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uzurakis · 3 days

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hello!

Can we have JJK guys reaction to his friend/buddy being in love with his girlfriend? (can sukuna and other any other characters you like).

THEIR FRIEND ALSO . . . LIKES YOU?!

featuring: ryomen sukuna. gojo satoru. itadori yuuji. fushiguro megumi.

n. hey sweetheart, i’m not used to writing sukuna, but i tried to write him as him as much as i can! i hope it suits him. thankies for the req x—x

GOJO SATORU. when gojo found out that his friend also liked you, his reaction was, unsurprisingly, far from what most people would expect. instead of anger or jealousy, he simply shrugged it off, his trademark smile playing on his lips.

“did you hear what i just said?” you asked, looking at him with wide eyes, he wasn’t fazed. “your friend likes me.”

gojo laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “oh, i heard you,” he replied, leaning back against the couch with an amused glint behind those glasses. “but why should i be worried? i know you’ll choose me at the end of the day.”

you blinked, taken aback by his confidence. “you’re not even a little bit concerned?”

“not at all,” gojo said, grinning. “i mean, can you blame them? you’re everything. but they don’t stand a chance against me, darling.”

“besides, it’s not like i don’t trust you. i know you love me.”

his words were playful, but because you know him well, he was serious. it was just the way he expressed it. “you’re right,” you admitted, tracing figures on his hands. “i do love you.”

“see? nothing to worry about. let him have their crush. it doesn’t change anything between us. if anything, it’s flattering. just proves i have excellent taste.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA. being in a relationship with sukuna meant navigating his unpredictable moods and overwhelming presence, but you had never seen him this angry before. the air seemed to crackle with his frustration as he paced back and forth, his eyes blazing with a fury that sent chills down your spine.

“babe,” you began, trying to calm him down. “what’s wrong?”

he stopped pacing and looked at you, his expression dark. “fucking jerk, it’s that so-called ‘friend’ of mine,” words spat out immediately. “i found out he likes you.”

your heart skipped a beat. you had noticed the way his friend had been acting lately, but you hadn’t thought much of it. now, seeing sukuna’s reaction, you realized just how serious this was.

“ryo,” you said softly, stepping closer to him. “i chose you from the start, right?”

he growled, his hands clenching into fists. “i don’t care about that. he should have known better. he should have known that you’re mine.”

sukuna lined up his hand on your chin, causing your eyes to meet. “if he comes near you, he’ll face my wrath,” he whispered, his tone still laced with menace. “no one threatens what’s mine.”

“especially my woman.”

ITADORI YUUJI. you told him about his friend’s feelings while you both were sitting inside your cozy room. itadori’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but then he leaned back in his chair, processing the information.

“wow,” he said softly, scratching the back of his head, those pink locks becoming messier. “i didn’t see that coming.”

bitting your lower lip, you’re worried about how he might take the news. “you’re not mad, aren’t you?”

but your boyfriend shook his head, full of understanding. “no, i’m not mad, baby. feelings are complicated, y’know? it’s not like he can control how he feels.”

you sighed in relief, appreciating his maturity. “okay... i was just worried about how you’d react.”

“baby, i trust you, and i trust our relationship. besides, i’m kind of curious now. like, since when did he start liking you? how did i miss that?”

feeling the tension ease out of the situation, you chuckled at him. his obliviousness always gets in the way. “don’t know the exact moment, but i guess it’s been a while.”

“hmm,” the guy leaned forward, resting his chin on his free hand. “did he ever try to tell you or make a move?”

you shook your head. “no, i guess he didn’t. i think he knew about us and didn’t want to cause any trouble.” after your statement, a thoughtful expression was written on his face. “that must have been tough for him. i mean, having feelings for someone who’s already in a relationship.”

“it probably was,” you agreed. “but i’m glad you’re handling this so well.”

“hey, anyone would be lucky to have you. i just got there first.”

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. he took a deep breath, deciding to be honest. after fushiguro found out that his friend liked you, it hit him harder than he wanted to admit. the knowledge gnawed at him, and although he tried to brush it off, doubts began to creep in, making him question his own worth and your relationship. “i found out that one of my friends likes you.”

“really? who?” you blinked in surprise, not expecting that. he named the friend, and you frowned, thinking back on any interactions you might have had. “i had no idea…”

fushiguro nodded, but his eyes avoiding yours. “i didn’t either. it just… fuck, it bothers me.”

“i guess it makes me question things. like, am i good enough for you? do you have feelings for him too? those sorta things..”

your hands immediately caressed his by instinct, seeing him like this made your heart ache. “baby, you’re enough for me. i don’t have any feelings for them. i’m with you until the end.”

the man looked down for a long while, his grip on your hand tightening. “but what if i’m not enough? what if there’s something lacking in our relationship that makes you look elsewhere?”

“there’s nothing lacking, megumi. i’m happy with you. and i love you just the way you are.” you shook your head, cupping his face with your free hand.

after that he leaned into your touch, closing his eyes briefly. “i don’t want to that jealous boyfriend but i can’t help it. the thought of losing you to someone else…”

“you’re not going to lose me,” you interrupted softly. “i’m here with you, and that’s not going to change. fushiguro then opened his eyes, searching for reassurance in yours, before closing them again. a little, relieved smile tugged on the edges of his lips. “i love you. i’m sorry for doubting us.”

@uzurakis

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harrysfolklore · 1 day

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oscar piastri being obsessed with his girlfriend: a compilation

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON | oscar smau

Oscar Piastri was known as the introvert and reserved driver on the grid.

While other drivers basked in the spotlight and didn't shy away from sharing details about their personal life, Oscar often preferred to keep his privacy.

However, when it came to his girlfriend, it was a different story altogether.

Oscar was what people called "a total simp" when it came to his girlfriend, always bringing her up in interviews, promo videos and casual conversations, and fans couldn't miss the opportunity to make several compilation videos and tiktoks about it.

The most popular one was called "Oscar Piastri being obsessed with his girlfriend: a compilation" and the 15-minute long video was filled with moments that made fans both awe and laugh.

It started with the clip of the first time he publicly talked about her during a podcast interview, rumors about him not being single were spreading around but nothing was confirmed.

"I do have a girlfriend, yeah," Oscar said, a small smile playing on his face.

"You're not very public, aren't you?" the interviewer asked.

“We keep it to ourselves and try to be out of the spotlight and just live normal lives,” he replied, “We have been dating for over four years now, she has been there for me since the start of my career and I couldn't imagine my life without her. She's my biggest supporter and keeps me grounded.”

The next video showed Oscar and Lando sitting next to each other wearing their McLaren shirts, filming a game called "Green flag or Red flag."

"Picky eaters," the interviewer asked and Lando immediately waved the green flag.

"He's a very picky eater that's why," Oscar said, making Lando laugh, "But, what if they eat fish, cause you hate fish."

Lando dramatically raised the red flag, making everybody laugh again.

"You wouldn't date a pescatarian then," the interviewer said.

"No," Lando shook his head, "They shouldn't be here."

"My girlfriend's a pescatarian, actually," Oscar said, looking at his teammate with a raised eyebrow, "I'll pass that on to her.”

"Noooo mate!" Lando immediately shook his head, waving his hands in mock horror, "Don't tell her I said that, I don't want to be in trouble with your missus! She's a lovely girl."

"She is indeed, but I don't think she'll like you very much after this."

The next segment was from his "Day in the Life" video with Quad Lock, where Oscar gave fans a glimpse into his daily routine. In one particular clip, he was in the kitchen making breakfast.

"So, this is where the magic happens," Oscar said with a cheeky grin as he poured pancake batter onto a hot griddle, "My girlfriend loves pancakes, so I make them every Sunday. It's become sort of a tradition for us."

The camera then panned to a candid shot of his girlfriend, who was sitting at the kitchen island, sipping coffee and smiling fondly at Oscar. She blew him a kiss, which Oscar caught with a playful wink.

"There she is, sitting pretty while I play housewife."

The next clip in the compilation was from a press conference, where a journalist asked him how he manages to stay focused with such a demanding schedule.

"Having a supportive partner really helps," Oscar said earnestly, "She understands the pressures and the demands of the job. She’s my rock and makes everything a lot easier."

"Does it get hard for her when your schedule is too busy for your relationship?"

"My schedule is never too busy for my girlfriend, I always make sure to make time for her. That's why we've been going strong for four years now."

Another McLaren game with Lando was included, this time they were playing Finish the Lyric with Taylor Swift songs.

"Do you feel confident about this game, Oscar?" Lando asked his teammate.

"I do, actually," Oscar nodded confidently, "My girlfriend is a huge Taylor Swift fan so I know a lot of her songs."

"We should get your girl to come and play then," Lando teased.

"She'd probably beat us both, hands down. But I'm not giving up just yet." Oscar chuckled, shaking his head.

The compilation video then transitioned to a moment in the McLaren garage before the first quali of the Hungary Grand Prix. Oscar was off to the side, chatting with his girlfriend, who had joined him for the event.

They seemed to be in their own little bubble, Oscar's attention completely focused on her and his smile wide as he listened to her talk. The camera captured a sweet moment where he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes about their relationship and fans absolutely melted at the interaction.

The next clip showed Oscar at a fan event in Australia, hundreds of fans gathered to meet the drivers and see them up close, Oscar was answering questions from the interviewers when he suddenly addressed one of the fans in the front row.

"I've got a girlfriend, thank you," he said into the microphone, making everyone laugh but look confused at the same time, "For everyone wondering, she just asked what my number was," the crowd laughed again even louder, "But I'm a happily taken man. You're nice but I'm not interested."

In that same event, he got asked what did he miss the most from the UK when he was back in Australia.

"My girlfriend," he immediately said, "Other than that the food is better here, the weather is better here. So my girlfriend, that's it."

The following video was also a fan interaction, this time it was a fan recorded video while he was signing stuff for those waiting for him as he arrived to the paddock for the Austin Grand Prix.

Oscar was signing autographs and taking pictures, when a fan handed him a photo of him and his girlfriend from a race weekend.

"Oh, this is a great picture," Oscar said, grinning as he looked at the photo. "This was taken at Silverstone, right? It was her first time at a race with me. She loved it."

"What's her favorite part about the races?" The fan smiled and asked.

"Probably the adrenaline and seeing me in action," Oscar chuckled, "But she also loves hanging out in the paddock. She gets along really well with everyone here."

The next clip showcased Oscar during a Twitch stream, where he was playing a racing simulator. His girlfriend walked into the room, and the chat exploded with excitement.

"Hey, love," Oscar greeted her, pausing the game.

"Am I interrupting you?" she softly asked.

"Nope, come here," he encouraged to come closer, "Everyone, this is my girlfriend," she waved at the camera, and Oscar wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into the frame. "She's the reason I'm still sane," he joked, earning a kiss on the cheek from her.

The video included one of everyone's favorite interactions between the couple, captured by McLaren's instagram team.

Oscar had just finished a quiali, earning a P2 position, the camera caught as he reunited with his girlfriend who threw her arms around his neck as soon as she saw him.

"Hiii," he shyly said, a hint of a blush on his cheeks.

"You did such a great job, baby," she said, still wrapped around his arms, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"I couldn’t have done it without you cheering me on," he replied, his voice soft and genuine.

The final clip was from the FIA Prize Giving ceremony, Oscar stood on the stage, dressed in a sharp suit, the Rookie of the Year trophy shining in his hands.

"First of all, I want to thank my team, McLaren, for believing in me and giving me the opportunity," Oscar began, his voice steady but emotional, "But most importantly, I want to thank my girlfriend. She's been my rock through it all, supporting me every step of the way. This award is as much hers as it is mine."

The camera panned to his girlfriend, sitting in the audience with tears in her eyes, smiling proudly. The fans watching the livestream couldn't help but gush over the touching moment.

As the compilation ended, the screen faded to black with the text, "Oscar Piastri: The Ultimate Simp, and Proud of It."

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day-dreamed · 3 days

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could you do a shy!reader with early seasons Spencer? Like she’s completely starstruck by him and he’s super oblivious because he doesn’t understand how anyone could be that flustered by him? Thank u xoxo

enamored

spencer reid x reader

you’re absolutely enamored by spencer from the moment you meet him. the only problem? he’s oblivious.

cw: fem!bau!reader, shy!reader, early seasons!spence, spencer is completely oblivious, fluff, pining, use of y/n

It’s hard not to stare at Spencer when he’s passionately rambling about something, your mouth quirking up into a small smile at his gesticulations. You could listen to him for hours no matter what the topic of discussion was.

“Hello? Um, Earth to (Y/n)?”

You snap out of your thoughts, heat crawling up your neck. “Sorry!” you exclaim, offering a sheepish smile. “What’d you say?”

Spencer frowns. “Are you okay? You just seemed like you were a little lost in your head. For the whole time I’ve been talking to you, actually.”

“Yeah,” you nod fervently. “Yeah, I’m fine. Totally fine.”

His frown deepens. “Why do you always act so weird around me?” he asks softly. “Did I do something wrong? Do I make you uncomfortable in any way?”

Your heart starts to pound against your ribcage at the unexpected questions, blood rushing in your ears. “Spencer…” you mumble, dropping your gaze from his.

“If that’s the case, then I’m really sorry—”

“But it’s not,” you blurt out, and your eyes widen.

So do his, his lips parting slightly. “It isn’t?”

“No, of course not,” you say, letting out a deep breath. “It’s, um, kind of the opposite, actually.”

You wring your fingers together as you wait for him to respond. The silence is excruciating, and you decide to be brave and glance up at him. He’s looking at you in a way that makes your breath hitch in your chest.

“You… oh.”

Your heart breaks, immediately taking his response as a rejection. “It’s okay, if—if you don’t like me back,” you tell him, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “I hope that—”

“You like me?” Spencer asks, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

“What?” you squeak out.

He furrows his brows. “I never even thought of the possibility… Since when?”

You let out a weak laugh. “Since the first day I met you, Spence.”

“Wow. That’s… a long time,” he breathes out. “Why me? When there’s people like Derek, or Elle, or—”

“It’s just you,” you tell him, shaking your head. “It’s only been you.”

A grin stretches across his lips at your words, and your stomach flips at the sight. “Well, that’s good, then. Because I really like you too.”

“Really?” you ask, smiling so wide that your cheeks start to hurt, your face on fire.

Spencer nods, still grinning as he reaches forward to take your hand, giving it a light squeeze. “Yeah, really.”

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awakenedevildays · 3 days

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「He doesn't deserve you」 Art Donaldson x F!reader

TW: slight angst, making out

Masterlist

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

He doesn't deserve you, Art always thought that: every time he would look at you and your boyfriend he would think that, every time your boyfriend would flirt with another girl in front of you he would think that and even now that he sees you fighting with your boyfriend at a college party, he thinks that.

He watches you, your welled up tears pulling at his heartstrings and he has a half mind to take you away from Logan, but before he can do something about it your boyfriend storms off the room and you follow him immediately.

Art follows the two out the party and into the parking lot, standing nearby just in case something goes wrong as he watches as the two of you argue, "please, let's talk about it" you beg him as you grab his wrist to stop him but he yanks it off.

"I'm tired of talking. I'm tired of this relationship and I'm tired of you thinking of other men" he shouts and Art raises an eyebrow at what Logan said, you were in love with someone else? did Logan notice how he looked at you every time you would come to see your boyfriend at training? did you notice the way he looks at you? "what is that even supposed to mean!?" you yell as your boyfriend unlocks his car, you behind him.

"I mean that I'm-" your boyfriend raises his gaze from you and catches Art a few meters behind you "of fucking course" he laughs bitterly.

You look confused "what-" you turn around to look what Logan is looking at and you see Art, standing there just as confused as you are "this is absurd Logan" you laugh incredulous but your boyfriend doesn't budge, he gets closer to you.

Now the tone of his voice normal and Art can't hear what he says next "you think I don't see the way he looks at you? the way you look at each other? You and me, we are fucking done, you deserve each other" he climbs on the driver seat.

"wait-" but he doesn't stop and in a few moments he is out of the parking lot.

'What the hell just happened' Art thinks but immediately his worry for you takes over as he sees tears coming out of your eyes when you turn to look at him, his eyes soften at the sight of tears, "are you okay?" he asks as you wipe your tears away.

"I'm fine" you respond with a small sob escaping your lips, but before you can step back Art is in front of you "hey, come here.." he takes your body in his arms, hand rubbing your back comfortingly.

you let out a sob in his arms, hands against his chest to weakly push him away, but you know that's not really what you want, Art holds you tighter, your cheek against his chest, tears wetting his shirt but he doesn't care.

"He's an idiot" Art says softly against the top of your head, his hand rubbing your back comfortingly, trying to soothe your cries "it'll be okay" you nod unconsciously, you'll be okay you think.

Slowly your tears begin to dry up as you sink more and more into his embrace, feeling the safest you've ever felt as Art runs his fingers through your hair slowly. He can feel his heart beating fast and his breath becoming shallow as he holds your cold body.

"we should go, you're freezing" he caress your arms to warm you up before taking off his jacked to make you wear it "but... you'll be cold" you say feeling bad, nose still runny and cheeks still wet while he tucks your arms into the sleeves oh his jacket.

Art shakes his head quietly and pulls the zip up till it covers your upper body completely "it's fine, I'm not cold" he reassures you as he brushes a piece of your hair behind your ear with a soft smile, the action makes your heart flutter, "now come on, it's too cold to be out here like this" he starts to lead you away, one hand on your lower back.

Most of the journey passes in silence, the only sounds you hear are your heels on the asphalt and the night breeze that moves the leaves of the trees.

"So, what happened? why was he mad at you?" he asks even if he's not sure if you want to talk about it.

You sniff before telling him "he said he is tired of this relationship, of me..." you choke back a sob "of me looking at other guys and..." you stop as you reach your dorm room.

His anger rises as he waits for you to end your sentence "... he mentioned you, something about the way you look at me" you finish as you look at him.

Art sighs softly and looks away from you, guilt flowing through him as he realises that he does look at you in a way that's not appropriate if you're in a relationship with someone else. He looks back at you and runs a hand through his hair "was I really that obvious?" he laughs awkwardly but you don't laugh nor smiles, you face serious.

"so he was right?" you ask him, your arms wraps around you to protect yourself and Art hates it.

"Well-" Art sighs and his expression softens as he looks at you, your body language makes his heart clench and all he wants to do is pull you close and never let go "I guess so" he sighs as he looks at you "but you don't have to return my feelings, you don't even have to say anything" he hurries to explain.

Your eyebrows frown "so you felt this way while I was in a relationship?" you ask your anger rises but you don't even know what you're mad about, you feel so confused and you feel like a monster for attacking him after he's been nothing but kind to you, but you're heartbroken and you can't think clearly.

"I'm sorry" he says, his expression pained and his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, as if he doesn't know what to do with them. Art wants to reach out and hug you but he's too scared to do so, what if it makes you even more uncomfortable? so instead he continues speaking, "I tried so hard to get over you, to move on but it didn't work" his voice cracks slightly as he thinks back over the endless days, weeks and months where he tried to deny his feelings.

"This is all your fault, Art!" he sighs, hands against his face "I'm sorry".

"please save it, I don't want to hear you right now" you interrupt him again and turn around to unlock the door of your room "Y/N wait-".

"No, Art! I thought you were my friend" you face him again.

"I am your friend! I didn't catch feelings for you on purpose" he defends himself "I mean who wouldn't be in love with you" he says, his questions clearly rhetorical but you only look at him, your head shaking in disbelief, his eyes are so desperate but still so clearly in love with you, how come you never noticed them?

Art reaches out and grabs your wrist, gently stopping you from going into your room. "Y/N please, let's talk about this" his eyes are pleading and his voice desperate as he speaks but you just stare at him silently, your expression unreadable until you just pull your hand out of his grasp "about what? about you ruining everything between me and Logan, never talk to me again" you say before slamming the door on his face.

He stands petrified for a few minutes before weakly knocking on the door to catch your attention "I know you're mad now and you don't want to see me, but when and if you'll feel ready to talk about it I'll be here" you stay silent, tears still blurring your vision as the sound of your sobs is muffled by your pillows, you know that you're overreacting and you know that you're probably more angry at yourself than you are at him but you can't seem to convince yourself to leave your room and talk to him.

"Goodnight" Art stands outside your door a few more moments, hearing you cry and silently blaming himself for being the cause of it before he finally walks away.

As you lie in your bed, your mind races with so many thoughts; Art, Logan, and your now broken relationship. The tears still stream down your face as you try to understand how and why it all went so wrong and you realize, that, in the heat of the moment, you forgot to give his jacket back, you bring the collar of it to your nose and inhale his smell.

The scent of his cologne and the fabric of his jacked feels comforting, almost as comfortable as his embrace was earlier in the night. Your mind is still racing as you try to make sense of everything that's happened, it starts to calm down when his scent envelopes your senses, making you feel safe and protected as your eyes slowly flutter closed and your tears finally dry up. You fall asleep seconds after, tiredness catching up with you.

As the days go on, the amount of guilt that Art feels continues to increase, especially since you avoid him every time he tries to catch your eyes and he never felt so weak in his life.

His tennis has never been so bad, his hits imprecise, never strong enough and he feels like smashing the racket against the ground in frustration.

As he closes the dorm door behind him, Art he runs a hand through his messy and freshly showered hair. Frustration is the only thing coursing through him. Frustration at you for ignoring him, at himself for making you mad in the first place, and at his sport for making him feel even more useless. His lets the tennis sack drop on the floor and throws himself on his bed, face down against the pillows.

At first Art's mind is completely blank as he stays in that position on his bed, trying to get rid of the frustration he feels. That calm doesn't last though. All of a sudden thoughts of you invade his mind, your face, your name... he clenches his fist tightly, the knuckles turning white as he tries to control himself but his frustrations over you ignoring him grows bigger and bigger and he groans in tiredness when he hears a knock at the door.

Art doesn't bother getting up to answer, doesn't even lifts his head "what?" He calls out, his voice strained as he keeps his face against the pillow.

"Art? its me..." you say on the other side of the door and Art remains there, face shocked and limbs suddenly heavy. He scrambles up the bed and looks around, fuck, his room is a mess: clothes scattered everywhere, bed unmade and books stacked on his desk ready to fall at any movement, he slaps his forehead and a mumbled 'fuck' leaves his lips, he should have cleaned up when he told himself to do it that same morning.

"Y-yes give me a moment!" Art quickly gathers his clothes and throws them under the bed before hastily straightening out the sheets and pushing a few pillows up against the wall. Once he's done, he looks around the room to make sure it looks presentable and opens the door with a hopeful smile "hi".

"hey... I wanted to give your jacket back" you hand him the jacket but he doesn't take it yet "oh you didn't have to, you can keep it" he offers "Art- please, take it" Art's small smile fades slightly when you insist on returning the jacket, but he nods and takes it from you "thanks" he says softly as he holds the jacket in his hands.

He studies you for a moment, you look good, despite what happened and he feels hurt by that, do you not care about what happened between you two? "you want to come in?" his thumb point behind him in his room.

You know you should decline, that you should get away from him because you're not ready for another relationship, because you know that if you enter his room you won't just talk and that it would be unfair for the both of you but your mouth moves before you can stop yourself "yeah, okay",

Art's eyes widen slightly, clearly not expecting you to say yes. He smiles again and steps aside to let you in, closing the door quietly behind you as he places the jacket on his desk chair. His heart is beating fast as he turns to look at you, he rests his back against the door as he watches you analyzing his room.

Art's room is so... his, everywhere you look you see a trait of Art; his tennis trophies neatly lined up on a shelf, his books stacked on a bookcase and on his desk, the messy blue bed sheets and the framed pictures with Patrick and his family. "how have you been doing?" he asks, his voice soft and nervous, his hands now in his pockets, he likes seeing you in his room, he could get used to this.

You force a smile "I'm fine, and you?" you ask as you turn back towards him, his smile forced too "could be better, I've been thinking about you" he admits and you laugh awkwardly, arms again crossing in front of you and his lips falls in a displeased grimace "no.. don't do that" he begs.

"Don't do what?" you ask confused and he points with his head towards your arms.

"That... I don't want you to be uncomfortable with me" 'like you were with him', he wants to add, but he doesn't want you to think of your ex while you're with him, in his room.

You hurry to uncross your arms "I'm not uncomfortable with you... I just don't know what to do" you smile sheepishly and Art does the same "I'm really sorry... about what I told you that night, it wasn't fair" you add.

Art leans his head against the door, his shoulders slouch forward as he looks at you, he rubs his face softly with one hand, feeling the exhaustion of the past days leave his shoulders "it's okay" he says softly, his expression softening as he looks at you with sincerity, "I'm just glad that you're here talking to me".

You look at him, eyebrows furrowed and mouth opened in shock "that's all? this all you got to say?" you ask and Art looks alarmed as if he is trying to understand what he did wrong this time.

He looks at you with confusion, not understanding what you mean, how could that not be enough? His expression softens slightly as he thinks about what you mean, "is there something else you want me to say?".

"YES!" you shout "you should be mad at me, what I said was horrible!" you add, voice incredulous and he can't help but let out a small chuckle.

"I'm sorry, are you mad at me cause I'm not...mad at you...?" now that you hear him say it out loud you feel stupid and your face heats up.

Art stares at you as you try to explain why you're mad, a small chuckle escaping his lips that causes you to feel even stupider. You were expecting him to be angry at you, but instead he's just standing there with an amused smile on his face. "you want me to be mad at you" he clarifies.

You nod and he shrugs "okay, then I'm mad at you" he teases you and your patience is wearing thin.

You narrow your eyes at him, your patience is quickly fading, you want to smack that stupid smirk off his pretty face but he just stands there, calm and unbothered "you think this is funny?" you finally ask, your tone clearly annoyed.

"a bit... yeah" he smiles.

"you are unbelievable" you scoff, your patience completely gone now. You walk over to him, closing the already small distance between you and look up at him defiantly and a hint of a threat. "you're not mad" you state and Art shakes his head with a small smile on his lips. "but why?" you ask, your arms crossed over your chest but he release them quickly, you really have to stop doing that.

His eyes flicks between yours, face now serious "because I love you".

Your expression softens at his words, the fire in your eyes quickly dimming as soon as the words leave his lips. His smile widens as he looks down at you, taking in your facial expressions. You're at a loss for words, how can he love you even after you yelled at him and ignored him all week? Art watches you for a moment, before reaching out and placing a hand on your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin softly.

Art notices the confusion on your face, but he understands your silence, your uncertainty "you don't have to say it back, you don't even have to answer, but you should know there is nothing you can do that will make me stop loving you".

Tears begin to form in your eyes at his words and you try to look away but Art refuses to let you turn your head, his hand still gently holding your face. You don't know what to say, you're shocked and overwhelmed and Art is just looking at you with so much love in his eyes you feel like you might melt and before you can comprehend what you're doing your lips are on his.

Art's eyes go wide at first, shocked by your action but he quickly responds by immediately kissing you back and cupping your face in his large hands. He pours all his feelings into the kiss, all the frustration, passion, love that he has been feeling. Nothing matters in that moment but the feeling of your lips on his, it's like time stops and nothing else but you matters.

He stands straighter, his body now taller at his full height and you have to tilt your head back to kiss him better.

Art deepens the kiss, his hands sliding to your hips and pulls you into him as close as physically possible. His grip on your hips is firm but gentle, his fingers digging slightly into your flesh as he keeps you in place. Your mouths move hungrily against each other, not wanting to let go, never wanting to let go.

The blond guides you till you're pressed between the wall and his body, a hand behind your head to prevent your head from hitting the wall, his body pressed tightly against yours, not leaving a single space between your bodies. The hand is now back on your cheek while the other slides down to your thigh to grab the exposed flesh there, lifting your leg to wrap it around his waist.

He rests his forehead against yours, both of your chest rising and falling rapidly as you gasp for air. His chest is pressed against yours and you can feel the rapid beat of his heart. He chuckles softly, his breath wavering slightly and you can feel every breath he takes on your skin. His grip on you is still strong and he's not showing signs of letting you go anytime soon so you use the opportunity to stare at him.

"not that I don't want this, but I think we should take it slower" Art says smiling.

You nod in agreement, taking a breath before speaking up "yeah.. yeah you're right" you say softly as you reach up to fix his hair that got messed up by your fingers. Art chuckles softly, his hand leaves your thigh and joins the other on your hips after your fixing your skirt back down, he stares at you, his eyes full of affection and contentment. "I'm glad you came by though" he finally says after a few moments of silence, "I missed my jacket".

Art laughs along with you, his smile widening at the sound of your voice and he finally lets go of your body. You regret the loss of his touch immediately but that's quickly replaced by the warmth that spreads through your body as you notice him taking in your body with his gaze, tracing over your form gently, as if he's trying to memorise every inch of you, his fingers go through your hair to comb it gently.

"I should go" you say reluctant but still, you don't move from your place and Art's expression falls slightly at your words, he wants you to stay but he knows that you're probably right. His hands slide from your body, fingers tracing along your skin but stops at your hips. He leans down to kiss you one more time before he takes a step back to give you space to walk towards the door "just don't disappear again, please" he says softly before smiling at you, his expression hopeful.

"I promise, I know it doesn't look like it by what what we just did" you chuckle turning back to him "but I want to take this slow, to not ruin this".

You can tell that Art is surprised when you pull him close to you again but he doesn't hesitate to intertwines your fingers "yeah, slow is good" he whispers before kissing the top of your head "I don't want to ruin this either".

You look up at him and smile before standing on your tiptoes to kiss him on the lips softly "thank you" you say and he feels like he's in heaven when your lips touch again "I'll take you back to your dorm" he goes to grab his keys but you shake your head.

"No there is no need, stay here, rest and take your clothes out from under your bed".

Art's face goes red as you mention his messy room and his attempt to hide it when you arrived. He rubs the back of his neck and laughs sheepishly, "yeah.. that didn't work as well as I thought it would" he admits as his eyes go to the bed where the clothes are still badly hidden under it "or... we could go eat together something for dinner, as friends, my treat" he offers.

You smile at Art's words, his proposition to eat dinner together sounds great to you and your stomach grumbles at the thought of food "your treat?" you say and smirk jokingly at him.

"Don't let it get in your head, you're just a friend to me" he jokes as he opens the door for you.

You playfully roll your eyes "right, just a friend" you say with mock seriousness before walking through the door, Art on your heels as you both head towards the cafeteria, hands brushing together for the whole journey.

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

Do not copy or repost.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson #challengers #challengers fic

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edenesth · 2 days

Text

TWTHH Spinoff: Written in the Stars [1]

Pairing: military strategist!Mingi x royal physician!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 5.5k

Summary: Mingi had spent countless years searching for the angel who saved his life when he was on the verge of death. He believed god was on his side when she finally reappeared before him, but she was now so near yet so far, so unobtainable. No longer just a young medical trainee, she had become an esteemed royal physician—a woman working within the palace walls. And what did that mean? It meant she now belonged to His Majesty.

A/N: As stated in the title, this is a spinoff. If you have yet to check out the main story, it's probably better to read that before starting this.

Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist | Part 2

"Hey, hey, hey, look at me. Just focus on me, okay? You can hear me, right?" a sweet, gentle female voice called out, followed by a soft touch on his cheek. Mingi forced his eyes open in disbelief—how could a woman be in the war zone? As he cracked his eyes open, he was breathless at the sight of a beautiful angel before him.

You smiled in relief, cupping his face delicately. "That's right. Everything will be okay. I'll make all the pain go away. Just stay with me, soldier. Can you do that?"

He nodded weakly, his once weakening heartbeat now pounding in his chest. "A-anything for you, my lady…"

"Quite a flirt, aren't you?" you teased, reassured that he was still well enough to be playful. He was the most critical soldier on site, and you had been immediately assigned to him as soon as you and a team of medical experts arrived to treat the injured soldiers.

Your breath had hitched when you first saw him, your heart nearly stopping at the sight of the blood caking his body, a huge gash on his abdomen, and countless other cuts. Without wasting a second, you settled beside him and did everything you could to keep him conscious. He was losing too much blood, and if he remained unconscious any longer, you might lose him. For now, you had no choice but to multitask by treating him and keeping him distracted.

Anything to keep him awake.

"N-no, only for you…" he croaked, and you breathed out a laugh, your hands busy cleaning his wounds, unfazed by his bare upper body. Sure, he had a great physique, but so did most soldiers around here and many other patients you'd treated. His clichéd and sweet words were also nothing new to you. Patients delirious from blood loss often behaved this way.

He held onto your hand when the stinging pain became a little too unbearable as you cleaned the open wound that was still bleeding profusely. You placed your other hand gently over his, stroking his skin in an attempt to comfort him. "It's okay, soldier. I know it hurts, but it will be alright."

With care, you slowly moved his hand back to his side before continuing. You could feel his awed gaze fixed on you, but you didn't mind; it meant he was conscious, and that was all you needed. Through a sharp wince, he choked out, "W-when this is all over, will you please allow me the h-honour of courting you, my lady?"

You raised an eyebrow in amusement, shaking your head in disbelief at his bold question. No matter how flirty other soldiers could get, none had ever dared to ask to court you. This was a first. With a shrug, you decided perhaps a little white lie wouldn't hurt too much.

"We'll talk about it when you're fully recovered. How's that sound?"

Smiling weakly through his pain, he nodded. "Sounds wonderful."

You continued tending to his wounds, your touch gentle but efficient. Despite the gravity of his injuries, he kept his eyes on you, drawing strength from your presence. The battlefield around you faded as you focused entirely on keeping him alive.

Minutes felt like hours, but finally, the worst was over. You had cleaned and dressed his wounds, stopping the bleeding and stabilising him for now. You leaned back, wiping the sweat from your brow, and gave him a reassuring smile.

"There, all done. You just need to rest and let your body heal."

He nodded, exhaustion evident in his eyes, but there was a glimmer of hope as well. "Thank you… for everything."

You patted his shoulder. "Just doing my job. Now, get some rest."

As you stood up to move on to the next patient, you couldn't help but glance back at him. His eyes were closed, his breathing steady. Shaking your head, you reminded yourself that it was just his delirium speaking. No man would want to court a lady simply after taking a single glance at her. He didn't know you well enough to feel that way. He would probably forget all about you by the time he was healed.

The same way you would forget him.

Only you were completely wrong about that. The first thing Mingi thought about when he regained consciousness was you. He lay in bed for weeks afterwards, with different physicians checking on him regularly, but never the angel who had saved him from moving on to the afterlife, the one who had comforted him during the most excruciating pain he had ever experienced.

When he tried to ask for you, he realised he didn't even know your name or designation. He had no information about you other than that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen—a description not very helpful for others to identify you.

Just like the wind, you were gone.

He never saw you again, but that was when his search for you began. He remained hopeful even as years passed. He didn't know why he was so fixated on one woman he knew nothing about. But you weren't just another woman. You were the one who saved his life, the first one he had the courage to ask out, and most importantly, you hadn't said no to him yet.

So that had to mean something. He must have a chance; he just needed to find you.

Even when all his friends, family, colleagues, and nearly the whole world called him a fool for being so hung up on someone he had only met once, someone he might never see again, he refused to give up. As a soldier and now a military strategist, he rarely interacted with women, and even when he did, they were often intimidated by his appearance and put off by his dangerous job. They rarely saw him as a marriage prospect.

That was why he couldn't move on from you. Your delicate treatment all those years ago had left an indelible mark on his heart. He could still remember every single touch of your fingertips on his skin, and he longed to have you close again.

His colleagues would laugh, calling him a fool. "You're chasing a ghost," they said. "She might not even be real." But Mingi knew better. He had felt your touch, heard your voice, and seen the kindness in your eyes. You were real, and you were out there somewhere. You had to be.

He devoted every spare moment to finding you, combing through records and speaking to anyone who might have known the medical trainees from that time. His friends often found him lost in thought, staring out into the distance, clearly fixated on a memory that had become his driving force, always looking for 'his one.'

When he finally found you again, he didn't expect it to be again in the war zone, where the conflict with Ruhon had just ended and the injured General Park was absent. He remembered hearing your delicate voice stand out amidst the sea of men blocking your way as you firmly tried to push through, unfazed by the soldiers surrounding you—a quality he greatly admired.

"Forgive us, ma'am. Women are not permitted here," one of the soldiers explained. Mingi recalled pushing through the crowd to hear your response: "Yes, I know that, but you don't understand. I'm here on His Majesty's orders. We received word that General Park has been poisoned, and I've been sent specifically to treat him."

I finally found you, my one.

At that moment, seeing you again was all that mattered. You were all he could see and hear. He was so fixated on the fact that you were right in front of him that he hadn't yet processed the implication of you being a royal female physician.

None of that was important as he cleared his throat, his deep voice booming across the space. "Let her through."

"But sir, the general isn't even here—"

The military strategist sighed. "I said let the lady through, soldier."

"Y-yes, sir."

He basked in your appreciative smile as the crowd finally dispersed, allowing you space to breathe and enter the camp after what felt like an eternity of being stranded outside. You had travelled far and long, and the last thing you needed was to be asked to return to the palace without a proper explanation. You had been sent to treat the poisoned military general—how could you explain to His Majesty if you returned empty-handed?

Following the tall man who politely introduced himself as General Officer Song, you immediately knew who he was. He was a renowned military strategist, the only one competent enough to be acknowledged by the great General Park Seonghwa.

"Thank you for intervening," you said, matching his brisk pace.

"Not a problem. It's an honour to have you here," he replied, his voice steady and respectful. "Royal Physician...?"

Your eyes widened in realisation at your lack of self-introduction. "Oh, how rude of me for not introducing myself. Please address me as Royal Physician Ahn."

"It's nice to meet you, Royal Physician Ahn," he said, pausing for a moment to take in your appearance, hoping you might recognise him. His heart sank slightly when you merely returned his smile courteously. "Pleasure to meet you as well, General Officer Song. Now, if you'll just take me to the general."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "He's not here, my lady."

You halted your steps. "Wh-what do you mean he's not here?"

He gestured to the main tent, beckoning for you to follow. "Please, I'll explain everything."

As you walked side by side, you couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity and comfort around him, though you couldn't quite place it. Little did you know, the man beside you had been searching for you since that fateful day, driven by a memory that had never faded. And now, with you by his side, he was determined not to let you slip away again.

Except that might not be his choice to make.

"Don't you ever regret becoming a woman of the palace, unnie? I mean, look at that—it must be nice to be in love," Subin, your colleague and childhood friend, said as she nudged your shoulder, nodding toward the second prince and his wife. They were the only royal couple so far to marry out of love and not duty, and the two were taking a stroll in the nearby cherry blossom garden.

You shook your head with a small smile. "We've been over this, Subin-ah. Love is a luxury for people like us. Besides, we now belong to His Majesty, and nothing can change that. Watch your words and don't let anyone catch you saying things like that."

As much as you agreed with her and thought it would be nice to have someone to love and be loved in return, you knew there was no point in dwelling on the impossible. Any chance of that was taken away from the moment you both decided to pursue careers as royal physicians. Not that you had much of a choice—both you and Subin were orphaned at a young age, the only survivors of a plague-ridden village that had claimed your families.

Left with nothing, you had begged the exhausted medical practitioners, who were struggling to treat as many infected people as they could at that time, to take you both in, promising to work in any way you could as payment. Feeling sympathetic and touched by your determination, they agreed, and you grew up as apprentices to these struggling physicians, promising to repay them when you were older. And you did, by signing up to enter the palace. It was the most successful path for any medical practitioner, and with your income, the dingy clinic run by your saviours could finally survive steadily.

However, this success came at a price.

Palace rules dictated that any woman working within belonged to the King. In other words, you were his property. Once you held an official position within the palace, you could never marry or have children unless it was with His Majesty himself, if one was lucky—or unlucky enough—depending on how one viewed it. Most palace women would work until their death and be buried within the palace walls. Only in rare and special cases were some granted the privilege to retire and leave the palace to live out the rest of their lives as they pleased.

You sighed, looking at your friend. "As much as I understand what you're saying, we both know there's no point in dreaming about it. Our path was set the moment we chose this life. Love, marriage, children—those things are not for us."

She nodded slowly, her eyes reflecting a mixture of resignation and understanding. "I know, unnie. It's just... sometimes I wonder what it would be like, you know? To have someone who cares about you, who is willing to take care of you, who loves you."

You placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We have each other, and we have our duty. That's enough. It has to be."

She smiled weakly. "You're right. We made a choice, and we've helped so many people because of it. We should be proud of that."

"We should," you agreed, squeezing her shoulder gently. "And who knows? Maybe one day, we'll be among the lucky few who get to retire and live out the rest of our lives outside these walls."

Subin chuckled softly, finally moving and continuing the trek back to the royal medical hall. "A girl can dream, right?"

"Indeed, my dearest," you said, returning her smile. "A girl can dream."

Meanwhile, Mingi couldn't stop replaying the events of that day—finally seeing you again. He had sat you down and reassured you that the war with Ruhon had ended and that the general was already home, being taken care of by his own family doctor. Once you calmed down, relieved, Mingi began asking you multiple questions under the guise of courtesy, secretly hoping to see if you recognised him.

"How long have you been a royal physician, my lady?" he asked, his eyes keenly observing your reaction.

"Quite a few years now," you replied, sinking into your seat and relaxing at the pleasant news about the nerve-wracking war and the general's safety. "It's been a challenging but rewarding journey."

He nodded and smiled warmly, happy to ease your worries. "I can imagine. You must have treated many patients over the years."

"Yes, many," you said, your gaze distant for a moment as you recalled the countless faces. "Each one leaves a mark, in a way."

His heart sank slightly at your words, realising that he was likely just one of those many faces. "You must have seen some incredible recoveries," he continued, trying to keep the conversation going.

"Indeed, I have," you agreed, your expression softening. "It's always a blessing to see someone recover, to know you've made a difference."

His disappointment was palpable, though he masked it well. You didn't show any signs of recognising him, but he figured it must be because he was only one of many patients you had treated. But you were here now, and that was all that mattered to him. He resolved to work hard to help you remember him, to gain your trust, and most importantly, to earn your affection.

"You know," he said, his tone light and conversational, "it's rare to find someone as dedicated as you. We're lucky to have you."

You smiled modestly. "Thank you, General Officer Song. It's an honour to serve His Majesty and the people."

He leaned in slightly, his eyes sincere. "The world certainly needs more people like you, Royal Physician Ahn."

"I'm glad you think so," you said, feeling a surprising sense of comfort in his presence.

Mingi couldn't wipe the smile off his face as he recalled how you had eventually allowed him to escort you from the war site back to the palace. You hadn't rejected him, and that must mean something. It must mean he had a chance. It must—

"Look, hyung, I know you're happy you finally found her, but you do realise she's off-limits, right?" said Junghoon, his apprentice and close friend. The younger man shook his head at the military strategist's dreamy expression that had persisted on his face ever since reuniting with his dream girl.

Mingi's smile faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered. "Off-limits...?"

His apprentice raised an eyebrow. "She's a royal physician. You know the rules as well as I do. Don't tell me you forgot palace women are the King's property. They're not allowed to marry or have relationships outside of what His Majesty permits."

Mingi's expression turned more serious, though the light in his eyes didn't diminish. "I know the rules, Junghoon-ah. But I also know that nothing is truly impossible. Exceptions have been made before."

Junghoon sighed, clearly concerned. "You're playing a dangerous game, hyung. I just don't want to see you get hurt."

The military strategist nodded, appreciating his friend's worry. "I understand your concern. But she means more to me than just a fleeting interest. I've been looking for her ever since that day, and now that I've found her, I can't just let her go again."

Junghoon studied his mentor's determined expression for a moment before nodding slowly. "If you say so. Just be careful. You know the palace can be a ruthless place."

Mingi smiled again, more determined than ever. "I will, Junghoon-ah. Thanks for looking out for me, my friend."

The younger man patted him on the shoulder. "Always, hyung. Always."

Officer Song's smile weakened as soon as his apprentice left. Truth be told, the realisation that you were now a royal physician weighed heavily on him. He understood exactly what that meant. Under the reign of any unreasonable king, Mingi would never have dared to continue his pursuit. But he knew His Majesty was one of the kindest rulers Joseon had ever seen. While he wasn't exactly confident that things would go his way, he would be damned if he gave up without giving it his all first.

The reality of you being a woman of the palace was disheartening, but it didn't deter his determination to fight for you. He knew it was foolish, but that was the thing about love—it made people do stupid things. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, lost in thoughts of you.

His mind wandered back to the moment he first saw you again, the way you had smiled at him, the relief in your eyes when he reassured you. Those memories fueled his resolve. He had spent years searching for you, and now that he had found you, he couldn't let palace rules stand in his way.

As he sat there, the light from the setting sun casting long shadows in his room, he made a silent vow to himself. He would approach His Majesty, present his case with honesty and respect, and hope for the best. The King's kindness gave him a sliver of hope, and he clung to it with all his might.

Mingi knew the risks, knew the odds were against him, but he also knew that love was worth fighting for. He took a deep breath, his determination solidifying into a plan. No matter how impossible it seemed, he was ready to do whatever it took to be with you.

But the challenges were proving more difficult than he had imagined.

"General Officer Song, are you hearing yourself? Do you realise what you are asking of me? What would the people of this nation think if I were to give in to the whims of my men so easily? Rules are established for a reason," His Majesty said strictly.

Mingi lowered his head, sinking to his knees and bowing deeply to express his sincerity. He knew he could have gone to Seonghwa about this, and the general, being the King's favourite, would have easily helped him. But the military strategist didn't want to rely on or exploit his friend's connection. This was his love story, and it was something he needed to accomplish on his own.

He tried to keep his voice steady as he continued speaking. "I know this must be an incredibly outrageous request, Your Majesty. I wouldn't have taken the risk to come here and ask this if my feelings for Royal Physician Ahn were not genuine. I implore you, my King, I am serious about my intentions to court her."

The elderly ruler sighed, leaning back on his throne and rubbing his forehead. "Officer Song, if you think you are the first to come to me with such a request, I assure you, you are not. I'm aware I am considered one of the most benevolent rulers of Joseon, but my kindness is not to be taken advantage of."

Mingi's eyes widened, and he quickly shook his head. "No, Your Majesty! I would never—"

The King raised a hand to stop him. "Let me finish, Officer Song. I know you believe you are in love, but many others have thought the same. I have granted opportunities to pursue what they call love, only for them to turn out to be mistakes. You are young, and you will meet more women who are available and more well-suited for you. Don't let your temporary feelings misguide your actions. Trust me, you will move on and forget about her before you know it."

However, the elderly ruler was unsurprised to see his words only igniting greater determination in the young man's eyes. Mingi parted his lips, prepared to protest and prove His Majesty wrong, but the elderly man waved him off. "Stubborn as always. Fine, if you are so determined to pursue this, I will allow you the opportunity to realise I am correct. Love is a two-way street and cannot flourish with only one side invested. Go ahead and do your best then. Let's see if Royal Physician Ahn will even reciprocate your feelings. She is one of my most dedicated staff members; we'll see if you can sway her resolve."

Although the King's words were intended to discourage him, Mingi was relieved it wasn't a flat-out rejection. This meant he still had hope, a chance to win your heart and make you his. Bowing deeply, he exclaimed, "Your grace is immeasurable, Your Majesty! I wish you ten thousand years of life and reign!"

In the days that followed his conversation with His Majesty, the military strategist became consumed with thoughts of getting closer to you without appearing too forward. Even during his daily training, his mind wandered, preoccupied with strategies for approaching you subtly. So, when a blunt practice sword collided with his arm, he let out a yelp of pain, jolting back to reality. Though the sword was dull, it still left a small wound and a bruise that was sure to darken over time from the impact.

Junghoon cursed and dropped his weapon, rushing to his mentor's side. "Why didn't you dodge?! You're such an idiot sometimes!"

Mingi winced, cradling his arm. "I was just... thinking of ways to approach her subtly."

Junghoon raised a sceptical eyebrow, shaking his head lightly. "Well, here's the perfect opportunity. You're injured, so go to the medical hall to be treated by her."

"Oh, that's an amazing idea!"

"Yeah, it's not exactly rocket science—"

"You're brilliant, Junghoon-ah! Thanks, dinner's on me!" Mingi exclaimed excitedly, dashing off towards the royal medical hall.

The younger man shrugged, watching his mentor run off with an amused grin. "Huh, I guess I am a genius."

Mingi struggled to calm his racing heart, his mind reeling with all sorts of scenarios that could unfold. He thought about what to say to start a conversation, to get to know you better, to make you remember him—

"Whoa there, watch your step!"

His breath hitched as you appeared right before him, your arms reaching out to steady him by the shoulders. He couldn’t utter a word from the shock and embarrassment. Meanwhile, you were focused on the area of his arm he was clutching, noticing the cloth slowly turning red from the blood seeping through. Your eyes widened.

"Oh my gosh, you're bleeding! Come inside, quickly!" you exclaimed.

The military strategist sighed in relief, realising you were too preoccupied with his injury to notice how foolish he felt. He couldn't take his eyes off you, his mouth hanging open like a fish out of water, suddenly forgetting how to speak.

Pull yourself together, you idiot!

All his plans for starting a conversation flew out the window as he fought to maintain his composure throughout his visit. Though he had shared conversations with you while escorting you back to the palace from the war zone, he hadn't been this close to you in a long time. The last time was during your first meeting, and he had been too numb from blood loss to properly register your touch. Now, he was acutely aware of your proximity as he sat on one of the many beds in the hall, with you settled by his side, checking the tray before you and ensuring you had everything you needed.

"Now, it would be great if you could just lift your arm a little," you murmured.

He nodded and complied, too afraid that his voice would tremble like a nervous schoolboy if he spoke. Carefully, you rolled his sleeve up to his shoulder and assessed the small wound already surrounded by a darkening bruise, your touch gentle.

"Don't worry, Officer Song. I'll make sure this doesn't leave a scar," you said reassuringly.

He smiled shyly, nodding appreciatively. If only you knew what your presence was doing to him and his poor little heart. The warmth of your hands on his skin and the soothing tone of your voice made his pulse quicken. He struggled to think of something to say, something that wouldn't reveal just how flustered he felt.

As you cleaned the wound and applied a salve, his thoughts raced. He wanted to find the right words, something that would spark a meaningful conversation. But the words seemed to stick in his throat whenever he opened his mouth. He watched you work, mesmerised by your concentration and the care you put into treating him.

"Thank you, Royal Physician Ahn," he finally managed to say, his voice steady but soft. "For everything."

You looked up and smiled warmly. "It's my duty, Officer Song. But you're welcome."

That smile, he thought, was worth all the awkwardness and nervousness he felt. It gave him hope and determination. He wasn't going to give up. Not now, not ever.

Determined to make up for his failed attempt to talk to you, Mingi returned to the medical hall nearly every day for the next week, each time presenting a minor cut or bruise. He knew he wasn't being very subtle, but it didn't matter. He needed you to understand his heart before seeing if you could feel the same, if he stood any chance at all. However, he slowly realised he was getting nowhere if he couldn't openly express his interest and sincerity in courting you.

Sensing his struggles, Royal Secretary Choi could no longer sit by and watch his friend flounder. Truthfully, San had learned about the military strategist's pursuit of one of the palace's most recognised female physicians from His Majesty himself, who had expressed his wish for Mingi to give up. But the royal secretary, being a man in love himself, understood the taller man's feelings better than anyone.

"You know, you can't keep going back to the medical hall, pretending to be sick or injured forever," San said, approaching and sitting down beside Mingi in one of the pavilions in the cherry blossom garden.

Officer Song's head shot up to see his friend before pressing his face into his palms. "How else can I approach her, San? There's only so much I can do. She's a palace woman, and I can't possibly make my intentions clear without His Majesty's permission."

San sighed and placed a hand on Mingi's shoulder. "Actually… you might have his permission, but you didn't hear it from me." The taller man's eyes widened, prompting his friend to elaborate.

The royal secretary continued, "His Majesty has a soft heart, as you know. While he discouraged you, deep down, he just doesn't want you to get hurt. He secretly hopes it all goes your way but wouldn't admit it. Listen, there's a banquet happening soon to celebrate our unity with Ruhon. Perhaps you could ask her to attend with you."

Mingi straightened up, eyes shining with hope. "I can do that...?"

San nodded slowly. "Technically, important figures like you and Royal Physician Ahn are encouraged to attend and show support. There's nothing wrong with a little networking, right? Besides, His Majesty is already aware of your intentions. If she agrees to go with you, this would be a huge step in your pursuit. Wouldn't you agree?"

Hell yeah, I do.

"You wanna bet he's gonna show up again soon?" Subin teased, smirking as you rolled your eyes and playfully smacked her on the arm. "Don't jinx it, just shut up and go on your lunch break already."

It had been a particularly hectic day with the arrival of envoys from Ruhon for the upcoming celebration. The influx of visitors sought remedies for their seasickness after enduring the boat journey, keeping all the royal physicians busy stocking up on medicine and treating the sudden rush of patients suffering from nausea. The last thing you needed was for Song Mingi to appear with another one of his tiny scratches, requesting attention.

You were silently hoping he wouldn't show up today, relishing in a moment of tranquillity as the lunch hour approached and most of the patients had been taken care of. The first batch of physicians, including Subin, would go to lunch while you and the second batch would stay back until they returned.

But alas, the peace was short-lived.

"Ooh, guess who's here again," your colleague remarked, nodding toward the entrance of the royal medical hall where a certain tall, handsome military strategist strode in for what felt like the thousandth time this week. You sighed, refusing to look up from your book. "Please tell me it's not him."

She gulped, watching him approach. "Hate to break it to you, but it is your not-so-secret admirer, General Officer Song."

"Good afternoon, ladies. I, uh… I'm here today because—" his familiar deep voice rang out as he paused at a respectful distance.

Clearing your throat, you finally closed your book and turned to face him with a courteous smile, finishing his sentence for him, "Good afternoon to you too, Officer Song. Let me guess, you're here because you got hurt during training again?"

Instead of the usual sheepish nod, he shook his head and nervously fiddled with his fingers. "No, actually… I came to ask if… i-if you would like to accompany me to the royal banquet celebrating Joseon's unity with Ruhon tonight, Royal Physician Ahn?"

You froze at his question, and your colleague mirrored your reaction. The two of you exchanged bewildered glances, trying to process the fact that this fool was openly pursuing you, a woman working in the palace, someone who belonged to the King.

Does he realise what he's doing?

« Preview of Part 2 »

"Is that her? Your 'one'?" the general teased, nudging Mingi on the shoulder as they observed the royal physician conversing with Lady Park, who was now about five months into her pregnancy.

The military strategist blushed furiously, nodding. "Yes, that's her."

"Has His Majesty granted you permission to court her?" Seonghwa asked, and the younger man winced, shaking his head. "No, he hasn't. In fact, he told me to give up on my pursuit, convinced me it was merely infatuation and that it would eventually pass."

General Park frowned. "That can't be right. You've been searching for her for years. How is it that you've found your soulmate years before me yet still haven't won her over, while I'm already expecting a child with mine, Mingi-yah? Do you want me to speak with the King? I'm sure he'll understand."

Officer Song's response caught Seonghwa off guard as he shook his head. "It's okay, hyung-nim. I appreciate your offer to speak to His Majesty, but I want to handle this on my own. I don't want her to feel pressured to accept me. I want her to see my sincerity and decide for herself if she shares the same feelings. Then, I can show the King that this is worth pursuing, that she's worth it."

"Are you sure, my friend?"

"I've never been more sure of anything."

You're probably shocked I'm posting on a Monday HAHA but it's another public holiday in Malaysia, yippee!

ASDFGHJKL 1.9k+ followers?! I'm not dreaming now, am I?😭 I love y'all so much, istg! Sorry, this first part took so long but I've been real busy the past week. I know a lot of y'all have been waiting for this, I sincerely hope this was decent!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/10):

@itstheghostofmypast @huachengsbestie01 @minghaoslatina @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr |

@cheolliehugs @the-kpop-simp @writingwieny @stayatinykatsy @skzline |

@green-agent @stayinhellevator @vampzity @tinyteezer @evidive |

@vantediary @superbbananananana @kimyeolchan @chocolate-scoups @decadentstrangernacho |

@vic0921 @marievllr-abg @sunnyhokyu @seungmin-in-thebuilding @heyitsmetonid |

@sansaurora9904 @darkestacademiamindsx12-blog @myblovedjyh @professormingisglasses @newworldwritings |

@chicken-fifi @thunderous-wolf @shythinggiver @madnpan @yandere-stories |

@anxiousskylar @frobin4ever @starssongs98 @dollce-exe @jan-l |

@lovelyred2 @haven-cove @watermelon2319 @dreamingofyeo @akimkim |

@scuzmunkie @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @borntoshineateez @st4rhwa |

@ddaeing @tropicalsstuff @bts-army380 @skteezcursed @beauty143 |

@naps-over-degree @brown88 @sis-101 @lemon-sage17 @jcalicocatj

#edenesth #the way to his heart #written in the stars #twthh spinoff #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #song mingi #ateez mingi #historical au #joseon era #mingi x reader #mingi x you #ateez fic

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youwerethedefeated · 2 days

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Friendly reminder that, whenever Kageyama or Hinata see the other running, their knee-jerk reaction is to immediately start racing each other.

Now imagine this—they're already dating, and Kageyama goes to pick up Hinata at the airport or something. They haven't seen each other in a while, missed you lots, etc etc. So the moment Kageyama spots Hinata, it's kinda like those cliche scenes in movies when a couple gets reunited: running towards each other in slow motion, dramatic background music, all that shebang.

Except Kageyama isn't moving in slow motion at all. So Hinata sees him approaching at full speed, with a look on his face that's sort of terrifying. Instinct takes over, and suddenly the only thought in Hinata's mind is RACE!

So he just abandons his luggage and darts in the opposite direction.

Kageyama chases after him, screaming, "Why are you running away, dumbass?!" Without slowing down, Hinata shouts over his shoulder, "I won't let you win!"

They both get tackled by security. Someday, this will be a funny story to tell their friends, but right now no one is laughing.

#kagehina #hinata shouyou #kageyama tobio #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons #seriously they share exactly one braincell

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slutforsturns · 3 days

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𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖙𝖍 𝖔𝖗 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖊 - 𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖙 𝖘𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖔

warnings: giving head, unprotected p in v, creampie, dirty talk, pet names (ma, baby, etc), whimper audio mentions, very light (literally like one sentence) masturbation, aftercare !!!

a/n: my first story on here 🤭 pls send requests I promise I'll do them! also tell me if u like the story!

word count: 2.4k

mini playlist: dangerous woman by ariana grande, often by the weekend, shut up and listen by nicholas bonnin, bathroom by montell fish >3333

enjoy!

You were at a party with your friends, a girl hangout.

You were all drunk and had decided to play truth or dare.

Unfortunately, it was your turn.

“Truth or dare,” One of your friends asked you.

If you were your usual sober self, you would have said truth.

But right now, you were dangerously drunk.

“Dare” You say, giggling as you wait for your friends to tell you what you have to do.

Your friend looks at the group, whispering something before she turns to you.

“Your dare is to text the third man in your contacts and ask him for a whimper audio.” She says, laughing as she watches your eyes widen slightly.

But instead of being a baby and not doing it, you open your phone and go to your contacts.

You gasp when you see who it is. Matt Sturniolo, your enemy.

You had texted him a few days ago about something, probably to get on his nerves, but now, you were going to have to text him and request a whimper audio.

Oh God.

Your friends watched eagerly as you typed out ‘send me a whimper audio’. You knew your friends were waiting on you to send it so you decided against clarifying it was for a dare, for right now, at least.

Your fingers shook as you hit send, immediately regretting your decision, even in your drunken state.

Your friends squealed as it sent and almost immediately, you saw that he read it.

You hit yourself in the head but just sigh and turn your phone off, continuing the game.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You arrived home an hour later, by Uber, and crashed into your apartment, making a beeline for your couch.

Your head was pounding and you collapsed on the couch, breathing deeply. Your head felt like it was spinning on a merry-go-round and you could see fucking sounds and hear colors.

You were close to passing out when a ding went off. You fumbled for your phone that was still in your pocket and opened it. It was a message from Matt.

No, not a message. A voice note. It was just over two minutes long. You groan and think about the whimper audio dare. You were sure it was just two minutes of Matt asking what the hell was wrong with you and why the hell you would ask that.

Even though you know it’s a bad idea, you still click on it.

Immediately, you hear a soft moan. And then another one, and another one.

And you think, just for a moment, in the background you can hear something else.

Is that his-? You ask yourself. You shake your head and continue to listen.

A loud moan erupts from your phone and heat shoots right to your core. You debate throwing your phone but instead take a deep breath.

At about a minute in, you hear his voice.

“F-fuck, Y/N, I’m about to cum thinking about you.” You hear Matt say softly. His voice sounds far off as his heavy breathing comes through your speakers.

“This is what you do to me, Y/N.” You hear him whisper again. “I’m so fucking glad you asked for this, was wondering when you’d get my hints.” He laughed slightly, a groan following right after.

You could hear his breathing speed up as his movements sounded faster through the phone.

And you couldn’t help the way his words made you feel. Horny. Very fucking horny.

You couldn’t control yourself as you started the voice note over and your hand sneakily made its way under your sweats and into your panties.

You began to circle your clit and let out a moan that was almost in sync with Matt’s. “Oh fuck, “ You whimpered quickly before removing your hand from yourself.

You quickly paused the audio and texted Matt.

‘Please come over, I need you so bad.’

You hit send and waited eagerly for a response. You got one nearly immediately.

‘Omw ma’

—

Ten minutes later, you hear a knock on your door.

All you’ve been doing is listening to the audio. Over and over and over.

And trying not to touch yourself has been torture. But you knew it would be worth it when you heard those sounds in real life.

You rush to the door and fling it open, mouth dropping when you see Matt.

Black tank top, gray sweats hanging so low you could see the top of his Calvin Klein underwear, silver chain on his neck. You could almost drop to your knees right then and there.

He smirked at you before sliding past you. You shut the door quickly and spun around to face him.

“Send a whimper audio, hm?” He asked, slowly moving towards you. “What in the world made you ask me that? Because I know it wasn’t of your own doing, baby.” He pointed out, getting nearer.

You began to back away from him until your back hit the front door. “It was a dare.” You respond, gulping.

He smiled down at you as he stood above you. “Was it now?”

You nod quickly and avert your eyes from his face but he puts his fingers under your chin and turns your face back to his.

“Well, you got your whimper audio. So what do I get?” He asked you, quietly, dipping down to your ear. “Hm?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” You admit. Matt just chuckles and starts peppering soft kisses along your jaw.

“But Ma, I think you do. It’s not fair that I give you something and I get nothing in return. That’s not right, now is it?” He asks, licking a stripe up your neck.

You shake your head dumbly, relishing in the feeling of Matt’s mouth on your neck. “Mhm no that’s not f-fair.” You say, slurring your words.

“Yeah, so what do you think we should do about that, hm?”

You just so happened to glance down between the two of you. You could see Matt’s hardened bulge in his sweats and dropped down to your knees.

You gazed up at him and began to slowly draw his sweats down. You said nothing, just gazed at him through your long eyelashes. You could see his cock in his underwear, straining against the fabric, begging to be let free.

“May I?” You asked him, your voice dripping with honey. He simply nodded quickly and you wasted no time pulling his underwear down and running your small hand along his length,

Matt watched intently as you carefully licked a stripe up the underside of his length, your tongue running along a vein that had him throwing his head back, holding back a groan.

You wrapped your lips around his tip, tasting his salty-sweet precum on your tongue. Matt let out a low groan, and feverishly watched as you took him in your mouth, inch by painstaking inch.

“Fuck princess, please hurry up.” He almost begged, head falling forward. You smiled around his cock but took him until his tip touched the back of your throat.

“Mhm yeah that’s it” He groaned, various curses spilling out of his mouth as you ran your tongue along the underside of his length. But Matt was still impatient, growing frustrated at your slow pace.

He didn’t want to but his pleasure was so blinding that he could hardly think about the repercussions right now. He took your head and moved it back and forth on his dick.

You let out a squeal around his dick but quickened your pace. Tears pricked at the edge of your vision and you gagged around Matt but it didn’t stop his hand from continuing to force his dick farther and farther down your throat.

“Fuck baby, you’re absolutely loving my dick in your mouth, hm?” He forced out through gritted teeth.

His words shot straight to your core and you could feel the wetness down there. You wanted to hurry up so he could go ahead and just fuck you.

You began to play with his balls in your hand, earning a moan to erupt from Matt’s mouth along with another strained “Fuck Ma.”

You could feel his balls tighten and knew he was coming close to his finish. And you wanted to help him.

You tried to fit his whole length in your mouth and managed to get most of it in. Then you began running your tongue all along his shaft.

“Baby, you’re gonna swallow all my cum, okay?” He instructed.

Spit came out of the sides of your mouth and your vision began to blur from your lack of air but you had to do this for Matt. It was only fair.

He fucked your face roughly before finally letting out a loud groan and shooting thick spurts of cum straight down your throat.

He pulled out quickly and you gulped down air, panting as tears forced themself out the edges of your eyes.

You looked up at Matt who had regained his breath and gave him a small smile before wiping your mouth.

Matt could feel himself hardening again from the sight beneath him. He needed to be inside of you, now.

He took you under your arms from where you sat on the floor and hoisted you up and over his shoulder. You let out a squeak but don’t try anything as he carries you to your bedroom.

He takes you off of his shoulder and places you on the bed before immediately shedding his tank, throwing it somewhere on the floor.

You took yours off quickly too, not wanting to waste any time. You wanted this, you needed this.

Matt came over to you on the bed and started kissing you, not gently but roughly. His lips were urgent and yours fought back, a mess of teeth and tongue.

His hands wandered to your bra and started unclipping it, throwing it when he finally got it off. He broke the kiss and leaned back to look at you, your breasts on display for him.

“So fucking beautiful Ma” Matt said.

You let out a soft whimper at his words, your nipples hardening to the point of pain.

“You helped me so I help you, yeah? How about we get these leggings off?” He asked you and you nodded quickly, maybe too quickly but you were too blinded by your need for pleasure, especially if it came from him.

He pulled the leggings off you and discarded them. You suddenly remembered that you were wearing lacy blue panties, which you just so happened to remember was Matt’s favorite color.

“Did you wear these for me, baby?” He smirked. You whined, becoming needy for him to touch you.

“Please Matt, I need you so bad.” You whined out, grasping for his hands to just go ahead and take your underwear off. He didn’t resist as you guided his hands to the waistband of your underwear and drew his hands down, dragging your underwear with it, until they slipped off your legs and into the bedding.

He moved your legs open slightly, licking his lips when he saw how wet your cunt was, your wetness practically dripping down your slit. Matt simply couldn’t wait anymore, he needs you right now.

He looked to you for consent as he lined his cock up with your entrance. You nodded and he sank into you immediately, groaning. You whined at the quick intrusion but Matt stopped for a moment to let you get adjusted to his size before he continued.

He pulled out before thrusting into you at an agonizingly slow pace. You clawed at the bedsheets, practically begging him to just go faster, to fuck you into the mattress, to be rough, to hurry up.

“Damn, you’re really needy, huh ma?” He commented, rolling his hips lazily. You whined again. “Faster, faster, please go faster Matt” You begged him, writhing with need under him.

Then, in what seemed like almost a second, he quickly took you under your knees and raised you up before thrusting into you roughly. You moaned loudly, happy with the new pace. He quickly found a rhythm that had you screaming his name so loud people several floors down probably heard you.

“So fucking tight, baby.” He grunted as he fucked into you. You squeezed around his cock, feeling your orgasm approaching. “Matt, M’ gonna-”

“Mhm yeah baby, gonna cum on my cock? Huh, you gonna cum on my fucking cock?”

You nodded mindlessly, desperately grinding yourself on Matt’s cock in a feeble attempt to chase your high. Your tits bounce with the force of his thrusts, breathy moans erupting from your mouth every time he slams into you. He thrusted so hard into you that the headboard began to hit the wall but he couldn’t find it in himself to give a single fuck.

You hold onto the sheets so tight, it feels like your fingers might go straight through them. You’ve never been fucked this hard and needless to say, you were fucking loving it.

And then you felt it, that wonderful knot unraveling in your stomach, the intense pleasure that rippled through your body and caused your eyes to roll to the back of your head. You chanted Matt’s name over and over as you rode your high, so much it didn’t even sound like a real word anymore.

As you came on Matt’s cock, your pussy gripped his cock in the perfect way and then, Matt was cumming too. It seemed like it wouldn’t stop as he shot his sperm into you, not stopping his assault on your pussy as he fucked his cum into you.

“So fucking perfect, Ma. ‘Could fuck this pussy all night” Matt said. And then, he slumped over, exhausted but so fucking happy.

You two stayed like that for a few minutes so you could both catch your breath. Then Matt pulled out and watched as his cum slowly poured out of you onto the bed.

Your eyes fluttered gently as Matt wiped a piece of hair out of your face. He went to the bathroom and turned on the water, starting to make you a bath. Then he went back to you. “Come on, baby, let’s get you cleaned up.” He picked you up and carried you to the bathroom, helping you to use the toilet so you didn’t get a UTI.

Then he carefully put you into the bathtub and cleaned you off, washing your body and hair, all the while you let him. He took extra care to wash the soap off and wrap you in a fluffy towel. He carried you back to the bed and took the sheets off and threw them in the wash before putting new ones on the bed.

He laid down with you and cuddled. You wrapped your arms around his neck and muttered “I love yous” on his skin.

----<333

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starringthesturniolos · 2 days

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baby it's cold outside - chris sturniolo

summary: you are forced to share the air mattress with your long time enemy, chris, on a camping trip.

"Since you two wanted to argue the whole way up, you guys get to share a tent together. Yay!!", Matt says while jumping up and down in fake excitement.

On the way to the camp site, Chris and I did argue a lot. But in my defense, the idiot kept pushing my buttons! He kept turning my least favorite songs on and blasting them at full volume so I couldn't sleep. When we stopped at 7/11 he grabbed the last of my favorite drink and gulped it down in front of me. When we finally arrived, he dumped all my heavy bags on the ground and laughed at me struggling to pick them up. It was like he was asking to get yelled at, or like he wanted me to be mad at him.

"No, Matt please!" I grab onto his arm desperately. "I'm sorry but please don't make me stay with him!"

Matt rolls his eyes at me and folds his arms over his chest. "Would you rather sleep outside then?" I scoff and shoot a glare towards Chris who isn't standing too far behind Matt. "Yeah, sounds about right."

"Sleep outside then. That's fine by me, princess." Chris sneers responding to my comment while turning his back on me to set up his tent. I take three deep breathes and close my eyes. I am not going to let this idiot keep getting under my skin. I stomp away from Matt and Chris over to the log Nick was sitting on and he laughs at me.

"Well hello, Mrs. Grumpy"

"Oh shut up" you sigh.

I plop my bag down on the floor, my chest heaving from hauling ass. I had to carry my heavy bags all the way from where Chris dropped them earlier today to the tent. He was laying all comfortable in his set up of blankets and the sight alone pissed me off.

"Thought you were sleeping outside tonight. Is it because you're scared of the animals, princess?" he sneers out the nickname like I'm more of an ogre than a princess. Why is he always so fucking annoying.

"Leave me alone, and I leave you alone. I'm going to bed. I'm tired and I'm not here for the bullshit." I say as I reach into my bag for my sleeping bag. My sleeping bag. Holy shit.

"Shit, shit, shit" you dump out your bag and see no sleeping bag in sight. Its cold out and the thought of sleeping without any covering made a shiver crawl down your spine.

"What is it now??" Chris sits up and turns the flashlight on in an exasperated manner. You sigh deeply. "It's nothing, go to bed Chris." He shrugs and lies down again, turning his back to me. I didn't need to give him another reason to tease me tonight. I flop on the ground on the opposite side of the tent from him and curl up into a ball. I can feel myself shivering but I try to ignore it.

Thinking back on when I first met the triplets in 3rd grade, I remember how cute I thought Chris was. I met Nick and Matt on the bus ride home from school one day when Chris was sick. The next day, me, Matt, and Nick were playing tag at recess when Chris walked out with a doctors note in hand. He walked over to his brothers and my heart skipped a beat. Immediately, Nick and Matt went to introduce me. "Chris! This is-" before Nick could even finish his sentence, Chris was already talking. "Well, isn't she a looker" he chuckles sarcastically while looking down at me, clearly judging me. I also looked down at my two loose braids and hand me down clothes and sigh. "Am I really that ugly" I thought to myself. I knew I probably shouldn't have let a boy that I hardly knew opinion get to me, but the tears came nonetheless." I wanted him to like me" you thought to yourself, wallowing in self pity. I was cut out of my trance when Chris started to laugh sporadically. "What? What is it?" I mutter looking at Chris and then too Matt and Nick who look embarrassed by their brothers rude antics. "Nothing, nothing. Its just... You're even uglier when you cry!" he starts laughing even harder. I felt myself start to shake from embarrassment and anger. Who did he think he was. "Your mean!" I stomped my foot which only made him laugh harder. I couldn't take anymore harassment in one day, and turned on my heel and ran away with Nick and Matt right on my heels.

After all these years he still hasn't changed. "Y/N, HELLO!!" Chris yells bringing me back to the present. "What?".

"Where the fuck is your sleeping bag?" he asks. I sit up from where I was laying to face him. He was now laying down with his body faced in my direction.

"Oh my God, clearly not here or I'd be using it, dumbass." I roll my eyes and go to lay back down.

"Lose the attitude and come stay in the bed with me" he mutters before I can return to my balled up position. My mouth flys open. Since when did he care if I was cold or not. "Wait, what?" I say in shock.

"Get the fuck up and come here. Nick and Matt will punch me in the throat if you catch a cold." he says nonchalantly as if it's normal for people that hate each other to share a bed. I roll my eyes again. I'm not sharing a bed with an asshole, even if it causes me to freeze to death. "No thanks" I scoff, preparing to lay back down again.

He sighs exasperated and moves from his comfortable position in his blankets. He stands up and starts walking towards me. I feel my throat start to tense up. "What are you doing?" fear creeping into my tone. Once he reaches me, he grips underneath my thighs with one hand and tries to support my back with the other. Desperately, I try to wiggle out of his grasp but too no avail. I am in his arms in no time. It takes everything in me to not sink into his warm chest. I didn't realize how cold I was until this exact moment. Suddenly I start to panic again when he starts to walk because I have no idea where he's taking me. Then I think of the worst. "Are you seriously gonna throw me out the tent. Come on Chris, do you really hate me that much??"

He stops moving entirely and he looks down at me. God the way he looks looking down at me is enough to be in any girls dream. Too bad he's just a big dickhead. "You weren't listening to me. So now I'm forcing you to stay with me on the air mattress." he pauses before continuing, almost like he doesn't want to say what he's going to say next. He sighs and continues on, "You were shivering really bad while you were in La La land. I didn't want you too freeze anymore." He had a glimmer of concern in eyes when he said it and that's all it takes for me to believe him. I hate the way my cheeks warm up from the honest confession. It meant he cared, and it shouldn't matter to me but it does.

He starts to walk again, seeing I had no response and plops me down on the mattress. He flops down right beside me, and even though it's warmer with the blankets, it's not enough. Another shiver racks through me. "Y/n??" Chris doesn't even try to hide the concern in his voice. "Do you need me closer? Will that help?" he looks at me waiting for my call. The thought of Chris getting close to me is enough to make my head spin. And as much as I wish being in Chris' arms would repeal me, it doesn't. Instead I feel my heart skip a beat like they did all those years ago. Get it together Y/n.

"Yes" I whisper. Chris doesn't need to be told twice and he pulls me impossibly close to his body. He grabs my thigh and puts it around his waist and then pulls my head into his chest. All I can sense is him. Instead of it annoying me, I lean into his scent and his warmth. In my heart I know that even if it was the hottest night of all time, I'd still enjoy being wrapped in him like this. And I hated myself for it. I melt into his arms and feel myself getting lulled to sleep. Just as I'm about to fall asleep I feel his lips graze my hair. " I could never hate you, angel, not in a million years. I'm sorry". And with those words, I fall asleep in his arms.

Send in request, I could always use some more inspo

Love, Mya

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic

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draconic-desire · 1 day

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🔥 Let the World Burn 🔥

Yandere Scar x Reader

Trapped in his Elysium, you’re ready to fight to the end to avoid the “evolution” Scar so desperately wants from you. But you’ve underestimated that he’ll let it all burn to ashes in order to get what he really wants—you.

Warnings: Yandere behavior, forced imprisonment, brief depictions of mild violence/gore. Ends in a cliffhanger so lmk if I should write some follow up content… Also because WuWa is so new I’m not familiar with all the lore yet so bear with me!

Sweat drips down your face and into your eyes, blurring your vision. Your breathing is shallow, too fast, and you can barely hear over the sound of your pounding heart and rushing blood. The grip on your broadsword tightens as you ground yourself back into reality and face your opponent.

Just in time; the next attack thrown at you is dodged with milliseconds to spare. Claws graze your skin as you twirl and swing your weapon down, seeing your opening—only to be met with a kick that sends you flying back once again.

Your worn and bruised body tumbles along the ground, littering your skin with even more injuries. Something rips across your back as you roll, and you cry out in pain at the burn. Your broadsword flies in the opposite direction, leaving you defenseless.

The world spins, and sounds fade to a dull ringing in your ears as a pair of red boots fills your line of sight.

“Awww, giving up so soon? And just when we were starting to have fun!” The sensation of leather against your chin as your head is lifted upwards by the toe of the boot. Gritting your teeth, your eyes lock with heterochromatic red and black, the gaze that has been haunting you, hunting you.

Scar tilts his head, peering down at you with a smug, lopsided grin. A glowing card twirls on the tip of his index finger. He thinks he likes you like this—at his feet, peppered with scars from his claws, at his mercy. The color red suits you; he imagines licking up the blood from your wounds, and his smirk grows.

“Fuck you,” you snarl, slapping his foot away as you struggle to your knees. Coughing, you turn your head and spit, staining the ground crimson. You quickly wipe your forearm across your mouth and begin to stand, only to be met with the edge of a searing card to your neck. One wrong move and you’re sure the Overseer won’t hesitate to burn that ram insignia into your neck.

In fact, he’d probably prefer to brand you. You’re well aware that this man views you as his prey, delusional enough to think that he has a claim over you.

Scar clicks his tongue sympathetically, but his smile reveals he’s relishing your suffering all too much. “You understand how futile this is, right? My Elysium can only be disrupted by coordinated attacks from both sides—and believe me, my dear, I ensured that no one is coming to save you.”

For a moment your stomach drops, before you steel your nerves. No, you have to hold onto the hope that your allies—Rover, Jinhsi, Sanhua, all of Jinzhou—are alive and fighting to free you. Without that belief…you swallow thickly.

As if sensing your thoughts, the Overseer sighs loudly. “Even when it’s just the two of us, you can never focus solely on me! It hurts my feelings, you know.” He spreads his arms wide, gesturing to the domain in which he’s had you trapped for Sentinels’ know how long. “I even whisked you away on this little date for my big proposal! So how about you finally listen to me?”

“I’m listening,” you grind out—as you swiftly unsheath the dagger at your thigh and swing it up towards his ribs.

The weapon is immediately severed in two by his flaming card, likely thrown even before you reacted. The pieces thud uselessly to the ground.

“Ah ah ah,” he tuts, kneeling down and gripping your chin in a vice that makes you squirm. He barks out a laugh as you thrash to no avail. “So stubborn! Do I have to crush you to make you behave for once?”

Teeth bared, you lunge at his hand with your teeth, but he as you pinned. “You’re a maniac!”

His grin only widens, pulling taut to the corners of his mouth. “Self proclaimed!” Scar leans in, so close you can feel his breath on your sweaty skin, too hot from the heat searing around you. Your heart plummets as he scours over your face, eyes lingering on your lips for far too long before he tilts his chin up and away teasingly.

After numerous encounters, countless clashes of ideals and battles later—all of which he orchestrated, just to see you again—Scar has learned your patterns, your tells. He knows exactly how to rile you up, and it’s when your emotions get the better of you that he gains the upper hand like this. He finds you utterly irresistible wearing that glowering scowl on your lips, though he’d prefer to kiss it away…or bite those lips until they bleed.

“Well, now that I’m down on one knee,” he giggles, “how about we get back to the reason I brought you here, hm? My proposal?”

“I told you before,” you growl, “you’ll have to kill me before I willingly join the Fractsidus.”

By this point, you’ve lost count of the number of times you’ve “serendipitously” crossed paths with Scar—his way of phrasing stalking—and heard this same speech. How the Fractsidus, how he, wants you, needs you. How he sensed the difference in your frequency, how you’ve been selected to lead the new line of humans, capable of fusing with Tacet Discords. That you should abandon your principles, your friends and city, to stand by his side as the true Lament brings about the next evolution of your species.

No matter how many times you told him off or sparred with him, he persisted. Almost as if your rejections only fueled his obsession with you and your abilities, the urge you had to fight every time you encountered an Echo.

“That hunger,” he’d said, stalking towards you as he gazed at the top of the Tacet Mark between your collarbones, the rest of which disappeared vertically down your sternum, “I felt it too. If you would just embrace it, like me, you’d know what true power feels like. Join me, and we can usher in the future.”

“Tsk, another missed opportunity.” That round, you whirled around to find him perched on a rooftop, observing as your Pengu Terminal sucked in the golden Echo of a Fusion Dreadmane. “Imagine having those abilities all for yourself! Does that really sound so bad?”

“I’m getting impatient, my dear.” You’d been expecting him that time, but not so close, chest pressed firmly against your back—and certainly not the talon-tipped finger he’d sensually traced up your chest, lining your Mark. “You’d better start seriously considering my deal, or else there may be consequences. And I’d so hate to hurt you.”

Today must have been your ultimatum.

“Normally I would just dispose of you,” he shrugs, as if chatting about the weather and not murder, “but you’re a special case. I have different plans for you, my dear.”

Now it’s your turn to laugh. “You’re even crazier than I imagined, then, if you think I’ll consider anything you have to say.”

“Are you sure? I thought a hero type such as yourself would be begging to know.”

He’s baiting you, and like a fish to a fly, you fall into the obvious trap. “What, you’ll keep me imprisoned here until I give in? Pull out a diamond ring?”

Your attitude falters at the devious smirk he flashes you. “Not quite.”

The sound of snapping fingers, and the Elysium domain rapidly melts away—only to pull away the curtain and reveal the horrifying truth behind.

“No,” you breathe as the reality of his plan sinks in.

The outline of the city materializes around you. Not Jinzhou. In fact, based on the sheer level carnage—buildings in ruin, bodies strewn across the streets, blood painting the ground in splatters of bright crimson—you’re positive there are no Resonators for miles. No one is coming to save these people—it’s as if they were placed here for the slaughter, lambs delivered to the beast that rages before you.

Sensing your arrival, the Tacet Discord known as the Delirium Lioness spins and snarls, baring saber-teeth smeared with the gore of its latest victim. It claws at the ground with massive purple and grey paws, readying to charge. That is when you notice the teddy bear crushed under its gait, and your mind shatters.

It was all an illusion. The whole time you were trapped in Elysium was to stall for this—Scar had the Lioness dropped into this innocent town, knowing that you would stop at nothing to eradicate it and save those whom you still could. And you know exactly what the asking price will be.

You don’t even think twice before you react. Broadsword in hand, having reappeared once the domain broke, you lunge to meet the TD in combat—and in doing so, you sign your own fate.

The sound of steel meeting bone rings through the air as the Delirium Lioness parries your first strike with its fangs. You strain as it bites down on the blade, attempting to crush your weapon. With a roar, you send a shockwave of Spectro through the blade, blasting the TD backwards. Bystanders scream as the creature quickly recovers, and you yell at them to flee. No one else will die today.

The entire time, you can hear Scar chuckling behind you.

The Lioness prowls forward. As it prepares to pounce, you see your chance. You stand your ground, not moving a muscle as it lunges towards you. At the last moment, you drop onto your back and slash the broadsword across the beast’s belly as it careens over you. It screeches as you eviscerate it, exploding into a million golden particles above you—an Echo.

Clapping reverberates through the now still streets. “Bravo!” Hands pull you up, and a shockingly gentle finger brushes your cheek. “(Y/n), my little hero. Seems you’ve figured out my proposal before I could pop the question myself.”

The Tacet Mark on your sternum flashes, calling to the Lioness’s Echo. Up until now, you’ve been able to suppress the call for your body to absorb the TD’s afterimage. But now, you have no choice. If you don’t give in to the desire that Scar has expressed all along, then today will just repeat itself over and over until you do. He said he wouldn’t kill you, but that future, with the promise of so many more lives lost, would be worst than death.

Shaking your head, you drop your sword and pound your fists into his chest. You can’t look at him directly. “Why?” You choke on your own words as tears stream down your cheeks. “I would have listened to you. To avoid this, I would have—” Another sob wracks your body. “I would have given you anything, everything.”

Scar angles your chin upwards so you have no choice but to look him in the eye. His expression is surprisingly collected, his touch too light for a man who just committed such a heinous crime. “My dear, I would let the entire world burn to make you mine. You can’t have evolution without extinction, after all. This may be the end for them, but it is only the beginning for us.”

He kisses you then, longingly, languidly. Like a man enjoying every last taste and sensation of a final meal. You want to struggle, but what’s the point anymore? Even when he ghosts his claws across your neck, wrapping a hand around your throat and squeezing lightly, you let him without a fight.

He pulls away, smiling at you and your expression, so broken and defeated, and once again at his mercy. Finally, finally you are his, and you will be so much more after your transformation. Ever since he first found you, he knew that only you could ever match his frequency, could join him on his throne of fire and ashes. He drags a claw across your lip, drawing blood, which he quickly laps up with his tongue. You taste even more delicious than he could have imagined.

He can’t wait to taste you in every way possible.

Savoring the flavor of your blood, he motions toward the Echo. “Come now, dear. It’s time you fulfilled your end of the proposal.”

Yes, his proposal. The one he has hounded you with: for you to willingly absorb a TD, becoming exactly like him. A monster. His pet, his prey, his alone to have.

To save others, to protect Jinzhou from this demon, you’ll accept that fate.

You close your eyes and let the reverberation in.

#yandere scar #yandere scar x reader #yandere scar wuwa #yandere scar wuthering waves #yandere #wuwa scar #scar wuwa #wuwa #scar wuthering waves #wuthering waves scar #wuthering waves #yandere headcanons #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yanderecore #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere male

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7ndipity · 1 day

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Things That Remind Them Of You

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: The things that remind the members of you while on tour and make them call you up to tell you about it.

Warnings: none

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon for this request! I hope you like it!

Masterlist

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Jin: A little cliche for him, but food. He’s always wishing he could take you to the different restaurants he gets to visit while traveling. Another is whenever he catches the scent of something that reminds him of your perfume. One whiff and he’s suddenly aware how long it’s been since he last spoke to you, whether it’s been five hours or five minutes, he doesn’t care, he has to hear your voice again.

Yoongi: For Yoongi, what reminds him of you is almost always music. Your favorite song, a song you hate, the song you once sang so badly at karaoke that he cried laughing, even songs that don’t seem to have any connection to you but just give the right vibe, each one has him reaching for his phone. You like to tease him that every song seems to remind him of you, and he chooses not to admit you’re right.

Hobi: It’s the taste of his morning coffee. He’s so used to hearing your voice first thing in the morning, still slightly groggy from sleep, sharing your plans for the day with him over your drinks of choice. He has to call you, he has to share at least this little bit of his day with you, otherwise everything just feels off for the rest of the day, like he’s missing something.

Namjoon: Similar to Yoongi, Joons’ world is so immersed in music, so he tends to find himself calling you after shows or rehearsals, when his mind starts flicking through memories connected to certain songs. Some of them are heavier, others make him smile in spite of himself, like the one he wrote after your first night together when he realized you were the one.

Jimin: It’s not necessarily something specific that reminds him of you, but more so certain times when it’s quiet, his mind immediately goes to you. Peace reminds him of you, of the sleepy late night conversations before you both fall asleep. He finds himself calling you in those moments to hear your voice, otherwise the quiet just feels wrong.

Taehyung: It’s whenever he sees other couples, especially when he’s out sightseeing. He always wishes that you could be with him while he’s away on tour, but seeing other couples sharing special moments together makes him realize just how much he misses you all over again. He calls you up immediately, telling you all about what he’s up to and asking your thoughts on it, making it feel more like you’re there with him.

Jungkook: For Jungkook, it’s the most random things. One of the members did something funny? He has to text you about it immediately. He saw a cute dog while out to lunch? He’s sending you a pic. At the end of the day, he still tells you about these things all over again when he calls before bed, but you don’t mind. Sharing the little highlights of each other's days makes the distance between you feel the littlest bit smaller.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @universal-travel-er @bo0o0o0ooo @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

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1d1195 · 2 days

Text

Traditional - Extra VII

Read Traditional here | ~4.1k words

Warnings: smut. 18+ only. oral (m), sex, maybe public if you believe enough. Otherwise, it's kinda fluffy

From me: idk I think Harry can be a little TOO self-loathing. And he is really so sweet and nice overall. I think he deserves some TRADITIONAL sugar-daddy CEO treatment.

Summary: Harry is a lot calmer now that the client fiasco is over. But he's still on edge. Fortunately, she has an idea to take the edge off.

Harry was much more pleased with the direction of his company now that the biggest crisis of his career was finally in the rearview mirror. Now that her arm was healed and his clients were stable, everything was much better.

Except Harry didn’t fully accept it.

It was like there was a little worm in his brain that ate at him and whispered directly into the auditorial processing space that something, at any moment, would go wrong. The other shoe would drop and he would be back at square one.

“Baby?” She interrupted his thoughts of worthlessness and impostor syndrome. God he needed to see someone. But when was there time? “I asked about dinner, it’s Monday,” she reminded him gently. His mind reeling but he wanted to focus on her.

He wasn’t angry. For the first time in months. It felt like that for everyone around him. It created an entirely different vibe in the office. People weren’t scared during meetings. He didn’t slam his phone down when something was late.

But she noticed how withdrawn he was because she knew him.

“Are you alright?” Her voice wasn’t accusatory. It was still quiet. Like she was a little afraid she would set him off. But he hadn’t bought new electronics in months. The accounting department joked they would get to decrease the furniture budget this quarter as it closed. Harry couldn’t do anything but laugh because it was true. It was the first time he felt at ease since the mess happened.

It was awful.

“M’fine,” he smiled gently at her. It was their daily meeting. The one Harry didn’t even know they had until he saw it written on her calendar back when her cramps made her sleep through it. But he knew she didn’t believe his hand-waving denial. He wasn’t fine, she knew it.

“Okay,” she sipped her drink and eyed him suspiciously.

He was looking at the papers on his desk and every little negative number made his heart skip a beat.

This wasn’t healthy.

“Are you sure?” She asked again.

That wasn’t helping him either. How perceptive she was and knowing exactly what he was feeling. It was almost annoying that she could do it. All he wanted to do was hide his feelings from her the way he was supposed to, and she made it so difficult.

God, she was perfect.

He nodded silently, not looking up at her because if he did, she would read him like an open book. She would praise him and tell him he was perfect. He didn’t want that. It was stupid, but he needed to believe it himself. It was partially his own fault. Styles Inc. suffered very few hiccups other than getting up and running. Back when he had just graduated, and he had stuffed every penny he had into the two offices he and Niall needed to get started. It grew before his eyes. He believed he was important and doing important things. He knew he was talented and doing well.

Almost having to fire her was the worst wakeup call.

“Harry,” her voice broke his thoughts again.

“Yeah, kitten?” He hummed trying to admire the green numbers on the spreadsheet before him. They were large and lovely. The red ones amounted to next to nothing in comparison. But it didn’t matter. They were terrifying.

“Baby, I just asked you if you think I should go out for drinks with a client that keeps hitting on me so that we can get a bigger contract from him, and you said that was a good idea.”

His head snapped up. Jealousy pierced his heart and ran hot through his blood in seconds. “What client hits on you?” He scowled. They were dropping said client. Effective immediately. Not even feeling like an impostor would deter him from that kind of behavior. It wouldn’t matter if they were his biggest client either. If they were hitting on her—

“You really think a client would be stupid enough to hit on me knowing you’re my boyfriend?” She asked a slight smirk on her lips.

He ran a hand over his face. Of course they wouldn’t. Harry had a scary side, and everyone knew it. If they even tried to flirt with her Harry would probably break their neck. The little jealous monster inside of his head was more powerful than the worm that told him he wasn’t talented, and he could lose it all at a moment’s notice.

And he hated that word lately. He needed to add another reminder on his phone to remedy that immediately as well. Boyfriend. It was so childish sounding. He was a successful businessman, and he had a gorgeous girlfriend who made him feel like... well... like he deserved to own such a successful company. Fiancé. Husband. That had a nicer ring to it. He needed to fix that soon.

“Harry,” she giggled.

“What?”

“You’re staring at me,” she was blushing. Looked away as she sat in the chair across from him on the other side of the desk.

He sighed and smiled tiredly. “Course,” he really looked at her again, not just spaced out like he had been doing. The way her hair fell, the way her lip gloss coated her straw. The way her nail polish chipped—he would send her for a manicure (with Eleanor so she’d actually go) even though she preferred when Harry painted them—hence the chipping.

Harry was so captivated by her. It did seem like a crime that he hadn’t given her his full attention during their coffee break. Part of him thought she should model for offices or office furniture. It was sexist and lizard-brained of him. But she was so pretty it was the only thing he could think of in that moment. Then he considered the notion of her being a professor or a doctor—even though he knew she wasn’t qualified for it. But it didn’t matter. He suspected she could do it without training. She was too lovely. The fact that she was intelligent and beautiful and nice was unfair. He didn’t deserve something so good when he could lose the biggest reason she was in his life. “You’re so pretty, kitten.”

Her cheeks turned red again. Harry thought he would explode. “Don’t change the subject.”

“M’not,” he pouted. She did the cute little nose wrinkle that made Harry’s heart skip a beat the same way the negative numbers on spreadsheets did but this time he didn’t mind.

“Your brain has been elsewhere during this whole meeting—”

“Can y’please stop calling it a meeting, kitten?” he grumbled. It felt so wrong to call it a meeting when he was in love with her. Like he needed a corporate excuse to have her sit in his office.

“Pretenses, baby. Don’t want anyone to know I’m your second favorite.”

He grunted, running a hand over his face as the irritation sank in again because of her words. “Niall is not m’favorite.”

She smiled impishly. Her cheeks looked like little apples that Harry wanted to kiss and take bites out of. Her eyes danced with mischievousness that he thought she could only have learned from Louis.

He loved her so much.

Which was why he was so mad that he was worried. If this company suffered the thought of letting her down, of telling her that he wasn’t successful anymore. He met her only because he did well and was successful. How would she love him if that wasn’t true anymore?

“Harry, I’m going to drag you to the hospital if you don’t tell me.”

“Can we talk ‘bout it at home?”

She frowned. “Oh, it’s not work related?” She asked.

He shook his head, confused as to how she would conclude such a thing. “What do y’mean?”

“Well... if it was work-related, you would tell me now. You only tell me relationship-related things at home. Which means now I have to go back to my office and conference call Louis and Eleanor and pull Niall from his work so we can discuss where I’m going to live because you can’t take the sound of me singing in the shower anymore. What’s worse is Louis will agree and he won’t want me to live with him and Eleanor either. Then I’ll have to find my own place and it won’t have room for a porch swing and—”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Kitten, shut up,” he sighed. She smiled sweetly, unperturbed by the way he said it because he sounded exhausted with her, which was almost definitely her goal. He knew she liked to annoy him—even when he was already suffering internally.

“I don’t want to say it’s your fault, baby. But if you would just tell me what—”

“I don’t feel successful.”

She tilted her head at him curiously. “You don’t?”

He shook his head feeling the nerves in every inch of his skeleton. Right down to the bone. Past the bone. Probably to the atoms or even further to each proton and neutron. Telling her made it real. Telling her anything meant he had to deal with what he was feeling because she wouldn’t let him brush it away.

She was about as bad as the worm in his head.

“Okay,” she nodded. Then there was silence.

They stared at each other for a significant moment. Harry thought it could have been ten minutes, but it might have only been ten seconds. “You’re not going t’say anything?” He asked.

She shrugged. “I could,” she smiled gently. Almost pitifully. It made Harry feel the slightest bit worse. But then she made it better. Of course she did. She made everything seem so... simple. In the best way. A point of view he hadn’t considered. “I could ask you why. Or tell you how it’s not true—all of which I do believe. But I actually think it’s kind of more serious than that. I think you went through a really difficult thing. It piled and piled and you dealt with it. More than anyone here. Because you care and love this place with everything in you,” she listed. “I think you’ll need to talk to someone more qualified than me to fully deal with it. But I will list every reason why you’re completely, totally, and simply wrong another time. When you’re not so sad looking and it won’t fall on deaf ears,” she assured him with a pointed expression that he had fallen in love with so many times over it was uncanny.

Had he mentioned he loved her so much?

“Oh,” he murmured.

She stood up, moved around his desk and leaned against the edge in front of him. Her eyes didn’t move from his and she brought a hand to his face, traced the curve of his jaw, the soft pink lips she loved so much. “Why are you worried you’re not successful?” She asked.

She really knew where to hit him where it hurt. “Y’won’t love me...if m’not successful.”

“Harry,” she cooed. “Baby—”

“I know,” he turned into her hand and kissed the center of her palm. “But I... I only met y’because m’successful. If m’not... then...”

“You know I don’t love you because you have money, right? We’ve been over this.”

“I know,” he nodded. “Really, I do. But s’like...there’s something in m’brain, kitten. I can’t turn it off and m’exhausted. After all that... I mean... y’saw. It was reallybad. Like really bad. M’still kind of worried and—what are you doing?”

“Turning your brain off,” she smiled, full of mischief once more as she slunk down to her knees. She wiggled into the space of his desk where he normally pushed his chair in. “Surely you’ve thought about this?” She asked, her hand sliding up his thigh.

Harry was suddenly illiterate. And mute. What was she talking about? Were they talking about something? The only thing he could hear was his uneven breath and the clinking sound of his belt and zipper. “Oh,” he groaned as her lips mouthed at the outline of his dick against his briefs.

“Cause I’ve thought about it. A lot.”

“You have?” He murmured dumbly.

She nodded, looking up at him from between his legs, crammed under his desk. It was a fantasy he hadn’t even imagined before thirty seconds prior and there she was: making it come true. Her lashes seemed so long, and her hand was massaging him through his underwear. His heart was pounding. All thoughts of negative numbers were gone.

She deserved a raise.

Her fingers hooked around his underwear, and she tugged on them, pulling him free. He didn’t even realize he was straining against the fabric. Within seconds her lips enveloped around him, and she sucked quickly. Hard. Everything was warm and wet instantly.

Harry had done this before with the companions he had found on the very website he found her, but he wished he never had because this was her. She was so perfect. She was everything he wanted. She was beneath his desk making him feel important and it was so ridiculous for him to feel that way but it worked. It was working.

Her mouth was meant to be around him. At least that was the way it felt. It never felt like this. She didn’t even care about herself. Which was fine because Harry would return whatever she gave him now plus interest. For the first time in a year, he felt utterly relaxed. Her head bobbing up and down the length of him. He put a hand on the back of her head, and she moaned softly sending a vibration through him and up to his chest. His cheeks felt hot. Not that he was embarrassed. But it was so much rapid blood flow. Everywhere. He was going to lose his mind.

There was a knock on the door.

She froze but didn’t remove her mouth from him. Harry grumbled a curse under his breath, carefully tucked himself further the edge of his desk without bumping her too much or crushing her. “Yeah?” He called tentatively.

Her lips focused on the tip of him making him struggle to maintain his composure.

“She’s not here?” Niall frowned from the doorway.

Harry shook his head staring at the screen trying not to let his best friend know that his girlfriend and Niall’s very favorite coworker was crammed beneath his desk and sucking him for all he was worth. Even though Niall was right there. “Ran an errand,” her tongue slid down the underside of him silently. He cleared his throat, shifted. Hoping she wouldn’t torture him in front of his best friend. When did she get so brave?

Oh. Traditional. That’s what that meant. Harry thought to himself.

“When she gets back can you ask her where the file from yesterday’s meeting is? I don’t want to mess with her organizational system,” she dug her nails into his thigh not very hard but so her presence was known. As if the thought of Niall messing with her system really was the worst thing he could do in that moment.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t,” Harry chuckled. But the movement made him shift in her mouth which nearly sent him cross-eyed. He cleared his throat again.

“You okay? She’s been worried about you.”

“M’fine,” he rolled his eyes.

She silently sucked harder as if to prove a point. Moved him further down her throat. Harry took a deep breath to maintain any semblance of control he had left over the situation. Which was very little.

“I like that she worries about you.”

“It’s unnecessary,” Harry muttered. To both of them.

“When are you going to marry her?” Niall asked.

That paused her. She released him, peered up through those sinful lashes and smiled more mischievously than he had ever seen. Harry shifted. Silently and blindly lining himself up with her mouth again to keep her from saying I knew it or just generally giving herself away in front of Niall. She obligingly took his length down her throat again and it was a miracle she didn’t make a sound with the amount of spit lodged in her mouth. “Soon,” he assured Niall.

“She left her cell in the office,” he said. “Hopefully she’s with the driver or something.”

“Yeah, I called for him,” he wanted Niall out. “What time are we teeing off tomorrow?” He asked the last bout of normalcy he had left in him. Her lips were dragging so slowly over him it felt nearly painful. The moment Niall left he was going to come.

“Nine fifteen.”

He nodded. “Alright, I’ll be by later for the new account model for—” He coughed as her fingers danced along the inside of his thighs, reaching for the space of his cock that didn’t fit in her mouth as well as underneath— “Excuse me,” he covered his mouth over the fake cough before dropping his hand to his lap—her head—and pushed ever so slightly toward the back of her throat. Fortunately, his phone rang. Niall nodded waving him off; allowing him to tend to his phone call—that he was not going to answer.

“I got it,” he assured him and closed the door.

Harry yanked from her mouth, shoved from the desk, barely pulling his pants up at all. He hurried across his office to twist the lock on his door. Once turned around, she was already there, knelt before him again and sucking him into her warm mouth again. Sucking hard. It was probably loud. Wet. Anyone that happened to be by his door at that moment would know what was happening on the other side. Maybe they would make a rumor. Maybe they would assume it was her—neither of which Harry wanted. “Not here, kitten,” he groaned quietly and lifted her begrudgingly from her knees. He pulled her toward the bathroom. He briefly thought of the first time he was in there with her, knelt himself, to take her shoe off and Louis and Eleanor assumed he was prepared to do something he loved doing to her and strongly considered doing it again. Just as he lifted her bum onto the counter she stopped him.

“Nope,” she slid down again. Knelt once more. “Said it was turning your brain off,” she reminded him. Her lips around his dick once again. Now, with an office separating them from the rest of the company, she openly slurped. Made obscene noises that would satisfy him just fine on business trips where he didn’t get to take her with him and leave him with nothing but fantasies before falling asleep in a lonely hotel room. He slammed the bathroom door shut just for further privacy.

He groaned lowly, meeting the bob of her head as gently as he could so as not to cause her to struggle but enjoying the warmth of her mouth and throat. Her lips looked so sexy around him he wasn’t going to last much longer at all. “Love,” he tilted his head back. “Y’need to—”

“Shh,” she pulled back, pressing the most chaste of kisses along his length which was an oxymoron. “Just worry about you,” she hummed. “Please?”

Harry groaned his hands gathering her hair at the back of her head as she slipped her mouth down as much of him as she could take and it felt so good it made him

“Aw fuck, kitten, s’good,” he groaned and held her in place as he released in her mouth. His breath was ragged, his hips stuttering slightly. She continued sucking even though it was sensitive. Even though it was more than he deserved.

“Do you really think I would stop loving you because you didn’t have money?” She asked, fluttering her lashes. Voice the slightest bit hoarser.

He lifted her from her knees, putting her on the counter again and shoved her dress up to her hips. Thank God she wore a dress. “This underwear is ripped,” he grumbled.

She frowned. “It is? It’s my favorite I didn’t notice a rip when I put them on this mor—”

But she didn’t realize he was predicting the future. He pulled on the nylon cotton blend with so much force her already hoarse voice died in her throat. He groaned, tossing them on the floor. He lined himself up with her entrance and brought her bum to the edge so the sharp corner dug into her flesh. It would leave a bruise and the only thought that was left in her head was that Harry would kiss it and make it better later.

His length slid inside her so effortlessly. She should have been embarrassed how turned on she was sucking him off—especially when Niall got to the office but she couldn’t help it. Now the length that had felt so good in her throat was making her core ache. He thrusted into her quickly. Hardly letting her breathe or realize what was happening, but it felt so good. She was moaning into the curve of shoulder. Clinging to him. “Baby, I—”

“S’good kitten. S’good. I love you so fucking much,” his hips were relentless. All thought escaping her mind. A fire could have broken out in the shower and she wouldn’t have moved—couldn’t have moved.

“Oh wow,” she sighed as Harry pulled her closer to him—her legs wound around his waist. Her butt barely on the counter. Her eyes fluttered with each thrust. “Oh, oh my God,” she moaned. “You’re—”

“Gonna come on m’cock, kitten,” it was a question. Or a command. She didn’t know. It was both. Neither. Part of her wondered if he even said anything.

But she did. She did come on his cock. Hard. She fluttered around him for what felt like minutes. Hours. Centuries. Color ceased to have meaning. There was no sound. That was heaven. She was sure. A blasphemous thought that she didn’t even have the strength to laugh about because she was deliriously good.

Her voice was hoarser than only moments before. Her face tucked into his shoulder and her breath shaky as he pushed her further back toward the mirror at the end of the counter behind the sink. Further from him. Her cheeks were flushed, and she could only imagine what he had done to her hair. But his pupils were massive. His lips pinker than ever. His chest heaved.

Clearing her throat, she gently tucked him back into his pants. Then tucked in his shirt too. With the same delicateness as she did with his cock. It was intoxicating. Made him want to go another thousand rounds with her. “So, in conclusion,” she whispered. “I will love you whether you have a kajillion dollars or one dollar,” she looked up at him, cheeks burning.

“That was very sexy, kitten,” his eyelids practically fluttered.

“I...” she cleared her throat. “I surprised myself, actually.”

“We should do this more often,” he pulled her skirt down and brought her closer to the edge of the counter again. She hissed at the contact against the bruise that was definitely forming. He frowned. “Oh, love m’sorry,” he cupped her face and gazed at her. “Was I too rough? I shouldn’t have—”

“Harry, if I didn’t fear for the stability of my leg muscles I would probably bend over your desk for you.” He swore under his breath. “You did bruise my butt though.”

“No good deed,” he mumbled and lifted her gently from the counter. His hand cupping her backside and gently rubbing each cheek as if it were normal. But it felt normal.

She nuzzled into his chest and sighed contentedly. “Niall’s going to see right through me,” she murmured.

“I’ll fire him again if he makes y’uncomfortable.”

She snorted and laughed, tilting her head up to look at him. “You are my favorite person Harry Styles. I love you so much. Even if you ruined my favorite pair of underwear.”

He smiled as mischievously as she had earlier in the day. “I’ll buy you more...a hundred pairs of them. Then I’ll ruin them all again,” he promised, then pressed his mouth firmly against hers. A gentle, soft kiss in comparison to all they did in the span of half an hour. “I love you too.”

She grinned. “Say it again.”

He shook his head at her, kissed her forehead, effectively turning her to mush, which was probably his plan so she couldn’t deny his next request. “Stop calling our coffee break a meeting.”

But her senses were returning. The ones that weren’t primal and horny about how massive Harry’s dick was in her mouth. She was going to say something funny; he could see it in the glint in her eye. “Well, I can’t put ‘sex’ on your calendar now can I?”

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sunny44 · 8 hours

Text

You have to share

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Mom!wife!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: your son thinks that Max needs to share.

I was at home, enjoying a rare moment of tranquility after a long and victorious Formula 1 season. Sitting on the living room sofa, I watched Oliver playing with his toy cars on the rug. At that moment, I caught myself thinking about how big he had gotten and how quickly time had passed. It seemed like yesterday that Y/n told me she was pregnant, and we were at the hospital watching him being born. Now he was already four years old, and I was thinking about talking to her and seeing what she thought about trying for another one.

"Daddy, can you come play with me?" Oliver asked, his voice full of enthusiasm.

"Of course, champ." I replied, smiling as I got up to sit with him on the rug.

I sat next to Oliver, picking up one of the cars. We started an improvised race, Oliver's laughter filling the room and making me laugh along with him.

Of course, he made me be myself, and he was Uncle Lando.

After a few minutes, Oliver suddenly stopped and looked at me seriously.

"Daddy, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, what's up?" I asked, surprised by the sudden change in tone.

"Why do you win all the championships? Don't you think it's a bit selfish not to share with the other drivers?"

I admit I was extremely surprised by the question. I had never thought that Oliver could see it that way.

"Why do you think that?"

"Because Mommy always says we can't be selfish, that we have to share and we can’t have everything just because we want to. But you always have the victories, and that's not fair.” he said simply, and I understood his analogy about selfishness.

"Look, Oliver, I love what I do. I love racing, and I love winning. It's something I've worked for my whole life.” I began, trying to explain.

"But, Daddy," Oliver interrupted, "if you win everything, the other drivers never get a chance to feel what it's like to be a champion. They must be really sad."

I was silent for a moment, considering my son's words. I had never thought of my victories that way, obviously, because that's not how the sport works, but I also had never thought of explaining it to him so he wouldn't think I or any other driver was selfish for winning.

"I understand what you're saying," I told him. "But Formula 1 is a competitive sport. All the drivers train hard and want to win; there's no rule that says each driver has to win once. When I win, it's because I worked hard for it. And I know the other drivers also work really hard, and when their time comes, they will win too."

Oliver frowned, thinking.

"But wouldn't it be fairer if you let the others win sometimes? That way, everyone would be happy." I smiled at him, proud that he thought that way.

"You know, Oliver, the joy of winning comes from effort and dedication. If I just let the others win, it wouldn't be fair to them either. They want to win honestly, knowing they were the best that day and not because someone let them win."

Oliver nodded slowly, understanding.

"So you win because you're the best? And they also want to win because that shows they're the best?"

"Exactly," I replied, satisfied with his understanding. "And that's what makes victory so special. Each driver has their victories, their achievements. And we all respect each other for that."

Oliver smiled, now more relieved.

"So, when I grow up and race for real, I'll train really hard to beat you!" I laughed, hugging my son.

"That's right, champ. And when that day comes, I'll be very proud of you."

After that, we continued playing with the toy cars, and about half an hour later, my wife walked through the door with her bag and a pizza box.

"Hi, my loves," she said, closing the door, and I was immediately abandoned.

"Mommy!" Oliver shouted, running to her, and she hugged him, picking him up.

"What are my two favorite boys doing?"

"We're playing Formula 1," he said excitedly, and she gave me a peck on the lips.

"Hmmm, sounds fun."

"Do you want to play with us?" He gave her those big blue puppy eyes. Y/n knows how to resist, but he always wins me over with them.

"I would love to, but I'm starving and really craving that pizza."

"You brought pizza?" he asked, excited.

"Yes, I did."

"Then what are we waiting for?" he said, starting to squirm in her arms to be put down. "I'm going to wash my hands."

And with that, he ran to the bathroom, giving me a few minutes alone with her.

"How are you?" I asked, hugging her waist as she wrapped her arms around my neck.

"Tired but good, counting the days until vacation." She kissed me again.

"Oliver asked me today if I didn't think it was selfish of me to win all the championships and not let the other drivers win too." She started laughing at that.

"Where did he get that from?" she asked, going to set up the pizza for us to eat.

"He asked because he thought it was unfair for me to win everything and because he thought the other drivers would be sad."

"Ugh, he's so cute," she said, and I agreed. "I miss when he was a baby."

"About that," then she looked at me, "I was thinking about having another one."

"Do you want another kid?"

"Yes, don't you?"

"I do, actually, I just didn't know if you wanted to."

"I would love to have another four," she laughed.

"That's not going to happen. If it were you giving birth, I'd agree, but since it's not," just then Oliver came in and sat in his chair, and I served him a slice of pizza and a glass of juice.

“Hmm I love pizza.” He said with his mouth all covered with sauce making us laugh.

After we had dinner as a family we all went to bed to watch a movie together.

Bonus scene!

Y/nverstappen instagram stories

“Daddy and Oli time. And yes, he looks exactly like his father, I was just carrying him for 9 months.”

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coff33andb00ks · 7 hours

Text

Rule Breaker - Pt 1

max verstappen x single mom!reader face claim: none, random pinterest find warnings: cursing, max is broody, jos is an asshole, fluff, barely proofread, idk red bull team aside from Max, Checo, and Horner... (y/n's bestie is named after my irl bestie bc she told me to write this, and y/n's son is not named after Magnussen i swear) Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 4293 auth.note: hiii new to writing for f1 so I'm posting this in the middle of the night and hiding in bed - feedback greatly appreciated. also this is forbidden love/he falls first/friends to enemies to lovers

"Hey Max, come meet the new social media admin."

On his way out, he barely heard the words. But they registered and he immediately turned, knowing how important it was to have a good rapport with the social media personnel. He only had to meet them, then he could leave and go to the team apartment and… He didn't know. Pass time in his sim until he couldn't hold his eyes open. Maybe he'd go for a run until he was close to exhaustion. Or see if Lando was in the country and they could go out together. It was only when he was about to pass out that he was able to sleep and not be plagued with dreams.

His eyes swept the small office, swiveling to focus on the new face. She smiled, giving him a little wave as she set down her slice of pizza.

"Max, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Max."

"Hello," he said, watching as she wiped her mouth with a napkin.

"Hi, sorry." She took a sip of her drink and wiped her mouth again. "Sorry – It's so great to meet you."

She was American. Walking over, he extended his hand. "Where are you from?"

Shaking his hand, she smiled up at him. "Well most recently I was with—"

"No, no, where in America," he corrected.

"Oh! North Carolina. I try to keep the country accent to a minimum but sometimes I slip up." She motioned to the pizza box on the desk. "You want a slice?"

No, he had to leave. His work was done, he didn't need to hang around and kill his precious down time. Besides, his diet was strict for the next few days, what with the race coming up. He had to focus on… Within fifteen seconds he was sitting across from her, holding a slice in one hand. One slice wouldn't hurt, he decided as he took a bite. "How long have you been in England?"

"About three weeks?" She glanced at her watch and nodded. "Three weeks tomorrow. I was staying at an Airbnb until a week ago when I moved into my apartment."

He nodded. "Are you going to be based here or go to the races?"

"Races. Gonna be living the glamorous life of travel and hotels and surviving on caffeine and sugar," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"It's not so bad."

"I'm sure I'll get used to it. You've been doing it for, what, half your life now?"

Shrugging, he took a sip of his water. "More than that, really. Are you saying you don't travel?"

"Not like this. I lucked out with my last job because I was able to do it mostly from home. I think I went up to New York or out to Cali maybe six times total? But I know I can do it," she added when his eyebrows lifted. "It'll just take a little getting used to, especially with a little one in tow a lot of the time."

That surprised him. His eyes immediately moved to her hands, which were completely bare of rings. "A little one?"

Y/n nodded, her eyes lighting. "He's three."

"What's his name?" Max asked. It was none of his business about the boy's father, anyway, so he wasn't going to ask about him. And he didn't even care.

"Kevin." Her smile was both shy and sparkling.

His chest tightened. Kevin, he knew, was one of the most loved children in the world. "What's he like?" The words came out and only after saying them he realized he wanted to know.

"He's… He's Kevin." She laughed. "He asks a million questions and will talk to anyone about anything. He's high energy but has laser focus when it's something that interests him – Like the other day I took him to the park. I expected him to be running around and trying out all the swings and stuff, but he spent an hour crawling in the grass following a caterpillar."

"Laser focus can be good at times," Max told her, earning a warm smile.

"I know. He comes by it honest because I do the same thing when I'm working."

"Will you be bringing him to the races?" Finished with his pizza, he shook his head when she nudged the box towards him and sat back to finish his water.

"Yeah. Not all of them, but to the next few. I already talked to Mr. Horner and Wanda about it," she said quickly, as though expecting him to be upset about her bringing her child to work. "He won't be in the way. My best friend – Ellie, she's his godmother – is traveling with me to Imola and Monaco to watch him for me. But her new job starts the first of June so I have to make arrangements before then."

"Does he like racing?"

"He's three," she deadpanned. "He loves anything with cars or trucks."

"You'll have to bring him to the track—"

"He also loves fart jokes and bugs."

Max blinked at her, snorting on a laugh when she grinned at him. "Fair enough."

"I do have to warn you, though," she said carefully, standing to gather the napkins and throw them into the trash. Closing the pizza box, she used a clean napkin to wipe off the desk. "He likes McLaren."

"It's the orange livery isn't it?" Max sighed. When she nodded, he shrugged. "I'll do my best to not hate him."

She giggled, letting out a snort.

And, for the first time in six months, Max felt lighter.

*-*

"There's my lil doodle bug," Viv cooed as Kevin leapt off the couch and ran towards her. Dropping her purse and work bag, she scooped him into a hug. "Hi sweetheart. How was your day, hm?"

Her son grinned, squeezing her tight. "I fell in poop!"

Viv froze for two seconds and leaned back a little. "What kind of poop?"

"Dog. Yes, it was fresh. Yes, he had a bath. Yes, I washed his clothes," Ellie announced as she came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "Your dinner's almost done – How was work?"

Viv kissed her son's cheek and set him down so she could pick up her bags. "I spent the day reading protocols and policies and signing contracts. Oh, and getting my uniform."

Ellie took the knapsack stuffed with team shirts and jackets. "Good thing you love blue huh?"

"No kidding." She glanced over to Kevin, who had climbed back onto the couch and resumed lining his hot wheels along the back. "How was he today?"

"He was fine. You worry too much, mama," Ellie said gently, following y/n to her bedroom. Setting the knapsack down, she took the work bag and reached inside to switch off y/n's work phone. "Ah, ah, you're off now. You don't officially start work until Monday, so they can't expect you to be on call."

"Yes ma'am." Y/n held her hands up in surrender. "I'm gonna change and get him tucked in then I'll eat, promise."

"Perfect. Bridgerton tonight?" Ellie asked on her way out the door.

"You know it!" y/n called after her.

Once she'd changed into sweats and an old t-shirt she went to the living room. "C'mon, doodle bug," she said softly, smiling when Kevin slid off the couch without hesitation. She helped him pack his cars into their cubby, telling him about her boring day at work while she led him to the bathroom so he could brush his teeth. Then to her bedroom, wishing she had been able to afford a larger apartment so he could have his own space. But he didn't seem to mind, and more often than not he ended up crawling into her bed during the night. Something she treasured, because she knew that all too soon he would be "too big" to share a bed with his mama.

Three storybooks and a rambling made up tale about a one-eyed dragon and the princess that saved him from the evil knight later, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and turned off the light. "Good night, sweetheart. Sweet dreams," she whispered before she left the room.

"So I met Max Verstappen today," she told Ellie a few minutes later while fixing her drink.

"Ooo Mr Tu Tu Du Du himself?"

Y/n snorted. "Yeah, that one." The chicken alfredo with a side of broccoli looked so much more appetizing than the greasy pizza she'd had for a late lunch, and she almost felt like she'd cheated on her best friend for ordering takeout.

"What's he like?" Ellie asked, scooping a little more sauce over the noodles.

"He's nice."

"Just nice?"

"I mean, he asked me surface level questions and laughed at my lame jokes? Yeah, nice." Y/n pulled her plate away before Ellie could push more food onto it and sat down to eat. "Everyone's been so nice, Ellie…"

Her friend squeezed her shoulder. "I'm so glad. I have good news, too."

Y/n lifted her eyebrows, unable to speak because her mouth was full.

Ellie sat down, smiling brightly. "I spoke to HR today and Kev will be able to use the daycare."

Gulping down her mouthful of food, y/n gasped. "Oh that's great!" she cried, feeling the weight of worry that had been plaguing her for three weeks lift. "They're sure?"

"Yep, you just have to come in with me before the first and sign a document giving me permission to take him from the premises."

"Excellent, we can go in the morning? I have to go in after lunch to get my kit. Camera, laptop, all that. And Wanda told me to get more shirts so I don't have to worry about laundry while on the road – Oh and I'll be getting our passes."

"Kevin is so excited about Italy. He wants to see the leaning tower of pizza."

"Bless his heart, maybe I can take him one day."

Plans made, she finished her late dinner and did the washing up then changed into her pajamas before settling on the couch to watch Bridgerton. They were rewatching the series so she didn't feel guilty about scrolling her social media, finally biting the bullet and following all of the RedBull people she knew from headquarters.

"You are the bane of my existence… and the object of all my desires."

"Ugh," Y/N and Ellie whined in unison.

"So much nicer than you've had me hard since we met," y/n muttered.

"Let's be real, practically anything is better than that," Ellie agreed.

They finished the episode and y/n headed to bed, keeping as quietly as possible even though she knew her son could sleep through anything. Digging her work phone from her bag, she powered it on to check for any missed messages, smiling slightly when she saw Max had added her on WhatsApp. Adding him back, she was about to turn the phone off again when a new message popped up.

👋🏻

Rolling her eyes, she replied with the same emoji and waited a few seconds before plugging the phone in and turning on do not disturb. She wasn't going to have a late night chat with Max Verstappen of all people. He was probably just being nice, she told herself as she brushed her teeth and did her skincare. Wanda had told her that Max added everyone but rarely messaged anyone aside from Mr. Horner or the engineers.

Besides, she wasn't there to make friends, she reminded herself as she climbed into bed. She could be friendly, but she was there to do a job.

And no flirting with him either, she thought, immediately wondering why the idea had popped into her mind. She would never – okay, she might, if unintentionally. She knew it was a protective thing, knew it was because she had the undesirable need to have everyone like her. But she couldn't do it. Not with him, especially. He'd probably laugh in her face. He was younger than her and probably had a never ending line of gorgeous women waiting to please him.

Before she switched off the lamp she glanced over at her sleeping son. A living, breathing, very real reminder of what she'd gone through just four years ago. And she knew she couldn't go through that again. She wasn't strong enough. She refused to endure that torture and heartache. Kevin needed her, so she had to be strong for him.

Not to mention there was a no hanky-panky clause in her contract?

She had barely closed her eyes when she heard his toddler bed creak. Lying there, she listened to his feet whispering against the rug, smiling in the dark when he slowly slid the covers back.

"Mama," he whispered, and she reached for him. He snuggled close, tucking his head under her chin as she pulled the covers over them.

"Love you, sweetheart," she murmured, pressing a kiss into his hair.

"Love you, Mama."

*-*

"I think it's good, yeah," Max said, eyes scanning the screens of data from the upgrades. "It'll be great for turn seven." Nodding, he listened to the engineers as they went over potential upgrades for Monaco. Once the meeting was finished he grabbed his water bottle and left the room, ignoring the almost immediate phone call from his father. He knew it was his dad without checking, and strode down the hall, intent on leaving and heading straight for the airport to go home. Where he could ignore everything and everyone until Sunday when it was time to fly to Italy.

Rounding the corner, he lurched to a stop as a small child darted in front of him, his giggles echoing down the corridor. The little boy stopped and looked up at Max, blinking slowly.

"Hi!" He waved.

"Hello." Max heard rapid footsteps and glanced up to see y/n iquickly approaching.

"Kevin Scott—"

"I've got him," Max told her with a quick wave, squatting down to the boy's level. "So you're Kevin?"

The boy nodded, light blonde curls bouncing on his head. "I'm Kevin. That's Mama."

"I'm Max. I heard a lot about you."

Kevin's eyes widened. "You know Mama?"

"About this much." Max held his thumb and index finger barely a centimeter apart. He quickly looked to y/n, who was walking up behind Kevin. "I work with her."

"Ohh… She's gonna take me to see cars. D'you like cars Mister Max?" he asked seriously. As though cars were the most important thing in the universe.

"More than I like myself some days," Max quipped, reaching to check the miniature car the boy was holding in his hand. "I drive one like this."

Kevin gasped. "Do you got it here?"

Max chuckled. "We have a lot. Do you want to see them?"

"Please," the boy said, and Max couldn't have said no under any circumstances.

"You have to ask your mum," he said gently. "And maybe say sorry for running away from her?"

Kevin immediately turned to his mother. "Mama I sorry. Can Mister Max take me to cars?"

She sighed, squatting down to fix his shorts. "We've gotta be more careful, sweetheart. And yes, Mister Max can take us to see the cars."

Kevin spun to face Max again. "She said yes!"

Grinning, Max nodded and stood.

"Thank you," y/n said softly. "I'm sor—"

"He's three, yeah?" Max reached to place his hand on the boy's head, gently guiding him closer when he started to wander off. "Don't apologize for him being a child."

She tipped her head at that, then nodded, grabbing hold of Kevin's hand as Max turned to lead them back down the hallway he'd just left. "I only came by to get my kit, and his aunt had paperwork at her new workplace to finish up, so I had to bring him."

"I'm glad you did." Max gave her a gentle smile, using his card to open the door leading to the back of headquarters. "Have you been back here?"

"Only on my tour the other day."

"Just stick with me," he said. They wouldn't be entering the engineer or design areas, only taking the corridor to the garage. Otherwise they'd have to travel all the way to the main entrance and walk around to the back, which would be tedious for her son.

"I'm under contract and signed an NDA, and it's not like I'd know where to go to sell team secrets," she told him. "And I wouldn't even know what I overheard."

"Not a car fan?" he asked, accepting the model car Kevin was shoving at him. Slipping it into his pocket, he guided them along the curving corridor.

"Eh… Kinda? I like racing. I don't understand all the mechanics to it, I just like the adrenaline of watching twenty guys drive really fast. And I can admire good craftsmanship, like a Bugatti or a McLaren, ya know?"

"What do you drive?" Max asked, using his card to open the door to the garage. Met with the faint aroma of rubber and asphalt, he inhaled deeply, catching with it a lighter, more pleasant scent.

"Nothing at the moment. I've been taking an Uber to and from the apartment," she explained. "I'll probably get a used car after my first paycheck."

Max furrowed his brows, stopping on the catwalk. "You haven't gotten paid yet?"

"No? Well, only my signing bonus, and that's gone to household necessities like rent and food. It's fine, Max, I don't need a car right now."

What are you going to do, give her one of yours? he thought, reaching to Kevin and lifting the boy to his hip so he could carry him down the stairs to the main level. Kevin was already oohing and aahing over the neat rows of cars. "It's just me, Brandon," he called, seeing the member of the security team at the other end of the garage. "A quick tour for a new friend, yeah?"

Brandon waved and disappeared around the corner.

At the bottom of the stairs, Max set Kevin down, ushering him to the nearest car. The boy's excitement was contagious, and Max gleefully told him about each one that he'd driven, helping the boy climb into each and press buttons on the steering wheel. Laughing when Kevin made racecar noises, he pulled out his phone to pull up some videos for sound effects. Swiping away the notifications from his dad, he turned up the volume so the engine sounds echoed in the garage, enjoying Kevin's childish glee.

"This one you know," he said, guiding him to the most recent addition. Lifting him into the seat, he squatted down. "This is a car I drove last year, which—" He pulled the model car from his pocket and set it on top of the steering column. "—is just like the one you have."

"Wow." Kevin looked at him with pure awe. "Did you win?"

"I did. And I won the championship too."

"You're a champ-een, Mister Max?" the boy gasped.

"I am."

"Like Lightning McQueen?"

"You could say that," he chuckled, affectionately ruffling the boy's curls. Glancing over at y/n, he paused when he saw she was holding up her phone.

She peered at him over the top. "Is it okay to take pictures?"

"Of course." He had a feeling she'd already taken dozens. He stepped out of the way so she could get photos of Kevin in the car, then lifted him out once she tucked her phone away. "Have you seen the trophies?"

"No. Can we see 'em, Mister Max? Please?"

"You have to ask your mum." Turning, he sent y/n a pleading look as Kevin asked permission.

"As long as Mister Max doesn't mind," she said, rolling her eyes when Kevin squealed yay.

"It's a long walk, do you want me to carry you?"

Kevin squirmed, wriggling so he was piggybacking. "Thank you Mister Max."

His chest tightened, and he reached to adjust the boy's legs around his middle. "You're welcome, Kevin. We do have to make a stop on the way to the trophy case, though."

Next to him, y/n cleared her throat. "I can take him if you've got something to do."

"No, it's fine, a quick stop," Max assured her, motioning for her to go up the stairs first.

"A pit stop?" Kevin asked, giggling as Max jogged up the steps.

"Exactly that. No more than ten seconds," he promised.

Fifteen minutes later, he was squatting down to fix the collar of Kevin's new shirt. "There you go, mate. What do you think?"

Kevin grinned and gave him a thumb's up.

Max looked up at y/n, who rolled her eyes. "He has to be Team Red Bull," he explained with a shrug, adjusting Kevin's new cap with a grin. Thanking the merch manager, he handed over the bag of goodies he'd grabbed and motioned for Kevin to climb onto his back.

"Thank you!" Kevin called, waving enthusiastically as he was carried out.

"Thank you, Max," y/n murmured while they walked towards reception. "But please don't get him anything else."

"I won't," he said softly. "If I overstepped—"

"No, no, it's fine. He'll wear the shirts until they're too small and he'll play with the models until they fall apart. I just don't want him to think he'll get this type of treatment all the time."

"I understand." He nodded. She didn't want her son to be spoiled. Which he found admirable. "…So giving him one of my old cars is out of the question?"

She halted, jaw dropping. "Max!"

"A joke!" he promised, flashing her a grin as he jogged ahead.

"Not funny," she scoffed behind him, and he heard her huff as she ran to catch up. "Those things cost probably a million—"

Max swung around, easily catching Kevin and swinging him back onto his back. "The car for Miami was about sixteen million."

Her eyes widened. "Sixteen—" She pressed her hands together right in front of her mouth. "Million? As in sixteen then six zeroes behind it?"

Nodding, he started walking backwards, amused at her reaction. She was staring at him in shock, and her son was giggling. "It's hard to pinpoint an exact cost, because we reuse some components from race to race. A chassis, or wings, yeah? If you really wanted to know I can pull up the data and get the price for each part—"

"No," she said, shaking her head slowly. "Please don't. I'd probably faint."

"It's an expensive sport, y/n," he reminded her.

"Yeah no shit," she muttered, exhaling harshly. "I've got so much to learn."

"You'll be fine." He'd meant it to come out in an offhand manner. A generic it's okay so feelings wouldn't be hurt. But it came out gently, laced with reassurance and promise. And, before he could stop himself, his mouth opened again. "If you have any questions you can ask me."

"I can Google," she told him.

"I can change my Wikipedia to say I'm eighty-six. Doesn't make it true," he quipped.

To his relief, she laughed. "Fair point. I'll be sure and ask you."

He turned his attention back to Kevin, swinging him from his back to his hip. Reception was empty, and he set the boy down so he could explore the various displays. "He can't hurt anything," he reassured her, knowing she was watching carefully as Kevin ran over to a wing displayed on the wall.

"I just worry," she sighed.

"Why do you sound like you're apologizing?" Folding his arms over his chest, he watched Kevin walk around the large room, drinking it all in. "You're his mother, you're supposed to worry. If you didn't you would have to apologize."

"Thank you."

"He's a good kid, y/n," he said softly.

"I think so too." He could hear the smile in her voice and turned slightly to see it on her face.

Every other time he'd been in this room the weather outside had been cloudy or rainy. He couldn't remember the sun ever shining as he'd stood there to soak in all the history. Until now. It poured through the windows, causing the trophies in the cases to sparkle and the polished floor to gleam. It shone into her eyes, and he could only stare at her as she squinted a little, a tiny dimple appearing in her left cheek.

God, she was lovely.

She glanced at him and his breathing kickstarted. Unconsciously licking his lips, he cleared his throat. "You seem to be doing well, for a single mom."

Her smile faltered and he mentally kicked himself. She looked to Kevin, who was studying the Red Bull logo on the wall, and looked at Max again. "I didn't have a choice."

"I'm sorry," he said automatically.

"Oh he's not dead." She watched her son, her smile gone. "Just dead to us."

"Then I'm sorry for bringing it up." It had ruined the day. Well, alright, not the day but the moment. They'd been having fun, he'd been having fun.

You always fuck up don't you?

His jaw clenched as the angry voice from years ago echoed in his mind.

"It's okay, Max." Her gentle voice cut through the echoes of the past and he forced his jaw to relax.

Nodding, he uncrossed his arms and called to Kevin, taking him by the hand and leading him to the towering trophy case. "Come on, y/n, time to learn some history."

She snorted on a laugh but joined them, and he could tell she was paying attention as he rattled off years and races and drivers to Kevin.

You're going to fuck this up too, the voice sneered.

#f1 #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #my writings > mv > rulebreaker

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annewithaneofthegreengable · 18 hours

Text

Mr Long Legs and Ms Pocket Size

Summary: Toto loves that his girlfriend has to cling to him like a koala whenever she wants to kiss him. OR how Y/n has to constantly pull off the highest heels just to stand next to her “giant” boyfriend.

A/N: I will add a small smau right below so stay tuned u guys!

Toto and his girlfriend, who he lovingly calls his 'short stack,' wake up every day with a smile on their faces. They start their day with a kiss, normally she would have to hold onto him just to give him a peck on the lip. As they go about their morning routine, Toto can't help but grin as he watches her attempt to reach things on high shelves, which is often caused by him because he often teases her by placing things on the top shelf that are out of her reach, knowing she would have to call him for the help.

“Damn you and your heights, who would put their everyday mugs on the highest place on the cupboard!”

“It’s not that high, Schatz. Look! It’s very much reachable. Well, compared to my size of course. Here you go.”

“New information, in case you don’t know… I am not your size”

“I’m pretty much aware of that, you are rather pocket-size, Liebe.”

His girlfriend playfully rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You know very well I'm not as tall as you, you oversized giant," she said with a hint of amusement.

"But I guess being so towering has its downside. You're constantly losing things behind the cabinets and on top of the fridge. I suppose height isn't everything." Toto chuckled, wrapping his arm around her waist.

"Height has its benefits, especially when it comes to pulling pranks on my short stack girl," he said while kissing her neck.

“Have you grown? Liebe.”

“Just for today, so pretty much yes.” Y/n grins then lifts her shoe high enough to reveal heels that make Toto’s jaw drop a little before he begins laughing hysterically.

“Gotta pull off these bad bitches right here so that the press can take a picture with both of us without cutting your legs out of the frame.”

“There’s no way you’re gonna survive the whole day with those on.”

“Watch me! Toto.”

“Please! For the sake of me, just wear something flatter, like trainers, or your flats.”

“Nope.” She said with the sound pop “p”.

Y/n is well aware that Toto enjoys the benefits of such a height gap, but it's enjoyable to tease him about being able to close the space on occasion.

"Shall we go?" Y/n asks making Toto sigh looking down at her feet again before nodding.

“If you ever feel any sort of discomfort please come to me right away. Yes? Liebe”

“Alright, Mr Long Legs”

Y/n confidently struts towards the door with Toto trailing behind her. As they step inside the paddock, they are immediately greeted by a swarm of press and fans clamouring to catch a glimpse of the famous couple. Toto watches in amazement as Y/n effortlessly strikes a series of poses, her confidence and poise perfectly fitting the larger-than-life persona she had adopted for the day. Despite her high heels, she didn't falter and instead embraced the spotlight with grace, leaving Toto in awe of her confidence and charisma. He also couldn't help but feel a little nervous at the idea of her wearing such high shoes all day, but his girlfriend was determined to make a statement.

“Someone is a bit taller today?” Lewis said chuckling.

“Yes, Lewis. I’m even at your head level today. Still not quite George’s height but one step at a time, right?”

“Impressive… But I prefer the tiny boss to be tiny. Because those heels can break your toes or something.”

“It’s quite hurtful now but don’t you dare tell Toto. I’m trying to stay above a little longer today. Maybe till the race ends, then I will take it off.”

“Promise?”

“Swear on my toes, Lewis. Now get in the car. “

As Toto listened to Y/n's exchange with Lewis, he couldn't help but feel a pang of worry deep in his chest, with a little pang of jealousy as he heard Lewis make the comment about preferring her to be tiny, but he quickly pushed it aside. In his eyes, his girlfriend was perfect no matter her height. He knew how determined and fierce she could be, but the thought of her hurting herself in those towering shoes left him feeling uneasy. As Lewis walked away, Toto approached Y/n with a small frown, as he gently lifted her foot and carefully removed her heeled shoes, he couldn't help but notice the slight tension in her expression. He could tell she was disappointed that her attempt to be "taller" had come to an abrupt end. But he knew that her safety and well-being were his top priority, and he wasn't willing to risk her getting injured just for the sake of appearing taller. As he lowered her feet back to the ground, Toto looked up at her with a mixture of concern and affection "You know," he began, his tone tender, "you're perfect just the way you are, Liebe. Whether you're towering in those shoes or not." He gently ran a hand up her slender leg, his touch affectionate. "I don't care one bit about your height. I just want you to be safe and comfortable. That's all that matters to me."

Y/n couldn't help but soften at Toto's words, her disappointment at having to remove the heels fading in the warm glow of his affection. "I know," she replied, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. She reached down to brush a stray lock of hair out of his eyes, her touch gentle. "I just wanted to stand a bit taller for a change, you know? But I understand where you're coming from." She gave him a grin. "Next time, perhaps I will try on some wedges platform?”

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, georgerussell63 and others

y/n_user: Can someone tell him to give me some of his height?

mercedesamgf1 we will try tiny boss

y/n_user Thanks admin! I appreciate ur help lewishamilton Can u tell him to save some for me also! Much needed it y/n_user Go find ur own! This is mine already

user_1 Mrs Long Legs now

user_2 Those shoes could kill

user_3 Can u save some for Yuki too

y/n_user Noted user_4 Tell Yuki to take it from his bf gasly

lilymhe Pretty heels for ma wifey

y/n_user Stop it wifey they're killlinggg meee lilymhe U can always sit on my lap wifey mercedesamgf1 Please stop calling my missus your wifey - toto user_1 the boss has joined the chat mic drop

user_5 Not toto using the company acc

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, georgerussell63 and others

y/n_user photo dump and date night with my Mr Long Legs and he calls me his Ms Pocket Size so screw the heels

user_2 She looks so good!

user_3 THEY ARE THE POWER COUPLE!!

user_1 Dear mr future husband pls take note

lilymhe love you beautiful!

user_6 ATE and left NO CRUMBS

lewishamilton gorgeous - toto wolff

lewishamilton i don’t have instagram - toto wolff

y/n_user pls give lewis his ig acc back old man!

user: nOt the sign off by toto himself 😭😭

mercedesamgf1: finest couple ever! 😮‍💨

user admin— you’re so real for this omg user admin knows what’s up user can toto fight? user can’t fight for a championship that’s for sure

mercedesamgf1 the boss says you’re gorgeous

user GIVE THIS PERSON A RAISE FOR THEIR HARD WORK mercedesamgf1 so true

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igotanidea · 2 days

Text

3 minutes: Jason Todd x reader

Warnings: SMUT MDNI! swearing

***

Hey Jason, can I ask you something?

Y/N and Jason were cuddling and kissing on the couch, things started to become a little heated and then, out of the sudden, she got into a questioning mood.

Obviously, Jason wasn’t exactly content with the unexpected shift, but gritting his teeth and fighting the urge to just continue with the steamy make out session, he nodded with the calm expression on his face.

If only she knew how much it took from him to keep it.

“Sure thing, babe. What’s on your mind?”

“Which girl would you prefer: a skinny, pretty and a little sad, shy one or a little heavier, sassy, funny and energetic one?”

“Well…” he muttered, considering the answer. He was going to be as honest as possible without hurting Y/n’s feelings. “While I suppose initially a pretty girl would get my attention I do like when there’s more depth to people. And sassy humor is pretty much essential for me?”

“Was that a question or an answer?” she teased, catching up with his hesitant tone.

“Don’t you know me? I think that by now you should realize that looks are not everything.”

“Duh!” she chuckled, kissing the tip of his nose playfully “Did you think I was with you cause you are handsome?” she repeated her action “Cause you are not.” The seriousness of her tone was bellied by a grin. “At all.”

“Oh really? And here I thought I was your personal male supermodel.” He laughed wholeheartedly pushing her away as she teased him. “But hey, it’s on the inside what counts. And when it comes to that – you got plenty going on.”

“So I’m like your kinder joy?”

“That’s actually quite an accurate description. Sweet on the inside if you are patient enough to tear through the foil.”

“Wow. Um- I didn’t actually expect you to use such an illustrative comparison….”

“Yeah, that’s me.” He smirked with a face full of complacency. Always in your corner when you are feeling down.”

“Thank you… I guess I’ve been feeling a little insecure lately. Except not the little. And not lately.”

“Good thing you got me here then, huh? Now can we please forget about that and focus on us?”

“Mh. Where were we then?” she whispered seductively leaning forwards brushing her lips over his softly.

“Right where we belong.” He responded by pulling her to him, kissing passionately, trailing lips down her neck, feeling the heat rise again.

“Yeah… Yeah, I think I’m starting to remember something…”

“What do you remember, baby?” Jason whispered against her skin, caressing her shoulder, pulling the strap of her top down.

“Something good…” she hummed, closing eyes and letting him continue his ministrations “Something so good…”

“Care to share?” In a blink of an eye she was laying on the couch on her back, Jason’s hands moving over her belly “or would you rather keep it a secret?” he leaned down nipping at her earlobe.

“Isn't it exciting to know that there are some things that stay just between us...?” She moaned softly, tilting her head and caressing his chest.

“Definitely.” Jason nuzzled his nose into her chest, inhaling her scent “Just you and me having something special.” Once more he captured her lips, tangling fingers in her hair, keeping her head in place, not that she was going anywhere.

The soft sigh that left her lips only aroused him more when he rolled on his back, pulling her with him so she was on top, straddling him.

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way, princess.”

She laid on top of him, her full body weight pressing him into the mattress, tracing hands down his sides, reaching for the hem of his T-shirt. The effect was almost immediate. Jason arched into her touch, his cock hardening at the feel of her fingers on his bare skin.

“You drive me crazy…” he grabbed her waist and pulled her closer, grinding against her, though still in clothes. Regardless, the undeniable need for friction was too much to just lay still. “But I wouldn’t want anyone else doing it to me…”

“I sure as hell hope you wouldn't...” She kissed his neck, grinding her hips on him as well.

“Fuck, I don’t even want to imagine another woman-“ he gripped her hips, continuing the movement.

“Don’t ever mention another woman when we’re together.” She almost hissed, cutting his sentence in the middle, biting on his neck, leaving a hickey and licking the stinging place.

There was no way to deny that her possessiveness and marking the territory attitude only turned him harder.

“I’m not planning on it.” He responded, tangling fingers in her hair, guiding her head lower on his neck. “Besides, I already got the only woman I need.”

“The only one you’ll ever need.” She corrected, raising her gaze on him.

“The only one I’ll ever need…” his tone was hoarse and sultry as he leaned to her again.

Being stopped with Y/N’s grip on his chin.

“Be a good boy and strip for me, will you?” She gave him a look full of fire that left him lost like a little puppy, ready to follow the orders of the owner.

“Well since you asked so nicely—” Y/N moved away from him to give him space to undress and the sudden loss of contact made him almost tear his clothes away. Anything to get her body against him again, not that he was going to let her win this. “But remember, baby, payback’s a bitch…”

“Well then, how about I make it up to you then?”

She slid down, standing on the bed foot, starting to take off her clothing piece by piece. Turning it into a sensual striptease. Tracing her body while removing her shirt, inch by painful inch. Shaking her hips while taking off the skirt. Bending down in a little provocative manner during the removal of her tights.

Almost daring him to make a move on her.

But Jason was hypnotized with her every gesture. Eyes wide with desire, hands clutching the sheets, wanting both to pin her underneath him and to watch this show forever. Evidence of his lust was obvious in his naked body, not that he would ever do much to hide it. If anything – the hardness was rather supposed to be exposed for her to lure her in.

Nonetheless, Y/N seemed to be lost in the world of her own, continuing her dance. Caressing and playing with her breast before unclasping the bra, sliding it off her body, freeing her chest from confinements, and finally -- sliding down her panties. The moment they both were waiting for, one more than the other.

“Fuck, Y/N…. You do know just how to turn me on, don’t you?”

In response, she crawled to the head of the bed, leaning on all fours, while searching for his lips.

“I can’t get enough of you…” his hands slid down her back, all the way to her butt, kneading the flesh there.

“That’s kind of the plan…” she pressed her chest to his torso, brushing over him like a wild feline, tracing kisses down his neck, unrestrained by anything.

“Yes, kitten… show me how you want me…” he slapped her ass playfully, one hand kept on palming her butt, while he used the other to start stroking himself.

“Oh now, you’re doing my job for me….?” With a gentle pat, she removed his fingers from his cock and wrapped her own around him.

“Fuck… fuck, Y/N, yes… keep doing that baby….” He groaned, closing eyes and moving against her hand. “Make me yours…”

“You’re going to be a good boy for me?” she stroked him harder, focusing her eyes on him.

“Yes, yes ma’am, I’ll be whatever you want, just don’t stop…”

“Don't worry my pretty baby... I’m not stopping any time soon...” She flicked her thumb over the head of his cock, gathering the pre cum and pulling it to her mouth, licking the droplets with the tip of her tongue.

“So goddamn hot…” Jason groaned from the back of his throat.

“You can touch me too, my little bird…” she whispered in his ear, sliding a little closer to him once more, making it more than obvious where she wanted his touch.

“Like that?” he cupped her breast, letting the familiar weight adjust to his hand. Squeezing and twisting her nipple in a way that made her squirm and gasp for air. The way he knew she liked.”

“Oh yes…”

“That’s right, kitten. You enjoy my touch, cause it’s the only one you’ll ever get for the rest of your life. You’re mine.”

“Fuck, I love it when you get a little possessive.” She placed her hands on his on her chest, showing him to touch her harder.

“And I love it when you get so vulnerable and open with me…”

“Oh I am open.” She smirked, hooking one leg over his hip, straddling him, but not taking in yet “I am so open. And so wet.”

“I can tell.” He grabbed her waist, trying to pull her down, kissing like a wild man, unable to stop even though she kept on pulling away from time to time. Purposefully. To leave him wanting and needy. “Don’t fucking do that, kitten.” He groaned chasing her lips, his tone both a threat and a pleading and with the sudden pressure on her body she knew she would be sporting bruises the other day. “You know exactly what you’re doing to me, don’t you>?”

“Yeah, I do. But don’t worry, I will abuse my power in all the pleasurable ways.” Y/n hummed lifting her hips, hovering mere inches over his shaft.

Jason’s eyes darkened with desire.

“Abuse me all you want. Just … don’t… fucking… stop… Please…”

“Oh my pretty boy... My heart is breaking seeing you hurting...” She slowly sank to his length. “Is it better now...?” She tenderly brushed hair from his sweaty forehead, observing his eyes falling closed feeling her wrapped around him like that.

“So much better…” he gasped, caressing her back, wanting so much more, but frozen in this moment. He buried face in his hair, breathing in her scent. The smell of her shampoo, the musky aroma of incoming sex and the individual one of her body. Irreplaceable. Hitting all his olfactory sensors, bringing out the feeling of home. She was his home. His everything. “Y/n….” he whispered “fuck…”

“Is it warm for my little bird?”

“Yeah, it’s getting warmer, all right. And most of that heat is because of you.” He nibbled on her neck, leaving love bites on the entire length.

“Cause I’m so hot?” she started rocking her hips on him

“You have no fucking idea.” He grabbed her waist and started thrusting forwards with almost extraordinary energy and enthusiasm. “And I fucking love it.”

As the unexpected force of his movement made her jump and stumble forwards, she instinctively reached for his shoulders to find balance and purchase.

“I got you kitten. Hold on tight.” He catches her easily, pulling her down on him easily, digging fingers into her flesh, guiding their movements together. “That’s right. Ride me, kitten.”

One of her hands rested on his shoulder blade, the other on his chest as she picked up the pace. She closed her eyes, throwing her head back, allowing him to control the movements of her hips while thrusting upwards. His eyes were focused solely on the way their bodies unite, making sure to his just the right spot inside her, to make her yearn, burn and shudder with need and pleasure. So fucking beautiful towering over him, lost in the tryst.

Just like him.

There was something erotic about the way she takes him inside to the halt, and then lets him out. Her body opening to him like a wild flower opens to the sun, allowing its warmth and love kisses to caress its petals.

That’s what she meant to him.

She was like a rose – beautiful but not helpless, with thorns.

Like a poppy – vibrant and standing out amongst other flowers on the meadow.

Like a cherry blossom – magical, soft to the touch but also so ephemeral and fragile if not looked after properly.

He was going to take care of her.

Forever.

“Jason…” she moaned, pressing his head into her chest, running fingers through his hair “Jason…” in the last surge of desire she grabbed his cheeks and looked straight into his eyes.

“Don’t ever stop Y/N—”

“Never-“ she gasped, not breaking eye contact for even a second, seeing the universe in his eyes. “Never-oh!”

As their climaxes approached and hit them like a tsunami wave, bringing the breath of freshness and coolness, but also threatening to wash them off the face of the earth, they held tightly to one another. Like she was his lifeline and he was her rock.

Just like in the biblical parable, that says you cannot build a house on the sand, Jason and Y/N were one’s another solid foundation. A base to build a house on.

For house is not a place, but a person.

Even when he fell back on the bed, exhausted and sweaty, facing the ceiling with mind reeling from love, pleasure and inexplicable need to lock her away from the world, his hold on her waist did not falter for a second. Only now, it was much more tender, softer, though still needy. The irony of the situation was truly textbook. She couldn’t be closer to him and yet, he was still missing her.

After a moment of heavy breathing she climbed off his lap (more like rolled off) and took the rightful spot on the side of the bed, which was hers by design. Even though they were both on their backs, their bodies found a way to one another as she reached for his hand entwining their fingers. Simple gesture, nothing really, and yet amongst lovers sharing true love, if that thing was to ever exist outside of novels, it meant everything.

After a moment, as on cue, they both rolled over to look into each other’s eyes.

“Hi.” She smiled cupping his cheek

“Hi yourself, kitten.” He responded by taking her wrist and kissing her knuckles softly.

“Did you know that statistically the round between couples lasts 3 minutes?”

“Way to ruin the mood with your nonsensical facts, Y/N!”

“it’s not nonsensical. I’m only saying that you are far more than stereotypical to me.”

“Because of how long I can last?” he raised an eyebrow incredulously, but it was quickly followed by a glint of amusement in his eyes. Despite everything he loved being praised on his performance skills.

“Because of everything-“ she whispered lovingly.

“Oh, stop now.” He grunted, pulling her to his chest, forcing her face down onto his skin so she wouldn’t notice the tears brimming in his eyes. “Otherwise I might think you love me or something.” A single tear escaped his eye at the feeling of being complete.

“I’d hate to implant false beliefs in your head.”

“That would be such a mess, right?”

“How about we keep on cleaning it together?” her soft voice reached his ears, serving as a counterpart for his feigned gruffness.

“Now that doesn’t sound so bad.” He smiled, pulling the covers on their entangled forms, allowing himself to fall asleep, knowing she was there to stay.

A comfort that made him feel warmer than under the blanket.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd smut #red hood smut #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x you

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puck-luck · 2 days

Text

give him six | trevor zegras

warnings: extreme domination. EXTREME domination. daddy kink because i do what i want. edging. spanking. cockwarming. at the same time. don’t worry about it. i do what i want. HINTS of anal play but they don’t actually do it. derogatory language (name calling…). crying during sex. sorry! spit kink. had to be done. subspace! ugh need a man to put me in that BAD bad pairing: trevor zegras x fem!reader summary/request: “thinking about trevor zegras needing to fuck his gf roughly after a tough game to let out his frustration bc i can sooooo see him being into that. but he’d always be looking out for u too, saying to tell him if it hurts and checking in to ask if she’s ok, but as soon as she assures him she is he’s just going absolutely nuts not holding back 🫠” wc: 4109

You don’t have to look at Trevor to see how angry he is. He lost a few weeks of hockey due to his broken ankle and now he was back– but he couldn’t make a fucking goal in a shootout to get the win for his team? The worst part was that his shot was denied not by the goalie, but by the post. By the fucking post.

Trevor loves to flaunt his accuracy in the backyard, in the practice rink, even when tossing trash into the garbage bin, but the one time he doesn’t mean to hit the post, the puck does? It’s idiocracy. It’s humiliating. He’s better than this. He knows it, you know it, the whole world knows it. But St. Louis got to celebrate tonight, and maybe if he hadn’t hit the damn post, then he’d be celebrating with his teammates instead of stewing in your bed.

His arms are crossed over his chest and the TV isn’t even on– you join him and want to laugh at the image of your pouty boyfriend wallowing in silence. You climb under the covers with Trevor.

“You did really well, Trev,” you compliment, settling into the mattress.

“We should’ve won,” he replies.

You sigh. “You can’t win them all.”

Trevor scoffs. “Yeah, well, we could’ve won this one,” he snaps.

You stare at him for a moment while his tone really sets in. “You don’t have to talk to me like that,” you say, your voice growing cold. “I wasn’t out on the ice with you.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He, at least, sounds the part. He covers his face with his hands, the heels of his palms pressed against his eyes. “I just– I’m so mad.”

You take a deep breath. You don’t have to be at work until 9 and it’s about five minutes away if you leave on time. You have to do the laundry tomorrow afternoon anyway. Trevor would feel better if you did this. You really wanted to sleep after the game tonight, but it would be a lie if you said you didn’t want to make him feel better. Another deep breath.

“Why don’t you take it out on me?” You ask.

Trevor looks over at you, surprise written all over his features. “Really?” He asks, like a child who was just told that he could have another candy before bed. “Like last time?”

Last time. You practically start salivating, thinking about how Trevor brought you to the edge and ripped you away from the cliff time after time, until you were sobbing and screaming and begging for a release.

“Yeah, like last time,” you agree, already a little absent. Trevor notices, of course he does, he’s more in tune with your body than you are at this rate.

A smile tugs on the corner of Trevor’s lips, but he ignores it.

“Hands and knees,” Trevor says. “Right in front of me.”

You position yourself accordingly.

Trevor smooths a hand over your behind, your shirt riding up and exposing your skin due to the position you’re in. You hadn’t worn anything else to bed– why would you? You and Trevor had been together for ages and you weren’t exactly new to his… post-loss coping mechanisms.

“Elbows,” Trevor corrects. His cock twitches when you immediately drop to your elbows, no hesitation in your movements. You’re silent, like he wants when you play like this, and you’ll do anything he says. You’re gorgeous like this, all spread out and listening to him with your head forward like a good girl, waiting for your next instruction.

You hear his voice over the thumping of your heart, although you’re not sure how. You’re always finding Trevor in the mess of everything.

“Bite the sheets,” Trevor commands, shimmying out of his boxers. You can hear him moving and you take the bedsheets in your mouth, the fabric almost immediately saturating with your saliva. “Close your eyes.” You slide your eyes shut and wait, your shaky breath filling the room and heating your face.

Something warm probes at your entrance and for a moment, you can’t tell if it’s Trevor’s fingers or his cock. The answer comes to you via a sharp spank on your left cheek, with Trevor’s left hand. He always fingers you with his left hand so that he can keep his right around your neck– the hand that’s currently kneading your other cheek.

He pushes his cock into you slowly, the movement more like he’s pulling you back than pushing you forward.

“Six shots,” Trevor muses, watching his cock disappear into you. “Six shots, and I didn’t make one.”

You bite back the reassurance, swallowing it. Trevor doesn’t want to hear it.

“Do you know how that feels?”

You don’t answer. He still doesn’t want to hear it.

“I’ll show you,” Trevor promises, his voice deceptively soft. His hand rests against your skin, heavy and present.

You get lost in the feeling easily, your mouth full of the comforter and your fingers twisted in the top sheet. Your eyes stay closed, the red-tinged darkness grounding you.

“Yeah, I’ll show you,” he repeats, his voice darker this time. “You’re going to understand exactly what it feels like to come so close six times, just for all of that to be taken away from you.”

Your eyes open at his words and you pale. You spit the covers out and break your silence. “Six times?” You ask, incredulous. “Trev.”

“Daddy,” Trevor corrects with a spank. “Unless that’s… not what we’re doing tonight?”

You clench down on his length at the contact and the name, your eyes rolling into the back of your head at the sound of his voice. Trevor is playing with you, teasing you. His fingers are walking all over you– the small of your back, your cheeks, down your crack all the way to where he’s buried inside of you… and it’s distracting.

You find yourself nodding. “It is.”

“Good,” Trevor says. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make the second and third ones quick, okay?”

His voice is full of condescension, like he knows you’re going to lose track of everything as soon as he starts hitting you. He’s right, but that’s neither here nor there.

For as long as you’d been dating Trevor, you’d never seen him tap into the mindset that he has on the ice off the ice. However, when he’s bringing his hand down on your ass, he gets pretty damn close.

His spanks are precise and powerful. He’s leaving pink handprints all over your skin, from the fleshy parts of your ass to the top of your thighs, even a few falls over the hole that he’s not occupying. Each flash of his hand leaves your skin burning and your hips inching upwards, begging for more. All of this, and he’s still inside you– the torture of the spanking is that he isn’t moving, and you’re not supposed to.

You lose track of the count, feeling your stomach flip with each slap. What starts as stinging pain turns into aching pleasure, and the sensations aren’t lost on Trevor.

He feels you jolt each time he brings his hand down on your skin, the clench of your pussy around his cock, the pounding of your pulse from inside of you. Trevor smirks and shifts his hips forward as he brings his hand down, his hand making contact with your asshole just as his tip nudges against your g-spot.

You wail, lurching under Trevor’s watchful eye. You fuck back on his cock once, only managing the movement one measly time, before Trevor stills you with a hand and slides out of you.

“No,” you breathe out, voice muffled by your makeshift gag.

“Yes,” Trevor replies, smug. “Isn’t it frustrating?”

You glare at him, turning so he can see the look on your face.

All it does is make him laugh. “Well, now I have to really punish you, don’t I?” He asks. “I can’t have my baby making angry faces at me.”

Trevor taps your hip, wordlessly telling you to move. You resume your original position next to him, expecting Trevor to tell you to put your “pretty little hand” on his cock and jerk him until he comes all over your freshly manicured fingers.

You don’t expect him to slide under the covers and hike up your shirt until your breasts are exposed. Trevor hooks a leg around yours, his mouth exhaling warm air onto your nipple. His fingers tap at your skin, one hand on your side and the other on your mound, making its way south.

“We’re going to do four like this,” Trevor tells you. His voice is merely a whisper, crawling over in your skin and raising goosebumps in its wake. “Just like this. I’m gonna take one,” he breathes, catching your nipple between his teeth for a split second before continuing. “Right here. Gimme one, baby, just from me licking your tits. I know you can.”

He dives in, tongue first. Your jaw drops as Trevor’s eyes close, the same way you know they do when you kiss him. It’s surreal, seeing him kiss and lick over your skin the way he normally does over your lips. His eyelashes flutter, the long, dark pieces of hair stealing your train of thought.

Trevor surprises you with how quickly he brings you to the edge again. He promised that the second and third would be quick, but you didn’t know just how quick he meant.

You let out a strangled gasp and your hand flies to Trevor’s hair when he opens his eyes and lets his adoring gaze fix on your face. You pull him off your chest, heaving breaths filling your lungs.

Trevor smirks, but it never quite reaches his eyes. The same look burns you, makes you shy under his gaze. You blush and look away, one of your hands covering the redness on your cheeks.

“Good,” Trevor remarks, a mere observation. “You got close, didn’t you, baby?”

You nod, still breathing heavily.

Trevor waits, expectant. He tilts his head down and blinks.

“Yes, Daddy,” you concede. “I was close.”

“Honest girl,” Trevor praises. His fingers dance over your slit. “Love you.”

“Love you,” you parrot back to him.

Trevor rewards you by pushing one finger into your heat, pumping it in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace.

Your breath stays shaky, your eyes never leaving Trevor’s. His finger drags along your walls, petting the inside of you with its pad, and you swear you can feel the ridges of his fingerprint inside of you if you focus enough.

It’s hard to focus on that when Trevor’s got his scrutinizing eyes on yours, though.

“What finger is it?” Trevor asks.

“What?” You stammer, finally blinking and breaking the trance.

Trevor’s other hand flies up to steady your chin before you can look down and ruin his game. “Which finger–” Trevor asks, curling it inside you. “–am I fucking you with?”

Your brain stalls. It’s a no-brainer, really, you should know each of Trevor’s fingers by feel alone with how often they make their way inside of you. However, you’ve been denied two orgasms already and Trevor is close to taking a third from you with just his smug stare.

“Come on,” Trevor goads. “You know which finger this is, baby. The faster you tell me, the faster I get you to your orgasm.”

“Yeah, the faster you take it away,” you reply.

Trevor’s eyes cloud over and he jams his finger inside you, increasing his pace. “Don’t be a bitch.”

You open your mouth to retort, but Trevor twists his finger inside of you.

“Unless you want me to fuck you like one,” he teases.

You clench down on Trevor’s finger, his middle finger you realize, when he utters those words.

“You like that?” Trevor asks, unnecessarily. He can feel how you feel about it. “You like the idea of me getting my cock in you and fucking you like a damn animal? What is it, baby? Is it the primal instinct of it all or just the fact that I’m disciplining you like you’re worth less than I am?”

You moan at his words, logical responses and formed sentences too far from you to grasp.

“Tell me.” Trevor nudges your g-spot and you arch your back, your hips grinding against his finger… just for him to draw it out of you. “Not so fast. We’ve still got three more to go.”

“I was close,” you complain.

“So was I,” Trevor counters. “Hurts, doesn’t it? When things don’t work out the way you want them to?”

“Trevor!” You frown, put off by his game.

“Well, now you’ve really done it,” Trevor growls, shoving two fingers inside of you and resting his thumb on your clit. “You know better than to call me by my name.”

You’re drenched in sweat and slick, so Trevor’s movements aren’t hindered in the slightest, not even when you squeeze your thighs shut. All Trevor does is push them open, trap your thigh under his bony knee. Somehow, even though you just had your legs spread, Trevor seems to push in further and rub your clit faster, hitting every right spot in alternating movements: clit, then g-spot, clit, then g-spot again. And over and over.

You don’t warn him this time, you don’t pull away. You try not to clench down, you try not to rock your hips, you try anything that might get you real relief from a real orgasm without Trevor noticing.

But it’s also a futile effort because your boyfriend knows you that well.

He withdraws his fingers just as your legs, the traitors, begin to tremble.

“Oh, baby, you didn’t think you’d get away with that, did you?” Trevor teases.

“Please,” you beg. “Please, Daddy.”

Trevor’s eyes flash with approval and he teases your entrance again, this time with a third finger. “Don’t worry,” he coos. “We’ve only got two more. Then I’ll let you come.”

You choke on your own spit when Trevor buries his three fingers inside of you, all in one motion. He doesn’t dawdle or stall for time. He doesn’t take advantage of the situation at hand– that you were already shaking for him and a pump of his fingers would give you away to the pleasure just on the other side of your approaching peak.

No, he doesn’t pump his fingers. He just wiggles them as deep as he can get them and smirks before dropping a kiss on your lips. He lowers himself then and blows cool air on your clit, spreading your folds with his other hand so the full bundle of nerves is revealed to him. He leans in and captures it with his tongue, lightly sucking on the bundle. It’s not the most friction he’s ever given you, but it’s consistent. He builds you up on his tongue, slowly, so slowly.

And when your thighs close around his head, he stops. You’re aching for a release, tears building along your waterline. Your refractory period is shrinking with each near-orgasm, your babbles begging for Trevor to do something.

“I need it,” you beg, but the words feel more like a scream with how heavy they sit on your chest.

“Oh, I know you need it,” Trevor replies, tone mocking. “You need it so bad, you’re acting up. Talking back, not using my name, not answering my questions, trying to trick me so that you can get an orgasm. I ought to leave you like this, really show you what it’s like to be left frustrated after a disappointing performance.”

“No,” you whimper. “No, Trevor, that’s too much.”

It’s not your word, it’s not a cry of pain, but it still gives Trevor pause.

“Need me to be sweet to you?” Trevor asks, his eyes genuine and his hair wild from your wandering grasp.

You whine, arching your back. Trevor smiles fondly, but bats you away. When your back makes contact with the mattress again, Trevor’s deft fingers pinch your nipple and cause you to arch up a second time. He pushes you back down.

“Slut,” Trevor chastises. “Think you can distract me with your tits? This isn’t amateur hour, baby. I’ve still got to steal one orgasm from you.”

You blanch at that, your eyes wide. You take in every detail of his face, panting. There isn’t anything you could say that could stop him, except your word, but you’d rather curl into a ball and die than stop this right now. The words don’t come to you to tell him to continue, though.

“I’m going to get you so close,” Trevor whispers, his face close to yours. He leans down and kisses your neck. You arch into him, your once-useless hands finding his sides. You feel over the muscle there, his lean waist and strong chest. “You’re going to be right there, baby, and then I’m going to take it all away.”

“Please,” you repeat, but it’s indecipherable whether you’re begging Trevor to let you come or begging Trevor to leave you wanting more.

“Yeah,” Trevor agrees, sliding his three fingers back into your wet cunt.

You moan sharply at the intrusion, pumping deep into you this time and dragging along your walls in a torturous way. It feels so good, it has you seeing white specks when you manage to open your eyes and look at Trevor. His eyes are trained on your cunt, watching your wetness seep all over his fingers. When you push his hair out of his face, his eyes lift to meet yours.

His pupils are blown wide with lust and he’s got a snarl rumbling from deep in his chest. It is primal, you realize, the way he’s bullying his fingers into your cunt without a thought about what you can or can’t handle. He’s taking you, the way that you’ll only ever allow him to do.

“Gonna come?” Trevor asks, the evil smirk overtaking his face again.

“Please,” you beg again.

“‘Please,’” Trevor mocks. “Is that the only word you know?”

He pulses his hand, his fingers bouncing off your walls and causing you to jolt and scramble to find something to hold onto. That something ends up being Trevor’s hair and the pillow to your side. Your chest is heaving again, your nipples taut and pointed and begging to be touched.

As Trevor’s eyes trail down your body at a snail’s pace, you can feel your orgasm approaching. You yank his hair and he winces, bringing his hand to your neck and squeezing in retaliation.

“Daddy,” you wheeze, the edge of your vision growing fuzzy and dark. It’s the only warning you can give Trevor as the cliff starts to crumble below you, as you start to fall away into the orgasm that was denied from you for so long.

And when Trevor pulls his fingers out of you, he yanks you back onto solid ground.

And, unsurprisingly, you start to cry.

It’s not pretty, either. It’s not a tear here and there when you’re deepthroating your boyfriend, or the beautiful running of mascara as he fucks your face at some hockey event. No, this is full-on sobbing, gut-wrenching cries that have Trevor taking inventory of all the things he did to you, wondering if he pushed you too far. He rubs your thighs with both of his hands in a soothing motion, ignoring the glistening precum that he’s inadvertently rubbing into your skin.

“Baby,” Trevor murmurs.

You sob and raise your arms, needing him to hold you. Trevor’s face softens immediately and he pulls you into his chest, turning so he’s sitting with his back against the headboard and you’re awkwardly dangling half on his lap, half off. You keen into his neck, burying your face in his soft, tan skin.

“My girl,” Trevor whispers, rubbing your arms now and pulling you closer to him, comforting you with his warmth. “You’re perfect.”

“Daddy,” you whisper into his neck. “Please.”

Trevor tilts your head back and looks into your eyes. His gaze looks sad, meeting your own, red and puffy. “Please what, baby?”

“I need your cock,” You plead, petting over his stomach with a hand that feels like its made of static. “I need you to make me come, Daddy.”

Trevor groans, sounding pained. He twitches beneath you. “Like this?” He asks.

You nod, losing your words again. It’s a timid but vehement nod, needing Trevor to press inside you more than anything, but not knowing if you could handle another ruined orgasm.

“Please, let me come this time,” you say, trying to look as pathetic and needy as you can. With big doe eyes like this, Trevor has always been bad at denying you the things you want.

“Yeah, I think I’ve tortured you enough,” Trevor agrees, reaching under you and pressing his cockhead against your entrance. “Give me a bounce, baby. Wanna see your tits jump in front of my face, yeah?”

Trevor snakes his hands around to grab your bottom, his fingers tight against the skin. He uses his leverage to bounce you for him, knowing that you don’t have control over your movements as fucked out as you are, and he’d hate to see you cry more because you’re mad at yourself for not moving the way he wanted you to.

He lifts you up and down, snapping his hips up to meet yours when they fall. His eyes flicker between your boobs and your face, the teartracks drying over your cheeks as you allow yourself to be consumed by ecstasy. One of Trevor’s hands flies upward, tracing over your skin until he threads it between the strands of your hair. Once his whole hand is enveloped in your roots, he tugs and your mouth falls open.

Trevor leans forward and directs a glob of spit down your throat, his forceful hawk causing his spit to find the back of your throat.

You convulse on top of him, trembling under his watchful gaze and his warm cock. “Daddy,” you pant, feeling like you’re burning and drowning in your desire for him. Trevor slips his thumb into your mouth as you come and you suck on it like a child, grinding against him through your aftershocks.

You’re floating on air by the time your aftershocks cease and Trevor pulls out of you gently, grasping his cock in his fist. He’s watching you and you’re watching him. Never breaking eye contact, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out.

Trevor presses his tip to your tongue and strokes his cock, squeezing on the downstroke and groaning curses with each turn of his hand. He comes just seconds later, his white ropes of come gracing your tastebuds. He pulls away after only a few drops intersect with your tongue, continuing to come in spurts over your cheeks, lips, and nose. A bit of come drips down the tip of your nose and you poke your tongue out again to try and catch it, which makes Trevor laugh.

Still lost in your post-orgasm haze, you barely notice when Trevor leaves the bed and comes back with a moist towel. He wipes your face, then your thighs and pussy, dropping a kiss on your lower belly after he’s finished. You let out a breath at that, not knowing that you were holding it, astounded by the fragility and intimacy of the moment.

“Daddy,” you say out loud, mostly just to yourself. Mostly just to feel the word on your tongue, feel it take its shape in your mouth. It sounds like awe.

Trevor deposits the towel in the hamper across the room with a toss, proving yet again that his precision and accuracy are off the charts most of the time. He crowds your space, tracing your features with his delicate pinky. “Did Daddy make you feel good, baby?” Trevor asks. “You made Daddy feel good.”

You whine at that and almost want to cry again at the praise. All the time you spent wondering if you were good enough, if you’d ever get a boyfriend who loved you and stayed with you was worth it when you found Trevor. He always said the right things, made you feel things you’d never felt before.

“I love you,” you say.

Trevor slips his thumb into your mouth, watching your eyes close in bliss as he presses it against your tongue. You can still taste where he was rubbing your pussy with this digit.

“I love you,” he replies, voice soft. His voice sounds like awe, too.

note: small town girl chapter 1 next! (hopefully)

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