#one of them always insists on walking me to the car in the morning and i'm still waiting for that dance he promised me on a busy night | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

notanactressyayy · 1 month

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—𝐰𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞—

pairing. ex! Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader

summary. in a day you simply wanted peace, two unexpected visitors showed up. for one of them, you were glad.

warnings. smut! I am NOT responsible for your content consumption! — making out, thigh riding, strap on usage, cursing, angst (w happy ending), soft dom Nat.

notes. my first language is portuguese, so I apologize for any grammar errors. feel free to give me advice, though!

divider credits: @cafekitsune ★

Natasha Romanoff was known as a cold, ruthless woman, who never cared for anyone besides herself. Most of the people didn't know this was due her past — the Red Room was always in complete secrecy, so they feared her. She was already used to it. Whenever she started something with someone, in the next day, she had an empty bed as a gift. To be completely honest, she always felt used. Men and women touched her, to leave her in the morning.

That changed when she met you.

You could say you'd changed her completely, for the best, of course. She became more open with you, learned to express herself better and was not known as the most selfish Avenger in the team anymore.

But just like people say, not everything is a bed of roses.

Instead of using that achievement to improve your relationship, she began to care a little too much about her team of superheroes. At some point, she was no longer paying attention to you.

Reports this, reports that. Missions and more missions. "I have to go somewhere with Cap." "I have to train with Tony to a mission." "I can't, I'll have to go with Clint."

When you confronted her about this, begging for her to understand and willing to help her change, she decided that it was a better option to part ways. You were devasted, and she saw it. That made her heart ache — someone actually lov— liked her enough to want to stay.

This was the one and only reason Natasha didn't forget about you. The only reason she thought about you everyday. The only reason she teared up whenever entering her car and seeing the polaroid with the heart pendant you gave her hanging on her rearview mirror, that she didn't dare to take down.

Today, you were leaving work, heavy tired steps echoing on the pavement's wooden floor as the moonlight illuminated the room. The building was already empty, the streets, darker than your thoughts.

As you started walking to the nearest bus stop, you heard quick footsteps behind you — it was already late and usually there was no people on the streets like this. You turned your head, "you gotta be kidding me".

"Hey, Y/n!" Peter exclaimed, running to catch up with you. "I didn't know you were going to be here at 11:30pm."

You rolled your eyes and took a sharp inhale, but like always, tried to be polite. This so called coworker of yours was always looking at you, following you everywhere, and asking you things, not always work-related. You always made it clear that you weren't interested in men, and he insisted on saying he could 'change your mind'.

"Hey, Peter." you replied, faking a smile and nodding. "You need me to review your documents again?"

"Oh, no. I was just wondering if you wanna go on a date with me. Did you see the restaurant that just opened over there? I could treat you to—"

"No, I don't." you cut him off, more harshly than you intended to. "Look, Peter, I'm sorry. But I don't want anything to do with you, alright? So if you want, go ahead and find somebody else."

You shook your head, not even waiting for his reply and picking up the pace again, quickly rushing to the bus stop. That's when the guy showed you a side that you just suspected, but preferred to believe he didn't have

"C'mon, Y/n." he grabbed your arm, nails digging into your skin. "You won't broke my heart, will you? You're such a gentle, beautiful, kind woman. You will give me a chance."

You cleared your throat, feeling him get closer, and thinking about a certain Red Head — how she would gently, delicately graze your skin with her fingers, so softly whispering into your ear and bringing you to her embrace—

"Back off."

"Oh, no." he laughed. Such a creep. "I won't back off. And if you don't cooperate, I'll make you give me a chance."

Your hands trembled now, silently praying to whoever was seeing this just call the cops or do something. You didn't know the guy anyway. He didn't talk to anyone at work beside you, and you never got to know him, you would never. That's when it would be a good use to have a spy girlfriend. Just the last thing you expected to happen was to hear the sound of a gun cocking behind you, and a very familiar female voice.

"She said back off."

Relief unconsciously washed upon you as your arm was released, only because of the gun, though. You knew that if if wasn't for her, who knows what could've happened there. Peter left, annoyed, but the Russian swore to herself that she'd make his life a living hell.

"... Natasha?" you whisper, turning around with a confused and even scared frown.

"Yes," she worriedly rubbed your arm, shooting you, slowly making the feeling of the disgusting hand fade away. "Are you okay?"

"I am..." you nodded subtly, leaning into her touch. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I saw a woman being harassed. What was I supposed to do? Mind my business?" she said, obviously avoiding your question.

"You know this is not what I mean." you frowned, carefully letting go of her caress and wrapping your arms around yourself.

Natasha sighed, trying to think of a way to explain herself. 'Oh, I'm here because I miss you so much I can't even sleep anymore.'? No, it wouldn't do.

"I... followed you."

"Oh, great, so I'm being stalked twice today." you hissed, making Natasha look down with your harshness.

"No, Y/n.. I'm here for.. personal reasons. I saw you leaving work, and I noticed that guy following you. I decided to follow too, until he grabbed you and I knew I had to intervine." she explained quietly.

The fact she had said 'personal reasons' deeply hurt you, but you couldn't do anything, you had broken up after all. You nodded, and prepared yourself to walk tp the bus stop again.

"Wait," Natasha quickly stopped you, her eyebrows furrowed. "I won't let you go home like this."

This was something about the old Natasha you knew, the protective one. It was okay, you were tired, and a ride would be no harm. "Where's your getaway car?"

She smiled softly at your joke, and tilted her head. "Around the corner."

You two walked silently towards the vehicle, as she unlocked the doors with the keys and you entered the passenger seat. You threw your bag on the backseat before you could focus on the environment around you, and see the polaroid of you and Nat with the heart pendant you gave her hanging on the rearview mirror.

Natasha noticed your gaze as soon as she entered the driver seat, clearing her throat and starting the car's engine. "Couldn't bring myself to take those down."

You stayed silent, but your eyes could tell everything. I'm glad. Oh, I'm so glad.

Natasha remembered your address as if you hadn't broken up nine months ago, and when you reached your place, you too much disappointed for your own good.

"Thank you for the lift," you whispered, turning your body to be able to grab your bag from the backseat — in the exact same moment Natasha turned to unbuckle her seatbelt — your fronts touching, which made you two a little startled.

The problem was that you didn't pull away, neither of you. You slowly turned your head to meet Natasha's gaze, your face so close to hers you could feel her breath. Familiar. It was pure instinct, almost muscle memory, of the times she always kissed you goodbye when dropping you somewhere.

You didn't even notice your hand going up to hold the back of her neck, much less when she placed her hand on your thigh, and leaned in so your noses brushed. Natasha closed her eyes for a brief moment, almost savouring your closeness, your aura enveloping her once more. Then your lips barely, barely grazed, breath hitching, as she couldn't take it anymore.

The redhead pressed her lips against yours, giving them a long peck. It was surprising how much time you lasted without air. You didn't break the kiss, just darted the tip of your tongue out to lick her bottom lip, begging for entrance. She gave in, trying to pull you closer but being stopped by the goddamn control panel. As soon as you felt her tongue touching yours you realized that this was going too far. You pulled back harshly, leaving you two panting for air and a disappointed Nat.

"Do you..." you shakily breathed. "... wanna come in?"

"Mhm." Natasha hummed, turning off the engine. "Can I?"

You didn't answer, just opened the door and slipped out the car. As you entered, you could practically feel Natasha's eyes burning the place. How you didn't take down any picture of yours. How her stuff was spreading across the pavement. It gave her a sense of... hope? Of course, since she was in the same situation.

"So.. are you seeing anyone?" you asked her while kicking off your heels and leaving them by the door.

"I think you know the answer for that." the redhead practically hissed, making your head snap towards her.

"But I want you to say it." you retreated. "I want you to look at me in the eyes and tell me you didn't forget me. I want you to look at me in the eyes and tell me the reason of why you came to my town again and followed me when I left work. I want you to tell me the reason of why you kissed me just like we always did before."

"I didn't! I didn't forget you, Y/n!" Natasha snapped, looking away and tucking the loosen strands of hair of her braids behind her ears. "I didn't forget you and I never did. Alright? Happy now?"

"Is that so?" you laughed humorlessly, crossing your arms. "I thought you cared more about your superheroes buddies. Where are they now!?"

"I left them." Natasha replied, looking at you again with a mixture of anger and pain. "I left them and came back, to you, Y/n."

You froze at her words, swallowing your saliva. "... okay?"

"I came back here, because I wanted to at least a chance to explain myself. I wouldn't be able to live knowing that I hurt you, and that you think that I did it on purpose. So please, just give me a chance."

"...go on."

Natasha sighed in relief, exhaling the air she was holding. "I'm sure you know my story. You were the first one to know everything about it, about me. And I'm also sure you know you're the first one to ever love me. No one else ever loved me like you did."

You leaned against the kitchen counter, listening carefully to her words, ready to give her time and patience, like you usually did.

"... I didn't know what I was doing, Y/n. Every other relationship I had, ended in less than a week. Love is a weapon and it's letal for me, for people like me. I was, I am startled by all of this, by this fuzzy warm feeling that you always gave me, that you still do, in my thoughts.. the Avengers were my first family, and when I panicked, I tried to hang on to them. In order not to hurt you, and myself." she didn't even realize the tear rolling down her cheek, and shook her head. "That's it. I'm sorry for everything, but Y/n, you will always have a piece— you'll always have my whole heart in your hands. I'll get off your hair n—"

You couldn't. Not anymore. You rushed towards her and grabbed her face, cutting her off with a deep kiss. She was taking aback, but her hands traveled to your waist, pulling you flush against her, your fronts pressing. Nothing changed. Natasha pushed you backwards against your room's door, her tongue entering your mouth and dancing with yours. You could feel yourself getting lost in her, damn it, once more. It was like she had this spell on you — you were trapped, and didn't complain.

"Y/n," the russian uttered, hands slipping inside your shirt and giving your waist a squeeze. "I've got to have you again, at least for one last time. Please, just this once—"

Tired of her rambling, you smirked and grabbed her by the jacket, pulling her into a kiss again and dragging her into the room, slamming the door shut. Natasha took this as a 'yes', and her hands, under you shirt, went to unclasp your bra, making it fall to the ground and a groan of relief escape your throat. Before she could remove the rest of the fabric of your body, you stopped her, pushing her down to the bed.

"I always wanted to do that," you started to slowly, so slow that it almost tortured her take off your clothes, stripteasing for her.

"Shit, Y/n." she quickly started to get rid off her jacket, snd everything else she was wearing. You were careful not to trip on the pile of clothes on the floor, and walked over to her again, straddling her leg on the edge of the bed.

Natasha's hand grabbed your hips roughly, keeping you in place and it didn't take two seconds before you started to grind on her. "Nat," you breathed, arms going to circle her neck.

"Who else touched you like this while I was away?" she growled in your ear, pressing your body against hers. "Answer me,"

"No one," you whined, giving her a subtle shake of your head. "No one, Natty. J-just myself,"

"My poor girl," Nat began to roam her hands up your sides, her lips pressing kisses on your jawline, "I'm so sorry I wasn't there to help,"

"You're here now..!" you gasped, your movements faster, as she began to move her thigh to stimulate you more.

"And I don't plan on going away," Natasha murmured, tilting your head to look at her in the eyes. Even in your high, you could make sense of her words, and the weight they beared.

"Nat!" you moaned, closing your eyes shut. "I need... please.. I—I need you, inside me."

Natasha almost lost her mind with that, grabbing your hips and pinning you down to the bed. She reached her arm out for the drawer that she hoped your strap still was, and luckily, she was right. "I'm gonna fuck you like never before, Y/n." she attached the silicone cock to her hips with urgency, holding your hips in place as she ran the tip of it across your folds, making you whine in need.

"Don't tease me," you gently gripped her arms on your hips and looked at her with dreamy eyes. She couldn't resist — but your walls were so tight she had to put a little effort to enter you.

"Holy fuck, baby." she moved her hand to brush your hair behind your ear, giving you a little time to get used to the length. "So fucking tight for me,"

"I—" you breathed, interrupted when Nat started to slowly move in and out you, her red hair falling into your face. You moaned, putting her hair up in a makeshift ponytail and with your free hand, holding her neck. "God, I missed you,"

Natasha pounded faster in you with those words, your moans only getting louder by the second. She grabbed one of your legs and placed it over her shoulder, allowing her to hit your g-spot repeatedly. You thumb went to your mouth, wetting it and starting to rub her clit — she couldn't say she expected that, her soft moans saying everything.

"Cum with me," you breathlessly requested, eyes fluttering close. Natasha didn't have to be asked twice. Her hips slammed into yours, the wet sounds of her thrusting echoing the room. "Natty!"

You back arched, head thrown backwards as your orgasm hit you. Natasha's legs shook, her weight falling onto you and your arms immediately wrapping around her, keeping her close.

"Don't make me go away,"

"I could never."

958 notes · View notes

rainbowhao · 21 days

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fratboy taehyun

fratboy taehyun who acts like your boyfriend but isn’t actually your boyfriend—just your high school friend who’s too dense to realize his feelings

fratboy taehyun who is never really surprised to find you walking around campus in his clothes

“oh. so it was you.” he gestures to the sweatshirt you wear

you laugh nervously. “how’d that get there? must of grabbed it by mistake.”

he just pulls the hood over your head before tugging you to your next class. “all the clothes you have and you still insist on wearing mine.”

fratboy taehyun who is an all-rounder and insists on joining every extra curricular he can yet somehow always finds time for you

fratboy taehyun who acts all serious and tough but would do anything you ask him

“please never contact me again,” he says after showing up to your apartment just to catch the cockroach in your kitchen

fratboy taehyun who is a natural flirt but doesn’t realize the impact he has on you

fratboy taehyun who grabs your wrist when a car’s coming and lifts his shirt post-practice to wipe at the sweat on his forehead—who’s not shy even when he knows you’re in the stands watching

fratboy taehyun who avoids bringing you around his place whenever possible because of his nosy roommates

“i’m helping rearrange around some furniture,” he tells soobin one morning.

this catches his friend’s attention. “you’re what now?”

he calmly repeats what he said while slipping on his shoes.

hyuka watches the interaction, grinning manically. “you like them. soobin, he likes them.”

“yes. moving a desk translates to unrequited love.” taehyun rolls his eyes.

soobin hums. “unrequited, huh?”

fratboy taehyun who leaves you breathless even in jeans and a jersey—who meets you in a cropped shirt and backwards hat one warm afternoon and has everyone staring

fratboy taehyun who orders dessert to cool off and doesn’t think twice before wiping off the leftover ice cream by the corner of your lips

“you wonder why everyone thinks we’re dating.” you try to laugh off the situation

fratboy taehyun whose eyes widen at your joke—who can’t help but think about what you said for the rest of the day and even turns to his upperclassman yeonjun for an outside option

fratboy taehyun who winds up outside your door after a long conversation, quietly knocking in case you’re already asleep (and secretly hoping you just won’t hear)

fratboy taehyun who forgets every word in the dictionary when he sees you’re wearing nothing but his t-shirt, features visibly tired beneath the street light

fratboy taehyun who can only think about how pretty you look—were you always this pretty—and can’t stop himself from commenting on your choice in sleepwear

“you look really cute in my clothes.”

fratboy taehyun who is secretly satisfied when you get all flustered

fratboy taehyun who stays over at your place—something he hasn’t done since high school—and somehow winds up next to you in your tiny bed

fratboy taehyun who doesn’t seem to mind when you creep closer to him in your sleep, eventually entangling your limbs with his

fratboy taehyun who takes off his shirt when it gets too hot

fratboy taehyun who forgets said action and wakes up startled to find his torso bare and your arm across his stomach

“sorry…” he doesn’t know what else to say.

you’re frozen against his side. you can feel his muscles contract beneath your forearm. “it’s fine.” you gulp, gaze hesitantly trailing upward to meet his piercing eyes

“why are you looking at me like that?” taehyun mumbles.

you can’t look away. “like what?”

fratboy taehyun who starts feeling things one shouldn't feel about their friend

fratboy taehyun whose breath hitches when he realizes how close you are—how easy it’d be to dip his head down and kiss you just like that

fratboy taehyun who’s convinced his dumb friends put these thoughts in his mind and would rather die than entertain the idea that they were right all along

fratboy taehyun who becomes even more protective over you

fratboy taehyun who is bold enough to put his hand on your waist when you go to parties and doesn’t let you out of his sight when you wander off with an overly-friendly beomgyu

“you haven’t looked away from them once,” soobin comments smugly while sipping beer.

“really? didn’t notice,” he says absently.

his roommate chuckles. “you’re looking at gyu like you want to murder him.”

“sounds like a normal night to me.”

fratboy taehyun who’s forced into the closet with you after a stupid game of truth or dare

fratboy taehyun who keeps mumbling apologies everytime he touches you—who is starting to feel a little claustrophobic in this tiny dark space

“seems like they really want us to get together.” you break the silence.

“dumb, right?” taehyun chuckles.

“cause it’s me?” you sink back against the wall. “dating me is dumb?”

“that’s not what i meant.” the words are flying out of his mouth.

fratboy taehyun who says fuck it—friends kiss, right?

“if it’ll get them off our backs.” he tries to play it off cooly.

fratboy taehyun who looses all control when he gets a taste of you, pulling you further against him until there’s no space between your bodies—who’s addicted to the feeling of your lips on his and quickly forgets about the game

fratboy taehyun who never realized how needy he was for your touch until your hands are in his hair, on his sides, cupping his face—who never wants to let you go now that he has you like this

“think they’ve kissed yet?” beomgyu sighs, legs crossed and leaning against the couch

soobin smirks. “twenty bucks says they're having sex by the time we pull them out."

824 notes · View notes

donotpush · 3 months

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Daily vlog

CW: mpreg, sort of magic pregnancy, birth denial, car birth

"So..." Adam smiled, holding the camera over his head, to get his best angle. "Are we filming Baby #3 birth?"

Adam asked, turning to look at his wife, and at the camera again with another smile without waiting for Alissa’s reply.

His hand traveled to spank Alisa's tight, bare belly, leaving the mark of his palm over the sensitive skin and making her groan slightly. Adam nodded enthusiastically before talking to the camera again. "Of course we are! What do you think, huh? It's a tradition at this point, right, honey?"

Alisa took a deep breath, putting herself together before looking at the camera and giving her best smile. She had been up since 5 am this morning, with a crying baby hanging from her hip and a sick toddler throwing up all day long, and honestly, the last thing she wanted to do right now was to expose herself to the camera.

But Adam insisted. How could they let their followers down without a daily vlog today?

He couldn't, and he was gonna post that vlog. Of course, who wouldn't have the energy to produce, film, edit, and post a vlog when you wake up at 10 am and do exclusively nothing all day?

Alisa knew that it was their job, that the moment they signed up for the influencer life, their whole purpose (and not like she was complaining, there were moms out there that had real jobs and still had to deal with way worse than her) but she did expect some empathy from her husband.

She was about to pop, literally, this baby out. Everything was crazy, from her hormones to the altered routine in the house, but as always, Adam was blissfully unaware of the chaos that surrounded their lives right now.

“So, there you go” Adam winked at the camera, “Actually, our next blog will probably be Baby’s #3 birth, right honey?”

Yes, it was gonna be another birth vlog. This morning when she looked at herself in the mirror, Alissa realized that her stomach had dropped, tight and bloated past her hips, the taut skin stretching to its limits today seemed like it was about to burst.

So, yes, the next video on their channel Alissa was almost 100% sure it was gonna be a birth vlog.

“...maybe.”

She really wished that this time they could’ve done something a bit more… conventional. Private, away from all the cameras and views. With their last baby, Adam had the fucking camera in her face the whole process. From the moment she woke up to contractions to the moment she popped out the kid in the birthing tub. This time, she wasn’t in the mood for all that, no matter how many views it would give them.

Adam went on, ranting about something and talking about their sponsor they got earlier in the month, a really bad marketing job for a really bad product, but Alisa didn’t hear him because Ryatt was getting something she shouldn’t have inside her mouth. The blonde groaned as she clumsily tried to kneel down, reaching over her huge stomach to take the toy out of the baby’s sticky hand.

“Adam, help me here” she breathed, pointing to the baby with her hand.

Adam gave her a look, and outside of the camera frame, signaled her to wait. He talked about another one of their sponsors, said goodbye to their subscribers and their classic outro line (family always first, and y’all are family) to their subscribers, and just then walked over to help her after he turned the camera off.

“God, fuck…!” she groaned, holding onto her stomach as she struggled to stand up straight.

“Language” Adam raised an eyebrow, pointing at Ryatt with his head.

“Bullspit, I’m so darn over with this”, pointing to herself, Alisa looked down at her gravid stomach. “I’m so fucking done. I can’t wait to get this baby out of me and… And I told you I would prefer to keep his birth private, Adam”

The tone wasn’t stern or accusative, just done— deep down, Alisa knew her husband was going to do whatever he wanted anyway. Little choice she had.

“I know, I know…” Adam shrugged, his eyebrows raising and his mouth scrunching up.

He knew, of course, he did, but to be honest, he didn’t care enough. His wife was being dramatic as if she hadn’t gone over with this two times already. But he knew that he had to add something to fill the silence that followed, he always did have something to say.

“If I could, babe, I would carry our baby for you” he sighed dramatically, turning around and away from his wife. “Actually, I wish I could be pregnant instead of you right now, honey…”

His words were left hanging in the air as Adam disappeared into the hallway to the kitchen, ready to grab a beer and sit down on the couch to relax for a while before getting to edit.

Actually, I wish I could be pregnant instead of you right now.

Alisa stared at his back as he disappeared into the kitchen. His nice legs and his toned arms, his perfect back and she couldn’t see the six-pack, but it was there. Because Adam didn’t have to carry two kids, to gain weight and to lose weight, to lose his six-pack or to see his whole body change in a matter of months.

It wasn't him who had to endure the contractions, the labor, or the long hospital nights while waiting to be able to spread his legs open and push.

He didn’t wish he could be pregnant. Oh, but Alisa did.

***

Alisa made breakfast, did laundry, got through the morning with two kids under 5 and all while dealing with those awful cramps that kept interrupting her. They weren't contractions, she knew those pretty well, but they were the foreword of a long story.

Adam? He edited their latest video and went to take a nap on the couch.

Without opening his eyes, Adam let out a small groan and tilted his head to hide his face against one of the cushions. Something had interrupted his sleep, but he didn’t hear Ryatt's cries or Bobby playing loudly somewhere in the house, nor his wife complaining about something.

So he did what everyone would do, he didn’t even bother fully opening his eyes and tried to go fall back into a deep slumber.

But something was off. His head was feeling dizzy and his whole body was… acting funny. An overall feeling of being sick, something he ate, probably.

He shifted, moving his hips to turn to his side, and he frowned when he felt something in his stomach move. With a groan, the hand that rested between his thighs slid off from there to move to his abs, rubbing the soft spot trying to ease whatever was grumbling inside his tummy.

Soft, a bit harder if he pressed down. But it didn’t have to be soft, he hit the gym 6 days a week and had washboard abs, he was the envy of all the suburban dads in their neighborhood. Suddenly, his stomach fussed again, and this time it came accompanied by a cold free of air brushing against his skin, making him shiver.

Half asleep, fighting to pull a strand of consciousness and get himself up fully, Adam’s features turned into a confused grimace as his mind finished coming back to this reality. When he finally opened his blue eyes, covering his face with his hands to dismiss the headache that the sunlight from the windows gave him, he immediately knew something wasn’t right.

His free hand was still rubbing over his stomach, and it was still… It was round. Round and firm, the protuberance that rested under the palm of his hand.

“What…?” Adam mumbled, confusion slowly taking over his sleepiness and pulling him back to reality.

He was wide awake now, his body and mind alert. When he looked down at himself, the scream of horror that left his lips almost deafened him, leaving his eardrums ringing loudly and his heart hammering against his chest.

It felt cold. The cold breeze brushing against his skin because his white shirt was now all lifted over to his chest, exposing his warm skin to the air. His shirt was lifted because where it was supposed to be a flat, toned stomach, now there was a fat, round belly, nothing like what he had ever seen before.

He must have eaten something bad, something that made him bloat and just feel weird overall, but bloat like this?

In front of him, his stomach wasn't just bloated, it felt tight and hot at the touch and the skin was itchy, stretched to the limit in what seemed to be the few hours he was asleep. His abs were gone, and now a gravid mount of flesh sat there, huge and tender.

From confusion, Adam's mind raced to fear, because there was no logical or reasonable explanation to any of this. If it was something he ate, then it was something that made him terribly wrong and he probably should head to the doctor ASAP.

But, deep down, Adam knew it wasn't something he ate. Under a thinning layer of denial, he knew.

His chest wrenched with his agitated breaths, and Adam tried to lift himself up from the couch. He failed, not used to the weight that he carried now on his middle (God, he was heavier now) and the only thing he could do was to lay there for a few seconds, staring down.

At his belly.

He felt like he needed to puke when unexpectedly something inside him squirmed.

He closed his eyes tightly to avoid nausea rising up in his throat, and the deprivation of one of his senses seemed to whip up the other ones. He could feel how hot the skin that covered his now rounded stomach was, how hot his body was, how heavy he felt and how something was squirming inside him.

His left hand moved over his stomach, right under his left rib, and he swallowed. As soon as his hand pressed down against the tense flesh, another tiny hand pressed back from the inside.

"Fuck, fuck fuck..." gripping at the couch's back, a loud moan escaped from his lips as he curled his fingers around the fabric above the couch, holding onto it desperately, lifting himself up.

It was, to say at least, weird to carry himself around now. The few seconds that he ran, well, more like waddled, towards the bathroom were something. So this was what it was like?

The image in the mirror proved what Adam already knew.

I wish I could be pregnant.

He stared at his reflection, turning to the side to let his eyes travel from the top of his head to his middle, then turned to his other side and to the front again. His hand moved to rest on top of his stomach as if he needed another confirmation that it was there and it was real.

He thought about it for a moment, before he pinched the tight skin of his belly. He hoped he would wake up, there was a small part of him that still hoped this was just a bad dream and his mind was doing some crazy tricks while his real body was still asleep on the couch. But he was awake.

The waistband of his sweatpants moved down a centimeter. He looked down, his eyes wide open as he witnessed right in front of him how his stomach swelled, the skin extended and shifting as his stomach grew in size.

***

The front door opened, and Bobby rushed in, throwing his frog backpack next to the door before Alisa followed him with Ryatt clinging to her hip. Adam made his way to her as quickly as he could.

“Oh! Mommy, look!” Bobby shouted as soon as he saw him, his little finger pointing to Adam’s gravid stomach. “Daddy has Little brother now! Look!”

But Adam couldn't even stop to look at him, because he could only focus on the fact that where Alisa was supposed to have a nine-month overdue belly, there was just a flat stomach. Fuck.

They stood in front of each other, Alisa looked at him, then down at his belly, and then up at him again.

“Well, I guess wishes do come true, honey!” The tone was so cheerful that it made Adam’s blood boil.

Probably…his hormones messing with him? As if that was the least of his problems. A cramp took over him, painful enough to bring a frown to his face and make him rub the side of his belly.

“We need to go to the hospital!”

“Why the rush?”

A dark spot started to spread all over Adam’s grey sweatpants as a gush of amniotic fluid came out of him.

“My…your…my water just broke!”

“You need to change, and we need to take the kids to my mom’s house…”

“Why are you so calm?”

“Relax, honey” she sighed “I have done this two times already! It’s gonna be just fine. You have to change, go get the hospital bag, oh, and of course get the camera!”

“We are not… fuck… filming this” he breathed, gripping the table next to him when another sharp pain took over him.

“What do you mean?” Alisa frowned as she picked up Bobby's backpack again “It's a tradition at this point. Of course, we're filming. It’s going to be a hit.”

Besides the fact that all of this escaped all logic and reason, there was a tangible reality. Something that was happening right here, right now, and it was the fact that Adam was in labor. Didn't matter how much he tried to deny what was going on, to say he was still dreaming, because the pains that were shooting through his middle, contracting the muscles and making him whine felt very real and were happening, quicker and faster every minute.

He took a deep breath, moving his hand under his belly to lift it slightly, hoping to ease the pain or the pressure that was starting to build up on his hips, but it didn’t work. He wasn't sure how much time he had before it got actually serious, but he did know that after his water broke, it was little.

“Turn that off…” Adam titled the camera that rested on the car seat cup holder away, his free hand flying to wipe sweat from his forehead. “Oh, fuck…”

Alisa tilted the camera back to its original position. Her husband shifted on the passenger's seats, his both hands now busy rubbing the contracting bump that rested between his open thighs.

Well, at least now he knew that contractions were more painful than a kick in the balls.

“Oh, oh, ah!” He cried out, his body tightening up, and a low groan leaving him as he leaned forward pressing his palms against the dashboard and panting heavily. “Fuck, I need you to… ugh… I need you to drive faster, honey.”

“Babe, I’m going as fast as I can,” Alisa replied, looking at him through the corner of her eye. “Just breathe, okay?”

Looking outside the window, Adam tried to find a distraction. Anything, really, that made him not think about the increasing pressure that was building between his legs and about how low the baby was.

He shifted in his seat, his hips swinging back and front trying to find a spot that didn't make him feel so miserable. Placing a hand on the side of the seat and another on the grab handle, Adam leaned forward and spread his legs as another loud grunt escaped his lips, his eyes closing tight and his breath picking up again when another tight contraction hit him.

He tried breathing, in and out just as he would tell Alisa to do, but it wasn’t doing shit.

The heavy weight on his hips and pelvis was getting closer and closer to coming out. Adam didn’t want it to come out. At least not here, in the fucking car in the middle of the road.

“We’re five minutes away from the hospital” Alisa reassured, her hand patting his tense thigh. “Just breathe”

“I don’t… ughn, fuck! I don’t know if I can… oh… hold it in that much longer” Adam panted, moving to unclasp the seatbelt that now pressed uncomfortably against his stomach. “Fuck, there’s pressure. It feels like… I have to push!”

“How do you even know that you have to push?” Stopping at a red light, Alissa raised both eyebrows before tilting to face him.

“Because it’s coming out!” Adam cried, moving back on his seat to prop up both feet against the dashboard, throwing his head back as he moaned.

“Just breathe. We’re almost there”

Just breathe. We’re almost there. The words were an echo, and Adam was sure that he said those exact phrases before, before the births of their two kids, in this exact same car. But he didn’t realize how useless, how annoying having someone repeating just calm down was.

God, fuck, he wondered how Alissa didn’t just slap him those times. If anyone was going to tell him to calm the fuck down again, he was going to kill someone.

His murder instincts were quickly dismissed when he closed his eyes, his hands moving to slide under his belly and lifting it slightly, as if it could help to ease the pressure on his pelvis. With a cry, he shifted forward, now moving his hands to slide under his thighs, lifting his hips from the car seat.

It was coming. Now. And out.

He could feel his own body pushing against his wishes, and the more he tried to avoid it, the worse it was, the baby helpless making its way down his pelvis and towards his hole. It felt as if at the first bump Alisa hit on the road the baby would just pop out of him.

He didn’t notice when he pushed back in the seat, breathing heavily through his nose as he pressed himself down against the seat, trying to prevent anything from coming out.

But it was useless because his commitment lasted little when his brain was overwhelmed by the urge to just allow his body to do what it had to do. To push.

The baby’s head was right there. Adam’s hand slid between his legs, the palm of his hand pressing against his bulging hole, the head sitting behind his entrance and almost ready to start crowning. Almost out of him.

“…fuck!” he writhed, gritting his teeth as he kicked against the car floor. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

The fingers of his free hand gripped at the grab handle, knuckles turning white, and his other hand was busy pressing against his hole, trying to keep the head from coming any further. It was useless because the head was still pushing its way down, out of him on its own.

He could feel the bulge against his palm, growing ever so slowly as Alissa pressed her foot on the pedals. Adam threw his head back, closing his eyes shut and trying to focus on his breath. The same advice he always gave: breathe.

His chest rose slowly as he inhaled, then shakily exhaled through his closed lips. It should be fine, he just had to breathe —in and out and counting to five— focus on remaining calm, and he could just make it to the hospital. They were just a few minutes away, all he had to do was… push.

“Oh, fuck, it’s coming!” he screamed, kicking his feet in the air, his hips shifting forwards and to the seat edge. “Honey, Alissa, it’s right there”

Alissa tilted her head, looking away from the road for a brief moment to face her husband. She found herself contemplating an image that, deep down in her stomach, in a very hidden spot and a very small dose, made her happy: she got exactly what she wanted. Her husband going through all of the wonderful miracles of birth.

Adam panted, the tense orb his stomach had become contracting and tensing in front of him, his hands gripping at the taunt red skin, furiously trying to relieve the pain or the pressure, his body almost shaking by the urge of pushing the baby that was starting to crown. His face was red and sweaty, hands and all of his body straining and tense.

Alissa, rightfully, stopped at a red light, a bunch of cars passing in front of them.

“Don’t stop, fuck, it’s…!” Adam shouted, but then his words became a muffled groan as he gritted his teeth, pushing his chin to his chest. “I can’t hold it in, I’m pushing!”

Even against his wishes, his body was pushing. Adam found himself trying to hold the baby in, to not give in to the urge, but his body was pushing. His stomach contracted and he found himself tensing, chin to chest, and gripping at the grab handle as he pushed. He counted to three and pushed again when another cramp took over him.

“Fuck!” he shouted, feeling the head stretching him open, making its way out. Adam reached with a free hand to press his hand over his wet, birth-fluid-stained shorts, only to feel the start of a bulge in his pants.

The pressure of the head right about to crown was hell. It only made him want to push to get over it, to push more to get the head to a full crown and get rid of the uncomfortable feeling, but god fuck he didn’t want to give birth to this baby in the car.

“It’s crowning, the head’s-... nhgn, what am I supposed to do!?” it was more a whimper than a question, and Adam found himself kicking in the air, biting his lower lips until he almost drew blood. “Shit, shit, shit…! Ughn!”

“I don’t know!” Alissa stepped on the gas and accelerated. “Don’t push! Just… wait! We’re almost there, just five minutes away from the hospital.”

Adam nodded, then shook his head, both hands moving to cup the underside of his belly, trying to relieve the pressure that was weighing him down. It didn’t work, and he found himself trying to contain a moan when another contraction rippled through his body, a gush of amniotic fluid rushing from between his legs and dripping to the car floor.

His hips jerked frantically as he rocked forth and back slightly, trying to find any angle that was comfortable for him to keep this baby in, but it was terribly useless because, with every movement of his body, the baby's head seemed to come closer and closer to a full crown.

“Ughn…!” he moaned, his fingers gracelessly trying to slide under the hem of his pants in order to pull them down. The baby was coming. “Fuck, it’s coming, I’m pushing….!”

His finger’s ministrations were interrupted when he interrupted when another contraction took over him, all of his focus on pushing. He gripped the sides of his belly, leaving white marks on the red skin, as he closed his eyes and whimpered.

“Oh, oh– it’s out, the head’s out!”

It wasn’t necessary for him to say it out loud because Alissa’s attention was dangerously divided between looking at the road and staring down between her husband's legs. His pants were dark and wet, stained by amniotic fluid, and the baby’s head bulged out of them almost obscenely -–god, it was huge—, only contained from coming further by the fabric of the pants.

“Fuck— I need to push, I need to push, I’m pushing!” he moaned, throwing his head back against the car seat and jerking his hips forward, his hands desperately trying to undo his shorts. “Ughn…the…mhgm…pants! Help me!”

“I can’t, hands at 9 and 3!”

With a loud whimper, Adam finally managed to pull his shorts down enough to allow the baby’s head to pop out of him free, a gush of fluid dampening his seat as the head dangled between his legs. His body shook at the feeling of the head stretching him open on its biggest point, and then the relief when it was finally out. Alissa stared in horror as her husband held the baby’s head in hand with one hand between his legs.

Alissa reached a hand to help Adam slide his pants down more, his body contorting as he pulled forward, pushing his hips towards the free space of whatever was left in the car. Now with his pants to his ankles, his body tensed once again, and he squirmed on his seat as he focused on the next contraction that rippled through his body.

“...fuck, nhgn!” his face became red as his feet kicked the car floor, kicking and screaming as he pushed. “Nhgn!”

With his next push, the baby’s body almost came shooting out of him. He screamed in pain as he felt the body coming out of him, the shoulders being even worse than the head. But before he could realize, it was over. A second later he heard a heavy cry, and the newborn resting against his chest.

His body slumped against the seat. He looked outside the windows, seeing the well known entrance of the hospital as Alissa parked the car, parking it at the nearest spot available. Before unclasping her seatbelt, Alissa reached to grab the videocamera. Adam stared at it before he spoke.

"You filmed it, right?”

#birth kink #pregnancy #labor #birth denial #pregnancy fantasy #mpreg #fpreg #clothing birth #car birth #birt in car #trying to hold it in #stories

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copper-16 · 2 months

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We Can't Figure Out What It Means

When Elena starts asking for something with a word that doesn't make any sense, Mapi and Ingrid enlist the help of their teammates to figure it out.

(a/n: I feel like so many of my stories are so angsty that getting to just sit here and write tooth ROTTING fluff is healing me a little inside. Anyways. Please enjoy :)

Ingrid and Mapi typically brought Elena to training one day a week with them. It wasn’t hard to have the baby at the training ground when everyone there wanted to hold her and say hello, but the two Barcelona players still worried that she would get in the way if she came too often.

Nevermind the fact that everyone's faces lit up the minute that Elena came in through the door, or that there was genuinely always someone ready to hold the little girl. All of the Barcelona girls absolutely adored Mapi and Ingrid’s daughter, and she was admittedly making the baby fever run rampant throughout the team, though nobody else had acted on that urge just yet.

Elena had missed the last few weeks at training due to various conflicts that had kept the little girl away, so when Mapi pulled her little Barcelona jersey that she always wore to the training ground out in the morning, the baby was immediately shrieking in excitement. Because as much as the Barcelona girls loved Elena, she loved them just as much.

They managed to get everyone dressed, fed, and out the door in a surprisingly easy fashion. Elena was a relatively simple and easygoing baby, and when she knew they were headed to the training ground she was always on her best behavior, excited about what was to come.

Ingrid turned the radio on a low setting as Mapi drove them toward the training center, with Elena babbling away in the back happily.

“Oh yeah? How about that!” Mapi hummed as Elena continued to talk away, none of her words really making sense but remaining insistent nonetheless. She was at the age where she was starting to say some actual words, but for the most part she was still just getting out sounds and hums without much rhyme or reason to them.

But Mapi encouraged it anyway, having read in a baby book that it was good for development either way. Ingrid looked back at their little girl with a soft smile, reaching back to brush some of her sandy blonde curls away from her face.

Elena giggled happily at her as they pulled into the parking lot, both women getting out as Mapi went to grab their daughter while Ingrid got their stuff.

The Spaniard had just hauled the little girl out of her car seat before Elena was twisting in her arms, gesturing to the ground.

“Mami, walk?” Elena asked, her voice light and hopeful. Mapi smiled as she nodded, letting her down and holding out her hand for Elena to grasp. She started to toddle forward, gripping the brunette’s hand with iron clad strength as she ventured forward on unsteady little legs.

Ingrid had two bags over her shoulders, one for her and her wife and one for Elena, but she watched the scene in front of her with thinly veiled horror. She knew that their daughter needed to learn to walk, knew that it was important for her to practice, but it still made her nervous. She didn’t want her to get hurt, or for something to happen to her.

“Ingrid, she needs to walk,” Mapi reminded the Norwegian softly, having looked back to see the anxiety painted across her wifes features. Ingrid softens slightly, swallowing thickly and nodding with uncertainty, as though she was trying to convince herself of the brunette’s words.

“Right, no I know, I just…I worry that something is going to happen to her,” Ingrid admits, watching as Elena stumbles slightly, but thanks to her connection with Mapi’s hand the Spaniard can keep her upright, looking back at her fellow defender with a look that reeked of ‘I told you so.’

“She is going to be fine, princesa, I promise. Plus, she is so close to the ground, how could she possibly hurt herself that badly!” The Spaniard argued, and Ingrid’s expression soured in the face of her wifes logic, and she held her hand up grumpily.

“You’re close to the ground,” Ingrid argued, and Mapi rolled her eyes with a smile, preparing to say something back when Elena piped up from below them.

“Le?” She asked, her eyes big and hopeful as she looked at her mothers. Both of them frowned, looking from the baby to one another.

“Do you know what ‘le’ is?” The Norwegian asked in a hushed tone, and Mapi could do nothing but shrug slightly, shaking her head.

“I have no idea what ‘le’ is,” she admitted, and upon hearing the word spoken again Elena said it a little louder this time, looking even more hopeful than before. Unable to find an answer, the three of them made their way into the facility anyways. With the chaos of everything, the center back was quick to pick her baby up, ignoring Elena’s protests that she could walk.

The little girl’s upset was forgotten the minute they made their way into the locker room, replaced with pure excitement at seeing everyone. The whole team was there, with the exception of a few of the injured players who were in the gym already, working on their rehab.

“Jay! Jay!” Elena half cheered-half shrieked as they approached Mapi’s locker, and the baby was promptly reaching for Jana as they arrived next to her.

“Hi Elena” The younger defender cheered, plucking the little girl from her fellow defenders arms and wrapping her in a hug. “Oh I missed you!”

Elena giggled into the defender's chest, making herself comfortable for a moment before she poked her head up, looking around at everyone. Most of the other girls were already changed, and Mapi and Ingrid were quick to do the same as everyone flocked to Jana to greet the little girl. They had missed seeing her the last few weeks, and she was equally thrilled to see everyone again.

The sandy blonde girl allowed for herself to be passed around to everyone, letting all of them press gentle kisses to her cheeks as she babbled and giggled with excitement.

It was when she ended up in Mariona’s arms that she looked around, a wrinkle appearing in her brow. When she doesn’t see the answer to her concern in the locker room, Elena turns to Mariona, her little eyebrows furrowed together.

“Le?” Elena asks again, and Mariona feels a wave of confusion settling over her as she looks toward Mapi and Ingrid. The Norwegian and Spaniard looked at their daughter and then back to each other again.

“What’s ‘le’?” The forward asked, and Mapi shook her head once more.

“We can’t figure out what it means!” The brunette explained earnestly, more than a little lost on the meaning of what Elena kept asking for.

“Le? Like Leah? Or Lia?” Keira suggested, turning toward Mariona for an answer. But the forward immediately shook her head, bouncing the baby as she answered.

“She’s never met either of those people,” Mariona pointed out, and the midfielder deflated as she realized that the Spanish woman was right.

“Maybe she means…Frido? Le, as in like Fridolina?” Aitana suggested, and all of them looked at each other in agreement, considering that it is a good idea. “I believe she is on the pitch already, if we want to go out!”

The rest of the team made their way out toward the pitch for practice, with Ingrid carrying Elena as they walked. The baby played with her mothers thick, long ponytail as they walked, keeping herself as entertained as possible.

“Frido!” Ingrid called out as they came closer, and Elena perked up at the mention of her godmother.

“Fro-fro!” Elena clapped her hands together as Frido ran over, ignoring Ingrid entirely in favor of the baby in her arms.

“Elena!” The blonde cried as Ingrid rolled her eyes, her hands coming to rest on her hips.

“I’m right here too, don’t you know?” Ingrid pointed out, but her Swedish friend simply shrugged, settling Elena on her hip.

“I saw you yesterday. I haven’t seen my guddotter in weeks!” Frido exclaimed, bouncing Elena up and down as she tickled the little girl's belly. Elena doubled over in laughter, and everyone couldn’t help but look over, completely entranced with the happy little girl.

When she had finally caught her breath, Elena looked up at Frido with an expectant expression.

“Le?” She asked once more, and Ingrid dropped her head into her hands as everyone groaned. Frido looked around in confusion, asking what was going on.

“We can’t figure out for the life of us what ‘le’ is!” Keira explained as understanding washed over the Swedish forward. She looked down at the little girl, who was looking around as though she was trying to find whatever ‘le’ happened to be.

“She looks like she’s looking for something. Maybe whatever ‘le’ is, is out here?” Frido tries, and since nobody else can come up with a better answer, they decide to take that course of action.

So while the entire team warms up, they decide that the best course of action is to just show Elena everything that they’re working with, in the hopes of getting to the bottom of what ‘le’ is.

Patri shows her a medicine ball, and the little girl slaps her hands against it but is otherwise uninterested, allowing the midfielder to boop the top of her head before she leaves her alone.

Esme picks her up as she and Salma walk the little girl over to a pole that is stuck into the ground. Salma shakes it slightly, while Esme points to it, trying to capture Elena’s attention. But the baby is entirely uninterested, instead reaching for Salma in lieu of engaging with the pole. The young forward is quick to make an exit, more than a little scared at the prospect of being left alone with the baby, or having to hold her. It was a running joke that Elena loved Salma, but the young forward consistently panicked whenever the little girl was around, having never really done anything with babies before in her life.

Marta and Lucy tag team showing her first the big goal, and then the little ones they use in practice. Lucy sets her up with a ball and Marta holds both of her hands as Elena steps into the ball, trying to kick it and sending it rolling forward a coupon of centimeters into the goal.

The English woman immediately snatches the baby up, holding her up and running around in celebration with excitement until she receives a telling off in the form of Ingrid shouting Lucy! Put my baby down!

Mapi quickly collects Elena, and with Irene’s help she shows her the foam rollers and step up blocks, but nothing appears to catch the little one’s attention. She asks each person she is with “Le?” and none of them have a good enough answer for her in her little mind.

All of the girls have resigned themselves to the fact that they aren’t going to figure out what the baby is talking about, when they end up actually getting their answer.

The girls have just broken from their water break, and Elena was grabbed by Keira and taken away from her blanket and toys to go hang out with the team instead. The baby was settled on the grass, patting it happily as Mapi sat with her, doing the same. Ingrid smiled down at the two of them, unable not to see the qualities of her wife inside of their daughter in times like this as they both greeted the grass together with big smiles.

Mapi gets distracted looking back at Irene, who is asking her a question about something they’ve been doing, that she entirely misses the way that Elena’s face lights up as she gets to her feet, noticing something in the distance.

She can’t really run yet, but that doesn’t stop Elena from taking off at a fast toddle away from the group, her shriek of joy getting everyone’s attention.

“LE!” Elena exclaimed loudly, her feet moving fast in her quest as everyone turned to see what was going on.

“Elena!” Alexia ran toward the little girl, ignoring the slight protest of her knee as she bent down and scooped the baby up, holding her tightly to her chest. Elena practically melted into the blonde, wrapping her arms around her godmother's neck. The captain had been in the gym all day doing rehab for her knee discomfort, but she had decided to come out on a break to say hello to Elena and everyone else.

Everyone at the water cooler let out a collective ohhh as they all realized that Elena meant ‘le’ as in ‘Alexia.’ The Barcelona captain tilted her head to the side in confusion, still holding the little girl's body tightly to her own.

“What is going on?” Alexia asked, not understanding what all of her teammates seemed to be talking about.

“Elena has been asking for you all day, but all she’s been saying is ‘le,’ so none of us knew what she was talking about until you walked out here,” Mapi explained as Elena leaned back slightly, reaching up to gently poke at Alexia’s cheek.

“Le!” She babbled, looking from the captain to her Mami with a pleased expression. Everyone around them looked at the two with wide smiles, as Elena pressed herself into Alexia with a big smile spread across her cheeks.

“Did you miss your Tia Alexia?” Mapi asks, reaching forward to poke the little girl's belly. Elena nodded as twisted away from her Mami and further into the Spanish captain, and Alexia simply turned her body away from the defender before she started jogging away.

“Nope, nope, Elena is all mine!” Alexia yelled back at Mapi, Elena babbling away at her happily as Mapi chased after the two of them. The little girl clung tightly to the blonde, but she smiled back at the Spanish defender as she chased after the pair, calling out.

“Hey, wait a minute! Bring back my baby!”

#mapi leon #ingrid engen #ingrid x mapi x daughter #woso #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas #irene paredes #fridolina rolfö #mariona caldentey #keira walsh #salma paralluelo #lucy bronze #marta torrejon #patri guijarro

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multifandomgirl08 · 7 months

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Something Bad, Something Good [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Fiancée!Reader

Summary: Reader deals with the haters on Twitter, Nico calls Reader Mama. Max claps back at the haters on Instagram like the malewife that he strives to be.

Warning(s): slander of reader on Twitter (+ some people not being mean on Twitter at the end), fluff, Mixed formatting (Story + Social Media)

A/N: This was a request from this ask and was sent in by anon. I felt it was important to show that everything in life is give and take and I hope that this showed that.

11/12/2023 A/N: The last social media post was updated to match reader's face claim

Words: 2k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

You had seen it on twitter and it wasn’t long before you were down the rabbit hole. It had showed up on your Twitter feed when you opened the cursed app,

It started with a simple tweet and took you no time to find the source.

It was speculation that you had grown used to. But that didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt that people thought that you were using Max because he had money. You knew that it probably wasn't just the small group of people on Twitter. It never was. There would always be people that wouldn't like that you were with Max. It was just the inevitable.

You had closed your phone when Nico had come up to you with one of his toy cars in hand.

“Are you sad Mimi?” Nico asked.

“No, Nico I’m not sad.” You reached for him before he moved to sit in your lap.

Nico didn’t need to know that people on the internet liked to be assholes for no real reason at times. They talked what they didn’t know about, and speculated on the obvious. Just another day of living in the 21st century.

“Someone wasn’t being nice to me. But, I have you and Papa, grandma, and Auntie Vic. So I should be okay.” You kissed the side of Nico’s head before he curled up with you on the couch to watch something.

You would be okay. They were just comments on a screen, as long as Max didn't find out it would be okay.

"Okay." he muttered before laying his head on your shoulder. You were still a bit jet lagged from getting back from your trip with Max and decided to close your eyes while the movie played on the TV.

“Papa,” Nico said. “Is Mama sad?”

Max looked up from his phone to see Nico in the living room.

They had only been back from their trip for a few days and Y/N had left to go get groceries with his mom. Sophie was leaving in the morning so Y/N insisted on cooking tonight before they dropped her off at the airport tomorrow.

Nico had never called Y/N mama before, not even when they had gotten back from their vacation, and told Nico that he and Y/N would be getting married.

“You called Y/N Mama, you haven’t before.” Max wanted to know why. Why now?

He knew that Nico had grown quite attached to Y/N after she had moved in with them. Nico liked spending time with Y/N. Nico had thrown a fit before they had left for their vacation because he would be without Y/N for a few weeks. His mom had called him once they had gotten to The Bahamas saying that Nico wanted Mimi to come home and had been crying since seeing Max's plane take off.

Nico gave a shrug of his shoulders. Maybe Nico was too young to understand the concept of a mother.

Nico walked away before pulling out one of the children’s books that he would read to Nico before bed. The story had a very basic structure that would appeal to Nico’s mind. It was about a mother lion taking care of her cubs.

Nico’s finger ran over the picture of the lions on the page before stopping on the mother lion. “She’s their Mama, like Mimi is mine. She takes care of me...” Nico trailed off.

He felt his phone buzz next to him, but didn’t check right away to focus on Nico. He pulled him into his arms and then to sit him on his knee.

“Nico, you know that you can call Y/N Mama, right?” He said to his son in Dutch.

Nico nodded.

“I’m sure that it would make her happy if you did.” Nico didn't say anything to Max for a moment. Max saw him nod.

"When is ...Mama coming home?" Nico slowly said, as if he was trying it out for the first time. Letting the word roll off his tongue, and then assessed if he liked it before giving a small nod that Max would have missed if he wasn't looking.

“Soon,” He said. "Why do you think Mama is sad?" He couldn't help but think back to what Nico said when he first came into the room.

Nico gave a small shrug, "She was looking at her phone yesterday. She looked sad."

Max was a little surprised. Why would Y/N be sad about something on her phone? He would ask her when she got home.

“Come, we’ll go play with some of your toys until she and grandma get home.” He was going to leave it at that. Nico didn't need to worry about that.

He checked his phone to see a text from Lando while Nico went to get out the toys that he wanted to play with.

Nico took things out of boxes while Max quickly texted Lando back,

Max quickly locked his phone turning to Nico to give him all of his attention to play with the mini model cars he had.

This was the why Y/N had been sad, she had seen what people were saying about her on Twitter. He wasn't going to even look because he knew it would just make him angry.

Max and Nico had played for a while before Max asked Nico if he would put all of his toys back.

It wasn’t much later that Max heard the front door open to Y/N and his mom walk through the door with groceries in their hands. Max moved from his spot on the couch and helped take the bags into the kitchen.

Max hugged his mom before pulling Y/N close, he cupped her cheek for a moment before kissing her on the lips. He just needed her to know that he was here for her if she needed anything.

“Hi.” He muttered feeling her pull away.

“Hey.” She said back. He tried to search her eyes to see if Nico was right. If she was sad, he couldn't see a trace of it at the moment.

There was the unmistakable sound of light feet against the hardwood floors.

Max and Y/N turned towards the sound to Nico standing just outside of the kitchen looking at them for a moment before running up to Y/N.

“Mama!” He yelled, before his little arms locked around Y/N’s legs.

Y/N looked down at Nico dropping her hand into his hair.

Max could see the tears filling at the corners of her eyes, not expecting to hear that.

Max couldn’t help but look over at his mom, and could see the approval on her face. It wasn’t something that he needed from her, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

He could see that Y/N pushed away the stray tears that had managed to fall before he had reached over and kissed her forehead letting his hand rest on Nico’s shoulder. Max reached up to cup her chin again feeling the slight tremble of her bottom lip. She was trying to stop herself from crying.

As he looked at her he could see the silent thank you in her eyes. Her letting him know how grateful she is to him for letting her have this. To truly be Nico’s mother.

Y/N had kissed the top of Nico’s head before his mom had shooed them out of the kitchen so they could put the groceries away. Max quickly kissed Y/N on the lips before giving his mom a hug and took Nico with him out of the kitchen.

Y/N had started dinner not long after and they ended up eating some pasta dish that took what felt like no time to cook. Through dinner every time Nico asked Y/N something it started with him calling her Mama. Y/N couldn’t wipe the smile off her face for the rest of the night.

Once Max was done clearing the table after dinner he quickly wrote a message and then posted it to his instagram story, from what he remembers his social media manager told him. It was easy enough. Once they were both up and he had checked them twice for spelling, he had left his phone on it's charger for the rest of the night.

He would never allow a few anonymous people to speak ill of his son's mother, Max loved her too much for that.

maxverstappen1 has added to their story

Sophie had called it an early night so she could finish packing and offered to put Nico to bed. Neither he nor Y/N refused.

Max had tried to get comfortable in bed but he couldn't manage it.

"What's going on?" Y/N said as she climbed into bed. "You’re never like this."

"I got a text from Lando today. Apparently, people on Twitter were talking about you." Max watched as Y/N stopped in her tracks, slowly sitting back against pillows.

She knew, she had seen those comments.

"I'm assuming that you saw them." She said.

"No, I didn't.” He didn’t need to see it to know that Lando was telling him the truth. “Why didn't you tell me?" He asked.

"Because it doesn't matter." Max wanted to fight her on that. People on the internet shouldn't have a right to say things like that about her.

“Y/N,” He started to say.

"I'm his mother Max, Nico sees me as his mom. That's why none of those comments matter." She continued. "I never knew how much I needed to hear him call me that until he did today."

Max could only guess for Y/N how different it was to actually hear Nico call her Mama for the first time. Max remembers the first time that Nico had called him Da. It was barely audible, but Nico had looked right at him when he had said it. He wasn't sure if he was able to breathe after that.

He let out a deep breath before opening his arms for her. She pushed back the sheets resting herself against his side, playing with the loose thread at the hem of his grey t-shirt.

“Mijn leeuwin,” He started to say. “Is this something that you want?” He asked.

“Do you want to legally be his mother?” They had talked about this months ago after he already had gone to get the ring made. Making it legal was just another step for them to fully be a family.

“I don’t need to legally be his mom Max.” She stiffened in his arms, seeing the reflection of the diamond ring just out of the corner of his eyes.

“Do you want to though?” He echoed. He knew that she didn’t need it, she hadn’t in the last few months since they had talked about it the first time. She had never pushed for Nico to call her anything other than the nickname that he had for her.

He looked to see her slightly nod, her eyes glassy with the threat of tears ready to spill from her eyes.

“I’ll give it to you.” He could make it happen, a few calls to his lawyer, looking through the papers that his ex left him about giving up her parental right to Nico, talking to Raymond and it could all be settled just after the wedding.

“Max.” She dropped her head to his shoulder. She didn’t have to say anything else but his name. As she looked up at him again he could see how grateful she was for letting her have the option to legally become Nico’s mother.

Neither of them had to say anything in that moment. It was settled, they were going to start the process of Y/N adopting Nico.

It wasn’t long after that they both fell asleep curled up around each other. Exhausted from the high emotions of the day.

maxverstappen1

Liked by sophiekumpen, victoriaverstappen and 523,345 others

maxverstappen1 Miji Familie

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August 19, 2024

taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel

#mini verstappen series #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #mv1 x reader #mv1 imagine #mv33 imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 imagines

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luveline · 6 months

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omg jade for a miguel x spider girl what if they’re spending the night together and she’s sleep talking and miguel is like ???? i sleep talk and it’s silly sometimes 😆

Miguel latches the door lock gently. Your snores echo in the silence of his apartment, huffing things that tell him you're laying on your back before he sees you. You've kicked the sheets down to the bottom of the bed, and your pyjama shorts are falling off of one hip and tucked too high on one leg, exposing the expanse of your thigh. Alarm clock light shines champagne on your skin and the graphic printed on your shirt, the super powered puppy dog you love so much barking one of his catchphrases: Chāojí wāngwāng!

He scrubs at his face. Things are rough lately. He hoped you'd be awake still to talk to, even if it was about nothing at all. He just wanted to hear your voice.

My own fault, he thinks, walking quietly to the dresser to change into his own pyjamas. They match yours. If anyone ever saw them he's not sure how he'd feel, but they were a necessary purchase at the time. You'd been morose about something, and matching made you happy.

Miguel changes and combs his hair haphazardly. He sprays some deodorant in want of a shower he's too tired for before he crosses back to the end of the bed, taking the blanket into his hands. He shakes it out over you, covering you once again. Then he rounds the bed and climbs in next to you, hooking his arm around you to drag you firmly into his side.

“Couldn't wait up for me?” he whispers, shifting to get comfortable in the mess of pillows you insisted on. You lift your head like you might kiss him, and for a selfish second he hopes you're awake, but then you breathe out another snore.

You're heavy when you sleep. He makes sure you're not about to suffocate on his chest and encourages your arm into a more comfortable position. Your chest half on his chest and side, your face in his neck, you look like a rom-com couple from one of your under the desk movies, but Miguel's far less comfortable. He'd wanted to be close to you, but he's wondering if he should've just spooned you.

“Miguel,” you say, your voice a croak in the dark.

He chuckles in surprise. “What?” he whispers.

You mumble. He brushes a hand up your face to draw your head back, thumb on your cheek. Your eyes stay closed.

What the…

“Hello?” he whispers.

You don't answer. Perhaps you'd woken for a split second and sensed him, or perhaps you're having a dream. You love to tell him about your dreams in the mornings, occasionally shaking him awake to tell him before you forget. He's always pissed to begin with, endeared by the end, pissed again when he sees the time.

He closes his eyes and decides he'll miss you by himself for a bit.

Your voice comes in a muffled squishing atop his chest, “It's his car.”

He blinks. “That so?”

“For the commute.” Your whispering turns intense, “He has to drive there, Miguel.”

Well, in whatever dream you're having, you're talking to him. He quite likes knowing that. “Where's he going, cariño?” he asks, picking the spot on your forehead a moment before he kisses it fondly.

You make this sound that he only ever hears when you're tired and he's touching you in ticklish places, a gurgle of a laugh as you nuzzle into his chest. “Stop…” you say playfully.

This is ridiculous.

Miguel's getting jealous of dream Miguel. Who does that guy think he is? You laugh, say something completely unintelligible, and jolt up hard enough to startle him.

“Ah!” you say, eyes finally opening, blinking down at him with a slowness that almost looks painful. “...Miguel?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“We were… uh…” You blink at him some more, your arm shaking with fatigue where you anchor yourself on the mattress. He slides a hand under your armpit to hold you up. “I think I was dreaming.”

“You were talking to me.”

“I was?” You lean down into your hand, rubbing your eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, I'm just… that was so weird…” You seem strangely unsettled. Miguel helps you onto your back but keeps an arm behind you so he can hold you. You're content to be held, pushing one leg over the other, speaking into his chest. “You were tickling me.”

“Sorry,” he finds himself saying, giving you a pat. “I won't do it anymore, cariño. You can go back to sleep.”

“Thanks, Miguel,” you mumble.

He waits for you to doze off, but your heart seems to be beating too quickly. Maybe dream Miguel drove you both off a cliff. “You want me to kiss you?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you mumble, tipping your head up.

He kisses your forehead. A long, slow press of the lips with no end in sight. Invigorated by your contended sigh, he kisses you again, again, these lazy gentle mouthings that barely count as kisses at all as he tugs the blanket up to cover your collar. You make a sound like a hiccup caught in your throat and before he knows it, you're sleeping again. You sleep soundly for the rest of the night, or he thinks so. He falls asleep not long after you with his lips still pressed to your forehead, so there's no way to know for sure.

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ellieslovr · 2 months

Text

A Visit To Mr.Miller’s House

CW: age gap, daddy kink, dirty talk, creampie, unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy. This is a dbf joel miller fic. Reader has no physical description, Joel is able to pick them up. Joel Miller x F! Reader. wc:3,071

A/N:wow, it only took me a month to upload this time! Look at that. Anyways, this is my first Joel fic, so let’s see how it goes. Enjoy! I have many more ideas for him.

Summary: After your dad asks you to go pick up something from Joel’s house, you get a lot more than you bargained for.

You really hadn’t been thinking when you’d borrowed one of your best friend’s shirts. You’d had an impromptu sleepover, leaving you without a shirt to wear to bed. She dug through her drawers and tossed one towards you, laughing.

You scan the text on the front. “I LOVE DILFS” it read. You glanced up at her. “Seriously?” You said.

She just laughed. “You’re just wearing it to sleep, you’ll be fine.” You just roll your eyes and slump onto the bed next to her, nestling under the covers.

You’re awoken the next morning by your phone repeatedly ringing, and you yawn as you reach for it.

Seeing that it’s your dad, you groan and hit accept. “Are you just waking up?” He asks. Hello to you too, you thought.

“Yeah, I spent the night at a friends.” You reply. “Oh, well I have a favor to ask.” He said, and you could hear a shuffling noise in the background. “What’s that noise?” You ask him.

“I’m working on repairing this old car, but I need one of the parts for tomorrow.” He told you.

Before you could respond, he continued. “Since I wasn’t gonna be home when it got delivered, I had it sent to Miller’s house. Think you could go pick it up? I won’t be home till late, so you can just leave it on the table.” You groan internally. Of course he’d have it delivered there.

Your dad and Mr.Miller, or Joel as he’d insist you call him, were lifelong friends. They’d known each other since high school, and still hung out from time to time. It’s not that you didn’t like Joel, in fact it was the complete opposite. You liked him too much.

As a kid, you’d always seen him as a sort of uncle figure, but that changed as you got older. Now, you couldn’t be around him without being reduced to a blushing and stuttering mess.

You snap out of your thoughts and realize your dad is still waiting on a response. “Yeah, I’ll grab it. I’m leaving here in a few minutes.” You say.

“Thanks sweetheart, I’ll see you later tonight. Bye.” With that, he hangs up the phone. You turn around and see your friend grinning at you.

“What?” You ask. She smirks. “You have to go to Joel’s house~” She sings. You toss one of her pillows at her. “Shut up.” She laughs and throws it back at you, and you place it down onto the bed.

You finish packing your stuff, and your friend walks you outside to your car. You wave her goodbye and she wishes you luck with a wink, which you scoff at.

The drive back home is about twenty minutes, so you decide to take the longer route. The less time you have to see Joel, the better. You pull up to your house, and exit the car.

Once you’ve put all your stuff away, you pull a jacket on and head over to Joel’s house. It’s winter time in Texas and although it wasn’t freezing, it was still pretty cold. You walk up the front porch steps, and ring the doorbell. You wait a minute or so, and there’s no answer.

As soon as you lift your fist to knock, the door swings open. Joel peers down at you, dressed in a stained white muscle shirt and a pair of gym shorts. He must’ve been working out.

You swallow hard, trying to remember what it is you’re here for. “Oh, it’s you. Hey kiddo, c’mon in.” Joel says, ushering you inside. You smile at him.

“Thank you, Mr.Miller.” He shuts the door. “Call me Joel, sweetheart.” He tells you. You know the name doesn’t hold any weight behind it, but it still gives you butterflies nonetheless.

“You caught me right in the middle of my workout.” He says, using a towel to wipe the sweat off his face. You try to not let your eyes wander to the droplets rolling down his neck, no doubt cascading down his abs.

Joel doesn’t seem to notice that you’re distracted, and carries on. “How about you take your coat off and stay a while?” He asks.

Your heart skips a beat. “Actually, my dad just wanted me to pick something up.” You told him. His face dropped slightly. “Oh, right.” He replied, gesturing to the package sitting on his table.

“I could stay for a little though, I’ve got nothing to do today.” You told him, mentally cursing yourself for being unable to say no to him.

He brightened up. “Atta girl, I’ll grab you a beer.” On his way to the fridge, he stopped. “You’re old enough to drink right?” He asked.

You stifle a laugh. “I’m 24 Joel, yes.” You reply. He just chuckles and rummages around the fridge, pulling out two cans. He sits at a comfortable distance from you on the couch, and cracks his open.

You inadvertently watch the way his muscles ripple as he lifts the can to his mouth and takes a sip. He groans and places it down on the table.

“So, how’ve things been? Staying out of trouble?” He asks. You shrug your coat off, nodding.

“For the most part, yeah.” Joel’s eyes “accidentally” flick down to your chest as you do so, and his breath catches in his throat. He’s blushing. “Interesting shirt you got there.” He says.

You give him a confused glance, and then look down. “Oh, shit. This is my friend's shirt, I completely forgot I borrowed it from her.”

Joel’s grip on the can tightens, the metal bending under his grasp, his veins popping out slightly. “So that’s what you’re into these days?” He asks. “Dilfs?”

You laugh. “I’m surprised you even know what that means.” You reply. Joel smiles, some of the awkwardness dissipating. “Hey, I’ve been around. I’m not that old.” He teases. You watch as he leans back against the couch. “Your dads been good?” He asks.

You nod your head. “Yeah, he won’t be home until late because he’s working on something.” You tell him. You don’t miss the way Joel’s gaze darkens at your words.

“Yeah?” He says. He’s staring at you now. You shift a little under his gaze, big doe eyes staring up at him.

“Mhm. Might be out all night.” You murmur. He’s so close now. You can feel his breath fanning across your cheek. “Tell me to stop.”

He whispers it almost pleadingly, hand coming up to cup your cheek. Part of him knows this is wrong, that your dad will kill him if he finds out. The other part of him doesn’t care though, he just needs you so bad.

You lean into his touch. “Don’t stop.” You tell him. Joel curses under his breath and then he’s kissing you, his lips warm and slightly chapped.

You moan into his mouth and he loses control, wrapping his arms around your waist. When you pull away to breathe, he starts to kiss your neck. “Joel..” You mewl, moving to tug his shirt off. He complies, helping you pull it off.

You drag your nails up and down his bare skin, and he shivers. “Take me to your bed?” You ask. He nods and scoops you into his arms, heading towards his bedroom. He kicks the door open and places you gently on the bed, before shutting the door.

He immediately begins to remove your shirt, dropping it to the ground. He kisses down your chest, pulling a hardened nipple into his mouth. You arch your back, whimpering softly. Joel nearly growls at your reaction, and moves to pinch the other between his fingers.

You’re squirming underneath his ministrations, and he decides to take pity on you. He helps you shuffle your jeans off, leaving you in just your underwear.

Your arousal is evident through the fabric, a wet patch staining it. Joel groans low in his throat, dragging a single finger up your slit. You buck your hips into his touch, a soft whine leaving your throat. “Joel..” You mumble.

He leans in and kisses you to distract you, while he slips his fingers into your panties. He quickly finds your clit, brushing his thumb across it.

Your breath hitched. He slides them off with ease, adding them to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Something about him being fully clothed while you were naked sent a rush of arousal through you.

Joel stands and pulls his tank top up over his head, wiping the sweat off his face with it. You catch a glimpse of his chiseled abs and the happy trail leading down his pelvis. He notices you staring and slips his gym shorts off.

Your eyes drop down to his bulge. He’s huge, bigger than any guy you’d ever been with, and he wasn’t even fully naked yet. You wait with baited breath as he slowly pulls his boxers down, revealing his hard cock. Jesus Christ.

He takes it between his hands, stroking it gently. “Open.” He tells you. You comply, letting your mouth drop open. He guides himself into your mouth, and you close your lips around him. He groans. “Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

He barely gives you time to adjust and he starts rocking his hips back and forth, his cock hitting the back of your throat. The sounds he’s pulling from you are obscene, wet and messy. You swipe your tongue across his tip, and he curses under his breath.

“I gotta pull out baby, m’ not gonna last long.” He tells you. You let your jaw go slack, and he pulls out. He begins to dig through his drawers, and you peer over at him.

“What’re you doing?” You ask. He grabs a box. “Condom.” He replies, pulling one of its package. You chew your bottom lip. “I’m clean.” Joel sighs.

“That ain’t my concern, sweetheart. I don’t need to be knockin’ you up, your daddy would kill me.” You pout. “I’ll go get a plan B after.” He groans. “You’re a stubborn one, ain’t you?” He asks.

“I mean, we don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it.” You told him. He shakes his head. “That’s not it, I just didn’t want you to feel like you have to.” He said. You smile.

“What a gentleman.” You tease. He grins bashfully, looking down. “Yeah, you know me. So what’ll it be?” Your cheeks flush. “We don’t need it.” You tell him. He nods.

“Sounds good to me.” He tosses it to the side, and positions himself between your spread legs. He drags himself slowly up and down your slick folds, groaning quietly.

“Joel, please.” You urge him. He shakes his head. “No baby, you gotta beg me. C’mon, use that pretty mouth.”

“Please fuck me Joel, I need it.” You plead with him, looking up at him through your lashes. He gives in, and pushes into you agonizingly slow. Despite not being a virgin, it still stung a bit because of his size.

Once he was all the way in, he kissed your forehead. “Stay still baby. Get used to it.” He tells you. You do as he says, and a few minutes pass. You wiggle your hips, and a jolt of pleasure shoots up your spine. “You ready?” Joel asks. You nod.

He lifts one of your legs over his shoulders, and repeats the process with the other. Your body is pressed against him now, his skin flush against yours. He slowly starts to fuck you, reveling in how tight you are around him. “You’re so fucking pretty..” Joel murmurs against your lips.

You let yourself melt into his touch, knowing he’ll take care of you. His cock drags up and down your walls, lighting a fire in your belly. Joel grunts.

“Fuck, look at you. All spread open for me.” You whimper and lean up to kiss him, which he happily obliges. He gives you a hard thrust, and you moan into his mouth.

“Fuck, you feel that in your tummy, princess? You feel how deep I am?” You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. “Feels so good, Joel.” You tell him. He smirks. “That’s not my name baby.”

You wrack your brain, trying to think of what he means. Then, it hits you. “Daddy?” You say.

His smirk widens, and you feel his cock throb. “There you go.” He replied. You look up at him.

“Didn’t think you were that much of a pervert.” You tease. He raises an eyebrow. “The way you’re squeezin’ around my cock says otherwise, baby.” He tells you.

He hikes your legs up onto his shoulders, pushing deeper into you. “Oh, fuck-“ He grunts, muscles straining. You watched his arms flex as he held you in place, thrusting in and out of you.

“Christ, you’re tight. Them college boys ain’t doing it for ya, huh?” He asks with a smirk. You moan, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts. “No daddy.” You reply, reaching between your legs to find your clit.

“You let them fuck you like this, baby? You let them fill you up?” He asks you, a possessive edge to his tone. You whimper.

“No daddy, just you.” You reply. He laughs, reaching down to cup your cheek. “That’s right baby, this is my pussy from now on. Understand, sweetheart?”

You’re so cockdrunk now, that all you can do is nod dumbly as he continues to thrust into you. He just grins and slips his thumb into your mouth.

“Atta girl, just needed to be taken care of, huh?” He murmurs, pushing it deeper into your mouth. “Yes daddy.” You sigh contentedly as he continues at a steady pace.

You wrap your arms around him and pull him closer, dragging your manicured nails down his back. You wince, hoping you hadn’t scratched him too hard.

He groans and speeds up, the tip of him pressing right against your cervix. He has you in a mating press now, thrusting wildly. “I’m getting close sweetheart, you sure you don’t want me to pull out?” He asks you.

You lock your legs around his waist, your pussy gripping him tighter. “No. Want you to cum inside daddy, want you to fill me up.” You tell him, dragging your nails down his bicep.

He curses under his breath and spills inside you, muttering obscenities. You climax shortly after him, and slump down further into the bed. You both bask in the afterglow of your orgasms, while Joel presses gentle kisses all over your face. You sigh happily and look over at him.

“You’ve been real pent up huh?” You ask with a smirk. He playfully shoves you. “Shut up, I usually last longer than that.” He replies.

You chuckle. “I’ll have to put that to the test next time.” He raises an eyebrow. “There’s gonna be a next time?” You blush.

“Well, I just figured maybe-“ He cuts you off with a laugh. “I’m just teasing, baby. Listen, how about I take you out to dinner? You free Sunday?” He asks. You nod.

“Yeah, I’m free.” He grins. “Good. C’mon, I’ll help you into the bath and then we can order take out. That alright with you?”

You nod and lift your arms up, causing him to chuckle. “You wanna be carried, princess?” He asked, gathering you into his arms.

You slump against him, exhausted. He holds you with one arm as he turns on the water and warms it up, letting the tub fill.

He gradually adds bubbles, to which you raise an eyebrow. “You take bubble baths?” You ask him. He chuckles sheepishly, hand coming to scratch his cheek.

“They say it’s supposed to help relax you.” He replies. You shrug, sinking down into the water. “I’m not complaining.” The scent of lavender hits your nose as Joel climbs into the tub with you.

He looks a bit funny, hunched over and hugging his knees to make room for himself. He grabs a bottle of flowery shampoo, and you smirk.

“You got a lot of ladies showering here, Miller?” He rolls his eyes and uncaps the bottle. “It’s for when Sarah visits. Now do you want me to wash your hair or not?”

You respond by leaning your head back, dipping your hair into the water. Joel smiles at that and begins rubbing the shampoo into his hands.

He massages it through your scalp and you close your eyes, sighing in contentment. He finishes up with the shampoo and cups the water in his hands, washing it out.

He repeats the process with the conditioner, and starts washing his own hair. Once he’s finished, he turns the water off and stands up, pulling you with him. He grabs two fluffy towels from the closet, and wraps one around you.

“You good with Chinese food?” He asks, ruffling his hair with the towel. You nod. “Yeah, get beef lo mein too.” You tell him. He laughs, shooting you a glance.

“Demanding.” He teases. You roll your eyes, crossing the room and letting the towel drop. Joel falls silent, his eyes dropping down to admire your body.

“What were you saying?” You ask with a smirk. He blushes. “The beef one you said?” He asks. You nod, moving to tug his towel off. He bites his lip.

“I’m not sure I have another one in me, sweetheart.” He tells you. You hum. “I know. Just wanted to take a look.” He laughs and exits the bathroom, dropping the towels into a laundry basket.

When he gets to his room, he dresses in a pair of boxer shorts and an old t shirt. When he hands you one of his shirts, you pull it on over your head and smile at him. “It’s big on you, but you look good in my clothes.” He tells you.

You grin. “Not the only thing that’s big.” You tell him, leaning into him. He rolls his eyes. “Oh, and I’m a pervert?” He asks jokingly. You don’t respond, instead opting to pull him into a kiss.

Joel kisses you back, his tongue sliding across your bottom lip. Your stomach growling is what forces you two apart, and you blush.

“You gonna order that food?” You ask him. He grins and wraps an arm around you, leading you to sit down on the couch.

“Sure thing sweetheart.”

#dbf!joel #dbf joel miller #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller smut #joel smut #joel miller tlou #joel miller the last of us #joel the last of us #the last of us joel

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holllandtrash · 1 year

Text

6 to 1 | lando norris (part 7)

pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader part 7 in the 6 to 1 series (read part 1 here)

the lead up to the silverstone race is treacherous, painful and downright confusing, and you're not referring to the weather. you find yourself being pulled in different directions and just when you think you've figured it out, your path leads you right back to where you started in the first place

word count: 6.9k tags/warnings: just a lot of angst im sorry

Usually, when you attended the races, you were there all weekend. From Friday morning till the end of the podium ceremony on Sunday. But for Silverstone, you were dreading walking into that track and seeing Charles so you pushed back your travel plans and decided to only go for the race.

Lando ordered a car for you to take to the hotel Saturday night, something that he really didn’t have to do but he insisted on it and you were starting to figure out which battles to pick with him. This was not one of them.

He had to be at the hotel with his team Wednesday night, so you really didn’t get to spend too much time with him after the shoot with Quadrant.

Which, honestly, you were okay with. You needed to pack as you were heading straight back to Monaco the following Monday with Charles and Arthur. You weren’t looking forward to that plane ride. If you were lucky, Charles would have a good weekend and he wouldn’t bring up Lando.

But the second the car pulled up to the hotel, a few drops of rain hit the windshield. The driver made a comment about how conditions would only get worse for tomorrow and you so desperately wanted to ignore the possibility of a wet race, however that seemed to be what everyone was talking about in the lobby.

You picked up your room key and texted both Lando and Charles that you arrived. Lando texted you back immediately saying he was in a briefing with his team but that he’d stop by your room after and Charles, without any context, sent you '1125'. His room number.

You dropped your luggage off, but didn’t give yourself any time to settle in before heading up the few levels to floor 11. Charles didn’t have to say anything other than his room number, you got the hint. He needed to talk to you.

The door swung open as soon as you knocked.

“Look I don’t want to fight,” you started off, already sounding defensive as you followed Charles into the hotel room.

“I don’t want to fight either,” Charles agreed with you, opening up the mini fridge to pull out a bottle of water. “I just want to know what’s going on in your head, Y/N. What are you doing getting involved with a driver?”

“Lando’s just a friend,” but even you didn’t believe your own words.

Charles gave you a look, one that told you he saw right through your bullshit and you pulled your fingers through your hair, needing a way out of this that didn’t paint you or Lando as the bad guy.

“Okay fine,” you shrugged helplessly. “I like him, I think. Is that what you want me to say? It’s not as though I’m dating him and even if I was, what’s the big deal?”

You probably didn’t need to add that last question. It was just an open invitation for Charles to tell you everything that was weighing heavy on his mind.

“This is a dangerous sport, Y/N, but this is what all of us drivers have signed up for.” Charles started off with what you already knew before hitting you where it would hurt. “We know the risks when we get in the cars, but we don’t have to think about anything besides what’s on the track…” his pause was deafening. “But if you started dating him, that’s an entirely new element that’s now being introduced to the race.”

You scoffed, “No it’s-”

Charles held up his hand. “Listen to me, Y/N. You would be on the back of my mind if I’m ever even near him on the track. And you’ll always be on his. He might stop pulling risky moves, knowing that if anything happened to him, it would destroy you and not only that, there would be no more racing between us because subconsciously, you’ll be in the cars with us, telling us not to fight, not to put our lives at even more risk.”

He reasons for you not wanting to date a driver lined up with yours, but he was able to offer it from the perspective behind the wheel.

“It’s the same reason why I’m terrified for Arthur to ever move up to F1,” Charles further explained. “I would jeopardise my own race for him, for his safety. I would do anything to protect him and I would do anything to protect you. If you started dating Lando, then that need to look after you, automatically extends to him.”

You felt sick. You needed to lean against the wall behind you, feeling your legs grow numb. The worry in Charles’ eyes assured you that he was no longer upset or mad about you going behind his back to hang out with Lando, he was now concerned for what lay ahead.

“I love you and I want you to be happy, I want nothing more than for you to find a partner to be happy with,” Charles rubbed his hand over his face as he shook his head. This was as painful for him to get out as it was for you to hear. “But selfishly, I don’t want you to put your happiness in another driver.”

There really wasn’t anything for you to say. Charles had every right to be selfish. This was his career, his life. You weren’t supposed to be any more intertwined in it than you already were.

You pushed yourself off the wall, ignoring the sinking feeling in your stomach as you turned to walk towards the door.

Charles tried to follow, “Y/N, I didn’t mean-”

You held up a hand towards him as you turned and forced a smile on your face. You really didn’t want to fight. You loved your brother, you wanted to respect what he was asking. He had given you so much. Because of him, you had dozens upon dozens of opportunities and met the most incredible people.

You could give up this thing with Lando, whatever it was. And better you did it now before it became too hard to walk away.

“You should get some sleep” you told Charles, your voice almost caught in your throat. “I’ll, um, I’ll see you in the morning.”

You left his room without another word. The elevator ride back to your floor was slow, treacherous even as you thought about what sort of conversation you needed to have with Lando.

You’d wait till after the race. It wouldn’t do anyone any favours to call this whole thing off right before his home race. The least you could do was wait until after to break his heart.

But then the elevator opened and you saw the driver who had taken up all of your thoughts leaning against your hotel room door. He put his phone away when he looked up and spotted you. His smile broke you. For so long you wanted to be the reason for it and now you were going to be the cause of why it would disappear.

“How was the drive?” Lando asked, stepping out of the way for you to unlock the door. “It’s starting to rain, hey? The team thinks it’ll be pretty bad for most of the race tomorrow but what’s Silverstone without a little-”

“Lando,” you cut him off promptly, turning the handle to push the door open. You met his eyes for a second before you had to look away, before he could catch on that something was wrong. “Look, I’m really tired, I just want to go to sleep, I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” Lando was a little taken aback, but he didn’t try to talk you into staying up. He reached forward and gave your hand a squeeze, “Okay, yeah, get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

All you wanted to do was pull him into your hotel room and spend the next few hours with him until he had to leave to go to bed. Even then, you’d probably be able to convince him to just spend the night with you.

But you couldn’t do that. The most you could do was offer up a sliver of a smile before walking into the room and letting the door shut behind you.

Suddenly, a wet race for tomorrow seemed like the least of your worries.

You arrived at Silverstone with Charles. He had tried to talk to you all morning and it wasn’t as though you were mad at him, you were just frustrated with the position he had put you in.

It didn’t help that the second you scanned your badge and stepped past the gates, you felt the first raindrop of the day hit your cheek. You looked up, and even with the dark shades on, it was impossible to miss the incoming storm clouds.

“Wet race today, hey?”

You turned over your shoulder to see Pierre scanning his badge as well. The two of you hadn’t spoken at all since your conversation in Montreal. You asked yourself why you even stopped walking to wait for him, especially since Charles had gone off ahead to get out of the rain.

“Still giving me the cold shoulder?” Pierre asked as he approached you. The two of you started walking down the paddock, thankfully the Ferrari motorhome was close.

“Still telling everyone we slept together?” You retorted and Pierre dipped his head back and laughed.

“Chérie, I told like four, maybe five people,” Pierre tried to play it off, but when he saw you weren’t about to give him the time of day, he grabbed your hand and forced you to stop walking. “Come on, we’re friends. Don’t cut me off like this.”

“No, you and Charles are friends,” you hastily pulled your hand away from his grasp. “I’m just someone who got caught up in the moment.”

It blew your mind how cocky Pierre could be sometimes. It almost made you want to tell Charles what happened just because you knew it would cause a fight between them. Maybe Pierre would second guess his actions if he was getting yelled at by his best friend.

And that way, Charles would have something else on his mind besides you and Lando. If anything bad happened on the track, not like you want something to happen, he could blame it on finding out about Pierre and you. Surely learning that his closest friend and sister slept together was much worse than whatever this fling was that you currently had with Lando.

Speaking of Lando…

You hadn’t even seen him walk through the gates. Your frustration, and therefore your attention, was solely on Pierre. It wasn’t until the bright orange hoodie became impossible to ignore that you pulled your eyes away from the French driver.

Recently when you looked at Lando, you felt a swarm of butterflies attack your stomach.

Those butterflies were still there, but it was as if they were now trying to claw their way out of your stomach, fighting each other and making you suffer the consequences.

You didn’t want to end things.

You wanted to meet him halfway as he approached you and collapse in his arms, who cares who saw? You wanted to kiss him without a time limit and wish him good luck today. You wanted to hang out in the fucking McLaren motorhome which is something you never thought you’d ever find yourself wishing for.

“Little gloomy today, huh?” Lando asked, sounding a lot chipper than how you or Pierre looked.

You glanced up, as did Pierre and you shrugged. The less you spoke now, the easier it would be to end things later.

“It’s not too bad yet,” Pierre pointed out.

“Oh I was talking about Y/N’s outfit,” Lando joked, nudging your arm with his elbow. “What’s with the all bla- are you okay?” Lando's smile dropped and his tone did a 180 the second he noticed you weren’t in the mood for one of his jokes. He glanced between you and Pierre and not so subtly raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t do anything this time!” Pierre announced, hands held up beside his head in defence as he started to walk away. “Paddock Princess over here was in a bad mood before I said anything.”

You watched him head off for a second before your attention went back to Lando. You tried to dodge his hand when he reached for your sunglasses but he was too quick, pulling them right off your face.

“You’ve been crying.”

“You should get inside before it really starts to rain.”

“Look either we keep stating the obvious or we talk about what’s going on,” Lando demanded, not giving you any other option. There was no lighthearted tone any more, no more playful attitude like he usually had when he saw you in the Paddock.

More people started to walk through the gates, people that were going to want Lando’s attention if he didn’t keep walking, you both knew this.

“Can we not have this conversation right here?” You asked him, lowering your voice as you nervously glanced around. Ideally, you wouldn’t even be having this conversation.

And in a strange twist of fate, you got what you wanted.

Lando could see right through you, he saw the hesitation just from your stance alone. The guilt in your eyes was clear even if they were slightly puffy and bloodshot. They way you refused to hold eye contact for more than a few seconds told him that something heavy weighed on your shoulders, something heavy enough to take out the both of you.

And Lando didn’t want to have this conversation either.

He might not have known exactly what was on your mind, but he didn’t need to ask anything to know it wasn’t good. That and how quick you were to turn him away last night, it was all starting to add up. No words needed to be spoken.

He handed your sunglasses back to you and nodded slightly, like he was accepting the outcome of this, like he knew he couldn’t change your mind, so why bother trying? He walked right past you without saying anything, but that’s what you wanted right?

No conversation was easier than laying it all out on the table. It was easier to accept the reality as it was than to hear yourself say the words ‘we can’t be together’.

You slid the sunglasses back on your face and waited a few seconds before heading towards Ferrari, making sure to stay on the opposite side of the paddock. Neither one of you so much as glanced at the other. You heard his name being called before you walked up the bright red steps and the moment you entered the motorhome, you let out the heaviest exhale that had been pressing against your chest.

Was it even reasonable for you to be reacting like this? You weren’t even dating.

But you were throwing away the possibility of something great, all because you knew you had to put Charles first.

He was the first person you saw when you walked inside and gathered your bearings. He was in the middle of a conversation with his assistant when you grabbed his arm and pulled him away.

“I hope you’re happy,” you spoke through a bitter laugh. “Me and Lando are done.”

He seemed confused, but when his features softened after a moment, you could tell that he was in fact pleased to hear this news.

“Good,” Charles nodded. “You shouldn’t date a driver anyway.”

“No you shouldn’t have this much say over my life, Charles,” you rubbed your hands over your face, letting what was once sorrow turn to anger. “It’s not fucking fair.”

“It’s not fair?” He raised his voice as well, neither of you caring about the handful of people that were nearby. “I put my life at risk every weekend, the least you could do is not give me something else to think about when I get in the car!”

“You don’t have to think about anything other than the points, don't worry.” You assured him. The venomous tone was impossible to miss. “And good luck today. Hopefully my heartbreak doesn’t ruin your race for you.”

Charles groaned, rolling his eyes at how dramatic he thought you were being, “Y/N-”

“Oh, no, wait, you only give a shit about my feelings when I start caring about a driver other than you, right?” You patted his shoulder, a bit of force behind it as you sucked in a sharp breath. “Brother of the year, over here.”

You walked past him and he was smart by not trying to talk to you, instead choosing to go up to his drivers room. You sat down on the couch in the hospitality lounge, lips pursed together tightly as the sound of raindrops hitting the window behind you started to grow loud enough to drown out your own thoughts.

You would have loved nothing more than for the race to start, to stand in the back of the garage and flip Charles off before he slid his helmet on. You wanted to flirt with Carlos right in front of your brother before he was inevitably dragged away. You wanted to watch the race and cheer Lando on for a change. You wanted to do anything and everything that would purposely get under his skin.

But things never seemed to work out in your favour.

It was announced the race was postponed due to the oncoming storm and you stayed right there on that couch, watching everyone else scurry around to figure out the new game plan for the day.

Charles' assistant tried talking to you at one point, but you just shook your head. She got the hint and turned right around.

You weren’t in the mood to talk to anyone in the motorhome, that was pretty obvious. If the all black outfit wasn’t enough to deter people away already, your constant crossed arms and the fact that you wore sunglasses inside sure had people second guessing whether or not they wanted to approach you during the wait.

A couple hours went by and you received a few curious looks, but the only person who didn’t give a single fuck that you were purposely trying to look reclusive, was Carlos.

He dropped down on the couch beside you, arm stretched on the back of the couch behind your shoulders as he playfully twisted the end of your ponytail around his fingers.

You yanked your hair out of his hand, “What do you want, Carlos?”

“Why are you in a bad mood?” He was straight to the point, you liked that about your friendship. There wasn’t any bullshit.

“I’m not,” okay maybe there was a little bullshit.

“Okay,” Carlos nodded, going right back to playing with your hair, “Why is Charles in a bad mood?”

“I don't know, it’s not my problem.”

“I think it is, hermosa,” Carlos snickered, “I think you two are each other's problems.”

“Fine, you know what,” you turned on the couch to face him. Carlos was a bit taken aback to see you give in and talk so easily, “Charles’ problem is that he thinks my life affects his and my problem is that I care too much about what Charles thinks. Do you see how this is a bad cycle for us to be in?”

Carlos paused. You could tell by the way his jaw tensed he was trying to figure out what to say, but you were purposely vague and the more time that passed with you just staring at the Ferrari driver, the more it sank in for both of you that he probably couldn’t help you.

“Is this about Lando?” Carlos eventually asked. “And how about how you two have been getting close recently?”

You inhaled a sharp breath, “This is about me practically being forced to put Charles first.”

“As opposed to…”

“Putting myself first.”

Carlos raised his eyebrows. Everything you said was just adding to the confusion and you eventually just gave up trying to keep it bottled in.

You repeated what Charles had told you last night. You told Carlos about the added risks Charles had if you started dating a driver, you shared the concerns and how guilty you felt for wanting to see things through with Lando when you knew you owed it to Charles to call things off. You expressed that you were upset and angry and broken and confused at the same time, which shouldn't have been possible.

“He told me he didn’t want me to put my happiness in a driver,” you rested your elbow on the couch, cheek to palm as you tried to ignore the pain of Charles’ words for the second time in less than 12 hours.

Carlos didn’t say anything for a few seconds. And then those seconds turned into a minute. And then that minute turned into three and you had to hit his arm to get him to look at you, worried that he had been thinking too hard and accidentally zoned out.

“Carlos,” your eyebrows furrowed together, “Say something.”

He opened his mouth, only to close it once again. You rubbed your hand over your face, wondering why you decided an F1 driver would make a good therapist.

“I just-” Carlos couldn’t get the words out. “I don’t get it, is all. When we get in the car, we know that nothing else matters except the race. Charles doesn’t have the right to pull you into the car with him, metaphorically of course. If he does that and messes up his race, that’s his own fault.”

You wished that was the case, but Charles didn’t see it like that.

“Okay, let’s say you were dating a driver, Lando, for example” Carlos started off, dragging his fingers over his lower lip. “Charles is the one who needs to learn how to separate it. He needs to learn when it’s time to see Lando as the competition and when to see Lando as the person who makes you happy.” Carlos dropped his hand to your leg, “That isn’t on you. That’s on him.”

“But it’s just going to make his life difficult and I don’t want that for him.”

“Charles is a grown man I think he can figure it out,” Carlos’s assuring smile spread across his face. “Plus with the amount of gossip that goes on in the paddock, I don’t get why this, your happiness, is what he’s choosing to make you feel guilty for.”

You nodded in agreement before Carlos’ words actually hit you.

“Wait,” you pointed a finger at him. “What gossip?”

Carlos instantly knew he messed up, “I didn’t-”

“What. Gossip.”

But his silence said it all. This fucking Pierre bullshit was coming back to haunt you again. You dropped your hands to your face and let out a muffled scream. There were a handful of people who were nearby who gave you a look of concern, but none of them mattered.

When you looked at Carlos again, his face had gone red.

“So you know and Charles knows?” You asked. “About me and Pierre?”

“Well he doesn’t-” he shrugged. “Charles has an idea but he’s not going to ask you or Pierre about it. He can pretend it didn’t happen if you never confirm it.”

“But he knows,” you clarified. It wasn’t your fault that Charles just wouldn’t accept the reality of what happened. “He knows and yet somehow, that doesn’t affect him on the track? He can race Pierre like normal but the second I’m actually happy with someone, it’s game over?”

Again, Carlos didn’t know how to respond and this time, you weren’t sticking around and waiting for him to. You stood up from the couch and walked up the stairs of the motorhome, knowing your brother was in his driver's room. Carlos was hot on your heels, probably regretting having dug this past up because whether he liked it or not, he was now caught in the middle of it.

You didn’t even knock on Charles’ door, you just swung it open. Charles was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone, half dressed for the upcoming race. His fireproof long sleeve was on but his drivers’ suit was hanging around his hips. He looked up at you, confused as to why you just barged in.

You just blurted it out.

“J'ai baisé Pierre.” I fucked Pierre.

Charles’ mouth dropped.

You repeat yourself, in English this time. “I had sex with Pierre.”

He stood up, looking at Carlos behind you for help, but Carlos was just as stunned as he was.

Finally, you said it in Italian, just to get the message across loud and clear. “Ho dormito con il tuo migliore amico." I slept with your best friend.

Charles was speechless. He tried to sputter out the word ‘what’ but he had no voice. He just kept shaking his head, as if that would do anything.

“And-” you decided to keep going. Everything was already up in flames so why not keep feeding the fire, right?

You turned and grabbed Carlos’ shirt to pull him towards you. Before he had time to react, you pressed your lips to his. For a second, you did panic about not knowing whether or not he would even consent to this but when you felt Carlos start to kiss you back after a few seconds, presumably forgetting his teammate and your brother was standing right in front of you, you figured it was fine.

You pulled back and looked at Charles, “-I just kissed your teammate.”

“What the fuck-”

“I like Lando,” you harshly cut him off.

This was the first time you were saying it without the word maybe in front or i think following it. This was also the first time you didn’t feel any sort of hesitation. It was freeing.

“I like him. And I don’t know how strong these feelings are, I don’t know if they’ll last, all I know is that he makes me so stupidly happy, and selfishly-” you used his word against him. “-I want to hold onto that for as long as I can.”

You felt Carlos tap your shoulder and you held up a finger towards him, indicating that this was not the time to dissect that kiss.

Charles looked ready to strangle you. And Carlos, but mostly you. “Y/N why are you saying this? Why did you just kiss him?” He gestured to his teammate. “What the fuck is going on? I race today and you think it’s smart to drop all of this on me?”

“Charles, you seem to think that what happens in my life affects yours, more specifically affects what you do on the track and I don’t think that’s the case.” You took a step forward, keeping your voice as calm and reasonable as possible as you said what you should have told him last night.

“Really, it’s just what you choose to do with the information that you’re given and now you know everything. Now there’s three drivers on the track you might see differently as opposed to one and I know you. I know you’re a strong enough driver, and strong enough mentally, to not let any of this get to you. If you want your emotions to get in the way when you’re in the car, that’s on you. That’s not on me.”

There was definitely an easier way to go about this conversation. You didn’t have to walk in announcing you had sex with his best friend and kissing Carlos probably wasn’t needed, but it all furthered your point.

“My life is intertwined with yours. It has been since I decided to accompany you to all of these races and yes, I will be your biggest supporter but I will also live my own life at the same time,” slowly but surely you could see Charles' shoulders drop as he started to untense. “You can’t blame my feelings for Lando if you have a shitty race, okay? You can’t blame me.”

You started to back up and Carlos stepped out of the way for you.

“Where the hell are you going now?” Charles asked.

“To fix things,” you waved off his concern and practically ran down the stairs and out the front doors of Ferrari.

You were sprinting as you made your way down the paddock. The rain was coming down hard now and your eyes were set on the McLaren motorhome.

You probably looked insane. Running down the puddle-filled paddock in platform boots without an umbrella but in all honesty, this was probably the best time for a grand gesture. Everyone who worked for the media was finding shelter right now, you were in the clear.

You walked up the steps but someone from the team who had been standing outside under the awning stopped you before you could reach for the door.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Leclerc, you can’t just go in there, not without an invitation,” he told you, obviously recognising you as being Charles’ sister. It made sense. You were, by association, with Ferrari.

“I need to talk to Lando,” you wiped at your eyes, pushing the wet strands of hair out of your face. You felt around for your phone but came up empty handed, figuring you must have left it back on the couch in Ferrari. “Please, two seconds. That’s all I need. Tell him I need to talk to him.”

He held up a finger and opened the door to head inside. You waited for a second but your clothes were soaking, your hair was sticking to your face and neck. Your make up was ruined and the rain was freezing cold, so obviously you walked inside as well.

A hush fell over the motorhome when the door shut behind you. Mostly because you stood out like a sore thumb. Everyone was wearing orange, you were the only one dressed in all black and you were the only one who looked like they just jumped into a pool with all of their clothes on.

You smiled awkwardly, shoulders tightening as you pressed your back to the door. You were wondering who was going to say something first, who was going to kick you out, and surprisingly the one who spoke up was Oscar.

“For christ sakes get her a towel or something,” Oscar called out, standing up from the table he sat at. You mouthed a quick thank you to him.

You and Oscar had never exchanged a single word before, maybe a smile here or there, but you were truly appreciative that he acknowledged you as someone who just needed to dry off right now, not as someone who was associated with Ferrari.

Someone who worked with Hospitality crossed the floor with a few clean dish towels, telling you it was all she had at the moment. You thanked her and then looked up at Oscar who was also making his way to you.

“Hi,” you breathed out, ringing out your hair. “I know I shouldn’t be here-”

“Oh I don’t mind at all,” Oscar laughed. “I take it you’re here for Lando?”

You didn’t nod. You actually didn’t say anything, your mouth just fell open and you forgot how to breathe when you realised that Lando had most likely told his teammate about you.

“I might be,” you reluctantly answered. “I might also be here because I heard that you guys have the best espresso machine.”

“Espresso is a piss poor reason to venture outside during a storm.”

You chuckled, nodding in agreement as you wiped the cloth under your eyes. The amount of makeup that had transferred to the towel was horrendous. You didn’t even want to know what you looked like right now.

“Is he-” you glanced towards the staircase behind him. Why was it so hard for you to finish your sentences? Why was Lando clouding every one of your thoughts to the point that you couldn’t get more than a few words out? Why did he affect you so much?

At that moment, the security from earlier started to descend the stairs. Instinctively, you stood closer to Oscar, trying to make it seem as though he was the one who invited you in.

“He’s busy,” was all the McLaren employee said.

“Bullshit he’s busy,” you spat, coming across much harsher than you intended to. “The race is postponed, he’s not doing anything!”

“He told me to tell you he’s busy.”

You looked at Oscar, it was obvious he felt a little awkward standing in the middle of the conversation, but he wanted to help. What was good for his teammate was ultimately good for the team and Oscar so desperately hoped you weren’t here with malicious intent.

“You can hang out in my driver's room,” he offered, his lips curving upwards into a smile. Oscar turned to the security, “She’s my guest too, it’s fine.”

This employee knew Oscar was lying through his teeth and all three of you knew Oscar’s room was right next to Lando’s. But because you were given the go-ahead from a McLaren driver himself, he couldn’t do anything to prevent you from walking up the stairs, boots squeaking against the floor the entire way.

Glancing over your shoulder, you shot Oscar a thankful smile and he gave you a thumbs up. Part of you felt horrible for never giving him the time of day before. Subconsciously, you saw him as the driver who replaced Daniel and held a bit of a personal vendetta, but it was clear he had a good heart.

You waited until the security guard looked away before sneaking around the corner to where Lando’s room was located. You read his name on the plaque a few times and thought about knocking, but if he knew you were outside the door he wouldn’t open it.

So you turned the handle and pushed the door open. Lando wasn’t even in his racing suit, opting for a pair of joggers and a hoodie as he waited for the race start to be announced. He was leaning against the massage bed and looked up from his phone, barely even acknowledging you before turning right back to his phone.

“I don’t really feel up to chatting right now,” Lando muttered.

“Fine then just listen,” you walked in and shut the door behind you.

Your heart was pounding and you would have liked to blame your trembling on the fact that you were just standing in the rain but you knew it was because you were finally about to be honest with Lando.

“I think I made a mistake,” you stated. Lando didn’t look up, choosing to disregard your words. You couldn’t blame him. You went from barely being able to look at him a few hours ago to dramatically confessing your feelings. “I didn’t want to admit it before, but Lando I really- I like you.”

“Yeah you like a lot of things,” Lando was unamused as he scratched the side of his face. “You like chocolate cheesecake, you like daisies, you like Daniel’s merch-” he inhaled a sharp breath, still keeping his eyes on his phone. “You like speaking French over Italian, you like supporting the underdogs, you like that you have a presence in the Paddock.” This was taking a turn, “You don’t like driving, you like when someone understands your humour, you like putting your family first even if it means putting yourself last, you love cooking, you have a weird obsession with shitty movies.”

Finally he looked up.

“You like when people compliment you but you never know how to respond. You like being needed but you don’t like needing someone. You don’t like the unknown which is why a relationship scares you, regardless of who it's with. You like leading me on because you don’t care about the consequences afterwards and I fall for every word you say, every hypothetical you tease, because I think that maybe this time, it’ll be different, and do you want to know why I know all of this? Why I've put up with all of it?”

This seemed like a rhetorical question but you responded meekly anyway, “Why?”

Lando paused. He pushed himself away from the bench and walked towards you slowly. His jaw tightened, there was no trace of a smile. Even if what he had to say was good in nature, it was only going to destroy you.

“Because I like you,” he said, sounding so sure of himself and simultaneously like he wanted to take back those words the second he said them. “But I’m not about to waste my time at this halfway point with you. There’s a line here and I’m willing to cross it, to meet you so far past the middle it to make this work, but I don’t think you can say the same. So until you decide, fully and completely, what you want…stop stringing me along.”

Lando had never been so serious before.

Your entire friendship, relationship, whatever the fuck you wanted to call it, was playful and fun and he was the reason why your jaw hurt from laughing. He was the person who wanted to take care of you, to make you smile and now he was so close to giving up on all of that, all because you were going to put Charles first.

You genuinely couldn’t blame him. You had been back and forth for weeks. It may not have clicked until now, but you had been leading him on. He had done so much for you and practically overnight, you were nearly ready to forget all of it.

There was a knock on the door. Neither of you made the move to answer it, instead letting whoever was on the other side inform Lando through the wall that it was time to change and head down to the garage.

He was waiting for you to say something. He was waiting for you to tell him that you wanted him. And you knew you did, but why couldn’t you open your mouth? Why did your fears outweigh what was right in front of you? Why was it still so hard to let yourself be happy with Lando?

Lando nodded, accepting once again that no answer was probably better than the answer he didn’t want to hear. He gestured towards the handle of the door. Without saying a word, he was politely asking you to leave.

And because you still couldn’t say anything, because you couldn’t meet him halfway, you left. You stepped out in the hallway, avoiding the eyes of nearby McLaren employees as you walked down the stairs. You passed Oscar before reaching the front doors and he gave you a hopeful look, curious if all was worked out between you and his teammate.

You shook your head, still unable to find your voice.

When you stepped outside, it was still raining but it had eased up. It was a light drizzle compared to the storm you ran through earlier.

By the time you made it back to Ferrari, most people had already left to go to the pitlane and the garage.

An exception to that was Charles.

“Don’t,” you demanded. You didn’t want to hear anything from him, but he was clearly waiting for you. He didn’t comment on your rung out appearance or your smeared makeup. It wasn’t his place to, anyway. He just stood up and walked over to you, zipping up his racing suit in the process.

“I stand by what I said,” Charles declared and all you could do was roll your eyes as he continued. “You shouldn’t put your happiness in a driver.”

“And what if I already did?” You retorted, quite loudly. “What if I already did and I didn’t realise it until it was too late and now- and now I have nothing? What if I’m worse off now than I was before?”

For a split second, you could see it in his features. Charles was conflicted too.

There was Formula 1 driver Charles Leclerc. The man fighting for championship winning points. The guy who risked his life every time he stepped into the cockpit of the car.

And then there was your older brother. The one who hated that he was the one who put you in this situation. Your brother, the one who said he wanted to keep you safe, was the sole reason there was a sense of vulnerability and emptiness looming over you.

You didn’t feel those things because you had feelings for Lando. You felt those things because Charles made you feel guilty for supporting someone other than him.

And even after everything, after you came to the realisation that you wanted Lando, after you dropped a bombshell on your brother, after you ran across the paddock for some stupid grand gesture, where did you find yourself?

Standing in front of Charles.

No wonder Lando had his doubts with you.

“I can’t be here,” you admitted, your chest feeling tight once again. “I can’t watch the race, I’m sorry.”

For once, Charles wasn’t going to stand in your way. He had done enough damage.

“Take the plane back to Monaco if you want, there’s a car that will take you the airport-”

“No, I’m not going to Monaco,” you shook your head. Monaco was the last place you wanted to go. You didn’t want to walk into your empty flat. There was nothing for you there.

There was nothing for you here either. You couldn't stand to look at Charles. Lando wasn't going to talk to you until you figured out what your intentions were but you couldn't figure it out if you were watching a race. You needed to leave.

And you needed to go to the one place that actually felt like home.

masterlist here

taglist: @moneymasnn@thotd-f1 @masonspulisic @mcmuppet@f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @themisric @happydazzz123 @moonxblossom @norrisleclercf1 @scarlettisconfused @sbgal @e-lisa-bettan @harrysdimple05 @ophcelia @alesainz @fandomxs1 @majx00 @sbgal @mehrmonga @themockingjayreader @f1mockingjay @topguncultleader if i missed anyone im so sorry

#lando norris #lando norris au #lando norris instagram edit #lando norris social media au #lando norris fic #f1 requests #f1 #f1 fic #formula 1 #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #holllandtrash

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

Text

Yandere Cult Leader! Headcanons

Warnings: Toxic Behaviour, Obsessive Behaviour, Possessive Behaviour, Delusions of Grandeur, Narcissism, Manipulation, Indoctrination, Implications of Smut, Implications of Sexual Coercion, Kidnapping, False Imprisonment, Implication of Murder, Implications of Torture, Implication of Sexual Punishment/Reward, Implications of Pregnancy (Not of Reader), Poisoning, Stockholm Syndrome, Religious Themes, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, when he sees you for the first time, a quiver in your walk and your voice as you explain to him that your car just swerved into a tree, seemingly of its own accord, leaving you with no means of transportation, knows there is something different about you. Almost whimsical.

♡ Something that makes his stone heart stammer.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, when you shamble up to his front doorstep and plead for help, welcomes you with open arms into his house – the only one for miles – and tells you to “Take a seat. Please, make yourself comfortable !”

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, after finding out that you’re unfamiliar with the area, that you’re not privy to where anything or anyone is, hence you didn’t see whatever caused your car to swerve, can’t help but feel something hidden, dark, light up in the back of his mind.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who insists you “Stay the night; we’d be more than happy to have you !” And actively resists your declination, your promise that you’ll “Be fine if I can get to a hospital.”

♡ Yandere Cult Leader whose only elaboration on who “we” are comes in the form of taking you out the back of the house, which now you see is more like a manor, the front of the architecture being deceptively small and mousy, where, as far as the eye could see, a town slept. One filled with people – hundreds, it seemed – dressed in clothing so similar to one another that they formed a moving pattern.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, despite knowing there are always vacant houses available for any ‘late comers’ to his Association, tells you otherwise – that you will be “Staying with me.” Just until you’re better. Or the next morning, at the very least.

♡ With no phone signal and a growing headache, throupled with your limp, you feel you have little chance of survival out on the open road; especially at night.

♡ And, with what you suspect to be a concussion and no room to argue given how far from anything and everything you were, you accepted what you thought was a gracious offer.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader knows he has to act fast – while you’re still vulnerable and malleable.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, when he has one of his associates draw you a bath, takes your clothes and puts them somewhere only he knows, providing you with clothes of the same material and disposition as everyone else at the compound town.

♡ “For your comfort,” he says, smiling vaguely. “Those city garments looked awfully dirty and uncomfortable – especially since you’ve just had a nasty accident.”

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, when you ask for an ambulance, does one better, bringing you the ‘in-house doctor’ who tells him exactly what he wants to hear. That you’ll “Need to rest for the next week or so, just to be safe.”

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who thanks whatever deity aside from himself exists who has gifted him such a lenient timeframe to grant you ascension into his Family.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, standing just outside your guest bedroom, can’t help but smile, knowing that a week alone with you will be a cakewalk. He’s converted people in a single night before now. Albeit through practices he just can’t bring himself to use on you. Not in isolation, anyway.

♡ Despite the unfamiliar sense of urgency that twists his heart in directions it has never known.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who wastes no time in spinning a frivolous, magnificent story for you, proclaiming himself the mayor of this small, humble town, made up of hard-working folk – farmers, labourers, clothes makers; people who were driven from the city after industrialisation made it impossible for them to financially support themselves.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who revels in the way your eyes glimmer when he divulges his accolades to you, though does so with the modesty of one who sees it as their everyday life. Yet, he knows he has not captured your adoration yet. Another idol lives in your heart; a pop star, a film actor, a god of some description. Not him.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who promises to stamp this out of you. In time.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, in the couple of days after you arrived, commits every ounce of his free time to getting to know you, to understanding what makes you tick, what makes you submissive.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, being the only one in the Compound to understand your culture references outside of this town, having access to sources his Family does not, uses all his knowledge to create an image of himself as a relatable, well-adjusted member of society. Both yours, and his.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader can see you’re becoming more comfortable with him the longer he spends in your presence. And he picks up on your body language to know when you want to be left alone, when you want to speak with him, when you’re starting to feel uncomfortable for one reason or another, and acts accordingly.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, when you start to ask if you’ll be able to leave soon, knows what must be done.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader understands that, to create the perfect disciple, one must first give them the illusion of choice, and the illusion that, when given the chance to leave, they are making the right choice by deciding to stay.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader no longer accosts you when you go to leave the house anymore, instead feeding into your little fantasy that “You’re looking a lot healthier now ! I think you’re almost fully healed.” Even getting the doctor to confirm his false pleasantry musings.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, from the top floor of his sprawling manor, watches you interact with his Family. You’re so easy to track even without his assigned Protectors following you. You stick out with your mannerisms, your smile fresh and not derived from worship of him, but a million other things running through your mind.

♡ You’re a challenge. Oddly resilient to his attempts to charm you as not to want to spend every waking second in his presence as his disciples do. Then again, you’re much more strong-willed than them. Have something to live for.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, despite his goal of initiating as many people into his Family as he can, can’t deny that the more he knows about you – what little information you divulge to this perfect stranger – he feels…drawn to you. In the same way his disciples are to him.

♡ This, he cannot allow. Though he does humour this schoolboy feeling of his interest piquing, his heart fluttering whenever you laugh at his jokes, or relay something to him he never knew before.

♡ Sure, maybe he’s only known you for about a week at this point, but he knows potential when he sees it.

♡ And he’s seen it in you.

♡ Now it’s just a case of getting you – and it – to conform to his will.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, just like whenever he’s feeling overwhelmed or needs to dispel energy of a most nefarious nature, beds his willing disciples – those he knows will not say no, who will gladly take his seed, those who will bear him the fruits of his labour.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader lives for validation, and he’s essentially created his own serotonin farm to stroke his ego whenever he feels it deflating.

♡ And nothing makes Yandere Cult Leader’s ego swell more than seeing the women of his town with his children, knowing that they shall be his successors, the ones to continue his legacy, or fall into his personal army if they are too weak in the mind to take up his mantle.

♡ And that, he knows, is the root of all power. His power, at least.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, when he realises that people will start looking for you soon, decides to take matters into his own hands. He won’t let anyone take you from him. Not when there’s still so much he has to show you – to teach you.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who fabricates your demise – an unfortunate car accident – sacrificing one of his family collective to take your place in the car, similar to you in every aspect in your physicality; your hair colour, your height, your eyes. And the parts that can’t be faked – moles, tattoos, patches – he has his associates cover up with a fire sparked when the oil leaked into the car engine.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, in the meantime, starts thinking of ways to keep you inside – to stop you from seeing anyone else besides him, from potentially escaping.

♡ That, and he underestimated your likeability, noticing his disciples beginning to take to you with something akin to haste. Something akin to that which he felt for you.

♡ Attraction.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who sees this liking displayed when everyone is gathered in the hall for his talks, wherein he sees the odd person or two talking with you during his speeches. Something unheard of – straight-up forbidden – until now.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader decides not to punish you for this transgression. After all, you’re new ! You don’t know how everything works here (he’s made sure of that). But the initiator…

♡ Yandere Cult Leader makes sure they learn their lesson – a little etiquette in obedience. And you won’t be seeing them again for a while.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader doesn’t just see you as a distraction for himself anymore, but a potential weapon against his power.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader isn’t stupid. On the contrary, he’s entirely lucid and knows exactly what you’d call his little establishment. A cult. A blasphemy of heretics.

♡ And he can’t have you blabbing your mouth – as much as he loves hearing you tell him stories – to the wrong people. Or realising what you’ve been roped into.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader takes your health into his hands and begins adding a secret ingredient to your meals. One which is tasteless, scentless, yet weakens you with each passing day.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, now having the excuse to do so, rarely lets you out of the house (not that you can leave, anyway) insisting that you aren’t well enough to do so.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader makes sure he’s your main source of care and entertainment during your time of declining health.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader uses your weakened, bed-ridden state to feed you more glorious tales of his philanthropy and godliness. And you, with little else to do – little else you can do – listen. And believe.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, as the weeks go on, can see that the defiance in your eyes, the initial hesitation and wariness you displayed in your first days here, is starting to fade, along with any fight or hope you have of ever leaving this place.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader feels his heart clamour when you request his presence, an associate of his coming to retrieve him from his office on the rare day he isn’t there to care for you himself.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, when he can see you’re particularly pained, looks over his shoulder and, as if he’s letting you in on a secret, flashes you a smile.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader calls you his “Special little Lamb. My Saint,” and gets up, locking the bedroom door, returning to your bedside.

♡ His hand slips beneath the bed sheets, finding your thigh. First, with reassurance. Then, with something else. Hunger. Promise.

♡ And you, in your state of delirium, either cannot or choose not to resist as his hand travels further beneath your night shirt, creeping ever closer to your epicentre. All the while, he’s crawling on top of you, an archway to another world. A cage.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader tells you to “Keep quiet. We don’t want the others getting jealous now.”

♡ And all the while, as he’s taking care of you, making you gasp, too feeble to even make a sound, he tells you how he thinks “The Gods will heal you, if only you acknowledged them.” His gaze turns hard. There is no humour, no levity, within him. “Join them.”

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, one evening, when he’s at your bedside, after months of his attempts to break you, feels his heart soar when you tell him you “Want to become part of the Family.”

♡ Yandere Cult Leader can’t tell if he’s eventually gotten through to you, either with his promises of restoration or his nights of gratification, but he sees your conformity as loyalty. Finally.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, seeing that he has you in his iron grip, ceases his poisoning and begins work on your ascension. Immediately.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, as your condition begins to improve, tells you that you are to become his ‘special assistant’ – an occupation everyone in his town would kill and die for.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader whose articulation of what ‘special assistant’ means comes in the form of a collar.

♡ And not just any collar. A shock collar.

♡ Not that you know this. Yet.

♡ yandere Cult Leader who, when you’re able to stand, move, and even participate in everyday activities, has your ‘coronation’ organised. A celebration (and display of ownership_ of you and all that you will be bringing to the Family.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who watches everyone’s reactions carefully, picking out those who showed doubt, even a sliver, and those who seemed overly-accepting of your presence.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, that night, as you went to go to your room, pulled you into his, locking the door behind him.

♡ “An assistant as special as yourself can’t be expected to sleep all by their lonesome,” he tells you, his hand on yours. Iron.

♡ “Not when it’s my job to serve you.”

♡ Yandere Cult Leader is a master manipulator. A lucid one at that. Though, his narcissism clouds his sense of self.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, that night, takes you for the first time, deeming it to be the claiming ceremony’ – one which has been a tradition since the inception of the Association.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader convinces you that this is the right thing to do, regardless of how much you want to do it.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who doesn’t stop until he sees every ounce of resistance leave your eyes, and not just towards his advances. Extending far beyond tonight – into the rest of your life as you come to accept that this is your fate, one spent with a demon in a god’s clothing.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader uses sexual gratification as a motivator (or punishment) depending on your behaviour.

♡ If you do something that displeases him, that risks making him lose face if only for a second, he can be vile. Promising the most promiscuously torturous and painful outcomes should you defy his word again.

♡ Such motivators of these punishments can be as simple as wanting to take a walk outside the Compound, asking him a question about the Uncaring Outside, or not doing what he asks of you immediately after he’s told you what he wants.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader is most unkind when he is displeased. And he’ll let you know how easily replaceable you are, how quickly he can find a willing body to take your place in his bed at a moment’s notice.

♡ And you know he’s right. That’s why you obey like you do, why you take the slings and arrows your existence is heir to now, why you plead and beg and cry that you’d “Do better next time ! Please, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry–”

♡ However, if you have displayed good behaviour, he’ll call you by any name you want to hear – “Sweetheart”, “Darling”, “Angel” – anything that reinforces your perceived importance to the Cult Leader.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader has you glued to his side forevermore. Anyone who tries tot ake you from him is deftly dealt with. Which is why you never see the people who’ve come searching for you, who stumbled upon the leader’s human enclosure as you had. Albeit with less guidance from the Leader.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader promises you that “Nobody out There loves you as much as I do. If they did, they’d have come to join you, wouldn’t they ?”

♡ God forbid if you disagree. The Leader didn’t groom you to be opinionated; he tamed you into his pet.

♡ And if you ever want a fighting chance of escaping this place alive, you have to make him believe that you’re dedicated to nothing but him.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Yandere AI Masterlist Masterpost

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wh0re43van · 5 months

Text

Baby Fever pt2 (Evan Peters X Reader)

Summary: After returning your niece to her home, you and Evan go back to your own house to start you own family ;)

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex

Pt1 Pt3

A/n: I was going to throw a daddy kink in here, but I’m not too sure if that would be a turn off for people?? Let me know what you guys think! As always thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!

Ellie ended up staying with us for close to a week, but fortunately, her grandmother is doing much better. Andrew has come home to take care of Ellie while his wife stays to take care of her mother.

We pull into Andrews driveway, returning his daughter and all of the presents that Evan insisted we buy her; I figured out why Ellie likes her uncle so much now. He bought her every single one of the Monster High dolls because he loves how her eyes light up every time she gets one.

“Thank you guys so much,” Andrew yawns as he pries a whining Ellie out of Evans arms.

“No! No! I wanna stay with them!” She screams and kicks her feet, her new sparkly paw patrol sneakers- courtesy of Evan of course- glinting in the morning sunlight peaking through the porch.

“Now that’s enough Ellie. I know your uncle has spoiled you, but it’s time to come home and unpack now. You’ll see them again soon,” Andrew explains with little patience. He looks exhausted.

“Not fair!” Ellie cries crocodile tears as Andrew opens the front door, ushering her inside.

“Let us know if you need anything else, man,” Evan smiles, pulling his brother into a hug.

•

After parking his car in the garage, Evan walks around the vehicle to open the door for me.

“Well, that was an exhausting week,” I smile as I step out onto the concrete. “I can’t wait to go to sleep,” I yawn as Evan opens the door to our house. I love Ellie dearly, but Evan has got to learn to not wind her up or give her soda before bedtime.

“We have one last thing to do before you have your nap, my love,” Evan chuckles before picking me up bridal style, carrying me off to our bedroom. He lays me on our unmade bed onto my back, crawling on top of me, placing a tender kiss on my lips.

“Ev,” I giggle. “Don’t you want me to shower first? It’s been like two days,” I say slightly embarrassed, knowing exactly where this is heading.

“Now what’s the point of that?” My husband asks in between each kiss he peppers down my neck and across my collarbone. “You’re just going to have to shower again once I’m done with you,” he raises his head to look into my eyes, making me blush a bit. I just giggle and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling his lips back to mine. We’ve been together for years, yet I still get butterflies every time he kisses me. His rough hands still leave goosebumps on my bare skin.

“Lets get this off of you,” he says softly, tugging on my oversized sweater. I lift my hands so he can pull it over my head, I lay back down as he scans my bare torso up and down. His eyes still glinting with adoration the same way they did the very first time we were intimate so long ago. His large hands softly slide over my hips and up towards my breasts.

“You’re such a work of art,” he says lowly, still simply admiring my body. “Y/n, you’ve truly made me the luckiest man alive,” he places a kiss on my nose, then pulls his black t-shirt over his head. I quickly pull his lips back to mine, desperate to taste him again.

“I love you so much Evan,” I swoon against his lips, entangling my fingers into the curls on the back of his head. Evans hands find their way to my breasts, as he works his lips passionately on mine. I trail my hands down his back to pull him closer to me, needing to feel his skin on mine. With our chests pressed flush together, I raise my feet up to the waistband of his sweats, pushing them down his legs. This earns a chuckle from Evan as he pulls away to further remove the pants and his boxers.

“That was kind of impressive,” he grins as he scoots further down the bed.

“Thank you,” I giggle while he pulls my leggings and underwear off. Evan settles between my legs, placing them on his shoulders before grabbing my hips to pull me closer to him. He uses a finger to spread my slick up to my clit, taking a moment to cherish the sight of my dripping core. “So pretty,” he says to himself before licking a strip from my entrance to my bundle of nerves, where he stops to kitten lick.

“You always make me feel so good baby,” I hum as I melt into his touch. His expert tongue works at my clit as he pushes two fingers into me, curling into the perfect spot, making me moan out his name. I feel him smile against me as he picks up speed. His fingers pumping into me at just the right pace, curling into my g-spot every time as he sucks and laps at my clit quickly creates a knot in my stomach. The room is filled with the sound of him pumping in and out of me and my loud moans as my legs begin to shake on either side of his head.

“Do you wanna cum for me, baby?” Evan smirks

“Yes,” I moan. “Please-fuck,” I squeal as my walls throb around his fingers. With Evans tongue hard at work and a steady pace I feel myself unravel. The unholiest of sounds leave my trembling lips as I release into his hand over his face. The orgasm courses through me, leaving my skin tingling. Evan crawls up to press a very wet kiss on my lips. He never wipes my release off his face, wearing it with pride as it drips down and beads in his beard.

“You taste so good baby,” he pants through the rough kiss as he wedges himself between my legs again. “I can never get enough of you,” he groans against my lips. He instinctively reaches to our nightstand to retrieve a condom.

“Have you changed your mind?” I giggle. He raises an eye brow then quickly realizes the reason for tonight’s event.

“How could I forget,” he chuckles lining himself up with my entrance, using his thumb to rub my clit. “I get to cum in this perfect pussy,” he groans against my lips making my stomach do a flip. He pulls his head back, gentle grabbing my face to look at him. His eyes pierce mine as I feel him slide in slowly, more gentle than usual, but so much more erotic. A low groan leaves Evans throat

“Fuck you feel so good,” he breaths, still staring directly into my eyes, his nose almost brushing against mine. his hand moves from my jaw to my hips so he can hold me in place while he bottoms out inside of me, making me arch my back and curl my toes.

“Oh my god Ev,” I moan, loving how deep he fills me. Evan sits up straight so he can properly thrust into me, pulling my hips flush to his every time he pushes into me, making sure to bury every inch of himself into me.

He begins to pick up speed, getting more desperate every time he rocks his hips into mine. He brings a thumb up to my mouth, pulling his lip between his teeth as I take it into my mouth, swirling my tongue a couple times.

“Atta girl,” he smirks, his eyes glancing back and for the between my own and my mouth. He removes his thumb, using it to draw circles on my clit. The extra stimulation is exactly what I needed paired with the sight of my god of a husband pounding impossibly deep into me, his curls bouncing in sync with his thrusts, his head thrown back in pleasure as he hits the deepest parts of my body. The way his veins pop in his hands and arms as he grips onto my hips for dear life, and his moans. Fuck, his moans. The sounds this man makes as he’s buried inside of me could bring me to an orgasm all on their own.

“Fuck,” I squeal, my voice trembling. Evan moves his head to look down at me, smiling at the sight below him. “Goddamn you fuck me so good,” I praise as I feel myself nearing my second orgasm. “I want you to cum in me Ev,” I demand. “I want to feel your cum inside me while I cum around your cock, please baby,” I whine as I begin to pulse around his throbbing dick. Evan groans out a ’fuck’, reaching up to grab my face again.

“Look at me baby,” he growls, “look at me while I fill you up,” he brings his face so close to mine that his hair brushes my forehead as he rams himself as far into me as he possibly can. “Fuck!” I scream- much louder than intended- the curse punctuated with each thrust. Evan groans lowly as he shoots hot white cum against my cervix as I release around him, our intimate eye contact broken as mine roll back into my head while he mercilessly fucks his seed deeper into me. Evans thrusts slow and he releases his death grip from my face. I lay panting below him, a sweaty mess as every inch of my body trembles. I feel almost as If I’m floating.

Evan kisses my forehead then pulls himself out of me, scooching down to examine the mess he’s made inside of me.

“Fuck,” he groans at the sight his cum dripping out of my swollen pussy. He looks up me between my legs. “This is a really good look for you,” he smiles. I don’t even want to move my mouth to speak, still riding on cloud nine. “Lets get you cleaned up sweetie,” he chuckles. Picking me up bridal style, carrying me to the bathroom.

He sets me gently onto my shaky feet so he can draw me a bath.

“I love you,” I say, meaning every syllable of the sentence. He turns, flashing his dimples before picking up my hands to place a gentle kiss on each.

“And I, you,” he brushes my hair behind my ear.

As I sink into the much-needed bath, Evan asks,

“So, when can we take a pregnancy test?” making me giggle.

“We have to wait a couple weeks, Ev,” I smile.

“Oh,” he looks a bit disappointed, then after a beat he smirks. “I guess that means we’ll have to do that a couple more times until we can test,”

“I think that’s exactly what it means,” I laugh.

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maxsimagination · 3 months

Text

𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 - 𝙞.𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙙𝙚𝙨 + 𝙢.𝙡𝙚𝙤𝙣

warnings: smut. 18+ below the cut.

a combination of this and this.

a/n: irene is 32, mapi is 28 & reader is 24

this is my first shot at a threesome !! hope it’s all good.

-----

it was a normal wednesday morning, training with the team and team bonding night later on.

it was my second season with the club, transferring in from bayern munich, all of the girls were really nice and welcoming when i first joined. since i was on the younger side of the team, i spent most of my time with claudia. but claudia was best friends with patri, who spent her time with alexia and irene, who were always with mapi.

it was like a chain reaction, so through knowing claudia, i’d met all the older girls.

i honestly thought i fit in much better with the older players rather than the younger ones. i wasn’t the type to always pull pranks on my teammates like they did, preferring to work on my techniques.

when i got to training that morning, mapi was waiting out the front like usual. she’d driven me to training once last year when i first came and ever since then we’d made it a tradition. this time however, irene was standing with her.

“hola chicas. irene, me alegro de verte.” (hello girls. irene, nice to see you.)

i walked into the grounds and the two older women followed me in. the whole team was already there, most just finishing up their breakfast. i put my things in the locker rooms with everyone else’s and joined the team for our pre-training talk.

jona had us doing a bunch of drills today, and then split us off into two teams. we played a couple rounds; alexia, patri and i were all together while claudia, irene and mapi were on the opposition.

as a striker, i naturally had irene and mapi defending for their lives while i ran rings around them and scored a few goals.

i even managed to nutmeg both the women at least once, throwing out a sassy “catch me if you can, chicas!” to mess with them even more.

jona was proud of my efforts, telling me i’d been on fire lately. that made my ego swell of course, and clearly mapi and irene weren’t too happy about how i’d beat them.

but we finished training a couple hours later and were reminded by alexia that there was team bonding at hers tonight. she normally organised these events, being the captain she took it upon herself to keep everyone on good terms with each other.

tonight was a casual event, ale told everyone to wear something comfy, nothing too fancy as we were just playing some games and watching a movie or two. so when i got home, i plopped my stuff down on my couch and headed towards the bathroom. time for an everything shower.

i washed my hair, shaved in all the right places and did my full skincare routine.

by the time i’d finished that, it was around 5:00, i had to be ready in half an hour. mapi had promised to pick me up, insisting she drive us to ale’s.

as for clothes, i’d opted for a slightly oversized tshirt and a pair of bike pants that just happened to accentuate my ass. soon, i heard a knock on my door. knowing it was mapi, i grabbed my phone and rushed to the front door.

“hola mapi. gracias por llevarme.” (hello mapi. thank you for driving me.)

“ah, it’s no problem.”

we walked down to her car, when i noticed someone sitting in the front seat. irene.

“hola irene.” (hello irene.)

i jumped in the backseat, greeting the other woman when i got in.

“hello y/n.”

irene’s accent gave me shivers, it was the perfect combination of soft and gravelly.

mapi drove us all to alexia’s house, where at least three other cars were already parked on or near her driveway. we hopped out of the vehicle, traipsing up to the front door where i knocked on it twice.

alexia opened it, a giant grin on her face.

“chicas! welcome, please come in.”

she ushered us all inside to join the rest of the group. apparently we’d been some of the last to get there, everyone else all riding with each other.

we spent the evening playing some board games, watching a movie and just chatting to each other about anything and everything. it was close to 9 at night when i ducked into the kitchen to get some water.

i stood, sipping from a glass against alexia’s kitchen counter, when someone joined me in the kitchen.

“ya sabes tu culo se ve muy bien en esos pantalones cortos.”

(y’know your ass looks great in those shorts.)

that same gravelly voice from earlier spoke up, and i whipped around to see irene standing there.

“por que gracias, irene.” (why thank you, irene.)

the woman walked forward, meeting me where i stood by the sink. she was taller than me by a bit and i had to tilt my head up to see her properly.

her eyes were sparkling with what seemed to be desire, and judging by the way she raked her eyes up and down my body, i was correct. she edged closer and closer, eventually standing inches away from me.

“me gustaría mucho besarte ahora.”

(i would really like to kiss you now.)

“so kiss me.”

neither of us missed a beat, irene diving down to connect our lips in a messy and passionate manner. irene had spun us around then, lifting me up and placing me on the kitchen island.

“y/n? where’d you- oh my god.”

we broke apart at the sound of a voice, mapi’s voice to be exact. however irene wasn’t fazed.

“maria, perfect timing. would you like to join?”

my eyes almost bulged out of my head at her words, getting it on with one person was okay but two? completely different territory.

“actually, yea. but not on ale’s kitchen island. shall we head home?”

this time she was asking me, so i quickly nodded my head and irene lifted me down from the island. we slipped back into the lounge where the other girls were, letting them know we were heading home.

they all bid us farewell, alexia yelling out not to be late to practice tomorrow morning.

the drive was short and full of tension, which made it feel longer. i was sat in the backseat again while the two older women were in the front, seemingly communicating through their facial expressions.

we did not return to my apartment, instead going to irene’s apartment. she made quick work of unlocking the door and letting us all in. mapi entered last, locking the door after herself.

as the lock clicked shut my nerves really started bouncing around. irene had clearly noticed and grabbed my hand.

“no tenemos que hacer esto si no estás cómodo.”

(we don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable.)

her voice soothed my nerves a little bit and i smiled up at her.

“no i want this.”

her gentle smile turned into a wolfish grin as this time she took my hand and led me down to a room, which i figured to be hers. mapi was directly behind me, hand on the small of my back for comfort.

when we walked in, irene spun me around and pinned me against the wall, hands above my head. her lips were just centimetres away from mine, teasing me everytime she got too close.

finally she kissed me, and i melted at the contact.

she pulled away and started littering little kisses and licks down my neck to my collarbone. once she was cut off by my shirt she tugged it up and over my head before going back to sucking little hickies on my neck and chest.

my head was tilted to the side, too caught up in irene’s movements to realise that mapi had come forward and pressed her lips to my own.

it took me a second to realise that there were two women kissing me.

irene had dropped her hold on my arms, using them to take my bra off, so i used that to my advantage and tugged on mapi’s shirt, signaling i wanted it off. she smiled into the kiss and pulled back, taking her shirt off and revealing she wasn’t wearing a bra either.

she kissed me again and my hands travelled down to her chest, tracing patterns along her skin before twirling her nipples between my fingers.

she yelped a little at the intrusion, but soon it was my turn because irene had kissed down to my own breasts, swirling her tongue on each nipple and promptly pinching them.

i groaned into mapi’s mouth, as she went back to kissing me. irene continued to suckle on my breast, giving the other one the same attention with her fingers. soon enough, her fingers then trailed lower, down to the waistband of my bike pants.

irene removed her lips from me, looking up at me in question. i looked back down at the pause of movement and gave her the go ahead.

she didn’t waste any time, hooking her fingers in the elastic and tugging the clothing down my legs. mapi had now taken advantage of my unattended nipples, moving her fingers to play with the nubs.

meanwhile irene had knelt down, hands pulling at my thighs. she dipped a finger into my folds, which came out coated in wetness. she sucked the juices off, before pressing a finger lightly onto my clit. that elicited a moan from me and one of my hands went to irene’s hair, pushing her face towards my heat.

she obliged, spreading my legs further and dipping her tongue through my folds. again drawing a moan from me, her tongue slipped down to push lightly against my hole before moving back up to suckle on my clit.

mapi was still kissing me and twirling my nipples between her fingers, which only added to my heightened excitement.

my eyes were closed, squeezed shut, while the only thing i could focus on was the feeling of irene’s mouth on my cunt. just then she brought her fingers up to my entrance, pushing one in.

i gasped at the intrusion, but that quickly melted into a moan when she started pumping it in at a steady rhythm. she added a second finger, stretching me out a little and setting a strong pace, while still toying with my clit in her mouth.

i could tell i was approaching my orgasm, the little coil had started to tighten in my stomach.

“‘m close. keep going, please.”

i was begging, that’s how much i wanted to come. the older woman below me didn’t utter a word, just kept her fingers pumping and mouth suckling.

it wasn’t long before i was practically on the edge, anymore and i’d fall off.

“i’m gonna cum, please can i cum?”

“go ahead, bebita.”

it was mapi who’d answered this time, i had almost forgotten that she’d been playing with my nipples and placing hickies all over me.

then i was coming all over irene’s face. she clearly didn’t care and was lapping it up like it was the last thing she’d ever eat.

once i’d come down from my high, irene picked me up and brought me over to her bed.

“estas bien, amor? lo hiciste muy bien.”

(are you okay, love? you did so well.)

i was tired, flopped on the bed like a rag doll just trying to get my energy back.

“sí, estoy bien. segunda asalto?”

(yes, i’m okay. round two?)

mapi had come to lie on the bed behind me, resting her upper body against the headboard and her legs splayed out on the mattress.

irene then walked over to a small bedside table and opened the drawer.

she pulled out a thick black silicone dick, attached to a harness.

“think you can take this?”

i nodded eagerly, propping myself up on my elbows.

“on your hands and knees. you’re going to make maría come, while i fuck you from behind.”

there was no arguing with her harsh tone. i scrambled onto my knees, kneeling in front of mapi. she’d managed to get her sweats off then, leaving her naked on the bed.

i looked back at irene, who was securing the harness.

“don’t look at me, get started.”

i didn’t think twice, arching my back and shoving my face in between mapi’s legs to lick a long stripe up her cunt. she instinctively widened her legs for me, grinding her hips towards my face.

i could feel irene up behind me then, the tip of her strap pressing against my entrance. she manoeuvred it so the tip was half in, then slowly pushed the rest in.

the girth of the silicone toy stretched me wide, i let out a little whine at the slight pain.

however irene continued, she set a slow pace to start, thrusting in then pulling out. thrusting in, pulling out.

i was still buried in between mapi’s legs, lapping at her clit, and pushing my tongue against her entrance every so often. her hands hand found their way to my hair, grasping it in her long fingers and pushing my face further into her cunt.

irene sped up gradually, until she was fully fucking me from behind. you could hear the slaps from her strap connecting with my ass every time she thrusted forward.

“‘m close, again. please don’t stop.”

i lifted my head to plead irene to keep going.

“make maría cum first. then you can cum.”

irene denied my pleads, slowing her thrusts slightly as i, desperately, licked, suckled and fucked mapi.

my hand, both of which were holding mapi’s legs wide open, came down to push into mapi’s entrance. i started with two fingers immediately, which left her whining before that turned into a moan.

i could tell she was so close, constantly grinding down on my face, chasing her own high.

it didn’t take long before she came crashing down, spreading her juices all over my face. i licked them all up, before pulling my fingers out and sucking the wetness off them too.

at the same time, irene had sped up again, added her own fingers to my clit, rubbing deliberate circles against my nub. i could feel myself hurtling towards my orgasm, with the coil in my belly tightening quickly.

“i’m coming- can i cum?”

“yes bebita, cum for me.”

irene praised me, thrusting into me hard and fast to bring me to the edge.

i fell over that edge just as quickly, letting my high crash over me like a wave. irene slowed down her pace, fucking me through the orgasm.

then she slowly pulled out, unclipping the harness and setting it down on her table.

“mis buenas chicas. estoy muy orgullosa de ti.”

(my good girls. i’m so proud of you.)

irene went to grab a damp washcloth and came back to clean both me and mapi up, pressing kisses on both our foreheads.

#woso #woso x reader #woso community #woso smut #irene paredes #mapi leon #irene paredes x reader #mapi leon x reader #irene paredes imagine #mapi leon imagine

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raplinesmoon · 9 months

Text

원샷! (One-shot!) - MYG x F!Reader

pairing: Doctor!Yoongi x Doctor!Reader genre(s): crack, fluff, brief smut au(s): medical AU, idiots-to-lovers (not quite yet) word count: 3.1k warnings: cynical Yoongi, hospital talk, artificial insemination and pregnancy, sperm for insemnation switched without readers’ knowledge/consent, Yoongi has no filter, 20,000 different ways to say sperm, unhinged behaviour from OC and Yoongi, probably HIPAA non-compliance, intoxication, marijuana use, an almost-kiss, did I mention they're idiots (affectionate), mentions divorce (OC's parents), bi-panic from Yoongi, implied masturbation (m) rating: 18+

summary: Yoongi's friendship with you is the one bright spot in his life. So when you tell him you're ready to have a baby, he thinks this will finally be his shot to take your friendship to the next level. Cue a few shots of soju, and one insemination party, and Yoongi suddenly has a huge problem on his hands.

a/n: Old rom-coms (aka pre-2012) are the best. I was rewatching The Switch the other day and felt a burst of inspo to write this cute little au! This will probably be a oneshot (get it?) for now, but never say never! I hope you enjoy!

In his somewhat short career of practicing medicine, Yoongi had become an expert people-watcher, you could say. For instance, he’d been privy to the same morning commute as hundreds of other strangers in the city for the past five or so years. In fact, he was so used to seeing their faces that they didn’t seem like strangers at all. There was the old man who rode in the same car he did, always clutching what seemed to be a bouquet of flowers or a baked good. Maybe it was for his wife. Or his mistress.

Yoongi puckers his lips sourly at the unsavory thought, shuddering at how cynical he’d become. Instead, he turns his attention to the girl sitting in the corner. She had to be in middle school, he thought. Only middle school could put that despondent look on the face of someone so young. Maybe she’d been jilted by a crush. Or more likely, she’d gotten a B on her math test and was about to walk into a lecture from her parents the moment she came home from school today. Yoongi knew the feeling all too well.

You see, it was Yoongi's job to be in the business of people. Being a doctor meant that he dealt with people all day long. They flitted in and out of his life like the flies that buzzed past his ears every time he entered the subway. And he always surprised himself with how much he could learn about them in a single meeting, or before they even walked into the room.

Which is why nothing could have prepared him for what awaited him when he walked into the hospital cafeteria that morning. Sweat streamed down his back in rivulets from the summer heat, drenching his scrubs. And yet, he still insisted on grabbing a piping cup of black coffee from the drinks counter.

“It keeps me awake for longer,” he grumbled when the man at the checkout counter shot him a quizzical look.

His eyes scan the crowded array of chairs and tables outside the café, looking for the one person who could perk up the start to another grueling work day, even more than his cup of coffee was capable of.

You wave to him enthusiastically from the crowd, bouncing up and down like a child waiting for a lollipop. It was probably from all the kids you hung around with all day. Peds was no joke, and Yoongi admired your ability to keep a bright, starry-eyed attitude when his own stomach turned at the thought of sick children.

“Please don’t tell me you saw another man with flowers who might be cheating on his wife,” you raise an eyebrow at the scowl on his face as he approaches the table. “Either that or today’s the day you finally regret not getting an iced coffee.”

Running a hand through his hair, he sighs, annoyed yet also mildly amused by your teasing.

“I told you, it–”

“It keeps you awake for longer, I know, I know,” you beam at him.

“It’s actually neither of those things,” he groans. “Today it was the old lady in the elevator who asked me what year of high school I was in.”

“That’s what you get for having a stupidly perfect face,” you quip, waving your fork at him. “You know Seungkwan from Derm would freak if he knew you only washed your face with bar soap?!”

Although you chuckle at your own joke, Yoongi can’t help the way his heart twists at your words, resisting the heat that rises to his cheeks when you compliment his face. But before he can think about it too long, he falters, noticing that your attention is buried deep within your pile of scrambled eggs, and you’re unable to look him in the eyes.

“You know, Seungkwan from Derm would also tell you that frowning causes premature wrinkles, ___,” Yoongi responds, and you lift your head up, eyebrows furrowed in worry. His hand twitches, and he fights the urge to reach out and squeeze your hand to reassure you everything will be alright.

You finally reach into your bag, pulling out a piece of paper.

“Look at these labs,” you push the paper towards him. “What do they say to you?”

Yoongi stares intently at the paper, trying to piece together this patient’s story, despite you failing to provide any helpful demographic information.

“Iron count, a full blood panel, HcG, any infectious diseases, genetic markers—” Yoongi pauses when he realizes. “You’ve got a pregnant kid on your hands?”

The paper is snatched from his hands before he can finish, your face redder than a tomato.

“No silly, it’s not a kid. I-it’s me. Those are my levels. Do you think they look okay?”

Yoongi can’t prevent his jaw from dropping wide open. He’s sure he must look like an idiot, staring blankly while you blink your eyes, waiting for him to respond.

“You’re having a baby?” he chokes out. The sick, twisty feeling in his stomach has returned, only this time it's a thousand times worse.

“Not yet. But I’m trying,” you admit sheepishly, avoiding eye contact.

“So what, you want me to have sex with you?” Yoongi blurts out before he can stop himself, and he immediately sees you freeze. Sometimes he really hated that he had no filter when it came to his thoughts. That, combined with the fact that he’d had a crush on you since you nearly knocked him over with your Heelies during his first week of work, and Yoongi had found himself in a sticky situation more often than not.

“No!” you immediately blurt out, growing more flustered when Yoongi frowns. “Not that, I mean–, that’s totally beside the point, completely irrelevant to my clinical question, I, I– I’m using a sperm donor okay!”

For the second time in a matter of minutes, you’ve rendered Yoongi completely speechless.

“Is this about Kihyun?” he finally asks. “Or Doyoung? You know, I know you haven’t had the best track record with relationships in the past, but jumping into having a baby with a random guy is definitely not the solution!”

“It’s not about them!” you sputter, unable to stop your voice from rising. “It’s about me, okay! My choice to be an independent woman, raising a child, who doesn’t need a man to help her at all! I get paid well, I have all the resources I could dream of, a strong support system. My life is in session!”

Yoongi has to bite back at chuckle at you quoting one of the various hospital brochures that decorated every reception desk and spare table.

“So are you gonna help me find some jizz, or not?!” you finish, only to look around and realize nearly a dozen pairs of eyes are on you. Perhaps you’d said that last part a little too loudly.

“I-, I gotta go,” you whisper, slinging your bag over your shoulder and running as fast as you can out of the cafeteria, leaving a wistful Yoongi to ponder over the fact that you hadn’t even bothered to finish your breakfast.

You might have thought that breakfast was the end of your baby-making discussion, but judging by the way Yoongi cornered you immediately during the mid-afternoon patient lull, it seemed he hadn't.

“So you’re looking for, uh, semen,” he says, mortified when the charge nurse on your floor whips her head around to glare at him. He pulls you into an alcove by the windows, immediately realizing what a wrong move that was when he can smell the strawberry shampoo you’d used this morning, or count each one of your long eyelashes.

“What’s wrong with mine?” he asks innocently, before realizing he’d messed up yet again. The uncomfortable look on your face tells him as much.

“Listen, Yoongi, I’m sure you have great sperm, killer sperm even. Not in a murder-y way, you know, but like in a Darwinian kinda way. But we’re best friends, wouldn’t that be weird?”

“We don’t have to have sex, you know. I could just nut in a cup and hand it to you. I mean we’ve literally cleaned vomit off each other, how weird could this be?”

A strangled giggle erupts from your throat, and you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet. Yoongi knows you well enough to know your untapped anxiety is preventing you from saying what you really want.

“Okay, spit it out ___.”

“Well, no offense, Yoongi, but you’re kind of neurotic. And not to mention a little pessimistic, maybe even nihilistic…”

“Damn, ___. You could have just said you didn’t want my swimmers. No need to hit a man where it hurts.”

You smile, fondly recalling the time you two played for the hospital basketball team, only for Yoongi to suspend you when your pass had gone awry and smacked him straight in the balls.

“Oh please, you recovered just fine. And we still won the championship that year against the nurses.”

The smile Yoongi forces out of him is no match for the way his heart is breaking underneath. But he looks at you, eyes sparkling and so excited about the prospect of having a baby, and immediately sets his own feelings aside. He could do this. He was your best friend, and as your best friend, your happiness was his number one priority.

“Okay, I’ll help.”

“Thank you thank you thank you!” you crush him in a too-tight hug, his arms wrapping around you stiffly, before melting into it. Normally he would have pushed anyone else off by now, but you’d always been his exception to every rule he’d ever set for himself.

“So, what do you think about Hoseok from Finance?”

Yoongi freezes at the mention of the happy-go-lucky man with the heart-shaped smile and how he could immediately charm the pants off of anyone within his vicinity.

“Absolutely not,” he grumbles, walking away.

“Oh come on, why not? He has great fashion sense, can pull off any hair color, the nurses say he can dance well… Yoongi, YOONGI!”

After a tumultuous few months, which involved a rather precarious incident in which Yoongi had nearly gotten fired when he locked Taehyung, a cardiology fellow, in the bathroom after he’d gotten a bit too handsy with you at a party, Yoongi opens his apartment door one Saturday morning to find a comically large pink envelope on the outside.

The dozens of sperm-shaped balloons that fall out of the card have him jolting in surprise, and he looks up to find his across-the-hall neighbours, a mom and her daughter, staring at him dumbfoundedly, before swiftly slamming their door shut in his face.

I’m Getting Pregnant… And You’re Invited, the garish pink letters on the invitation read, and Yoongi wants to tell the stupid card to go shove all the balloons up its ass when he realizes in horror that you’d finally decided on someone. Without him.

Standing in the hallway with the huge mess around him, Yoongi wonders how despite changing people’s lives every day, he’d always managed to fall behind when it came to his own.

. . .

The obnoxious EDM bumping in your apartment is enough to make Yoongi’s ears bleed. Tugging at his hoodie, his eyes scan the crowd of people, recognizing more than a few people from the hospital. Frowning, he tries to run each one of them through his mind, wondering if you’d gone with Hoseok from Finance after all.

“Dr. Min!” Yoongi nearly chokes on his drink when Jimin from HR comes up to him, landing him a good-natured slap on the back. “You made it!”

“What the hell are you doing here, Jimin?” Yoongi deadpans. “Shouldn’t you be reporting this shit? I thought all this was supposed to be protected under HIPAA!”

“We’re all HIPAA-compliant here, Yoongi, except you,” Jimin chortles, before smirking at him. “Don’t think I don’t know that you’re the only one in your department who hasn’t submitted their training modules yet.”

“I-, I’ve been busy! You know, actually taking care of patients and stuff.” Yoongi knows Jimin is joking, but somehow still feels the need to defend himself.

“I’m sensing some negative energy from you, Yoongi,” Jimin drawls, and Yoongi is sure he has to be drunk, waving what looks like a turkey baster in his face. “This is ___’s moment! We should all be happy for her!”

“Oh I’m sooo happy,” Yoongi grumbles, disappearing into the crowd to look for you.

“Dr. Min!” another voice calls out to him. “Wanna take a hit?”

Yoongi turns to see Jungkook, one of the medical students rotating in his unit, offering him a lit joint.

“Put that damn thing away, Jeon!” Yoongi scolds him, before backtracking. “On second thought, gimme that.”

All Jungkook can do is blink in surprise when Yoongi takes a drag of the joint, immediately feeling his irate energy subside just a tiny bit. Still, he was antsy. Where were you?

Yoongi takes another few hits, downs a few shots of soju and he’s overcome with the munchies. Reaching for the hummus and pita chips, he groans when the dip plops down, staining his pristine white hoodie.

“Here, let me help you with that,” another disembodied voice calls out to him. Yoongi looks up at the sound, and is immediately taken aback.

Yoongi’s sure he’d never seen this dude at the hospital before. He was like, freakishly pretty. Tall, with dark hair and broad shoulders, and pink lips. He blinks, trying not to panic at the attractive man swiping the stain off his shirt.

“Yoongi!” you appear out of nowhere, wrapping him in another crushing hug. “I see you’ve met Seokjin.”

“I’m the donor,” the man called Seokjin reaches a hand out for him to shake, offering a blinding smile.

Fuck. Of course this stupidly attractive man was your sperm donor. Of course you’d want to have his baby. He was literally perfect. You probably had a crush on him. Hell, Yoongi kind of had a crush on him.

“I’m gonna grab another drink,” you drunkenly lean on Yoongi for support. “You two have fun talking though!”

“___’s great,” Seokjin grins. “Super nice. Pretty hot too.”

“Why are you doing this?” Yoongi interjects bluntly. “I mean no offense, a guy like you, you could probably have anyone.”

“Ahh yeah,” Seokjin ruffles his hair, and Yoongi grits his teeth at how he still manages to look perfect doing that. “Money’s tight these days. A PhD in astrophysics at Harvard doesn’t exactly come cheap.”

Before Yoongi can make another smart comment, Seokjin is whisked away by Jimin and Hoseok from finance, the men slapping him on the back, hollering that it’s time to do the deed. He sees you disappear into your own room nervously, and can’t help himself from following you.

“Everything okay, ___?”

“NO!” you’re nearly bouncing off the walls. And there’s no kids to entertain in sight. “I’m freaking out!”

Yoongi’s next to you in seconds, taking you in his arms and letting your head lean against his shoulder. He’d discovered how much it calmed you down after one drunken night out where you’d basically recalled your childhood trauma from your parents’ divorce.

“Do you think I’m crazy, Yoongi? I want this so bad, but maybe this is the wrong way to go about it.”

“I think you want a family, ___. There’s nothing wrong with that. And I’ll be here every step of the way. Uncle Yoongi to the rescue.”

You giggle at his words, a dazed look in his eyes.

“You do act like a total dad.”

There’s a brief pause, silence falling in between you two. Your eyes peer into Yoongi’s and for a moment, he could swear you lean in, the shiny pink gloss on your lips sparkling in the dim light—-

Only to be interrupted by Jungkook bursting into the room, grabbing your hand and telling you its finally time.

One shot, Yoongi had promised himself. Only now he’s ten shots of soju deep and hiding in the fucking bathroom while the party rages on outside. The colors on the wall blend into each other, and Yoongi’s head throbs trying to figure out what he’s looking at. He smiles to himself when he sees its your meticulous pregnancy planning chart, filled with labs and calendars and lists of medications.

Lifting himself up off the floor, he stumbles, bracing himself against the toilet. He was about to hurl. In his stupor he hears something clatter, off to the side.

“Is someone in there?” the nervous voice of Kim Namjoon, one of the hospital’s talented surgeons, calls out from the other end. “I have to pee!”

Namjoon’s voice breaks Yoongi out of his daze, and he looks at the object lying on the floor.

Cum. A whole bucket’s worth of it, it looked like. The creamy white substance now lies swirling in your toilet bowl, and he feels his heart drop to his ass when he realizes it’s Seokjin’s. Oh fuck! It was Seokjin’s sample. Aka the sample you were supposed to shoot up in mere moments, to have the baby you’d been dreaming of for so long.

Yoongi tugs at his hair, wanting to scream at himself for ruining your plans, all because of his own stupidity. You’d be so mad at him. You’d probably yell at him in front of the entire hospital, hands on your hips, and your face would go all red.

He’s horrified when his dick twitches to life at the image of you cursing him out. How was it his fault that you were so hot and he was idiotically attracted to you?

A lightbulb goes off in his head, and Yoongi looks down again, caught in a face-off with Min. Jr. This was a very big problem with a very simple solution.

The pounding in his head continues as Yoongi drops his pants, getting right to work.

. . .

Thankfully, Yoongi doesn’t remember much about the night of your party. He thinks it’s a blessing, at least until you pounce on him in the hospital cafeteria a couple of weeks later.

Something about you is different, he thinks. You’d always been pretty but now you’re stunning, practically glowing from the inside out. He wonders if it has anything to do with stupidly handsome Seokjin when you tap him on the shoulder.

“It worked!” you blurt out, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m pregnant!”

Suddenly, it all comes back to Yoongi. His jealousy over Seokjin, the two of you nearly kissing in your room, the cup spilling into the toilet, the way Yoongi came with your name on his lips.

Shit.

A/N pt. 2: Thanks for reading! As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

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runningfrom2am · 2 months

Text

cold nights // part twenty-six

summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 7.3k (WOAH)

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: sorry i made you guys wait so long for this omg!! i have been booked and busy this week but we are so back :)

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

It's your first day of university, and you don't know if you're more excited or terrified.

It was the beginning of the rest of your life, which is thrilling considering just two months ago you thought you had days left to live. At the same time, though, you knew no one here besides Coryo and Sej, and you didn't share a single class with either of them.

But, staying positive was a must. It would only be a few hours away from them, and you had planned to meet up for lunch with Coryo between your classes, since he had found some for you that started and ended at the same time as his. While you drape your scarf over your shoulders and tuck both ends around the belt at your waist, you smile to yourself. You take a last look in the mirror, to double-confirm that you like the look of the scarf worn that way over your white dress and when you're satisfied you grab your bag and leave your room. Of course, Tybalt is right on your heels.

Walking down the hall, you can hear their grandmother singing the national anthem in the other room, as she always does. You've never loved the anthem or what it stood for, but starting your morning hearing singing is nice nonetheless. Even if the woman who started her mornings with song had decided just to completely pretend you didn't exist, ignoring you at every turn. "Good morning!" You smile as you enter the dining room, Tigris and Coryo already sitting to eat.

"Morning." They both smile at you at the same time as you drop your bag down, sitting next to Coryo. "Are you excited?" Tigris asks as you reach for some apple slices. There are more fancy pastries spread out on the tray as well, but you'd much rather stick to fruit in the morning.

"I am." You grin, biting the slice in half. "A little nervous, though. I must admit."

"You don't need to be nervous." Coryo tells you, and his smile does relax you. But you know he doesn't understand. "I'll walk you to your classes, and I'll see you during our break. It'll be easy and you'll adjust very quickly."

"Aren't you nervous?" You ask, picking up your cup of tea and taking a sip. "It's your first day too."

"Not really." He shrugs, reaching up to mess with his hair. It had only been a few weeks since he cut it, but it was growing back rather quickly. "More excited."

"Oh, well, I'm excited for you too." You hum, taking another bite of your apple and smiling as he pats your leg under the table.

Pulling up to the campus after Coryo insisted that their driver take the two of you, you notice immediately that there were tons more people. Most were people around your age, which you expected. You wonder how many of them are Coryo's other friends, it would be nice to make more friends here. Just like the games. You find yourself thinking. "Safety in numbers", is what Coryo had told you. You needed allies here.

"There's a lot of people." You comment as the car comes to a stop, and Coryo gently squeezes you with the arm he has over your shoulder in the backseat, still shielded by the tinted windows.

"Yes, just stay close to me." He tells you, kissing your cheek. You nod and push the door open, thanking the driver quickly as you climb out with Coryo on your heels.

It's obvious to him almost immediately that you don't fit in. While there isn't a uniform like there was in the academy, he was still wearing dress pants and a button-up shirt- which seemed to be on par with the level of dress all the other students were donning. Mentally, he curses himself for not thinking of that. It didn't even cross his mind- all that did was that you looked beautiful. More done up than he'd ever seen you, and you don't look insecure about it, at least not immediately. Outside of what he can discern of just average nervousness as you seem to shrink in on yourself while you look out over as much of the campus as you can see.

"So, your class starts in twenty-five minutes. Usually, it's a good idea to get there early, that's what I've heard anyway." He tells you as he starts walking down the path toward the doors, and you follow quickly after him.

"How long does it take to get there?" You ask as you catch up, holding onto your bag over your shoulder.

"You tell me." He smirks, jutting out his elbow to gently nudge you. "I have you the tour, where are we going?"

"Oh." You laugh, looking around. "It looks a lot different now. Probably... ten minutes to get to the arts building?"

"About that, yeah." He nods. "In no time you won't need me anymore."

As you approach the entrance to the main building, it doesn't go unnoticed by him that you're being stared at. No doubt every other student here recognizes you, it would be jarring to see a tribute walking among them at school. Let alone be in a class with them. He wonders if they'd feel unsafe with you- he knows he would have without knowing you.

Not necessarily unsafe, considering even watching the games anyone could tell you wouldn't hurt a fly, but... uneasy, is a more accurate descriptor. It even begins to pool in his own stomach, growing more as you link your arm with his. They weren't just staring at you. They were staring at him, too.

"I'll always need you, I'm sure." You giggle, squeezing his arm.

He can practically hear all of their whispers now.

'Is that Coriolanus Snow? That District girl is all over him.'

'She's probably going to give him rabies or some other gross District plague. I won't be surprised if he starts a Monkey Pox outbreak.'

'I heard him and Sejanus Plinth went to District Twelve just for her. They probably came back half animal- no wonder he sees nothing wrong with this.'

Suddenly, he does. Your hold on him, while friendly, feels so sickeningly isolating. He pulls his arm from yours with the excuse of rolling up the sleeves of his shirt while he speaks to you. "Well, we may not always have aligning classes."

"That's true, I suppose." You agree. "An awful shame though, I'll miss being able to have lunch together."

He just hums in agreement, picking up his pace as you move through the halls and out the back exit to be able to access the art building.

"This is you." Coryo says as he stops outside the door to a lecture hall, looking inside briefly before turning his attention to you. There were a few students already inside, reading or organizing their notebooks.

"Oh, thank you." You smile at him. He didn't have much to say on the walk to your class, but you sum that up to him being in a hurry to get to his own. The art building was certainly out of his way, if you remember where all his classes were supposed to be.

"You're welcome." He says, making an effort to match your smile. He could only really focus on the stares you were getting from people walking past, making wide circles around you. You don't seem to notice as you look up at him. "I'll come back to get you after class, so just wait for me, okay?"

"I'll wait right here." You nod, wrapping your arms around him and leaning your head against his chest. "I'll miss you, though."

You feel him tense up under you, and he awkwardly pats your back. You don't clue in until you hear gasps and whispering. You quickly take a step back, cheeks red.

Coryo chuckles nervously. "It's alright, uh..." He leans down to whisper to you. "They're just strict about that kind of stuff here. Don't worry about it."

"Oh, I'm sorry..." You reply, looking around and smiling apologetically at the few people still staring as they walk past.

"I should have told you, that's my fault." He admits, standing up straight before leaning down to talk to you again. "Good luck in your class. I love you, and I'll see you for lunch." He whispers and is satisfied when that brings your normal smile back.

"I love you too." You whisper back, and he grins, giving you a quick nod. "See you later."

You wave as he walks away, and you take a deep breath before walking into the lecture hall.

Now, you're presented with your second big problem of the day. Figuring out where to sit.

You scan the room quickly, deciding the easiest would be the front or second row. There were a few students already sitting down there, and one girl who was sitting alone. She had blonde hair, and red lipstick that you think would match Coryo's coat that he sometimes wears quite nicely. She looked nice.

You smile as you make your way over to the front row, sliding into the seat next to her. "Hi! My name is Y/N, what's-" You whisper, wanting to stay quiet in the already silent room and before you even finish your question she's shoving things in her bag and getting up. "Oh." You frown, looking around as she quickly moves to a different seat. The shuffle caused everyone who wasn't already looking to stare at you, so you just quickly turned to face the front.

You didn't mean to scare her off, you just thought she might want a friend if she was sitting alone, and you definitely wanted one. She didn't even look at you for more than a second.

You quietly pull the notebook Coryo had given you out of your bag, placing it on the table in front of you and looking up at the clock. There were still fifteen or so minutes until your class would start, so surely by then, someone would sit next to you.

Unfortunately, that didn't happen. By the time the man you assumed was your professor entered, every other seat was taken besides the ones next to you. And behind you. There was this glaringly uncomfortable circle of emptiness surrounding you right at the front of the room. It was mildly embarrassing, but at least you didn't have to see everyone staring at you since almost everyone was behind you. But you still had the afternoon class, and the rest of the year to let people warm up to you. It would be okay.

"Okay, I hope everyone is here." Your gaze follows your professor as he shuts and locks the door. "If you're late, that's too bad. I expect everyone to be on time. This door will be locked at nine on the dot. For anyone who doesn't know me, my name is Dr. Nero."

You sit up straighter in your seat. He looks young, probably only ten or so years your senior with well-trimmed but present facial hair and a semi-casual suit. He must be relatively new to the position, and clearly, he took it very seriously.

"Alright, the department wants us to do icebreakers, so we'll get it over quickly. When I call your name on the attendance, tell us something about yourself and what your career goal is."

Shoot. You definitely didn't have any solid plans yet.

As he goes through the list, you wrack your brain for an answer. What did you want to do? Nothing specific. Maybe you'd write a book, maybe open a daycare back home where parents could leave their young ones with you by donation while they went to work. Maybe you'd be back at the library, but you really wanted to do something good with your education. You make a mental note to ask Coryo during lunch what kind of career you can have with a literature degree.

You look around, trying to remember as many names as you can as the other students answer.

"Teacher", "Artist", "Museum Curator", "Gamemaker".

Your eyes are still locked on the student who said that, a boy with dark hair and brown eyes. His name was Cancor Crane, if you remember what the professor had just called out correctly, and he was staring back at you. He was staring at you with such a vile expression that it looked like he wanted to gut you. A chill goes down your spine.

Then your name is called. You turn quickly, smiling nervously. "Hi..." You say, clearing your throat of the dryness that overtook it. "So, my name is Y/N... something about myself is that I have a cat, his name is Tybalt. Um, because my favourite book is Romeo and Juliet." You look around, then quickly back to your desk. "And I am not sure about my career, in all honesty. Not knowing when the dawn will come I open every door." You shrug, smiling hopefully at him.

"Interesting." Your professor says, tilting his head at you and leaning back against his desk. "I expected your fact to be that you're a Victor."

"I- well, yes. I am." You reply nervously, twisting your pencil in between your fingers.

He hums. "Congratulations."

Congratulations on being the only one to walk away with your life.

"Thank you." You settle on, voice hardly more than a whisper.

"I've never taught a Victor before. This should be an interesting class for all of us."

You took as many notes as you could through the syllabus overview and first lecture. You were pretty pleased with yourself, everything looked organized and you felt prepared for the rest of the course- besides the textbooks that you needed to pick up. Another thing to ask Coryo about.

You don't see him at the door yet, after all, he had to walk all the way back from his class to yours and if he was let out at the same time he should be here in about ten minutes.

"Miss Y/L/N, do you mind staying for a moment?" Dr. Nero asks as the lecture hall steadily clears out. "I'd like to chat with you."

You quickly gather your things, making your way over to his desk at the front centre of the large room.

"Dr. Nero." You smile, bag tucked under your arm. "I really enjoyed today's class. I'm looking forward to the rest of the semester."

A grin tugs at the corner of his lips. "Thank you."

He doesn't say anything else, and you're left wondering what he wanted you to stay for. "I just need to get my textbooks, but I have the list that you gave us so I'll see if I can grab them this afternoon. I'll have them for Wednesday." You say, just wanting to fill the silence.

"Good." He nods, leaning back against his desk and tucking his hands into his pockets. "I watched your games. When they told me that you enrolled in my class, I was immediately intrigued."

"Oh." What are you supposed to say to that? He watched you at your literal worst, that doesn't make you feel very comfortable at all.

"In a good way, I assure you." He says, sensing your nerves. "I feel as though you know more about English literature than anyone in this city. Maybe even more than me."

"I wouldn't say that..." You chuckle nervously. "I just like reading."

"Yes. With an unprecedented level of comprehension for a District-born child."

You want to scowl and argue with him about how the opinions of the Capitol citizens are based on nothing but their own superiority complex fuelled by their win in one war that cost the lives of many, but instead, you just smile and nod. "Thank you, Sir."

"Although, tributes are not given much of a chance to prove that they are more than animals when they are treated as such from the moment they arrive until the moment they die, wouldn't you agree?"

You tilt your head at him. His motivations and opinions are suddenly unclear and confusing to you. "Yes... I-I would."

"Well, I hope to learn more about your experience while we get to know each other." He tells you. "Thank you for coming."

"Yes, thank you." You say quietly, looking toward the door. "I'll see you on Wednesday."

"Yes, good luck in the rest of your classes." He nods to you, and you take that as your dismissal and head to the door. You would just have to wait for Coryo in the hall.

You wouldn't have to wait long, considering he was already there, right where he had left you earlier.

"Hi!" You smile, waving at him but being mindful of keeping your distance.

"Hello." He grins, already starting down the hall as you join his side.

"How was your class?" You ask excitedly.

"Good." He shrugs. "What about yours? That's what I'm more concerned about."

"It was good!" You smile. "I mean, I tried to talk to people but everyone was pretty quiet. And the Professor was nice. I think. He seemed fascinated by the fact that I'm a 'Victor'." You accentuate your point with finger quotations, bouncing between looking up at him beside you and ahead of you to make sure you don't walk into anyone. They seem to be keeping their distance, though.

"Of course he is." Coryo scoffs, shaking his head. "But that's what we want. He may favour you, so go along with it."

"Oh, okay."

Tigris was nice enough to pack you both lunch for the day, yours consisting mainly of fruit. Something you have noticed over the last couple of weeks you've been here is that some of the food scares you- which is something you never thought of. If you can't somewhat accurately identify what it is just by looking at it, you're tempted to steer clear. Coryo insists you'll "get used to it", something he tells you daily about a wide variety of things, but Tigris doesn't mind packing you fruit for lunch or meals you don't help prepare yourself, which you appreciate.

Even for a September day, the sun is beaming down on the courtyard so you decided to eat outside. After all, Coryo says the weather won't be this nice all winter. You rarely got snow in Twelve, so you were excited for the holidays. Secretly, you hoped you could go home for Christmas.

"It's a beautiful day today." You comment, taking a bite of the fresh strawberry you pulled from your lunch container. The strawberries here were something that shocked you as well- they were bigger than the homegrown ones back home. Not nearly as sweet, though.

"It is." Coryo nods, leaning back on his palms in the grass. "Do you like it here so far?" He asks, squinting from the sun as he looks over at you.

"I mean, I've only had one class as you know, but so far it's great." You grin. "I'm excited to actually dive into the readings and such."

"I mean, like, in general." He chuckles. "Also, I have never heard anyone ever say they were excited about homework."

"A precious, mouldering pleasure it is, to meet an antique book, In just the dress his century wore; A privilege I think." You shrug, smiling at him as you place the rest of the strawberry on your tongue.

Coryo scrunches up his nose in disgust while you chew. "You eat the leaves?"

Quickly, you're covering your mouth with your hand to speak. "You don't?" You ask, voice slightly muffled with the slightly sour fruit on your tongue.

"No!" He laughs, shaking his head.

You swallow what remains of the strawberry in your mouth, preparing to defend yourself when you hear someone call his name. You both turn, and your eyes land on a girl with long, dark hair as she walks toward you. With the shoes she's wearing, she only slightly struggles on the grass.

"Clemmie." He smiles, quickly standing up. You follow suit, brushing the stray blades of grass off of your legs and dress while he gives her a hug. A hug? That must be allowed outdoors. "I didn't expect to see you today."

"Yeah, well, they let me out of my cage for the occasion." She replies sarcastically. She must be hot, wearing a white turtle neck in this heat. Then she looks at you, lifting up her dark sunglasses and resting them in her hair.

She has the eyes of a snake.

You're in shock for a moment, but you quickly recover. "Hello, my name is Y/N. Are you a friend of Coryo's?" You ask, extending your hand to shake. You were just happy to possibly be making friends.

She doesn't take it, something you're used to by now. "Yes, we've known each other our whole lives." She answers, looking down at your hand as you slowly lower it back to your side.

"Y/N, this is Clemensia Dovecote." Coryo says, deciding to introduce you properly, since his classmate didn't want to oblige. "She was a mentor as well."

"Oh, congratulations." You grin, biting back the sickness you felt suddenly bubbling in your stomach. "From what I have heard, even being selected for the opportunity is a large accomplishment. You must be proud."

"Yeah, well, I'd certainly be happier if my tribute won." She shrugs.

"Clemmie-" Coryo hisses at her, and she looks momentarily horrified at her own statement.

You look down, nodding slightly with a nervous smile. "It's okay." You insist, laughing slightly and pretending to readjust your scarf and tighten it around the belt.

"I didn't... Not like that. I'm sorry." She apologizes quickly after Coryo had jumped to your defense.

"No, it's alright. I understand." You tell her again, attempting a reassuring smile. "Would... would you like to eat lunch with us?"

"I have to get going, actually." Clemensia replies, looking between the two of you. "I was just on my way to my next class and thought I'd stop to say hi. It was nice to meet you, Y/N."

"You too." You grin, and she nods at you before walking away.

Your eyes stay trained on her as she crosses the courtyard, and Coryo is once again close enough to speak to you quietly so no one else would hear. "I'm so sorry, she didn't mean it like that."

"No, I know." You insist again, already sitting back down. "It's okay." You smile up at him, patting the patch of grass next to you so he would join you.

"She was supposed to be Reaper's mentor." He tells you as he rejoins you on the ground. "But... something happened before the games. She couldn't participate."

"Oh."

He moves closer. "Do you remember that day we went to tour the arena?" He asks and you nod. "And I was late, and you asked me what was wrong, and I told you nothing?"

You do remember that, and you never got answers, but you remember being worried it was your fault. You almost kissed him the night before, and you had made things weird when he just came to do something nice for you; bringing you a book and some birthday cake. You felt horrible. "Yes, I thought I had done something."

"You? No." He quickly shakes his head. "We had to write a proposal for Dr. Gaul, the head gamemaker, about things that could be done to "improve" the games. Like the bets, donations, sending food, and when we were speaking with her Clemmie got bit by one of the snakes."

You gasp, covering your mouth. He looks around, making sure no one is paying attention. Yes, people were staring, but no one would get close enough to be able to overhear.

"I thought she was dead, but they sent me straight to the arena to meet you." He explains. "And like she said, we've been friends forever so I was... quite upset."

"That's horrible." You frown, resisting the urge to reach for his hand as it sits on his lap next to you.

"Yeah." He agrees quietly. "But I saw her in the hospital after the bombing, she was alive but... different. Crazy."

"Her eyes?" You ask and he nods.

"And she was hallucinating, they wouldn't let anyone see her except me because I was there. She was angry with me because I didn't visit her enough."

"Survivors guilt." You smile sympathetically. It was a feeling you knew all too well.

"That's why she's wearing that shirt." He whispers, nodding to her just as she enters the building ahead of you. "She's got scales."

You cringe at the mere idea of it.

"I know." He laughs slightly. He doesn't look away from his hands in his lap, and while you can see he's smiling and laughing, it's doing little to convince you that he isn't upset. "It was kind of my fault, though."

There it is.

"No, most certainly not." You frown. You just want to hold his hand, surely you won't be caught if you do. You were outside, just for a moment isn't likely to get you in trouble. Especially if he was just hugging Clemensia. "Why do you say that?" You ask, settling instead for resting a hand on his arm.

"I... It's difficult to explain." He tells you, and you say nothing, willing him to continue. "So, our proposal was in the tank. Dr. Gaul told us if the snakes knew your scent, they wouldn't bite. But I wrote the paper, not her, and she made Clemmie reach into their tank and pull it out."

"That's not your fault." You tell him, gently squeezing his forearm.

"I should have stopped her. She would have hated me for telling them she didn't help write it, but none of that would have happened."

"Well, she's okay, isn't she?" You smile hopefully.

"Yes, but she just as easily could have died." He insists. "The only thing that makes me feel slightly better about it is that in a way, she saved you."

You cock your head at him, mouth falling open in astonishment. "I... what?"

He looks up from his lap to check your surroundings again.

"I put the letter you wrote to me into the tank." He whispers, and you have to lean in to hear it. "Because I knew if they knew your scent they wouldn't hurt you."

"You... never told me that." You state the obvious, retreating your hand back into your own lap. Part of you wishes he hadn't done that. They didn't quite catch you getting up into the rafters, his warning had been enough, but you should have walked to your death the following morning when you climbed down and found the note in the first place.

"I just... I don't know, I thought it would be worth more if it stayed a secret. I didn't want you to feel... indebted to me, or something." He admits. "But I'm still trying that thing where I tell you everything I'm thinking. Especially about this stuff."

You nod, putting your focus on picking pieces of grass at your side. "Thank you."

"Please don't thank me." He frowns. "I told you. I had to. I knew I loved you even then, Y/N/N."

You give your head a quick shake, already sensing the spiral it was about to fall down. "Let's not speak about this here." You mumble. "Please."

Immediately, Coryo understands. "Of course." He watches you run your fingers through the grass slowly, and realizes quickly that you are counting them. Now was not the time or place for another attack, and he felt foolish for even bringing the topic of the games up. "What books do you need?" He asks, hoping to get you in better spirits. "Anything that looks good? You said you were excited for the readings."

Your lunch doesn't feel like it lasts long enough, even though you had an hour and a half between your classes. Once you got to talking about your books, the time seemed to fly by and Coryo agreed to take you to the bookstore on campus the following afternoon so you could get all your books at once. He had a few to get as well.

He walked you to your next class, a few floors up in the same building and this time you were mindful to not hug him goodbye. He told you he loved you, very quietly, and you said you loved him too before entering the room. Another lecture hall, slightly smaller than the last one.

You mentally prepare yourself to play this game again. Where to sit, and preferably, finding someone willing to sit next to you. Looking around, you see a couple of girls in the middle of the room chatting away. They looked nice enough.

Preparing your smile as you walk up, you slide into the seat next to them. "Hi there, my name is Y/N." You grin, keeping your voice low. You really didn't want to scare them off. "Can I sit here?"

They look at each other with an expression unreadable to you, before one of them nods. "Yeah, we can't see why not."

"Oh, thank you!" You say excitedly, pulling your bag up onto the desk to grab your other notebook out of it.

"You're the Victor." The other girl comments, and you realize they're both staring at you still.

You suck in a sharp breath through your teeth, nodding. "Mhm."

"So... why are you here?" The girl closest to you with a brunette ponytail asks.

"Oh, well, Coriolanus, he was my mentor, he came to visit me back home and convinced me to come study here." You explain. "I want to have a career. Help my family."

"Oh, we know him." She says, and they look at each other again, chests shaking with laughter they're attempting to conceal.

"You do?" You smile. You knew starting with his friends was a good idea, this is just a happy coincidence that you had decided to sit next to two of them already.

"Yeah, we went to the academy with him." The girl's friend explains. You notice then that they have a very similar hair colour, but hers is cut short and curled just above her shoulders. "He always had such a stick up his ass. Took everything way too seriously."

"That's what my brother said, too." You giggle. You weren't sure if they were being genuinely mean or not, but you decided to air on the side of caution. You wanted friends. "But he is truly lovely. Do you know him well?"

"You could say that." One of them answers vaguely and you just smile, tucking your bag back under the table. "Your bag is... interesting. Where did you get it?"

"Oh!" You say excitedly, lifting it back onto the table. "My Ma made it for me. Isn't it pretty?"

They laugh, and your smile fades. You thought it was very nice, made from pieces of scrapped linens that she had used in other projects, stitched together into a pattern that made up your shoulder bag. It was perfect for carrying your notebooks and pencils, you had brought it to school back home all your life.

"It's... something else." The girl with the short hair nods.

"Does your Ma hate you? That's so sad." The other girl pouts, resting her chin on her hand.

You quickly hide the bag away again at your feet. "No, of course she doesn't." You weren't sure what to say. Why were they being mean? They had been nice to you a moment ago.

"Did she make your dress, too?"

You just nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

"Wow, yeah, I could tell." You look down at the words, unsure as to what she could see that could be wrong with it. This was one of your favourites.

Admittedly, it was a little short on you, similar in style and colour to the one you had worn to the Capitol the first time you came. But now, looking at what she was wearing and her friend, both with button-up shirts similar to Coryo's and different coloured blazers with a matching skirt, you realize that your attire is very different. Different vastly from everyone in the room as well, as more students are trickling in.

You didn't think it mattered until now.

You don't get the chance to come up with anything in defense of your dress before she reaches out and grabs at the material of your scarf, rubbing it between her fingers. "This is the scarf you had with you in the games. It doesn't look like your mother made it, though. This is mulberry silk."

You jump a little at the unexpected contact, and they laugh. "Uhm, no, she didn't." You clear your throat. "It's a family heirloom. I'm not sure where it came from." Not entirely a lie, it just wasn't your family heirloom.

"Neat. So, where are you staying?" She asks after a moment.

"With Coriolanus and his family. They've been very kind to me." You smile. Their eyes go wide and they look at each other again.

"You mean, on the Corso?"

"Yes, that's what he told me it's called."

"Wow, you really made yourself comfortable here, huh?"

"Well," You laugh slightly. "It's been an interesting transition, but he's made it much easier. He helps as much as he can."

Simultaneously they pick up on the pink flush of your cheeks as you remember the amount of times he's come running when you had a nightmare, only to bring you water and back to his bed to sleep after. Weirdly enough, he made you feel safer now.

"Oh my god." The girl with the bob laughs. "You like him, don't you?"

"Of course I do. He's my friend." You smile, a little confused. That only makes them laugh more, and you pick up on what they were implying. Quickly, you turn even more pink in the face. "Well, I mean, um..."

"Y/N." You turn your head at the mention of your name, looking up at the girl now standing in front of you. She was smiling, and immediately seemed to have a kinder spirit than the girls you were already sitting with. "Come sit with me, Coryo asked me to save you a seat."

"Oh, okay." You nod, grabbing your things again and standing. You were eager now to get away from those other girls.

"Lysistrata, come on. We were just talking to our new friend." The girl with the ponytail pouts, and you look back at Coryo's friend. She just stares at them, something akin to a warning in her expression.

"Where do you want to sit?" You ask her, still recovering from their mildly embarrassing comment as you stand up.

She just nods toward one of the upper rows and starts walking. "It was nice to meet you." You smile at the girls nervously before following behind her.

"Oh, and Twelve?" You stop and turn when the girl with the ponytail speaks up again. "Good luck with Coriolanus, though I hate to tell you I have a head start. We're actually engaged. But like I said, good luck!"

You feel your face pale and you just nod, quickly turning away and focusing your gaze on the long dark braids belonging to the girl leading you up the stairs.

Your mind is absolutely reeling as you follow her to some seats near the back. You didn't know he was engaged. Honestly, you thought you were kind of his girlfriend. He told you he loved you not ten minutes ago, for god's sake! But maybe it had meant something different to him all along. Was this something they did in the Capitol? Because back home if you kissed someone that meant they were your one and only, but maybe that was very different here. So many things are very different here.

"They aren't engaged. Don't listen to her." Coryo's friend, Lysistrata you think her name was, says as you sit down.

You look over at her. "They aren't?"

"No." She scoffs. "Livia just thinks they're getting married because her daddy wants them to. They hardly ever even talk."

"Oh." You reply quietly, looking down the rows at the girls you were just with. That does ease your panic. "Not... not that it matters to me."

"It's okay." She smiles kindly at you. "To be honest, he hates her." She whispers. "I think you've got a much better chance. He speaks very highly of you."

You blush, smiling back at her. "I don't believe we've met properly. My name is Y/N."

"Nice to meet you." She smiles, and for the first time today, it feels genuine. "I'm Lyssie."

"Did you go to the academy too?" You ask for the sake of making conversation. She seems lovely, and you're excited at the idea of actually having a friend in one of your classes.

"I did." She smiles. "I was Jessup's mentor. Coryo and I worked a lot together during the games."

You chew on your lip, nodding slightly.

Today was just full of draining conversations.

"I'm sorry." She adds quietly. "You all deserved better."

"I'm sorry I didn't stay with him." You whisper. "I regret it every day."

"Don't. You did what you had to do, no one holds anything against you. I think you did the right thing."

You just nod, opening your notebook. You have to hope that once you get all these impossible conversations out of the way and people know you better, you'll have other things to talk about. And maybe one day, the topic won't make you want to cry, throw up, and jump off the nearest building all at once.

"He was one of the best of us. He should have won." You say quietly.

"Don't say that." She smiles sadly at you. "I'm glad it was you if it couldn't be him, and he was very sick. He wouldn't have made it much longer anyway."

"I had to go home and see his family." You felt comfortable talking to her, like she wouldn't judge you. It was a relaxing feeling. "My heart breaks for them, they're good people. And they needed him."

"You know his family?" She asks.

"Not really. We've crossed paths here and there, my Ma helps them on occasion with fixing their clothes." You shrug. "Still, though. From what I know, they try to stay in life. Instead of weeping when a tragedy occurs in a songbird's life, it sings away its grief. I believe we could well follow the pattern of our feathered friends."

"Would you happen to know their address? I would love to write to them. To apologize, that is." She explains and you smile, nodding before scribbling it down in your notebook and ripping out the page to hand to her.

"Thank you."

Another two hours, another "icebreaker", and more stares. You hoped that your classmates would eventually get tired of staring at you, you imagined it would make it quite difficult to take notes or pay attention to the lecture.

You felt almost guilty about it. Coryo didn't tell you that everyone would be so shocked but you shouldn't be surprised. Looking down at your clothes and the scarf that had almost entirely been cleaned of the blood stains it carried back to Twelve, you thought maybe it could have something to do with how you dress. Obviously, it would be distracting if you stood out so much, so maybe fitting in would be better. As much as you love your handmade clothes, maybe they would have to be reserved for time spent at the apartment or on rare days out.

Coryo is waiting outside since he got let out a few minutes early. There was no use in starting a lecture when going over the syllabus took a full hour and a half. When students start pouring out of your room, he looks at everyone waiting to see your smiling face. Well, hoping to see you smiling.

Lysistrata walks out first, and with no sign of you with her he grabs her arm to catch her before she turns the other way.

"Thank you for doing that." He says, smiling sympathetically at her.

"Of course." She grins. "She's lovely, we talked for a bit before class."

"Yeah, she is. Anyway, thanks." He nods at her, dropping her arm and with a kind nod, she's back on her way.

He counts his blessings that he had run into her after leaving you for that class a few hours earlier.

"Hey, Lyssie." He grins, stopping her in the hall as she was on the way to class.

"Coryo. How are you?" She smiles and he shrugs.

"I'm alright." He replies quickly. "What class are you going to?"

"Uh..." She looks briefly at her notes. "Geography. B217."

He sighs in relief, and she looks at him confused and lets him pull her to the side of the hall. "That's Y/N's class, would you mind sitting with her? She told me that this morning that no one would and I know she just really wants to make some friends... Could you do that for me?"

"Y/N? As in Y/N Y/L/N, your tribute?" Her eyes go wide and he nods. She didn't pay any attention to gossip and focussed more on getting from one class to another. She didn't even know that you were here.

He chews on his cheek while he waits for her to respond. If anyone was willing to make that social sacrifice, it would be Lyssie. School was never a popularity contest to her.

"Of course I can. Yeah."

When you walk out not long after her, he's quickly joining your side. Earlier, he felt so uneasy having you all over him with people watching and by now he just missed you. If he didn't know better, he would have decided he didn't care- but he has to.

"How was it?" He asks and you smile, as per usual, but he notes that now you have untucked your scarf and are instead using it to drape back over your shoulders and around your arms and back.

"It was delightful." You say happily, following his steps along the hall. "And yours?"

"Delightful?" He asks, smile tugging at his lips. He can't help it. "That wouldn't be a word I would use, but I would say it was okay."

"Okay is better than awful." You shrug.

"Certainly is." He agrees, leaning down to speak quietly into your ear in the loud hallway. "Missed my girl, though."

"Is that me?" You ask, allowing him to open the door to the building for you.

"Of course it's you." He chuckles as you pass him. "What do you mean?"

You laugh. "Well, I met a girl named Livia in my class and she told me that the two of you were engaged."

Coryo groans, letting the door fall shut as he follows behind you. "No, ew. She's... no. Absolutely not. Maybe if I planned on marrying someone I absolutely despise, then she would be the perfect candidate."

"But that's not what you look for in a woman?" You ask, turning to walk backward in front of him.

"Nope."

"I'll take your word for it." You giggle, seemingly nonchalant about Livia's apparently blatant attempts to scare you away. Coryo wouldn't let that happen, and he's glad you didn't see it that way.

He smiles at you as he rejoins your side.

"Coryo." You say, breaking up the peaceful quiet of your walk home. He looks at you. "I think I shall look for a job."

"A job?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at you. "You don't need a job, we talked about this. Just focus on school."

"No, I know." You say quietly. "But I think I would just like some spending money, perhaps get some new clothes. Wouldn't that be nice?"

His heart sinks unexpectedly. As much as he would love to see you blending in more and embracing the culture that came with living in the Capitol, it didn't feel like that would really suit you. If he wanted a Capitol girl, he could have had one. Apparently, that's not what he wanted anymore, but the more you blended in and became "one of them" like he promised Dr. Gaul you would, the more likely people would be to accept the extent of your relationship. However undefined it may still be.

"If that's what you would like, but you don't have to work for that." He shakes his head. "I told you I would take you to the mall, the one with the ice cream shop. Maybe we can go on Friday." Friday was the first day of your weekend- the one day during the week that neither of you had any classes.

"That would be fun." You smile up at him. "I'll just have a look around, see what people are wearing. Get a better idea of what to save for."

"If that's what you want, love."

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