.

One of the few times he ever refers to it as partnership btw. Literally only when they break everything off.

And Ford only starts fighting with Bill about everything after it starts directly hurting him. It literally just seems like Ford is less upset about Bill’s plan being evil, and more upset at the fact that he lied to Ford LMAOOOOO he didn’t like the fact that he was disposable and lesser to Bill, despite Ford treating Fiddleford the exact same way.

At the end of all of this… it may seem like I’m really fighting against this ship, but not in the slightest. I LOVEEEE them so much, but in a way where it would be really toxic and not actually end up with anything happening.

Such a biggg theme when it comes to Ford’s character specifically is yearning. He yearns for success and attention and love and acceptance, but he’s constantly never giving other people those things. Which ends in him not receiving any in return. That is obviously until he gets back from dimension hopping and works on being a better person. When he starts towards healing, that’s when he starts receiving what he always wanted.

There’s so much tension between Ford and Fiddleford it's like disgusting, they were so incredibly gay… but, I hate to say it, it was very one-sided. They did have some fun times together and Ford enjoyed his company for quite a bit, but it was nothing like how Fiddleford felt for him. Fiddleford was always thinking about how Ford was feeling and what he was doing, and Ford never really did that for Fiddleford unless he was prompted to. But he was alwayasyayayss thinking about how Bill felt. And he always chose Bill in the end.

I just see so much of all of this get swept under the rug and never addressed, when it's kind of sad because it’s all so interesting and really adds a lot to both of their characters. They were both so morally gray back in their day, and honestly even more so now that they’re older, and its kinda sad to see that all go ignored. I JUST LOVE TOXIC GAYS SM AND THEY WERE SO TOXIC AND I’D LOVE TO SEE PEOPLE EXPLORE THAT MORE. Hopefully maybe this will prompt some people to think about it like this…….. It’s all so very tragic and their relationship was doomed from the start and i loveeeee shit like that. only misery to be had...

[peterman-spideyparker]

Just a Trim (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Author’s Note: I have been INSPIRED by Charlies D23 Expo look and thinking about it A LOT. This is just a cute, fluffy little blurb that I hope you enjoy!

Summary: When a haircut goes wrong and Matt needs to be in court in the afternoon, Karen calls in a favor. You come and save the day.

Warnings: Fluff, bad haircut, flirty Matt, some swears. Initially written in mind as fem!Reader, but I think it works as gender neutral, too!

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson, Karen Page

Word Count: 2,015

Matt loves Foggy so much. They’ve shared so many successes, losses, laughs, and straight up weird experiences. Through thick and thin, they make stuff work, even if not right away. He truly is the brother he never had. 

So it’s only fitting that Matt wants to punch Foggy flat out. 

In a loving, brotherly way, of course. 

“What the hell, Fog?” Matt calls as he folds up his cane and strides through the main reception area of Nelson, Murdock, and Page. 

“Uh, buddy?” he hears Foggy say, getting up from his desk chair and walking out of his office. “I don’t—oh, shit.”

“Yeah!” he huffs. “I thought you said he was a good barber!”

“He is!”

“Then why is my hair like this?”

“He . . . Must have been having an off day?”

“Foggy, I have to go to be in court this afternoon! I’m blind and even I know this doesn’t look good! I can’t go in to court looking like this!” Even before he was blinded, Matt was never one to be hung up on appearances. However, he knows that the rest of the world doesn’t share his viewpoints, and when it comes to being an attorney—especially an attorney in New York City—looks are everything.

“Matt, just takes a deep breath. We can figure something out.”

“Like what? I can’t fix this, I don’t think you can fix this—.”

“Hey, guys!” Karen says as the door swings open. “I just spoke with some of the other residents for the tenement case and—oh, shit.”

Matt lets out a groan of frustration as he rolls his head back in distress. “What am I gonna do, guys?”

“I . . . I’m gonna call in a favor,” Karen says, moving toward the reception area to put down purse and tote bag. She whips out her phone, tapping and scrolling until she finds the number she’s looking for. 

“(Y/N), hey!” she starts. “How are you? I’m good, but I have a bit of a favor to ask. One of my partners at our firm, he got a bad haircut, and he needs to be in court this afternoon for a tenement case. Do you have any—? Oh! Oh, um . . .” Matt can feel how Karen looks over toward him, as if she’s examining his hair for some kind of barber post-mortem. “Yeah, probably.” She sighs in relief. “You rock. We’ll see you soon. Thank you so much, (Y/N).”

Matt and Foggy wait in anticipation as Karen puts down her phone; clearly it’s good news, but they need the details. “They’ll be here in ten.”

“You have a hairdresser that makes house calls?” Foggy asks, a little confused. 

“(Y/N)'s been my friend since before I moved to the city and taking care of my hair since I came here. They're an amazing stylist. If anyone can fix this, it’s them.”

Matt nods in acceptance before moving to his office, trying to focus on some of his work to take his mind off the hair on his head. The short wait is agonizing, but his ears perk up when he hears someone approach the firm. 

“Hey,” you say as Karen opens the door for you. “I got here as fast as I could.”

“Thank you so much,” she says with a big hug. “You are a lifesaver.”

He listens to the pair of you make your way over to his office. He knows you’re going to be fixing his hair, but even still, he feels embarrassed to have you see him like this. 

“Hey, Matt, this is (Y/N),” Karen introduces.

“Hi,” you say kindly. “Sorry we’re meeting like this, but, I can make it better. Would you want me to set up in here, or is there a different spot?”

“Here’s fine,” he says with a small smile. “I can’t thank you enough for doing this. I just feel bad—I could’ve come to you. Doesn’t sound like you were too far.”

“Exactly. I wasn’t too far away. Karen said you needed to be in court this afternoon. All of your things are here; you can work and prep while I fix.”

Matt’s smile grows from something small to something big, and he can hear how your heartbeat increases. He listens as you unload your things, spreading out on a small side table as you get everything ready. 

“Do you want me to stay in this chair or sit on a different one?” he asks.

“If you cold roll over, that’d be great,” you say as you switch out one of the heads on the electric razor. He does as you ask before you turn your attention to him. “Alright,” you whisper to yourself. “Let me see what we have here.”

You gracefully run your fingers through his hair, undoing the styling that was done not even an hour ago to get a better assessment of the state of things. “It feels like they might have used a hair clay . . . Do you know what they might have put in?”

“No, I’m sorry. But hair clay sounds right.”

“Okay.” You walk wound him, analyzing his hair as your fingers card through it. “It doesn’t feel like a lot, so I’ll brush it out and we’ll go from there. For something like this, I’d ideally like to work with no product in your hair, but I’m not bending you over in the little kitchenette sink and using hand soap on you. That’d be cruel, and your hair has been through enough today.”

Matt smiles to himself as he listens to you move back to your bag and grab a different brush. He loves how focused you are. He closes his eyes as you run the brush through his hair over and over, the bristles scratching comfortably against his scalp. He’s sad when it’s over, but enjoys how your fingers card through his locks to reassess the hair. 

“It’s gonna have to be on the shorter side,” you breathe, gently tilting his head to the side with your fingers to get a view from all angles, your fingertips honing in on the sides of his head. “But I promise I’ll make it look good.”

“I trust you,” he hums as you drape an apron around is neck.

You get to work, buzzing, trimming, and combing through his hair, laser focused on the task at hand. With the way your hands handle him, he feels as if he could fall asleep in the chair. He gets so relaxed, he almost doesn’t realize that you’re finishing up your work until you speak to him. 

“How does that feel?” you ask as you put your scissors down on the table. Matt runs his hands through his hair to give it a feel. You were right, it is on the shorter side, but it’s even all around and it feels good—light, neat, and even.

“It feels good,” he says with a smile. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” you hum, taking a few steps back toward him, running your fingers through his hair again and styling it a little. “And you have a bit of a beard going, so it balances your face well. Very handsome.” Matt can hear you smile. “There.” The smile stays on your face as you gently brush cut hair off his neck before you undo the apron around him and start to fold it. “Also, I promise I’m not anti-social. I usually talk when I cut hair, but, this was a special exception. My clients usually don’t get a cut and then go up against bad guy prosecution teams in tenement cases. That kind of pressure requires laser focus.”

Matt chuckles softly as he stands, moving his chair back to his desk. “It was fun to listen to how focused you were. It’s definitely appreciated.”

“I had to make you look good for court, now, didn’t I?” you chuckle. He listens to you pull out a hand-held vacuum and clean up the hair on the floor. 

“You don’t need to do that.”

“I’m not going to leave hair on the floor,” you say as if it’s simple, obvious fact.

“You’ve already done enough for me.”

“Then this is the cherry on top,” you say, starting the little machine up. “I’m nothing if not prepared and thorough.”

Matt laughs as you quickly clean up and pack. He puts his hands into his pockets, sliding out his wallet and opening the fold. 

“Oh, no, you don’t need to,” you say, putting your hand on Matt’s to prevent him from pulling out the cash.

“You took time out of your day and your schedule to fix my hair. You came here to do it. You did your job. You just vacuumed my office. You’re going to get paid,” he kindly insists. 

“I know what kind of work you guys do here. You help so many people. You have good hearts. This is on the house.” You give his hand a little squeeze as slowly start to move from his office. “Good luck in court today. You’re gonna do great.”

He lifts his hand in a small wave and listens as you say goodbye to Foggy and Karen. When the door closes, the two of them eagerly shuffle into his office and look at his hair.

“Wow,” Foggy says. “You look like an attorney.”

“Told you (Y/N) was good,” Karen chuckles. “How does it feel, Matt?”

“Well, it feels shorter than I’d normally go, but they told me that before they started, and I said I was okay with it. It feels good, and it definitely sounds like it looks good.”

“You look like a rich guy,” Foggy chuckles. “A hot, rich guy. You’re gonna kill it in court this afternoon.”

Matt just smiles to himself, his confidence boosted, ego repaired, and his mind replaying how nice it felt when your fingers ran through his hair.

“Just a minute,” you call from a side closet when the bell on the door chimes. He listens you hop off a stool of some sort before coming out. “Hi, Claire, I—Matt,” you say surprised, but a smile growing on your face nonetheless. “H-How’d court go?”

“Good,” he says with a smile. “All thanks to your skills.”

“Oh.” He can sense how your cheeks flush. “You’re giving me far too much credit. I just gave you a haircut. You’re the one with the law degree.”

“You boosted my confidence. That’s a hell of a lot of work. Thank you for that.”

“Any time.”

He takes a couple steps forward, extending the bouquet in his hand toward you. “For you.”

“These are lovely,” you smile, taking it from his hands, sticking your nose in the fragrant flowers. “I love tulips.”

“Karen helped me with that one,” he admits. “Leaving it a just a thank you didn’t feel like enough after all that you did. I still would’ve wished you would have let me pay you, though.”

“Wasn’t gonna happen. You might be a good lawyer, but I can be stubborn. I hope the flowers weren’t your way to try and butter me up to accept payment or something.”

He laughs. “No. I figured it wouldn’t work. It’s just another way for me to say thank you.”

You take a half step forward. “And?”

Now, it’s his turn to blush. “And . . . maybe to continue that thank you over dinner tonight?”

“Oh.” He senses how your heart skips a beat and more heat rises to your cheeks.

“Only if you want to,” he tacks on. “I didn’t mean to—.”

“Oh, no, trust me, I’d love to go out with you, I—.” You stop and cringe at your eagerness, trying to pivot. “Tonight is my late night. I don’t get off until eight.”

“That’s okay. Does tomorrow work better for you?”

“That’d be great. I’ll be finished up here by six. Does that sound okay?”

Matching smiles pull at your lips. “I’ll swing by here to pick you up.”

Matt takes a half step forward, placing a kiss on your cheek. “Have a nice night, (Y/N).”

“You too, Matt.”

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[pandas-pandemonium]

Caught up with Blue Lock, and re-reading @yestrday 's musings about the yandere Blue Lock boys has inspired this lil scenario with Yandere!Nagi

The Opportunist

Content: Yandere! Nagi x GN!Reader, subtle manipulation (towards Reader), implied sexual harassment (not involving Nagi), implied yandere harem; all characters have been aged up to 18 and above

How long have you been like this? An hour? Maybe even two? You lost track a while ago since Nagi snatched your phone away and completely encased your smaller body within his much larger physique. It was suffocating, and the man hadn't moved for the past hour or so since you agreed to be his cuddle buddy as part of a deal you struck with him.

You give him an hour of your undiverted time and attention and he won't alert the rest to your location. You were desperate when you agreed, having been worn down by the mass onslaught of hungry, egotistical men who demanded every bit of your attention and physical being. There was not a single day that you weren't being hounded or dragged around by someone.

Bachira clung onto you like glue, Isagi would constantly invade your personal space, one time even showing up unannounced at your house. Even more self-centred types like Kaiser would pop up randomly at the most inappropriate times. You still couldn't believe Ness broke the lock on the bath stall just for Kaiser to force his way in. Those ten minutes in the shower were absolute hell. He didn't try anything but with how his hands "accidentally" brushed against your body, he might as well have.

And so, you were now in this predicament. On the one day, a once in a blue moon moment when no one seemed to be hovering around you, your peace was snatched away when you escaped into what you thought was an empty classroom only to fall in the trap of Nagi Seishiro.

Nagi's grip was tight. And you had no idea how he found it comfortable to be squished against the classroom table. Then again, he was using you as a pillow so maybe that was helping him. Not you, however. The blunt edge of the table was beginning to dig into your ribs and your arms were going numb.

"Nagi..." you whispered out, your hands digging into his arms, trying to pry them off you but he only tightened his hold.

"Don't go..." You craned your neck to check on him. He was just speaking in his sleep. Damn it, how strong was this guy? All he did was play football and game, so how were his arms so freaking strong?

"Nagi!" you squirmed again, trying your hardest to push yourself off of him. As you did, you felt him stir.

"Hm? Has it been an hour already?" he asked, his voice still husky from sleep.

"More than that, you dumbass! Let me go! I held up the end of my deal, so leave already!" you yelled out as you managed to pull his arms off you. The moment you felt yourself launch forward from the force needed to push yourself off him, you felt yourself crashing back down as he pulled you into his chest once more.

"You stayed," he whispered, his voice soft against your ear. You blinked.

"Huh?"

"Even though you claim to hate me, you stayed." You were starting to feel uneasy, as his arms began to creep around you again, bringing you back into that stronghold you were in earlier.

"I- I had no choice! Your grip is too damn strong!" you tried to refute, once again trying to pry his arms off you to no avail.

"That's a relief. It's such a hassle trying to get you to stay with me when all those bastards keep swarming you like pests..." You felt his nose nuzzle into your neck as he pressed his lips against your shoulder. "Reo keeps suggesting we keep you on a leash, but isn't that a pain in itself? I mean, I'd rather have you like this."

What was he going on about?

"Nagi!" you tried once more to get off him, but he only continued to press his face deeper into your skin.

"Seishiro."

You froze, and turned your head to face him. His grey eyes were staring deep into your soul.

"Call me Seishiro. Isn't that what romantic partners do?"

"Wha- we're not-"

"We should be. That way less people will try to take you from me. Why do they bother anyway? Chasing you down hallways, barging into your house... are they stupid? Those idiots keep putting so much effort to have you when it's so much easier when you fall straight into my arms like this with little to no trouble at all."

You began to feel his hands move upwards towards your face as he turned you to face him. Now that you were, he grabbed hold of your face and pressed his own forehead against yours, his eyes tinged with a hint of mania.

"You agree, right? Aren't you sick of those bastards coming after you every day? It's why you're here with me, isn't it?"

You couldn't deny that. It was true, you were sick of it. And his words made sense to you. After all, out of the rest, Nagi was one of the aces of the academy and relatively low maintenance.

Slowly, you reached up to grasp his hand in yours, and as you did, he smiled.

"Then that's settled. You better not run from me anymore, okay?"

And as you nodded, you ignored the unsettling pit in your stomach that told you were making a mistake.

[zvdvdlvr]

Your Hotchner blurbs are so fantastic I've read them all twice now! I was wondering if you have any thoughts on hotch collecting his drunk girlfriend from the bar? Xoxo

you’re so sweet, angel!! thanks for the love :)

— The One with all the Alcohal (and Jack)

“Honey?” Aaron asked, holding the phone up to his ear.

He heard high-pitched giggling in the background and knew it had to be something relating to you.

“Tell him I love him!” He heard your voice say, quiet im contrast to the voice that crackled through the phone next.

“You need to come pick y/n up,” your friend said, laughing at something.

“Yeah I’m- I’m on my way. What’s the address?”

“Hi Aaron!” You called. “I miss you, baby. Like, a lot. Almost as much as the… what’s that book you used to read to Jack?”

“I love you to the moon and back,” Aaron answered, opening the door for his son to climb into the vehicle, repeating the address your friend gave him in his head.

You giggled on the other line. “I love you more,” you said.

Aaron shook his head and smiled. “You ready, buddy?” He asked Jack.

Jack nodded. “Can i say hi to y/n?”

Aaron nodded. “Y/n, honey. Jack wants to say hi.” He handed the phone to Jack and climbed into the front seat.

“Hi, y/n/n!” Jack greeted cheerily.

Aaron started up the car and peeled out of the driveway. “Tell her we’re on the way.”

“Daddy says to tell you we’re on the way,” Jack repeated. Aaron heard you talking to Jack and then Jack’s little giggle. “Do you really think he will?”

Aaron looked at his boy through the mirror and couldn’t help but soften at the way he kicked his feet in excitement to talk to you- to go pick you up. The ring in Aaron’s desk had been heavy on his mind as of late. “Tell y/n we’re almost there, kiddo.”

Jack did as he was told and kept up the comversation. “I miss you too! Do you think you and Daddy can make some french toast tomorrow? Actually… can you make it for me? You make it better than Daddy. He burns it.”

Aaron heard you laugh through the phone and heard you say something that sounded like “I’d love to, Jackie-boy.”

Aaron pulled up to the bar your friend had said you were at. “Okay buddy. You keep talkin’ to y/n. I’m gonna lock the doors. I want you to wait until I knock on the door to unlock them, okay?”

Jack nodded. “Daddy’s coming in to get you,” he said as Aaron handed him the car keys.

Aaron kisses Jack’s head before shutting the door and hearing Jack lock the door.

— 🧠

Pushing through the sweaty, lewdly dresses bodies, Aaron was glad he made sure Jack stayed in the car. Luckily, Aaron was tall enough to see over most of the heads of people getting hammered.

Then he heard a laugh. It was most definitely your laugh. He pushed through even more people wondering how many people could possible fit under one roof.

“Y/n,” Aaron sighed in relief to himself. You were sitting at the bar, still talking to Jack; your girlfriends taking down shots by the second. Damn.

“Hey, you,” Aaron greeted, a hand on your shoulder. You turned and faced your boyfriend, not recognizing his voice.

“Aaron!” You squealed lunging from your chair into his arms, phone discarded on the bar.

Your boyfriend smiled. “Hi, honey.” Rubbing your back as you clung to him, fingers fiddling with the hair at the nape of his neck. Aaron reached for the phone. “Hey Jack. We’ll be out in a second, buddy. Are you okay in there?”

“Yeah!” The little boy answered, growing antsy.

Aaron hung up the phone and tucked it into his back pocket. “You ready to go, sweetheart?” He asked, turning his attention to you.

“Yeah, A. I-“ you paused and looked up. “Where’s Jack?”

“He’s in the car-“

“Ohmygoodness Aaron. You can’t leave him in there! He might get kidnapped! He’s- Aaron he’s too cute and sweet to get kidnapped. We gotta go make sure he’s safe,” you blubbered, emotional over the fact that Jack’s all alone.

“Okay, honey. Whatever you want,” Aaron said, guiding you through the crowd. Secretly, Aaron felt his heart swell at every interaction you had with Jack; he’d never really seen someone other than Hayley dote on him and love him like their own flesh and blood. Aaron had even asked Jack what he thought Aaron should do. Aaron remembered Jack looking up from his Captain America coloring book and his little voice saying “I won’t be upset if she’s gonna be my new mommy”. That really struck a chord for Aaron.

“Be careful, honey,” Aaron said, wrapping his arm around you waist to ensure you didn’t fall on the sidewalk.

“You know,” you began, liquor destroying any kimd of self control you still had left. “You’re way too good for me. You an’ Jack… both are the best things that’ve ever happened to me.”

Aaron stopped and swept you off your feet, delighting in the giggle you let out and the way you clung to him just a little bit tighter. “If anything… you’re too good for me, y/n. The way you love Jack as your own, make sure I get abreality check when I need one… the way you love us… you’re too good for me, honey.” Aaron said.

But you didn’t hear a single word because you were too busy admiring Aaron’s features, lightly brushing a pointer finger across his features. “Wow,” you breathed.

That made Aaron chuckle. “Hold on, honey. I gotta have Jack unlock the door.”

You didn’t really hear that either, still giving Aaron that star-struck look you do so well.

And then you heard Jack’s happy voice say hi.

Aaron didn’t say anything as he drove home. He had his hand on your thigh to make sure you didn’t move around too much, but was quiet. He listened to you talk with Jack and how involved in the conversation you were, even if he was just a little kid. Your kindness and passion would always knock the wind out of Aaron’s lungs- in a good way.

Just as he had ushered Jack inside the house and gotten you onto your feet, you had yawned and all but melted into Aaron’s side.

“Come here, honey,” Aaron cooed, picking you up bridal style. You relaxed in his arms, even if your pretty dress was growing increasingly uncomfortable by the minute.

“Jack, buddy, I’m gonna help y/n take off her makeup and get her all tucked in before reading your story,” the father explained to his son.

Even though you couldn’t really keep your eyes open, you knew Aaron was doing your skincare routine right because of how observant and thoughtful he is.

And then, when Aaron tucked you into his (!!) bed, he kissed your forehead, believing you to be asleep. “I’ll be right back, honey. I love you,” he whispered, pulling away to watch you curl up and get comfortable in his (!!!!!!) bed.

A sleepy smile painted your face as he padded out of the room: you heard him drop the ‘L bomb’.