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doromoni · 3 days

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Clash of Champions | LH44 , MV1

Act 2 . Part 4 : A Driver’s Stratagem

Ships : Lewis Hamilton x Engineer! Reader , Max Verstappen x Engineer! Reader

Genre : Drama , Angst , Romance

Warning : Morally Grey Characters , Dark Characters, Forced Drug Use , Swearing

A/N : This one took so much revisions , I swear, I put more effort and dedication into this than my Uni papers.

Summary : The rivalry between the titans of Formula 1 goes off track and only one will reign victorious

< Previous

Act 2. ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The air hummed with adrenaline and the roaring sounds of engines filled the entire circuit— as the smell of synthetic oil wafted each corner of the grid.

It was finally Sunday — it was race day. It was the day to see how truly monstrous your dynamic with the Dutch Red Bull Driver was. It was the day to make Mercedes rue the days they’d taken you for granted.

It was time to make sure that Max Verstappen would become a World Champion.

Red Bull’s garage buzzed with the sound of drills and chatters of mechanics as they set up spare parts for the cars. Everything was like clockwork, every action smooth and practiced.

It was an hour till the cars were brought out to the grid, with Max’s car placed in first— right on pole. You couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of Toto’s face, red from anger. You could still hear his deranged shouts and banging on unsuspecting headsets on tables.

With final checks on the pit wall; ensuring that whatever happens you’ll never be cut from Max’s radio. The memory of Mercedes‘ betrayal had made you paranoid, even when no one from RB had shown shown anything sketchy.

Nevertheless, it was still your first race with Max, anything and anyone can change anytime. You wouldn’t make the same mistake of trusting anyone that easily.

So engrossed with your thoughts and triple checking on the data on your station, that you didn’t realize Max’s presence behind you

“Well hello there pretty engineer “ And suddenly, you were engulfed by strong arms from behind. Max’s lips briefly met your own as you looked over your shoulder and up at the racer.

You both knew that you were supposed to be keeping things lowkey, however Max couldn’t care less when there were no cameras around — He didn’t care if cameras were present or not but out of respect for you, he kept the PDA to a minimum. You were his girlfriend and he needs everyone to know and back off, whenever he can.

“Hi, babe! I was just about to go see you. I just need to finish checking your stats” you explained to your boyfriend as you proceeded to point out something on your screen. You found the extra hundredths of the second in the track and began to fully explain every detail to the Dutch driver.

“I love it when you get all nerdy with me, Schat. “ Max suddenly interjected, a fond smile on his face as he gazed down at you.

Your cheeks grew redder by the second. A shy smile on your lips as your eyes avoided Max's eyes. You were used to people rolling their eyes at your intellect at Mercedes. Now with Max openly admiring you… you didn’t know how to respond.

“ Are you getting shy with me, Schat? How adorable can you be” Max laughed as he let go of your waist from behind, then held your cheeks together and looked directly at your steadily growing red face.

“Shut up! Don’t make me throw your race, Max Verstappen” You bluffed with the Red Bull driver a loving smile on your face, smacking your hand to his arms.

“Whatever happened to keep work and our personal lives separate? Huh, Schat?” You rolled your eyes to your cheeky boyfriend’s sass.

Oh boy, how you were starting to fall deeper for the Dutch Driver.

“Well I’m not the one who can’t keep my hands to myself in the office , now am I?” You sassed back.

“Well my girlfriend is hot and smart, how could I resist?” You couldn’t help but laugh at your boyfriend’s audacity.

“ you’re unbelievable! Aren’t you supposed to be resting and getting inside your driver's room? “ You asked as you spun your chair fully towards Max, him now in between your legs.

“I know, but I wanted to see you first. How are you feeling, Y/N? You ready for the race?” Your heart melted as Max took your hand in his and squeezed it for comfort.

“ I should be the one asking you that, Max.” You cooed at him as tears glazed your eyes. He was the one fighting for the championship and risking his life on track — yet he was concerned over you.

“ I’m ready. Thank you for trusting me as your engineer. Let’s give them hell” You grinned towards the Champion contender of Red Bull.

Max couldn’t help but capture your lips in his at the sight of you. He only dreamed of you looking at him like this. The look you once gave to Lewis Hamilton. The look of love and devotion. Now it was aimed at him.

However, unknown to the both of you a person clad in a black team uniform had been recording the entire encounter.

***

The hour flew by fast, and it was now time to race in the pinnacle of motorsport.

Max was strapped down in his car, helmet on and visor down — your voice in his ear ready to command. Max had zeroed in, all attention was ahead of him and nothing else.

While you were in your element, the Red Bull headset firmed on your head. As your co-engineers continue to exchange data amongst the team.

“ 1 minute to start Max” you echoed the time on your screen.

“Copy, Y/N. Let’s give them hell” Max’s voice held assurance. He was not just saying it. He was promising it.

“30 seconds, Max. Keep safe out there yeah? 10 seconds”

“5 seconds”

As the lights go out, Crofty delivers his famous lines. The race had begun and in the blink of an eye — 20 race cars had flown past the pit walls that held all race engineers and team principals.

As the green flag was waved the 1st lap of the 56-lap race began.

Max and Lewis showed no mercy to each other, already butting heads from the very start. Max was shoved out of the track by Hamilton. Lewis held the lead with Max not far in his tail.

“Max, keep it steady. We are going for strat 2” you calmly echoed towards the driver. You knew Max was pissed, but you had a plan for this.

“Copy, Y/N. Strat 2 is good” Max had replied.

The race had gone on with Lewis still in the lead. You knew that your old team was cherishing every second of it.

Yet you had everything pat down and you just needed to trust the data and Max’s ability to deliver. And that trust had solidified at lap 26, Max had been once again in the lead with fresher tires.

The race was starting to finish, it was the 2nd to the last lap. Hamilton was just 1.94 seconds behind Verstappen.

Your eyes darted towards the drivers on the grid, Max was fast approaching Mick’s lapped Haas. The Haas car looked like it was not going to move anytime soon.

And you were right as Max had complained on the radio.

“Michael should move out of the way.” At Max’s input — you’ve already sent the memo to Haas.

As Mick’s car gave way, Max zoomed past with Lewis right behind the Red Bull car— hopefully trying to gain p1.

Yet as the chequered flag had approached, Max had kept everything calm and cool — and in the blink of an eye, Max had crossed the finish line.

Cheers erupted from all corners of Red Bull. A huge grin on your face as Christian Horner shook your shoulder from the side.

Max had won! You were successful in leading him to victory. The relief washed over you like water on a blistering hot day. The motor world had seen you succeed outside of Mercedes — your talent didn’t just rely on Lewis.

Y/N L/N had led another driver towards victory. And you had proved that this was not a fluke or by chance.

Not when, Max had won the next race in Mexico. This time Max had won from 3rd place in the grid. And with 15 seconds to spare from Lewis.

“Max Verstappen! You’ve won Mexico! My goodness, and with a 15-second lead. You’re incredible! “ You praised your boyfriend openly astonished at his raw talent.

“Simply Lovely, Y//N! Wow! Your strategy was flawless, Thank you for that! From p3 to p1! Thank you everyone” Max’s voice echoed out of your earphones.

As you celebrated Max’s win on the podium —You were then informed that you were to be interviewed by Sky Sports right after. You had asked who was hosting. And the name of your ex-driver was said. Nico Rosberg.

You never thought of the possibility of talking to Nico again. Not after everything in Mercedes, not when your once close relationship with the German driver had been torn to pieces.

You admit that you had made mistakes, huge ones, both of you did. But you cannot deny that you missed him.

You were starting to get nervous and you had started to overthink, but your attention was drawn back towards Max.

He looked majestic up on that podium. It looked almost natural that he was on top.

The Dutch national anthem played, and you found his eyes on you. Your heart had skipped a beat, and you couldn't help but smile. A calming sensation drew over you. Negative thoughts left your mind as Max had overridden each one.

And to the surprise of the world, in front of live television, all cameras panned on him.

His lips echoed the words

“I Love You, Y/N ” his eyes still locked in yours.

Your surprise was an understatement, but your entire being felt like you were floating. You felt so much joy - you felt so much love. You felt seen and cherished

A piece of you had been healed by Max’s actions. Max had just done what Lewis could never do - He had shown the world that you were his and he was yours. Your eyes held tears as the smile on your face grew.

And you echoed back.

“I Love you too. “

As the anthem reached its final note. Champagnes then sprayed all over the podium, and into your section with your team below.

Everyone in Red Bull was enjoying the celebration including you, when you felt a pair of eyes on you. You searched for the person, you looked around and saw nothing.

But then you looked up, your eyes caught Lewis’. You saw pain, confusion and anger. His eyes used to make you back down — but not anymore.

You held his gaze, never looking away. You saw his jaw clench as he was forced to look away. Your eyes sight drew back towards Max, he was already looking at you with a look of question.

It was not one of doubt, but just plain curiosity. You knew that he trusted you. So you once again mouthed words to the Dutch driver.

“I’ll tell you later”

***

Later came quickly, as you and Max had been lounging inside his motorhome. Both are now clean yet exhausted after the shower you both took. Both of you took more than a shower inside that bathroom and you were sure that everyone had heard.

Nevertheless, neither you nor Max cared as adrenaline, emotions, and passion overtook both your senses.

You were now both presentable and dressed in comfier team uniforms. You and Max had occupied the small bed inside his driver's room. Max’s arms draped over your waist and your back gently laid on his chest.

“I’m being interviewed by Nico later” you blurted out.

“Really? Well, are you ok with doing it?” Max had questioned. Max knew everything that had happened inside Mercedes. Every betrayal and every crime that they’ve done to you. And that included your past with both drivers.

“Honestly, I miss him. Max” your voice broke as you said those words aloud. Max was the only person you got to tell about Nico. Everyone in Mercedes had hated him after he’d left and you knew Lewis despised him so you’ve always kept to yourself about how much you’ve missed your big brother figure.

When you started in F1, Nico Rosberg was your first driver and you were a junior engineer in his team. It was the year 2011 and you were just a rookie, everyone had given you no attention and kept pushing you aside, but Nico had seen you and put you under his wing.

The two of you became closer and closer as the year went on. You’ve been to his house, met his girlfriend and family and even celebrated his birthdays.

Then 2012 came, and you had grown and flourished; you had climbed the ladder in such a short amount of time —you were set to become Nico’s lead race engineer for the next year to come. At that point, you had thought that your bond with Nico would be strong forever.

That was until 2013 came. Lewis Hamilton was enlisted to Join Mercedes AMG F1. Nico was delighted to have his childhood friend on the team — much so that he introduced the two of you.

You didn’t like Lewis at first and Nico knew that and he laughed at you; saying that you weren’t going to be having much interaction with Lewis anyway since you were going to be his engineer.

And when you were announced to be Lewis’ lead race engineer — you were dumbfounded. Your eyes looked for Nico’s familiar figure but you didn’t find even his silhouette.

You felt betrayed and angry at Nico. You thought that he was the one who chose to remove you from his team. Your anger and resentment towards your supposed brother had just continued to fester— as he continued to grow distant from you.

And your emotions had drawn you to the arms of Lewis Hamilton. You’ve sought solitude in the embrace of a man in a relationship and Nico had been the only one to see this.

Then he had confronted you and had warned you to stay clear of Lewis. In your anger, so many harsh and cutting words were said — you had targeted all of his insecurities and you instantly felt regret as you let go of the words you didn’t mean.

That encounter had fully severed your relationship with Nico. You tried to apologize, but every time you tried shame filled all your senses and you just turned the other way instead.

2014 came and he got married. You waited for your invitation but it never came — you broke down once again. 2016 had been brutal, as you watched the love of your life and the brother you cherished killing each other on the track.

Nico won that year, you were secretly so happy for him. He did deserve it. Then Nico announced his retirement, and that was when you knew you had missed your chance to mend your broken relationship.

“Go talk to him. If what you told me was true, I’m sure he misses you too. He’s probably waiting for you to make the first move” Max’s words had brought peace within you and you knew what he said was right.

“Well he is a diva, “ you said jokingly. You knew that it should be you to apologize first. And it seemed that you were given the chance to right your wrongs.

“That’s Britney for you” You laughed at Max’s teasing words. Nico hated being called that, but when it came to you — he didn’t mind.

Suddenly you remembered the texts Lewis sent you last race ago. And you decided that Max should probably know it — you didn’t want to keep secrets from him.

“Babe, I need to tell you something about Lewis” You took your phone out and showed the concerning texts Lewis had sent you to the Red Bull driver.

“Holy Shit” Max’s eyes grew large as he went to read the conversation between you and Lewis

“ Right? This is so concerning. Should I tell Christian about this?” Your fingers fidgeted over your phone, as you surveyed Max’s expression.

Confusion, Puzzlement and Shock had shown itself in Max’s expression. You were about to question Max if he knew anything about that party with the other drivers when a knock and the voice of an RB personnel stopped you.

“Ms. Y/N? It's time for your interview in the paddock, we need to go now. You’ll go live in 10 minutes”

“I’ll be out now” You quickly stood up from Max’s embrace and checked yourself out in the mirror in Max’s bathroom.

You looked back at your boyfriend who was still on his bed.

“We’re continuing this conversation later, babe” You went near him chastity kissed his lips, and wiped the excess lipstick that transferred to his skin.

“ Sure, Schat. Don’t be scared of Nico alright? “ Max had reminded you, as he tucked a loose hair in your ear. You nodded your head and gave Max one last peck.

As you went out the door. Max’s facade quickly warped into coldness and irritability. Hamilton was getting in the way again.

Max then recalled his conversation with Toto Wolff.

“ This wasn’t in the deal, Wolff! “ Max hollered at the Austrian team principal.

“You wanted them to break up right?! And I don’t want Lewis anywhere near L/N. Lewis isn’t giving up, he wants her back” Toto had stated back to the Red Bull driver. As he nursed scotch in his hand, swirling the drink.

“I know that! I need them apart. But come on?!! You want to roofie your driver? Are you fucking insane?!”

“ OF COURSE I DON'T!! I have no other option! All of Lewis’ attention has been on getting L/N back, he’s fucking slacking. I need Y/N to break Lewis… fully. I need him angry — and what more than her going to the enemy? The girl is already leaving — yet still causing trouble for my fucking team”

“You’re crazy Wolff. Aren’t you worried that she’ll work with me and deny the 8th championship from you?”

“She’s already in your team, the bitch moves fast. And no I'm not worried, a girl like her can’t amount to her success. I’m sure she’ll drag you down”

“Don’t fucking talk about her like that! I swear I’ll break this glass and shove it down your throat, Wolff. We’re not friends, you’re still a piece of shit — fucking remember that.” Max suddenly threw the whiskey glass just behind Toto’s head. No ounce of fear nor regret in the Dutch driver.

“Well? What do you say Verstappen? I’ll have my people slip Lewis a pill then you’ll swoop right in and get your chance with the girl” Toto cleared his throat, taken aback by Max’s sudden show of aggression

“Do it. Drug Hamilton, I’ll do the rest. Y/N won't be Lewis’ problem. Nothing should come out of this room, you hear me, Wolff?” Max gritted out.

“ It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Max Verstappen. “

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sykostyles · 3 days

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melodies | 1.1

summary: he's the most powerful & ruthless mafia boss in the city, and she's just a music store owner. but once he hears her singing voice, he wants nothing more than to hear it for the rest of his life..and she's not so sure about that.. he'll do anything to change that. wc: 4.5k

warnings: fluff, suggestive?, cursing I think

a/n: hi babies! thank you all so much for the love on part one! I'm thrilled you're all enjoying melodies! I can't wait to bring you some more! i'm always working on this story so updates will come as they're completed! <3

Ellie offered to close for you so you could go home earlier and take your time getting ready. The only thing Harry told you was to dress comfortably. He said he wants to show off his cooking skills instead of someone elses, and this way he can make sure nobody is around that shouldnt be around.

Lately Harry had been dealing with a problem, but he wasn’t about to be telling you that. He already knew your apprehension towards dating him because of his status, he didn’t want to chance scaring you off before he had a proper chance of making you happy.

Someone had been trying to get close to Harry, trying to learn information and sell it to his number one enemy, Scott Jones; another prominent mafia boss in the area. He wanted Harry’s contacts, warehouses and secrets. Everyone wanted Harry’s contacts. Everyone wanted his status. They wanted the power. Harry had it all. The money, the loyal men, the status, the everything. The only thing he didn’t have, was the girl. But oh did he find one, and oh was he obsessed with her. But she wanted very little to do with him.

Until now.

He picked you up at six on the dot, nevermind how he got your address. You’ll just have to thank Ellie later. She’s also the one who slipped him your phone number, but she refuses to admit it.

“You look lovely. I love the matching sweatpants.” Harry grins down at you, taking your hand in his and offering a kiss to your knuckles, just as he did yesterday.

“You told me to wear something comfortable, and it doesn't get much more comfortable than sweatpants and a hoodie.”

“No, no. I’m not complaining,” he rushes out. “I said comfortable, and you–.”

“Calm down, Styles. You didn’t offend me,” you chuckle at his anxiousness. It’s a little surprising to you.

“Oh. I know,” he half laughs. “Are you ready?” you nod in response, and he opens the car door. You don’t miss the line of cars behind his as you get into the front seat.

The drive to Harry’s estate doesnt take super long. A couple of winding roads, a gate with guards, and a long driveway later and you're there.

His kitchen is set up with the best of the best; every tool and gadget you could ever need. “I was thinking we could make something together. Ellie told me your favorite thing to make is pancakes, and those happen to be my specialty,” he says, guiding you into his home.

Tall black cabinets adorned with gold hardware and a black marble countertop. Everything is so sleek, and elegant and perfect you're almost afraid to exist in the space. But it’s so warm and cozy and inviting at the same time. He’s got candles burning on the counter top and on the coffee table in the living room; which also has black furniture and dark walls.

“Did she now? What else did she tell you?” you ask, leaning across the kitchen island looking up at him on the other side.

“I guess that will be revealed in due time, my love,” Harry smiles over at you. He pulls the ingredients from the cabinet, and the fridge. “She said to make sure strawberries were involved or to not even bother,” he chuckles softly, placing a carton of fresh berries on the counter.

“That’s a little dramatic, but strawberries are the best topping for pancakes,” you take the knife as he passes it to you, softly rolling your eyes at his “Careful, it’s sharp.” and you don't miss the way he clenches his jaw when you say “Ok, dad”, in response.

“So, what made you say yes to ‘Mr. Big Mafia man’ after all my months of pining for you?”

“First of all, you were mostly pining for my piano. Second of all, I got some advice telling me to live a little and here I am doing that,” you pop a strawberry into your mouth after cutting the top off. Harry opens his mouth leaning down next to you, silently asking for a berry. You slice the top off another one, raising it to his lips for him to take. He smiles as he chews it, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time; making your skin heat up in silent anticipation.

“Sweet,” he mumbles, licking his lips after he swallows, “Very.. sweet,” his eyes flicker down to your lips, but he snaps out of it at the sound of you clearing your throat. He clears his in response, “Right, I wanted the piano. But you were the real prize,” he says, trying to regain his composure.

“Just because you heard me sing?” you effortlessly cut the strawberries into slices, setting them to the side as you spoke with him. Harry was on your right, mixing the batter together, plus the dash of cinnamon you threw in–“That’s my secret,”--you blush over at him as he eyes you.

“Nah. I was interested in you before that. Your “playing hard to get” attitude feels like a challenge.” His words make you scoff. “The singing voice is just a plus.”

“I’m not playing hard to get. I am hard to get. And I think if anything, the last year is evidence of that.” you’re grinning to yourself as you continue your task.

“Sure is,” he mumbles to himself, but loud enough for you to hear, making you grin. “But that’s okay, I like a challenge.” He turns away from the counter, leaning to turn the stove on.

“You certainly are the most persistent person I've ever met.” leaves you in the form of a chuckle. You hate to admit how flattered he make you feel by being so adamant in trying to know you

“I don't know, you were pretty persistent on not letting me take you on a date. And about that piano of yours.” He starts dripping the mix onto the surface, creating perfect circles.

Of course.

Insert eye roll here.

“Hey, you agreed to not bring up my piano if i sang for you,” you watch him work effortlessly.

“I agreed to stop trying to buy it. I still intend to tease you about it. Although I would appreciate some help in finding a piano that’s as nice as that one.”

You’re startled by a voice that isn't Harry’s. “Sir, there’s been developments.” Harry’s demeanor changes in front of your eyes. His gaze finds the man near the entrance of the kitchen and immediately hardens.

“I said, no interruptions. Are you aware of what that means?” his tone makes your blood run cold. You’ve never seen him this way before. He’s always been goofy and kind to you, sure he demands his men’s respect and can get them to do whatever he wants with the snap of his fingers, but this is different,

“Y-yes, sir, but this is impo–”

“Enough, Liam. Take it to Niall and Mitch,” Harry demands. “I’ll decide what to do with you later. Now leave us.”

“Yes, Har–Sir. Yes, sir.” the man says, leaving in a rush.

“He’s new if you couldn't tell,” Harry jokes, demeanor switching back in an instant.

“You don’t have to talk to him like that, you know,” you toss a strawberry into your mouth.

“In my line of work, I do. But let's not focus on that, I know you don’t really care for that side of me and that’s okay.”

“Yes, please just keep me in the dark on all of that,” you chuckle, “I don’t need anything else on my conscience,” your words make him laugh. But you also notice the look of worry laced behind his eyes.

“So does that mean there will be a next time?”

“Mm, too early to tell Mr. Mafia man. But I am enjoying this so far.” you offer him a soft smile.

The two of you continue to move effortlessly throughout his space together, as if you were meant to be a part of it all along. He flashes you that award winning smile any chance he gets. After the pancakes are done and topped with the strawberries, he leads you to his patio where he has a large projector screen set up with a sea of blankets and pillows for you two to sit on.

“I hear you enjoy the Harry Potter movies, and I happen to be a fan as well. So i figured we could have a little marathon while we got to know each other,”

“Har–” you notice the way his eyes glimmer with a sliver of hope, but that was a mess up,--”Styles, that sounds perfect,” you whisper. His face slightly drops at your correction, but he’s deterred none. Shaking it off, he smiles over at you, helping you take a seat on the blanketed area.

“You strike me as a slytherin with that attitude of yours,” he jokes with you. “I’m a Gryffindor myself.”

“Mm, I would have thought you to be a Hufflepuff,”

“Those are fighting words,” he says as he leans over and grabs a pillow. Swiftly catching on, you immediately grab one as well and strike first; landing a blow to the side of his head. He chuckles, “You’re going to regret that, Birdie,” his threat makes you giggle.

You burst with laughter as he takes hold of one of your ankles, and pulls you towards him, making you tumble back from the sudden movement; the pillows breaking the short fall from your sitting position. His pillow begins making repeated contact with your upper body, your arms shoot up in an attempt to cover your head. His light blows of the pillow make both of your laughs fill the air.

“God, Styles at–whack–least pretend to–whack–-let me win,” you giggle out.

He pauses his movements for a split second, smiling at you from above deviously. He takes hold of both of your hands in one of his, slightly pulling you into a sitting position.

“No,” and he whacks you again lightly upside your head, sending you backwards into the pillows below again

“Rude,” you huff, making him laugh.

“Had enough?”

“Mhm,” you pout. Putting your hand out, you silently ask for help, but keep hold of your pillow with the other hand. He pulls you to sit, but is surprised to feel your pillow collide with the side of his face, sending him backwards this time. You take the opportunity to straddle his hips, and repeatedly whack him with the pillow. Lightly of course.”How do you like it? Hm?” you tease from above. Harry has that permanent grin all over his face. His hands find your hips, giving them a light squeeze before he switches your positions so he's hovering over you again. You go silent, but have a huge smile etched onto your lips.

“What’s wrong, Birdie?” he gloats, “Got no defense now?” Low laughs fall from his lips as he watches you swallow in anticipation, You look up to his lips, also forming a grin. “Whatcha lookin at? Hm?”

“Do you want to kiss me as bad as I want to kiss you right now?”

“I’ve wanted to kiss you from the moment you first told me ‘No’ when I asked to buy your piano, and then even more when you told me to get out of your store.”

“Why haven’t you then?” you ask breathlessly, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I wanted you to be comfortable with the idea before I made my move,” he says, connecting your lips together for the first time.

You’ve never felt so comforted yet nervous by someone's touch before. He feels of danger and darkness, but comfort and safety at the same time. He could give you the best of both worlds, if you’d let him of course. Deepening the kiss he feels your hands snake under his shirt, learning the defined muscles across the area. Harry caresses the side of your face in his left hand, bracing himself near your head on the right.

He pulls away, looking at the blown look in your eyes and chuckles softly. “As much as I would love for this to continue, I want to do this right with you and make sure this is really what you want.”

Harry’s admission makes your hardened heart soften just a little bit. “Ever the gentleman, Styles.”

“Still just Styles after that?” he teases.

“The night is not over yet,” you sit up, shoving him backwards.

“Indeed it is not.”

“I can’t believe you’d be offended to be a hufflepuff. Don’t you know they say every Slytherin needs a Hufflepuff?”

Harry ponders for a moment, a look on his face that makes you think he’s actually mulling over a serious thought inside his big ass head. “If you’re guaranteed to be my Slytherin then I'd consider the change.”

“You’d change your Hogwarts house for me?” you look down to your hands sitting in your lap, a grin formed on your lips as you speak.

“I’d try to change the world for you,” Harry whispers. Your head snaps up, looking into his eyes.

“That.. has to be the cheesiest thing i've ever heard on a first date,” you chuckle, making him laugh with you.

“Please, you were eating that up Birdie.” he attempts to play it off.

“Would you really though?”

“Of course,” he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Any chance we’ll do this again? Or am I banned?” Harry asks, pulling your hand up to kiss your knuckles. Giggles leave your lips.

Leaning up, you give him a kiss. “What do you think, Styles?” you whisper. Harry’s skin heats up, his face turning a light tinge of pink

“How about this friday?”

“That’s literally tomorrow,” you chuckle.

“Okay?” he questions, unsure where your worry is coming from. He'll ease all of your worries if you’d let him. He’d give you everything if you’d let him.

So what? He thinks

You pretend to mull it over in your head for a moment, “Okay.” you finally agree.

“Okay?” He seems almost puzzled.

“Okay. But no labels. And nothing extravagant.”

“Okay,” he smiles at you, offering one more kiss and a “See you tomorrow, Birdie.” Harry leaves you standing in the doorway to your apartment, a light blush evident all over your cheeks.

Heading inside you immediately call Ellie to thank her for being so thorough in telling Harry everything about you. She was adamant she didn't know what you were talking about but said you’re welcome anyways. “Now, about Mitch” you start telling her the details about the double bunned man.

A slew of dates followed the first one. He was determined to change your mind about no labels… and about not wanting anything extravagant. Harry wanted to show you the world of opportunities he offered you by saying yes to being his. The second date he took you one was to the restaurant he owned at the marina. Some of the finest dining you’d ever seen. A complete turn around from the pancakes you’d had the night before. When you’d asked him what to wear this time, he’d told you not to worry, that something would show up for you soon. A sleek, black satin dress with a scoop neckline showed up at your store before your date, earning a genuine eye roll from you.

“I said nothing extravagant, Styles,” you scolded him as you stepped into the car.

“The smile you’re attempting to hide from me betrays your words, Birdie,” he gloats from his seat next to you. “You look wonderful.”

“Just because I like playing dress up does not mean I'm not mad at you.”

Harry grabs your hand, raising it to his lips to place a soft kiss on the back. The gesture never failing to make you blush. “Whatever you say, darling.”

“Sir, Scott Jones has just arrived at the restaurant. Should we change locations?” Suguru questions from the front seat.

“No, this is my turf…” he begins speaking, his grip on your hand almost feels tighter as the words leave him. “...I won’t be made a fool of in my own establishment.”

“Scott Jones?” you whisper to Harry who’s got a vice grip on his cellphone, typing angrily. Your hand comes to rest on his leg.

The stiffness in Harry’s stature eased at the sound of your voice and the feeling of your touch. He wonders just where you’ve been all of his life. Your ability to make the darkness not seem so dark inside his mind makes him feel like there might be a point to all of this.

“He’s just a contact. Nothing for you to worry about, Birdie,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

Harry loved taking photos. His camera roll was full of his favorite things to look at. Whether it was a nicely decorated room or a view he’d seen on a business trip. But now, his camera roll was full of one thing and one thing only; you. Photos of you from your first date, lying peacefully in the blanket fort with pillows surrounding your serene looking frame. He thought you looked beautiful when you were all dressed up, but he thought you looked your best when you were dressed down. Harry just loved having reminders of your pretty face.

He had other photos of you; sitting at your piano, or laying in his bed. Photos of you on every date he’d taken you on. So many videos of you singing along with the radio. Any song could come on when he was visiting you and you were able to match the tempo perfectly on the keys. Your voice always sounded sweet like honey in his ears. His favorite photo was the one you took with him, a selfie of you kissing his cheek. He felt like a teenage boy freaking out over his highschool crush when he spent almost an hour just grinning to himself while looking at the picture.

You were still hesitant to say you were fully in a relationship with him, even all these months later. He’d visit you every day in your store, telling you he’d be ready whenever you were. You were it for him, he was just waiting for you to be on the same page.

Harry smiled down at you laying on his chest. He’d rented a cabana at the beach and planned a day with you just to relax and be with each other. Talking of everything big and small. After you mentioned that you loved being around water, it seemed like every date had a water undertone to it. A dinner date at the marina. A trip to the aquarium. Day dates on his yacht, which often turned into sunset cruises. Multiple beach dates. This beach date started to remind you of Pretty Woman since Harry offered to read your book to you while you rested your eyes.

As he read the words off the page all you could think about was how hard you’d fallen for this man without even being aware of it. You can't even pinpoint when it happened. What you do know is that looking up at him in this moment as he reads your book back to you, you’re head over heels for him.

“This reminds me of Pretty Woman so much,” you chuckle, sitting up out of his hold.

“When he was reading to her under the tree?”

“You’ve seen it?” you look at him with shock in your eyes. You’d never have thought in a million years Mr. Mafia man would have seen such a chick flick.

“I hadn't before, but you’ve mentioned it so much I wanted to see what you were referring to,” Harry admitted, closing the book with a thud. He sits up next to you, and caresses the side of your face. Leaning into his touch, you smile softly at him.

“You’re really determined, you know that?” you whisper.

Harry rubs his thumb over the apple of your cheek, eyeing your mouth as he speaks. “Took you long enough to notice,” he places a soft kiss to your lips and feels you smile against his mouth.

“Who knew the big mafia boss had a soft side.” you chuckle, kissing him back.

“Only for you, darling. When are you gonna let me make it official and call you mine?” his thumb brushes over your bottom lip.

“I--" you start to think of what to say. You want to try this with him. He’s more than proved himself, but you still have reservations. Mostly because of who, or what he is. His life eats, sleeps and breathes danger. You just want to run your little music store in the middle of downtown. He’s making it easy to forget that life you had planned for yourself.” –I don't know. I’m scared.”

“I know you are, but I'm here when you’re ready.” His fingers thread their way into your hair as he lulls your head to the side and pressing his lips to your neck. “I have a question for you though,” he whispers against the surface. Harry pulls back to gauge your reaction

Your eyes look glazed over and blown out, so he continues. Your hands find his shoulders in an attempt to hold yourself upright on the cabana bed.

“Well, more of a request,” he hums. “I have an event tomorrow evening I need a date for. Would you be interested in accompanying me?

“Is it something fun?” you pull his head to be level with yours, looking directly at his lips with lust behind your gaze.

“Have I asked you to do anything so far that hasn't been fun?”

“No,” you shake your head at him and kiss him. Pushing him to lay back, your leg hikes up around his hip. “I would love to accompany you to your event tomorrow, Styles.”

“Still just Styles, huh? Even when you’re trying to get into my trunks?” His teasing words make you retract your touch from his body, fully sitting up again. “Nuh uh, you get back here,” he laughs, pulling you back down with him making you giggle. Harry gives you an onslaught of kisses all over your face, pulling more and more laughs from you; his second favorite thing to hear. He knows all of his favorite sounds will get outranked one day… he just has to wait for that day to come. Harry slides his hands down your sides and digs his fingertips into your sides, making you squeal.

“S-stop! I’m ticklish!” you whine.

“Oh, and that’s supposed to make me want to stop?” He continues his playful assault, laughing along with you. You manage to get one up on him, swinging your leg over his hips so you’re straddling him. Taking hold of his wrists in your hands, you pin them on either side of his head, smirking down at him. “Mm, what’s your plan now, Birdie?” he shows off that million dollar smile. You cover his lips with yours, tasting the salt from the ocean on his skin. Harry offers you a hum of approval at the feeling of your mouth on his, making you smile. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, making you gasp. Letting go of the grip on his wrists, your hands tangle into the chestnut tufts of his hair. Harry cups your jaw with both hands as he pulls you off of him. “We can't,” he whispers against your lips before you’re attaching your lips again. “Birdie,” he says, pulling you off again.

“What?” you ask, a grin plastered on your face. “Why can't we?”

“Well, number one we’re in public,” he motions to all the other couples scattered around the various surrounding cabanas. “And two, Mitch and Niall are not going to be getting an eyeful of what's mine,” he growls, taking your lips with his once more. You groan once he pulls away.

“I never said I was yours,” you tease, letting him sit up with you.

“You’ve always been mine…” he says, caressing the side of your face in one hand, “...ever since I stepped into your store for the first time.”

You clear your throat, “Right, about tomorrow though?”

Ellie won't let you see the dress you’re wearing; the only thing she’ll tell you is that it's red and beautiful. You decided to close up early since she’d offered to help you get ready. Harry said he was going to take care of everything, but you at least asked if you could get ready yourself. Having strangers mess with your appearance wasn’t at the top of your ideal things to do today list.

Harry told you to be ready by seven, he’d pick you up on the dot. You were sitting in the sink of your bathroom as you put your makeup on, paying extra close attention to the details today. Ellie stands behind you with the curling iron as you two argue over Harry. You’re still adamant on not being ready, but Ellie keeps calling your bluff.

“Why wont you just let yourself be happy?” Ellie asks as she helps you curl your hair.

“You date a Mafia boss and tell me you're not terrified at the end of the day,” you chuckle, sweeping your blush brush across your cheeks.

“So you’re telling me you dont like him?”

“That’s not what I said, I said I was scared.”

“So you do like him?” she asks excitedly.

You do, and that’s what scares you. This was supposed to be just something fun for you. You never envisioned feeling this way.

You nod slowly, “Probably too much,” the admission feeling like a weight off of your shoulders. “Think I’ll tell him tonight, if it goes as well as I'm hoping it does.” Ellie is bubbling with excitement at your words. She’s probably already planning your wedding.

“You’ve been leading him on for months now, just give in and see where it takes you!”

Ellie was kinda right. But in reality, you don’t owe him anything and you know that. But you do really want to see where this could possibly take you. You already feel so much for this man, but who knows what else could happen.

Harry picked you up exactly when he said he would, knocking on your door at seven sharp. You open the door, and you’re met with your handsome date for the evening in a black on black suit with a red boutonniere on the left hand side that matches your dress impeccably well.

“You look… wow.”

A light blush forms on your cheeks at his words. “You look pretty wow yourself, Harry.”

He takes your hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the silky material of the gloves that stop just below your elbow. “You look fantastic, not just wow.” he smiles at you, placing a kiss on your cheek. “I have one more surprise,” he pulls a box from his jacket pocket.

“Oh? And what would that be?”

“Well, I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

taglist: @freedomfireflies @harrysonlylover @daydreamingofmatilda @triski73 @evie-119

@vamprry @howling-wolf97

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry edward styles #harry edward style #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x fem!reader

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saiidahyunie · 2 days

Text

chasing that feeling

f1 racer!park jihyo x f!reader

synopsis: jihyo’s on the backend of the competition, and you’re being vocal with your frustrations in one of the few crucial weekends of the season.

tw: smut! ; degrading (kinda) ; praise ; bottom!zyo!! *huh jihyo as a bottom??* ; cursing

btw! this is a prequel/prologue to "pole position"

park jihyo absolutely hates losing. to her, it’s basically the equivalent of not being able to breathe.

it’s embedded in her dna: to keep moving constantly until she physically can’t anymore.

ever since she went to japan with her family as a little kid, stumbling onto the suzuka racetrack as a mere spectator. from that moment on, the thrill of speed and the rush of everything about racing swallowed her up whole.

winning was everything to her, a hard-fought victory that only proved that she was better than everyone else, anything less than that result only made her hungry to bounce back even stronger.

“whatever it takes, you’ve got to see it through.” her team principal sejong tells her after the race weekend at azerbaijan where she had to end the race early after a mechanical problem in her car forced her to retire from the race early. it felt weird for her to not be on the track and on the paddock watching her teammate tzuyu play damage control on the screen replay, faltering behind the other two championship contenders momo and sana in heartbreaking fashion.

she turns over to you standing a few feet behind the decrepit race car, headphones around your neck while jeongyeon and nayeon in tow, giving a wave of encouragement while you gave your girlfriend a heartfelt smile.

after she did all of the usual team debriefings and press responsibilities, she walks out from the back of the garage to meet you, giving a chaste kiss to her cheek and a comforting hug after what had unfolded about an hour and a half ago.

“i’m so sorry baby,” you say, nose in her hair filling up that one sense, “sucks that it had to happen to you like this.”

jihyo pulls away, shaking her head in disagreement, “no need to be sorry. i just got a little bit of unlucky coming my way that’s all.” she says, reassuring with a smile with that sweaty face making you want to pass out on the spot in front of her.

things were gonna be fine in the long run. after all, this was a speed bump on one unfortunate race.

—

jihyo doesn’t usually have strokes of bad luck, and when it happens in back to back weekends, she’s convinced that there’s something fishy going on. there’s this saying that lightning can strike in a bottle twice, but when there’s a third time–

“you alright?” jihyo’s engineer keji asks through the radio, head spinning after crashing out in the barcelona grand prix leading the race up until her brakes locked up at the last sequence of corners on the second to last lap.

“yeah—“ she groans out trying to fight the lingering effects of whiplash she just got hit by, “fuck- i’m sorry, guys. i’m out.”

–her smoking car was a frightening sight to see, mangled into the tire barriers and the pit crew members in front of you were also in shock to watch their racer not finish the race for the fourth consecutive race in a row.

you could see her little helmet shake back and forth in the cockpit in frustration, punching the steering wheel before putting her hands in her face once the realization had slipped in. the camera then pans back to the track where it showed both sana and momo battle it out for the race win, weaving that same section of corners until the main straight where momo had just edged out of sana, taking the grand prix win away as well as the full points.

once the celebrations had gone underway, jihyo didn’t even think about sticking around for her good racing friends, the fact that she’s falling behind in the standings was enough for her to not even look up at the falling champagne and booming music filling her ears. back at the garage, she sees tzuyu standing by her car, walking over to give her an encouraging hug before she steps inside more, locking eyes with you, nayeon, and jeongyeon.

“you think she’s gonna be okay?” jeongyeon whispers in your ear when jihyo is approached by her race engineer, breaking the distant face-off. “this must be really brutal on her, and i’m speaking as a close friend and manager.”

“i think you should have her not look on social media when you two get back at the hotel,” nayeon chirps in, “the fans are gonna absolutely belt her for her recent performances.”

“it’s not even the fact that these things are happening to her,” you say, scowling at the double -yeons behind you. “i think she’s getting a little bit complacent.”

nayeon quirks her brown when you turn around to start making your way out of the paddock, “huh? what do you mean by that?” she asks, picking up your headset and radio in the locker before trailing even more, “hey! i asked a question!”

—

you are one hell of an oversharer.

but hey, jeongyeon was the one who set you up with the park jihyo at last season’s race in abu dhabi, her third year of racing f1 in the books and your last year in f2. it started off as a friendly approach, realizing you and her had the same amount of interests: germaphobes around the house, outrageous activities such as hockey and a few other sports besides racing, watching movies or tv series during off days, and having a really high alcohol tolerance.

once paths crossed, you and jihyo hit it right off the mark. the whole f1 community across all boards took the dating news in a positive regard broke through a candid picture of you two wearing baseball caps backwards on a daytime stroll around germany. jihyo loved your sense of charisma when the cameras were on you during your time with sm vantage - the developmental team under jyp racing during your last stint in the f2 scene.

as for you, how could you not fall in love with jihyo? she’s quick, intelligent, ambitious, always wanting to improve more race after race, year after year. you liked that she’s competitive. her lifestyle was lavish with the cars, planes, clothing but at the same time it was normal, she didn’t bat an eye of her overwhelming success, she knows she’s good, and she has the skill to back that up. the brand deals, the crowd roaring her name when she crosses the line, and that splash of champagne when she’s celebrating her win–

“why the fuck are you showing us this in public!?” nayeon exclaims, hushed by jeongyeon next to her with a flick to the forehead. “what the hell was that for?!”

“because you don’t know how to keep it down!” jeongyeon answers, “it’s just jihyo in the covers with y/n putting on a sweater on the right side of the picture.” she says, and you’re rubbing your forehead at the fact of how gullible nayeon is with things like these. “so? what if you and jihyo have been getting cozy and hooking up more frequently, how is it a bad thing?”

“i’ve been too nice with the reward, and clearly it’s getting to her.”

“you mean.”

“she isn’t focused.”

“and who's fault is that?” nayeon asks abruptly, rolling your eyes, “all of the pictures i’ve seen from the past races either have you two in it or something else.”

“nay, i know.” you tell her, “that’s the problem. you could say i’m one for being horny and all, but she is too.”

the three of you look down at the ground level from the racing team’s designated vip area, you see sejong walk with jihyo and tzuyu, discussing the debrief that they had with the team as well as the conventional heart to heart talk with both drivers. it’s midway into the season, so the points to the team count from here on out, especially in the drivers and constructors championship.

“jeong, when’s the next race again?”

“monaco.”

“shit.”

“what’s wrong with that race?” nayeon inquires yet again, clueless but primed for the reminder.

“it’s one of the two most challenging races of the season. i could delve a whole lot more into it but you’d probably be bored after the first two words that come out of my mouth anyway.”

“you’re right, y/n. but why do i feel scared about it?”

you and jeongyeon share a look from across the table, realizing that this next race weekend was vital for jihyo’s chances of staying within sana and momo’s tail in the driver's standings.

—

race weeks were always something to look forward to. there’s this sparkle of magic buzzing the air every time, traveling to different corners of the world to compete by driving.

there’s nothing like it.

the luxury of being rich, people with deep pockets wearing vip tickets trying to get a peek of the car in the paddock. the superstars that come out to see the peak of motorsport racing, because who doesn’t like cars? coverage, exposure, and upscale is the name of the game in some of these parts. but there’s no denying how beautiful some of the places across the globe are that you have the fortunate opportunity to be alongside jihyo for it.

even when you feel the breeze of the sea flowing through the boat, occasionally bouncing along the wavy surface to the point you might just fly off the seat, letting your laugh be the substitute of the small pit forming in your stomach, before touching back down with the splash of water hitting.

“ji! easy with the freaking boat will ya?!” jeongyeon exclaims, while on top of a face-flat nayeon frantically hitting the pad of the seat to signify that she can’t breathe with the amount of sudden weight on her back. you prop your feet up on the small table in between, hand over the railing like this was a huge accomplishment of winning at life, which it was, sunglasses and everything when you turn to see jihyo at the wheel.

“how long until we reach the bay?” you ask jihyo, her teal v-neck polo with the sleeves rolled up making it much more appealing to look at, the subtle flex of muscle across her forearm when she swings the wheel with one hand seamlessly, sending the boat portside near the coastline of the lovely city of monaco. “we were supposed to be back there ten minutes ago!”

“what are they gonna do, penalize me?” jihyo yells over, “it’s not my fault they put your cousin’s boat on the opposite end of the port or we would’ve been over there already!”

“is tzuyu waiting for us?”

“she’s been waiting over there with nai for thirty minutes.”

eventually, jihyo does make it back to the proper port, greeted by her teammate tzuyu and her race engineer, nai waving to you and the other two-yeons before the boat stops right at the deck. jihyo was the last person to get out, looking up to see you waiting, with an outreaching hand for her to take while you held her favorite tiny north-face backpack that she carries around with her when traveling.

there’s a brief period of silence when you get to the buildings exiting the nearby streets. it’s pretty busy, most of the track was already in place and there were some last minute preparations of the surrounding stands. the hotel was just a couple minutes away, turning to jihyo who was staring out to the endless horizon of the sea and sky. “everything okay?”

jihyo looks back, wide-eyed and blinking. “yeah,” she breathes, tone unsure, “i’m okay.”

you bite the inside of your cheek, brows slightly furrowed together. her answer wasn’t convincing enough, and it’s rare for her to act like this in front of you, which could only spell a sudden wave of anxiety building up. jihyo was headstrong, always thinking about the positives, but she has been feeling a bit uneasy with the amount of criticism that she’s been receiving recently in the media for her recent performances.

“hey,” you call over, pulling her in for a sudden hug that she reciprocates easily, open and inviting. “i know that we had a small disagreement before flying over here, but just remember that i still love you, okay?”

jihyo’s hands are palming your face, your hands around her hips, the small tender moment of reconciliation firmly set in stone. nodding in agreement that you simply stressed about having her succeed even when there were tough times like this, so she doesn’t say anything.

“you’re not gonna go quiet on me, are you?” you ask her again, sliding an arm across her shoulder while you two walked to the nearby accessible street to see a bright orange and black car; jihyo’s favorite rx-7.

she was left surprised to see that you pulled some strings behind her back to have one of her cars brought over here for a couple days, even though this will probably be the only time she’ll actually use it until the summer break, but the effort to cheer her up was there, and you see her smiling.

“why did you–”

“because you’ve been staring at the pictures of your car on the plane before you passed out on me, idiot.”

“i hate you.”

“no you don’t.” you dart back, “you absolutely love me.”

jihyo smirks, opening the passenger side first to the car, “alright, get in.”

—

the trip to the hotel you were staying at was a quick one. everywhere you looked was plastered with racing banners and people on the balconies just taking in the view that will be seeing speeding cars in the next few days or so. you look over to see jihyo lost in thought, tilting her chin up just so that she could see the rear view mirror better, a cute habit of hers really.

once the valet took the car in, jeongyeon was already at the front of the revolving door greeting with a smile. “took you guys long enough, i managed to get everyone’s rooms situated for the weekend.”

“great!” you say to her, “traffic was a small pain to deal with getting here.”

“you weren’t even the one driving.” jihyo chimes in, bumping her elbow to you while rolling her eyes. “what about our bag situation?”

“already sorted out. you’re welcome.”

jihyo nods, darting her eyes towards the hotel lobby past the door as jeongyeon took the lead heading inside. it felt grand, with the marble structure from the flooring to the ceiling, the chandeliers overhanging with small lounge areas spread across and a restaurant off to the right side when walking in. no shortage of guests as they crowded the line at the front desk trying to get their reservations confirmed and into their rooms.

even when jihyo was out in public, she didn’t really make the effort to hide her appearance since at the end of the day, she’s just a regular person over an f1 driver. passing through the main foyer, some people did take notice that she was staying at this hotel, so when one person notices, there’s a small following afterwards.

jihyo was quick to get some autographs on different items; a shirt, a hat, a few tumblers, even a full fledged poster that someone had on hand for some apparent reason, but you couldn’t help but chuckle. jeongyeon being jeongyeon, naturally took charge by standing in front of jihyo, hands up to the sides giving a proper amount of space until the assigned security detail swooped in for extra support.

you three manage to break away from the sizable crowd in the lobby, jihyo fulfilling those last couple of autographs before reaching near the elevators. before you could even get to the waiting area, you get called over by a few journalists that were actually trying to get to jihyo through jeongyeon’s attention. interrupting the racer’s private time wasn’t substantial to these media outlets, but a simple flick or question was good enough to get a story going.

luckily, you had to do half of that work when you answered to one of the journalist’s calls on behalf of your girlfriend.

“hello y/n!” the reporter briefly greets you with a phone in their hand, automatically inferring that they’re doing a voice recording of their exchange with you. it would’ve been a lot more simpler if this was in a designated area and window for these interviews, but nothing ever really goes to plan in life, not even formula one. “i just had a quick moment to ask a question for jihyo, if you don’t mind answering of course.”

“i’d be happy to hear what you’ve got for me to answer with.” you reply optimistically, “let me hear ‘em.”

“the monaco grand prix is one of the greatest trials in any given scenario for a driver, do you see jihyo bouncing back with a win here to get back on track for the running of the championship?”

“ah, well–”

“given her recent performances, would you say that she’s letting herself loose and complacent?” another reporter of the same media outlet asks behind the initial reporter in front of you.

“as one of the closest people in her circle,” you start the answer with a clutch of your arm, “the best that i can do is to ensure that she has the right amount of support from all parties to maximize her ability to compete and win.”

“will the jyp racing team do anything different to—”

“alright!” the arm of jeongyeon butts in between you and the reporter, breaking the conversation suddenly. “i would greatly appreciate it if you could direct any questions towards jihyo to me instead. please respect the driver and their loved ones privacy with the utmost consideration please and thank you.” she announces to the small horde of camera flashes and phones in the air wanting to get an inkling of information out of you for jihyo. jeongyeon turns her head and nods over to the open elevator door at the end, a security guard holding it for you specifically, so you breeze over to see jihyo leaning against the side railing of the elevator before the door closes behind you and ascends up.

jihyo scratches her head before sighing out in a sign of tiredness, closing her eyes at the end. “so, what did they say about me this time?”

“nothing out of the ordinary.” you reply. “they’re still on about your sudden slump from the past few races, but i didn’t give them any more than your current struggles.”

jihyo then runs her hand down her face in a slight bit of frustration, she feels the immense pressure of not being able to deliver for the team and herself as a driver, it’s clearly shown that it’s taking a toll on her, and something has to change this upcoming race weekend before everything starts to take a turn for the worse. “this sucks,” she says now looking up to the ceiling, “this is the worst run of luck i’ve ever had in my career.”

standing on the opposite end, you make your way across to her, clutching her left shoulder while your other hand is placed flat on the wall. the elevator space feels full, despite being small with the close proximity.

“why don’t you tell me directly why you’ve been performing badly, hmm?” you ask jihyo, face being dangerously close to the point where jihyo could feel the heat from her cheeks rise up to fill the air. “it’s definitely not your skill set, nor the car, or the team, is it?”

“y/n, what are you say—”

“you’ve been taking our fucking a little more lightly these past few races, almost comfortable with the luxury that you’re guaranteed to ruin me.”

jihyo stares into your eyes, the look of worry wrenching it’s way through while you smirk victoriously, realizing that the prior disagreement from before was still the apparent case.

"so that’s what it is then.”

you don’t even give jihyo the chance to even argue, because it’s true.

“what the fuck are you even saying?!” jihyo asks, faltering behind in the hallway to the hotel room and into the suite. you don’t even reply to the initial question jihyo asked because you know how you like her when she gets the slightest bit of frustration in her tone. “i swear it’s not that, but—”

“you say that, but do you hear yourself right now?” you snicker, “it’s hilarious how you’re trying to reason with me but the fact still stands: you just want to get between my legs after every race since we started.”

“yes, and—”

“no.”

“no?”

“i mean, the public doesn’t know how sexually charged you are, but i can see that it’s affecting you right in front of me.” you tell jihyo, discarding your shirt with your bra following the ground as well, pushing jihyo to the bed where she falls flat on her back, you can hear her breath hitch with the neural overload she’s having from her eyes and the touch. jihyo naturally lets a hand float up, but you’re quick to slap her hand away before pinning it on the mattress.

“you can watch, but you can’t touch.” you sigh against her ear, “the only you can get me back is by—” jihyo lets her eyes flutter shut but automatically shoots open when you rise up from on top of her, jihyo confused as she propped herself up on her elbows to see you walking to the bathroom while tying your hair up.

“y/n, what are you—”

“if you want me to return the favor, i better see you on that podium at the end of race day.” you tell her, it’s not an offer, a command, because she’ll do it, jihyo will always deliver if something is put on the line. “not from third or second, i want to see you win from first.”

a lump forms in jihyo’s throat, sucking in the saliva from her mouth when she’s eyeing the subtle back tattoo on your shoulder blade, as well as the hidden design of small stars behind your right ear on your neck. jihyo knows what she needs to do, she has a reason to win.

whatever it takes, i’ve got to see it through. jihyo thinks to herself.

she can feel the desire to win on the tips of her fingers.

—

two days pass of free practice and it’s pretty much a blur for jihyo. the standard routine of going over the briefing and the set strategy set with the team, coming to grips with the car and the new upgrades that come with it. you’re watching on the screen as she seems to have reverted back to her normal self. she’s hitting all of the corners and turns with the fine precision that she can produce, and monaco is no easy track to race on.

once the three practice sessions were done, you’re deep in the paddock while the pit crew rolls the car back in, jihyo taking off her gloves and getting out of the car before pulling her balaclava off her face, already giving her opinion with how the car felt and everything in between. she sees you and jeongyeon in the distance, nodding before leaving the garage to get more necessary checks before the debrief.

jeongyeon pulls her headset off from her ears, “i suppose you did something about her little ‘issue’?” she asks, prompting you to follow her to the back entrance and into the restricted area behind.

“yeah,” you answer dismissively, “and what about it?”

“nothing,” jeongyeon follows, “she just seems a bit more focused now than before.”

“maybe i did.”

“oh have you, now?”

—

qualifying was the day after, and jihyo managed to get adequate hours of sleep before the wave of nervousness could settle in her body again. she got up early in the morning while you were knocked out, conjuring up a quick cup of coffee with the items provided from the hotel’s set hospitality package on the table next to the tv. stepping out to the balcony, she oversees the bustling atmosphere below at ground level.

her mind was calm, and she felt excited for another outing on the race track in the next few hours. there was no rush, but taking it easy didn’t feel much of a bad thing. she needed this, and before jihyo knew it, she turned around to see you already up on the bed.

morning preparation before the race went a little bit smoothly. drivers didn’t have to show up for another hour and a half, so jihyo took her sweet time in getting ready, not opting to shower until you went in first before her, so you did. while that was happening, jihyo hears her phone go off on the coffee table, picking it up to see that jeongyeon’s name came up on the screen. without a second thought, she picks up the phone, “hey jeong, what’s up?”

“is my racer ready for today’s quali session?” she asks through the speaker that makes jihyo chuckle when she plops on the couch, bunching up her legs on the cushion against the armrest.

“yes, i’m feeling pretty good about today. why’d you call?”

“just checking in on you.” jeongyeon answers, “you were pretty down in the dumps before the FP sessions so i didn’t want to assume that something was up? there isn’t, right?”

“no,” jihyo stops jeongyeon. “whatever it is that you’re thinking, it’s not the case.” she says. while that was happening, you walk out in a simple white tank-top with black underwear that exposed your toned body towards her, earning a puzzled look from jihyo to see that you left your pair of pants on the edge of the bed. “i know you’re not calling me just to do a checkup, did something else happen that i should know about?”

“is that jeong on the phone?” you interrupt with a lowered tone, noticing that jihyo was on speaker before she gave a simple look that makes you nod in realization.

“jeong,” jihyo begins again, “did you mess with the press behind my back?”

“i didn’t. but they kept pressing me about your poor performances so it was a bit difficult to deal with.” jeongyeon replies with disinterest to the question, “god, i hate journalists with a passion sometimes.”

“me too,” jihyo adds, “i just want to race, but i can’t help with the headaches i get when they ask me stupid questions about the simplest things”

you walk over to jihyo, leaning down to meet her lips when she looks up from the couch, a bit surprised from the sudden action and contact of your lips, closing one eye with a smirk while jihyo pulls the phone away from her face more. “what are y–”

jihyo then hears some background noise on jeongyeon’s end of the call, giving an indication that she’s near the track with the team, most likely with tzuyu who wanted to be ahead in the scheduling. “how busy is it down there?”

“very. typical monaco for a race weekend. nothing more or less to expect.” jenogyeon’s voice is drowned out by more voices. “when are you making your way down to the garage?”

your hands suddenly slide up jihyo’s cropped undershirt, causing her breath to hitch from the roughness of fingers skating along her fair skin, stopping just underneath the breasts to cup them, leaning for another kiss to put another push.

“i’ll be there in an hour,” jihyo answers, seeing that you’re trailing your way down to the edge of the seat, bringing her legs down from their folded position and slightly apart, “give or take thirty or so minutes.” her mind starts to wander with the feeling of her breasts on your hands, kissing her inner thigh close to the knee before trailing up.

“wasn’t sejong supposed to call you for a minute? i overheard something before you two got set up for fp3?” the questions keep on coming from jeongyeon, and jihyo is wondering if she’s also one of the annoying reporters asking the stupid questions.

“yeah,” jihyo’s breath catches when she feels your hands slide off her red shorts before she sees the garment tossed away to the bed, the warm air hot against the line of her thigh. “i had talked to her beforehand, just a short heart-to-heart like she always does with us before races.” she huffs out when you skate your thumb lightly on her clit sealing your mouth off to the side of her soaked slit.

“shit, am i supposed to go now?” jeongyeon asks again, and jihyo can’t think straight the second after she switched her phone to speaker, phone cast aside next to her, “i was supposed to meet up with tzuyu, but she’s already here ahead of you, which means that she’s eager to get going.”

“uh-huh,” jihyo says, letting a half-moan spill out accidentally but not audible enough for jeongyeon to hear through the phone. she picks up her tossed device, hoping to keep her mind off of you lashing your tongue against her cunt, savoring that leak slick some more when jihyo has her hand on the back of your head. “it’s because of the data that they collected the other day from practice, and the adjustment of the car they did with her rear wing.”

jihyo’s fingers grasp deeply against your scalp, her head falling back against the couch, mouth hanging low and breath getting heavier as you insert a finger inside that makes her eyes roll upwards. she’s supposed to be focused on the race, but how could she focus when you’re sucking the very life out of her on the morning of qualifying day?

“well, you better get here in the next hour. more drivers are coming in by the minute. momo!” jeongyeon says clearly into the phone now, “i’ll get going now, see you down in the garage.” and hangs up the second after.

jihyo looks down to the sight of you locking eyes with her, hungry with want, need, hunger, everything that’s within the margins of the word ‘craving, lapping up her slutty cunt as you please when you hear the overdue soundtrack of her hushed out moans finally being let out.

“fuck,” she groans out. “seriously, fuck you.”

you pull away, licking your upper lip before breaking a smile. contemplating on saying something to her that can ease jihyo’s mind of the image of you between her legs like this, but-

“you’re so cute,” you coo. “trying to stay professional with your manager while i’m fucking you this early?”

–jihyo’s gonna curse you for putting on this act, but the motivation is clearly there for her after last night’s conversation.

“mine, mine, mine, all mine.” you tell her, breath hot against her pussy and jihyo tries to say something coherent, but it’s all slurred and sloppy just when your tongue is swirling inside her core again.

“whatever, okay-uh-shit, you’re so fucking good at that.” and you’re grinding her cunt against your mouth, the room filling up with all of the bits of whining, gasping pleas the more you soak your face into her.

jihyo guides your free hand from the crease of her hip up to her breast, grasping it for dear life when she hitches the ball of her foot on top of your collarbone. “my–fuck, babe, just like that, you’re gonna fucking kill me like this.”

she’s jerking her hips against the sensation, the swipe of your tongue all over the molten heat of her pussy and the shoving of your two fingers right under your mouth, curling a finger to that spot that made her see the light for a split second before being brought back to earth.

“y/n, my god, you–”

the increase of moans only get louder when jihyo’s legs press your head, enveloping you like it’s the only oxygen needed in your life, and in a way, it is. right when jihyo’s eyes roll back into her head, the abrupt sound of her phone rings, and the movement comes to a solid stillness.

jihyo is immediately flushed when she pulls her head back from euphoria, the satiating ache of your mouth the only thing in her mind when you take your fingers out of her, hiding your bottom lip while your tongue licks off the rest. “you gonna answer that?”

as if it was a cardinal sin that you just committed, jihyo digs her head back into the cushions, closing her legs when you stand up and go on with your morning, successfully taking advantage of jihyo when she least expected it.

“you’re the worst.” she tells you, the sight of slipping into your pants for the day before looking back at her on the couch sitting up now. “i can’t believe-”

the phone is still ringing, and jihyo looks over to see sejong’s contact name on the screen. she won’t answer, it’s pointless since it’ll be the same stuff that she was told the other day.

so, she doesn’t pick up the phone. only solidifying your method to get her straight already working.

“might as well get ready now, you’ve got a long weekend ahead of you.”

—

few hours passed of preparation and once all of the routine checks around the car were good, jihyo got the signal and rolled out onto the track, completely in race mode getting some good laps on the track for qualifying.

the first two qualifying sessions went smoother than the team initially anticipated, flying with the pace to get the set fastest time within the top five racers left in q3. you see the list of the final racers on the top left of the screen in jihyo, sana, momo, tzuyu, and a surprise appearance of somi from bb block racing.

“alright jihyo,” her race engineer, keji, comes in through the radio, “good outlap, let’s get a gap going, five seconds out, and let’s set the bar with this first lap.”

“copy.” jihyo replies through with her foot to the floor on the main straight, dive bombing into turn one. she’s all too familiar with the iconic street circuit as it is; an okay performance in her first year finishing p11, a dnf after oversteering the nouvelle chicane, and last season where she improved a lot by finishing just outside the podium. jihyo knows that she’s fast when she clears the first and second sectors, but just manages to get the benchmark time to 1:12.141 to start things off.

“okay, so p1 at the moment, you’ve got both minatozaki and hirai both pushing up half a tenth. chou is also behind by more than half a second.” keji relays the information to jihyo while she hikes up beau rivage. “let’s keep this 10 second gap, and recharge on before we go again.”

“i can definitely push more than this,” jihyo says, “the car is nearly getting there.” she knows that she can get more out of it, and there’s still a good amount of time to get the car to perform perfectly.

the next seven minutes would see a trade off of sana getting pole, somi surprised the entire broadcast with a gauntlet time of 1:11.513 putting her p2. tzuyu couldn’t get her time to improve, so she stays in fourth. while that was happening, you watch the screen with jeongyeon back at the paddock as momo bumps sana’s time down to take pole away from her with a surprise time of 1:11.449 with two purple first and second sectores reflecting the time as the session neared its end.

“track is all yours park,” keji breaks through on the radio again before jihyo starts her final lap of the day, “make this lap count, all eyes are on you.”

jihyo got straight to business again, speeding down the corners and gliding with so much ease. the car itself can handle it, like it can literally do everything that jihyo wanted it to. pace felt amazing, and right when jihyo got around the annoying hairpin curve before reaching the tunnel, she knew that this lap was hers. gambling in the last sector before getting back on the main straight, literally wallriding her way to the finish line and once she crossed it, confusion and bliss plagued her mind.

“do we have it?” she asks on the radio, “tell me we have it!”

it all happened in a flash on the official broadcast, the glide of her car so instant that when jihyo crossed the line, the whole garage erupted when they saw the final time for qualifying: 1:11.267. nearly two hundredths faster than momo, celebrating with a clenched fist and a smile while jeongyeon clapped her hands together while shaking her head in disbelief.

“that’s pole position,” keji confirms. “don’t forget about slow mode by the way.”

“ha! had to pull that one out of my ass, but very very good today guys. well done.” jihyo chuckles and congratulates the team on the radio, but the job was merely halfway done.

—

another period of sleep passes, and jihyo’s on the track just minutes before the race starts. you’re watching the offical broadcast on the side of the garage, the camera cutting to a few notable celebrities that were in attendance: you, (because on the side you had a personality on the internet that the whole community adores and loves) mina, who was apart of the famous myoui family that had a stake of ownership in sana and momo’s racing team, tozaki motorsport, and as well as famous dj chaeyoung also coming out from performing prior to the race.

jihyo can’t help but feel nervous, knowing what’s at stake here if things do go south, but she’s smart enough to not think about that. the only thing that matters is to be in first, and to stay there.

“radio check?” keji asks once the pit crew members start to grab their things and break away from the grid.

“radio is good.” jihyo answers, fixing up her gloves before setting the dials on her wheel to the preferred setting as instructed.

one formation lap later and time seems to slow down once jihyo got into track position at the start. heartbeat thumping a lot more frantically, but her breathing helps calm it down only just a bit.

“focus on the lights.” keji instructs, and jihyo stares at the set just hanging above her. those five red lights emitting one by one, and then–

go.

right when the cars start to roll along the track, you can’t help but to smile at yourself in the manner of place that you’re in, same goes for jihyo. she’s chasing right at the beginning, hunting for that needed win. she’ll get it, because you’ll know that she won’t let go of first place. not for momo, not for sana, not even for tzuyu, she wants this more than any of the 19 drivers combined.

she’s running away with it, and everyone else is just trailing behind her.

it wouldn’t be until after the first 10 laps where they’d be an incident on the track caused by kazuha after colliding with somi, bunching up the pack under the safety car. you can’t help but look confused to see to see the pit crew members scramble about the garage, preparing for a change with the car.

“alright jihyo we’re gonna box this lap,” keji says on the radio, “safety car is in, so box now, box.” jihyo complies by pressing the ‘confirm’ button to pit before turning into the entrance of the pit lane. momo, sana, and tzuyu all do the same to take the chance during this window.

“wait, kej are we double stacking?” jihyo asks on the radio before turning into the designated area of their garage.

“we are double stacking,” keji answers, “we are also putting mediums over hards, hoping that they’ll do you some good over the first set of softs.”

“uh, are you sure about this?” jihyo asks again, rolling out of the pit lane under the limiter before accelerating out onto the main track.

“we should be okay for now, but i’ll brief you if there’s any changes.” keji updates one last time before the channel goes silent, and jihyo picks up her speed just a bit behind the safety car before the race could resume again.

the next few thirty to forty laps or so go smoothly between the alternating camera switches between the racers and the view of the track in that one area where it’s parked by yachts. you’re watching the list of drivers off to the left side of the broadcast to see that there were hardly any change of positions between the pack, but one thing that’s scratching your head was the small gap that momo had on jihyo, sana wasn’t too far behind momo also, which has you a little bit worrying.

“why is jihyo going a little bit slower than usual? is that just me?” jeongyeon asks you while you’re squinting to see what the problem is, and then it hits you.

“they fucked up the strategy with her.” you say, rubbing your eyes when the broadcast mentions that jihyo’s tires were only supposed to last about fifty laps or more, and it’s on the 61st lap of the race. “she should’ve been on the hard tires at the swap.”

“how did they do that?”

boo-di-boop, the iconic sound of the radio comes in on the broadcast with jihyo’s racing picture, and the motor is heard in the background of her microphone.

“kej, i can’t keep the car behind like this. my tires are dead.” you hear her say on the radio as she starts the next lap. “we’re gonna lose this race at this point if she keeps this up.”

“understood jihyo, just be aware of the pace that you’re going should be enough to keep up with the cars ahead.” keji replies on the radio channel as the camera panned to jihyo taking another move into the chicane towards the tunnel again.

“i can’t keep the car behind, keji!” jihyo exclaims in desperation while gripping the wheel, hitting another left curve on the track. “i can’t keep my focus on the tires if hirai is breathing on my ass!”

“copy, just maintain your heading.” keji answers back before she closes off the radio channel again.

your face is in your hands when you hear the commentator say that this was the ultimate challenge for jihyo who’s on the cusp of losing her first palace to momo just a few milliseconds behind, the front of her car just gaining on hers as the laps continue to pass.

jeongyeon can’t even look at the screen either, but she still watches as the conversational atmosphere in the garage kept everyone on the edge of their seats for what felt like an eternity.

“8 laps, 8 laps to go. we are on 70.” keji tells jihyo again to update her. she looks over to her front left tire that looks completely thrashed against the asphalt, glancing at her rear view mirror to see momo’s car just inching behind after her challenge in the second to last corner before the new lap.

“i don’t know what you guys were thinking when you gave me these tires, guys.” jihyo huffs out, the exhaustion getting to her given the heat of the car making her sweat a lot more. “you guys better pray for a miracle out of me.”

“understood jihyo, i’ll update you when we’re at four.” keji replies before giving her more space to concentrate.

jihyo knows the struggle so well, but she can’t get frustrated yet, not now. even when the car is a literal furnace nearing the end of this race, she’s willing to go all the way. four more laps pass, then three, then two, and finally–

“last lap, i’ll leave you to it.”

–the last comm from keji to let jihyo work her element, breezing past the corners so well, defending with her life against momo who was just less than 0.1 seconds behind. she’s in the last sector, past the pit lane entrance, you see the pit crew members scramble out to the crash fence near the start of the track, once they saw the glide of jihyo’s red car zoom past the checkered flag, jihyo let out a sigh of relief while you clenched both of your fists, smiling at the screen so stupidly.

—

jihyo doesn’t remember celebrating the trophy lift on top of the first place podium, conversing and talking with a whole wave of people congratulating with her on the race win, talking with momo and sana in the cooldown room and catching up with the all of the stuff in between the race. momo specifically gave her flowers and praise for going with the medium tires for nearly the entire race. it’s all a blur to her.

what she does remember, however–

is the whimper she lets out in your mouth when you pin her against the wall of the elevator, going back up to the hotel suite. she’s smiling against your lips when your hands are roaming her sweaty body, licking her clean and raising a leg up for you to press your thigh against her clothed core.

“mm” is what leaves your lips when you press more against jihyo’s face, tugging her bottom lip before soothing it with a lave of your tongue soon after. jihyo has her own initiative to this, like she deserved it and in which, she has. but you remind her again when you pinch the side of her waist that makes her gasp for air suddenly with a hand at your chest.

“babe,” she barely utters out from the unracked breathing, willing to fold and be sculpted in the ways you want her to be for you. “please, i–”

“what is it, sweetie?” you ask her, landing another stolen kiss that she receives beautifully, overwhelmed and having her lingering for more. jihyo can’t think straight when you’re the one leading a heated intimate moment like this, it’s unfamiliar - much added onto the fact that she lost about a good 3-4 pounds from the race which made her loopy due to the lack of blood flow in her brain. “i’m here, you can always tell me what’s going on.”

jihyo melts when you land the flat of your palm on her right cheek, like a dog with it’s owner asking for attention, she’s quick hum from the contact on your hand, eyes filled with constellations that look like dying stars, “baby, please…”

“please what, hm?”

she pouts, foot stomping on the floor with a low swinging fist. she’s having a temper tantrum like a kid. “you need to–”

“need me to do something?” you tell her, hand hiking up the inside of her leg, once tattered with scratches and marks left to fade away with the constant of time only for them to appear again. she’s mumbling, speaking nonsense when your fingertips tuck inside her pants with the fancy trick of unbuttoning them with just a hand. “you have to be a little bit more clear for me this time girlie. i can’t really hear what you’re saying if you’re gonna be acting all shy now.”

“i’m gonna go insane if you don’t…keep going…” jihyo mumbles, eyes to the ground, hand in yours while you close the distance again. instead of landing a kiss on her chin, you let your lips just float over her neck while she tries to collect her thoughts.

“with what, honey?”

“your hands…your lips…i’m gonna-i’m gonna go fucking insane if you don’t touch me right now.”

“yeah, i thought so.” is what comes out of your mouth. and with perfect timing, the elevator dings, opening the door out to the hallway, grabbing her hand and briskly making a break back to the suite.

the door opens quickly as it closes, followed by the shuffling of shoes being taken off and jihyo’s back is against the wall again. you’re cupping her face in your hands, running a thumb over her lips before diving back for another kiss. she jumps the gun when her hands fling forward towards your sweater, eager to rip it off; you can’t help but chuckle at how jihyo was in the span of a few days.

your hands find her wrists, putting them against the drywall. “you’re so cute like this.” you mumble out, lifting jihyo’s chin slightly to drink in the sight of her flushed cheeks, the small parting between her lips, and the irresistible look she’s leaving you with. “my beautiful girl. you did a great job today.”

“huh?” jihyo flushes more when you strip off the cotton blend of your sweater, leaving your body, unclasping your bra soon after. she can’t process the events that are happening and before she knows it, your lips were on her neck again, sucking harshly.

“hnn,” is the only thing jihyo manages to say, feeling her clothes being dragged away. the jacket, the undershirt, the bra, leaving her tits exposed out for the space to be filled in. jihyo squirms when your mouth starts to sweep from her neck down to her chest, gripping your hips when your tongue hits the bud of her nipple, lightly biting it just to test the waters. “my god..shit.”

a cry cuts through when you slide her further up the bed, taking the unbuttoned pants that you opened back in the elevator off her legs. the drag, that little delay of friction with your movements. jihyo presses her legs together to calm the needy ache that her core needs when her panties are the last thing that comes off, completely naked now for you to ruin her.

“my baby needs to be cleaned up after a long race, no?”

“fuck–”

“speak up, princess.”

“do your worst.” and the snort that comes up is interchanged with what she says next. “go ahead, put your hands all over me, grab my neck if you want, split me apart like nothing else matters.”

this was a different way to get things around, but when you part her legs to see those glistening lips, you can’t help but bite your lip at the sight. it’s funny how jihyo shivers just a bit when you slide down the same way you did the other morning while she was on the phone with jeongyeon, but now with no more outside interruptions, you could gladly take your time with her, or not.

either way, she’s gonna be begging for more at this second.

“are you sure?” you ask her. “does my pretty driver deserve this reward for putting up with my shit last time?”

“yes,” jihyo groans out when you stick your tongue out the inside of her leg, moving up. “fuck yes, please. y/n–mmn.”

you mutter something, or it could’ve been a hushed growl of some sort, no matter. when your tongue slides up her leaking entrance, the sigh of relief for jihyo to be used like this, it all seems paid off in a way. she deserves this, driven beyond horny that not even the others could properly explain.

jihyo can’t function at all. the way your tongue flattens out entirely, chest open to the air and head sinking back into the satin pillowcases. she’s pressing her hands over your head before you divert them to the mattress, biting harshly on her clit that makes it stretch out away from her body, even if it was about a centimeter or two.

“hnn–no, bab–i need your–”

“shh,” kissing her sweaty abs, hips bucking when you cup her pussy just slightly from the twinge of overstimulation. “i know, don’t worry. i’m gonna treat you right this time, and you’ll be thanking me later.”

you could hear her whimper when you dive headfirst again.

fucking her dumb was the point in all of this, ears filled up the brim of her constant babbling of how much you’re taking care of her. she’s exhausted from the race, yes. but with how you prompted her to be splitting her insides apart with your fingers, she could go for more, and she will.

“fuck–my–bab–god—” jihyo mumbles out, and she’s trembling. she’s on another echelon past cloud nine, and this feeling of being the one to receive rather than give is completely new to her. your eyes perk up to see her head tossing and turning, losing focus slightly when she looks down to see you become cross-eyed, drunk on the scent of sex filling your senses.

“please-please-please-please-please, you’re gonna make me–ngh!”

it’s hot, messy, the molten core of it all enough to burn right through you when she cums. jihyo feels a few streams of tears fall from her cheeks, sobbing uncontrollably when you fuck her through her orgasm. her legs close around your head tightly, toes curling inward to the point that they actually look like fists. you eventually pull away, towering over her, milking the sight of her flustered face, heavy breathing, the small shake you see in her shoulders.

you lick your fingers in front of her, and jihyo just bites her lip in anticipation. “so good, always.” you tell her and she sighs. “i hope you’re ready for more.”

jihyo nods.

the way that she’s sprawled, pliable, like a lump of clay in your hands, she’s liquid enough for you to mold and twist in every way that you can. going for another kiss, your hands are quick to find her breasts. you shift slightly to put your knee between jihyo’s cunt, making her yelp lightly against your teeth.

resting your head on hers, she stops for a quick breath, “i’m getting dizzy…” jihyo mutters, pulling you in for another kiss like her life depended on it. this was the best version of jihyo you ever got out of her.

you pull away, kneading her breast before skating down to the side of her waist, dipping down for another mark left on her neck. she’ll be able to wash the sweat away, but you kinda feel bad for the concealer box that’s sitting on the vanity. the buttery smooth glide of your fingers against her slit makes the air coming from her lungs stop at the bottom of her throat.

“need me some more?”

“y-yes baby.”

“how bad do you need this?” you ask her again, sucking harshly on the firm collarbone that makes jihyo chuckle turned into another throaty moan.

“very bad, just please–put it in already.”

shaking your head, it’s amazing how she can be competent one part of the day to cracking under the fault of your touch. “what my driver needs.” and you slip two fingers in her walls. she’s so fucking slick for it, it’s unreal.

taking it easy isn’t the right route no more, so you push. pounding, keeping pace while your mouth is working her chest again. jihyo is a mess, it’s getting hectic. her moans are like a siren calling out in the sea late at night, urging you to throw all rationality out the window, to fuck this woman to the brink of oblivion.

jihyo knows you’re good at what you do, “god, my beautiful sweetheart. all fucked good because you won the race again. this is what happens when you come in first.”

literally.

the angle isn’t optimal, so you raise her leg up. jihyo flips the pillow over her head, putting her face near the headboard of the bed, and you continue to let your hand get caught in the tornado of slick between skin-on-skin. the moans themselves are so loud enough that you might as well open the window for the whole world to hear.

you’re pulling her apart, jihyo isn’t even crying anymore. she’s gone quiet, eyes rolled back while her singular foot is just dangling up in the air. she’s tense one second, then loose the next. her hand grips the bedsheets on instinct, and she’s slurring her words by the beat of your heart.

“more,” the girl with her body mangled on the bed by you says, complaining, and that’s your cue to really fuck her brains out.

“c-c-clo–i-babe-i can’t-”

“close?”

jihyo just nods, mouth hanging open in pure unraveling.

“so fucking pretty.” you tell her, dipping for a passionate kiss, your left arm swooping under the arch of her back while the other is preoccupied with the relentless stroke of your hand inside her. you let your face float over hers when the slightest curl of your knuckles sends her over the edge, and she clenches your fingers with her walls.

the pace slows down, and you slide your fingers out, placing jihyo’s own essence for her to taste. christ, it’s a fucking sight for you, the wave of lust fading away and everything is goes back to normal when you see jihyo’s sleepy smile break through. your body just tumbles over onto her, wrapping your arms around her chest, lightly squeezing from behind, but careful enough to not overdo it. some minutes pass and jihyo turns her head to meet your eyes.

you’re locked in a small staring contest before she leans for a lazy kiss on the bottom of your chin. it’s calming in each other’s embrace before falling asleep just seconds after.

—

post race mornings are always slow, and jihyo wakes up to see you sitting up already ahead of the expected routine. she shuffles over to kiss your shoulder before resting against your body some more, the drowsiness still present in her mind.

“you look awful.” you tell her, and jihyo just grumbles with a lose hand hitting your leg over the covers. “i take it that you finally got your priorities straight.”

“only because you had to make me think about you over racing, but i’m sorry.”

“don’t be, it looked like you enjoyed that race yesterday.”

silence fills up the room again before jihyo rubs her eyes and stretches before she sighs, and you can feel a question coming up in her brain. “y/n.”

you hum, turning over to see the cover drop down to her waist, showing the marked chest and line of hickeys all over her neck. smiling, you let your head fall forward to hide the blush coming through your cheeks with the amount of work you did all over jihyo. “what’s up, ji?”

jihyo reaches over the pile of her tossed pants to pick up her phone, scrolling to see the numbers of notifications that she had ignored from the day before, reading all of the previewed messages from everyone that she could see in a blink or two.

“was it really necessary to get me fucked while i was on the phone with jeong yesterday?”

you don’t even answer that question.

#hyunie #twice x reader #kpop x reader #kpop smut #twice smut #park jihyo #twice jihyo #jihyo smut #jihyo x reader

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saintescuderia · 3 days

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pancakes (pt. 6)

AKA - the story of how the naive australian rookie befriended the gym junkie F1 hospitality worker with the shoe collection - and inadvertently broke the grid's most treasured and unspoken rule: you don't go for y/n.

series masterlist here :) / antinal reference ;)

A/N: to make up for being MIA (and that this sunday might be another miss) here's a double update. enjoy.

P6 - pre-workout for jet-lag

You still found it odd to call Australia home.

You had mixed feelings about the country stamped across the front page of your passport. Your auntie had been the one to organise the papers so that Australian would be your identification. Never mind the hospital bed in Monaco that you were birthed. Or that you were first words were in Arabic.

Still, your travelling auntie’s own experiences meant that when you came into her care, she would raise you Australian. Never mind any of the other stuff.

So, when you walked into the house in Melbourne, you were met with an Egyptian lady playing French music, dressed in a Korean football jersey, cooking Greek food. Such was the life of a nomadic English teacher that was your aunt Nadia. Dia for short.

“Ah, it's you." She sat, spying you hauling the suitcase through the door. She looked at the clock by the fridge and then frowned. "You weren't supposed to land yet."

"I landed an hour ago." You said. She looked at the clock again and took it off the fridge. She banged it with one hand and then shook her head, muttering under breath.

"I'm sorry. Did you take an Uber?"

"No. Oscar gave me a lift." Well, technically his father had driven the car.

Oscar’s parents were apparently super excited to meet you and gushed all through the way about how glad they were that their son had you to help him through F1. They had even insisted on dinner but Oscar knew you had stayed up - you had made him do the same thing as you - and thankfully postponed it for a breakfast tomorrow after you both got to finally got to sleep.

Upon leaving Jeddah, you had looked at the flight times and decided to overdose the 400mg of pre-workout and strategically placeyour workout just before leaving the hotel so that you and Oscar could both avoid the jet-lag many other F1 personnel were struggling with.

So far, it was on track to working. You just needed to push through a few more hours. To do so, Oscar was going to watch the footy. You were going to watch football.

“Ah, this young Oscar." Your aunt was nodding. "I like him. He has a trusting face.” She laughed at you, doing nothing to help but continue to watch you clamber into the well-loved and mis-matched dining furniture in her kitchen. “You hungry?”

“Tired.” You said, checking the time. It was 5pm but you were ready to knock out. Just a few more hours. You willed yourself to push through and avoid the jet-lag.

“Did you eat?”

You hadn’t. You never ate airplane food.

The silence was answer enough as your auntie plated up some gyros for you. The smells of the seasoned meat filled your nose and your stomach rumbled at the site of it. You picked up your fork, ignoring the bread for the sake of your cut but helping yourself to tzatziki.

"What's with the Korean jersey." You couldn't help but ask. You watched your auntie's back with CHO GUE-SUNG.

"Oh, he's such a handsome man. So polite too. I met him when I was teaching abroad in Seoul."

You opened your mouth but closed it. Your auntie lived a very unbelievable life at the best of times.

"He was nice. Nice face. Good hair. You should date him." Dia said as if she was commenting about the weather and you rolled your eyes, chewing through the food. She gave you a look. "Better a footballer than a driver."

You gave her a look. She never did like Danny. Much less you two together.

"Speaking of footballers, your uncle called. Went on and on in Italian about how your talents are wasted with cars and you should come to a real sport."

You snorted hearing this. Your uncle's work in football (not soccer, football) and your line of expertise had some people baffled that you hadn't joined him. Only the select few who knew your mother understood just why that was.

Still, every month your uncle sighed at the wasted talent! that you, a world class performance trainer! was stuck making coffee! for some fancy drivers!

Save that your uncle would add in a few choice Italian expletives in the mix.

"So, the usual?" You concluded.

"The usual." Dia nodded. She came to sit down in front of you. Pulling out her phone, she began showing you pictures of her recent teaching stint in South Korea. Your aunt had been there for about six months, working at an international school. And befriending Korean football players apparently.

“I thought you were teaching in Paris.” You said between mouthfuls of seasoned meat.

“That was before.” Dia waved a dismissive hand. She dropped her phone and then stood up to pull out two wine glasses. Your aunt gave you a look and you shook your head. She put one back with a roll of her eye. “Wine is good for you.”

“I’m already taking resveratrol.” You said. “And I’m on a cut.”

“That’s why no bread.” Dialooked down at the plate full of untouched pita bread. She was well aware of your health habits. “Actually, I went to Egypt recently! Ah!” She went to the cupboard above the microwave and pulled out a shoebox full of small boxes. You knew immediately what it was. Bringing the shoebox to the table, Dia began pulling out various medicines she had brought from Egypt.

“You will need this for your travels.”

“I have all of this.”

“Do you have Antinal?”

“Yes.”

“Take some extra." Dia still pushed it to you. "Give it to Charles.”

“I don’t speak to Charles.” You said.

Your aunt huffed and looked up at the ceiling, calling to God. “Ya rab. This fight with Charles needs to stop. Pascale and I are sick of it.” You didn’t comment any further on it. It was, admittedly, quite hard when there were so many other people involved. Pascale and Nadia were best friends. It was how you and Charles had grown up so close. The fact that you were family friends made it hard since Charles had pretty much cut you off. Granted, he was polite and you knew he still greeted your aunt Dia with a kiss on each cheek every time she’d visited Monaco. But still.

“I will give them to Charles.” She said, taking a box back.

“You do that.” You said as she still pushed one boxes of the yellow medicine in front of you. “Dia, I already have this.”

“For Oscar. Yallah.”

“Anti-diarrhoea pills?"

"Oi, mate. You better be grateful. That shit's a miracle." You said, dropping the yellow box in Oscar's hands as you both walked down the Paddock. You had checked your phone this morning to the beautiful news that you would be working for McLaren today. You texted Oscar the news and the next day he had your coffee order ready in the cupholder of the car he picked up you up in.

It didn't feel odd. It should've, but it didn't. Maybe it was because you and Oscar had already spent the most of the morning together. You had breakfast with his parents - his dad taking a moment to quietly pull you aside to say thank you for supporting Oscar - and then hit a gym sesh.

In fact, you almost forgot that you and Oscar was supposed to be working in different domains until you both had to get dressed and found him waiting for you outside the Paddock dressed in shorts, a McLaren t-shirt and accompanying brand cap.

It made you look down at your black Hospitality wear and wonder just how things would go if you were wearing the same clothes as him.

Well, for one thing, you would have to wear those ugly ass shoes. You looked down at your feet clad in some Nike Cortez and tried to take that as consolation. You weren't dressed in team uniform but at least that meant you had your shoes.

Still, the oddity of seeing a driver openly interact with the Hospitality staff turned some head as you walked down the Paddock together. You were half tempted to tell Oscar to go ahead but it didn't make sense. You were both going to the same place - the McLaren motorhome.

Oscar, however, was barely paying attention to any of this. No, his attention was still stuck on the medicine you had given him.

"Why do I need," He paused and flipped the box over to read the label that was in English, "Antinal?"

"Because you're travelling around the world more now that you're in F1 and have an additional ten or so race weekends added to your calendar." You explained as Oscar read what minimal English was on the medicine box "And so you're gonna be trying a lot more foreign food. Gotta be prepared, man." You patted him on the shoulders as a form of consolation. Oscar just laughed.

"I must say, when you texted me that you had got me something, I didn't think it would be this."

"Technically my auntie did." You said before explaining how you would probably needed to purchase another 23kg suitcase from all the things your aunty was adamant you have with you for the rest of the season. Oscar was laughing at the five packets of sunflower seeds your aunt thought was an essential when you clocked it.

Or, better yet, them. Charles and Carlos.

Both staring at you. And Oscar.

You felt a jolt rush through you realised. Oscar's latest girlfriend update went to background noise as you took in the two Ferrari drivers stood there.

Carlos was appraising, his head slightly tilted as he clearly was observing the two of you. You could only imagine what he noted.

You. Oscar. Laughter. Gift exchanged. Mention of relatives and close family.

Still, the kind Spaniard's eyes were a lot easy to take in than Charles.

Charles who was clearly fuming.

Or, clearly to you. You knew his angry tells. Right fist clenches then unfurls. Left hand runs through hair. Lips are pursed. And then he walks off.

You watched as Charles said something to Carlos and then turned around to stalk off. You watched his retreating form with forlorn eyes and before you caught Carlos looking at you. The furrow between your brows where you had probably stared longingly after the best friend who left you in the dust immediately fell when you looked at Carlos.

That was the first time that Charles was actually acknowledging your existence in how long.

You drew your eyes back to Carlos who was still looking at you. You smiled you found yourself even lifting up a hand to wave. You saw his eyebrows raise slightly and his lips lift into a smile. He waved back. Then someone called his name and you saw his cousin and manager appear from the Ferrari motorhome. You turned back to look at Oscar who was still talking, unaware of anything that happened in the past minute.

"... anyway Lily wants to meet you and - "

"Have you copped any shit?" You interrupted Oscar and turned to him. You had both neared the McLaren Motorhome and knew this would be where you both parted ways.

"Copped shit from who?"

"Other drivers." You specified.

"I mean I haven't really had a chance to speak with them." Oscar said, pursing his lips as if he thought about it. "The Williams guys are nice. Alex is funny."

"Alex is funny." You agreed. You did like Alex. He had a good heart. You would forever be salty at what Red Bull did to him.

"Lewis said hello, which was nice. Fernando reminded me his career is older than me." You couldn't help but snort at that. Oh, Nando.

"And Lando is... well, Lando." You perfectly understood just what Oscar meant by that. His words, however, also confirmed what you had suspected. None of the 'core' drivers that surrounded Ferrari or Red Bull's circles had come near him. You knew that many of the guys had gone out a few times to celebrate the start of the season and the fact that Oscar had very clearly not been invited was, well, getting to you.

Especially since you were 99.9% sure you were the reason why.

You stared at the young Australian boy in front of you and felt two things wash over you.

The first was sadness.

A lame word but there was no other way to describe it. Infuriated, annoyed, hurt - sure. But you were also just sad. Sad that this was your life and that anyone close to you still managed to get tainted by the things you were forced to lug around yourself.

The second was fondness.

The boy was young and innocent but carried himself with wisdom and dignity beyond his mere 20 years. And his dry ass sarcasm was a special type of humour you missed having around you. He was caring, loyal and an overall good sport. Having Oscar around made you realise how long it has been since you've laughed. He drove you the airport, bought you food and stayed up to watch old FRIENDS reruns after finding out Daniel Ricciardo had cornered you in the gym.

"Your love language is quality time." Was his reasoning when he had arrived at your hotel room. And so he ordered some KFC and got comfortable in your hotel room to watch Chandler and Joey forget Ross' baby on a bus. You knew Oscar didn't like sit-coms -- it was a recurring argument -- but he watched five episodes that night after you had texted him feeling panicked and needing help when Daniel arrived drunk at the gym.

In short, in that moment, you were suddenly hyperaware of how much you really, really, really fucking loved Oscar Piastri.

So maybe that's why you just came out with it.

"Jos Verstappen has a restraining order against me."

Oscar blinked. Once. Twice. Clearly he wasn't expecting you to say that. You weren't even expecting you to really say it.

"Come again?"

"Well his wife does." You corrected. "Because the courts wouldn't accept a man of his size him to need protection from little old me." You rubbed your arm, feeling the full vulnerability of what you were doing. You thought of your next words carefully, making sure to not step over the NDA you had signed. "I used to train Max when he was at Torro Rosso and then at Red Bull. I always saw bruises on his arms. One day I..." you huffed, hating that you legally couldn't say what had actually happened. "Well, I ended up beating Jos Verstappen half to death."

Oscar was silent. His face was void of much reaction. He wasn't even looking you in the face but staring at the ground in his pensive state. You were aware that you both had stopped walking and were stood to the side.

"Is that why you don't officially work as a trainer and had to be all pedantic with training me?" All you could do was nod to his question. Oscar shook his head. "I mean, I've heard the stories about Max and his dad but..."

Now it was your turn to blink. Once. Twice. You frowned and Oscar finally met your eyes and you were stunned to see the easy going grin on his face once more. It hadn't disappeared. "I can only guess you had to sign an NDA and this isn't the full story. And even if it is, well, it's enough to know you were protecting someone from a -- well, an abuser."

"I... Yeah. Thanks." You weren't sure what you were thanking him for. For believing you? For not treating you differently? For taking your side when everyone in Formula 1 had dropped you and treated you like a leper?

"Is that why you and Ricciardo fell through?" Oscar asked. It wasn't nosy. You had explained enough to him. It was enough he knew what happened.

"No Danny, he, uh-." You hated how small your voice sounded. Or that you immediately fell back to his nickname. "He cheated."

Oscar was silent, waiting for you to continue. And so you did so. You told him everything. From Daniel to Charles to the moment you punched Jos Verstappen in the face.

Carlos Sainz was ready to punch someone in the face.

He sat there at the table, fist curled tight as he tried to calm down from all that he was hearing. It seems like his name would only be an added tag to an otherwise Charles Leclerc fest of a season. Carlos knew, sure, that coming into a Ferrari where his teammate was known as Il Predestinato would mean that he needed to prove himself, put himself in the spotlight and make the Tifosi give him a name like that.

However, as the current race strategy meeting was showing, it seemed like no one in Ferrari was going to give Carlos the chance.

"Now, boys, I have something to discuss with you two." Fred said as people were starting to leave and the meeting seemingly coming to an end. Carlos wanted nothing more than to get up and storm off but he reigned it and listened to the change in Fred's tone.

"What's up?" Charles asked, sitting up.

"Quietly, there was a team principal meeting with Domenicali." Fred said, and this time Carlos sat up also. His anger was momentarily forgotten as his interest piqued. "McLaren have unofficially started working with a girl to train their rookie." Charles was playing with his APM Monaco bracelets, somewhat paying attention. Carlos watched him. There was one particular bracelet he always fiddled with, a small gold chain tucked amidst all the other extravagant pieces.

"She's a Hospitality worker."

Carlos saw how Charles froze. His teammate looked up. Carlos saw the horrified look on his face.

"Quoi?" The French slip was only further proof of something. Carlos's mind raced to make the connection.

The lighbulb went off just before Fred said it.

"She was your friend, non?" Fred said. "Worked with Max Verstappen in Torro Rosso." His eyes flickering over to Carlos. They had been teammates back then.

Charles's years and years of media training went out the window as he struggled to make sense of what he was hearing. Carlos, however, was suddenly thrown back a few years and thinking about just who had caused this whole shitstorm.

You.

Carlos said your name, feeling something swell up in him by saying your name in front of Charles who was your former best friend. Maybe it was ego from the recent meeting, but Carlo wanted to drive the knife in a little deeper.

"She's a very good trainer. I watched her sessions with Verstappen." And that wasn't on showing up Charles; it was the truth. Max's dominance needed to be at least somewhat accredited to you.

"Turns out she is not allowed to work for new teams." Fred spoke. "That means for McLaren to hire her goes against some contract Formula 1 put in place after an incident with Verstappen."

There was a pause. Carlos waited for Charles to say something - to say it. He didn't. So Carlos did.

"She was defending Max." Carlos said, defending you when he thought the silent Monacoan beside him would've. Didn't you two grow up together?

The Verstappen Incident, Carlos was well aware of. However, whatever happened between you and Charles... well, Carlos was out of the loop.

"It doesn't matter." Fred waved. "I'm not here to speak of the drama. But I did have a look. Mattia never told me but she has ties with Ferrari from before - "

"But she's a Hospitality worker!" Charles finally spoke up. "Mattia he-- I spoke to him about her."

"You did?" Fred took that piece in. Carlos wanted to scoff. Clearly Mattia hadn't mentioned that in the hand over notes. "What did Mattia say?" Fred asked.

"Peut-être on peut parler juste nous deux." Charles said, the switch the French reigniting Carlos' anger once more. He forced himself to breathe steadily while Fred nodded. Both men had often tried to keep to English in front of him for the sake of manners and being polite, as opposed to using their mother tongue and making Carlos feel, well, like he felt now. Excluded. Enraged.

Still, Carlos' French skills were okay enough for understand what Charles had said. He stood up and, in French, said. "I'll leave you two." Without looking back, he walked out the motorhome trying to steel himself.

He really wanted to punch something.

Walking a little ways down the Paddock, he took deep breaths and shot a flurry of texts to his dad. He needed his advice on what to do given the way the meeting had gone. It was then that a girl on rollerblades holding the Australian flag zoomed past him and Carlos looked up.

The entertainment at Albert Park never missed. Carlos smiled slightly. Australia was a fun circuit. Not his favourite track by any means but the actual circuit itself had a lot going on that he enjoyed. It was lively, music always pumping and the weather was nice.

Still, the sounds of laughter and the faint dance music that echoed through the Paddock weren't enough to lift his spirits.

And then he saw you.

You were walking with Lando's new teammate, the infamous Oscar something. He hadn't paid much attention to the newbie, hearing something vaguely about Alpine drama from Lando. It all had gone in one ear and out the other.

Now, Carlos saw you walking with him and suddenly he wished he knew more about the kid. Why him? Why were you friends with him? Since when did you have friends? And why risk it all just to train him?

Carlos had always been perfectly polite, nice. Why didn't you laugh with him? Why didn't you reach into your bag to pull out a small box and hand to him as you explained him whatever gift you had brought him? What made this Oscar kid so lucky?

Maybe it was just the Australians seeking out one another? Everyone on the Grid knew you had dated Ricciardo. That had been a painful experience. It was one thing to have pined after you, as Max his teammate's trainer. It was another to see you get swept off your feet by the senior Red Bull driver that everyone adored. Carlos' days at Red Bull sucked since all he did was think about you - and you barely paid him any attention.

Sure, he was now no longer Ricciardo's junior but it still got to him. Daniel Ricciardo had waltzed in and you had gone wide-eyed before Carlos could've even tried.

Because he would've. He really would've. Even before his dad told him who your uncle was. Even before he tried your cooking, your coffee. Even before he knew your name. A young Carlos Sainz had seen a pretty girl walking around in the same Real Madrid kit that he owned at home and immediately wanted to go up to her, to ask her name, to ask her out.

Carlos felt the door behind him open and out came Charles. He looked completely at ease despite what had occurred before. He patted Carlos on the shoulder. And just as he did that, Carlos' phone beeped. His father.

Don't get mad. Just get even on the track.

Carlos pocketed his phone but felt something ignite inside him. He would do that. It wasn't Charles' fault for Ferrari's favouritism. Carlos had to admit the Monégasque was a genuinely nice guy.

"You alright, mate?" Charles asked. "I'm really sorry about before."

"I'm alright. Excited for the race." Carlos said, changing the subject and not mentioning it at all. If anything, he would stay out if it all and just focus on the race, on proving everyone wrong. He take his father's advice and make his own mark in this team.

"Ah, Australia is always special." Charles said.

Despite what his father had said, anger came back within Carlos. It was the same anger he felt towards that Australian kid. And Daniel Ricciardo. And, to an extent, Max.

Carlos was jealous. Not for Charles' favouritism from Ferrari, but the favouritism from you. Charles had you and he'd thrown you out for whatever reason.

Carlos' eyes came back to you and suddenly he couldn't help himself. Sure, he could stay out of all the Ferrari drama but this was you. He couldn't stay out of it when you were right there, walking beside the new kid who didn't know that Charles had essentially banned every driver from interacting with you.

"Yeah?" Carlos spoke before he even realised. "What's so special about Australia?"

The answer was obvious: you.

You were what had been so special. Carlos' days at Torro Rosso meant that he knew about how you felt towards Albert Park, that it was almost like your home race.

For one, you didn't stay at the Crown Casino hotel like the rest of them. No, instead you stayed at your auntie's place by the beach. Carlos knew that from the time he had to drive a passed out Max Verstappen to said home back in 2017.

Charles' smile dropped slightly. Then he brought it back up. "Ah, you know. The sun, the people. There is a special energy here that - "

He stopped talking.

Carlos knew that his teammate had finally spotted you also. Turning his head to look over at Charles, Carlos took in the look of utter rage on his teammate's face.

And then, you looked up. You noticed him. Them. You met his eyes and then you looked at Charles. The McLaren driver was still talking beside you, oblivious to how you had clearly stopped listening to him. Charles took a deep breath.

He stormed off.

Carlos couldn't help but roll his eyes. He didn't know the truth, but Carlos had heard the many rumours as to why Charles had cut you off. He thought they were all rubbish.

Looking back at you, Carlos met your eyes once more and he thought about his options.

He knew that you were in part responsible for training one of the best drivers on the grid. He also knew that it would take a bit of a miracle to help him outperform Charles Leclerc and show Ferrari what was what.

But hey, if this Oscar kid was going to go against the grid's treasured and unspoken rule, why couldn't he?

You really jinxed yourself.

At first, the Australian Grand Prix was off to a great start. Sleeping at home meant that you had more comfortable waking in a bed that was familiar - and not stuck in some isolating three star hotel room that made you question the hotel rating system.

Three stars with suspicious smells coming from the closet? No, thank you.

Instead, you got to wake up to your auntie humming as she prepared her own version of pancakes. It had been a long time since anyone had made pancakes for you. And even though you had breakfast plans with Oscar and his family, you still ate some of her and kissed her goodbye as you went to the circuit.

By car. You drove yourself. In your beloved Supra, the one that had essentially taught you everything you knew about cars (that and Top Gear) were finally united.

And that in itself was a beautiful fucking thing.

There were a small handful of circuits in where you had a car in the country and could actually drive yourself. Australia was one of them. Japan was another. Monaco was the other.

Then again, Monaco was far too crazy to be driving during a race weekend anyway. Still, it was nice to be able to play some calming lo-fi beats as you drove the familiar Lakeside Drive that led up to the street circuit that was built around the lake. Your lake.

You had found yourself a good parking spot and the cafe vendor recognised you and gave you a free latte. Some marshalls walking by were joking about something nonsensical but the banter and accent made you feel warm inside. No matter the complicated feelings that being Australian brought up, you still enjoyed the laid-back attitudes that came with the softened ds and ts.

You had a good gym session, showing progress with your training. You dropped another kilogram off with the cut working well and then you were ready to go to the safe confined of the McLaren motorhome.

And then you saw the message from your co-worker.

Sorry bro. There's been a change in the roster because Mack called in sick. You're going to be covering him at Ferrari for the rest of the race weekend.

You really had jinxed yourself.

taglist: @eugene-emt-roe@spookystitchery@vicurious28@taytaylala12@c-losur3 @hiireadstuff @samantha-chicago @fionaschicken @casperlikej @bookstore-of-dreams @itsjustkhaos@sam-is-lost @laneyspaulding19@formula1mount @bokutos-babyowl @stampiej @alilcloudy @bingussthirdtoe @sisinever @lilymurphy03 @inlovewmarlenemckinnon

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illdowhatiwantthanks · 2 days

Text

The Lemon & The Apple (The Surprise, Part 7)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, NSFW, sex, fingering, strap-on, oral, some explicit language, pregnancy times. established relationship, fluff, smut (let me know if I missed anything!) Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Baby names, cravings, and more in the next few weeks of your pregnancy. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Morning sickness might be gone, but so is Emily, often. She's out on a case and the second trimester has your sex drive higher than ever.

Week 14: The Lemon

Emily walked out of Quantico and into the fluorescent-lit parking lot, holding her phone to her ear as she waited for you to pick up.

“Hi, lovely,” you answered, your voice bright. You were generally happy these days, having left morning sickness behind in the first trimester.

“Hey,” she said, smiling. “I’m just now leaving the office. Have you eaten?”

“No.”

“Want me to bring you something?” she asked, plugging her phone in as she drove off, your voice filling the car.

“Yeah, I could eat,” you replied sarcastically. You could always eat right now. In fact, you had a hard time eating enough.

“What do you want?” Emily already knew the answer. These days, you wanted the same thing. Every day. Even multiple times a day. To the point that the restaurant owners knew you.

The line was quiet.

“Y/N,” Emily prompted.

“Umm…” You stalled. You knew pregnancy cravings were no joke, but it still embarrassed you a bit to be this obsessed. Emily had to be getting tired of El Rinconcito. This would be your fourth time going this week. And it was only Wednesday.

Emily smiled, knowing you were trying to be considerate of what she wanted. “You want pupusas, don’t you?”

“Yes," you admitted, a little guilty. “But we don’t have to. We can get something else if you want.”

“Ah!” Emily tutted. “Stop that. You’re my wife. You’re pregnant. You want pupusas, then that's what you'll get.”

You smiled to yourself. Emily was so good at spoiling you. “Thank you, love.”

“Same as usual?”

“Yep.”

“Alright. I love you. I’ll see you in a bit.”

When Emily walked through the door at El Rinconcito, the owner, Ernesto, threw up his hands in greeting.

“Mrs. FBI!” he called. “The usual for your beautiful wife?”

Normally, Emily hated to be called Mrs. anything, but she found Ernesto’s nickname endearing. You came in multiple times a week, and you often talked about Emily, almost always referring to her as “my wife, she’s an FBI agent.” So when Ernesto called her Mrs. FBI, what Emily heard was that you talked about her constantly; it was a nice reminder that you were crazy about her, always thinking about her. So, for you? She’d be Mrs. FBI.

“Yeah, thanks, Ernesto,” she said, sighing and leaning on the counter. “All the pupusas.”

“And for you?”

Emily flipped through a menu without really looking at anything. She’d eaten so much Salvadoran food in the last few weeks. She was starting to get tired of it. “Honestly? Anything I haven’t had yet. Surprise me.”

Half an hour later, Emily was walking through the door with a plastic bag of takeout, grinning as you stood on tiptoes to kiss her on the cheek, snatching the food from her hand.

“God, I’m starving,” you groaned, flopping onto the couch and pulling out a pupusa, moaning as you took a bite.

Emily pulled out her own food–a container of some kind of heavenly-smelling soup–and sat next to you, watching you devour the pupusa.

“I think you’re more in love with pupusas than me right now,” she joked.

“Mmhm,” you mumbled through a bite. “Look out, I might leave you for Ernesto.”

Emily was quiet for a moment as you both ate before venturing, “I’ve been thinking about names.”

“You have?” You absentmindedly placed a hand on your stomach, which flipped in excitement.

Emily looked almost scared, like she was genuinely afraid to raise the subject. She bit at her fingernails, and you took her hand to stop her.

“What are you thinking?” you prompted, trying to put her at ease.

“I was wondering if… I mean, if you’re okay with it…” She stumbled over her words, which was so rare for Emily.

You rubbed your thumb across her hand. “Em, you’re fine. Just say it.”

She avoided your eyes, her voice quiet. “I thought maybe, if you liked it, we could name him after my grandfather.

You felt your heart soften as you watched her. “The one whose cabin we stay at in France?”

“Yeah.”

“Julien?”

“Yeah…”

You smiled at her, still holding her hand. “I don’t know, Em, I was pretty set on another name,” you teased.

It was almost more than you could take when her face fell, but the joke was too good not to land.

“Oh, really?” she said, her voice low and sad.

“Mmhm,” you continued, taking another bite of pupusa. “I was thinking Ernesto.”

She glared at you, trying and failing to fight off a smile as you burst out laughing.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” you said, reaching forward to run your thumb along her cheekbone. “Babe, I love Julien. He’ll be Julien. If it’s a boy.”

“Ugh, not this again,” she complained, but you knew she was teasing. You both had grown to love your faux-feud over the baby’s gender. There was no question that the baby would be loved, perfectly and wholly, regardless of their gender at birth or their gender later on. But you both enjoyed a bit of competition and, god, you knew Emily’s correct “profiling” of the fetus would go straight to her head if the little lemon turned out to be a boy.

“So do I get to pick the name if it’s a girl?” you asked, smirking, your eyebrows raised.

“Did you have one in mind?”

“Maybe Eve? After my mom? It’s her middle name.”

She smiled softly, watching you pile the takeout trash into the plastic bag. “Yeah, I like that. But he’s a boy, so…”

You rolled your eyes, but stretched out on the couch, laying your head in Emily’s lap so that you were looking right up at her. There was so much love in her eyes when she looked at you, it took your breath away. She gave you butterflies. Nearly six years in and you still got butterflies when she looked at you like that.

“Play with my hair?” you asked, and she started running her fingers through. God, she could put you to sleep like that. You closed your eyes and sighed contentedly. “So Julien if it’s a boy, Eve if it’s a girl.”

“Mmhm,” she said, watching you in her lap. She loved the feeling of you there, the weight of you, the knowing that you felt safe and loved and comfortable. She loved making you feel that way. It was an honor, a privilege, a gift that you loved her like that. That you let her love you like that.

“So Julien it is, then.” Emily smirked, watching you frown.

You smacked her arm playfully, keeping your eyes closed. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I know.”

But, really, it was you who were lucky to love her.

Week 15: The Apple

Another week, another long case for Emily. She’d been somewhere in Oklahoma for nearly ten days. It wasn’t the longest she’d ever been in the field, but it was close. And it likely felt longer than normal because you were pregnant and hungry and no longer had an Emily to run out and get food for you at any hour of the day or night.

After months of feeling disgusting and exhausted, your sex drive was also back in full force. What a time for Emily to be gone. Just when you needed her. Really needed her. You hadn’t heard from her in about 24 hours, which would concern you except that you had her location on your phone. You spent many an evening with your Find My app open, watching both the TV and the little dot that was your wife making her way around various cities. Mostly, you just wanted to be sure she was moving. And that she wasn’t at a hospital.

But the dot hadn’t updated in a few hours tonight. Still not necessarily cause for alarm, but you made a mental note to call Emily later and make sure she was okay. As for now, you sprawled on the couch, eating a box of Kraft Mac & Cheese (Spongebob shapes only) straight out of the saucepan, while reruns of New Girl played.

You sat up quickly when you heard the apartment door open and shut, a smile lighting up your face when you saw it was Emily.

“You’re home!” you called, meaning to leap off the couch but struggling–you still weren’t used to the added weight or the way your now-protruding stomach knocked you off balance. When you finally got to your feet, Emily was standing at a distance, just staring at you, her cheeks flushed, eyes bright and soft.

“What?” you said, reddening under her gaze.

“You’re showing,” she said, her voice rough, like she might cry. She moved closer and placed her hands on your waist so that her thumbs brushed over your belly.

You felt your skin shiver under her touch, your body already longing for hers. You put your hands on the back of her neck and pulled her down into a kiss. A heavy kiss, a hungry kiss, a kiss that set you on fire. Heated and heady and frantic.

You slid your hands under her shirt, pressing your fingers into the soft skin of her abdomen. When she pulled away, your breath was ragged, your face flushed. You whined, pulling at her collar.

She smirked at you. “I take it you missed me.” She grasped your face in both hands, her thumbs grazing back and forth against your jawline. You huffed, nearly dizzy with desire for her, as she pressed her lips to your eyelids, your chin, your cheekbone, then back to your mouth. You felt drunk on her. She pushed her tongue into your mouth, and you moaned, leaning your body into hers.

You were so dazed you couldn’t even bring yourself to open your eyes when she pulled back again, running her fingers along the bottom of your lip.

“Emily,” you said breathlessly.

“Hmm?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

She silently led you to the bedroom and laid you down on the bed, her hands all over you as she removed your sports bra and pulled down your shorts. She lowered herself on top of you, and you moaned as she ran her tongue down your neck.

“How do you want it?” she asked, swirling over first one nipple and then the other.

You arched your back and gasped. “Strap,” you said, your thighs already glistening. You wouldn't need any warming up tonight.

Emily furrowed her eyebrows and sat up, thinking. You looked up at her expectantly. “Hey.”

“Is it safe?”

“What?!”

“The strap,” she said, placing careful hands where your stomach protruded. “He’s getting bigger. I don’t want to hurt him.”

“You can’t be serious.” You groaned, shoving her off of you, and rolling over to rummage through her nightstand, emerging with your favorite dildo and her harness. You tossed them at her impatiently. “Em. You speak six languages. You’re one of the smartest people I know. You cannot be this dumb.”

Emily still looked hesitant as she strapped up, watching you with concern. “You’re sure?”

“Emily,” you chastised. “It’s big but it’s not that big. Come here.”

You grabbed her wrist and jerked her toward you, shoving her hand between your legs so she could feel how aroused you were, feel the slick coating your thighs and your center.

She exhaled breathily, shuddering above you. “Shit,” she hissed, unable to resist running her fingers through your folds.

You bucked your hips toward her, nearly incoherent with want.

“Please,” you begged. “I need you.”

And with that, Emily could resist no longer. She crashed her body into yours, her mouth and hands roaming all over you–your mouth, your face, your chest, your stomach. You cried out as she eased her fingers into you, collecting your arousal to coat her strap.

You squirmed as she teased your entrance with the tip of the strap. “Emily,” you whined.

“Shh,” she said, and you gasped as she pushed herself inside of you. Your chest heaved as you adjusted to the feeling of being filled, and she leaned down to press a kiss to the side of your head. “I got you,” she whispered, breath hot in your ear as she started to thrust.

Your body quaked and pulsed around her as she moved deeper, burying herself inside of you, your chests pressed together. Her eyelids fluttered and she trembled, her breath hitching.

You got tired of waiting for her to move, eager for the pleasure of her pressing against your walls, the way she hit every single spot perfectly until it drove you wild. You grabbed at her hips and pulled her into you.

She didn’t need any more encouragement, snapping her hips to reach as far back into you as she could. You quivered around her as she moved, pulling for more, more, more.

You were desperate for her, high on the feeling of her inside you, the taste of the sweat that dripped from her collarbone, the way her eyes burned into you then rolled back when a wave of pleasure hit her.

You felt your body winding up for release and chased it, chased it harder than perhaps you ever had, your back arched so high seeking her out that she had to hold your hips down. Unable or unwilling to wait any longer, you reached down to circle your clit with your thumb, moaning as you tensed.

Emily grabbed your hand and held it above your head. You whimpered. “Shh,” she said again, pressing her mouth into yours so deeply that you lost your breath. “Let me.”

She kept thrusting, kept hitting that spot she knew would drive you nearly over the edge, until you were nearly begging for it.

“Emily, please,” you gasped.

Finally, finally, she pressed her thumb to your clit–and that was all it took. You exploded, clenching rhythmically around her as you threw your head back. She swallowed your moans with her lips, fucking you through your orgasm and bringing you back down as you jerked and then fell limp against the bedsheets, spent and flushed red.

You breathed heavily, still shaking as Emily pulled out of you. She placed a kiss on your overstimulated clit and you groaned, pulling her mouth to yours. Emily smiled at you, brushing a sweaty strand of hair out of your face.

“Jesus, Em,” you breathed. “I don’t think I’ve ever come harder.”

“Well, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you hornier,” she chuckled, kissing your head and cheek, then laying next to you, and pulling you in, her hands once again caressing the rise of your stomach.

You blushed. “It’s the hormones.”

“Well, I’m certainly not complaining,” she said, smiling, placing another small kiss on the tip of your nose.

You scrunched and grinned. Emily resumed staring at you, and she looked almost sad.

“You okay?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbow and placing a gentle hand on her cheek.

“You’re just so beautiful. I mean, you’re always beautiful, but…” She looked down at your stomach, then pulled you into her so you could rest your head on her chest and she could run her fingers up and down your spine. She sighed. “I just really love you.”

You stared into her eyes, running your tongue along the inside of your bottom lip. “Keep that up, you’ll have to fuck me again.”

She grinned at you, smug, and held your face gently as she kissed you. “You’re beautiful,” she said again. “So beautiful. And your body.” She groaned. "I love your body."

“You do?” you cheesed.

“You do things to me,” Emily finished, pushing her tongue through your lips.

Your body started tingling again, and you grabbed at her waist, pulling her into you. “God,” you breathed. “It’s gonna be a long night.”

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss fluff #emily prentiss drabble #emily prentiss smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

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thewritingbeforesunrise · 1 day

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Love On My Fingers, Lust On My Tongue.

18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI

A/N: This story is totally self-indulgent and was inspired by one specific line from the fic Wild Child, written by the lovely and immensely talented @writingcold. If you haven't already, go check it out, you won't regret it, believe me😉

I really hope you like this one. It's been ages since I last indulged in writing this kind of fics.

Special thanks to @edgingthedarkness for suggesting this delicious gif!

Join my taglist here.

Word count: 6K

Pairing: Jake x female!reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+ONLY, graphic sexual content, handjobs, oral (m!receiving), use of toys, anal play, pegging.

Summary: Coming home late from work, you decide to skip dinner to better savour dessert.

________________________________

Winter really didn't seem to let the warm rays of spring sunshine free to dissolve its icy tentacles.

Snow kept falling for the entire day without a pause but your boss was adamant in his decision of not letting you go home early. That bastard.

You were angry, freezing and starving and you couldn't wait to finally go home, shower, inhale dinner, bury yourself under at least three blankets and cocoon in Jake’s warm embrace.

He was lucky. He was home from tour and still asleep when you had left for work. You had been thinking about him the whole day. You envied and longed for him at the same time.

When it was finally 5pm, you clocked out and reached your car as quickly as possible, while trying not to break your neck slipping on the copious snow on the pavement.

After pushing the snow off the windshield, your gloves were soaked and your boots were full of icy snow slowly melting in your socks.

You felt anger increase in your chest as a passing car hit a puddle and soaked your jeans. You were about to flip them the bird and send them to hell but karma took the matter into its own hands before you could, sending the way-to-fast proceeding car to spin out in the middle of the road. Thank God there was no-one else there or it would have caused a big accident.

You were about to go check if they were alright when they drove off.

You climbed in your car and turned the heat at maximum level.

When finally you started to feel your own hands again, you took the road and started driving home.

But unfortunately not for long.

Traffic was always bad in your town but when snow was involved it was a proper nightmare.

You were proceeding so slowly that it was a miracle if you could be home in two hours time.

You phoned Jake and told him you were basically trapped on the road home.

He reassured you that he would cook for you and run you a hot bath for when you would be home.

You thanked him profusely. Mentally you were already home with him.

After an hour or so, the traffic jam went down unexpectedly and you found yourself pulling up your driveway much sooner than you had originally anticipated.

You wanted to surprise Jake, so you didn't call him to tell him you were early.

When you opened the door of your house, warmth and the fragrant smell of pizza engulfed you and your mouth watered instantly.

Jake was surprised to see you.

He was sprawled on the sofa wearing only a soft robe around his body. When he saw you were there, he approached you, placing a lingering kiss on your freezing lips.

He looked freshly showered and so soft you wanted to climb inside his body. He smelled wonderfully too.

As soon as your eyes landed on him, you were no longer hungry.

Well, at least not for actual food.

You couldn't wait to be tangled with him under many blankets.

When he asked about your day you didn't answer. You just crashed your lips with his and reveled in the familiar and comforting taste of him.

You started backing him slowly back into the living room and, when he reached the couch, you made him sit down.

You admired the way his damp lips glittered in the soft light coming from the lamp in the corner of the room and the way his big brown sleepy eyes watched you ever so submissively from below.

When you slowly dropped down to your knees between his slightly parted legs, you saw his eyes roll back into his skull as a low growl escaped his throat.

You started caressing his thighs through the fabric covering him and you saw him shiver lightly when you reached for the knot holding the robe closed.

You made quick work of it, uncovering his chest and starting to place little kisses on the expanse of soft smooth skin. Your icy hands travelled lower and he hissed sharply when you touched the warm bare skin of his hips, the contrasting temperatures making goosebumps raise on his body.

You uncovered him completely then, moving your kisses lower onto that soft tummy that you loved so much while your hands rounded around his perfect ass.

He hissed again then and tensed, but relaxed soon after, when your hands started warming, thanks to the heat of his body.

Your kisses moved lower and lower and you made him gasp when you stuck your tongue out and circled his navel, before dipping it inside.

Then, you placed a quick kiss on his hip bone and you bit down harshly, sucking the skin inside your mouth and making him groan again.

You had been purposely neglecting his growing erection, but when his hips rutted up almost imperceptibly, you took pity in him.

Now you were face to face with it. He was absolutely perfect and you knew you would never get tired of him.

You gently took him into your hand and he stiffened even more. You both sighed, contentedly. You knew that the feeling of his weight growing in your hand and on your tongue would cure your upset. It always did.

“God, please, baby yes” he muttered, sounding already on the verge.

You started stroking him gently and seductively.

“Did you take care of yourself today, baby?” You asked him as your lips started kissing, nibbling and leaving marks on the inside of his thighs.

Surprisingly he shook his head.

“I didn't. I was waiting for you. Actually I kind of edged myself all day” he confessed, already out of breath.

“You know I love when you take care of this beautiful cock of yours when I'm not here to do so, but fuck it if I don't love the idea of you edging yourself because you wanted to wait for me.” You whispered on his damp skin, making him shiver again as your grip tightened slightly around his erection.

“I know, but I missed your touch so much that nothing compares” He confessed, moaning lowly as your tongue dragged up and down the underside of him from base to tip to base again, in one slow broad lick.

Your hands stroked his hips again and you thought you felt something in one of his pockets.

You were about to reach inside to discover what it was but he begged for your mouth , blushing a little.

“I need your mouth, angel” he whimpered, sounding desperate.

You nuzzled your nose against the warm skin of his balls, making him close his eyes and whimper.

Unexpectedly, you started stroking him with purpose, making him grit his teeth and pant at your sudden change of pace.

You even added the little twist to the tip that he loved so much, gaining a pained groan from him.

You placed his wet tip between your lips and gave him a light suck before plunging him to the back of your throat without warning while kneading his balls gently between your fingers.

That action made him almost lose it completely but he recovered, biting his bottom lip with force and clawing at the couch.

His back arched as your throat constricted around his length and his movement caused something to finally slip out of his pocket.

Lube.

You slowed down your rhythm but kept your mouth on him, arching an eyebrow and silently asking him for an explanation.

And he couldn't stop himself from confessing.

“Since you were late, I wanted to try something. I was ready to turn on the TV on some suggestive video and edge myself until you came home.” He whispered, averting his eyes from yours, embarrassed.

You gently removed your mouth from him and sat back at his confession.

An idea slowly slithered inside your mind.

“Go on then, baby. Show me what you had in mind” you winked at him, tossing him the lube and making him curse.

“Really?” He asked, a little annoyed about your change of heart.

“Hm-hm” you nodded and sat back to enjoy the show.

You watched him closely as he placed a generous amount of lube onto his hands and warmed it a little.

Then he wrapped a hand around himself and started stroking his cock slowly, groaning and whimpering every now and then.

Just when you saw his body tense and you knew he was almost ready to let go, you spoke, ordering him to stop and remove his hand from himself completely.

“Stop, Jakey” you said. Your authoritative tone made him almost jump.

His eyes shot open in shock, as if in reality he forgot you were there and didn't enjoy your little teasing game.

But you knew better. He was the one who taught you that edging, and consequently being edged, was one of his favorite things. Ever.

You had learned that at your expense way too many times.

“Baby, pleaseee. I need it so bad.” He begged you, pouting adorably and hitching to wrap his hand around himself once more to finish what you had started.

He looked at you with a pained expression and with his rosy lips wet and parted as he panted, but obeyed nonetheless.

“First, you have to tell me what's inside your other pocket.” You went on, sounding incredibly serious.

His eyes widened in utter panic and he blushed the deepest shade of red you had ever seen.

Then, he cursed himself out loud for even thinking he could outsmart you and get away with it.

He knew he was in trouble. And the more he waited to finally show you the content of his pocket, the more you were going to punish him for even thinking he could get away with it.

Even though he knew that, he couldn't even bring himself to say it out loud but after a few agitated minutes in which his heart threatened to jump out of his chest, he finally relented.

You followed the slow path of his hand from the couch to inside his pocket with bated breath.

You saw him grab something in there.

Then his eyes fluttered closed, he took a deep breath, muttered a low “oh my god” and then removed his hand from there, finally showing you what he had been hiding from you.

You gasped.

You really didn't expect that.

His cheeks were ablaze. He was covering his eyes with his bent arm as he placed the object on the sofa for you to see and, immediately, removed his hand from it as if he had been burned.

You didn't know what to say.

You recognised it.

It was the vibrating dildo he had once discovered inside your nightstand drawer at the early stages of your relationship.

You had been so embarrassed that night but he, being the gentleman that he was, had brushed it off like it wasn't a big deal. He had even told you he was happy you took care of yourself properly.

You had almost forgotten about it until one night.

You were grasping the sheets for dear life as Jake was railing you from behind.

Sometimes he was the most careful and gentle lover, but other times he treated you like a filthy whore.

That night was one of those times.

And you were loving every second of it.

But suddenly you had felt him move and you had jolted forward in utter shock when you felt something wet and slightly vibrating circle your back entrance.

“Shh, angel.” He reassured you as he kept thrusting into you, “it's just your pretty little toy. It was a bit jealous. It wanted to say hi to your pretty ass as I take care of your sweet pink pussy.” You moaned at his words and started pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts.

“Are you ok with this?” He whispered into your ear from behind, dragging the vibrating toy up and then down your spine, making you shiver, while keeping his thrusts steady but gentle.

You quickly nodded, you needed it so bad.

It wasn't the first time you two indulged in such depraved activities.

To be fair, one night you'd had one too many drinks and you had confessed to him you wanted to try double penetration but since then he had never acted upon it.

He must have thought you weren't paying enough attention to his question because he stopped abruptly and bent his entire body over yours.

The contact with his hot skin made you shiver and moan.

His lips quickly found your ear and his voice, sweet and raspy, made goosebumps raise on your skin.

“Are you really ok with me doing this?” He said gently while pushing strands of your hair out of your eyes to better see your face.

The more you thought about it, the more you couldn't wait for him to do that.

You shivered in anticipation and kissed him passionately.

“Please, Jake, yes” You said, involuntarily clenching around him and making him groan.

You felt the distinct sound of him getting the toy ready for you with copious amounts of lube and then you tried your best to relax.

The feeling of the lightly-vibrating toy sliding inside of your back entrance while Jake kept his hard, flushed cock inside your pussy was something you had never experienced.

You felt so deliciously full you couldn't think straight.

When he started gently moving his hips while keeping the toy still inside of you, you couldn't stop your mouth from hanging open, making you drool all over the sheets.

The sounds that started leaving your mouth were delirious and unbridled when he started pulling the toy slightly out and then back again, picking up the pace.

But you reached the point of no return when he coordinated his thrusts with the toy and increased the speed of the vibrations.

“God, fuck, I can feel it vibrating through your walls, angel. It feels so fucking good.” he groaned on the verge of exploding.

Your brain shut down completely when he increased it at maximum level and you came, making an absolute mess all over the sheets and dragging him with you in a matter of seconds.

Those were the thoughts that crossed your mind when you saw that toy, but you were brought right back to the task at hand when a pained whisper reached your ears.

“Please, just say something” he whispered, still refusing to look you in the eyes.

Your hands immediately found his hips, giving his soft flushed skin a gentle squeeze to try and ease the tension in his body.

The embarrassment had caused him to lose his excitement completely.

As your hands massaged his hips, thighs and back, you felt him relax again.

You skimmed your lips on his soft tummy and started to nibble at the skin of his hipbone, while wrapping a loose hand around his now soft cock.

He mewled a little and sunk further into the sofa.

“It's ok baby, don't be embarrassed. May I ask you what exactly you had in mind?” you asked him, keeping a gentle rhythm on him and circling your tongue around his head.

With a shaky intake of breath he started speaking.

“One night we were staying in a hotel somewhere and there was no way I could sleep. I was so tired but I just couldn't. I didn't want to bother you so I just started messing around with my phone. I ended up on an adult website and…fuck, baby just like that.”

You had successfully derailed his train of thoughts by sucking gently on his tip, tasting his sweet precum.

But the distraction was short-lived.

You needed to know more.

“And?” You pressed him to continue.

“And I randomly chose a video to watch and touch myself to. But when I scrolled down I ended up on a video about…this” he said, pointing to the toy that laid there abandoned on the couch.

He knew you wanted more, so after a few seconds, he went on.

“Fuck, I still get so hard thinking about it. In the video there was a woman penetrating her man with one of this things and he sounded like it was the best thing he had ever had. It looked and sounded like she was ripping the soul from his body. And damn it if I didn't want to try it. It made me cum so hard and so quick I was so embarrassed. I felt so ashamed but I couldn't stop watching it. I wanted to finally try this when you arrived earlier.” he confessed with his cheeks ablaze.

You had completely stilled your hand and mouth on him. You felt incredibly overwhelmed by his words and your brain was having a hard time concentrating.

You two weren't new to that kind of fun either.

It all started the night after a delicious wine-tasting event. The two of you were pleasantly tipsy and you couldn't take your hands off each other as soon as you got home

You were on the couch, clothes already scattered all over the floor and your hands were wandering on each other's bodies. Yours had taken residence on his perfect perky ass and you were kneading the muscles in your hands, making him groan and whimper.

Suddenly your hand slipped and your fingers made contact with his back entrance causing him to whimper and moan your name.

You had frozen after that, looking him in the eyes completely lost in his reaction.

Right there, with a little smirk on his upturned mouth and his eyes glittering from wine and arousal, he wrapped a hand around your wrist and brought two of your fingers to his lips, sucking on them sloppily. Then he dragged them down to repeat the motion that had him moaning over and over again until you were knuckle deep inside of him and he was a whimpering mess.

Maybe your fingers weren't enough anymore and he needed more.

And you were going to give him anything and everything he ever wanted.

He noticed you were lost in your head and his gentle touch on your lips brought you back to the task at hand.

You wrapped your lips around his thumb, sucking lightly, and then letting it drop from your mouth.

You met his eyes and your heartbeat sped up considerably.

He looked so needy and fucked-out already. Delicate and delicious.

“Did you want to try this all alone?” You asked him pouting slightly because he hadn't told you he wanted to try that before.

“Yeah, sorry. I didn't… I guess I didn't know how to bring this up. I can't even say it to be honest” He confessed sheepishly.

“Really? You didn't know how to tell me you wanted me to fuck you in the ass with this bad boy here?” You told him patting the silicone at his side and making him groan out loud at you choice of words.

“Fucking hell baby. You are torturing me. Don't stop.” He said in a pained tone and you winked at him.

“Did you edge yourself with it before I arrived and interrupted you?” you asked then, in a sliver of voice.

He nodded, biting his lower lip, embarrassed.

“Well, Jakey, why don't you show me then? I'd like to watch you have some fun with our little friend here.” You whispered, sensual and dirty, handing him the dildo and the lube and then making yourself comfortable on a cushion on the floor, right in front of his spread legs.

His breath hitched in his throat as he saw you there watching and admiring him like that.

Yours was just a façade. You appeared to him absolutely calm and collected, but internally you were exploding and fighting the urge to jump his bones and destroy him with that toy.

The moment he switched the toy on at the minimum speed, you imperceptibly jumped and bit your tongue to stop yourself from moaning when you saw his hard cock twitch against his flushed tummy.

Your eyes followed his every move with bated breath as he drenched the toy with lube. You watched as he angled his erection upwards with the thumb of his free hand and brushed the tip of the vibrating toy against his flushed head.

A whimper left his lips.

Then he started circling the toy around his tip, focusing on the little spot right under the head and his toes curled at the sensation.

You were going to implode.

He started caressing his shaft with it, up and down, up and down, panting heavily, first just with the tip of the toy and then grabbing the length of it and placing it flush against his member. .

He almost screamed when he prodded the toy against his full tensed balls and you felt your arousal absolutely drench your panties at the sight.

He was about to drag the toy further down but he stopped abruptly, blushing furiously and abandoning it on the couch with a pained groan.

His brain was taking over, making him feel ashamed for what he was doing.

The moment he made eye contact with you, you knelt on the cold floor and crawled towards him.

You closed the distance between the two of you and sat on the sofa at his side, kissing him and stealing his breath away.

“Relax Jakey, let me take care of you” you whispered on his lips and he sighed.

You slipped back on the ground and took him in your hand and then in your mouth, the warmth of it making him hiss.

Your rhythm was slow on his dick and it was making him go crazy.

After a while, when finally he had managed to relax again, you grasped his hand and placed it on the toy that was still humming lightly at his side.

His eyes met yours questioningly but you just nodded and hummed approvingly when he took the toy in his hand.

You placed his hand between his legs and made him almost double over in pleasure when you gently made him press the silicone tip against his taint while keeping your mouth on him.

The scream that echoed into the room was heavenly.

You wanted to hear it again.

You pressed his hand with the toy with a bit more intention there and he cursed, his body tensing.

At that moment your hand slipped further down and you made him push the toy right against his hole, eliciting from him a low moan that made a shiver run down your spine.

You removed both the toy and your mouth from him and he cursed and pleaded with you to just touch him again.

He was about to take the matter into his own hands when you bit on the inside of his thigh to stop him.

Then, while maintaining eye contact with him you licked a broad stripe on the underside of his balls and you pressed your pointed tongue right against his taint and further down, rimming his fluttering hole over and over again while your eyes burned into his.

His eyes rolled back and you chuckled. You loved teasing him like that.

“Holy shit, angel!” He whimpered and clawed at the couch as your tongue kept licking at his entrance with different kinds of pressure.

When, abruptly, you stopped he started begging you, immediately.

“Please, baby, pleasepleaseplease, just fuck me already I can't take it anymore” he slurred, out of breath.

But you were feeling cruel and you didn't want to give in just yet. You wanted to play with him and you were sure he was going to love every second of it.

You removed your mouth from him and he shivered when you started whispering against the sweaty skin of his hip.

“Now, my sweet good boy, would you like to play a game with me?” You said while skimming your lips from his hip to the underside of his cock.

You knew he was going to agree to everything you suggested. He was always down for this kind of games.

“Fuck yes, I do” he answered, closing his eyes and relaxing back.

“I am going to give you everything you want over and over and over again, but on one condition.” You stopped talking until his eyes were open and focused on yours.

When you knew he was looking at you, you started caressing the outside of his muscular thighs, reveling in the way the muscles jumped under your delicate touch while maintaining a devilish eyecontact.

When you reached his knees, you let your hands wrap around them and you pushed them upwards until he was deliciously spread open for you with his bent legs close to his face.

“Keep these beautiful legs of yours spread open for me and wrap your hands around your knees, Jakey. Oh, and hold on tight because if you take them off I'm going to stop and you'll go to bed with blue balls. Understood?” You deadpanned and he knew you meant business.

“Fuck me. Yes, I understand.” He whimpered as your hands caressed the back of his thighs and pressed them further apart.

“Are you ok with this, Jake?” You whispered and he started nodding and saying yes even before you had finished the sentence.

You chuckled but he interrupted you, sounding already on the verge

“I'm beyond the point of no return. I think I may go crazy if you don't just fuck me already.” He confessed spreading himself even further for you.

You delved right in then, skimming your tongue against his entrance and wrapping a tight hand around his leaking cock.

You loved feeling him flutter under the steady licks of your tongue.

When you knew he was relaxed and ready, you stopped stroking him, you let a few drops of lube fall on your fingers and started pushing one inside him, making his scream in pleasure.

“Please, another” he groaned when the first wasn't even fully inside of him yet but you didn't even think twice before giving him exactly what he was asking for.

Soon a third finger joined the other two and you couldn't take your eyes off from where his body was rhythmically swallowing and enveloping your fingers into its warmth.

That image would be engraved in your brain forever, you were sure of it.

He was being such a good boy that you wanted to reward him, so you slightly curled your fingers upwards, making him exhale a high-pitched moan as you easily found his special spot.

“Now I'm going to use the toy, Jakey” you whispered, gently removing your fingers from him and he nodded, struggling to keep his eyes open.

You grabbed the toy you had previously switched off and drenched it one last time with lube.

You circled the tip of it around his hole and Jake whined when you turned the light vibrations on.

You kept teasing him like that for a few minutes before he begged you again to just push the toy in to the hilt. He was desperate.

As you pressed the toy a few inches inside of him he moaned your name, relieved, and arched his back trying to push it in further.

“Please, push it all the way inside. I need it so bad.” He whispered and you obeyed, watching him shiver and arch his back in pleasure as the toy penetrated him deeper and deeper. Watching his toes curl in your peripheral vision was having the worst effect on you, making you moan.

As you kept the toy inside of him you took the opportunity to observe him closely.

He had slipped further down the sofa and was now laying with his back almost all the way on the seat of the couch with his head bent against the back cushion.

He had trapped his hands in the crease behind his spread knees to prevent himself from letting them go and disobeying you.

He was panting heavily, his lips were reddened and sleek with saliva and swollen from the constant biting.

His neck and his heaving chest were covered in sweat, making his skin glitter.

His long hair was completed damp with sweat and strands of it were plastered all over his cheeks and collarbone.

You couldn't help yourself.

You bent over him and kissed him intensely. His tongue wasn't fighting for dominance, like it usually was. He was granting you total control on his body, and you were about to reward him.

As you kept your eyes planted on his face, you started pulling the toy out of him and you saw his face scrunch up and then relax again when you pushed the toy back in.

You repeated the motion again and again, angling the toy so it would massage his special spot and he started whimpering lowly every time it did.

The need to see him unravel completely by your hand was increasing in your chest so you quickened your rhythm, bending to whisper into his ear.

“You better hold on tight, baby, ‘cause I'm about to fucking ruin you.” you hissed in his ear and began moving the toy at a punishing rhythm. That caused his back to arch violently from the couch and a string of curses left his mouth.

“Oh fuck me, angel, just like this, oh my god. Yes fuuuck, right there” He moaned out loud with his eyes squeezed shut as a sequence of particular harsh thrusts hit his prostate in rapid succession.

His eyes snapped open and he cursed loudly when you sucked his balls into your mouth. You started massaging them delicately with your tongue, making him almost scream, while his cock, rock hard and leaking, laid twitching but still neglected on his sweaty tummy.

Your arm started cramping with the unforgiving rhythm you were using to fuck the toy inside of him but you didn't plan on stopping until he was coming harder than he ever had.

With your other unoccupied hand, you were grasping his hip so strongly you were sure you were leaving marks there. You couldn't wait to see his bruises there and remind him who he belonged to.

A particularly intense suction on his full balls paired with the harsh punching his prostate was enduring were what sealed his fate.

He held his breath and you knew he was about to unravel.

When finally he reached the point of no return, it looked as if he had completely lost control over his body. His head started thrashing around and a prolonged scream left his lips.

Ropes of cum covered the sweaty skin of his chest, creating a beautiful painting. Some drops of it even landed on his neck, chin and lips since he was still pretty much folded in half.

The intensity of his orgasm made him dig his nails so hard into the delicate skin behind his knees that he ended up scratching himself.

You kept your eyes peeled on him, admiring him in all his naked glory as his chest heaved and his mouth dropped open in the throes of utmost pleasure, before he started to finally calm down.

You slowed down the thrusts of the dildo and bent over him again. You licked away the drops of cum still on his lips and kissed him, making him taste himself on your tongue and groan.

You were about to remove the toy from inside of him and pamper him with a nice hot bath when you noticed something.

He was still very much hard and you wanted to prolong his pleasure, since he had obeyed your orders so diligently.

You were about to make him remember that night forever.

A loud hoarse curse echoed in the room as you angled the vibrator upwards and put it at maximum speed moving it gently against his prostate without thrusting too harshly.

Then, to maximise his pleasure, you plunged him down your throat while one of your hands gently massaged and squeezed his balls.

He was completely gone in an instant, babbling and moaning unintelligible words that sounded very much like a mix of curses and your name.

You hadn't noticed that he had removed his hands from his knees until you felt one of them bury in your hair.

His grip got progressively harsher on you but you were loving it.

At one point his thighs snapped closed, trapping your face between his legs and muffling the beautiful sounds he was making.

His back arched abruptly and his other hand gripped the back of the couch in an iron grip as his mouth dropped open in a scream so loud it was absolutely impossible that your neighbours didn't hear it.

You felt him twitch in your mouth and, immediately after, he spurted his warm release down your throat. His body twitched and shook and his chest heaved like he had just finished a marathon. He was so beautiful you wished your eyes could take pictures.

An indefinite amount of time had passed when finally he relaxed the grip of his thighs from your face and of his hand from your scalp.

You clearly saw some of your ripped hair hanging between his fingers when he moved his hand from your head, but you didn't care. You were ready to do that all over again as soon as he asked you to.

He couldn't keep his eyes open and he was having a hard time calming his heartbeat and breathing.

You removed your mouth from around him and he shivered but still he was a sight to behold.

His hair was completely damp with sweat and clinging onto his forehead, cheeks and neck.

Little rivulets of sweat adorned his chest and strings of pearlescent cum decorated his tummy chest and collarbone from his previous orgasm.

He had the most relaxed and blissed-out face you had ever seen with his rosy tortured lips slightly parted and his eyes closed.

But still he wasn't talking.

You started to worry. He was about to slip entirely off the couch so you tried to call his name, but he just mumbled in response, without opening his eyes

You tried to keep him from falling, but with your sore knees and arms you couldn't and, at some point, he fell dragging you down with him and landing with his head on your chest.

You chuckled at his expenses. You had never seen him so fucked-out.

“Jakey?” You whispered after a few minutes, caressing his hair.

“Hmhm” he grumbled in a sliver of voice.

“Are you ok?” You asked him, moving your hand gently down his spine.

“Yeah” he whispered, but he didn't move.

You two laid there a bit more reveling in eachother's presence until you felt him shiver.

“Jake?” You whispered again.

“Yeah?” He answered this time, sounding almost asleep.

“We should take a nice hot bath, what do you think?” You suggested, trying to sit up but failing miserably.

“No” he said, the pout evident in his tone.

“C'mon, we can sleep afterwards” you tried to convince him.

After a little more persuasion and a few giggles from your part, he finally relented and you managed to make him roll off of you. Getting him up wasn't exactly easy, since his legs were shaking with the aftermath of your devilish ministrations.

When finally the two of you were pleasantly immersed in hot water and he was laying with his back against your chest, you started washing the sweat and remnants of that crazy evening off his spent body.

“Are you ok?” You finally asked while you rinsed his hair one last time.

He didn't answer you.

Instead he turned around in the tub and kissed you deeply, caressing your body gently but passionately with his calloused fingers.

Then swiftly, he grabbed your hips and pushed you out of the tub, making you sit on the edge of it with your back against the cold wall and your legs spread open in front of his face.

You gasped and grabbed at his shoulder to steady yourself while you observed him astonished.

You were about to speak but he stopped you, placing a wet finger against your parted lips.

“Remember, angel, the one who laughs last laughs best” he whispered, bringing his mouth closer and closer to your heath.

He was going to get his revenge, and you were absolutely ready for it.

____________________________________

Taglist: @gvfpal @sammyslappers @spark-my-nature @highladyofasgard @sparrowofthedawnsworld @jessicafg03 @doodle417 @hellowgoodbye @ejoygvf @jaketlover @jakekiszkasbabymama @objectsinspvce @indigostreakmorgan @witchofendora @myleftsock @gretavanshmeat @gretasfallingsky @giraffehippy @jennasometimesreads @katiegvf @sinarainbows @laney_gvf @themorningbirds @starcatcherchords @lipstickitty @meetingthestardust @joshskittytickler @livkiszka @twistedmelodies @ignite-my-fire @gvfmarge @writingcold @brujamagik @edgingthedarkness @gold-mines-melting @mindastreamofcolours @blacksoul-27 @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @mapelsyrup07 @klarxtr @takenbythemadness @peaceloveunitygvf @lyndz2names @jazzyfigz @its-interesting-van-kleep @katuschka @fleet-of-fiction @lvnterninthenight @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @hollyco

#greta van fleet #greta van fic #greta van smut #gvf fic #jake kiszka #fanfic #jake kiszka smut #jake gvf #jake kiszka x reader

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bearw-me · 2 days

Note

Hii hope I'm not interrupting.

Can we please have some angel dust with a young sibling reader (everything platonic OF COURSE), they're younger than angel by two years.

Take your time with this one 🌸

you're never interrupting! thxs for request such a cute prompt! i love platonic stuff :,]

𝐒𝐩𝐮𝐧 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐖𝐞𝐛 — 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐜𝐬

𐐒 ft : platonic angel dust x younger sibling!reader, valentino mentioned 𐐒 cw : fluff, mentions of alcohol, swearing, slight angst, angel shoots someone for you 𐐒 summary : general hcs + what angel is like as a big brother 𐐒 note : forgive me that this feels a little long, but i needed to get all this off my chest!

every time the two of you are introduced to someone they assume angel is the younger one (you both correct them)

angel always acts like the younger sibling

by the way you pull up in your car or a cab and peel him from the clubs, annoyed that he's clinging to you drunkenly and hugging you but also relieved that he's safe

him mushing your face around and sobbing about "how much he actually loves you" and "what would he do without you"

Angel always stands up for you, even going so far as to shoot someone just because they said something to you

now that he lives at the hotel, he likes to text you and plan fun "dates" for you guys to do and spend time together

when and if you ask, he always gives you money "okay run along now, go, keep yourself busy or something" while shooing you away

although angel doesn't care that he's in hell, or the messed up situation he's in with Val, he really cares about you being down here

and in his own way, he tries to keep you away from all that stuff

likes when you call him by his actual name: Anthony

the only time you'd probably call him "Angel Dust" is when he tells you to, which is usually at work

and loves that no matter how much he f*cks up, or you do for that matter, you'll always have each other, no matter what

would love doing your makeup or giving you some of his whenever you drop by to visit him

you fight, as siblings do, yelling and throwing things at each other if it gets serious before angel walks out like a drama queen

then that very same night you'd both be sending each other funny videos and pictures as if it never happened

he always apologizes though, like when he sees you the next time in person

he still calls you "kid"

i feel like he'd be prone to fixing you up and dotting on you like a mother. like if you went to a school dance or something he'd help you get ready and fiddle with your hair until he figured it was perfect and would STAY all night

probably cried at any event that celebrated you; like a graduation

tries to be a big brother and not tell you about what happens at work, or how Val owns his soul (you could probably get a bit out of him and be there for his comfort, but he only talks openly about it to cherri and husk)

your big brother is always just a phone call away, like he will literally drop everything he's holding no matter how fragile and find a way to get to you

when you were both younger angel dust was a scrappy little kid, getting into fights with anyone on the playground and chipping his tooth.

always tried to give you the best he could (don't worry, he was never a horrible brother, just a little dramatic at times)

#hazbin hotel #imagines #headcannons #headcanon #hazbin hotel x reader #reader insert #angel dust x reader #platonic relationship #platonic #familial relationship #angel dust x sibling!reader #hazbin angel dust #hazbin anthony #hazbin hotel angel dust #fluff #angst #mentions of alcohol

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scoonsalicious · 2 days

Text

2.2 Major*

Summary: Lily McIntire, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit sexual content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (oral (f-receiving), fingering, edging, squirting)

Word Count: 2.9k

Previously On...: You told Lily off, Bucky offered you a ride home on his bike.

A/N: So, my job decided not to renew my contract for the upcoming year, so I've been pissed off, annoyed and frustrated. Please enjoy this extra part today because I could use the extra love <3. Also, it's smut!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

God, you thought as you held on to Bucky a little tighter than was probably appropriate, he felt fucking amazing. Like a marble statue of a Greek god, come to life. You honestly could not believe how well this evening had ended up going, even after your final discussion with Lily. You’d been worried, after you’d said what you said to her, that Bucky would be upset with you for how you talked to his best friend but you quickly realized that, if he was the kind of guy who agreed with her line of thinking, well, then he wasn’t the kind of guy you would be interested in getting to know better, anyway. Thank goodness that didn’t seem to be the case.

It was colder than you expected for an early September night as you whipped toward the City, and you found yourself pressing into Bucky’s back. You’d been a little disappointed when you saw he’d had a motorcycle instead of a car– it was impossible to actually hold a conversation with him on a bike– but you were more than happy to snuggle up to him like this, instead, and judging by the way his abdominal muscles contracted when you rested your cheek against his upper back, he seemed to be enjoying it, too.

It was about a forty-five minute drive from the bar where you’d met the Avengers to your condo building, and by the time you reached the city limits, it had begun to drizzle. Once Bucky pulled up to your building, it was raining in full force, and the two of you were soaked.

Once you’d both gotten off the bike and secured the helmets, you made a mad dash to the awning of your building. “I’m so sorry,” you said, laughing at how ridiculous you both must look. “If I had known it was going to open up like this, I would have insisted on taking the train.”

Bucky moved a strand of rain-slicked hair away from your face. “I would still have insisted on driving you,” he said with a smile.

You both stared at each other for a moment, and then spoke at the same time: “Can I walk you up?” Bucky asked at the same time you said “Would you like to come up?” You both chuckled.

“I would feel awful, sending you right back out into the rain,” you said as you let the doorman hold your building’s front door open for you both. “Come inside and warm up a little; dry off.”

Bucky swallowed and nodded, following you into the elevator and you noticed him trying, so hard, not to notice the way your erect nipples strained against the wet fabric of your shirt as it clung to your chest.

When you reached your floor, he trailed behind you, gently holding onto the hem of your jacket as he followed you to your door, as if he were afraid of losing you in the hallway. You tried to mentally run through what your condo had looked like before you’d left for the evening. The cleaners had come today while you were at work, and you were fairly sure you hadn’t left anything embarrassing lying around.

You unlocked the door and slipped inside, Bucky close behind. Locking the door behind you, you turned to face him, watching as he studied the main living room of your home. “This is nice,” he said, taking everything in.

“Thanks.” You slipped out of your jacket and hung it up on the hook by the door. “Let me get you a towel,” you offered, moving toward your linen closet.

No sooner had you opened the closet door than the lights in your apartment went out. “Doll?” you heard Bucky call to you from the living room. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you called back, grateful that your emergency candles were also located in the linen closet. “I’ll be right there.”

Bucky looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows of your living room. “Looks like a good chunk of the neighborhood’s out, too,” he said. “Glad we got off that elevator when we did, otherwise, we’d be stuck in there instead of here.”

You felt your cheeks flush as you brought out the towels and a handful of candles. The idea of being trapped in an elevator for an undetermined amount of time with a man this beautiful would not necessarily have been a bad thing. “Here,” you said, handing Bucky some of the candles. “Will you help me light these?”

You and Bucky worked companionably for the next few minutes, lighting the candles and setting them around the living room until you’d created a warm, glowing perimeter. It would almost have been romantic, if it had been done on purpose. You handed Bucky a towel. “Here you go,” you said, then reached for your phone. “Do you mind if I put on some music?”

“Not at all,” he said, rubbing the towel over his hair. “Put on that band you like; the one that plays that song we danced to.”

You smiled. “Yeah, okay.” You navigated to your music player and opened up your Bleachers playlist, putting it on shuffle. You turned the volume down low enough so that you could comfortably talk over it while still listening to the music. “Can I get you something to drink?” you asked, trying to be a good hostess in spite of the current circumstances.

“I’m good,” Bucky said, taking the towel from his head. You had to suppress a snicker– his hair was going in every direction.

“What?” he asked, a small frown playing across his lips.

“Nothing,” you said, trying not to giggle. “You just look like an adorable drowned rat. Come here.” You started walking toward Bucky, and he toward you, until you met each other in the middle of your living room floor. “Let me,” you said, taking the towel from him and running it across his hair again. He bent down to allow you easier access to the top of his head, and when you pulled your hands away, he looked up at you through his lashes, stealing your breath with how beautiful he was in the candlelight.

“Thank you, again,” you swallowed, “for driving me home.” Before he could reply, you stood up on your tiptoes and planted a kiss to the corner of his mouth. The action seemed to catch you both by surprise, because you each froze. There was a sudden shift in the air, a coiled tension; it was like suddenly, you both knew what was about to happen between you. You knew what was going to happen, and that it was inevitable.

“I… don’t ever do this,” you whispered, lips so close to his face that they were fluttering against his skin.

“Me, either,” he told you, his voice gone husky. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“I want to,” you said softly, your voice barely audible. “Really badly.”

“Me, too. So bad.”

You weren’t sure who reached for who first, but in an instant, his hands were on your waist, yours around his neck as your mouths found one another. He tasted like a hint of bourbon as his tongue made its way into your mouth, and you moaned as he pressed his hips against yours.

“Major,” he groaned, moving his lips from your mouth, down your neck, and to the covered peaks of your breasts. He sucked at a hardened nipple through the fabric of your drenched shirt and you arched your back, pressing your flesh further into his mouth. “Fuck,” he moaned.

“Please, Bucky,” you heard yourself whine desperately as he continued to suckle on you through your shirt. “Oh fuck, please.”

He pulled his mouth away from your breast. “‘Please,’ what, pretty girl? You gotta tell me what you want with your words.”

His tone was so seductive, so commanding, that you felt yourself getting wetter by the second. “Please… touch me, Sergeant,” you begged, taking his hand and putting it between your legs. “Everywhere.” You found his mouth with yours once again, and could feel him smirk into your lips as he kissed you.

“When you ask so nicely, doll…” he said, and you felt his hands grasp the hem of your shirt, tugging it up over your torso. You raised your arms above your head to assist him in removing it, and you stood before him, top completely bare.

“Fuck,” he groaned, reaching out a hand to grab and knead at the soft mound of your breast. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

You took a fistful of his shirt in your hand as you kissed him again, gently guiding you both down to the floor until he had himself propped up on one elbow above you. “Off,” you panted, pawing at his shirt, trying to pull it over his head, but Bucky hesitated.

“What is it?” you asked gently, when it was obvious he was reluctant.

Bucky avoided looking you in the eye. “I’ve got… scars,” he said, embarrassment written across his face. “They’re… they’re not pretty.”

You leaned up to kiss him. “Do any of them keep your dick from working?” you asked.

Bucky barked a startled laugh. “...No.”

“Then take your clothes off, Sergeant,” you said, smiling at him. “That’s a direct order.”

“Ma’am, yes Ma’am.” Grinning, Bucky leaned back on his haunches and tugged his shirt over his head. If you’d had a cock, it would have sprung to attention at the sight of his muscles, the six pack that rippled across his stomach, the Adonis belt that pointed to unseen delights still to be revealed. You barely even noticed the ragged lines of scar tissue along his shoulder.

That was, however, until you caught the reflection of the candlelight in the metal of his left arm. That was unexpected, you thought to yourself, but by no means a dealbreaker. You bit your bottom lip as you studied him. Despite the scars and his obvious prosthesis, you couldn’t help but think he was perfect.

You reached down to the buttons of your jeans and began undoing them, desperate to get them off your body and him into it.

“Let me help you, doll,” Bucky said. With swiftness but exquisite care, he rolled your pants down. You lifted your hips to assist him and he gently shimmied the wet fabric off of you, until he was pulling one leg off, then the next, leaving you in just a pair of pink lace panties. You squirmed slightly under his appraising gaze before he hooked his index fingers into either side of the waistband of your underwear and began to–agonizingly slowly– pull them down your thighs.

When he’d moved them all the way down your legs, he fisted the material in his metal hand, bringing it up to his nose and inhaling. “God,” he moaned as he palmed himself through the jeans he was still wearing. “You smell divine, doll.”

His words sent another rush of wetness seeping from you, and you were convinced you were going to leave a puddle on the floor if he didn’t do something to you soon. “Bucky,” you moaned.

Tossing your panties aside, Bucky leaned forward and, placing one hand on each of your knees, slowly spread your legs open until you were fully on display before him. Suddenly self-conscious, you tried to close your legs, but Bucky stopped you with a hungry look. “Please don’t, doll,” he whispered as he looked up at you through his lashes. “You’re so fucking beautiful… I just wanna look at you a minute.”

You closed your eyes and let out a shaky exhale as Bucky positioned himself between your legs, lowering himself down so that he was lying on his stomach, his face mere inches from your center. He ran a hand along the inside of each of your legs, from your knees to your thighs, and you gasped at the difference in temperature and sensation– one soft and warm, the other hard and cold. When he reached the apex, he tucked a thumb on either side of your outer folds and ran them up your slit, opening you to him like a fresh, ripe peach.

“So gorgeous,” he murmured, and you could feel the breath of his words hot against your core. “I need to take a taste, doll,” he whispered, and before you could fully prepare yourself, his mouth was on you. Your hips immediately bucked at the hot contact, his large hands continuing to spread you wide as his tongue explored you.

“Fuck,” you gasped, trying not to vibrate out of your skin with the pleasure of it all. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh my god! Don’t stop.”

Bucky pulled his mouth away from you just enough to murmur “Wouldn’t dream of it, doll,” before diving in again. His mouth was magic as he worked you, from nipping and sucking on your clit, to thrusting his tongue in and out of you, to gently nibbling the sensitive skin of your engorged outer lips. Everything he did was heaven, and you felt your orgasm building with rapid speed.

“Oh, shit,” you cried as his tongue lapped at your weeping hole. “Oh shit, Bucky, I’m gonna cum!”

He pulled his mouth away from you, leaving you gasping at the lack of contact. “Not yet, doll,” he said with a filthy grin. “Not yet.”

He proceeded to play you with his mouth, as if you were an instrument and he was a world class musician, but he wouldn’t let you cum. Every time you got close, he would back off, taking you just far enough before pulling you back from the ledge. It was frustrating the shit out of you, but it was magnificent. You had never been edged so well in your entire life.

Finally, finally, after what felt like hours, it was too much. You needed to cum or you felt like you were going to die. “Bucky,” you cried, pressing the heels of your hands into your eye sockets and feeling the space wet with tears. “Bucky, please! Please, let me cum! I need it, Bucky! Need it so fucking bad!”

His tongue found your clit again, dancing circles over the sensitive nub, and you felt one of his hands let go of you, only to have two of his thick fingers sliding into your entrance with no resistance. He finger fucked you while he sucked on your clit, and the combined sensation, after all the edging, was driving you crazy. “Holy fuck,” you whimpered. “So close.”

Almost as if taking your words as a challenge, Bucky curved his fingers inside of you, dragging them again and again against your g-spot until you were gasping. The pressure was so intense; you’d never felt anything like it before– not once in all your married years had your ex-husband ever brought you anywhere close to where Bucky had brought you in one night.

You were a kettle, about to boil over; a caldera long overdue for its world-ending eruption. You were ecstasy personified, and he hadn’t even brought you to climax yet.

And then, you exploded, screaming his name so loudly you were worried your neighbors would call the police.

It was a release unlike any you had ever felt before– a double shot of pleasure, and you were positive that, for a moment, you lost consciousness, or at the very least, your soul had temporarily vacated your body. When you came back to yourself, Bucky was leaning over your face, grinning from ear to ear.

“Did you know you were gonna do that, doll?” he asked as he bent down to kiss you. You could taste the tang of your arousal on his tongue, along with something else, undefinable and unique.

“D-do w-what?” you asked, your own voice sounding shaky and far away. Your whole body was trembling, the aftershocks of the orgasm pulsating through you.

Bucky lied down next to you, pulling your naked, sweat-slicked body into his, and wrapping his arms around you. “You squirted all over my face, doll! It was the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen!”

You laughed through chattering teeth. “I’ve… ne-never d-d-done that be-before,” you said. “F-fuck.”

“I’ll say.” Bucky nuzzled his nose into your hair. “Are you okay? Do you need me to get you something? A glass of water? A blanket?”

You shook your head. “Ju-just ne-ne-need a mi-mi-minute to c-come b-b-back int-t-to my b-b-b-body,” you said. “H-h-hold m-me? P-p-p-please?”

“Yeah, of course, doll,” he said, pulling you closer into him. He reached up and pulled a throw blanket off of the arm of your couch, wrapping it snuggly around you both, and you felt yourself relax into the warmth of him.

“Y-you d-d-didn’t c-c-cum,” you said, feeling the trembling decrease, but not ready to stop all together. “I’m s-sorry.”

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart,” Bucky said, kissing your head. “Watching you come undone like that? I fucking came in my pants like a goddamn teenager. It was unbelievable.” His tone turned serious. “Did you like it? Was it okay?”

Using all the energy you had left in your body, you turned to face him, noticing the concerned look in his eye in the candlelight. “Th-that w-w-was the s-single b-b-best org-a-asm of m-my entire f-f-fucking life.” You kissed him again, desperately clinging to his forearm to ground you. “Th-th-thank you.”

Bucky smiled. “If you don’t mind, then,” he said, burying his face into your shoulder, “I’d like to give you a couple more before morning, if that’s okay with you?”

“Sh-sh-shit,” you laughed. “Y-y-yes p-please.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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lionlena · 2 days

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Headcanon: If Teresa tried to get Marcus back after years... (MarcusPikexf!reader)

Teresa couldn't believe it. She just got off the train and saw him.

Marcus Pike, her ex-fiancé, stood at the same train station.

She hadn't seen him in almost eight years, but he didn't seem to have aged at all and somehow he looked even better. Teresa smiled broadly.

"Marcus! Oh my god! What a meeting!"

Marcus grimaced slightly, but she didn't seem to notice because she hugged him tenderly.

This made him feel awkward and he took a step back.

"Umm… Hi, Teresa."

"That's really amazing, how are you?" Before Marcus could open his mouth, she already started talking: "I divorced Jane three years ago, it turned out he was cheating on me. Now I'm alone."

Marcus took this information very indifferently and looked at his watch, then at Teresa, who was looking at him as if she was waiting for something. But since he didn't say anything, she took the initiative again.

"Maybe we should go for coffee?"

Marcus wanted to laugh. What was she counting on? That during those eight years, he did nothing but wait for her.

"Listen, Teresa, we probably won't go for coffee."

She looked at him surprised but didn't give up.

"Maybe we can just exchange phone numbers. We don't have to go for coffee." She winked at him. "We can go for a drink."

Marcus tried to be polite and forced a smile, but even Teresa could tell that it was a fake smile. She also noticed that he was constantly looking at his watch.

"Are you in a hurry to go somewhere?" She asked sweetly and blinked her eyes.

She was starting to feel a little frustrated that her charms weren't working on him like they used to.

Before he could answer, he finally saw you and a real big smile appeared on his face.

"Actually, I was waiting for someone." He glanced casually at Teresa, his eyes focused on you, on your beautiful, round pregnant belly, and on the little six-year-old boy running towards him and screaming, "Daddy!"

Marcus said a quick and curt "Sorry" to Teresa. But it was obvious that he wasn't the least bit sorry. He fell to one knee and spread his arms wide.

"Hey, buddy!"

The laughing toddler fell into his arms and wrapped his arms around his neck. Marcus felt a wave of happiness. He stood up holding his son in his arms.

"How was it with your grandparents?"

"I was riding on a pony"

"Wow! You have to tell me everything on the way home."

Teresa was still standing nearby, watching the scene with open eyes. Marcus simply radiated the energy of a perfect dad.

By this time, you had managed to join them. You walked much slower because of your big belly. Marcus immediately kissed you on the lips and used his free hand to tenderly caress your pregnant belly.

"How are my princesses?" He asked with concern.

He hadn't seen you for only three days, and even though he knew your parents would take good care of you, he was furious that he couldn't go with his family due to work.

"All right." You replied with a smile. "We're just hungry."

Marcus chuckled.

"So it's good to have a delicious dinner waiting at home."

"Did you make dinner?"

"Yes, dinner, laundry, and grocery shopping."

Your heart instantly melted and you caressed his cheek tenderly. He was truly the perfect husband.

Teresa grimaced and felt the bitter taste of jealousy in her mouth. This is what she lost. A perfect, caring husband. She finally cleared her throat and that was when you noticed her. You looked at Marcus questioningly. He gave Teresa a blank look and muttered:

"It was nice meeting you, now excuse me… Family duties call."

Before Teresa could get over her shock, he simply wrapped his arms around your waist and started leading you towards the parking lot where he left the car.

You turned back and noticed that the woman looked as if someone had poured stinking water on her.

"Who she was?" You asked out of curiosity.

Marcus shrugged.

"Nobody important."

You weren't going to ask more. You knew your husband and you didn't feel jealous. You knew his eyes were focused only on you.

Yes, I hate Teresa... And writing this made me wildly happy :D

Pernament tag list: @harriedandharassed

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #marcus pike #marcus pike headcanon #marcus pike x reader #the mentalist #teresa lisbon #Marcus deserves the world

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p0mko100 · 2 days

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complacent - feat. itoshi rin

w/c: 2.5k

synopsis : your brother's friend, rin, comes over after a match to analyse their plays together and hang out. you're busy yelling at your teammates in-game when rin comes in to teach you how to properly aim.

info : NSFW, dom!rin x fem!reader, oneshot, brother's best friend au, smut, gamer!reader, pet names (bunny, princess, good/pretty girl), unprotected sex, slight dry humping, swearing, marking/hickeys, slightly jealous rin, feat. gamer friend!nagi

other : this is my first time uploading my fics here hehe, hope you enjoy!

"Nagi, can you properly smoke off A site for me next time?" The annoyance in your voice seethes through each word.

"M'kay but only if you properly defend the site next time" He retorts.

"Fuck you, Nagi." You sigh, "I'll be back, don't start another match without me I'm gonna get some water". Nagi hums in response as you hear the faint sounds of a Reddit storytime through your headset.

You mute your mic before standing up and stretching your legs, your whole body shaking from the sudden movement. The fabric of your t-shirt reaches your mid-thigh as you ease your body back down. The absence of shorts was so freeing, especially in the brisk afternoons of the blossoming spring season. Unfortunately, your door hinges have been broken ever since you slammed it a little too hard. So when you pull the door open wider, the brief thought of your brother and his friend coming back from their football match enters your mind. You sneak a glance from out of your room, searching for any sign that they're still here when you notice your brother's car keys missing from the bowl near the front door.

Grabbing the empty cup in your room, you step out onto the cold floor of your house with your sights on the kitchen pantry with its newly stocked snacks. With a smile creeping on your face, you open the pantry only to be greeted with… Kikkoman soy sauce and an open multi-pack of instant ramen. The disappointment bites into your stomach. ‘I’ll just steal some of his food when he comes back’ your mind is already planning what he might bring home for himself you.

Luckily, you’re prepared for your annoying brother to do annoying things. Pushing past the random assortment of ingredients and sauces you reach into the cupboard for your hidden stash. You grab your snack and turn around to refill your cup with some water when you hear a creak of the floorboards. Fuck.

Your heart picks up and your eyes follow straight to the turquoise eyes of your brother’s friend, Rin. He’s staring right at you, unsettlingly. It’s not like you guys hate each other, nor are you best friends either. He’s just someone your brother hangs out with, but this is the first time you get to really look at him.

Before, you’d just hide in your room as your brother and his friends would come over, semi-afraid of them and also wanting to give them privacy so your brother could do the same when your friends came over. You’ve seen Rin play when you’d go to your sibling’s matches and his name was often passed around as the best player on his team. However, your brother’s expression would grow stiff with a sense of rage when mentioning Rin’s plays. Jealousy, maybe? Now that he’s standing right there for you to see, you feel embarrassed in the presence of such a highly-praised player.

You dare to look up into his mosaic-like eyes and notice how expressionless he is, as if he were a living portrait. For a moment, you really thought he was inanimate until he furrowed his brows and started to watch each part of you. Analyzing each part of your body like you were prey, he stares at you with that same mundane look on his face.

You quickly turn back to the tap and fill your cup with water, now deadly aware of his stare.

“Hey.” He tries to fill the silence between you two, though his attempt yields more awkward tension than before.

“Uh, hi…”

“You’re uh… his younger sibling?” He asks as if he’s never spoken a word until today. His voice is flat but you can tell there's an air of nervousness around the two of you.

You nod as you begin to walk past him.

“Where’d he go?”

“Somewhere to get take out… I forgot where but, uh, yeah…” He trails off.

God, what is with this awkward silence?

You look back before you walk into the hallway to your room and you see him lean his back against the kitchen countertop, staring into the floor and clasping the sides of his cheekbones with his thumb and index. His dark ivy locks falling above his eyes and the way his body shapes himself against the counter - it’s all so… enamoring.

Glancing at his hand on the countertop, you can only imagine the type of training he does to get his veins running up his forearm like that. The man behind all these super goals - this was him. To avoid his eyes finding yours again, you sneak back into your room, door ajar no matter how many times you try to close it, and now you're back to the light of your monitor and the deafening sounds of the game.

Holy shit, she's beautiful.

Rin could barely, fucking, breathe. He knew you were pretty, but he didn't realize you were that pretty. The other members of the team would tease your brother about how they only come over to get a glance at his sister and Rin would scrunch his nose in utter repulse. How could these lukewarm losers ever think of being acknowledged by you? A goddess amongst men. He believed that when the sun hides itself behind the clouds, it's shying away from your radiance. A million lifetimes and yet you exist in his, and oh how lucky he feels to live alongside someone like you.

Almost subconsciously, he walks to your room, his head spinning with all the times your eyes have passed over him during his matches. Whenever he scored, he'd make a quick glance your way, trying to see if you were looking and he was always sourly disappointed when you would be looking at your phone or looking somewhere else. When you were looking, his heart would bounce around his ribcage and his stoic expression would melt into a small smile.

But when you were looking and cheering on for someone else's goal? He'd seethe with malice. His jaw would clench and it didn't matter who had the ball - opponent or not; he'd make sure the next goal would be his.

So, to see you stare at him with your doe eyes, was more than he could take. He watched the way your hair flowed down your scalp, the slight part in your lips, the way your t-shirt covered the parts Rin wanted most, and the scent of lavender in your hair and fresh floral notes on your skin. When his mind started to wander places elsewhere, he had to stop himself from pursuing the thought any further. He wanted so bad to hold you, right there, and feel the way you press against his body. Memorize every part of you.

Before he could process what he was doing, he was already outside your room, leaning against the doorframe. He pushes the door out so you notice him, but your focus is solely on your game. Your legs were perched on your chair and your whole face steeled with concentration. It wasn't until you died, that you noticed he'd been standing out there watching you.

"You suck at this game." Rin scoffs.

What is he doing here?

"And you'd be any better?" You glare back at him, but your eyes start wandering and you have to look back at your monitor before blushing at these unyielding thoughts of him.

"Let me play. You're losing anyway." He walks over to you and you begin to notice yourself critically. You begin to notice your legs being squished up against your body as you play or how your posture is harshly curved into a 'C' shape, so you straighten up and start to fiddle with your hair, desperately shaping it into something a little more presentable. Why should I care? He'd never see me like that anyway.

"Fine, one round but if you lose you owe me ice cream." You barter, he nods in response. Satisfied with this deal, you stand up from your chair and watch as he adjusts the chair for himself.

Once the next round starts, his face changes ever so slightly to concentrate on his player movements. Every swipe of the mouse and touch of the keyboard is intentional when he plays, all while being silent. You can hear Nagi through the headset impressed at, what he thinks is, your kill streak. Rin kills the last two guys in quick precise motions that the opponents begin to accuse you of cheating.

"Y/N are you seriously using Aimbot right now?" Nagi asks, dumbfounded at your sudden spike in gameplay.

Rin looks back at you with this smug, self-confident look and you roll your eyes in response.

"Here I'll show you what you're doing wrong." He pats his thigh, motioning you to sit down in his lap. Your heart starts drumming and you sit down on his left thigh. Flustered, your shaky hands grab on the mouse and keyboard to play the next round.

"Uh, is this okay?" You quietly ask, embarrassed as all hell.

"Mhm." He whispers back into your ear and you start to move around to get to a comfortable spot. Your bare thighs are touching his left leg and you can feel his chin resting above his shoulder. When the next round starts, you play as you normally do.

"Here, aim up more." Suddenly, his hand is on top of yours and he aims your crosshair upwards. He's giving you tips on how to play but all you can think about is the way his hand feels against yours. Rougher, but slender and light. He smells of fresh linen and hints of citrus, his body covering yours completely. His arms, fuck, his arms. Strong and muscular, every tendon feeling taught against his shirt. Your fragile heart could barely take it all in. He was overbearingly beautiful.

"Are you even paying attention?" He asks against your ear and you try to move your focus towards the game. His breath was hot against your skin and you tried hard not to think about what it would feel like to indulge in his lips. You find someone camping at their spawn and you shoot, just like you were told. The round ends with you killing the last enemy and you look at him and smile.

He grabs onto your waist, looks back at you, and whispers, "Good girl". His nose is pressed against yours and you're staring into each other's eyes before you move in a little bit closer to hover your lips above his. Moments pass before he hugs your waist tighter and gently places a kiss against your lips. Pure ecstasy. You'd never imagined that this would ever take place, ever - and yet here you are. Kissing Itoshi Rin. You press yourself closer to him, your arms on his shoulders and around the headrest. Permitting yourself to the delicate and slow kisses he leads with, you close your eyes to memorize each movement. You burn the feeling of his hand against your back and the other caressing your thigh into your mind.

Your body aches for him, and his does too. You bite the bottom of his lip, playfully teasing your tongue into his and you start to feel him poking against your thigh. You smile as you kiss him further and when you release your lips from his, you look at his pretty lashes flutter open when he looks back at you. Ah, fuck.

"Please" you whisper into his ear as you grind up against him a little bit more. That's all he needed to hear to slide your panties down, undo his pants and free his needy cock from his boxers.

"Ready, bunny?" He grumbles into your collarbone as you hum a response. His hands place you on top of him, the slick of your wetness and his pre-cum squeezing onto him. Rin's cock twitches as you take him in with gasps and heavy moans. He reaches inside of you, touching the insides of your walls and eagerly trembling for more. Before you can speak, he's already making quick work of your body and easing you up and down.

"Mmngh- R- Rinnie…" He grunts in response and slaps your ass, warranting a moan and for you to clench around him tighter. The sounds of your skin slapping against each other, paired with your beautiful moans were already edging Rin closer and closer.

His cock felt so good. The way it hit the right spots and the way his hands grasped at your body desperately - he made you feel like you were practically melting into him. "You-re a- all mine, okay bunny?" He teases as your pussy tightens around his length. You moan in response and kiss the side of his neck sloppily.

"Fuck, I'm- hngh, close…" He managed to pant out, exasperated by the feeling of your pussy. "Mm~ pl- please… Rin-rin… ple- ah!" He's already bouncing you faster on him, your head spinning with the way he's fucking you. He groans and marks you from your collarbones all the way down to your tits. A knot begins to tighten inside of you and your moans become more erratic and loud as he continues to fuck your insides.

"Come to me, princess." He moans and repeats against your skin and pulls you closer to feel you release against him. You're so tight and he can barely move against your grip as the both of you cum. His warm liquid fills you up, making you feel all sticky inside. "That's a good girl, hm?" He whispers between pants as he slows down and rides out both of your highs. Fuck, he felt so good.

As you begin to kiss him again, you hear your brother's car rumble into the driveway. Ah, shit. Rin rushes to kiss you one more time before sliding you off of him and replacing his cock with his fingers. Your thighs close around his hand as he reaches inside of you again.

"Rinnie- my brother's~ a- ah, he's- mmngh-" His fingers are moving inside and curling perfectly into the spot he just fucked.

"Open wide for me."

Your mouth is open with your tongue out as he places his fingers on your tongue and inside of your mouth. You lick his cum off clean and he pulls your panties back up before zipping his pants back up too. Rin grabs the tissues from your bedside table and wipes the evidence clean. He kisses your forehead and moves your shirt so your brother won't notice all the marks down your collarbone.

"Yo! What're you doing outside my sister's door?" Your brother questions with a bag of takeout in one hand.

"Watching them play that shitty game. They suck at it, by the way." His gaze lingers on you a little longer before following your brother back into his room. Your pussy is still warm and aching from what just happened and it takes a while for you to realize that your team won and Nagi's already pestering you to respond to him before he queues you two into another match.

a/n: aa this is my first time uploading smut hehe I hope you enjoyed! I'd love requests and ideas for more bllk oneshots/ff's :) I adore rin so much hehehe I hope this was enjoyable for any readers out there!

cc: @p0mko100, please do not reupload or redistribute any of my work.

#rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #bllk x reader #bllk smut #rin smut #itoshi rin smut #itoshi rin oneshot #rin itoshi smut #bllk oneshot #fanfiction #p0mko100

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charlie-lec-stories · 3 days

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80's Fever (Part II) // CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc/Vestappen!Twin

Summary: After the best night of his life, Charles feels that there's an awkwardness that shouldn't be there. What can he do to fix that?

Warnings: Physically violent parenting, childhood trauma.

Author’s Note: A part II for this story was requested, so here it is! I hope you guys like it. Rate: PG.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Charles saw her from across the paddock, her hair flowing as she moved around, taking pictures with some fans and joking around with Max. He wanted to walk up to her, ask her about her day, see how she's been, but whenever he did that she just answered him awkwardly and made up an excuse to walk away. Max would always look at him with pity, running after his twin to check on her. Charles couldn't believe it, but he actually preferred her insulting him to this attitude. They had an incredible night together two months ago and now she couldn't even look him in the eye. He was head over heels for her, he knew that he loved her and he felt how much she loved him when they were together. Still, she walked away. He was conflicted, a part of him wanted to give up, to give her space and try to move on, but another part of himself knew that giving up and letting her go would be the biggest regret of his life.

It was late at night, the paddock was empty and there were very few lights on. The cold breeze of Australia at night made him shiver. It was summer, but still the temperature went down a few degrees at night. Between the silence, he heard a faint melody, something barely noticeable that slipped under the back door of the Red Bull garage. He assumed it was probably her, going over her mistake over and over again. It was a human error, she never made those, but she was human after all, and it landed her P4. It wasn't a bad qualifying, but it was not front row, like the last 4 races. He was well aware that the reason she put so much pressure on herself was because of her father. It was no secret that Jos Verstappen would step over every limit, even legal, to punish his children when they didn't perform perfectly. He saw the bruises more than once, red cheeks, fingerprints on arms or wrists, tear-stained faces after Jos pulled them aside in the middle of a karting tournament and away from the public eye. No one ever did anything but everyone knew, that was probably why the twins were always so angry and violent to everyone, if everyone let them down, why should they offer anything but hate?

"Misschien leer je daardoor autorijden, waardeloze tijdverspilling" (Maybe that'll teach you how to drive a car, fucking worthless waste of time). Charles heard the scream, he didn't speak Dutch, but he recognized Jos voice, so whatever he said couldn't have been good. He tried the back door but it was locked, he started running to the other side to enter through the front door, but then he heard Jos open the back door and walk out, fuming. Charles walked back and went through it without thinking twice. He found her sitting on the floor, curled up against a wall, her hair covering her face. She was sobbing so hard her body started to shake. He ran to her, pulling her into his arms. She could feel it was him when his scent hit her nose, the same scent that she remembered every night, when she closed her eyes and went back to that moment when life was worth living.

"It's okay, mon amour, I've got you". He said as he pressed her against his chest. She had missed that feeling so much, the feeling of his heartbeat against her face. She relaxed into him. They heard the back door open again and they both looked up, ready for another punishment, but it wasn't Jos who walked in.

"zusje, alles goed met je?" (Sis, are you okay?). Max ran to his sister, pushing Charles away and instantly checking on his sister's face, the bruise on her lip already gaining color. "Thank you, Charles. I'll take it from here". He dismissed the monegasque quickly, but Charles wasn't having it, he stood there, frowning. "I said, go".

"The hell I'm going". That caught the twins' attention, so the Golden Boy knows how to curse. "I'm not going anywhere until I'm sure she's alright".

"That's my job". Max started, but Charles interrupted him.

"Because you're doing great at it, no? Look at her! Where were you?". He was angry, he knew that Max let it happen, it was too suspicious that he entered the garage just minutes after the beating happened. "You let this happen!"

"You don't know what you're talking about, so shut your fucking mouth". Max pushed him, a warning along the tone of his voice that things could escalate to something worse.

"Please, stop fighting". They didn't even know how they heard her, she whispered it so softly it was almost imperceptible. But as small as the request sounded, it still made them stop cold. She was so broken, so fragile, so vulnerable.

"We're going to the ER, and I don't want to hear anything else about this". They have never heard Charles speak so confidently in front of them. He helped Y/N off the floor and started guiding her towards the door, Max following close behind.

The drive to the hospital was awkward, the twins were curled up together on the passenger seat of Charles' Ferrari, whispering in dutch. Charles assumed that they were getting their stories straight, because that was what abused children did, plan and lie to protect their abuser. They were probably planning on how to explain that she fell or hit herself with a door. It was driving him insane, picturing Jos hurting her, the image made him tighten his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles white. She was still tearing up between the whispering, and Max kept shushing her, running his fingers through her hair. Charles just couldn't understand how Max could let it happen, they were all almost 27, Max was old enough to stand up to his father. But he also couldn't understand how Y/N could forgive Max, he would feel so betrayed in her place. But there they were, hugging each other next to him, like their lives and sanities depended on it. It was years since he had ever seen them so human, so vulnerable. The night he spent with Y/N was the first time he actually saw her let her guard down, she let him in and it felt like a fever dream to him. Once they made it to the hospital, Y/N was sent to a box while Charles and Max stayed in the waiting room. The Dutch was notoriously nervous. He was uncomfortable, he felt exposed.

"I didn't let it happen". He said out of the blue, and Charles furrowed his brows and looked at him.

"Don't give me that bullshit, that you just casually walked in". The other man just sighed.

"I-". Max cut himself off, unsure if he should share the following information with Charles, but something inside he told him that he could trust the Golden Boy. "You're right, I let it happen". He could feel Charles tense up next to him. "It was better to let it happen than dealing with the alternative".

"What do you mean, Max?". Charles wanted to be angry but the look on Max's face softened him more than he expected it to.

"If we don't interfere with the punishment, he doesn't take off his belt". Max avoided his gaze, but he could see how blue of his eyes got shiner with tears. Max blinked them away, along with the memories of his childhood that still haunted him. "I never told you this".

"Okay". He agreed to keep the secret. But Charles needed to know why. "But Max, why haven't you confronted him? You're a fit guy, I'm sure that you are more than able to defend yourself". He sighed. "Y/N is incredibly strong too. I- I just don't get it. You guys don't have to keep him in your lives. You don't need him".

"He's my father, Charles".

"He's not a father. A father loves you, protects you and treats you with respect". His voice broke at the thought of his own father. "I know because that's the kind of father I had". He placed a hand on Max's shoulder, making the other look at him. "He's nothing more than a sperm donor. You both deserve better".

"You truly are good, Charles... and I mean that in the best way possible".

Two more weeks went by after that night. The twins were obviously avoiding him but he understood. He also noticed that Jos was not around anymore, he hoped that his chat with Max was enough to make the twins draw the limit. After that weekend they went to another race and then were free for summer break. He decided to spend it in Monaco, he wasn't feeling like partying because all he could think about was her and wonder how she was doing. His phone distracted him, a text from his best friend, Joris, popping up on the screen. "Regarde ça", read the text, along with a link address. What did his friend want him to check out? He opened the link, it was an article by Sky Sports.

"Jos Verstappen arrested: The Red Bull twins filed charges.

This afternoon, Jos Verstappen (former Formula 1 driver and father to the twins Y/N and Max Verstappen, current Red Bull Racing drivers and once and twice world champions respectively) was picked up from his penthouse by the Dutch police and arranged by night. The charges against him are "aggravated assault of an own child" and "causing several bodily harm to an own child". The report specifies that the charges were filed by the twins a week ago and their statements included specifics about domestic violence that could be dated from the twins' childhood to the present. The former driver could face up to 12 years of prison, a fine not exceeding 78,000 euros and a protective order was set in place."

Charles couldn't read more, the doorbell ringing through the air, startled him. He walked to the door to find Y/N on the other side. She had a pair of big sunglasses on, but the edge of black eye could be seen below them. Without exchanging a word, he let her into his apartment. She sat on the couch, her hands on her lap and her gaze down. Charles walked up to her and sat down by her side. They stayed in silence for a few minutes, he was afraid of asking, but he needed to know what happened. She broke the silence.

"I don't know if you know... but Max and I filed charges against our fath- against Jos". She was still not looking at him but he could tell by her shaky breath that she saw him nod his head at her. Since she didn't add anything else, he took her chin in his fingers softly and made her look at him. As carefully as he could, he removed the sunglasses, exposing the purple mark under her left eye and over her cheekbone. He suck in a short breath at the sight.

"Salopard". (Scumbag). He let out under his breath. "Mon cœur, what happened?" (My heart). She let a few tears drop and he whipped them away gently.

"He found out that we went to the hospital the other day. He was looking into our credit cards' movements, and he found the charge from the hospital. Got really mad. He-". But she cut herself off with a sob and he didn't need her to keep talking to know what happened. Instead, he pulled her to him and over his lap, hugging her close. She flinched, the still fresh marks of the belt on her lower back, and Charles softened his grip. He wanted to keep her there with him forever. She pulled away, their faces close and she could smell the mint on his breath.

"I love you". His eyes closed, the words murmured against her lips and that was all she needed to hear.

"Ik ook, Schat". (Me too, babe). He kissed her, like he did that night, with the same love, the same passion. Things heated up quickly, but unlike their first time, there was no urgency this time. He took his time with her, to love her like she deserved, to kiss every part of her body, to show her what love feels like. She chanted his name like a prayer and he knew that he could hear that for the rest of his life and never get tired. He never loved anyone like this and for once, she let herself admit that it was always him, always Charles, even when she denied it, even when she pushed him away, it was always him. No matter what, they would always fall there, in this moment, where nothing mattered but them. He was her good boy, the one that showed her that there was kindness out there, that the world could be a wonderful place, that life was worth living and that the hand against your cheek could be gentle and warm. There, in that couch, underneath him and safe in his arms, she saw herself happy, for the first time.

"Tu es l'amour de ma vie". (You are the love of my life). He whispered on her neck, then he landed a soft kiss under her ear. She closed her eyes, her hands going to his back to press him against her tighter.

"De mijne ook, Golden Boy". (Mine too).

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Okay, I'm alive. Sorry for being MIA for so long, I've been with literally zero energy to edit anything. I have a hell lot of stories to edit, I'll see what else I can upload. This was a request made by @bloodyymaryyy some time ago. I hope you like it and you guys enjoy it too!.

I'll be slowly taking some requests. I have another one that I'll try to publish soon. If you have any requests, leave them in the asks and I'll do them when I have the time!

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x reader

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 1 day

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Lets go! Winter soldier!bucky goes on a mission with y/n, it is her first mission. Hydra is obviously sick for taking in you, a easily startled teen. winter soldier orders her to stay in Hydra's vehicles because he doesn't want y/n to get hurt<3 You kept hearing about him at Hydra, of course you would want to stay next to him and try to not look weak!

This might not be the type of requests you usually receive, please tell me in case you're not okay with it. Have a great week!

Trying To Protect You » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Winter Soldier x Teen!Female Reader

Summary: You go on your first mission with the Winter Soldier, but he’s trying to protect you at the same time.

Warnings: Fluff, language, HYDRA, violence, brief mention of blood, use of nicknames

Age of reader: 16 years old

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵 also I imagined this took place during Captain America: The Winter Soldier.

A/N #2: This is different from what I normally write so I decided to give it a try. I used Google translate for the Russian translations. I apologize if I got anything wrong.

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.

You jumped at the sound of your cell’s door opening. Brock Rumlow walks in your cell and grabbed your bicep with a bruising grip, pulling you up from your spot on the bed.

“Wh-Where are you taking me?” You asked him nervously.

“Pierce wants to talk to you.” Brock says.

Brock takes you to the room where they do experiments on you, forcing you to sit down in the chair. Brock went to strap your arms and legs down to the chair, but Pierce stopped him.

“Restraints aren’t necessary this time.” Pierce says.

Brock nodded and stepped off to the side. You nervously looked up at Pierce, waiting for him to tell you why you’re there.

“As you know, your skills have been improving since the day you got here, fighting wise.” Pierce approaches you and crouches down in front of you. “From what I understand, you’ve made a great impression on the Winter Soldier. He told me that he’s impressed with your skills, but I’m sure he told you that.” He says.

You nodded your head, waiting for him to continue.

“So I’ve been thinking…” He stood up straight and took a couple steps back from you. “You’re ready for your first mission.” He says.

“Really?” You asked.

“Yes. You’re joining the Winter Soldier on his mission.” Pierce tells you and began walking towards the door. “You’re leaving in a half hour.” He says before the door closed behind him.

You sat there for a moment, thinking about what you’ve heard about the Winter Soldier. You know that he’s one of HYDRA’s best assassins and he has a metal arm for a left arm. He’s also the one who’s been training you. Your thoughts were interrupted when a HYDRA agents gave you a mission suit to put on, along with combat boots. Another agent put a bullet proof vest on you. Then you followed the agents out to the vehicles. You smiled when you seen the Winter Soldier as you got in one of the vehicles. He nodded at you as he got in the vehicle, sitting next to you. Moments later, the Winter Soldier and other agents got out of the vehicles. You were following suit, but you were stopped by the Winter Soldier.

“Stay in the car.” He says.

“But-” The Winter Soldier shut the car door before you could get another word out.

You sighed and watched from the tinted car window. Your senses were telling you that you should be out there helping him. You know you should obey his orders and stay in the car, but he’s part of your team and you need to help him. You opened the center console and found a gun and bullets. You loaded the gun and got out of the vehicle. You located a target at shot at him, but missed. An agent turned around and seen you. He went to walk towards you, but the Winter Soldier stopped him.

“Я п��лучил ее.” The Winter Soldier said to the agent in Russian.

He gently grabbed your arm and pulled you to the side.

“I told you to stay in the car.” He says sternly.

“I know, but my senses told me that you needed help.” You said honestly and looked down, feeling ashamed.

“I get that you’re just going with what your senses are telling you, but I don’t want you to get hurt.” He says.

You opened your mouth to say something when a bullet came flying towards you two. The Winter Soldier grabbed you with his metal arm and held you against him while using his right hand to shoot at whoever shot the bullet at the two of you. The sound of the gun going off startled you. Your hands grasped onto his tactical vest, holding it tightly.

“This is the reason why I told you to stay in the car.” He says.

“Ok, but Pierce said this is my mission too and I intend on helping you.” You say.

He sighed, not wanting to argue with you.

“Fine, but you stay by my side, understand?” He says.

“I understand, Soldat.” You say.

You kept your word and stood by him. Maybe you weren’t as ready for a mission as you thought, because you jumped almost every time you heard a loud noise that wasn’t a gun. The Winter Soldier noticed how jumpy you were and grabbed your arm, running away from the scene. He took you to an alley where it was calmer and quieter for you.

“I’m going to say something and I want you to listen, ok?” He says.

You looked at him and nodded your head.

“When we go back out there, I want you to get back in the car where it’s safer. That’s an order, soldier.” He says.

“But-” You stopped talking when he gave you the look, the dad look. “Yes, Bucky.” You mumbled, loud enough for him to hear.

You’re the only person in HYDRA who calls him Bucky. You learned his name your first year after being kidnapped by HYDRA.

“I don’t want you to get hurt.” Bucky puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I also want what’s best for you. Do you understand?” He says softly.

“Yes, I understand.” You say.

He poked his head out from the alley, making sure the coast is clear for you to go straight to one of the vehicle.

“Coast is clear. Follow me.” Bucky says.

You followed closely behind him. You still jumped at the noises, but you were fine as long as you were close to Bucky. He opened the car door and you got in the vehicle. You turned around to see him holding his hand out.

“Give me the gun.” Bucky says.

You pouted and handed him the gun. He continued to hold his hand out and gave you the dad stare.

“I know you have extra bullets and don’t even try to lie and say you don’t.” He says.

You sighed and got the extra bullets out of your pocket and put the bullets in his hand, still pouting cause you want to help him.

“Soldiers don’t pout.” Bucky states. “If you want to help me, you can look out the window and keep an eye out for me, ok?” He says, trying to reason with you.

“Ok.” You say quietly.

Bucky kissed your forehead and closed the car door, going back to the mission. As you were keeping an eye out from your position in the car, everything looked like it was going smoothly. That was until a bullet shot through the front windshield. You screamed and covered your head, ducking to the car floor. Bucky’s enhanced hearing picked up your scream and he immediately ran to the car, opening the car door and seen you shaking on the car floor.

“Hey, you’re ok.” He says softly.

You uncovered your head and looked up, seeing Bucky. You practically launched yourself into his arms. Bucky securely wrapped his arms around you and pulled you out of the car. He gently put your feet on the ground and grabbed your hand, quickly taking you somewhere safe.

“Are you hurt?” Bucky asks, checking you for obvious injuries.

“No. I’m just shaken up is all.” You tell him.

Bucky’s facial expression softens when he seen a cut on your forehead with blood coming out of it, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked confused.

Bucky continued to look at the cut on your forehead, making sure it’s not deep. You reached your hand up to your forehead and felt something wet.

“Am I bl-bleeding?!” You asked, beginning to freak out.

“Just a little bit.” He says as he continues to examine it.

You took your hand off your forehead and seen blood in your hand, making your eyes widen.

“Hey, look at me.” He coos. “You’re going to be fine.” He says softly.

“But I’m bleeding.” You say.

“Yes you are, but you’re going to get patched up when we get back to base.” He says.

Bucky pulled you in for a hug to calm your nerves which helped a lot. After a moment, he pulled away from the hug, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“You ready to go back out there?” Bucky asks.

“Yes.” You nodded. “Let go kick some ass!” You say.

Bucky gave you the dad look once again when you said a curse word. He doesn’t like it when you say curse words.

“Sorry.” You mumbled.

Bucky just chuckled and shrugged it off. He pulled a gun out of the holster, loading it with bullets and gave it to you.

“Stay by me and shoot when I say to, got it?” He says.

“Yes, Bucky.” You answered.

“Alright. Let’s get back out there, doll.” He says with a smile and patted your shoulder.

After the mission, you were dreading what Pierce was going to say or do to you. You were looking down at your feet as you were walking past him, but he stopped you in your tracks by grabbing your arm and pulled you towards him, making you stumble.

“Mission Report, soldier.” Pierce commands, looking down at you.

“Successful.” You inform him, lying through your teeth.

“I hope you’re telling the truth cause you know the consequences.” He says.

“Yes, sir.” You say.

“You’re dismissed.” He let go of your arm. “Rumlow, escort her to her cell.” He says.

Brock nodded and grabbed your bicep with a bruising grip like he did earlier and escorted you to your cell. He shoved you in your cell, making you trip over your own feet and fall. Luckily you landed on the bed and not the hard concrete floor. You got cleaned up and changed. You sat on the bed, holding your knees against your chest. You jumped at the sound of the cell door open and close. You relaxed when you seen Bucky. Bucky sneaks in your cell to keep you company when he’s able to.

“Hey, kid.” Bucky says, taking a seat on the bed in front of you.

“Hey, Bucky.” You say quietly, loud enough for him to hear.

“How’re you feeling after your first mission?” He asks.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged your shoulders. “What’s there to feel?” You say.

Bucky nodded in agreement.

“I want you to understand something.” He starts. “When I give you orders during future mission, I expect you to follow through with them. I don’t want you to get hurt.” He says.

“Ok. I’ll listen better next time.” You say understandingly.

Bucky smiles and patted the bed next to him. You moved closer to him and he wrapped his arms around you, giving you a loving hug.

“I also want you to understand that I’m trying to protect you.” He says, kissing the top of your head.

“I understand.” You looked up at him. “Thank you for protecting me.” You say with a smile.

“You’re welcome, kiddo.” Bucky smiles down at you. “Get some sleep. You need it after the day you had.” He says.

You snuggled yourself against his side, slowly falling asleep. Knowing that Bucky is there to protect you made it easier for you to fall asleep. By the end of the day, Bucky just wants what’s best for you.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

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florenceafternoon · 14 hours

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━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

Some more AUs I've been loving. I'm trying to alternate between AU and canon verse rec lists so bear with me. Remember that if you like a fic you should definitely let the author know as such.

For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries on ao3.

theogony by @clare-with-no-i

The trip that Lily Evans expects to go on is the annual pre-dissertation jaunt to Athens with the rest of her Classical Civilizations PhD program. The trip she does not expect to go on is to 479 BCE, right on the cusp of one of the most important battles in the Greco-Persian war. Now, she has to navigate antiquity as she tries to find her way back to the 21st Century, God—or gods—help her.

James wants to win this war. No, James needs to win this war. He is a man of honor and duty, and even if it means dying a gruesome, bloody death, he will go down in history as one of Athens's great warriors. He will suffer no distractions; not even beautiful ones who speak strangely and refuse to listen to his orders.

-- OR: The Outlander-Meets-Ancient-Greece Jily AU that no one asked for Maya dreams of.

I can't believe it took me this long to read this fic but OH MY GOD!! Clare's writing is phenomenal, I've known this for a while now, but THE DEDICATION TO HISTORICAL ACCURACY, I'm so impressed. If only I could put even half that amount of effort into my major essays for school. EVERYONE GO READ THIS NOW

Sweathearts' Special by @tinyluminaryzombie

What happens when your coffee shop nemesis, asks you to pretend to be a couple?

Or "I’ve been staring at the stupid cupcakes for the past hour, and they look way too good. Anyways, would you be willing to join forces and pretend to be together for the free cupcake and coffee?”

Welcome to Pettyville by @women-inthe-sequel

When Lily Evans accidentally sends a text to the wrong number, she isn’t expecting to find the right person behind it. She can’t stop talking to Prongs. The only thing is, Prongs can’t stop talking about the girl in his class. What could go wrong, other than the number?

A love square but it's just the same two idiots

Tall Dark and Glasses by @jamesunderwater

Tall Dark and Glasses (or TDG as he is more affectionately known) is the mysterious, painfully good-looking stranger who has been frequenting Lily's favourite coffee shop for months now. But despite having an embarrassing acronym for him, Lily, a burned-out STEM major, is too comfortable being a wallflower to go up to him herself. Thank god for playing cards, I guess.

coffee shops and copious amounts of sugar by @mystinkysocks

James decides to finally start revising, the coffee shop he attends introduces him to someone new!

As someone who spends an ungodly amount of time studying in public (at cafés and libraries), all I dream of is to one day live out my very own coffee shop AU

Unlicenced by @ohmygodshesinsane

Lily Evans begrudgingly agrees to get in the car with classmate and sometime-foe James Potter and his not-quite-earned P-plates after a particularly rubbish day.

Drop-Off also by @/ ohmygodshesinsane

James Potter takes Lily Evans home, and wants to make something clear.

Disclaimer that they’re Australian in this AU. You guys don't understand how much Lily Evans means to me. I want to give her a hug.

pretty, pretty boy by rosiemary0 (on ao3)

Pretty face, with golden brown eyes and strong cheekbones (one of which is adorned with a smudge of charcoal). Pretty hands—very, very pretty hands, Lily’s thoughts interject—which hold a jar each, one with water and the other paintbrushes.

Or the one where James is an artist and Lily hates socialising.

I'll Manage by @kaymardsa

James and Lily fall in love during the war.

In which Lily runs a refugee camp and James is an ex-sniper

I can't remember if I've recommended this fic already but again I recently re-read it and wanted to share

'Tis the Fucking Season also by @thequibblah

Six-year absences. Yearly photograph burnings (figuratively). Low-cut tops. Two nosebleeds. Little red notebooks. The Past, with a capital P. The desire to pour your heart out to strangers (maybe pathologically). The desire to do unspeakably bad things to one James Potter. These are the ingredients that make up Lily Evans's holiday season.

Shelby the cabbie is in for a fucking ride.

I have been searching for this fic for two months and nearly gave up. An absolute classic that everyone should read!!

Two's a Crowd also by @/ thequibblah

Regency AU in which "the only thing Lily Evans can share with the Earl of Devon is a healthy dose of mutual dislike."

In Search of Something More by @kay-elle-cee

In the sunlit garden of her sister’s home, Lord Potter had promised Lily a life of her own design, with minimal expectations—her presence at community events, companionship, and an heir. As the two stumble into the routine of marriage and work to make a life together at Stinchcombe Hall, unsolicited feelings provoke each to start wondering if this is merely a marriage…or if it could be something more.

No, I will not shut up about this fic. Anything that Kelsey writes is bound to be amazing but this one holds a special place in my heart. Note that this is an ongoing fic though. I tend to recommend completed works but this one is too good not to include.

Pinkest Bluestocking of the Ton by @wearingaberetinparis

Dearest Reader, the ton are abuzz with the latest gossip, and so it is my honour to impart to you the news that the Duke of Peverell has returned to London at last! A year after setting off on his tour of Europe, Lady Peverell's son has returned and rumour has it that his mother is preparing for the most joyous of occasions: a late summer wedding that sees her son wed the next Duchess of Peverell. It is my sincere hope that you have stored a bottle of wine for this most delightful of upcoming events for if ever there were a more determined mama, this writer is Icarus and this society paper has been scorched for flying too close to the sun.

A Jily Regency Romance inspired by Shondaland's "Bridgerton".

Again this is an ongoing fic, but it's too good not to include in this rec list! I haven’t caught up with all the chapters yet but I love the story so far!

A Heart of Coal also by @/ wearingaberetinparis

They say fortune favours the bold, yet Lily Evans was given her death sentence at seventeen. As soon as midnight strikes on the eve of her eighteenth birthday, her heart will turn to coal. Gryffindor knight James Potter, however, is the last to accept such a fate. For while Lily Evans’ curse foretells her death, his foreshadows a life without his unrequited true love at his side.

Fairytale AU in which the love is requited they're just idiots

Three Lemons and a Dragon by @thelighthousestale

Once upon a time, there lived a Prince named James who had to save his father's Kingdom by getting married. One day an older woman gifts him three lemons that will lead him to his true love.

Dillweed in a Fancy Metal Can by @eastwindmlk

When Lily gets dragged to a Renaissance Faire, she reluctantly agreed to go to the jousting event where she is pulled into the show against her will, or is it?

Lily represents me

Queen Foxtail also by @/ eastwindmlk

Once Upon A Time...

There was an arrogant prince who turned down every suitable match and drove his parents to do something drastic. Marry him off to the next merchant that steps through their gates.

across the universe by rcdwings (on ao3)

“So, you’re saying that in these other worlds, James Potter and Lily Evans exist, too?”

She hadn’t expected to hear that, hadn’t even thought about it that way. She was too busy thinking about if in those other worlds, she and her friends could be seventeen and free instead of the war torn teenagers they were. Now that he’d put it that way, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander.

“I would assume so,” she swallowed. “Not sure what we would be like, though.”

A beat, then a soft hum. “Anything,” he smiled at her, “There are countless worlds, right? We could be anything.”

only love can hurt like this by @fireblts

Lily doesn’t quite know everything, but it feels pretty close.

The main thing she still doesn’t get is soulmates. Love doesn’t seem like something that should be painful. Or rather, love seems like it’s painful enough on its own without any help.

Soulmate AU - whenever your soulmate is hurt or in pain, you can feel it too.

Soulmate AUs are my comfort genre of fics. I haven't been feeling to well lately and rediscovering this fic was a delight

The Librarian of Hogsmeade Village by @ohmygodshesinsane

Lily's work as a librarian in the small village of Hogsmeade has kept her occupied for the past six years, forever keeping the wheels of the town on the track. As the holidays approach, she prepares to settle in with a nice mug of tea and a well-thumbed old book. When a new resident and his son arrive at her weekly story-reading, with cheeky smiles and big hearts, those plans are tossed out the window in favour of chasing love, for once - not escaping it.

Lily living the cozy life of my dreams. I think it's well known by now that I love reading about single parents and well James with his baby boy always puts a smile on my face.

Spitting Image by @charmsandtealeaves

James Potter always knew he wanted to build a family, he just hadn’t found the right person to build it with - yet. Freezing his sperm at Gringotts Sperm Bank was a no-brainer really. He’d have children when he found the right person, and now he had an insurance policy. Then Lily Evans walked into his place of work with her son - the spitting image of him.

linking this art that the talented @constancezin drew inspired by this fic

Every time I see that Ray has updated, reading the new chapter becomes the highlight of my day

The Stag Prince Across The Sea also by @/ charmsandtealeaves

The realm of Hogwarts had lived for decades in a carefully negotiated harmony between the leaders of the four clans. However, when the time came for son to marry daughter, the Slytherin King refused to offer his daughter's hand to any of the other grand houses’ suitors. As the Slytherin King departed the shore, bound for the ship that would allow him to escape across the Green Sea, he cast a curse on the great families.

“Let ye be marked. Marred by tooth, hoof, and claw. May your sons never be fit for any bride!”

Slytherin invoked an ancient magic, which transformed each family's eldest son into creatures under the light of the full moon. The Kings searched far and wide for a cure to no avail while trying to keep secret the wrong that had been done to them. Years passed and with them grew a sense of unrest, a kingdom on the precipice of collapse...

what love is, I think by @potterandevans-blog-blog

It's James Potter's birthday, his nineteenth to be exact. Some people, if they're lucky, find a tattoo on their back on their nineteenth birthday, a tattoo that can help them discover their soulmate. And if the antlers on his back are anything to go by, James might just have a soulmate of his own out there, somewhere.

oil be there for you by @abby10fanfic

Texting/Social Media AU: Lily and James haven't spoken for 2 years. But that's all about to change thanks to Peter and his involvement in an essential oil pyramid scheme. Featuring boss babes, toxin-free lifestyles, binding contracts, and a very oily journey.

#if you're like me and check the jily fic tag nearly every morning you've probably read most of these already #but I just wanted to share my recent favourites #lily evans #james potter #jily #jple #james x lily #lily x james #jily fic rec

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