#like why don’t you use a girl or woman from your own race in your political and social justice artwork

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Me watching the LGBT community who almost never rarely gives black women and girls, asexuals, or aromantics genuine respect, pretend we’re all friends and have always treated us right the minute it’s June 1st and want to use black women(mainly darkskinned) and girls as their little poster girl:

[norrizzandpia]

I JUST READ You Were Never What I Wanted AND NOW I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MY LIFE

IT WAS SO GOOD

IM SO EXCITED FOR THE NEXT PART (if u decide to post it)

YOURE WRITING IS AMAZING <333

Yall ask and yall shall receive! Part 1 link if you need it <3

But I Need You Now (You Were Never What I Wanted, Part 2) (LN4)

Summary: In the aftermath of Lando and Y/n, Lando makes it his personal mission to show Y/n that it wasn’t fake. Their PR stunt might’ve started out as a lie, but it was love for him and he knows it was for her too.

Warnings: language, angsty, FLUFF AT THE END BITCHES AS AN APOLOGY FOR THE HELL I PUT YOU THROUGH WITH THESE TWO-PARTERS, sexual conversations

Note: see what I did with the title… 😏 You were never what I wanted, but I need you now 🤭 also i made this less angsty as an apology again 👹

Y/n goes home for a few days.

The news spreads throughout the paddock like a virus, being whispered in every person’s ear. When it gets back to Lando, he stands in the midst of the chaos in McLaren’s garage.

Jon leaves his hand on Lando’s shoulder in a comforting manner, knowing something happened between them, but not knowing the specific details.

“She left?” He says lowly, voice wavering as he tries to gain control of it.

Jon nods, “I’m afraid so.”

“What about the race?” He asks, hands clenching at his sides.

“She’s having the reserve driver take her place. You know that.” Jon gives him a confused look.

Lando shakes his head, “No, I get that, but how could she just give up on it?”

Jon sighs and Lando can tell his trainer doesn’t want to tell him the next bit of information. He does anyway, “I heard she was pretty distraught after that gala a week ago. Apparently, she was sobbing and the valet had to help her call a cab. She was a mess, I gather, no one knows why.”

I do, he thinks. I know why, Lando thinks.

Lando abandons the conversation, not wanting to hear anymore about the girl he loves.

She plagues his dreams, his nightmares, his delusions, his thoughts, he doesn’t need her to infiltrate his life anymore.

🏎️

“What’s the problem?” He asks an hour later when Jon treats him like he’s about to have a mental breakdown at any moment.

His trainer eyes him suspiciously, gently, “Nothing,”

Lando groans, arms flying out beside him before smacking down back at his sides, “Jon, cut the bullshit. You’ve been treating me like I’m a fucking baby all day. Why?”

Jon sighs, turning to look at him before grabbing his arm and pulling them out of the garage. Jon forces them into a random hallway always away from the commotion and publicity, looking at Lando softly, “What happened between you and Y/n?”

Suddenly, Lando’s defensive. The mention of her name makes his skin crawl and his heart clench, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You two were dating.”

Lando rolls his eyes, “We were not dating. We were a PR stunt. You know that, Jon.”

Jon stares him down, “You two were dating.”

The meaning of his words hits Lando, what Jon truly is trying to address. He’s drowning in the mistakes of his own actions and the love he developed for her, no way to explain his way out of the situation with Jon looking at him knowingly.

He folds his arms over his chest, “Maybe in the end.”

Jon’s face scrunches up in confusion, “In the end? Of course, you were. Did you sleep together?”

“Fuck, no!” Lando yelps, astonishment at Jon’s bluntness, a trait the man has never had when it came to his romantic relationships.

Jon shakes his head, confusion deepening, “Then how the fuck did you two end up where you are? How did you end up in this mess? Which you still have not told me about.”

He sighs, head falling to stare at his shoes, “I fell in love with her. She fell in love with me. Well, at least I think.”

Jon, the man so incredibly lost, looks blankly at Lando, “You fell in love. With Y/n. Y/l/n. The woman you used to absolutely detest. The woman who used to hate your guts. You two fell in love with each other?”

Lando nods, “I know how it sounds, but it happened.”

Jon’s head tilts to the side, “Okay, and what happened the night of the gala?”

Jon sees the shift of Lando’s demeanor, his entire body running cold with images of her walking out on him. The boy’s body running cold, he tries to get through the night that ruined it all, “Everything was fine in the beginning. We were just talking to a bunch of donors. You know, we got so many that night. Anyways, we were at the bar and being stupid as always, getting drunk, when Lu showed up.”

“Lu as is your ex?” Jon clarifies.

Lando nods, “Yeah, so she came up to us and we just got to talking. She mentioned the fact that we still talk.”

Jon’s mouth falls open, “You and Lu still talk?!”

“Not anymore, not after the gala. She basically cut off contact with me because she ‘hated the way it made her feel when she saw the look on Y/n’s face’. But, at that time, we had been. I should’ve told Y/n when we started getting serious, but I didn’t and that came back to bite me in the ass because she was so betrayed, Jon.”

“So, she walked out of the gala because she was angry about you and Lu?”

“Yeah, she basically told me I didn’t care about her in the way she thought I had, which wasn’t true. I told her I loved her and then shit just went completely downhill after that.”

Jon’s hand squeezes Lando’s arm, “You told her you loved her?”

There’s a flash of sadness in Lando’s eyes and Jon knows it’s because of the painful rejection. He’s learning that Y/n might’ve started out as one of the people Lando cared about the least, but she had quickly become the center of his entire world.

“Of course, I did. But, she didn’t believe me. I don’t blame her too! The start of our relationship was built specifically on hatred. We never wanted anything to do with each other and then, all of a sudden, we were kissing and it was feeling like something more.”

A silence passes before Lando whispers, “Sometimes I wish I never would’ve met her.”

Jon chuckles, “You’ve said that before.”

Lando scoffs, “Yeah, but that was because I hated her. This is because I can’t deal with the fact that she left me.”

“Have you tried to talk to her?” Jon inquires, eyes roaming Lando’s face in search of an answer.

“No,” Lando responds, grief and remorse soaking his tone.

“Well, maybe that’s where you need to start.” Jon smiles.

“In order to do what?” Lando’s lost on the insinuation.

“In order to get her back.”

It’s heartbreaking the way Lando stares up at Jon as if he’d just single-handedly restored all senses of hope and happiness into his body, “You think I can do that?”

“I think that you and her loved each other too much to let it go to waste this way.”

Maybe you’re right, he thinks. Maybe I need to find out for myself, he thinks.

—

Y/n, the girl he hated so much for the love she made him feel, was locked up in her room of her childhood home, information Lando gained from her mother who he had called quietly. It was the first time they had spoken, but it wasn’t the first time she had heard of him. Her daughter had shown up in the middle of the night, sobbing to her over a boy and berating herself for allowing a man to hurt her in the way he had.

However, with the undying kindness Y/n shared, she had patiently heard Lando out as he explained to her the feelings he harbored for her daughter. Strong words of love had persuaded her into giving Lando their address and giving him permission to come. After all, she saw the way her daughter’s Lock Screen lit up with a loving picture of them every time Y/n got a notification. She clocked the picture as the room where Y/n had been hospitalized after her crash, Lando laying on the bed beside her with his arm wrapped safely around her shoulders, a kiss to her cheek as she smiled at the camera.

Bags packed and in hand, Lando stands in front of her house, hood pulled over his head with sunglasses shoved over his eyes. He takes two steps at a time, bypassing multiple steps in the process as he reaches the front door in no time.

Knocking on the wood, Lando waits patiently before the lock is turning and her mother is appearing before him. Dressed in jeans and a sweater, she smiles softly at him, a smile resembling the one Y/n had adorned him with before he made her feel less than the most important person in his life.

“Hi, Ms. Y/l/n. Thank you for this.” He says quietly, not wanting Y/n to hear him and get scared.

She nods at him, opening the door and letting him step in, “As much as you hurt my daughter, I think this space is effecting her worse.”

He lingers in the doorway, nerves getting to him as he stares at the steps in front of him, steps he assumes would lead him to her.

Her mother notices his eyes, “She’s up there if you want to go.”

He takes a step toward them, but takes on back and looks at her with tension in his face, “Do you think she’ll want to see me?”

Her mother’s head moves side to side, “I think, at first, she’ll be mad, but she’ll warm up. I know she still loves you, that’s still there.”

He nods, “What should I say?”

His words relay quietly and her mother lays a hesitant hand on his arm, “Why are you here? Why are you fighting for her?”

His answer comes easily, “Because I love her. Because, after years of hating each other, I realize that I never truly, fully hated her. I hated that she was better than me and the fact that she was winning races more than I was, but I never hated her. I never gave her a chance to show me who she was and it took someone forcing us to be together for me to see how amazing she is. I’m remorseful for that, of course, but I’m happy it happened. If it hadn’t, I wouldn’t have realized the happiness that was standing in front of me all along.”

Her mother smiles brightly at him, “Tell her that.”

🏎️

The door creaks as Lando pushes it open, head poking in to see her laying with her back to him.

“Mom, can I just have some time alone right now?” Her broken voice whispers, curling further into herself as Lando steps in and closes the door.

He doesn’t say anything, opting to walk over to her bed and sit down. The mattress is larger, putting space between them so he’s not touching her.

“I can hear you breathing. Please leave.” She says again, this time pleading desperately.

Lando exhales before lifting his hand and laying it on her hip, his thumb rubbing soft circles lovingly. He feels her body tense, her head looking down to inspect the fingers wrapped around her skin.

She pulls away quickly, sitting up and whipping her head around to meet his eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing here?! You should be at the race!” She yells at him, shifting farther away from him.

He hates how tired she looks, how puffy her eye bags are from a mixture of exhaustion and tears. His body turns to completely face hers, his leg being pulled onto the bed, “Your mom gave me the address and I got the reserve driver to cover for me.”

Y/n scoffs, “Okay, why would my mother do that?”

“Because she knows I love you.”

Y/n’s eyes glaze over, iciness translating in her every move, “How would she know that?”

“I called her.” He states simply, watching her eyebrows stitch together.

Her head tilts, “How did you get her number?”

“From Nick.”

Y/n body rears back, “My trainer?! You coerced my trainer into giving you my mother’s phone number?! Are you fucking crazy?!”

“For you, yes.” He smiles softly. His comment earns an eye roll.

“Y/n, just listen to me.” He begins, but Y/n raises her hands in objection.

“No, Lando. Leave me alone. I appreciate the effort, but leave.” Her hands push his arms, doing nothing to move him.

He gently takes her hands in his and shifts closer to her, “No. I’m not leaving until you hear what I have to say.”

Knowing how stubborn he is, Y/n sits back and gestures for him to continue.

“When I first met you, I hated the success you had.” He starts.

Y/n laughs, “What a great start!”

“Let me finish.” He states, “I hated the success you had and I was dumb enough, young enough to think that meant I hated you too. So, I spent years resenting everything that had to do with you. I never gave myself one moment to reflect on the reasoning for my dislike of you. If I had, we wouldn’t be here right now. Part of me hates that, hates that I spent so much time treating you in a way you never deserved, but another part of me, the part that has fallen so hard for you, is happy it didn’t. If I had realized that I was just jealous of the race wins you were claiming, I would’ve been cordial with you, never getting close enough to get to know who you are out of the envy I held against you. If it had gone down that way, I would’ve never gotten to meet you. And I mean the person you really are, underneath all the PR trained, guarded skin. I would’ve never fallen in love with you, never experienced you and the happiness you have provided me with. It took us so long to get here, through hurtful insults and screaming matches, I can’t let you slip through my fingers, your love with it, because of my stupid mistakes. I won’t let that happen.”

Y/n stays quiet after he completes his last sentence, staring at him as she decides what she wants to do next.

Softly, she says, “Why didn’t you tell me about Lu?”

He sighs disappointedly, “I don’t know. Truthfully, I didn’t think it meant that much. In my head, I didn’t love her. I was just ending a relationship on good terms. I didn’t think far enough to get to you. I’m sorry for that. If I could go back and sit you down, explain to you what Lu and I were doing, the fact that it meant nothing compared to what I feel towards you, I would. You deserve that conversation. I don’t know if that means anything to you, but I hope it does. She was never going to mean the same thing to me as she had before after I first kissed you. Truthfully, she never did mean the same thing to me as you do. I’ve never felt this way for anyone before.”

Y/n nods slowly, gathering her thoughts, “When did you start loving me? When did it stop being hate? Because that night at the gala, at the end of our conversation, you hated me again.”

Lando shakes his head, “First of all, I didn’t hate you that night. I was just hurt and it translated to something ugly, which I can’t apologize enough for. Second of all, I don’t know when I genuinely started loving you, but I know I realized it when you crashed. When I was running throughout the paddock, I could not get away from the heavy pit in my stomach that only pointed toward one thing, I knew that. I tried to push it away, tried to forget about it, but when I saw you laying there, bandaged and alive, it just hit me. I loved that you were still there, I loved the relief that spread through me, I loved the happiness I felt when I saw you breathing, and, then, I just loved you. It built exactly like that. I was just listing the things, in my head, I adored about the moment in order to get away from the severity of it, and then it was just you. You, you, you, you.”

Y/n’s small smile graces his eyes and he moves closer to her, sitting with his legs folded on the bed and his hands over her thighs. The two of them breathe each other in before Y/n is shuffling closer to him. His arms immediately move from her legs to snake around her torso, folding open his legs and pulling her into him. She lays her shoulder against his chest, her head falling to the side to nuzzle in his neck as her legs spread in front of her, lying over his thigh. She plays with the hem of his hoodie as he kisses her temple, laying his head on top of hers.

“You know, I love you too.” She says into his neck. A warmth spreads through Lando, happiness buzzing all the way down to his toes at her confession.

It’s all he’s ever wanted to hear, “I had an inkling.”

She lightly smacks his stomach, giggling, “Don’t be a smart ass.”

Just as he’s about to rebuttal, his phone begins vibrating harshly in his back pocket. His arm reaches around to pull it out, Jon’s face illuminating the screen.

Y/n laughs, “Can I answer it?”

The idea makes him shine with pride, knowing Jon will be proud to hear Lando’s gotten his girl back. So, he plops the phone in her lap with a smile.

Clicking the green button, Y/n puts it on speaker.

“Lando? Did you get there okay? Have you spoken to her yet?” Jon’s rushed voice says quickly.

Y/n gives Lando a playful look before answering, “He got here okay.”

There’s a silence before Jon is cackling, “AHA! IS HE THERE?! LANDO, I TOLD YOU!”

The couple laughs at his antics, Lando moving closer to the speaker to say, “I’m here and I’m starting to think I should listen to you more.”

There’s shuffling on the other end of the phone before they hear Jon screaming to, what they assume is, the entire McLaren garage, “LANDO AND Y/N, GUYS!”

Again, silence, murmuring even, before the entire room erupts in cheers. Lando can hear it’s just his crew, the group of men knowing how much it stressed Lando out to have her mad at him, the reason she was, they didn’t know.

Y/n and Lando break into tears over their laughter at the men on the other end of the phone. It’s therapeutic to see her laughing in his arms again, a sight Lando didn’t think he would see again.

She’s leaning into him as the men continue to cheer, holding him as her body racks with laughter and all he can do is hold her closer, tighter.

He holds her like she’ll leave him again if he lets go, a thought he knows is so preposterous. Because she’s got her eyes closed, blissed out in his presence and he can see the lines of tension wither away.

She’s safe with him, she shows that through the way she hugs him and softly kisses the side of his neck when he ends the call.

When the noise stops and quietness envelopes them, the couple is left with just each other. He lays them down, her body relaxing into him as she murmurs how much sleep she’s lost over their dispute.

He whispers back, “Go to sleep, then, love. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He watches her eyes flutter close, her head falling further into the crook of his neck when she crosses the line between consciousness and unconsciousness.

Lando’s not tired, however, only laying down with her because he’s not ready to let her go yet. His eyes wander around her childhood room, pictures of a toddler Y/n winning karting races and different championships. Her toothy grin is a charming sight, a look she hasn’t lost in the years of her growth since then.

After inspecting and finding nothing, but more things to love about her, Lando’s eyes avert back to her sleeping form. He brushes the hair out of her face lightly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before whispering against it, “At first, you weren’t what I wanted, but I absolutely need you now.”

Tags (i forgot to put these lol): @toasttt11 @megumilovesme @the-untamed-soul @evieepepi08 @igotnorrrizz @im-an-overthinker @cxrlha @ssrcsm @landoslover @minkyungseokie @luvrrish @louvpdf @weasleyreidstyles @ushygushybaby @theycallmeahugger @sainzluvrr @itsjustaninchident @gavisuntiedboot @gracielukey @formula1mount @cjjydes282clo @ssararuffoni @aexitizen

[tojiphile]

you don't need other boys when you have him, your daddy’s best friend. he’s everything you’d ever need and more, better than all the boys—he’s a man. a good man. these are the words he croons into your ear every time he sneaks into your room late at night, slipping an arm around your waist and his cock in your eagerly waiting cunt.

it all started when you had a fight with your dad. even though your dad was hosting his own birthday party, you sulked all night. your dad didn’t try to hide his own snide comments, so why should you? you didn’t greet guests nor help out, instead choosing to use your phone, drink as much booze as you could and retire to your bedroom early.

as you lay in bed, you could still hear the reverberations of music and the boisterous laugh of middle aged men and women alike. you groaned and covered your head with a pillow, trying to drown out the noise. so when he knocked on your door, opened it when you didn’t answer, and walked in, you jumped when the weight shifted on your bed as he sat down.

“i didn’t mean to scare you,” he says kindly, lending you a smile, “you just seemed… off, today. i wanted to check in on you.”

you sit up. this man was your dad’s best friend of years. not having any kids of his own, he spoilt you rotten. he bought you all the toys and pretty dresses that your dad refused to, arguing that they were too expensive before throwing money at gambling or whatever new woman walked into his life. as you grew up, you couldn’t help but develop a soft spot for him. when you sat still and pretty during dinners and parties, nodding along like a good girl your father demanded you be, your eyes always fell on him. his charming disposition, the way he chided your father like no one else could, and the way he’d always put food on your plate first, giving you a wink as you said thank you wordlessly.

of course, when your friends would talk about dilfs, your mind would never go to your father, the deadbeat dad who provided nothing for you. instead, you would always think about him. his salt and pepper hair that he ran his calloused hands through, smile lines set on his face more defined than any wrinkles, his toned body that you would dream about, touch yourself to every night. you were suddenly conscious that you weren’t wearing a bra. nor shorts.

“i’m fine.” you pull your blanket up to cover your chest. maybe it was the six pack of beer or the cask strength whiskey, but your head was pounding, and your heart was racing. he put a large hand on your thigh. your blanket hid your bare skin from his, but his gentle touch already sent heat pooling in your lower body.

“i’m sorry about your dad,” he says, “he’s an idiot.” he rubs your thigh reassuringly, perhaps innocently unaware of what he’s doing to you, “he doesn’t know how to treat a woman. much less his perfect daughter.”

you flush. was he really saying this? he continues, “i’ve tried to tell him so many times, y’know? how amazing you are, so filial, better than so many other daughters this day and age. he keeps blaming it on your mum leaving but god, that shouldn’t be a fucking excuse.”

he’s working himself up, you can tell as his brow furrows, his arms tense. it feels good to be validated, especially when your father was so unmoving. you place a hand on his toned arm, “i’m fine, but thanks.”

“but you shouldn’t be fine!” he stands up, pacing. you internally bemoan the loss of contact, “if i was your dad, i’d never treat you this way,” he sits back down softly, brushing a stray hair behind your ear, “if you were mine, i’d take care of you.”

his flushed face is inches from yours, you can smell the whiskey on his breath and see the heat in his gaze, almost blazing. he cups your face gently, eyes studying your face before falling back to your eyes, “you’re perfect, so beautiful.” you hold his gaze, you don’t know where this is going but you don’t want this moment to end.

the moment ends when you both hear your father yell and a beer bottle break. he must have lost in a game of poker. before you can react, your father’s best friend shoots up, “i’m sorry,” he trudges towards your bedroom door, “i shouldn’t have come up.”

his hand is already on your door handle and your mouth acts before your brain can stop it, “no.” he turns to look at you.

your pull the blanket off, revealing your bare legs, nipples perky against your thin shirt, “stay.”

his breath hitches, and you can see his pants tightening. he can’t peel his eyes away from you but he manages to mutter, “it’s wrong.”

you turn your body to his, spreading your legs and placing your feet on the bed, exposing your core to him.

“please.”

whatever self control he had left seems to have evaporated at the pleading sound of your voice as he clicks your door lock into place and races over to your bed, forcing you to lie flat as he climbs on top of you, slotting himself between your spread legs, trapping you under him.

“you’re beautiful,” he whispers, leaning down to press featherlight kisses on your neck, “so beautiful.” you gasp as a hand grips your waist, running down the side of your figure.

“but this is wrong…” he tries to pull away but you stop him. “i don’t care.” you yank him by the front of his shirt, pulling all his weight on top of you as you press your lips together, running your hands down his broad back. he takes a second to react but follows your lead, he nips at your bottom lip and as you moan, he slips his tongue into your mouth.

he breaks away from the kiss, sitting up to pull off his shirt, revealing his defined abs. you let yourself feel him, reveling in the feeling. he leans back down, gaze never leaving yours but just as your lips are are about to meet, he stops. you can’t help but whine, though the sound is replaced by a gasp as a calloused hand cups you through your panties.

“you’re already soaked,” he laughs, “good girl.”

embarrassed but so unbelievably desperate, you let out a sigh, “only for you, daddy.”

he scoffs, “i know.” he pulls your panties aside, revealing your puffy pussy, “this isn’t the first time i’ve come up to your room.” he spreads you with his fingers, and you shut your eyes in anticipation, “i tried to find you last week to say goodbye but your walls are really thin. i heard you call out my name.”

the last time he was over, he must have come from the gym as his damp hair along with the tightest compression shirt you’d ever seen was enough for you to squeak out a tiny “excuse me”, before running to your room before you creamed yourself right there at the dinner table.

he slips two fingers into your greedy cunt, snapping you back to reality. he moves slowly, but his long, slender digits worked their magic, loosening you up while hitting at that spongy spot inside you. his thumb finds your clit and moves in small circles, causing your brain to short circuit. he hadn’t done much but the pleasure is insurmountable, the whole situation overwhelms you, and you find your core tightening, close. “cum for me,” he kisses down your neck, sucking near your collarbone. at his okay, you chase your release, writhing under him as his fingers continue working.

“so good for daddy,” he kisses you as you pant softly.

he slips his fingers out of your cunt and display them to you, slick and dripping. “messy girl.” you squirm as he spreads his fingers, showing off your viscous juices. he maintains eye contact with you as he takes his own digits in his mouth, sucking them clean, tasting you.

"sweet, just like you." he proclaims, booping your nose with the same finger that was just in his mouth seconds earlier. “can you take more?”

you nod. he grins, pressing a chaste kiss onto your lips. he sits up, one hand caressing your face and the other unbuckling his belt. he pulls it off in a swift motion, but before he can begin unbuttoning his pants, you move your hand to do so. "allow me," you smile up at him, puppy eyes glinting.

"someone's excited." he laughs, moving his hand to allow you to work on his buttons. his other hand, still on your face, makes its way down slowly, before his grip finally rests on your neck.

you unbutton his jeans and are faced with his grey underwear, straining from his bulge. “keep going,” he nudges you with his free hand. you pull at his waistband, allowing his cock to spring free. it’s thick, veiny, and big, bigger than any of the other boys’ you’d ever been with. tentatively, you wrap a hand around his length, causing him to hiss softly. your thumb doesn’t meet your fingers, so as you start pumping him slowly, up and down, you have to use two hands to grip him tight.

“god, you’re amazing,” he says with a sigh, giving your neck a gentle squeeze, gazing at you like you’re the most beautiful thing that’s ever crossed his sight. when you meet his eyes you can’t help but look away. still, you manage a whisper, “i- i want you.”

“say that again?” he asks, distracted by your hands working to unravel him. you flush.

“i want you…” you meet his eyes, “…in me.”

he barks out a laugh, spurred on by your boldness, “anything for you.”

he moves to stand up, shrugging off his bottoms. he moves to your bedside table and rummages around, looking for something. “any condoms?”

you shake your head. “i must have ran out. are you clean?”

he laughs. “considering you’re the first person i’ve fucked in a few years, i’d hope so.”

“good,” you hide a cheeky smile, before giving him your best puppy dog eyes, “because i really, really want daddy to give me his babies.”

with a raise of an eyebrow, he accepts the challenge. he always loves you best when you’re confident. makes him want to ruin you. he climbs back over you, spreading your thighs apart and aligning the tip of his cock with your dripping cunt.

he looks at you for your approval, and at your nod, he pushes his tip in. you gasp at the stretch, his thick cock opening you up like a present. you wanted him, no, needed him to fill you up, to make you feel so, so full.

you rut into him and he gets the hint, pushing himself deeper into you. it starts to feel painful, and you clench around him, trying to seek some relief. your fluttering walls make him feel so good, too good. he could feel himself coming close. “don’t do that!” he warns, but it comes out more as a moan.

you disobey, of course, and squeeze tighter. wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him in deeper, causing you both to breathe in a sharp intakes of breath. any pain had evaporated into the pooling warmth in your stomach.

both of you stay in that position for a while, eyes locked. “fuck it,” he growls under his breath, grabbing onto your waist and pulling your body away from his, before snapping it back. he’s thrusting in, and pulling you off, all while his curved cock continues to hit that sweet, sweet spot that makes you see stars. you almost fall limp, but wanting to prove yourself, you start fucking yourself on his cock, lifting your hips and trying to move yourself to ease his load.

“such a good, a good girl. my good girl. my girl. my girl. mine.” he chants it like a mantra, each syllable a beat he moved along to as he fucked you silly. “who owns you?”

“you, daddy!”

he places a hand on your bare stomach and squeezes. following the curve of your body, he finds your breast. he takes your whole boob in his big hand, squeezing it so tightly it hurt. he moves to play with your nipples, rolling it around between calloused fingers, pebbling it. you moan and arch your back, allowing him to sink deeper into you.

“what a good girl you are, huh? fucking yourself on his cock. my pretty, pliant girl. ‘m gonna fill you up with my babies. wanna see your cute little stomach swell.” he lifts one of your legs, tucking it over his shoulder, allowing him to go even deeper than you thought he could. you’re squirming, trying to keep up with his relentless pounding but god it’s too much. his hand wanders your body, gripping at your tender flesh. he wants to feel you, every part of you.

just the thought makes the pooling heat in your stomach come to a boil, your toes curling, you cry out, “i’m gonna cum!” he continues fucking you, his stamina never letting up, “cum for me, my pretty girl, i’m close too.”

the pleasure is building to a climax and as he places a hand on your neck and squeezes, you feel your high washing over you, cunt convulsing over his cock. his grip doesn’t release, and black spots start to cover your vision, making you let out a shaky moan.

as he looks down at you, back arching and falling while he fucked you through your orgasm, the obscene sight of your precious body squirming under him is what takes him over the edge. he’s cumming into you, warm jets of white shooting straight into your cunt. his head empty other than his relentless thoughts, “mine, mine, mine, mine, mine.”

you both reach that peak together, gripping onto each other for dear life. when you’re all done, he presses a deep kiss on your lips and slips his softening cock out of you, rolling to lie by your side. still, greedily, he pushes his cum back into you, “take it all.”

he opens up and lets you roll into his arms. he places a gentle kiss on your forehead, and smooths out your tangled hair. you both lie there in comfortable silence, your eyes falling shut and his focused on you. soon, your breathing became even. when you fall asleep, he rolls himself out of your bed, looking down at your sleeping form, so peaceful and worry-free. he wants you to look like that always. slowly, he gets himself dressed to rejoin your dad’s party downstairs. tucking you in, he presses one final kiss on your head and whispers,

“good girl.”

GETO SUGURU, gojo satoru, zhongli, hajime iwaizumi, NANAMI KENTO, tetsuro kuroo, aki hayakawa

[rafeandonlyrafe]

bad f*cking friend: part 1

words: 2.3k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, male masturbation

part 2 part 3

rafe wakes up in the middle of the night, unsure of what caused the sudden jolt that shook his body. he waits for a noise, for a light, something that gives away what disrupted his slumber, but he finds nothing.

his eyes dart to your side of the bed. he had almost forgotten you were sharing it with him, until his ears picked up your deep breathing, clearly still asleep, so you weren’t the cause of him being awake right now. his eyes flutter closed, feeling the warmth from your body even though you’re a foot away. it’s radiating under the covers, enticing him to get closer, but he knows he can’t.

it was a fluke, a mistake made by the hotel. the room that should have contained two queen beds contained just one king, and all other rooms were full for the night. you shrugged and said you could share. you’d done it before, afterall, but not since you were kids. before you had grown taller, fuller, before you transformed in front of your best friends eyes from an awkward little girl with pigtails and braces to a beautiful woman, with piercing eyes and an ample body.

it’s what makes sharing the bed different this time. rafe is supposed to be your friend, but the thoughts that infect his mind when he’s around you now are anything but friendly.

rafe realizes, now that he’s thinking of you, the reason why he woke up in the night with the room cast in darkness, only a dull light coming in from the moon and stars of the open curtain. you’re on the fifth floor after all, no one can see us. that’s what you’d said to him, in your sickly sweet voice that makes rafe want to kiss you and more until he knows what that voice sounds like calling his name in pleasure.

his hand snakes down his torso, he briefly imagines it’s yours, but then shakes his head. bad friend, he thinks to himself. he presses his hand over the crotch of his pajama pants, feeling how hard he is, so hard it’s painful. you’ve taken all of the comforter in the night, and rafe can see himself. see the way he’s straining against the material.

the blood supposed to be supplying his brain, making him make good, rash decisions, must have all flooded south, because before he can help himself, rafes hand is down his pants, underneath his boxers, and wrapped firmly around his shaft. he almost lets out a groan, but settles for a light sigh in relief instead, eyes flickering over to you, making sure you don’t move.

he can’t help it. it’s your scent, it’s the knowledge that you’re right there next to him. that underneath the covers keeping you warm, is your flimsy excuse for pajamas. a loose shirt that falls just right on your breasts that theres no guessing whether you are wearing a bra or not, the answer is clearly no, the outline of your nipples visible no matter how you adjust the shirt to lay over you. and then the shorts. rafe is positive they only cover an inch, no more than that, more than your underwear does. they’re tiny.

a thought suddenly races through rafes head, making him give one firm, steady stroke of his cock. are you even wearing underwear?

it’s too much for rafe. he knows he should get up. he knows he should just finish himself off in the bathroom, not right here where you could look over at any time and see his hands down his pants. he takes a deep breath and pulls his hand out, even though his cock is still begging for attention. 

“y/n.” he says softly, a whisper his own ears barely pick up. “y/n.” he repeats your name slightly louder, looking for movement on your side, but it’s all still, just the gentle up and down of your chest rising and falling with each breath.

rafe lets out a mental curse. bad fucking idea. but his hands are moving faster than his mind is, pushing his pants down just enough to reach in, releasing himself from the confines of the cotton. his eyes stay on you even as he wraps a hand around the base of his cock. it’s partly to make sure you don’t wake, that your eyelids don’t even flutter, and if they do that he can tuck himself back into his sweats before you see. but the other part, the bigger part, is that he’s thinking of you.

bad fucking idea. bad fucking friend. but as his hand strokes up and down, his eyes and his mind stay on you. he thinks of the first time he realized you’d grown up. it was on his dad’s boat. rafe took you and a couple other friends to swim, and when you whipped off your cover up to reveal the almost indecent bikini underneath, rafe felt a feeling rush through him that he never imagined he could have had about you. pure, almost uncontainable, lust. 

he had shook it off that day when you looked at him and teased him. it reminded him that you’re his childhood friend, not a woman to be lusted after, not a woman he should masturbate to. he threw himself at your friend that you brought on the boat with you. it was wrong, and he imagined you the whole time, but he fucked her that day, back at tanneyhill after you went home. he fucked her so deep into his mattress, pressing her face into the pillow and plowing her from behind. but she didn’t have your same hair color, didn’t have your soft waist or grabbable hips.

your hips. rafes hand speeds up, thinking about touching them. about laying his hands over them, about squeezing them. 

his eyes flutter closed as he pictures what your ass would look like uncovered by material. what lies in between your thighs, what he’d do anything to get any part of him on, his fingers, his tongue, his cock. what your face would look like twisted in pleasure. how you would moan, and he would be the cause of it.

rafe’s eyes snap open, regretting closing them as you rustle, turning to face him. rafe holds his cock at the base, ready to tuck it in, to hide it in shame, but while he can’t see your face now that it’s hidden in shadow, you fall still again. rafe lets out a silent prayer to whatever is keeping you asleep right now, wondering if you’re dreaming of him since you’ve plagued his dreams for the past few years. sometimes it’s innocent. holding your hand, hugging you, but most of the time his dreams of you cause him to wake up in a puddle of sweat and rush to take a cold shower. it all seemed so real, how he’d fuck you against the wall while you whine for him, trying to keep quiet. how he’d bend you over a countertop, or get down on your knees for him. but those are just dreams.

his hand starts to move again, satisfied that you’ve been still and quiet for long enough that theres no way you are awake, even if he can’t check your eyes. surely you would have said something if you were awake. surely you would have been shocked by his hard dick, standing at attention in the moonlight and let out some sort of noise, some sort of gasp. but his ears didn’t pick anything up.

his cock is pulsing in pleasure. it’s not the first time he’s masturbated to you, but he’s never done it with you so dangerously close. it’s thrilling, thinking of you waking up, of catching him. what your response would be. would you sink your lips down on his cock, would you watch in fascination, would you turn away in disgust? 

the first time rafe masturbated to the thought of you was kind of on accident. you posted a photodump on instagram and tagged him in one of the pictures, and the notification popped up midway through a masturbation session where he was very studiously keeping you out his thoughts, focusing on the porn pulled up on his phone. sure, the actress looked like you, but that certainly wasn’t why he picked it, at least that’s what he was trying to convince himself of at the time. he clicked the notification and cummed before he swiped through all the slides when there was one of you in a swimsuit, lying on a towel with a book on your stomach, clearly going to be picked right back up and continued to be read once the photo was taken.

your legs were slightly ajar, so rafe could see a peak of material between your thighs, and that was where his eyes had focused when he burst, cumming harder and longer than he ever had before. 

he continued to jerk off to you after that, no point denying to himself anymore the effect you have on him, but he tried not to look at your pictures. he liked the image of you in his head, like he could separate the real you, his friend, the one he’s known since kindergarten, with the naked, impassioned person of his daydreams.

rafe lets out a moan before he can help himself. it’s quiet, would have been barely audible if there was any other noise in the room, but even the highway outside the hotel has gone quiet. he keeps himself more alert now, not letting himself get lost in the lust, lost in the way his thumb swipes over the head of his cock, imagining it’s your tongue against tip.

he needs to get off, desperately, he knows that there’s no stopping it now, but he needs to do it quickly and quietly, already risking so much, especially now that you’re facing him. you could blink your eyes open at any point.

rafe goes faster. he hates not being allowed to draw out his pleasure. it’s shameful how long he spends masturbating when it’s to the thought of you. when other people would be on their phones, winding down watching tv or scrolling through social media. rafe is on his bed, eyes squeezed shut, hand around his cock and you on his mind. 

he thought once about telling you. confessing, maybe not that he’s been spurting white all over his bedsheets to the thought of you for the past year, but at least his attraction, but when you came over the next day to hang out, you thanked him for always being such a good friend as he listened to you complain about your annoying college professor, and rafe knew he couldn’t say anything. he couldn’t betray you, sweet, innocent you, the one who not just wanted his friendship, but needed it. 

rafes breathing increases in speed, panting as he brings one hand to grip the bed sheets. he is about to cum, so close to letting himself go, but then he realizes he can’t just let himself go over his own pants, visible for you in the morning sun to see the white stains, so his hand slows. he wants to groan out, he almost wants to cry, feeling a bite of tears in his eyes, but he holds them back.

not knowing a better solution, he is as silent as he can be as he takes his shirt off, cringing at every rustle of the fabric as he takes it off. he drops it into a heap on the mattress next to his hip, ready to grab and collect everything. he will just pass off being shirtless in the morning as getting too hot in the night. 

his hand returns to his cock, hips raising slightly to meet his strokes, grateful that this hotel mattress isn’t squeaking and revealing how bad of a friend he’s being to you right now. rafe swears he hears you make a little sound, but it must just be a sleep noise as you remain still.

he imagines you loud, so loud that you’re screaming for him as his hands are on either side of your head, his hips driving into yours, grinding down onto your clit. he imagines his lips pressing against yours, swallowing your sounds of pleasure as you cum together, your body lifting upwards, pressing against his.

it’s the thought of finishing together, with himself pushed as deeply inside of you as your body allows, that has him cumming, free hand grabbing his shirt and throwing it over his cock to catch his cum. he bites his lip hard to stay quiet, tasting the metallic tang of blood, releasing his lip with a quiet gasp of your name as his orgasm reaches it’s peak. his hand has to slow suddenly as he becomes overly sensitive.

his last thought before he releases his cock from his grip is of you laying on the bed, legs spread with thighs glistening, cunt leaking, breathing heavily with closed eyes from pure satisfaction of the love making session rafe just gave you. 

he stays like that for a moment, just breathing with that thought in his head, your hair splayed on the pillow, mouth ajar, forehead sweaty, but eventually he has to pick up his shirt, making sure everything is clean on his body as he crumples it up, keeping all of his cum inside so that you’ll never know his dirty little secret. he hisses quietly as he tucks himself back into his pants.

now that the sudden thing that pulled him awake is taken care of, sleep is quick to take back over, whole world turning to black. rafe lets out a smile right before sleep takes him, knowing his dreams are again going to be of you.

part 2

[discotitsposts]

i do

spencer reid x fem reader

spencer asks you to marry him and you get married in a quick ceremony (set in like season 11 in my mind)

a little short but silly and fun and i love happy spencer he deserves it

his ass looks so juicy here

—————

Spencer had been nervously shaking all morning. You were really worried about him. Why is he acting so strangely? You wondered while drinking your own coffee.

“Spence, anything the matter love?” You ask softly as you set his mug of coffee down on the table in front of him.

He just lifts his head and reaches into his pocket nervously. He slowly gets down on one knee in front of you. You realize where this is going and gasp. He pulls out a small black velvet box in the shape of a heart.

When he opens it carefully, there sits your dream ring. It’s absolutely beautiful.

“Will you marry me?” Spencer asked tears flowing from his eyes.

“Yes! Of course I will Spencer!” You jump excitedly.

“I know a pastor that can marry us in an hour if you’d like.”

“But I don’t wanna marry a pastor, I wanna marry you!” You pout.

“What? No that’s not what-,” Spencer starts confused.

“I’m kidding! Of course I want to marry you now!! Let’s go!!” You race to grab your phone and call the closest thing Spencer’s got to a real family. The BAU team.

The team was going to meet you down at the church. You had just snagged a wedding dress quickly from a bridal shop. It was beautiful and exactly what you wanted. You were now in an antique shop.

“Ok so your necklace is the something old, your dress is the something new. All that’s left is something blue and a penny in your shoe.”

You lift your heel so he can slip the penny in your shoe.

“What can we find that’s blue?” You keep looking and find nice cufflinks for Spencer to wear. He was currently looking at vintage suits.

“What do you think?” He holds up a dark blue suit.

“Honey I don’t think you can be my something blue.”

“I just happen like the color though.” He pouts.

“Then it looks very nice. Hey what about this?” You hold up a beautiful antique tiara littered with blue jewels.

“Beautiful. Let’s get it.” You both race to the church and change. The girls help you with your hair and makeup.

Spencer goes ahead to meet the pastor at the altar while you wait at the end of the aisle. The BAU team and a few of your friends are waiting there cheering you both on. The organist plays the wedding march and Rossi takes your arm and walks you down the aisle.

JJ’s son follows as the ring bearer.

You’re crying, Spencer’s crying, Rossi’s crying, everyone’s crying. Even Morgan.

You thank Rossi and step up. Emily, JJ, Tara, and some of your friends are bridesmaids and Penelope, being your maid of honor, lifts your dress’s train and adjusts it. Spencer’s best man is Morgan. Hotch and Will are up there with him.

Spencer takes your hand and you speak your quickly written vows. Then the pastor.

“Do you Dr. Spencer Reid, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.” Tears are streaming down his face.

“(y/n) do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.” You’re smiling at him and squeezing his hands.

“You may now kiss the bride.” The pastor smiles proudly.

Spencer kisses you passionately. Then you throw your bouquet to the bridesmaids, Penelope catches it excitedly. Emily doesn’t even try to catch it.

Hotch throws some rice at you guys while laughing. JJ and Will are also throwing some.

Morgan shouts after you guys as you try to escape, “They’re excited to get started on the honeymoon!!”

After you guys leave he turns to Penelope, “Can’t believe the kid finally got hitched!”

That’s just what you guys did, hopped on a flight to anywhere you’ve always dreamed of going, got the biggest honeymoon suite the hotels offered, and enjoyed yourselves.

They lived happily ever after!

The End💘

————

i hope this was even a little bit fun to read, please let me know if you enjoyed.

______

tags-

@whoisspence

@lemonadeinfuser

@fictionalobssed

@exoticisles

@in-another-april

@gallifreyan-idiocracy

[little-diable]

Lies, nothing but lies - Dean Winchester (smut)

This is pure filth really, but at least there's a little bit of plot as well (not much tho lol). Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Dean and the reader have been friends since childhood, the reason why neither of them ever addressed their crush on the other. When a hunt gone wrong forces her confession out of the reader, Dean finds himself drawing back. But there was no escaping, all thanks to some strange, powdery substance.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected piv, sex pollen, choking, sloppy oral (m), slight breeding kink, friends to lovers, a small rejection though happy end, typical SPN setting

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (2.7k words)

A gasp rippled through (y/n) as she opened her eyes, slowly adjusting to the darkness that surrounded her, wondering where she was. She tried to move around, though without any luck, bound to the chair as if she was a sacrifice that would find its end in Death’s cold arms any moment now.

“Fuck, Dean? Sammy?” She whispered the names of her hunting partners, hoping that they were close. But she was met with nothing but silence, a silence so thick, (y/n) feared she may never speak another word again. Her eyes fluttered close as she tried to remember what had happened, it took her a few seconds till the memories found their way back to her like the tide rolling back in.

She had stayed behind in the motel, needing to catch up on some sleep as the brothers went out to speak to a few neighhours, hoping that somebody had seen or heard something. It had taken them hours to figure out new details, convinced that this was the sloppy work of a werewolf, but yet (y/n) had been stupid, leaving the motel after a few minutes of trying to fall asleep though miserably failing. She should have waited for them, should have trusted the funny feeling in her gut, but it had been too late the second darkness had swallowed her whole, trapping her.

Once again (y/n) tried to shuffle around, trying to reach the pocketknife she always carried around with her. Heavy breaths left her, eyes squeezed shut to try and collect all her strength, freezing as she heard the sound of heavy steps echoing through the air. Fuck, she’d have to be quick, she’d have to collect all her strength, trying to fight her way out of this mess.

Her heart longed for Dean, knowing that he’d fight side by side with her, sticking to the woman that had been around for years. They were one, one team, one heart, one soul, though without ever addressing the palpable tension between them. 

“(Y/n)? Sweetheart?” The sound of an all too familiar voice ripped her out of the wave of sadness threatening to pull her under. “Fuck, of course she’s not here. I’ll kill that motherfucker with my own two hands.” 

“Dean! I’m here! Sammy!” Her vocal chords ached from the strength she used to call out to the two brothers, hoping that they’d hear her. (Y/n) kept calling, listening to the sound of their steps, seemingly moving closer with every passing second. 

“(Y/n)?” Sam’s voice rang in her ears, forcing a relieved gasp out of her. A cry left her, luring the two closer till they finally reached her. Dean cupped her cheek as he crouched in front of her, holding her close, letting Sam cut her free. She tumbled into Dean’s arms, inhaling the comforting scent she’d always felt recognise no matter how long they’d be apart. “Shh, we’ve got you, my brave girl, you’re okay.”

……

“Don’t look away, I’m not done yet.” Dean’s soft words filled the small motel bathroom, hands cupping her cheeks as he cleaned her scratches. She had her legs wrapped around his middle, keeping him close, not yet ready to part from him.

Her heart raced at the mere thought of ever missing a moment like this with Dean. Her life had no meaning without Dean in it, needing him to guide her, the one her heart needed to survive. 

“Dean?” A hum left him, allowing her to keep on talking. Dean was oblivious to the racing of her heart, not picking up on the sounds the strong muscle created as it skipped beats. Her nervousness flushed through her veins, body forcing her to keep on moving, searching his closeness like she should have done years ago already. “Thank you, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Her gaze flickered between his eyes and his plush lips, momentarily distracted by the freckles she kept counting like sand collected in a glass, trying to keep memories bottled in to never forget them. His breaths got quicker, accelerating with every passing moments.

“I can’t, sweetheart.” His words made her breath hitch in her chest, staring at him with wide eyes for a few seconds before she slowly nodded her head, murmuring a soft “Of course.” (Y/n) gave Dean a small push, needing to get some distance between him and herself before he could notice the tears welling up in her eyes.

His hand found her wrist, stopping (y/n) from stumbling out of the bathroom. The sight of Dean was slightly blurred by her tears, making her feel even more pathetic as his sad smile grew clearer. Dean studied her for a few seconds, slowly letting go of her. “I wish I could, but I can’t risk our friendship, not when it’s the only good thing I can have all too myself.” 

“It’s alright, Dean. I uhm, I’ll try to get some sleep in.” He watched her leave the bathroom with trembling fingers, wrapping her arms around herself. She didn’t pick up on the tears welling up in his forest green eyes, didn’t hear the silent curses leaving him nor the sound of his hands angrily meeting the cold surface of the counter she had been sitting on. 

(Y/n) didn’t pick up on anything, but the quiet sobs clawing through her, making her heart clench in her chest.

……

“Careful!” Dean’s arms found it’s way around her waist before (y/n) could stumble over the step, eyes meeting his to communicate a quiet “Thank you”. The tension between the two had something uncomfortable to it, not yet over the conversation they’ve shared in the small bathroom days ago. Dean couldn’t help but wonder if he should have given in, ending up in a situation by far more pleasing than whatever this was, while (y/n) still cursed her exhausted self for acting like she had never done before and probably never will again.

“I’ll check out the rooms upstairs.” She had moved up the stairs before Dean could say another thing, moving through the unfamiliar house. Another case was keeping them on their toes, wondering who they were dealing with, but the things they now stumbled upon in their very house screamed “witch”, making them more uncomfortable than they’d ever admit.

(Y/n) combed through the empty rooms, opening boxes, shelves, whatever she could find. Before she could leave the upstairs area, moving back down to the man she tried to avoid like the plague, her eyes caught on a golden, small box. She moved closer, not hearing the sound of Dean’s heavy boots meeting the wooden steps, luring him closer.

“What’s that?” His voice made her jump, box crashing to the ground before she could catch it. A powdery substance now littered the ground, forcing curses out of (y/n) as she crouched down to push the substance back into the box. Dean wordlessly started helping her, eyes not daring to meet her angry ones. “I didn’t find anything, maybe we should try and see if we can find something online about the weird drawings we saw.”

“Alright, let’s go.” (Y/n) followed Dean outside, ignoring the heat simmering inside of her, threatening to take over her system. No words were spoken between the two as Dean started driving back, wiping away the drops of sweat pooling on his forehead, making him wonder why he was suddenly feeling all this hot.

“Dean?” His name left her, a sound torn between a cry and a moan, leaving his eyes to snap towards her. She was struggling just as much as he was, forcing him to tighten his grip on the steering wheel. “Fuck, I’m so hot. Open the windows, please.”

“It’s fucking freezing outside, sweetheart.” Both pondered over his words a few seconds, clinging to the quietness filling the Impala. “It was that fucking powder, shit, Sammy told me about this a while ago.”

“What is it? Will it kill us?” Her voice trembled, hands snapping into action to undo the first buttons of the jacket she was wearing, close to ripping her shirt open. Dean’s hand found her thigh, fingers dipping into her skin, forcing her to stop moving. 

“They’re called sex pollen, you have to fuck them out of your system, otherwise they’ll kill you.” A groan left Dean, mind creating vivid pictures of (y/n)'s naked frame pressed against his, how she’d mewl his name, begging him to fuck her harder. Dean had imagined this for countless times, fucking his hand to the thought of her naked frame, imagines he clung to, very well knowing that he’d never touch her, not daring to ruin his oldest and closest friendship. Lies, nothing but lies. 

“What? You’re joking! That can’t be true, what should we do?” A whimper left (y/n) as Dean’s hand started moving up her thigh, slowly, since his mind was trying to fight his body’s urges. Baby came to a halt in front of the motel, forcing the two into the room they shared. Dean couldn’t help but thank whoever was listening that Sam hadn’t joined them on this hunt, staying in the bunker for the time being. 

“I don’t know about you, sweetheart, but I’ve got something to take care of.” She looked at him with big eyes for a few seconds, well aware of the way his hardening cock pressed against the tight fabric of his trousers, forming an uncomfortable bulge. No words left her as (y/n) leaped at him, lips finding his as her mind was silenced by the pollen taking over the last bits of her system, guiding her every movement. 

Dean welcomed the kiss with a moan clawing through him, hands finding their way to her jeans, undoing the button with quick movements, set on undressing her. Both parted from one another to rip their clothes off their bodies, only left in their underwear, a sight that left them both breathless, fingers aching to feel one another. 

“I need your cock, anything, please Dean, it burns so much.” Her body was aching for his touch, wanting to feel him buried inside of her, desires fuelled by the pollen that worked like a drug on her system. Dean pushed her down on the bed, ripping her panties down her legs as she worked on her bra, a sight Dean didn’t allow himself to get lost in, needing to work quickly. His cock was twitching, leaking precum, laced with a desire so strong, he feared he’d pass out any moment now.

With his hand wrapped around his cock, Dean pushed the tip through her slit, coating himself with her arousal before he pushed into her. Both moaned in unison, eyes rolling back to give room to the darkness swapping through their systems. Dean fucked her without any mercy holding him back, hand finding its way to her throat, pinning her down as his other hand clung to the bedframe. 

It felt as if both had been needing to feel this for months, perhaps even years, a longing that had been nothing more than a daydream they’d try to escape from, at least till this very moment. Their bodies fit together perfectly, moving in sync as they tried to stop the heat that kept on flushing through them. 

Both were too far gone to speak, unable to produce anything but moans and groans, sinful words that rippled through them. Her orgasm moved closer quickly, flushing through her before she could stop her body from giving in, but Dean didn’t stop moving, not nearly as done as she was. 

Her body kept calling out to his, the heat still thumped through her veins, almost as strong as it had been before her first orgasm of the night. Their eyes met, hers hazy and confused, Dean’s twinkling with joy, excitement, and the pride he wasn’t able to swallow down. Even though he couldn’t guide his body, having to trust his instincts, he couldn’t deny that he loved seeing her like this, moaning for him, fucked out within a few moments. 

“I need to fill you up, want to fuck you full with my cum.” His words forced another moan out of her, body not satisfied just yet. Their hearts kept jumping, her arm found its way around his neck, pulling Dean in for another kiss. They were a mess of tangled limbs, tongues, and digits, a mess so perfect, they never wanted to free themselves from it.

Dean kept staring down on her as his hand disappeared between their bodies, rubbing her already overstimulated pulsing bundle of nerves with a smirk tugging on his lips. Her moans were everything but quiet, loud enough to ring in his ears like a cry of help in the quiet night would. 

“Cum inside of me Dean, please, I want it, want it so badly.” Her words were slurred, giving Dean the last push he needed to tumble over the edge, cum painting her walls white as a heavy groan left him. Slow thrusts kept pushing his cock into her heat, cock still hard and twitching, needing to chase another high before they’d feel somewhat satisfied. 

Without another warning Dean pulled out of her, flipping them around so that (y/n) had her face buried in the pillows, heavily groaning as he pushed back into her from behind. Their moans grew louder once again, dripping with pleasure and lust, an insatiable hunger they couldn’t still, all thanks to the pollen drugging their system.

“I should have fucked you sooner, fuck, I won’t ever let you go again, sweetheart, you belong to me, just like your body does.” Dean spoke his words with his jaw clenched and his teeth pressed together, still rushing along the waves of pleasure that made them tremble. (Y/n) could only groan, sobbing his name with squeezed together eyes, fingers digging into the fabric of the pillow. 

Her walls kept fluttering around his cock, ready to give in again, shaking fingers finding their way to her aching clit. Within seconds she was pushed over the edge again, finally letting go of the heat that had forced her to keep on going, allowing her body to somewhat relax. 

Dean stared down on her for a few seconds, hips still snapping against her behind before he pulled out of her, groaning a throaty “I need your mouth, sweetheart”. With tired though excited eyes staring up at Dean, (y/n) shuffled around, allowing him to abuse her mouth, forcing his cock deep down her throat.

She gagged for him, instantly making a mess with saliva dripping from her lips and chin. (Y/n) clung to him, corners of her mouth burning within moments, and yet she couldn’t help but moan for more, eyes rolling back into her head with every rough thrust. Her moans vibrated on his skin, forcing Dean to keep on going, adding to the speed of his thrusts to push himself over the edge again.

He came with a heavy groan, curses rolling off his tongue as he filled her cheeks. His hand found her hair, tilting her head back, watching tears run down her cheeks. 

“Fuck, are you okay, sweetheart?” A tired hum left (y/n), finding comfort against his chest, pulled closer with his hands holding onto her waist. His hand ran up and down her spine, forcing goosebumps to rise on her skin, not wanting to break out of this state just yet. “Listen, sweetheart, about what I’ve said-"

“It’s okay, Dean, you don’t have to explain yourself.” She slowly pulled back, at least she tried to, though without any luck. Dean kept holding her close, lips finding hers before she could speak another word. 

“I was stupid, just scared to ruin our friendship. But I can’t let you again, if you still want me.”

[chunksworld]

Grant Your Wish

 LE SSERAFIM Chaewon x Male Reader | (Tags: Smut) | needy!Chaewon

A/N 1: Finally got the chance to write my iz*one/le sserafim bias. Thank you @kaedespicelatte as always for proofreading and beta reading, this is dedicated to you and all of my fellow chaewon simps.

————————

“Manager-nim, don’t miss us too much okay? You still have Chaewon unnie to accompany you. Mwah!”

Before you could even respond, the rambunctious blonde blows you a kiss and already has one foot out the door with her luggage while the rest of the members follow her with their own. It’s only unfortunate that you couldn’t come with them knowing that they’re going to Jeju Island and a vacation is definitely what you need after a stressful past few months—you’ve also heard just how good the seafood is over there and you definitely wanted to try it yourself. But at least the girls get a well-deserved break, they truly have been working their tails off for their fans and it’s nice to see them get rewarded for it.

Work for you, however, continues as you’ve been assigned as Chaewon’s personal manager for the meantime—a two-week arrangement that certainly doesn’t bode well for you considering that you have such a huge crush on the group’s leader, her unreal visuals combined with her angelic vocals causing you to fall in love with her hard. You should be ecstatic that you’d get to spend plenty of alone time with her as a result but she’s the member that you interact with the least, focusing most of your time managing Yunjin instead. Plus, you don’t exactly have the confidence to just strike up a conversation so casually with her.

The challenge starts as soon as the members bid you farewell and the door is shut, leaving you on your own in this oasis known as their dorm. You’ve only stepped foot here once or twice (ten times if you count all of the instances that you’ve had to personally carry a drunk Yunjin home) and it only hits you now just how stunning the place is, the company clearly invested heavily on the group. The living room is as big as your studio apartment and filled with furniture that you know you’ll never be able to afford while the kitchen is filled with top-of-the-line appliances that chefs could only dream of. 

Sit on the couch and feel just how soft the fabric is, perfect to sleep on—you didn’t even need to bring your sleeping bag. But you didn’t want to move around too much, this is still their personal space and you are just a guest. A male guest, more specifically, and considering that they’re a girl group, they probably don’t have guys over their dorm that much (except for that one time Yunjin brought some random dude she met at a bar and you went to great lengths to make sure she didn’t get exposed). But you don’t know what else to do, Chaewon is probably sleeping in her room and management specified for you to never leave her side for “security purposes.” Since when does a grown person need babysitting? And why did she choose not to tag along with the rest of the girls?

But orders are orders, plus you’re getting paid to basically do nothing so you can’t exactly complain. Thankfully you brought your laptop with you so you can get some work done and watch some Netflix to pass time so these next two weeks should be a breeze, right? Maybe Chaewon will only leave her room for meals, maybe you won’t have any heart-racing interactions with her that will cause you to inevitably stutter and start fanboying like an idiot, maybe everything will go smo–

“Hey, manager-nim.”

A familiar soft, yet piercing voice breaks your train of thought and the aforementioned woman emerges from her bedroom looking oh-so-adorable in an oversized white shirt—the sight alone already has you malfunctioning internally. Fuck, she looks so cute. Even more so when she flashes you a smile and a wave as she walks over towards the couches and sits next to you. Your palms are starting to perspire and your heart is beating so quickly you might as well have just ran an entire marathon. You’ve already lost your composure and just like that, your plans are thrown out the window.

“H-Hey.”

Great. Now you can’t even utter such a simple word. It must be so obvious just how much you’re freaking out because she laughs hard and the way her eyes form crescents stirs butterflies in your stomach—or maybe that’s just hunger from not eating breakfast due to how much you were dreading this day. 

“Yah, why are you so nervous? It’s not like I bite or anything.”

“R-Right, sorry.” A sheepish smile. How are you supposed to tell her how infatuated you are with her and how such a simple task as striking up a conversation is harder than all of the exams you took in high school?

“Come on! We’ve known each other for over a year now, and yet you still act like I’m a stranger?”

Right. You still couldn’t believe your eyes when she walked through the doors of the company, you only heard the rumors swirling around but you refused to believe any of it; more so when you were told that you were going to manage her group. When that fateful day finally came, it was like your birthday and Christmas combined into one. Forget studying to be a doctor or an engineer, you consider becoming a manager of her group an achievement that can’t be matched by anything.

“And we’re even the same age! That’s pretty insulting to a woman, you know.” A fine woman, at that

You try to come up with something, anything but you’re scrambling like a deer in the headlights and your vocabulary has been reduced to only saying: “I-I’m sorry.”

“I’ll be hurt if you keep apologizing.” She playfully pouts, though you can see how there’s some truth to the words she’s saying and it’s enough to finally get you to your senses. She’s right. You’re a professional and it’s time to act as such; this is just a work assignment and nothing else. So what if you have a painfully huge crush on her?

With that renewed mindset, you straighten your posture and begin to relax though giving her a direct look in those captivating eyes still manages to fluster you—but given how absolutely stunning she is, who wouldn’t be? “Fine. No more apologies, okay? I’ll do better from now on.”

“There you go. It’s just gonna be the two of us for some time, so lighten up!” You miss the way her cheeks redden at her own statement because you’re too caught up at the thoughts that came up in your head at such implications.

Fortunately, everything was peaceful after that. Chaewon wanted to catch up on some movies and that’s exactly what she did, not before begging you to go to the convenience store with her to buy some snacks. For once, it felt nice not losing your mind every time you were in close proximity with her. You don’t miss the way she would sneakily initiate skinship by either casually brushing her hand against yours and leaning ever so closely but you ignore it.

It was only inevitable that she’d be tired after the third movie; you were surprised that she even managed to stay awake for so long because you were definitely drifting in and out of sleep after the second one—you still haven’t fixed your sleep schedule after all. It was already pretty dark outside and knowing Chaewon, her schedule is probably just as broken as yours. As the credits rolled, you yawned which caused her to do the same—fatigue settling in after such a long movie marathon.

“Looks like you didn’t get to watch any movies during promotion, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m using up all of the opportunities now to do so.” She grabs a pillow and places it on her lap, a pout forming on her lips once again at the thought. “We’re gonna be busy next year preparing for our world tour so I won’t have any time again.”

“I can only imagine, being a leader must be stressful and time-consuming so I’m glad you’re getting some time off.” You really are, which is why it baffles you even more that she decided to stay here in Seoul instead of going out on vacation with the rest of the members.

“Of course! You should know just how chaotic the rest of the girls are but I love them so I’m completely okay with it.” 

But as they say, curiosity kills the cat and you wouldn’t be able to stay put without ever finding out the reason. “By the way, why did you decide to stay home?” And you almost immediately regret asking her the question because of the smirk on her face.

“So I can do this.”

In a flash you feel Chaewon’s soft pair of lips mash with yours as she straddles your lap, allowing you to taste her strawberry lip balm. It only takes a quick second to realize that she’s not wearing any shorts underneath her shirt as you can feel a growing wetness on your crotch. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around her waist while her hands creep up underneath your shirt. It also only takes you a quick second to realize that none of this should be happening, though the growing bulge on your pants completely says otherwise.

You use your last ounce of professionalism to pull away from the liplock, every passing second withering it away. “C-Chaewon, wait!”

“I want you, manager-nim.” Her response is quick and firm, but even if she didn’t tell you anything you can see the burning passion in her eyes. She doesn’t let you respond as she engages into another kiss, this time it’s much more desperate and lustful as she swirls her tongue around yours. Feel her whimper and moan as she presses her body against yours—she must not be wearing any bra either because you can also feel her soft breasts through the cloth.

But this can’t happen; you’re a manager and she’s an idol—getting caught under such circumstances is almost certainly a death sentence in this harsh industry. If she doesn’t give you the opportunity to talk then you’ll have to do it yourself. You pull away from the kiss once again, though your male instincts wants to keep going. And just the thought of her choosing not to be with her members for this is causing your brain to go haywire. “Wait! We can’t do this!”

“Why not? No one is here.” Chaewon shrugs as if that was the overarching problem about this entire ordeal, her hands rest on your chest as she tries to catch her breath. Her eyes captivate you once again and seeing them up close is much better than any fancams or pictures taken by her dedicated fansites. You almost get lost in the vast ocean of her beautiful eyes but you try to remain firm. 

“That’s not the point!”

“And the point is what, exactly? Does it say in your contract that you can’t have sex with the talent, manager-nim?” She then grabs the hem of her oversized shirt and begins to pull it upwards gently, exposing more of her lovely thighs and her white laced panties. A soft moan from her as she can feel your length throb underneath her and she knows that she’s oh-so-close to convincing you.

You want to look away, you have to look away. As much as your dick is loving what is currently happening, you know what the consequences of engaging in such an act would be. But it’s hard to make a logical decision when all you can feel is her crotch grinding against your bulge as she slowly and painfully continues to pull her shirt upwards, revealing her tight tummy.

Unfortunately you can’t look away as her intense aura glues your eyes towards her heavenly body as she eventually reveals it to you, throwing the shirt somewhere in the living room. Your cock can’t stop twitching at the sight: small but perky breasts, well-defined abs, and shoulders so beautiful that you just want to leave hickeys all over them. Her body is even more perfect than you imagined and you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t have a wet dream (or two) about her. She smirks seeing you drool at her half-naked body and the alluring lip bite that she gives you is the nail in the coffin.

Fuck it, might as well grant her wish right? “N-No.”

“Exactly. It’s only a problem if you make it, manager-nim. No one has to know about this.” She urges you to take off your shirt and that piece of clothing is quickly discarded as she mashes her lips with yours, the lack of clothing making this liplock more intimate as you allow your hands to wander around her tanned skin, tracing her curves and every single defined muscle obtained from hours of dance practice. At this point you have conceded to her, the explosion of pleasure you’re currently receiving is too good and Chaewon is too resistible. “Plus, I’ve been dreaming about this for so long…”

Move your lips down towards her jawline and neck, leaving chaste kisses but careful not to leave a mark. The sultry and lewd moans she releases in your ear sends blood rushing through your length and you can feel more precum dripping out that your boxers are starting to become sticky. Meanwhile your hands continue to wander around her body, finding a resting place on her buttcheeks and giving them a gentle squeeze which emits a louder moan from her.

“Y-Yes, manager-nim…”

Leave more kisses down to her clavicles before your pair of lips latch on to her breasts, sucking and licking her left nipple while your free hand massages the other. She continues to moan desperately and the sound of your name leaving her lips in such a lustful manner is only causing your control to slip away every moment. You want to continue pleasuring her so you do the same to her right nipple, making sure that it receives an equal amount of pleasure. And you would gladly suckle on her breasts for hours but the growing patch of wetness on her panties is hard to ignore. Plus, you’re going to lose your mind if you have to spend another minute with your pants on.

Catch your breath as the session temporarily ends and she does the same, using it as an opportunity to remove herself off of your lap to take off her panties which reveals her pussy already glistening with her juices dripping down her meaty thighs—it’s starting to get painful just how erect your cock is at the moment and it’s obvious with the massive tent it’s pitching on your shorts. Thankfully she gives you a look urging you to remove your undergarments as well and you do exactly just that, your cock springing out of its prison and dripping with so much precum.

Now you are both completely naked but before you can truly appreciate the sight in front of you, Chaewon immediately lunges towards you again. You’d think a girl like her would be interested in some form of roleplay but she’s clearly needy as she straddles your lap and angles her hips so that her pussy sinks directly into your dick. It’s hard to concentrate on multiple things at once because she’s also continuing her assault to your lips, biting and licking your lower lip as she slowly engulfs your length in her pussy.

“A-Ah fuck! So–so fucking big!”

She’s so tight, much more than you expected due to her light body frame and you know it’s going to take a while for her to get used to it. The way she clenches on your length as she rides you leaves you a groaning and growling mess, much more so as her skin glistens due to sweat which makes her look even hotter in your eyes. You want to burn this image of Chaewon forever, your crush, pleasuring herself using your cock and how you’re continuing to leak precum which have probably stained her walls already.

As you bottom out, her nails clutch onto your shoulders tightly which will definitely leave marks but you don’t care about it right now. You wrap your arms around her waist to press her tight body against yours while you give her deep and passionate kisses, feeling her whimper in your mouth as she wraps her arms tightly around your neck. Due to how wet she is, you can hear squelching with every exit and entry of your cock and the sound only adds to the fire burning in your stomach.

“Fuck! Fuck! So fucking tight, Chae.”

And you’d gladly give her all the time in the world because just feeling her immaculate body on yours already makes this an experience that you’ll remember for the rest of your life. Chaewon alternates between grinding on your hips and slowly lifting her hips off your dick before sinking herself back down and the position directs her moans and hot breaths right into your ear. 

It took a few minutes but eventually she started to gain rhythm, her movement starting to resemble more like bouncing as opposed to just grinding. This was the sign that you needed to begin thrusting upwards, matching the pace of her bounce with the thrust of your cock inside her tight walls. Such actions only made her cries of pleasure even louder and you’re truly thankful that it’s only the two of you in the dorms because the sound of flesh on flesh and your combined moans and groans complete the hottest and dirtiest symphony ever created in this living room. “Kiss me as well, manager-nim!”

Chaewon doesn’t need to tell you because her addictive lips are making you just want to dive into them and after a particularly hard thrust, you initiate sloppy, wet kisses. Her succulent lips are truly a joy to taste and the way they mold perfectly with yours is only serving to grow the familiar tension in your stomach. Another hard thrust causes her to ragdoll in your arms, unfortunately ending the makeout session as her breaths become more hurried, moans turning into cries as her sweaty skin glides smoothly along yours.

“Shit! Oh god I’m so damn close, manager-nim. P-Please just keep pounding me like that.”

You want to test just how high her vocal range is so you begin to shift your cock inside her until your tip hits a soft bundle of nerves that causes her to let out her loudest scream of the night—such vocal range is what makes her such a great singer but tonight she showcases it in a dirtier and sexier way. 

“Manager-nim! Manager-nim! I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum all over your fucking cock. FUCK!”

Chaewon bites into your shoulder hard as her walls squeeze you so tight that you almost end up finishing alongside her. She uncontrollably shivers as she rests her head on your shoulder, panting heavily while she recuperates from the intensity of her orgasm. The amount of fluid that gushes out of her pussy is enough to completely stain your thighs and the couch below, the squelching sound with every slow thrust you make only adds to the dirty symphony you two are creating. You want to give her time to rest and recover but only mere seconds after, she’s already nibbling and kissing your ears while you leave more kisses all over her sweaty neck.

“Bedroom, please.” A whisper to your ears and you were not going to be told twice. With ease, you lift the petite woman off the couch, causing her to wrap her limbs tightly around you. You bounce her on your length a few more times which causes more moans to reverberate throughout the living room as you make your way to her room.

You turn on the lights and gently place Chaewon on the bed and she spreads her legs immediately, showing off her inner thighs that are completely drenched by her squirt and her pussy that’s continuing to pulsate. “I want your cum to fill me, manager-nim. Come ravage my tight pussy.”  A seductive look, then another lip bite which completely unshackles every single piece of professionalism that you’ve ever had—as if you still had some after what just happened minutes ago.

“Fuck!”

You harshly grab onto her waist to bring her closer to you while you hover over, easily sliding your length back to her pussy in one motion. With arms resting on either side of her head, you lean forward to kiss her as you start thrusting at a frantic pace—you were desperate to chase your own orgasm after her and you were going to make sure to fill her up like she wanted. Chaewon understands this as well as she wraps her legs around your waist while you continue to piston your cock into her pussy. The harsh thrusts unfortunately makes it difficult for your lips to remain attached to hers so you settle for her neck instead, nibbling on the soft and delicate skin while her sultry moans only brings you closer and closer to your peak.

“I’m gonna fill you so fucking much, Chae. That’s what you wanted, right? You want me to breed you?” 

A hurried nod is the only response you get from her, those velvety walls of hers that’s already had an orgasm are beginning to tighten again much like the familiar tension building up in your stomach. It only takes a few more sporadic thrusts before you completely erupt inside of her with a loud groan, almost mirroring her screams of pleasure from earlier. You've left hickeys on her neck that will definitely have to be covered as you reach your peak. Shot after shot of your hot sperm fills up her walls to and over the brim, flowing out of her pussy while a second, smaller orgasm overcomes her in the aftermath. It didn’t take too long considering you were holding yourself back for her and perhaps that just made your orgasm stronger.

“Oh god Chaewon, fuck. Shit. That was fucking hot.”

When you pull out, more seeds flow out of her used pussy while you lay down on the bed besides her—you’re still mind blown by the fact that you just had sex with your crush, who also happens to be a member of the group you manage and the implications of what just happened will absolutely hit you like a truck tomorrow morning. But you couldn’t care less at the moment as Chaewon gives you a tired smile, leaving one more kiss on your lips before the intense session instantly takes her to dreamland.

As if on cue, your phone’s notifications immediately start blowing up which almost makes you jump off the bed—who could be messaging you at this very hour? Carefully, you make your way back to the living room to grab your clothes and the device that’s continuing to make noise. Chaewon is already sleeping and the last thing you’d want to do is wake her up so you silence your phone only to be left surprised by the messages.

From: Yunjin

“Hi oppa! Did you like my new year’s gift? Hope you didn’t break her.”

What the fuck?

“You must be shocked, right? Don’t act like I didn’t see you drooling over unnie’s fancams~”

No way…

“I hope you used the condom I slipped in your pocket~”

You quickly grab your pants and fish through your back pockets and sure enough, the aluminum foil-wrapped piece of contraption is there. When did she…?

“Aigoo~ Sounds like you didn’t but it’s fine.”

You’re already panicking but her next message leaves you shell-shocked.

“Because you can use it on me when I get back.”

[dead-dove-yandere]

Marie would like a sweetheart who would warn her if and if he would be willing to defend her from a sexist neighbor after another neighbor yelled at Marie, when her own ex husband wouldn't care.

I’m sorry if the insults the sexist say are kinda cringe I don’t know how to be mean tbh

TW: Stalking, obsession, casual sexism and sexual harassment

Marie sighed as she looked out of the window, seeing the neighbour that lived across the road from her sitting on the porch outside his house.

“He’s there again,” Marie remarked.

“Hm?” Her husband grumbled, disinterested. Marie pretended she didn’t notice him ogling at the Page 3 Girl in his newspaper.

“He’s sat as well. He’s not going to move.”

“Who?” Her husband asked. Marie sighed.

“The bloke across from us. The one who says all those filthy things to me when he catches me outside.” Her husband briefly looked up from his newspaper, before going back to pretending to read.

“Just ignore him,” he said dismissively.

“No. I think I’ll wait until he’s gone,” Marie said, smoothing down her pinafore. Her husband rolled his eyes and tutted.

“Just go get the washing. Stop being so dramatic about it. Better yet, just use the tumble dryer next time. I paid good money for it,” he moaned, shaking his newspaper straight as he continued to fantasise about the naked young woman on the page. Marie pursed her lips and stormed out the living room, grabbing her wash basket and steeling herself ready to go out and face the outdoors. She opened the door and marched towards the washing line, beginning to take down the clothes. She’d barely been there more than a minute when she heard a whistle echo through the street. She glanced up, seeing the man on the porch grinning salaciously, practically drooling like a pig waiting for the hapless farmer to keel over in the sty. She tried to ignore him, her weathered hands shaking as she continued to work, but in the corner of her eye, she saw the man stand up from where he sat on the porch and padded across the road towards her front garden.

“Nice dress. It’d look better on my bedroom floor,” he said, leaning against the fence as he watched her take a dress off the washing line and fold it into her washing basket.

“You got anything a little more revealing in there?” He asked, gesturing to the basket. “Something a little more private?”

“Oh, just go away!” Marie finally snapped, throwing a peg at him. It bounced harmlessly off the fence, making him laugh at her.

“Now why would I do that, sugar?” He asked. “I wouldn’t be able to see -“ he was interrupted by a firm voice.

“I think you’d better leave,” you said, having come out of your house and approached them. The man glared at you.

“It’s none of your business, it’s between me and sugar here,” he growled. You stepped in front of Marie, maintaining a hard stare of your own.

“I said I think you better leave and take your attitude with you,” you repeated, stamping your foot firmly against the ground. The man took the hint and backed off, cursing as he slinked back to his own house.

“Thank you,” Marie said as you turned to look at her. Her hands still shook and her heart was racing. She put a hand to her face, pretending to adjust her lipstick, but in fact hiding the blush that was forming on her cheeks.

“You okay?” You ask her. She nods.

“It’s nothing I haven’t heard him say before, dirty old man,” she says with a grumble. Why couldn’t her husband be… well, more like you?

“You’ll let me know if he causes you trouble again, right? I will come anytime you need.”

“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.” You offer each other polite, restrained smiles, and quickly say your goodbyes before you head back to your own house. Marie can only watch you leave, wishing that you’d stay a little longer.

Dividers Credit: See Pinned Post

[daisyrb-gvf]

Cruising Into Love-Part 2

d.r.w. x f!reader

I'm so excited to be posting this so soon after the first chapter! The third may take a while longer, but this story is just pouring out of me.

Words: 4.6k

Summary: On a solo adventure to the waterfalls of the Bahamas, you run into Danny, off on an adventure of his own.

Warnings: language, cheesy sibling love, hot and heavy make out, that's pretty much it for this one

“Danny…Danny….DANIEL, HELLO!?” Josie leans across the table, waving her hand in front of Danny’s face, snapping him out of his daydream. “I’m attempting to have an enjoyable lunch with my big brother,” she jokes, taking a bite of pineapple. 

“I’m sorry, sis. I think that run must have tired me out,” Danny replies, “What’s up?” 

Josie chuckles, looking down at her plate, absent-mindedly moving some lettuce around with her fork. “Yeah I bet so.” She flicks her eyes up to Danny before stabbing another piece of fruit. 

“What do you mean?” Danny asks, trying to put on his best confused expression. 

Josie gives him a knowing stare, boring her eyes through him, “You can fool mom and dad, and-if you’re really good-you can maybe even fool Sam, but you know you cannot fool me.” 

“Jos, I really don–” Danny cuts himself off, knowing the attempt is futile. She’s right. Everyone thinks your brothers-especially Sam-know you best, and while they are very close, no one knows you like your little sister. “Okay, fine. I’ll admit she may have gotten me a little distracted. I’m sorry. I’m here now. What were you saying?” 

“Oh, nothing important. Let’s talk about this girl!” Josie gushes as she pushes her plate aside, resting her elbows on the table and propping her chin up with two little fists. 

Danny chuckles and sighs, crossing his arms as he leans back in his chair. He glances out at the ocean through the floor-to-ceiling glass window next to the table. His lip twitches up into a little smirk that he tries to hide from his eager (and nosey) little sister. “I mean…you’ve seen her basically as much as I have, with the exception of our run, and it’s not like we were talking during that. There’s no way I could have. She is fast.” He cracks a smile and picks up his glass of water, the condensation cool and wet on his calloused fingertips. 

“You seemed to be having a nice little conversation with her before I came out there,” she replies kindly, not wanting to sound accusatory. 

“We only talked for a couple of minutes, and it was really just small talk. I don’t even think she’s told us her name,” he chuckles.

“It’s y/n,” Josie replies, matter-of-factly. 

“Yeah, I know, but only from the cruise itinerary,” Danny says as he steals a strawberry from Josie’s plate. 

“Come on, dude! The buffet is right there. Go get your own food!” 

“You just pushed your plate away! I didn’t want it to go to waste. What would Sam say?” he asks, feigning offense as he plucks another strawberry from her plate. 

Josie rolls her eyes, “Clearly, the girl is flustered around you. Give her a break, and maybe she assumes you know her name because of the itinerary. Did you consider that?” 

“Okay, I hear you,” Danny says, putting his hands up in defense. “All I’m saying is, I hardly know anything about the girl, other than the fact that she could probably kick my ass in a foot race and she is a talented musician.” 

“Oh, yeah. No big deal. Just two qualities you would love in a woman,” Josie replies sarcastically, kicking his shin gently under the table and grinning. 

“Sis, we are on this boat for seven more days, and then what? I’m not gonna be the guy that has a week-long fling and just…disappears,” Danny says, before taking another sip of water. 

“Why not?” Josie asks, a genuine curious expression on her face. 

Danny looks surprised by her response. “Because…well, it’s kind of shitty, isn’t it? Getting some girl all blissed out on me and then just leaving?” 

“First of all,” Josie starts, leaning back in her chair, “she’s not the only one who would be getting ‘blissed out’ okay? Clearly, the feeling is mutual there, so don’t be all macho, dude.” 

Danny laughs and rolls his eyes, “You know I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“I know, but your little sis has to make sure you know your place. All the crazy fans out there are gonna give you a big head, so I’m just doing my job,” she smiles proudly, crossing her arms. Danny smiles and softly shakes his head. “Secondly, she works here. She knows that the people she sees for a week or two will likely never cross her path again, so if she seems interested, I’m sure she has that in mind as well.” 

Danny considers for a moment with pause, “...yeah, I suppose so.”

“And lastly-the big one-she doesn’t know who you are.” 

“Wait, how do you know?” 

“Because I heard her ask you what you do as I was walking outside earlier today. She has no clue you’re a rockstar. And that is a huge win for you,” she says with a smile, her big hazel eyes-slightly more green than Danny’s-glinting in the sunlight pouring through the window.

“So, what…do I just lie to her?” Danny asks, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. 

“Of course not, but she doesn’t need all the details. You two can geek out on music and sports and whatever-the-hell other things you undoubtedly have in common, without throwing in ‘oh, by the way, I’m a super famous Grammy-winning rockstar that girls and gays swoon over and write thousands of fanfictions about,” Josie replies, mustering up her best impersonation of her brother.

“Oh, God please don’t remind me of the fanfictions,” Danny buries his face in his hands, his elbows on the table. “You know mom started to read one once?” he laughs. 

Josie giggles uncontrollably, getting a few looks from the family sitting at the table next to them. “Oh, poor mom! Was it at least a sweet one?” she asks between giggles, wiping away a stray tear.

“Definitely not. I heard her talking to Karen about it. ‘Oh, Karen, it was awful! That’s my baby boy!’” Danny mimics his mother before breaking out into a loud belly laugh. 

“Stop! I’m gonna pee my pants!” Josie chokes out between giggles, wiping tears away again.

“Okay, I think we should go,” Danny says in between laughs, glancing over at the family who is clearly getting very irritated with their antics. 

Josie grabs her purse and sweeps her long, brown, wavy hair over her shoulder as they both stand up and make their way out of the restaurant. Danny follows, slipping his phone into the pocket of his khaki shortie shorts. Holding the door open for his sister, she stops and turns to him. 

“You deserve to have a little fun, big brother,” she smiles at him kindly. Danny smiles back as they begin to walk down the hallway. He wraps his strong arm around his sister’s dainty shoulders, giving her a small peck on top of her head. 

“Thanks, sis.” 

“So, since I beat your ass during our run earlier, let’s say we go play some mini golf so I can beat you at that too?”

“You’re on,” Danny replies, ruffling her hair like any annoying big brother would. Josie playfully shoves him before smoothing her hair out

“So, be honest: how many fanfictions about you have you read,” Josie asks, laughing again. Danny stays silent for a minute, his face turning red. “How many?!” she asks again, her eyes widening and jaw dropping in a big smile. 

“Just a few,” he purses his lips, trying to hold back a smile. “What about you, sis?”

“Ew. None. You know there’s nothing out there your sister would want to read,” she replies, a disgusted look on her face. 

Danny laughs loudly, “That’s a good point, but what about the Kiszkas, huh?” He wiggles his eyebrows and smirks. 

‘........just a few.” 

They both laugh loudly as they head into the elevator, making their way to the top deck. 

– – –

The sun beats down on your skin as you stretch out in the little parachute hammock you hung at the bow of the ship-one of the few places the guests can’t access. The boat is being docked and you can hear the bustle of people anxious to get to their excursions and shopping sprees. You debate on going out for a little excursion of your own once the ship starts to empty out. You love Nassau, and you are dying to explore that hidden trail again that leads up to the waterfalls. You decide to go have a little adventure, so you pack up your hammock and head back to your bunk to put on your hiking shorts, tank top, and Chacos. Once the bulk of guests have funneled off the ship, you head out and hop on one of the shuttles into town. Getting off at the last stop by the trails, you follow a group of people through the trees. You know that there is a fork in the trail that the excursionists take a right on. Once you reach it, you make a left and start the hike on your own. Some tourists have taken the trail before, but once they reach a dead end they turn around. You, however, explored your way through the trees for about another half mile last year and found a small little swimming hole with a waterfall flowing down into it. It felt like your own secret spot. A reprieve from the constant bustle of people and tiny bunk that you have to share. 

As you meander through the trees and brush, you take in the sights and sounds around you. Lush, bright green trees and bushes of all types, little patches of flowers sprouting up every few feet. The mossy, soft ground padding your footsteps. You stop for a moment and close your eyes, inhaling deeply, enjoying the sounds of birds singing and bugs chirping. The smell of the vegetation and the distant ocean overtaking your senses. You smile and increase your pace once you hear the low rumble of the waterfall. Almost there. The cool mist sprays against your sweat-dampened skin, offering relief from your slightly difficult climb. You start to make your way down to the little shore area, but stop in your tracks when you hear a splash in the water. Slowly, stealthily inching forward, you peek behind a tree to see who could have found your secret spot. Your stomach sinks for a moment, sad that you’ve lost what you thought was just yours, and hoping it’s just a skilled explorer on vacation. After a moment, the culprit emerges from the crystal clear water. 

Mess of curls, sopping wet and sticking to his sculpted cheeks, water dripping down his broad, tanned shoulders and defined pecs and abs. Your jaw drops when you see him run his hands through his hair, pushing it away from his face and closing his eyes as he tips his head back, feeling the sun’s heat wash over him after the cool dip. You can see each muscle in his arms, shoulders, and torso flex with his movements and your breathing intensifies as your eyes roam, hungry to take in as much of this Adonis-looking man as possible, taking mental pictures to commit to memory. The smattering of hair on his chest and just below his belly button look oh so enticing. You lick your lips, eyes hooded as he turns around. His shoulders flex and move and you can see the definition in his triceps as he extends his arms out to either side, as if he is welcoming nature to envelope him completely. His entire body glistens in the sun, emphasizing every detail that’s making you weak in the knees. You start to feel a little creepy ogling him like this without him knowing, but you are having a hard time tearing your eyes away, especially as you feel your swimsuit bottoms dampening from the sight of him. You force yourself to turn around, frustrated that your personal nirvana has been taken from you, and even more frustrated that you know you won’t be able to focus on anything else but the way his wet, toned body looks for weeks. 

“Do you want to join me, or would you prefer to just enjoy the view,” Danny calls out as he turns around and smirks in your direction. 

You stop in your tracks, eyes getting wide as your whole body flushes from embarrassment. Well, you’ve been caught, and it would probably be creepier to run away, so instead you slowly turn around. 

“Oh, um…I…I just got here a minute ago…I thought no one else knew about this place, so I was..uh, just…surprised.” Your face is beet red and you’re awkwardly fidgeting with your hands. You drop your backpack so you have something to busy them with, even if just for a moment. 

He chuckles and glances down for a moment. He seems a little shy, surprisingly. He sounded so confident with his invitation. 

“So…what do you say? Want to join me? The water feels amazing.” He sinks further down and slowly tips his head back, feeling the cool water tickling his scalp inch by inch.

You did come all this way, and you suppose there’s no reason not to enjoy it, even if it isn’t what you expected. You would also be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t aching to get closer to him, seeing his wet body in all its glory gleaming in the sun up close. You kick off your sandals and slowly peel off your tank top and shorts, revealing your hot pink string bikini underneath. You swear you see his eyes darken a bit as he gazes at you, but it’s hard to tell with the distance between you two. You’ve always felt comfortable and confident with your body, but suddenly you feel very vulnerable and exposed. You muster up a weak smile as you slowly walk toward him, dipping your toe in the water. It’s a shock to the system after sweating in the humid heat during your hike. A shiver runs through your spine, and you're not sure if it’s from the cold water, or the man walking toward you, the water receding down his body with each step. He offers his hand to help you over the slightly rocky shore, as you gingerly step in. You breathe out a quick puff of air, sinking further into the water as he walks backward. Your nipples harden as the water reaches them, and you notice Danny’s gaze move to them for just a moment. God, he is just so beautiful. His sun-kissed face is practically glowing, emphasizing his features. You get a better look at his boyish freckles dusted over his cheeks and perfect, sharp nose-a slight curve at the end of it. His eyes are a lighter hue in the sunlight, and a few droplets of water drip down his face, one drop catching on his long, dark lashes. He blinks it away, and you notice a rogue little freckle just under his right eye. You suddenly have the urge to kiss it softly, causing you to look away in embarrassment. Once you’re both fully immersed in the water he releases your hand and moves to his back, floating peacefully as he closes his eyes. 

“So, you’ve been here before?” he asks, eyes still closed, looking so peaceful and happy in this moment. 

You bob in the water, using this opportunity to drink him in some more while his eyes are closed. The water ebbs and flows across his hard, yet impossibly soft-looking chest and stomach, a little pool of liquid settling in his belly button. You notice he has those little yellow shorts on again. The water lapping against his legs causes his shorts to alternate between flowing around him and sticking to his legs, showing off his muscle definition. He must run every day to get muscles like that. 

Snapping yourself out of it, you reply, “Yeah quite a few times, actually. I thought I was the only one who knew about this place. Have you been here before? I’m not even sure most of the locals know about it.”

“No, I haven’t, but I like to explore, and I have a pretty good sense of direction. I just headed the same general direction that I knew the falls were at, and eventually found my way. Once I heard the water, I just followed the sound. How did you find it?” 

“Actually, the exact same way,” you chuckle, moving onto your back as well, floating next to him. 

Your hands brush together for a moment, the water pulling you closer together. The electricity that ran through your body caused your eyes to widen in surprise. 

Danny feels that same electricity. If he is being honest, he felt it the moment he realized you were watching him from behind the trees. He never thought of himself as an exhibitionist, but he just couldn’t help showing off what you were clearly enjoying. Plus, he hoped it would entice you to stay. Imagining seeing you in a little bikini he hoped you were sporting made his blood run hot through his veins and surge down to his groin. Actually seeing it made him very glad you were in cold water. 

“Are you disappointed?” Danny asked after a moment. 

You looked over in surprise and he returned your gaze. “Why would I be disappointed?”

“That I found your spot. I assume you staked a claim since you said you didn’t know anyone else knew about it, and if you’ve been here several times with no one knowing about it, you probably decided to keep it to yourself. So…are you disappointed?” 

You stay silent for a moment, because you did feel disappointment…at first. But now, you feel content sharing it with him. “No. I’m not disappointed at all,” you reply with a soft smile. 

“Good!” he responds cheerily, popping up to swim a few laps around the small pool. 

You giggle as the water splashes you before dipping under, washing away the sweat (and probably dirt) from your face. Popping back up, you run your hands over your eyes and through your hair, smoothing it back and away from your face. You open your eyes and catch Danny staring. A smirk forms on your face when you think about the role reversal. Danny doesn’t look away this time. Instead he slowly swims closer to you, keeping eye contact as his body floats mere inches from yours. 

“Wanna play?” he asks, his lips curling up into a boyish smile that takes your breath away. 

“Play?” you ask breathlessly, matching his grin. 

“Yeah,” he grins wider, flashing those bright white teeth. 

You giggle, heart racing over how adorable he is. “What, like Marco Polo or something, or were you thinking mermaids?” you laugh. 

“Both sound fun,” he chuckles, “but I say Marco Polo. I’ll go first!”

He looks so excited that it makes your heart ache. It seems so silly, but why not? Who says two 20-something year olds can’t play Marco Polo and have fun like kids get to? 

“Okay yeah! Let’s do it!” you giggle and wait for him to close his eyes. 

“1…2…3…” he starts to count. 

“Wait!” you stop him, “What are we counting to?” 

“Hmmm, it’s a pretty small swimming hole. Let’s say 10. Sound good?” 

“Yeah! Okay, start over,” you giggle again. You haven’t giggled like this in longer than you can remember. You push away a tiny pang of sadness, realizing how truly lonely you’ve been. 

“Okay,” he grins again, starting back up, “1…2…”

You dip under the water and swim as silently as possible to the little overhang next to the falls- almost like a shallow cave- trying not to giggle in anticipation. 

“9…10! Marco!” he calls out, swimming around excitedly. God, it must be nice to still hold on to that child-like excitement over a little game like this. 

“Polo!” you call out, hoping the sound of the falls throws off your location. 

He swims in the opposite direction and you throw your hand over your mouth, trying not to giggle. You’re so giggly right now. It feels foreign, but so nice. 

“Marco!” he calls out again from further away. 

“Polo!” 

He starts to swim in your direction and you feel the same anxious excitement you did as a kid, playing in your parents’ pool with your cousins. 

“Marco!”

“Polo” you call out as quietly as possible so he can barely hear you. 

“Hey, that’s not fair! You’re cheating!” he complains, but his grin tells you he’s still having a blast. 

You want to argue with him, but you stay silent, not wanting to give away your position, especially since he is getting dangerously close. He approaches you, under the overhang where it’s much quieter and has an echo. 

“Marco!” he calls out, a small look of shock on his face, not realizing where he is. 

“Polo,” you say softly. 

He darts toward you and you squeal, swimming away. He catches your foot and you laugh loudly, trying to swim away from him. 

“Gotcha!” he exclaims, opening his eyes. 

Danny’s breath is almost taken away seeing the way your grin lights up your whole face. Pure joy. You’ve only looked nervous or out of breath around him so far. He already thought you were beautiful, but that look…the way you bit your bottom lip and giggled as you looked at him. He can’t look away. He swims closer to you, inches away again. 

“Your turn.” His voice is low and barely above a whisper. Your breath catches and your eyes roam across his chest and shoulders, settling on his neck-droplets of water slowly gliding down over and around his Adam’s apple, like yesterday, but today it is so much more enticing being alone and secluded with him. 

“Okay,” you breathe, slowly swimming back to the center of the pool. “You ready?” you call out once you reach your destination. 

“Yeah!” 

“Alright, 1…2…3…” you count to 10 immediately yelling, “Marco!”

“Polo!” His voice is like velvet, and it makes it hard to focus. He’s actually really well-spoken, now that you think about it. He enunciates well, more so than most men his age, and his pitch isn’t low, but the timbre of his voice is. It makes you wonder what he would sound like speaking softly in your ear.

You shake yourself out of your daydream, swim toward the sound and call out again, “Marco!” 

“Polo!”

He sounds a lot closer now, and you’re surprised he’s not trying to be quieter. 

“Marco!” You swim closer to the falls, the spray hitting your face. 

“Polo,” he says quietly, but only because it sounds like he is right next to you. 

“Marco,” you say softly, reaching out and feeling the water falling onto your hand. 

“Polo,” he whispers. You can feel his hot breath inches from your face. 

You touch his chest and open your eyes. The water from the falls assaults his back as he leans in, his lips so close you can already feel them. You suck in a breath, looking down at his lips…so soft and supple and oh so inviting. You place your other hand on his chest, feeling it rise and fall with each breath, his skin so warm and soft, the muscles firm under your fingertips. Just how you imagined. 

“Can I kiss you, y/n” he whispers, his lips so close that they brush yours when he says your name. 

“Yes,” you breathe, running your hands up to his shoulders. You're so eager and dying to claw at his shoulders, latch onto his lips and steal the breath from his lungs, but you let him take the reins. 

He moves in slowly, so slowly you don’t even know how it’s possible considering how little space there is between you already. You feel your hardened nipples rub against his chest, and you feel hot to your core. You want to devour him. He finally locks his lips with yours, softly. Oh so softly. You let out a small whimper. He tastes so much better than you could have dreamed. His lips are warm and gentle and they mold perfectly with yours. He settles one hand on your hip under the water, and caresses your back with the other. It feels so intimate that your heart aches. You glide your hands around his shoulders to his back, one settling there while the other moves up and snakes through his wet curls. Your lips intertwine in a perfectly choreographed dance. You still feel the urgency to taste more of him, but God this feels so good-savoring one another. He introduces his tongue, lightly brushing it against your lower lip, and you happily welcome it, opening your mouth and softly licking back, your tongues now entering this slow dance. He pulls you flush with his body and you gasp, feeling his groin against your heat. He’s already getting hard, and you relish in it. You wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders as he wraps your legs around his waist, both of you still bobbing in the water and giggling when you move toward the falls, the water breaking your kiss. You both swim back over a couple of feet, not leaving your embrace. You take over, gripping his shoulder and kissing him deeply, moaning into his mouth. He whimpers softly-a sound that you will most definitely be committing to memory-and runs his hand through your hair, holding you steady as he pulls back from the kiss for a moment. 

“I…I need just a minute,” he says with a small laugh. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” you say, embarrassed as you pull away. 

“No! God, no, please don’t leave.” He gently pulls you back to him and wraps his arms around you, caressing your back again. “I just…if I don’t stop now…Well, I don’t know how I’ll be able to hold back,” he confesses, looking down shyly. God, your heart is aching for this man you barely know. 

“It’s okay,” you breathe, gently guiding his chin up with your knuckle. “We should probably head out soon anyway. It looks like an afternoon storm is rolling in.” You both glance up at the sky and see dark gray clouds forming overhead. 

“Yeah…I guess we should,” he says, sounding disappointed, but somehow relieved at the same time. “Plus, you have a performance tonight, right?” he asks. 

“Yeah, I do,” you reply with a small smile, looking intrigued. “You looked for me on the itinerary?”

He looks down again shyly. It’s so cute how nervous he is right now. You thought he was just so confident and sure of himself before. “Yeah, I did. Josie and I thought maybe we would bring our parents tonight. They would love it.” 

“That’s sweet,” you smile. “I would love to see you there again. Any requests?”

“Anything by Elton John,” he replies as you both start to swim to shore. 

“That, I can definitely do,” you giggle again as you both step out. 

Pulling towels from your respective backpacks, you dry off quickly before throwing on your clothes and shoes. Pulling on your packs, you make your way to the trail. 

“I hope we can beat the storm,” you say, worriedly. 

“Wanna race?” he asks, flashing that adorable grin again. 

You laugh and dart off in front of him, before he catches up to you, grabbing you by the waist and tickling you to slow you down. 

“Cheater!” you accuse, laughing loudly as you run after him, a smile taking over your whole face. A smile you hadn’t felt in such a long time.

Again...I'm a slow-burner! More spice and sibling love in chapter 3!

Go to Chapter 3

@spark-my-nature @dazeebean @smoking-jakelane @dogwood-blossom

[cinewhore]

The Duchess of London

Pairing: Thomas “Tommy” Shelby x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: angst, mentions of drinking, drugs, blood, gore, sexual assault (not detailed), fighting, guns, smut (penetration, creampie, wrap it up lads!), fluff. 

A/N: The PB bug bit me and it bit me hard! Had to get this out. Takes place in season 2. Reminder that this is a bit dark given the contents of the show so if something rubs you the wrong way, don’t read it! You also don’t need to provide an explanation as to why you won’t read it, just keep scrolling. No beta cause I said so. Enjoy! Credits to the gif artist. 

Birmingham smelled like shit.

London smelled worse.

You thank your bodyguard as he helps you out of the car, careful not to drag your dress along the mud, it was brand new and you didn’t have the best relationship with the new seamstress that replaced your old one.

It was a strange thing, being back home. Your old stomping grounds. You remember the days fondly, racing up and down the roads, dashing through the traffic of folks who populated the area. You always found yourself somewhere you shouldn’t be, getting scolded by your aunt when you arrived home well past dark. There’s a slight twinge in your chest as you reminisce, desperately wishing you could go back.

Luckily, your old house wasn’t far from your lodgings, Rich spooked by the rumors of how lawless this part of town was. You couldn’t blame him, Birmingham had long been abandoned by any sense of law and order. The police only came when it benefited them, so the local organized crime had taken over.

“Rich, I’ll only be a few minutes. Keep the car running.” you instruct. The burly man nods in respect.

“Yes ma’am.” He tips his hat at you, heading back to the car.

It was a choice, coming back here. There were nothing but terrible memories you worked too hard to forget but you felt like you owed it to yourself and your aunt to come back. The house was exactly how you remembered it, sparse furnishings but warm with spirit.

Now it was half empty and lonely.

You were fast in your approach to gather anything you deemed important, the house was likely going to be cleaned and left up for rent. Photographs, scraps of clothing, broken china were all stuffed into a bag you brought with you. These were the broken fragments of your old life you weren’t ready to part ways with just yet.

After muttering a quick prayer for your aunt and hoping that the devil caught your uncle, you say goodbye to the Brimingham girl you used to be.

You needed a fucking drink.

You swagger into the Garrison, amused at the drunken men shouting across each other. You’re well aware of the stares you were receiving, knowing that a woman of your stature and style could only mean two things: you were a well off prostitute or the lavish wife of a man no one wanted to fuck with.

You took pride in being neither.

A man with a kind face smiles at you from behind the bar, throwing a white towel across his shoulder.

“What can I get you, love?”

“Whiskey. Neat.”

“What kind?”

You pretend to think about it. “Surprise me.”

The kind man chuckles to himself before hustling to get your drink. You dig around in your purse, pulling out a few bills that were much more than your drink likely cost. A hand covers your own as you slide the bills across the bar and you gaze up into a familiar face.

“I heard whispers about a very rich looking person coming into town, you wouldn’t have happened to see anything, have you?”

You couldn’t forget those piercing blue eyes even if you tried.

Suppressing a smile, you take the glass set in front of you and drain it quickly before gesturing for a refill. Tommy waves his hand at the barkeep.

“Get a bottle and bring it in the room.” he instructs, ushering you into the private area where he conducts business.

You follow behind him, silently thanking him as he pulls out a seat for you.

The two of you don’t say a word as he pours you another drink, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.

“Thomas fucking Shelby.” you finally murmur, overcome with nostalgia. “How long has it been?”

Tommy gives a half shrug. “More than ten years, I’d say.”

“This yours?” you finally take a second to gaze about, impressed with the architecture. It felt like too beautiful of a place to be in Birmingham.

“More or less. It was a gift to Arthur.”

You grin. “A gift you didn’t buy.”

“A gift, nonetheless.” he takes a long drag of the cigarette, cautious as he blows the smoke out of his nose and in a direction that wasn’t facing you. “Heard about your uncle.”

You nod, posture stiffening. “May his soul rot.”

Tommy raises his eyebrows and his glass, downing his drink. “Cheers.”

“So,” you lean back in your seat. “What has Thomas Shelby been up to all these years?”

Tommy mimics your actions, scratching at his face. “Making business happen. Staying out of trouble.”

“You’re trying to be legal?” your curiosity piqued.

“Something like that.” He holds his arms out wide. “We’re expanding.”

“Into London. Fucking with the status quo there, I heard.”

Something in Tommy’s face hardens and he regards you with contempt. “Is that so?”

“It’s kind of my business to know. You are stepping into my turf. I don’t give a shit either way, this feud you have with the Italians is kind of good for business.”

“How?”

You take out a cigarette of your own, a long black cigarette holder accompanying it. Thomas doesn’t take his eyes off of you as he strikes a match, watching your mouth closely as you take a few drags. “People are far too concerned if there’s war coming to worry about women and their petty activities. Makes it easier to get into their pockets.”

“Did someone send you here?” He asks slowly, a tiny gun appearing on the table.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “No. As I have mentioned, I’m not interested in whatever dick measuring contest you have going on with Sabini. I’m just a girl who came to dance on her dead uncle’s grave.”

Tommy can tell that you’re being honest. It was refreshing but strange, he wasn’t one to openly trust people. You were the one person who didn’t care about what he was doing in a sea of people who questioned his every move.

“Dick measuring contest, eh?”

You had been fucked well before, sometimes from other women but nothing compared to how well Thomas Shelby was fucking you now.

His home was modest, clean cut and devoid of character. You were currently bent over on his bed being hastily taken from behind. It was as if he had just returned home from the war, eager and hungry for a woman’s touch. He couldn’t get enough.

Tommy staggers backwards, tapping your ass to get your attention.

“Fucking come here.” he rasps out and you giggle as he moves papers off a desk in the corner, hauling you on top of it. You spread your legs so he could slot himself in between them, entering you again with no hesitation.

“Don’t step on my dress.” you moan out, crossing your legs along his back.

“That, shit, all you care about now?” Tommy hisses, placing a hand on your hip to keep you still.

You nod furiously, leaning your head back against the wall and closing your eyes. You had already come undone twice and felt the third emerging soon.

“Fuck,” Tommy pants, taking his other hand and wrapping it around your throat. You loved the feeling of being choked and worked hard to memorize the touch of his fingers squeezing your skin. “I’ll buy you another dress. I’ll buy the fucking dress factory. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, fuck yes, Tommy.” You tighten around his cock as you come again, causing him to groan and weaken his stamina. “I want you to give me everything I ask for.”

“What do you want, hm?” He questions, making sure to maintain eye contact with you. It was difficult to keep your eyes open but you’d be damned if you didn’t try.

“I want your cum, all of it. I want you to empty your balls,” you reach a hand down for added effect. “Into my cunt.”

And just like that, Tommy thrusts into you forcefully twice more before coming to completion. You both groan at the sensation, the trickling of his seed oozing out of you and down your thigh. He rests his head against your shoulder, breathing heavily. You allow your legs to go slack, wincing at how stiff they had gotten.

After a moment of rest, Tommy helps you into bed where the two of you take the time to decompress.

“You’re marked.” Thomas comments, trailing a finger down the scar on the back of your left shoulder. It was in the shape of the number four, a reminder of what - who - you belonged to.

Joining the Forty Elephants was an honest mistake. When you arrived and couldn’t secure a place on your own, you resorted to petty theft just like any other low class person in your position. It had been the wrong place at the wrong time. You slipped inside of a clothing store, hoping to pick up a few nice shirts so you could find a steady job that wasn’t walking the streets at night. Turns out the Forty Elephants were at the height of a heist and you barged right into the middle of it.

You were caught and arrested with three other women. You begged and pleaded with the police, urging them to believe you when you said you were acting out on your own. You were all jailed together and you spent the night getting the living daylights kicked out of you. The next morning, the four of you were released and you were handed off to the leader of the up and coming gang.

“Some fucking runt you are.” She spat, sizing you up. You were interrogated relentlessly, the boss lady, Mary, assuming you were sent in by a rival gang to screw them up on purpose. When you justified your case, she nodded. You were brought in, taken care of and most importantly, you were protected.

You made nice with the other girls and became a skilled pickpocket, lock picker and seductress. The nickname “duchess” came after you managed to lift a hefty sum, including a car, from a duke. It was then you elevated your style and sense of purpose. You began to educate yourself, investing in legal companies and stockpiling your wealth for a rainy day.

You knew that life with the Elephants wouldn’t last forever and you needed a way out when the time came.

“It was my initiation.” You tell Tommy, breath catching slightly as his touch made you shiver.

He hums, pressing a small kiss to it. “I saw you that night.”

You frown, flipping over on your side to face him. He invites you to lay closer and you gingerly accept his invitation, perching yourself on his chest. “What do you mean?”

Tommy takes another puff from his cigarette before answering. “When you left Birmingham. It was at night. I was taking a walk with my brothers, and saw you scrambling to get out of the house. You ran like a bat out of hell. Never looked back once.”

“Oh.” You look down at your fingers, absentmindedly stroking the tattoo on his chest. You take a second to formulate a response, unsure of how to answer after years of not speaking about it. Tommy doesn’t push, waiting patiently for an answer that may never come.

After a moment of silence, you give him one. “He said I reminded him of her. Before she died, he was cold and distant. Afterwards, it was as if I had taken her place. It wasn’t the first time it happened. I remember crying a lot after. But that night, for whatever reason, I was determined to make it the last.”

You swallow thickly, brows furrowed as you replay the scene in your head. “I waited on him. Nearly fell asleep but like clockwork, he came creeping in the wee hours of the morning. I managed to stab him five times before I got away.”

Maneuvering yourself out of Tommy’s arms, you straddle him instead, pinpointing all the places you cut your uncle.

“Twice here.” You tap at his right peck with your finger. “Once in the stomach, once in the arm and once on his shoulder. He was a big guy and it was as if it didn’t faze him. Killing him didn’t matter at that point, I just wanted to be gone. So, I ran. Everyday for years, I kept looking over my shoulder, sure that he was going to show up and try to take me home. I hated myself. He got to live out his life and I suffered because of him.”

The tears surprised you as they dripped down your cheeks, hot and constant. Tommy is bemused as he wipes them away, his face never changing. You always pondered on who Tommy really was and what went on underneath the mask he was wearing. Then again, perhaps there was no mask to begin with.

“It’s stupid, I know.” you continue, hurriedly swiping at your eyes.

“It’s not. You did what you needed to do, what you thought was right. No one can ever blame you for that.”

“Funny, coming from a Peaky Blinder.” you chide with a small grin.

“Even funnier, coming from an Elephant.” he retorts without wasting a breath.

You sigh, placing your hands against his broad chest. “Cut from the same cloth, are we?”

Tommy nods, setting the now stub of a cigarette out in the ashtray placed on the nightstand. He turns his attention back to you, mind racing as he studies your features. How he let you slip away, how he went years without seeking you out plagued him from time to time. You were elusive, a mirage of a seemingly perfect woman he shouldn't taint with his touch. You’ve grown into your features, personality blossoming. You weren’t subservient like many of the other women he had encountered, all who would bat their eyelashes at him in hopes that they would get picked to be with a real gangster.

“Stay. I have an opening in my office, we could use the help. You’d straighten out Arthur, no doubt.”

You scoff, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to be a guard dog or a bloody receptionist, Tommy. Besides, I’m expected back in London tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“Family business.”

Tommy lights another cigarette at that.

“You could come with me. I wouldn’t force you to stay but maybe just to take your mind off of things?”

“Can’t. Family business.”

You laugh quietly, shrugging your shoulders. “What we wouldn’t do for those we love.”

The walk home from Tommy’s is uneventful, both basking in each other’s silence. It was comfortable and intimate, the only thing interrupting it was the sound of children out playing far too late and drunken men hurling commentary out at anyone that walked by them.

The folks of Brimingham were familiar with the Shelby’s but they aren't familiar with you which is how you became a prime target for unwanted advances. The man had to have been well beyond plastered, for any woman seen with Tommy was assumed to be his.

You couldn’t even understand half of what the agitated bloke was saying, just that he was making weird gestures with hands, pretending to jerk himself off. Others had attempted to warn him and even Tommy moved in for the kill but you stopped him.

“No, no. I want to hear what this lad has to say. What’s this then? You wanna have a go with me? Is this how you approach all the women you like?”

You feign boredom, sticking both hands in the pockets of your coat. You rummage around in your right pocket, discreetly slipping your fingers into the holes of a brass knuckle.

“Yeah, it is. Now, when you’re done with this half starved looking bastard, how about you come home with a real man who can fuck you until-”

Your movements were swift and graceful, as if you had done this a hundred times before. The knuckles smash into the poor man’s face, instantly cracking and breaking his nose. Tumbling onto the ground, you crouch over the drunkard and wail on him until splatters of blood dot your face like a painting.

Tommy watches as you all but kill this man with your bare hands and does absolutely nothing. His overwhelming glare warned the others to back off while you continued, the bystanders knowing what their fate could look like should they interfere.

Panting, you back off the guy, using your free hand to wipe at your face. You spit, step across the moaning body and proceed towards your lodgings as if nothing occurred. Tommy falls in step with you, offering a handkerchief which you accept. While the Forty Elephants appeared to be harmless with crimes of shoplifting and bribery, you had a more rampageous approach to it all. The streets of London had toughened you, like it or not.

At the end of the day, you needed to make sure that you could take care of yourself and if it meant taking another person’s life, so be it.

Tommy had never wanted you more. But nothing good could come out of the two of you being together, you both knew that. It would be similar to chaining two wild dogs together and expecting them not to bite each other's necks off when there’s only enough food for one.

You had the Elephants and London. He had Brimingham and the Blinders. Somewhere, you would meet in the middle but there wasn’t room for overlap. Tommy was sure that being wed to an Elephant meant more turf and control but he wouldn’t dare do that to you. He couldn’t do it to himself. He would come to you whenever he wanted and you’d do the same to him.

Rich straightens up upon seeing your silhouette, clasping his hands together in front of him obediently. He takes one look at your face and reaches inside his coat to grab his gun when you raise a hand out.

“S’alright. Just had a little accident. You know Tommy.”

Rich gives Tommy a once over before relaxing.

“Shall I see you inside, then?”

You gesture at Rich to go on ahead of you, planting yourself firmly in front of Thomas. “No, I think it’s better if we say our goodbyes out here.”

Tommy smiles briefly, lighting yet another cigarette. “You don’t trust me?”

“I don’t trust that I’ll make it back to London tomorrow if you do come up.”

He takes a small step towards you, jawline rigid as he exhales through his nose. “I could leave early, before you wake up.”

“I wouldn’t allow you to.” Plucking the flaming stick out his mouth, you press a wistful kiss to his lips, melting into his embrace as he deepens it.

Hesitant to pull away, you ease back reluctantly. Your hands smooth his across his coat, reaching upwards to tug at his beloved hat.

“When you’re in London, I expect a call.”

Thomas rests his forehead against yours, licking at his dried lips. “I’ll always make sure to pay the Duchess a visit.”

You peck his lips one last time before returning the cigarette. Tommy watches as you disappear inside the hotel, satisfied knowing that you were safe and back in your room. Doubling back to the Garrison, now in full swing for the night, he gets welcomed with a drink from John and a pat on the back from Arthur.

“Tell me brother, what’s it like to be with royalty, eh? Is her pussy made out of gold?” Arthur cracks himself up, thoroughly entertained by his own quip.

“Fuck off, Arthur.” Tommy says dryly, taking a swig of whiskey.

“Did you tell her?”

Tommy raises an eyebrow at John. “Tell her what?”

“About her fuckin’ uncle?”

Tommy doesn’t answer and the two brothers give each other a glance.

“Bloody hell, Tommy-” Arthur starts. Tommy raises a hand and waves him off.

“Of course I didn’t fucking tell her. All that matters is that he’s in the ground, eh? Now get me another bottle and stop whining in my fucking ear.”

Arthur is slow as he departs from his sibling, a lopsided smirk plaguing his face.

Tommy thinks to himself that maybe he should’ve mentioned how your uncle actually died. You were told that he had a nasty fall after a night out of heavy drinking. In reality, it was the Peaky Blinders doing. Not only was your uncle a piece of shit, he also had a gambling problem. He got mixed in with the wrong folks and unknowingly stole money from the Blinders to help pay off a gambling debt. He was sloppy in execution which caught the attention of Tommy.

Upon finding out who actually took his money, Tommy made it a personal mission to seek him out. The man, Ronald, folded like a chair when Tommy and the boys appeared on his doorstep. He cried and begged for mercy, which they showed him none. Especially not after he confessed what he had done to you.

Ronald knew you made it to London and had fallen into some money, so whenever he got into debt he just told people that you were wealthy and would deliver money for his payments. Even after you cut ties with him and tried to kill him, he proceeded to use you.

Tommy wouldn’t have it.

“Oi! Tommy!” Arthur returns with the bottle in hand. “You got any spare cash on ya? I wanna set up a quick date with Beatrice.”

Tommy looks at his brother with slight disdain and rolls his eyes. “I’m not your accountant.”

“Yeah, yeah. I left my wad back at the office. Just cough it up, would ya?”

“If it means I won’t have to look at your face anymore, fine.”

Tommy reaches inside his pants pocket where he normally keeps an emergency stack and finds it empty. Scowling, Tommy pats himself down extensively before the light bulb goes off.

He laughs.

Not a cheeky snicker or a lame jest. Thomas Shelby actually laughs.

Confused but willing to follow his brother anywhere, Arthur begins to laugh as well until they’re both hanging onto each other, gasping for air.

At the hotel, you answer the door to your room, thanking the bellboy for bringing up your dinner. Tucking a hand in your bra, a wad of cash spills out. You grab a handful of it and place it into the hand of the blushing young man. He stammers out a thank you, hightailing it back to the lobby.

You get comfortable in bed, eager to dive into the captivating spread laid out in front of you. Closing your eyes, you fold your hands in front of you in mock prayer.

“Thank you dear lord for this appetizing food and for the Peaky fucking Blinders. Amen.”

[howlingday]

Ruby, up and coming hero blessed with the Silver Eyes, has heard terrible news! A horrible fiend has invaded the lands! A demon, hailing from a long and cursed line, master of sorcery and steel, a silver tongued trickster, a slave master, a depraved incubus, foul crafts hiding under welcoming illusions, a keen mind of gears and schemes and plots within plots, stronger than iron and quicker than quicksilver, all this and more, has taken control of an abandoned fortress! Determined to boldly rid the lands of this foul taint, (and to prove to Yang she’s a big girl!) she sets off to confront the monster alone! (Bad girl! That’s the first rule of adventuring: don’t go it solo!)

Except, no???????? Jaune has never seen or heard of any ‘demon’ around here. He just moved in, trying to strike out on his own, but nothing seems to be cursed from what he can see. He seems nice enough too. He’s fixing up the old ruin, disabling traps, healing folks when they wander into his place, and all that. Strong, smart, endlessly kind. Talks about his family a lot, they look so happy in the photo. That crest looks familiar, but it’s probably nothing. Surely he’s not the monster, but she can sure use his help to slay the monster when she finds him!

You see, the Arcs are only labeled villains because they refused to kowtow to the government way back when. Their views on life, other races, virtues, and such also puts them at odds with the narrative. The Arcs also have higher standards before they allow their kids to go on adventures, so even the weakest is very strong even to other adventurers. Slightly inspired by the Mind Reaver comic strips by Edd Lai.

So, I decided to have a look into Mind Reaver by Edd Lai, and I have to say I love the idea. A Mind Flayer that's actually a good guy and helps people who wander into his house. It's cute, especially when his niece and... servant, I think? Anyway, it's all so cute, and I highly recommend y'all check it out. Anyway, on to the story.

===========================

WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE

JAUNE "SALEM'S PALADIN" ARC

REWARD ON APREHENSION

===========================

Ruby looked down at the wanted poster in her hand, carefully examining the features in the mugshot. She'd heard many stories about the Arc family, though much of it was told in the darkest of night as a warning to not stray too far from home, or to not stay up too late, or to file your taxes on time. His jawline was coated in thick hair, and his blue eyes gazed death into the soul of those who view them. There were many other tales, too, like how he'd sway any woman into being his slave, take cannon fire with his bare body, and would even subject whole armies with his sorceries.

Ruby looked up from the poster to see the baby-faced man sitting across from her at the table. She'd found him, demanding to engage in honorable combat between warriors! His response was, "Can we get coffee first?" Ruby agreed and watched as he sipped from his mug after waiting for to cool.

"Ooh!" He winced. "Still kinda hot."

"Uh..."

"Oh, sorry!" He then handed her a napkin. "I think I forgot to split our share."

"No, you already did." Ruby shook her head. "Besides, there's more important stuff going on here!"

"More important how?"

"I mean like this!" She slapped the wanted poster onto the table, earning a groan from him.

"Not another one." He shook his head. "Can we finish our coffee first?"

"I... I guess?" Ruby shrugged. "But why aren't you all... Y'know, big and scary and trying to mind-break me?"

"...Because I can't?" He asked more than he said. He then took the poster in his massive, clawed hands. Each finger was about the size of a breakfast sausage. "I really wish they would get a new picture. They make me look like a monster in this."

"Aren't you?" Ruby asked.

"Half." He answered. "Well, kinda sorta. You see, my great-great-great-"

Ruby whirled her fingers in a wheel as he rounded off each great in his ancestor's name. She'd heard a lot of tales about monsters and humans and faunus getting together, except for the Grimm, who were mindless beasts of destruction. What usually came from these unions was either monster or human or faunus, but on rare occasions, half-monsters would be born. These creatures were then cast out of the village upon their discovery, usually ending with their own demise. It was sad and cruel, but terribly not uncommon.

"-great-grandma Salem, the mother of all Grimm."

"Wait, I thought Grimm couldn't reproduce."

"They can't, but she can. Or could, since she hasn't had any kids since The Great Tear." Open in dimensions from a huge magical clash, brought monsters into Remnant, new age of war, magic, and adventure for everyone. Ruby knew it well enough from the stories. "Ooh! Still hot." He chuckled, after wincing from another sip of hot coffee.

"Okay, so then why is everyone after you? Half-monsters don't usually have posters, unless they commit a crime."

"Well, I didn't."

"You didn't?"

"He did." Ruby whirled in her seat to find a young woman standing in the doorway to the coffee shop. She stepped in with guards trailing behind her, all heavily armored, while she herself wore an elegant officer's jacket. "Jaune Arc, I am placing you under arrest in the name of the Schnee Dust Queendom."

"What did I do?" Jaune asked.

"Yeah, what did he do?" Ruby asked.

Snapping her fingers, a heavy, white book was brought to her hands. Opening it, the pages fluttered until they landed on a pair of pages with Jaune's name and mugshot on them. Clearing her throat, she began.

"Corrupting the minds of the youth."

"Hey, Mr. Whitley asked me to tutor him!"

"Silence!" She barked, her face growing a bit red. "Seducing a high ranking officer of the Schnee Dust Queendom."

"Your mother was a nice woman! She kissed me first!"

"I said shut up!" Her face grew even more red. "And public indecency while resisting Queendom duties."

"You fired a cannon at me!"

"And stripped yourself bare in an attempt to intimidate us."

"MY CLOTHES WERE BURNED OFF!"

"AND I SAID SHUT UP!" Face completely red, she tossed the book behind her in a fury. "You will surrender yourself at once, Salem's Paladin!"

"Oh, come- I don't even know Salem!" He defended. "I've never even met my great-great-great-great-"

"Great." Ruby groaned. "You got him started again."

"And who are you?"

"Ruby Rose, bounty hunter." She smiled. "Who are you?"

"Queen-Heiress-Apparent Weiss Schnee," she huffed, "and I'm taking this criminal in."

"Nuh-uh."

"What do you mean, 'nuh-uh'?"

"I mean nuh-uh."

"-great-great-great-grandma Salem!"

"Did you add two greats on there?" Ruby asked.

"Enough!" Weiss snarled. "You are both being brought into custody!"

"Aw, really? But couldn't we have... coffee?" Ruby winked at Jaune.

"No, we can't." Weiss answered.

"Jaune!" Ruby whined. "You were supposed to throw coffee on her!"

"Excuse me?!" Weiss screeched.

"Yeah, excuse you?!" Jaune reeled back. "Why would I do that?!"

"Because it'd be totally cool, like in an action comic!" Ruby reasoned.

"But it would hurt her!"

"THAT'S THE POINT!"

"ENOUGH!"

The cafe rumbled as white circles covered the walls and floors. An angry Schnee huffed in and out of her nose as she pulled out her rapier. Behind her, soldiers readied their guns on the two. Ruby glanced to Jaune, who gulped at the sight. Looks like she was going to do this alone.

"Are you sure you don't want coffee? It's really good~!" Ruby sang.

"Oh, please," Weiss rolled her eyes, "do you really think you can throw coffee on me now that I'm aware that's your- ARGH! BIG NICHOLAS FUCK!" She held her face as very, very, very, very, very warm coffee splashed onto her face.

Ruby took the cue and grabbed Jaune. Together, the two weaved through gunfire as yellow and red petals fluttered to the floor. The two had successfully made their escape, and it seemed the soldiers inside were easily distracted, too, as they began barking orders at one another. One of them actually barked like a dog, too, which was weird.

"AFTER THEM!" The barking died as the Schnee roared over them all.

Weiss used a blanket of napkins to wrap around ice dust and held it to her face. One guard remained behind, holding her book. Through her anger, she gave him an order that would turn the world upside down for Ruby and Jaune.

"I want wanted posters in every kingdom," she seethed, "and I want that Demon Couple locked up YESTERDAY!"

[totowlff]

chapter fourteen — even three, four, or five

➝ it's time to cassie and toto discover a little more about their 'little bean'

➝ word count: 3,9k

➝ warnings: mentions of medical procedures, christian horner

➝ author’s note: i know it took us too long, but cassie is finally back, and with news!

14 WEEKS Many moms-to-be begin to feel hungrier, more energetic and less nauseous as early pregnancy symptoms start to subside. Meanwhile, your baby's getting chubbier by the day, and may be starting to sprout some hair.

— Are you nervous? — Toto leaned over to ask Cassie, as they sat in adjoining chairs in the waiting room of the obstetrics clinic — Because I am.

— No, I wasn’t even thinking about it — Cassie said, dryly — I was trying to think of what to make for dinner later.

Toto’s expression turned to confusion as he turned his head to the left a bit to glance at the woman in the chair beside him.

— You can’t be serious…

Cassie sighed. 

— Of course I’m nervous, Toto. I’m trying not to be, but… I just keep thinking that something is wrong. I don’t know why. I hope I’m just being paranoid. Plus, I’m kind of hoping we… Find out the sex today.

Cassie put one of her hands on her belly. She was starting to show more clearly — it no longer looked like she had some bad gas or a big lunch. She had opted to start wearing leggings and long shirts to work, because her work trousers and jeans no longer fit. She hadn’t started shopping for maternity clothes, but was a bit hesitant about actually wearing them yet, at least until she disclosed the pregnancy. She hadn’t yet told her colleagues, resolving to do so after the 14th week scan that she and Toto were on their way to.

The pregnancy seemed to be arriving at the stages where Cassie felt undeniably pregnant, and not like she was experiencing a persistent mild flu. The morning sickness had stopped, but instead, Cassie felt ravenously hungry, and was experiencing a strange pain around her hips that her doctor said was apparently an expected symptom. She had started doing some gentle yoga to help relieve the pain, and had discovered the joy of a nightly warm bath.

They’d discussed the sex of their baby when the idea of pregnancy was just something theoretical — something they both wanted and were looking forward to, but not yet reality. 

Like most parents, their preference was for a healthy baby, and sex was a secondary matter. Still, it didn’t stop Cassie from daydreaming of a little girl. 

She’d never gotten along with boys, for the most part. She had always preferred to play with her sister over her brother, and until university, her brother was the only boy she’d spent a significant amount of time with. She’d gone to an all-girls school growing up and, even in the present day, she had a much better relationship with her sister than her brother. And, though it was anecdotal, she remembered her sister-in-law having a much easier time with her three girls than Helena had with Tommy. He was a sweet boy at age 4, but was somewhat of a terror when he was a baby. 

For Toto’s part, he was also hoping for a girl. His sister had three boys that Toto adored — and were very nice when Cassie had met them — but said he could more clearly envision a daughter than a son. Cassie also suspected that Toto was also probably a bit swayed by his mother remarking that she still wanted a granddaughter.

But, if it was their destiny to have a boy, so be it. Cassie just hoped the baby would get Toto’s dimples.

They had scheduled Cassie’s 14-week scan for an afternoon during a week with no races. Toto felt so horrible about being late for Cassie’s first ultrasound that he had his assistant block off his entire day after lunch, and they would be going to Cassie’s flat after the appointment to talk about their preparations for the baby while they had dinner together. 

Toto wanted to drive her, but Cassie insisted that they each take their own cars.

— What will people say if they see us leaving the factory together, in your car, and early?

— Honestly, it doesn’t matter to me — Toto said, shrugging. Seeing Cassie's incredulous expression, he continued — Really, it’s not anyone’s business.

But then, Cassie pointed out that driving separately would save them a trip back to the factory after their appointment to pick up her car

Toto left a few minutes ahead of Cassie, but waited for her in the clinic’s car park so that they could go in together. It felt nice, as did being back to an exam room as “Miss Aldersey and Mr. Wolff”. “If only it were Mr. and Mrs. Wolff”, Cassie’s mind supplied, unhelpfully. Cassie followed the now-familiar routine of lowering her pants and hiking up her shirt before her obstetrician, Dr. Reynolds, knocked on the door and walked in.

— Good afternoon, Miss Aldersey, Mr Wolff — she said, giving them each a handshake in greeting. As she washed her hands and prepared the ultrasound equipment, she asked Cassie about the progress of her pregnancy — Any excessive pain, or unusual bleeding?

— No — Cassie said, as the doctor turned off the lights. Cassie, then, felt Toto gently squeeze her hand. He was perched on a stool next to the exam table — Just the pain around my hips and belly that we talked about at my last appointment, but taking a warm bath helps when it gets really bad.

— Good — Dr. Reynolds said, as she started to smear Cassie’s belly with gel — All of those ligaments are starting to stretch and loosen as your body goes through so many changes. Some gentle stretching or yoga is also helpful. Now, let’s hope your baby is cooperative today so we can get some good images.

As the doctor was getting the transducer ready, Cassie caught sight of Toto out of the corner of her eye. His eyes were fixed directly on her belly, his expression inscrutable.

— Something wrong? — Cassie asked. 

— No, I just… I hadn’t realized how much you’re, um… Showing, until now — Toto said, quietly. He looked sheepish, and if the light in the room wasn’t so dim, Cassie would swear she could see him blushing — You’ve been wearing those bigger shirts and dresses lately at work, so this is the first time I’ve seen you like this. You look… Beautiful.

He brought the hand he was holding to his lips and gently kissed her fingers, and Cassie could feel herself blushing, but before she could say anything, the doctor had started the scan, and both of them turned their attention to the monitor. 

A grainy, pulsing, black-and-white image displayed on the screen as the doctor passed the transducer over Cassie’s belly.

— Okay, let’s see where we are…

The blurring resolved into a definite image, the profile of something that looked like the profile of a baby’s head appearing. Cassie’s breath caught in her throat for a moment, and she thought she felt Toto’s gentle hold on her hand tighten. The last scan she had was too early in her pregnancy for anything to show other than something small, peculiar, and alien-looking, but now…

— It’s our baby — Toto whispered. Cassie smiled and took her eyes off the screen to look up at Toto. He was transfixed, a smile on his face as he watched the baby’s movements. After a moment, his eyes started shining, reflecting the light of the ultrasound screen in the darkness.

Cassie squeezed his hand. 

— Are you okay? — she whispered. But even as she asked, she knew exactly what he was feeling, because she felt it, too; the surreal enormity, the hope, the fear, all of it at once. Toto squeezed her hand back, and he glanced back down at Cassie. He tried to hide a sniffle, but it was unsuccessful.

The doctor took some measurements, and explained that, at least at first glance, everything looked to be going as expected.

— Now, you can’t always see it at this point in gestational development, but do you want to know the sex, if we can see it?

Cassie briefly glanced at Toto, each of them seeming to ask the other’s permission. 

— Yes, I think we both wanted to find out today, if we can — Cassie said, and Toto nodded. 

The doctor moved the transducer to the other side of Cassie’s belly, squinting at the screen once more. Cassie watched, feeling like she should know exactly what she was looking at, but all she saw were more blurry, undulating lines. 

— Let’s see… Ah, there we go. Now, again, it’s not always the most accurate at this point, and we’ll confirm when you’re further along, but — Dr. Reynolds said, pointing at something on the console screen. Cassie squinted to see what the doctor was pointing at, apparently seeing something specific in the monochrome mass of pulsating shapes — You can see the two legs here, and if you look at this bit here, you see how it’s parallel to the spine? That means, more than likely, you’ll be having a little girl.

Cassie felt her entire body flood with warmth, and felt Toto squeezing her hand, but after that, things barely registered for a few moments. She hadn’t dared to get her hopes up that her intuition had been correct. She had done some cursory searches online to see how people thought they could tell, and every method described seemed like an old wives’ tale, and that she’d have to try and summon the patience to simply wait.

After a moment, she thought to look at Toto to see what he thought. He’d also mentioned that he would want a girl if he had a choice — but, like Cassie, would simply be content with a healthy, happy baby — and his joy was plain to see in the expression on his face. Many would call Toto a difficult man to read, but Cassie never thought so, particularly when he was happy or excited about something. When he was genuinely happy, it seemed like his smile spread to every part of his face. The subtle dimples in his cheeks would emerge, and his nose would scrunch in a way that Cassie always thought made him look even more handsome. 

By the look on Toto’s face as he looked at Cassie, he was overjoyed. 

— Toto — Cassie said, feeling her voice starting to waver and her eyes start to fill with tears — We’re having a girl!

Dr. Reynolds smiled as she continued taking the last of the images she needed.

— Congratulations, mum and dad. I am guessing that was what you were hoping for?

Cassie opened her mouth to respond, but Toto got to it sooner.

— Yes, we discussed it a while ago. Of course, we’d be happy with a healthy baby of either sex, but — Toto turned to look down at Cassie again, the expression on his face so tender and happy that it made Cassie’s insides feel like jelly — I think from the start, both of us imagined having a little girl. And I have three nephews, so… The whole family was hoping for a girl.

Whatever Toto was telling the doctor after that point, Cassie wasn’t sure. She felt like she was floating from then on, even as Dr. Reynolds finished up the remainder of the appointment, gave her some instructions, and sent her to schedule her next ultrasound. 

As she and Toto left the clinic and walked to where they’d each parked their cars in the parking lot, she felt a strange electric frisson between them, no doubt caused by the way he kept a hand tenderly around her lower back as they walked along the sidewalk outside of the clinic, but she knew that it was just him being nice, playing his role as the good partner-but-not. She felt an almost desperate urge to envelop him in a hug, to reach up and kiss him right there, regardless of who would see, but she shoved it down. 

— So, um… Your place, right? — Toto said, as they got to where they’d parked next to each other.

— What? — Cassie said, blinking in surprise.

— I thought we were going to have dinner, and discuss, uh, logistics — Toto said, letting his hand go from Cassie’s lower back as he fumbled in his black cordura briefcase for his car keys. 

— Right. Yes, that’s right — Cassie said, shaking her head in an attempt to regain her wits. 

— Well, then, I’ll follow you — Toto said, smiling as he unlocked the door to his car and climbed in.

The entire drive back her flat was a blur in Cassie’s mind as it raced between dinner plans and baby plans, and by the time she unlocked the door to her flat and let Toto inside, her mind was a swirling mass of pink onesies, plush bunnies, and what to have with the chicken breasts that she left to thaw in the refrigerator for dinner.

In the end, she found some sweet potatoes in her pantry, and had some asparagus and tomatoes that needed to be used. She implored Toto to relax while she prepared dinner, not being used to having to contend with another person in the kitchen while she cooked, but Toto insisted on helping, so he chopped the vegetables while she set to work seasoning and baking the chicken.

Dinner came together quickly, and as they started eating, Toto was the first to cut through the silence.

— So, a little girl. Have you been thinking of any names, or did you want to wait to decide?

Cassie thought for a moment while she took a drink of water. 

— I haven’t given it too much thought, beyond what I told you before, that I didn’t really want to give her a classical name, you know, like my family would want. But it would be nice to give her a name, you know. I’ve just been thinking of it — she hesitated, before correcting herself — Her, I guess, as “the baby”.

— Well — Toto said — I wouldn’t mind giving her a Nordic name, like my family does. That way it would be unique, but not so much that she’s likely to be made fun of in school, or anything.

Cassie giggled.

— You say that like you have experience with that.

Toto rolled his eyes.

— I don’t dislike my name, but Torger isn’t a name that a lot of kids in Vienna come across very regularly. Let’s just say that my nickname was, um… How do you call it… Invented pretty early on in my school days.

— Well, alright. So, what kinds of names does that give us — Cassie said, picking up her phone. She paged through one of the dozens of pastel-colored websites open in her browser tabs that she’d been visiting over the past few weeks, before finding a naming dictionary she had particularly liked looking through — There’s the obvious ones, like Freya, Sif, and Astrid… No, those might have the same problem that your name gave you.

Toto laughed, and Cassie continued. 

— Elsa… No, people will just think we named her after that Disney movie… Edda… That sounds kind of, I don’t know, old lady-ish. Erika? No, I went to school with an Erika, I didn’t care for her. Juni is… That’s cute, I guess…

Toto pulled his chair closer to Cassie’s to look at the list of names with her, and Cassie angled the screen so he could get a better look. 

— Birgit? — Toto said — That’s a nice name, and not uncommon in Austria.

— Isn’t that what Niki Lauda’s wife is named? — Cassie said, turning her head to look at Toto. 

— Yes… And I think it’s a nice name.

— I know, but giving your child the name of someone you know feels odd, don’t you think? Plus, most English people would probably pronounce it incorrectly most of the time. And that leaves out Brigitta and Brigette, too. Asta? That one is nice.

— No, that reminds me of that sparkling wine — Toto said, crinkling his nose a bit — There’s Kirsten, but that one feels almost a bit too ordinary.

— Yes — Cassie sighed — And plus, she’d probably get called Kristen more often than not.

— Oh, what about… Ingrid? — Toto said, pointing at the name on Cassie’s phone screen — That’s a nice name. It’s easy enough in English, it’s a common enough name in German…

Cassie thought for a moment. She had a feeling like something snapped into place, like she had solved a complicated maths problem, or like she’d remembered a word that was on the tip of her tongue.

Almost involuntarily, her hand moved to her belly, cradling the growing swell of her abdomen.

— Ingrid. I like it. Ingrid — she repeated the name, like she was testing it out. She couldn’t help but feel like it was a good fit, that it felt right. 

— Ingrid Aldersey-Wolff — Toto said, a distinct note of pride in his voice.

— No… Just Ingrid Wolff — Cassie said, looking down at her belly. Her voice went quiet — It sounds nice, doesn’t it? We’ll need to come up with a middle name, but…

— You really don’t want her to have your surname too? — Toto asked, delicately.

— No. It wouldn’t feel right giving her something that I don’t even want — Cassie said, giving Toto a serious look. 

Toto pressed his mouth into a thin line, and nodded slightly.

— Ingrid Wolff.

According to the obstetrician, it was a bit too early in the pregnancy for Cassie to start feeling the baby kicking, but she thought she felt a distinct flutter from her belly. It may have been just her imagination, or something akin to nervous butterflies, but it felt like a sign, like the universe had given her at least one of the answers she was looking for. 

— Our little Ingrid — she said, feeling the warmth she’d felt earlier spreading through her body once more.

She and Toto finished eating in a more companionable silence, and Toto cleaned up the dishes once they were finished, at his insistence. After the dishes were in the dishwasher, they sat close together on the couch, scrolling through more parenting websites, discussing whatever came to mind.

— Oh, I forgot to tell you this, but I started this… I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s sort of a visual scrapbook of things that you can save — she said, navigating to a website on her laptop. Toto peered over at the screen, his brow furrowing. She knew that Toto wasn’t tuned in to most social media websites, so she kept her explanation brief — But I made it mostly so we can gather ideas for how we want to decorate the nursery. I know it’s probably not, you know, a priority, but…

— No, I want to see. After all, it will be my daughter’s first bedroom.

Cassie almost couldn’t contain her joy at hearing Toto say the words “my daughter”, and given the smile that spread across Toto’s face near-immediately, it wasn’t easy for him, either.

For the next hour, they looked at pictures of nurseries online, saving the things that appealed to them. Both of them were in agreement about not wanting something stereotypically “girly” with everything in shades of pink.

— I like a minimalist look — Toto said — But…

— I know, I’ve seen your office — Cassie quipped. 

Toto shot her a knowing glance.

— But all of these gray or beige rooms that are supposed to be neutral, they’re awfully depressing for children, no?

— I know, but that’s what it’s fashion these days, from what I gather. But we don’t have to decide anything right now, we still have — Cassie paused, trying to do the mental calculation from the estimated due date that Dr. Reynolds gave them earlier — About 26 weeks before we have to worry about it.

— I know — Toto said, standing up from Cassie’s sofa — 26 weeks until we meet our daughter. Ingrid. Anyway, I think I should head home. Early day tomorrow, as always. And you should get your rest.

Cassie set her laptop on the coffee table, and stood up with him, following after him as he walked to the front door.

— Yes. Ingrid Wolff. Ingrid… And, like you said, we’ll need to think of a middle name.

— We will. We have 26 weeks — Toto said, carefully slipping his shoes on. 

— It will go by quickly though, so I’ve heard — Cassie said, giving Toto a small smile once he stood back up straight.

There was a slight pause before Toto opened his arms, prompting Cassie to step forward into a hug. It was soft and gentle, making Cassie feel the fluttering from deep down in her belly again as Toto pressed a delicate kiss to her forehead before he stepped back slightly.

— Do you mind if I…? — he said, pointing to Cassie’s belly. 

— Go ahead — Cassie said, feeling her face flush — She is… Ingrid is… Is your daughter, after all.

It was surreal seeing Toto bend over slightly and mutter something in German with only the words tochter and Ingrid clear to Cassie as he put his hand on the bump, but not in an unpleasant way, quite the contrary. 

As Toto said goodbye to her again and Cassie went about her bedtime routine, she realized that it was what made the pregnancy finally feel real, and concrete like nothing before had. Not the initial test results, not telling her sister and mother, not the episodes of morning sickness, not even telling Toto when he got back from Barcelona, but the fact that their daughter had a name, like she was already a person and not a hypothetical, not a “little bean” or the other corny euphemisms that the parenting websites used to refer to a baby while it was still in utero. 

The thrill hadn’t dissipated the next morning, either, and with a quick message to Toto to get his — not his approval, but to see if he had any objections — she set out to do something she’d been waiting to do for what felt like ages.

A few hours later, in the marketing team meeting, Victoria, her boss, asked the group if there were any new agenda items to discuss, and Cassie raised her hand.

— I know this isn’t really related to the business, but I have some personal news — she said. She could feel a quaver coming to her voice as she spoke.

— Go ahead — Victoria said, giving her a nod.

— I found out a few weeks ago, but… I’m pregnant.

There was a momentary silence in the room, and Cassie noticed the momentary collective confusion on her colleagues’ faces, until one of her colleagues, Imogen, clapped her hands together and practically squealed with joy.

— Oh, that’s wonderful, Cassie! Congratulations!

What followed seemed to be an avalanche of well-wishes and questions in equal measure.

— When are you due? — one of her other coworkers asked. 

— Have you found out the sex yet?

— I didn’t even know you were trying, that’s amazing — another said.

Cassie thought her colleagues looked a bit skeptical, and perhaps it was just her imagination. She certainly didn’t want to reveal the whole truth about the baby and her parentage, not when nobody else on the team knew about it, and her mind automatically slotted onto the story that she’d given her mother and sister a few weeks ago.

— Well, I met this guy named, er, Christian. He works in finance, and we met a few years ago… A friend set us up, and we fell in love… And we’ve both always wanted children, so we decided to start trying for a baby. We just found out yesterday that we’re having a little girl. 

— That’s wonderful, Cassie — Victoria said, beaming at her.

— When you said Christian, I was afraid you were going to follow it with ‘Horner’ for a moment — Dan, one of the content writers, said, which prompted a ripple of chuckles around the room, and a scowl from Victoria. 

Cassie laughed nervously, knowing that he wasn’t categorically wrong about the father of her baby being a team principal. 

— God, could you imagine? — she said, trying to play off her nerves — That would be a nightmare.

[buckybarnesthehotshot]

Picture Perfect (Carlos Sainz x Childhood Friend!Reader)

|ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ|

summary: in which these blind idiots celebrate each other’s successes 

word count: 4710

warnings: not proofread, swearing, a bit of slowburn, i don’t know how cameras work

        “Chico!” the young h/c-haired girl rushed to her friend after the podium ceremony held for him winning the karting race. Their bodies collided, the boy barely able to keep himself uprights, as she wrapped an arm around him, holding out the other one and pulling out a pocket-sized Sony camera covered in stickers, “Smile!” 

        “Can I see the picture?” the boy questioned eagerly as the girl smiled proudly, displaying the slightly blurry image she’d taken of them both. Neither of them were in the center of the frame, nor did the lighting or angle flatter either of them. But to the young boy, any photo taken by his best friend was a masterpiece, “I love it!” 

        “You know, maybe I can take pictures of you after all your races too!” 

        “Of course, chica!” he exclaimed excitedly, looking forward to her constant presence in his races.  Nothing was more exciting for a young child than the prospect of his best friend frequenting karting races despite knowing only a little about the sport. 

        The girl kept her word, she was there for nearly every race he had as they grew older, camera always at the ready. And for whatever reason, the boy kept that photo of them as his phone’s wallpaper as he grew older as well as he checked the time on his phone; they didn’t have much time before they needed to catch their flight. 

        “Now I regret going shopping,” she laughed, trying her best to hang onto all of her bags. 

        “Do you need help with that?” he questioned, motioning to the paper bags—she refused to throw them out, they were too beautiful to end up in the garbage—swinging on her arms. 

        “Please,” she nodded, handing a few of the bags over to Carlos. Her brows furrowed thoughtfully. Carlos knew that look. She took the camera that hung around her neck, far larger than the one she owned as a child, angling the lens at him and snapping a quick photo, “You look adorable right now.” 

        Heat rose to Carlos’ cheeks at the compliment. He’d grown used to the constant compliments from the woman as she took his photos, it had become a constant. It was how she took pride in her work, he couldn’t blame her for it. He smiled, shaking his head as he led them both into the car the team loaned him, driving them to the airport after the Mexican Grand Prix.  

        “Do you have plans between these races?” y/n questioned, fiddling with a few settings of her camera as she snapped a few photos of her views outside. Though it was difficult with how fast the car was going, she didn’t mind it one bit. Said it was great practice for when she was trying to capture photos of him driving on the track. 

        “Ah, just a bit more golf,” Carlos shrugged as y/n giggled, shaking her head. He craned his neck over to her, pausing, “What’s funny about that?” 

        “I don’t know, I mean I’m constantly taking pictures of you guys when you go out golfing,” she shrugged, she didn’t mind having to take photos of him, though, “If it’s not F1 or training, it’s golfing. Don’t you think your fans want to see something new for once?” 

        “Like what?” he questioned, nose crinkling up at the thought of spending his off time doing something performative for the fans. 

        “Like attending your best friend’s next exhibition,” she shrugged as Carlos smiled widely, looking over to her as the car stopped in front of the traffic light, a lovely bright glint in his brown eyes, shining brightly under the light of the sun shining through the windshield. 

        “You got another exhibition?” 

        “Of course, I did. Traveling as much as we do really helped rack up content for another exhibition,” she shrugged, though smiling proudly at her achievement, “I made sure it was between Mexico and Brazil so there weren’t any scheduling conflicts. Though, if you want to play golf still, you’re allowed to.” 

        “Are you kidding? Why would I miss one of your exhibitions?” Carlos quirked a brow at her. Just as she’d never missed a single one of Carlos’ races, the Spaniard had never missed a single one of y/n’s photography exhibitions. It was all they did since they were young, supporting each other’s ambitions and being there for their milestones, “You know, I think Lando might want to go as well?” 

        “Lando?”

        “Yeah, I mean, he’s been getting into photography since Singapore and he’s constantly talking about how he’s running out of ideas for photos,” Carlos shrugged, recalling the way the younger driver walked around the paddock excitedly with his camera, “Maybe he can take inspiration from your exhibit.”

        “Oh, I’ll be sure to send him an invite, then,” she smiled widely with a nod.

        “When’s the exhibition?” 

        “Friday night,” she shrugged.

        “So soon?” he questioned. Of course, they didn’t have much time between the races, but he didn’t think she would have managed to help set up the exhibition while she was out traveling with him. Though, he knew she was a diligent woman. She must have found a way around it. 

        “Well, yeah. We’re going to have to be in Brazil by next Friday. It was the only available window, really.” 

        “And this is a sure thing already? You got it all ready while you were away?” 

        “Of course. It’s been months since my last one,” she shrugged. 

        “Wasn’t there that thing in the US around the time of the Miami Grand Prix?” he recalled how she was constantly about prior to the race weekend, busying herself with as many projects as she could accomplish in the States. 

        “No, those were just a few magazine shoots and photos for the MET,” she shook her head, “It’s just been constant magazine and promotional shoots since my last exhibit. I thought an exhibition would have been great to show off and hopefully sell a few of the newer pieces I’ve worked on.”

        “Right,” Carlos nodded in understanding, already looking forward to it, “Is the space for your exhibit ready?” 

        “Yes, and I’ve already got the prints ready to be framed,” she paused, “That reminds me, there’s one photo of you that I want to use in the exhibit, but I need your consent.” 

        “Me?” 

        “Of course,” she rolled her eyes as though it were the most obvious statement, “My best work always seems to revolve around you.” 

        “Depends, does it look bad?” 

        “When have I ever taken a bad photo of you?” she quirked a brow at him as his gaze danced over to his phone’s screen. She scoffed, “If that was a bad photo, you wouldn’t have kept it as your wallpaper.” 

        “But which photo is it?” Carlos questioned, though he doubted he’d be able to remember with how often she pulled her camera out to steal a few photos of him as well. 

        “That’s going to have to be my secret,” y/n shrugged, “Besides, when have I ever done you dirty with my photos?” 

        “That party in Monaco?”

        “Those pictures did me dirty too, Carlos,” she laughed, biting her lip at the memory of those hazy photos, reminiscent of the way she took photos when she was younger, but with more alcohol, “They’re never seeing the light of day.” 

        “What happened to those pictures? Did you delete them?” 

        “No, I have them stashed somewhere in case you forget to pay me for taking your photos over a race weekend,” she quipped. 

        “I was meant to pay you?” 

        “Yeah!” she exclaimed jokingly, “If those photos end up on TMZ, you only have yourself to blame.” 

        “Wait, is that a serious thing or are you still joking?” he questioned. He could never really tell with her. Photography was both her passion and her livelihood and if he was meant to be paying her, he felt bad about not giving her the proper compensation for it.

        “Of course, I was joking,” she shook her head, smiling as she rest her head against his shoulder, “Besides, you’re the one paying for the hotel and food. That’s more than enough for me.”

        “You promise?” 

        “I mean, I could really go for a free airport coffee when we get there,” she shrugged. 

        “Consider it done,” Carlos nodded, continuing on with the drive. 

        As they, along with Carlos’ cousin they met up with at the airport, were the only people who had to board the jet, they didn’t need to wait long before they were up in the clouds on their way back to Spain. 

        “Do you have anything planned before Friday?” she questioned, turning to Carlos, “Because if you need photos for your social media, I might have to sit this out.”

        “To work out the last touches to your exhibition, yes?” 

        “Yep,” she nodded.

        “Maybe I can go with you?” he offered, a small smile making its way to his face at the idea. 

        “You really don’t have to,” she shook her head. This was his time off from driving,she didn’t want him to spend it helping her out with the exhibit, “Besides, maybe you can use this time to rest a bit after all those races.” 

        “No, but I want to see the process of you forming an exhibit too,” he shrugged, “Besides, I think it might even be nice to have an episode of Don’t Blink for it.” 

        “I don’t think that’s what your fans are going to want to see, though.” 

        “No, I put what I want to on YouTube,” he insisted, “Besides, you’ve done so much for the channel too already. It’s time we dedicate an episode to you, yes?” 

        “No,” y/n shook her head, “But sure, if you figure out how to work your camera for this session, you’re more than welcome to do so.” 

        “I mean, it can’t be that hard if I have you teaching me,” he smiled in an attempt to suck up to her, “I mean it’s a long flight. We have a lot of time, still.” 

        “Yeah, okay,” she nodded, plucking the camera out from her backpack, a more portable film camera with a microphone attached to it, “It’s fairly easy. There’s this red button you just press, and when the light’s on, it means it’s recording. This screen over here is adjustable too so you could see yourself if you want to record yourself.”

        “You know, I think I’m figuring this out pretty well,” Carlos smiled proudly as he brought both he and y/n into the frame, “Hello!” 

        “Look at you, a golfer, F1 driver, and a videographer too,” she let out a smile as she waved into the camera, “Hi, everyone!” 

        “Maybe I can put this in the vlog too?” he laughed. 

        “Like an intro?” she questioned, pausing before giving a nod, “Yeah, that would be an interesting intro, I guess.” 

        “Do you think I can borrow this camera for a while when we land? Just so I can practice using it a bit more?” Carlos questioned as y/n shrugged. It wasn’t as though she had any need for a video camera outside of the work she did with Carlos for his YouTube series. 

        “Go ahead,” she smiled at him, leaning into her chair as he watched him tinker with the camera, recording random clips of random things, the camera eventually being pointed back at her as she smiled at the child-like wonder in Carlos eyes as he did so. She pulled out her camera, capturing a photo of him recording her, letting out a laugh, “You look like you’re having so much fun, I love it.” 

        “You know, this is actually kind of fun. No wonder Lando’s doing this now too,” he smiled in wonder, pointing the camera back at himself and making faces at the camera. 

        The flight was a long one and eventually, everyone fell asleep before touching down at the airport, Carlos being the first to wake up and shaking y/n awake gently, “We landed.” 

        “Oh, that’s cool,” she yawned, still hazy from her sleep.

        “Need another overpriced airport coffee?”

        “More like another overpriced airport breakfast,” she smiled, helping herself off the seat and stretching out her limbs before picking her bags up. 

        “Let’s get breakfast before I drop you off, then?” he offered.

        “You’re dropping me off too?” 

        “When did I not?” he quirked a brow at her. In their time traveling together for Formula 1, Carlos has managed to consistently keep himself in the driver’s seat when it came to them driving back home from the airport. 

        With them both too tired to have to physically enter a restaurant and dine there, the pair opted to go through a drive-thru, Carlos handing y/n over the paper bag before driving over to her apartment complex. 

        “You’re going to sort some things out for the exhibit too tomorrow, yes?” 

        “Yeah,” she nodded.

        “Should I pick you up too? It will be easier for me to help with the exhibit too and get some footage if we just go together.” 

        “If that’s what you want to do,” she smiled, fighting off the heat that rose to her cheeks, “I’ll see you tomorrow at 8?” 

        Of course,” Carlos nodded, watching as she made her way off the car and into her apartment building, waving at him before he drove back to his own home. 

        y/n spent the rest of the day making calls and such to check on what else she needed to work on when she arrived to the exhibit tomorrow. Carlos, on the other hand, had been figuring out what else it was he could do on the camera. 

        The next morning, she got dressed in something more comfortable for her to move around in as Carlos texted her that he was on his way to her apartment already. She smiled, heading down to the lobby just in time for Carlos to fetch her in his pride and joy—his Golf car. 

        “Hop on in!” he invited her, camera already up and pointed at her. 

        “Should you be driving and recording?” she quirked a brow at him. 

        “Actually, I tried to keep it on the dashboard, but it kept falling off,” Carlos stated with a laugh, “So I tried to hold on to it this whole time while steering, and it ended up with a few clips of my hand while it was on the wheel.” 

        “Can I check to see the footage?” she questioned as Carlos nodded, handing the camera over to her as she scrubbed through the recording, finding the shot Carlos was talking about, breaking out into a fit of laughter, “Carlos, that clip was chaos.”

        “What do you mean?”

        “Well, the camera was shaking while you were steering, and not to mention the fact that absolutely nothing was in focus,” she explained with a laugh as Carlos smiled over at her amusement. 

        “This is why you’re the photographer between us and I’m just the driver,” he chuckled, “Now, where do we go?”

        y/n’s exhibit was to be held at a grand gallery she often worked with. On occasion, she even sold them a few of her works as well. Carlos was familiar with the gallery; he was there for every exhibit of hers, anyway. 

        He followed her around as she was greeted by the staff, all of them elegantly dressed in black clothes, preparing to walk them through the gallery. 

        “These are the frames you requested, yes?” the attendant questioned, motioning to a few of the framed pictures already hung up on the wall. Carlos stared at them in wonder, most of the photos being ones of familiar sights to him, places they saw while out on the road. He didn’t have a clue about how it was possible, but she managed to bring more beauty to all those places. 

        “Oh, yeah, definitely,” she nodded, letting out a smile at how everything turned out. 

        “Right, and we hear you’ve set a price for all of the photos except for one? Should we get that sorted out?” 

        “Not for sale,” she shook her head, knowing exactly which photo they meant, “But yeah, I see the pegs are all placed nicely, the plaques as well look great. Do we have the food service sorted out already?” 

        “You wanted a mix of appetizers from different countries, yes?”

        “Mhm,” y/n nodded, pleased at this, “The invites were sent out already too?” 

        “Yes, there will be plenty of prominent people in attendance,” the attendant nodded as y/n found herself immersed in a conversation with the attendant, discussing everything else there was to be discussed, allowing Carlos to wander the unfinished exhibit. After all these years, he was always in a state of wonder with how well y/n did with the camera. 

        “What do you think?” she questioned, biting her lip as she eagerly awaited a verdict from the man.

        “I think I want to buy this entire exhibit,” he admitted with a small smile. 

        “You’ve got more than enough photos in your apartment,” she shook her head, recalling how she offered Carlos a photo from every exhibition she’d ever had, the frames covering his apartment as well. 

        “Well, you’re just that good,” he shrugged, eyes not leaving the photograph, giving y/n another opportunity to snap a photo of him. 

        “It’s unfair how you always look so good,” she shook her head, reviewing the photo of him on her camera and smiling, “Anyways, everything’s pretty much set. I can do everything else online again before getting a final look at everything before the exhibit opens.”

        “I mean it’s practically perfect already,” he shrugged, “Where’s that photo of me you said you were going to use?” 

        “Told you, it’s going to have to be a surprise,” she smirked proudly, as they made their way out the gallery, “Have you talked to Lando yet about whether or not he was going?”

        “Oh, right,” Carlos nodded, “He said he was going to be there, and Daniel as well? He mentioned something about how Daniel wanted to get into photography too.” 

        “That’s fun,” she nodded at the thought of the McLaren drivers coming to the gallery as well, “Let’s just hope people don’t find out there are going to be three Formula 1 drivers in attendance.”

        “I can wear a disguise, if you want,” he quipped as she laughed at the thought. 

        “And what would that even look like?” she quirked a brow at the idea, already trying to formulate what kind of disguise Carlos could come up with. 

        “I don’t know, maybe a fake mustache?” 

        “I’d want to see that, actually,” she laughed, “Maybe you should grow one when the season ends, just so I know what it would look like.” 

        “Then you’d take another one of your pictures?”

        “You know it,” she winked proudly as they made their way back into the car, Carlos dropping her off at her apartment to let her continue on with whatever she needed to get to. 

        The day before the exhibit, Carlos dropped y/n off again, but with her telling him to stay in the car. With how the gallery was practically finished at that point, he assumed it was because she would have wanted the rest of the gallery to be a surprise. 

        On opening night, though, both he and y/n were dressed in their best attire. He thought it appropriate to fetch her in a beautiful Ferrari car. Something special for that special night. 

        He didn’t know many of the people in attendance, but he knew most of them came from wealth. Seeing them take appreciation for y/n’s pieces, it was amazing to him. 

        “Before we do anything else, I want to show you something,” she explained, pulling him to a big framed photo of him, British Grand Prix trophy in hand. It was one taken in his Driver room, Carlos was far too engrossed in taking in every detail of the trophy to notice that y/n had snapped a photo of him. 

        The pair remained there for a moment, y/n watching Carlos’ expression as he continued to scan the photograph. 

        Soon enough, both Lando and Daniel arrived, their faces lighting up at the sight of y/n and Carlos. 

        “Nice place you got here,” Daniel quipped, taking in his surroundings. 

        “You took all of these?” Lando questioned, eyes growing wide with amazement at the framed photos. 

        “Yeah, while we were out on the road,” y/n shrugged. 

        “You know, maybe I should have talked to you first before I got into this photography thing,” he laughed, still amazed with everything, “Oh, and this is a picture of Carlos!” 

        “Yeah, took it after his first Grand Prix win,” she smiled proudly. At this point, both Carlos and Daniel had begun to wander around too. 

        “How’d you get this picture to look so good?” Lando questioned. Not that many photos in the driver rooms looked as great as the way this one turned out, “Come to think of it, you’ve never taken a bad picture of Carlos for his Instagram either!” 

        “I try to capture with the lens the way I see him,” she explained with a wistful smile, e/c eyes scanning over the picture once more. 

        “What does this mean?” Lando questioned, motioning over to the plaque beneath the picture, “Mi Hogar?” 

        “It means home,” she shrugged. Lando gave her a look, smiling widely at her as she backtracked, bringing herself back down to Earth, “It also helps that he always has great hair.” 

        Home was where the heart is and her home was Carlos. She knew that when she decided to travel with him. 

        Before she and Lando could talk more, y/n was approached by another person at the gallery. 

        “You know, when I asked the attendants for the price on this, they said there was no data on it,” the man explained looking over to y/n and motioning to the picture of Carlos, “So, what’s the price?” 

        “Not for sale,” y/n shook her head immediately. 

        “I can offer you—” 

        “Not for sale,” she insisted again, “You’re free to purchase any other picture in the exhibition, just not this one, my apologies.” 

        “You’re not selling it?” 

        “It feels weird to sell a picture of my best friend,” she shrugged, “I was planning on giving it to Carlos too afterwards.” 

        “Seriously, though. Everything here is unreal,” Lando nodded towards every other picture in the gallery, “You’re amazing!”

        “Thanks,” she nodded, “Enjoy the rest of the night, I’m going to go find Carlos now.” 

        The rest of the night went off without a hitch. She was informed that quite a lot of the photographs were sold as well. She gave a few words of thanks to everyone before heading back home with Carlos after that exhausting night. 

        She smiled as she scrolled through social media, having been tagged in a few posts. Smiling at a photo on lando.jpg of both her and Carlos staring up at the picture of Carlos. He must have taken it before he and Daniel came to greet them. 

        Then it was back to business for them as usual with y/n flying out with Carlos to the States to take photos of him and record him as he played golf. She then flew out with him to Brazil for the next Grand Prix. As it was the second to the last race of the season, y/n found herself busying herself with creating content. 

        “How’d you know you wanted to be with Charlotte?” Carlos found himself questioning Charles as they prepared for the upcoming practice session.

        “We were friends. Spent a lot of time together too,” Charles shrugged, “At some point, I realized I didn’t want to leave for races anymore. Not without her, mate.” 

        “Oh,” Carlos paused, “Oh!” 

        It was only at that moment that it finally hit him. The only thing he could do was to rush for his laptop and hurry along with finishing up what he was starting with. Some time in the night, he finished. And his immediate idea was to send her a message, asking her to head over to his hotel room. 

        “You know, it’s a bit late for you to ask to hang out,” y/n laughed.

        “Knew you would have been awake anyway,” he shrugged, “But I uh, I finished editing the episode.” 

        “You edited it yourself?”

        “No, I had an editor work on most of it,” he chuckled awkwardly, “I added a few things in it I want you to see, though.” 

        The video started with a clip of them on the plane, just as the pair had discussed. It was only then she realized that he’d looked at her with such brightness in his brown eyes. Had she noticed then, maybe she would have taken a photo of him as well. 

        Rather than a usual montage of clips taken at an event, she took note of how the intro consisted of different photographs of both she and Carlos over the years, some taken by her, some taken by other people. A few of the photos were taken by photographers in the paddock, some of these being the more recent ones. 

        It brought a smile to her face, the way Carlos took the time to collect these pictures of them. 

        Then the video cut to a clip of Carlos in the car, wearing the same clothes he’d worn prior to fetching her for their first visit to the gallery. 

        “y/n, you’re probably only going to see this when the video goes up,” he started off, smiling into the camera, “But I want to tell you I’m so so proud of you, I mean, another exhibit! And also, I want to say thank you for still being by my side after all your successes and traveling with me.” 

        “Anyways, I’m really happy to see you doing what you love to do all the time. It brings a smile to my face, honestly,” he smiled, “I’m happy to see you so in your element every time. Thank you in advance…well, delay? For letting me be part of this special event.” 

        “You’re making me tear up,” she smiled, eyes going red as she wiped a tear from her eyes at the sweet tribute. 

        The video went along to play a series of clips Carlos took throughout the week alluding to the exhibition, Carlos constantly shown smiling in wonder as he looked around at the framed photos. 

        She thought the video would have ended with the clip of them, both tired in his Ferrari after the night of the exhibit. 

        To her surprise, it was followed up by a clip of Carlos in his driver room, perhaps shot previously just between the practice session. 

        “y/n, hi,” he mumbled, “I wanted to get you to see this as soon as possible, but I really do want to talk for a moment about how, after all these years, I’m so so thankful to have you in my life, and I was very happy to celebrate another exhibit with you. Also, I’m thankful to have you celebrating with me and being there for me after races.” 

        Carlos took a deep breath, “I want to have you in my life for so much longer. But I don’t want you in my life as just my friend. y/n, I’m so sorry it took me so long to realize this, but I want to be there for every high and every low. I want to be there for you and the man you love. I love you, y/n l/n.” 

        And then the video cut out. y/n looked over to Carlos, her jaw hanging open widely as she brought her hands to her mouth, “Carlos, do you mean it?” 

        “I love you, y/n,” he admitted, his brown eyes piercing into hers, an apprehensive look on his face. They were both silent for a moment before the click of a camera echoed through the room. 

        “I love the way you look when you say that,” she admitted bashfully, a sure smile on her face, “And I love you, Carlos Sainz.” 

F1 TAGS: @errrrrat / @ricsaigaslec / @veronicapaula / @buendiabebeta​ / @abditory-77​ @navia3000​ (OPEN)

CS55 TAGS: (OPEN)

[agent-cupcake]

Crybaby

Pairing: Sylvain Jose Gautier x f!Reader

Synopsis: Sylvain likes making you cry, that's the plot.

Warnings: explicit smut, dub/noncon

Tags: dacryphilia, rough sex, dirty talk, slight infantilization

Word Count: 4.8k

Notes: This was a short little doodle that popped into my head while I was trying to sleep and then, and then, and then. I'm not sure I'll ever post the things I've been trying to work on but whatever, here's some good ole fashioned nastiness. Also trying to find good photos of Sylvain to use as a banner quickly got annoying so I gave up.

Pathetic, stupid girl. That’s all you were, and it was all you could think as you found yourself back in the same place you always went. Hiding from everybody else. Crying all alone because you couldn’t contain your emotions like a normal person. Running away. But even if it was juvenile and misguided and stupid, what else were you supposed to do? Quickly excusing yourself seemed a better alternative than letting everybody see a grown woman crying at her own party. Over the cruel antics of an infamously womanizing man, no less. 

Dabbing at your eyes, you tried to regain your composure. It shouldn’t have bothered you so much. You shouldn’t have let him get to you. He was mean, and cruel, and you were only giving him what he wanted by reacting like this.

You needed to go back to the party, to smile, and prove that you weren’t affected in the least. Stop being such a pathetic crybaby. Grow up. 

“Oh, there you are,” Sylvain said, his voice startling you out of your slump against the wall, all of the hairs on the back of your neck standing straight up and heart set to racing. 

How had he found you? Of all the hiding spots you had, this was your favorite for escaping from parties. It was your secret, your little alcove, an out-of-the way corner far away from the noise. He didn’t belong here. 

“Sylvain,” you acknowledged, unable to say anything else, your eyes darting behind him to your only possible escape. In your state, you had effectively cornered yourself. All alone with Sylvain. Again. 

“I was wondering where you ran off to. We all got worried when you ran off so fast.” He spoke as if he was relieved to find you. As if he hadn’t tracked you down on purpose. As if he were utterly ignorant to why you had run in the first place. 

“I don’t wanna talk to you,” you said, refusing to look him in the face directly because then he’d see your red cheeks, he’d see the tears clinging to your eyelashes and he already knew but you didn’t want to give him the pleasure of seeing it too. Hopefully the shadows covered the most damning evidence, although you weren’t sure it mattered. 

“I owe you an apology,” he said.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” you said louder, glaring hard at his boots. 

“I know,” he said, raising his hands and eyebrows in innocence. So amiable, so approachable. So believable. “We don't have to talk, but I need you to know that I was just joking around earlier.”

“It’s fine,” you said curtly, desperate to refuse him any other reaction, hoping he’d get bored and leave it alone.

“I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“I’m not,” you told him, although the increasingly shrill tone in your voice said otherwise. You hated yourself for it, hated Sylvain for making you so upset. Hated the whole ugly, awful situation. 

“I didn’t mean to make you cry.”  

The handle you had on your emotions had been weak to begin with, but that finally set you off, the horrible cruelty sending a rush of overwhelming, despairing dizziness right up to your head. “Yes you did!” you exclaimed, unable to hold your tongue even though you knew you should have. 

“No, I hate seeing you cry,” he said, acting surprised by your accusation. Then he shrugged, dark eyes narrowing a little. “It’s not my fault you’re so sensitive.”    

"I’m not!” you told him, unable to quell the flare up of helpless indignance. “It’s you. I don’t understand why you’re so mean to me. I never… I don’t understand.” 

Although you weren’t sure why, that had been the exactly wrong thing to say. You could tell by the set of his shoulders, by the shift in his expression. If it were a play, you had just given him his cue.

“You didn’t seem to think I was being mean the other night,” Sylvain said. “Or the night before that. Actually, if I remember correctly, you seemed like you were having a good time.”

A furious flush crawled over your face, hot enough to leave you lightheaded, blazing with shame and disgust and regret. “No. That wasn’t….” 

“Wasn’t… what? Your fault?” Sylvain asked, his eyebrow raising slightly. “Right. Nothing is ever your fault. Not as long as you flash everybody those big doe eyes and act like you're a victim.”

“That’s not it,” you said, but there was no strength to your words. Not out of a lack of conviction, but because if you spoke any louder you’d definitely cry. "I…"

He waited, but there was nothing else you could think of to say. 

“You really have no idea what else to do, do you? Well, everybody else might believe it, but I don’t.”

“I don’t care what you…” You shook your head, trying to regain even a shred of composure. “I don’t care. You're a… a…” 

“What?” Sylvain prompted. “What am I?” 

“A bully!” you exclaimed suddenly, loudly, hands balled into ineffectual fists at your sides.

“Really? I’m a… bully?” he asked incredulously. “Seriously? I swear, you’re such a kid sometimes.”

Your eyes burned with fresh tears. Tears of anger, of humiliation, of exhaustion. “Just stop. Leave me alone.” 

“Stop what?” Sylvain asked. “I came to apologize. You’re the one making such a big deal out of it.” 

“I’m not!” 

“You are. Just like earlier, all I was doing was playing around but then you had to go and make me look like the bad guy.” He hesitated, taking a step closer. “Hold on, are you gonna cry?” 

Your chin wobbled, your throat swelling up, your hands shaking. “No.” 

“Go on,” Sylvain invited. “Prove my point. You want me to feel sorry for you, right? You want me to fawn over you like everybody else.”  

“I don’t!”

“You don’t?” he asked, feigning surprise. He waved it off a second later, smiling like it had been a joke. “Ah, don’t give me that look. I get it. It’s all about the attention.” 

“I don’t want attention,” you insisted, the burning getting worse. Burning your cheeks, like embers behind your eyes. 

Sylvain rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you do. And you wanna know how I know?”

“No, I’m… I’m done. I’m going back,” you said rather than answer, holding your head high with a brittle sort of strength. You would walk past him, and it would be fine. You didn’t need to be scared. Last time—no, this wouldn’t be like last time. If you set boundaries, if you were firm, it would be okay. Holding your breath, you began to scurry past him, your entire body tense enough to snap. 

“Wait, hold on,” Sylvain said, grabbing you around the waist when you were close enough. You protested with a yelp, trying to escape his grasp, desperate to get away. Because that worked so well before. 

“I’ll scream,” you told him, pushing at his hands, your heart beating so fast you worried he could hear it too.

“No you won’t,” he said with an easy-going sort of exasperation, crowding you further into the corner before letting you go. He wasn’t physically restraining you, but you were just as trapped. Between a rock and a hard place. “Just calm down, okay?”

You sniffed, trying to compose yourself. He was right. If you screamed and somebody came, what would they think? What would Sylvain tell them? 

“Right… What was I saying?” he asked. “Oh, yeah. The reason I know you want attention is because even though you know I’m no good, even though you cry about how much of a bully I am, as soon as I made a move on you, you were more than happy to go along with it.” He smiled, teeth glinting in the low light as he shook his head. “For most girls, the Crest and title is enough, but you’re way more simple than that. You know, it’s pretty pathetic.” 

“No,” you told him, shaking your head desperately to reject his words. It wasn’t true. It wasn’t. “I-I want to go back.”

“Stop being such a baby,” he teased, reaching out to ruffle your hair. You flinched, slapping his hand away. That made Sylvain freeze, his smile dropping. Instead he braced his arm on the wall behind you, your chests nearly touching with each of your frantic breaths. “Fine, fine. If you tell me to stop and mean it, I’ll stop.” 

“Stop!” 

“That’s the best you got?” he asked with an incredulous little laugh. He was close enough that you could feel the puff of air, smell the wine on his breath. “Really?” 

“Sylvain, stop!”

“That was even worse.”

“Please, stop,” you begged, breaking down now because he wouldn't listen anyway, no matter how you said it. It was all just make-believe to trick you into doing exactly what he wanted. Foreplay. And you knew that, so where was the steel in your voice? 

“This is your problem. Nobody’s ever gonna take you seriously when all you can do is whine at them.”

“I’m not whining!” 

He didn’t even have to respond to that, the raised eyebrow and nonplussed set of his mouth said more than enough. 

“I’m not,” you told him again, your voice weaker. 

Sylvain rolled his eyes. “Hey, don’t worry. It’s cute.” 

The compliment had you frantically trying to think of an escape. Knowing that it was doomed. This was all heading in an obvious direction, it probably had been his intention from the second he chased you away and you just played along, never smart enough to catch wise to his plots. 

“When you pout like that, I guess I do feel a little sorry for you,” he said. “I know what’ll make it better.” 

He cupped your chin to raise your head up. Gently, at first. When you tried to pull his arm away, those fingers dug into your jaw and cheeks, holding you in place.

“We have to… go back…” you said. “Otherwise people are gonna…”

“Talk? Yeah, I’m sure they will.” 

Sylvain kissed you before you could respond. Your mouth was open for his, and it didn’t matter if that was intentional or not, only that his tongue tasted like wine and it was really setting in that there was nothing you could do to stop this. He kissed like a romantic, his other hand dropping to cradle your head, holding you in a way you were sure had convinced dozens of girls of his affection and passion. 

That’s how he had been the other night too, trailing hot kisses down your body while you trembled, burying his head between your thighs until you were too wrought with pleasure to do anything other than let it happen, believing him when he told you how beautiful you were, how much he cared about you. 

Lies.

“Please, Sylvain,” you said, breaking the kiss enough to breathe. “I don’t want to.” 

“Don’t want to… what?” he asked softly, nudging your chin upward. 

You stared at his chest with blurry vision, refusing to meet his eyes. “I don’t want to… to do… anything.”

He laughed, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, let’s be honest, you never do anything. I don’t really care. The whole pillow princess thing suits you. So just relax and let me take care of it. You’re getting pretty good at that.”  

“No—nn-” Sylvain cut off your objection, grabbing a handful of your skirt to pull it up. Not all the way, just enough to get his other hand beneath the bunch of fabric. Your body bucked in an attempt to displace him, your thighs clenching, but a hard knee between your legs kept them open enough that he could rub against you over the barrier of your panties. 

“You look so confused whenever I touch you,” Sylvain said. “Before you start acting like you don’t want it, at least.” 

“I don’t!” You insisted, pushing at his arm. Sylvain didn’t budge, grabbing one of your wrists and pinning it to the wall. His other hand turned so his fingers could curl, wedging silky fabric between your pussy’s outer lips to drag forward, stopping when you unintentionally jerked in response to the pressure on your clit. You weren’t turned on, but you knew that was going to change if he started rubbing your clit the way he had last time, drawing blood between your legs to meet the demand of stimulation. Even if it was a completely physical, uncontrollable reaction, he would take it as proof that he was right.    

“I couldn’t figure out why at first, but I think I got it now.” 

You shook your head, barely able to follow along with his words as he continued touching you, grinding against your clit with those dirty little circles. If anything, the extra friction of your panties made it better. 

No. Not better. Not good. 

“You can’t believe that you’re not getting your way just by crying and whining,” Sylvain continued, uncaring that you weren’t really listening. “Because the princess always gets her way, doesn’t she?”

A soft whimper left your mouth, your head shaking in tight little motions to deny his accusation. “No,” you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut to delay the tears that were finally welling up, retracing the salty tracks from before. 

Sylvain laughed breathlessly, delighted. “You’re such a crybaby. I know you love it. You can’t get enough of me. That’s why you’re acting like this. You have no idea how to get somebody’s attention without throwing a fit.”

More tears slid down your face even as your body writhed against his, that tight ball of need building up beneath his relentless touch. Sylvain caught the tears with his lips before kissing you again, groaning in response to your nearly inaudible whine at the taste. Your pussy tightened, the muscles clenching around the hollow ache of nothingness, of need. The memory of his fingers, of his cock, made the absence that much more noticeable, a desire you only knew because of Sylvain.   

His tongue explored your mouth while you anxiously lagged behind, unable to meet his intensity as your body teetered ever closer to the crest of pleasure, all you could do was try to hold on, to keep your eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to block it all out. 

Suddenly, Sylvain pulled away. The loss of pressure on your clit made your eyes snap open, your hips jumping forward. He obviously noticed the reaction, his lips red and wet, his eyes alight. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not about to leave you high and dry,” he said, pushing your panties down enough to make room for his hand. 

“I do—oh-” Was your wonderfully eloquent response when he pressed two fingers into you. Longer, thicker, more insistent than your own. You trembled and gasped and moaned, your pussy sucking his fingers deeper, your hips bucking against him. You squeezed your eyes shut again, not wanting to see whatever expression Sylvain was wearing when he started laughing, his fingers scissoring and teasingly thrusting, dragging against your walls in a way that had you squirming helplessly. 

“With as much as you cry, I wouldn’t think you could get so wet,” he told you. “Guess you just want it that bad, huh?”

You gasped, squirmed, your fingers tightening in the front of his shirt, your other arm uselessly fighting against his grip. "No," you said weakly, trying not to make any noises he might take as affirmation. 

“Use your big girl words. Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you hate it when I finger you. Tell me you hate it when I make you come.” 

“You’re… you’re wr-ah—” Your objection cut off with a sharp gasp, your body jerking in response to a particular curl of his fingers which must have been what he was waiting for because of the horribly sharp smirk he was wearing when your panicked eyes opened and met his.

“You know, now that I think about it, you really can’t do anything like a real adult. Throwing fits, running away when you get your feelings hurt… Even when we're fucking, all you can do is whine and cry and beg for me to take care of you.” 

Sylvain got you to prove his point without trying, curling his fingers, pushing them deep enough to fill that anxious ache of need, making you gasp and tremble, holding onto him even tighter for stability. 

“If you didn’t have somebody taking care of you at all times,” he told you, his voice a little lower, a little more mean, “you’d be completely helpless.” 

“No.”

“Can you even make yourself come? Have you tried?”

“Ss-stop.” 

“I bet you haven’t. Why would you when you’ve got me around to do it for you? You’re so spoiled. Fuck, it’s a good thing you’re cute.” 

The praise, his fingers, the way his palm ground against your clit with each pass, you tried to ignore it, to shut everything out, but you couldn’t. Tears dripped down your cheeks and you moaned for him, your pussy squeezing his fingers as the feverish build of pleasure threatened to snap. “I… I can’t…”

“You think? ‘Cause I think you can.”

“No, I can’t,” you said—you whined.  

It didn’t matter. A few thrusts more was all it took and you did, trembling and gasping and crying as you came, hitting your head against the hard wall when your body arched against him. The pain did nothing to distract you from the swell and burst of pleasure, the heat spreading out and fizzing like champagne bubbles in your core, all the way to your flushed cheeks and open mouth. Sylvain didn’t stop, didn’t slow down, dragging it out until you were writhing for another reason entirely. 

“Sss-sto-stop!” you said, pushing him away. 

“Why? Did you come?” he asked, feigning ignorance. “I thought you couldn’t.” 

“Stop,” you begged again.

“No,” he said. “Unless you were lying. I mean, I thought I felt you squeezing me extra tight, but…” 

“I did!” you exclaimed. “I did, I did, so please-” 

Finally, Sylvain pulled his fingers out of your spasming pussy, smiling like he’d won. You wilted, half glad to be spared the discomfort of oversensitivity and half disappointed by the fresh ache of emptiness. The contradiction was like a slap in the face, your body betraying you all over again.

“See, it’s not that hard to be honest,” Sylvain said. “So go ahead, admit it.” 

“Admit what?” you asked softly, wetly. 

“Admit that you’re a slut, and all you want is to get fucked by yours truly.” How he even managed to wink at you while saying something so profane, you had no idea, only that it made you flush so hot your ears stung. 

“You… you’re awful,” you told him.

“I’m a good-for-nothing asshole, yeah,” Sylvain agreed. “But at least I’m honest about it. You can’t even do that.”

“I-I’m not…”

“Yeah, you’re just a poor pathetic little crybaby getting taken advantage of by the mean, mean bully. Right?” 

“But… but you are,” you told him. Sylvain snorted derisively, peeling you off the wall and flipping you around, guiding you into a graceless stumble forward until you were facing the window. There wasn’t much of a view up here, especially not on a dark night like this. Sylvain pushed you down, forcing you to hold onto the window ledge for stability. Ignoring your complaints, he flipped your skirt up, kicking your feet apart a little. 

“Sylvain, please stop, I do-don’t-”

“Stop squirming around so much,” he told you, shoving your panties down. The fabric strained, pulled taut between your thighs. He used them to keep you still while undoing his belt and pants. “Don’t you think I deserve something too? I’ve been pretty nice, all things considered.” 

All you could do was wheeze in response, caught off guard by the sudden pressure of his cock pressing between your folds. Given the poor light and the position, there was a bit of fumbling. He clicked his tongue in annoyance and withdrew, letting you relax slightly. This wouldn’t work. Not in such a shameful position, not here where you could be found.

“Yeah, just like that. Relax for me,” Sylvain said sweetly, his voice contrasting with the harsh palm forcing you to bend down even more, your thighs burning as you rocked forward on your toes. When his cock returned, it was slick with saliva, easily pushing past your outer lips. As soon as you felt the head press between the tense muscles of your entrance, Sylvain’s hips snapped forward. 

He groaned low in his chest, one of the few honest things to come out of his mouth that night. You whimpered. Even if your body was tense, Sylvain had no issue pushing until his hips met your ass. You were wet and, despite any mental rejection on your part, ready for this. The stretch wasn’t the discomfort of your first time, but the heady weight of something that should have been natural and beautiful. Sylvain grabbed your hips to adjust himself within you, manipulating you into position while you scrambled to hold onto the stone with sweaty hands, your legs trembling. 

“I have no idea why you make such a big deal out of this. You obviously love it,” Sylvain said, satisfied. You gripped onto the window ledge a little tighter, your face scrunching up with more tears as he pulled out. Slowly, luxuriating in the sensation. Your pussy clenched down around him, your hips rolling before you could get enough control over yourself to stop. “Don’t get me wrong, I do too. Most of the time, I don’t really care, you know? Sex is… well, it’s sex. You have a girl one, two times, and the itch is scratched. But you… I don’t know what it is, either.”

The only answer you could manage was a stuttered, “Aaa-aa-ah-” when Sylvain pushed back in, pushing you onto your toes again as he filled you all the way. You didn’t do anything to stop him. Your body accepted it eagerly, your inner walls fluttering as you adjusted to his size, providing a fresh wave of wet arousal to soak his cock as he wiggled your hips and pulled out. Pathetic, embarrassing tears dripped onto the floor. 

“Next time we do this, I’ll need a mirror,” Sylvain said, his voice raspy. “I’ve never met a girl that cries so much when she comes. I didn’t think I’d be so into it, but—fuck.” He groaned, his hips clapping loudly against your ass. Even if he wasn’t talking and groaning, even if you weren’t whimpering and gasping and sniffling with each inexorably deep thrust, the vulgar sound of skin slapping skin would have been more than enough of a giveaway to what was happening to anybody passing by. 

Worse than that, worse than anything else, was that Sylvain knew what he was doing. He targeted your g-spot by using the grip he had on your hips to grind you on his cock, to keep you in place for him as he thrust harder, faster so you had no chance to keep up, to sort out the assault of stimulation and pleasure. You shook, tense enough to snap, your fingers clawing at the stonework for stability as your body drew inward, everything within you focused on the growing heat.  

“Please,” you gasped, desperate for it. Later you could blame the insanity of pleasure, of lust, of need. That’s what you did before, the way you denied blame. “Please ta-touch me, I-”

“What, now you want to come? I thought you hated this,” Sylvain teased. A helpless moan left your open mouth, tears and drool dripping onto the floor as you were rocked back and forth. “Heh. Maybe if you keep begging.” 

As he spoke, Sylvain twisted your hips, his cock grinding against your inner walls, pushing so deep you’d probably feel it if you pressed on your abdomen. The sound of his voice, the intensity of fullness, the mindless lust and despair, it hit too hard and you sobbed and hiccuped and moaned and came and you didn’t mean to, but your pussy desperately clamped down around him, your hips tilting upward, your back arching as that contentious ball of heat just snapped, filling you with pleasure, white hot and wonderful and feverish. Some part of you was grateful that he didn’t stop, or even slow down, just kept fucking you through the orgasm, letting you ride it out. 

“Seriously?” Sylvain asked with a short, hoarse laugh of disbelief. 

As the high faded, you tried to squirm away, a helpless sob wracking your body as the shame caught up with you. Sylvain didn’t let you go. If anything, he was being more rough, more frantic. 

“Most girls need more than that to come, but you couldn’t even wait for permission,” he said.

“Nn-no, I-I didn’t me-mean to.”

“Yeah?” Sylvain asked, mockingly indulgent. “It wasn’t your fault, was it, baby? You can’t help it, right?” 

You shook your head, knowing any answer you gave would just feed into his cruelty. 

Sylvain paused, leaning over to pull your torso upward. His fingers dug hard into your wet cheeks, his other arm holding your hips in place so he could keep going. 

“It’s fine, I don’t think I can last either,” he said, softer now, his hand raising to grope your tits through your dress. At this point, he was practically rutting into you. Using you. 

All you could do was whimper and whine and sob, just trying to hold on, unable to keep your pussy from squeezing him as he fucked you, writhing back against him helplessly because even this felt good. Terrible and cruel and good. 

“Later,” Sylvain said, his voice hoarse. Speaking because it made you react, got your pussy to tighten around him a little harder, made you whine a little louder. “Later, I‘m gonna give you a reason to cry, yeah? If you wanna… wanna act like a spoiled brat, I’ll treat you like one. Gonna look so hot swallowing my cock… Tied to my bed, begging me to fuck you… Covered with hickies…” 

“Sylvain,” you whimpered, hating the anxious, dark mixture of heat and fear his threats filled you with. He groaned even louder, his mouth opening to let out a low, sensual sigh that only worsened your feeling of helpless need, his hips slapping against your ass so hard it almost hurt. “Plea—ease, it-”

“Yeah, beg for it,” he told you eagerly, crushing you against him while he sought his end. 

“Nnngh-”

“Beg me to come inside of you… maybe you can keep it from slipping down your thighs when we go back. Otherwise you’ll get it all over your pretty dress.” 

You whimpered, sobbed, but that wasn’t much of a choice. Better inside of you where nobody would see, you could remember the mess from last time. 

“Please come inside of me,” you asked. Begged. You sounded desperate. You sounded like you wanted it. “Please, Sylvain. Come… inside..” 

Sylvain groaned, pressing his face against your neck as his hips lost any and all sense of tempo, his cock buried deep inside of you as he came with a loud, open sound that shuddered apart, holding you tight as he did. And then there was just stillness. Harsh breathing and heat and sweat and the stench of sex. He laughed a little, still breathless. Blissed out. “That was good,” Sylvain told you, kissing your neck before pulling out and letting you go. 

You stumbled forward, holding onto the window ledge, panting and shaking. Aware of the emptiness inside of you and the slick feeling of his cum drooling out of your cunt. No matter what he said, you didn’t think you could return to the party. Everybody would know. With shaking hands, you pulled your panties up, let your skirt fall back into place. You could hear Sylvain fixing his clothes too, but you didn’t want to look at him. You didn’t want to exist. 

“Guess I’ll go back first, give you some time to clean up,” he said, his voice mostly back to normal. 

“Okay,” you said, nodding. 

“You alright?” 

“Yes.”

“Hm. By the way, I meant it,” Sylvain told you, grabbing your wrist to turn you around and look at him. He didn’t really look that much worse for wear. Not like you felt. He smiled, dark eyes bright and smile slightly too sharp. “About later. Don’t think you’re off the hook just yet.”

You pulled your arm away, your chest tightening with panic and fear and excitement. Despair. Hatred. Self loathing. “No, this can’t… it can’t happen again.” 

“What are you gonna do—whine at me to stop?” he asked. “Cry and hope that I’ll feel bad? C’mon, baby. I know you liked it.”

You didn’t say anything, glaring at his chest in an attempt to keep yourself from responding to that taunt. 

“That’s what I thought,” Sylvain said. Not in a mean way. No, he sounded friendly, approachable. “I’ll see you later, babe.”    

[georgiapeach30513]

Step Into My Ride, Part 3

Summary: why Chris hates Ransom so much.

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, restraints/tied up, voyeurism, cream pie, mentions of drug trafficking, unexpected pregnancy, arrest, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 3.8K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

He had eyed you for a while. He had dropped not so subtle hints that he wanted to take you out. He was typically the type of man you went for, and you couldn’t come up with a good excuse to tell him no, so you went. Against your better judgment.

Chris was nice enough. He was good looking. He was a cop. He was a good boy, and came from a good family. Exactly the type of man your mother would want for you, and still something felt off. Conversation was fine. It was easy. He loved to talk about himself, and you listened. Smiled at the right times, and even added just enough to his conversation. You complimented him enough, and Chris liked it.

Chris, however, did not think about the restaurant that he had brought you. Didn’t think anything of how he met you. Didn’t even notice his cocky nephew walk in with his woman for the night, but you did. Yours and Ransom’s eyes meet immediately, and you have to look down to the table to get your gaze off him. The two of you had been noticing each other for awhile, but you and he both were with other people.

Ransom’s mouth turns up into a crooked smile when he walks directly to yours and Chris’ booth. You gulp, looking at anything but him. Wanting to completely ignore what was happening, and then Chris’ hand grips onto your thigh, “Was there no race, Ranny?” He asks as Ransom and his girl slide in.

Ransom’s arm goes around her shoulder, but his stare is intently on you. “You would know. Cops were out hot like crazy tonight. So we just gave up. Lost a lot of money on that race.”

“You don’t lose money,” Chris snarls, pulling you closer to him. “You just gain.”

“Yeah, something like that,” Ransom’s voice is incredibly low, and you have to start fidgeting your fingers. He had this magnet that was pulling you closer to him. It was infuriating that you just had no self control, and you were on a date with someone else.

“Molly, I’d like you to meet my uncle Chris,” oh this was making things a lot more difficult. “Chris usually lets us know when the cops are a little crazy. Looks like he was preoccupied. So…what do you got here, Christopher.”

Chris introduces you to Ransom and Molly, and you immediately hate her. Hate that she had Ransom’s touching her, while you had a commanding hand on your thigh. Ransom leans back in the booth, his foot planting itself in between your own, and you try not to react. He was a cocky little fucker. Playing footsie with you while both of you were on dates. And you just so happened to be with his uncle.

“Yeah, I’ve seen this dame around. The past few times she’s been at the race, I’ve won big money. It’s like she’s my personal lucky charm.”

“And she’s on a date with me. You know, I think we should go,” Chris starts to edge himself out the booth, and both of Ransom’s legs hold you in place. He had no intentions of letting you go.

“I think you should stay,” his foot toes higher on you, and he chuckles when your legs drift further apart. “Come on, we hardly see each other anymore, Uncle Chris. I think we need to take this moment to spend some time together. What do you think, Lucky Charm?”

“Chris, we haven’t had dessert,” his booted foot rubs softly up and down your leg, getting as high up as your knee, and you get visions of fucking him in the bathroom. Making both your dates wait while he pounds into you with a hand over your mouth. “I hear they have really good cheesecake here.”

“I love cheesecake,” Ransom winks at you, and slick pools in your panties. Your body was heated up so much it was all the way in your cheeks. The urge you had to start grinding in your seat was making it harder to see. You wanted him. You wanted to push aside all reserves you had for Ransom. You need him all over your body. He was too bold not to know what he was doing.

“Fine. We’ll have dinner tonight. But then maybe you and I can spend some time alone. For our first date?”

“Yeah. Sure,” that wasn’t convincing in the slightest, and at least Ransom understood that. At this point you were throbbing so hard you were ready to sit in Ransom’s lap while everyone watched you bounce on top of him. It was unnatural and animalistic. But you wanted it.

Chris may be oblivious to things, but you weren’t. You saw everything. Ransom’s arm leaving Molly’s shoulder. The conversation quickly turning into just you and Ransom. The way you were trying to scoot away from Chris, and lean across the table to give Ransom your undivided attention. A moth to a flame. You were the delicate little moth, and Ransom was a ball of fire that you couldn’t look away from.

“Mother fucker,” Chris tosses his phone in his cruiser. Another call went straight to voicemail. There is no other place that you would be. He even saw you at the race for the first time. He had nothing else to lose.

He shouldn’t have left his post, but it didn’t seem like there was anyone checking for the hooligans trying to conduct an illegal race. There was a shift with you the moment that Ransom had sat down at the table, and he didn’t trust his nephew. Ransom always got whatever he wanted, and how he wanted it.

Chris was the bastard son of Harlan Thrombey. Barely even recognized by his siblings as one of them. Ransom was looked at as more important to the family, and he was a criminal. He was only a grandson.

“You son of a bitch,” Chris growls as he sees Ransom winning a race and going straight to you. Treating you like a common whore. His hand goes under your shirt, and cups your breast as he crashes his lips on yours. Basically fucking each other out in public. A needy little slut, and you were letting Ransom use you.

Trash. For all that Ransom had, he was trash. His mother and grandfather would be so disappointed. As would yours. Daughter of the school headmaster, and your mother was a model. Your grandfather was a state senator and grandmother the president of the D.A.R. Chris had looked into you. You deserved better than the life Ransom was pulling you into.

After this race there was only one place Ransom would take you, and Chris was going to wait and see just how close the two of you were to breaking up. He had his rituals. He only kept girls for a month. No more. And just before breakup, he sends you about your merry way after sex. Slowly growing distant

“Oh god, Ran!” Your shouts could be heard outside of the garage. If anyone wanted to watch, it would be easy. All the lights were on. There were no blinds on the windows. But to see you with your hands tied to the ceiling as Ransom fucks into you from behind infuriated him.

Ransom wasn’t even looking at your face, just his dick being sucked back into your cunt. Looking at how shiny your juices was making him. You were a tied up plaything. Even when your knees start to give out, Ransom grips tighter to your hips, keeping you on your feet. “Please! Please, Ran!”

“You’re almost there, Lucky. Give me one more, and I’ll let you rest, I promise.”

It felt like he had been using you for hours. Couldn’t even bother taking you somewhere special. Just tied you up like the rest of them. But even Chris couldn’t deny that this was different. It never lasted this long. He never talked to them. He never touched them with the care he was giving you. But the biggest surprise comes when you sigh, feeling Ransom’s warmth spurt deep into your womb, and his thrusts slow down.

Both of you panting so sweetly, and he pulls you back to him. Removing your hands from their restraints, and starts giving you the sweetest kisses. His hands drift down your front, and softly plays with your clit while you whimper in his mouth. And then Chris sees it; Ransom’s cum starting to leak onto your thighs. Ransom doesn’t do that. Even admitted boldly that he would never do that.

“You wanna stay here, Luck? Or you want to go back to your place?”

“Here, baby. Uhh,” you whine as he pulls himself out of you. You grab at his hand, sucking each finger clean, all while staring up at him like an angel. “Maybe you can make sweet love to me in that little bed?”

You didn’t even care that Ransom lived at the fucking garage. Ransom could have been anybody, and he chose to be a nobody. This pissed Chris off even more. You should already have been in his bed. You were his, and yet just another thing Ransom had stolen from him.

You swing your arms down, letting the cars rush past you, and solemnly walk back to the crowd. You didn’t know how you were going to tell Ransom. You were both adults though. Both of you were not careful. Both of you participated each time that you had fucked. But those tests did not lie. Every single one. All of them with the same result.

You wanted the baby, and wanted Ransom. And you weren’t sure if you could have both.

“Luck, what’s wrong?” Chris steps up behind you, and you flinch a moment. You know he wasn’t happy with how you didn’t return his calls, but you were — preoccupied. “Lucky?”

“Nothing,” but your lip trembles. “It’s fine.”

“Fine doesn’t make you cry at a race.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be patrolling?” Chris taps a police scanner, “Oh,” he holds up a partially smoked joint, and you decline without hesitation, causing Chris’ brows to raise.

“Since when did you stop smoking? I thought that was how you can stand to be around that prick.”

“Don’t say that,” your eyes look out into the distance, barely able to hear the rumble of the cars anymore. “I love him.”

“That came from nowhere,” the distaste was heavy on his tongue. You may love Ransom, but Ransom saw you as an easy lay. Someone that didn’t want to argue about having to sleep at a garage to stay with him. “You don’t even know him.”

“I do. I know him more than you think. He’s…he’s not like you assume. Not when it’s just us,” Ransom was the opposite of what everyone else saw. He was gentle, patient, kind, funny, and so loving. He never even wanted his hands off of you.

“Oh, you mean he doesn’t want to fuck you in a car, while there’s a crowd of people around you.”

You scoff. Chris didn’t fully understand. He couldn’t. He was rarely around the two of you. He stayed away, and when he was around it was just him glaring at Ransom. “Wow. You’re acting like they were surrounding the car and watching Ransom and me fuck. They weren’t even paying us any goddamn mind. I guess except you. What is you’re fucking deal?”

“He’s using you!” You shake your head, starting to walk away, but he grabs your wrist too hard. Not letting go of it. “Yes, he is. Letting everyone here know you’re off limits. He…Lucky you’re not even using protection. What happens if…” your breathing picks up, and finally, his hold loosens when your tears start back and your chest starts to heave.

“Oh my god. You’re pregnant. With…with his bastard.”

“My baby is not a bastard! You better shut your fucking mouth!”

“Luck, you can’t stay with him. You live in a studio apartment, and he lives in a room in a garage. You can’t raise a baby in either of those places. You know exactly what’s going to happen when you tell him,” he didn’t know what he was talking about. Chris was just feeding your worst fears. Ransom wouldn’t leave. Ransom would stay. He knew what unprotected sex was going to do.

“He’s gonna leave. He doesn’t want kids. You know how many times he told me he doesn't want kids?”

“Then maybe he shouldn’t have been coming inside of me. What is your problem? You — you don’t know anything.”

“I know Ransom. Just…let me be the daddy, if you need to keep it.”

“Had to add that ‘if’ in, huh? I’m keeping my baby. And I’m keeping Ransom. Thanks for the offer, Chris. Thanks for making a pregnant woman think the worst of her boyfriend. You know nothing about us. You think Ransom is winning all this money for dope? Why do you have to be such an asshole? I needed comfort tonight,” the roar of the cars returning. It wouldn’t be long until Ransom was beside you, and the two of you could talk.

“I just know how he is.”

“Did you know we found some land? Course you didn’t. You’re too busy being jealous. Chris, I like you. But I’m in love with him. I’m having his baby. And you can accept that or fuck off.”

“Luck, I don’t need you to hate me. I need you to know that the offer stands. I have stability with the police. I can offer you more than just this life,” with the headlights now visible you step away from Chris. You didn’t want to continue this. You wanted Ransom. You wanted to talk. Partying wasn’t for tonight.

“She’s pregnant,” Ransom slumps down in a chair in Chris’ office. “And I’m scared to death.”

“Because you don’t know how you’re going to break up with her?”

“What?” Ransom shakes his head, laughing at how uncomfortable this was. “No, we bought land. But I can’t build a house in such a short amount of time. I don’t have the money for that.”

“Unless you start selling,” Chris had long been trying to get Ransom to run for him. Said that he had the perfect avenue with the garage and the racing. Ransom wanted a relatively honest living. One that didn’t include drugs.

“No. I’m not doing that shit. I told you I wasn’t going to sell. I want an honest life at the garage, and extra cash from the racing. So much has been put back into the garage, and she gets it. Man, she’s perfect. I didn’t want kids, but one with her doesn’t sound bad at all. Are you kidding me? I can’t wait. I don’t care if we lived in a double wide trailer,” Chris rolls his eyes, settling back in his seat. “What?”

“A trailer?”

“They have nice trailers.”

“You could have money to build a house on your land.”

“I don’t deal in dope. I’ve got a kid coming. I can’t risk a felony charge for drug trafficking,” Chris starts to laugh, which only infuriates Ransom more. “You can’t guarantee just because you’re a fucking cop that I won’t get caught. I’m not running drugs. I’d rather ask my parents for money than risk losing my child and her. You know she wouldn’t stay with me. Luck is the real deal. She won’t stand by me if I’m arrested.”

Ransom pulls a box out of his pocket, opening it up and he stares lovingly at the ring. It wasn’t the most expensive, wasn’t even a real diamond. But he knew it was going to be beautiful on your finger, “She deserves something real. This was less than three hundred bucks, and at Walmart. I have to pick and choose. I’m going to do right by them. And our money is now towards a place to live.”

Ransom doesn’t say anything more, only stands up to leave, “Don’t come at me with that offer again. You need to get out of that shit, too.”

Ransom always had everything figured out. Knew how to steal his girl. Knew how to make extra money without risk of a felony. Knew how to change his mind to make a girl stay. Chris hated how everything came so easy to that fucking prick. He hated him. He hated Hugh Ransom Drysdale.

Chris takes a long toke of his joint as he stares at yours and Ransom’s trailer. Every light in the house was off. It is quiet. Serene. The only thing visible was Gracie’s night light casting pictures on the ceiling. He pulls out his phone, “They’re all there,” hanging up quickly, and settles back in his seat. Front row to Ransom’s worst nightmare.

You stir in your sleep. Your hand drifts up and down Ransom’s chest. “Shh, go back to sleep, darling,” Ransom mumbles, giving you a soft kiss on your head. He wraps an arm around you, holding you tight against him, “Love you, my Lucky charm.”

“I love you, Ran,” your voice is already getting heavier as the sleep takes you over again. You never wanted to miss a night sleeping next to him. Having his boxers so low that his groomed hair was poking out the top. Ransom was the best thing that had ever happened to you.

The team surrounds your home, someone stationed at every door, and every window. The master bedroom was to the east side of the house, and not a peep was coming from the room.

You jolt up in bed as the doors break in. Standing up trying to get to Gracie’s room before something hard hits you on the chest, “Stay the fuck down!”

“You get your hands off her!” Ransom screams as a police officer slams him face down on the floor. Tears fill his eyes as he watches you immobile. Hit so hard that they knocked the breath out of you. “Let her go! Lucky! Luck, darling, are you breathing. My god, she’s trying to get our daughter,” Ransom’s tears turn to rage when he hears Gracie’s terrified scream. “Let her get our baby!”

“Mommy!”

“She can’t breathe!” You finally gasp for air. Gaining more strength when you hear her voice again. “Let her go!” She needs you. She sounds so scared, and you can’t move. Could barely breathe. Struggling to say her name. You need your baby.

“Mr. Drysdale, do you have any weapons in the house?”

“Gracie,” you croak out. “Please, let me get my daughter. She’s crying.”

“She’s fine,” the officer screams in your ear, and then Gracie is able to run past someone. Seeing you on the floor, and screams, reaching for you. “Calm the child down!”

“She’s scared. She’s a baby! Please. Please!”

“If you let them go, I leave without a fight. There’s guns in the closet safe, along with some cash. Just let them go!” The officer holding Ransom down nods to your captor, and they release you, and you dash towards Gracie. Grabbing her up and pressing her close to your body, trying to soothe her tears.

“Ransom Drysdale, you’re under arrest for drug trafficking. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law,” you stare horrified as they lift him up to his feet. Cuffing his hands behind his back, and pushing him out the door.

“Daddy! Where are you taking my daddy! No! Daddy.”

“You have the right to have an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you by the court,” they push his head into the car, but his eyes stay in front of him. Face as hard as stone.

“Can I get him some clothes?” You ask, still holding Gracie close to you. “He’s just wearing boxers. H-h-he needs shoes.”

“Mrs. Drysdale…”

“Let me get him some clothes, please? He’s been arrested for…for what?”

“Did you know anything about your husband’s drug running?”

“I-I-I…�� you look out to the police cruiser, remembering the words that Ransom said, “I’m not speaking without a lawyer. Let me get him some clothes. And let — god, can our daughter see him for a second? Sh-sh-she’s scared, and you…you took her daddy.”

“Get him some clothes,” the officer says, following you into the bedroom where they were ripping everything apart. Sleep still addled your brain, and this was quickly becoming overwhelming. Your home was being destroyed right before your very eyes.

“Oh god. What…what are you doing?”

“Do you have somewhere else to go tonight?” Snapping his fingers, the other officers stop their search. Pointing over to the closet. Even what you grab out for Ransom to wear is heavily searched. Pockets pulled out, and shoes looked into before they give them back to you. “Ma’am, your home is going to be searched, do you have somewhere else to go?”

“Can I pack us a suitcase?”

“No.”

“What about her nightlight, and doll?’

“No.”

Dammit. “Can you get us some fucking shoes then? My god, what is going on?”

“Where are you going?”

“To Harlan Thrombey’s. Can I go see Ransom now?” Still an officer stays with you as you walk clothes out to Ransom. “Baby?”

“Tell Harlan to call my lawyer the minute you get in. Don’t talk to anybody. Don’t let anyone but Harlan and mom be alone with Gracie. Not even Chris,” you nod your head. You didn’t want to ask too many questions, because Ransom wouldn’t answer. “Baby girl, daddy is going to be away for a while.”

Gracie shakes her head no, reaching for her dad, “No,” you were getting about fucking tired of that word.

“Daddy! Daddy, don’t leave me. I get scared at bed time without you.”

“Gracie, you be good for mommy, and gramma, and Pappy, okay?” Gracie’s face scrunches up tightly. Tears pour down her face, still reaching for him. “Daddy will be back. No matter what, daddy loves you and mommy.”

“Daddy, no! Daddy, I’m scared!” The officer slams the door, separating you and Gracie from him, and he gives the top a tap, as it starts to roll away. “Daddy! I need my daddy! No, gimme my daddy back!”

“Ma’am, I suggest you and your daughter go somewhere else tonight.”

“Can you not…god, I have a studio with expensive camera equipment.”

“It’s all being seized,” he walks away from you, and you watch horrified as figures discard items in your home. You couldn’t watch this anymore. Couldn’t calm Gracie down.

Chris takes his final hit of the roach before tossing it onto the ground. Smiling to himself as he backs his car off your property. Ransom didn’t win this time. Finally he was getting what was owed to him. And finally Chris was going to get what always belonged to him. You. And now Ransom was almost out of the way. And there would only be you.

His. You were always his.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @missusbarnes-rogers @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @elrw24 @midnightramyeoncravings @saiyanprincessswanie

[sincerelyyycece]

your eyes are really pretty up close.

The perilous assignment undertaken by Sirius results in him getting into trouble, and it's James's elder sister who comes to his rescue.

note: reader is james's elder sister, a spy agent setting, and their marauders nicknames are used as spy agent nicknames (Vixen is reader's nickname.)

sincerelyyycece © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

A man shouts, "Black, come back here!" I smirk back at him. "You are a dead man!" he yelled again. He ran with his friends, attempting to catch up with me. This is not the ideal way to begin my story, but it is manageable. Hello! Nice to meet you! My name is Sirius Black. Call me Sirius. You clearly caught me at the wrong moment. As you can see, I am trying to get rid of these guys. Why? Well, let me explain later. I round a corner, still running. I must admit that I am tired, but I refuse to give up. I take in deep breaths, attempting to catch my breath.

Hands draw me to one side of the building. I could feel another body colliding with mine. I went to defend myself but was cut off when a female voice said, "It’s just me, Padfoot." My heart skipped a beat. Y/N. She looked around the corner to see if the guys were nearby. This is Y/N. I tried to remain still in front of the woman I had admired since I first laid eyes on her, aware of our close proximity. Oh, she smells wonderful. I shook my head briefly. I sound like a pervert.

I take a steady breath and close my eyes. I made eye contact with her the moment I opened my eyes. I swallowed nervously, and her brow furrowed. "Something’s wrong with you," she said quietly, just for me to hear. "Huh?" Now it was my turn to be puzzled. "Your heartbeats," she says, touching the left side of my chest. "It‘s beating fast." I chuckled nervously, trying to come up with an explanation. "That’s because I ran." I scratched the back of my neck nervously, laughing.

My laugh fades as she tilts her head. I stare at her, anticipating her next move. I decided to end the silence, but she said something that made my heart race. "Your eyes are really pretty up close." My eyes widened, and I opened my mouth to speak, but I choked on my own saliva instead. This is really embarrassing. Her eyes light up as if an idea has popped into her head. "Do I make you nervous?" she asked, smirking. "W-what?” I stuttered, facepalming myself internally.

She laughs. "Don’t worry, I won’t tell." I rolled my eyes, trying to be cool. "Hahaha, very funny, Vixen,” I remarked sarcastically. She shrugged and took another look around. "The coast is clear." She grabs my wrist, running away from our hiding spot while being careful not to be caught. I keep staring at her hands. She is gripping me firmly but gently. Her hands are smooth and soft. "Sirius." I look right at her. I hummed in response to the question. Her eyes rolled. "I said we were almost there, and I need you to notify Prongs.”

"Oh, right." I push the button on the side of my pants. After a few minutes of running, we came to a stop in a cleared field. We climbed up upon seeing a jet. A male voice spoke up, saying, "Good work." Meet James, also known as Prongs, Y/N's youngest brother and my closest friend. He patted me on the back and hugged his sister. "If Y/N hadn’t come down there to save you, you would probably be injured by now." I glared at him. "Are you implying that I’m incapable of fighting?" he shrugged. Y/N hits him in the head first, before I can. James rubs his head, saying, "Ow!”

“Stop being a menace and drive back to headquarters.” James glared at her and walked off to the cockpit. “Whatever.” I thanked her and she gave me a smile in return. This girl has saved me twice now. Well, technically, once, but a guy can dream. I should return the favour one of these days.

Sirius was engulfed in a tornado of feelings and ideas as the jet engines roared to life, taking them back to headquarters. Y/N's smell lingered in the air around him, her presence both reassuring and thrilling. There was a peaceful quiet in the air, a break in the storm, even though their previous escape had been chaotic.

Sirius sneaked glances at Y/N as they soared into the sky, attempting to read the mysterious depths in her gaze. Every moment he felt had been stolen was a window into a world he had always wanted to discover. He couldn't get rid of the sensation that there was more going on between them than just friendship and camaraderie.