#metal bathroom rack

[allurilove]

Yandere Stalker x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: Stalking, blood, fem reader, stealing, he’s weird as fuck, male masturbation, he’s infatuated with you.

*This fic is influenced by You—a great tv show btw. I’m trying to give him a joe goldberg vibe. I really thought of the weirdest and freakiest shit he could do… Here is part two! He is referred to as “your stalker” and this is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: Your stalker goes to extreme lengths to feel close to you. Nothing really phases him, and that includes your period blood.

What’s more dangerous than a man madly in love?

He stalked you to a coffee shop. He sat a couple tables away from you, and he ordered a random drink. He never really cared for the overpriced concoctions these baristas made, and he really was here for you. He watched your white straw turn into a different color when you sip on your drink, and he sighed happily as he thought you looked hot with your lips puckered.

Sure enough, every sip was like a punch to your bladder. You got up from your seat and you walked to the restroom.

Was this disgusting? He asked himself as his cheek hit the cold tile floor. He was currently hiding in the women’s bathroom, spying on you as you did your business. And to his elation, you were on your period. He watched as you pulled down your pants, and you sat down onto the toilet, his eyes honing in on the pad that lays on your panties. As you changed your sanitary pad and wrapped up the old one, you pulled your pants back up and walked out of the stall. His eyes following the sight of your shoes and you stopped at the trash can, he hears a faint noise, and then the sound of the water turning on.

When you finally left, he walked out of the stall he was hiding in, and he approached the trash can. He gently pushed the opening, and his arm traveled down inside to look for the pad you threw away. He prayed that all of the wet substances that he was feeling was just soggy paper towels.

He then feels a plastic film, and it was sort of short but thick in width, and he grabbed onto it. He pulled it out and he inspected the orange colored wrapper. He was curious since he didn’t have a uterus, and also didn’t know what it was like to have a period, and he then sniffed it.

It definitely smelled odd… It sort of tingled his senses, the aroma of metallic blood and the natural scent of your body was…. sort of triggering a deep rooted instinct inside him. But that didn’t stop him from stashing it away into his pocket. He quickly put his hood up and he walked out of the restroom.

He had to jog a bit to catch up with you, he saw you sharply turn the corner, and he almost panicked when he couldn’t see you anymore. The last time this had happened, a crowd swarmed him and he hasn’t seen you in months. For five hellish months he had to try to find you again. It certainly wasn’t easy to find someone that didn’t document every single moment of their life on the internet.

A year prior before he started to stalk you in person, he wanted to stalk you online. He was pretty sure everyone stalks their crush on their socials, he remembers seeing your name on the coffee cup you were holding, and he scrolled through endless usernames. He squinted his eyes and he tried to look at the tiny profile pictures.

None of them looked like you.

He couldn’t find your perfect face anywhere! He slammed his fists onto his desk, and his mind was racked with potential username ideas. Maybe you liked flowers? He started to name every single flower he knows, and he typed that with your name. He frowned when the page ended up empty, zero profiles showing up.

He soon found out you had zero social media presence.

He shoves his way through, bumping into seemingly everyone’s shoulder, and after handing out half hearted apologies…he finally saw you enter a store.

He looked up at the sign: “Rated: Adventurous,” it said. There was apparently a huge sale going on… whips and leashes half off… wait what?

He didn’t peg you to be the kinky type, but to be fair he didn’t know much about you. You keep your cards close and have a small knit of friends. He walked into a different aisle from you, trying to look normal by grabbing a random adult toy as he glanced at you. His eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as you held a ten inch dildo in your hands, jesus. He looked down at his own crotch, his cheeks burning red and he cleared his throat. He put away the leather mask in his hand, and he inched a bit closer to you when you walk to the cashier. He notes that you mostly pay in cash, rarely using your card, and he noticed how you barely look around your surroundings. You didn’t even look his way—even when he was standing right in front of you, you just brushed past him and walked out of the store.

Huh.

He stands a couple of feet behind you as you hailed a cab, he makes sure to take a good look at the driver, and he saw you get in and buckle up. It’s not safe in the city, and even cab drivers had partaken in dangerous and criminal activities. Just last week a driver kidnapped a couple and fled out of the state. If you were to disappear—he knows exactly who to blame.

He quickly ran to his car and he followed after you. Running a couple of red lights doesn’t hurt anybody— maybe his wallet— but it’s worth it if it means protecting you.

He felt like he could finally relax as you made it home safely. He is now sitting in his parked car, idly fiddling with his fingers as you walked up to your front door.

He hoped that when you were pleasuring yourself you were imagining a man like him. Because he thinks of you when his pants are down.

Night has fallen and he’s been parked outside of your house for hours. He liked that it was dark out, because when he stares into your lamp lit apartment- all he could see is you and everything else is blocked out. You’ve always been a little tease, and the outfits you wore were always a bit scantily clad. But even now… it was like you were purposefully trying to trigger a response from him. You were just standing there, your arms crossed, and dressed in just a robe.

Just a tiny peek of your ankles and calves sent chills down his body. His hands started to work to unbuckle his belt, his zipper becomes unzipped, and he pulled out his hardened cock.

He wished you would’ve flashed him right there and then. He wanted a glimpse of your tits, just to see if they sag or if they were perky, and to see if your nipples were pink or brown. He would want to hold them in his hands. He wonders if you are shaven down there, or perhaps you liked to grow a bush. He wonders if your blood continued to flow out of you, dripping down your leg for him to lick and lap up. Would you like that? For him to spread your legs and help soothe your cramps?

He wouldn’t mind to have his fingers turn red, to have his hands and mouth stained of your heavenly essence. He wouldn’t mind if you got frustrated that his fingers couldn’t reach the deepest part of you, and that you wanted him to use his dick to impale you. A little blood never hurt. His eyes rolled back, and the muscles in his arms tightening as they furiously worked hard to jerk him off.

“Shit baby, that feels so good…” He groaned, his back arching as he was teeming for his release. His imagination running wild with the thought of you coming to his car to pleasure him. “I’m close I’m close I’m close—“

He used his other hand to reach into his pocket and he fished out the used pad, his teeth ripping the plastic, and his nose digs into the cotton. He let out a loud moan, your scent bringing him comfort, and his cock twitched as he came all over. His cum dribbling down his shaft, and dripping onto his hand. He sighed, and he cleaned himself up. He kept a box of tissues in the glove box, he wiped himself down and he looked in the mirror. There was a bit of your blood on his nose and chin, his tongue swiping at the area and he savored the taste.

The orgasm was so good that it lulled him to sleep, his soft cock still in his palm, and he snored away.

[mcondance]

an “i love you” that isn’t words

Spencer’s love for you is evident all around you.

warnings & notes the rumors are true i love tøp and spencer reid! anyways fluff but still MDNI 18+, title from shy away by twenty øne piløts, do not listen as you read. inspired by the lyric it’s titled after. real freaks only (people who love love), reader may or may not be autistic i don’t know if you feel it you feel it! reader is a bit shorter than spencer, writing fluff is becoming less and less out of character for mcondance

1.1k words (what…….)

Spencer’s apartment is still, save for the solitary body making its way from room to room. Music floats from his turntable— you remember having to tell him to store his records vertically. Even that super mind of his didn’t contain the knowledge of what happens to records if they’re stacked on top of each other. So he stood them up, and he made room for your records as your collection slowly began to find a new home. 

The desk by the door is littered with both yours and his papers, and trinkets that belong to both you and him, Spencer’s lamp, and a really weird looking lamp you got off EBay more than a few years back.

One of your blankets is thrown over the back of the couch, infusing some color into the deep browns and reds of his living room. The small table in front of the couch holds your tattered copy of the book you’ve been reading since you were 12 years old. It looks like something you can’t describe, something that’s been with you for a decade now lying on your boyfriend’s table. Poetic, maybe.

Your stacks of books have long since married with his. To anyone else, it’d look like a library, but to you both it’s not enough, not enough. 

“We’re gonna have to rent a storage building,” you deadpan, staring up at the ceiling in bed.

“Yeah,” he agrees, letting his head fall toward where you lay beside him. “But what if there’s a book we want to read but it’s in the storage building? Then we’d have to drive over just to get it—”

“And we’d get distracted like we always do so we’d be there for hours.”

“It’s unproductive.”

“Horribly so.”

You’re not sure who breaks the faux-formality first. Either way, you both end up laughing with sparkling eyes fixed on each other, and a giggled agreement to just let the books continue to pile up. 

“I wouldn’t mind living in a library,” is what Spencer tells you after he’s caught his breath.

In the bathroom there’s room for yours and his body wash. Your toothbrush sits next to his in a brown mug with a funky design on it, one you brought in your move. Along the side of the sink lay your hair products, arranged neatly. Two towels hang from a spiraling rack you bought at an antique shop a few months after you moved in. 

“Spencer, look!” You exclaim, clearing the small space in less steps than it’d usually take you. He follows quickly, pressing his chest to your back as he looks over your shoulder and gives his attention to the metal rack. 

“We can put it in the bathroom, maybe. If that’s fine with you,” you suggest, turning to face him. It seems like his eyes are ever melting when you’re in his line of sight, but somehow they melt further when you turn. His arms wrap around you and pull you close, encasing you in the kind of warmth you get when you step out of the cold into a heated building, shivering but grateful to be out of the frigid temperature. It’s reminiscent of how it felt to actually step into the shop. 

“If you want to, then we’re going to.” 

“Yay,” you smile, before you kiss him shortly. He smiles back, glowing eyes soft and smooth, and kisses you authentically, and not so deeply as to be inappropriate in public, but still enough that you distantly think your legs might buckle. 

The bedroom is a portmanteau of you and Spencer. Your plushes sleep soundly on your side of the bed, and at night they watch quietly from their perch on the table on the other side of your night stand. Your stand matches Spencer’s, so heart-flutteringly you’re sure teenage-you would jump up and down and screech. Scattered upon your nightstand are a couple of half-drunk bottles of water, your vitamins, various necklaces and rings, a couple of books stacked on top of each other, and a drawing Spencer made for you. 

Spencer’s side is a bit less packed, but still unorganized nonetheless. Books (of course), a journal and a pen (you’ve gotten him into journaling as a way to regulate himself when he’s feeling overwhelmed), and when he comes home later tonight his watch will join the rest of his things.

One side of the closet is yours, and the other is Spencer’s. While his style seems wacky to other people, there’s a couple of pieces on either side of the closet that have a sibling on the other side. The clothes that can’t fit in the closet are folded in the dresser drawers. 

The dresser is decorated with a couple of your CDs, the ones you like to see when you’re in the room. Necklaces and rings plucked from various antique and thrift stores are spread over the cherry-tinted wood, mixed in with some of Spencer’s cologne, a tie or two he hasn’t hung up yet, and a bag of candy you’ve both been eating out of. 

Your trinkets mix with his, a display of two people who spend way too much time sifting through shelves in places full of dust and the smell that is unique to antique shops.

“Jesus, why do these shops always smell like that,” you whisper as you enter the store.

“Everything in here is most likely, at the least, over 50 years old. Most older things are made of natural fabrics like linen, cotton, wood— you know, stuff like that— that are extremely good at absorbing smells. I’m sure our clothes now will have a unique smell that people down the line will have the exact same reaction to.”

You smile, and you think your eyes are about as wide as a saucer, that little look of pining you always take on when he talks like that. It’s not your fault, really, he’s just so nerdy and you love his rants so much. 

“I can tell you more about it while we shop,” he offers. 

“Uh, duh,” you answer, looking between him and a cute tie you think he’d like.

In the kitchen cabinet, your bowl is freshly cleaned, as Spencer washed it before he left this morning. Ever the pattern-recognizer, he picked up on your attachment quite quickly and has made that accommodation for you ever since. You’ll use other bowls if you have to, but you haven’t had to for months. 

The record finishes. You pick another one out of your section of the collection, and play that one. Coincidentally, it’s one of your favorites that became one of Spencer’s favorites after you played it for him. One happily and gratefully became two.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Tenacity

Pairing: Boston Joel Miller x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Joel Miller will never allow himself to take what he wants and you know that. How can a broken shower make him realize it's too late and he's already fallen for you? (Or Joel fucks you on his beat up couch in the QZ.) Warnings: Smut, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, riding, apocalypse birth control, old furniture doing old furniture things, a grown man dealing with feelings, apologies for the Tess erasure. Words: 2,300

A/N: @ohheypedrito mentioned couch Joel and I couldn't help myself, I am forever in her debt. Thank you to @jennaispunk for beta'ing

Masterlist

____

He knows he shouldn’t have let you in, he should’ve stayed silent and let you think he wasn’t home, but he can never say no to you, a fact you’re well aware of. Your shower has been broken for months, sure you can ask another neighbor, but Joel’s place is your first choice, never bringing a towel, always choosing to wrap yourself in his scent. 

You smirk that devilish look and without a word saunter into his bathroom. He settles on the couch, large body dipping in the underfilled cushions, his back aches after a long day of work. The last thing he needs to deal with is his budding erection pressing against the metal zipper but he just can’t stop thinking about your body dripping wet in that damn dirty shower of his. 

He’s exhausted, his head thuds against the floral wallpaper turning yellow with age and decay, he can only assume this miniscule apartment once belonged to a nice old woman who liked soft pretty things. Joel too likes soft pretty things, the one he likes the most just happens to be you, currently happily humming behind the bathroom door you refuse to fully close. His eyes focus up on the dingy ceiling above praying for a reprieve from the emotions that bloom within him whenever he thinks of you. 

The tap turns off, he steels himself, straightening his sore body. God damnit, he thinks throwing an arm to stretch across the back of the couch. The hand resting against his upper thigh nervously taps against his jeans. Funny that you’re the only thing in this world to make him anxious and yet your presence always leaves him tranquil.  He already knows where this will lead, he must be some sort of masochist, never feeling like he deserves your attention but still accepting anything you’ll gift him. 

The sound of your post shower routine floats across the small room. Curtain opens, curtain shuts, pitter patters of your feet to the towel rack, a woosh of the heavy fibers settling against your body, your contented hum that prickles against the back of Joel’s neck. You’re the only bright spot in this hellhole, a shining ray that blinds his mind and heart whenever he wonders how someone like you can exist in a world like this. 

The dim living room floods with a beam of light from the bathroom, steam billows out of the doorway, your form wrapped only in his towel steps out of the fog, he swears this might be what heaven looks like. There’s enough space for you to change into your clothes in the bathroom, but you never do. 

That smirk shows up again, heaven and hell existing in one crooked grin stretched across your mouth. Joel’s never been a religious man, sure he’s prayed during hopeless times in his life, but tonight, he prays to whatever being that will listen to give him the strength so he may provide you everything he has without falling even harder. 

Temptress… your foot rests atop the coffee table, delicate hands running along your outstretched leg rubbing sweet smelling oil across your skin. Joel knows his body is marred and battered, rough and calloused, he questions why in the hell you’d ever want your silken curves anywhere near him. You switch legs, if only the room was brighter he could turn his head just a bit and look up the towel. 

No need for that, a telepathic wave treads through his brain as he watches you unwrap the towel and toss it aside. Naked and standing only a few feet away from him, he knows it’s not voyeurism when you’re so eagerly inviting him to look but he still feels an inkling of shame. Sweet, sweet girl. Your oil coated palms leave a trail of sheen across the skin he can’t wait to taste. Silently, you saunter over, small bottle of oil in hand, he knows how your skin tingles from the peppermint after applying, he can almost feel it warming his lips. He leans forward, palm instinctively outstretched for you to deposit a few drops of oil into his awaiting hand.  

You turn around and kneel on the floor, his hands start at your shoulders lightly rubbing across your skin, tracing the path of your spine. He’s hesitant to put too much pressure, always afraid to deface the gorgeous individual you are, neglecting the fact that this always leads to you heedlessly asking him for more. The oil smooths his movements, your head bobs back and forth melting into his touch. There’s no type of divinity he’d ever worship in the apocalypse, but he surely finds devotion with you and the symphony of quiet moans that leave your lips. 

“Feels good,” you whisper. “Thank you.”

He takes a deep breath letting his lungs deflate a long exhale, your gratitude unlocking another long buried sense of ease. Manners are lost in this world, you’re such a rarity. 

He doesn’t count himself as a lucky man, but when you turn around and nuzzle your clean face against his soot and dirt covered jeans he just might feel like he’s won the lottery. You plant a kiss against his bulge before pulling yourself up to straddle his lap. Joel’s hands subconsciously station themselves against your back, fingers lightly digging into your damp skin. Suddenly his back no longer ails him. 

“When’s the last time you bathed Joel?” You’re still warm from your shower, you cover him like a velvet blanket. 

“This morning,” he croaks out, overwhelmed by the sensation of you.   

“Mm. Did you think of me while in it? I know you have a habit of doing that.”

He nods, your eyes pooling with desire at the confession. 

His denim shirt feels constrictive, your bare skin is too tantalizing, he fidgets underneath, restless from the sensation of his heavy clothes. 

No need for that, rattles through his lust-addled brain. Your hands begin deftly unbuttoning his shirt. He loves the way your mouth drops and your head shakes incredulously whenever you get the first glimpse of his bronze skin. He loves that he’s been with you enough to know exactly how you’ll react to him. 

His shirt lands atop the towel.

“Perfect aim,” you smile.

Joel chuckles. You’re the only being on this earth that can make him laugh. 

You lean forward, placing your ear against his heart, he takes the longest, deepest breath getting lost in the moment, forgetting how much he likes to think he can fight this feeling. He can smell your yarrow shampoo mixed with the peppermint, this world literally stinks, and yet here you are fragrant and pleasing. 

Your hand brushes back and forth against a patch of chest hair, the other dragging up and down his arm. He loves when you pet him, nothing calms him more. He still can’t come up with an exact reason why he refuses to let himself have you when you’re the only thing he longs for. You’re torturing him right now, he wishes you were clueless about the power you hold over him. 

He places a kiss on your hair, breathing in your scent, he just can’t help himself.

“Wish I had wallpaper this pretty in my apartment,” you muse. 

“No need for the wallpaper, you’re pretty enough,” it escapes his lips before he can stop it. 

“Oh really?” Pulling back and sitting tall atop his lap, your eyebrow arches. “You think I’m prettier than faded old lady wallpaper?”

God damnit, your mouth is too goddamn smart. 

“You know what I mean.” 

“I do. You’re pretty too.” 

He wants to kiss that godforsaken smug smile off your lips. 

No need for that, crowds his mind, much like your lips do now against his. His mouth opens to accept your tongue. He groans against your mouth when you yank his hair, pulling his head back so you can lick into his mouth. He chases your mouth, sucking your lower lip between his plush lips. Your cunt finds the tent in his jeans and begins rocking against it. Your kiss turns sloppier, tongues rolling against each other, hot breaths intermingling. Your lips move down to nibble his chin, licking your way down to his neck. He growls your name when you clamp down and suck the tanned skin into your mouth. 

He needs to feel you against all of his skin. 

He’s never hated his belt more than right now as he clumsily unbuckles it between your writhing hips. 

“Christ,” he barks, quickly unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, you give him a temporary reprieve from your grinding as he raises his hips and yanks his pants down. 

He gathers you into his arms and leans forward, swiping the old books and magazines off the coffee table top laying you across it. 

He kicks out of his jeans, his knees protest as he sinks to his knees in front of you splayed across the oak. 

His eyes roll into the back of his head and flutter shut at the first taste of you. Tangy, sweet, all woman, all his, for as long as he thinks he deserves. 

Sweet, sweet girl.

Your coos and purrs dance through his ears twisting their way into his heart. He licks a stripe up your pussy, swirling his tongue around your clit and flattening against it. Your hands climb all over his hair, grasping and pulling, he loves when you take what you want from him. Forcing him to hand himself over to you, body, mind, soul, heart. Whether that be a shower or his tongue against your pussy.

He could stay here forever, the rest of his body still as a statue, just his mouth allowed to move against your sweet cunt, fucking you with his tongue, massaging your clit with his lips. 

Your hips thrash against his face, legs wrapping around his head, pushing him even farther into your searing pussy. 

He can feel you begin to dissolve into him, your thighs trembling against his ears, the pressure of your legs wrapped around him increasing. He’s encircled by all of your beauty, your slick pours into his mouth as your orgasm explodes into him. He drinks down everything you give him, never able to be greedy outside of his time spent with you writhing and naked under his touch. You unlock your legs, your body still quaking from your climax. 

She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

His cock stands weeping between his legs, he gathers the precum and spreads it across his tip before pumping himself watching your eyes hungrily focus on him. 

You spread your legs farther open with an unspoken invitation for him to take your pussy for his keeping. He accepts it, his wide cock slowly engulfing in your wet heat. 

You gasp and smile at the sensation, he feels his walls crumble.  

God damnit, there’s that damn smile again.

He loves how you take him, drawing your hips against his, the two of you tangled in hedonistic harmony here in this hellhole of a quarantine zone. You’re the only reason he stays. 

He’ll never allow himself to say it, he fights like hell to not feel it, yet another battle he’s going to lose. 

He bends forward, your head pinned between his forearms, he sucks at your lips, you can taste yourself all over his mustache. His cock slides in and out, pace turning more punishing the louder you cry out. Neighbors be damned, you’re the only one he likes, at least they’ll know you’re his. 

His weight presses against you and the rickety coffee table, both shaking as he pummels into your pussy. A crack emits from the leg he’s been meaning to fix, the decrepit coffee table disintegrates underneath all of his power. He’d laugh at his luck if he wasn’t so fucking turned on by you. Joel gathers you in his arms, throwing himself back against the couch, his cock never leaving the heat of your entrance. You sink fully down on him, his cock hitting the gooey spot inside of you that makes you liquefy. 

Sweat drips down his face, he’s so fucking tired already knowing his body will protest everything he’s put it through, but you’re worth it, the strangled noises you’re panting out will soothe his sore muscles come tomorrow. 

He nips at your jaw, licking the sheen of sweat on your skin and tasting the prickling peppermint. His nails rake against your back, you’re so fucking smooth, the harder you ride him, the deeper his nails press into your skin. 

Your body grows tense above him, his lips crush against yours wanting to gulp down all of your screams. You’re shattered by him again, his cock feels like the only thing tethering you down to this earth. He’s close, so fucking close. His orgasm has been waiting for you to pulse around his cock, your softness squeezing his last bit of resolve. 

Joel pulls out, immediately bemoaning the cruelty of not being able to cum inside you. One, two, three, pumps and he’s cumming against your stomach, your head angling down, wide eyes watching as the white ropes drip down your skin. 

Your ear finds his heart again, Joel knows it’s racing and you can hear it. He kisses your hair, humming a satisfied groan. Little does he know this is your favorite part of your shower visits, knowing that for just a short period of time you’ve made him happy. 

“I guess you’re going to need a new table.”

“I’ll be able to fix it, used to be a contractor.”

He surprises himself at the divulgence, reminding him to keep you at arms length, you’re too good for him. 

No need for that.

[sluts4matt]

chris fucking the silent treatment out of you?! like hello?! need it rnnnnn

SILENT TREATMENT

pairing: dom!chris x latina!reader

summary: you were known to be a bit petty, so giving your boyfriend the silent treatment wasn't out of your comfort zone. chis, however, decides he can't go more than a day without hearing your voice. no matter the way he's hearing it.

warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (female receiving), spanking, slight choking, praising, pet names

word count: 978

author's note: might honestly be one of my favorites. class project is all time at the moment though. i hope i did your request justice. don't be afraid to request more 🫶

"really, we're still doing this shit ma?" chris asks, walking into his bathroom as you were doing your skin care. you looked at him, pressing your lips in a thin line before going back to your face. "oh c'mon, i apologized already."

you didn't respond, only continuing to lather your face with a cleanser. chris rolled his eyes, watching you through the mirror. you were supposed to have a small date, nothing too big. he promised since he had been busy recently.

but once again, he had to cancel because he was needed at the warehouse. it was a stupid reason not to be talking to chris. you knew that nick told you that last night. but you didn't care.

chris huffed, "so what, i can't do anything to get you to talk to me again?"

you put down the product in your hand, turning to look at him. chris' face brightened up, expecting a response. but fell again when you pushed past him to grab a rag from the rack.

he shook his head, "so you're gonna keep playing like this? not responding or looking at me." again, no answer. you were going to continue your routine as if he wasn't in the room with you.

"no fucking way," chris said, grabbing you by the wrist and spinning you around. "stop being a brat and talk to me ma, wanna hear that pretty fucking voice," he says, bringing your hand up to his mouth.

he places a kiss on your wrist, keeping his eyes on yours. you swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to remain unbothered. "really, no words?" he questions. you shake your head, moving your hand back.

"that's okay, i got ways to make you speak," he smirks. next thing you know you were being turned around, and your pajama pants and underwear were being tugged down. your heart dropped, and your legs were pressed together.

chris' hands gripped your hips, pushing you against the sink. "spread for me, ma," he says, slapping the inside of your thigh.

you did as you were told, biting your lip to silence yourself. his hands gripped your ass, kneading the flesh in his hands as he stood behind you. one of his hands worked at his sweats while the other pushed your cheek against the cool, marble counter top.

your ass was in the air, and chris was admiring the view. "i know you got a voice in there, so don't hold back on me baby," he says, lining his cock up to your pussy. the tip nudged your clit, causing you to shudder.

one of your arms goes near your mouth, you teeth latching onto the flesh as he pushes himself in, stretching you out. "shit, so fuckin' tight for me," chris grunts, bottoming out. his pelvis was pressed against your ass, his body was leaning over yours.

"don't even need lube for you, huh?" he chuckled mockingly, "always so fucking wet for me," he adds. his hand reaches for your hair, fisting it before yanking your head up.

you gasp at the pain, feeling his tip push further into you. "now, let me hear that voice," he growls, pulling out and slamming back into you. you shake your head the best you can as you bite down on your lips. the familiar metallic taste filling your senses.

"so, that's how it's gonna be," chris chuckles, "okay." his hips begin to pick up the pace, his other hand digging into the skin of your left leg as he lifts it onto the counter. the new angle having him hit a different part of you that hasn't been hit before.

a muffled moan slips through, but chris still caught it. "there she is," he grins, pulling your hair more as his hips slap against your ass. the lewd sound of his hips meeting yours along with the squelch of your pussy fills the room.

his hand that was holding your leg leaves, landing a hard slap on your ass. the sudden sting made you cry out. "sound so pretty," chris praised, "let me hear it all, ma."

with a nod of your head, he begins to pound into you, making your head bounce as he slams his cock into you. your eyes begin to water, the pleasure and pain mixing together. "fuck, fuck so good," you babble, feeling the familiar coil in your stomach.

chris chuckles, "look so pretty, taking my cock like this. think you can take it harder baby?" he asks, and you quickly nod. his grip on your hair loosens, and his other hand grabs your shoulder as his hips begin to snap against yours harder than before.

tears streamed down your cheeks as you cried out, nothing but loud whines and pornographic moans leaving your lips. his grip was sure to leave bruises, and your scalp was throbbing.

the coil was becoming too much, and you felt yourself coming undone. "c-chris," you cry, "i'm cumming, shit i'm cumming." the words left your lips in a babble, your cunt clenching around him. "cum on my dick, baby. fuck yes," he grunts, his hips never faltering.

your body went limp in his hold, you eyes rolling back as your mouth fell open. he fucked you through the orgasm, his own not far behind. a few more thrusts and he was pulling out, stroking his dick as he released on your ass.

your knees buckled, but his arm held you up. "gonna talk to me now, ma?" he breathed, his chest heaving as the two of you caught your breath. you nodded your head, a smile tugging on your lips.

"good, let's go get you cleaned up," he says, spinning around and lifting you up. you wrapped your legs around his waist, your head resting on his shoulder as he carried you to the shower.

tag list:

@hysteria-things @tillies33ssss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @sturniolossss @freshsturns @lily-strnlo @etvar12 @iloveurgf @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloa @chrryclouds @sturniolho @mayhem-72 @nicksmainbitch @sturniolowhore

[heyitswil]

New York 3/4 Bath

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stray Kids Reaction - You Disappear While Pregnant [Mafia Edition]

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - January 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

TW: mentions of violence, blood and swearing

CHAN:

Things had been feeling weird all day to Chan, you hadn't replied to any of his messages when usually you were the text-back immediately type of person - with him at least. But he tried to put off the uneasy feeling he got when he thought about it all, the two of you were strong as a couple and him worrying you about not replying wasn't the type of man that he was.

"Changbin, make sure Yn has had something to eat today," Chan said as he came through the door of your shared home, expecting to see you curled up on the sofa doing something but you were nowhere to be seen. It was unlike you to not come and greet him so he figured maybe you were tired and had gone to sleep. Maybe even just popped into the garden and hadn't heard him arrive home.

"She's not here," Changbin called from upstairs, panic began to wash over Chan as he thought through his day. You hadn't said anything the night before about going out and you hadn't been responding to him. Within seconds Chan was making his way up the stairs and into your shared bedroom where he found some of your clothes missing and a suitcase was gone too.

"Fuck! Fuck!" Chan screamed making his way to the bathroom and finding a bunch of your overnight supplies were missing too. This wasn't like you, you weren't the type to run away and it wasn't as though the two of you had just had a fight. Everything was going great for you both, god, you were getting married in less than a year now and Chan thought everything was okay.

"I've started a search and Felix is watching the cameras to see where she went. We'll find her." Changbin said as he watched Chan in the bathroom, he was just sitting on the edge of the tub looking down at the floor trying to rack his brain for any reason you might have done this.

"Just find her, tell me when you do but don't make a move." He mumbles, standing up from the side of the tub and knocking over a bin failing to notice the positive pregnancy test that had fallen onto the floor. 

It had been eight months since you walked out on Chan and they had been the worst eight months of your life, every day was a struggle and it didn't help that you were pregnant.

"Not now, please not now." You groaned as you held onto your bump, letting out a sharp breath as you tried your best to ignore the pain in your back. God, it felt as though someone was stabbing you repeatedly as you prayed for the train to hurry and arrive where you needed to be.

"Mummy, that woman peed herself." A little girl giggled before the train stopped and you hurried off of it and in the direction of some metal seats on the train station platform. It wasn't time, it was too early for the baby to be coming right this second and you were nowhere near a doctor and you weren't about to give birth to your baby on a train platform. 

"Do you need me to call you an ambulance?" The mother of the little girl asked as she made her way over to you, you studied her face for a second before nodding your head. You'd grown a little paranoid since running away from Chan, you knew he was probably doing everything within his power to find you and it wasn't something you wanted to happen. You needed him to stay away from you,

"That won't be necessary." A voice said from the side, you stared over in the direction to see a very panicked-looking Chan making his way toward you. There was sweat dripping down his forehead and he was red in the face, clearly, he'd been running but you had no idea how he'd found you. You weren't in Seoul anymore, you left the second you had the chance to.

"She needs medical attention, she's in labour." The woman argued but you couldn't get words out to tell her to stop you were in far too much pain.

"I'll get her to the hospital," Chan said before Felix and Jeongin escorted the lady and her daughter away and you whimpered a little.

"Channie-" You whimpered out, tears streaming down your cheeks,

"It's nice to know you still like that nickname," His voice came out cold as a group of men began to make their way over to you and you stared at the one in the centre before trying to get up.

"Sit." He ordered gently placing his hand on your shoulder.

"I-I need to go, I can't be near you." You hissed trying to move but Chan was holding your hand, refusing to let you go.

"C-Channie please." You begged your eyes scanning the man at the other end of the platform.

"He said we can't...W-We can't be together." Just like that everything began to click into place for Chan. The only reason you'd left the way you did months ago was because of Hongjoong, he'd told you that it wasn't the right thing for Chan and threatened you to leave without saying anything.

"Who did?" He growled out, your eyes flicking behind him.

"Hongjoong...He said a baby will ruin things." Time suddenly moved slowly as you watched Chan stare over at his advisor and back down at you.

"That's why you ran?" You hated that you couldn't answer him with words and nodded at him.

“Fuck what they think, fuck what anyone thinks. It won't ruin anything, our little baby will only make things better." He promised you as you heard sirens coming.

He was right, of course, he was he always was, but your little girl had only made things better between you and Chan and even made some of his men more loyal to him. They protected you more than ever whenever you were out alone with just you and your little girl and Hongjoong had been demoted so he was no longer able to speak to you - something you'd begged Chan to do instead of killing the man

MINHO:

Everything was too much when you were with Minho and everything pushed you over the edge until there was no coming back from it.  For a while, it seemed that all the two of you ever did was fight and scream at one another and you'd finally had enough and just left. No note, you'd choose a week where you knew he was going to be so busy with his own world that he wasn't going to notice you gone. A week gave you enough time to disappear into the world with a new identity and to create a whole new life for yourself.

Or so you'd thought.

It had been even harder to do this for yourself since you happened to be pregnant. Something you had no idea at the time of running away until it was too late. It wasn't until your third month when you found out and there was no way you were going back, even if you didn't think you could raise a baby alone you were still going to do everything within your power to try.

"Are you sure you're okay walking home alone? I can get Angel to walk with you." Your boss stated as he watched you heading for the door of the bar. Angel was one of the bouncers who worked there, someone who looked like he could scare the stripes off a tiger.

"Nah, I'm good. I'll catch the train so there's no point." You shrugged before heading out into the dark of the night and making your way through the alleyway.

For eight months your life had been good, you'd gotten away from Seoul and everyone who ever knew you, you had a new identity you went by and no one could connect you to Minho anymore. You worked your own job, had your own place - sure it wasn't the best but it was still home - and your boss was even letting you bring your kid to work since he knew how badly you needed the money.

"So this is where you've been hiding?" A voice sounded from behind you and you didn't need to see him to know it was Minho and it felt like your whole world was coming down around you.

"How did you find me?" Your voice shook but you didn't turn around to face him just yet, you didn't know if he knew about your pregnancy.

"It wasn't easy. I taught you well."

"I was a fast learner." You mumbled a little, you knew this was going to end with him seeing your bump but you couldn't bring yourself to face him.

"Why did you run off, little bird?" The nickname he had for you made your heart flutter and you hated that he still had that kind of effect on you after all this time. But then again, it didn't matter how much time passed you still found yourself hopelessly in love with him.

"I had my reasons." You pulled your coat tighter around yourself but it did little to hide the bump that you were sporting,

"Another man?" You scoffed a little at him you both knew that there was no way you'd ever do that to him.

"You know I'd never do that."

"True. So what was it?" You heard his steps getting closer to you until he was right behind you and you slowly turned to face him, letting your coat fall down to the sides.

"Pregnant," His voice came out in a whisper and he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"You need to come back." He stated plainly, his eyes not leaving the bump you had but you were shaking your head at him,

“I don't think I can come back. Too much has happened, too much…water has passed under the bridge. I can't do with the fights anymore Minho, I can't." You choked out before you felt a pain in your back and you bent over a little clutching onto your stomach.

"You're pregnant with my child, you're coming home."

"N-No...I need the hospital," You whimpered looking at Minho who was already on the phone to emergency services.

"I've had Felix and Changbin fix the office into a nursery," Minho told you as he walked into the room to see you feeding your little boy.

"Did you tell them about needing to get more diapers?"

"I've got Chan and Seungmin on that job," He smiled proudly walking over and kissing the top of your head. It was going to take a long time to repair your relationship but a family together was something you were going to build from.

CHANGBIN:

You'd walked out on him, you'd just packed up your shit and walked away from him. You'd seen no point in staying in a relationship with someone who was never even there for most of it, missing birthdays and anniversaries that the two of you were supposed to share. You'd just walked out and tried to never look back, but it was damn near impossible when you were pregnant with his kid. Something he was also never there for, he'd never shown any interest in your baby, never came to appointments or shopping with you.

"Do you think he knows we're here?" You asked your bump as you looked out of the window. You were six months pregnant and constantly on the run which wasn't good, your doctors told you it wasn't good but what were you meant to do when one of the most powerful men in the world was looking for you?

There were sirens outside and you slid back into bed, sighing a little as you tried your best not to focus on what was going on outside. You were in one of the sketchiest neighbourhoods you'd ever seen and you were praying the lock you had on the door would be enough to keep you safe tonight.

“I've already lost her once I'm not going to lose her again,” Your eyes flew open and you saw Changbin standing at the end of your bed but it wasn't the room you'd fallen asleep in. Instead, all of the walls around you were white and there was a loud beeping coming from the side of you

"What the fuck?!" You screamed as you stared at him and then at the other men trying to see if you knew any of them but none of them felt familiar to you.

"Leave," Changbin ordered making a bunch of men you'd never seen before leave the room and you stared at him confused as to how he'd gotten you to a hospital without you waking up once.

"Glad you finally woke up princess," He sat down beside your bed and you stared at him, studying his face before folding your arms over your chest.

"You've resorted to kidnapping now?"

"If it means you'll come home, yes." You roll your eyes at him, of course, he would expect you to just come home after he'd done nothing to fix what he did in the past.

"Why? So you can ignore me and the baby for the rest of our lives?" You hissed bitterly before Changbin's hand took yours and he shook his head at you.

"I would never-"

"You never came to any appointments, you always forgot our anniversaries and my birthday. I was going to put our son through that!" You cut him off angrily and his eyes softened,

"He's a boy?" Tears began to build up in his eyes as he stared at you and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

"Yes...Yes, he's a boy." You mumbled before looking at the screen beside your bed, your heart rate and your son's were both displayed on the screen.

"I'll have them fix the nursery then. I'd been painting it to be pink." He chuckled a little taking his phone out of your pocket and leaving you even more confused than before.

"What?"

"I hadn't been ignoring you...w-well I had but I'd been working on a surprise. I was convinced we were having a girl so I had the nursery made up pink." He admitted before you whimpered a little.

"You did all of that?" You quizzed wondering where this side of him had been the whole time you’d known him

"I did, I would never just ignore you." You sniffled a little as tears began to roll down your face.

"You still kidnapped me." You reminded him as if he could ever forget. He’d spent months tracking you down and it was the best plan he’d ever done.

"With good reason." He added with a sly smirk making you giggle a little at him

"Still a crime," 

"When has that ever bothered me?" He smirked before kissing you gently.

HYUNJIN: EXTRA TRIGGER WARNING! Reader is slapped by a third party!

You slowly lifted your head and looked around your surroundings, nothing had changed in god knows how long you'd been here and you don't know why you held out hope for it to chance in the first place. The men that had taken you told you that the only reason you weren't dead was because of the baby, something that they were going to use as leverage over your husband.

"Morning sunshine, want some food?" One of the men - Lucas as you found out - taunted as he waved around food in front of you before eating it and making lewd sounds about how good it tasted. All of them made you feel physically sick to your stomach, they would taunt you with food or drinks whenever they had it only to give you just enough table scraps to keep you healthy.

"Hyunjin is going to kill you when he finds me." You spat out, looking up at the ceiling and whimpering a little. You were about eight months pregnant which meant at any point any stress could send you into an early labour and you were doing everything within your power to make sure it didn't happen. You weren't going to let a group of men take your daughter away.

"If he finds you, any day now you're going to pop, give us what we want and we'll kill you." You swallowed the lump in your throat because you knew he was right. If Hyunjin hadn't found you by now then there was a slim chance that he wasn't going to find you before you gave birth and it worried you.

You'd always had faith and trust in your husband but you didn't know how many days or even weeks you'd been here, you'd lost count since the men would sedate you to move you from a bed and back to a chair where they left you tied up for hours.

"The doc is coming later to check on the baby," Croft said as he looked at Lucas who simply nodded at him and went back to eating his food in front of you. 

The doctor who had come to see you was really nice, great even and you could have sworn you'd seen him before.

"The baby is healthy, both of them have a healthy heartbeat but there is one slight problem." Your heart broke at the idea of a problem with your child.

"Is she okay?!" You panicked earning a slap across the face from Lucas for speaking out when you weren't supposed to and you whimpered looking down at the floor.

"The child is fine, the problem is Lucas." Before Lucas could question what was happening shots rang out throughout the warehouse and multiple men were shot dead on the floor leaving just you, the doctor and Lucas alive with a gun pointed at his head.

"Cut her free," The doctor ordered as a metal shutter began to open, you squinted in the direction and saw Hyunjin making his way through with a giant smile on his face.

"I knew you'd come but what took so fucking long!?" You screamed as you were finally free from the chair and slowly stood up.

"The little rat is too good at covering his tracks," Hyunjin grumbled as he held your face in his hands turning it from side to side as if he were checking you over. Once he saw that you were fine he let you go and turned his focus on the man that had taken you.

"You know," You started as you stared around the warehouse where about 60 of Hyunjin's men were waiting with their guns trained on him,

“There’s an unspoken rule where if this many people are trying to kill you, then you should be dead already.” You grumbled before Hyunjin wrapped his arm around you and nodded at his men, giving them the all clear for what they needed to do.

JISUNG:

What on earth made you think that you could do this? You couldn't do this and you were nowhere near ready like you thought you were. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you laid your head back on the edge of the bathtub, the water filled with blood and whatever else was coming out of you at this point and you cried to yourself.

"Fucking arsehole!" You screamed gripping the edges of the grungy tub that you were laid in, screaming out in agony as you tried to do the breathing techniques you'd been reading about. 

Everyone had told you how beautiful birth was going to be but none of them told you about the pain you were going to feel, like how you felt as though someone was ripping you apart from your vagina. No drugs to help you, no one to tell you if you were dilated.

You were alone and in some sketchy neighbourhood and a dirty apartment with no one around you. No friends, no husband, completely alone because everyone had forgotten about you and left you behind.

"Why did you have to come now?! You couldn't have waited a few more weeks?!" You yelled through the tears, ignoring the sirens that were outside of the apartment building that you were currently residing inside. It was every day that sirens went flying through and you'd tried to drown them out but now it was impossible, you prayed that they were somehow for you. That Jisung had finally remembered you and came to get you but no hope.

Hongjoong had told you that Jisung would come and get you within a month of you hiding out in the "safe home" but it didn't feel much of a safe home when you were in the worst neighbour imaginable and felt at threat every second of the day. You did some deep breathing as you heard someone pounding on the door, probably telling you to be quiet but you were about to give birth in a tub there was no being quiet.

"Fuck...y-you," You whispered suddenly feeling as though your eyes were too heavy to keep open and you looked down at the water, it had to be time to push surely. There was no way you could keep going through all of this pain.

"Yn?!" The door to the bathroom burst open and Jisung was staring at you, wide-eyed as he took in the scene around him

"What are you-" Before he could finish asking you let out a loud scream as another contraction hit you and he was on his knees on the floor beside the tub.

"I've got you." He whispered as men rushed into the scene, looking away from your naked body.

“I feel like everyone just forgot I existed," You whispered out to Jisung, looking at him a little unsure if any of this was even real at his point.

"I killed Hongjoong," He mumbled wiping sweat off your forehead,

"Baby he made it look like you ran away, left me a note...I-I had no idea where you were." The pain from the birth and heartache all crashed into one as sobs began to leave your throat.

Weeks of hospital treatment later you were home once again but on bed rest, Jisung's orders not the doctor's. He was refusing to let you move for as long as humanly possible and did everything he could for you.

"I'm okay, I can run my own bath." You told Jisung as you watched him running a bubble bath for you while your baby slept soundly in the bedroom.

"I want to do this for you." He whispered as you held him from being. He was doing everything he could to make up for you being alone all this time, the guilt was overwhelming for him but you hadn't blamed him for a second.

FELIX:

Your head was killing you when you woke up and you tried to lift your hand to your head but it was met with resistance and the sound of metal clanging on the floor. You weren't home that was for sure and if you were you were going to kick your husband's butt for some silly prank he was pulling.

"What the fuck?" You looked at your wrists and saw a metal cuff around them and down at your ankles it was the same. Your eyes shot around the room and you saw a camera in the corner facing you and it had a blinking red light, meaning it was recording or live.

"Who the fuck are you?! What do you want?!" You did your best to sound as confident as possible but it was impossible since you had no idea who had taken you in the first place.

"Someone who wants revenge." A voice sounded before a door opened and an elderly man walked in with the help of a cane,

"Your husband took something...someone from me and I plan to do the same." He stepped closer to you and you were able to see a huge scar down the left side of his face and you instantly knew who he was. Jan was one of the men Felix had to take down in order for him to become who he is today, one of the biggest mafia leaders in the country. 

"He didn't kill your daughter, your own men did." You spat out knowing the story of his daughter already. Felix had tried to save her, getting her out of the house before he burnt it down but Jan's own men took her back into the building, shooting her to make it look like Felix had done it.

"You're a silly brainwashed little girl, your husband took what was mine and now I will do the same." He reached out to touch your bump and you slapped his hand away, you were almost ready to pop which made you more scared for your daughter's life.

"He'll kill you." You grumbled rubbing your bump as you stared at the man who simply smirked at you.

"Actually, he'll do everything he can to find you and slip up. I'll be waiting for him with his daughter in my hands and his wife dead beside me." You felt sick as he walked out of the room, slamming and bolting it shut before you leaned your head back on the wall.

"You stay in there as long as possible, you don't come early." You mumbled to your stomach, whimpering at the thought of this all happening.

As soon as Felix found out that you were missing he knew who was responsible, it really didn't take a genius to figure it out either and Jan hadn't been the sneakiest of people when it came to plans.

"I want men at every entrance, dead on sight," Felix ordered into the earpiece as he sneakily made his way toward the basement window. Men had been watching the building for a week now trying to find weak points in the security system and there was one. There were no guards, no cameras. It was just Jan on his own in a house that seemed to be abandoned,

"Lix?" You whispered when you saw him at the window, a smirk on his lips as he began to break it open, sliding through it with ease.

"How-" Before you could ask the door was opened and men came through, your men who were all smiling at you happy to see you were okay.

"Where's Jan?" You asked as you made your way through the home and up the stairs, a car was failing to start out in the drive and you all began to make your way in the direction. The frail-looking man looked panicked as he tried to start the engine of a very run-down-looking car.

“Running doesn't matter i’ll hunt you down if you do," Felix said loud enough for him to hear but Jan continued to try the engine again and again until clouds of dark smoke left the hood before he was pulled from the car and dragged toward a van.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" You shook your head, for the most part, he'd left you alone and just fed you and let you use the bathroom but Felix was still going to make him pay for taking you.

SEUNGMIN:

The old lady you'd made friends with over the last month was holding your hand as she walked you around the small spare room in her home. This wasn't supposed to be happening right now, you were supposed to be long gone from Seoul before you gave birth but it seemed as though your son was going to come earlier than you wanted him to.

"We should get you to a hospital," She told you as you gripped onto her hand and shook your head, hosptials meant that Seungmin could track you down and you'd been doing everything you could to stay off his radar and you were going to keep it that way.

"He'll find me, he can't find me." You pleaded, she knew your story and why you'd run away but for the whole month she'd known you she had been trying to convince you to go back to Seungmin and have him be there with you.

"He should be here for the birth of his son." She scolded and you rolled your eyes at her. No one seemed to understand why you'd walked away from him, the two of you were fighting more than usual. You'd heard him say he wasn't even sure he wanted a child and so you didn't give him a choice, you ran.

"He said he wasn't sure he wanted him, I took the choice away." You groaned before bending over with your palms flat on the bed, screaming out in agony as a contraction hit you.

"I'm sure he was just nervous and he never meant it," She pleaded with you before the door opened and someone walked inside. Your head slowly looked behind you and you groaned seeing your husband standing there with a doctor by his side.

"You called him?!" You screamed trying to push her hands off you as Seungmin walked over to you but the lady continued to hold onto you, rubbing your lower back.

"Of course she did, you really think I'd let you get that easy?!"

"You said you weren't sure you wanted him. I took the choice away from you, leave." You hissed out but he shook his head at you,

“Aren't you tired? Can we stop this and give our hearts a rest?” You hated that he sounded so poetic when all you wanted to do was hate him,

"She's almost ready," The old lady mumbled as you shook your head there was no way you wanted to do this here, you wanted drugs to numb the pain anything, 

"You need to push," Seungmin told you as he held onto your hand, your eyes meeting his as you let out a whimper,

"I'm not ready, we're not ready!" You yelled and he chuckled a little kissing your cheek.

"No one is ever ready baby." He held onto your hand and you whined out knowing that it was time to push.

As soon as Seungmin was holding your son in his hands he was smiling at you,

"I-I'm sorry I ever doubted this," He told you as he held onto his son's tiny hand, watching him sleep peacefully in his arms as you laid your head on Seungmin's shoulder tiredly.

"If you ever say it again, we will be gone and you will never find us," You warned him as he nodded at you, kissing the top of your head as he promised that it would never happen again.

JEONGIN:

You had no idea what you were thinking when you'd disappeared months ago, there was no way that you were ever going to do this alone. Maybe if it had just been you on your own everything would have been fine but after running away you found out that you were pregnant. The only reason you'd run was because you were scared of the life he led, you weren't sure it was something you could see yourself in but ever since you discovered you were pregnant you knew you needed to come back.

Your child deserved a father in their life, even if it meant co-parenting instead of getting back together with him but you still loved Jeongin. You didn't think you could ever stop loving him for that matter.

"Yn?" Jisung whispered as you waited inside one of the buildings that Jeongin owned, you knew sooner or later one of his men would see you and tell Jisung or even bring you to him.

"Hey, is Jeongin around?" You weren't showing yet, no one would know that you were pregnant by looking at you and you were thankful for that.

"In his office, I'll take you up." Jisung took your arm gently and began to take you up. It had been a weird few months with their boss who lashed out at everyone who was close to him and refused to speak to anyone unless he needed to.

"What?!" Jeongin snapped as Jisung knocked on the door and walked inside. As soon as Jeongin turned around you felt guilt prickling your skin, he looked rough and that was putting it lightly.

He hadn't shaven in months, he was sporting a full beard which you assumed was to hide all of the bags under his eyes.

"Yn?" His voice broke but he quickly cleared his throat as he stared at you, not moving from his chair. He was too scared that if he did you'd suddenly disappear again.

"Hi." You mumbled a little as Jisung silently left the room, shutting the door behind him and leaving you alone with the man you loved.

"What can I do for you?" He asked, putting on his business voice as you slowly stepped toward the desk and dropped the ultrasound photos down onto the desk.

"I don't want money...I want you in the kid's life, even if you don't want me." You told him as you watched him slowly pick up the photos, you waited for him to question if it was even his but those questions never came. 

"Move in, we'll create a nursery...we'll have everything ready."

"You'll forgive me? Just like that?" You were stunned at how he was just ready to throw everything into the past and come back to you. You expected some kind of resistance from him, or that he'd want a paternity test.

"You're the mother of my child...the love of my life, you could stab me and I would forgive you." You scoffed a little at him, of course, he would say something like that.

"That's toxic." You smirked at him before he shook his head at you.

"Shut up." He grumbled before shaking his head at you and looking back at the photos with tears in his eyes.

"You need to shave, I won't come back until the beard is gone." You told him as he moved to hold you in his arms.

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[pucksandpower]

What Happens in Vegas

Max Verstappen x Red Bull driver!Reader

Summary: the morning after the Las Vegas Grand Prix, you wake up with one new wedding ring and zero clue about what happened … or who your husband is

You wake up with a pounding headache, the sunlight filtering through the curtains feeling like daggers in your eyes. Groaning, you roll over and glance at the clock on the nightstand.

12:37 pm.

Far later than you would normally sleep, but given the circumstances, not entirely surprising.

The night before was the Las Vegas Grand Prix and things had gotten a little out of hand afterwards. Okay, more like a lot out of hand.

The details are fuzzy but you vaguely recall dancing on a table at some point and did someone get pushed into the hotel fountain?

Ugh. You make a mental note to apologize to whoever ended up taking an unexpected late-night swim last night.

Sitting up slowly, you rub your temples, trying to ease the jackhammer currently going off in your head. Getting blackout drunk maybe wasn’t the most professional move, but hey, what happens in Vegas and all that.

You stumble into the bathroom, turning on the faucet and splashing some cold water on your face. As you reach for a towel, the glint of metal on your left hand makes you pause.

No. It can’t be.

But there it is, a simple gold band around your ring finger.

A wedding ring.

Your wedding ring, apparently.

“What the hell?” You mutter, staring at your reflection in disbelief.

You rack your brain, trying desperately to remember what happened last night. But it’s no use, the details are lost in an alcohol-induced haze.

You married someone last night. In Vegas. While ridiculously drunk.

This is bad. Really bad.

Your career, your reputation, everything is on the line here. Who knows what kind of scandal this could cause if word got out? You need to figure out who you married and do damage control, fast.

Taking a deep breath, you try to calm the rising panic. Freaking out won’t solve anything right now. You need answers and sitting here panicking won’t get you any. Time to do some investigating.

You quickly throw on some clothes and head downstairs to the hotel lobby. The drivers had agreed to meet for brunch today before getting thoroughly wasted last night. Maybe one of them knows something.

As you step out of the elevator, you immediately spot a group of your friends chatting in the lobby. Max, Charles, Lando … the usual suspects.

Lando is the first to spot you. “Well good morning, Mrs. Lando Norris,” he says with a cheeky grin.

You freeze. No way. There’s no way you married Lando. The kid is like a little brother to you. An obnoxious, hyperactive little brother. But Lando just laughs at your stunned expression.

“Kidding! You should see your face right now,” he giggles. Little punk. But at least that rules out Lando as your surprise husband.

You roll your eyes and shove Lando playfully before turning to the others. “So, crazy night last night, huh?” You say, aiming for nonchalance.

Max shrugs. “I mean, it’s Vegas. Things do tend to get wild.”

“Right, wild,” you echo. Time to cut to the chase. “So wild that I ended up getting married apparently.”

You hold up your left hand, wedding ring glinting in the light. The others stare at it then at each other, puzzled.

“Wait, you actually got married last night?” Charles asks incredulously.

You throw your hands up in exasperation. “Yes! And I have no idea who I married. Come on mates, you must remember something from last night that can help me figure this out.”

But their faces are blank, everyone shaking their heads. Useless, the whole lot of them.

You turn to Max, who averts his eyes, looking uncomfortable.

“Max, come on. You always know everything that happens on these nights out. Help me out here,” you plead.

Max shuffles his feet, not meeting your gaze. “I mean, it was pretty crazy. I was very drunk too,” he mumbles.

You sigh in frustration. Clearly you’re not getting anywhere with this group. You need to try someone else, someone who maybe left the party early last night.

You recall Fernando complaining about the horrible music at one point. Bingo.

“Alright, I gotta go see if I can find someone who can get me answers,” you announce. “You drunkards are no help.”

As you turn to leave, Charles calls after you, “Let us know if you find out who the unlucky guy is!” This earns snickers from Lando and Max.

You shake your head and head out to find Fernando. That Spaniard better have some useful information or there will be hell to pay.

One thing is certain, you will get to the bottom of this. You need to find out who this mystery husband is, sort out this mess, and most importantly, get this ring off your finger before the media catches wind of your drunken Vegas wedding.

This is going to be one hell of a day.

***

After leaving the unhelpful group in the lobby, you set out to find Fernando. The Spaniard has always had a keen eye for details. If anyone saw what happened last night, it would be him.

You find Fernando sitting alone at a table in the closest coffee shop, sipping an espresso. He looks irritatingly fresh-faced and put together given the wild night you all had.

“Well good morning, chiquita,” he says with a smirk as you plop down across from him. “You look like you had quite the night.”

You scowl at him. “No thanks to you. Leaving the party early again, I see.”

Fernando shrugs. “What can I say? I’m getting too old for these Vegas nights out with you crazy kids.”

You roll your eyes dramatically. “Oh yes, grandpa, you’re soooo old at 42. Anyway, I need your help figuring something out.”

You hold up your left hand, the wedding ring glinting under the lights. “Any idea how this might have ended up on my finger last night?”

Fernando raises an eyebrow, looking far too amused. “Well well, our little Y/N got married in Vegas. Who’s the lucky man?”

You huff in annoyance. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out! I don’t remember anything from last night. But I woke up this morning hungover as hell with this on my hand.” You waggle your finger for emphasis.

Fernando sits back, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, interesting. And you say you remember nothing?”

“Nothing!” You exclaim, throwing your hands up. “Everything after the third tequila shot is a total blank. Please tell me you saw something that can help me out here.”

You give Fernando your best pleading puppy dog eyes but the Spanish driver just shakes his head.

“Sadly, I did not witness this alleged wedding. I turned in early, unlike you wild youths.”

You groan and let your head fall to the table. “This is bad, Fernando. Really bad. I could lose my seat over this if the team finds out I pulled a stunt like this. I need to figure out who I married!"

Fernando pats your head condescendingly. “There there, I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. Your secret is safe with me.”

You peer up at him suspiciously. “Just how secret is this? The smirk on your face makes me think you know something.”

The smirk widens. “Maybe I know something, maybe I don’t. But I’m not going to spoil the surprise for you.”

“Nando!” You smack his arm as he laughs. “This isn’t funny! Just tell me who I married!”

“Nope,” he says, popping the P obnoxiously. “It is too entertaining watching you squirm.”

You let out a frustrated growl. “You’re the worst. I don’t know why I bothered asking you for help.”

“Because you love me, that’s why,” Fernando says with a cheeky wink.

You can’t help but smile a bit at that. You’ve always had a bit of a soft spot for the menace.

“Ugh fine, keep your secrets,” you concede. “I’ll figure this out without your help.”

You start to stand up but Fernando stops you. “Leaving so soon? Stay, have some breakfast with me. You’re going to need your energy today.”

Your stomach rumbles at the mention of food so you sink back down into your seat. “I guess I could eat something while I plot my next move.”

A waiter comes by and you order a massive plate of food to soak up the alcohol still swimming in your system. As you tuck into your meal, you notice Fernando watching you from across the table, looking thoughtful.

“You know,” he says. “Whoever you ended up marrying ... they are a very lucky man. Underneath this hungover mess, you have a good heart. Don’t be too hard on yourself over one wild night, eh?”

You pause mid-bite, touched by his sincerity. “Thanks, Nando. That really means a lot coming from you.”

He smiles and squeezes your hand briefly before returning to his coffee. The playful twinkle returns to his eye. “Even if you did get married like an idiot last night.”

You snort. “Wow, thanks. Way to ruin the moment there.”

Fernando shrugs, unrepentant. “What can I say? I live to annoy you, little sister.”

You finish up your meal, feeling slightly better with some food in you. As frustrating as that encounter was, at least you can count on Fernando to keep this quiet. Time to go gather more clues.

You stand and point an accusatory finger at Fernando. “This isn’t over. I will get to the bottom of this mystery marriage!”

Fernando just smiles enigmatically. “I have no doubt. Good luck, Mrs. Whatever Your New Last Name Is.”

You stick your tongue out at him maturely and flounce away. That man is infuriating. But the quest continues. Time to find the next driver on your interrogation list.

***

You decide to try your luck with Daniel next. The Aussie partied hard but he’s also a notorious gossip. Maybe he caught wind of something that can point you in the right direction.

You find Daniel lounging by the pool, sunglasses on, basking in the Vegas sun like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

So unfair.

“Hello there, sunshine,” he drawls as you walk up. “Don’t you look fresh as a daisy this fine day.”

You glare at him from behind your own sunglasses. “Stuff it, Ricciardo. I’m only here because I need information from you.”

Daniel gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. “You wound me! Here I thought we were friends.”

“We are friends,” you roll your eyes. “When you’re not being a pain in my ass.”

“A pain in that fine ass of yours? Perish the thought!”

You smack him lightly upside the head and he chuckles. “Alright alright, what do you need from old mate Daniel?”

You plop down in the lounge chair next to him and hold up your left hand. “I need you to tell me anything you know or can remember about how this got on my finger last night.”

Daniel lets out a low whistle. “Well tickle me pink and call me Sheila, Y/N’s gone and got herself hitched in Vegas!”

You shush him frantically. “Keep your voice down! The last thing I need is for this to get out.”

Looking far too delighted by the situation, Daniel leans in conspiratorially. “Right, top secret and all that. Who’s the lucky fella then?”

You sigh. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Everything after we moved on to OMNIA is a total blackout. Please tell me you know something.”

Daniel taps his chin thoughtfully. “Let me think here ... I may have some recollection of the night’s events.”

You perk up. “Yes? Go on then, tell me!”

“I do seem to remember ...” he pauses theatrically, “... that I was your very own ring bearer for the occasion!”

Your face falls. “Seriously? That’s all you’ve got?”

Daniel grins cheekily. “What can I say, it was a beautiful ceremony. I was truly honored to be part of it.”

You smack his arm. “You’re no help at all! Come on, I’m desperate here.”

Daniel laughs and puts up his hands. “Alright, alright, I’m just having a bit of fun with ya. Truth is, I was as pissed as the rest of you lot last night. Don’t remember much myself.”

You sigh. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

Daniel must take pity on your crestfallen face because he places a hand on your shoulder. “Chin up, Y/N. So you got a little wild in Vegas, it happens. I’m sure you’ll get it all sorted out.”

You nod but can’t keep the worry from your face. “I know, it’s just ... this could really screw things up if anyone finds out. I don’t even know who I married!”

“Well then it’s a good thing you’ve got the Honey Badger on the case!” He proclaims cheerfully. “I may not have the details but I’ll sniff around and ask some questions on the down low.”

You smile gratefully. “I appreciate that. Hopefully someone around here knows something.”

Daniel pops to his feet and offers you a hand. “Too right! Now come on, up you get. Let’s go scrounge up some greasy food and hair of the dog for that hangover, eh?”

You let Daniel pull you to your feet, feeling bolstered by his positivity.

As you head towards the sports bar in search of a burger and fries, Daniel slings an arm around your shoulder. “Cheer up! This’ll make for one hell of a story someday. It might even become a Grill The Grid trivia question.”

Despite everything, you have to laugh. Trust Daniel to look for the bright side.

But you still can’t ignore the uneasy feeling in your stomach. You married someone last night. For real. It’s not just some random hookup you can laugh off. There’s a living, breathing person out there who you pledged your life to and you don’t even know their name.

What kind of person did drunk Y/N choose as a life partner? Are they worried about this too? Or are they some opportunistic sleaze looking to take advantage of you?

You shake your head, realizing Daniel is watching you with a quizzical look. No use speculating. Just keep searching for answers, one driver at a time.

***

After saying goodbye to Daniel, you set off in search of Lewis. As the life of every party, surely he has to know the details of your wild night.

You eventually track him down just outside the hotel, walking his beloved bulldog. Lewis grins when he sees you approaching.

“Ah the bride awakens at last! We were wondering when you’d emerge,” he says with a chuckle.

You roll your eyes. “News sure travels fast. I’m guessing Nando blabbed?”

Lewis shakes his head. “When you have an impromptu wedding in the middle of a rager in Vegas, people are going to talk.”

You wince, dreading how far word of this has already spread. But that’s a problem for later. Right now, you need information.

“About that ...” you say. “I don’t suppose you happen to know who I ended up marrying last night?”

Lewis’ grin widens. “Now what kind of best man would I be if I spilled the beans?”

You stare at him in shock. “Best man? You were there?”

“But of course!” Lewis declares. “Had to lend my impeccable fashion sense for your dress. Pulled some strings with a stylist I know and got you all hooked up last minute.”

Your mind is reeling. You got married in an actual wedding dress? This just gets worse and worse.

You wrack your brain trying to picture it. But you have zero memory of any dress. Lewis must read the confusion on your face.

“Don’t worry, I had it safely delivered to your room after you started taking it off in the middle of the club. Though I’m guessing you were in no state to keep track of it,” he chuckles.

You shake your head, still stunned. “I didn’t see any dress in my room. What did you do with it?”

Lewis taps his chin. “You know, I did pop in this morning to check on you but you were still passed out cold. So I had the dress boxed up and sent off to be preserved and framed as a gift.”

He crouches down to scratch Roscoe behind the ears. “That’s from me and this good boy right here. Couldn’t let such a work of art go to waste!”

You’re touched in spite of yourself. “That’s really sweet, thank you. But I would really rather just know who I married right now.”

Lewis stands back up and wags his finger. “Ah ah ah, where’s the fun in that? This is the most entertainment we’ve had all season!”

You groan as Lewis laughs. “Come on, Lew. Have mercy and put me out of my misery here.”

But Lewis just zips his mouth. “My lips are sealed! Don’t you worry though, he’s a great guy. You’ve got my stamp of approval.”

You cross your arms in frustration. Of course Lewis would drag this out like a sitcom. But his clue gives you pause.

“He’s a great guy,” Lewis said. So your mystery spouse is someone Lewis personally knows and actually approves of. That narrows it down a bit.

Lewis gives you an apologetic smile and checks his watch. “I’d best be off. But don’t worry, you’ll figure this out!” He tosses a wink over his shoulder as he saunters away with Roscoe in tow.

You watch them go, mind spinning.

Lewis doesn’t just compliment anyone. So apparently drunk Y/N didn’t marry a total disaster. That’s something at least.

You absently twist the wedding band around your finger. You wish you could remember anything about him, about what happened between you.

Did you have a beautiful ceremony? Exchange heartfelt vows? Share a magical first dance as spouses?

You shake your head ruefully. If so, what a shame not to remember any of it. Here’s hoping that this “great guy” turns out to be someone who can make you fall in love all over again ...

***

You decide on a new approach — find the person who actually married you and your husband last night. Whoever officiated the ceremony must know the identity of your mystery groom.

The only problem is, you have no idea who that could be. It’s not like Vegas chapels employ actual priests or judges to perform marriages. It was probably just some random person licensed to perform marriages.

You start making the rounds of the chapels on the Strip, showing your ring and asking if anyone remembers you coming in during the night. But you have no luck — most of the chapels you try to check in with aren’t even open yet, catering to the drunk impulsive crowd that comes out after dark.

After hours of fruitless searching, you plop down on a bench in front of the Venetian, racking your brain for what to try next.

A group of women in matching Bride Tribe shirts walk by, laughing and chatting in that way only tipsy daytime bachelorettes can.

One of them pauses as they pass and calls out to you. “Hey hun, you look down. Guy trouble?” She gestures to your ring.

You debate waving her off but then reconsider. Maybe a bachelorette party would know their way around the Vegas wedding scene.

“Yeah, you could say that,” you reply. “I’m trying to find the person who married me last night but it was a bit of a ... wild impromptu thing. I don’t even know where it happened.”

The women gasp excitedly. “Oh my god, a drunk Vegas wedding? That’s epic!” Says the one in the rhinestoned Bride To Be sash.

“Epic disaster more like,” you mutter but can’t help smiling. Their enthusiasm is infectious.

The bride puts her arm around you. “Don’t worry sweetie, we’ll help you sort this out! I know all the best chapels.” She turns to her posse. “Ladies, let’s help her track down her mystery hubby!”

You find yourself swept up in the bachelorettes’ mission to assist you. After barraging you with questions about the wedding (“Please tell me you at least had a cute dress?” “Oooh was it Elvis themed?”), they decide that the most likely chapel was The Little Vegas Wedding Chapel off the north end of the Strip.

You all pile into their pink party bus and soon pull up at the aforementioned chapel. The receptionist greets you with a smile. “Welcome ladies! Who’s the lucky bride today?”

The girls nudge you forward. You clear your throat awkwardly. “Well actually, I’m trying to find out if I was a bride here last night.” You show her your ring. “I don’t remember much but I know I got married. I was hoping you might have a record?”

The receptionist types away on her computer, then frowns. “Hmm doesn’t look like we had any late night weddings yesterday. Our last was at 10 pm.”

You sigh but thank her anyway. So much for that idea. At least the bachelorettes are still upbeat as you climb back on their bus.

“No luck there but it was still a fun adventure!” The bride-to-be seems to have all the enthusiasm in the world.

You nod, grateful for their attempts to help. As the bus starts moving, the bride gasps.

“Wait, girls, I think I know where we need to go!” She turns to you excitedly. “There’s this little all-night chapel down on Fremont Street. Our friend Val got married there on a total whim a few years ago and she said it was fabulous!”

A chorus of squeals greets this news. You aren’t sure this is a solid lead, but hey, it’s not like you have any better ideas.

“Alright, let’s give it a shot!”

Twenty minutes later you’re climbing out of the bus in front of a small chapel with a neon 24 Hour Weddings sign. Taking a deep breath, you push through the door into the kitschy Vegas-themed space.

At the front counter is an older man in an Elvis costume that must be at least a size too small. Bingo. You hurry over and show him your ring.

“By any chance did you marry me and some guy last night?”

The Elvis impersonator peers at you for a moment before his face lights up in recognition. “Well slap me sideways, you’re the lovely lady I helped get hitched last night! What a shindig that was!”

Your heart leaps. Finally a lead! “Yes that was me! Do you by chance have a record of who I married?”

Elvis frowns. “You mean you don’t remember the young fella? He was real handsome, said some mighty sweet vows if I recall correctly.”

You shake your head in frustration. So close and yet so far.

Elvis pats your arm. “No worries darling, old Elvis remembers. I gotcha hitched to ...”

You lean forward eagerly as Elvis taps his chin, racking his memory.

“Now let’s see ... young fella you married. He was oh ... a bit taller than you I’d say. Had one of them European accents — German, Swedish, or somethin’ like that. Brown hair I think. A pretty good lookin’ chap. Dressed real sharp too.”

Your heart sinks as Elvis delivers the extremely vague description. Brown hair and a little over your height? Well that only narrows it down to about half of the paddock!

You groan and smack your forehead in frustration. So close! Elvis gives you an apologetic look.

“Aw shucks, wish I could tell ya more little lady. But I was croonin’ so many love songs last night that all you couples started to blend together.”

You force a smile, knowing he did try his best. “That’s alright, I appreciate you checking for me.”

Back outside, you fill in the eager bachelorettes on Elvis’ less than helpful clues. Their excitement deflates a bit.

“Dang, that could be like, anyone!” One says, voicing your thoughts exactly.

The bride-to-be squeezes your shoulder. “Don’t worry hun, we’ll keep thinking! Your mystery man is out there somewhere.”

You give her a grateful hug. “Thanks ladies, for all your help today. I should probably get back to my hotel and keep investigating.”

The gaggle of girls walks you back to the bus, firing off more wild theories about your potential groom.

“Oooh what if it’s that sexy Spanish driver … Alfonso?” Suggests the bridesmaid named Amy.

“It’s Alonso,” you correct with a laugh. She may be way off but you appreciate the enthusiasm.

As you say goodbye to your new friends, your mind is spinning once again. So Elvis confirmed this wedding really happened, though his clues weren’t particularly enlightening.

But he did say one thing — whoever you married gave sweet vows. So apparently in your drunken state, you picked someone who could be sincere and romantic.

That has to count for something, right?

You glance down at the wedding ring on your finger, the physical reminder of the huge secret you’re unraveling. Did you really promise to spend your life with someone here of all places? And do they plan on holding you to that promise?

Your gut twists with anxiety but also a trace of curiosity. Who is this mystery man who can make drunken Elvis shed a sentimental tear?

Whoever he is, you’re going to find him.

***

Exhausted after a day of fruitless searching, you decide to head back to your hotel to regroup. You slump down onto one of the plush couches in the crowded lobby, mind still spinning over the bizarre situation you’ve found yourself in.

Who exactly did you end up pledging eternal devotion to in your drunken stupor last night? So far your quest to unravel this mystery marriage has led nowhere.

But you can’t rest yet. You need answers.

As you sit there contemplating your next move, your phone starts blowing up with Twitter notifications. You blink in surprise. Must be big news dropping for this much activity.

You open the app and nearly swallow your tongue when you see the top trending hashtag: #Y/NMaxWedding.

Your stomach drops to your feet.

No no no, this cannot be happening!

But with a sense of impending doom, you click on the hashtag. Immediately you see the bombshell that has sent your world into a tailspin.

It’s a tweet from a fan account, featuring photos they somehow obtained of a Clark County Nevada marriage certificate between you ... and Max Verstappen. Your teammate.

You stare slack-jawed at the images of the official document signed by you and Max as spouses, clear as day. Your drunken Vegas escapade isn’t a secret anymore. It’s public record, blasted all over social media.

Numb with shock, you scroll through countless tweets analyzing, freaking out over, and cracking jokes about you and Max’s surprise nuptials. Some fans are outraged. Others seem delighted at this bombshell gossip.

You groan, head in your hands. This is an absolute disaster. What was merely a drunken mistake is now immortalized online. There’s no hiding it or hoping it will blow over quietly.

You married Max freaking Verstappen in Vegas. The sometimes arrogant and standoffish but always crazy talented driver you’re teammates with. No wonder he was acting so squirrelly this morning when you asked about the wedding.

Some logical part of your brain knows you need to talk to Max, start figuring out what to do for damage control. But the overwhelmed emotional side just wants to crawl under a rock and hide.

In a daze, you make your way up to your suite. Once inside, you toss your phone onto the bed, not even bothering to read the likely hundreds of texts blowing it up. You are in no state of mind to talk to your manager or team right now.

Collapsing onto the couch, you stare blankly at the wall, feeling numb. Despite all your investigating, a part of you still hoped that maybe it wasn’t real. Maybe the ring and certificate were just part of some elaborate prank.

But there’s no denying it now. You’re well and truly married to Max Verstappen.

A hysterical laugh bubbles out of you. Of all the drivers, of course you had end up with him. Max, your fiercest rival, constantly pushing you to be better. The teammate who drives you crazy but also loves to compete with you and rile you up.

God, your friends are never going to let you live this down. Married to Max. It’s like some cheesy fanfiction brought to life.

You glance over at your silent phone. The logical part of your brain knows you need to call him. You’re going to have to talk about this and figure out what the hell to do next.

But the overwhelmed part wants to put that conversation off indefinitely. You need time to process the bombshell that just upended your life before you can face Max.

Your inner debate is interrupted by a knock at your door. You freeze. No doubt it’s the Red Bull PR team come to scold you or paparazzi looking for a comment on your no-longer-a-secret marriage. Well you have nothing to say to them!

“Go away!” You yell but the knocking persists. With an irritated huff, you wrench open the door, fully prepared to give whoever’s there a piece of your mind.

Instead, you come face to face with the person you least expected but probably most needed to see. Max stands in your doorway, sheepish and awkward.

For several tense beats, you just stare at each other, the weight of this life-altering moment hanging between you.

Finally Max breaks the silence. “So ... quite a day, huh?” He gives an uneasy chuckle.

You continue gaping at him, stunned into silence. Max shuffles his feet, not quite meeting your eyes.

“Can I uh, come in? I think maybe we should talk.”

Wordlessly, you step aside and let him enter the suite. Max perches on the edge of an armchair while you sink onto the couch. More tense silence.

Max clears his throat. “So I’m guessing you’ve seen it?”

You nod mutely. Max sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“Look, Y/N ... I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. But I woke up just as confused as you this morning. Wasn’t totally sure it was even real.”

He hesitates then continues softly. “You were pretty out of it last night. We all were. Getting hitched was obviously crazy but I guess it seemed fun in the moment.”

You shake your head, finding your voice at last. “This goes way beyond fun, Max! We’re married! Actually married!" Your voice edges up hysterically on the last word.

“Yes it was a ... crazy night,” Max laughs nervously.

You scoff bitterly. “That’s putting it mildly. I’d say a drunken Vegas wedding to my teammate counts as more than just crazy!"

Max winces at your tone. “Look Y/N, I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. But we were all wasted last night. I didn’t even remember at first—”

You cut him off sharply. “Well I don’t remember any of it! As far as I’m concerned, this so-called marriage never even happened.”

You begin pacing. “We need to get this annulled immediately before things get worse. It was clearly an idiotic mistake.”

Max frowns, looking hurt. “Whoa, no need to be so harsh. It may have been drunken impulse but ... maybe it was also fate.”

You stop pacing and stare at him incredulously. “Fate? Are you insane?”

He stands and steps towards you. “Hear me out. We’ve been teammates for years now. Maybe deep down we both wanted this.”

Your jaw drops open. Max keeps going.

“I know it’s crazy but what if this marriage was meant to be? We owe it to ourselves to give this a real shot before bailing.”

You gaze at him in disbelief. Is he seriously suggesting ...

“Give this a real shot?” You repeat faintly.

Max takes your hands earnestly. “Yes! We’ve always made a great team on track. Just imagine how great we would be together off track too.”

You open your mouth to argue but Max presses on. “Plus, my children need a mother.”

You yank your hands back in shock. “Children? You have kids?”

“Well, not human kids,” Max admits sheepishly. “But my cats, Jimmy and Sassy! They need a maternal influence.”

Your head spins as you try to keep up with Max’s ramblings. Is he pranking you right now?

He fixes you with his most charming smile. “Come on, wifey. Just give it a chance! We’re clearly compatible if drunk us wanted to get married.”

You stare at him like he sprouted a second head. Max gazes back hopefully. His smile really is kind of adorable ...

No! Snap out of it! This is crazy.

But he does raise some valid points. And backing out now would cause an even bigger scandal ...

You slump down onto the couch with a groan. “Fine! We’ll stay married for now. But we explain to the team it was just drunken foolishness.”

Max pumps his fist. “Yes! See, we’re already compromising with each other. It’s like we’re meant to be husband and wife!”

That finally breaks through your haze of shock. Oh god ... you have to tell Christian Horner that you married Max Verstappen.

***

You take a deep breath as you stand outside Christian’s hotel suite, arm raised to knock. “Ready for this?” You ask Max.

He grimaces. “Ready as I’ll ever be. Might as well get it over with.”

You steel your nerves and rap sharply on the door. After a moment, it swings open to reveal Christian mid-yawn.

“Y/N, Max, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He asks curiously.

You shuffle your feet, not sure how to start. “Uh, hey Christian. Max and I have something we need to discuss with you. Mind if we come in for a minute?”

Christian narrows his eyes but steps aside to let you both in. “What’s this about? I just got off a conference call with the factory team in Milton Keynes and I was finally planning to try my luck with the slots downstairs.”

You perch awkwardly on the edge of an armchair while Max stands next to you stiffly.

How do you even begin to break this kind of news to your boss?

“So Christian, funny story ...” you start lamely.

Max jumps in, deciding to just rip the bandaid off. “We got married last night.”

Christian’s eyes widen comically. For a long moment he just looks between you two like you each have three heads. Then he throws his head back and laughs heartily.

“Good one guys, you almost had me there! Trying to pull one over on your poor old team principal, very funny,” he chuckles, wiping his eyes.

You give a weak smile. “No uh, we’re actually being serious. We got married for real last night.”

Max nods. “It just sort of ... happened.”

Christian collapses onto the sectional, looking between you in shock. “This would be a great time for you to stop with the prank.”

“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” Max says solemnly. “We were drunk and it was all really quite fast ...”

“No no, this must be some kind of joke!" Christian protests, though he’s starting to look uncertain. He grabs his phone off the coffee table. “Let me just check online, there’s no way ...”

His voice trails off as he scans his phone screen, eyes going wide at the headlines. With a low groan, he collapses back into his armchair.

“It’s true? You two actually ...” He drags a hand down his face. “Please tell me this is all some elaborate hoax the internet cooked up. Please tell me that two other people named Max Verstappen and Y/N Y/L/N happened to get married in Vegas last night.”

You shake your head helplessly.

Christian drops his head into his hands with a groan. “Unbelievable. Two of my drivers running off and eloping in Vegas! The media is going to have an absolute field day with this.”

He fixes you both with a stern glare. “Do either of you have any idea the position this puts the team in? The scandal it could cause?”

You hang your head, properly chastised. Max speaks up tentatively. “We’re really sorry, Christian, it was incredibly stupid of us. But it’s done now so we just have to deal with it.”

Christian sighs heavily. “You’re not wrong. The last thing we need is more media drama so we will have to get out in front of this.”

He pauses, regarding you both shrewdly. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ll pursue an annulment right away and we can pretend this never happened?”

You glance at Max, who takes your hand and shakes his head. “We’ve talked it over and want to make this work. It happened for a reason.”

Christian makes a strangled noise. “Make this work? You plan on staying married??” His voice rises in pitch, verging on hysterical.

“We want to try,” you confirm, squeezing Max’s hand.

Christian looks desperately between you two once more before his eyes roll back and he slumps over in a dead faint.

You and Max rush over in concern. “Christian!" Max taps his face urgently. “C’mon, wake up!”

After a few tense moments, Christian’s eyes flutter open. “Wha ... what happened?” He mumbles.

“You passed out when we told you we’re staying married,” you explain sheepishly.

Christian groans, covering his face with his arm. “God help me, this is a nightmare ...”

You have to bite back an inappropriate laugh. Seeing your usually unflappable team principal so flustered would be funny if the situation wasn’t so serious.

Max helps Christian sit up and hands him a glass of water. “Sorry for springing this on you. But we’re going to make the best of it.”

Christian fixes Max with a weary look. “Just promise me no more reckless surprises from you two.”

You and Max raise your right hands in unison. “We promise!”

Taking a deep breath, Christian straightens his shirt and smooths his hair, regaining his composure. “Right. Well this is certainly an unexpected development. But the show must go on.”

He adopts his usual businesslike tone. “We’ll need to draft a press release announcing this immediately and get ahead of the media cycle. No commenting publicly until we strategize.”

You both nod obediently. Christian checks his watch. “I needed to get our PR team on the phone five minutes ago. You two, order room service and lay low until you hear from me.”

He ushers you politely but firmly out the door. As it shuts behind you, you turn to Max with wide eyes. “Well ... that could’ve gone worse?”

Max winces. “I thought Christian was going to burst a blood vessel at first. But it seems he’s taking it in stride.”

You both burst into slightly hysterical laughter, the stress melting away.

Looks like you have a marriage to figure out how to actually make work.

***

One year later

You take a deep breath as you knock on the door to Christian’s office, Max by your side. It’s time to break some more big news to your team principal.

“Come in!” Christian calls.

You enter to find him sitting at his desk surrounded by the usual organized chaos of strategy plans and data analysis.

He looks up, blinking in surprise. “Y/N, Max, what brings you by?”

You glance at Max, who gives you an encouraging nod and tentative smile. Turning back to Christian, you clasp your hands together nervously.

“Hey Christian. So, remember last year in Vegas when we promised no more reckless surprises?”

Christian’s eyes narrow warily. “Yeeesss ...” he draws out.

You look at Max again who blurts out, “Well we have another surprise coming your way. You’re going to be a grandpa!”

Christian’s jaw drops. His gaze darts down to your still flat midsection then back up to your nodding, beaming faces.

“You ... you’re ...” Christian stammers, looking like all the blood has drained from his face.

You take pity and confirm it for him. “Pregnant, yes. Surprise!” You add with an awkward chuckle.

For a few long moments Christian just sits there, mouth opening and closing wordlessly like a fish. Then, his eyes roll back and he topples forward, head thunking down on his desk.

You and Max rush forward. “Uh no, I think we broke him again,” Max winces, gently shaking Christian’s shoulder.

After a few tense seconds, Christian stirs with a groan. “Oww, my head ...”

“You passed out when we told you about the baby,” you explain sheepishly.

Christian blinks blearily up at you both hovering over him anxiously. “The baby ... so it’s really true then?”

You place a hand on your stomach. “Yep! There’s going to be a little Verstappen running around in around seven and a half months.”

Despite his obvious shock, Christian manages a weak smile. “Well how about that ... we’re expanding the Red Bull family.”

Max claps him on the back. “I know it seems a bit crazy but we’re thrilled.” He squeezes your hand and smiles softly.

Christian lets out a long breath, straightening his rumpled shirt. “Well, I appreciate you both coming to me first this time. We’ll need to strategize how to share the happy news.”

You can’t resist teasing him gently. “Don’t worry, we’ll do our best to avoid making you faint again in the future.”

Christian levels a stern finger at you both. “See that you do. My heart can only take so much.” But his mock glare melts into a warm smile.

You exchange a grin with Max.

It turns out that sometimes what happens in Vegas doesn’t stay in Vegas … but neither of you is going to complain about that.

[keeksandgigz]

modern!bandmates eddie and reader who are kind of secretly hooking up on the side—

You’re lying in his bed in a post- coital bliss. The heady smoke of American Spirits clouding up the room as you pass the quickly dying ember back and forth between still trembling fingers.

You had a tradition of sneaking around before band rehearsals, it was easier to let off steam that way.

Passing him the cigarette and grabbing his discarded shirt— a gray Slayer shirt with the collar a bit loose, it smells a bit like your perfume— you head to the bathroom.

He stands up off the bed to grab his guitar, just to go over the arrangements for a new song you’d decided to do. Coming back, you do the same, reaching into your bag to grab loose sheets of words jumbled up together. You hum the melodies and try out new runs.

“I like that one” he speaks for the first time.

You turn your head towards him.

“The one you just did, right before the chorus? It sounds really good. I don’t know how you do it that fast” he smiles, putting out the cigarette on an ashtray sitting on his nightstand.

“I mean it’s like you being a genius with that fretboard. You zoom around that thing like it’s nobody’s business” you chuckle “I could never be able to do that.”

“Yeah you could” he says sincerely. He puts the guitar down and reaches for another instrument on his rack “Here, I’ll teach you the bass. It’s a bit easier”

You look at him, going around the bed to sit next to you “But we have rehearsals in an hour” you protest.

“You’ve said you wanted to learn how to play a couple times, didn’t you? And I have my stuff down, don’t worry” he rolls his eyes. You sit up, criss- crossing your legs, intrigue in your face. He likes the way your lips curl when you’re interested in something.

“Sit on the edge of the bed” he commands, you comply, as he drops the bass on your legs. You feel the weight of the instrument on you. The smooth wood, the jagged fretboard, the heavy metal strings.

You look at yourself in the mirror across his bed. “Do I look cool now?” you smile.

“You always look cool” he says, making his way behind you.

“But I’m not really— like— part of your world, y’know? You could be in a death metal band if you wanted, instead you’re stuck here with me doing what? dad rock? the Arctic Monkeys?” you chuckle.

“When you look the part— the black makeup on your eyes and dressed in all black you look super cool” He rubs your left arm “almost like you’ve always been part of my world.” He kisses your shoulder.

“And I don’t mind playing for your band. I get to spend more time with you, don’t I?” he smiles, and a slight tinge forms on your cheeks. You wonder if he can see it.

He positions himself so you’re sat between his legs, as his arms make their way down yours, puppeteering your fingers across the bass, its discordant rumble echoing in your bones.

After a couple hours you’d managed to play the main riff of Blitzkrieg Bop by yourself.

“See? You’re a natural” he smiles “now we can jam together instead of fucking” a boyish laugh escapes his mouth. You just smack him across the arm.

“In your dreams”

—

where has the yearning brought me omfg i haven’t written in so long

[nomercymaster11]

In his presence

@SuuNemuii

A/N: Law x you, afab!reader, R-18! NSFW PART ONE

The alarm you set last night jolted you awake. As you turned over, your heart sank a little—Law wasn't there, and the loneliness crept in. But then, your eyes caught sight of something that made you smile: his long sword, Kikoku, resting beside his desk. Relief washed over you; he was still in the submarine, and the night you spent together wasn’t just a dream.

You stretched, feeling the comfort of having slept so deeply. Law must have left quietly to let you rest. After a moment, you got up and changed into your suit, ready to tackle another day. Grabbing your cleaning supplies, you headed to the narrow hallway you were assigned to tidy.

Before starting, you decided to check the control room to see if Law was there. The metal door was slightly ajar, and you peeked inside. There he was, sitting on a chair with his arms crossed and one leg draped over the other, deep in discussion with the crew. You watched him for a few moments, taking in the sight of his focused expression.

He seemed so engrossed in the conversation that you figured he hadn’t noticed you. With a small sigh, you looked down and turned to leave. Little did you know, as you walked away, Law had indeed spotted you out of the corner of his eye, his gaze briefly following you with a hint of recognition.

As you reached the area where you were supposed to start cleaning, your mind was a storm of thoughts and emotions. You couldn't help but reflect on your relationship with Law. With all the missions he undertook alone, a sense of unease had taken root in your heart. You didn't want to dwell on it, but you were beginning to feel neglected. Questions about your place in his life swirled around your mind.

Law was a pirate captain with immense responsibilities and a whole crew to manage. On top of that, he was always busy. There was no doubt he loved you, yet you still found yourself questioning everything. A part of you longed to be his top priority, just like any woman would wish for. But you couldn't even bring yourself to talk to him about it, afraid he'd see you as inconsiderate. The last thing you wanted was to argue over something that seemed trivial in the grand scheme of things. Anxiety crept in, and you frowned, feeling overwhelmed.

Suddenly, a tap on your shoulder snapped you back to reality. You turned to find Law standing there, concern etched on his face. Your eyes misted over, betraying your inner turmoil.

"Is something the matter? You seemed deep in thought," Law asked, his lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes squinting slightly as he tried to read your expression.

You looked away, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze.

"I was... uh...," you stammered, struggling to find the right words. "I was thinking about what to do next after this," you added, trying to sound convincing.

Law wasn't fooled. He slipped his right hand into his pocket while his left hand gently cupped your face, turning it so you had to look at him. His touch was tender as he caressed your jaw.

"I'll wait for you in the bathroom," he murmured, his thumb brushing softly over your lips.

A flutter of nerves stirred in your stomach at his invitation, and you nodded, feeling a mix of apprehension and relief.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

You walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click. You hung your towel on the rack and placed your clean suit on the counter, ready for later. Law was already in the tub, lounging with his arms resting on the edges, his body slightly slouched. His eyes were closed, and his back was pressed against the cold metal wall. As a devil fruit user, he had to be careful not to get fully submerged in the water; it could drown him.

You approached the tub, the water cloudy and scented with the vanilla and butter bath bomb you'd bought. His eyes opened slowly as you drew nearer, and he straightened up, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Finally decided to join me…" he said, his voice dripping with confidence. "Thought you were gonna leave me hanging."

"Sorry, couldn't just leave my work unfinished," you replied, your eyes meeting his. His gaze was intense, filled with a raw desire that made your heart race.

"Strip for me," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. You began to unbutton your suit, slowly pulling down the zipper, your eyes locked onto his the entire time. Left in your black shirt and lace undergarments, you pulled the shirt over your head, feeling his gaze heat your skin.

Law's smirk widened. "Come here." You stepped closer, and his right hand slid to your waistband, gently easing off your last piece of clothing. Once you were completely bare, you stepped into the tub and sat in front of him, leaning back against his chiseled, tattooed chest.

"That's more like it," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, making you feel both vulnerable and protected in his embrace. The scent of vanilla and butter enveloped you both, mixing with the heat of the water and the intensity of the moment.

Law gently moved your hair to the side and kissed the back of your left ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“Mmm... you taste so good,” he whispered, his lips trailing along your delicate, sensitive skin. His right hand moved to your breast, caressing it tenderly, teasing your nipple until it was hard and erect. His other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. You could feel his arousal pressing against your back.

“How does this feel?” Law asked, his voice a seductive murmur as he continued to grope your breast. You moaned in response, lost in the sensations. Any lingering worries melted away as you decided to save serious talk for later.

Law's kisses trailed sensually down your neck, his left hand sliding down to your stomach. He caressed your folded legs, moving from your upper thigh to your knees and back up until his hand brushed your inner thigh, dangerously close to your center. He teasingly touched your folds with his thumb but quickly pulled back, making you ache for more. Frustrated, you turned your head to look up at him, eyes pleading.

“Babe, I’m just getting started,” Law said with a mischievous grin, his eyes twinkling with promise.

Without wasting any time, Law’s long finger found its way to your sensitive core, his middle finger circling it expertly. You leaned your head back against his shoulder, your breath hitching as he stroked you back and forth. This was what you had been craving for so long.

“You’re so responsive,” he murmured in your ear, nibbling lightly on your earlobe.

“Tell me,” he continued, his voice deep and commanding, “did you touch yourself while I was away?”

“Well... almost. Just thinking about you makes me want to,” you admitted, lifting your left hand to cup his face and trace his lips with your fingertips. He opened his mouth, and you slid a finger inside. He sucked and licked it, his eyes locked onto yours.

Suddenly, his fingers moved faster against your sensitive core, drawing a sensual moan from your lips. He increased the pressure and speed, while his other hand continued to tease your breasts, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your eyes hooded, and you bit your lip, overwhelmed by his expert touch.

“Oh, fuck yes!” you moaned, as Law suddenly slid his middle finger into your needy pussy, quickly followed by his ring finger. You grabbed onto his thighs as the arousal built up again, your body craving more.

“Kiss me, Law,” you murmured, your voice almost a plea. He stopped caressing your breast and used his right hand to turn your face toward him. Your kiss deepened, his tongue darting out to explore the depths of your mouth, dancing with yours. Both of your tongues twirled and swirled together, sending waves of sensation through both of you. You moved your hips in sync with the thrust of his fingers, placing a hand above his to guide him as he pleasured you. Law felt your muscles tense as you neared climax. With a final thrust of his fingers, you shuddered and screamed again, your body convulsing in pleasure.

“That was... fucking good,” you said, your breath coming in labored gasps.

“We’re not done yet,” Law replied, his voice low and commanding.

With a show of strength, he pushed himself up, and you followed, stepping out of the tub before him. “Do you need help?” you asked, holding out a hand as you noticed him struggling slightly. Law frowned.

“You mocking me now?” he smirked. “I’m just a bit weakened.”

As he rose from the tub, your eyes couldn't help but be drawn to his erect member, anticipation swirling in the air between you.

You looked at him, starting from his disheveled black hair dripping with water, down to his nose and lips, across his hard, toned chest and abdomen, tracing his V-line down to his erect member. He looked ten times hotter, sexier. As you moved your hand to touch his shaft, he immediately grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t do anything until I say so,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. Law liked to be in control.

“But I want to make you feel good too,” you pleaded, your eyes full of desire.

“You already have,” he replied, closing the gap between you. Effortlessly, he lifted you as if you weighed nothing.

“Hold on to me,” he ordered in a low, sultry voice. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he pushed you against the flat, tiled wall of the bathroom. He hoisted you up to his eye level, leaning forward until his lips brushed gently against yours before increasing the pressure. Law tilted his head, moaning into your feverish kiss, deepening it further. You ran your hand through his hair, feeling the intensity of the moment.

Breaking away from the kiss, Law trailed kisses along your jaw with such desire that it elicited another moan from you. His lips moved down to your neck, sending shivers through your still-trembling body. The heat radiating from both of you was almost overwhelming. Your legs spread apart instinctively, wrapping around his waist, ready for whatever came next.

Law pressed his erection against you, moving his hips slowly back and forth, building your arousal as his shaft rubbed against your folds. He teased you like this for a few moments, the friction driving you wild.

“God, Law! Please!” you begged; your voice filled with primal desire. With his free hand, he guided his member to your aching sex.

“Keep your eyes open and on mine,” Law commanded as he entered you slowly, savoring every inch. You still flinched at his girth every time he entered you, always in awe that you could take him fully. You moaned as he filled you completely. He hooked his arms behind your knees, spreading your thighs further to give you both a better angle and to help you feel at ease. He kissed you deeply and held that position, your bodies joined but still, driving you crazy with anticipation.

Law's demeanor suddenly shifted to a serious one. He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered,

"Don't ever doubt my love for you, (y/n)-ya."

The emotions you'd been holding back spilled over, tears streaming down your face. He gazed at you for a moment, his eyes full of intensity. "I'm sorry," you whimpered, your voice barely audible.

"Shhh... don't," Law murmured, silencing you with gentle, feathery kisses on your cheeks, wiping away your tears. "You're important to me," he said, his words becoming your lifeline. "I need you more than anything," he added, his voice brimming with love and sincerity. Your body ached for him to start thrusting, but he didn’t. You squeezed yourself around him, desperate for him to move, your breath fast and your heart pounding.

Then, he began to thrust, agonizingly slow and deep, almost pulling all the way out before thrusting hard back inside. Each thrust was intimate and claiming, making you feel every inch of him. He kept this rhythm, his eyes never left yours, the connection between you both deepening with every moment. The passion between you was intense, as if your love for him had been renewed. The feeling was liberating, and in that moment, the two of you were truly one.

Your eyes momentarily slid to the side, catching your reflection in the mirror opposite you. You saw his movements, his back muscles flexing, his buttocks moving and tensing with each thrust.

The sight of him, the feel of him inside you, the intensity of his gaze—it was overwhelming.

Law let your feet touch the floor. Your legs were weak and trembling. He guided you toward the sink, turning you around to face the mirror. His hand slid around your hip and dipped between your legs, his touch making you cry out as the pressure on your sensitive core intensified. You tried to ease his hand off by gripping his wrist, but you quickly gave up, overwhelmed by the sensation. Just as you were about to cum, he removed his hand, leaving you aching and frustrated. You bent over, your ass up in front of him, desperate for him to fuck you again.

Both of his hands gripped your hips, and you felt the blunt head of his cock at your entrance. He penetrated you slowly at first, then suddenly pushed in with a breath-taking plunge that made your body instinctively move forward to soften the impact.

Law looked at the two of you in the mirror, feeling a surge of desire. His pace quickened, and your body responded, moving in rhythm with his. The sound of your bodies slapping together echoed inside the bathroom. You felt your climax building again, and you knew he could too, if he kept up this fast rhythm. Law's thrusts became more deliberate, each one driving you closer to the edge, each one claiming you as his.

Your eyes met in the mirror, and you gripped the sides of the sink.

“Oh! Har…der!” you hissed, your voice filled with need.

“I’ll give you what you want, babe,” Law growled. He pulled you back down and thrust even deeper and harder. He groaned, squeezing your waist, and cupping your bouncing breasts, fucking you relentlessly.

He locked an arm under your breasts, hauling you backward, your body jerking with each sharp thrust. Your hand reached down to your sensitive clit, circling it desperately as you chased that ultimate pleasure.

“That's it! that’s my fucking babe,” Law grunted with every thrust. The intensity of his movements drove you wild, both of you teetering on the brink of an explosive climax.

“Babe, I’m about to cum,” you told him, your voice breathless.

“Don’t hold back,” Law whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

“Let go, baby. Let me hear you scream.” You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip. Law picked up the speed, feeling your body tighten around his as you approached climax.

“YES!” you screamed, and as the orgasm exploded within you, Law continued to plunge his cock deep inside, moaning with relief as he emptied himself into you.

As you both came down from your high, Law leaned over and kissed the back of your neck, leaving tiny hickeys along the way. He held you tightly, your bodies still joined, both of you trying to catch your breath. Slowly, Law pulled out, and his cum dripped from your contracting pussy, running down your legs.

The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing. Law wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. "You’re incredible," he murmured, his lips brushing your ear.

You smiled, still feeling the aftershocks of your shared passion. "So are you," you whispered back, turning your head to steal another kiss.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

After some time, Law opened the shower, and you joined him. He scrubbed your back with a small towel. He bent down to clean your legs, sticky and sweaty with both of your cum. His tender aftercare made your heart melt. When he was done, you let him sit on a small wooden stool so you could scrub his back. Your fingers traced his battle scars, and you sighed, the worries already etched on your face.

Law stood up and turned to face you, his concern evident. He gently pulled you into an embrace.

“Let’s talk later,” he said, his voice filled with care. He could see right through you. You nodded in response.

After taking a final rinse, Law dried his hair with a towel and then draped it around his neck. He pulled up his boxers, his pants and put on his shoes. Grabbing the doorknob, he gave you one last glance.

“I love you,” he mouthed silently. You read his lips, smiled gently, and blew him a kiss.

^^^ a few minutes later ^^^

As you stepped out of the bathroom, you bumped into the trio.

"Hi!" you called out, your hands full with a bucket of cleaning supplies. Bepo, with his keen nose, sniffed the air around you.

"You smell nice!" Bepo said, taking a long inhale. "We just saw the captain a few minutes ago," he added. "And he smelled just like you." Bepo sniffed again, innocently curious. Penguin and Shachi exchanged a knowing grin as they noticed your cheeks flush red. Bepo, being an innocent Polar Bear mink, cocked his head in confusion, not understanding why the other two were smiling.

Before Penguin and Shachi could tease you, you set down the bucket and pushed them away.

"G-go away!" you stammered; your voice filled with embarrassment. The two bursts into laughter.

"Why?" Penguin asked, his voice tinged with amusement.

"We didn't even say anything," Shachi added, grinning.

"I know exactly what you guys are thinking just by looking at your faces!" you replied, trying to hide your embarrassment.

"You don’t have to feel embarrassed around us, you know?" Penguin said, still chuckling.

"Even so!" you insisted, giving them another light push.

"Whatever you say, Ms. Shy Girl," Penguin teased, his laughter echoing down the hallway.

Feeling flustered, you couldn't help but laugh along with them despite your embarrassment.

"Alright, alright, enough teasing," you said, trying to regain your composure.

Penguin and Shachi finally stopped laughing, though their grins remained. "We're just happy for you," Penguin said with a more sincere tone. "It's good to see you and the captain so close."

"Yeah," Shachi added. "You two make a great team."

Bepo nodded enthusiastically. "And you both smell really nice!" he repeated, still not understanding but wanting to be supportive.

You smiled, touched by their words despite the teasing. "Thanks, guys. That means a lot."

With the cleaning supplies still in your hands, you decided it was time to get back to your duties. "Alright, I’ve got to finish up here. See you later!"

As you walked away, you felt a warmth spread through you, not just from the recent moments with Law but also from the camaraderie of your crew. It was moments like these that reminded you how much this team meant to you.

^^^^^^^^

Later, as you finished cleaning and headed to your quarters, you found Law waiting for you. His expression softened as he saw you.

“Everything okay?” he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

“Yeah, just had a little run-in with the trio,” you said with a smile. “They’re happy for us.”

Law nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Good to know.” He pulled you into an embrace, and you felt the comfort and strength of his presence.

"Spend the night with me," Law whispered in your ear, his voice low and inviting as he embraced you. Without waiting for your reply, he broke the embrace and reached for your hand, gently pulling you towards his cabin.

The evening settled into a peaceful quiet as you and Law shared a moment together. You lay next to him, your left-hand tracing gentle patterns on his chest, while his left arm wrapped securely around your shoulders.

In the quiet of his cabin, the two of you began to talk. You discussed the things that needed to be addressed, your voices low and sincere. There was a new level of openness and honesty between you, a deepening of the bond that had been growing for so long. You talked about your worries, your hopes, and your dreams, finding comfort in each other's words.

The warmth of Law's embrace and the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat lulled you into a state of contentment. You knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you were not alone. You had Law, your crew, and the unbreakable bonds that held you all together. And with that comforting knowledge, you slipped into a restful sleep, wrapped in the warmth of love and friendship.

[bouncybongfairy]

Pathetic

Dabi x Fem Reader Smut

Summary: Dabi finds the fact that he doesn't even have to use his words to get your forgiveness after an argument quite piteous.

Word Count: 1.0k+

Ref Account: @kaionyx

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

You jumped hearing the door slam; judging by how the apartment shook you knew it was Dabi. Almost dropping the book you were reading into the soapy water. Spilling your wine glass you’d poured vodka into on the ground. Now causing you to scramble about the bathroom. Looking for your clothes as soap suds and water trailed down your skin. The door swung open and you almost slipped on the tile floor. Catching yourself on the towel rack. You were immediately taken back, he looked run ragged. Like he was jumped or something, walking over to the sink and hovering. Letting a mixture of blood and saliva drip onto the porcelain. Using the water to rinse his mouth before turning his attention back to you.

“Get the fuck out!” you screamed. 

The two of you had gotten into a blowout argument two weeks ago and haven’t spoken since. Involuntary tears burned your eyes the more you stared. He let his hair go white and it was more messy than usual; like he’d just woken up or something. A mix of the alcohol spilled onto the floor and his presence made a scowl paint over your face. He stepped over the broken glass, it crunched loudly underneath his boots. You tried your hardest to maintain your physical dominance, not leaning back when he approached. Keeping your arms folded across your chest, a little too tipsy to bother covering up. He tilted his head arrogantly to the side as he stared down at you. He noticed your breathing quicken, grabbing your arms and gently pulling them down to your sides. Purposely letting his thumbs rub down the sides of your torso. You hold your breath and tighten your core, trying to prove that it wasn’t affecting you. However your dilated pupils and the deep red flush across your cheeks suggested otherwise. 

He wiped the tears off your face, now letting his body fully press against yours. He was lanky which only added to his intimidation while hovering over you. Breathing heavy against your face, looking down on you with wild eyes. Like he couldn’t wait to get his hands on you. Although still angry and bitter from the argument; it was comforting to have him so close. Being able to smell him and feel his embrace against your skin. Taking in all the little details about him as this would be the last encounter. You brought your arms up and wrapped them around his neck. He moved his hands off your face and started to unbuckle his belt. The sound of metal clanking together made your knees shake a little. Letting his pants and boxers fall to the wet floor. He picked your legs up and pressed your back against the drywall. The back of your knees were being supported by his elbows. He lined himself up and slowly started pushing himself inside you. 

He let his forehead drop against your shoulder. For the past two weeks all he could think about was being engulfed in your heat. Feeling how your moaning matched up with the tightening of your walls around him was intoxicating to him. Groans flooding out of his mouth while trying to catch his breath without stopping. Slowly pulling fully out, biting down on your shoulder as the cold air hits his length. Fucking back into you letting his body weight nearly crush you. He was trying his hardest to be fully buried inside you. He couldn’t figure out what made you different in the way he couldn’t get enough of you. No matter how frustrated or fed up he got with the relationship he always came back. Like a moth to flame or Rue Bennet to a xanny. Pounding himself into you at a merciless rate while you whimpered and moaned into his ear. Your juices were leaking down his thighs which only added to how desperate his thrusts were becoming. Running your fingers through his hair, feeling how hot and sweaty he was. You used his hair to tilt his head to the side, allowing you to suck hickies onto his skin. Screaming into his salty skin, biting down as his tip hit your cervix. 

Without pulling out, he walks the two of you over to the bed. Letting his body fall on top of yours and continuously pounded into you. Grabbing two fist fulls of your hair and pinning your head to the mattress. The only thing he liked more than fucking you was watching your face while he did. Eyes rolling back with your mouth wide open, rendered completely cockdrunk and braindead. Breasts bouncing every time his length disappeared inside you. He could tell you were getting close, your legs were shaking; feeling your walls quiver and pulsate around him. He planned on holding out for longer but couldn’t take it anymore. Letting go of your hair and wrapping his arms around your neck. Keeping his cock deep inside you while pumping your belly full of cum. 

Moving himself in and out just enough for his load to start leaking out of you. He pulled out of you and moved his face down to your core and immediately started attacking your clit with his tongue. Holding your legs up as he buried his face between your lips, tasting himself while eating you out. You nearly ripped his hair out as you came; bucking and jerking your hips up. Ears ringing and holding your breath while waves of pleasure wash over your body. He tried continuing to flick and suck but you were too overstimulated. You closed your legs and took a few moments to catch your breath. He got up and took his tee-shirt off. Walking to the bathroom sink and wetting it with warm water. He came back to the bed and spread your legs, wiping and cleaning you down. You grabbed his arm and used the little energy left to cuddle next to him. He chuckled and pulled you into his arms, pressing kisses on the top of your head before both of you passed out.

[jjkeremika]

AoT men favorite places with you

description: AoT men’s favorite place to be intimate with you

pairing: Eren, Jean, Connie, Reiner, Porco, Levi, Erwin, Armin, Zeke, Bertolt // x reader

nsfwww

Eren

• prefers public places, not well hidden, like fingering you under the table or having you suck him off behind the racks at restaurants and shops

• risky, likes the thrill of potentially being caught, swears the adrenaline makes you look and sound sexier

• loves sucking on your neck and leaving hickeys, bites your shoulders enough to leave a visible mark for days

• shushes you while he strokes your hair, tells you that you need to be more quiet when you swallow him whole, that you need to bite your lip when he rocks his hips

Jean

• at home, in the kitchen, while prepping for dinner or while baking desserts

• likes lifting you onto the countertop, kissing and fondling you until his preset timers are going off

• always takes his shirt off before putting the apron on, just in case he spills something on it anyway

• smacks you with a spatula or wooden spoon when you walk by, threatens to do it again when you squeal

• watches you lick the batter off your finger with dilated pupils and starts palming his erection through the apron, staring at your lips the whole time

Connie

• well if it wasn’t the arcade, it wasn’t anywhere but home

• hes winning prizes and tickets at every game, smiling and handing you the gifts to keep, smacking your ass and kissing your cheek intermittently

• sometimes asks you to blow on his hands before ski-ball or air-hockey for good luck

• reminds you of that when he asks you to blow on his cock later, behind the pac-man operator, when he’s unzipping his jeans and you’re dropping to your knees

• sometimes will push up against you from behind, pushing your hips into the game as you play, as he teaches you

Reiner

• rents cabins so you two can be conpletely alone because he loves to hear you scream, and doesn’t want a soul to hear or see you (only him)

• likes you on your hands and knees, his hand roughly pulling your hair

• situates you so both of you are facing the wide window, overlooking the natural scenery as his hips slap against yours

• smirks at you in the reflection in the window, blows kisses when you both make eye contact in it

Porco

• could always find him hanging out under the bleachers, and he greets you with open arms and a big kiss each time

• wraps his jacket around you when he takes your shirt off; puts your shirt over his backpack so it doesn’t touch the ground

• holds you so close and so tight, protects your head with his hand if you two get too close to the metal benches

• loves the rattle of the bleachers when you grab onto the metal bars or benches as he fucks into you from behind

Levi

• hates doing it in bathrooms and kitchens

• prefers taking you to expensive hotels with clean sheets and fluffy towels, usually rents a room with two large beds so you can rest and relax on spotless sheets

• cleaning up is his favorite part, lapping up your streams of fluid from your thighs like a parched dog

• loves shoving his cock down your throat when he’s about to orgasm, loves feeling and watching you swallow his cum, enjoying everything more thoroughly with the knowledge that he doesn’t have to dirty a towel

Erwin

• back of the car, like you’re both hormone-crazed teenagers who can’t keep their hands off each other

• has a huge car, so sprawling you out into any position isn’t an obstacle

• always wraps his tie around his wrist, dangling it slightly, and sometimes sharply slaps it against your ass

• plays music through the speakers every time, always drives to the ocean or the lake

• likes the visual of you beneath him, his cock pushed between your breasts

Armin

• likes to be in private, at home BUT the back room at the public library comes quite close

• works there part time, so acquiring the room was easy, and there was something about seeing you amongst unbound books that evoked something inexplicable within him

• loves when you bend over him like an open book, especially when you’re asking him to lick you out while you suck him off

• always reminds you to be quiet when he’s louder than you are

Zeke

• likes to take you to plays and musicals and theaters and operas, “to enjoy the sounds and symphonies of art,” he’d say

• his hand is crawling up your thigh before intermission, tracing the tights pattern up your skirt

• hides the playwright over your lap so those in neighboring seats can’t gawk (but he also kind of likes it when they do)

• rushes you to the bathroom during intermission, hiking up your skirt and ripping a hole in the crotch of your tights

Bertolt

• plays basketball, so meeting him in the locker room after practice is the routine

• explores different positions on the benches and in the showers with you, bending you over it or holding you up

• loves holding your butt cheeks like two globes, moaning every time he compares his hand and dick sizes to the size of your ass

• blushes when he sees you at his games because he knows what will happen later in the locker room, what you’ve both practiced for

[lokiswifeduh]

Red agony

Pairings- Boyfriend!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary- Your time of the month has come back around, leaving you in agony. Bucky comes home from a mission, takes care of you, and comforts you.

Warnings- period talk, hurt/comfort, worried Bucky, talk of menstrual cycle, talk of tampons, I think that's it!

WC- 1.1k

masterlist

That time of the month was rearing its ugly head once again.

You held your stomach in pain as your heating pad soothed a small amount of the aching in your back.

Tears were crusted on your cheeks as your face was flushed. All of the lights in the bedroom were off, the only illumination being an open sign from the Chinese place across the street.

Bucky turned the keys in the door, swinging it open and toeing his shoes off under the coat rack. "Doll?"

He eyed the room, noticing the lack of any lamps or lights on. Tossing his bag on the ground, he made his way down the hall.

His socked feet making a soft noise of footsteps, making you finally snap out of the trance you had been in.

"Bucky?" You mumbled, looking back at the doorway behind you, seeing your boyfriend's silhouette.

"Hey, sweetheart," Bucky smiled, immediately noticing your hunched-over position, heating pad, and pain pills on the nightstand.

You pushed yourself into a sitting position, groaning as your back bent uncomfortably, "How was the mission, honey?"

Bucky saw you trying to get up and pushed you back down onto the bed, pulling you into his chest. You gripped onto his shirt, slinking your leg in between his.

"It was good, doll. No injuries. Got the intel we needed." He nodded, "Everything went well." You smiled into his chest, "Good, that's good."

"What about you, honey?" Bucky rubbed your back with his flesh arm, putting pressure on the aching part of your back.

"It was alright, I guess." You shrugged, making Bucky tilt your head up with his metal hand on your chin. "How was it really?"

Suddenly the dam broke. Tears streamed down your face as you buried your face into his neck, "It was horrible, Buck."

He shushed you, rubbing your back and encircling you in his arms. "I'm so sorry, honey. I would've come home sooner if I could."

You shook your head, inhaling his vanilla and musk scent. "You had a job to do, Buck. That doesn't stop just because I started my period and had a bad day." Bucky placed his metal hand on your cheek again, rubbing under your eyes which felt amazing on your flushed, hot skin.

"How about I run you a hot bath and make you some food, huh?" You looked up at him, your eyes only producing more tears as you nodded. "Yes, please."

"Okay, honey." He helped you stand and walk to the bathroom, sitting you down on the toilet seat as he ran the bath.

He poured epson salt in the bottom of the tub, checking the water temp, and making sure it wasn't too hot before plugging the bottom of the drain.

Bucky bent over, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head, moving your hair out of your face before helping you undress and place your dirty clothes in the hamper.

You watched him, admiring how much he cared about you, and how tenderly he took care of you. He poured your favorite bubbles in the bath, making sure to test the water before helping you step in and settle.

You felt immediate relief in your back from the warmth, sighing and closing your eyes.

"I'll put some pajamas on the bed for you, doll." You smiled softly, pulling him down to place a kiss on his lips. "Thank you, Buck. I love you." "I love you, yell if you need me, sweetheart."

Closing the bathroom door, he turned on the bedroom light, immediately noticing the large red stain on your side of the covers. He sighed, wishing he didn't have to go on that mission and could've been here with you, taking care of you instead.

He gathered the sheets and covers, placing them in the wash before putting clean black sheets on the bed.

Moving to the kitchen, he started to make your favorite comfort food. Grilled cheese with soup and hot chocolate.

A while passed, the water had become room temperature and the bubbles had soaked in with the water; creating a shimmery film on the top of the water.

"Food is ready, doll." You heard Bucky as he popped his head inside the door, making you pull yourself from the bath. You changed your tampon, drying yourself off, and wrapping a towel around your body.

Your hair was still wet as it dripped onto your shoulders and onto the floor. You saw the clothes Bucky had put out. Excited, as it was a pair of his sweatpants and his red henley.

You pulled on the sweats, feeling the fleece lining against your skin. You had to fold the lining of his pants twice, just so the bottoms wouldn't swallow your ankles.

Slipping the red henley over your head, foregoing a bra, you opened the bedroom door and were immediately hit with the scent of your favorite food.

"Thank you, Buck." You smiled, wrapping your arms around him from behind, your face pressed tightly to the center of his back.

"Of course, doll." He placed his metal hand over yours, swaying you both back and forth as he dished the soup into a bowl, and placed the grilled cheese on a plate.

You unwrapped yourself from him, attempting to take the plate, but he moved it away before you could, gesturing to the couch. "Nu-uh. Go relax, I'll bring it to you." Wrapping your hand around the back of his neck, you pulled his lips down to yours, feeling him squeeze your waist. "You're too good to me, Buck." He shook his head, "I think it's the other way around, honey." You laughed, walking over to the couch, placing a dark blue blanket over your legs.

"Eat up." Bucky put a pillow on your lap, sitting down the food.

He turned on the tv, playing your favorite show as you slowly ate for the first time that day.

Once you had finished, Bucky moved the plate and bowl to the coffee table, pulling you into his arms, making sure you could still see the tv.

Your head was in his lap as you looked up at him, ignoring your show. He felt eyes on him, looking down at you. "Everything okay, doll?" A wide smile graced your lips as you nodded. "I just love you so much, James." You kissed the side of his hand, "Thank you for taking care of me." Bucky smiled back, his hand on your cheek, softly rubbing circles. "I love you, honey. More than anything."

______________

masterlist

bucky masterlist

[ssspideysense]

˚⋆｡˚ ❀ little white stick

summary: peter finds something in your trash can.

pairing: tasm!peter parker x f!reader

tags: fluff, established relationship, unplanned pregnancy

wc: 1.8k

He’d never been more intimidated by a piece of plastic.

Peter flipped the white stick in his hand over, and over, and over again. His head was swimming, even after he ripped his mask off to get a better look. A sense of desperation fluttered in his chest. He held the end of the stick and shook it, but this was no magic 8-ball— the message in the window stayed the same, staring back at him.

Pregnant.

He should’ve minded his own business. Probably should’ve pissed behind a dumpster somewhere instead of slipping through your window for his little pit stop, too. And he really should’ve pulled his head out of his ass long enough to realize those were your keys jangling at the front door.

Peter flinched in the abrasive bathroom light once he heard you shut the door behind you. The test leapt from his gloved hands and clattered on the tile, now essentially a live stick of dynamite, spitting sparks that lit a fire under his feet.

He heard you pause in the breezeway, your tired and shuffling footsteps falling silent like he tried to be. He bent to scoop up the stick quickly, shoving it back into the little trash can where he found it.

Peter jumped upright again and smacked his head on the underside of the sink with a loud THUNK.

He stumbled back— his foot tipped the can over — he grabbed the towel bar for balance but ripped it right out of the wall instead.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, holding the metal bar in one hand while he scrambled for the pregnancy test kicked beside the toilet.

“Hello? I—I have a gun,” you called out cautiously from down the hall after his chaotic symphony of crashes. You’d always been a terrible liar, really, but he couldn’t blame you for trying.

Groaning, Peter held the loose fixture in one hand, and the test in the other.

He was panicking. But he couldn’t leave you to panic, thinking there was some intruder creeping around your apartment. Swiftly, he shoved the stick underneath his mask on the bathroom counter and yanked the door open.

“Baby, it’s me—“ he paused, looking at you standing there, poised to strike with your elementary spelling bee trophy gripped like a bat in both hands, “—nice form, by the way. Look at those legs.”

And you deflated upon seeing him, letting your arms fall to your sides. “Christ, Pete. A warning would’ve been nice.”

“Were you about to hit me with that?”

“Is that my towel rack?”

You stared at each other for a moment before chuckling quietly in tandem. Both of your hearts raced to their own erratic rhythms in the dark hallway— but for completely different reasons. Peter examined the metal bar in his hand before laying it next to the sink. “I can fix it, I promise.”

“I’m starting to think you’re more trouble than you’re worth, Parker,” you mused with a heavy sigh.

Peter waited until you turned on your heel before snatching up his mask and the little bomb underneath it. He trailed behind you with a forced air of nonchalance. “Oh, c’mon. I’m a real handy guy to have around. I fix towel racks, open jars, uh… water your plants,” he said, eyeing the droopy flowers on your kitchen windowsill. “Alright, there are better examples, but I whacked my head pretty hard in there, so you’ll just have to use your imagination for now.”

You offered a little huff of a laugh over your shoulder and slipped your shoes off by the front door. “Doing what?”

“Huh?”

The doe-eyed bewilderment on his face made you smile once your gaze met his. “In the bathroom. How’d you whack your head?” You asked.

His grip tightened on his mask. That nervous, almost boyish grin of his paired so well with his airy chuckle. “Uh, y’know. I saw a… bug. On the floor. Pretty gnarly stuff,” he cleared his throat and leaned himself against the kitchen archway with arms crossed over his chest.

You shot him an amused grin as you breezed past him, flicking on the lights. He’d looked a bit ruffled in the dark. Now, in the warm kitchen glow, you could see the nerves ticking away behind his eyes.

“A bug, hm?” You peered at him from the fridge. “Well, thank you, baby.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

“Must’ve scared you pretty bad.”

He shrugged his shoulders, “well, y’know, not that bad. I mean, yeah, I was pretty startled at first. Pretty, uh… surprised, since I know we’re— you’re really… careful about stuff like that,” he cleared his throat again.

You pulled a water bottle from the fridge and watched him, pinning him to that spot against the wall with just an arch of your brow. “Careful?”

Peter pretended to be busy reading your whiteboard calendar stuck to the wall. “Yeah. I mean, you’re really responsible, and you take care of yourself and your things. But, y’know, these things happen sometimes. It’s not the end of the world. Maybe it could be a good thing, actually.”

Slowly, you cracked open the bottle and took a long sip. Peter switched his focus to a little photo of the both of you on the fridge door. You were kissing his cheek, he was beaming at the camera — he remembered that day, a handful of months ago. He’d taken you to an art museum and said some corny line about how you were the most breathtaking piece in every room. It didn’t matter how cliché it was when you smiled so brightly in response.

Maybe it could be a good thing…

“So… did you kill it?”

“What?”

The water bottle crinkled in your hand. “The bug, Pete.”

Oh, right. The bug.

“Oh— uh, no,” he admitted, and that automatic flash of horror that flickered on his face went just as fast as it came, “you startled me when you came home, so it… got away, probably.”

A small hum left your lips. You turned to pour a little of your water into the wilting flower beds behind the sink. “I thought you could sense me with your… special tingle thing,” you said.

Peter ran his unoccupied hand through his messy hair. “Well, I usually can. I guess I was just really focused, or… something…” he mumbled. Focused… or really fucking floored. Either way, his reflexes were not showroom quality at the moment, he had to admit.

“Right,” you replied, shooting him another pointed look. The way he seemed to squirm and fidget told you everything in that moment. Peter was a terrible liar, really, but you couldn’t blame him for trying. A falling sort of feeling fluttered in your stomach, knowing what he knew as he stood before you.

The clock hanging on the kitchen wall ticked loudly. The fridge hummed. You both stared at each other, saying a lot without saying anything.

He loved you. He knew he did. And he knew you loved him, too. He just didn’t know why you didn’t tell him about this— and, better yet, he had no idea how to bring it up.

Peter’s hands wrung around his mask and the truth bomb inside of it. You sucked in a long breath through your nose.

“Are you pregnant?”

“I’m pregnant.”

You both spoke at the same time yet again. You both felt your hearts drop simultaneously.

But Peter’s shoulders fell and a powerful breath escaped him, like releasing a heavy weight. He shifted to lean against the kitchen counter, gripping the edge of it for balance.

“I came in to use your bathroom really quick and while I was peeing I glanced down and saw— saw this—“ he pulled the stick out from his mask, holding it in the air like some magical item as he rambled, “—and I thought it was fake at first, like, some weird prank, but it looks really real— at least I think it does, I haven’t really seen a whole lot of them in person— but then I realized that’d be a weird prank and you weren’t even home and then you came home and I panicked and—“

“And you ripped my towel rack off,” you cut in.

“And I accidentally grabbed your towel rack, and you tried to assault me with a trophy—“

“I thought you were some weirdo waiting to kidnap me!”

“You need to work on your big girl voice, by the way. They’re supposed to actually believe you have a gun.”

Your unamused glare was betrayed by the hint of a smile on your lips. It was gone with a slight shake of your head, though, brought back to the situation at hand. “You snooped through my stuff?”

Peter paused. “I didn’t… I didn’t snoop . I wasn’t looking for anything. I just saw it,” he said, “it was in the trash.” He watched you avert your gaze and gently wrap your arms around yourself, just a few feet away from him in your quiet kitchen. The last thing he wanted was for this to feel like some sort of confrontation. He had a million questions, and a million emotions, but even in his slight panic and shock Peter could recognize this was strange and difficult for you, as well. “When… when did you take this?”

His voice was softer now, and it almost made everything worse. You sighed, fingers smoothing over your own arms in a self-soothing motion. “The other night,” you replied quietly.

“Okay,” he swallowed, trying to think. Be empathetic, Peter. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Clearly stressed, your head rolled back in slight exasperation and a light groan escaped you. “I was going to. I just— do you know how daunting that is? I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

The smallest quiver in your words broke his heart.

Peter was fast. He moved forward, discarding the things in his hands and shifting them to sit on your hips. “Hey,” he soothed, his thumbs kneading gently into the soft skin just under your shirt. “It’s okay. I’m not mad, baby. I get it. It’s a lot to deal with.”

Your gaze was fixed forward, stuck on the black spider emblem on his chest. Peter let his hands gently glide up your sides, to sit over your shoulder blades. He pulled you into his chest and pressed his mouth to the top of your head.

There was so much to say and Peter’s brain refused to cooperate— he enjoyed holding you, though, sighing softly once he felt you finally lean in.

There was a lot to talk about. A lot to think about. But despite the strange mix of vulnerability and anxiety making your chest tight, Peter’s air of sweetness softened the raw feeling.

Obviously, something like this wasn’t on your radar, at least not right now. The ‘what about our future’ discussion was nerve-wracking enough without this sort of… push. But, unfortunately, you couldn’t just ignore it. The gears were already turning and nearly spitting smoke out of your ears when Peter broke up your whirlwind of thoughts.

“… I’m just saying, PJ is a cute nickname for Peter Junior.”

He felt you smile against his chest.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 48

Part 1 Part 47

The nostalgia of the morning cannot be overstated for Steve. Sure, the fight over the bathroom is more cramped than it used to be, and Eddie’s much grumpier in the mornings than Tommy’s ever been. And yeah, Eddie doesn’t have enough spare toothbrushes, so Steve has to fake disgust when Carol snatches his out of his hand and starts brushing her own teeth with nary a rinse-off.

Carol digs through Eddie’s drawers until she finds a shirt ripped up enough that tucking it into yesterday’s jeans looks like a purposeful statement instead of a walk-of-shame look, ignoring Eddie’s squawking. Steve does the same, and by the time they stumble into the morning dressed and ready, Eddie looks like he’s adopted a couple preps he’s converted to his demonic metal ways. It’s Carol’s hair – too perky by halves. 

And yeah, Uncle Wayne is sitting at the table, eyebrows raised like he’s trying to figure out the minutiae of the three of them coming out of his nephew’s room bright and early on a random Tuesday morning. Sleepovers at Steve or Tommy’s never involved any sort of parental oversight, and one’s at Carol’s involved everyone sneaking out of the window to avoid the breakfast table all together.

“Didn’t make enough toast,” Uncle Wayne mutters tiredly, even as his eyes vertifiably twinkle over his mug as he looks between the three of them before settling onto his nephew.

Eddie, never a morning person even on the best of days, slumps down in his customary chair, thumping his forehead down on the table with a groan. 

Carol scoffs, scooping up a piece of toast and eggs onto one of the two empty plates laid out, glaring at Eddie as she takes a ferocious bite. Then, seemingly remembering her manners, she smiles over at Uncle Wayne like butter wouldn’t melt and sweetly says, “thank you, Uncle Wayne.”

Steve goes to the counter, shoving two more pieces of bread in the toaster and waiting impatiently for them to pop back up. 

Behind him, Eddie’s near-snoring into his eggs, snuffling. Steve turns around, smiling as Uncle Wayne elbows him in the ribs. “Introduce me to your friend, boy.”

“Not my friend,” Eddie mutters. Steve turns back force the half-baked toas up and out of the toaster impatiently just as Eddie hurriedly continues, “but this is Carol Perkins! Steve’s–”

“Best friend,” Carol says. Steve slides back over to them, leaning against the fridge to watch the show, unwilling to slink off into the living room when there’s a show to be had. He eats both pieces dry, choking it down with a glass of orange juice he pours from the fridge.

He downs the cup, wiping his juice-mustache, before meeting Uncle Wayne’s judgemental eyes. “Don’t have room for another stow-away.”

Carol chokes on her eggs as Steve laughs. “This one will be leaving,” he says.

Everyone ignores Eddie grumbling quietly under his breath. “Aww, Stevie,” she says, pouting up at him and lowering one of her eyelids mockingly. “You trying to get rid of little old me?”

Steve rolls his eyes, turning his back to rinse out his juice cup before putting it carefully on the rack to dry. “Whatever,” he mutters, walking past the table to go snag their backpacks from Eddie’s room, stomping out of the trailer with a called, “bye, Uncle Wayne!” to wait for the other two by the van.

Eddie comes stumbling out, clearly being pushed along by an unmerciful Carol. He slides into the driver’s seat just as Steve’s buckling his seatbelt. Instead of settling down in the back, Carol sits between them on the floor, bickering with Eddie over what cassette they should play.

When they park, Carol barely waits for the van to come to a complete stop before jumping out and skipping off, blowing a kiss over her shoulder just before she melds into the mob that is the student body at large.

Steve and Eddie sit in silence for a moment, reveling in the silence, like the echoing quiet after a bomb has gone off. Or when the cops come, and someone cuts the music at a party.

“What a freak,” Eddie says. He sounds like he can’t decide between being impressed or disgusted by her, unsure where he’s going to land.

Steve laughs, sliding out of the car himself, following in Carol’s wake. The day passes, Steve rides the wave of it, a buoy on the waves that never quiet settles into one spot.

It’s not Carol who sits at their table at lunch, but a Nancy-less Jonathan. Steve smiles absently at him as he squeezes between Steve and Eddie, eyes shifting over to his old table. Carol’s already there, whispering heatedly into Tommy’s ear. He looks sullen, eyebrows pinched and mouth sneering the way it always does when someone tells him something he doesn’t want to hear. Carol smack him with the back of her hand, hard in the arm until he leans away, full-on scowling as she continues to scold him.

It doesn’t take a genius to guess the topic of their conversation, especially after Tommy’s eyes lock with Steve’s across the busy lunchroom. Their gazes hold. Tommy looks serious, sad in a way he rarely is, even more rarely lets show in public. Steve’s heart shudders, the long-buried desire for the past rearing its head.

But then Jonathan leans into him, whispers, “I think we should tell someone,” and Steve glances his way.

When he looks back, Tommy’s turned away entirely, slamming the contents of his tray into the trash as he stalks out of the cafeteria entirely. Steve looks back to Carol, who meets his eyes with a snarl on her face, shrugging, like she’s indifferent to Tommy’s reaction. Steve sighs, looking away.

“Tell someone what?” Steve asks quietly.

Jonathan leans closer, lowering his voice even further. “About your weird powers,” Jonathan replies, the “duh” silent but heavily implied by his tone.

Steve scrunches his nose up, looking over Jonathan’s head at Eddie, who looks just as baffled as he is. “…who?” Eddie asks, just as Steve says, “why?”

Jonathan looks back and forth between them, his eyes just as intense as usual. “The lab people contacted Mom,” he says, mouth barely moving. “They wanted to check up on Will, see how he’s doing.”

Steve looks at Eddie over Jonathan’s hunched shoulders. For once, he can’t tell what Eddie’s thinking. Can’t even tell what he’s thinking himself besides a visceral reaction of wrong wrong wrong that makes him want to curl up in a ball somewhere dark and small.

“Uh, they experimented on a kid, dude,” Eddie says, scoffing. “No way in hell should we trust them with any further weirdness.”

“They what?” Steve demands.

Eddie waves his hand placatingly. “Later, Stevie,” he says, not taking his eyes away from Jonathan. “If Mama Byers wants to trust shady government goons, you shouldn’t tell her either.”

Jonathan looks down at the table. Steve notices he hadn’t even bothered to grab lunch before sitting down. He scoots his own food closer to Jonathan, feels relieved when he immediately steals a couple fries.

“But what if she makes him go?” Jonathan whispers around the fry in his mouth. “What if there’s something actually wrong with Will?” Left unsaid, is that if something’s wrong with Will, there’s something wrong with all three of them.

The tight ball of Steve’s emotions curls up tighter, constricting his throat until it’s hard to choke out, “we’ll go with him.”

Eddie squawks, “what?” incredulously, leaning over Jonathan like he wants to shake Steve where he sits. Their friends quiet around the table, staring over at them, attention caught from Eddie’s shocked outburst. Eddie smiles nervously around the table before murmuring from the side of his mouth, “fucking fine!”

Steve slumps, relieved. Disappointed. Stressed enough that his organs are eating themselves inside him.

He eats a fry, like a normal boy on a normal Tuesday lunchtime would do. “Let us know what she decides to do,” he demands.

Jonathan nods. He spends the rest of lunch taking up space between them. A Byers is a Byers is a Byers, but Steve can’t help spending the rest of lunch tugging at the tie between him and Will, hoping the kid is okay.

Part 49

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @1-8oo-wtfbro @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso

[boorines]

Can I request an imagine for Chan, being a soft boyfie taking care of his significant other when they come back home all stressed and overwhelmed with work ✨

hi anon, here u go!! hope u enjoy it <3

i assumed this was for a fem reader but if it isn’t please let me know!!

not proofread please ignore any mistakes <3

—

you toss your bag onto the chair as you walk into the bedroom, flopping onto the bed in exhaustion. you’re too tired to manage anything but a small smile when you feel the bed dip beside you.

“hi, you”, chan whispers, rubbing small circles on the back of your hand.

“hi”, you breathe out, so very grateful for his presence.

he gently coaxes you into a sitting position, pulling you into his side softly before dropping a kiss on your head. “long day?”, he questions. you nod against his shoulder and sigh.

“not great, either. two presentations due next week and a research essay due thursday”, it sounds like one long word the way it tumbles out of your mouth.

chan squeezes your shoulder softly, lightly tracing patterns on your arm. “a movie and bed, then? have you eaten?”, his brows furrow when you shake your head no. “dinner, movie and bed”, he amends with a decisive nod.

he leaves another kiss on your forehead before leaving the room and returning with a pack of makeup wipes. he stands in front of you and gently tugs you up onto your feet before gathering you into his arms. “let’s freshen you up, yeah?”, he whispers into your hair. you nod in gratitude and thank your stars for chan, for his presence and for his unwavering support.

you find yourself sat on the bathroom countertop with chan stood between your knees. he gently swipes at the makeup on your cheeks with damp wipes, humming at his work in approval before moving to your forehead. one of his hand gently holds your chin, tilting your face towards his. as he wipes across your forehead his eyes drop to yours, your soft gaze and warm smile making his knees weak. you feel his hand move from your chin to the side of your face, cupping your cheek with all the care in the world. chan strokes your skin once, twice, before leaning down and pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. you smile into the kiss, squeezing his forearm as you feel him sigh into your mouth.

“you’re unbelievable”, he whispers, pulling away.

“i’ve done nothing but sit here. you’re unbelievable”, you respond with an incredulous shake of your head.

“just sitting here and yet driving me crazy”.

you blush at his words, cheeks dusted a soft pink as you swat at his arm. the laugh you draw from him is all you needed to hear today.

the bath that chan runs for you is steaming when you sink into the water and lukewarm when you finally decide to step out. you reach for the towel rack to dry off and your brows knit together when you find no towels hanging from the metal rod.

“channie?”, you call out from the bathroom, praying he’s not too far on the other side of the door. you’d walk out and fetch one yourself but the new rug by your shared bed would take the brunt of your bath.

“yes? you okay in there, love?”, you hear through the bathroom door.

“all good! could you please hand me a towel? there’s none in here”. you hear a muffled hum of acknowledgment before the door creaks open.

chan pokes his head into the bathroom to pass you a towel. it must be fresh out the dryer, you think, when you feel how warm it is in your hands. you look up at your boyfriend and find his cheeks blazing, eyes turned to the floor.

“chan?”, you question. “what is it?”

he shakes his head softly before looking up at you in wonder. you wrap yourself up in the towel before walking towards him, stepping into the bedroom as he moves away from the door to make room for you.

“you’re gorgeous”, you hear him whisper behind you and you turn around to face a chan that looks like he’s been struck by cupid.

“this isn’t new to you, love”, you chuckle, squeezing his hand.

“might as well be, seeing how i can never get used to it”, he replies. and now it’s your turn to blush.

he sits himself down on the edge of the bed, quietly watching you in awe as you change into an old pair of shorts and one of his t-shirts. he thinks his heart could burst. “dinner”, he announces softly after you’re ready, tugging you into the living room.

post dinner, you find yourself in bed with blankets wrapped around you, head resting on chan’s chest and an arm lazily slug over his torso. his arm is resting securely on your waist, soft kisses being placed atop your head.

“movie?”, he mumbles into your hair. he moves towards the laptop on the bedside table when he feels you nod against his chest.

he’s setting the laptop on his legs, finding a comfortable place to rest it when when he asks you what you’re in the mood for. he tinkers with the laptop a little more before asking again, ready to pick what you respond with. he looks down at your head when he doesn’t hear an answer.

your eyes are closed, face pressed against his chest while yours rises and falls rhythmically. his eyes soften and he melts, fond smile growing on his face. he carefully replaces the laptop before settling further into the pillows.

he gently moves your head higher up his chest, a precaution he takes just in case you wake up with a sore neck. with a whispered ‘goodnight’, he drops a soft kiss to your head.

taking care of each other is routine. because at the end of the day, he has you and you have him.

[hugshughes]

Liquid Courage J. McCarthy

JJ McCarthy x fem!reader

synopsis - JJ calls you in the middle of the night, inebriated and affectionate. His confessions leave your heart heavy as he sleeps off his drunken haze on your couch. It isn't until the next morning JJ realizes the extent of what he's admitted.

wc - 3.4k

contains - UNEDITED! super cute! alcohol consumption, underage alcohol consumption, JJ gets drunk, eating, hugging. ALL WHILE SOBER: kissing, touching, makin out kinda. reader is insecure about herself (even though she's so cute and pretty), drunk confession, reader gets sad, cursing, i think that's it! oh takes place like october of last year! Rushed ending sorry

an - based on THIS request! LOVEEEEEEDDDDD THIS REQUEST SO MUCH! this was so cute loved it!! #imnotdead :D

-

You hummed to yourself as you pranced around your kitchen, the banana bread you just put in the oven leaving the aroma of your apartment warm. Your hair was in a braid down your back, your adorable pink striped Victoria's Secret pajamas soft against your skin. Music played from your Alexa, your nighttime playlist floating through the air, one of Olivia Rodrigo's new songs gracing your ears.

The thick socks covering your feet kept them from the cold of the linoleum in your bathroom. You took out your contacts, throwing them out before slipping on your glasses. You grabbed your phone off the counter after exiting the bathroom, seeing a couple Snapchat notifications, some from TikTok, and a few messages from your best friend. All three of her texts had said something along the lines of how you should've come out tonight. The third one said how JJ McCarthy was asking where you were. You sighed, turning your phone back off and checking on your banana bread.

JJ had been your friend since freshman year. He was very sweet and so kind. He was so mature and was one of the most polite people you knew. You'd always thought he was extremely cute, I mean, who didn't think that? He had the cutest smile, and the softest dirty blonde hair. His blue eyes were gorgeous. He'd started his little flirting game with you about halfway through sophomore year. He'd compliment you endlessly whenever you saw him, he'd randomly ask you out in the middle of a conversation. That same smile on his face, bright as ever. You, of course, took it all as a joke, a cruel one at that. You assumed JJ was just a flirty guy with a flirty personality, you'd experienced it before. There was zero chance someone like JJ McCarthy would like you.

"Come on. You guys really think he's being serious when he says that stuff?"

"Yes! We do, because he likes you, and it's so obvious. He doesn't talk to us like that, does he?"

You rolled your eyes. Starting to get pissed with them. Your brain could not compute the idea of JJ really liking you.

"Why in the world would JJ McCarthy, probably the most eligable bachelor on the campus of Michigan, like me? I'm not one of the prettiest girls at Mich, let alone am I the prettiest girl that likes him!"

Sometimes you would wonder that if you thought you were pretty, then maybe you'd believe them. You had bad underlying insecurities that stopped you from believing that any guy would like you, let alone someone like JJ.

You leaned your forehead against your silver fridge, the cool of the metal relaxing you. You could hear its low whirring and humming with your proximity to it. The sound occupying your brain as a white noise, leading you to close your eyes. You might've actually fallen asleep if the timer for your bread didn't go off, you scrambling to shout at your Alexa to, 'Please, stop!' You grabbed oven mitts and grabbed the tray after sticking a toothpick into it to check the middle. You set the pan down on your cooling rack, sliding your gloves off. You grabbed your phone and paused your music, going to sit on the couch while your bread cooled.

You stalked your friends Snapchat stories, they were all having fun at the big party everyone seemed to be attending. You halted when you saw your best friend's private story, you knew it only had a handful of people so she posted silly and random things on it.

What she'd posted was a zoomed in photo of what resembled JJ McCarthy with his head thrown back against the couch of whatever frat house they were in. His face looked miserable, and the caption on the photo was saying how that's how she too reacted when you didn't come to parties. You immediately slid up, typing in all caps telling her to shut up. You said how he was not upset over you, and how she was stupid and drunk. It was all lighthearted, you both knew it.

She immediately typed back to you, claiming he'd drunkenly asked her at least four times where you were and why you didn't want to come see him. You giggled to yourself, believing it for just a few moments. You typed to her for a few more minutes before your phone started vibrating in your hand, JJ's contact coming onto your screen. You were met with the photo you'd had him saved with, him smiling that bright beautiful smile across the table from you at Panera sometime during last school year. What was JJ calling you for? You slid to answer, holding your phone to your ear. It was oddly quiet on his end, though he was actively attending a party. He called your name, and you called his.

"JJ? What's up? Are you alright?"

"Hi! Oh my gosh, hi. I can't believe you aren't here right now, I was only excited to see you."

You smiled sadly, he was endearing, and so totally plastered.

"Aw, JJ, I'm sorry. Where are you? It's pretty quiet for a party."

"Oh, yeah. I'm just in the bathroom, standin' around. I got bored. Ya' know, I miss you."

He was so drunk, his words were melting together, but his happiness stayed solid throughout.

"Jay, are you alright? Do you need someone to help you leave? Is Blake there? Colston?"

"You should, we can hang out! But yeah, he's 'round here somewhere. Lemme go get 'im."

You said okay, letting the boy look for his friend. The noise on his end got louder as he left the bathroom. You giggled when you heard him shout hey at random people around the house. You heard JJ call your name into his phone, then again.

"JJ, I'm still here. Any luck finding Colston?"

"Why don't you jus' go marry Colston if he's all 'yer gonna talk about"

You barely heard it, he muttered it with the phone a few inches from his mouth. You were shocked at the words JJ said. What?

"What, JJ?"

"Wish y'were talkin' about me."

You smiled, still a bit confused. His drunk mind was extremely silly.

"I'm talking to you, aren't I? The only boy's call I'd pick up this late."

JJ was ecstatic, smiling brightly as he continued through the party, looking for his teammates.

"I see him! Colston! Come here buddy, she wants to talk to you."

You heard a confused colston mutter 'Who's she?' before he took the phone from JJ, seeing your contact before talking to you.

"Oh hey, what's up?"

"JJ is like, absolutely plastered if you couldn't tell. Are you all good? I asked him and he told me he wanted me to pick him up. If I come get him can you bring him to my car? I'm already in my pajamas."

"Yeah, think Jay'll definitely love that. Kid hasn't stopped asking about you since we got here. I'll have him outside whenever 'ya get here."

You responded with an affirmative, thanking Colston. He handed the phone back to JJ, who was very happy to hear your voice again.

"Hey! What's up? Colston said you're coming to get me."

"Yeah, I'll see you in a couple minutes, okay Jay?"

"Awesome."

He hung up and you giggled. How did you go from an innocent call with the boy to asking him if he needed to be picked up? You shook your head at yourself, standing and grabbing your keychain.

You left your apartment and drove to the house you knew the party was at. Your friends had told you which house it was in case you changed your mind and came. It was less than ten minutes before you were in front of the bustling house, seeing two boys standing on the sidewalk.

You rolled down the window as they walked over, shouting hey to them. JJ was visibly drunk, stumbling just a little as he leaned into your car, a big smile on his face.

"Hi, pretty."

"Hi, JJ."

Colston helped his teammate into the car, making sure you were good to take care of the boy.

"Yeah, we'll be fine, Colst. I'll let 'im have my couch for tonight. I'll text you if I need anything!"

He nodded, lightly slapping the side of your car twice before retreating to the house. You turned your music back on, leaving it at a low volume as you turned around to drive home. You glanced at JJ and noticed the biggest pout on his face.

"JJ McCarthy. I know I didn't just drive over here to get you just for you to be pouting when you get in my car."

"Just text Colston about it, why don't you?"

You busted out giggling. Drunk JJ was such a treat. His jealousy over your friendship with his teammate was incredibly hilarious.

"I might if you don't start bein' nice t'me."

"Sorry 'm being mean."

He barely murmured it, though it was all you needed. You smiled brightly at him, laughing to yourself. JJ never got drunk, he usually opted for just a drink or two, or being the designated driver.

You got home quickly, making small talk with the now sleepy boy. You parked in your spot, hopping out of the car and walking around the hood to help JJ out. He'd stayed at yours after a party once or twice before, but it had always been with a couple other people. Tonight it was just you two.

You walked in, stepping into the elevator right behind JJ. The two of you stepped out of the elevator as the machine dinged and the doors slid open. JJ grabbed your hand as you walked down the hall to your door. You glanced at him, softly smiling. His eyes were barely open, but he still had a smile on his face. You didn't take the action as anything serious, JJ was a physical touch kind of person. He was always hugging people, patting shoulders, bumping fists. He was extra physical with you though, not that you noticed. You were the only girl he ever really acted like that with, again, not to your acknowledgment.

You wouldn't let yourself believe he liked you. Convinced it would hurt too much when eventually he got a prettier, skinnier, bubblier, more likable girlfriend and left you in the dust. JJ had eyes solely for you, though. He only ever looked at you. He asked anyone and everyone if they knew where you were or if you were coming to the party for God's sake.

You closed the door behind JJ and locked it, telling him to make himself at home. He took his shoes off, trying to neatly organize them in your shoe cubby. He wandered over to the couch as you kicked your shoes off and entered your kitchen. You grabbed a cold water bottle, two Ibuprofen tablets and two Tylenol tablets, the perfect hangover cure. You noticed your still warm banana bread sitting on the counter, perking up.

"Jay, do you want some banana bread?"

You heard his footsteps then saw him come around the corner, his eyebrows raised.

"Hell yes."

You giggled, gesturing for him to come stand by you. You flipped the pan over onto the cooling rack, opening the drawer directly in front of you, pulling out a bread knife. You felt a head slip into the crook of your neck, warm breath on your neck. Heat rushed your face, JJ's contagious smile spreading to you.

"Hi, crazy."

You pointed to the water and pills on the counter as you swerved out of his reach, going to grab a cutting board and a plate.

"Take those and your head won't hurt in the morning. Well, I don't know how much you drank, but that'll definitely make it better."

He nodded, immediately following your directions. He gulped down half of the water bottle while you came back over, laying the loaf of bread on the cutting board. You cut a couple pieces off, setting one onto the plate before sliding it over to JJ. He smiled at you, beginning to devour his snack. Hopefully it would absorb some of the alcohol in his stomach.

"You're amazing, you know."

He said it in a way that made it seem like he meant it on a deeper level than you'd usually assume. He said it like he truly did believe that, and it wasn't just because you fed him warm banana bread. You shook your head, brushing it off as you tore of pieces from your slice.

"No, don't shake your head a'me. You are. You act like you're not but y'are."

He was too good at making you feel special. You were just too scared to believe any of it.

"I just like to take care of people I like."

You smiled innocently at him, shrugging your shoulders as you moved to grab a proper storage container for your bread.

"And I just like when the girl I like believes me when I tell her she's amazing."

You froze in your spot. Sure, JJ had flirted with you for about a year. But, he'd never downright told you he liked you. He's drunk out of his mind. You sighed when you turned around, trying to smile at the boy as you stared into his sleepy eyes.

"You're so sleepy, JJ, and drunk."

He nodded a little, his eyes never leaving yours, that smile never leaving his face. He didn't really notice that you'd downplayed his feelings, he'd noticed even less that he'd straight up told you you were the girl he liked. All he could really notice was how beautiful you looked in the dim light of your kitchen, in your cute pajamas and glasses, hair in a messy braid.

You set JJ up on your couch, getting him another water and some thick and soft blankets and a pillow. You ran your hand through his messy hair as he laid in the couch beneath you. His eyes were begging to close, but he still smiled at you. You quietly told him to go to sleep, turning to leave. You'd only made it to the light switch before he called your name.

"I really do like you, 'm not just drunk. Just get too nervous to tell you, 'm sorry."

Your heart was heavy. You wanted to believe him, but how could you? JJ had never shown what you deemed as genuine interest in you when he wasn't inebriated. All he did was toss flirty comments around, throwing his arm over your shoulder every once in a while.

You couldn't lie and say you didn't notice the different look in JJ's eyes as he peered over the back of your couch. The truth in them.

"If you even remember this in the morning, we can talk about it. Alright?"

"That's perfect."

He smiled at you one last time before sinking below the back of your couch, out of sight.

"Goodnight Jay."

"Night night, pretty."

His words made your heart squeeze. You knew that the affection you felt for JJ wouldn't change, no matter if they were just drunk fibs.

You switched the living room lights off, heading into the kitchen. You set out another water and more pills for whenever JJ woke up in the morning. You checked the locked once more before turning all of the lights off. All you heard as you headed back to your bedroom was JJ's heavy breathing, it calmed your racing heart. You left your door cracked open incase JJ woke up needing something.

Your glasses slid up your head as your rubbed your eyes, sighing. You kept reminding your heart that JJ didn't really know what he was saying, that he would regret it.

The bed you slept countless nights in was uncomfortable as ever tonight, you tossed and turned for most of an over before climbing out of bed. You threw your cute pajamas onto the hardwood floor and traded them for a Lululemon bra and some shorts.

You fell asleep after another forty minutes of shifting every minute or so. Your sleep was light and poor. You woke up a little after four am, just three hours after finally falling asleep. Sleep finally took you again for a couple more hours, just until a little after nine.

After lying and staring at your ceiling for half an hour, you slowly sat up in bed, getting up. You exited your room, dragging yourself to the living room. The couch was empty, the blanket JJ had used folded neatly on top of the pillow. How sweet was he? You turned and walked into the kitchen, finally spotting the dirty blonde boy you wanted to see.

He turned at the sound of your footsteps, smiling. He was holding a water bottle, his eyes tired and his hair still messy.

"Good morning, JJ."

"Hi."

You felt nerves wash over you. This was it, where he either apologizes and regrets everything he said last night, or you got everything you'd hoped for. You went over to where he was leaning against your counter, hopping up to sit on the counter by him. His head fell to your shoulder as if by reflex.

"How do you feel, Jay?"

"Good, better 'cause y'took care of me."

"I just gave you some meds, Jay."

"Still."

You smiled, leaning your head on his. Maybe it would all be okay. Maybe he would be in love with you. You took a deep breath, now or never.

"Jay, do you-"

"Yes."

You pulled your head from his, turning to give him a look.

"You don't even know what I was gonna say."

"I remember what I said."

You bit your lip, still nervous. You look to where your feet dangled in the air, suddenly scared of his gaze on you.

JJ was nervous as hell too, though. You hadn't said that you liked him back, he definitely remembered that. He was beginning to take your silence as disinterest. He just stared at you, waiting for some indication of how you felt.

"And?"

"'And?' And, I like you."

Your nerves escaped from your body in a giggle, the churning of your stomach now butterflies. JJ did not appreciate the laughter though, taking it the complete wrong way.

"You don't have to laugh at me, shit."

He reached his hands to his eyes, rubbing hard as he started off, away from you. You giggled again, realizing your mistake. You jumped from the counter, sighing JJ's name out.

"Wait, wait Jay, I'm sorry. It's not like that."

You grabbed his arm, trying to halt the taller and stronger boy wasn't easy without his compliance. You shouted his name again and he stopped, turning to you.

"I'm not laughing 'cause you like me. I'm laughing 'cause I barely slept last night worried that you wouldn't like me."

JJ finally looked at you. His eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

"What's do you mean? I literally told you I liked you!"

"JJ! You were so drunk! I wasn't about to convince myself that JJ McCarthy liked me just 'cause he said so while he was plastered."

"I wasn't plastered! And, what do you mean when y'say it like that?"

You rolled your eyes, halfway annoyed. He didn't get it.

"JJ, you could probably get with any girl on the Michigan campus if you wanted to. I wasn't convinced that out of all of them you'd actually want me."

"How could I not like you?"

The truth in JJ's eyes made you feel seen. Like he actually knew you. You smiled sappily, pulling the boy down by his shoulder, kissing him deeply. One of JJ's hands gripped the back of your head, the other pulling you closer by the small of your back.

There you were, standing in your kitchen kissing the boy you could've sworn never liked you. The boy you'd been infatuated with for a year. He was finally yours.

JJ pulled away from your lips, his hands moving to cup your face. His smile was brighter than ever. You both laughed, looking into each other's eyes for just a few seconds before JJ pulled you back in.