#why would he need to time jump instead? im not sure

[dongshancai]

lovely runner hasnt even ended yet but i petition a season two alternate universe where SUNJAE time jumps instead

[simpjaes]

HYPER-SEXUAL (s,jy)

If there’s anything in life that Jake wants, it’s to fuck. All day, every day, it’s on his mind. He fantasizes constantly, watches porn every free chance he gets, and ultimately has grown bored of his own hand to satiate his need. or the one where jake is inexperienced, incredibly perverted, and borderline addicted to sex but cannot, for the life of him, land a girl.

leave feedback and reblog to give jake another boner. 

minors do not interact. 

WORDCOUNT― 13.8k

PAIRING― jake sim x afab reader

CONTENT― smut, inexperienced but pervy and dominant jake, he kind of has an addiction to jerking off, im not joking like he has a boner every twenty minutes it’s probably a medical issue but, reader is really sex positive and lets jake go absolutely insane on her

NOTE― not proof read in the way it needed to be.  disclaimer: this is straight up just porn. it had a plot at one point but i deleted all of it and wrote this instead. also this is posted on my other blog [@ncteez] for mark lee. yes, i wrote it for both of them bc they both fit the shoe ok? ok.

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― jake isn’t submissive– just a loser, loads of masturbation, also loads of loads lmfao, jake’s dick is 8 inches in this one, public humiliation, dirty talk, teasing, pussy eating / face sitting, mentions of free use, unprotected sex, wayyyy way too much cum, raw grinding, attempts at deep throat, accidental face fucking, finger fucking, suffocation, riding, squirting, implications to the fact that orgasms are not the end of the fic bc they just keep going, some say they’re still fucking to this day. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Feels so good! Harder! Fuck m-” 

Jake slams his laptop shut in an exasperated sigh. Frustrated, annoyed, fucking horny. 

Always horny. To the point that nothing excites him anymore. Not his hard-on being palmed at by his own hand, not the make-shift pocket pussy he’s made out of household objects, not the porn on page one or on page seventy-three. 

Honestly, even as hard as he is now, it’s arguable that he could just start punching his cock and he’d still remain in this state until something changes. And you know what sucks more than not being able to get off? Being hard so constantly that it’s just a state of living at this point. 

It’s sad. He could be washing caked ketchup off of a plate and his cock would still lend a little jump. A reminder that his hand is no longer enough. A fucking threat that if he doesn’t sink into a pretty hole soon, he might as well just kill himself. 

The idea doesn’t seem too bad anymore, as he lays flat on his back with his cock in hand on his messy sheets. He stares up at the ceiling with another long-winded groan, wondering why he has to have such an insatiable libido and probably twice as much stamina. If he could just get off he’d have at least a little bit of time in his day to feel normal before it takes hold of his brain again. 

It’s the fact that he’s grown entirely numb to his own hand and feels like he’s going crazy because he hasn’t been able to hook-up with anyone in nearly a year. Porn is boring, he swears he’s seen just about all of the good, bad, and bizarre. Post nut clarity barely exists because there is no clarity by the time he finally gets that hard-to-reach nut. Bad luck, maybe. Awful fucking miserable luck? That’s more fitting. 

For the sake of the girls in this city, perhaps it’s good that he can’t manage to land a hook-up. Surely they’d be unable to walk by the time he gets his fill, that is if he manages to get a fill at all. And it’s gotten to the point that Jake has almost entirely given up on finding a girl at all. One that’s willing to put up with his near-constant need to get his dick wet, anyway. 

Almost given up.

A thought crosses his mind as he lazily palms himself with a bored sigh, knowing he’ll end up locked up in an asylum somewhere if this doesn’t stop. The voice of Jay in his head doing little to make his cock soften, which is…not something Jake is proud to admit.

“Dude, you gotta put a stop to this shit. This is your third laptop this year!” Jay had said to him. “It’s only June!”

Maybe Jay was right, and maybe Jake should have downloaded the new app that was mentioned shortly after the scolding rather than immediately going to another, even more, shady porn site. “Heard this one was really good.” Jay had advertised. “Even got Jungwon laid.” 

Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt to try another app despite the immense amount of failure Jake has already faced regarding previous attempts with other platforms. After all, if it got Jungwon laid, surely it could get him laid too. 

Maybe this one really is better.

And at the end of the day, Jake does download the app. After all, creating a profile is easy, finding a girl though? 

We’ll see.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Ah. Okay. Nice.

Jake stays glued to his phone all night. He really had no hope that this app would offer him anything more than what the others did. But, oh. 

The app allows specific features, most of which are not aimed towards users looking for a relationship. Dick and body sizes are out in the open, there’s sections you can fill out regarding what you’re looking for in a sexual partner, how often you’re willing to see said partner, and if you’re looking for a regular fuck or a one time fuck. 

Safe to say, Jake’s profile went a little something like this: 

you can call me jake, im 24. just looking for a girl either for regular visits or a one night stand that’s willing to deal with a guy who literally suffers from chronic-boner syndrome.

LOOKING FOR: Female PREFERENCE: One Time Only, Occasional Meetups, On-call, Regular meetups, Permanent Friends-With-Benefits, Secret Meet, Virtual Meet, Audio Meet, Rebound C…[Click to see more] PARTNER REQUIREMENTS: N/A SIZE REFERENCE: 8 ½” hard, 4” soft, 5.6” circumference SEXUAL INTERESTS: Vanilla, Free Use, BDSM, Begging, Breeding, Dom/Sub, Dominatrix, CBT, Role Play, Public Humiliation, Edging, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Phone Sex, Virtual Sex, Group Sex, Humiliation, Cock Play, Cum Dump, Religion, Raw, Multiple Orgasms, Androgyny, Genital Piercings, Older Women, Body Art, Wax, Anal, Financial Domina...[Click to see more]

NOT INTERESTED IN: Cuckolding, Voyeurism OTHER: im not very experienced in most of these, i just watch a lot of porn

Embarrassing? Yeah, probably. 

Looks like a lot of women are into that though if his inbox is anything to go by, anyway. With him checking the app every few minutes to find ten new messages? Yeah, they’re feeling him. 

He can only imagine what the fuck Jungwon had on his profile to actually land a hook-up. Couldn’t have been any worse than his own, after all, Jake is desperate and so was Jungwon at one point. 

Apparently girls like desperate guys. 

Message after message, degrading comments and praise, all from either women clad in leather or sweet looking church girls who must have the app hidden deep within their phones. There’s barely anyone in between those two categories, actually. 

“Hi baby boy, you looking for a sugar mama?” 

“ur dick really that big? lol, what do you even mean by ‘chronic boner syndrome’?” 

“you’re so desperate to get laid, might as well just doxx yourself at this point…please.”

Arguably, these women are very forward and he has a great time sifting through the ones he’s interested in. Scrolling through all of these messages….does not help his case regarding his insatiable need to fuck something either so, naturally, he’s also 100% jerking off the entire time he’s doing this.

Still, never quite able to reach the orgasm he needs by this point.

Up until there’s a message that catches his attention. No degrading, no insults, no borderline-too-kinky insinuations. Which, given, Jake probably shouldn’t have selected the majority of the kinks just to pull more girls, but he did. 

And upon reading the message, he almost doesn’t know if this girl is real. 

“High libido, no girls around to help you out, I take it? Rough.”

One look at her profile spikes even more interest. Her sexual interests include a list of things he wishes he didn’t fit. But he does, though he’d never admit it. Inexperienced men, losers, virgins, micro-penis, big penis, praise (receiving), body worship–

Oh.

Fuck yeah.

He responds quickly, already feeling the orgasm within him bubble up as he tries to pretend he doesn’t go on a war path of responding to everyone after you, but still. Your message box with him remains in his mind as he awaits the response to his message of “you looking to help me out?” 

Every ping on his phone afterwards makes his cock twitch more, makes it dribble out little beads of pre-cum with each pass of his palm, only for him to sigh out of frustration that it’s just another person that wants to devour him whole. Which, he’ll take what he can get if his first choice never responds but still. He wants to get off to you.

He finds himself on your profile more often than anyone else’s too, looking at the same three photos you’ve posted, noting how you don’t seem super active on the app, but active enough to find him by some beautiful grace of God. 

You’re kind of perfect, honestly. Fairly mundane compared to most of the women in his inbox, but cool nonetheless. He can tell you have an eye for fashion but it seems to be more geared towards your real life self rather than the secret fetish/kink app you’ve got downloaded.

And that’s the thing. Most of these women, beautiful or not, are dressed in their best sexual attire just to message a possible fuck, while during their daily lives they probably wear conservative dresses and pant suits. Which….arguably that’s kind of hot. Then again, what isn’t hot to him these days?

You though. You have normal pictures posted just like he does. Your tits aren’t out, your legs aren’t open, you don’t have a pile of sex toys behind or beside you and yet still your pictures turn him on more than those who do. Insane how his cock twitches at just these three photos, fucking insane how he grows a near instant obsessed thinking about how you…uh, deal with the losers you seem to be looking for.  

Then again, maybe it’s the mystery of what’s under your clothes, or what’s in your stash of sex toys. Oh, whatever you’re hiding has got be so fucking hot. Naturally, he groans at the amount of sexuality you barely give. Thinking far, far too hard about it all, given the circumstances. 

Don’t get him wrong, he can get down with the hoes. In fact, he very much wants to get down with a hoe. But man, the way you stand out because you’re somehow….boring compared to everyone else?

Please.

Fucking pretty please, let him in between those thighs. 

And just as he scrolls again through your photos, that long-awaited orgasm hits him like a brick.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

A mere two days later you find yourself in the inbox with the self-proclaimed boner-god. He’s since proven his size with photos involving different objects beside said penis, and even a video or two of his frantic hands jerking off to you. 

Ah, he’s kind of perfect if you think about it. At first you thought that it was just roleplay for him or something. Where he plays a guy who can’t get enough, though he clearly probably does. It wasn’t until you were woken up at four in the morning with him spamming your inbox that you suddenly realized this dude is actually as desperate as he seems. 

Normally, being spammed awake by your phone pinging consistently would bother you. But goddamn was he needing it. Just three hours before now it was mostly casual conversation with him, albeit about hooking-up, but still. The two of you agreed to determine on the following day if you were compatible enough for a meet up. He said goodnight to you, and you said it back. 

Then you woke up to three dick pics, one voice note with a borderline pathetic apology (only because you could still hear him going at it), and then like fourteen messages of him trying to wake you up intentionally. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: You awake?

Dick pic #1. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: You’re so pretty, sorry lol

Dick pic #2 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Wake uppppppppppp! 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Please? :(

Dick pic #3, precum smeared across his fingers as he grips it. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Do you already have me silenced?

JAKE_02 sent you a message: I’d let you silence me hahaha….

JAKE_02 sent you a voice memo: “Sorry about all this, I really meant it when I said I have a problem. You should probably just block me because I’m going to end up begging to see you otherwise”

Oh, he has an accent. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: your profile says you like inexperience…..well i’ve only slept with like 3 girls, is that inexperienced enough?

JAKE_02 sent you a message: do you like to tease guys like that? like edge them and stuff? 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: oh damn, that’d be so hot 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: do you like it when guys beg btw? 

Etcetera. 

And, well, apparently he just has a lot to say. It’s cute how embarrassed he must feel basically getting himself off with a one-sided sext session with you as you were sleeping. At least, you hope he’s embarrassed. 

You let his messages simmer for a while, waiting to see if he sends anything else. And when he doesn’t, you respond. 

YOURUSERNAME: that was cute. 

It’s the way he’s instantly trying to respond that really gets you going. You chuckle first, knowing already that you’d probably help him out based on this situation alone. 

YOURUSERNAME: trying to wake me up because you can’t stop touching yourself? :( poor baby. 

JAKE_02: oh god please don’t say that

JAKE_02: im gonna end up awake all night trying to get it to go down again

YOURUSERNAME: that’s good to hear. so you can go for a long time then? 

Yes, you’re teasing him. 

JAKE_02: if you’d let me

YOURUSERNAME: you already got off tonight tho, didn’t you?

JAKE_02: i don’t think you understand just how bad it is. i’m already getting my dick out again

You lend yourself a sly chuckle after a deep yawn, knowing for a fact that you’re about to make him prove to you that he’s either still hard or really did get off only to get hard again by a mere few messages from you. 

YOURUSERNAME: show me?

And he does. Similar to the other three photos, only this time he sends a short video with his shorts pushed down his thighs and his cock raging hard and pathetic against his stomach. Again, he’s big, that much is true, but the fact that such a dick is always ready to fuck? To the point he’s desperate? To the point he’s embarrassing about it?

YOURUSERNAME: how bad do you wanna bury that in me?

Oh, shit. Jake could fucking die right now. You seem so willing, which is truly what he needs at this point in his sexual sickness.  

JAKE_02: i’ll come over right now. 

JAKE_02: let me come over and show you

YOURUSERNAME: let’s wait a bit for that, gotta meet officially before I let you fuck me

And you do intend to make him wait, knowing for a fact that you’re not meeting this guy tonight. There’s too much danger in that. Given how desperate he actually is, you can argue that if you changed your mind upon meeting, he very well may not care. Which, that’s something you need to worry about with any person you meet on such an app, but still.

Public meeting first. 

Always.

JAKE_02: right, right, that makes sense. 

JAKE_02: so can i see your pussy then

You stifle a laugh as if the man can hear you, he’d probably like that though. But yeah, no. As much as you know he’d enjoy that, it’s best to let him experience it for the first time in real life if all of this goes well. So, you settle with tits. 

Meaning, he has to settle with them too. 

And the photo is all but enough for Jake. The ping of his phone was far too exciting with the flash of the image sinking into his eyes. Sure, he wanted to see your hole open for him, he wanted to see your pretty hands spreading your lips for the picture, he wanted to see what he might get to fuck into someday– but…

This is good enough for him, honestly. Seeing your tits alone is hot enough, but it’s the fact that you only barely let him see. The plush skin of your lower breasts are peeking from under the shirt you're wearing, one nipple barely out, the other completely hidden. 

He moans out at it, holding his cock tight and painfully as he glares into the screen of his phone. God, he can almost taste it. 

JAKE_02: thats so hot…but….

JAKE_02: pussy….

JAKE_02: please show me your pussy

Another chuckle at how desperate he really is. You lower your phone just a bit, not at all intending to show him all of it but you do lend a panty shot with your legs spread. He’ll live with it, he doesn’t have a choice. 

And he does live with it because he cums almost instantly upon seeing just your thighs open. He wouldn’t have been able to hit climax so quickly had you already had this photo posted for all to see. It’s the fact that you sent it to him in the dms. It’s the fact that you presumably just took it for him. It’s the fact that he can almost see the outline of your folds, and the lines of your pussy that deserves to fucked open. 

When he doesn’t respond immediately, you know it was enough for him. Already you’re preparing to roll back over and get some more sleep, but your phone dings again. 

JAKE_02: tht was hot lol….um

JAKE_02: can u come to the mall tomorrow? i work at [redacted store name], u can come see that im actually very normal if u want

You stop for a second through another yawn, thinking long and hard about it. You shrug to yourself because tomorrow is a saturday and there’s plenty of public spaces to meet him in. And despite how fun it could be to tease him for weeks on end before officially meeting him, you, yourself, have been in a dry-spell lately. 

And he fits your interests perfectly. In other words, yeah, you could fuck.

YOURUSERNAME: you sure you’re not gonna take me in the back and fuck me on the spot? 

JAKE_02: ….would u want me to? 

YOURUSERNAME: no, i wanna bring you home if i think you could make me feel good

JAKE_02: hahah damn

JAKE_02: so you’ll come see me?

YOURUSERNAME: yeah, i’ll come see you

JAKE_02: ok cool :)

And then it’s silent for a long while. In fact, you’re nearly asleep again when your phone pings one last time. All you need to see is the notification to know that meeting Jake is gonna be fun. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: for the record…i definitely will fuck you good

Sounds promising. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You knew he was cute but holy shit, he’s like, cute cute.

Fucking handsome and charmingly cute. 

Perhaps even, hot. 

You stand from around a shelf to check him out. That same accent you’ve heard previously rings loud and clear in your head, and his hair is definitely a stylistic mess, the type of hair you can imagine grabbing and tugging to guide a tongue between your legs. His eyes are pretty and piercing yet equally as filled with some sort of wonder. His hands, his body.

 Oh wow. 

On any other day, you’d think he’s just some poser emo-guy working a shitty retail job so he can buy his first guitar and play it totally out of tune. But on this day, you’re aware that this is a man with a need that you very much wouldn’t mind satisfying. 

 Seeing him go about his work tasks behind the counter is another thing. Checking customers out both through the register and with his eyes when they walk away. You know he isn’t aware that you’ve actually shown up, and it feels nice to watch him in his element before he attempts to play himself up as a totally normal, cool dude. Especially now that you can see him secretly be a pervert on the clock. 

Customer after customer, he smiles at them when he hands them their items, he offers small talk and little chuckles that ring in your ears, and every single time one of the pretty ones walks away, his head turns to watch them leave for a few seconds too long.

Anyone can tell he needs it if they watch him for long enough. 

You’re not sure why this guy is getting to you the way he is, but there’s just something about the way that he carries himself in public that turns you on. You already know for a fact that he’s a horny motherfucker. You know that behind those charming smiles and laughs, he’s got a neglected cock needing to be used. 

No one else in this store is aware of it. You’re the only person here who knows he was spamming a stranger last night with dick pics and begging to see her pussy. 

It’s hot. 

And when you approach, Jake nearly doesn’t even know it’s you at first. 

“Hi, did you find everything you–” Jake stops mid sentence. “Oh, fuck. You’re here.”  He adds, trying to primp his hair into a spot that may look a little better than it did already.

You watch as he studies you for the first time, nervously darting his tongue out and against his bottom lip just for a split second before shifting his eyes behind you, and then turning to look around to see if anyone is within ear shot. 

No one is paying attention to either of you, and no one is going to hear what you’re about to say to him. Good.

“Do you wanna see my pussy?” 

It’s a joke, mostly. Kinda. 

You chuckle at his stunned reaction. His hands move to the counter as he clutches it and continuously looks around to make sure no one just heard those lewd ass words from a girl so goddamn hot. Like, oh god, it’s you. You really showed up to see him and already he’s not acting normal. 

No, no. You’re the one acting out of pocket, not him.

“I’m–” He tries to start, but his voice cracks in a very, very, embarrassing way. You hear him clear his throat before continuing. “I’m supposed to be showing you that I’m normal.” 

You tilt your head at him playfully, leaning against the counter and pushing your tits together with your arms. You wore this shirt here for a reason, and boy are you glad you did. You watch his eyes go straight to your chest and stay there. 

“Public Humiliation.” You echo one of his sexual interests to him from his app profile. “Dirty talk.”

Jake swallows around his words in stunned silence, feeling his cock wake up immediately. Fuck, this is the only place he finds peace of mind from…that. Yet here you are, with that soft and pretty voice reminding him of everything he wants but hasn’t been able to have. Standing there like you know he can’t bend you over right now and make you stop talking.

“Eight and a half inches hard.” You continue, leaning in even closer and moving your hand to the collar of your shirt. Tugging down just a little bit. “Five point six inch circumference.” 

Jake squeezes his eyes shut as he leans back with a sigh, pressing his hips against the counter for some sort of relief. To think the “boring” girl on the app wouldn’t be like this? God, he knew there had to be a catch considering you were on that app to find him in the first place. 

“Please–” He groans as his ears redden, lazily opening his eyes to look at your tits again. “Please don’t do this to me.” 

“I can imagine you’d fit it in me just right, wouldn’t you Jake?” You continue briefly, noting the bulge he blatantly presses against the counter. “Can you say ‘please’ again? It’s kinda hot.” 

“Please–” Jake blatantly groans now, his voice sounding hoarse and low. As much as he wants you to keep going, he’s at fucking work. He can’t be doing this. 

“Okay!” You gleefully agree as you switch up like you didn’t just fuck him up, lending him a bright and innocent smile as you lean back and away from him. “So you don’t want to see my pussy then?”

His relieved face falls right back into that of pained frustration as he narrows his eyes at you. 

“Right now?” He asks curiously, nodding his head without realizing it. Sure, he’s at work but like….your pussy is also at his work place right now.

“Yeah! Can you show me to the fitting room, actually?” You ask, louder this time in case anyone has moved around within ear-shot by now. Can’t make him lose his job, or whatever.

Jake swallows thickly with a nod, his eyes still narrowed at you but his mind racing a mile a minute at the fact that you’re really here right now, and this is what you’re doing to him? Enjoying his pain? Enjoying his suffering? Making it worse? 

Five minutes ago he was perfectly fine. You’re using his need against him and god, he loves it. Yeah, maybe he will take you to the back and try to fuck you at this point. Even if you said that you wouldn’t let him…what the fuck is this then? 

Really, he expected you to show up with an awkward hello and irritating small talk. He wanted to show you that he’s not always thinking about sex. Except he is, and it seems you want him to. You want him to think about fucking you. 

You really just walked into this establishment and asked him if he wants to see your pussy.

Of course he wants to see it. You already fucking know that. He wants to fuck it too, like, right now. 

And as he walks you to the fitting room, he has to try his damndest to adjust his growing cock. He nods to each customer as he walks by them, hands repeatedly going back to his lap to hide what he’s packing.

“Here it is.” Jake says in an unfocused voice, nearly staring a hole through you. “Now show me.” 

You dip your head in a smile, heading for the room and opening the curtain. Cheap ass store, really, most places have actual doors, but whatever. 

It’s easy to step inside and leave the curtain skewed a bit, knowing that Jake is hovering around the room, knowing that it’s probably protocol that an employee assist this space when it’s in use to prevent stealing and to prevent others from walking in on naked customers. 

You like the way you see him take peeks, trying to be discreet. You like the way he keeps his hands in front of his lap, hiding that you’ve definitely made him a mess of him already. You love the way he whispers a curse to himself when you sit against the bench in this small room and spread your legs wide open. 

You bet he loves the skirt you’re wearing for him today too. Though this wasn’t exactly planned or anything, you didn’t expect to be this turned on upon seeing him act as desperate as he sounds. You wore this shirt so he can look, and the skirt too…but looking this much wasn’t in your mind originally. 

He’s hot though. The way he needs it is hot. 

“Hurry up.” He groans, trying to make it seem like he’s frustrated but you know it’s just because he’s anxiously horny. 

And, well, you’re not actually gonna show him your pussy, but at this point you feel bad because he seems really stiff right now, almost robotic in the way he likely feels uncomfortably aroused in his least favorite place.  

“Jake,” You whisper-chuckle. “If you wanna see it, you’re gonna have to come in here and take my panties off of me.”

You hear him sigh, and see his eyes flick back to you through the small open space in the curtain. 

“You’re insane. I can’t come in there, I’ll lose my job.” He argues with a hushed tone, eyes fixated on the very panties he wishes he could remove. 

Even against his protests though, he reaches an arm in as he looks away. As if on extreme watch of other customers and employees roaming around. Probably pretending to grab a garment that doesn’t work for you, probably just doing normal, good-employee things. 

And, well, it’s pathetic really, the way he hopes for more. The way you offer more knowing he can’t get exactly what he wants. You actually feel a bit bad for doing this, especially because it wasn’t entirely in the plan. 

You really were just coming to meet him. It’s not your fault that watching him work turned you on solely because you know what he needs. So, you stand and walk towards the curtain, grabbing his arm and holding it in place. 

“Well–” You start, pressing yourself against the backside of his fingers, feeling him move his hand slightly against your clit. “Touch it then.”

He goes entirely silent but you feel the way he fumbles his hand, immediately grabbing your panties and moving them to the side just to really feel. And you let him, finding it somehow cuter in the way he doesn’t even ask. He does it like he needs to, like it’s instinctual to touch it. He feels for a second or two, probably closer to about five seconds before you step back. Really, it’s enough for him to know you’re wet, enough for him to suffer, enough for him to want more. 

Jake’s brain is on fire at it. Touching it before getting to see it? Goddamn, you’re so fucking mean.

And it’s silent for a few more moments after that as Jake keeps his hand in place, seemingly searching for a pussy just out of reach when you slide the fabric down your legs and place them directly into his hand. 

“When do you get off work?” You ask slyly now, ripping the curtain open and moving his hand for him, forcing him to shove your panties in his pocket. 

“Uh–” He stutters, swallowing again around his words before clearing his throat of the moan he really needs to let out right now. “Seven– I get off at seven.”

You nod with a smile, leaning in real close before patting his pocket. 

“I’ll text you my address.” 

And you leave without sparing him another glance, knowing that by the time his shift is over, he’ll probably pounce the second you open your door for him. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake suffers through the rest of his shift aggressively trying not to suck on his fingers. Fuck, he wants to taste you so bad, but to go as low as sucking the remnants for several hours just to hold him over? Truly, he’s at his wits end. 

Mostly because he absolutely does suck his fingers any chance he gets. Tapping his lips with them as he sees a customer off, licking against them discreetly, trying to make it look normal for him to have his fingers in his mouth so consistently. 

It’s not doing anything to hold him over though. 

He keeps glancing at the clock, and then at the message that reads your address. Just one more hour and he can leave. Just one more hour and he can bury his cock so deep into you that you’d never think twice about letting him do it again, and again, and again.

Oh god, really, he feels like he’s going insane as he checks out customer after customer. Every word they say somehow reminds him that he’s about to finally get laid again. 

“Can you wrap this up for me?” One customer said to him, nodding to a set of candles. 

Jake wishes you’d wrap him up in that pussy. 

“Do you have this in a bigger size?” Another customer had said to him as they held up a plush sweater. 

Jake doesn’t think you’d ever need a dick bigger than his. He’ll fill you up just right. 

“69.99?!” One customer argues. “The sign said it was 30% off!” 

Jake would sixty nine you all night long if you asked. He bets you taste sweet, you probably get really wet too. 

And by the end of the night, rain pounding on the roof, his last customer unfortunately has to hear a low groan leave his throat at their comments. He’s very quick to cover it with a cough. 

“Sorry for coming in right before you close, the rain is bad tonight and I forgot my umbrella, thank god you guys sell them! I didn’t mean to drip all over the floor like this, I hope you don’t have to stay late cleaning up my mess!” 

“I didn’t mean to drip all over your floor like this” Replays in his head, over and over again. God, he’d make you drip. He hopes you drip all over the floor for him. He’d get on his knees and lick it right up, god.

He needs to leave. Right now.

“S’all good,” Jake shakes his head after the initial moan and cough cover, trying to remain casual. “It’s my job to clean it up, after all.” He smiles, his brain stuck on the feeling of how wet you were when he touched you. Shiiiit. “Have a good night, stay dry!” 

And finally, Jake can close out his register and lock the doors. That, he does. Performing his end-of-night tasks at lightning speed with a cock throbbing so bad that he worries he might have to get off in his car before making it to your apartment. He genuinely needs to get off, especially knowing these pretty panties are in his pocket ready to be soaked in his cum. 

He doesn’t though, no. He holds off, thrusting his hips up and against the inseam of his pants with every passing second as he drives. He’s practically writhing by the time he gets to your place. Honestly, he moans with each movement because he’s sensitive. It’s so, so fucking sensitive. Everything feels good, he could genuinely cum the second you open your door if he’s not careful. 

Careful isn’t something Jake can be at this moment though, not when he lands a single knock at your door and you’re immediately opening it, looking at him with that same fucking evil smile you gave to him while he was at work. 

He looks at you and instantly lets out a frustrated moan before stepping in without another word. You feel his hands grab you much harsher than you originally thought he would, but you let him as you laugh out in a nervous chuckle. 

“Hello to you too.” You pat him on the back as his arms wrap around your middle. You hear him kick back against your door, slamming it shut before his lips hit your neck. 

He isn’t talking but goddamn you can hear what he needs to say through the way he presses his lips against you. He’s rough with it, kissing all across your exposed skin before slipping his hand right between your legs from the back as if he doesn’t have to chase anymore. 

You were going to jerk your hips back to make him chase, but his grip is too tight and he’s nearly lifting you off the floor entirely to get a feel. You were going to force him to look at you and the outfit you changed into for him, but again, he’s not having it, it seems.  He moans when he moves his lips up and against yours, hot breath desperate and needy as he finally speaks.

“Did it turn you on to torture me like that?” He nearly growls against your lips. “Got me so fucking hard.” 

You’re genuinely surprised with how he’s acting and talking. Then again, he’s desperate, that much is obvious if that monster bulge rubbing against your leg is anything to go by. Perhaps he may be desperate, but you guess that doesn’t always mean someone will end up submissive as a side effect. 

“It did.” You smile against his lips, pushing yourself forward to try and plant your feet back on the ground, chasing the ability to gain control over him. “Did you like that?”

Jake nods before shaking his head, allowing you to push forward, loving the way your hands reach for him and run through his hair before tugging. He did like what you did, but it doesn’t change the fact that it was fucking torture to stand there at work like he wasn’t losing his mind. 

“I’d like it more if we skip all the bullshit,” He starts, hand still attempting to reach the spot between your legs and lips landing at the corner of your mouth. “Could go all night.”

You nod to him, gripping his shirt and pulling him back to your living room couch and spinning him around, only to shove him back. 

“Is that a promise?” You ask, looking at the lazy way he spreads his own legs and rests his head against your couch cushions, eyes staring straight at you and cock twitching in his pants. “You gonna fuck me all night?”

“Yeah–” He breathes as if he’s in disbelief, hand reaching between his legs just to grab himself and squeeze as his eyes trail your body. “You have no idea how bad I need this.”

“Show me then,” You nod your head to his length that’s hidden under his pants. “Let me watch you first.”

Jake groans, rolling his eyes back both out of frustration and arousal, but he does as you say. His palm feels better with you watching, at least. He doesn’t feel so numb to the pleasure with you promising your body to him, at least. He doesn’t mind proving his size to you by shoving his pants down to his thighs and presenting said neglected cock to you either. 

It’s heavy, dark in color due to the blood that’s likely rushing throughout every inch of it. He feels sensitive to even the air in your living room as he twitches and aches to hear you talk again, to see you in front of him watching how he pleasures himself, wishing his hand is yours. 

“You wanna watch?” He says in a low-rumbled voice, tracing his fingers along the head of his cock and seething out a breath through his now, bitten bottom lip. “Wanna know how tight I want you to feel?” He asks now, bold and in the heat of the moment. You watch him when he squeezes the base of his cock tightly, you can almost feel yourself choke at that alone. 

“How wet you need to be to take it?” He continues, dragging his hand back and licking his palm before spitting into it. 

The wetness against his hand is horrifyingly pornographic. So wet when he reaches back down to his length, allowing you to hear it squelch and slip with ease. His breath is hitched while he does it too, which nearly has you seeing him in tunnel vision.

“Yeah…” You tune into him entirely, swallowing around the lump in your throat and feeling yourself drip already. “I can’t imagine how good–” You cut yourself short to moan at the way his other hand holds his pants down while he jerks his hand up faster and faster. “Oh god, you’re–”

“Wanna see how fast I can cum just looking at you?” He continues, hand only moving faster and faster as his grip tightens more, shamelessly grunting proudly over how he could probably cum now if he wanted to. “I told you, I can go all night.”

You pause, because goddamn. You thought he would be embarrassing, pathetic, needy. You thought he would beg, plead, and cry. But…you feel like you’re the one who needs to do that. God, you’ve never seen a man so desperate to fuck yet be so powerful about it. As if he’s in your face whispering, “You’re gonna let me fuck you, right? You’re gonna love it too, right? You’re gonna let me use you to take care of this little problem of mine, right? It’s what you want, right?”

If he were to say those things to you right now, you’d nod without a doubt. But…he doesn’t. He simply looks at you now, heaving out broken moans that sound too sexy to be considered pathetic. His hips chase each movement of his hand and goddamn does he fuck his fist hard.

Your mind is spinning watching him, knowing that he’s probably going to fuck you twice as hard as he fucks himself. And it’s not surprising to you at least that you can feel your own clit swell and throb for touch too. You easily move your hand between your legs, standing right there in front of him, toying with yourself as if you don’t have the power to ask him to do it for you. 

“Ah, fuck–” Jake groans, thrusting his hips up into his hand one last time before strings of his cum make a mess on his shirt. And it seems to go on forever too, spurt after spurt of it pumping out of him alongside his pretty moans and open-mouthed expression. You can feel your body react to him more than it ever has for anyone else, especially in the way….

“God–” You moan yourself now, watching him spread his legs and slouch more against your couch with a relieved sigh from his messy orgasm. But…his cock doesn’t soften. No, it stays stiff and heavy against his stomach, twitching and dribbling more and more of his cum out in little beads. 

The proof of his issue is right here, he really can and probably will go all night. And you say nothing else to him after that. In fact, he wouldn’t be able to answer you if you did say something simply because you find yourself stepping up onto your own couch, resting your knees against the back of it, and gripping his hair. 

Jake lets out a half-moan-half-hum, as expected, when he feels your hand drag his face under your skirt. You didn’t have to do that, but goddamn does he fucking love it. He loves how he can feel your knees buckle and force you to balance on the couch, loves how your cunt is just as needy as he feels, fucking adores the way you drip all over his tongue when he pushes your panties to the side and starts licking you up. 

It’s the fact that he didn’t even have to ask you to put it in his face. The slight taste against his fingers all night at work is nothing compared to the way you drown him now. He needs to do this for you. Hell, he needs to do this for himself.

“Jesus,” You breathe, rolling your hips on his mouth. He’s truly eating you like his life depends on it. You can hear his muffled hums at the taste, you can feel his shoulder shake as he starts jerking off again, you can feel the way his tongue goes deeper and deeper, licking each clench of your walls, only to pull back and suck the wet from your panties in a deep breath. 

He coos at it too, as if he’s in love with the moment, as if he truly can’t believe he’s finally got a pussy to lick. And he swallows each mouth full of your slick before muttering curses and promises against your swollen little bud. 

“Please,” He moans, nipping and licking against you. “Been so long since I’ve eaten pussy, rub it on me- fuck-” he continues to babble, heat-of-the-moment-talk coming out as far more arousing than cringe if you listen hard through your ringing ears. “Come on,” He continues, now neglecting his own cock and gripping your ass with both hands, shoving you back and forth on his face in painfully slow and harsh grinds. “Come on, harder.”

As if you can function at all right now with how rough he is about trying to pleasure you? Fucking hell, the words ignite something in you as you pull back and away from him. For a split second, you see his blown out pupils and fucked up hair as he licks his lips and presents that shining lower-half of his face to you. 

You don’t look for long though, no. Because you’re too busy pushing him to the side and forcing him to lay back on the couch instead. You resume your position afterwards, straddling the couch on either side of his head with your knees and planting your pulsing cunt right on his eager tongue. 

“You’re too hot,” You moan, feeling his hands go straight back to your ass to force more of those harsh grinds against him. “If you could see yourself right now–” Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you feel his moaned out chuckle hit you right in the clit. It’s like he knows he makes you feel good, but does he really? 

Does he truly understand how fucking good at this he is?

 “God, if you could feel how good your tongue is–” You continue, now losing yourself in the heat of the moment, feeling his fingers nearly bruise your ass with the death-grip he has on you. 

He nods his head in what little space he has as he spirals into heaven behind his eyes. The smell of you suffocates him, the taste of you drowns him, the weight of you is nothing short of sexy as hell. This is all he could ever want. A pretty girl using and abusing his face, much like he wants to do to you. But oh, there’s so, so much he wants to do after so long of having no one but himself. 

Eat you out, finger fuck you, slide his cock down that pretty little moaning throat of yours, grip that hair and kiss those tits. God, he wants to do everything right now but he can’t bear to push this perfect clit off of his lips. He cannot fathom losing the taste of you and the way you clench around the tip of his tongue. 

Oh fuck.

“Ahh- '' Jake moans open-mouthed against your clit as his brain hits a wall, his cock standing stiff from behind you as he spills out against himself again. Untouched completely, he cums without any effort where as previously it took him hours just to get off because he’d grown so fucking bored of everything. 

You’ve ignited him. His drive is higher than it’s ever been after being neglected for so long. God, he wants to fuck you so full that you can’t bear to leave him. 

“Fuck–” He continues, trying to lend licks between his jerking body to keep your arousal peaked. “See how bad I need it?” 

He finally manages to pull back, feeling you lift from his face just for a moment after noting the way his entire body is shaking. He’s not having it though, as he cranes his neck in chase of your dripping hole once more.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He adds now, enveloping his lips around your clit again and using both hands to force you right back down on his face. 

There, you feel the way he almost passionately makes out with your pussy. As if he’s thanking you for a second orgasm within the past ten minutes. As if he truly can’t stop wanting to fuck something, someone, anything at all.

Goddamn, what a fucking deal. All hail the hook-up app that brought this insatiable sex beast to your apartment.

“Jake–” You start, grinding down for him and feeling his hands now move to rub up and down your back. “Keep your tongue in me.” You choke out, gripping his hair to hold his face in place as you sit his tongue inside of you, short and jerky thrusts forward to bump your clit against his nose. 

He’s gotten off twice now, it’s your turn. 

And you watch as he drops his arms from you and grips your outer legs through it, letting you use his face until he can’t breathe. Both of you are seeing stars through it, your orgasm bubbling up so quickly that you can barely warn him when your hips halt in a stiffened clench and he’s finishing the job for you. 

Your legs squeeze around his head, your fingers pull his hair, and still he manages to find the space to tilt his chin up just to tongue-fuck you deeper, just to rub his nose harshly against your clit, up until he feels your quivering pussy spill all over his chin, down his throat, stealing any breath or moan he could possibly give right now. 

You’re out of breath by the time you finally slide off of his face, your hands immediately shooting to both of his cheeks as your sensitive clit drags down his stomach for the easy position change. You wince when you lick against his lips at the sensitivity, being sure to seat yourself right against his cock. 

“Hah–” Jake lends a breathy laugh against the way you lick his lips, his hands going right back to your ass and landing a sharp slap to it. “Couldn’t even get our clothes off first.”

You take a second to pull back and look at him, noting the redness against his cheeks and nose, likely from your panties consistently getting in his way and then you chuckle back at him. You’re thankful for the short break the two of you seem to be taking at the moment. Still, you lift up from him just to remove your shirt, exposing your tits in an instant solely because you didn’t wear a bra for this exact purpose. 

He’s still hard, despite two orgasms. You feel him rubbing it against you every few seconds, right up against your saliva and cum-soaked panties which, mind you, are insanely uncomfortable right now. It feels as if they’re slicing through your thigh with the force of how Jake managed to keep them shoved out of his way. 

“Just lay back,” You smile at him, allowing him a longer rest for now as you take it upon yourself to remove the barriers. “Let me take care of you now.”

Jake has hearts in his eyes as he watches you. Normally, a girl would already be falling asleep after all that, leaving him with not enough orgasms and no actual fucking. It’s not his fault he could do foreplay for upwards of three to four hours before going for the finale. Which, arguably, can and will last several hours longer. 

Still, you appear to not be finished either, with your breathless smile and gentle hands. He bites his bottom lip through a smirk as he watches you, tits on full display to keep him satiated for now as you move around on the couch to get his pants off of him. He helps a bit with a little kick, his cock still so sensitive and pathetically weeping for more. He feels lucky to have found you, almost baffled that he may have met his match. 

You lend several glances at his cock, not quite realizing the way he’s blinking at you right now. To be fair, it’s only natural to have your attention on that thing right now. You swallow around your nervousness regarding the size but equally want him to fuck you senseless with it. You already feel entirely fucked out, but…that. Oh, that could change your life, probably. You can imagine he won’t be as gentle as you expected before all of this too. Would probably shove it in all in one go and lose his mind at the feeling. 

He’s probably going to split you open and make it feel good for you too. Somehow. 

Anyway, enough of that. You’ve still got to get his shirt off, your uncomfortable skirt and panties too. 

You make quick work of it, as you stand to your feet and expose yourself entirely to him. Jake just watches, humming and moaning at each new expanse of skin you show to him. He keeps his hands to himself though, likely so used to feeling of them that they’d bring no pleasure at this moment if he were to jerk off to you doing this. And you just…look right back at him.

“Come on,” You smile at him again, lending your hand out for him to grab. “Bedroom will be more comfortable.”

Right. Bedrooms exist.

Jake follows, cock heavy and sensitive against his thigh with each step as he tries to get up close behind you. His eyes stay on your ass as you walk in front of him, and it’s not hard for him to keep his hands on it. In fact, he’s touching you as often as he can, trying to remind himself that he’s with someone right now who actually wants him. 

You seem to be willing to let him do what he needs tonight, and hopefully it won’t be the only time. 

You feel him on you, clinging so closely, hands constantly groping, lips always trying to reach the back of your neck and shoulders, to the point it’s actually difficult to get to your bedroom because you want nothing more than to turn around and shove him against the wall, all to try and take him into your mouth just to see if you can.

He doesn’t really let you think about that for too long though, because the second you get to your bedroom, he’s grabbing you from behind and lifting you in his strong arms. You writhe in his grasp with playful giggles, feeling the strong hold he has on you, keeping you in place against him as he stumbles forward with a deep inhale into your neck.

He’s quick to make his way to your bed, dropping you onto it, flipping you over onto your back, and immediately slotting himself between your legs. He hovers over you for a minute, looking directly into your eyes as his hair falls forward. 

Somehow, you’re more focused on his face than you are of his cock that he’s sliding up and down your core right now. You reach up to his hair, brushing it out of his face and feeling the sticky sweat at his scalp. 

“Could eat you out again.” Jake mentions, hips thrusting against you but eyes calm and level with yours. “Could lock me up in here and just use me all day if you want.” He continues, partially being serious about it, but treating it as if it’s some kinky joke instead. 

Because let’s be honest. If there’s any job Jake could do better than anyone else, it’s be a woman’s fuck toy. Always ready to go, always stiff and horny, always willing to please. 

“Could slide in right now and let you feel how hard I am.” His voice gets breathier as he talks, and you can tell he’s just imagining everything he wants to do. He probably worries he’ll have to go home at some point tonight only to resume his search for potential fucks to keep his need satiated. 

He probably thinks he’s going to exhaust you. 

“Could let you do all of that and more.” You respond, lifting your hips just slightly to press his cock between your bodies, throwing your legs around his waist simultaneously with the way you wrap your arms around his neck. “You want me to lock you up in here?” 

Jake nods with a sigh, squeezing his eyes shut as if he can imagine it. 

“Do you work tomorrow?” 

He shakes his head with another sigh, focusing on the way you keep humping up against his length, sliding yourself in whatever way you can against him. 

“Maybe I’ll just have to do that then.”

Oh, damn. 

The heart eyes are back. The very thought of being in this room all night and all day tomorrow drives his cock to pulse and twitch. Foreplay can come whenever, fucking can come whenever, he can cum whenever. There’s no need for a to-do list. No need for a specific structure of rules on how this needs to happen. Foreplay, sex, sleep. Not with Jake. 

Sex. foreplay. sex. foreplay. for hours. He’ll keep you up all night if he can, fucking and sucking every part of you, into the morning hours straight into tomorrow night. 

Free use with you from now until you’re tired of him. You can do anything you want to him but for now…

“Yeah?” Jake breathes out in excitement, arching his back slightly to let his cock land against your hole, and then he pushes forward slowly. The bulbous head spreads your lips and stretches out your slick pussy with ease as he continues to speak. “Feel that?”

Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, fingernails already digging into his shoulders at the anticipation as your legs loosen around him. He continues to push forward, inch by inch, painfully slow as if he wants you to feel the burn and stretch even while being as wet as you are. 

“Ah–” He confirms for himself as he watches your face, wincing, mouth falling open. “Yeah, you feel it.”

God, yeah. You do. You feel the weight of his size inside of you, stretching you open so good he probably wouldn’t even have to move for it to hurt. But he does move, he does continue to slide in, savoring every second of your walls quivering and suffocating his cock. 

“Goddamn,” He groans, lifting up on both arms and bracing himself as he looks down, only to find he’s only slid half of his dick into you, and already you’re about as breathless as he is. “Didn’t realize how tight you’d actually be–” 

He chokes when he says it, sliding out little by little before fucking back in, pushing just a bit more into you.

“S’okay.” You try to reassure him, but it’s more for you than it is for him. You really didn’t think a cock could feel so big that it actually hurts, yet, here you are. “I’m adjusting.”

Jake moans at your broken voice, no longer holding himself back to look at your pussy grip him when he pulls out slightly. He looks at your face instead, witnessing how you take all of it in one solid movement from him. All of it, until he can feel his pelvis rest against your clit and your entire body stiffens in a tight hug around his body. 

“Mhm,” He leans back down now, humming against your cheek as he tries to control the urge to fuck. “Taking all of it, aren’t you?”

With those words, he slides out slightly before pushing back in again, trying to force your pussy to relax so that he can stop holding his breath. One hand finds its way to your leg to hold onto, the other holding himself up beside your head, and he just…watches. 

Little by little, he thrusts. Plunging into you in short-tight snaps of his hips just to watch your tits jiggle with the movements, up until he really, really can’t hold back anymore. 

You feel his cock leave you almost entirely, only to slam right back in and cause your vision to go white with a pang of pleasure. Your loud yelp pairs well with his relieved sigh of a grunt, and it appears that this is what breaks him entirely. 

That single, full thrust, lets him fall forward and nuzzle his nose against your neck and his body just goes. Instinctually chasing the deepest parts inside of you, hitting your cervix with each thrust only to drag back and make your toes go numb at the way your g-spot feels entirely too sensitive with this alone.

And god, Jake loves the way you cling through it. The way you moan each time he bottoms out, the way your nails cut into his back and the way your legs continuously fail to stay wrapped around him. He…

Oh no.

“I can go all night–” He breathes out through his relentless thrusts, almost as if he’s pleading with you. “I swear, I’m not done–” He continues to cut off his own words with choked moans as he pulls back and leans up, frantically forgetting to apologize over the fact that he’s already about to cum again.

And you feel him try to slide out, that face he made twice before already alerting you that he really must have so much to pump out of himself at this point. You don’t mind if he’s about to hit a third orgasm, in fact, you’re glad.

Your legs hold him in place as he fights to pull out, his eyes snapping to you in realization after the second time he tries. 

“No fucking way, you– you want it?” His eyebrows fall into that of a relieved release as he, too, falls right back down against your chest and lets his hips fuck freely. 

He’s not controlling it at this point. You feel him stretch you open more through his orgasm, rolling his hips but not pulling out even in the slightest now. Moving back and forth, as if trying to stuff you impossibly full while he releases those thick ropes of cum. It…feels so good even with the way the base of his cock continues to swirl and loosen you up in a painful stretch that almost feels like he’s ripping you open. Still, the pain is gone as he shakes on top of you, in fact, you feel your clit throb at the feeling of how big he is, of how hard he manages to stay. 

He didn’t even fuck you that roughly before this, but it feels like you’re already ruined. Ruined enough to want more. Enough to need more. 

“Bet that feels good,” You chuckle against his hair, feeling each pulse of him and loving the way he pants against your ear. “Not having to pull out, knowing you can fuck me for as long as you want.”

That only pushes his orgasm to hit harder. He thought he was nearing the end of it, but instead, his body goes into overdrive as more pulses of cum shoot out of him at your words. There’s so…so much of it he can give you. And if this is what you want, he’s the perfect man to do it for you. 

“Don’t say that, oh god–” Jake mumbles through the end of his orgasm, keeping himself tucked nice and deep into you as he releases his body weight and makes you feel slightly suffocated under him. “Please.”

Well, he minds his manners well enough, you shrug under him, clenching around his length unintentionally and reminding him that you genuinely can go all night, just like him.

Reminding him that maybe you really will just lock him up in this room all tonight, all tomorrow. He seems into the idea anyway, right? Both of you just free-use sex dolls for the time being…Hell yeah.

And as Jake catches his breath, he finally lifts up, pulling you with him, and sits you directly on his lap now.

“Keep going then, don’t let it get soft.” He nearly whimpers, solely due to the sensitivity his cock is now offering and the fact that after that third orgasm, he truly is gaining the ability to go flaccid between orgasms. 

And you follow his direction, though not entirely how he wanted you to. Instead of rolling your hips, you slip him right out of you and sink your face down between his legs, loving the way his cum spills out of you all the while. You don’t even say anything, not that you’d need to. He watches you, a smirk forming on his lips as he raises an arm and throws it over his eyes. 

“Shit, You’re so my type.” He groans out of the sexual frustration that still bubbles within him. You look so good down there with his cock just inches from your mouth. God, no woman has been able to go down on him for too long despite really fucking wishing they would. 

His hips always lose control, they don’t like face fucking, he’s too big to fit, they’re gagging too much, their jaw is hurting. What the fuck ever. Look at you, blinking up at him like you want nothing more in the world than to take it all down your throat. Ah, fuck, if you did that…

His hips buck up on instinct, forcing you to hold him down with your arms as you lick your lips. 

“You really live up to your promise, you know that?” You smile with warmed cheeks as you speak, blowing air gently against the head of his cock. It’s softened up a little, but it’s no longer going flaccid. You’re sure that the second you work it into your mouth, he’s going to be blocking your airways. 

Good. 

“You say that like I’m not overwhelming you with all of this,”  He chuckles as he moves his arm from his face and down to yours. “Most girls would have already sent me home.”

You circle your lips around the bulbous head, tasting the remnants of both you and him as you gently suckle before popping off and licking your lips. 

“Well, Jake–” You look back down and lend his cock a little kiss. “I’m not most girls. Besides, most guys get their nut and leave me hanging. You’ve gotten, what? Three orgasms by now? And you’re still in my bed? Wanting me to lock you up tomorrow too? What a fucking win.”

Jake rolls his eyes because you don’t even know the fucking half of it. If he were a normal guy, he probably would have done the same thing. Maybe not to you, but to others? Yeah. The thing is, he’s not like most guys. And you’re right in saying you’re not like most girls either, considering…your sex drive appears to be just as insatiable as his.

“Fuck, let me eat you out again–” Jake groans now, needing to pleasure you again, aroused by the fact that he’s basically met a female version of himself. Even if he’s just exaggerating and making himself believe such a woman could exist close enough to him. “Let me– Ahh…”

You cut off his words, dragging a loud and sensual moan from him as you sink down. Mostly to shut him up, mostly so you can return the favor for him from earlier before letting him have another lick of you. After all, you truly do appreciate him for all of this. 

“Mmf–” You mumble unintentionally, feeling each inch of his length that you swallow up pressing your tongue further and further down in your mouth. Up until you’re entirely open mouthed on him, gagging yourself when he hits your throat only to angle yourself up on your knees to point it straight down your throat instead.

It hurts, but you close your eyes in concentration, breathing through each gag, ignoring the dribble of saliva that runs from the corners of your mouth and– you swallow.

Mostly because you can’t suck. Again and again, you swallow around him just to stimulate his length, the girth stretching your lips out to the point you feel your jaw could break, but it doesn’t and it won’t. 

Within an instant of taking his whole length down your throat, you feel his hands in your hair. Your ears are ringing, otherwise you would also be listening to him choke on his words at how you’re doing this to him. All of it. You’re taking him in full, not leaving an inch out, seemingly proving that your mouth can be fucked just as good as your cunt.

He’s in heaven, head spinning as you stimulate him through each gag and sputtered out chokes of a moan. He can’t help it when he grabs your hair, he really doesn’t mean it when he pushes your head down while pressing his hips up. Essentially choking you and suffocating you in full with a paused hold. 

You brace yourself on his hips when he does this, squeezing your eyes shut and continuously gagging from the way he abuses your mouth with just that small movement, and then– he pulls back.

“Ahh,” He groans, snapping his hips back and holding you by the hair to keep you from chasing. “You like that?” He continues, letting you breathe but not answer at all before he’s pushing your head right back down, holding you there again and fucking his hips up repeatedly into your throat this time. 

The sounds are pornographic at best, concerning at worst. You, searching for air somewhere between his thrusts, the sounds of wet sputters, drooling, whimpered groans from him, and desperate gasps and gags from you. Truly, Jake is in heaven right now. With you, specifically, you’ve brought him to heaven.

For you, it feels like he does this forever. You’re losing the ability to comprehend what breathing ever was in the first place, thankfully though, Jake can see the tears pouring from your eyes and feel the way you fall slightly limp, letting him do as he pleases before he realizes– he may actually be overwhelming you now.

He snaps his hips back quickly, pulling you up and off of the last remaining inches of his weeping cock before taking a good, long look at your gasped breath and abused lips. Tongue licking out and eyes stained. 

“I’m sorry, fuck, I–”

Instantly you press yourself down on him once again, resuming your original position of sliding him in until you can’t stand the feeling in your throat, gagging and swallowing around him time and time again. You feel proud of it, proud of the pain, proud of the suffocation. 

Fucking proud to not be finished with him compared to every other person, apparently. 

“Jesus–” He groans now, his entire body slouching against your bed as he slams his head back and starts petting your cheeks. “It’s like you were born for this. For me.”

You hum around the gags, growing accustomed to swallowing him up and feeling your jaw strain. And just a few moments later, you pull up with a deep breath, a smile, and you start rubbing your jaw. 

“Maybe I was,” You try to talk dirty, wanting to drive him insane. “You taste so good.” You add, dipping down again to lick a long stripe up the underside of his balls up to his tip. “Any girl should be proud to say you’d fuck her mouth like that.”

A twitch, he rolls his eyes back and clenches his jaw. 

“How are you so…” He breathes out, reaching his hands blindly for you, only to feel you shift on the bed and essentially sit your tits into both of his hands. “perfect?”

You shrug when he opens his eyes, you’re now hovering over him, both hands covering his on your tits as you force him to squeeze and grope. 

“Maybe it’s best to not ask questions.” You tilt your head playfully. “Besides, if I’m lucky maybe you’ll stop trying to find other girls to fuck. They can’t take care of you like I will, anyway.”

Oh, you damn fucking right they won’t. 

“You can have it any time you want.” Jake smiles, relishing in your tits warming under his palms, watching the way you hover over him tall and proud on your knees. “Could play with you every day and never get bored.” 

You feel him move his hand from under yours, going straight between your legs and sliding not two, but three fingers into you with ease.

“Still so wet too,” He hums, eyes narrowing at you with that same pretty grin. “You always this horny?”

You shake your head. 

“Not usually, you just turn me on.” 

Jake feels proud of that. He doesn’t feel like the odd ball with a dick that can’t be satiated no matter how many pussies he plows through in a night. Which, again, for the past year has been a total of zero pussy. You getting turned on by that makes him feel…capable. Makes him feel like maybe he can be put to use by a pretty girl. 

Makes him feel like his need is wanted and well taken care of. 

“So, I can keep calling you?” He asks now, fucking his fingers up, loving the warmth and slide, anticipating for when he gets to bury his cock in you again. 

“Mhm.” You hum, closing your eyes to enjoy the pleasure of how deep even his fingers reach. Kind of ready for him to stop talking and just focus on what he’s doing to you.

“Even if it’s every single day?” He continues to ask, now using his thumb against your clit. “Even if I need you in the middle of the night?”

Anything he wants if he can keep hitting your g-spot like this. 

“Yes, Jake,” You sigh out of aroused frustration, now wiggling your hips to chase that stimulation inside of you. “I’ll give you the fucking key to my apartment if you want. Just let you walk right in and start fucking me.”

His fingers move faster at the image, the implication of not just free-use, but true free use. Real free-use. 

“Yeah? Wake you up with my cock sliding into you?” He urges you to keep talking, now removing his other hand from your chest and circling it around his cock. “Just walk right in and get my mouth on you while all your friends are here?”

You lend a surprised chuckle, but pay no mind to his words past the arousal it brings to you. You’d tell him about how you have a total of like two friends, and half of the time they’re too busy to show up anyway. Still, the image is hot at the moment. All of it is hot. 

“You’d let me?” He continues pressing every button both physically and mentally, unaware of how easy it is for him to talk as if it’s a normal conversation solely because it’s kind of his general state of living at this point. You, on the other hand, are not used to having a full conversation while your g-spot gets abused. “Even if you’re not home? Let you come home and find me fucking myself for you?”

Oh.

“Fuck–” You groan out at the image, feeling his fingers reach so perfectly, thinking of how it would feel to walk into your apartment just to see this pretty man chasing that tight ring of fingers his fist creates. Probably so turned on and frustrated that you’re not home…so frustrated that all he could do is drop to the floor and start fucking. “God, yeah.”

So that’s what you’re into. You love that he’s that pathetic to fuck. And lucky for you, he’s more than willing to continue to be that fucking pathetic. 

“Does that feel good?” He hums now, watching how you fuck yourself against his fingers, lifting slightly to lick against your nipple. “Can I use my cock again?” He babbles almost, brain on constant loop of you actually giving him free reign of your apartment someday so he can come and–”Please, do this on my cock.”

This is the second time he’s asked you to ride it, and you think that may be one time too many. You almost feel guilty for taking him down your throat first, but then again, you don’t. Your body vibrates knowing you’re about to split yourself open on him again, only this time having full control. 

“You want me to sit on it, Jake?” You smile, thrusting your hips down and sinking his fingers into you so deep that you physically can see his brain malfunction. 

The frantic nod he gives is somehow less powerful than how he lifts his hips, forcing you higher on your knees as his fingers slip out of you and immediately land in his mouth. 

Man, this guy must love the taste of pussy. The image of him doing that alone is insanely arousing to you as you lend him a short nod and slide back, your pussy sucking in the head of his cock instantly as if the two of you move together so well, that it was only natural to not need a guiding hand for it. 

He sinks his head deep into the mattress with the way you try to sink down on him. He holds his breath with those same fingers in his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut at how tight you still are, how wet you still are. 

And he’s shocked, almost, at the way you just keep sliding down. Not letting yourself re-adjust to his size, holding your own breath and bracing yourself on his abdomen just to keep balance and you wince through the stretch. 

“That’s it.” Jake soothes your hips as you sit, clenching around each one of his twitches inside of you. “Doing so good.” He breathes out this time, trying to hold back his moan just for a moment as he awaits your moan first.

And it comes quickly when you lean back rather than against him, arms by his knees as you practically present his cock to him buried entirely into you with this position. He lifts his head and stares at it before reaching his thumb to your clit, immediately pressing hard circles against it. 

“Ride it,” He pleads now. “God, please ride it.” He loses his mind at the image, really, as you do start moving. 

Pained whimpers falling from your lips as you circle your hips, fucking just an inch of him in and out of yourself, forcing the deepest part of your pussy to take the abuse more than anything else. And you know he loves it with the way his thumb stops rubbing your clit, with the way he can’t decide on if he should look or throw his head back and fall into the sensation. 

It’s really cute to witness, and you’d lean forward to kiss him if you had the strength to do it, but you don’t. In fact, all the strength you have is currently bubbling up inside of you with a sharp, almost burning sensation. 

You know exactly what this is. You’ve practiced it time and time again alone in this bed. 

“Oh, oh shit, Jake–” You groan as you frantically start moving your hips through the full and splitting feeling of him inside of you. Your voice sounds so panicked, it almost scares him. And honestly? Had he not have finger fucked you against your g-spot previously perhaps you could last longer on him, but no. 

“What– What’s wrong?!” Jake’s voice is broken when he quickly leans up, hugging around you as you continue to ride against him, faster now, chasing, chasing, chasing. 

Pushing, pushing, pushing.

“No, no!” You moan out, shoving him back against the bed and now lifting entirely from his length before slapping your own clit, fast, rough circled motions before each slap. “Oh, shit!” You nearly yell, witnessing it squirt from your body straight against his abdomen and chest. 

Jake just watches, mouth agape and eyes wide. 

“Oh–” He stares. “Oh yeah?” 

And you’re not even done when he seemingly takes full control. Allowing all that squirt to fall out of you, ignoring your shaking legs, tipping you straight back and plunging his cock right back into that release of pressure inside of you.

“You just weren’t gonna tell me you could do that?” He grunts against your ear, fucking into you so hard and so fast that your orgasm just keeps coming. It feels too good to speak, too good to breathe. 

Even as it subsides and you’re trying to catch your breath, he doesn’t let you. He just keeps going, grunting incoherently against your ear, snapping his hips harder than you think he’s probably ever done before. 

Honestly, with each yelp you let out, your sensitivity goes from being unbearably painful to–

“Do it again–” He urges you. “Give me another one.” Babbling, cooing, fucking moaning all over your neck until his lips hit yours. 

Somehow, that gives him exactly what he wants as he feels your legs tense up and fall open around him. Your pelvis slamming into his so hard that it’s, quite literally, splashing out of you in loud and painful sounds. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He nods and whispers against your tongue, sucking it into his mouth before licking into yours, nearly rabid with the way he’s both kissing and fucking you, he can’t help it. He forgot words the second he felt the gush rush past his length, trying to force it out of you only for him to go harder. Like hell he’s not going to feel you literally squirt on his cock. “So fucking messy.”

At one point, you think you might have actually died. You’re not sure but you swear you saw him fucking you in third person for two solid seconds before being slammed right back into your body. The pleasure genuinely is so overwhelming that…well, suddenly you understand why girls probably think he’s too much.

But goddamn he’s…so good. Like, you remember him mentioning his body count through his one-sided sext session with you and you can argue his inexperience probably made this that much better. He’s a fucking natural. 

And as he continues fucking into you, all you can do is lend him a distant smile. You’re definitely not experiencing real life at this moment, and you know he sees it with the way he lifts and keeps his eyes on your zoned out expression. 

“Look at you.” He echoes against your walls. “So, so pretty.” 

And he just keeps doing that, whispering praises, working you through his presumed last orgasm of the night because he genuinely can’t not fill you up with his cum one last time before letting you rest. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The rest didn’t last long, but to be fair you didn’t need it to. All night, and all day. That promise was kept and Jake remained insatiable throughout all the time he spent with you.

To the point you very nearly felt strange about him leaving. Like you’d grown so accustomed to having someone literally attached to you at the dick that you knew the loneliness and silence would hit you a little too hard once he leaves. 

And, well, he does leave in a sense, but not completely. 

Though you never truly meant that offer in the midst of sex-talk, Jake seemed to have clinged to the idea of it. Lock him up, but still give him the key. 

Never in your life would have imagined giving a person the key to your apartment, and yet…there he goes. Backing out of a guest parking spot in front of your building with your spare fucking apartment key in his pocket right next to those fucking panties. 

[rafeandonlyrafe]

range

words: 700

warnings: mentions of violence, takes place in s3, gun range, shooting (just targets), protective!rafe, soft!rafe, established relationship

“rafe, i really don't know about this…” you sigh, hands twisting around together, trying to combat them shaking and appearing weak in front of your boyfriend.

“i just think this would be a good idea.” rafe says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “i don't expect you to become a fan or do this fun, but it would make me feel better.”

“is this because of whatever you're doing with barry?” you question, placing your hands on your hips. “or why you were in carribbean for “business” and all of a sudden stop answering my calls?”

“what do you know about barry?” rafe questions, his face turning pale, voice dropping as his tone turns serious.

“i heard you talking to him on the phone. you thought i was asleep.” you admit sheepishly, not proud of what you did, but you knew rafe was hiding something from you.

“okay.” rafe says, hands dropping to your shoulders, giving them a squeeze. “yes. it's because of bad men that i want you to at least learn how to shoot a basic handgun. i will be here to protect you but if anything happens to me…”

“rafe, you're really scaring me.” you gulp, eyes suddenly darting around, wondering how safe you are in tanneyhill.

“im gonna get shit sorted out. soon. until then, i need to know you can protect yourself.”

“okay.” you pout, knowing rafe will suck his head and kiss you. you wrap your arms around his shoulders and find comfort in his hold, slight relief knowing that what he was hiding from you wasn't another girl, but knowing hes in danger sends a chill to your very core.

“as far as i can tell, no one knows about you. as much as i want to show you off to the world, i need you to just be sheltered for a little bit. until things blow over.”

“rafe,” you coo out, placing your hands on the smooth planes of his cheeks. “im not mad. i trust you. just tell me this stuff so im not sat here questioning.”

“i love you.” rafe says earnestly. he used to see it as a flaw, how deep his love runs for those he cares about, especially when it turned sour against his family, but when you came into his life everything turned around and began looking up, his growing love becoming a strength instead of a weakness.

“i love you too.” you press another kiss to his lips. “so, when are we going?”

--

rafe has the guns laid out in the case, all pointing down range. two pistols and one revolver, all handed down to him by ward, who of course only bought the highest of quality.

“okay.” you nod, listening intently to rafes safety lesson, purposely looking at the guns and not his face as to not get distracted and remind yourself of the importance of what you're doing.

“ill fire the full magazine first that way you can hear it and see it.” rafe explains. “and then ill reload and you can fire. this one doesn't have a lot of kickback.”

you nod and take a couple steps back, jumping when the first shot is fired, but your flinching slowly settles as rafe fires down the range until the gun clicks.

“ready?” rafe turns, placing his hands on your shoulders. “remember, when you pick up a gun, you're doing it to save yourself. you're shooting to kill.”

“i know.” you nod somberly, moving to the edge of the shooting area and picking up the gun, making sure to aim it towards the target the whole time as you adjust your grip before flipping the safety.

your finger hesitates briefly over the trigger before you fire, gasping at the power held in your hands.

you finish off the magazine and set the gun down with a staggering step back, right into rafes hold.

“i got you. you did good.” rafe hugs you to him, sliding your ear protection off to place kisses all over your face.

he continues comforting you after every round is fired, reminding you of the importance and reassuring you you're doing well.

“i know you didn't enjoy that.” rafe says as you get back into the car, having picked up all your shell casings and fully cleared the guns. “but im glad you did it, baby. i pray nothing ever happens but if it does, you'll be ready.”

sfw tags: @winterrrnight @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen @bejeweledreverie @drewsephrry

[scoutswritingcorner]

Hello! Thoroughly enjoying your writings!! Deeeelish!! You are fantastically talented and we are so lucky as a fandom to have you!

What if during the battle between Adam and Alastor the reader jumped in front of Alastor and took the hit instead. Up until this point Alastor couldn’t put his finger on his feelings for the reader but seeing them badly hurt, and protecting him clicks it all into place.

Thank you for entertaining the thought!!

Fight For Me

Alastor x GN!Reader

TW: Blood, Alastor being angry.

A/N: YOU ARE SO NICE IMMA CRY- IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET OUT!

It wasn’t supposed to end up like this, you were supposed to be fighting the executioners with the others. You weren’t supposed to be up here with him and fighting this no good first man. As he collected you in his arms seeing the gash that ran from your stomach to your chest made his smile falter, he had already lost his microphone and now here he was about to permanently lose you. He couldn’t let that happen. Not yet. 

He ignored Adam as his shadows curled around the both of you and allowed him to quickly travel to his destroyed tower. Why would you protect him? He cursed himself as he ripped your shirt open, he was much more of gentleman than this but your fucking afterlife was on the line. Why did he care?  He snapped his fingers as his shadow slid a medical kit across the room, you were out cold so this could go easier, his shadow danced across the walls as he started to wipe as much blood as he could away. Tears stung at his eyes as his smile became tighter, threatening to pull at the hidden stitching. 

Throwing his jacket off to the side as it felt restricting, He could easily finish you off right now. Why does he care? As he carefully stitched the scar back up, he kept glancing up at your face, your heart beat was slowing down and it scared him. You better not fucking die on him, he couldn’t lose you not right now.  He’d tear Heaven down just to make sure you were safe and next to him, but why was he feeling this way? No one got him feeling..like this. He was scared. You are scaring him, get out of his head. Finishing up the last stitch he carefully draped his jacket over your body as he used his own legs as your pillow, he needed to keep your head propped up just in case.  PLEASE- Get up, you’re scaring him. You need to show him you're okay.

He doesn’t know how long he sat there but as soon as your eyes opened he felt a rush of relief wash over him, you were okay. His clawed hands cradled your face with a softness that was foreign to him as his lips pulled into a sneer, “What in the fuck were you thinking? Protecting me from a powerful blast such as that?!” He snarled, he didn’t mean to be so venomous but being scared was foreign to him. He didn’t like being vulnerable and yet he felt safe around you, he wanted to comfort and cradle you close after every day. You didn’t answer him just staring up into his ruby red eyes, “Answer me, damn it. Why? I could’ve taken the hit.” He continued as tears pricked and stung at his eyes. You were strong, yes, very strong. But he couldn’t lose you, he didn’t want to lose you. He hated this feeling. 

“Because..I’m in love with you, Al..” You whispered out and the truth set upon him like the sun's last ray of light. He was in love with you as well.  His sneer vanished as he leaned down closing his eyes as his forehead touched yours and he sobbed like he was a little boy who scraped his knee and ran home to his Mama. His clawed hands carefully caressing your cheeks trying to burn the feeling into his memory, “I love you..” the words fell out of his mouth as if he was back in the hospital watching his Mama slowly slip away. “I love you.”  He repeated this time with much more confidence but he was still apprehensive. 

“I love you, Alastor.” The words came out easy for you and he envied it but the way your gentle and soft hands cupped his made his undead heart skip a beat. But he didn’t need to be scared anymore, he had you with him. “Don’t pull that silly stunt again.”

A/N: THE AMOUNT OF TIMES I CRIED IS UNBELIEVABLE

[holllandtrash]

haunted | daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader (part 2 to fragile line)

Can't breathe whenever you're gone Can't turn back now, I'm haunted

you're racing. daniel isn't, but he's not gone either, is he? word count: 7.6k (im so sorry) warnings/tags: angst really, more incorrect f2 stats but whatever, time jumps again, platonic love all around, not as big of a rollercoaster as part 1 but just wait till part 3 lol

“Do you know?”

“Do I know what?” You asked, wondering why that was the first thing your teammate said when you opened the door to your flat. 

Lando didn’t even bother with a ‘hey, how was your day, what’s up’, he was just straight to the point, only you had no idea what the point was. 

He was still on a high after coming in second place the other day, so you let the impoliteness slide. Usually Lando didn’t look like a mix between a sweaty mess and a confused child, but you assumed he was like this because whatever was on his mind was important.

“You haven’t- did you-” Lando stammered over his words. “When’s the last time you checked your phone?”

You felt around in your pockets and glanced over your shoulder with a bit of a shrug. If you were being honest, you hadn’t looked at your phone in a few hours. Your morning was spent training and running errands now that you had some time and were home for a little while before the next race. You were still carrying a lot of energy after your successful finish in Silverstone that sitting still and scrolling through your phone was the last thing you wanted to be doing right now.

“Can you just find your phone, please?” Lando asked, because he didn’t want to be the person to break the news. He came over to talk to you, to walk you through it, to be someone to vent to if you needed it, but the last thing he wanted was to be the one to say it. 

It took a minute, but you found it in your bedroom, the screen lighting up and vibrating with each notification. As you walked back towards Lando, you scrolled through them all, trying to see which was the most important. 

Eventually, you landed on one from the official F1 app.

Daniel Ricciardo Replaces Nyck de Vries

Daniel Ricciardo was returning to the grid.

Daniel was coming back. 

But did he ever really leave in the first place?

You hadn’t spoken to him since that day in Monaco, almost a year ago now. The day your relationship fell apart, crumbling to pieces around you. 

You thought maybe, maybe, he’d call you before the next race or at least try to find you somewhere in the paddock to have a civil conversation but that didn’t happen. 

Of course, neither of you had time for a conversation anyway.

Daniel released his video 24 hours before media day in Belgium, announcing he would be leaving the team. It broke your heart watching it in your hotel room, knowing he was only a few floors up and probably struggled to record it. You could picture him retaking it a few times, just to get the words right, his tone right. He didn’t want to paint McLaren as being at fault for this decision, even if that was the case. 

If you weren’t the driver who was set to replace him, you would have been there in that room giving him encouraging nods and telling him to just speak to the fans. You would have been there when his head fell back against the wall in defeat, eyes closed as the weight of his unknown future crashed down on him. You would have crawled onto his lap and held him, telling him that another team was going to be desperate for him. 

Instead you were in your own room, watching the video like the millions of other followers he had. The only difference was, none of those followers asked themselves if they were to blame. 

It was just you, wiping the corner of your eyes and asking yourself if this was your fault. 

Surely when your news dropped, people would start pointing fingers, people would talk. 

Daniel Ricciardo trained her, they would say. He helped her get to this point and now she’s taking his seat. 

They’d throw assumptions into the wind about how this was probably your plan all along. 

It wasn’t, of course. Your plan was to get a seat in Formula 1 and see Daniel as friendly competition when you stepped onto the grid. You wanted to keep the support system alive when you moved up, knowing you had someone watching your back when you climbed out of the car. You wanted to be able to go home with him at the end of the night on Sunday and watch the race back with him, playfully critiquing each other's moves and ideally celebrating your victories, together.

You never wanted to leave him without a seat. 

But part of you must have known he wasn’t driving next year, right? You never brought up the contract, he never talked about leaving, nor did he talk about potentially moving to another team, which seemed like something you’d talk to your partner about. 

Daniel said nothing. You said nothing. And in the back of your head you knew he wasn’t signed to another team, you just didn’t want to accept it. 

You didn’t want to admit that part of that was your fault. 

Zak Brown put you in the worst position possible. He was giving you the chance to make your dream a reality, but in doing so, you were losing the one person who shared that dream with you. 

It shouldn’t have been hard to put on a smile during that post-race interview in Spa. You finished second, your hot streak had continued despite the turmoil your heart was going through. So not only was the adrenaline pumping through your veins from the podium, but McLaren had decided that morning was the perfect time to announce you were replacing Daniel. 

They didn’t word it like that, though. They just stated that you were to race for McLaren for 2023. No mention of Daniel, even if that was all anyone had questions about. 

“Second place in Spa, how are you feeling?” The reporter asked as you struggled to get comfortable in the white leather chair, your trophy at your feet. 

You weren’t surprised he, Richard from the official FIA reporting team, jumped directly to you, bypassing any questions for Liam Lawson who finished third. No one had yet to get a comment on your official move to F1, not having any time this morning since the news was announced. 

“It's exciting, it’s good to be back as well,” you nodded, turning to Felipe on your right who nodded as well. “A break is always needed, but there’s really no better feeling than getting back behind the wheel.”

“You’ve never podiumed here before,” Richard pointed out, “There’s quite a difference in performance from last year to this year, we’ve all noticed.” 

“Is there a question in there somewhere?” You laughed, not caring at all if it sounded forced, and you knew it did because Liam raised his hand to mouth to hide his chuckle and tried to play it off like he was just scratching his jaw. 

“Well it’s just no wonder that McLaren has snatched you up for the 2023 season, with how much you’ve shown this year what you’re capable of. Care to comment on that?” 

There it was. The first official request to talk about McLaren. 

“I mean, we’ve all seen the news at this point,” another laugh but this time it was more out of discomfort. 

You looked at Felipe, he nodded again but it was short and encouraging, silently telling you it was okay to take the spotlight even though it was him who had won this race. 

You cleared your throat, thinking about what the PR team from McLaren told you. You’re focused on Prema. McLaren knows this. McLaren is supporting you while you finish your F2 season and by all means, shut down any topic regarding Daniel Ricciardo. 

“Really, I’m just focused on finishing the season off strong with Prema,” you told Richard, feeling your smile start to slip because how could you be excited over that or a trophy when you knew what he was thinking and what the whole world was thinking. 

You prayed he wouldn’t bring it up, but the media world was hell. 

“And Daniel’s departure-

Liam promptly lifted the mic to lips, cutting off Richard before he could finish that thought. “We’ll all miss her, I think that’s safe to say. But maybe it’ll be a bit easier for the rest of us to podium when she’s gone.”

Quiet laughter spread through the audience and you just turned to Liam and mouthed a quick ‘thank you’. He didn’t say anything back, just dropped his head to your shoulder for a second and smiled, playing up the whole we’ll miss her statement. It wasn’t an act, though. Most of the guys you raced with had stopped you at some point this morning sharing their congrats and giving you a hug, telling you that you deserved that spot in F1. 

Even Felipe said it and meant it, and he was on the fast track to win this year, also eyeing a spot in F1. You had a good support system in this series. 

He dropped his head to your other shoulder and your lips fell into a playful pout, raising your hands to the sides of both driver’s faces. It made a cute photo. The F1 social media team really played into the love you had from your competitors. 

You had a lot of support in the paddock, surprisingly, from other drivers. 

Mick found you before his own race started. He was your first teammate during your rookie season in F2, it only made sense he was the first current driver to congratulate you.  

“You deserve it,” Mick told you, arms tightly wrapped around your body as he gave you a comforting embrace that almost compared to the one you were craving from Daniel, but still something was missing. 

Mick’s contract was up at the end of 2022, and no one knew where he was going but he assured you that no matter what, he’d be on your side. 

You sort of interacted with Lando on Sunday after your feature race. When you passed him in the paddock, he held his hand out for a fist bump and gave you a wide smile. The cameras caught it, they caught everything apparently, and it was the first photo you saw on social media when you got to the airport late Sunday evening. 

First of many celebratory fist bumps, McLaren’s caption said. It was a nice photo, truly. 

Too bad the comments were anything but. 

Not McLaren hyping up the fact that Danny’s girlfriend is replacing himIsn’t she only fourth in the driver standings in F2 lol We don’t want her we want the honey badgerEven worse when you think about the fact that they are literally in a relationship and she’s taking his seatNo class from any of them

No one seemed to know that you and Daniel were done, but how would they know? Your relationship was private, your break up would be too. 

Your break up. 

And then it hit you. Right there in the airport. After the adrenaline of a podium had worn off. After the excitement of signing with a new team had passed. After you were finally left alone after being surrounded by your team and drivers and press all day, you broke down. 

It was embarrassing. The only saving grace was the fact that you were sat in the corner of the premium lounge, facing the windows, so at least no one could see you cry. You weren’t quiet though, you knew your faint sobs could be heard from anyone within a 3 metre radius.

And you knew how immature this was, crying in an airport. But when you felt things you felt them with every fibre in your being. You were overjoyed beyond words, shaking when you got first podium in F2, and then feeling that multiplied by fifty when you won in Monaco. 

You were madly in love with Daniel, despite only dating for a year. It wasn’t young love, puppy love, a whirlwind romance, or any of those sappy headlines. You were head over heels, ready to spend your life with the man who lifted you up above the rest of the world. Who not only put you on a pedestal, but made sure other people did too. He was always in your corner, even before you started dating. He loved you long before you even realised you could also love him. 

As an athlete, as a future world championship contender, as a friend, Daniel loved you. 

The day you knew you loved him, you knew you were screwed, you both talked about the risks. 

Fragile line, you called it, walking a tightrope, he joked. There was such a huge margin of error, so many things that could go wrong by falling in love with, not only a driver but the driver who mentored you. 

The media would turn against you. Sponsors would shake their heads. Your future could have been jeopardised. You’d be labelled as a poor role model for girls in motorsport. 

You walked a dangerous and delicate line with Daniel, but you didn’t think it would snap beneath your feet. You never thought you’d be the one to break it. 

So yes, you were full on sobbing in the airport as you waited to board your flight to Amsterdam. 

“Pretty sure podium winners aren’t usually this distraught.”

You heard the British accent and immediately sat up, wiping your eyes and sniffling to at least try and make it seem like you weren’t crying. You turned your head and watched as Lando sat down next to you on the dark blue chair, resting a leg over his knee. 

You didn’t say anything, you just stared at him, worrying that if you did try to talk, all that would come out would be more cries. 

Lando reached into the front pocket of his backpack and pulled out a travel size pack of tissues, tossing them to you without so much as a word. He waited a few minutes as you composed yourself, using some of the tissues and pocketing the rest for later. 

“You okay?” Lando asked, sounding concerned for your well being because he had a point, podium winners aren’t usually this distraught. 

“Am I okay?” You repeated back followed with a playful scoff. “Do I look okay?” 

“You look awful.”

“I feel awful.”

Lando nodded, clearly unsure what to do in this situation. His current teammate, his friend, was leaving at the end of this year and his new teammate, a girl he had barely had 5 conversations with, was having a breakdown in the airport. 

Lando, whether he liked it or not, knew he would be caught in the middle of whatever this mess was for the next few months or so. 

He knew you and Daniel were an item. Daniel told himself shortly after Silverstone, and only because Lando had asked, simply curious.

“You and Y/N,” he started off, hesitantly, seeing the two of you interact much more flirtatiously then you had before. “You two are..” he didn’t know how to word it. 

Daniel just winked, “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

That pretty much confirmed it. And then when you started showing up in the back of the McLaren garage during race weekends, Lando sort of accepted it, quickly getting used to seeing you around. 

You were always friendly with each other, but your attention was always on Daniel, too. Lando saw the way you were quick to rush to his side after a difficult race. How you were the first one Daniel looked for when he stepped out of the car, eyes searching the sea of orange for you. Lando heard the way Daniel talked about you, the way he praised you, telling everyone who would listen that you deserved a spot in Formula 1. That man had a note saved on his phone of your stats, race wins, qualifying times, records broken, all of it. 

Daniel loved you. Everyone who knew him saw it, and Lando was no exception. 

So one could imagine the uncertainty he felt as he approached you in the airport. Surely you and Daniel weren’t together anymore, right? Or were you somehow going to work through this? Could you work through it? Taking his seat?

Lando, like everyone else, was dying to know. 

“Has he said anything?” You asked him before Lando had a chance to get a word out. That question alone confirmed that you and Daniel weren’t on speaking terms at least.

“About you?” Lando asked and when you nodded, he saw the devastation hit your eyes as he shook his head. “Honestly he wasn’t very talkative today, left right after the post race stuff.”

“How is he?” You then asked. “Has he- is there any word on him finding a seat next year?” You pulled your knees up to your chest, staring hopefully at the British driver. 

It pained Lando to shake his head again, “Not yet, but it’s still pretty early. I’m sure he’ll find a seat.”

You nodded, praying that Lando was right. When you dropped your chin to your knees, averting your eyes when you felt the tears well up again, Lando’s chest grew tight. He felt bad for you. This was a hard position for you to be in. 

“It’s not your fault, you know,” Lando assured you. “Danny’s one of the best there is, but the results just aren’t there. Zak didn’t see any point in continuing if it’ll just end up being more of the same.”

Lando tried to be encouraging, really, and you were thankful for that, but he got the hint after a while that you just didn’t want to talk about it. Before leaving you alone, he gave you his number and told you that if you needed anything, to just reach out. 

You were always friendly with Lando, but that was the start to your friendship.

It was Lando who shared your picture when you claimed first place in Zandvoort, celebrating your success with a cheeky caption stating how he better see you bring the hot streak to McLaren next year. He was the one who interrupted your post-race interview in Monza, spotting you in the paddock being interviewed by Will Buxton. Lando, despite needing to follow his own pre-race schedule, came and draped an arm over your shoulder and playfully interrupted whatever Will was trying to say.

“Look at that,” Will laughed when you struggled to shake Lando’s arm off of you, “Future teammates. Lando, how excited are you to be working with this incredible talent next year?”

“Oh extremely excited,” Lando answered, leaning into the mic gripped between your fingers. “She won’t be able to keep up with me though.”

And that it was it. He ruffled his hand through your hair and took off again.

He checked in on you between races, whenever a new headline was trending, whenever someone from social media had the audacity to compare yours and Daniels stats and pin you against each other as if there wasn’t already enough you were struggling with.

Lando didn’t want you to come into the new season already feeling defeated. He was still friends with Daniel, he always would be, but he had a kind heart. He wanted you to know that he wasn’t on anyones ‘side’, but more importantly, he saw you as a driver, as his next teammate. He didn’t see you as Daniel’s ex who was now stealing his seat like half of the world did.

It was also his car that you drove during the practice sessions in Austin and Abu Dhabi. Lando happily stepped aside for you, giving you a supportive pat on the back and strategically blocking your line of sight towards Daniel as he got ready for his sessions as well.

You still hadn’t spoken. You hadn’t even looked at each other. You tried, honestly, to catch his eye but he refused to even glance your way. He was in and out of that car so quick, finding any excuse to leave the garage while you were there.

It hurt. You knew his mind was made up. He was upset, he was hurt, he wanted nothing to do with you and seeing you in his garage sent him spiralling.

All you saw was Daniel turning his back on you, but what you didn’t know was this situation was giving Daniel constant headaches. He couldn’t look at you, the girl he loved, and watch you climb into the McLaren knowing that you’d be doing that throughout the entire next season and he wouldn’t.

All he ever wanted was to see you in a Formula 1 car, but not like this. 

You stood in Lando’s side of the garage during the last race. You wore your McLaren jacket, you had the orange headphones on as stared up at the screen. Your back was towards Daniel’s car, so you missed the way he did actually look at you. It pained him to see how well you blended in with the team, his team. He almost told himself it looked like you belonged there, but he quickly put his helmet on and climbed into his car, gearing up for the race.

He finished 9th. Lando finished 6th. And with that, the season ended.

Daniel was done.

You watched him celebrate with those closest to him. You stood off to the side and thought about how if things were different, you’d be clinging to him, sweaty race suit and all, waiting to congratulate him in your own way back at the hotel. You would tell him you loved him, that he didn’t need McLaren. You’d joke and say that you two could form your own team, because that’s what you should have been till the end, a team. 

But that wasn’t the case anymore. McLaren was your team now.

It was only a matter of days until Daniel spoke to the media about his departure. 

“I can’t speak ill of her,” Daniel said, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. He knew that coming on this podcast that he’d be asked about you and your contract. He was advised against it but the second his working relationship ended with McLaren, he agreed to talk, to share his side.

“But she’s the one who took your seat,” Jaycee so politely pointed out. “As happy as I am to see a female in Formula 1, it’s bittersweet knowing a driver such as yourself is left without a spot.”

Daniel sighed into the mic in front of him, “McLaren handed her her dream on a papaya platter and she grabbed it. I think a lot of drivers would do the same in that scenario.”

“But it stings a little more, doesn’t it?” Greyson, her co-host asked. “Because you two were-

“Friends, yeah,” Daniel interrupted. “Yeah we were close.”

“You mentored her,” Greyson pushed for more of an admittance as to what their relationship was. “You were seen with her and the Prema team during a handful of weekends. She even said you were her mentor.”

Daniel naturally hesitated, “I saw her potential early on and I wanted to help her grow. I really did want to see her in Formula 1, despite what anyone says about the situation she’s an incredible driver.”

“Everyone who follows Formula 1 knows you have a strong connection,” Jaycee said, subtly trying to pry for more as well. “After her Silverstone crash in 2021 you were in her garage. And then you were seen in Monaco together a few weeks later. You two weren’t just friends in the paddock, you worked closely together outside of race weekends too-

“Did your girlfriend take your seat or not?” Greyson blurted out, earning a glare from Jaycee on his left, but he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He wanted to know, the whole world wanted to know what was going on between you and Daniel now that you were signed for McLaren. 

And you had to give props to Daniel, he played it off about as smoothly as he could. 

“McLaren sees more potential in her than me,” he said, still smiling because that’s who he was. A people pleaser, always grinning, always a breath of fresh air. “If they can give her what they promised me, then that’s good for all of them. Do I like how the situation went down? No, but that’s the reality of Formula 1. You’re not safe unless you’re winning and I wasn’t winning.”

“And your relationship-

“She doesn’t need a mentor anymore, does she?” Daniel asked, disregarding any ideas of the two of you dating. “She made it to Formula 1. That was what she wanted. I wish her well.” 

That was the closest thing to confirmation of your break up that anyone would get. 

And the interview ended shortly after that, doing wonders on Spotify and Apple Podcasts. You listened to it also, just waiting for Daniel to say something horrible but of course he didn’t. That wasn’t him. He was the good guy. He was the hero. He got you to Formula 1 and was holding his head up high, wishing you well and thanking McLaren for the last 2 years. 

You wished it ended there, the conversations surrounding you. It should have ended there. 

But fast forward to the awards dinner at the end of the year, just shortly after the last race of the season. 

You sat with your mum at a round table with Felipe and his partner and few other people involved in Formula 2. 

You had finished second in the standings, not first like you had dreamt of, but Felipe told you that first place in the championship would come in F1, don’t worry. 

And you weren’t sure who had made the seating chart, but from where you sat, you could easily see Daniel at his table, only a few metres away from your own. He sat with some of his friends and some people from his personal team. He was also purposely avoiding looking in your direction, knowing that if he did, he’d be making eye contact for the first time in months. 

He’d see your stunning features and bright eyes standing out among the rest. He’d see the low cut, thinly strapped black dress, showing off the collarbones he used to mark with his lips, the trail between your breast and down to your navel that he used to make with his tongue. If he looked at you, he’d think of all the ways the night would have ended if things were different. 

If he looked at you, he’d be reminded that the girl he loved was the one who broke him. He’d be reminded that as hurt as he was by your actions, by taking his seat, he couldn’t forget the memories you made, the moments he shared, the way he used to admire you. 

He didn’t love you anymore, though. He couldn’t. He forced those feelings out, replacing them with regret for ever deciding to help you because if he hadn't helped you, it wouldn’t have been you that took his seat. 

So Daniel looked at the stage, his friends, his food. He didn’t look at you. 

He didn’t even look at you when you walked up to collect your trophy, choosing that moment to be the perfect time to walk up to the open bar. He ordered a few more drinks and a shot on a whim, downing it back before walking to the table, 2 freshly poured glasses of rum and cokes in hand. 

Daniel got drunk that night. He didn’t mean to, but it helped him deal with all he had going on. It was a good way to end the 2022 season, to put it behind him. You, McLaren, all of it. 

Someone should have stopped him when he noticed you about to leave at the end of the night, a white coat draped over your shoulders. That should be my blazer, Daniel thought, thinking of the countless nights he had given you his jacket for warmth. 

You were in the middle of a conversation with someone from Prema when you felt a tug in your arm. When you looked up and saw it was Daniel who was pulling you off to the side, your heart sank. There were no butterflies anymore, just a lot of anxiety and guilt eating you from the inside. 

You could tell he hadn’t thought through what he was going to say. For a split second, his gaze was soft, almost like he thought about congratulating you for a successful season. For a moment, proud Daniel was back and for a moment, you got your hopes up. Maybe this line you broke could be fixed.

It was a bad sign when his eyes grew cold, features hardening along with them. This man, who was all you wanted, stared at you like you were a stranger, and maybe you were now. 

He opened his mouth and the room around you fell dark and quiet. It was your mind playing horrible tricks on you, putting a spotlight in this moment in time so it would haunt your memories after tonight. You knew the earth was still spinning, that people around you were still moving, but you couldn’t trust anything, frozen in this space with Daniel. 

“I hope you’re happy,” Daniel spoke softly, but his words cut through you like a knife. If someone told you that your heart was bleeding, you’d believe it. That’s certainly what it felt like.

He didn’t want you to be happy. He didn’t want you taking his seat. He didn’t want to see you live out his dream. He put on a beautiful charade for the press, but deep down you knew, he saw you as nothing more but a mistake. He no longer wanted you to succeed, despite telling the world he wished you would. 

"Daniel-"

You automatically reached for him and he flinched backwards. It hurt, seeing him react how he was. He didn’t want you touching him, he just wanted to get one more word in, wanted you to know that he was still bitter and would be for a while. 

You stood there and watched him walk away, haunted by the pain and broken trust in his eyes, a look that would become burned into your mind during your restless sleeps. 

And then there was the week where you just didn’t sleep. The week after Daniel’s contract with Red Bull was announced. 

He wasn’t driving with them, but he wasn’t leaving Formula 1 either. 

He’d still be around the paddock during selective race weekends. He’d be there, putting on a show for the fans because everyone loved him. Everyone wanted him on the grid, and if he couldn’t race, at least he was still there in the garage as a reserve driver. 

The same excitement couldn’t be said for you. 

Despite forming a close bond with Lando really early into the pre-season, it helped that he was only two years younger than you, you were not met with open arms and loud cheers. 

You had some supporters, a lot actually, but nothing compared to Daniel’s fans. You were pulled alert and critiqued for every move you made. You could understand the questions that circulated when you didn’t even finish the first race in Bahrain, retiring early because of an engine problem. Did Zak really make the right move by replacing Daniel with you? What could you bring to the team if this was how you started the season?

But it was the talk about what you did off the track that really got to you. You didn’t care if people weren’t a fan of your driving, you knew F1 fans had their favourites and you knew you weren’t everyone’s. 

However social media had a way of spinning everything. You lost count of the ridiculous rumours. Apparently, you were now replacing Daniel with Lando because that playful interview you did talking about red flags in relationships really gave away the fact you were sleeping together. 

Oh you were also sleeping with Mick Schumacher, because you had a thing for reserve drivers, it seemed. And the way he found you after your second race without points again in Saudi Arabia made it so obvious that you were with him. 

And you couldn’t forget about how big of a bitch you were, choosing to not acknowledge Daniel in Australia when you walked past him in the paddock. It was his home race, he was the reason you were even racing, and you couldn’t even stop and give him a smile? 

These rumours were truly getting annoying.

Of course, you couldn’t come out and tell people that Lando was seeing someone because it was so new and private and not your story to tell. No one cared that Mick was your teammate at Prema in 2020 and you guys had always been friends. No one would believe you if you said that you didn’t even see Daniel in the paddock, being too engrossed in your conversation to notice that the Australian was walking past. 

You grew to hate seeing him during race weekends. 

It was a constant reminder of what could have been. 

What if you had waited a year and signed with McLaren then? Would Daniel still hold this hatred towards you if his contract played out like it was supposed to? 

What if you signed with a different team like Williams instead, and someone else replaced Daniel? If Oscar Piastri had taken his spot, would Daniel be this resentful still to see you driving? Or would he happily walk by your side in the paddock, him in Red Bull polo, you in your Williams racing suit? Would he have accompanied you during the race weekends when he didn’t have Red Bull duties?

Was there ever a scenario where he stood in your garage and watched you race? Cheering you on, despite what place you finished? Despite where he was in his own career?

Or was that just a far fetched dream? 

Because let’s face it, if Daniel was still racing this year, it would be hard to support you and focus on his own season. How could he be happy if he DNF’d and you finished in the points? How could you be happy if the media would say that you were only using Daniel to get ahead? 

If you had signed for Williams and Daniel was still replaced, it would be difficult for him to watch you race, to watch you do what he loved. How could he be in your corner when he no longer had a corner of his own to stand in? 

Maybe you were doomed from the start. Fragile line, you said. How true that was. It was always going to snap.

You heard through the grapevine that Daniel had said you taking his seat before his contract was even up was the worst thing you could have possibly done. 

Was that in regards to McLaren? To your relationship? From a sportsmanship standpoint? You had no idea. You just knew Daniel wasn’t impressed that you were racing and he wasn’t.  

You hated seeing him during the few races he attended. You were petrified to run into him in the paddock, in the pit lane, in the hotel for christ sakes, you didn’t want to see him. At one point, you were desperate for even just a smidge of attention from him and now you felt sick whenever you heard he would be in attendance.

You went five races in a row without scoring any points. You could practically hear Daniel’s smug expression when you crossed the finish line each time. He was probably eating this up, knowing you were the one struggling now. 

The only difference was, you didn’t have him to turn to after a shitty run in the McLaren. 

Lando tried to be helpful, but he was struggling too. People called the car a tractor and honestly, so did you and Lando in private. You had a group chat with your personal trainers and the four of you called yourselves the farmers. The jokes made and lighthearted conversations shared were the only silver linings during this depressing start of a season.

Monaco was better, sort of. 

You finished 10th, so at least that was a point under your belt. 

But Daniel was everywhere. 

He loved Monaco, he lived in Monaco, of course it was no surprise he was there that weekend.

You found yourself jogging past his flat the Thursday before the race, and you didn’t do it on purpose but it was the same route you had taken all of those times you had spent days on end at Daniel’s. Sometime he joined you for those morning runs, sometime you’d return and he was making breakfast.

But you came to a stop on the opposite side of the street and stared up at it, recognising his balcony instantly. You saw the plant in the corner that you had given him a few months into your relationship and despite him claiming he wasn’t a plant guy, he managed to keep it alive.

Your heart felt heavy. All you wanted was to knock on his door and be welcomed in with wide arms and that stupid smile of his. You wanted to not feel anxious when you saw him in the paddock. You wanted to not be holding your breath every time you got out of the racecar, wondering what Daniel thought of your run. 

You were simultaneously on edge at all moments while also still dying to make him proud. You didn’t think that would ever go away.

Even during the weekends he wasn’t there, you were looking over your shoulder constantly. Even if you knew that he was on the other side of the world, he was still on your mind. He haunted your thoughts from the moment you walked into the garage to when you got out of the car at the end of the race weekend.

Lando called you out on it that Thursday in Silverstone.

“You’re in your head,” he told you, seeing how your main focus wasn’t racing, it was Daniel. You were unsure what he was referring to though and Lando just rolled his eyes, “Well actually, Daniel’s in your head. And he’s keeping you from being the driver I know you can be.”

That was all he said on the topic. 

And he was right.

You were so worried about Daniel. About what he would think of your races. About trying to avoid him during the weekends he was there. About still trying to make him proud but not too proud where he resented you more for taking his seat. About the hundreds of scenarios that could have happened if you had made a different choice.

Because of all of these thoughts, that seat at McLaren was still very much Daniel’s. You allowed it to be.

You needed to stop telling yourself you took his seat because that’s what it would always be then, his seat. Lando stood up, patting your knee after dropping those few words and you decided right then and there that it was your seat. 

You wouldn’t let Daniel haunt you anymore. 

And qualifying was where this new mentality really showed. 

You were buzzing with energy when your engineer told you that you had gotten P3 and were starting on the second row for tomorrows race. You climbed out of the car in parc ferme and ran directly to Lando. He hugged you, he was proud of you. 

“That’s the driver we all know,” Lando said when he pulled his helmet off. His hand was on your shoulder, both of you were wearing identical smiles of pure joy. “Where the hell has she been all this time?”

You didn’t even have an answer, too excited about what this meant for you, for the team. You post-quali interviews went by in a blur, your hands were shaking the entire time. You blacked out during it, still trying to process the fact that you had finished third in qualifying, but you did remember Lando reaching over at one point and dropping his hand to your knee. It was polite, it didn’t mean anything more than a playful stop shaking you’re making us all look bad, but god did the media run with it. 

You didn’t let anything on social media get to you, telling yourself that you had to stay focused for the race. In fact you even gave your phone to your trainer, Oliver, asking him to take it for the night and to just wake you up in the morning.

And Oliver was a good trainer, he had also become a good friend since you joined McLaren so you trusted him with your phone. 

Which meant he knew your password. 

So when he saw your phone light up that night with a text from Daniel, Oliver panicked. He knew the right thing to do would be to just leave it alone, you’d see it in the morning. You’d see the message. The short but seemingly sweet;

P3, nice job

But a text like that would send you spiralling and you didn't need that before one of the most important races of the season for you, Oliver knew this. He knew you were supposed to be getting over Daniel, he knew how much the Australian just being in the paddock messed with your mind. He knew you had to focus on racing.

There was so much uncertainty with the text. Was this him extending an olive branch? Was he genuine, or was this supposed to be taken with a bit of salt? Oliver could read it both ways. Either Daniel was truly happy for you, or this could be dripping with sarcasm. P3, sure, but remember who’s seat you’re in.

Oliver decided to delete the text. There was no trace of it when he handed the phone back to you the next day. 

Maybe that was for the best, no one knew. 

All you knew was you were starting third today.

All Daniel knew was you had ignored him, and now you were walking right past him down the paddock, side by side with Lando as you talked about today’s race. Daniel turned his head and saw the two of you, drawing his own conclusions. 

Whatever was going through his mind, one thing seemed certain. You didn’t need him anymore. You had the seat, the team, someone new supporting you, why would you still need Daniel?

You went about your day, the same pre-race rituals. Lando checked in more than normal, it was an exciting day for both of you, but he knew he was also a good distraction to keep your mind off of Daniel, he knew you would be struggling to keep from thinking about him. 

“It’s you and me,” Lando told you right before the race. “It’s our day, yeah? We’ve got this.”

Lando was in your corner. You were in his. 

Which meant you were there to celebrate after the race when he took home second place. You had claimed fourth, which was also something to be proud of, and you were, but you were also craving that podium. You could almost taste it, it was so close. 

“Next time,” Lando assured you, having full confidence that you’d be holding the trophy at the following race. He handed you a bottle of champagne, telling you to drink up and enjoy and for once, you did. 

You were happy. You finally felt like you could accomplish something amazing at McLaren, despite the horrible start. Lando had gotten a podium, yours was coming, you could feel it. 

You didn’t think about Daniel at all that night. It was the first night in a long time where you didn’t see his face when you closed your eyes. 

And you would have loved to keep celebrating after that night, to keep the high of Lando's podium and your 4th place finish last until the next race, but all good things must come to an end. 

You stood in front of Lando now, unsure how to take the news about Daniels’ return. Were you allowed to be happy for him? Of course you wanted to see him in a seat, this was the ideal situation, both of you driving this season. What would this mean for the two of you moving forward?

But he had done the exact same thing you had done by replacing a driver before their contract was up.

Daniel made you feel awful about that decision and now here he was, making the exact same one. He was no better than you. He was no hero, he wasn’t the good guy. He was a driver, desperate for a seat, as were you. As was every single person wanting to race in this series. 

You were on the same playing field now.

He was going to be at every single race for the rest of the season, as a competitor on the grid. Something you once dreamt of, both of you dreamt of, was finally coming true. 

But that’s all he would be. A competitor. Another driver. Another car to overtake. You always thought that when this moment came, you’d still be a team when you left the track at the end of the day and that just wasn’t the reality you found yourself in. 

“He’s back,” Lando said, hands shoved in his pockets trying to gauge your reaction. 

Daniel was returning to Formula 1, but you knew he was never actually gone in the first place.

He was in your thoughts, your dreams, your memories, he was everywhere all of the time. Even when you crossed the finish line in Silverstone, there was still a part of you that was wondering if Daniel was watching. As much as you tried to avoid him, your eyes still scanned every single crowd for him.

And now you didn’t need to look anymore. 

part 3 gone

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taglist: @yunnie-f1 @torossosebs @whatthefuckerr @jspitwall @oconso @tsarinablogs @landowecanbewc @somanyfandomsbruh @christianpulisic10 @storminacloud @sunnytkm23 @formula1mount @azxulaa @icarus-nex @spideyspeaches if i forgot someone im so sorry

[gilbirda]

Personal coach Red Hood

Idea by @impyssadobsessions where Jazz needs a personal trainer from a gotham hero and chooses red hood. Eventual ship content. This is more of a setting so far but i have ideas. I accept ideas too, im just balling

I'm going to try a more chill and lax posting with this bad boy. I feel like my rigid way of organizing is making me feel restricted so this will be 1000% vibes and let's see where it goes.

Part 2

---

Jazz knew this was a stupid idea. Dangerous. Suicidal, maybe, depending on who would answer her call. But she still had to try.

You may be wondering how a twenty something young woman ends up following Gotham heroes around with a notepad. She wasn’t looking for an autograph, or for the latest scoop on the heroes, trying to uncover their secrets.

She was actually writing down their patterns and observations in behavior, trying to map their patrol routes and create a decent enough file and expectations of the heroes.

What did she need the information for?

She needed a personal trainer.

No, not the kind you hire at the gym. She already tried that and it didn’t work. She also tried MMA, and kickboxing and just to see if she could do it, Judo. All were interesting and gave her a pretty good picture of what her body was capable of, and a guesstimate of her physical limitations.

But no. She needed something else, something more… tailored for what she actually needed the training for.

She needed to intern with a hero. The term “sidekick” felt wrong for what she had in mind, since she didn’t want to be that hero’s trainee forever. Or was interested in the current superhero scene at all. They were doing just fine without her.

She just… she felt left out. Danny was amazing but he didn’t need her, not as much as she would have liked. He was a hero, and a pretty good one, but he wasn’t in any place to train her. Not that he wanted to, since he usually avoided her every time she brought it up.

Her baby brother was all grown up and he didn’t need his older sister anymore. 

Jazz shook her head. She was being ridiculous. Danny would always need her — she just needed to do her homework and keep up with him on her own. If she just trained enough and could hold her own in ghost fights, she was sure Danny would be grateful and appreciate her support. Who knows, maybe he would be happy that he didn’t need to be wary of ghosts day and night, and actually rest and focus on his neglected studies.

She yawned, lamenting another night that looked to be a bust. Maybe the heroes were busy tonight? Maybe they were on a big mission away? Unlikely that all of them were away, there were usually at least a few of the Bats flying around the city.

Why Gotham, you may ask? Of all the funny-dressed crime fighters on Earth, why these people? 

Easy.

They were human.

That piqued Jazz’s interest. She had been between the Arrows and the Bats, but finally chose the Bats because Gotham had one perk over Star City: unlimited supply of ectoplasm. The place was almost as coated in the thing as Amity, which she was grateful for. It saved her from going back and forth to places rich with ghost activity and fishing blobs to eat.

Don’t ask too many questions about the consuming blob ghosts part. It was a necessary evil.

However, it’s been a few months and all she got to show for her efforts was a notepad filled with scribbles she painstakingly copied to her computer and a lot of frustration.

Until one night she caught Red Hood alone as he checked his phone. She waited until he was done texting — she had manners thank you very much — and jumped in front of him before he had the chance to grapple away.

“Hi— oof.” 

Thanks the ancients for her reflexes and Judo training, she blocked Hood's punch and following kick. It would probably bruise but it wasn't the end of the world.

“What the fuck?” 

“Hi,” she tried again, “I'm Jazz.”

He didn't punch her again, which she took as a good sign. Instead, he took a step back and squared up like he was expecting a fight.

“I’m not looking for a fight,” he scoffed but let her continue speaking, “I’m looking for… I guess you’d call it a mentor? That sounds weird… A personal trainer? No, that’s wrong too. Hm, I wonder if there’s a word for ‘person who is the only one that can teach you very specific information in a field of interest that legally, or otherwise—’.”

Red Hood cleared his throat, making her jump.

“Are you for real?”

“Yeah? I am real.”

Hood looked at her in silence for a few moments. Then, he sighed and rubbed one gloved hand against his helmet. 

“Listen, girl.”

“Jazz!”

“Jazz,” somehow she got the impression he grumbled, but the voice modulator did its job really well, “I have things to do, ok? Crimes to stop and stuff. So… yeah. Goodnight.”

He turned around and picked the grapple gun from inside his jacket.

“Wait!” 

He jumped and misfired the gun, hitting the wall of the building instead of the roof, like he was supposed to. As the gun recalled the rope, he looked over his shoulder at her. Jazz understood he was glaring at her, she could feel the daggers on her skin.

“Hear me out, ok?” He didn’t move or said anything. “I need— I have tried hiring a trainer, at… back at the gym. You know? But that wasn’t enough. I think I need to train with an actual hero—”

“Listen,” the word was accompanied by the hook of the grapple clicking into place, “whatever it is you are looking for, you definitely are not going to find it with me. So. Scramble.” 

He made a shooing gesture with one hand and aimed the gun without looking, shooting it and amazingly enough, hitting the edge of the rooftop. He made a salute as he was launched to the air at high speed.

Jazz didn’t follow, mesmerized by the skill. Hood landed with a flip and without breaking momentum, started running to the next rooftop, jumping impossible lengths. The way he moved was confident, powerful and measured.

She wanted to do that. She needed Red Hood to train her.

---

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[cinnamostar]

five dates to fall in love

part one. part two. part three (here). part four. part five. part six coming soon.

pairing : hyunjin x gn!reader

summary : after a two year long unspoken hatred, hyunjin and you are forced to be costars in a romantic series, but when it comes to filming any of the romance scenes, you both utterly fail and are unable to get through your lines. the director threatens to take your roles away if you two aren't able to get past this within the next week, which spawns the genius idea from both your managers: can you learn to (fake) fall in love in seven dates and save your careers?

wc : 2.7k

cw :actor!au, enemies to lovers ?!, slowburn (?!), not proofread, descriptors of insecurity and stuff, internal struggle but nothing serious

a/n : finally... its here... sorry for this taking long, i was traveling for holidays and then classes started but its here! lmk what you guys think :3 this chapter is a lot chiller imo... just trying to set a Vibe of emotional conflict... ALSO im not trying to paint hyunjin as the bad guy.,.,, but i think its also important to show that people will form opinions no matter what and will inevitably pick a side. so yus...

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Tears cascaded down your warm cheeks as you tossed yourself in your bed, the frustration and anger you were holding back finally catching up to you as quiet sobs escaped your lips. You hated how horrible the feeling of pure anger, as it always felt you were on the verge of bursting at the seams from how violent and erratic the emotion was as it overran your body. You had no idea what to do with it, always allowing it to linger til it overwhelmed you to the point of tears and surrendered to its burning grip. Your phone began to vibrate, which your hand mindlessly reached over for and picked up without second thought, as you knew it would be no other than Chan calling you at such a moment.

“Y/N… Are you okay?” concern dripped from Chan’s voice, while all you could muster out was a muffled grumble as you stuffed your tear-stained face into your pillows. “Right,” he responds, acknowledging your groan, “Well, I heard what happened through Changbin, so I called to check in on you.”

You take a deep breath in to soothe your hoarse throat from your onslaught of tears, praying your voice wouldn’t be too shaky as you spoke, “Well, I’m upset.”

“I don’t blame you one bit, I’d be just as upset as you are,” he reassured you gently, “Do you want to talk about it? Or do you need some more time to figure your feelings out?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble, turning your face away from the pillows so your voice was clearer, “I don’t know how to feel. It’s just a lot. It’s such a stupid reason for him to have just been so shitty to me for so long. He literally could’ve just asked me or talked to me about it instead of assuming.”

“Right, I agree. Even Changbin didn’t know about that being the reason,” added Chan, “I’m sure he lectured him on it because that is a crazy conclusion to jump to.”

“And I’m even more upset that was the conclusion he landed on! Why did he just assume I’d do something so terrible? Why did he not consider that I was trying to help him secure the role?”

“Sounds like he has an insecurity issue, if I had to guess, but who knows. You have every right to be upset, but there is another pressing matter we do need to address.”

You sigh, rolling onto your back as you use your free hand to rub your temples, “Yeah, I know. As upset as I am right now, I do still want to keep doing this project, but…”

“But…?”

“I don’t really… know if I can do that because I don’t wanna see his stupid face or go out on any other practice dates,” you huffed angrily, feeling a bit relieved to verbalize some of your feelings. 

“Well, I won’t force you to go on another date if you still need time to cool off, but maybe it will help you get used to seeing his stupid face after this. Plus, Changbin did tell me that you have permission to yell at Hyunjin if you wanna get that out the way.”

You let out a small chuckle, unsurprised to hear that Changbin said such a thing, “I’m not going to yell at him, but I appreciate the offer. I don’t know, I’m still really worked up from the whole thing.”

“Give yourself time, you can let me know in the morning how you’re feeling and we can go from there, okay?” Chan asks, the gentle tone of his voice bringing you a sense of comfort. 

“Okay, I’ll do that. Thanks Chan.”

“Of course, take care, Y/N.”

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The next morning rolled by rather quickly and while it would’ve been a lovely day to stay in bed, your stubbornness caused you to find yourself walking to your third date of the week. You were still terribly upset at Hyunjin and forgiveness was not in the cards at this point, yet you had other pressing matters that did not allow you to wallow up in hatred and resentment for him. You had to set your feelings aside for a moment in order to make some sort of progress on this current acting project, as you were way too excited for how the final product would turn out and truly believed in the success of the film.

Although, you didn’t have high hopes for today, as you expected it to be a similar outcome to your previous dates. Today’s day was Chan’s idea, which was attending a local farmer’s market in your area that provided all sorts of family-owned shops to look through, including a variety of food to choose from. It was a bit last minute, but Chan knew your love for these small events, so he hoped this would bring you some joy, but also give you the opportunity to wander off from Hyunjin if needed, while also giving you both the chance to talk about something. 

You were approaching the entrance to the park it was being hosted at, checking the time on your phone relieved to know you were on time. Honestly, while Hyunjin would probably be late once again, you didn’t mind the chance to enjoy bits of the market alone, especially on such a sunny day during these winter months. However, you were completely stunned to find Hyunjin waiting by the entrance as well, nonetheless waiting five minutes earlier than the time Chan had told you. He stood there awkwardly, both hands in the pockets of his coat as he bounced on the balls of his feet nervously, his eyes widening when his gaze finally lands on you.

You approach him with caution and a raised eyebrow, not completely believing the sight before you, “I didn’t expect you to be here so early,” you state curtly, trying your best to remain civil and cordial despite yesterday’s events.

“Well,” he stammered, his fingers jittering in his pockets, “I think I owe you an apology, and I thought showing up on time for once was one way to show that I am being genuine.”

“An apology?” you question, your ears not believing his words.

He sighs nervously, brushing a hand through his hair, “I have… realized I was entirely wrong about the situation, and I am truly sorry for that and for treating you so horribly the past two years we’ve known each other.” You wear an unconvinced expression, unsure what could’ve caused him to have a change of heart overnight, especially since he was just in deep denial the day before. He continues his statement after picking up on your apprehension, “I ended up reaching out to director Han about the situation and he… he told me how much you vouched for me when he spoke to you.”

You nod your head as you take in his words, “I see, well, I’m glad you’ve come to that realization and I accept your apology,” a hopeful look appears on his face, “But, I do need time before I can forgive you because the way you’ve treated me has really hurt me. And the fact that you thought I’d ever do that to you hurt me a lot too.”

His expression falters, but he offers an understanding smile, “I completely understand, I honestly do not even deserve your kindness right now, so thank you for being kind about this.”

You return his smile with a tightlipped one, still not entirely believing the sudden change in him, but you couldn’t lie, it did feel a bit nice to see him so timid and meek, and hearing an apology come from him did help loosen the knot of rage that laid dormant in your stomach. “Well,” you clear your throat awkwardly, trying to find a way to continue the day, “Do you want to head in?”

“Sure, lead the way,” he responds, his hands returning to his coat pockets as he anxiously trailed behind you. Eye bags hung on his face, indicating the restless night he had suffered due to the guilt he had been digesting since his phone call with the director. Hyunjin felt horrible after the revelation he had, feeling nothing but the heavy, deep seated weight of anxiety and guilt resting atop his chest. Even the sight of you made the feeling worse, facing the reality of how his actions have affected you all this time was a whole new hurdle he had to learn to conquer. The least he could do was try to be as kind as he could be from here on out, and brace himself for whatever angry slurry of curses you had for him, but how could Hyunjin forget? 

The volatile version of you he had become used to these past two years was not who you truly were, but something he provoked out of you through his incessant insults and stale attitude. In reality, you were an extremely kind and patient person outside of the context of your relationship with him, and your reaction to his apology was evidence of that. He couldn’t help it, he felt like such an idiot for thinking you, of all people, would have ever sabotaged an important role for him, and he only further deluded himself in that belief by pushing you to the point of petty toxicity. 

The best he could do was remain quiet as he followed your course through the various stalls, the shame only intensifying when he would witness your eyes widen with joy whenever you found an item that interested you, and how you even took the time to converse with each stall owner about their products. The genuinity in your nature was something he couldn’t believe he had denied for so long, disillusioned himself so far to have forgotten it. All for what? Because he couldn’t accept his own failures, or face the daunting insecurities about his talents that he held so closely to his heart? Perhaps it was your self-assuredness that caused a hint of jealousy to brew into this mess he had concocted today, your very confidence that struck a chord of envy within him. He didn’t quite understand what led him to act in such a manner, he could only guess why he was the way he was, but all he knew was that he owed you a lifetime of favors.

At the moment, he stood uncomfortably by your side as he watched you peruse through a few crocheted trinkets a stall had, afraid to disrupt the bits of peace you could’ve had with him tagging along. In all honesty, to an outsider, he probably looks like a child who got dragged along with his parents on a day out. You sigh as you place the trinket down, turning your head to catch his eyes darting around nervously, “Hyunjin,” you speak. He startles upon hearing his name, not expecting you to ever pay him any mind today. “I get this is awkward, but you can loosen up a bit. I don’t bite,” you chide with a hint of playfulness in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

He lets out a strained exhale, acknowledging your words, “You’re right, I just don’t want to make you feel weird or uncomfortable,” he confesses.

“Well, I think staying quiet doesn’t help that cause much, does it?” you ask rhetorically before adding on, “It’s okay. Have you seen anything you like from any of the stalls? I really like what this one has,” you muse, a gentle smile taking your features as you hold up a small crocheted keychain of a  jellyfish with a wobbly smile on it, “He’s kinda silly looking, I think I might take him home with me.”

Hyunjin lets out an airy chuckle, his shoulders relaxing a tad, “He definitely is funny looking,” he replies, “Ah, I don’t know. There’s so much here, this is my first time going to something like this.”

“Oh, this is your first time? You’ve never been to the farmer’s market ever?”

“Nope, never been, but this is nice. It’s a lot better than I imagined.”

“You’ve been missing out, I love going to these. I try to go every now and then whenever I’m free,” you took out your wallet, handing the vendor cash to pay for the keychain, “There’s always fun knick knacks here, and everyone is so sweet. You sure there’s nothing you wanna stop by before grabbing some food?”

His eyes scan the stalls surrounding you both, but you notice them lingering at a small jewelry stall that sold handcrafted rings, ones that definitely fit his aesthetic. “Come on,” you motion him to follow you to the stand, “Maybe you’ll see something you’ll like.” He follows behind you, still in a timorous manner, but you could see the way his eyes brighten once he realizes where you were dragging him off to. Although you were far from friends, it didn’t mean you weren’t aware of how particular he could be when it came to fashion, and you wanted him to at least get something out of today after suffering intense awkwardness. 

It was now your turn to watch Hyunjin look through the assortment of jewelry the owner had laid out and of course, he was gravitating towards the silver rings, each with their own intricate designs that demonstrated the amount of artistry and talent the owner held. He looks overwhelmed with the amount of choices before him, indecisive as he holds two different rings in his hands, modeling each to figure out which one he liked best. “Why not just get both of them?” you ask.

“Both?” he ponders on the suggestion, “I guess I could do that.”

“Or,” you start, picking up a ring that you thought would suit his taste, “get this one instead,” you hand him the ring, a knowing smile on your face.

His mouth fell in surprise at it, slipping it on his finger as his eyes marvelled, “Wow, this one is so nice,” he mumbles while now placing the two previous rings away, “How did you know I’d like this one?”

You shrug nonchalantly, turning away from him, “You know, we were friends once,?” you remind him, “Just get it, find me by the food stands once you pay for it.”

He stays in his place as he watches you walk away, once more left speechless by your kindness as he begins to wonder how you were able to treat him as such. The guilt that made its home in his stomach began to rumble, the bitter taste of it overpowering his sense as he comes to terms with just how wrong he was all this time, and how awful he had been to someone as gentle as you.

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The day had come to an end, and surprisingly the latter half went better than either of you could have expected. In a way, it was like time hadn’t passed as you both chatted effortlessly over food from whatever food truck caught each of your attentions. You both caught up on what you missed in each other’s lives during your heated rivalry, and somehow, every part of the conversation felt natural, nothing felt out of place and it was almost as if the past two years didn’t exist.

It was incredibly unsettling for you, and you started to feel a bit conflicted on where your anger lied with the boy as the time you spent softened your heart. Although, you knew you couldn’t allow him back into your life that easily, as his behavior deserves some sort of consequences, so you decided you couldn’t allow yourself to surrender that easily. Not all because you found yourself missing the friendship you once had with him, that wasn’t a good enough reason to overlook his actions. You cursed yourself silently as you arrived home, yet there was a small voice in the back of your mind that tried to convince you that perhaps it was best to let this happen in the name of the acting project you were both on. 

No, no, you remind yourself, he definitely doesn’t deserve your forgiveness or trust that easily.

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taglist: @kopikokrunch @icouldntcareless22 @kidrauhlschik @hhwangsmoon @lestayzone @vixensss @cupidcures taglist cut off at 20 people :)

[bountycancelled]

something more than friends

(lucy gray baird x reader)

tip me on kofi if you feel so inclined

requested: yep, I hope you like it anon♡

content: a little bit of angst but mainly fluff, men (derogatory), kinda lovesick!lucy gray, jealous lucy gray (we love to see it), pretty intense description of kissing but no smut.

warnings: a very brief mention of drinking, internalised homophobia but it doesn't last long, gay stuff (duh), lowercase intended I know boo I'm annoying.

a/n: I haven't read the book yet so idk much about the covey so their appearance may ooc but that's solely due to my lack of knowledge on them

lucy gray baird never faltered when she sang.

there were very few things that could get under her skin when she was on that stage, strumming her guitar and twirling in her skirt as the district folk stomped along to the beat.

sure, sometimes drunkards and the occasional hung up ex would try to cause a scene, attempting to gain her attention from below, but she would simply roll her eyes, waiting for someone to take care of them so that she could go back to doing what she did best. performing.

so what exactly had happened to make the lucy gray baird, forget a line in a song?

she was quick to remedy her mistake, carrying the tune in such a way that most patrons didn't even notice her mess up. but ironically enough, the very cause of her brain fog noticed. you.

you gave her a worried look, but she brushed it off, willing herself to continue playing as if nothing was wrong. and technically, nothing was wrong. you were there, in the far back of the crowd, wearing a white dress with a drink in your hand. and Lucy Gray didn't mean to be cliché, but you really did look like an angel, something divine that she had the honour of setting her eyes on.

but obviously, she wasn't the only one who thought that.

you were speaking to some man. which was fine, you were always the most gorgeous girl in the room in her eyes and she knew that she wasn't the only one who appreciated your beauty, you were always needing to awkwardly laugh at men's advances and brush them off as best as you could, but you weren't doing that tonight.

you were laughing, a genuine laugh, leaning in to hear his voice over the music, over her singing. she wanted to jump off of the stage and break her guitar over that assholes face, and she couldn't explain why.

she had always known that one day, you'd settle down with a kind man who cared for you (not nearly as much as she did, but that was okay) and then she would see you less and less. but knowing didn't make the taste in her mouth any more bitter.

the first time you told her about a crush that you had, on a boy named Tom, she spent the whole night convincing you that he just wasn't right for you. you believed her of course, rejecting him swiftly the next week when he asked you to go on a walk with him, walking instead with lucy gray, hand in hand.

but then, she did it every time you spoke about a boy, and you started to believe her less and less. 'I think you're just jealous lucy gray, and you don't anybody taking my attention away from you.'

you were right, she was jealous, and the thought of you, with a man, it disgusted her to her core. which is why she took off as soon as her set ended, not even staying for the applause as she searched for you outside.

there you were, and thankfully, you were alone, no undeserving man in sight.

she ran up to you, her brown eyes seemingly sparkling even in the darkened night. "how'd you enjoy the show, darlin'?"

her heart jumped when you smiled at her, your eyes crinkling in joy as you took both of her hand in yours, squeezing them affectionately. "you have the voice of an angel, lucy gray. and I envy the lucky fella who's gonna marry you, and have to serenade them whenever they want."

lucy gray rolled her eyes in a good natured fashion, trying to ignore the knot in her stomach when you mentioned her getting married. "I already serenade you, sweet thing. and im not gonna let some wedding band stop me."

you laughed airily, leading her by the hand towards the lake, where you spent most nights together. you sat down at the edge, laying your head in her lap when she sat beside you. her hand went to your hair, and she fought the urge to by giddy at the sight of your head in her lap, you were just... perfect.

"who was that guy that you were talking to back then? when I was singing, I mean." she asked, her voice uncharacteristically quiet.

you thought back to about an hour prior, picturing every person that you had been with throughout the evening as you tried to recall who she was asking about in particular. "oh! that was matthew, his dad and my dad go way back, but the two of us never really shared their closeness for whatever reason. but after speaking to him tonight I'm a bit upset that I never tried to grow a friendship with him earlier."

she nodded, her cherry glossed lips pressing into a thin line. "he doesn't just wanna be friends with you though, I could see it." you scoffed playfully, raising a brow at her curiously. "you were all the way up on stage, in the middle of your favourite song to perform, and somehow, you could tell that much from so far away?"

she opened her mouth to defend herself, but after realising just how insane the notion sounded when you phrased it in that way, she quickly closed it again. "I'm not gonna let any man take me away from you, lucy gray, believe me when I say that I can't live without you."

your words sent a fury of butterflies in her stomach, and she swore that felt dizzy as you picked your head up, moving your face so close to hers that your noses were almost touching. she wanted to kiss you. god, what the hell was wrong with her? how could she be thinking of you in this way?

despite her inner conflict, she made no moves to create some distance between your faces, selfishly wanting to stay like this for as long as you'd let her. "I wish we could get married." she sighed, her eyes widening at her own words. "I meant- not like, I didn't mean- not in, like, a husband and wife typa way-"

you cut her off with trying to, with a tilt of your head making her suck in a sharp breath. "you don't wanna do husband and wife things with me?" you asked, and she could swear that your voice had a certain tone about it, one that made her cheeks feel blazing and her breaths shallow.

she shook her head, her usually fierce tone reduced to a meek almost whisper. "we can't do those stuff together."

you were too close for comfort. she could feel the tip of your nose against hers and if you leaned in any further, she was sure that she would combust. "who cares if we can't? the more important question is, do you want to?"

inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. she had forgotten how to breath. this wasn't right, she knew that, so why were her lips on yours in a flash, her hands in your hair, around your waist, holding your hands, touching any part of you that she could reach as the two of you kissed? in public, no less?

she couldn't find it in her mind to stop, not when your soft, sweet lips moved in tandem with hers as if you were molded to fit each other. when you pulled away, with lucy gray chasing your lips with an involuntary whine, you held her by the shoulders, a look of concern on your face.

that was when she felt it. the guilt knawing at her stomach, and the tears that flowed down her face. was she crying because of how overwhelming her feelings were for you? maybe it was because she knew that you would have to hide... whatever had just happened between the two of you.

you leaned your forehead against hers, you sweet voice easing her fear. "I love you." she nodded, not being able to say it back just yet, but she could only hope that you knew. she moved to kiss you again, being startled out of her mind by a girlish scream in the distance.

it was maude ivory, eyes wide and hand slapped over her mouth in shock, with an equally suprised tam amber standing next to her. lucy gray felt sick to her stomach.

"I knew it." tam Amber said with a shrug, moving to sit next to the two fo you as she stared out at the moonlit lake. "no one looks at their friend like how lucy gray looks at you."

"can I be the flower girl? and the maid of honour? and the priest?" maude ivory rambled, laying half in lucy grays lap and half in yours. you simply laughed, explaining that her dream wasn't exactly possible but flower girl was certainly doable as lucy gray watched, tears threatening to fall from her eyes once again. only this time, they were of relief.

the joy she felt in her chest, at the thought that you could be... together in front of the covey was the best gift she could possibly be given. you and her, together. not just as best friends. although it was hard to wrap her head around it, she knew that it was exactly what she wanted and she had it on good authority that you wanted it too.

[astrolynnworld]

needs

pairing: chris x reader

summary: chris is struggling to figure out who he is and the reader offers her help

warnings: smut! confusion, worry, doubt, reassurance, help, comfort, sub chris, needy, lust, mommy kink, riding.

a/n- a request with my own little twist on it

word count: 991

chris has been acting so weird lately..

not even weird as in like abnormal but just weird as in unnecessary clingy.

well, sometimes at least.

one day he’ll be himself where he’s independent but the next day he’ll be so dependent and needy with me.

it’s even followed us into the bedroom where sometimes he’ll get all soft and needy instead of taking complete control

i figure that i should probably talk to him about it before jumping to conclusions.

i make my way to the bedroom and find chris coming out from the shower.

“hey babyyy” he says happily as he places a kiss on my cheeks

“can i talk to you about something real quick?” i ask

“yeah sure what’s up?” he says cautiously

“i’ve noticed that you’ve been really clingy and needy lately? is there any specific reason? .. that you would like to share?” i hesitantly say

“um? i haven’t really noticed .. in what way?” he questions

“like .. i don’t know .. you’ve just kind of been submissive lately..” i reply

“submissive? i’m not submissive.. why would you think im submissive? you know im not submissive..” he defends like he had been caught

um? why is he so defensive

“alright chris. what’s going on? cause that’s really just my opinion. why are you so jumpy at it?”

he lets out a sigh, “i don’t really know. i want to try a new dynamic in our relationship where you take care of me.. in a sense that i can rely, be clingy and depend on you. not all the time in every aspect but.. certain things” he confesses

“like what specifically?” i ask

“.. like sex”

“you want me to take more charge in sex?” i confirm

“yes- but not only that. when we have our romantic moments too.. i guess sometimes i wouldn’t mind being little spoon or someone you cling onto” he continues

“why didn’t you say anything earlier baby?”

“i was scared of how you’d react.. if you’d be down with it or kinda shut it down” he shyly confesses

“of course id be down with it baby” i grab his chin and places a kiss on his lips, “you don’t ever need to feel ashamed to tell me about a fantasy”

he whines as i pull my lips away from him and slowly chases after another kiss to which i complete

we slowly make out before i prop myself into his lap give myself a better angle at his lips

he whines at the contact and i push him back into the bed as i straddle on top of him, not breaking the kiss

i grind slowly into his lap as i start to take off my shirt

he continues to whine and look up at me

i bend back down and kiss his neck before sliding him out of his shirt

i hop up off the bed and slide him out his pants and boxers before doing the same with my own, slowly.. giving him a show

he whispers a “fuck” at the sight of my teasing

i hop back up on the bed and sit on his thigh as i start to jerk his cock

he leans back on his elbows and stares at the motion of my hand going up and down on his cock that was dripping precum

he whimpers a soft “please fuck me y/n. i need you so bad”

i smirk at the comment and tell him to beg for it

“don’t do this to me. please i need you so bad baby i need you to fuck me.. i’m yours mommy just fuck me please” he whines out

“mommy? so you wanna be a good boy huh?” i respond to his slipped up fetish

“yes mommy. fuck- i wanna be only your good boy”

i prompt myself on his cock and sink down onto the tip

“fuck- mommy you feel so good please bounce on me” he whimpers

i continue to bounce up and down a few times before slowly grinding on his cock

he looks up at me through squinted eyes from the pleasure and pulls me down to suck my tits

licking and sucking at my nipples while he tries to thrust up into me

“you like the way mommy makes you feel?”

i feel his cock twitch inside me as he hums at my nipple

“such a good boy baby! mommy’s gonna make you feel good. don’t worry” i say as i raise back up and start to pick out the pace

breathing heavy and throwing his head back into the bed, he continues to let out a series of gasps and whimpers

“fu- fuck mommy mmmm i don’t kn- know how much longer i can last.. feels too good” he mumbles out through his whimpers as he shuts his eyes closed to chase his high

“it’s okay baby. you can cum for mommy. cum for mommy like the good boy you are” i spit out before going down to kiss him as he cums

he moans sloppily into my kiss as he starts to fuck up into me and let his orgasm wash over

i sit back up on his cock and slow down my bouncing

“that was so hot chris.” i let out

“mhm. so good” he mumbles out as he tries to regain his breath

i laugh and make my way to the bathroom to pee

i come back with a little towelette so i can clean up the mess off his dick

after throwing it away i come back and cuddle him underneath a blanket that was pushed to the side of the bed

“im glad we did this. you make me feel so understood and complete”

“of course chris. i love you so much, you don’t have to hide anything from me”

“i love you more baby.” he says as we drift off into each others silence

————————————————————————

[funlovinzara]

Sanji with a crush Who is insecure about her pudginess like even Nami, Robin, and the other notice something was off reader? but was really worried Sanji the most was when she refused to eat, so one night when she snuck into the kitchen to get a drink of water He voiced out his worries And even confessed his feelings for her.

(we all have moments like those before and we all need some joy in our lives😊)

Sanji x chubby/pudgy! Reader

I absolutely love this request, i have a bit of pudge on myself and this would be so cute to write! Reader is also fem btw!

Warnings: Eating issues

___________________________

Sanjis pov:

‘Gosh she is the most prettiest gal ever…’ i whispered in my sleep on accident and that stupid moss head threw a pillow at me to shut up, it woke me up instead. I took a look at the clock and it was 5:32 in the morning, i decided to get out of bed and start cooking early. If i didn’t then everyone would be too hungry by morning, and id be behind my usual schedule. I get alot of sleep often anyway, so im not too angered.

For breakfast i decided to keep it simple and make fluffy pancakes from scratch with syrup, honey and other assorted fruits, i know my loves Nami, Robin and Y/n would love that. Even chopper loves sweets, he would love it too. However for the guys, i knew Luffy, Usopp and that marimo wouldn’t have sweet pancakes for fuel. I made omelets over rice with a big batch of bacon that would satisfy them for the time being, id eat some of that too…BUT i cant salivate while cooking..id save my hunger for when im done!

The moment i finished cooking i could hear a few footsteps coming towards the main area/kitchen. It was Nami, Robin, Y/N and Chopper! Just the people i wanted to see! “Nami-swaann!! Robin-chann!! Y/n-sannn!!” I wave at them before setting up there plates with heart eyes, i made sure to tend to Y/n as well since they were the one i truly have my heart for.

“Wow Sanji this looks really good! Thank you!” Nami took her plate as-well as Robin, who gave me bright smile as a thank you. Y/n took her plate, i thought i could see a flash of disappointment on her face before she just slightly bows with a smile “Thank you, Sanji.”

The rest of the crew came in and of course Luffy almost devoured everything, i hit him on the head and yelled at him. I glance towards y/n and i see shes not eating..but i thought she would have loved that? Am i mistaken?

———

Narrators pov:

Y/n looks at her plate, with the big pancakes sitting in-front of her this would affect her in so many different ways. However she didn’t want to be mean so she takes a bite, it was really really good!! But since you know how this could be unhealthy for you, you push it to the side. But it’s really tempting..the way Sanji made it was out of this world. You were close to taking another bite before a voice snaps you out of your trance

Sanji was behind you, he whispered close to your ear in a soft voice. “Why aren’t you eating? Is everything alright?”

Nami and Robin could clearly see the situation, but they pretended that they didn’t and they continued to listen.

Sanjis voice tickled your ear a bit and you jumped, regaining consciousness. “Oh yeah im fine..can i save this for later, um…my…stomach hurts real bad i think i ate something i was supposed to the other day.”

Sanji looks a little saddened but he nods his head as you walk away to your room. There weren’t too many currents that day so the ship didn’t move so far, you were still on your way to the next island and it was going to take some time. You didn’t eat anything else for the rest of the day, even if Sanji insisted, you would only take a bite. You felt immense guilt for turning down Sanjis cooking even when it was the best you have ever tasted in the whole world.

That night everyone went to bed, you fell onto your bed but you couldn’t sleep somehow. You needed to clear your mind. You tip toed your way outside your room onto the ship and then to the kitchen, you grabbed yourself a glass of cool water and walked to the edge of the ship to star gaze. It was always beautiful on ships, and there was a nice breeze today. You took a sip of your water, and let out a refreshing puff of air. It felt nice to just relax every once in awhile.

However you didn’t know that there were footsteps behind you, and you felt a pair of arms sneak around your waist.

“Y/n, what are you doing up?” Sanji says in a low tone trying not to wake anyone up. You jolt in fear and drop the glass, before it fell on the floor Sanji softly kicked it up with his feet and caught it. “Be more careful…as i was saying, are you okay?”

You’re still in shock before you calm down. “Yeah..”

“I don’t believe you.”

You both stood in silence before he spoke up again. “I have a feeling i know that this is about. You’re worried aren’t you? You’re worried about your body and how different foods will affect your weight? Am i right?”

You nod your head admitting in a bit of shame

“Y/n, i know how you feel. You’re amazing don’t you know that? You don’t have to be ashamed of who you are, if you’re looking for change then i want to help at-least. I want to make sure my crew-mates are the healthiest.” You look at him is surprised, but you didn’t understand why he was telling YOU this.

“But Nami and robin, they don’t have to try hard to be pretty..and you obviously love them so much. So why are you talking to me about this? What do you know so much about me anyway?” You slightly snapped back not meaning to sound harsh, Sanji giving an anxious look in return.

“Im speaking you about this because you’re the one who’s struggling alone and i love you too much to let you suffer.” You both stand in silence..

.

.

.

“What-.”

“I love you.”

He steps closer slowly, step by step he opens his arms wider, then taking you all in by hugging you. You lightly shed tears into his arm while he kisses your forehead. “I love you too, Sanji..”

Oh yeah you and can definitely guarantee Robin heard it all.

————————————————

Oh my gosh body positivity guys. U matter regardless of what u look like!!🌸

[tobiasdrake]

My favourite thing about the Dragon Balls making death less permanent is that, in spite of taking away some impact, it gives us one of the best parts of the show.

Vegeta.

Narratively, he should have died on Namek. He has stalled for long enough, he is able to see the Legend come true (in his eyes), he knows Frieza will die, his ideology and strength have been surpassed by Goku and he no longer has much to offer.

And that's why bringing him back after his death is insane, because Vegeta has had his big sacrifice play and seen his past concluded... and yet he has to keep living. He's quick to jump to anger at Kakarot, but for a while there he is surely lost on what to do.

Frieza is dead. Nappa and Raditz are dead. The Super Saiyan has been born, his people have been avenged, he doesn't even have a need for a wish anymore.

What does he have left? Both as a character and a person, all he can offer now is rage. And so, that exactly what he does, because for a time its all he can do.

What he has left is himself, which has always been his motivating factor. He never really cared much about avenging his people, about Nappa and Raditz, or about the Super Saiyan. For Vegeta, it's always been about glorifying Vegeta.

We first started to get a glimpse of the kind of man Vegeta is when he and Nappa briefly discuss Raditz's death. Nappa wants to resurrect Raditz using the Dragon Balls but Vegeta thinks Raditz can go fuck himself.

Shortly after, they have a brief discussion about Gohan. Gohan's existence intrigues Nappa. He wants to start some sort of twisted Saiyan eugenics program to repopulate their race with Saiyans who are stronger than ever before.

Vegeta sees hybrid Saiyans as a threat to his personal glory, however, and wants to kill all humans instead.

Vegeta would rather the Saiyans go extinct than allow new Saiyans to come into existence that are stronger than him. This sets the stage for his relationship to his people's genocide.

Which he actively contributes to.

Going a step beyond refusing to revive Raditz 'cause "Fuck 'im", Vegeta kills Nappa himself.

Goku breaks Nappa's back so he can't fight anymore, which causes his existence to lose all value in Vegeta's eyes. So Vegeta personally disposes of the last remaining Saiyan besides him and the two Earthlings.

If Saiyans cannot advance Vegeta's ambitions, then what good are they?

From there, Vegeta goes to Namek and learns of the Saiyan genocide. His reaction is about what you'd expect from him up to this point.

He has no interest in revenge against Frieza for the Saiyans. He just wants to be out from under Frieza's bootheel. Vegeta's greatest ambition is to be the strongest in the universe.

Also, fun fact: He's heard of the Super Saiyan but never put any stock in this Saiyan gobbledygook. He only starts to consider the possibility once he sees Goku in his incomplete proto-Super Saiyan state.

"The Super Saiyan is fake but if it does exist THEN IT SHOULD BE ME."

Literally the first time he ever expresses any sentiment towards his fellow Saiyans is when he is actively in the process of joining them in death.

That Vegeta is dying and no longer has a future to think of seems to have done a number on his personality. This is the first time he ever even hints at caring for someone other than himself.

The thing about Vegeta is that he was very young when his planet was destroyed. In a sense, Vegeta and Goku are mirrors of one another. Neither of them are culturally Saiyans. Neither ever truly knew Planet Vegeta and its people.

They're a post-genocide diaspora, raised in other cultures by other people. Goku grew up to be culturally Earthling. And Vegeta... is culturally Frieza. He was raised in the grips of coldhearted capitalism, self-glorification, and the devaluing of people, places, and things into disposable commodities for market, and he internalized all of it.

The reason Vegeta is so different from Nappa and Raditz, so much crueler and more self-interested, is because - like Goku - Vegeta has never truly connected with his Saiyan heritage. How could he? His culture was annihilated.

Capable of reflexively dismissing his people's genocide with "LOL Fuck 'em" in the moment but then, with the honest vulnerability of impending death, admit "No, that sucks actually."

Vegeta spends the back half of the Namek arc forced into an uneasy alliance that's tearing him in half over who he is.

"You dumbass, if you had time to save me then you had time to let me die and sucker punch the enemy!" Vegeta barks at Gohan.

Meanwhile, Vegeta.

And that's after Gohan and Krillin betrayed him, too. Exposure to the Earthlings and their different ideas is getting to him. The way Gohan and Krillin treat him and each other is... it's not so much healing as deprogramming some of the things he learned from Frieza.

He's being exposed to a way of life that's different from the one he's always known, and it's affecting the way his mind interprets things like teamwork or the death of his people. The way he thinks and expresses himself.

People are complicated and much of who we are is a product of environmental factors. Change Vegeta's circumstances and you change Vegeta.

So in his final moments, killed by the same person that killed the rest of his kind, he allows himself to feel the grief that he'd previously written off as "LOL Sucks to be them!"

Pretty much the entire rest of his arc is the steady deprogramming of Vegeta, once he's stranded on Earth with no way back into space, disconnected from the toxic ideology that raised him. Having to first figure out how to take his value system he learned from Frieza and apply it to his new circumstances.

But, over time, becoming more and more of an Earthling in his own right. Learning that it's okay, actually, to care about other people. To be emotionally invested in someone besides himself.

That it's okay to live a domestic life on a planet somewhere and be part of a culture, rather than simply defining himself as a conqueror.

That it's okay to not be the strongest in the universe. That he is not a failure if he finds a mountain he cannot climb.

Even finding religion. He uses his final moments before his second death to turn to (ex-)God and ask the fate of his immortal soul.

Vegeta is a diasporic member of a dead race raised in the image of the people that destroyed his home, killed his people, and robbed him of his culture. Slowly unlearning the belief systems of colonization, consumption, and capitalist individualism that defined so much of his life, and instead discovering the beauty of people and life.

[xoxochb]

hiii!! first time doing a request so i apologize if im doing it weird😓

could u please do a leo x reader angst?? but then make it better in the end😇 sorry if that’s vague i truly don’t know what else to say

ty and please take ur time!

⋆·˚ ༘ * leaving me bereft and reeling

warnings: angst (with redeeming fluff)

pairing: leo valdez x fem reader

“I didn’t think that-”

“yes, that’s exactly the problem! you never think!”

you stand in the infirmary in front of leo who is sitting on an infirmary bed, badly wounded from a reckless attempt trying to climb a tree to grab a paper plane for one of his younger siblings. although this was a sweet act of kindness he almost killed himself when he fell from the top branch

now here he is in the infirmary with a broken wrist and tons of bloody scratches, along with you yelling at him for risking his life

he frowns at your words and tears begin to make their way out of his eyes, but he’s quick to wipe them away so you don’t see

“I’m sorry” he whispers, he thinks if he spoke any louder the tears would start pouring out

“that’s what you said last time, and the time before. this is the third time this month you’ve gotten badly injured” you cross your arms

you wait a moment to let leo speak but when you realize he isn’t going to you leave the infirmary and head back to your cabin

that night leo didn’t sleep, instead staining the pillow with pools of tears until he couldn’t breathe, and on the other hand, you lie awake staring at the ceiling regretting your choice of words

☕️

for the next three days you don’t speak with each other, you were too afraid he hated you after what you said to him. you would’ve went longer if nyssa hadn’t spoken to you

“you’ve gotta talk to leo, I’m dying over here” she takes a seat beside you at your cabin’s table

“why?” you inquire

she sighs, “he’s sad, won’t stop talking about you. well more like whining. that’s all he does, I’m getting sick of it”

“I don’t know…” you begin

“this isn’t an option. you are going to talk to him because I’m going to throw myself off a cliff if you don’t” she stands up and walks away before you have a chance to reply

it’s your turn to sigh now, maybe you should talk to him

you stand and make your way to his bunker where you’re sure he’ll be but when he’s not there you go to cabin nine, where you find him lying on his bed facing the opposite side of the door

“leo?” he turns at the sound of your voice and you take this as a sign to walk over to his bed, “can we talk?”

he sits up and rubs his bloodshot eyes, “yeah”

you sit on the end of his bed before speaking, “I’m sorry about what I said. I know you were just trying to help your brother, and I admire that you care so much but I worry about you. you’re always putting yourself into life threatening situations to help someone you love and I’m afraid that one day you’re going to kill yourself doing it”

he opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off, “let me finish. please” you sigh, “do you remember the day we met? my bracelet broke and fell into the lake, you saw this from afar, and you didn’t even know me, but regardless of this you jumped in to retrieve my bracelet, you would’ve drowned if I wasn’t there. I knew the moment I brought you back to shore, where you sit coughing up water handing me my bracelet, I knew I was in love with you because you decided to risk your life to help me, and I think that’s the sweetest thing someone could do. I love that you have such a big heart but you really need to be careful because I don’t want to see you hurt”

he leaves the room to be silent and when you finally look up at him and notice the tear stains covering his cheeks you pull him in for a hug. he would be lying if he said he hadn’t been craving your touch

“I’m sorry” he mumbled into your shoulder, a few single tears wetting your shirt

“I know” you kiss the top of his head “I love you”

“I love you too”

[fayes-fics]

Too Much

Pairings: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader, Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader (threesome), modern AU

Summary: Anthony and Benedict take on a challenge you set them.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, MMF threesome, dom/sub dynamics, use of pet/play names/titles (baby girl, kitten, sir), dirty talk, vaginal fingering, sex toys (vibrator), oral sex (m to f), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, brief loss of consciousness.

Word Count: 4.1k

Authors Note: this is a double request fill for @demonic-black-queen and Anon (HERE and HERE). I hope you don't mind me combining your requests into this one-shot. Im not sure about it, but I hope it fits your requests. Unbetaed. Enjoy<3

“What the…?!?”

You almost jump out of your skin and spin around to find two sets of shocked eyes trained on you. You didn’t hear anyone enter the flat with your AirPods in.

“El isn’t here,” you point out once you rally from the scare. 

You decide to push through the mortification of being found dancing through your flat in your underwear on a Saturday afternoon. They are the ones who shouldn’t be here, after all, her two oldest brothers. Both look utterly delicious in faded tees and jeans, something you are trying (but failing) not to notice.

“Yes, we know she’s away for a week; that’s why we are here,” Anthony responds, steadfastly looking at your face, but you can see a vein in his temple is pulsing. 

“We came to assemble some standing desk she’s been on about,” Benedict explains, stepping out from behind his older brother. “We are so sorry to intrude; El told us you would be out this weekend too,” he adds apologetically, but you don’t miss the momentary flicker of his gaze down your body.

“I was supposed to be,” you admit with a conciliatory nod, “change of plans, useless now ex-boyfriend,” you throw your hands up in a shrugging gesture.

“What happened?” Benedict blurts out, then appears to check himself. “Sorry, ignore that; it’s none of our business.”

You decide to shock them with part of the truth. If they are going to interrupt your alone time in your own home, you are going to have a little fun. See how they react. “Couldn’t make me orgasm enough,” you twist your lips into a coquettish pout, raising an eyebrow. “Couldn’t tame me properly enough either; I need a better dom than that.”

Benedict splutters a surprised cough and then looks thoroughly entertained.

“Not surprised. You’re a total brat,” Anthony mutters under his breath.

“What was that?” you throw back boldly, wanting to see where this could go. An illicit thrill runs down your spine as you cross your arms under your breasts, knowing it frames them so well.

“I said you’re a little brat, and you need to learn when to shut up,” Anthony states louder, more intentionally, his eyes flitting down to your cleavage. You see out of the corner of your eye Benedict’s gaze ping-ponging between you, a bemused expression on his handsome features.

“You’re not the boss of me,” you volley back every cell alive at this challenge. You’ve always had this antagonistic, dangerously flirty vibe with El’s oldest brother whenever he comes to visit. It’s like he knows without saying what buttons to press to rile you up in every sense.

Anthony advances on you with a strong gait; you inhale sharply as he pulls up inches from you, so close you can feel his body heat—looking down at you with a clipped expression.

“If I were, you’d be quiet and over my knee by now,” he opines darkly, and you ripen, feeling your body readying for him. 

Please, yes, please.

Instead, you just raise an eyebrow. “I’d like to see you try,” you goad, tossing your hair a little for good measure. 

Anthony’s face morphs into a predatory smile; you have to swallow around a lump in your throat as he leans in. “You don’t stand a chance with both of us,” he cautions.

Your breath catches, your eyes flitting past him to Benedict, whose face is still one of amusement, but something else is there too, a glint, a heat in his eye you didn’t notice before. “Are you a dom too?” you ask, attempting casual. It's not even a question you bother posing to Anthony; his nose is inches from your neck, sniffing your scent, animal-like.

“I can be when the situation calls for it,” Benedict responds assuredly, pushing off where he leans nonchalantly, “and this definitely calls for it,” he adds, licking his lip and turning to face you more squarely. 

“So what say you?” Anthony prompts, his voice like velvet, a hand hovering but not touching your hip, awaiting your permission to touch, to play. Respectful in a way that makes you want this, them, even more.

“I say…” you pause for dramatic effect, meeting Benedict’s eyes as your hand lands in Anthony’s hair, and he inhales sharply at the drag of your nails on his scalp. “Try me, Bridgerton.” 

The challenge issued is the green light Anthony needs, grabbing your hips harshly, sure to leave fingerprints. 

“Limits?” he inquires as his teeth graze your neck.

“Nothing that will scar; otherwise, let’s see what you come up with,” you return, pulse racing, being intentionally vague, wanting to see how wild they can be.

“Alright then,” he huffs, amused, “safe word?”

“Blueberry,” a soft sigh escaping your lips as he bites into you harsher.

“That’s cute,” you feel his smile against your skin.

“Exactly, just like me,” you reply precociously, and there is another chuckle—from the younger brother this time, as Benedict rounds behind you and a large hand cups your entire skull, tilting it back so you look up at him through heavy lashes.

“You’ll regret riling him up,” he warns, leaning close. “Tell me, what do you like to be called when you play like this? Hmm?” His question is sweet and considerate to ask. “Little one? Kitten? Baby girl?”

“All, any of those,” you whisper, your cupid’s bow catching his lip as you do so, Anthony’s hands sweeping down to grab your buttocks and heave you against his toned body. Benedict crowds into your back, and you feel your stomach clench as you are trapped between them.

“I like a girl who gives options,” Benedict murmurs approvingly and then he captures your lips in an almost bruising kiss, those long fingers flexing against your scalp, directing you as Anthony’s mouth slides around to your throat.

Oh, this will be excellent.

“Are you both going to get as undressed as me?” you urge as Benedict breaks the kiss.

They both laugh in response, and you feel the vibration against your front and back; it's enthralling.

“It might be best if we stay dressed for today,” Benedict answers, causing you to pout at him. “You don't think we can bring you blinding pleasure without removing our clothes?” he intuits your thoughts.

“No, I don't,” you reply honestly.

Anthony pulls you towards him, his lips ghosting yours. “Oh, then you have so much to learn about what a good dom is, baby girl. I could make you pass out and not remove an ounce of clothing.”

You gasp into his bruising kiss as Benedict's hands sweep around your sides. “He's right,” Benedict gusts into your ear, his fingers tracing the notches of your spine. “We can make you come so many times you’ll beg us to stop.”

“Yeah, right,” you goad defiantly into Anthony’s mouth, and he yanks you away by the hair at the base of your scalp.

“Challenge accepted, baby girl,” he growls. 

With a nod to Benedict, you squeal as they pick you up as if you weigh nothing and move towards your bedroom, slamming open the door open so it bangs loudly against the wall and throwing you onto your bed with a force that would usually annoy you, but right now just heightens your pleasure, a little bit of rough handling sometimes increases your arousal.

They both climb onto the bed on either side of you, bracketing your body so you can't move, twining their ankles around yours so your legs are held open while guiding your hands to your headboard.

“Hold on here, and don't let go until we say so,” Anthony orders, hot in your ear. “Now, where is your vibrator?” 

“Bedside drawer,” you stutter, nodding to the one over Benedict’s shoulder.

He twists around to find it as Anthony runs a finger across your bra. “How attached are you to this underwear?” 

“Not particularly.”

“Good,” he states firmly, “because I am in the mood to rip it off your body.” the casual way he says it makes you gasp as Benedict turns back with your vibrator in hand, placing it onto the pillow above your head for now. They both run their hands over the plane of your body, landing on your underwear. “With both of us, this little scrap doesn't stand a chance, ” he warns.

Your gaze pings between them, your arousal rocketing as they grasp the fabric between their dextrous hands; the noise of fabric ripping fills the air. They remove the scraps of material from around your body, cool air swirling your soaked flesh where they hold your legs open.

Fuck, that is hot.

“Oh, this is lovely, kitten,” Benedict rumbles as his long fingers trail through your trimmed, shaped hair patch.

It's the first time someone has complimented your pubic hair, and watch wide-eyed as a smirk crawls across his face, his hand slipping lower. You gasp as he unerringly finds your clit and brushes against it, achingly light. Anthony’s hands are busy pulling your thighs even wider apart, then spidering up your inner thigh until his, too, reaches your folds.

“Baby girl, you are soaking for us,” his voice gravelly as you moan when he slips a finger inside you. “Oh, you like that, don't you?” he adds, his smile also dangerous.

You bite your lip and nod enthusiastically, still barely believing this is how the surprise encounter has turned out. With Benedict's fingers on your clit and Anthonys inside you, you know you are in trouble already. They know precisely what they are doing; Anthony slides a second finger inside, so you feel a stretch as Benedict hooks his thumb under your clitoral hood and starts to flick against your most sensitive nub.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, your head flopping back and then their warms lips are on your body, starting at your neck and nibbling their way down your heated collarbones to the edge of your bra.

As if timed perfectly, they each push down a cup, and their tongues swirl your nipples simultaneously; you are thrown so close to orgasm it's unbelievable. Eyes shut and crying out.

“Kitten, does it truly take so little?” Benedict laughs, trailing his nose over your nipple as he expertly teases your clit.

“I have no idea what is happening, fucking hell,” your throat dry, your mind unable to compute how quickly they are hurtling you towards an edge.

“It's evident this little brat has never had a real dom tame her before,” Anthony says airily, adding a third finger into you and wringing mortifying sounds from your body.  “Holding her down and showing her just how fast she can come with…” he pauses to hook onto a spot inside that makes you squeal, “expert hands…” he adds, bemused.

“Yes, fine, okay, you win,” you exhale shakily, your pussy burning white hot, “just please, please don't stop,” you whine, your hands curled tight around the cold metal posts of your headboard. 

With a glance at each other that you know is some silent communication, Anthonys' fingers rocking deeper into you and curling into a hook on every stroke as Benedict circles your clit at an increasing pace, all as their tongues tease your nipples incessantly, their bodies holding you down and open to their wonderful ministrations. A long low curse leaves your lips as you ratchet so high it's almost dizzying.

“Yes, that's it, baby girl, give it to us,” Anthony buzzes against your breast.

“Come on, kitten,” Benedict adds, surging up to capture your lips as he senses the tugging fluttering sensation around your clit.

And then you are breaking, your mind switching off, routed in the fireworks in your body, fighting them to buck your hips against the tide ripping through your body, but they won't let you, holding your legs down and open as you orgasm helplessly under their control. Your cunt clenching Anthonys' fingers so forcefully he growls.

“Brother, you have to have your fingers inside this little cunt when it orgasms; feel the power there; it’s quite amazing,” he comments casually as you float somewhere on a cloud. “I tell you, it must be absolute heaven to have that clenching around your cock.”

“Then I suggest we swap,” Benedict volleys back, bemused.

“Wha… what do you mean?” you slur drowsily, barely back in the room from your out-of-body and mind experience, moaning gently as Anthony’s fingers slip from inside you.

“Now you will come around his fingers, baby girl,” Anthony tutors.

“But I just came?” you frown, still confused.

Benedict chuckles, his hands trailing up your patch of hair to your dewy belly. “You think once is enough, kitten? Oh no, you will keep coming until we tell you otherwise,” an undercurrent of something dark and smokey in his cadence.

“But I…” you protest weakly.

“You thought we were joking?” Anthony responds incredulously, “No baby girl, you will come over and over and over.”  

You swallow thickly as you realise they mean it, and you cry out as Anthony’s thumb slowly circles your clit, still swollen and throbbing from your orgasm.

“Oh god…” you whisper, feeling overwrought. 

“Oh yes, come on, you should be able to come again very soon,” he lectures, “maybe harder this time.”

“Look at me,” Benedict commands, and you swing your head to the side to give him your full attention, your eyes staring into his inky blank pupils as a crooked grin claims his face, and he slips a finger inside you. Your mouth makes an undignified noise as he does, still fluttering a little from your orgasm. You feel him triumphantly studying your facial reaction as he reaches even deeper than Anthony. “Aren't you delightfully tight,” he murmurs into your cheek, and you are grateful his movements are slow, precise, gently adding a second finger and rocking into you with a rhythmic push.

“That's it, baby girl,” Anthony praises, and you sway your face towards him, letting him kiss your lips and hush you with soft brushes on your clit.

“Go easy on me,” you warn, but it's met with a hollow chuckle, and suddenly, their hands start to move faster, and you look at them in turn pleadingly.

“When will you learn, baby girl?” Anthony replies, his tone flint-edged as he flicks your clit so deftly you pant. “We are in charge here; we set the rules. The minute you tell us what to do, we will do the opposite. Until you learn not to be such… a… little… brat...” he punctuates each of the last three words with a tooth grazing around your nipple, and you are clinging to the headboard for dear life, knuckles turning white as you feel yourself pushing higher and higher. 

They aren't treating you daintily, and it's precisely what you need. Your mouth hangs open; you twist to bite your own bicep as they suckle on your breasts and twine their legs higher around yours as you start to fight their hold.

“Nuh uh uh,” Anthony clucks, “don't fight us, baby girl, you know you want this, come on break again, show him what you can do,” he dares you, as Benedict's fingers feel so powerful you can't avoid what is coming. 

“Oh my little kitten, I can feel you pulsing,” Benedict nuzzles your face with his nose, driving his fingers into you forcefully as Anthony circles your clit so fast you can't breathe. 

Your eyes roll back, emitting a noise halfway between a squeal and a shout as you feel yourself breaking again. A dam inside you gives way, a gush of wetness as you convulse vice-like around Benedict's fingers, both of them making noises of triumphant surprise as your entire body tenses under their grip. Every fibre in you feels like it snaps then pings back. You scream so loud you are grateful this converted warehouse has such thick concrete walls.

“Wow… I had to use all my strength to fight to stay inside you there, kitten; my brother was right,” Benedict murmurs, but you can barely take it on board as his fingers slip from inside you. Incapable of doing anything but whimpering, your body experiences little aftershocks that make your brain akin to static.

And then Anthony is reaching over your head, and the trademark buzz of your vibrator starts up.

“Nononono,” you protest lightly, forgetting it was there, even as you know they aren't going to heed you. Your only way out of this is your safe word, which is the very last thing you want to utter. Anthony trails the vibrating tip in a long line down the middle of your body, your whiny protest being disregarded. You scream again as the strong pulse hits your overly sensitive nub.

“Oh god, I can't. I can't; it’s too much,” you wail, your head thrashing from side to side—it's the only thing you can move with them both restraining you.

“You can, and you will, kitten,” Benedict replies, his large hand on your belly, smearing your juices across your skin.

Your whole body is overstimulated; sweat slicks your body as you flush so hot again, your nipples burning from the shadow of stubble around their mouths, your cunt still clenching in waves, your clit almost painful, distended, throbbing so hard you swear it's where your heartbeat now lives.

“I can't come again. I can't.”

“Stop whining,” Anthony barks and presses the vibe firmly into you so you feel the waves all the way up into your public bone.

“Please no…” you wail, wracking breaths, fighting air into your lungs.

“That's not your safe word, baby girl,” Anthony reminds you as you curl your lips under your teeth, not wanting to say it by accident. “Hmm, that's what I thought,” he smirks before heavily running his tongue on your breast again.

You are cursing now, panting, unable to fight the tide approaching you yet again, so fast, so strong.

“Here it is,” he gloats, and his whole leg presses harshly on yours as your hips want to cant up high off the bed. 

This time it’s a wave you feel powerless to fight, so you just let it wash over you. Every cell of your being feels electric, your body tingling as you can't stop quivering.

“Please, please, please, please,” you stutter into his lips, tears forming at the corner of your eyes, appealing for mercy, but he doesn't remove the vibrator from where it rests on your white hot clit.

“Oh baby girl, do you have any idea how beautiful you are right now?” he flatters, running a hand into your hair that is no doubt sweaty and tangled. “Kiss him,” he orders, nodding to Benedict.

Drowsily, you find yourself turning to obey.

 “Good fucking girl,” Anthony hisses a compliment in your ear as Benedict's tongue invades your mouth. “It looks like you are finally behaving for your doms.”

You feel yourself slipping away slightly as Benedict breaks the kiss, falling into a space where your mind is in the backseat, willing to follow their instructions without a thought except to please them.

“Brother, I think this kitten is finally in her little submissive state,” Benedict opines, running his hand possessively on your skin, petting you like a cat.

“You are right,” Anthony concurs, and you passively smile as they look down at you.

“One more orgasm, my baby girl, then you can rest,” Anthony whispers into your cheek, and you nod blithely.

“No vibrator, please. Tongue,” you appeal meekly, twining your fingers around the metal posts you cling to.

“Oh, kitten, you want one of us to slip between your legs and suck your swollen little clit into our mouth? Bite down until you scream?” Benedict dusks in your ear, painting a debauched picture with his words.

“Please yesss,” you implore, looking at him so beseechingly.

“Whose tongue?” Anthony inquires.

“I don't mind; you are both so wonderful, sir,” you confess with a sigh, floating away.

“This was your idea,” Benedict capitulates to his elder brother. “Go ahead; I’ll hold her down and talk to her.”

Anthony nods, and you feel a crest of victory in your veins as he swings above your body and shuffles down, ploughing his tongue into your folds without preamble. He licks a strong line up to your clit, and you cry out with the slightest nudge. His strong arms wrap around your legs and pull you obscenely wide open to his ministrations; there is no way for you to battle this hold. Then Benedict is kissing you hard again, stealing your breath, the sensation of both of their tongues inside different parts of your body utterly overwhelming.

“Does that feel good, kitten?” he nudges your head to the side to whisper in your ear as Anthony feasts on your body.

“Yes sir,” your words still slurred, drunk on sensation.

“Do you promise to always be a good obedient little one for us from now on?” he queries with a smug tone.

“Yes sir,” your heart sings that they might be willing to play more with you as Anthony’s talented tongue circles your clit teasingly, making your belly tense in anticipation. 

“Should I tell you what we plan to do to you next time?” he intones as he tugs your earlobe with his teeth.

“Please, yes sir,” you appeal.

“How about we take our clothes off?” he begins, and you bite your lip, eager at the idea, moaning loudly as Anthony sucks on your clit, flicking the nub with a speared tongue. “Will you get on your knees for us?” Again, you can only nod, under their spell entirely. “Good kitten,” he praises, running a hand over your breast and pinching the tip so hard you scream. “I love how responsive you are; I cannot wait to be inside your mouth, your cunt…” the way that word drips decadently from him makes you uncurl your hand from the headboard and grab his shoulder. “Put that hand back right now, you bad kitten,” he warns gently, and you immediately obey. You go to apologise, but it comes out a scream as Anthony flicks on the vibrator and pushes it into your cunt just an inch, but it's enough to make you light-headed.

“Yes, that's it; I want you to scream as I fuck you, just like that,” Benedict growls, his breath uneven, and you notice a teeming urgency as he thrusts his hard cock caged inside his jeans against your hip.

Something about his desperation makes you crave them, saying whatever pops into your head uncensored. “I want you both to fuck me so hard, sir… at the same time.”

Benedict growls a little and bites your earlobe again. “Yes, kitten, we will do that.”

You can sense the desperation in Anthony, too, the mattress moving slightly as he pushes his pelvis into it rhythmically. His suction and heated mouth are enough, but with a flick of his finger, he turns the vibrator to the maximum, and you start swirling a black hole of consciousness, the pleasure so intense that you let out a noise that sounds inhuman to your ears.

“Yes, that’s it, my little wild kitten. Let’s hear all those gorgeous noises,” is snarled against your damp forehead.

It's the last thing you hear as your mind yells too much, too much, and a sudden, intense, almost violent tidal wave sweeps you away, overwhelming everything, the world going dark and quiet….

…. You emerge from that inky place to gentle whispers and soft hands petting your body in soothing motions. 

“Come back to us, baby girl,” Anthony coos, and it takes you a few moments to realise he has moved from between your legs and is at your side again. You also realise your hands are no longer wrapped around the spindles behind your head but resting gently on your tummy as they rub your shoulders, relieving the slight ache there.

Their voices continue with lavishing praise as you gradually return to your senses, running your tongue over your lips, your mouth feeling full of cotton wool.

“What happened?” you croak, barely audible.

“You blacked out on us, baby girl,” Anthony giggles, “just for a few seconds,” he reassures.

They draw you into a joint comforting embrace as your blissfully fuzzy mind comes back online, your body weak from shaking so much. You feel akin to a newborn animal, learnings your limbs and blinking in the light. When their faces come into focus, their expressions are adoring, their fingers tracing gentle patterns on your body.

“Welcome back, kitten; you are amazing,” Benedict smiles sweetly.

“Thank you,” you slur in reply, sated and so happy.

You fall asleep at their encouragement, pressed between their comforting bodies. And the best part? They are still there when you wake up again a few hours later.

They may actually assemble the desk for El…. eventually. Just maybe not tonight. Or tomorrow. Before she gets back. Maybe.

Anthony & Benedict taglists: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @elizah99 @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @debheart @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @amanda08319 @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @jeanfreau

[shotokimchi]

When Their S/O Is a Seggs God

MINORS DNI

How would they react if their cute lover was like a succubus in bed LMAO Going through some hard stuff so wanted to drop this here to laugh a little JSDFHSDK-

A/N:Sorry for being inactive y'all i swear I'm not ignoring the requests, just preparing for an important exam this year, but I'll be back around Julyyyy

Little side note: Characters are aged up so don't come at me smh

part2 w/Dabi and Midoriya

Bakugo

So we all know that this man doesn't sleep around randomly. My guy dates the "one" for him he's planning to marry you so if you aren't planning about settling down...

Too bad for you missy (Lemme see your ring finger bitch you gonna get wifed up💍)

After taking you out to meet his parents, this chili oil literally falls in love with you (i mean he already did but when he saw how you treated his momma and papa- boy was CHOKING ON HIS HEART❤️) so he decides to take your relationship to the next level.

Needs and excuse to leave early so literally tells his parents that he has a bad case of diarrhea ( Do ya'll know that video LMAO) and drags you out to his car

Lemme tell you he ran over at least 5 red lights just to have sex with you-

And you are just confused about why he's suddenly acting like a rabid dog i mean he's always acting like one but this time-

"Suki, why is your mouth foaming?"

On the way to your apartment, you had an inner conflict about actually taking him to a vet, you aint planning on telling him that tho.

After finally throwing you onto the shared bed like a sack of flour mf flies for a second in the air like a bloodthirsty mosquito- (the only difference is he's thirsty for the ✨All-mighty pussy juice✨)

Dw tho man asks for your consent because he loves you a lot and doesn't want your first time to be scary and all-

Wait did i say first time?

YES MF THINKS YOU'RE A VIRGIN- but guess what he's about to find out...

Before he can start kissing you, you push him onto his back and rip off his pants and leave a small peck on his lips before riding him like you are in a horse race- Good news gurl you are about to win, no one can compare

Poor man is speechless bc you are literally singing on his dick like you are the headliner in a choir...

And while you are singing you are rhythmically bouncing too LMAO

IM👏GONNA👏PUMP👏EVERY👏SINGLE👏DROP👏OUT👏OF👏YOU

He aint scared no he just swallowed his tongue by accident- cuz you know...

HIS GIRL IS LITERALLY DOING THE DUCK WALK ON HIS DICK (🦆🦆🦆)

WALK THAT FUCKING DUCK Y/N QUACK QUACK QUACK

He decides to grab your hips to slow you down a little bc you are causing an earthquake with a magnitude of 6.9

but instead of slowing you down now you are making him jump on the bed with you too LMAOAOAOAOAO- imagine someone breaking in and seeing two floating figures on the bed

He's like "SLOW DOWN Y/N-"

But nuh uh you are too caught up in your own horny world so you continue to milk him (Fr tho calm down queen aren't those legs tired?🦵)

After cumming for the 5th time he tapped out LMAO-

You gave him a concussion bc of making him bounce for too long KSJFHJSDKFGSDKJHSD- POOR KATSUKI

He was laying there, unconscious with drool dripping down his mouth and it took you three full minutes to realise that he passed out (OMG I'm gone-)

Fly high Katsuki Bakugo 🕊️🕊️

Dw tho you made sure to pamper him the morning after, bringing him a breakfast tray filled with pancakes and a cup of coffee. A cute innocent smile plastered on your face

"Morning, baby!"

Needless to say, he was shocked ( pretty sure he thinks it was the hottest night ever but doesn't wanna hurt his own pride by telling you that)

"WHAT HAPPENED-"

Todoroki

BAHAHAHA OMG OK LISTEN-

So both of you are lovebirds obv because Todoroki would be the most caring boyfriend ever (i'll fight you about this one 🥊🥊🥊) so its impossible not to be in love with him

So pretty baby thinks it's going to be all about kisses, vanilla, sweet loving, him showing how much he cares about you etc.

AND HE IS A VIRGIN

Todoroki being a virgin is such a turn on he trusts you enough to give his first time to you (aw❤️🤍)

...but you didnt know that he was a virgin

I mean come on look at him how can he be a virgin while looking THAT PRETTY

So one time, while you guys were chilling on the couch watching Titanic and snacking on some strawberries together he decides to make the first move and gently holds your hand while whispering sweet things to your ear and then you hear the magical word (open sesame zimzalabim this coochie 🔮)

"Y/n, I wanna do it."

BIG MISTAKE SHOTO VERY BIG- So being the horny queen you are the wicked horny grin makes its way to your lips and baby is concerned Before he can say anything you immediately grab a strawberry and stuff it into his mouth and quickly try to get him off of his sweatpants

Then you work your magic on him by giving him the best and first head of his life ✨ and trust me he is enjoying it very much

Mmmm yes that famous glock glock 60000 GOBBLE UP BABES don't let em Santa Claus looking pubic hair get into your nose tho🎅

Pretty moans were filling the living room while his fingers lock with yours

But the baby was too lost in his own pleasure so he accidentally bit the strawberry and took it out of his mouth

But you noticed so you grabbed a new one and harshly shoved it into his mouth

"Dont. swallow. the. strawberry."

Babies eyes went wide

YOU SCARED HIM

AND IT WAS HIS FIRST TIME TOO

he %100 looked like this-

So now he was drowning in his own pool of saliva trying not to bite into the strawberry while his eyes were rolling at the back of his head (bc of your amazing tongue skills)

Spot the difference between your mouth and a vacuum cleaner

NONE

When i tell you, you were sucking him DRY

like the next Todoroki generation got to the point of extinction

at this point he was trying to pry you off of his dick bc the overstimulation was TOO much lolol

Poor baby accidentally covered the couch with small burns

when you lifted your head to check up on him you were met with a sobbing Shoto

BOY WAS GASPING

Literally thought of bringing him an oxygen tank but decided against it bc he calmed down after receiving your loving kisses You layed his head on your chest while combing through his locks with your fingers, you made sure to give him a great aftercare

"Are first times are this rough?"

You choked on Casper the ghosts dick

"WHAT-" Literally mourned for two hours bc of treating him so roughly LMAO

A/N: I'm done- sorry for the typos if i have any, i was too lazy to edit :p

[aritamargarita]

ATTITUDE || 002

we are so back its not even funny.…chat put W’s and 1’s in the chat. also if u catch this on ao3 im trying to fix the spacing it just ruined everything omg. (I FIXED IT)

WITH NEW RESURGENCE of WCW wrestlers, the WWF has a brand new problem on their hands. Under pressure, Vince decides to create the Invasion pay-per-view, an entire show dedicated to WWF vs WCW. In turn, Shane initiates your undercover plan. Oh, and Trish Stratus also gives you a proper thank you for helping her out. Lita isn't too welcoming, though. Matt isn’t either..

All of you had heard the announcement of Invasion just this morning. Supposedly, you and your team would fight the WWF next month, culminating in a winner-takes-all match.

You figure Shane was making his calls to let everyone know. You wouldn't be surprised if you were the first to know it, but it's unbelievable. Is the WWF challenging you guys? The answer is yes, but you know they will lose that battle.

This may have been the beginning of the end for that company, and nothing brings you more joy than seeing it crumble beneath your feet. Vince must've felt incredibly pressured by WCW. Dare you say, he felt threatened if he was going as far as making an entire show dedicated to this.

Supposedly, no one knew the entire card yet. The only thing Shane knew was that one of those matches would be Team WWF vs. Team WCW and that he needed extra time to prep everyone for it.

There's an inevitable group meeting to be called; you're sure of it. You don't mind being there one bit. You have to ensure your fellow wrestlers are pumped up with a pep talk before going out there.

Hell, you might even have your own match! So exciting. The only person you could think of them pitting you against is Lita, which you didn't mind at all.

"[Name], your hands are shaking."

Torrie's speaking pulls you out of your thoughts, and you bring up your hands to look at them.

You are shaking, and you find it incredibly hard to stop, as much as you try to will your body to.

"Ooh, you are!" She exclaims, looking over you again. "Like, really bad."

The black leathery couch creaks as you shift in your spot. You two were hanging out backstage at the next show, just as Shane requested.

There's gotta be something else you could do instead of sitting around like this. You wish you could run some interference, but as of tonight, you're trying to get into Team WWF's good graces.

You grimace at the thought. That is NOT your company, nor will it ever be. It even feels wrong to think that you belong to them.

You try to twist and turn one of your hands, but you're still jittering. "Sorry." You quickly apologize. "No idea why I can't stop."

When Torrie says absolutely nothing, you turn over to her. It's like she's examining you, but the awed look on her face is starting to agitate you.

She exhaled sharply and pointed a finger at you with a smile. "I get it now! You're nervous!" She exclaims.

"No," You're quickly denying it. "I'm cold, that's all. There's a draft in this room. I don't know how you're not cold with what you're wearing." You motion to her red jumpsuit cut in possibly the most revealing way ever.

"What's wrong with this?" She asks, looking down at herself. "If we want to get contracts, we'll have to make some sacrifices."

The first thing you say is: "…Ew." And although you mutter out an apology, you still find the implication gross.

 "Anyway," Torrie moves on. "You know there's nothing to worry about. Shane has everything under control!"

"Under control?" You jump out of your seat. "Invasion is next month! We have no idea what they're gonna put on the card. I don't think any of us has control over it, WWF does!"

Whenever you get wound up like that, Torrie would always back off to let you cool off. You'd generally sort it by your lonesome. But with how you're acting this go-around, it seemed like you need her intervention today.

"It's okay! That's why we're here." She reminded. She stands up to look you right in the eye. "To figure out what they're up to."

At first, you don't say anything. All you do is look back at Torrie. She gives you an expectant look, and you suck your teeth in response.

"I know." You say. "It's—"

You two are startled by the door slamming open, nearly falling off its hinges. You can hear Vince McMahon's voice from the outside, which makes you stand on guard.

Two men enter the room instead. They look around, turn the room upside down, move chairs, and look behind some plants.

Could Vince not come in himself? Too cowardly to come in? What a pansy.

A camera follows in right behind them, and you get the notion that you're on live TV. You can't hear it, but the crowd cheers at you and Torrie's appearance.

Torrie instinctively hides behind you. In turn, you do your best to stand strong. You try not to show your nervousness, crossing your arms so that you can hide your hands.

The two men in here were still turning the entire room upside down in search of something. You're not happy that these guys are ruining your "unassigned-assigned" room.

"Excuse me! Are you looking for something?" You finally say.

They freeze in tandem, and one looks at you in realization. They didn't care about your presence at all, huh? "Get in here!" One of the men yells out. "That's the girl with Booker T!"

With those words, Vince McMahon himself storms right into the room. You push Torrie even further behind you when he enters.

"Where the hell is Booker T?!" He gives the room a once over and then turns toward you. "You! You would know! Where is he?!"

"…. He's not here." You answer. The sound of shuffling makes you turn your head to the right. One of the men decided to toss your bag across the floor. "Hey! Watch it, that's mine! What the hell is wrong with you?" 

He slowly turns around. "What?"

"You heard me! "Whoever this guy was, your patience was already running thin. "Don't you have any manners? Pick it up!"

"I'm not picking that damn thing up." He says. Now that you get a better look at him, he looks exactly like the figure you saw at WWF New York.

If your memory serves you correctly, this is Stone Cold Steve Austin. Who just threw your very expensive bag on the floor?

The other guy with medals around his neck leans down and picks it up instead. "Here you go." He reaches it out toward you.

"Kurt, what the hell are you doing?!" He yelled. "She's a WCW girl! You [Name]?"

"Oh." Kurt falters, then drops your bag right onto the floor. Again.

"That's me, yeah." Though you confirm your identity, you feel exasperated. The crowd can't help but laugh. "…Please." You beg. "STOP DROPPING MY BAG." You kneel to pick it up and gently place it on the couch behind you. This time, they won't throw it around as if it had no value.

After that whole debacle, the question remains. "Well, where is he?" Vince asks. You narrow your eyes at him.

It takes everything, and you mean everything, not to insult him. It's all too easy to beat everyone up with a makeshift weapon and leave with Torrie for the rest of the night.

"You didn't hear me before? I said, I don't know." You repeat. "Maybe you should open up your ears, ol—"

"W-We don't know, Mr. McMahon!" Torrie cuts you off quickly. It's for the best. "You see, we're so glad you came here. Our contracts are expiring, and we were looking for something new."

You're sure that they were suspicious. After you attacked Lita, you weren't sure they'd go through with her idea. Torrie, sure. You already know she'll get in because she wasn't guilty, and newsflash: she's also attractive.

You, you're not sure. Obviously, you're attractive, but you may have ruined your chance by jumping on Lita like that. You decide to decorate your white lie with another.

"I just don't want to be a leader. I was told to do that to Lita, and I feel horrible. I don't want to be involved with WCW." You kick up your act to 100 by forcing tears to spring to your eyes, which sells it more. "Shane may even fire me for talking to you…"

"That's what you get when you deal with those classless WCW folk," Kurt snidely remarked, shaking his head. "Am I right, fellas?"

Vince and Austin look at each other for a moment, then nod their heads. Then, Kurt turns to you with his hand out.

"Hi, [Name]. Nice to meet you. I'm Kurt Angle, Olympic gold medalist." He reaches his hand out for you to shake, and you use your non-wet hand to shake it. Sorry about your bag." 

Guess an apology is a good way to start.

"Hello. It's fine." You shake his hand quickly and then return to your sob story. "I guess you're right. That company is classless." 

Torrie rubs your shoulder. "It's okay. It's okay, [Name]." She then turns to Vince. "Will you consider it?"

He's still not convinced. "And you are…..?"

She fills in the blank for him. "Torrie Wilson. From WCW. We would be so honored to work with you."

'We?' You think. Torrie must've been taking French classes. 

Nothing seems out of the ordinary. Seeing as no one's jumping out at them, all three men relax at her words.

"I might be able to tell you where I think he is." When you say that, all three men perk up toward you.

Torrie looks alarmed but quickly calms down in fear of getting caught. You try to reassure her by patting the hand she kept on your shoulder.

"My only request is that you consider hiring us when our contracts go down the drain."

Honestly, you don't know where Booker T is, but you still try to compromise to get in good with them.

"Alright then. I'll do it. But Torrie, it's good to meet you. Very, very good." Vince was clearly trying to make moves on your blonde friend. "Maybe this weekend, dinner?"

Before Torrie can respond, you're quick to answer him. " We," You emphasize, "—can meet you at the show. No dinner, sorry. I don't think we'll be hungry."

Austin is pleased to hear it. "That sounds good. We don't need her. Then we'll go to dinner, Vince. I'll clear my schedule."

Kurt immediately jumps on the bandwagon. "Me too. I'll be there."

Austin shakes his head. "…We don't need you."

You clear your throat, making everyone look at you. "If you wanna know, I'm 99% sure Booker T is somewhere in the locker rooms. He could be looking for you guys like you're looking for him."

You can see them get all hyped up at your reveal, so you hope that was the push so they can get the fuck out of here.

Kurt is the only one who thanks you; he mutters it while vigorously shaking your hand one last time.

And thankfully, it was the push. They weren't sticking around for too long. At the very least, the three bid you and Torrie a quick goodnight and bolted out the door.

It must be important to find him. It's too bad you pointed them in the wrong direction. You knew that he wasn't anywhere near the stadium yet.

The more they looked, the more they wouldn't expect his appearance. They'll think he's not there at all, and the next time they're defenseless…WHAM! They won't see it coming!

God, you need to find a way to top that. Booker T is beating you in that department! You pray that Shane wouldn't actually get rid of you because you weren't performing up to standard.

You've got this. All you have to do is start plotting in your hotel room. You won't ask Shane what he thinks should be done. You'll spring the idea on him instead.

You wipe the crocodile tears, swiping a few fingers under your eye to not smudge the makeup you had on. Torrie walks over to the door and peeks out to ensure they're gone. She gently closes the door behind her afterward.

"When they came in, you looked like you were about to scream." She says.

You snicker. "I wish I could tell you how uncomfortable that entire exchange made me. Starting from pretending I'm something I'm not to that McMahon being around making me gag."

"I could've handled it myself." She starts. "But I still appreciate you saying something. We definitely wouldn't have gotten those contracts if you said anything more than that."

Yes, sometimes you could say some crazy things, but it's not always your intention to! Things tend to slip out of your mouth. You're just speaking your truth…

People have told you before that you like to speak about what's on your mind. Whether that was bad or good was always left to your interpretation.

"Pretty much. Anyway, we should split up." You suggest. "I'm going to try to apologize to Lita. Maybe I can find other people in the meantime."

"Oooh, you're finally deciding to make friends! Now you don't need to bother me and Stacy anymore." Torrie teased.

"I'm not gonna be friends with anyone in here!" You clarify. Seriously, you wouldn't be caught dead hanging with someone from here. "Besides, you guys love me and would get jealous of seeing me with anyone else."

She smiles at you. "Hmm, we get jealous? I'll have to get back to you on that."

You try to stay in your itty bitty circle for the most part, but you have no qualms about hanging out with coworkers.

Now, people from the WWF? No way. You don't think they could replicate the charm that the others had. Sure, people like Sting would stare creepily at you as you played chess. That was neat, but you can't beat him to this day!

You learn things, too. People like Randy Savage would yell at you and tell you to raise your voice to present yourself better. Fun!

And then you had people like Mona, who was friendly and calm. She's given you advice many times. It was a change of pace from the energetic characters you surrounded yourself with. 

You think there's no competition.

You move past Torrie and open the door, peaking your head down the hallway. There is someone not too far away. It's not Kurt, Vince, or Austin. It's someone else.

He's blonde, and he's holding something almost obnoxiously large. From this distance, it's safe to assume it's a trophy.

You retreat into the room. "And just like that, I already see my first target. How about I meet you back here when the show's over?"

"Fine with me." She agreed. "You know, I saw a Friday's on Time Square. Do you want to go after the show? Oh, oh, and who was it at the door?"

"I don't see why not." You don't mind hanging out. Not one bit. "And I think you're asking the wrong person. I can tell he's not a part of our team. He was blonde, and I think he was holding a trophy. No clue who that is. I need Shane to run me down on these people. I only know Trish, Lita, Matt, and the Big Show from him. I think I know the commentators, too?"

Shane was only telling you important information, so you figured these other randoms were less important to be known by you.

"Oooh, he's blonde?" Torrie's got that knowing sound in her voice, and you groan. "That's totally your type, [Name]. Everyone backstage used to say that you loved the blondes."

You look at her incredulously. "You're joking." Because she had to be. Who would even say that? It's not your fault that 80% of your friends had that hair color.

"Hehe. Yeah, I am. Wait, come here! If you want his attention, you've gotta oil up the good bits! Also, I think you need to wear something else!" Torrie exclaimed, dashing over to her bag.

Nuh-uh. No way. Not this time. She will NOT make you her Barbie doll again. You let the woman recommend clothes to you once and now she thinks she's your stylist!

"Torrie, what the hell do you mean oil up?! Leave me alone!" You exclaim. "I've gotta get this guy before he leaves!"

She's got the bottle in her hands, shooting you a pout. "Fine. But can't you lift your shirt just a little so that—"

"If you say anything else, I swear to god I will get you." You threaten, pointing a finger at her.

She backs off, holding her hands up to you. "Touchy!"

Saying nothing else to her, you open the door and walk down the hallway to approach this stranger.

You remember to keep a puzzled look on your face, then look around the room, all confused. The more ditzy you act, the more men will feel inclined to help you.

You let out an aggravated sigh, which is the one thing that caught his attention. He shifts the trophy in his hand to take a better look at you and then takes a few steps back in alarm.

"Woah, rogue WCW woman spotted. Don't attack me." He says. "I'm armed." He holds out the trophy to you warily, then pokes your stomach with one of the tiny metal prongs of the trophy.

"Ow—not a threat!" As plastic as those prongs were, they hurt like hell.  You feign panic, throwing your hands up. "I'm not a threat. I was just looking for someone! I want to tell Lita I'm sorry. Have you seen her?"

He's not sold at all, considering you cracked her head open the other day. "You want to say you're sorry? Listen, I don't care how tempting you are, I won't fall for whatever you've got going on. You're gonna try and take her out!"

This guy may have got the wrong idea. You're not into seducing him. Not yet, anyway.

"Thank you," You accept the compliment. "I, and probably you, have no idea what you're going on about." He may be in his head about you. "I'm only here to make amends because my contract may expire. I'll be out of work and out of a leader spot in no time."

They'd have to pry you from Shane's cold, dead hands. You don't have a choice but to hold onto the lie that your contract is ending soon.

"That sucks." He outright says, using a hand to comb through the top of his hair. "Uh, I mean, I'm sorry to hear that." He genuinely did seem apologetic, so he may be falling for it.

You’re still trying to be nice. "I'm [Name], but with you knowing what I did to Lita, you might already know."

"Yeah," He nods. "People've been talking about you beating up Lita. They're wondering what they're gonna do now. You're kinda gutsy for even showing up tonight. I'm Edge." He feels it's only fitting for him to introduce himself back, but it's easy to see that he's hesitant.

You smile anyway. Your following words are honeyed when you speak them. "Hi, Edge. Good to meet you. I'm gonna remind you that I mean no harm, seriously. After I talk to Lita, I'll even leave the arena. Are you sure you don't know where she is?"

"Lita.." Edge repeats, looking away from you for a second. "She might be with the Hardy Boys. I'm pretty sure."

It's part of a confession, making you think he had been holding back due to his suspicion.

"Hardy Boys, huh? Ah, do you know where catering is?" You ask. "I got so lost, completely forgot how big the Garden is." It's an exaggeration, but you should get some directions while you're at it.

…This is partly because you're hungry too.

Will the WWF's food hold its own against WCW catering? You need to put it to the test. You won't lie; your company had some of the best food by far.

It's not like you could put anything else to the test anyway. You hadn't even gotten a chance to get started on those local circuits because you took the chance and signed up for the Powerplant instead. It may have been too early, but it's gotten you far enough to be handed that beautiful contract.

It's not like you minded, you practically grew up watching it with relatives. Calling home with the exciting news was returned with happiness and playful jealousy.

Edge turns and points down the hallway. "Should it be that way to your left? Could be wrong, so don't come back trying to attack me."

You wave him off. "I won't. I think I'll give you a suplex. How does that sound to you?"

"I think I'd be the one doing that to you, [Name]." He countered. "You look pretty easy to carry."

"Edge! Been lookin' for you, man. Where'd you go?" Another voice makes you turn around to see yet another blonde man with goggles approaching you, and you fight the urge to throw your arms up in exasperation.

Maybe Torrie was right. You're not beating the blonde-lover allegations. You're losing… she's winning!! You hate it!

He looks over toward you, eyeing you up and down. Then he comes closer to Edge, muttering something else. "Who's that?"

"[Name], this is Christian, my brother." Edge introduces. "Christian, this is [Name]."

Brother, huh?

Christian looks between the two of you incredulously, then settles his eyes on Edge. "Wait, this is the chick that—"

The both of you say the end at the very same time. "…smashed Lita's head into the ground." You already knew it was coming. "Yes. That's me."

"Guess it's obvious then." He snickered.

"I may have done it, but it wasn't my intention." For a second, you pause because it was. There's no way it was just a freak accident. "It wasn't my intention to make her my enemy." You correct. "All I wanted to do was say sorry about it. It was all a misunderstanding on my end. Maybe we can work together against WCW."

You're trying your best to present yourself as a charity case towards them, and they, along with the others, are taking the easy bait.

He's not as apologetic as Edge was, but Christian still shakes his finger at you. "Work together, eh? You know what? She could help us, Edge. Those Hardy's, you know we've been feuding since 1999."

He then turns to you. "[Name], it's a big thing."

"What was the last time we won, last month?" Edge asks.

Christian takes a second to think about it and then replies. "Yeah, man. It was us and Rhyno. Eddie tagged along with them. Then we lost to him and Jeff. Remember?"

"Yep. Something happened every time." Edge reminisces about those matches. "We won that first one, sure, but Lita kept getting in the way."

"Exactly." Christian's leading up to something with this. "I hate to say it, but they've got us beat, man. We never got someone to deal with Lita, and she's done that hurricanrana crap to both of us! That's what usually messes us up." Christian continued to explain.

"If we have her…" Edge vigorously nods his head, waving his finger back at him. "I see where you're going with this man."

This was perfect! You swear you'd kiss Christian if you could. He's got you right where you need to be for the most part. A smile grows on Edge's face. "She can get rid of Lita! Dude, you're like, genius level of genius."

Genius level of genius? That’s original.

Christian takes that trophy out of Edge's hands for some reason. He snugly adjusts it in his arms, holding it as if he wouldn't let go.

Neither you nor Edge question it; they are more interested in getting rid of those Hardy Boys once and for all.

Well, you're only partly in on their fantasy. You had no idea how their feud went! The only question you have to ask is, "Are you guys going to be able to get us on the card for that?"

"You don't have to worry about that, [Name]. As the King of the Ring winner, I'll make sure it gets done!" Edge exclaims.

Aha! No wonder he had that trophy. It makes sense, but you're not sure how big of an achievement it was. As long as it got you on the card, you're good.

"Commissioner Regal is a real pain. Are you sure you're gonna be able to do it, dude?" Christian asks. "You know, it's always the Brits. He acts like he's got a stick up his ass."

"Don't worry about it. Me and you will go into his office." Edge pats his shoulder. "We'll get that match in no time."

You're down. "Okay then. You guys tell me when we go. I'll be ready. Edge, you said catering was down that way, right?"

He gives you a thumbs up, and you say goodbye. Maybe you'll see them more in the future, especially since you're teaming up now.

You turn your head behind you and see they're still watching you go. You decide to give them one final wave for real. Before you get to catering, you wait until you're a reasonable distance to pull out your phone and dial Shane up.

It's a quick detour, hitting a sharp left in the hallway. You're met with another room nearby, a gift from whatever god was out there, the janitor's closet.

It would be better to finish the call there, wouldn't it? No curious eyes, no listeners. It'll just be you. 

Your paranoia starts to spike because you're already peeking around the corner to see if anyone's there. The coast may be clear, but you won't take your chances. Closet it is.

You've already got your phone in your hand as you open the door. The only thing that would keep you company now were the cleaning supplies lined up on the shelves. 

You're already dialing Shane up once you close the door behind you. Most of your paranoia has subsided after closing it, and you keep your hand on the doorknob to ensure that no one else opens it to interrupt you.

Your back is turned, but what more should you be afraid of? Those mops and brooms? If anyone saw you going in, you'd say you needed some fresh air alone. Something like that.

"I wasn't expecting any company."

"My god!" You instinctively yell, jumping out of your skin. Goddamn it! Why would anyone be in the dark, in the janitor's closet of all places?! Your hand reaches for the light switch, flipping it on as soon as your fingers land on it. 

Just your luck. You walk into a squatter's home. You turn behind you to see a man sitting before you, slumped over with his curly hair falling in front of his eyes. "[Name], isn't it?"

Your hand is still on the doorknob. Would it be wrong to say you don't think you can leave yet? He knows your name. You're still alert. "Um, maybe. Why in the hell are you in here alone?" Other than being a total creep.

"Doing drugs. You want?"

He offers it to you so casually! You're taken aback, and it takes you a minute to reply. "No!"

"Relax, I'm joking. You're not a cop, are you? All I am here for is the silence. It's the only thing I can ever find peace of mind in." He says. 

You look at him and nod. "Right. Yeah. Okay. Well, this was all an accident. I have a really important call, so I'm gonna have to leave. Although a word of advice, maybe some pink would be good for your decor."

You're turning away from him, but he's saying something else the next thing you know.

"WCW shouldn't be alone in this fight. We need to take this company down. The WWF is fated to fall."

He makes you turn back around curiously. This may not be a squatter after all; he knows about WCW.

"Who exactly are you?"

As soon as you ask that question, the phone picks up. Shane's voice is loudly on the speaker, "Hello, [Name]? Are you alright?"

You immediately hold the phone to your ear. "What? Yeah. I'm fine. Can I call you back?"

"It's good to know it’s actually your name," the man says, setting his hands on his ankles to stand up from his spot. "Don't hang up now. The show's just starting." He comes closer to you, and you're already trying to hit buttons on your phone for some privacy.

"Don't suppose that's Shane McMahon on the phone? Let me talk to him. We're close. Real close." There's supposed to be excitement in his voice, yet it's delivered to you in the most monotone way possible.

"No, you can't talk to him! I mean, it's not Shane!" You try to cover your tracks, holding out your hand to him. "I have to go, so go do your drugs or whatever you were up to."

He doesn't leave you alone, instead reaching over and snatching the phone out of your hands. He lifts the phone in the air so you can't reach it, then turns away.

"Shane, can you hear me?" He asks, pulling the phone closer to his mouth. "Remember me?"

There's silence at first, and then Shane's voice comes from the phone. "Oh! Hey, Scotty! How're you doing?" You're in complete disbelief.

"You know this guy?!" You exclaim. "Shane, are you pranking me right now?!"

"I don't go by that anymore. It's Raven now. I'll be the first to tell you that ECW wants in. We've seen what's been going on."

"ECW as in Extreme Championship Wrestling?" Do they really want in? Any help is good, and it'd be two against one. You're not entirely against the idea. "Wait, give me my phone back! This isn't for you!"

"You're with [Name] right now?"

"Yeah. She's pretty aggressive. It goes to show what kind of women you surround yourself with, Shane." He comments.

"Who in the world told you that?" You ask, ignoring his snide remark. "Are you ECW's leader or something? I bet you don't have as much authority as I do."

"Okay, okay. There's no need to fight, guys." Shane is trying to be a peacemaker, doing his best to ease any tension. "Raven, if you can clue Paul Heyman in, we can discuss this in more detail in person. My invitation is extended to you, but I need to speak with [Name] for now. We can't proceed unless I talk with her first."

Thank god Shane was on your side. You can't fight the cheeky smile as you expectantly hold your hand out.

"Fine. I'll be the person to spread the message to him. The sooner, the better. Besides, no one wants to keep this outdated Nokia anyway." The sarcasm in his voice is the first emotion you've heard from him.

And you groan in response. For the love of god! Everyone needs to leave the Nokia alone! Raven begrudgingly hands it over and turns over to the door.

You'd think he'd say something else to you, but he only gives you one last glance before leaving.

"And stay out!" You yell behind him, slamming your palm onto the door.

"It's a pleasure to hear your voice, [Name]," Shane says. "I'm assuming you didn't just call me for some casual conversation before you were interrupted. What's going on?"

"Right, right. Before, I was so rudely interrupted." You say. "I ran into this guy Edge and his brother, Christian. They wanted me to team up with them to get rid of Lita. I figured it was a good opportunity to get myself out there. I'm also on my way to apologize to her after I finish talking to you. Is that alright?"

"Is what alright? You apologizing? I was the one that recommended you should—"

"No, no, that I'm even here. You called me a part of your dream team. Torrie told them our contracts were expiring soon. I played off that, but any smart person wouldn't get rid of their leader that fast. I don't want them to doubt me." At the end, you let out a sharp sigh.

Thanks to your explanations, no one's questioning you, but it's pretty easy to get caught up in a lie you tell.

"You worry a lot!" He laughs again, and you furrow your brows. "It'll be fine. A lot of those wrestlers aren't smarter than a bag of rocks. Trust me, I know this for a fact. My father's not any smarter. He has no idea what's coming to him, especially with ECW possibly helping us."

Talk about throwing people under the bus. It seems Shane's pretty relentless when it comes to his old employees. You're just glad you're not on the receiving end. Shane's been here longer than you, so you have no choice but to believe him.

However, you still feel hesitant. "Are you really sure?"

"How about this, then. I keep Torrie so she and Stacy can feud with Trish and Lita; you continue to play nice with the WWF since you're already there. You let them think that you're working your way to betray us when, in actuality, you're going to betray them."

Keeping Torrie after she told them that your contracts were expiring? That would be risky, along with you slotting into the roster. But you'll try and conform to it. "Okay, okay." You agree. "I think I can do that."

"Have some faith in me." It's like he can sense your hesitation. "More importantly, have some faith in yourself, [Name]. Was that all?"

The only thing you can do is try. "Yeah, I'll talk to you when I hear anything new."

"Alright then, you take care, [Name]."

Ending the call with those final words, you shove your phone back into your pocket. As much as you want to take a second to breathe, Lita's the next person on your list.

Opening the closet door, you head straight towards the double doors of catering. Oh boy, you hope Lita's in here. If not, you'll have to continue your journey elsewhere. You don't have all night, though.

You're met with a few unfamiliar faces when you open the door. They stare at you in confusion, which quickly turns into alarm. Some people even stand up from their seats.

You come in peace, for now! "Everyone can relax. I want to be on your side now. I came to apologize." You don't even beat around the bush.

Most are suspicious but still get back into their seats. What were they going to do anyway? You could defend yourself with one of these chairs if you needed to.

Scanning the room, you find the woman of the hour looking at you with wide eyes. You immediately approach her. A relieved smile appears on your face as your searching is no longer needed, tossing out your arms. "Lita!"

Just as you call her name, two men protectively stand before her. The only one you knew was Matt, although the other guy had a striking resemblance to him. Siblings, perhaps?

Matt was the one that had enough gall to get in your face. "You've got a lot of nerve showin' up here," Matt started, waving his finger at you. The southern twang in his voice almost makes you giggle. It's so out there.

You do your best to cover it by looking sad instead. "Tell me something I don't know. Sorry, but losing was your fault, though." That's one thing you had to make clear. "Tell me, was it nice when Trish kissed you? Did you even try to push her away?"

You pucker your lips toward him and kiss the air as he huffs at you. Matt is frustrated at your taunt and clenches his fist. What you say is true; you and Lita had your own business. Whatever he did in the ring was his responsibility.

Didn't mean you could tease him so freely about it, though.

He's going to say something else to you, but Lita shakes her head, getting up from her seat and stepping in front of him instead. "No, Matt. Just leave it. It's okay." And then she looks at you directly. "You must be really brave to show up here after what you did, or maybe you're just stupid."

It's the second time you've heard that tonight..

"Never stupid." You'd like to get that straight now. "Only apologetic." And for her to even say that makes you sure about your decision. You're glad you beat her up on Raw.

"I thought attacking you would prove my allegiance to Shane. He ordered it. I did it, but I see how wrong it is and how fucked up WCW is. After thinking about what I did to you, I wanted to come to this show and make things right."

It seems like you're taking a breath when, in actuality, you're trying to get your lies together. "I was sad and idling the halls. I want WCW to crash and burn. I have my allegiance and want it to be with all of you." You make sure to say it loudly enough so others can hear you.

"Well, I don't think any of us trust you." Matt cut in. "Something's not right about you."

"Matt, give the woman a break." The other guy says. "She's tryin' to help us. She apologized for what she did. I'm sure we've made some mistakes, so we could try and give her some credit."

Whoever this guy was with brightly dyed purple hair, you're glad he stepped in. You make a mental note to remember his face if he never introduced himself to you.

No, you won't let that happen. The only person you extend your hand to is him, although your proper introduction is meant for all of them. "I think we should get off on the right foot now. I'm [Name]. I want to be on your side now."

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Lita and Matt share some telepathic looks. All you did was introduce yourself to him!

He reaches out his hand. "Jeff."

Matt's the one who brings Jeff back to Earth, smacking his shoulder. It makes Jeff retract his hand before you can even take it. "The hell are you doin'?! We can't trust her!" It's a whispered shout that you're in clear range of hearing, not that Matt cared.

Jeff shrugs at him, then holds his hands up. "I thought…”

"Hardy meeting," He points toward the door, sounding as stern as they come. "Right now. Lita, you do what you need to do with her."

Jeff slunks over to the door, and Matt is just about to follow, but Lita gives him a parting kiss before he goes. She mutters, "I love you," but Matt's already storming off to deal with Jeff to even reply.

"So, you two are an item after all. It wasn't just jealousy." You comment. The urge to make another Trish jab was strong, but by divine intervention, you didn't say it.

"Yeah. A year, now." She confirms.

That information goes right into the filing cabinet. You give a half-smile to her. "All of you are friends then?"

It's a bit tense between you two, but Lita replies anyway, albeit strained. "Yeah, uh, we're a team. They're brothers. Matt's the oldest."

It makes sense. They looked similar, and Matt used that authoritative tone when telling Jeff to go outside.

Either way, you decide to jump straight to the chase. "I'm gonna take this chance to clear the air while it's just me and you. Lita, I was being honest when I said I wanted to take WCW out. I've gotten so close to Shane McMahon that it would be a shame for all of us to waste this opportunity. Even out of all this, I want a friendly rivalry from you at most."

Friendly, yes, that's what you wanted. It's not like you'll stiff her in the ring or anything.

"Like they always say, it's just business, you know? No hard feelings."

Lita takes a minute to think about it, turning her head away from you and then turning back. "You know what? Fine. No hard feelings. I'll give you another chance, [Name]. But if you screw up again, I can't guarantee that I won't fight you about it."

"That is totally fine. Trust me, I won't mess up again. I'll be there to help you when our goals align." Your professional tone was leaking out...

This is partly thanks to the many creative meetings and other ventures you've had at WCW. Reassurance and composure are two ways to worm your way inside a company. "Is the food any good here, by the way?"

And you can understand if Lita doesn't fully trust you. If you were in her position, you wouldn't trust yourself either.

Lita shrugs. "I mean, yeah. It's alright, I guess. You'd have to try it yourself." You still do think she believes you, despite her dry responses. It's just more progess you need to make.

"Oh my gosh, [Name], right?"

Lita groans and tosses her head up toward the ceiling. Whoever said your name, Lita wasn't happy to see them.

You turn your head over to see Trish. "Could I have a moment?" She clasps her hands together.

It's like Lita gives you the same look she gave Matt, trying to tell you something without using her words. It's difficult for you to understand, so she instead decides to leave you two be.

"Do whatever the hell you want. She's all yours." She'll probably join that Hardy meeting if they're still out there.

The both of you watch her go, and once she's out, Trish gives you her undivided attention. "Lita's always been...catty. I mean, she's been bullying me since my debut! How crueler can you get? I don't understand why she doesn't like me. And here I am, trying to let creative put us together in case we have to go against WCW. Not you now, of course."

"Stacy Keibler. Torrie Wilson." You offer up their names. "Only two they'll probably pit you against. They're all they have now."

On another note, you're trying to understand why Lita disliked Trish that much. Well, it's obvious why she didn't like you, but that's only because you did something to provoke her into it.

As you recall, Trish did end up kissing Matt. It all makes sense now, Lita looking pissed about it as she retaliated. They're an item! It's no wonder Lita wants her out.

You'll let Trish figure out that part by herself some time. "Guess you've gotta get to know her a little better. You're Trish, right?"

"That's me. I'm glad I caught you. I wanted to say thank you. Lita was gonna rough me up some more if you didn't step in when you did." Her fingers move a few strands of hair out of her face. "I feel like I owe you. What do you say to lunch next Wednesday?"

Lunch with Trish? Looks like you're already getting in good with these superstars! "Fine with me."

"I'm sorry about Shane McMahon, by the way." She adds. "We need all the help we can get, and you deserve this spot. Guess all McMahon's are pigs."

All? Like, all of them? Not Shane, at least. Shane's been nothing but pleasant and respectful to you. Unlike your previous boss, Eric Bischoff, who you were sure hated your guts with the way he treated you.

"Oh yeah, probably. I wouldn't be surprised. Even my old boss was a sleazeball." You mention.

You always thought he preferred Stacy to you when booked in certain segments. You and "Miss Hancock" were always set together when possible, but she was always going over most of the time.

At first, you had a time when you resented Stacy, putting a strain on your relationship for months. But you slowly came to terms with the fact that it was never her fault. It was management. You'd bring up your problems to Eric, and he'd dangle your contract over your head. He was quick to tell you that you didn't have to stay. Could head back right to your hotel.

That's something you don't miss.

"Then I guess we've both had some problems with our bosses, huh?" Trish mused. "It's not a very good thing, but it makes me feel better to know I'm not alone."

You're not sure what history she's had with Vince McMahon, but if she was comparing her situation to your own, then she's definitely seen some shit. You'll have to ask her about it over lunch.

Honestly, you're happy she was so sweet. Considering you saved her skin, it was fair, but hospitality goes a long way for you right now.

"Did you want to sit with me? I've got an extra seat right next to me." She uses both of her thumbs to point to her left.

"I don't see why not," You smile. Let me get something to eat first." You're already sauntering off towards the table of different foods as you hear her say, "I'll just be over here then."

You have no idea where to start. To distract yourself for only five seconds, you grab a plate. Then you're already back to square one. What do you want to eat?!

Fruit, muffins, salad, you name it, they've got it. Everything looks appealing, and it's damn near stressing you out.

You make a mental apology to Trish because you're definitely going to be here for quite a while.

as i said on the ao3 ver, i envisioned 90s look raven because that’s probably my favorite iteration of that asshole. and this is actually really fun to write since I can build up relationships 😭 i kinda cringe seeing my old writing but im happy u guys really liked it!! Thanks for reading :D

[sanshoney]

father & male!child!reader

reader is 10, father is 38

no plot, just general fluff

shout out to boys who never had a healthy father figure in their life

(intentional lowercase, y/n is not used)

– being a divorced father with a 10 year old is a bit difficult, william can tell this much. working overtime to maintain the middle class life both for himself and his child is more than exhausting. but at the end of the day, it's all worth it. everything for his darling boy, right?

– sometimes, he can't manage to pick you up from school, so he asks his best friend, jake, to do that. luckily, jake is a sweetheart and you warmed up to him pretty quickly. he's kinda your best friend too, at this point.

– everytime he comes home, tired, hungry and grumpy from work, you never fail to make him smile. the way you jump up from the couch, scream "daddy!" and run into his arms gets him everytime. he lifts you up and spins you around giggling. you always giggle along with him, wrapping your legs around his torso for extra safety. "hi, sweetheart. how's my darling boy doing, hm?" he kisses your forehead and cheeks lovingly.

– he's a busy man, but he always makes sure to have time for you. father-son weekends are a must, where you basically do anything together. the keyword is "together". you could watchim movies, go to the playground, draw together or even cook (you being his "little assistant", as he calls you, because he's obviously not gonna let you near to the stove), all that matters is that you're having a good time with your father.

– in your eyes, he's the one who knows everything. when you have a question, you ask it from him. when he's not around, jake would do, sure, but he's the main source of your knowledge. you always say that everything you know, you know it from him. it doesn't matter that you learnt reading, still learning counting and numbers in school, you deny it all. you always tell will that he's much better than school and you could spend your whole life having knowledge only from him. he only laughs and pats your head, "you're too sweet for your own good."

– he makes sure to raise you right, so you'll turn out a mentally healthy and happy person. he teaches you to refrain and not listen to anything that toxic masculinity contains. "having emotions is okay. everyone has them; everyone cries, laughs or gets embarrassed from time to time. feeling sad it's more than okay, my boy. if you need to cry, let it out. im here for you always, sweetie. please rely on me when needed."

– he teaches you about different races and sexualities pretty soon. he wants you to be a respectful and open-minded person. and if happens, that you're not cis or straight, don't hate yourself but instead accept yourself. he really just wants the best for you.

– he also teaches you that being kind and affectionate isn't feminine. hugging or kissing someone you love and fond of it's just a human thing, not a "girl thing". thats why, he always encourages you to kiss or hug him when you'd like to. of course, he doesn't force you - he said that there are people who simply don't like physical touch and you need to respect that. boundaries are meant to be taken seriously, after all.

– he has a habit of calling you by petnames like honey, sweetheart, darling and anything like those. "petnames are a sign of affection. you can use petnames on your romantic partners, or in our case, familiar bonds too. tell me, if you'd like me use a new petname or want me stop the whole thing," he's just so considerate of your feelings.

– "a good man is respectful, loving and kind. these are the main qualities of a healthy person."

– he makes sure to compliment and praise you a lot. he wants you to have a healthy confidence - you're perfect, after all. in his eyes, at least. "that's my boy", "you did such a good job, darling. im so, so proud of you", "look at you being so pretty in your new tee. you're beautiful, my sweet". he always makes you feel so good and warm. that's why, you compliment him back. "daddy, your new shirt looks really nice on you", "daddy, you look so handsome today".

– but of course, both of you compliment each other's personalities as well. "my boy, it was so kind of you to say that about jake. im so proud to have such an endearing little boy like you". "honey, you are so clever. not many kids know this. you're quick to learn. im very proud of you, dear". there are times, when wills especially emotional. he can give a long, loving speech about his unconditional love for you.

you're laying on your father's chest, your head burried in his neck. he's slowly rubbing your back and hums a familiar melody. you're not sure what it is tho. you're on the verge of falling asleep, when you suddenly hear wills voice.

"darling?" his voice is soft, gentle in case you're already sleeping. "hmm?" "you know i love you very much, right?" "i love you too, daddy." "and you know im always proud of you? im always gonna be proud of you, no matter what you do. even if you make mistakes, you're perfect for me. everytime i look at you i just... feel so much love towards you. my sweet, adorable boy. you're so kind, clever and affectionate. you're my pride and joy." he kisses your forehead. you feel yourself blushing, hearing your daddy's loving words always being a treat. and you're having a lot of treats. "you're worth every single overworked day, every frown that paints my face less friendly. coming home to you is what keeps me going. feeling your little arms and legs wrapped around my body makes me happy beyond words. im so happy to have a son like you..." his voice cracks and you can see his eyes glisten. he's so full of emotions right now.

you lift your head up from his chest quickly, worried. "please don't cry, daddy... you make me happy too. i love you too. please don't be sad." you say softly, rubbing his cheeks clumsily and looking at him with your doe eyes. he can't help but smile at your sweetness. "baby, im not sad. i feel the opposite, actually. these are tears of happiness."

you frown at him confused. if he's happy, why is he crying? isn't crying a bad thing? you decide, it doesn't matter. you just want to comfort him, like he always does with you. you press soft kisses to his whole face, leaving a bit of your molecules on his skin. he smiles gently and if anything, he just wants to cry harder now. he can't believe he has got such an angel in his life. "you're a blessing. an angel descended from heaven. i can't believe i have such a miracle in my arms like you..." he starts cradling you. "d-daddy..." you blush again. sometimes you wonder what did you ever do to deserve him. "im not an angel..." "you are. my little angel." he grins happily and covers your face in soft kisses, giving you back the favor from earlier. you smile sheepishly, basking in your father's love. it feels almost natural, really.

you can't help but wonder what would it be like, if you had a different parent, someone meaner and crueler. but the thing is, you don't have to worry about that. all that matters is that you have the perfect father, the kinda one shown in tv. and you couldn't be happier.

hope you enjoyed!! ♡