#many little posts have come to my mind today

[ansmangacaps]

[derpinette]

sometimes i will get bored & go through someone's entire blog since its creation

[jensthwa]

show & tell pt. 2 (SMG x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

After the… masterclass you gave Mingi the night before, you’re left anxious on what the future holds for you both. But there’s a pool party you promised you would attend and there’s not really time for you to figure your feelings out before your best friend shows up at your door to drive you to it. So maybe today is not the day to figure your feelings out, right? It’s just a pool party anyways, so nothing out of the ordinary is going to happen… right?

PAIRING: best friend!mingi x afab reader.

GENRE: childhood best friends (idiots) to lovers.

WORD COUNT: 11k.

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) anxiety attack, attempt !!! at comedy, wooyoung being a little shit part two ft jongho, a new oc being the voice of reason, reader is clueless and in denial i fear, jealousy, miscommunication, fighting so this part is just a tiny bit angsty :(, confessions, teasing, face sitting, hand job, car sex (don't do it in public people, it can get you arrested), pet names (love and baby), a plot line at the end none of you guys are going to get until my new wip drops but it's worth the wait!

NOTES: hey everyone! thank you so much for patiently waiting for this second and last part to drop. i think that, after this one, if you guys want to request any drabbles or if i come up with some scenarios for this couple i will post them but for now nothing is on the works. what is on the works is a wip that's part of the same universe as this one, so pay attention to the new characters i mention if you want any clues! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: july 28th 2024.

TAGLIST (sorry if i forgot anyone, pls let me know!): @vannerriin / @mingtinysworld / @purple-bell / @bakepotatoman / @nxy3h / @taehyungmami / @nxcxllxsevens / @breadpuddingboys / @hotteokkay

masterlist.

When you wake the next morning, the consequences of restless sleep show up in your face as a reminder of what happened the night before. 

It's not that you regret it, it's more the fact that you feel so unapologetic about messing with the perfect dynamic you have with Mingi that caused you to toss and turn so much. 

Last night, after putting your duvet back on and then crashing into the mattress feeling all tingly and giddy, you asked yourself a thousand questions. 

The main one being: What the fuck did you do? 

The words kept repeating over and over in your head, your voice of reason (or your anxiety) screaming at you to get your phone and make it right before everything becomes a complicated, unresolvable mess. 

You had a brief moment of panic and heavy breathing, your chest tight with unspoken emotion and your eyes filled with tears. 

It was too much, so you forced yourself up and paced around for what felt like hours trying to get your feet back on the ground. Nothing was working, so you sat down at your desk and rested your forehead against it. 

When you didn't feel the usual coolness of the wood, a comfort sensation for when your studies got the best out of you for the day, and instead felt a pen almost stab you in the eye, you -very confused- leaned back. 

Mingi’s notebook and the pen he didn't put back on the pencil case seemed to stare back at you lovingly instead of mocking you for losing control over your own emotions. 

A sense of peace washed over you when you flipped the pages and landed on the instructions he wrote down. Memories of the amazing years you have had by his side started crossing your mind, like recomforting flashes that allowed your heartbeat to go back to normal: 

The first day you saw Mingi, chasing behind a worned out soccer ball and then kicking it so hard it landed on your lawn. 

The first time you two hugged, when your dad scolded you for having bad grades until you cried in front of him. 

The way he held your hand before heading inside to take the college admission exam, last year of highschool. 

His kind eyes. His reassuring smile. The way he made you feel just a few hours back. 

There's no getting rid of me either, love.

We'll figure it out. 

Letting a few contained tears run down your cheeks, you nodded to yourself as if he was there in the room with you. 

Yeah, you'll figure it out.  

And then proceeded to, very much, not figure shit out for the rest of the night. You could still feel his hands everywhere and hear his voice against your ear whispering how much he knows you and pays attention to you. 

You are fucked. 

It's all you can think about when you get ready for the day. It's all you can think about when you help your dad with lunch and when you let your parents know at the table that you are going out that same afternoon. 

“Mingi is driving you, right?” 

“Yeah…” you whisper in response, eyes focused on one specific spot at the table and mind a million years away from the conversation. 

“Good. He's such a good kid, Y/N, I'm glad he knows how to take care of you.” 

Choking on air when your brain finally catches up to her words, you look back up at your mother in shock “W-what?” 

“Yeah honey, what? Y/N can take care of herself,” your father chips in, unaware of your red cheeks or the honest expression of panic you're giving both of them “She's a big girl that carries around that, uh… What was it?— Ah, that pepper spray I gave her, right?” 

“R-right.” 

He lets out a satisfied see? at your answer, gives you a tiny smile and gets up from the table to take his finished plate over to the sink. 

Your mom stays behind, giving you a look you can't quite read before her usual calm expression washes it away. Only then, you can take a proper, very needed, calming breath. 

“I need to get ready. Thank you for the food.” 

“You made it, dear.” 

“I mean! For taking care of the, uh, plates,” you clumsily correct yourself right away, getting up from the table as well “Love you. Bye!” 

You don't miss the confused giggle on your way to your room and when you're behind closed doors, you finally take into consideration that you might be, in fact, overreacting.

Not much, you think, but just enough to give your feelings away. And it's truly a shame, because you were planning on concealing and bottle everything up until it, inevitably, blows up in your face. 

Maybe not the smartest option. 

If you bang your head against the wall with enough force maybe, just maybe it’ll help—

Someone's texting you. 

> gi: heeeeey > gi: just woke up lol > gi: had the best sleep ever tho > gi: how are you, love? 

Okay. So normal texting it is. Maybe your initial plan of just pretending nothing happened is, coincidentally, Mingi’s plan as well. 

So you type in it's literally almost one, ya lazy and let your thumb hover over the send button, eyebrows creased at a sudden realization. 

The casual texting annoys you. 

Sure, Mingi is used to keeping everything casual between him and the people he sleeps with, but you're not just anyone! You didn't sleep together, either! 

Oh, maybe that's why. 

But it ticks you off either way. 

Is he not feeling the same way you do? Did it mean something different for him than it did to you? What did it even mean to you in the first place?

Why, after all the panic you felt the night before, did you have any sort of expectation for today? 

It doesn't make any sense. 

You hit send. 

> gi: aaaaand?  > gi: god forbid a man gets a good night's rest after being thrown off a bed. 

Scoffing, your eyes roll before you can even control it and, to your demise, the giddiness returns. You respond with did you get hurt? awww and raise a hand to your blushed cheek before sending the message.

> gi: yeah wtf  > gi: my butt is all bruised.  > gi: kiss it better? 

Oh. 

Not casual texting. At. All. 

Or maybe it is? 

Ugh.

Blanking on everything Mingi has ever texted you before, you decide it's best to entertain yourself by getting all pretty to sit around the house party tonight and do nothing else instead of torturing your confused brain any longer. 

Using the help of an emoji to flip him off and, hopefully, gather yourself together enough to get ready, you shoot him another text rushing him to do the same because you don't want to be late. 

And he usually takes forever to get ready anyways.

Showering with very cold water, taking a good thirty minutes to decide whether to wear something comfy and fitting or sexy and fitting for the party do the job when it comes to taking your mind off him for, at least, the time being. 

Yunho was insistent the day before in that you didn't need to bring a bathing suit if you didn't want to, but you pack one anyways because you can sense Wooyoung's and Jongho’s intentions even if the youngest couldn't make it to your impromptu gathering yesterday. 

They know you hate when they get away with annoying you and throwing you into the nearest body of water -in this case, Yunho’s pool- in front of many people you don't know (therefore, you are not going to able to go insane mode on them) seems like the perfect opportunity to get away with it.

The last time they did it you weren't really able to scold them properly either, so they laughed and pointed at you until you threatened to kick their asses in a very dishonest but playful way. 

Mingi, of course, did nothing but laugh along with everyone else and then kiss your forehead as an apology later that day. 

That was last summer and since then both perpetrators have treated you to meals and buttered you up enough for you to forgive (as if you didn't do that the morning that followed the incident) but you never forget. 

Maybe you should. It would make the sight of Mingi parking outside your house easier, you think.

You're sure he's parking outside just to give your dad, who comes out to greet him with a hug, some peace of mind. He's very protective of you and he trusts Mingi even if he gives him a hard time everytime he sleeps over or takes you somewhere.  

Like now, you have a very clear view through your window of the sermon he's giving your best friend. You don't hear it but he's moving his hands in the air way too much for it not to be a clear step by step on what to do if you run into any trouble on the way to Yunho's. 

Mingi likes step by step and he's good at following instructions, so you don't think it's going to be an issue. 

God damnit, Y/N, get it together. 

Sighing, you pick up your bag, check your outfit once in front of the mirror, and rush downstairs and out of the door. 

“You do know how to change a tire, son?” 

Mingi is standing in front of your dad with his hands behind his back and a tight smile. 

“Yes sir, my dad taught me and then at the school they made sure I didn't forget about it.” 

“And make sure to—” 

“Could you let the guy breathe, dad?” 

They both turn to, your dad wears a mocking smile and you see Mingi’s tight one breaks into a genuine one a second later. A grateful one, even. 

He looks really good. Which is insane, considering that to you he looked like Chewbacca just yesterday morning. 

Crazy what a good orgasm can do to a person. Or maybe it's the first time you ever let yourself see him in this light. Either way, he's wearing light wash jeans and a fitted t-shirt that clings to him just right and it's going to drive you insane, you can just feel it. 

“I was just making sure that he—” 

“Knows what to do,” you nod “He knows what he's doing, dad. Stop giving him a hard time,” you give your dad a quick kiss on the cheek and then rush to the passenger seat, giving Mingi a glance so he can get in the car as well. 

“Alright. Love you, take care!” 

“Love you too, Mr. L/N!” Mingi says, getting into his seat and giving your dad the opportunity to see when he fastens his seatbelt. He doesn't say anything else, even though he didn't tell Mingi specifically that he loved him and instead gives you both a nod of approval. 

When Mingi finally drives off your street and into the main one, you sigh in relief. 

“He's neeever going to trust me, huh?” 

“He trusts you,” you say right away, cheek resting against the seat so you can take a proper look at him “I'm his only daughter and you're a man after all. Cut him some slack.” 

“He never cuts me some slack!” he fights back but you just laugh and he can't help but join you “You look really good, by the way. A dress? Are you trying to impress someone?” The tone he uses sparks the remaining tension from the night before, like zero time has passed since he kissed you goodnight by your front door. 

When you got into the car with Mingi, you didn't consider that you two would be alone for, at least, forty minutes before getting to your destination. Your mind skipped the fact that he has this new ability to fluster you by just existing near you and you curse it for not letting you prepare well enough for the way he's looking at you right now. 

“Obviously,” you answer in a whisper, clearing your throat a second later “Wooyoung needs to be distracted so he doesn't tackle me into the pool the second we get there. Don't know if it's gonna work on Jongho, though.” 

Mingi clicks his tongue, baring his teeth and pretending to really think about it “I don't think so, love. You'll have to bribe him into considering dropping their whole summer schtick for you.” 

“You can help me with that.” 

“Can I now?” 

“Yeah. You can just… lock him up in a room and my dress can do the rest of the work.” 

Your best friend laughs and then takes a hand off the steering wheel to roll the hem of your dress in between his thumb and index. His knuckles brush against your thigh and you almost -almost- make a noise at the sensation. 

“It's not the dress, love… It's who's wearing it.” 

A bit of silence passes within the both of you. 

“Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.” 

Laughter fills the car and drowns out the honking on the other side of the street and you wonder why you were worried in the first place. 

Nothing has changed. 

Aside from the intention laced with the flirting, it feels the same way it ever did and you couldn't be more glad because now that you know Mingi doesn't hate you (like you thought for a brief moment last night) or wants to hard launch a relationship that doesn't exist to your friends the second he gets them all together in the same room, you can enjoy the car ride and the evening that's about to follow it.

So you flirt with him freely, listen and sing along to songs that just feel like summer summarized in three minutes of exquisite writing and roll your window down once Mingi takes a turn into an hill, trees replacing the buildings you're so used to seeing. 

Your friend is rich rich. His family makes good money and his parents go on lots of business trips. That being said, it's the first time you actually attend one of his parties, and so when you get to Yunho’s house and ring the doorbell, you’re caught by surprise because you can already hear the loud music playing in the backyard and the blend of new and familiar voices through the thick door. 

You expect him to open the door for you but Seonghwa’s smile is the first thing you see before you and Mingi both have the opportunity to step in. 

“You made it!” 

“It's pretty hard to miss this house, Hwa.” 

Your older friend side-hugs you and stays by your side while Mingi takes it upon himself to put your bags for the day in the pile of other bags next to the door “How are you doing today?” 

You're about to answer but when you look at him, you see him staring at Mingi, so you do too. He's staring at Hwa with a little smile “I'm doing good. I blocked her and everything and I can confidently say that…” he turns to you “My ego’s not bruised anymore.” 

If Seonghwa caughts the spark between you and you best friend, he decides to ignore it “That's goo—” 

“Mingi!” 

What the hell is she doing here? 

Not, not that bitch from yesterday but this girl who Mingi meets with sometimes. You don't really know her, you just know she's gorgeous and that her name starts with an h, maybe? 

She's a fashion major and it shows in the way she's dressed up today. Truly, an enjoyable company whenever she's around at frat parties, a saving grace when you're tired of surrounding yourself with only men. 

Right now? She's your worst nightmare. 

Wrapping her arms around Mingi’s neck and getting on her tippy toes to kiss his cheek, she smiles like she knows she's getting laid tonight and your best friend does nothing to pull her away. 

She doesn't even say hi to you before dragging him to the backyard! You and Seonghwa follow them and when she takes Mingi’s arm and pulls him over to -you assume- introduce him to her friends, you almost stomp your feet like a little kid. 

Trying to get rid of the annoyed frown on your face, you turn to Hwa with a teasing smile and your eyebrows raised. 

“Well fuck me, am I right?” 

“I might!” Arms wrap around your waist and you feel Woo’s chin resting on you shoulder immediately after “That's a very nice dress, Y/N.” 

If Mingi was next to you, like you want him to be, you would give him a I told you so glance. Instead, you just look at Seonghwa with absolute horror before he snickers and goes away. 

“Right? And it looks horrible when it's drenched in nasty chlorine water.” 

“You can't possibly know that.” 

“I know a lot of things and— No! Woo, please don't,” you beg when he lifts you off the ground for a second. Behind you, you hear laughs and, even though you can't see them, you know it's San and Jongho “I just got here and I haven't even changed yet, please.” 

He turns you around and hugs you properly this time before letting you go. You take the opportunity to punch him in the arm and then go over to San and Jongho to do the same. 

“We'll let you get your swimsuit on this time.” 

“You're so considerate, Jong. Seriously, they're going to give you the Nobel prize if you don't stop.” He mocks you, repeating what you just said in a higher pitched voice and you laugh as you sit next to Wooyoung’s ex-girlfriend, Gyuri. 

San also has a girl sitting beside him with his arm around her, but you don't really know her so you just wave at her. They're all in their bathing suits already “See how he tried to flirt with me to try to get me with my guard down? He's a monster.” 

“And in front of me, too? The nerve on this guy.” Gyuri, of course, backs you up immediately and you want to return her smile, but you can see Mingi from the corner of your eye and it's distracting. 

“Oh, they're ganging up on me already,” Wooyoung whines, sitting down in front of you both and handing you a drink “It's like my worst nightmare.” 

“He's enjoying it, don't let him convince you otherwise,” San says, getting up from his seat and taking his girl with him “Especially coming from you.” He points at Gyuri and you laugh. 

“We're just friends now!” 

“That's what you told me like three years ago before—” 

Wooyoung gets up to chase after him and San lets go of the girl's hand to try to get away from him. 

Turns out, you're not the one Woo tackles into the pool. This time, him and San crash down on the water hard and a few droplets of water wet your feet. Gyuri laughs and everyone else does too when they realize what's happening. 

Jongho gets up and joins them in the water soon after to try and help (kinda, not really) San escape the wrath of his best friend. 

You almost miss it, because you take the opportunity to look at your best friend and, when you do, he's already looking at you. 

Breath catches on your throat and the lump that forms afterwards has a name and a reason: Mingi is looking at you with so much longing it physically hurts. 

He looks like wants to drop everything and come and confuse your fragile mind even more, just like he did the night before. 

Then why the fuck is he there with whatever her name is and her friends and not sitting right next to you? 

You look away, grasping your drink for emotional support and convincing yourself you're starting to see things that are not actually there. 

“Why the fuck are y'all fighting this time?!” Yunho comes from inside the house and it's the first time you see him today “No choking! No running! It's literally in the rules!” 

“Wooyoung please let go of my boyfriend!” 

Ah. So she is San’s girlfriend. Still, you turn to Gyuri to ask. 

“Who is sh—” 

“San’s new girlfriend, Kyungmi. We don't give a fuck about her or San right now, we're mad at them,” you want to ask who we is, because Wooyoung seems like he's just playing, but she interrupts you again “What the fuck is going on with you and Mingi?” 

Huh?! 

You make a quick mental review of your plan. Conceal? Clearly it didn't work. Bury your emotions deep so no one notices? You probably can't recover from the way you smile just dropped. 

The only thing left on the list is pretend that you're insane, but you're not sure it'll work either. So you turn it on her: “Nothing much. He played Espresso like three times on a row on the way here and I almost kill him, but—” 

“You can't bullshit me, Y/N.” 

Great, that didn't work either. 

“I saw that. Seonghwa did too but he got up before I could convince him to ambush you,” she dramatically sighs, chugging the rest of her drink down “So, what is going on?” 

“Nothing,” that much is true “he's literally with a girl right now.” 

“And she will never mean as much to him as you do. Next.” 

“Gyuri… I really don't know what you want me to say.” 

Squinting her eyes at you suspiciously, Gyuri takes her time before answering and you fidget in your seat a little. Wooyoung liked her for a reason, she's feisty and goes straight to the point and it's something you usually admire but right now it's not the time for her to do this. 

“I just thought maybe it finally happened…” She whispers and shrugs the entire conversation off before getting up “Let's head inside. They're going to start grilling meat at any second and I also don't want to be near Wooyoung when he gets out of there.” She points at him and you laugh. 

Jongho has him in a chokehold and Yunho is trying to separate them while San desperately swims towards his girl that's still waiting for him near the edge of the pool. 

“Sure thing.” 

You pretend you don't feel Mingi's eyes on you as you move. 

This is not unusual. Whenever you all go to parties, hosted by someone inside of the friend group or not, you end up separating from Mingi. 

He does his thing. He's outgoing and he likes dancing while you enjoy conversation and drinking away at the rest of the party, occasionally making out with someone and calling it a night when your social battery runs out. 

So you hang out with Gyuri in the kitchen until the sun starts going down and when the last ray of it disappears you decide it's time to swim a bit before you're too tipsy for it to be safe. 

Grabbing your bag and greeting some new people you don't know at the door, you head up to the bathroom you are told by the host himself it's upstairs. 

When your tying up the strands of your swimsuit, the door slams open and you jump and cover yourself up with your hands because you're not able to finish the job, so the strands fall down and the only thing holding the top part of the fabric it's you. 

“What the fuck, Mingi?” 

Turning around, you're only able to look at him through the mirror. 

“Lock the door next time! What if it was somebody else?” 

“People usually knock!” 

“I didn't mean to scare you, it's the door’s fault,” he makes a fool of himself trying to prove it “See? I— let me help you with that,” he closes the door again and, this time, he locks it before taking a short step and grabbing the strands of your top “It's the second time this week I scare you like that, huh? I’m sorry, love.” He ties the strands together with a secure knot and his apology finally allows your tense muscles to relax. 

You remind yourself that there's no valid reason for you to be mad at him. You'll figure it out, he said it himself, and maybe today is not the day to do so. 

But he's not stepping away once he's finished, he's not even saying anything else before his hands grab your waist and his chest collides to your back. 

Looking at him through the mirror again, you silently ask him with your eyes what he thinks he's doing. He ignores you, bending down so the tip of his nose can trace the skin on the side of your neck. 

“I missed you,” his voice sounds like honey when he says it and you, once again, curse the ability he has to make you crumble “and you disappeared like an hour ago.” 

You let out a sigh. 

“I was in the kitchen, Mingi, not missing and we were in the same space for at least twenty minutes before that and like… forty minutes in a car, together.” You remind him and he frowns “Besides, you were with Ha… Haneul?” 

“Hanni,” he corrects and you huff out a whatever “and she was introducing me to some of her friends that are in the same major as me, just a year over.” 

“Cool.” 

He pecks your shoulder. You do your best to not melt completely into him and fix your hair in the mirror. 

“Y/N…” he starts and you hum in acknowledgement “I missed you.” 

It pisses you off for some reason. The mature thing to do is to let him know but the words that leave you are petty and laced with annoyance. 

“I’m sure you did, buddy.” 

He grins against your skin and you turn around to face him, eyebrow raising. 

“What's so amusing?” 

At your tone, he seems taken aback but his smile stays curving his lips upwards.

“I'm just really happy to have this moment with you,” he says, matter of factly, and you press your hands against his chest to regain some personal space. He doesn't budge an inch “What's going on?” 

He's such a guy sometimes. 

“You're here, kissing my neck, while a gorgeous girl who I'm sure is waiting for you downstairs is probably bragging to her friends about how she's going home with you tonight and—” 

“Y/N, I'm literally taking you home.” 

“I can easily take a car back— Mingi, seriously,” taking a deep breath, you stare at him with all the honesty you can gather “I don't want to do whatever this is if afterwards you're going downstairs to dance and flirt with Haneul or whatever her name is.” 

He looks like he wants to correct you on it again, so you level him with a daring glance. 

He keeps his mouth shut. 

“And I also don't want you to hurt her feelings if you tell her you can't leave with her tonight, so—” 

“I don't give a shit about her feelings, love.” 

“Mingi, don't say that!” 

“I don't! I wasn't flirting with her at all, either! Listen, it's…” he stops to chuckle for a few seconds “I mean, it's adorable that you're jealous but there's no reason for you to—” 

“Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.” 

It's the second time today you have said those exact words to him. The first time, you also felt your heart bang with such force against your rib cage but for a completely different reason. 

“I'm not one of the girls you fuck on the side when you're horny or bored out of your mind. Don't fucking treat me like one.” You warn and suddenly the image of you telling him that teaching him yesterday could mess you both up crosses your mind.  

“I'm not, Y/N! I'm just saying that you look adorable when you're—” 

“Jealous? Why would I be jealous when we are not together, Mingi? I'm literally looking out for the girl!” 

“You don't even know her name, love.” 

“That's not the fucking point!” 

He finally takes a step away from you, closing his eyes and taking a calming breath, surely.

Now you're pissed off because he saw right through you and your words. 

That disgusting weight on your chest you felt back by the pool while you kept staring at him from the corner of your eye? Jealousy. 

Now that he brought it up, it makes sense. 

You hate it. 

You always hated being put in a position where you felt the need to compare yourself to others. Always hated how easy it is for anger to run through your blood and infiltrate every waking thought until it clouds your judgment. 

Because you shouldn't be angry. He just said he didn't care about her feelings. 

And yet, all you can think about is that he spent an hour with her instead of you. 

When he turns to you, there's a storm in his eyes and you just don't want to hear it tonight. 

“Save it, keep it, sleep on it and we'll talk tomorrow,” picking your dress from the spot on the floor it's been sitting all this time, you put the fabric on, take your bag and then unlock the door “I’m going home.” 

You don't give him the opportunity to say anything else before getting out of the bathroom but you do hear a groan when you're rushing downstairs. 

Yeosang and Yunho are just leaving the kitchen when you trip on the last step and the host jogs the few steps to you after laughing. 

“There you are, Y/N. Listen, there's some meat already grilled back there but we're—” 

“I'm actually going home, Yun,” you cut him short “I'm not feeling that well. My plan was to swim a little before leaving but I don't think I can do it.” 

“Did something happen or…?” 

What happened is coming downstairs as he asks. 

“Nope. Nothing, I just think I'm catching a cold or something. Thank you so much for inviting me though!” You hug your friend quickly, kissing his cheek before pulling away. 

“Always…” Yunho is very observant but, as you always do, he doesn't press you with questions about what's going on “He's taking you home?” Pointing behind you, you don't have to turn around to get what he means. 

“Ye—” 

“No. He's having a great time here, I don't want to get in the way,” you shrug “I'll just get an uber or something. Don't worry.” 

Yunho frowns slightly, eyes moving from your face to over your shoulder. 

Immature. Petty. Rude. 

You're sure that's the way you’re coming off right now. But feeling anger bubbling behind the smile you give Yunho, you think it's better they make their assumptions instead of actually seeing you upset. 

You move to hug Yeosang as well and he murmurs his farewell. When you turn around, Mingi is no longer there and you don’t spare a look towards the floor to ceiling glass windows that separate the living area from the backyard because you're sure he's sitting right beside that girl again. 

As he should be. 

You bolt for the door, giving your friends a tiny smile before going down the few steps and into the hill. It's already dark and you're sure no uber driver it's going up this hill for the tip you're able to offer them, so you figure your best shot is to go down and try to find a cab on the main street. 

The light from your phone illuminates your scowl as you walk. Past the bushes and the trees and the lines of parallel parked cars where Mingi’s Lexus is. 

You don't notice him there until he opens the backdoor to block your step. 

“Get in the car, I'm taking you home.” 

Closing the door he just opened to stop you, you shake your head. 

“I told you I'm getting a ride and—”

“I don't give a fuck. Get in the car.” And then he's opening his door and closing it so fast it gives you no room for debating. 

He's angry. Shit. 

You can't even see him through the tinted window to assess how much damage you have done, so you look down the hill one more time and wonder if making the run for it is worth it. 

When your phone lights up with a notification from Gyuri asking you if everything's okay and to make it home safe, you take it as a sign to round the car and get into the passenger side with an annoyed huff. 

The engine comes to life. You're not looking at him but at the trees until the leaves start showing the building lights in-between them and soon you're on the main road. 

You can't even ask him to turn the radio on. Stubborn, you refuse to let the anger inside of you dissipate in fear of shame taking over. It's better being angry than being ashamed, at least in this exact moment because you can practically feel Mingi's anger through the silent treatment. 

But you need to say something. The silence is suffocating and the street is surprisingly empty so you can't distract yourself with anything. 

“You shouldn't have bothered.” 

“I am bothered. You bothered me.” 

Clenching your jaw, you turn to him in disbelief “I told you to stay at the goddamn party so we can fix this tomorrow but I bothered you?”

“Did I stutter or something?” 

“No, you're just not making any fucking sense!” 

“Yeah, fuck this,” you see him look around, biting the inside of his cheek like he's holding his words in “We're fixing this right now.” 

The car makes a harsh turn and you have to grab the door for support. 

“Mingi!” He's not listening to you anymore. His hard gaze stays on the road, it feels like forever before he pulls into a somewhat empty parking lot and when the vehicle stops you go to open the door and get the fuck away from him before you two kill eachother inside this car. 

That's an exaggeration but with the way he turns off the car and unbuckles his seatbelt, you know your pride doesn't stand a chance. 

The summer breeze briefly hits your face before his hand is on yours, closing the door and preventing you from, once again, escaping the situation. 

Frustrated, you let out a loud groan “What the fuck is your problem?!” 

“I don't know, Y/N! But I'll tell you what your problem is, alright?” he chuckles. It's a humorless sound, his face painted in something you've never seen before “Your problem is that you assume you know what everyone else is feeling and you assume you're right. But intuition can only get you so far, love, so I need you to take your head out of your ass and think logically for a second.” 

Flabbergasted, you think you murmur something in your defense but he cuts you short. 

“No! You didn't let me get a word out back there so now you're going to shut up and listen,” he pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes “You assume you're smarter than everyone else but you're actually so dumb. Dumb, you're acting very dumb and reckless, Y/N! That back there?” he points out of the window to nothing but you know what he means “Leaving— Scratch that. Leaving me and not giving me a chance to say anything back? Trying to go down that hill alone and in the dark? Stupid.” 

Staring back at him with watery eyes, you don't even know what to say back except a whispered excuse me?

“And usually I would beat up anyone who even dares to call you that but I guess all these years I've been wrong about you. Because if you were smart, you would've realized that Hanni means nothing to me and I mean nothing to her. There's nothing, she loves appearances and that's it.” 

You knew that already, but you're not giving your stance up. 

What even is your stance? Ah, right, he treated you like an envious no one back there and not like his best friend.  

“Yeah, I can tell you mean nothing to her from the whiny tone and the hug and the dragging you to meet her friends, Mingi.” Scoffing at the memory, your lips press into a thin line. 

“Well, she's a friendly girl!” 

“She didn't even say hi to me!” 

“So she doesn't like you, Y/N! Who cares!” you sure don't but, again, you just stare at him in disbelief and his open arms, palms to the sky “Do you care? Because I don't! And guess what? I doesn't fucking matter if she likes you or not or if she wants me or not because I like you!” 

What? 

“W-what?” 

“I like you! And I'll choose you over her and everyone else again and again and again until you notice but fuck it's so tiring. You're so fixated on why I let her drag me to her friends that you completely ignored me the rest of the time we were there and maybe if you looked at me more than once you would've realized that I was staring back at you the whole afternoon!” 

You let out an annoyed chuckle “So you were, Mingi.” 

“I was! I was trying to get you to look at me and notice how bad I wanted you to come over, rescue me from that boring ass conversation, grab my hand and claim your place right beside me because—” he pauses, resting a hand on the steering wheel and looking at you like he can't believe he has to spell this out for you “Because I want nothing more than for her and everyone to know I’m yours! I'm sure everyone already fucking knows too, except you. So yeah, sometimes, you're pretty fucking dumb for such a smart woman, Y/N.” 

Words escape you. They escape your mind, your reason and your pride shrinks until it disappears behind all the love you feel for Mingi. 

So that's what you are feeling. That's what you felt yesterday night when the tiredness couldn't drown out your thoughts of him and all he meant to you. 

Love, love, love. In all its forms, in all its possible scenarios. Your heart burns for it and you used to think that your hopeless romantic desires began and died with the movies you tend to see and the books you tend to read, that it was impossible to feel this way for anyone but there he is, chest heaving in the yellow interior light, waiting for you to say something back. 

“And I realize that before yesterday I showed no interest in you but believe me when I say that I—” 

Shakily, you interrupt him with whispered words, heart soaring and hands reaching out to cup his beautiful face “Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.” 

When you kiss him, you make sure to pour out everything you couldn't say a minute ago into it. 

When he kisses you back with the same feeling, it crosses your mind that he already forgave you. 

And when he grabs your waist and drags you over the break handle and the transmission to collide his chest against yours and drag his tongue along the seam of your bottom lip, you think that, for the first time ever, you have to tell him he's right. 

You are stupid. Stupid for not realizing it sooner, stupid for confusing his longing stares for something platonic, stupid for thinking you could wait until tomorrow to tell him he has the right to see and be with anyone he wants to because this is it. 

This. The way your entire body comes alive when he sighs into your mouth and groans at the way your knee opens up his legs to make room for you on his side of the car and partially on his lap. The way his thumbs run through your cheeks and dry the tears you didn't even feel falling down. The way your heart jumps frantically and the way its beats could get confused by his because you're so close. 

Suddenly and unexpectedly, you can't recall a time Mingi didn't make you feel this exact same way. It's overwhelming, it expands through you like a fire and it knocks the remaining air out of your lungs enough for you to pull away and rest your forehead against his, shaky breaths tangling together and fingers grasping the neck of his shirt in an attempt to ground yourself. 

You sniffle, incapable of not feeling emotional over his confession and your realization “I'm sorry, Mingi. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for treating you that way I was… I behaved like…” 

“An ass.” He nods and you look at him with the ghost of a smile tugging at your lips. 

“Yeah,” you nod as well “I was an ass. A jealous ass.” 

“I know, love.” He whispers, eyes moving on your face before his lips are on yours again, briefly, sweetly, even if you don't feel like you deserve it “You tend to forget that I know you, hm? That I've seen you jealous before? You were an ass back then, too.” 

“Okay! Okay, stop calling me an ass, I get it.” 

“I'm sorry for waiting for you to do something when you didn't even… I guess you didn't know, right? The way I feel about you?” 

“I know now,” you whisper back, nudging your nose against his and then putting some distance so you can see him better “I feel the same way, by the way. We're shit at communicating, apparently, so I'll just tell you now that—” 

His lips are on yours again and he's giggling against them and shaking his head when he pulls away. Brown eyes search for yours and you're not sure what he's looking in them but he seems to find it, his muscles relaxing against the leather of his seat seconds later. 

So you kiss him again. And again and again until your back starts hurting and the steering wheel is pressed uncomfortably against it, forcing you to shift on his hold. 

“Let me… Wait.” He lets you go to pull his seat back and then closes his legs, forcing your knee to fall on his other side so you can fully straddle his lap “That's better. Now come here.” And then he’s grabbing the back of your neck and stealing your breath away again with another kiss.

The tension shifts right then. When he can fully feel you pressing up against him and when a noise escapes you once his hands drop and give your bare legs the attention you didn't even know you were craving. 

You thought a second ago that the sweet kisses would stop once you were both sated with the sweet aftermath of all the yelling and confessing but now you don't want it to stop. 

There's a lot to catch up on, a lot of missed time you need to make up for. 

You still want to make him feel good. The sparks from yesterday come alive again and soon you're yanking the strands of dark hair with your fingers and letting your mouth explore the skin of his neck. When you sink your teeth into his skin, he lets out the same noise he did the night before and you smile against the mark you just made. 

His lips find your shoulder and he breathes hard into it once your hips start moving at their own accord, slowly yet firmly, the pad of his fingers digging hard on your thighs until you break away from his neck to focus on his face again. 

“This goddamn dress, love.” 

Humming, you caress his red cheek with your lips “What about it?” 

“Been thinking about it all day…” 

“It worked, by the way.” 

“Woo?” 

“Mhm. Distracted him so he didn't throw me in the pool right away.” 

“And Jongho?” 

“Probably plotting against me right now.” 

He laughs softly into your skin “Probably.” 

Chuckling as well, you stop your movements and take in how he looks. Gone, a little too fucked up from just making out, lips swollen and eyes clouded with something you're getting too familiar with, too quick. 

“Worked on you, too.” 

He smiles and shrugs, letting his head drop into the headrest “You look good in everything, love. It doesn't really matter what you wear.” 

“Oh?” 

A firm hand trails up your body, slowly, from you leg to your hip, your waist to the side of your breasts and your until it cops your face with affection you never imagined you would experience. 

“I have always thought you are the most beautiful girl to ever exist.” 

This is it. 

Leaning into his touch, your lips connect to the palm of the hand holding you before you lean forward again. 

“I love you, Mingi.” 

He doesn't seem surprised by your confession and you're glad he knows. It doesn't really matter if its too soon, if you even mean it in a romantic way or not, the love you have for him transcends all labels. 

“I love you too, Y/N.”

And his does too. 

You kiss him until it hurts. 

He kisses you until you're gasping and your body is pleading for more. 

The both of you kiss each other until you're sure nothing else will replace the taste of one another, that it will linger forever even if your paths stop crossing at any point in time. 

It feels like you're trapped somewhere where the clock doesn't tick at all, where you can take your time exploring him with your mouth and your hands. 

And then it doesn't. 

The fabric of the dress starts bothering you, his tight shirt is suddenly not tight enough and the hardness steadily growing and pressing into your core is screaming for attention you can't give him with all these clothes on the way. 

He feels it too, fingers tracing the hem of your dress for the second time today and then they're under it, pulling at the fabric up until it bunches on your waist. 

You're still wearing the swimsuit he helped you put on earlier but it does little to conceal how affected you are. Looking down, you're not even ashamed of it when he follows your eyes and let his linger on the patch of wetness darkening the color of the bottoms. 

Still, he moves his hands upwards again and soon you're struggling to get the dress off, considering you're almost bumping the roof of the car when you straighten your spine to do so. 

“Wanna know what crossed my mind when I saw you in the bathroom?” 

When it's finally off, he immediately goes for it: His index tracing your collarbone and slowly descending, his short nail dragging against your skin before the rest of his fingers join, right in between your breasts, where there's fabric holding together the top of the swimsuit. 

He could easily tug on it if he wanted to. Instead, he ignores it and presses the heel of his hand against it, forcing you to lean back and almost bump into the steering wheel again. 

Unable to speak and panting, you only nod as a reply to his question. 

“How easy it would be to get on my knees and eat you out. I thought: What if I just…” Using his other hand to mess with the knots that keep the left bottom part of the swimsuit together, he demonstrates what he means without actually doing it, his eyes following the motions “Undo these, get on my knees and make her come all over my face?” 

“Fuck, Mingi…” 

“You would like that, wouldn't you?” He smirks without actually looking at you, the hand on your sternum traveling down against your skin before joining the other one, teasing the knots on the right. 

“Y-yes.” 

Maybe he can see it on your face, the sudden nervousness at the scene he painted before you, because he grabs one of your hands and brings them to his lips before drawing you close again “Please tell me your idiot ex-boyfriend ate you out when you were together.” 

Blush darkening, you make a face that gives the answer away. 

He groans “He's worse than I thought, fuck. Come here.” And without any warning, the back of his seat goes down until it touches the backseat with it.

Bracing yourself against his chest, because you went down with him as well, you huff out a surprised laugh “Go where?” 

“Up here. Let me teach you something tonight.” 

“Mingi…” 

“First, you need to make sure your hands are clean—” 

“Stop,” laughing, you interrupt his bad attempt at teasing you with the same words you used on him yesterday “There's no real support for me if we do this, where do I even—” 

“Knees here,” he motions the backseat and you could actually do it, but you would have to sit on his face instead of hovering like you imagine it would be more comfortable for him “hands here” he points to the grab handle and the headrest of the passenger seat and then straightens his spine a little, bringing his face closer to you so he can whisper right into your worn out lips “Turn the light off, I'll do the rest.” 

He looks like he's going to kiss you but then he falls back onto the seat with an excited smile curving his lips. 

What a tease. 

So of course you turn off the light and prop yourself up into the position he wants to. It's challenging, the car is not that small but it feels like it is and you very much would rather do this on a bed, spare his back and yours in the process, but excitement also runs through your body and your brain stops making up excuses for why should deny yourself of the pleasure of Mingi using his mouth to make you see stars the second his fingers undo the knots and peel the bottom half of your swimsuit off your body with ease. 

Lips trailing up your inner thighs and hands on each side of them, holding you in a secure position, Mingi doesn't tease you much before attaching his mouth to your heat and your subconsciousness flies out the window when his tongue flicks your clit. 

You look down at him and the sight of him enjoying himself has you beaming, the warmth spreads through you and the zeroes on your pussy. You don't even try to quiet down your moans, completely forgetting that you're in a public parking lot that can fill up at any second. 

But paying no mind to it either, Mingi also moans encouragingly into your wet folds when your hips move a little, chasing that high. 

He shifts his focus to your entrance, his tongue working itself into you and when you move your hips again at the feeling, his nose bumps into your clit in a way that has you grasping the headrest for support, right hand slipping down and resting on the window while your mouth hangs open and your eyes shut close. 

“Mingi… Baby, fuck, I'll—” he adds his thumb into his ministrations, pressing it against your clit the way he did yesterday and it only takes a few side to side movements for you to come undone on his mouth. 

And again, the intensity of your orgasm takes you by surprise. It's obviously not as intense as yesterday's but it still got you trembling so you want to curse him out for being that good at what he does. 

He eases you into it, slowing his mouth and you only register that it leaves you completely when your thighs are being kissed tenderly. 

Breathless, you look down at him and catch his smile before his teeth are sinking into your skin and forcing you to hiss out a laugh “Good?” 

“Yeah,” you smile, climbing down from your position and hovering over his lap in an attempt to not ruin his jeans. It's very obvious he enjoyed it too, his crotch holding the evidence tight and probably painfully against the fabric there “Really, really good.” 

You want to get on your knees and return the favor, make him squirm in pleasure, but the space is not working in your favor. So even though your thighs are hurting and sweat is dripping down your neck, you start working on the button and zipper of his jeans before he sits up.

He wants to say something, but your tongue is touching his and tasting yourself on it before he gets the chance. Clumsily, a little too far gone for your liking as well, you are able to get through the layers of clothes and let your hand hang over his dick “Are you gonna make me beg for it today?” 

“You don't have to, love.” 

“Beg?” you ask with a smile that he reciprocates “Or touch you?” your free hand brushes the hair out of his face, sliding down until you're propping his chin up with it, thumb tracing his bottom lip softly “Because I want to touch you. I want to make you feel so, so good, baby. Please.” 

He kisses the pad of your thumb and then takes it into his mouth, tongue caressing the tip of it until you're panting again and then nods. 

That's all the permission you need before taking him with your hand and pulling him out of his boxers. Taking your hand out briefly, you gather up saliva and spit right into it. 

Mingi lets out a noise at that. Interesting. 

Starting slow, you focus on his expression. Testing the waters, taking note of what he likes because, unlike him, you probably pushed to the corner of your mind every sexual conversation you two had before yesterday. You take a second to look down at it, the size is no surprise but your mouth waters at the image of you taking him into the heat of it. 

Maybe another time. For now, you focus on making him feel good with the little you can offer him in the enclosed space of his car. 

He mouths at your neck, choked up sobs vibrate through the skin on your collarbone and your top gets moved to the side so he can mark the side of your boobs as he pleases. It sets the fire inside of you alive again, your folds getting wetter when he rolls his tongue around your nipple and then throws his head back when you twist your hand in a motion he seems to really enjoy.

“Just like that, love.” 

To your delight, he's not quiet. He's loud, he's grabby, taking the opportunity to hold onto your ass and press down on the skin when you tease his slit and gather his precum on your fingers so you can spread it around his cock and your hand can slide easier. 

Movements get sloppy once he's close, he's no longer paying attention to you and you welcome it as a great sign, his hips bucking into your hand and he moves you forward until you're sitting on his lap again. 

The only thing preventing your pussy and his dick to touch being your hand. 

You glance at him and he looks back, probably the same idea popping up into his mind so you nod once.

The car moves as you two move around, to the back seat, the spine of his seat up and the entire thing moving forward to make space for him next to you, over you, on top of you once he kicks his jeans and boxers off to the floor. 

You reach out to him in a silent plea and he bends down to kiss you soft and moist and hot and breathy, sensually, with sweet sounds escaping both of you when you reach under his shirt and lift it up until he gets what you want. Discarding it with the rest of his clothes, your top follows it and the contentment you feel when his naked chest touches yours is unmeasurable. 

There's no real room to move around and there's not really any patience left within both of you, so when he apologizes when he moves his hips where he shouldn't and his tip brushes your entrance, you pull back from his bruising mouth. 

“Condom. Now.” 

He obliges right away, searching on his jeans for a minute or so and when he comes back he's smirking like he can't believe you “When I told you we needed to raincheck I didn't mean it to be like this. Bossy.” 

Even if you're punching him on his chest and giggling at his breathy words, you take the teasing with pride “You started it, Mingi!” 

Putting the condom on skilled and fast, he's soon resting his forehead against yours and kissing you softly again “I wanted you on my bed…” his lips trail down and the giggles die on your throat as he's kissing it, a moan escaping you “On your back or knees or riding me…” he continues in a whisper going down and down and down, giving your nipples attention before going back up and taking your mouth in his again “Making a mess on my cock…” 

He takes the opportunity to enter you slowly and you gasp at the stretch, wet enough so it doesn't hurt you but you're unfamiliar with him, with his size splitting you open deliciously. 

“F-fuck, Y/N.” Mingi leans back to watch you take him in and you whine again. Tilting your head back, you let him work himself in and you moan loudly when he almost bottoms out “Look at you…” 

You don't. You can't. He's pressing his thumb on your clit again to ease you through the stretch and it makes the heat pool in your belly like you didn't come in his mouth a few minutes ago. 

Slowly but surely it gets easier for him to rock his hips into you, mouth parting in pleasure when you remind yourself to look at him. His abdomen tenses when you run your nails against the skin there, softly, until you're detouring them into his back and sinking them in just enough to have him whining at the feeling. 

“Baby… Harder.” 

“Yeah?” 

Hips bucking up to meet his at a particularly hard trust, you reach up to him so he can rest his body weight on yours. Close like this, with the pace picking up, the knot on your lower half tightens and threatens to break. 

“You take me so well, love. Fuck, always knew you would,” you know he can feel your walls tightening around him at the praise, because he smiles and kisses you once before continuing “My pretty, pretty girl… Taking my cock so well…” he punctuates his words with the roll of his hips and you cry out, holding his face in between your hands, his eyes never leaving yours. 

In this position, his lower abdomen bumps into your clit and it's soon tipping you over the edge. 

“So good, so good, oh— Oh, God.” You're mumbling incoherently while Mingi keeps whispering sweet nothings and then the tension on your belly breaks. It takes three seconds of your walls pulsating around him for him to groan loudly into your mouth and come undone as well. 

The only thing you can hear is breathing, all you can feel is breathing. His against your chin, yours blowing on his hair when you rest your cheek on his temple. 

It takes a second to gather yourself again and when you do, you tilt your head back to give him a chaste kiss that he returns. 

“That was so good, baby.” You tell him and he smiles, nodding in agreement “I am sticking to the fucking seat though.” 

Mingi snorts and just like that the energy shifts back to the usual you. Only this time, you come back to it knowing that no one’s ever going to have you the way he does. 

He slips out of you, doing his thing with the condom and you sit up, looking through the windows and becoming aware of your surroundings for the first time since you got there. 

There's a car parked far away from you that's empty and the rest of the cars that were near it have left. You wonder how long this all took, because you lost track of time the second he told you he likes you. 

Chest still heaving and boxers now on, Mingi rests his back on the door and takes your hand in his “Is it dumb of me to assume you're my girlfriend now, love?” 

“Is it dumb that I assumed that's what I was when you said you like me?” 

“No,” he answers right away “not dumb at all.” 

Smiling, you nod “Then I'm your girlfriend, Mingi.” 

He beams at that and then he's crowding you again “Say it again.” 

“I'm your girlfriend.” you repeat, enunciating each word and giggling when he nuzzles his nose into the crimson on your cheek “I’m yours, baby.” 

Resting his forehead against yours, he hums in contempt “Good, because I've always been yours too.” 

“There's no way! You two... together? Guys… See, that would be me if I didn't saw it coming but I'm smarter and cooler than everyone here so I did.” 

Wooyoung's over the top reaction has Mingi throwing his head back in a silent laugh and you staring at the black haired guy, unamused and a little offended. 

It's two days later and, as usual, you're at Wooyoung's and San’s apartment hanging out. 

After putting your clothes back on and going for some well deserved food, Mingi took you home, kissed you goodnight and showed up the next day after class to break the news to your parents. 

Your mom almost cried. Your dad too, but for a completely different reason. 

In the end, they both agreed they saw it coming and when you told Mingi’s parents, they said the same thing and invited yours to have celebratory dinner without you. 

What happened in Mingi’s room after was worth missing dinner anyways. 

Mingi and you decided to break the news when most of the group showed up for movie night and you were nervous to see their reactions. 

But everyone seems unaffected by it. 

“I knew you guys liked each other the second I met you. Ask Gyuri, she agrees with me.” 

“Sadly, I do.” Wooyoung's ex looks at you from her spot by the door, where she's getting her shoes on. 

She winks at you and you fake a gasp, falling into your boyfriend's lap with an annoyed huff. 

“And no one told us?!” 

“Sorry, Y/N. We didn't want to get in the way.” Hwa is apologetic and Yeosang nods alongside Hongjoong but you gape at them like they betrayed your trust. 

“To be fair we didn't know till’ last week, love.” 

“She didn't know.” Gyuri corrects him and now you turn to her to give her the betrayed look “You were pining over it for six months already.” 

“I say it was more like nine but…” Hwa shrugs and sips his cup, giving the man holding you close a knowing smile. 

Oh, they definitely talked about it, huh? 

“Nine months and no one cared to fill me in, huh?” 

“I’m sure Mingi did—” 

“Wooyoung!” 

“Well I didn't notice.” Yunho interferes with a shrug and gives you a recomforting smile that doesn't work at all. 

San laughs “That's because you're a puppy that can't even tell when someone likes you.” 

“Am not!” 

Everyone, including you and Mingi, make a noise in agreement with San.  

“You're one to talk, though, leave the puppy alone.” Gyuri tells her ex's best friend and Wooyoung laughs at him when his smile drops. 

There's some story there you don't know. 

“Guys… Does someone like me right now? Be honest.” 

Yeosang is about to tell him something but Jongho interrupts. 

“Enough with the love talk! Can we start the movie?” But he's pressing play already, so the answer doesn't really matter. 

Gyuri laughs once and Wooyoung makes his way over to her to give her a hug that she enjoys for one second tops before pushing him away. 

“Enjoy everyone! I'm so happy for you two, by the way, not that these neanderthals would tell you to your face but I'm sure they're too.” 

“Thank you, Gyuri.” Mingi murmurs from behind you and you mouth a thank you as well before she leaves for the night. 

Something about her best friend having a boy crisis. 

You don't miss the way San’s eyes follow her until she leaves or the way he looks at Woo, something clearly worrying him. 

His best friend ignores him, though, so you confirm that might just be a little pissed off at him after all. 

“Tell her to text you what happens.” San asks Woo once she leaves and he rolls his eyes. 

“Mhm. I’ll tell her to stop calling us neanderthals too.” 

You smile “Well, she's right.” 

“Nuh-uh!” 

Jongho has to stop the movie and you see him sulk while everyone else is arguing. Some of them, like Hwa and Yeo, are siding with you and Gyuri. And the rest of them, like your boyfriend, are telling them off. 

When you turn to face him, his argument dies mid-sentence because he stops to smile at you. He takes your face in his hand and kisses you for the first time ever in front of everyone else. The group stops the argument to tease you both and you laugh into his mouth. 

A cushion is thrown at you and Jongho gets up to separate your faces before sitting beside you with a pout on his lips. 

“Can we watch the goddamn movie?!” 

You're the happiest you've ever been.

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[mickyschumacher]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after seeing you with play with some young fans you and charles meet on the streets of monaco, charles can't get his mind off having his own. or in which, charles has got a case of the baby fever. 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: established relationship, fluff, 18+ (minors DNI), unprotected sex (wrap it if u don't want babies), breeding kink (obvi), charles meeting the bare minimum requirement to be a good human (lmao), slight lactation kink, mutual orgasms, handjob, pussy rubbing(?), reader is sensitive as shit, google translated french (my bad to the french speakers), a questionable perversion of having children that always comes with this context, also questionable whether this qualifies as baby fever but yeh

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: charles leclerc x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+

𝐀/𝐍: wrote this one when i first started if you can't tell by the mention of pedro and tlou! my absence explained in another post! ♡︎

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆

Charles loved his fans, especially Tifosi. After you, his family and friends, they were the most important people in his lives and constantly motivated him. Most of them were kind and sweet to him and loved and cherished you more than they loved him.

That's why whenever fans asked for photos with you, the both of you or autographs, Charles always accepted. He rarely refused them unless the fans gave off a certain vibe that rubbed him the wrong way; crazed fans or fans who liked you a little bit too much for his liking.

His favourite fans normally, however, were children. It was definitely pressurising to have that many children look up to him but Charles found it rewarding. They were so young and full of dreams that he could help fulfil. They always looked at him wide-eyed with their jaws open as if they had just seen an angel walk by, similarly to how Charles reacted when he had first seen you in the streets of Monaco.

Today was no exception. It was currently the mid-season break and you two were roaming the partially empty streets after having breakfast out, relishing in the privacy of Monaco. Halfway through your walk, you and Charles had bumped into some small fans, literally.

A set of 3-year old twin sisters and a boy who only seemed a year or two older had run to Charles and you yelling 'Charles!' and 'It's Ferrari!'.

Charles instantly was smiling at them, crouching down to talk to them and entertain all their bombarding questions that flew one after the other.

"Is the car really that fast?"

"Can I go in the car?!"

"I hope you win!"

You chuckled softly as Charles answered them with ease. You looked at the parents who also seemed to be equally as excited as their children. "Do you want me to take a photo for you guys?" You inquired softly.

The parents looked at you with wide eyes. "Can you? If it's no bother!" The father fretted, sharing a slightly alarmed expression with his wife.

You shook your head and smiled. "It's not a problem." They held out their phone and you took it into your hands, opening the camera. You hummed as you looked at the group. "Let's do three photos. One with the three angels, one with the parents and one family one?" You asked.

The parents were about to nod when the kids suddenly refused. "Four! We want one with a pretty girl!" One of the sisters yelled out, pointing at you.

Your mouth fell open while your body flushed with slight embarrassment. Charles grinned at you, agreeing with the children profusely. You gave a playful sigh and nodded. The children and parents began to poise for the camera several times and left the last one for you to take a selfie with them.

The parents turned to Charles, inviting him into a conversation as they apologised for the kids running to him all of a sudden.

You could hear Charles say it was fine when you felt a tug at the bottom your dress. You crouched down to the children who now crowded you.

The boy looked at you wide-eyed while the two girls poked your arm and asked "Are you a princess?"

You smiled softly. "I am!" You implored, "How did you know?" You asked in a hushed tone.

The children giggled. "Princesses are always pretty, that's why!" The boy said with red cheeks.

You hummed, pondering over the statement. You brought your hand out to pat the girls' heads and pinch the little boy's chubby cheeks. "That must mean all of you are also princesses and princes, hmm?"

The children cheered in agreement, giggling to themselves before discussing who was the best prince or princesses out of them all.

"I'm the best prince!" One sister said, putting her hands on her hips in determination. Her older brother looked at her almost offended. "How can that be? I'm the best. I'm older."

The other sister looked at her siblings dumbfounded. "Why can't we all be the best?" She sighed.

You grinned at her answer. "You're right! You are all the best. Equally. You know why?" You asked.

Three pair of big eyes looked at you with curiosity swirling within them as they shook their small heads 'no'.

You brought their hands together and held them in your palm. "Because you're siblings. You're family. That's the best."

The kids stared at you blankly, probably trying digest your words as much as they could at that age. The previous sister smiled widely, letting out a deafening yell, running to her mother. "Did you hear that, maman? We're all the best!" She screamed with joy.

You stood from the ground slowly, grinning at all the kids. "I did. We all heard that, ma cherié. It's true!" The mother chorused, giving you a thankful smile.

You smiled in response, shaking your head as if it was nothing. The parents and kids began to say goodbye to you and Charles, although the latter did so rather reluctantly as you walked over to your boyfriend.

You raised a brow at the dazed expression on Charles' face. "Cha? Mon amour, what's going on in that head of yours?" You hooked your arm with his, resting your head on his shoulder.

Charles blinked. "Hmm? Oh, nothing. Just thinking about those kids. Cute, right?" He breathed out, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

You smiled. "Very," You agreed as the two of you began to walk to Charles' car.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Arriving home, the two of you decided to lounge in your living room, not bothered to do anything else for the day. You had managed to put on the newest episode of 'The Last of Us', eager to find out what was happening next.

You and Charles laid on the couch; your head resting on his chest while he cuddled you from behind. You were intently watching Pedro Pascal after being besieged with edit after edit of him on TikTok. Charles on the other hand wasn't focusing at all.

All he could think about what those kids you and him had met earlier that morning. Specifically, you conversing with them. You hadn't realised since you were so caught up with them, but at one point him and the parents had stopped talking and tuned into your conversation with the kids.

Charles had talked to you about kids before. You both wanted them and although Charles always talked about having three kids specifically, just like him and his brothers, he would leave it up to whatever you wanted because at the end of the day, it was you giving birth, not him. He would prefer to have children when he was slightly a bit more older, you both had more control over his life, and obviously with at least one championship under his belt.

But after today, Charles was prepared to throw that plan away. As lewd as it was, the idea of you getting you pregnant and having a family not only touched his heart, but immorally touched his cock.

Knowing that he would have to ensure that his cum was entirely within you, stuffed into your cervix, and not letting a single drop come out made him feel feral. To make matters worse, you would look like a goddess when pregnant because hell, you were so beautiful now. Round and full with his child because he made sure to fuck you till you were overflowing with his cum. Or when your breasts became heavy and sensitive to his touch, leaking sporadically, giving him the opportunity to clean you up with his mouth.

God, he was an animal. The worst.

"Charles, what are you doing?" Your voice erupted into the air, breaking him out of his deep train of thought.

Charles blinked at your question in confusion before he looked down, seeing his hand traversing under your dress and up your inner thigh. He looked over to your amused eyes peering at him.

"Sorry," He let out with a sigh, rubbing the warm flesh of your thigh softly. "I just... I can't stop thinking about children."

You raised a brow, not seeing the correlation to Charles' wondering hand. "Children?" You iterated, running a hand through his hair.

Charles shut his eyes at your actions, feeling at ease. "Those kids today... make me want our own children. Now. I want to have children now."

Charles peeked his eyes open, looking at your astounded expression with a bit of fear. "What about our plans? What was it? Thirty-three, a championship, lives under control, and then children?" You queried. "I-I'm not mad or anything, Cha. Just curious. Why the change of heart all of sudden?

You had now turned to face Charles, knees on either side of him, straddling his lap as you became fully attentive to him.

Charles played with the tresses of your hair that had fallen past your face before tucking them gently behind your ear. "You would just make such a good mother, mon ange. You're so sweet and kind. You now how to talk to them. God, pregnancy would look so good on you. I can't stop thinking about you pregnant," Charles let out a small moan a thought. "You all round with our child, hormonal, sensitive at my touch."

Charles' fingers brushed over your neck, making you shudder involuntarily. You melted at his words. Charles thought a great deal of you. You weren't opposed to the idea either, in fact all of his words were making you hornier by the minute.

"You know what?" You queried, "I also want to have children. You would make an amazing father, Cha. I know you would," You softly said, pressing a brief kiss to his lips.

Charles pulled away, boring his gaze into you. "Yeah?" He whispered, eyes soft and full of lust and love.

"Yeah," You repeated. "A father of all three," You teased, giving him a small knowing smile.

Charles' eyes darkened slightly at your words. His hands rested on your hips, his half-hard on in his pants turned harder, pressing into your clothed pussy. "Mon amour," He whispered into your ear, making the hairs on your body stand straight. "Should I fuck a baby into you?" He pulled his face back, waiting for your answer.

You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, relishing in his words. "If you're going to fuck a baby in me, Charles, you better do it right the first time."

Charles groaned, grinning at your words. Staring at you with a fiery gaze, he quickly brought you down into a hungry kiss. His grip on your hips tightened while your hands became entangled in his hair. Another groan fell against your lips when you tugged at his locks.

Your heart slammed against your chest, beating loudly in your ears. Your skin was heated with Charles' touch ravaging all over you; grazing your arms, squeezing your ass only for you to press further into him. Your stomach surged with desire, feeling his clothed cock grind into you. "Fuck," Your swollen lips uttered out, high with an intoxicating buzz circulating your veins.

"Charles, I need–" You began only to be cut off by your own whimper as Charles bucked his hips up into you, setting a pace of stimulation with the tent of his pants and the gritty material of his shorts.

Charles smiled at the sight of your head thrown back and your back arching. "What do you need, ma cherié? Hmm? Tell me and I'll give it to you, my love," He sighed out, feeling his cock ache in its restraints.

"Fuck, j'ai besoin de ta bite, Charles," You murmured, feeling the temperature of your body rise with every passing second. Fuck, I need your cock, Charles.

Charles grinned at your use of French so early on. Normally when you were nearing your climax, you would lose yourself to all the French you knew. "As you wish, princesse," He stated. "Let's get this off, hmm?" He began to slid down the straps of your dress, pressing warm kisses on your shoulder. The sight of your bare breasts made him sigh in content, licking a strip from the base of your neck and down the valley of your breasts.

You felt a shiver crawl up your spine, feeling Charles' hands wander down your back while he pushed the fabric past your ass, hooking his fingers under your the waistband of your panties. You lifted your body up, aiding him in getting rid of your dress and underwear.

You settled back down on Charles' lap, pushing your wet core against his clothed cock. Charles nipped at your neck, dazed at the feeling of your pussy on him. Your hands reached out, rushing to get those shorts and shirt off of him. Pulling his shirt of him, you placed a trail of kisses down his chest. You could feel his lower stomach tense as you neared his waistband. With a grin, impatiently, you took off his shorts and the boxers underneath.

Your stomach churned and pussy throbbed at Charles' red, aching cock springing up, begging to be touched. You flickered your sultry gaze to your boyfriend, reaching over to put your fingers in his mouth.

Charles maintained eye-contact, lubing your fingers generously with his spit before he felt a shudder rip through him when you teasingly pushed your pussy to graze the angry tip of his cock.

"Vous taquinez," Charles uttered out almost with a whine after you removed your fingers. You tease.

"Don't be too sad, mon amour," You breathed out, trailing your wet fingers over his v-line before wrapping them around his cock. Charles sucked in a sharp breath as your hand began move up and down his shaft, mixing his spit and his pre-cum together, giving him a new, unique shine of his own.

"You wanted to see me pregnant, right? Full of your cum. So pregnant that everyone will know in a few months that you fucked me that good," You started, eyes trained on him while you pumped his cock with a tantalising grip. "We need a lot of your cum today. I'm just getting you prepared," You purred.

Charles let out a series of high moans, letting your words wash all over him and mix with his euphoria. His fingers reached out to your wet folds, stroking your heated slip with need. You trembled at his touch, bucking your hip against his fingers, increasing the pace of your hand on his cock.

Both of you moaned loudly while you jerked each other off, breathy sounds bouncing off the walls of your apartment. "Merde," Charles swore, pressing his head further into the couch, hips sensitively bucking into your hand as you brushed the slit of his cock.

He pushed himself, refusing to slack at your pleasure. He rubbed your pussy, groaning at the wet, glistening folds that were coating his fingers. You moaned, feeling a familiar buzzing pool in your stomach. "I need to," Charles panted out, covering your hand with his to stop you, "I need to..." He trailed off once again, pulling you closer to him.

Charles could barely think straight. He didn't know what he was saying or what he was doing. All he knew was that he needed to feel your pussy against his cock.

A guttural whimper escaped your mouth when Charles rubbed his cock against your folds. God, the both of you could get off just like this. He sighed out, eyes clouded with pleasure while he bathed in the warmth of your pussy. He could feel you jerk time to time against him, sensitive from nearing your climax.

You were was a sight to behold. You couldn't control your hips or yourself. You were just so receptive, automatically rubbing your pussy and clit up and down the head of cock. Your head falling back, supported by air while your back arched with lust. Sweat clung to your warmed body and your dry hair was now coated in a light sheen of grease. Face contorted with pleasure and flushed with heat.

"I'm gonna cum, fuck," Charles hissed out, partially angry that he already was about to climax but how could he not at such a view and feeling?

You blinked through your pleasure, remembering how you had gotten into this situation in the first place. You pushed your hips to him, hovering over his cock and sliding down onto him. You whimpered, feeling full with his throbbing cock in you.

Charles groaned, feeling your warm walls clench around him as you began to move your hips up and down. He watched your breasts bounce, making him flicker to that thought of them being full with milk once he got you pregnant. He would be selfish and have a taste of them himself.

Your pussy was a siphon, drawing and pulling his cock even further into you. Charles placed his hands on your hips, pushing you down on his cock to ensure he was balls-deep within you, fully sheathed. The breathy air was now replaced with both of your lewd moans and the sound of your skin slapping and sticking against one another.

"Merde, merde," Charles began to chant, increasing the pace of his hips snapping and rutting into your folds. Your hands fell to his own hands, tightening around them as pleasure bubbled at the pits of your stomach.

"Fuck, Charles. Cum in me, mon amour. Fais de moi une mère. Hmm? Imagine it. I'll be even more sensitive, my tits will be heavy and sore with milk and I'll ask you to massage them... everyone will know what we did," You moaned loudly. Make me a mother.

Charles's hips came to a halt, shaking with pleasure while he poured ropes and ropes of his hot cum deep into your walls. He let out staggered moans, feeling you clench around him and take even more of his load. Charles pressed his swollen lips onto your, kissing you dizzy while he thrusted out his high, ensuring his cum was staying within you.

Charles sighed out, pressing his forehead against yours. Realising you were once again on the brink of cumming, with his cock still in you, he brought his fingers to your engorged clit, rubbing the sensitive nub gently yet harshly.

He felt your walls grip him even tighter if possible as you began to convulse in his arms. "Jesus fucking Christ," You sobbed out, waves of your euphoric climax hitting you.

Christ, you were so sensitive, hips jerking up against his fingers, grinding to maximise your stimulation. He couldn't even stop you if he wanted to.

"Merde, ma cherié, cum for me. Yes, just like that," Charles coaxed, groaning as you somehow managed to get more cum out of him.

You let out a final whimper before collapsing onto him, feeling Charles' softening cock drive and push the cum deeper into you. You let out a low moan against his chest.

Charles pushed your chin up with his finger, looking into your eyes. He smiled, pressing a slow, soft kiss to your lips. "You did so well, mon amour," He praised, running a hand through your sweaty hair, getting a better glance of your face.

You gave him a weak smile, peering up at him through your eyelashes. "You think we did a good job?" You queried, voice quiet and tired. "You think we'll have a child soon?"

Charles grinned at you, planting another kiss on the side of your head. "If I didn't, I'll fuck you again and make sure that test has two lines."

𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[imaginaryf1shots]

Hidden | Max Verstappen

WC: 1.5K

Max x wife!reader

Summery: May has always a private person, but is he that private that he could hide his wife of 8 years and 2 year-old son.

Warnings: none

AN: This is a little something, while I’m working on two big fics

Masterlist

Max Masterlist

Max Verstappen is many things, and when people ask you to describe him they always have a lot to say. He’s a great driver, at the top of his career, he’s aggressive, he’s sarcastic, definitely has an unhealthy relationship with his skinny jeans. He’s also incredibly private, not much is known about him that he doesn’t want to be known, how he does it is a mystery.

You both value your privacy, and any post made of you before he made it to F1 was deleted the second there was a possibility he would join. You were both young, and you knew how much hate some wags get and you didn’t want that. While Max was off racing, you were back home finishing your studies, the moment you finished high school and you were both 18 you got married. A small wedding with only family and very close friends in attendance. Some of your families were against it at first, saying you’re too young, too naive but you never listened to them. Both you and Max knew what you wanted, and there was not stopping you from getting what you wanted.

You finished Uni and when Max moved to Monaco you did too, you met some of the drivers, the ones close to Max, you met some of the team that were also close to him. And you even attended a few races, but no one paid you any attention, thinking you’re just a fan.

However the last time you made it to a race was well over a year and a half ago, you gave birth to your baby boy last winter, and after a hard delivery and a long recovery, where Max stuck by your side through it all. Your boy is almost 2 and he misses Max every time he’s away from home.

”Are you sure this is the right time?” Max asked you as you got yourself ready, Karel happily playing with his toys next to Max on the bed.

“I mean we’ve been married for 8 years now, and dating for three before that.” You point out and finish the last touches to your make-up. “We have a son and I want him to grow up seeing you do what you love to do, I don’t know when you actually want to retire, so let him see you do it before it’s too late.”

You walk over to your husband and sit in front of him with a smile.

”You’re right.” Max leans over and presses a kiss to your lips, that leaves you craving for more, Max pulls back leaving you chasing after his lips. The dutch driver laughs and lets you close the gap, your lips meeting for a bit longer, before you have to pull back or things would escalate.

“Don't forget your ring.”

“Already wearing it.”

Walking in the paddock with your son on your hip and your hand in Max’s turned a few heads for sure. It was the tack of the paddock, Max has a girlfriend and a son? There’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that the boy you’re holding is anyones’s but Max, he’s a literal mini Max, with the small red bull merch and everything.

”Oh my god! Loca.” Lando said seeing you both, your son wiggles in your arms. He loves Lando who he sees a lot when you’re all in Monaco. Lando is one of the few people who knew about you for so long and he’s seen Karel mere days after he was born. “Come to uncle, Lala.” Karel leans out of your arms and easily goes to Lando’s. “I didn’t know you guys were bringing him today.”

“We weren’t 100% sure.” Max explains and you give him a look. “Okay, I wasn't 100% sure I’d want to bring him.”

”Well, I’m for one glad that you did.” Lando said entertaining your son.

”That makes the two of us.” You say smiling, as Max pulls you closer to his side.

After Max is sure you and Karel are comfortable at RedBull, he goes off to do his round of interviews and media duties. And it's just his luck that, he's on the panel today.

And it didn't take long before he was being questioned about his family.

“Question to Max, you seem happier today, does that possibly have something to do with your ring and those that came with you today?” Max chuckles, he looks at his wedding ring. On the panel today with him, Charles who knows about his family, Lewis who has no idea, Oscar who has no idea and Pierre who has a suspicion but hasn't been confirmed by Charles.

“Eh, if you're talking about this ring, yes. My son is here for the first time, he's finally old enough to come.” Max is smiling but just because his family came means he's suddenly open with the press and will spill everything.

“You have a son?” Lewis asked confused the gossip hadn't reached Mercedes yet.

“I'm not over the ring, you're married?” Pierre asked, Oscar was looking super confused at the RedBull driver, he heard Lando talking about Max and a child and wife but he thought it was the other Max not this Max.

“Karel's here?” Charles asked, smiling.

“Yeah, I have a son, he's almost 2 and I'm married.” Max said as if he didn't Just drop the biggest news in F1 at the moment.

“You knew about it?” Pierre asked his friend feeling left out, Charles looked cheapish and shrugged.

“It was a secret mate.”

After the panel the drivers waited for Max to ask him some more questions.

“When were you married?”

“Did you get married because of the kid?”

“What's his name?”

“Why did you hide them?”

”When can we see him?”

and so on and so forth, Max knew that this would cause quite a stir in the media but he had no idea the other drivers would be interested.

”Okay calm down everyone, let the man speak.” Lando, the latest person to join the circle said. He wrapped his arm around Max’s shoulder. ”Let me answer the oblivious stuff. His name’s Karel, he was born during the winter break of last year, he’s a carbon copy of Max, and yeah, I knew about everything for a few years.”

Lando looked so smug with himself for being in the know.

”And you’re married? Never saw you wearing a ring before.”

“Yeah, got married when we were 18-“

”EIGHTEEN!!” There was a gasps and repetition to the number 18.

”Mate, that’s over 8 years ago.” Pierre said with wide eyes, he’s been Max’s teammate and he was married and he had no idea.

”Yeah, we were dating for 3 years before that, and decided to just do it.” Max explains, he was itching to get back to the garage and see his family. But he had to stand there for a few more minutes to answer all their questions, which he was comfortable with anyways.

You could see a few of the drivers shaking their heads as they dispersed from the circle in disbelief. The gossip and new information was hot, it will be all they can talk about this weekend.

You were out of his driver’s room, and standing beside Max’s car talking with a mechanic as Karel was looking at his dad’s car in fascination. It’s the car he saw every week on the TV.

“Hey.” Max greeted coming in and giving you a quick kiss, he took Karel from your arms and kisses his cheek. “How’s everything?”

”Good, Karel wants to get in the car.” You inform your husband, smiling as your son nodded his head furiously.

”Dada, car.” Karel says cutely and points at his father’s car.

”You can sit baby, don’t think you’ll see anything but you can sit.” Max says and places his child into the cockpit, RedBull cameras snap pictures and take videos.

”Future RedBull champion in the making.” You tease Max and grin, Max had this adoration look on his face. “You should get in and put him on your legs so he can see.”

Max does as you say, he hands you Karel, who you shower with kisses making him giggle and push your face away. Max gets in and you hand him Karel who he places on his lap, the child now able to see out of the car.

”Here Max.” One of the mechanics hand him the steering wheel, and Max puts it in.

”Dada, drive.” Karel says and takes a hold of the steering wheel, Max helps him turn it right and left, it’s. too heavy for him to do it alone. You take out your phone and also film this moment.

If there was ever doubt about bringing Karel, just seeing them making memories and enjoying themselves proves that it’s the right thing to do. There’s no guarantee for how long Max will stay in F1, the motorsport is forever changing and you’ve always wanted Max to make these memories with your son. And if Karel continued showing interest in cars as he does now, there’s no doubt in your mind that you’ll be back at karting tracks soon enough, and replete the cycle that you went through with Max with your son.

Max looks at you and smiles, you couldn’t help but lean over and press your lips to his, in a sweet and short kiss.

”It’s good that I can kiss you whenever now.” You comment and wink at Max before you pull back.

“Lucky me.”

Maintaglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life

[inkdrinkerworld]

Hiii i just saw your post prision Spencer post with sunshine reader and im soooo in love with it (and in love with him too tbh) could you please do a pt2? Have a nice day💕

spencer and sunshine!reader have set routines on office days and spencer likes flirting pt 1 of their story 🤭

“Spencer Reid, prepare to have your mind blown!” You announce as you walk into the bullpen, your Mary Janes clacking against the tiles. You’re in a skirt today, Spencer supposes it’s because it’s a designated office day- there’s only three a month, but every time there is one, you come in an outfit Spencer would never even dream of. 

Today you’re channelling your inner Elle Woods. He knows about her from Resse Witherspoon, but also from your innate love of the film and the fact that you forced him to watch it on the jet once. 

You’re wearing a pretty black skirt, a grey top and a baby pink blazer that matches the pink socks you’re wearing and your eyeshadow that he just about makes out behind your glasses. 

“With what?” He’s on his way back from the kitchen, your prized orca mug in one hand and his mug in the other.

This is your new routine; you and Spencer have coffee in the morning while you both work through your crosswords and then get started on filing away reports for the many serial killers you’ve either interviewed with Tara or put away with the team. It’s fun, and it’s always something to look forward to, especially on designated office days. 

These specific mornings, you have time for a game you’ve fondly named, ‘Making Spencer Try International Desserts.’

Spencer can smell your perfume, you smell like you always do- orange blossom, coffee and lavender. It’s intoxicating, the way the scent just floats into him with every move you make. 

“The season calls for it, so  I got pavlova. It’s a New Zealand dessert and I got it with raspberries, strawberries and a passion fruit syrup situation to go on top.” 

Spencer knows the informational side to everything in the world but he’s never tried some of it out, as you’d learnt on a night out for drinks, so you’d started the game as a way to help him get real world knowledge of fun things- the operative word being up for debate but he hadn’t objected yet. 

He clears his desk, making space for the two little boxes you have in your hand. “They’re a little sweet for breakfast, but you only live once.” You open up the boxes and Spencer is shocked to see the mini pavlovas and the fruit sitting beside it in a clear container. 

“Do you like these?” He asks, handing over your coffee to you and pulling his box towards him. 

“I do, but they’re more of a picnic food to share in my opinion. Like you need to be having a bar-b-que or a garden party to have the full effect of these.” Spencer isn’t surprised by your enthusiasm for the dessert- your little stories about every one you’ve shared with him is enthusiastic for how and when to eat them. 

You sneak into the kitchen and return with two spoons. “Okay, try to get a bit of everything on your spoon.” 

Spencer does as you say, a bit of the berries, the passion fruit and the shell of the pavlova on his spoon as he takes his first bite. You sit in anticipation, watching him chew and swallow like it’s the most fascinating thing a person could do. 

You try not to focus on the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows or the way his tongue pokes out to lick away some of the meringue at the corner of his mouth. Spencer catches the way your eyes widen at the action and suppresses a smile. 

“What do you think?” You busy yourself with setting up your own perfect bite, willing your body not to give away any of your fluster at being caught looking at him. 

“It was really nice, I like the different textures.” Spencer compliments, watching you take your own bite and letting himself smile when some of the passion fruit syrup and meringue stain your bottom lip. 

Without really thinking, his thumb comes to your face, wiping away the stain easily. Your breath hitches and Spencer feels it, his smile widening even more. There’s a moment where you both just stare at each other, your breathing filling the silence- you’re fighting the urge to lean in and kiss Spencer and he’s fighting the urge to lick his thumb. 

“You only pretend to be this coy man, don’t you Doctor Reid?” you ask finally, leaning back in the chair you’re in and crossing your legs. Spencer’s sure his brain short circuits for a moment, your thighs have been a source of his torture for months now, especially when you wear skirts and dresses. 

“You know you only call me ‘Doctor Reid’ when you’re flustered?” he tries changing the subject, leaning forward a bit to get a little closer to you. 

“You have a knack for topic evasion, Spencer.” he laughs, a soft, sweet sound and he shakes his head. 

“I have a knack for you,” you can feel your heart pounding in your ears, more so when Spencer’s fingers wrap around the arm of your chair and pull you closer to his desk. “Where’s your crossword?”

[whatsnewalycat]

RUTHLESS

Stepdad Joel Miller x Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Word Count: 5.1k+

Warnings: DDDNE, literally just a fucked up stepdad/mom's bf fantasy, could read "mom" as tess but I don't name her or assign physical features to her or reader, post-outbreak, reader is def over 18 but not by much so yeah age gap, NON-CONSENSUAL, power imbalance, unethical d/s dynamic, slapping, spanking, punishment, orgasm delay/denial, humiliation, degradation, face fucking, anal sex, little to no aftercare

A/N: Category is "That old man would fucking never... but if he did..." Please be mindful of the warnings and don't read if it might trigger you. Sorry, mom. Sorry, God.

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Within the secluded world of your big noise-canceling headphones, you scan through silence on the CB radio, pausing for a few seconds on each channel before moving on to the next. 

Channel 11: Nothing. 

Channel 12: Zilch. 

Channel 13: Nada. 

When you turn the dial to channel 14, though, you pick up chatter and start transcribing. 

Channel 14 7/17/22 19:56

—got a bundle of carrots today. Budaydas, onions, too. Want me to come by tomorrow and make some stew? Over. 

Got enough for the kids? Over. 

And leftovers. Over. 

I’ll be at Margie’s around supper time. Over and out. 

The air goes silent.

After a minute goes by with no follow up transmissions, you glance at the clock. 7:58. Almost time for check-in. 

You tune the radio to channel 32 and review your transcription. 

Many people speak in code, encrypting their messages in seemingly benign conversations. To the untrained ear, they’re normal exchanges, people making small talk about jobs and rations and kids. Goodnight calls and check-ins that use predictable inquiries to convey messages. 

—got a bundle of carrots today. Budaydas, onions, too. Want me to come by tomorrow and make some stew?

Most of it you can translate from memory. The drug traffickers that use channel 14 have frequented the same lingo for years. Likely because of the high turnover rate of personnel. There’s less confusion that way. Confusion in communication raises more alarm bells for eavesdroppers than using the same code words across the board. 

You flip through your cipher for channel 14, searching for budaydas, but find nothing. Scrunching your nose up, you say the word out loud, “Budaydas. Buh-day-das.” 

Carrots, onions, budaydas in a stew. 

“Oh,” you nod in understanding, then jot down your translation, muttering under your breath, “Fucking Boston accents.” 

(Someone) picked up tranquilizers, benzos (budaydas = potatoes), and opioids. The caller wants to meet up and trade as previously agreed. 

The rest of it is easy enough to interpret without the use of a cipher. You probably don’t need to write down the translation, but do it in case your mom or Joel need to reference the notes at a later date. 

There’s enough to distribute product across their network of dealers in Boston QZ, plus more to stockpile. They’ll meet at their hub in Area 1, Margaret St, at midnight. 

You exhale through slack lips, glancing at the clock as it ticks over to 8:00, then pick up the microphone and hold down the speak button. 

“Radio check.” 

A few seconds go by before you hear a familiar gruff voice crackle over the radio waves into your ears, “Loud and clear. Over.”

Your nostrils flare when you hear him. Joel Miller. The bane of your existence. Your de facto stepfather, only because you don’t really remember life without him by your mom’s side. 

This isn’t to say he’s a father figure to you by any means. The two of you never shared the kind of heartwarming paternal bonding moments you read about in books. That would require warmth and vulnerability, which he distinctly lacks. 

Once, when you were maybe 11 or 12, you made the mistake of calling him Dad. The way he looked at you made you feel like dirt. Fire burning behind his dark eyes, he corrected you with one stern syllable that taught you your place: “Joel.” 

You sit up straighter and take a moment to gather yourself before responding. 

“Did you get your message from Uncle Paul? Over.”

“I did. Over.” 

“How’s the weather in Kansas City? Over.” 

“Cloudy. Over.” 

Fuck. 

You swallow around nothing, then clear your throat and ask, “And Grandma, how’s she? Over.”

“Fine, just busy is all.”

You exhale a sigh of relief that melts the tension between your shoulders. Joel continues. 

“Anything new with you? Over.” 

Tapping your fingers on your notes, you answer, “Rumor has it the market is gonna be busy tomorrow. Harvesting time, I guess. Other than that, same old same old. What about you? Staying out of trouble? Over.”

It feels strange, having a casual conversation with him like this. Even if it’s just a data exchange dressed up as a casual conversation. 

There’s a long pause, then he says, “Fine, yeah. Well. See you soon. Over ‘n’ out.” 

Stiff as a board. Cold as ice. Joel Miller, everyone. Round of applause. 

You snort, rolling your eyes as you unplug the headphones and toss them on the table. It takes a moment for you to re-acclimate to your surroundings. 

The dingy two-bedroom apartment is quiet and still. Outside, the setting sun casts the world in a dark golden haze. A FEDRA patrol vehicle roars down the street, broadcasting the curfew alert from a loudspeaker. Faint shouting from a few units down momentarily piques your curiosity before you decide it’s none of your business. 

You stand from the chair and reach your hands above your head, lungs expanding in a powerful yawn, then take a lap around the apartment to stretch your legs. 

Something catches your eye when you walk by the entry. A note slipped under the doorframe. On the outer fold, your name is written in a familiar scrawl. 

Your heart skips a beat. 

You pick it up and unfold the paper, revealing an invitation. 

I miss you. Come over when you’re done surfing the airwaves. XO, Bert. 

Warmth trickles down between your thighs. A smile spreads across your face. You glance up at the door, then to the CB radio and scanner on the desk. 

Indecision churns in your belly. 

You are explicitly forbidden from leaving the apartment while your mom and Joel are out on runs. A safety precaution you’ve protested dozens of times to no avail. They expect you to stay put and warn them if you notice any signs of potential danger. In return, you receive a cut of the profit and a roof over your head. Security, in short. Which is more than most could say. 

That being said… You break this rule from time to time, when the circumstances allow. 

Like when the Fireflies and FEDRA have been quiet for weeks and there are no smoke signals in sight. Like when you’re five nights into a seven day seclusion and think you might die of boredom if you don’t get the fuck out of here. Like when your boyfriend slips a note under the door and asks you to come over. 

You look down at the paper in your hands, re-reading the words I miss you. 

Fuck it, what’s the worst that could happen? 

—

Just before midnight, you wander down the hallway to your unit, jelly knees wobbling with each step. As you absentmindedly trace your tingling lips, still puffy from kissing, you unlock the door and push it open, then frown. 

The lights are on. 

They were off when you left, you’re sure of it. When you step further into the apartment, your foot catches on something. A backpack. This faint buzzing starts behind your ears as you blink at it, wishing it would go away.

Motherfu—

“Where the fuck have you been?” 

Your stomach plummets to the floor when you hear his voice. A thick knot of panic tightens around your windpipe as you look up to find Joel standing just a few paces away in the living room. 

He stares you down, dark eyes glowing with fury, and questions you again, “Where were you?” 

“N-nowhere.” 

The blatant lie sits sour on your tongue. His lips purse, so you fumble out another, “I went for a walk.” 

“A walk,” he repeats, tone disbelieving, “You went on a walk after curfew wearing that?” 

You look down at your clothing. A short skirt and tank top. Your throat bobs in a guilty gulp, then you meet his eyes again and nod. 

“And when did you leave on this ‘walk?’”

Your mind whirs as you try to come up with an answer. It feels like a trap. You try to calculate an answer that will provide minimal blowback. 

“I don’t know, maybe twenty minutes ago?” 

“Try again.” 

The electricity humming through you takes on a red, frustrated edge, and you snip, “I don’t fucking know, dude. It was a while ago, I wasn’t paying attention. Where’s my mom?” 

“Your mom sent me here to make sure you were alive,” he says pointedly, taking slow, deliberate steps towards you, “We’ve been tryin’a reach you for three hours. I got here an hour ago. That’s a helluva lot longer than twenty minutes, ain’t it?” 

Shrinking into yourself, you search his face. Jaw set, eyes boring into yours. Waves of anger roll off him as he approaches, and you remember all those rumors you heard about him on the radio. The fear you heard in grown men’s voices when they recounted run-ins with that bitch and her guard dog. 

You remember what Bert said about him: He’s fucking ruthless.

“You aren’t supposed to leave the apartment when we’re outside the QZ.” 

“I know.” 

“Then why did you?” 

Your heart thuds against your ribcage. 

Joel has never directed this kind of outright anger towards you. Sternness, sure. Contempt, maybe. But this is different. You’re in fucking trouble. 

There has to be a way out of this conversation.

You drop your gaze to the floor and ask, “Is my mom ok? Did something happen to her?”

“Don’t change the subject.” 

Righteous indignation straightens your spine and wills you to meet his eyes again, “I’m not saying shit until you tell me what happened to her.” 

“She sprained her ankle, but she’s fine. She’s safe,” he tells you, then takes another step forward, “Why did you leave?” 

You respond by rolling your eyes. 

“Answer the question.” 

With an irritated sigh, you search his face, then tell him, “You don’t know what it’s like to be here. Isolated for days or weeks at a time. I fucking hate it. It’s so lonely and boring, I feel like I’m losing my mind—”

“Oh, cry me a goddamn river.” 

You scowl at him, staring him down, “Fuck you.” 

“Watch your fucking mouth, you disrespectful little shit.” 

Red flashes through your field of vision, hot and angry and defiant. You gather the moisture in your mouth on your tongue and spit at him. It splats on his cheek. 

His face twists up with fury for one second before he charges, closing the distance between you. The impact pushes your back to the door with a thud. 

He grabs your jaw, fingers digging hard into the soft flesh of your cheeks. His eyes are hot coals, burning into you. The muscles in his jaw twitch, nostrils flaring, breath shaky. 

When he speaks, it’s through gritted teeth, “You don’t know what it’s like out there.” 

“No, because you won’t let me fucking leave—”

“You should be fucking grateful, you know that? Being here is a fucking cake walk. Your mom ‘n’ I have seen things, done things—horrible things you couldn’t even imagine,” he husks, searching your face, grip tightening so hard it makes you whine. “We keep you safe, and all we ask is that you stay put and keep a lookout for us when we’re gone.” 

Even if you wanted to respond, you can’t. The vice grip he has on your face renders your mouth immobile. 

All you can do is stare back at him, studying his furrowed brow and clenched jaw. Full lips pinched thin as he glowers at you. 

You notice how close his broad body is to yours. The heat radiating off his tightly-wound muscles onto your skin. His ragged breath scatters across your face and wafts into your open mouth. You taste the bootleg whiskey on his breath and your pulse jumps. 

Warmth drips down your spine and pools at the center of you, a horrifying sensation that makes you squirm.

“Were you with your little boyfriend? Hmm?” he asks, eyes darting around your face, trailing down to your body for a moment before returning, “That boy downstairs? Figure you musta been, on account of how you’re dressed.” 

You don’t say anything. You can’t. But it doesn’t matter, because it’s not really a question. 

“Abandoning your post to go out and get fucked, is that it?” 

A whimper slips from your throat as heat swells beneath your skin. 

He wouldn’t be treating you like this if your mom was here. He wouldn’t say these things or be this close to you. Knowing this, you understand that whatever is happening right now is wrong. 

You also understand that you like it. 

You hate that you like it, and hate him for making you like it, but you like it all the same. 

Letting go of your face, he demands, “Answer me.” 

“Fuck you.” 

Before you even realize what’s happening, you feel a sharp, hot sting on your cheek and yelp.

He fucking slapped you. 

“Wrong answer.” 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you retort, bringing your hand to the welt forming on your cheek, “I’m gonna tell her.” 

“Yeah? You gonna tell her I found you sneaking in at midnight, too? That you compromised our safety to go out ‘n’ get dicked down?” 

You harden your gaze on him, lips pressing together with disdain. 

“She wouldn’t like that, would she?” he asks, the smallest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “She’d probably kick you out on your ass.” 

“She wouldn’t. You guys need me.” 

“And you need us,” he counters, searching your face, “So what do we do to make sure this doesn’t happen again? Hmm?” 

A dozen inappropriate images flash through your head, each more lurid than the last. An electric, tingling feeling shoots out from the base of your spine and works through your extremities. 

You swallow hard and shake your head, “I won’t do it again.” 

“If I don’t punish you, you will. You’re fucking disrespectful. Selfish. You need discipline.” 

Again, a flash of frustration taints the world red. Crossing your arms over your chest, you scoff, “Just because you’re fucking my mom doesn’t mean you’re my dad. I am an adult and you are not the boss of me.” 

He sighs and takes a step back, planting his hands on his hips. His gaze drifts around the empty apartment, jaw gnashing back and forth for a moment before he returns to twist the deadbolt closed and grab your arm. 

“What the f—” you swat at him and dig your heels into the floor, but it does nothing as he drags you by his steel grip, pulling you stumbling along behind him into the living room. 

He sits on the couch and forces you to lay over his bent knees, one big hand securing your wrists behind your back while the other flattens against the swell of your ass cheek. As soon his touch leaves, it returns, a sharp snap tingling across your skin. 

Shocked doesn’t even begin to describe the chaos throbbing through you. 

“You’re right, you’re an adult. And I’m not your dad,” he asserts, lifting his hand. Your whole body clenches in anticipation. “But as long as you live here, I am the fucking boss of you,” he slaps your ass again, “Do you understand me?” 

It surprises you when you hear yourself sob, “I’m sorry—”

He does it again and again, hissing, “Yeah, you’re fucking sorry now, aren’t you?” 

Each firm slap he lays down is firm, unflinching. Ruthless. 

It overwhelms your senses and becomes the only thing you feel. The universe world narrows down to just his palm on your skin. The reliable and exquisite pain ringing through you. Smack. Smack. Smack. 

Every time he draws his hand back, you don’t think you can handle it again. But you do. 

Soon, you start to crave the impact. His skin on your skin. You can’t feel the start or end of it. It’s just him and you. Pain and pleasure. Sobs and moans, all blended together. 

Far away, you hear him chide you for not wearing underwear beneath your skirt. Then he asks, “Are you fucking enjoying this?” 

Too ashamed to admit it, all you do is whimper in response.

Smack. 

He sucks in breath through his teeth, then grabs the meat of your ass and rumbles, “You do, don’t you?” 

When his grasp on your wrists releases, you pull your elbows beneath you and look over your shoulder at him, watching as he spreads your cheeks apart and stares down between your legs. You’re probably shiny and wet with the evidence of your desire. 

His lips form an ‘o’ when he kneads you back together and spreads you apart again. The motion teases all your hungry nerves and makes you moan. It feels so fucking good. 

You realize then that he’s grown stiff against your belly, hard cock leaving no mistake. 

“You fucking like it, too, don’t you?” you ask him, your voice breathy and amused, “I can feel how turned on you are.” 

Slipping a hand between your bodies, you press against his strained zipper. His cock jumps at the contact, and he groans, dragging his fingers through your slick lips. 

“Oh my god,” you gasp, eyes fluttering closed as you nod in approval. He works your clit in steady, firm circles while you smooth your hand along the big bulge in his pants, letting out a string of whines at the bubbling pleasure inside you. 

You lose yourselves here, both of you squirming and panting and petting the other. So wrapped up with how fucking good it feels that you forget to feel ashamed. 

When he smacks your ass now, you croak through clenched teeth, “Fuck yes.”

He likes that you like it. You can tell by the way he groans and throbs beneath you. This knowledge inspires your pulse to pound and your muscles to tense. 

“Joel,“ you whimper, opening your eyes to meet his heavy-lidded gaze, “I’m gonna fucking come, don’t stop—”

“Did I give you permission to do that?” he asks, slowing his touch to a torturous rhythm, “Did I say you could come?” 

You shake your head and whine, “Please, Joel, please—”

“Are you sorry for what you did?” 

“I’m sorry—”

“Are you gonna do it again?”

“No no no, I won’t, I promise, I’ll be a good girl—”

He groans, tossing his head back as you frantically rub at the bulge in his pants. Your palm chafes against the stiff denim, but you don’t stop. You would do this for eternity if it meant he’d let you find your release. 

“Oh yeah, you’ll be a good fucking girl for me?” he asks, touching you just soft and slow enough to twist your nerves ragged, but keep your orgasm out of reach. 

“I will, I promise. Please, Joel,” you whisper, holding his gaze as your face gets all hot, “Please make me come, please please—”

“Show me you mean it.” 

He doesn’t need to explain what he means. While he takes off his jeans, you scramble off his lap and kneel between his spread knees. His eyes stay glued to yours as you slide your hands up his thighs. 

Batting your lashes at him, you wrap your lips around his swollen cock. He fills your mouth. He feels smooth but hard against your tongue. He tastes salty and heady and when you inhale the musk of him, you moan around his girth. 

Nodding, he anchors his grip behind your head and bucks his hips, forcing his dick down your throat. When you gag, he doesn’t let up, but thrusts into the sensation, grunting, “Fuck. Yes,” before letting you pull off, gasping for air.

You wrap your hands around him, all shiny and slick with drool, and pump his length for a moment while you catch your breath, then take him in your mouth again. 

This time, you sit up taller. You relish the stretch of your lips as you bob up and down. Savor the tug of his fingers curled tight in your hair. Memorize the sound of his huffs and grunts as he fucks your face. The wet squelching gurgle of his cock squeezing down your windpipe. 

“Look at me,” he orders, so you do. 

He’s all blurred from your watering eyes, but you can make out the dark irises and stay locked onto them while relaxing the muscles of your throat to take him easier. When you make an enthusiastic humming noise, he groans. It’s wanton and lusty and lights a fire in your belly. 

Joel has never treated you this hard or soft. His regard for you has always been callous. Closed-off. Indifferent. With your assistance on the radio, he treated you like a tool for survival. Before that, or even in-between smuggling runs, he treated you like some kind of a household pet he had little regard for. Your mom’s responsibility, never his. 

For years and years, you ached for more. 

When you were younger, you used to sit up nights and wonder if he’d ever consider you his daughter. He wouldn’t, though. He won’t. 

But this is something. 

Distinctly, you want to please him. Be the best he ever had. You want to sink your claws into his brain and leave your mark for years to come. You want him to look at you after this and feel a flicker of desire and self-loathing. You want him to think of you when he fucks your mom. You want him to hate how you made him feel. 

When you pull off him and start to work his soaked length with your hands, you pant, “Does that feel good? Am I doing a good job sucking your cock?” 

“It’s good,” he nods, lets out a groan that pinches his eyes shut, then meets your gaze again, “So fucking good, Jesus Christ. Is this what you were out doing tonight? Sucking cock?” 

“Not tonight.” 

“But he fucked you, didn’t he? That boy?” 

You nod, stroking him slower. His eyelids flutter. 

“Did he fuck your pussy or your ass?” 

The question sends a jolt through your middle. You recall the sex you had with Bert. Barely an hour has gone by since he pulled out of your cunt to shoot his load on the mattress, but it feels like a lifetime ago. 

“My pussy,” you answer, then gather a thick, hot wad of saliva on your tongue and spit on his cock. You spread it with a slow churning motion, watching Joel’s face twist up with pleasure. 

“Were you bein’ smart about it at least?” he asks, studying you, “We don’t need you getting knocked up.” 

“He pulled out,” you shrug. 

He grunts in acknowledgment, then sits up and pulls on your arm to join him on the couch, “C’mere.” 

You follow his guidance, lying back on the cushions as he strips off his shirt. 

The only times you’ve seen him shirtless were accidental and slightly embarrassing for both of you. But now, you notice how his smooth chest glows in the dim light. Now, when you drink in the sight of his big arms and broad shoulders, heat bubbles up your spine.

While you pull your tank top off over your head, he tugs your skirt down your thighs, asking, “You ever taken it up the ass?” 

You shake your head. 

His eyebrows jump a little like he’s surprised. A sadistic kind of smirk plays across his lips as he pushes your knees up to your chest, then spreads you apart, the head of him nudging at your backdoor. 

He doesn’t ask for permission. He doesn’t ask if you want it this way, or if you want him to be the first. He doesn’t even warn you about the initial shock and pain you experience when he rocks his hips forward and breaches the tight hole. 

You yelp and try to lurch away from the sharp pain, but he grabs you and holds you there. 

Sitting up on your elbows, you cry, “That fucking hurts, Joel.”

“Wouldn’t be much of a punishment if it didn’t hurt a little, would it?” he murmurs, disinterested, watching your asshole stretch to accommodate the head of his cock. 

The sensation is overwhelming. Like being stabbed or split open. At first, you hate it. You sputter and gasp and shake your head as he pushes himself in further and further. 

Then he pauses the invasion, releasing his steel grip on you to tilt your chin up and meet his gaze, “Just relax.”

His eyes burn into yours, making your pulse jump. You bear witness to his heaving chest and parted lips and feel him twitch inside you. Sparks sizzle across your body, but you still scowl at him. 

“It hurts, I don’t like it.“ 

“It’ll get better, you just gotta relax,” he coaches.

“Why can’t we just have normal sex?”

He grunts, thinks about it for a moment, then tells you, “First off, this is not normal sex,” he points between your chest and his, “This will not be a normal thing, you understand?” 

It stings a little, if you’re being honest. But you nod, “I understand.” 

Nodding, he licks his lips. He throbs inside you, hips jerking a little in reaction. This time, the friction feels good enough to make you whimper. 

“Second, we don’t need another mouth to feed around here,” he says, searching your face, “We’re stretched thin enough as is. You know what I mean?”

“But if you—”

“Pulling out can still stick. This way’s tried and true, trust me.” 

“Trust you,” you scoff under your breath and roll your eyes. 

“What’s that?” 

You meet his hardened gaze, feeling emboldened enough to ask, “Do you fuck my mom in the ass?” 

“That’s none of your business,” he warns. 

“So, what, you can interrogate me about my sex life, but I can’t do the same?” 

“That’s right,” he barks, “Know why?” 

In response, you glare at him. 

He takes this moment of bitter silence to drag his knuckles up your slick, swollen lips. The light touch branches out beneath your skin and makes your heart pound. You gasp a little, but try to hide it. He clocks it immediately. 

“There we go,” he murmurs under his breath, almost as an aside, smoothing the pad of his thumb in soft circles on your clit. Pleasure churns beneath the touch, hot and hungry for more. When you whimper, Joel’s eyes go wild for a second, then he says, “I am the fucking boss of you, understand?” 

You swallow a moan as he arches forward and starts to roll his hips. It feels better now. Good. Fucking amazing, almost. Electric and gooey. He fills you so completely with each thrust, you wonder how you can even breathe. 

“So if I tell you to be home, that’s where you’ll be. If I ask you where you’ve been, who you were with, what you were doing—you tell me the truth. Understand?” 

Nodding, you gasp, “I understand.” 

“You don’t get to ask me about your mom. You don’t tell your mom. You don’t sneak out to go get fucked by some boy who doesn’t even know what to do with you—”

“Holy shit, Joel I’m gonna—” you gasp at the pressure building at the base of your spine, spreading thick and hot and delicious across your body. 

“And you don’t come without my fucking permission. Understand?” 

“I understand I understand,” you cry, literal tears burning behind your eyes at the ache of trying to keep the ecstasy at bay, “Please can I come, please please please—”

“Are you sorry?” 

“I’m sorry, I’ll never do it again—”

“That’s right, you’ll never fucking do it again. Why’s that?”

“You’re the boss,” you beg, your voice so raw and pleading it sounds foreign. He pounds into you now, a wet slap that echoes off the apartment walls. It takes all your concentration to keep your pleasure contained, to not spill over the edges, but you hear yourself babble somewhere far away. 

“You’re the fucking boss. I’m sorry I’m sorry I won’t disobey you again I’ll be a good girl I’ll do anything just please give me permission to come daddy please please please—”

When he moans, loud and depraved, it just about breaks you, but you manage to keep your resolve long enough for him to pant, “Go ahead, let it go.” 

With a choked sob, you untether your pleasure and allow it to expand, growing hot and wide and unlike anything you’ve ever felt. Every muscle in your body tenses up as the sensation swallows you whole, then spits you back up, sending wave after wave across your body.

“That’s it, that’s a good girl,” he grunts, taking his hand from your clit to hold your knees down and fuck your ass hard and fast and ruthless.

It surprises you when heat starts stretching out from the middle of you again. Your heart starts to race as the feeling grows. 

“Ffffuuuuck,” you whimper, “That feels so fucking good—”

“I told you, didn’t I?” 

“You did you did holy shit,” you meet his eyes and nod frantically, “I love it I love it—please can you come in my ass?” 

“Is that what you want? Want me to come in your tight little asshole?” 

A feral noise escapes you, and you sob, “Yes—”

“Do you wanna come too?”

“Yes—oh my god, yes, please please please daddy—”

“Come with me, baby.”

You let the feeling overtake you again, gasping out, “thank you thank you thank you,” as it takes you strong and fast. Pleasure pulses through your body, causing you to convulse and strain against Joel’s grip spreading you open. He releases a moan from his belly and gives you a hard, deep thrust that he holds for a shuddering moment. After emptying himself inside you, he pulls out, falling back to his seat on the couch. 

Chest heaving, you prop yourself up on your elbows and study him. He pinches his eyes shut and catches his breath before meeting your gaze again. 

His expression goes soft long enough for something dangerous to flicker between you. 

Then he turns away and starts getting dressed. 

“Get yourself together, I’m gonna go get your mom.” 

As you sit up, you fold your legs into your body and watch him button his shirt. 

“Joel—”

He looks at you, searching your face expectantly, but your brain goes static and you’re not even sure what you were going to say. 

“This stays between us, understand?” 

His tone is firm but gentle. You swallow hard and nod, “I understand.” 

Nodding, he glances down at your lips, then back to your eyes. He rises to his feet to leave, but before he does, he leans down to press a kiss into your forehead. 

“Good girl.” 

[ NEXT PART ]

[81folklore]

heaven - OP81 - final part

pairings: oscar piastri x private!reader (fc: gracie abrams + pinterest)

summary: on the 2 year anniversary of oscars first win in f1, everyone’s favorite couple has a surprise

type: social media au (smau)

note: well this is it!! the final part to heaven!! this ending has always been the plan and im so pleased i can finally post it, this win has been a longgg time coming and i am super stoked for oscar!!! obviously not the best race (esp for mclaren fans) but we got through it and oscar won!!!! super duper proud of my mclaren boys and i cant wait to see many more 1-2 with them!!

i honestly cant believe this is the last part to this series, this was one of the first fics i ever posted and its crazy how far its come!! to this day i get notifs that people have found the first part to this series and it blows my mind how big this has gotten. i know ive been inactive for a long time but i hope by finally finishing this fic i will find love for creating fics again!!!! love u all🩵

heaven masterlist masterlist

set 2026

youruser

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 11,629 others

two years ago my best friend asked me to marry him, i said yes immediately. how could i say no to spending the rest of my life with someone i love so deeply?

today marks 6 months of him being my husband and i feel so incredibly blessed to be able to call him that, to be able to say that someone i love, loves me back just as much

but today is also the anniversary of my boys first win, which seems crazy now that he has many more under his belt but its true, its been two years since that crazy day in hungary and one that changed us forever

i have grown so much in the time we have been together and im so pleased i was able to do it with you, osc. i love you forever and always!

tagged oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri my favorite forever🤍

oscarpiastri marrying you was the best decision i have ever made

youruser my boy🌟🌟

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oscarpiastri

liked by youruser, logansargeant and 1,382,003 others

i cant believe i get to call this gorgeous girl my wife, and i’ll be able to do so for the rest of our lives

you had never shone as brightly as on our wedding day, however youve continued to shine ever so bright since and i hope it never goes away, seeing you happy and content makes me feel like the luckiest man alive

thank you for saying yes all those years ago and thank you for trusting me with your heart, ill love you forever and always

your osc x

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youruser i love you so much osc

youruser you mean the world to me

landonorris congrats mate x

logansargeant i miss you guys :(

youruser we miss you too logie!!! we’ll be home soon and we will take you to dinner!!

logansargeant oscarpiastri promise?

oscarpiastri we promise

georgerussell63 happy for you both!

frederikvestiofficial come back soon i think logans withering away

oscarpiastri he’ll be fine for a few more days🙄

logansargeant nu huh!! i cant last much longer☹️

user66 oh my god she looks gorgeous 🥹🥹

oscarpiastri she is

user72 YOUR OSC😭😭😭😭

user6 im never getting over them☹️

user91 THEYRE MARRIED☹️☹️😭😭

user10 remember when yn said they werent getting married yet because they still had so much growing to do,, look at them now☹️

user47 i feel like everyones being too calm, WE DIDNT EVEN KNOW THEY WERE ENGAGED?!?!!?!

user64 LIKE WHY ARE WE NOT MORE SHOCKED

user22 bcs they are written in the stars and we all knew this was going to happen!!! liked by youruser

user30 yn with all the little babes oh i cant do this🥹🥹 liked by oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri

liked by youruser, lewishamilton and 1,392,027 others

17.01.2026

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lewishamilton so happy for you mate, it was a gorgeous ceremony💜

logansargeant my favorite people in the whole world

oscarpiastri we love you

logansargeant 🥹🥹 (i love you guys too)

youruser my boy forever and ever and ever

oscarpiastri 🤍🤍

landonorris you guysss😕😕

youruser love you lan!!!!

youruser

liked by oscarpiastri, yourmum 11,483 others

a story told in many parts💐

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pinned youruser to osc, my best friend, my love, my husband i will love you until the end of time. i will hold your hand through everything and more, until death do us part x

youruser added to their story

story song added heaven by niall horan text reads: my 🏠

seen by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 12,472 others

replies

user72 OH MY FUCKING GODDDDD

user19 I CANNOT DEAL WITH YOU TWO 😔😔😔😔

user63 ur literally perfect for eachother wtfwtfwtf

user90 I FEEL SICK THIS IS SO CUTE

user6 oscar is so sweet🥹🥹

youruser the sweetest!!!!

[enwoso]

A fic where Lovie is extremely clingy and doesn’t want to leave alessias side and they’re going to film one of the tooney and Russo podcast episodes and alessia tries to put Lovie off to the side out of the way of everything like normal but Lovie is just sobbing because she doesn’t want to be left and so she interrupts the podcast and ends up being in the episode because they just keep filming

the video version gets posted and part of it is alessia just rocking Lovie back and forth and bouncing her to calm her down

STOLEN THE SHOW — alessia russo x child!reader

funnily enough i’ve rewrote this four times… this is the best one out of the four. not my best but ENJOY!🙃

grumpy masterlist

alessia could already tell that filming todays episode of the tooney and russo show was going to be a difficult one. not because of the topic of conversation, but because today all you wanted was to be by your mummy's side.

usually when alessia was filming the podcast it would be around the time of your mid day nap however today was an early start, the girls hoping to film a couple episodes in the short time that ella was down in london for.

"lovie, come on. i need you to stay here while mummy films with auntie ella and vick" alessia tried the soft approach hoping it would help to peel you from her arms.

"no." you mumbled your grip getting tighter as a few sniffles came from you, alessia sitting herself on one of the many colourful seats in the bbc studio. hoping that you would soothe, there still being a few minutes before filming was supposed to begin.

"hey less, is she asleep?" ella smiled as she pointed to you. alessia giving her best friend a look that said it all as she shook her head.

"she won't let me put her down" alessia whispered a small sigh coming from her as ella nodded sitting down next to her best friend.

"tiny?" ella tried as she tapped your small shoulder a small whine coming from you as you dug your head further into your mummy's body.

"tiny i need to tell you something it's really important!" ella tried again, as you peeled your face slightly from alessia's shoulder, the top of you head poking out your eyebrows furrowed together, ella being able to guess that there was a frown on your lips but she couldn't see it due to the lower half of your face being hidden.

"listen, how about after we've done all this boring adult things we go to that desert place that your mummy has told me all about and i know you love the waffles from there!" ella smiled as you were in the middle of thinking, but nodding your head slowly. you did really like the waffles from there.

"but you have to let go of mummy so we can do the boring adult things yeah?" ella added as you were now a little unsure. you just wanted to go back to sleep in the comfort of your mummy's arms.

you nodded slightly apprehensive but still loosening your grip as alessia made the move to sit you down in the usual area where you'd sit, on a beanbag with alessia's phone watching a series of cartoons.

alessia carefully walking away as if, if she made one wrong step that you would start to cry, ella and vick already say in their respective seats awaiting alessia to come so filming could begin.

alessia picking up her iced coffee and sitting down, the cameras started rolling.

"hello everyone! welcome to the—" vick got half way through her sentence before you started to cry, throwing the phone in your hand out and onto the hard ground. a small sigh coming from alessia as she passed her iced coffee to ella to put on the small table next to her.

alessia moving quickly to get you and soothe you. "it's okay lovie" your mummy cooed as you hid your head in her neck. alessia moving back towards the couch as she rubbed a hand up and down your back to soothe your small sniffles.

"she can just sit there y'know?" ella commented as vick hummed in agreement with ella, alessia looking up to the pair debating her options as she knew it would be filmed and while she didn't mind you being on social media she didn't want you to have a lot of exposure to it as a result of your young age.

"lovie are you gonna sit in your special seat?" alessia whispered as she felt you shake your head.

"no. wan be with mummy" you mumbled as both vick and ella looked at each other with a pout at your cuteness of being an all round mummy's girl. alessia admitted defeat and placed you in a more relaxed position in her arms knowing you would more than likely go back to sleep during the recording.

"looks like she's joining the pod for today!"

"hello, and welcome to the tooney and russo show with me vick hope and i am here with football's most famous friends! ella toone and alessia russo!" vick smiled making sure to add her clap and woo into the end of the intro like she did every episode. finally getting a good intro where you hadn’t interrupted or she hadn’t stumbled over her words.

"and for those who are watching on youtube you will be able to see special guest to the episode today and that is alessia's mini me, who is currently sat cuddling into alessia for those who are listening" vick explained as alessia hummed trying to get you to say a small hello however you were having none of it.

"i- she's drifting off back to sleep" alessia smiled stroking a finger over your cheek as your eyes were fluttering shut but then opening again a few seconds later.

"i mean i don't blame her!" ella giggled, as both alessia and vick hummed in agreement.

"yeah, we should clarify it's a very early recording session, it's seven in the morning" vick began as she also held a coffee in her hand.

"it's not great for me or for tiny clearly!" ella gestured towards you at your sleepy form as you were half asleep but were fidgeting with the string on your mummy's jumper.

a small laugh coming from both alessia and vick who both held cups of coffee in there hands. "no it's not great for ella as unlike me and alessia she doesn't drink coffee"

"but she is going to try it aren't you" alessia smiled in ella direction swirling the straw making the ice clank against the side of the cup.

"more like your gonna force it down my neck" ella complained into the mic. "yeah but it's a really nice coffee!" alessia tried to convince her best friend holding the coffee out for ella to try.

"less you do it all the time, and each time i never like it and it leaves a horrible taste in my mouth-"

"you've got sweets over there" alessia pointed out as you head perked up a little at the sound of sweets being on the go.

"what haribos at seven in morning" ella raised her eyebrows a small giggle came from alessia as she nodded. you tapping your mummy's arm as ella tried the coffee.

"me have a sweetie?" you ask with a tired look on your face as your mummy sat and thought about it for a second before nodding. waiting for ella to stop her dramatics before asking her to pass the sweet jar.

"has it got any better" vick questioned, as ella shook her head. "it's creamier but other than that it's rank-"

"tooney pass the sweet jar!" alessia tapped ella on the shoulder just like you had done moments ago, as she side eyed the blonde, "you said you didn't want any sweets before-"

"there not for me! for lovie!" alessia pointed out as you small smile came from you as you waited for the sweets to get to you.  your mummy handing you the jar as you looked up at her as she nodded her head motioning for you to choose what you wanted.

"i get two?" you asked quietly, alessia humming as she looked down at you picking your two sweets out, yes you probably shouldn't be having sweets this early in the morning but there was expectations like today.

"so i think we've discovered you both definitely aren't morning people" vick points out as both ella and alessia shook their head.

"no definitely not, i used to be worse when i was younger though. my mum used to leave me for hours before she spoke to me- but i've gotten better with age" ella smiled proudly at herself as alessia chuckled, ella definitely not being the best person in the morning to talk to.

"i mean i feel like you would think i was a morning person because of lovie but i don't know who made that stupid rumour that having a child makes you a morning person because it definitely doesn't." alessia complained, looking down at you to check you were okay. you still drifting in and out of sleep.

"yeah i can imagine your up early on a mornings no?" vick questions as alessia firmly shakes her head.

"some mornings i am obviously when i've got training, but i would say i lie in for me is about eight am. i usually get woken up by her jumping on top of me or lovie will just sit and tap me on the arm"

ella started laughing as both vick and alessia snap their attention towards the brunette, "no sorry but do you remember on england camp when-" ella started but couldn't get the rest out cause she was laughing.

"oh i wanna hear this now"

"tooney!"

"no, we was on england camp and alessia had fallen asleep and tiny wanted you for something but alessia had taken so long to wake up that by that point she'd forgotten what she was gonna ask-" ella managed to get in between laughs.

"but she was sat there for a least thirty minutes tapping you lightly on the arm and then alessia woke up in a proper bad mood cause she'd slept through her alarm"

"oh bless her, what is it like having your daughter with you on camp? cause i can imagine it may be difficult?" vick asked as alessia hummed into the mic, one hand on your back tracing shapes in your back as the other was still holding her iced coffee.

"i mean it can be difficult especially when we are travelling a lot and for her being so young it's can be hard but no the staff at england and arsenal are so good and always make sure that she's okay as well as the players" alessia commented, as she felt you kick your legs out getting yourself more comfy in alessia's arms.

"but all the girls love her so she loves being there. it always a struggle trying to drop her off at nursery as she would rather be with me at arsenal with the girls"

"and which you wouldn’t believe looking at her right now but she's a proper chatter box, less always says she gets that off me-" ella rolls her eyes, throwing a glare at the blonde sat across the couch from her. alessia shaking her head. "i disagree, i think she gets it from you-"

"every time i've seen her here she always so quiet and calm" vick smiles, shocked at the fact that your so chatty when every time she's seen you you've just always been so quiet but she had only seen you twice before today. you usually being at nursery when filming was taking place.

"oh she's anything but quiet and calm"

the podcast carried on, the girls talking about england camp as a whole and what they get up to in their spare time when they are not training, as well as answering fan questions about if they could be a kitchen appliance which one and why. that starting a whole debate.

while you say content as long as you were in close proximity of your mummy, one slight wrong more and you were whining for her. alessia soothing you throughout the recording, as you stayed in her arms.

the podcast taking another turn talking about nicknames as a fan had asked who had the worst nickname in the squad, the girls not being able to pick one. it leading to a question from vick.

"i've noticed that you have your own little nickname for y/n which isn't tiny like all the other girls call her. and I'm just curious as to why it's that?" vick asks as alessia lets out a little laugh into the mic as ella turns her head so she's facing alessia too.

"you know what i've always wondered this too-" ella points out, now realising that she's known you for years and doesn't know the reason behind your mums nickname for you.

"to be honest it's not really an exciting story as it may sound but she was born on february 14th which is valentine's day but also she's my little love so it just fits i guess and nobody else picked up on calling her that just me, like even my family call her tiny so" alessia explained as vick hummed, ella sat as she processed what alessia had said before humming understanding now the reason behind your nickname.

"but if anyone else apart from less tries to call her lovie she wont answer them. so that's probably why nobody else calls her lovie" ella pointed out as alessia nodded her head before whispering a true to back up what ella had just said.

"really does she not?" vick was surprised by that but could also understand why.

"yeah, watch-" ella whispered, turning towards you as you were playing with your mummy's phone on the camera app, you not exactly being an expert in photography more taking photos of your forehead or the side of your face. you just liking the feel of pressing the white button, as you were in your own little world.

"lovie, look what i've got" ella tried as she tapped your shoulder, you not paying any attention as you continued to play with your mummy's phone.

"right now you try!" ella pointed to alessia as she looked down at you, a small giggle coming from your mum as she watched you take a photo of the side of your face.

"lovie, do you want a snack?" your mummy asked as you looked up, nodding your head. stretching your small body as your arms reached up with your mums phone in your hands. being very close to hitting your mummy in the face as she grabbed your phone out of your hand.

"see-" ella said smugly as she looked over towards vick who was pleasantly surprised, "wow, they have such a cute mother daughter relationship though. it's adorable" vick pouted as ella nodded, alessia in the process of sitting you back on her lap with a packet of breakfast snacks.

it obvious to anyone watching how much alessia cared about you. the rest of the episode was filmed. alessia having to take the occasional break to rock you in her arms when you started to whine.

but when the episode aired, the comments were filled with wanting you to join your mummy and the pod every episode and even some wanting to do a episode dedicated to you when you were in the mood to talk.

the rest of the comments were filled with nice comments about how good a mother alessia was and the cute relationship she had with you and how gentle and caring she was.

the fans were hooked, you had said less than ten words in the entire podcast but as always you had stolen the show.

[moonlight-canavalia]

Sentimentality

It’s been a while since I’ve written and posted anything so here it is. I swear Sylus has not left my mind since I started playing.

Anyways here’s a little Sylus reassurance when you’re having doubts!

Warning: kisses, light teasing, uh implied cunnilingus that’s about to start at the end

If you prefer AO3 here!

Divider by cafekitsune

There had been a somewhat heavy feeling in your chest that you’ve been ignoring. You’re not sure where that weight is coming from or better yet— that insecurity . Does he really want you for the long run? It seems like it, and though mischievous with his words, he is very forward with his words and action. 

“Sylus, if something happened to me, what would you do?” You ask sprawled out on his bed while he’s getting ready for his meeting. In your mind it sounded like a simple enough question. Honest curiosity laces your tone. His hands suddenly stop, shirt only halfway done. Sylus’s face scrunches up in disgust at the thought of it. Before turning to face you, he makes sure to relax his facial features. “Are you planning to go away, kitten? Any mission worrying you?” disguising his worry in an almost casual tone “want me to tag along? You know I’ll go with you. Just ask, sweetie.”You're still looking up at the ceiling. Arms resting by your side lost in thought. “Hhhmm, just asking. I guess.”Sylus has moved to the foot of the bed, grabbing you by your ankles – pulling you towards him. Surprised by his actions you let out a startled yelp. He’s not sure what’s going on through your head, and he’s not sure how to ask you. While he might be brass, always getting straight to the point there’s something a little off about you today. Your smile isn’t quite reaching your eyes, not as talkative, lost in your own little world. So, he wants to make sure you truly understand and believe his words over all else. 

Dropping your legs at the edge of the bed so he’s able to stand between them he slowly bends down. Caging your body under his to stop you from getting away. His piercing gaze unsettles you for a second, leaving you frozen in place. In a flash his crimson eyes soften, filling with such a warmth that makes you feel like a soothing balm has been poured over the cracks in your heart. “I’d set the entire world on fire and spend the rest of eternity searching for any trace of you in those ashes.”  — He speaks in earnest, deep voice sounding hoarse. Words spoken slowly and low, as if he’s telling the secrets of the universe.  Secrets meant to be kept between you and the four walls of this room. Cupping your cheek with one hand while shifting his body weight on the other to not lose eye contact with you; he adds “Nothing, no one will ever take you away from me. Not the heavens or me getting lost in the nine circles of hell can rip me away from you. I will always search for you and I will always find you.”Lost for words all you manage out is a shaky breath. all as a response. If there’s one thing Sylus is, it is honest. This is something you know, but the profoundness of his words stun you. You feel like your brain is malfunctioning, not being able to come up with words. Eyes wide and watery, you can hear the rush of your blood in your ears. Your heart beats wildly like a trapped bird wanting to escape its enclosure.“I don’t enjoy these questions, sweetie. Especially coming from your pretty mouth” Placing both of his hands on either side of your head, he gently leans in for a kiss, the feeling of his warm breath ghosting over your lips. Giving you a quick peck, then you feel his lips brushing the shell of your ear “You’re mine and you’re not going anywhere”.Wrapping your arms around his neck you gently tug him towards you, so more of his body weight is on you. Just wanting to feel him close, enjoying the warmth of his body on yours.  There are many things you’d like to say, numerous emotions and feelings you’d like to voice. But it all gets tied at the back of your throat. With a lack of words to summarize it all a simple “thank you” escapes your trembling lips. 

Those words mean a lot to Sylus, it’s something he rarely hears. And with the way it fell from your mouth so willingly, no ulterior motives behind it only raw emotions dripping in sincerity; now leaves him lost for words. He hopes you know how much he adores you, how much you mean to him, how you’re the best thing to come into his life. How he’ll always defy fate and search for you. When the time comes he’ll sit you down and recount your past together. Not now though. For now he’ll just enjoy having you with him once again . 

Resting his forehead against yours for a few seconds he decides on staying in tonight. The meeting can be rescheduled, anything can wait when it comes to you. “Let’s just stay here tonight, Sweetie” he murmurs.

“I wasn’t aware I was even invited to accompany you in the first place.” you retort. A small chuckle rumbles in his chest. A sound you can’t get enough of. 

“You would think at this point in time you don’t need an invitation. You’re always free to come with me if you desire” Sylus says, like it should be the most obvious thing to you. 

Rolling your eyes playfully at him you quip “Well personally I prefer to be told that you’d like me there.”  

“I always want you with me. Are you not aware of that?” the silver haired male asks, looking quizzically at you. “Oh.” “Yeah, oh, sweetheart.” he taunted, with the corner of his lips upturning in that dangerous smirk of his. “You’d be wise to remember that in the foreseeable future.”Intertwining his fingers with yours, he pins your hand over your head. Softly he squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. A tender reminder, that both of you are here, together right now. In your mind, you know you both are tied together. There’s a pull that can’t be destroyed between the two of you, you can't make sense of it. It feels like you both have known eachother for lifetimes. Little did you know that's exactly what's happening.  Sylus has crossed galaxies, timelines, time and time again to find you. The bending of time or the fact that he's destined to lose you and find you again again is nothing. You are his love, the person his heart belongs to, he'll turn himself into a monster if it means seeing you once again.  Rising from on top of you he kneels on the floor. Once again snaking his big arms around the back of your knees and pulling your core towards his mouth. This is where I belong. Beneath you, you can do anything to me and I’d be grateful, you can command me to do anything and I’ll do it without a second thought. Ask and you shall receive.” He says while kissing your thighs.

[letstrip13]

୨୧ - cramps

summary: your boyfriend comes over to take care of you when you get your period

warnings: none, just enjoy cutesy bf!chris. not proofread!

word count: 819

author's note: day 3 of posting blurbs!! send requests for blurbs or fics!! also over 600 likes on my last blurb is insane, i haven’t gotten that many in so long tysm!! 𖹭

------------------------୨୧------------------------

you're laying on the couch in your apartment's living room, all curled up in the only position that can provide some relief from the pain. your period came this morning and by this evening, the horrible day one cramps had hit.

about ten minutes ago, you had texted your boyfriend, chris, to come over to cuddle and watch a movie. he wasn’t too far so he’d be showing up any minute now.

another few minutes tick by when the door you left unlocked for him comes flying open. chris bursts through the door holding an overflowing grocery bag in each hand as he calls out to you, sounding urgent, “baby?!” you sit up in a panic, worried by the tone of his voice. “i'm in here!”

he rushes into the living room and drops the bags on the coffee table, almost knocking over the scented candle you had burning in the process. a giggle slips out of your lips, the panic quickly replaced by confusion and amusement. “what's all this, my love?”

he looks up at you, an expression so nervous that you just want to run your fingers through his hair and give him a squeeze, but you let him speak.

“i- umm.. it's everything you need for your period. i know it's hard for you sometimes.. so i wanted to make it better.” the confusion courses through your mind again. you hadn't mentioned it when you texted him. “wha- how'd you know?” a soft chuckle escapes him. “you always ask me to come cuddle when you're on it.. and we've been together over a year, princess, i know you.”

“you're so sweet, i don't know what i’d do without you, chris.” his face breaks into his usual charming grin. “wanna see what i got?” he kneels in front of the couch where you're sitting and he places the bags in front of him.

first, he pulls a box of pads and a box of tampons, placing them next to him. “just in case you needed more,” he adds with a sheepish smile, “i hope i got the right ones.” “you did great, baby.” a relieved smile crosses his lips and he continues digging through the bags.

he pulls out a hot water bottle complete with a cute cover, pink with little red strawberries scattered around it. then he follows it up with a bottle of generic painkillers. “the lady at the store says these will be good for your cramps,” he tells you with a proud little smirk.

he takes out a pair of black fresh love sweatpants and the zip-up hoodie to match. “these because i know you forgot to get some last time you were over,” he pauses and digs around in the bottom of the bag and pulls out a pair of purple fuzzy socks with black cats on them, “..and these because i know you love halloween, even if it is a little early.”

you watch him carefully, hanging on to every word he says but you remain silent, words having left you for the time being. he takes a different approach with emptying the second bag, opting to just dump everything out in front of you. out tumbles a pile of your favourite snacks, chocolate, and candy, as well as six bags of honey bbq fritos which chris starts to ramble on about, “i was looking for these for so long. i went to so many different stores and gas stations this week but they were sold out every time. i saw them today and thought might as well buy them all-”

he's interrupted with a choked sob escaping your lips as hot tears roll down your cheeks. the thoughtfulness of your boyfriend's loving gesture gave you such an overwhelming feeling of adoration. but mixed with the heightened emotions as a side effect of your period, you can't help but cry.

chris quickly notices and rushes to pull you into his arms, doing his best to soothe your sobs. “is something wrong? did i buy the wrong thing?” a few slightly louder cries come out of you before you can hold it together enough to speak. “no, it's all perfect. you're-” you manage to gasp out between sobs, “perfect. i love you so much. thank you.”

you can feel a rush of air leave chris at his relief. “oh good. i thought it was about the fritos. they're not all for me, you know.” you laugh, the tears quickly being forgotten as he wipes away the traces of them on your cheeks.

“how about we cuddle and watch a movie?” you nod, getting comfortable on the couch and grabbing a blanket for the both of you to share. “sounds good to me.” you rest your head on his shoulder and pick a movie. he gently tilts your chin up to place a soft kiss on your lips just as the movie begins.

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[mybworlds]

Into your arms, the safest place

pairing: olderboyfriend!Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: You love Joel, you always have and you do everything you can to remind him of it every day.

Warnings: unspecified age gap, he's older than you, Joel is an insecure, back pain, use of you and Joel pov, not Y/N, the main character has female features, but no specific physical description so you can imagine her as you want. Established relationship, fluff moments, moments of daily life, hints of a sexual relationship, but in this one shot I'll be quite generic although some moments are precise if you know what I mean.

A/N: After reading a few posts about Joel, headcanons, etc my mind gave birth to this one-shot. I hope you like it, if you don't it's okay.

You love Joel. And he loves you. You both would do anything for each other. Even put up with things that the other finds enjoyable, but the other finds them indifferent. For example, Joel loves watching 80's movies, you keep him company, but only because you love to see his face relax and smile in front of some scene that he adores or makes him laugh and you enjoy the sight of his face relaxing for those films even if to your eyes they seem banal or unlikely. And you know that he watches reality shows with you on the couch just because he wants to see you happy by his side or watches stupid cat videos on Tiktok with you just because you giggle when you watch them waving your legs for fun.

You think about how far you've come together to be there, how many lies you've had to tell to see him, how many arguments and tantrums you've had with your parents because of your age difference.

You and Joel met at your parents' house, he had come to fix some things that were no longer working at home and that's where you shook hands and smiled warmly for the first time. You remember that you immediately found him sexy as hell, a little taciturn and brusque perhaps, but not to be criticized or despised as your mother did. At first you were around him just to follow the work he was doing, then slowly you started talking about his work, your work as a teacher, about your lives and you liked each other.

But, because of your age, Joel has always kept you at a distance in the hope that sooner or later you would meet a young man of your age rather than someone like him, a man of experience, a man with a broken marriage and a grown-up daughter who lives far away, but you've never seen other kids your age. Your best friends have also tried to dissuade you from the idea of being with Joel, but they have never succeeded even today when they ask you if you regret your choice, you always said that you love him as he is with his infinite merits and many defects.

Joel has always been afraid of losing you, he was afraid - and you're sure he still is - of losing you that you'd find him too old for you or too unattractive considering his gray hair that sprout here and there among his hair and beard every other day. But you always managed to reassure him and make him feel all your love and put aside his fears.

You managed to arouse Joel's interest from the very first moment, from when you were standing in the doorway watching him work and then you fascinated him when you transmitted to him all your love and your dedication to your work. You are a beautiful person, he remembers thinking from the very beginning. Your energy was clearly visible from the first glance and then, knowing you, he was sure of it. When you shyly confided in him that you had fallen in love with him, Joel thought it was a joke because there was no way a wonderful woman like you could want an old man like him. He later told you that he was flattered by your interest, but he pushed you to look at other boys, not at him. And you, in response, kissed him.

It wasn't easy at first because Joel realized that your family turned their backs on you because you chose him. He has always felt guilty about this, but you have never blamed him or reproached him for that. You chose him and the love you have for each other.

The days turned into weeks, the weeks into months and you still haven't gotten tired of him. Every evening when he comes home from work, you welcome him with a warm smile and kiss him happily.

This evening you get up from the table where you correct your students' homework and go to meet him, smiling and kissing him.

“You are beautiful, my love,” he whispers in your ear, kissing your lips first, your cheek then and burying his nose in your hair, while he hugs you tightly and feels you kiss the crook of his neck.

“I missed you,” you coo softly kissing his graying beard, his chin and back up the other side, “You are hot as hell, babe.” It's amazing how it seems like you can almost sense what he's feeling about his scruffy beard and his increasingly graying hair.

He smiles. He remembers how uncomfortable he felt in the early days when his few friends told him that he was probably having a midlife crisis dating a hot chick like you. He blushed, maybe they were right, although he loved (and loves) you deeply. For him you were never a passing thing to be forgotten in some time, as his friends told him, you were and are always more. He's so deeply in love with you.

“I prepared a dish for you, love,” you tell him wrapping your arms around his neck “I guess you didn't eat anything, right?” You ask thoughtfully and he loves that about you too. He makes sure to tell you this every day because he's always so afraid that you might realize one day that you want more, that you want a different person by your side, that he is not enough for you.

“You're still my wonderful, gorgeous girl,” he whispers in your ear. “I'm a lucky man,” he adds, gently kissing your earlobe and you shiver. He can clearly see the shivers rippling across your skin, and when they do, he places more kisses along your neck and shoulder. He loves hearing you giggle and holding you tighter. “How was your day?” He asks, nuzzling his nose against yours.

“Full, but you know I love my boys. They are always so full of creativity, energy, and then they are incredibly challenging. And. . . What?” you pause, noticing the small smile forming at the corners of his lips.

“When you talk about your students, your eyes light up.” he replies, smiling widely “I'd only go back to school if I had a teacher who knows what she's doing and who teaches with a smile on her face like you always do.”

Your smile becomes even wider if possible, “Why, what was your teacher like? Miss Rottenmeier?” you joke.

He shakes his head smiling, “No, but she wasn't beautiful as you are, baby girl.” You relax against him “Anyway, I was thinking that tomorrow night we could go out to dinner, would that be okay with you?”

“Sure, now let's go have dinner, I'm starving!” you exclaim grabbing his hand and leading him to the kitchen.

“You haven't had dinner yet?! Oh, poor lil thin’, I'm sorry.” He says as you sit down to eat "I'm sorry, I thought that considering the time you had eaten!" He adds sincerely sorry.

“You know that if you don't come back I won't be able to relax and eat.” You reply, biting with great gusto into the vegetable pie you had prepared.

The two of you talk at length about the new project that Joel is personally involved in, what he does, what he thinks he's going to do. His eyes light up and then you can't help but notice the passion and the energy he puts into talking about his work. It's something you've always loved about him. You remember when he told you about the fixes he was doing to your parents' house and all the technicalities he used. He probably noticed how you pursed your lips or the look on your face that you didn't understand what he was talking about and so he rephrased his words and from that moment on you never stopped talking.

You think back to that night of your first kiss, you remember how you were afraid of being rejected, but at the same time you didn't want to lose him. You noticed his ears turn red and his tone hesitant after your confession, but you knew what you wanted and most of all you wanted him.

He has always made you feel good, treated you well and with respect, he makes you happy in everything, even if he is tired after a day of hard work, just to see you happy, he would take you out to dinner. But you never asked for anything more from him than love and mutual respect.

You remember the first time you made love, you had already had other experiences, but in his arms it seemed like you had never done it, that you were still a virgin. You made love against each other's foreheads, your hot breaths mingling, your vision blurred with pleasure, even though you did everything you could to look into his eyes and don't miss a single expression of his. His hands gently cupping your face as he kissed you and thrust in and out of you sending jolts of pure pleasure up your spine.

“Whadda ya thin’?” he asks looking into your eyes and seeking your hand which he wraps in his and caresses it with a thumb.

“I was thinking about when we made love,” you answer smiling at him lasciviously "and when we met."

His smile becomes tender and his eyes sweet and soft looking almost like a puppy's. Oh, you love so much his well defined masculine features, his wrinkles.

“And I thought you never wanted to show me one of your photo albums! I'd love to see that so much,” you squeak, looking at him with doe eyes that you know make him melt.

Joel has jealously hidden them from your sight, not because he has something to hide, but because he is afraid that you might realize how old he is compared to you and that you might like him better the way he was. And so he always delayed that moment by telling you tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow, but now what excuse can he make up?

“Oh, c'mon, babe, I'd love so much,” you meow using a pleading tone and kissing him in a quick, gentle motion. You know he won't be able to resist. And in fact, he rolls his eyes and after muttering a stubborn lil’ thing to you, he wipes his lips and a little piece of food on his scruffy beard, he gets up and you see him disappear into the corridor.

A couple of minutes later, he reappears in the doorway with an open album in his hands and his gaze lost in a photo. Then he looks up and immediately finds your curious, “There it is,” he says placing the heavy tome in front of you on the table “I hope you're not disappointed by the comparison between what I was and what I am.” He says with his head down, putting his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

Your expression becomes surprised and sad because you understand that Joel is afraid of losing you and that you might find him less attractive today than in photographs when he was younger.

“Never.” you just whisper to him, holding out your hand which he immediately grabs, while you invite him to sit next to you.

His photographs show a decidedly younger Joel, the wrinkles are much less visible and superficial, the beard is less thick and sparser, the expression is more tender and shy, but his eyes are always the same sweet and deep, the same ones that made you fall in love with him.

“You are so beautiful,” you whisper “and I’m so in love with you and I’m so lucky to have you by my side.” You add kissing him softly.

“Boo,” he says rubbing his nose against yours “I'm the lucky one.” He says kissing you “And I will do anything to make you happy, but please, if you ever realize that you are no longer happy with me, just tell me.”

You know you're not going to calm him down by just telling him it'll never happen, so you say, “You know me. You know how stubborn and determined I am.”

He rests his forehead against yours, “I know. And that's also why I love you, my love.” He confesses to you, while you sit on his lap. You love feeling his hands on your hips or when he holds you tightly to him. Joel, even if he doesn't speak, is able with his gaze or with his gestures to make you feel like the luckiest woman in the world. So when he tells you that if you are no longer sure of your love for him, you would also like to tell him that no one has ever made you feel as special as he does.

“Oh, baby,” he groans, pulling you closer to his crotch, “if I didn't have this terrible back pain, I'd take you in my arms and we'd go to bed right away.” He confesses to you in a hoarse voice.

“Oh, damn!” You exclaim, moving away from him and getting up from on top of him, he looks at you puzzled, “Come on, get up, let's go to bed.” He looks at you with that lewd look and you roll your eyes and snicker, “Don't be so smart, come on.”

When you're in bed, you don't really know how long you can resist him if while you're giving him a back massage he keeps grunting and moaning telling you how good you make him feel. You are practically sitting on his ass while massaging his spine, shoulder blades and hips.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” he moans “I love you so much,” he adds in a whisper and you smile.

“Why do I give you amazing massages?” you tease him, continuing to move your open palms first along his back and then closing them into fists.

“Because no one has ever understood me like you do. With you, there's no need for many words. We understand each other with our eyes.”

“Are we soulmates or not, you and I?” You ask him and receive another moan of pleasure in response. “I’ll take that as a yes.” You add playfully.

He is so grateful for what you are doing. And when you say you are soul mates, he couldn't agree more. You are the perfect woman for him. Sometimes a little chatty, but other times the most understanding even without saying anything to you. He never thought it possible to find a love you. True love. He had always been convinced that his other half had been his ex-wife and that once he was alone, he would never have a real chance again. Then one day you came along and that was the moment he started breathing again. He thought that a young woman like you would get tired of him in a few weeks, but that's not the case. You are there for him, when he wants to vent about a problem, when he talks about his daughter who gives him a lot of trouble, when he wants to watch old movies, you listen to him, give him advice, support him and you watch movies with him, you lie down with your head on his lap and watch them with him. And he who never understood the meaning started following various trends just because you showed them to him and watching videos on Tiktok with you. And he started to love it.

“I love you, baby girl.” he says, caressing your legs in a sweet gesture. Your skin crawls as you continue. "I can feel it," he moans with his eyes closed as he continues his caress.

“What?” you ask leaning forward and placing a kiss on his shoulder, savouring the contact with his skin filling him with kisses.

He smiles, “Are you trying to seduce me?” He asks you, as you lean on top of him and brush his cheek against yours.

“I don't need to do this.” you say kissing his lips and he opens his hazel eyes “Never doubt how I feel about you, I love you and you know that in your arms I am perfectly safe. I love you, babe.”

He shifts slightly making you move from on top of him and lie down next to him where you cuddle and then make love again and again.

Joel loves the idea of you carrying his child, but he's afraid to broach the subject with you because you're young and maybe you don't want kids, maybe not yet. So he has never told you or pressured you in any way, but when he is completely buried inside you he can't help but think what it would be like if you told him you were carrying his child.

You moan deliciously in his ear his name as he makes you come and you intertwine his fingers with yours. Tonight Joel is making you enjoy like never before by giving you more than one climax. You are almost exhausted, some tears escape you and he wipes your tears away with his thick thumbs, whispering to you in a low, hoarse voice, “s’alright, baby girl, you're such a good girl fo’ me” wrapping you in his arms while you twist your face into an expression of pure pleasure as you collapse on top of him.

“I love you,” you say “Into your arms, there's the safest place”.

[theragethatisdesire]

aot men as dads - headcanon!! some 18+!!

includes: eren, jean, reiner, & levi

i'm still working on some full-fledged one-shots and parts of my series', but i'm nannying for the summer and have BABY FEVER. please enjoy my little headcanons of my fav aot men as dads <3

DISCLAIMER: some of this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

Eren

ok but eren is such a cringe dad lol

buys himself all of the #1 Dad! merch. he’s got mugs, tshirts, hats, all of it, and all of it went on his credit card.

10000% a girl dad. loves all the little dresses and bows; he puts your daughter’s hair in its first bun, nearly tears up when she points at his matching hairstyle and babbles “like da-da!”

you have to parent eren as much as the children. when you turn the corner into the living room where he’s supposed to be having “quiet time” with your toddler only to find that they’re buried in a pillow fort and eren’s signed his own name in crayon on the wall next to your daughter’s scribblings. “babe, we can just repaint it! she’s being creative.”

loves when you’re pregnant. after your first, eren keeps a calendar on the wall marking off the days until it’s safe for him to fuck you again, fuck a baby right back into you. already has a breeding kink before your first. develops a lactation kink after.

TERRIFIED (and i mean terrified) of hurting your little angel. has absolutely zero concept of “cry it out”; if he hears his baby crying, he’s sprinting into the next room, kissing a nonexistent boo-boo.

refuses to admit it but he has no backbone when it comes to your daughter wanting literally anything. she wants it, she gets it.

favorite thing in the world is matching outfits. favorite. “babe, where’s her green hoodie? i’m wearing mine today for the park!” “of course it matters, we have to match! on that note, where’s yours?”

lets your daughter use his hair to learn how to braid. usually has a few pink hair ties or glittery clips sticking out of it when you come home from a mom’s night out.

really big on your baby getting to see the world. drags you on vacation to any place he can think of, even as you try to explain to him that she can’t form any long term memories yet. “but baby, she’ll have pictures. how many kids in her class can bring a picture of them at the eiffel tower to their first show-and-tell?”

accidentally ruins santa and the tooth fairy for your daughter. cries harder than she does over it.

aggressively vets babysitters. ends up settling for a nursing student in the labor & delivery school who’s the oldest of seven children and probably more knowledgeable about child development than both of you combined, but he’s still suspicious.

wants to watch while you push, watch his baby come into the world. you’ve never seen a sweeter sight than eren in his scrubs, crying while holding your baby girl.

Jean

most people picture eren as being the roughhousing dad, but it’s jean, and i will die on this hill.

freaks out every time he drops your first boy while throwing him around like a ragdoll, but he’ll never stop because “listen!! he’s laughing!”. when it comes to the rest of them, he’s experienced enough now to tell the difference between a real booboo and an imagined one, and he simply brushes their little pants off caringly before shouting “now you tackle me!”

jean’s got no gender preference for your first, or the rest of your little brood for that matter. he raises them exactly the same, regardless: tough.

it takes him awhile to get used to the concept of babies’ minds. you’ve walked in on him having full-blown arguments with your shrieking toddlers several times. “what’s not making sense? if you let your goldfish ‘swim’ in the toilet, it dies, simple as that.”

plays “bad cop” for you because you’re terrible at it, but he’s always having to turn around and snicker into his elbow in the middle of scolding because your babies get the same little throbbing forehead vein as you when they’re mad

wants a big family, and gets it. you practically have to drag him to get his balls snipped after your fourth, him reminding you that “it’s reversible!” the entire way there.

the newborn phase is his favorite. he’s rarely home for any longer than ten minutes without scooping your most recent addition into his arms, squishing their little cheeks and marveling at their gurgling noises.

the kids never give him anxiety, but when you’re pregnant??? jean’s a wreck.

“do your feet still hurt, love?” “what do you mean you have indigestion? that could be the baby coming!” “of course we can’t have sex, what if we poke its little head?”

definitely the dad that’s got a delivery bag and a backup bag and an emergency third backup of the backup bag in his car at all times. the first week of your third trimester, he starts watching you suspiciously for any signs of labor, even though this is your fourth together. you think you’ve got it down by now, you tell him, but he won’t listen.

always gets the kids to work together on little surprises for you. every mother’s day they wake you up with breakfast, every valentines day your dining room table is covered in handmade cards, every birthday your kitchen is coated in flour from jean and four little ones attempting to bake

SO HARD to drag him out for a date night. he wants to bring them everywhere: the fancy restaurant, the couples' get away trip

jean's that dad standing in the bar, watching the game, beer in hand, with an occupied baby carrier strapped to his chest

wants to watch during delivery, but he passed out the first go-round, so now he’s content standing up by your head, trying not to turn white as you squeeze his hand hard enough to break.

talks you into just one more on your fourth’s second birthday. “they’re all so big now. don’t you miss it, babe? my baby in your belly? c’mon…” turns out he reversed that vasectomy without telling you

Reiner

another girl dad. hardcore girl dad.

buys his little princess all number of dresses and barbies, is confused when she’s more interested in the baseballs her classmates have.

accidentally raises the most tomboyish, toughest little girl. still babies her, and she hates it.

cries more than you do on your first date night out when you leave her with your mom. forgets to order his entree at the restaurant because he’s watching the baby monitor app on his phone.

definitely the best at splitting baby duties with you. reiner’s up before you most nights when she wakes, grabbing a bottle and cooing at her lovingly even as she screams. you always try to stay awake to watch him on the baby monitor, though, heart melting as his massive arms rock the tiny bundle back to sleep.

all the neighborhood kids love him because of his size. at every cookout, reiner can’t help on the grill because he’s buried in the grass in a little army of toddlers, led by your daughter, shrieking with joy.

always taking pictures. literally always. unflattering ones when you fall asleep breastfeeding, candids at the zoo, eighteen identical pictures of the lock of hair from her first haircut clogging up his camera roll.

can’t be the bad cop. literally ever. he just can’t say no to his little princess, can’t break her precious little heart by telling her that throwing her food onto the floor is bad.

takes your daughter to mommy & me classes with him

DILF DILF DILF. all the moms in the classes swoon over him and gossip about him when he’s not there; much to your annoyance, reiner never notices, insisting that they’re his “mommy friends”.

always sporting a little bit of glitter on his face or a sticker on his back from your daughter

coming from a fatherless background, reiner nearly kills himself trying to be a constant presence in your daughter’s life (you have to remind him that he has to rest too)

never misses an open house night at school, even if it nearly gets him fired. coaches all of her sports teams. literally almost cries when she makes her first soccer goal. actually does cry when she tells you the boy sitting beside her in class called her his girlfriend. full-blown breakdown on her first day of school, so bad he has to stay home from work.

the absolute BEST through your pregnancy and delivery. always cooking your craving of the week, constant foot and back rubs, stays up all night with you for the three days before the birth when you’re just too swollen and miserable to sleep.

holds your hand through the entire delivery, gets in the doctors’ way when they’re performing checkups because “i’m her father, i need to know what’s going on”

Levi

levi never pictured himself as having children, but when your little surprise arrives, blinking up at levi with his own grey, owlish eyes, levi can’t believe he hadn’t thought of it sooner.

very easily irritated with anyone asking questions about your home life.

when his coworkers ask for your newborn’s name, levi simply says “child.” are you two trying again? “why the fuck do you need to know?”

super overprotective. your baby waves at someone in the supermarket, and levi’s leaning down to explain (in words your eight-month-old can’t yet understand) stranger danger.

totally one of those parents that goes half-crazy trying to get their child into the top-notch, snobby preschool in town.

“we’re not wasting his intelligence on the public school”

levi grew up with basically nothing, so he goes all out buying the best baby products on the market. $2,500 strollers, researching “best baby toys for development”, the whole nine yards.

100% spends months trying to get your child to make a game out of picking up his own toys after playtime, but it never works.

has a meal plan for your child to “optimize nutrition” that you have to sneak around to give your baby little chocolates and junk snacks.

“why are there pringles in his playtime bag? they have no nutritional value.”

vets anyone that comes around your child, even other children. “no more playtime with that evan kid. he’s always got a cold or something.”

he’s always been a light sleeper, but once you have your child, levi snores beside them watching kids’ cartoons on the tv like you’ve never seen him, even drooling as his head lolls, arm tucked tight around your little one.

learned everything he could about labor and delivery beforehand

you almost killed him in the delivery room as he explained each medical detail of your labor symptoms to “reassure” you. he finally got the hint when you threatened to decapitate him.

he thinks it’s shameful, but watching you be a mother turns. him. on. 

wants to take you right there when he catches you breastfeeding, watches you read a bedtime story, spin your child around laughing. you’re just so naturally good at it and it makes him love you all the more, all that love going straight between his legs.

[aemondsbabe]

Oathkeeper

summary: aemond comes to winterfell to vie for favor and while cregan has his mind set on backing rhaenyra, you remain unswayed. will your indecision be his saving grace?

pairing: aemond targaryen x stark!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, brat taming, aemond is a little shit, choking, mild degradation, oral sex (f receiving), very lyanna mormont coded reader, aemond whimpers, he's down bad tbh he loves it, angst, allusions to violence but no actual violence, please no one kill me for the end lmao, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 6.1k

a/n: happy 3k laura!! i'm so happy to be a part of this collab with you and so many of my other fantastically talented writer friends! check out the full milestone celebration here and the masterlist will be here!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

gif creds to @aemondtargaryensource

divider creds to @targaryen-dynasty

🦋my masterlist

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

Icy air whips around you as you stand atop one of the many high stone battlements of Winterfell, eyes scanning the horizon; the grey earth and sky seem to meld together as one as the sun sets lower and lower. 

“It is our duty to hear them out, sister,” Cregan rumbles beside you, brow furrowed. Ice glimmers in your periphery when you glance over at him, the great sword strapped over your brother’s shoulder contrasts sharply against the deep black of the furs draped over his body, “If they come to us for aid, we must negotiate.”

The air around your lips turns to mist as you scoff, jaw clenched. Today, of all days, you could do without your brother’s condescending tone. 

“Negotiate,” you echo, pulling the thick white fur of your cloak more snugly over your shoulders as the wind seems to pick up, “They come with hardly any notice, with two dragons, and you still believe this is a negotiation?”

“Sister –”

“To call it anything but extortion is a fool’s game, Cregan,” you keep your eyes straight ahead, focused only on the horizon, when he turns to glare at you, nostrils flared. 

“Need I remind you that we are sworn to House Targaryen? That we have been for –”

“Which House Targaryen?” You swiftly counter, cutting your gaze to his with a biting scowl of your own. The wind gusts again yet you pay it no mind, hardly noticing when a shadow passes overhead. 

An all encompassing roar seems to vibrate the very air around you and you whip your head up just in time to see a behemoth of a beast duck down below the clouds, followed swiftly by a smaller, though no less monstrous, one that lets out a resounding cry of its own. 

“Gods be good,” you sigh, already feeling weary of this whole endeavor; you roll your eyes when you look to Cregan, only to find him positively beaming, entranced. You, however, would not be so easily wooed – of that, you were determined. 

Glowering, you turn your face to the sky once more and watch as the creatures circle one another, huffing when it dawns on you that their movements strikingly resemble two riders racing on horseback, goading and taunting one another. 

Shaking your head, your chest heaves with a tired groan, Seven Hells.

“I shall see you in the Great Hall when you have finished fawning,” you sigh once more before turning, leaving your brother to stand like some open-mouthed whore, gawping at the sky.

“My Prince and… my Prince,” Cregan’s voice echoes throughout the great stone hall, accompanied by the steady crackle of the enormous fireplace at its back wall, “We bid you welcome to the North, I trust your journey’s were pleasant ones.” 

The tension in the air is nearly palpable as you stand beside your brother, carefully watching the two dragonriders.The one on the left, Prince Jacaerys, stares straight ahead at Cregan, as if he doesn’t trust himself to look anywhere else. His dark brows are set in a slight scowl and his gloved hand hasn’t once risen from the pommel of his sword since he dismounted his dragon, who you’ve been informed bears the name Vermax.

Your gaze, however, seems continually pulled to the right, determined to see through the cool mask of indifference Prince Aemond wears. Unlike Jacaerys, his singular lilac eye had been busy flicking all about the space, though he stood stock still with a haughty manner about him, hands clasped behind his back. 

“‘Twas a fine journey, yes,” Aemond hums, looking first at Cregan and then to you; his gaze is piercing and you can’t help but wonder if the rumors among the smallfolk are true – that he’d replaced his lost eye with some sort of gemstone, “Vhagar and I were fortunate to not encounter… anything of note.”

Your eyes move quickly to Jacaerys, breaking from Aemond’s stare once you catch the pointed tone of his words, slicing through the air like daggers. His jaw clenches, though only for a second, as you silently pray that this does not end in the two men coming to blows, or worse. 

“My journey was quite pleasant, my Lord Stark, thank you,” a small part of you is impressed that he seems determined not to let his emotions run amuck. He steps forward and pulls a rolled piece of parchment from the inner pocket of the thick, fur-lined cloak he wears, “I come with a message from my mother, the Queen.”

Beside him, Aemond quickly steps forward as well, producing a similar scroll, close enough to you that you’re able to just make out an image of House Targaryen’s three-headed dragon embossed on the golden wax seal. “And I come bearing a message from King Aegon, Second of His Name,” he pauses, looking between you and Cregan, glancing almost imperceptibly toward Prince Jacaerys, “Who currently sits the Iron Throne.”

“Usurper,” Jacaerys mutters under his breath, nose twitching in annoyance.

“Say that again,” Aemond’s voice is low as he whips around to face Jacaerys, all but shoving the scroll he brought into your hands. 

“That is my mother’s throne,” the brunette replies, simmering with a barely contained rage as he hands over Rhaenyra’s terms to Cregan in a similar manner, “Your drunken fool of a brother has no right to it.”

Your heart thrums in your chest as they stare one another down, the hostility between them seems to suck all the air from the room and bathe it in a silence you’ve only ever felt in the crypts. 

“And who would bend the knee for a whore with bastard heirs, nephew?” Aemond’s footfalls echo about the hall as he stalks around the other prince, circling him with a goading smirk, “She could not honor the oaths made to her husband, I shudder to think what would become of her promises to the realm.”

Your eyes widen and a gasp is wrenched from your throat when Jacaerys whirls around with a snarl and the sound of metal-on-metal grates through the air as both men unsheath decorated daggers from their belts; they stumble a few steps back, chests heaving as they each wait for the other to make the first move. 

“Do it,” Aemond taunts, lips twisted into a wicked smile while he and Jacaerys circle one another. Raising a hand, he pulls the black leather eyepatch from his face and tosses it to the floor, clearly relishing the way the other prince falters at the sight of his uncovered face. The deep blue sapphire he reveals gleams in the light from the fire, the sight of it makes your breath hitch, “Finish what your bastard brother started, go on.”

“Cease this!” Cregan shouts, voice firm, though he may as well not have spoken at all for all the good it does – each man only sparing him a glance. 

“I did not come to fight you,” the brunette huffs, scowling at his uncle while keeping a firm grip on the hilt of his dagger.

“No?” Aemond questions sardonically, “You’ve no wish to prove your might, hm? To show the realm how strong you are?”

The remark sounds like any other taunt to you, yet something about it seems to make the fire simmering within Jacaerys blaze closer to the surface – too close. You can see it coming before it happens from the way he tenses, from the miniscule twitch of his hand.

Acting quickly, you lunge for the great longsword strapped to your brother’s back and unsheath it without a second thought. Cregan reacts just as swiftly and clambers for you when you turn on your heel and rush over to where the two men glower at one another. From the corner of your eye, you see Jacaerys lunge forward but you cut off his movement as you swing Ice over your head. 

Metal crashes against metal, filling the hall with a shrill clang, before the great sword slams against the stone floor with a cacophonous din. Everything comes to a sudden halt as the loud noise sends a shock through the hall. 

“Enough!” The word leaves your lips as a snarl while you stare between the two men, nose twitching in annoyance, “How dare you sully our home with such feckless, asinine bickering!” 

Each of the princes sheaths his dagger in silence, though you hold the sword between them still, the tip of it digging into the stone as you keep hold of the pommel. “I’ve no doubt that were those creatures outside to engage like this that they could easily rip Winterfell to pieces, stone by stone, and yet they remain peaceful! Tell me, do you have baser morals than that of a beast?” Your voice is low as you speak, every ounce of patience you had for this idiotic farce wrung from you, “Is this the kind of man House Targaryen sets upon the realm?” 

“Apologies, my lady… my lord,” Jacaerys murmurs, glancing between you and Cregan before quickly staring down at the floor, his jaw set. 

You give him a curt nod before training your eyes on the silver-haired prince and narrowing them expectantly; he holds your gaze for only a second before looking off into the fire with a sigh, “Apologies.” 

Cregan reaches for the sword again and this time you relinquish it without a fight, turning your attention back to the two scrolls abandoned on the longtable – one carrying a gold seal, the other a black one, both bearing the three-headed dragon emblem.

Your brother sighs behind you and you can practically feel him throwing an icy glance at the two men before he joins you at the table, leaning back against the edge of it and crossing his arms over his broad chest. 

“We will hear your terms,” he starts, ignoring the way your head whips around to face him, “As is our sworn duty, but there will be no violence in these halls.”

“No.”

“Sister –”

“Not tonight,” you shake your head firmly, glancing over your shoulder at the princes before leaning closer to Cregan, voice low enough that it doesn’t carry in through the hall, “‘Tis late and they are on edge as is. Any negotiations will not go peacefully tonight.”

He turns his head toward you with a soft sigh; you tilt your head just slightly when your eyes meet, communicating silently, with only a look, as you have since the two of you were small. 

“Please,” you think, your gaze flicking between his blue eyes, lips set in a firm line, “Listen to me, just this once.”

Finally, after a long moment, he simply nods and looks back at the two men still standing in the hall, looking pointedly away from each other now. 

“We will hear your terms in the morning,” you announce, turning to face them, your expression set and neutral, “The hour is late and I imagine the two of you are tired from your travels, the –”

“Lady Stark,” Aemond starts, stepping forward, jaw clenched with barely contained annoyance, “W–”

“We will hear your terms in the morning and that is final, my prince,” you repeat, enunciating each word firmly, leaving no room for whatever argument he was intending to make. You glance between the two men again, watching as he gives a polite, stiff nod. 

Sighing tiredly, you give Cregan one last withering look before turning on your heel. “The servants will show you to your quarters,” you call over your shoulder, grabbing the gold sealed scroll from the longtable on your way to the doors without sparing the men another look. 

By the grace of the Gods, you manage to have a few peaceful hours to yourself. The castle remains quiet, save for the usual bustling of various servants and guards. The crackling of the small hearth in your chambers is the only sound that accompanies you while you read over the terms Prince Aemond brought with him, which were fairly generous, all things considered. 

Only one point gave you pause, perhaps King Aegon’s greatest gift – the offer of his brother’s hand. You wrinkle your nose in disgust when you read over that bit, although you had expected it. It’s no secret that you, Winterfell’s greatest prize as you’d been told time and time again since you were old enough to even somewhat comprehend the idea of marriage, are unclaimed. Of course the Greens would exploit that, the Blacks probably did as well.

Of course any other weaker Lady would take the offer. 

Unconsciously, you clench your jaw as you gaze into the fire, watching the flames dance while you think over the terms set before you, etched cleanly on the parchment. You get up from your place at the desk to go see if Cregan has finished reading over Rhaenyra’s terms, quite curious to see what it is she’s offering up. 

“Gods!” You exclaim when a sudden knock at your chamber door cuts through the peaceful silence of the night, startles you enough that you grab at the edge of your desk to keep the bottle of ink there from spilling. Corking it, you let out an annoyed little grumble as you stand.

“Enter!” You call out, smoothing out the silken, fur lined fabric of your evening robes, the soft blue color sparkling like seafoam in the light from the fire. Your brows pinch together in equal parts annoyance and intrigue as a certain white-haired prince saunters through the door, his lips set together in a firm line, as if deep in thought. 

“Prince Aemond,” you huff, bristling when he closes the door behind him, “The hour is quite late, surely whatever you’ve come for can wait until the morning.”

He pauses at that, not moving from his place in the entryway. Confusion wells up within you when he doesn’t meet your gaze, his lilac eye blinking as his lips open just slightly – something clearly weighs quite heavily on his mind. 

“I apologize for the late hour, my Lady,” he murmurs, finally looking up as he takes a few steps into your chambers, arms clasped behind his back, “But I do not think the matter can wait until morning, no. I don’t believe that would be wise.”

“Speak, then,” you nod with a sigh, resting against the arm of a small sofa by the fire. You try your best to hide your annoyance, feeling certain that whatever the Prince had come to you with is not nearly as serious as he seems to believe.

Aemond remains quiet for a few seconds more and you can practically see the wheels turning in his brain, something brewing just below the surface. “I… Did you intend to make a fool of me, Lady Stark?”

“What?”

“I’m aware that my coming, and that of my nephew, were… sudden,” he continues, leaving you utterly perplexed, which only makes you clench your jaw, already exasperated at this entire exchange, “But, had you and Lord Cregan made it clear that you had already come to an agreement, I could’ve left — been on my way to the Stormlands and saved us all the trouble.” 

“Seven Hells, why must he speak in riddles,” you think, squeezing your eyes shut and pinching your brow tiredly. 

“Prince Aemond, perhaps I could be of some help if you spoke your concerns more plainly,” you sigh, crossing your arms over your chest and peering at him once more, “However, I can assure you that Cregan and I have decided nothing. He and I have planned to take the evening to read over yours and Prince Jacaerys’s terms, which we will discuss in the morning.” 

“Mm, then am I to believe that your lord brother plots without your knowledge, my Lady? I find that hard to believe.” 

“Excuse me?” 

Aemond paces, smirking as he traipses back and forth before you, acting like he can see clearly through some false plot you’ve set… if only you’d set one at all. 

“I overheard them, Cregan and Jace, in the library — I cannot seem to find sleep and thus was wandering the halls,” he murmurs, quickly explaining his actions before you have time to ask, “Surely you’re aware that your brother intends to support my traitorous sister.” 

His words should come as a shock, that Cregan would do something like this behind your back, and yet you can’t find it within yourself to be truly surprised. Ever since he’d become Warden of the North, he’d become… hardened, even to you. Before, he would’ve never dared do this, would’ve considered your thoughts as carefully as his own, but not anymore. 

“My brother may be decided,” you start, voice clipped, “But I have yet to come to a decision.” 

The prince hums yet again, something he seems to do often much to your great displeasure. He studies you for a moment, lilac eye never wavering from yours, before looking away with a tsk. “And yet, from what I overheard, he seems quite convinced that you have.” 

You scoff at that and push yourself off the arm of the sofa, placing your hands on your hips as you blink at him for a moment while the corners of your lips twitch with the threat of a smirk, “I must confess, my Prince, but I do not know how to proceed. We seem to be at an impasse – I assure you of one thing and yet you cling to your belief in another.”

“So it would seem.”

His calm reply does nothing to lessen your irritation and your chest heaves with a sigh, jaw clenching. “Well, then,” you huff, no longer patient enough to keep the frustration out of your tone, “What would you have me do, hm?”

“Perhaps,” your eyes narrow at the indifference with which he speaks – an act, you’re sure of it, “It would bring me some comfort if we could come to some… agreement of our own. As your brother and my nephew seem so eager to do.”

“As I’ve said, I do not wish to discuss the matter further. ‘Tis late, my Prince, and I see no point in staying up half the night to do something that can be accomplished just as well tomorrow.”

“Mm,” he hums, pacing around you and further into your chambers, to your great annoyance. You turn, watching him as he saunters through the space, acting as if it’s his own, only to come to a stop beside your desk. 

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips just as he feigns surprise at seeing the scroll he’d brought with him unfurled over the wooden surface, “But, you have read the king’s terms, no? Surely discussing them would not take long.”

“Discussing them, no,” you acquiesce, gritting your teeth, “My thoughts of accepting them, on the other hand…”

You can tell he’s only half-listening as you speak, focused on reading over the notes you’d scrawled in the margins of the document – questions of various assurances and the like… aside from one particular line which you’d hastily crossed through. A shiver goes down your spine when his eye trails up from the parchment to once again meet yours, darkened with some new sense of resolve.

“You are aware that the crown has the ability to strip you and Lord Cregan of your titles, yes? Especially if I were to inform my council of your plot against me…”

Your heart quickens at his warning, thumping meanly in your chest while you try to process his words. “All this over a simple marriage offer?” You think as your brows pinch together in a scowl; you do not take kindly to such threats.

“Over my brother’s right to the throne…,” Aemond murmurs and it’s only then you realize you must’ve spoken aloud, not hearing your own words due to the turmoil in your head, the rush of blood in your ears, “Over my family’s safety, yes. I would be willing to dole out harsher reminders as well, if need be.” 

“You must understand, this is not a slight against you, nor your council,” fire rages within you as the winds outside pick up, howling throughout the castle, “I have no want to be bound to anyone –”

“Think of the station you’d have,” he cuts you off, determination seeming to well up within him the same way it does you; each of you is ready for a fight, “The power you could wield in King’s Landing, everything you could do to benefit –”

“You could not drag me from the North kicking and screaming, I have no desire to go –”

“My Lady, you are intelligent, ‘tis plain to see,” he murmurs lowly, indignation finally managing to bleed through his placid exterior while he paces about, circling you just as he did Prince Jacaerys, “Surely you realize that your talents will be wasted here, squandered to the cold, frozen waste –”

“Do you think insulting my home is the way to win me over, my Prince?”

“Mm,” his dismissive hum alights a spark within you and your hands curl to fists at your side, “No, though I suspect flattery would do no good either.”

His words are sharp, spoken with the sole purpose of cutting into you, yet all they draw is an angry huff. You can see his eye narrow in your periphery, can feel him studying you, no doubt trying to find a way to make you crack. 

A part of you hopes he’ll succeed. 

“So, you see, I’ve no other choice than to resort to threats,” he hums, long silken hair swaying over his shoulders as he finally comes to a stop before you, close enough that you’re forced to raise your chin to maintain eye contact. 

“Should you be fool enough to try, you will not succeed in taking the North, my Prince,” you say softly, a quiet calm blanketing your fury just as snow blankets the fields outside, “Even Aegon the Conqueror could not, surely you know that.” 

Something dangerous flashes in his eye at that and your eyes narrow with the knowledge that you’ve crossed some invisible boundary, gone a step too far. 

He stays quiet for a moment, just long enough for the eye of the storm within you to pass, for the maelstrom to be ignited once more. 

“Surely you’ve heard tale of the wrath the Conqueror brought upon Harrenhal, Lady Stark,” his voice is low when he finally speaks, though there is no softness to it; only a harshness, a finality, that would surely make anyone else grovel for forgiveness at his feet, “Reduced to a pile of ash and molten stone… even now, more than a century later, it stands as a ruin – a cursed place…”

Your jaw clenches tightly at his words, eyes narrowing as you stare into his own as if challenging him to say it, to finish his threat.

“It would be quite a shame if that same doom was brought to Winterf–”

Aemond lets out a grunt when his back thuds against the stone wall behind him, gasping and caught off guard by your sudden advance. 

“Have you no shame?” Your words are biting as you snap at him; fury pours off of you in waves, your entire being concentrated down into rows of gnashing teeth, “You come into my home, unbidden. You threaten to spill blood in my hall, you feel entitled to my time and my space and my thoughts and my hand, all unbidden.”

For the first time all evening, the prince seems to have no response, not even a condescending hum. He stands frozen on the spot, held against the wall by your forearm pinned across his chest. The air feels like it evaporates from the room, leaving the two of you in some sort of bubble where the only sound is Aemond’s harsh pants. You see his angular nose twitch and his lips press firmly together as a sneer forms on his pale face. 

There’s a cruel, almost savage, gleam in his eye that should scare you, that maybe actually would, were it not for the soft pink flush spilling across his cheeks and an undercurrent of something resembling shame in his gaze – the expression of a child being scolded by a parent, caught doing something they shouldn’t. 

The strangeness of it brings you to heel for a second, only for the anger within you to flare up once more when he starts to open his mouth, starts to push himself off of the cool stone at his back. 

“Don’t,” you huff, narrowing your eyes and pressing back against his chest. A bitter laugh bubbles up from your throat as you stare at him, surprised once more when he quickly gives in and lets you push him back, “I bet you’re quite used to getting your way, hm? You’re a prince of the realm, of course you are.”

With each passing second, your ire for him seems to be slowly replaced by a growing curiosity — Why isn’t he fighting back? What kind of game is he playing at? 

“Entitled prince,” your heart quickens when his breaths start coming more harshly and his chest heaves against beneath your arm, “You hold no power here.” 

Aemond’s nostrils flare and his lilac eye narrows, just as fiery and intimidating as before. Your lips part when his hands come to rest on your waist, far too delicately for the situation. 

“Might I remind you,” he mutters, a rumble to his voice that hadn’t been there before, “That the crown—“

“The crown, the crown, the crown,” you lean in, nearly on your tiptoes, just a hair’s breadth away from touching your nose to his. Without considering the movement, your free hand wraps itself around his pale neck, not squeezing but merely resting there, pressing against his Adam’s apple — a reminder for him to remain silent, “Why is it that you lean so heavily on something you do not even have, my Prince?” 

You can feel him swallow against the palm of your hand, once again not fighting back. Though, it’s only when you meet his half-lidded eye and see that heady, shameful spark hiding there does the truth finally hit you. 

“Gods, he likes this,” your eyes widen ever so slightly at the realization, such a mighty, fearsome prince and yet he’s all but melting under your touch. The feeling is rather intoxicating and you feel a rush of power flow through you, making the hair at the nape of your neck stand on end. 

“I don’t see a crown on your pretty head,” you continue leaning into the feeling, intending on leveraging his submission to whatever extent you can, “Doesn’t that bother you, Aemond? Hm? Being reduced to the second son when you could’ve been so much more…”

“V-Vhagar could—“

“Vhagar could do nothing,” your fist tightens around the column of his throat as you press yourself more tightly against him, the thin fabric of your evening robe the only thing separating you from the warm black leather of his tunic, “Not if I take my brother’s sword and go slit her great belly myself.” 

He balks at that, brows furrowing as he stares at you — half in fury, half in wonder. He opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off again, not interested in hearing another half-baked threat. 

“Does it bother you that I don’t find you the least bit intimidating?” You question, narrowing your eyes at him. 

A grin blooms on your lips when he just barely shakes his head, the movement so subtle and so quick that you hardly catch it — though it sends lightning down your spine all the same.

“No? It doesn’t bother you, does it?” Again, he shakes his head, more firmly this time; his throat bobs beneath your grip, “Do you like it? That you can’t scare me?” 

He nods — not good enough. 

“Say it,” you command, tightening your grip on his neck once more. 

“I… I like it…,” he answers after a long moment, his voice hardly a whisper.

“Good boy.” 

He whimpers, the small sound vibrates against your hand. A shock goes through you and before you can fully register what you’re doing, you release his chest and neck and haul him toward your bed — that barely there whine enough to ignite a fire in your belly. 

You can see the confusion written plainly on his face when you sit on the edge of your mattress and gaze up at him expectantly, you try not to focus on the little flip your heart does at the fact that he’d followed you so willingly, like a little puppy. 

“Kneel,” you command, nearly giddy when he actually does, actually sinks to his knees before you. You lean forward and quickly tug off his eyepatch, eager to see the sapphire once more, and again, you’re shocked when he doesn’t put up a fight. 

Tossing the small scrap of leather to the side, you stop for a moment and admire the glimmering gemstone, even admiring the long, thin scar that adorns his otherwise flawless face. 

“You’ve been a thorn in my side all evening,” your fingers card through his hair while you speak, your voice low, hardly louder than the crackle of the logs in the fire, “Starting fights, coming to my chambers in the middle of the night for matters I said I would not be discussing, talking back… and I can think of much better uses for this mouth.”

Aemond’s breath hitches when you cup his jaw and skim a thumb over his bottom lip, grinning when he just barely follows your touch. With your free hand, you tug your robe open at the slit going up your leg, just enough to show him you’re bare beneath it.

“If… if I do this, you’ll back Aegon?” He rasps, staring up at you from his place on the floor as his hands come to rest gingerly on your thighs, “You’ll agree to his terms?”

“Of course…”

“… All of his terms?”

“All of them,” you echo breathily, sighing softly when he leans in and kisses the top of one knee, a smug grin on his lips despite the situation. 

If only he didn’t make this so easy. 

“Enough talking,” you grab at his pale hair and shamelessly pull him to where you need him, smirking at the little gasp that leaves his lips once he’s face to face with your center, “Show me what it is I’ve agreed to.”

For all his faults, Aemond doesn’t make you wait and quickly dives in — licking a solid line up the middle of your folds, groaning as he goes. His hands tighten around your thighs and he eagerly spreads them wider, shifting on the floor until he’s pressed closer to you. 

“Oh, f-fuck!” You gasp, leaning back on an elbow, though you keep a grip on his hair and use it to drag him directly to your aching pearl, arching your back when he hungrily suckles at it. His eagerness makes the fire in your belly burn bright right away and you swallow thickly, battling against the dryness at the back of your throat. 

Aemond growls against you and dutifully licks over your bud, flicks his tongue against it again and again until your head spins. Your thighs tighten around his head but he’s quick to press against them once more and hold you open, fingers digging into your supple flesh. 

“Good boy,” you pant, relishing the way his eye rolls back. Biting at your bottom lip, you yank his hair once more — guiding him to your entrance. He catches on quickly and another almighty gasp is wrenched from your throat when he pushes his tongue inside you, making you shiver. 

“Seven Hells!” Your hips buck against his face of their own accord when his angular nose brushes against your pearl, sending a jolt of pleasure down your spine. Your walls clench down around his tongue, pulling twin whines from the both of you. 

Knowing you won’t be able to hang on for much longer, you press his face against your core and rock your hips more earnestly against his face; your eyes nearly go cross when he groans deeply against you, squeezing at your thighs hard enough to surely leave behind bruises. 

“T-That’s it, that’s it,” you chant, chest heaving. It feels as if lava flows through your veins each time he presses his tongue against you, the fire inside you burning brighter by the moment. 

Suddenly, he moves on his own accord and nips softly at your pearl before suckling at it once more. The sudden turn of events causes you to snap and finally slip over the edge, making fireworks explode behind your eyelids. 

“A-Aemond, Gods!” You cry, harshly tugging at his hair, nearly ripping it from its roots as pleasure beats against you in waves. You’re so lost within yourself that you hardly hear him growl against you, low and heady. 

You shove him away after a moment when his touches begin to border on overstimulation and lie panting on the bed, dropping to your back against the warm blankets and staring, half-lidded, at the ceiling. 

You can hear the shuffle of his clothes as he pushes himself up off the floor but you don’t bother sitting up, limp still from your peak. It’s not until he speaks that you finally look up. 

“I take it I’ve fully persuaded you, then?” He hums, sounding entirely too pleased with himself. Leaning up on your elbows once more, you look him over — taking in the flush on his cheeks, the way his chest thrums under the dark leather of his tunic, the evidence of his arousal pressing tightly against the ties of his trousers. 

Gods, what a desperate thing — wanting so badly for validation.

“Well, I’ll still need to read over Rhaenyra’s terms…”

“But —“

“But nothing,” you snap, sitting up once more on the edge of the bed, “I must at least operate under the pretense of being fair, no? Cregan will know if I don’t come to collect the papers your nephew brought.” 

Aemond nods stiffly, lips set in a thin line as he looks you over. Your heart speeds up just slightly when his lilac eye pauses at your chest, darkening at the way your robe has loosened, showcasing your cleavage. 

“True,” he acquiesces, brushing a lock of hair from your shoulder, “It would be smartest for us to be careful now…” 

He leans down, intending to kiss your cheek, perhaps even your lips or neck, but you put a hand up to stop him — shaking your head with a small smirk and a raised brow. 

“That’ll be all.” 

His brows furrow at your words, eye searching your face, “I thought —“

“I need to rest,” you cut him off, nodding to the door, “Goodnight, my Prince. I hope sleep finally finds you.” 

“I…” he starts, staring at you for a second, absolutely crestfallen, before simply nodding. “Lady Stark,” he mumbles, finally turning and seeing himself out, hands clasped behind his back. 

“Poor thing,” you think with a sigh as soon as your door shuts behind him, “He has no business here.” 

You’re hit with a wave of deja vu as you take your place next to Cregan, each of you standing before the long table at the head of the Great Hall. Once again, the place is as silent as a crypt, the only sound being the steady crackle of the fireplace. 

You stare straight ahead, focusing intently on the opposite wall while your brother addresses the two princes — exchanging morning pleasantries and worried smiles. Throughout his small speech, you can practically feel Aemond’s gaze on you, like he’s determined to sear a hole straight through you. 

“I have read your terms carefully, both of them,” Cregan states, each of the scrolls laid out on the table behind you, “And I propose that House Stark honor will keep faith with its alliance to Lady Rhaenys, in memory of the oath we once swore to King Viserys.” 

“Very well,” Prince Jacaerys nods, giving your brother a small, polite smile and grateful nod. 

“And what say you, my Lady?” Aemond cuts in, determined to force your hand, for you to make good on your assurances from last night. 

The desperation in his eye almost makes you feel bad.

With a sigh, you finally look up at him for the first time all morning, immediately noting the dark circles beneath his eye. Breaking from his intense, nearly pleading gaze, you look toward Prince Jacaerys with a small smile.

“I’m afraid I must agree with my dear brother,” your voice is cold, emotionless as it rings throughout the stony room, “House Stark will not be breaking its oath today.” 

Aemond lets out a sharp, stuttering breath, as if he’d been punched in the gut and his shoulders sag in defeat. 

And you almost feel bad, only for a moment. 

Almost.

thank you for taking the time to read! hope you enjoyed! :)

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[withlovemark]

all of the moments that led me to you. (ii)

warning(s): steve's black eye (again), mentions of: gun, car crash, death.

pairing: steve x reader

words: 6.3k+

summary: a continuation of moments with steve harrington. takes place in season three.

an: first, thank u so so much for over 1k hearts on aotm pt 1 and to be loved. it’s unbelievable to me that that many people have read my writing. i’ve been writing and posting my stories on here a long time and this helps me feel like i’ve been growing, even just a little 🥹

second, i'm so sorry this took so long. i have no other excuse except the devil himself - mr. writer's block. thank whoever the hell is controlling my sim that they got rid of him (at least for now) and now i'm finally here to share this with you

hope you like it <3

-

yr. 1984

yr. 1985

i. robin’s game of you rule/you suck, intercepting russians and suzie 

quickly walking into scoops ahoy, you finally catch up to the curly headed kid, just in time to witness your favorite boys reunite through a silly greeting. 

you let them have their moment before finally making your presence known, “hey there sailor,” you greet steve with a quick hug, his frame enveloping you. 

he whines at the nickname, knowing how much you enjoy the little blue sailor outfit on him, mind wandering back to when you first saw him in the get up. 

“oh. my. god,” you gasp, a hand to your mouth, trying to hold your laughter in as he makes his way back into his room, after finally successfully putting on his “uniform.” 

“don’t say a word,” he warned, hands on his hips. 

“steve harrington. you are sooo…” he raises his eyebrows, lips morphing into a thin line, daring you to finish your sentence. 

“…pretty,” you giggle, closing the distance to adjust the sailor tie around his neck. he could’ve sworn his heart skipped a beat, maybe two. 

“it's not TOO bad, girls LOVE a man in uniform,” you tease, sitting back down on the edge of his bed. 

a playful smirk on your lips as his sailor hat comes in contact with your face in a matter of seconds causing a bubble of laughter to ring in his ear. 

a sound that has grew to be his favorite.

“sorry we came unannounced,” your voice brings him back to the ice cream parlor.

“he got home from summer camp today,” you explain, motioning to dustin who was now seated calmly in a booth,  “and immediately asked me to drive him here so he could see you,” you grin, steve returning the expression. 

“i think you’re his favorite,” a pout grows on your lips, eliciting laughter from the boy who you now call your best friend. the two of you being glued to the hip since that night in 1984.

days with steve harrington included sneaking into movies, butter popcorn in hand; road trips to nowhere and everywhere all at the same time; late night conversations that lasted into the a.m., a judgment free zone.

“well, yeah, i think we’ve known that a while ago,” he teases, earning a playful shove from you. 

“it’s ok though, i missed that little bugger too and there’s a new ice cream flavor i want you to try,” steve molds his hand into yours as he hurriedly leads you in front of the counter. the warmth of his hand disappearing as he made his way behind it.

you greet robin a quick hello and she acknowledges your presence by playfully saluting, making you smile. 

“here, try it,” steve snaps your attention back to him, placing what seemed to be a cup of just plain old vanilla ice cream in front of you. upon further inspection you notice it has chunks of something in it. 

“i don’t think ice cream should have that?,” you comment, eyeing it suspiciously. 

“just try it!,” he says, nudging the ice cream closer to your face. 

“alright, alright!,” you giggle, finally bringing the spoon between your lips. steve awaits your verdict, slightly bouncing up and down in excitement, eyebrows dancing.

“oh…wow,” your eyes widened, sparkling. tastebuds exploding at their new discovery. 

he knew you’d like it. 

“are those cookies?” you wonder aloud.

“mhmm, brand new flavor, cookies and cream, who would’ve thought huh?,” playfully raising his eyebrows as he stole the spoon from you, taking a bite out of your ice cream. 

“how are things with laura?,” you bring up nonchalantly, stealing the spoon back from him. 

“ugh, don’t even bring her up,” he rolls his eyes, grabbing another spoon from behind the counter while the two of you mildly attack the sweet cup. 

“another bad date?,” you concluded, eyes focused on scooping up a spoonful of your newfound favorite ice cream flavor. 

“we had absolutely nothing to talk about! i swear we just sat there and ate in silence the whole time,” he dramatically testified, shrugging his shoulders. 

“was the sex good at least?,” you asked, his face cringing. 

“didn’t have sex with her,” he shrugged,  “i just went home after and crashed, i think i really am losing my game,” he jokes. 

you know him well enough to know that he hasn’t been feeling as confident as he used to be. you think back to the night when steve confessed to you that he wasn’t able to get into the only college he applied to. on top of that,  his dad cut half off his allowance and he’s now, as he would describe it, “stuck working at a job that pays $3 per hour.”

all in all, steve felt like he had hit rock bottom. 

“how about you? how are things with isaac?,” steve smirked, changing the topic before you got to ask him if he was ok. 

“eh,” you replied. 

“ehhh?.” he mimics, urging you to go on. 

“not gonna go anywhere, very cocky, talks too much…and he’s a lot better when he doesn’t speak,” you cringed, remembering the way the boy spoke about basketball and cars the whole time, not at all caring about any of your interests. 

“maybe we should’ve switched dates?,” steve teases, head tilted.

you tuck away his golden locks that had fallen out of place and he finds himself holding a breath, eyes focused on your movements.

an action that was so familiar to him yet, lately, has been bringing up a weird feeling that he chooses to ignore.

“maybe we should have,” you playfully agreed, slowly retracting your hand, snapping steve back to reality. 

“anyways, thank you for my new favorite ice cream flavor,” you approved of the cookies and cream. 

“now, i have a favor to ask,” you grinned sheepishly. 

“hm?” he hums, grabbing a napkin and wiping away the bits of ice cream that have stained your lips. 

“can you watch dustin for the rest of the week? i have a bunch of cheerleading practices,” you explain, giving him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster, voice going a tad bit higher than usual. 

“yeah, yeah, you don’t have to do that,” he shakes his head, smile on his lips, “i got it all handled here, go ahead and just leave me with the lil monster,” he teases dramatically, making you roll your eyes playfully before beaming at him. 

“thank you, you’re the best!” you praised, lips planting a soft kiss upon his crimson cheeks, expressing your gratitude. 

he ignores the way time slowed down for a second, that fleeting surge of electricity that danced within him, igniting a spark that he quickly brushes off.

“i know,” he winks as you swiftly turn around, grabbing your bag and making your way out of the ice cream parlor. 

“stay safe!,” he shouts at your retreating figure.

“yes, dad!,” you tease, his face morphing into disgust. your laughter rings in his ears as you exit scoops ahoy right after lovingly messing up dustin’s pretty curls, an annoyed groan coming from the younger boy. 

“i can’t believe it, harrington,” the sound of robin’s voice captures steve’s full attention, taking his eyes off of your retreating figure. 

giving his coworker a pointed look, steve cluelessly wonders what she’s about to say when she pulled out her whiteboard and finally drew one tally mark under ‘you rule’

he rolls his eyes at robin, like he couldn’t believe what she just did, “hate to break it to you but i wasn’t flirting with her,” he defended himself.  

“huh, you sure about that, loverboy?,” robin snickered, clearly not convinced with the golden boy’s answer. 

“yes buckley, i’m sure,” steve deadpanned, “she’s my best friend alright so just…just erase that,” he mumbled, not entirely sure he believes his own words. 

it’s not like he hasn’t thought about it before…he has.

but falling for someone is never a good idea. he has firsthand experience that investing in love can be dangerous and if his worst fears happen, if the love unravels and crumbles down, he knows all too well that you will never get that same person back. 

and falling for his best friend? it’s not a risk he’s willing to take. 

he repeats to himself, ‘he must not have feelings for you. he simply doesn’t.’ these words continue to echo, living in his mind, until he believes them as truth. 

“well i think she could be your suzie,” dustin pipes in, quickly introducing himself to robin. 

“m-my what?,” steve inquired, the famous hand on his hip stance appearing. 

“your. suzie.” dustin pronounced slowly like that was going to help steve understand what he was talking about, “like how i have my suzie,” he adds. 

“and what the hell is a suzie?,” the older boy scoffed. 

“my girlfriend,” steve’s eyes widened at the boy’s proclamation, refusing to believe what he just heard. there’s no way dustin henderson has it all figured out before him, especially in the ladies department.

“it’s not important right now,” dustin says, shaking his head,  “i need to talk to you,” he says urgently. 

“we’re talking right now,” steve points out the obvious. 

“no,” dustin glares, “just you,” he continues, eyes glancing towards robin who just shrugged, not caring, as the two boy’s made their way back to dustin’s booth. 

“i intercepted a secret russian communication,” he confessed to the older boy.

believe it or not, those words were music to steve’s ears.

‘finally, he’ll be of use again,’ he thinks to himself as they start decoding the russian’s riddles. 

-

3 days later

the boys have vanished without a trace.

normally, steve would swing by after work, or when he was off – which you knew he was supposed to be, considering he gave you a copy of his schedule, – he would pick you up from cheerleading practices. 

dustin was also nowhere to be seen and the uncertainty of their whereabouts fills you with growing concern. 

there were no knocks at your window at midnight. no sound of an engine revving or the horn honking to greet you in the morning. not even the static sound from dustin’s talkie had made its appearance.

the last you heard from them was at the ice cream parlor. so after today’s practice, you were on a mission.  

you rush to the mall, hoping to see both of them devouring ice cream, ready to hear their half-ass apologies on why they went radio silent only to be face to face with two unfamiliar employees behind the counter, robin also absent from the scene.

quickly, you drove to steve’s house, the maroon vehicle nowhere to be seen causing you to reroute your drive to dustin’s house - still nothing.

this puts an end to your speculations – the boys are in trouble.

and they left you here with nothing but silence and the fear that’s rising in the pit of your stomach. 

you think back to where the kids usually were this summer and found yourself running down the wheelers’ basement, after mr. wheeler kindly let you in, only to reveal everyone else was already there…except for your two main culprits. 

seven heads turn towards you, your entrance hushing their conversations, “have any of you seen steve and dustin?,” you ask as they all shake their head no.

“well,” max spoke up, hope glimmering in your eyes, “el and i saw him at the mall,” she revealed.

“when was that?,” you inquire.

“like, 2 days ago,” she quickly replies, making you groan in exasperation. 

“hey,” nancy snaps you out of your despair, “they’ll be okay, it’s steve and dustin, they’re just probably out doing something ridiculous,” offering a smile, failing to comfort you. 

bless her but the only thing you could think about was how the last time those two did something “ridiculous,” they almost died, making you sink deeper into concern. 

“yeah, steve’s probably just helping him talk to his imaginary girlfriend,” mike chimes in as you remember the girl dustin briefly told you about when you drove him to starcourt mall. 

‘that was plausible,’ you convince yourself, finally nodding and accepting their assumptions. 

“we have bigger things to worry about,” jonathan said, directing the group’s attention back to their previous topic as they fill you in on the mind flayer — a mrs. driscoll, a tom and bruce, and a billy hargrove acting as its host. 

you just hoped to god that steve and dustin really are just looking for suzie because if they were in any kind of danger, you might kill them yourself. 

for now, you’d just have to play on this team. 

ii. starcourt mall and the TODFTHR 

starcourt mall in its after hours has a tauntingly beautiful presence, its hallways bathed in the soft glow of neon lights that crackle with static, creating an ambiance that breathes an almost palpable energy, as if the very essence of the mall comes alive in the quietude of the night. 

dustin finally radioed in a while ago with another code red, making goosebumps rise throughout your body. “code red” was definitely the last thing you wanted to hear. 

all the group could make out from him were the words, “open the gate,” and you knew this was all connected to everything you’ve seen in the past couple of hours. 

“where the hell is he?,” mike whispers as max shushes him and you silently thank her in your head. 

the group is extra attentive, everyone looking around in hopes they’ll find something out of place. 

finally, a faint click reaches your ears, followed by hushed footsteps. you think you’ve imagined it until nancy voices your suspicions, “what was that?,” she whispers. you feel the blood draining from your face, heart racing, afraid of the events that could transpire. 

following the sound, the group ends up at the second floor — right above the food court.

you spot the four men first, each one of them with their arms raised, gun aiming at a food stall. 

eleven immediately steps in making the car alarm go off then proceeding to throw it at the armed men. she leaves you stunned and amazed, like she's been doing the whole day, and you can’t help but send her a smile of gratitude. 

after a second or two, the two familiar heads finally emerged, eyes finding the golden ones you’ve grown accustomed to, all beaten up and bruised. 

rushing towards them, you pull dustin into a tight hug first, exclaiming “where the hell have you been?….i’ve been looking everywhere for you!” 

“i’m okay, i’m okay! i promise! im sorry,” he apologizes as you quickly look him up and down, your protective side kicking in, checking for any signs of injury until he finally slipped from your hold, reuniting with his friends. forcing you to look up at the beaten up, beautiful boy in front of you. 

“steve-,” you whisper, before running up to him, arms wrapping tightly around his neck, pulling him as close to you as possible. the beating of his heart against your ears, and in that moment, you feel like you can breathe again. 

he holds you just as tight, visibly relieved that you’re unharmed. as he exhales a sigh of relief, you pull away slightly, inspecting the mark around his eye. soft hands ghosting over the bruise that was already starting to turn purple.

“didn’t i tell you to stop getting into fights?,” voice laced with concern as you fought to hold back tears, overwhelmed by the rush of comfort having him by your side brings.

“i know it doesn’t look like it, but i actually won,” he smiled, tenderly brushing away the tears in the corner of your eye before they could spill. 

“what happened?,” you asked. 

a light cough from behind him breaks you out of your embrace, slightly pushing the boy away from you and finally taking in robin’s presence.

their matching appearance doesn’t go unnoticed.

“we found a secret lair, got drugged by russians and then they beat up pretty boy over here for some answers,” they share a smile. 

for a second, you feel your heart twinge. you’re not too sure whether it’s because the information robin shared painted a disturbing image in your mind or if it was because she was there and you weren’t. 

you can’t allow yourself to dwell on it as the group finally reunites, connecting all the pieces together and figuring out the next step. 

—

“oh screw tod, steve’s her daddy now,” steve says excitedly, as he got into the driver seat of the TODFTHER. 

robin and erica comment on his use of referencing himself in the third person and the word “daddy,” causing you to laugh as you sat in the passenger seat. robin, erica and dustin squeezing in the back.

driving off with the scoops troops, you make your way to dustin’s tower. 

“suzie must be pretty special, huh? for you to make this tower just for her,” you finally get a chance to interrogate the young boy, earning an excited nod from him and a groan from everyone else, making you feel like an outsider in their very obvious inside joke. 

“he described her as scientifically perfect and has yet to shut up about her,” robin fills you in, obviously tired of the topic at hand.

“i mean, nobody’s scientifically perfect but suzie’s about as close to being perfect as any human could possibly be,” dustin added, causing more annoyed groans to slip from everyone’s lips except yours.

“she sounds made up to me. she sound made up to you?,” erica sassed back, resulting in an eye roll from the young boy. 

“steve, y/n, you believe me right?,” he says, sitting forward, glancing between you and steve. 

“of course,” you quickly assured him while steve remained silent, before finally nodding his head along with you. 

“you hesitated,” dustin points out, a pout on his lip, “why did you hesitate, steve?”

“i didn’t hesitate!” he defends himself, his voice reaching a higher pitch. 

the older boy turned towards you, asking for your help but all you could offer him was a shrug, a smile playing on your lips.

dustin impatiently repeats his question, finally getting his answer, “i don’t know man, no one is hotter than phoebe cates!,” steve bursts, earning a look of confusion from you and a whine from the younger boy, giggles bursting from the two girls sitting in the back. 

you definitely missed out on a lot. and you realize how much you hate it. 

“left. turn left.” dustin said suddenly, prying you away from your thoughts.

“there’s not a road here,” steve points out the obvious. 

“turn left! now!” the younger boy yells urgently.

“jesus! hang on!” steve yelled before finally making a harsh left, your hands immediately going up your face, acting as a shield against the tree branches coming in contact with the vehicle. 

“oh my god, where the hell are we going!?.” you shout through all the ruckus. 

“just keep going!,” dustin continues with his unreasonable directions. 

“we’re not gonna make it!,” robin yells from the back and you see determination flash in steve’s face.

“yes we are!, come on baby!” he urges TODFTHER to go on until it finally hit its’ limit, leaving the group stuck in the middle of the woods.

“guess, we’ll have to walk the rest of the way,” dustin says. 

“how far is this thing?” erica says, voicing everyone’s annoyance. 

iii. dustin’s tower and an epiphany

it wasn't long until the group finally made it to dustin’s radio tower, finally being able to instruct murray’s next steps.

you were seated on the field with the rest – the calmness before the storm. 

“hey, guys?” steve’s voice causes the group to get up and follow his line of vision. 

starcourt mall’s rapid flickering lights causing panic to rise in the air, dustin immediately runs back to his talkie, trying to radio the others but all that was received was a loud, screeching, monster noise. the younger boy repeatedly tries to get a response but all that was left was static. 

steve makes up his mind, immediately getting up on his feet, ready to run towards the direction of the mall, but before he could get any further, your voice makes its way to his ears, halting his movements.

“where the hell are you going?,” you shot, panic evident in your voice. 

“to get them the hell outta there!,” he exclaimed, adrenaline running through him. you knew you weren’t going to be able to persuade him to stay here with you. but after the past couple of days of thinking you’ve lost him, there’s no way, in hell, he’s leaving you here. 

“i’m going with you,” you announced, already walking towards him. 

“no,” he says sternly, meeting you in the middle, “just stay here, watch the kids,” his eyes pleading with you to obey. 

“robin can watch them,” you countered quickly, reaching out for his hand, fingers fitting in yours perfectly.

“y/n-,” he whispers desperately. hoping you could hear how much he wants you to stay here, where it's safe. 

he can’t keep putting you in dangerous situations just because he wants to play hero. 

“you’re not going without me! i won’t let you!” standing your ground, your hand tightening around his.

steve can’t help but think back to earlier that night, sitting in the tiled bathroom of starcourt mall, robin opposite of him. 

“i just don’t get it,” robin says groggily, slowly coming down from the high and voicing her opinions. 

“what?,” steve looks at her, eyes droopy, mouth slightly agape. 

“you…going on all of these dates,” robin pointed out, “how you don’t realize you have the perfect girl in front of you,” she wonders aloud  he knows she wasn’t talking about herself, especially after she trusted him with her little secret. 

“you don’t think i know that?,” steve says, eyes closing, head slowly coming in contact with the wall behind him, defeated.

“why don’t you do anything about it then?”

“because….because- she’s y/n! and i’m…” he pauses for a second, trying to find a better way to explain it to robin but all he could manage to say was “i’m just steve.”

“well ‘just steve,’ i think you’re pretty cool,” robin compliments him, allowing him to fully strip away the walls, his hidden feelings coming to surface. 

“she has dreams and goals and i know damn well, she’s going to make every single one of those things happen, meanwhile, look at what i’m wearing! look at where i am! sitting on a bathroom floor, drugged!,-”

“hey, what does that say about me,” robin interjects. 

“please, i practically dragged you in here with me,” he continues, “all i do is drag people into chaos….i dragged y/n in this mess too, i can’t continue holding her back,” an exasperated sigh escaping his lips. 

“hm, you don’t have to hold her back, y’know?” robin countered,  have you ever considered being the one to hold her hand and support her through all her ‘dreams and goals’?,” she asks, hopefully giving steve a new perspective. 

“she doesn’t want that,” he says defeatedly.

“have you asked her?” robin questions. steve lets out a sigh before shaking his head no. 

“you’ll never know if you never try, but if you need a little push, if i were her, after everything i’ve seen today, i would’ve left a long time ago,” she says like a prophet. 

those words echo in his ears now and he sees it all clearly. 

you stayed.

you could have left, could have stopped talking to him and walked away forever. yet here you are, gazing at him with pleading eyes, hands in his, hoping he won’t let go.

that fact is evident to him now as he feels your hand tightening around his. 

steve found himself nodding slowly, a blast of realization striking him. you mirrored his gesture, sealing an unspoken agreement – minds and bodies communicating before any words were uttered. 

within the next second, the two of you made your way back to TODFTHER, headed to the mall - together. 

iv. the car crash and neverending story

“holy shit, hoLY SHIT! STEVE-,” you shout, the boy’s foot not leaving the gas as the car continues to accelerate.

steve takes a quick glance at you, “PUT YOUR SEATBELT ON!,” he yells and you quickly obey his order knowing he has no intention of stepping on the brake. 

as soon as he heard the little click, with both hands on the wheel, steve immediately stepped on the gas, the car accelerating at a speed you couldn’t even imagine. you can’t help but hold your breath, scared for the impact you know is about to come. 

in a matter of seconds, TODFTHER crashes into the black car driven by billy hargrove — bursting it into flames. nothing can be heard but the ringing in your ear as you try to refocus. this wouldn’t be the first time the two of you had matching concussions because of billy. 

“are you okay?,” steve immediately inspects you, unbuckling your seatbelt, warm hands gently cupping your cheeks, eyes finding yours. your chest heaving, trying to make sense of how the two of you were still alive. 

as you catch your breath, you look up into his golden eyes, rapid breaths syncing. then, in one swift moment, his lips are on yours, in a quick, passionate kiss. 

well, this is definitely not how steve imagined his first kiss with you.

he pulls away as soon as he registers his actions and you’re left breathless, not at all sure with what happened.

“sorry, i got caught in the moment,” he panics. 

“it’s okay,” you nod still trying to catch your breath. 

you don’t catch the way his eyes lose a little glimmer of hope. he’s about to take back what he said until the mindflayer makes an appearance on top of the building and you both very much snap out of the trance, being reminded that you were still in the middle of the battle. 

nancy directs your attention to her, yelling for your safety. steve immediately jumps out of the car, his warm hands instinctively grabbing yours, making sure you enter the car first. 

silence envelops the vehicle, everyone too afraid to say anything as the haunting size of the creature continues to taunt the group.

it wasn’t until dustin’s voice rang into the air followed by a young girl that everyone finally released the breath they were holding. 

you look at steve with recognition, “suzie,” you say in harmony and he can’t help but be in awe. 

“you’re going to have to say sorry for doubting him,” you tease, making steve chuckle.

he liked that. the fact that you guys can immediately joke around like he didn’t just kiss you after he crashed the car that could’ve caused your deaths. 

suzie-poo and dusty-bun keeps the group entertained, especially when they start singing a duet to never ending story. 

steve looks at you like this is the craziest thing he’s ever heard, the rest of group looking disgusted. 

you can’t help but giggle, quietly singing along to dustin, for only steve to hear, making him shake his head in disbelief. 

“i cant believe she’s real,” steve says after the musical that is probably in the top three most life changing moments in his life and the two of you break out in quiet giggles. 

v. ambulances and “friends?”

the battle was bloody and not everyone came back unscathed. some didn’t come back at all. hopper made a huge sacrifice. billy was dead. 

now everyone was seated in their own ambulances, near star court mall, waiting for clearance. 

you’ve spent the last hour trying to comfort max in her grief. losing billy like that, right in front of her eyes, left her in her thoughts, refusing to talk to anyone. 

the only reason she let you in was because you knew her brother in a different light, unlike the others who has always viewed him as the villain. 

“is it bad that part of me is relieved?,” max quietly whispers like she didn’t even want you to hear it, almost like the guilt of saying it out loud was going to kill her. 

you shake her head no, “grief can present itself in different ways, you don’t have to feel a certain way,” you reassure the younger girl, “just feel what you’re feeling now and take it day by day” you try to comfort her, hoping your words can somehow reach her. 

meanwhile steve was with dustin and robin, sitting in a different ambulance. 

“i kissed her,” steve confessed to the duo.

“you kissed her?” robin and dustin says at the same time. one with pride, the other, shocked. 

“i. kissed. her.” steve repeats, more to affirm himself that it actually happened and it wasn’t just  the drugs that had completely worn off at the time nor was it the concussion he surely had. 

he really kissed you. he knows its true because if he closes his eyes and think about it hard enough, he can still feel the softness of your lips on his. 

“well are you gonna go talk to her about it?,” robin breaks him out of his daydream and the question immediately causes bubbles to rise through his stomach. 

he feels like he's going to throw up. 

“what if i dont?,” he panted, “i did tell her it was just a spur of a moment thing,” he reveals. 

“now, why would you tell her that?” dustin says like a father disappointed in his kid.

“i don’t want to ruin our friendship!” he defends himself, arms flailing in the wind. 

“you already kissed her dumbass, thats like #1 on things not to do to ruin a friendship,” robin points out and he knows there’s no way he was going to win this two to one battle. 

he was going to have to talk to you.

-

“hey,” steve's hushed voice breaks you out of your own thoughts. 

max has left you on your own a while ago, saying she just wanted to be alone. when she was gone, you had a bit of time to process everything as much as you can at the moment. 

“you okay?” steve asks softly. 

giving him a small smile, you pat the empty space beside you, inviting him in your ambulance, “could be better, but yeah…i'm okay, are you?”

he nods, answering your question. “are you sure?... billy is gone,” he mentions cautiously, afraid of how you would react but prepared to offer comfort. 

“well... i do feel sorry for max, she’s the one that lost her brother tonight,” he nods, understanding what you meant. 

billy was long gone for you. surely, not like this — never would you have wanted it to be like this. but he no longer occupies any part of your mind and definitely not your heart. 

“do you know what actually scared me?” you whisper, your breath coming in contact with the cold air. his silence urges you to go on. 

“when i couldn’t find you,” you admit to him and to yourself. 

steve sees everything that he needs to see in your eyes – love, fear, a hint of sadness. 

he has the urge to pull you into him, to feel your lips like he did earlier that night. but before he does, he knows he has to come clean. he has to do it right this time. 

“i have to tell you something,” he says urgently. 

“if something like tonight ever happens again, god i hope it doesn’t, but if it did and i never got to say this, i would hate myself forever,” he rambles, trying to buy time. he knows that after he says what he’s about to say then things with you will take a turn. 

“you're scaring me steve…what is it?” you ask, softly placing your hand on top of his shaking leg, hoping to somehow help him calm down. he takes a second to gather his composure.

to make sure he says the words the way you deserve to hear them – honest, sweet, gentle. 

“y/n, i am in love with you,” he confesses into the night air, soft brown eyes locked on yours.

you stare at him, eyes slightly widening, registering his words. 

for steve, time seemed to stretch endlessly, it could've been three seconds or three minutes but but it was unquestionably the longest silence he had ever endured. 

when you still haven’t said anything, he realizes he has made a mistake and knows he has to fix it, immediately.  

“a-and you don't have to say it back!, i'm not asking for anything!, i mean it would be nice but i'm totally okay with just being fr-” he fumbles over his words, hoping that dustin could find some sort of way to teleport back in time to prevent this confession from happening. but then he feels it — soft lips pressing against his own, shutting him up ever so sweetly.

his body responds instinctively, returning the gentle kiss, eyes fluttering close. this was how it was supposed to go. 

“please don’t say you're okay with us just being friends,” you tease, finally easing his racing thoughts. 

he chuckles softly, “i am… i am not okay with us just being friends,.” he admits, mirroring your expression. 

“good.” 

that one word was all it took for all of steve's worries to fade, happily pulling you closer until there are no spaces left to fill. 

-

bonus: pretty privilege (3 months later)

walking into family video, you gently drop steve’s hand, immediately missing the warmth it provided and causing a tiny frown to appear on your boyfriend’s face. 

“hey keith,” you greeted the boy behind the counter sweetly. 

“h-hi y/n, what can i do for you?,” he was grinning from ear to ear and you knew this was going to be easy. 

“do you think,” you start, voice going an octave higher, an innocent glow in your eyes, “you maybe have two job positions open, right now?,” you finish, a hand placed softly, and very calculatedly on his arm. you were completely taking advantage of his “secret” crush on you. 

steve glances between the two of you in disbelief. 

meanwhile, the boy behind the counter was a blushing mess, mumbling a “god, y-you’re so pretty,” and steve has to physically hold himself back from kicking the air. 

keith leans over the counter, “yeah, i’m-” he starts to say, but before he could end his sentence, steve’s hands wrapped protectively around yours, dragging you out of sight and in between one of the aisles. 

“what are you doing?,” he quietly blurted once the two of you were out of sight. his arms crossing against his chest, biceps protruding, eyebrows going up. 

“trying to get you and robin a job,” you reminded him of the reason why the three of you were even in this store in the first place. 

“yeah but what’s with the cute voice and the eyes!,” he points out, “oh keith! do you have a job opening right now?,” he bats his eyelashes, mimicking you, completely appalled by the way you used your cute voice that was only supposed to be reserved for him. 

“okay first of all, i do not sound like that. second, it’s pretty privilege steve and you have to know when to use it,” he rolls his eyes at your answer. 

“yes, you do sound like that!” he whines like a five year old child, “...omygosh keith you’re so manly!, you have a job, you-,” he continues mocking. 

“steve harrington,” you cut him off, “are you jealous?,” you accuse, holding back your smile. 

“i don’t get jealous,” he scoffs, an absurd expression on his face like he couldn’t believe you even suggested that. 

“really? because you’re looking pretty green right now,” you tease, a small smile playing on your lips. 

“y/n it’s physically impossible for people to turn green,” he rolls his eyes. you ignore the use of your name.

“it’s a metaphor,” you tease. 

“you're a metaphor,” he mocks and you can’t stand it anymore, he’s acting too cute. 

“you're cute when you’re jealous,” 

“you really shouldn't be though,” you continue.

“yeah i know...its just keith,”

“no, its because i’m all yours, steve harrington.” 

in an instant, all annoyance melts away from him and you know you won. your hands instinctively thread behind his neck, grabbing a hold of his curls, a routine you’re now all too familiar with but could never get enough of. 

the taste of strawberry chapstick mingles with spearmint. steve senses your smile against his lips, pulling you closer as his hands encircle your waist, deepening the kiss. soft moans escape your lips, audible only to him. 

he craves more of you, currently wishing you were alone in the comfort of his room, his car, or anywhere but here, in the middle of all these vhs tapes. 

“ehem,” robin’s cough breaks the two of you apart, making you jump.

quickly wiping your lips, you push steve away, taking notice of the lipstick that was now painted on him before sending robin an apologetic smile.

it’s all too easy to get lost in the boy beside you. 

“are you lovebirds done or should i go watch a movie first?,” she says sarcastically. she was honestly over all the lip locking. it was cute at first but the honeymoon phase is now starting to tire the rest of the group. 

“well, you could-” steve starts. 

you quickly jab him in the stomach, shutting him up. “sorry,” you smile sheepishly at robin, “yes, we’re done.”

robin chuckles, “whatever, i got us the job” she states, ready to get out of there. 

“how?,” steve asks, head tilting to the side. 

“told him that steve’s a real chick magnet and he’ll attract a lot of customers...especially hot babes,” she shrugs like it didn’t take any work. 

“ahh,” you nod slowly, agreeing, then redirecting your focus back to steve.

“see. pretty privilege.” you point out, making steve chuckle, his fingers naturally wrapping around yours as the three of you finally walk out of the store. 

and no, you don’t miss the way he looks back at keith with a smirk.

-

an: i will not promise a next year this time because in all honesty, i got nothing but moment titles. if i do write one, it will just be randomly posted one day lol.

thank you for reading! and if you were here when i first posted part one (exactly a year ago), extra love to you<3

please feel free to drop your thoughts, comments, suggestions, etc, in my inbox <3 (anons are welcomed!)

[81folklore]

robin - CL16

pairings charles leclerc x fem!singer!reader (fc: gigi hadid + pinterest)

summary fans get a look at charles’ family

warnings a baby + pregnancy (the baby is the entire plot point and one pregnancy mention) poorly translated french, some taylor swift songs are used as readers songs. HUGE TIMESKIPS (sorry lol)

notes we are BACK!! for the time being at least,, sorry for being gone again😣 also im using gigi again because i had this one specific photo in mind of her pregnant!!

notes 2 kind of short but i want to try and gain some more motivation buuuut in my absence from writing ive created a rec blog so i can show you all my favorite works by all the incredible writers on here! @81folklore-library

masterlist

yourusername • may 2020

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 1,283,693 others

(im)patiently waiting to meet you tiger 🐯🩵

view comments

charles_leclerc you are glowing mama🌟

yourusername charlie🥹

lewishamilton cant wait to meet the little one, you’re doing amazing yn!

yourusername thank you lewis💜

user44 you are gorgeous omg

user23 i can’t believe charles is going to be a dad soon

user2 it feels like its flown by

user17 i love that they call their baby tiger☹️

user6 me too!! i hope it sticks as a nickname

arthur_leclerc lunch again soon?

yourusername of course art! let me know when🤍

yourusername • january 2021

liked by charles_leclerc, lorenzotl and 3,930,519 others

our little tiger blessed our lives a few months ago and we couldnt feel more overjoyed to have her. we want to thank those around us for their continued support during our first months of parenthood

tiger, we cant wait you grow into a beautiful young girl and we are already so proud of you🐯🩵

tagged charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc so happy i get to be a dad with you🩵

charles_leclerc i love you so much im so proud of you

yourusername i love you charlie, thank you for everything

lorenzotl toi et charlie êtes de merveilleux parents 🩷🩷 (translation you and charlie are wonderful parents)

yourusername merci! revenez bientôt, vous êtes toujours le bienvenu! (translation thank you! come back soon, you are always welcome!

user55 theyre parents🥹🥹

user80 oh im sobbing this is so lovely😭😭

user17 they still call her tiger☹️☹️

user49 im confused is that the babies name?

user17 no they just call her tiger in public, we dont know her name! they started calling her tiger when they found out they were going to be parents and it seems to have stuck!!

liked by yourusername

user32 i was listening to never grow up when i saw this post🥹🥹

user47 congratulations guys!!

yourusername • september 2024

liked by charles_leclerc, olliebearman and 5,291,649 others

happy birthday little tiger, it has been a joy to watch you grow into the wonderful girl that you are (please stop mama cant handle you getting bigger🥹)

you are so incredibly loved and i hope you feel that every day, i hope you have a wonderful day today and everyday baby!

happy birthday love mama and papa🐯🩵

view comments

charles_leclerc happy birthday angel, we love you🐯

olliebearman happy birthday tiger!!

yourusername see you soon darling🩷

lewishamilton i can’t believe she is already four🥹💜

yourusername time really flies by🥹

user67 SHES SO BIG NOW😭

user5 right?! i remember when yn posted her on charles back☹️

user52 these pictures are so cute oh my god😭😭☹️☹️

user60 actually my favorite family ever🥹

user21 i feel so emotional knowing ive watched this family grow

user19 is anyone else sad charles hasnt posted the annual story?

user37 theres no way he just stops,, she has so many more songs☹️

user66 wait im new what are we talking about?

user37 because charles and yn write the birthday captions together, charles started posting a picture of tiger with a song yn has written about children or babies etc (example: last year it was never grow up!) and she has so many more songs that would fit but he hasnt made one this year :(

yourusername & charles_leclerc • september 2024

liked by lewishamilton, pierregasly and 6,280,740 others

tiger its your birthday surprise; Robin out now🐯

comments on this post have been limited

yourusername📌 ps robin is not tigers name🩵

charles_leclerc thank you for letting me on a song🫶

yourusername always baby

charles_leclerc we love you tiger🐯

charles_leclerc added to their story

[song used: Robin by yn text: way to go tiger🐯🩵]

seen by yourusername, pierregasly and 1,279,940 others

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