#then you need to look past your own ass and realize just because something is made by an amateur

[salmonfur]

Im not gonna lie, I'm in love with McKenna Grace so happy with the ghostbusters movies. I don't really care about how they're a cash grab or purely working off nostalgia. I don't care about how it's full of nepotism babies and Paul Rudd (for some reason?) and I don't care about how it's not the same as the original movie and its sequel. Obviously not, this isn't the 80s. The effects are gonna look a little more HD, making the old ones seem cheesy. Even my aunts boyfriend thought that it wasn't as good because it wasn't as scary. I had to remind him that he watched the first two movies when he was 6 and they were reruns. I wasn't even that scared of the og ghostbusters when I was little cause it was compared to movies like idk the ring and Scooby Doo(2002) (like idk, point is, eggs cooking on counter tops aren't that freighting)

There are two movie franchises that I will watch no matter what. Jurassic Park/ World and Ghostbusters. Obviously I have a major bias for these movies but I think people will take their honorary movie critic certificate and act like they know the pinnacle of film because they saw the Godfather at 16. (Probably haven't even seen Alice (1988)) Obviously these movies are working off nostalgia bait but for what it is I'd watch both Afterlife and Frozen Empire again and again. Sorry for the schpeel I just want more fanfiction about Phoebe and that Ghost Girl

#and if you think me taking about fan fiction is any reason to disregard my argument #then you need to look past your own ass and realize just because something is made by an amateur #doesn't make it bad or whatever it just is #some times you need to look at media for what it is and accept it #it's ok to not like something I get it but things can still be seen as something that happened and not a blight forced in front of you #ghostbusters: frozen empire #phoebe spengler #ghostbusters #ghostbusters 2024 #opinions with sal

[yuujispinkhair]

Rough Mission -> Rough Sex

You always offer Yuuji comfort with your hugs, your kisses, and your words of reassurance. But on the nights when he comes home covered in blood and with that strange look in his eyes, you know that there is only one thing that helps him feel ok again: Sex. And not the sweet love-making kind, but the feral, rough-fucking kind, where Yuuji can let all his pain and anger out.

Pairing: Yuuji x Reader (female) Genre: smut Word Count: 1k Warnings: 18+, smut, rough sex, creampie, squirting, biting. Yuuji and reader are in a loving relationship and everything happens with reader's consent. All characters are of age. Divider by @/cafekitsune

The first time it happens, Yuuji tries to flee from you, walking past you with that haunted look on his face, and disappearing in the bathroom, where you find him a minute later, slumped against the wall, breathing harshly, with his eyes pressed shut, and his pants pushed down, his fat throbbing cock in his hand, jacking off furiously in a desperate attempt to get his mind off the horrible mission.

"Yuuji, what are you doing? Why are you here all alone? Let me..."

Golden eyes fly open and stare at you with a mix of pain and despair and something else. A feral glint you have never seen in Yuuji's eyes before. Even his voice sounds different, a low, barely restrained growl,

"Please, stay away... I don't think I can hold back when I'm in this state. Please, baby."

And you realize what the problem is. Oh, sweet Yuuji. Such a hero. So caring and selfless to a fault. He's scared to touch you because he's scared of his own strength. Scared to be too rough with you now that he's losing control.

But you're having none of it. You don't run. You walk over to the boy you love. You tilt your head to look up at him and cup his cheek tenderly while your other hand wraps around his rock-hard cock and pumps it in your fist, milking fat globs of pre-cum out of Yuuji's swollen, dark-pink tip as you tell him,

"I love you, baby. Just fuck all your troubles into me. I promise you it's ok. Please don't hold back."

And Yuuji growls. He really growls, and you know his resolve is slipping.

He fucks you hard on the bathroom floor, rutting into you like an animal in heat, growling and sobbing while he presses you down with his heavy body, taking you over and over again until he has fucked it all out, has fucked all his pain and anger into your spasming cunt.

After that night, he doesn't try to run from you anymore. He comes to you eagerly, seeking the comfort of your body. Seeking the sweet relief he can find in your arms and in your tight pussy.

The moment Yuuji walks into your apartment, you can already see when a mission was a rough one. His golden eyes are on you with that feral glint in them, his broad chest heaving, and his hands balled into fists as he strides toward you like a tiger on the prowl. So strong, so buff, so deadly. You are so wet for him that you don't just soak your panties but also your pajama shorts.

"Come here, Yuu. Fuck me, baby. Be as rough as you need."

He is on you in a split second, growling in the back of his throat as he presses his lips against yours in a fierce, desperate kiss. You still gasp anytime Yuuji lets you get a taste of his superhuman strength and speed. When he rips your clothes off, tearing at them with his strong hands in his urgent need to get you naked and sink his needy cock into your tight cunt and fuck all his anger into you.

His clothes follow a moment later, dropping to the floor in ripped pieces, exposing Yuuji's tall, buff body to you. His buff muscles are flexed, veins standing out from all the adrenaline still pumping through his body. He looks even bigger than usual, so strong, so feral, so fucking sexy.

You moan as Yuuji manhandles you, his large, strong hands flipping you onto your stomach and pushing your head down. A hard slap lands on your ass, and you hear Yuuji growl, followed by a hoarse,

"Fuck! I need you, baby, need to fuck you hard. Please... can I please?"

His fat cock is leaking pre-cum all over your ass in his need to fuck you. He wouldn't even have to ask. You will always give him anything he needs. You push yourself on your knees, ass up, face down, Yuuji's favorite position, offering yourself to him, moaning his name, and telling him to take you as hard as he needs.

And he does.

The growled "Thank you" has barely left Yuuji's lips when he already slams his thick needy cock deep into your soaked cunt with a brutal snap of his hips that makes both of you cry out loudly. Yuuji apologizes even while he grabs your hips and pulls you toward him, rolling his hips against you, fucking you open with hard, deep thrusts that knock the air out of you.

And from now on, it's rough fucking in the most primal way. The headboard is hitting the wall loudly with every hard snap of Yuuji's hips. His grunts and sobs fill the room, just like the wet noises of his fat cock pistoning in and out of your creamy cunt.

It's rough, it's loud, it's messy. Yuuji doesn't hold back anymore, and neither do you. You cream all over his cock several times, shameless and eager, unable to stop yourself from squirting when his swollen cockhead overstimulates your g-spot and the rough slaps of Yuuji's heavy balls against your swollen clit make you keen.

And he cums in you over and over again, not even pulling out in between, cock staying hard all the time because of his insane stamina, fucking you rough into the mattress while his large hands hold you in place and your name falls from his lips like a prayer.

You are both in a frenzy. Both like two animals in heat. Chasing one orgasm after the next.

You push yourself up, reaching frantically behind you to grab Yuuji's hair and moan his name with a voice hoarse from all the loud moaning and squealing, growling just like him as you give yourself over to the most primal need, screaming his name when he rams his fat, angry cock even deeper into you.

Yuuji's muscular arms wrap around you, his large, calloused hands kneading your tits roughly while he fucks you hard. And you urge him on, so eager to make him nut again, to make him forget anything else but the feeling of cumming in you and pulsing his hot seed into your tight cunt.

"Yes, baby, like that, oh god! Fuck me harder, Yuuji! Fuck it all into me, baby!"

Yuuji's teeth close around your shoulder, biting you just like he bites his enemies in the heat of battle. Leaving a mark in the shape of his teeth that you will carry for the rest of your life. He growls and sobs, desperate and horny, even as his hot tears drip down onto your naked body, running down between your tits that jiggle from Yuuji's hard thrusts.

"Fuck! Fuck yes! Thank you, baby, thank... fuck!! Gonna cum again!"

You feel him throb in you, filling you with another thick load of his hot cum, and you follow him a second later. Your cunt clenches wildly around Yuuji's fat, veiny cock, gushing over him and spraying your squirt all over the bed.

You mewl weakly as Yuuji finally slumps against you, his firm pecs and abs pressing against your sweaty skin, his strong arms wrapping tightly around you, this time in a loving embrace. His tall, muscular body embraces you, and his warm lips are on your neck, trailing tender kisses over the fresh bite mark he left, offering his love and care to you now that he feels better.

And you kiss him sweetly, moaning at the feeling of your cunt pulsing around Yuuji's gradually softening cock. There's a tender smile on Yuuji's face when he tells you he loves you. And you caress his hair and tell him you'll always be there for him. Any way he needs you. It's ok. Rough mission, rough sex.

FERAL YUUJI DRIVES ME FERAL TOO 💗💗 I love seeing him fight and get angry, but it also makes me yearn so much for him and want to comfort him. So yeah, he could get anything he needs, anytime he needs and as often as he needs it. I am so in love aaahh 💗

I hope you liked this horny little story about comforting Yuuji with sex ;) Please let me know what you think and scream with me about our fave hero!!

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

#yuuji x reader #yuuji smut #itadori x reader #itadori smut #yuji x reader #yuji smut #yuuji x you #yuji x you #itadori x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #yuuji x y/n #yuji x y/n #itadori x y/n

[yonch]

it's been 15 years and you can see better than ever

(design notes under the cut) (there are spoilers)

ok this got really long. here you go

sif:

ditched the cloak. it was collecting dust in their closet until recently, but they realized they don't need to cling to their grief so much anymore. someone else will need it more soon.

ditched the eyepatch. the prosthetic eye is a labor of love designed by isa, as is literally everything else they're wearing.

they cut their bangs finally and started braiding their hair back so it wouldn't obscure their vision as much anymore.

they like darker/tighter clothing and prefer function over form but unfortunately their gay ass boyfriend keeps treating them like a dress up doll so they're stuck wearing waistcoats and a fancy cloak. (they don't mind. it's designed to look like loop.) they keep flowers in their many pockets to give to people.

they're a woodworker in their free time. they don't usually talk about being any sort of savior so he just becomes sif the guy who's really good at carving birthday presents for people and also tags along with isa to charity parties and fundraisers

41 year old 5'1" they/he absolutely zero intention of Changing. bonded to isabeau. they adopted a kid who leo or i might post about some other time i think. her name is estelle.

isa: i'm not taking credit for the design that's by my friend @fembard /@leoweooo. i'll include his design notes

isa dresses mostly for comfort, he doesn't like wearing stuff that might get stained or ruined when he's dyeing clothes or chasing stelle around in the mud or something, all his fashion sense goes into his handiwork

he Changed a few more times over the 15yrs, eventually settled. picked up she/her pronouns again on the side but was never really able to ditch the name isabeau and he kinda ran out of names anyways...

kept the long hair, kept a few inches in height, very happy to fulfill the role of male (space) wife

can't ditch the kimono jacket it's the piece de resistance. odile influence and Wisening Of Age means its made with a little more knowledge of ka buan technique but still very clearly an Isa Design. the fabric is imported silk sif!!!!!!

39 year old Tall with a capital T he/she "i swear i'm not a weeaboo i'm just really into ka buan fashion" vaugardian indie clothing designer in your area help support this man in his attempts to use his family members as living advertisements for his brand

mira: with design input from @jastertown thank you my friend

i took a lot of inspiration for the sparkly, sheer fabric on her dress from euphrasie. she's not head housemaiden yet because she doesn't feel like she's ready but everybody knows it'll be her

speaking of inspiration. she's been taking a lot of fashion cues from a certain lady in dormont that she thought was kind of scary, but it turns out she's very nice? they're besties now.

she got rid of the earrings for a little bit but then she realized she just liked how they look on her. so now they go ding ding! it's for her and nobody else, and that's how she likes it.

moved her ornaments to her skirt because they ding ding more often there. her necklace also jingles with merriment.

38 year old she/her advanced cisgender+ legend who's realizing that people are trying to get her to be the pope but all she really wants to do is write yaoibait fiction that looks like it came straight off of ao3

odile:

my glorious hag. she started shrinking about 3 years ago. all those years of bending over books has finally caught up to her. her hips are fuuuuuucked. but she has a sick cane that sif carved for her so everything's okay

she was already pretty comfortable and settled in her sense of style when she was nearing 50 so i don't think she would change much. darker clothing maybe. ditched the high-waisted pants for some looser slacks.

she's started writing a familytale of her own. the only person she's told about it is bonbon, who caught her up way past their bedtime, and scribbled all over one of the pages. she'll pass it on to sif when the time's right, after she's written down everything she can remember about their family.

64 year old she/her wasian researcher recovering from hernia surgery who's getting really into things like "political activism" and "body craft law reformation in ka bue" and "making sure people aren't sourcing their hrt from back alleys"

bonnie:

prefers to go by boniface these days. it's cooler. more mature. please stop calling me bonbon that's a nickname from when i was 10 guys c'mon guys ugh fine frin you can still call me bonbon but not around my girlfriends ok (nobody calls them boniface except for odile)

speaking of which they have 3 butch lesbian girlfriends. this got established as a joke but i think they have it in them. they're still young!!!!!!! they should be at the club!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

they traveled for a while with everybody but eventually settled down back in bambouche to start a little family owned restaurant with nille featuring dishes from all over the globe. people travel from all over to get a taste of boniface's good eats... bambouche is bustling. (they have a few recipes that are sourced from the country. they meet people every once in a while who find something achingly familiar about it, and they usually direct those people to jouvente to get in contact with frin.)

26 year old they/them "i dont know how tall i am but i'm taller than za" chef cooker whose restaurant keeps lighting on fire because this time i swear nille i can figure out how to do cooking craft i swear i wont explode the kitchen this time please i promise

loop:

ok. this is where lozy gets to just talk about what he thinks happens post game. i think they stick around for way longer than they really should and follow the crew around on their travels (mostly invisibly) because they're sooo fucking scared of change they're sooo scared and they're so scared of their wish fucking up beyond belief. they're kind of incapable of aging or dying in this body and theyre like permanently 26 which is what spurs them to finally move on.

i think they go back to their timeline eventually after making a Brand New Wish to "go back to their real family." alas the universe leads and we can only follow. and it turns out loop has actually made a real family in stardust's world also. this is my justification for why they can pop in between sasasap and isat worlds without much repercussion. i think they're always permanently loop shaped in isat but i imagine they can probably go back to their original body in their home timeline... might design that later. who knows. i'm fucked like that

i just think they deserve a chance for their own happy ending you know. isat's a game about how it's never too late to communicate and how you shouldn't punish yourself forever and ever. and i think theyve punished themself enough you know.

ok tank you for reading if you read this far. it's really big and long so i would understand if you didn't. but i hope you liked it. thoughts appreciated. here's a little something for the people who read all the way through.

#isat #in stars and time #siffrin #siffrin isat #isafrin #isat game #postgame isat #loop #isabeau #mirabelle #odile #bonnie #boniface #spoilers are only under the read more #my drawings #etoile tag

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Beautiful Stranger

I've Never Seen a Mouth That I Would Kill to Kiss (2)

Mommy!Wanda x Beefy!Fem!Reader

Summary: You've been helping out with the boys for a few months and getting closer to Wanda

Word Count: 3.8K

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Thigh riding (W to R), R is referred to as Daddy, fingering (R to W), subspace, Dom/sub dynamics

A/N: Here is part 2 because this is all my brain can work with at the moment is fixing this up for you guys~

August 28,2023

The end of summer flew by as you continued to babysit the boys on occasion while Wanda worked out things with her soon to be ex-husband.

Wanda hadn't told you when you first met her, but she did eventually when you woke up in her bed one morning to her throwing up in the master bath. Rushing over to hold her hair and sooth her by rubbing her back.

“Did you eat something bad last night?” You asked with concern in your voice, but she shook her head, looking at you with tears in her eyes. Some of them rolled down her cheeks, staining them with makeup from the night before. You helped wipe them away enough that she could calm down and say it,

“I'm pregnant.” She told you letting you know it had happened before her and her husband had talked about divorce. She was about three months when you found out.

You grabbed a cool face cloth, dabbing her face, wiping the new tears that had formed and finally cleaning her mouth. You leaned back against the sink counter, holding her hand.

“We'll figure something out. Whatever it is,” You shrug, letting your thumb brush against the back of her hand a soft smile on your face. “I'll be here for you Wanda.” Wanda started crying and you blamed it on the hormone because you didn't think much about what you said, but in that moment it was exactly what Wanda needed to hear. That someone, anyone was on her side and you? You were on her side the moment you met her.

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September 11,2023

As you started up college and the boys started up school you came over every weekday morning to help get them off to school.

Wanda was starting to show ever so slightly, especially when she still wore these tight tank tops from the heat. She was currently leaning over the kitchen island talking to the boys as you tried not to stare at her boobs that were practically spilling out of her tank top.

“Okay boys. Off you go. Y/N will pick you up from practice and I'll be home at six for dinner.” Wanda tells the boys.

“I'll be making dinner so think about what you want otherwise I'm picking!” You call as they head out the door.

Wanda and you both had a few hours before having to go your separate ways. Recently it felt like the two of you were closer than ever with tantalizing brushes here and there against each other. She'd find excuses to brush past you, her ass rubbing against you, making you want to just grab her and fuck her.

It honestly made you wonder if it was her pregnancy hormones. You had read about it affecting your libido so maybe Wanda was just as horny as you were?

You moved over to Wanda, helping her with the dishes, bending over as you stacked the plates from the bottom rack and moving around Wanda to go put them away in the cupboard next to her.

“Oh sweet girl you don't have to do that.” Wanda says.

“I know Wands, I want to help you. I told you I'm here for you.” Wanda bit her lip looking away,

“Pretty girl?” Wanda's voice was soft and gentle, making you turn towards her.

“Hm?” You asked, realizing just how close the two of us were as you looked down at her. You were almost a whole head taller than her. She looked up at you still biting her lip. You just want to…your hands moved with your thoughts, setting on top of her hips and pulling her against you. “What is it beautiful?” You’re surprised by your own forwardness. You'd never called Wanda a nickname other than Wands. You saw the blush on her cheeks as she tried to form words, taken aback by your words.

“Y-you think I'm beautiful?” She asks in utter disbelief.

“Do I think you're beautiful? Of course I do, but more than just beautiful. You're gorgeous, you're intelligent, you're kind and caring, and an amazing mother. Wanda you are so many things I can't even begin to get into it all right now because it would take me all day to count the ways that I think you're amazing.” You confess, Wanda licks her lips and you cup her cheek.

“Please…” she pleads softly.

“Please, what beautiful?” You ask, tilting your head.

“Please kiss me.” She does not have to ask you twice as you lean down to capture her lips and suddenly it's like everything is right with the world. Like your world was in black and white, but now with this kiss you can see in color. The pieces of a puzzle coming together to fit perfectly and fireworks are going off to celebrate.

We pull apart for air, but you lean your forehead on hers. She leans up giving you small, soft pecks until you can't stand it, you lift her up by her thighs, setting her on the countertop. Keeping her just at the edge so You can grind into her. She moans into your mouth.

“Ah…ah…Y/N…Y/N/N...” fuck hearing her moan your name with that accent. You let your hand slip past her waistband finding her panties soaked as you rub through them.

“That's not fair, beautiful using my nick name like that.” You growl against her neck, trailing kissing. “There was a reason I told you not to use my nick name with those pretty lips of yours.” You had Wanda moaning and mewling for you as you pulled back to look at her. “Fuck…you are absolutely gorgeous���” You captured her lips once more, rubbing small circles against her clit through her panties.

Just as the two of you were getting into it there was a knock at the door making both of you freeze up before Wanda’s eyes went wide.

“Fuck...it’s Vis. I forgot he was coming by to finally grab the last of his things.” Wanda whispered.

“I haven’t seen him come by once all summer and now of all days!?” You whisper hiss more to the air than to Wanda as she got down from the counter.

“Just stay here. Continue with the dishes and go along with what I say, okay? Can you do that pretty girl?” She asked cupping your cheek and you nodded. Going back to the dishes keeping your back to the kitchen’s opening as you heard the two of them talking faintly before the two voices got louder and your anxiety rose.

“Wanda who is this?” He had an British accent, finally you turned around. He didn’t look happy, but you felt comfortable saying that he didn’t have any height on you and you definitely had more muscle than him. He was dressed in a suit, light brown, blonde hair, and blue eyes.

“Oh this is Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N from next door.” Wanda tells him. “She and her parents moved in at the beginning of the summer. She’s been the boys babysitter throughout the summer and she’s also helping with them after school before I get home from work.” She tells him.

“So why is she here now?” He questions, he’s clearly upset.

“Oh I was just finishing up the dishes before heading off. I have class in an hour so I told Wanda I’d take care of this so she didn’t have to stretch and bend so much.” You told him, a fake smile plastering your face.

“Well she could use the exercise.” You felt your face physically twitch at his response. Biting the inside of your lip and your fist clenching up. How fucking dare he?

“It’s no trouble at all. I really enjoy doing dishes.” You somehow manage out. Wanda is staring at me shaking her head. She must see it on your face how you just want to punch him. “Well anyways I know you two need a moment. I’ll finish up soon and head off so please don’t mind me.” Another fake smile before turning away. Grabbing the silverware as the two made their way to Wanda’s room and you finally let out growl that was deep in your throat. “Fucking bastard.” You muttered under your breath finishing up before leaving, probably slamming the door a little harder than intended, making note to apologize to Wanda tonight.

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“Go Billy! Go Tommy! Come on you got this boys!” You called out from the stands as they played a practice game of soccer.

“Are the twins yours?” An older woman asks.

“Oh uh, no not really, I’m good friends with their mom.” You tell her. “I pick them up from practice for her because she works late.” She nods.

“They’re lucky they get to have you cheering for them.” As she said that you turned your head back to the field as Billy took a shot and made a goal.

“BILLY! WAY TO GO BUD!” You called out as he smiled big at you.

As the boys finished up Billy ran up and you picked him up, putting him on your shoulder. “Billy Maximoff makes the goal and wins the game! The crowd goes wild!” You bounce up and down making Billy laugh. He’s come out of his shell and Tommy comes over You wrap your arm around him. “Alright boys what do we want for dinner?” You ask.

“Mac and cheese.” Tommy says.

“Chicken nuggets and fries.” Billy says.

“Okay normally I would say no to making two meals but those are both incredibly easy to make so we’ll let it slide for tonight. Let’s stop at the grocery store so I can grab some things to make for your mom and I for dinner and you two can pick out what you want.” The boys are overjoyed as you let Billy down the two scrambling to your car, getting inside as soon as you unlocked it.

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When Wanda gets home she mentions all the different scents as she walks to the kitchen in a lovely looking pantsuit. You smile at her in your tank top, sweat pants, and apron. “Welcome home.” You say, “It’s going to be a little bit longer for our dinner. I let the boys pick two different things for dinner. We had a hard time deciding when we were at the store if we wanted regular mac and cheese or the fun shapes for Tommy then Billy couldn’t decide if he wanted the dino nuggets or the star shaped ones and which fries he wanted to go with them.” You explain to Wanda as you move to the stove stirring the contents of a home made stew, adding a bit more of a rue to thicken it up.

Once September hits you get in the mood to make all different soups and stews. Wanda walked over, wrapping an arm around me, the boys upstairs working on their homework. You melted slightly into her.

“It seems like Daddy had a day with the boys.” She whispered in your ear, making you throw your head back against her shoulder, rolling your eyes to her,

“Oh don’t do that right now. I can’t even take you right now.”

“All the more fun later when you can.” She kisses you quickly. You groan in response, You were impatient and wanted her now after your little interruption this morning.

“I’m sorry about this morning. I almost jumped the island when he made that comment.” You apologized.

“No it’s okay. He isn’t wrong.” You turn your whole body to face Wanda now, backing her into the island. “Y-Y/N?”

“Don’t. Don’t you even for a second entertain his idiotic, red flag walking, ass of comments about your appearance. Remember what I said this morning? You’re beautiful and gorgeous and so many other things Wanda. Please don’t listen to his words.” Your hands are gripping at her hips, You swear You might leave bruises from how tight you’re holding her right now.

“Y/N...” Her voice is breathy. You lean in and whisper in her ear.

“Tonight I’ll show you just how beautiful I think you are and I’m not going to stop until you agree.” You kiss her jaw just by her ear as you hear the oven go off. “Oh that would be Billy’s nuggets and fries!” You turn on a dime turning back into the house-dad role you’d been in, leaving Wanda reeling as you pull them out, taking one nugget and fry to test them. “Okay those are done for him,” You look at the mac and cheese in the shape of SpongeBob characters, “That is also all done.” You take a taste of the stew, “Mmmm needs a little more paprika.” You mumble, taking a pinch and adding it.

“My favorite.” Wanda kisses your shoulder.

You get everything set up with Wanda and call the boys down for dinner. As you all sit down and start eating you tell Billy to tell his mom about practice today. Wanda being thrilled to hear about it.

Soon enough it’s 8pm and the two of you are tucking the boys into bed. You tuck in Tommy, Wanda gets Billy then you switch. “Mommy? Y/N?” Billy asks as the two of you are at the threshold of their bedroom.

“Yes Billy?” Wanda answers for us.

“Now that you and Daddy aren’t together anymore are you and Y/N going to get together?” Billy asks and Tommy laughs.

“Billy they’ve been together all summer!” He answers his brother and you chuckle. Wanda give you a playful smack.

“Boys, Y/N and I aren’t together. Yes she spends a lot of time here, but her and I are still figuring things out. Daddy and I just ended things so Mommy would like to be able to think about things.” You knew Wanda was making excuses, but it still hurt a bit.

“We’ll let you boys know if anything happens. If fact you two will be the first to know, okay?” You tell them, both of them smiling, looking at each other.

The two of you were finally able to leave the two alone, you head back down stairs while Wanda goes and takes a shower. You clean up the mess of the kitchen, loading the dishwasher and cleaning up papers from the boys, take out the trash.

All while thinking about what Wanda said, having your music playing just loud enough that You wouldn’t disturb the boys. The song ‘Nothing Hurts Like a Girl’ starts playing and I’m singing and dancing while cleaning up.

“I hope you aren’t singing about me.” You hear Wanda’s voice, making you jump, gripping the counter.

“Jesus fuck!” You hiss. “Don’t sneak up on me.” She laughs as the song continues to play. “Also excuse you that is a song about loving woman and yes also about getting hurt by them, but damn it women are hot and a shit ton better than any guy I’ve been with.” You admit Wanda crosses the kitchen until her body is pressed against yours, she isn’t wearing a bra, a loose shirt and sleep shorts.

“How many people have you been with?” She asks and you feel like this has to be a trick question. “I won’t get upset. I don’t mind if you’ve been with a lot of people.” She reassures, wrapping her arms around your waist.

“Promise?” Wanda nods. It takes you a moment, tilting your head back as You list them in your head, using your fingers to keep track. “Uh off the top of my head, not including nights where I blacked out and woke up with someone 10.” Wanda looks surprised, but not upset.

“All your age?” She asks and you nod.

“Yeah nothing ever lasted all that long. It’s like I had this attraction until I had them I guess. Then I’d kiss them and be like nah this isn’t it, but I’d still end up sleeping with them. I usually wouldn’t even let them touch me.” You find yourself explaining to her. “With you though it’s been different. Your touch feels addictive, it’s like fire dancing on my skin. I can’t get enough of you. I felt like I was broken before I met you.” You tell her, looking into her eyes.

She blushes and laughs letting me guide her and kiss her getting her up on the counter next song to come on is perfect, ‘Taste of You’

You let your hand into her shorts brushing her clit, “Y/N/N don’t you dare tease me right now.” She growls in your ear and your eyes roll back.

“Oh beautiful it’s cute that you think you’re in charge.” You put pressure on her clit. “You aren’t calling the shots right now; I am. You were the one that called me Daddy earlier beautiful.” You let your teeth scrap her neck, nibbling on her ear lobe. “Daddy’s in charge. Understood?” Wanda nods, “Words beautiful.”

“Yes Daddy.” She speaks softly, voice shaking.

“You’ve never done it like this have you beautiful?” You ask, picking her up by her thighs which she’s a little surprised You can do still as You bring her to the couch, sitting with her in your lap. She shakes her head, cheeks turning scarlet. “I’ll be gentle and you tell me if you want it harder or faster. You can set the pace. I like to use the color system of safe words. Green means you’re okay and we can keep going, yellow is slow down, red is stop no questions asked.” You explain and her face gets even more red, burying her face into your neck, making you smile. “Can you repeat the colors for me beautiful?” You ask while rubbing her through her panties, feeling how wet she’s getting from just talking about all this.

“Green is keep going, yellow is slow down, red is stop.” She repeats.

“Good girl. Can you tell Daddy what you want?” You ask softly in her ear.

“I-inside...” You push her panties to the side, letting your fingers slide over her wet folds, enjoying them until she’s shaking a bit, pushing two fingers inside her pussy, your fingers being wrapped up in her as she moans against your skin.

“You’re absolutely soaked beautiful. You took Daddy’s fingers so well.” You kiss her neck.

“M-more...” She whines.

“You want another finger?” she nods.

“F-fill me up Daddy...” You add a third finger moving a bit faster and a bit rougher instinctively. She bites into your shoulder to stop a moan ripping through her. Her hips are rocking against your fingers as she bites and sucks on your skin. You knew she was leaving marks on your skin.

“Oh that’s my beautiful girl. Look at you moving against Daddy’s fingers so well. Maybe next time you can take Daddy’s cock, would you like that? Daddy to fill you with her cock?” Wanda moans, nodding as she covers her mouth. If the boys weren’t asleep upstairs you’d be upset with her for stopping her moans like she was.

“Yes...yes Daddy, please...I’m gonna cum...” Her eyes are blown out from lust,

“Not until you tell me you’re beautiful.” You slow your movements much to her dismay, mewling, moving her hips to try and keep the high going. “Tell me that you’re beautiful and I’ll let you cum and we can keep going until you tell me to stop.” You tell her, she bites her lip.

“I-I’m beautiful...Daddy I’m beautiful, Daddy’s beautiful girl.” You smile, leaning up to kiss her.

“That’s right beautiful girl. Now cum for Daddy.” You pick your pace back up until she has to once again muffle herself by biting into your skin. You feel her tighten against your fingers, gushing, but you don’t let up your movements,

“D-Daddy...I came...” You smirk.

“I know beautiful girl. You can give Daddy another, right?” You ask and her head nods. “Good girl.” You keep your movements up making her cum again, soaking your hand and thigh. She’s a shaking mess in your lap. “Such a beautiful good girl. Daddy is so lucky.” You whisper holding her against your chest. You keep whispering praises in her ear, she’s moving her hips against your thigh, rutting into it and you chuckle. “Oh my beautiful girl do you still need more?” You ask and she looks up at you, you can see it in her eyes. You’ve dropped her so deep into subspace, somewhere she’s never been.

“More Daddy please...it’s been so long since I’ve cum...please...” She begs pulling at your shirt, tugging it up over your head, your breast bouncing a bit as she leans down, playing and sucking and biting.

“Mmmm good girl.” You let your head tilt back against the couch. You’ve never felt like this with someone and it sinks in that you never actually loved any of those people. Well you loved some of them, but not like this. Not like how it feels with Wanda.

Wanda’s hand finds its way past your panties as she continues to rut against your thigh, rubbing you as you let out a breathy moan. “Good girl. Make Daddy feel good while you rub against her.”

Wanda builds you up along with herself until we cum together. You have to cover her mouth as she doesn’t have the thought process right now to do so herself.

You slowly pull her out of subspace, getting her off of your thigh, grabbing a nice fluffy blanket, grabbing some water for both of us, and turning on a comfort show of Wanda’s as you pull her back against your chest.

“You did good for your first session Wands.” You tell her, kissing the top of her head. You can see her smile before she looks up at me.

“Y/N?” She asks.

“Wanda?” You tease back, kissing her nose.

“I love you.” Your breath hitches in your throat. “When you had me admit that I was beautiful. I knew that you meant what you said all day. I actually think I’ve loved you for a while, but it wasn’t until that moment that I realized it fully.” She rambles and you pull her into a deep, passionate kiss.

“I love you too Wanda. I’ve love you basically since I met you, but seeing you like this for me, making me feel good like no one ever has...I can’t deny it anymore.” You feel tears pricking the sides of your eyes and blink them away. “I don’t care that you’re older than me. I don’t care that you’ve already got kids, I don’t care that you’re divorced. Wanda Maximoff I love you and no one is going to stop me from loving you.” You admit. “I want to be here every day with you, with the boys, with this little bundle on the way. I want us to be a family.” Wanda is crying and smiling and You kiss her cheeks. “I mean it Wanda. I promise.” She nods.

“I want it too Y/N. I want you here with us. I want you to help me with the boys and live life together if you’re sure you want all of this with me.”

“I do.” You kiss her with everything that you are.

#ley writes #ley writes series #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximommy #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #mommy!wanda #beefy!fem!reader

[jksprincess10]

The handyman part 1 || Joel Miller x reader

Summary: You broke your bed and need Joel Miller, your handy neighbor in Jackson, to fix it. 

CW: FLUFF, sexual tension, talks about past losses, age gap, not smut but it’s coming.

Read part 2

A few weeks ago, a man and his daughter had moved in the vacant house next to yours in Jackson.  He mostly kept to himself, you knew only pieces of information; he was named Joel, he was Tommy’s brother and he worked in construction in another life. Lastly, he was very handsome for his age.

Having a handyman just next door was a good thing. Especially, when one night, during terrible nightmares, you broke your bed. You fought so hard, because you thought that the dream was real, that the bottom of the frame was split, and you were now sleeping on the floor.

It took you a few days of sleeping badly to build up the courage to knock on your door. When you did, his daughter opened the door. She was well in her teens and had the reputation of being too… honest.

“Yes?”

“I’m looking for… Mr Miller.”

She laughed so hard at how you called him that she had to support herself with her hands on her knees, and you felt your cheeks burning.

“Don’t call him like that, please, he’ll beat your ass.”

“What’s that about, Ellie?”

You heard Joel’s voice and the loud thumping of his work boots, before he appeared behind Ellie. Your eyes traveled to him instantly. He had broad shoulders, curly greying hair, and a trimmed beard.

“Your date’s here I guess.” Ellie shrugged and left you between adults.

“Sorry ‘bout her. What can I do for ya?”

Joel looked down at you. You were a sweet thing, probably just old enough to be born before the outbreak.

“I… uh… sorry to bother you. You told me you worked in construction. right?” He nodded, waiting for you to get to the point. “Guessed you were probably… good with your hands.” You just realized how it sounded and slapped your palm against your forehead. “What I mean is. I need you to fix something for me. Please.  In exchange… I’ll… I’ll cook for you two. Or… anything else you need, really.”

“Just let me get my tools, I’ll be right over.” He tried to ignore his racing dirty thoughts as he went to the garage to bring his trusty toolbox. There’s a lot you could do for him, actually.

He followed you to your home and you opened your unlocked door. “What d’ya need fixed?” He asked.

“My bed.”

“Oh.” Joel responded, fingers playing with the back of his hair in an awkward gesture.

The simple syllable made you realise how bad this all sounded. Joel instantly imagined you getting pounded in your bed by some other young guy in the town that had eyes only for you, until your bed broke.

“I-It’s not what you think, I assure you. Please, follow me.”

Joel followed you up your creaking stairs to your only bedroom. It was a small house, he thought. He kneeled beside the broken frame while you sat on your mattress that was laying on the floor.

You felt out of your place, with Joel in your bedroom.

You felt out of place when you imagined how he would look kneeled in front of you.

“God, what did you do. I can fix the bed legs for now, but we’ll need new planks of wood for the bottom.”

“W-Wouldn’t you like to know what I did.” You smiled, trying to build some sort of confidence. “I don’t. Rhetoric question.” He said while he fumbled through his toolbox to find what he needed. Truth is, he felt jealousy lighting a fire in his stomach. Who put their dirty hands on you?

His coldness kept you silent for a moment while he was putting your bed legs back on the bottom of the frame.

“I… had a bad nightmare. I get violent in my sleep. This is why I sleep alone, I guess.” You explained, even though he probably didn’t care.

He imagined how soft you’d be in his arms, on his own mattress. He would reassure you so you’d sleep well. He grunted in frustration, hoping you didn’t hear. But you did. And you laughed to hide the fact that you were trying to imagine if he would grunt the same way while you were sucking his dick.

He turned around to look at you, hammer in hand and a nail between his teeth.

“Don’t make me use this hammer for laughing at me.” He finally let go of some of his walls to show some humour. “I’m old, being on my knees is hard.” He said as an excuse.

“I’d never. So… wood? Do we have that?”

“Might have to look around a bit. It’s getting a bit late though, so I can do that for you tomorrow. Sorry.”

“Another night of sleeping on the floor isn’t too bad, I guess.”

You felt dumb when you had wished he would have offered to sleep with him. And he wanted to, so bad. Last time he was this close to a woman was… well, we don’t talk about it.

Your silence filled your bedroom, your eyes lost in his stature. The way his flannel stretched against his back, the way his jeans looked tight on his muscular thighs.

“Ellie’s going out tonight. You can probably use her room.”

“N-No, it’s fine, really.”

It was a bad idea, even though you wanted to.

Maybe he had overstepped.

When he was done fixing your bed legs, he got up with a grunt of pain, and walked to you, sitting beside you on your old mattress. He felt awkward, like he didn’t know how to talk to a woman anymore.

“Thank you.” You finally said as you looked up to him. His chocolate eyes were beautiful, even if the wrinkles around them made him looked tired. Maybe he smiled a lot in another life.

He was so close, you could feel the faint odour of soap, buried in his woodsy smell. You could just lean in and kiss him, just to see what he would feel like.

“So… diner, huh? What about now? And just me? Since Ellie’s going out. ”

“S-Sure!”

You got up first to climb down the stairs to your kitchen. He followed you closely, eyes momentarily looking at the sweet curve of your ass filling your jeans.

“I have some chicken and chicken bones to go through, is a soup okay for you?”

“Sounds good.”

He sat at your wooden table so he could watch while you were starting to work on the broth. It would probably take a while.

“So, you live alone?” He observed.

“Yeah. Don’t have anyone to break my bed with.”

You turned around to look at him with a small smile.

How he wished he was pounding into you hard enough to break all your furniture. He would then fix everything for you just to stay longer.

You saw how he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Don’t get hard, asshole.” He thought.

“My… past partner died before I got here.” You finally said.

He thought of Tess. “Same.”

“M’sorry…” You sat on an empty counter while you were waiting for the broth to be ready. You didn’t dare approach him too much, you feared not being able to resist him. “Guess we’re both extremely lonely. At least, you have your daughter.”

“She’s… adopted. Not my real daughter.”

“I see… Want a taste? And see if it’s up to your standards.” You asked as you took the spoon in hand to fill it with the warm and comforting broth.

Joel got up from his chair and approached you, palms on each side of your thighs as he bent down to taste the soup. It felt intimate, feeding him like that. He could probably hear your heartbeat in your whole body.

“Hmhm. It’s good.” He approved.

The spoon fell from your hands, and he caught it just in time.

“I’m sorry. I just… fuck. You make me nervous.” You laughed.

“I didn’t mean to.” He backed away. “I can leave if you want.” You held on his soft shirt to keep him close.

“Don’t. I might have other things to fix, who knows?”

He laughed, and you swore you saw his cheeks getting redder. You let go of his shirt.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay.”

“Make yourself comfortable, Joel, there’s whiskey in the cupboards and beer in the fridge. I’ll watch over the broth while it boils.”

You got back on your feet, eyes staying on the yellowish liquid warming up on the stove, while your spoon was making small waves in the mixture. You didn’t dare to look at Joel for now. You heard him grab a bottle, 2 glasses and ice.

He put a glass beside you, and you smiled shyly. Joel looked at the bottle, that dated before the outbreak. “Good taste.”

“Thank you.”

**

You both finally sat at the wooden table; it was just big enough for 2 people, you didn’t have many visitors. Your legs were almost touching under the table.

“There’s gonna be a lot left. You can bring some at home. Maybe Ellie will appreciate.”

“Sure. It’s way better than my cooking. Can barely cook some chef Boyardee.”

“Damn. You need a woman in your life.” You laughed. The whiskey had loosened you up a little.

“Yes, I do.”

“So… what was life like before this for you? I was like… 6 when it started. So, I barely remember.”

So, Joel was 30 years older than you. He couldn’t keep flirting with you, he felt so bad about it. But you didn’t care.

He almost choked on his drink. “Fuck, you’re young.”

“Sorry.” You shrugged. “Not like I care.”

“To answer your question… there’s not much I wanna talk about it. Life was good with my sweet Sarah.”

“I’m… sorry.” You paused for a moment. “My parents did their best when it started. But they had to give me up to FEDRA at some point. When I was old enough to make my own decisions, I left with my partner. We were on the road for a while, and it lasted like that for years… Until he got infected, and I had to shoot him. After that, I found Tommy’s group and here I am.”

He admired how you could tell your story very calmly and coldly. To reassure you, he put his palm over your hand and softly pressed around your fingers. His warmth pulled you out of your thoughts.

“I’m sorry you lost people.”

“We all lost people, Joel.”

**

When you two finished eating together, you walked him to his door. Your body only wanted to follow him inside, to share more of his body’s warmth.

“You… sure you don’t want to come in?” He asked awkwardly.

“Yes. I’ll see you tomorrow, Joel. Thank you.” You smiled softly. “After all, I’m too young to sleep at an old man’s house, right?” You added as you rolled your eyes.

You got up on your toes to press a kiss on his rough cheek, before going back to your house without looking back.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #Joel Miller x yn #joel miller x y/n #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

[likedovesinthewindd]

request: I wanted to request a Farleigh Start x fem reader. Where they are both American and he asks that she helps him with an essay. During the process, he starts having feelings for her because of her honesty towards him but she doesn’t realize it until he says it out loud.

★ tags: @darkeyesshine

You were surprised when Farleigh had initially approached you for help on an essay. You knew him, not personally, but the two of you attended tutorials under the same tutor, and before that, you've seen him around campus plenty of times, usually accompanied by his plethora of friends.

You were, however, not at all surprised when he hadn't shown up the next day as he promised. You checked the time on your wristwatch; thirty something minutes passed since you had arrived at the library. You couldn't say it was uncommon for him, considering he wasn't exactly known for his punctuality or perfect attendance, but you'd be dammed if he was going to waste your time when he was the one who needed your help.

You huffed in annoyance, beginning to pack away your books and call it a day when you noticed Farleigh's tall figure appeared from behind one of the bookshelves, eyes darting around until he saw you sitting by one of the long tables. He took a seat at the chair next to yours rather than the one across from you as he started rummaging through his bag.

"You're late," you said, reopening your books and trying not to show too much irritation at his tardiness and still remain cordial. "So sorry ma'am. Won't happen again, ma'am," he said sarcastically as he dropped his books on the table with a loud thud before sighing. "But in all seriousness, I really am sorry. So, uh, shall we start?"

To his credit, he stayed true to his promise (kinda) and would always be early enough for your sessions, most days looking like death itself due to a previous night of partying or studying. Farleigh was actually very smart; people always seemed to forget that considering strings had to be pulled to get him into Oxford due to his past behavior and poor choices. You still liked him, though, and had grown used to his sarchotic personality and the playful banter that came with it.

He himself had grown quite fond of you, too. He liked that you never spared him his own verbal lashings and never sugar-coated anything; whether it was critique on his writing or telling him he wasn't going to see 30 with the way he needed a smoke break every five minutes.

Today was the last session before he was to submit his work for moderation, and as you read through his work for the last time, you could feel his eyes burning holes into the side of your head. You chalked it down to him being really eager to get all of this over with.

"It looks really good," you smiled as you slid the file back to him. You were half expecting him to simply take the file and be on his way with a half-assed thank you thrown your way, but he actually seemed very grateful for your efforts. "I owe you one," was the last thing he said before he was already halfway across the library. Later that night, he would be at your dorm room door with a gift bag in hand.

"A thank you gift," he smiled as you took the bag from him. "It wasn't necessary, but thank you," you said. "It definitely was," he argued, "You saved my ass."

"I also kinda wanted a reason to come and tell you about Anabel's little get-together tomorrow night. The Christmas party?" he added. "I know about it. And I heard its invite only," you said, crossing your arms. "That's why I'm telling you. I'm inviting you," he said very matter-of-factly. "Why do you want me to go, don't you have friends?"

"Are we not also friends?" he said, sighing when your eyebrows knit together in confusion. "C'mon, are you really gonna make me beg?"

"No, I don't mind going with you, I just didn't think you liked me that much," you said truthfully. "Well, I do like you. I really like you," he said with a smile. "Tomorrow night. Seven," he added before he was gone.

#saltburn #farleigh start #farleigh start x reader #farleigh start x you #farleigh x reader #farleigh x you #likedovesinthewindd

[marvelsmylife]

Escaping reality

Pairing: Azriel x reader 

Plot: Azriel accidentally makes you feel bad when he jokes about the types of books you read. Nesta tears him a new one when she finds out what he said and reveals why you’re so attached to that book.

Warning: angst, mention of attempt of SA. Cassian is protective of the reader. Nesta sees her as a sister. The Valkyrie wants to kick Azriel’s ass.

a/n this one is a tiny bit darker only because it involves SA so please don't read if that triggers you

Request

Azriel never had a problem talking with females throughout his lifetime. That changed the day Cassian brought you to the house of wind.

Cassian had rescued you from four males who were about to do unspeakable things to you. Fortunately, he was walking past and heard your pleas for help. After slaughtering the males that were about the harm you, Cassian flew you to the river house, where he got Madja to do a check-up on you just to be safe.

Once he got confirmation you were physically ok, Cassian suggested that you move to the house of wind with him, Nesta, and Azriel. Even though the males who were about to assault you were dead, he wanted to make sure you were not going to be assaulted again.

Luckily, he got approval from not only Rhysand but also from Nesta and Azriel. They saw how shaken up you were and didn’t think it would be a good idea for you to be on your own. Nesta took you under her wing and became very protective of you. She saw a lot of Elain in you and had the instinct to protect you.

As for Azriel, he found himself thinking about you constantly and always asking both Cassian and Nesta if you were doing ok but never actually had a conversation with you. He would send at least one of his shadows to watch over you at all times even though you never the house. Cassian would often tease that Azriel was afraid to talk to you because had a crush. That would result in Azriel punching Cassian and storming away. 

To Cassian’s credit, he did suggest to Azriel that he should start a conversation with you about the book you were reading. Since moving in, you basically lived in the library with Nesta. You would constantly recommend books to each other and actually started a book club with the other Valkyrie and some of the priestesses. Cassian knew you would open up to Azriel if he talked to you about something you were passionate about.

Taking Cassian’s advice, Azriel made his way into the library, where he spotted you reading at a small table. Azriel bit back a smile as he watched the shadow he had sent to watch over you caress your cheek as you read out loud.

Not wanting to scare you, Azriel let out a cough to get your attention: “Mr. Shadowsinger, what brings you down here?”

“Please, call me Azriel,” Azriel replied. His heart started beating fast when you smiled at him, “I was just looking for something to read in bed. What are you reading?” 

You began to explain to Azriel the book you were reading, and Azriel jokingly said: “I thought that book was for children?” The smile that was once on your face disappeared and was replaced with a frown. Azriel realized he messed up and tried to apologize: “Y/n, I’m sorry that came out wrong.”

You tried your best to put on a happy smile before replying: “It’s ok. You don’t need to apologize. It is a children’s book,” you stood up and held the book against your chest: “I-I have to go. It was nice talking to you, Mr.Shadowsinger.”

“Y/n, wait-” Azriel watched as you disappeared and flipped over a table out of frustration.

Azriel knew he was going to face the wrath of Cassian and Nesta, but nothing could have prepared him to face the wrath of all three valkyries and his brother at once the following day. “Are you kidding me, Azriel ! ! !” Nesta snapped at Azriel and caused the shadowsinger to wince.

“I meant it as a joke, but-” All three females covered their faces out of frustration while Cassian did everything in his power to not lunge at his brother.

Nesta let out an exaggerated groan at Azriel’s explanation: “That book is important to her. She didn’t have the best home life and used to read that book as a way to escape her situation,” Azriel felt like a complete asshole at Nesta’s explanation. He wished he could turn back time and stop himself from making that joke.

“Fix the mess you made or else,” Cassian pointed towards the three females who were ready to murder him: “I’m going to let them skin you alive,” Cassian warned before leaving with the Valkyrie to train.

Azriel was already planning on apologizing, but knowing that the Valkyrie would, in fact, murder him, he decided to stop by your room later that night. 

Azriel lost his train of thought for a brief moment when you answered the door in a nightgown. He tried and failed to avoid checking you out, and he started to feel like a creep for his actions. “Mr. Shadowsinger. How can I help you?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“I wanted to apologize for the comment I made about the book you were reading the other day.” Azriel apologized: “I didn’t know how important that book was to you, and I made a horrible joke.”

Looking into his eyes, you could tell Azriel was being genuine: ”It’s ok. If anything, I overreacted to your comment. I know it’s just a book, but-”

“No buts.” Azriel cut you off: “You don’t need to explain yourself to me. That book is special to you, and I made a dumb comment. I just hope you’ll accept my apology, and we can start over.”

“Of course, I accept your apology, Azriel.” You sent him a shy smile.

Azriel was close to falling onto his knees at you using his actual name. Knowing what he was feeling towards you was more than just a crush he suddenly started picturing what his life would be like with you by his side. How he would protect you from anyone who would dare touch or even look at you in the wrong way.

Azriel was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t realize he was just staring at you until you waved your hands over his face. “Are you ok?” you asked in a concerned tone.

“Yes, sorry,” Azriel cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head: “I was just going to ask if you would like to get coffee with me tomorrow and talk about our favorite books. I promise I won’t make mean jokes about the books you love to read.”

Azriel knew it was a gamble making a joke about the very thing that got him in trouble in the first place, but to his delight, you started laughing. “I would love to, but” you poked his chest, “you have to buy me my coffee.”

“I was already planning on paying. I am a gentleman, after all,” Azriel agreed, sending you a crooked smile. You playfully rolled your eyes and said goodnight before closing your door and sleeping.

@sleepylunarwolf @paankhaleyaar

#azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel x you #acotar x reader #acotar imagine

[flkwh0re]

emo!subby!Wanda being completely innocent and not understanding things and emo!fem!reader slowly corrupting her and introducing her slowly to degrading and dumbing Wanda down when they fuck to the point that reader barely has to do anything and Wanda is completely soaked and ready for reader constantly.

Dark Twisted Fantasy

Relatively dark content, read at your own risk!

Warnings: Corruption kink, dumbing down, manipulation, reader is a perv, mentions of past non-con touching, reader is mean to wanda a little bit, Dacryphilia, added some soft aftercare too.

Word count: 1.2k

A/n: Hope this fulfills your request! It was better but I accidentally clicked notification and it didn’t save so i started stressing out.. anyway hope you enjoy!!

——————————⧗ᗢ——————————

Night after night for the past month you had been sneaking into Wanda's room as she slept. Softly groping at her body until she woke up, and once she did you'd whisper the dirties words to her.

They made her mind race at night, during training, often distracting her through the day while trying to do something important. You flooded the poor woman's mind and she had no clue why she always felt so funny when thinking about you.

She had tried to watch porn, trying to figure out how the women in the videos got release. Wanda had never been sexually actively till you, she was just never familiar with the acts.

“Hey Wands.” You quipped happily, but there were so man evil intentions laced in your words. “Hi.” She murmured shyly.

You plopped down onto your stomach on her bed, looking up at her while your arm propped up your head. “Wanna do something? Watch a movie maybe?” She hesitated for a second, then nodded her head.

You grabbed her hand and took her to your room. The simple act of your hand in hers lit her core up. She was so nervous and excited to hang out with you one on one, little did she know your intentions.

You had picked out a rather provocative movie, one of which was about two women “Here Wands.” You said as you lifted the blanket, inviting her to cuddle up with you.

The movie was a slow burn, but once it got to the spicy bits, the sure as hell were spicy. You watched out of the corner of your eye, Wanda’s body tense at certain moments. The screen displayed a woman, her hands running along her body as she moaned the name of another woman.

“You ever done anything like that?” You whispered, your hot breath teasing at her ears. Her head shook, “N-no.” She knew she did, but how could she admit that to you? Especially when you were the reason.

“You mean to tell me, you’ve never touched yourself? You’ve never came?” The deep seductive words left your lips, her cheeks turning red. The lights in the room being dim would saved her, if it weren’t for the heat rising off her body.

Her thighs rub together as she tries to gain some sort of friction. She felt so embarrassed, here she was an absolute mess in your arms while watching some silly movie you chose.

“Need my help, hm?” You implored, as you watched her. Her head eagerly nodding, begging for your help. You coaxed her onto your lap, hands grasping at the soft swell of her ass. Your lips placing soft kisses along her jawline.

Your hands tugged off her shirt, one adored with the print of her favorite band. She begged you to go with her because she only felt safe with you.

That night you had realized just how much you had her wrapped around your fingers. She clung to you, everywhere you were she was.

After that night you had slowly manipulated her into thinking she needed you, up until this moment you had taken it slow with her. You knew she was a shy woman, but something in your demeanor changed. You had to into her head.

You palmed the soft flesh of her breast, tongue slipping over her perky pink nipples.The feeling was almost too much for her, it amazed you just how sensitive she really was.

You flipped her onto her back, your pelvis aligned with her core. You ground into her as you placed bruising kisses on her lips.

You tugged her shorts off, admiring the black panties she wore. You pressed your fingers against the wet material, her body twitching at the pressure on her clit.

“So wet.” You rasped, making her shudder. “I’m all you need isn’t that right baby?” She nodded. “Good girl, you’re mine. All mine, no one else can get rid of your icky feeling. Only me, isn’t that right?” She nodded once more.

You smiled at her and slipped her panties off, your tongue poked past your lips as you gave kitten licks to her clit. You plunged your fingers into her aching cunt, making her cry out.

You lips wrapped around her clit, sucking harshly at the nub while your fingers moved in and out of her at a brutal pace. It was all too much for the girl.

“Pl-please stop, s’too much.” She begged, and you quickly rose to your feet. Your hand gripped her jaw, squeezing it tightly. “You don’t get to make the calls, I do. You got that slut?” Your harsh words hammered her ears, causing hot tears to slip down her cheeks.

You almost pitied her, but you knew deep down this is exactly what she fantasized about you. Her dark twisted fantasy.

Your lips reattached to her clit, sucking once more. Fingers snapping into her weeping cunt, her taste was better than how you pictured.

You had spent your nights thinking about her in ways that would make the devil shudder. You had watched her through the cameras you had placed around, watching her try to make herself cum. Her name would always get past her lips, with no shame though.

You watched her in the showers, while she’d brush her teeth. You’d watch her as she’d sit at her desk listening to music, drawing something in her journal.

You had seen the journal left out on her desk one evening, and out of curiosity you took it. You found a lot about her, and the things she wanted with you.

That’s what started it all, the cameras, stealing her underwear and bras, and when you’d sneak into her room at night. You’d grope every inch of her flesh, but being so gentle she’d never know.

You’d repeat the video of you touching her body, over and over. You yearned for when you finally had her under your control, fully relying on you for her needs.

“I- I think I’m gonna c-“ She whined out, you cut her off by placing a finger on her lips. “Hush, just let go for me. Cum for me.”

You quickened your pace, your fingers slammed into her. Her cried of pleasure gracing your ears like a sweet melody. The sight of her dark eyeshadow running down her cheeks blessed your eyes.

She finally had come around to her orgasm, bliss filled her body. Her legs convulsed under you as you pumped your fingers through her orgasm.

Wanda shouted your name, and you swore it was the best sound you had ever lived to hear.

“Fuck Wanda, that was good wasn’t it?” She dumbly nodded her head, too fucked out to give you a solid verbal response. You smiled at her pitiful state, cooing her into relaxation.

Once she had calmed down, you lapped her remaining juices up. Moaning at her taste.

“Let me get you a hot bath going, okay?” She tried to answer, but couldn’t quite do it. You knew you’d never get tired of her in this state.

You carried her weak body to the tub, dipping her into the warm soapy water. You cleaned up her body, and washed her hair. Massaging at her tender flesh, trying to relieve her pain.

Once you finished helping her, you dressed her in your warmest clothes. Admiring the way she looked in one of your hoodies, it almost made you have her right there again.

You knew you had to control yourself, you didn’t want to scare her away.

Masterlist

#wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda #wanda maximoff x reader smut #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximov #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda fanfic #fanfic #marvel fanfiction

[deadsetobsessions]

Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.2

[Pt.1]

Peter’s no stranger to memories that comes as nightmares. There’s something different to them, the taste of terror that’s tinged with a feeling of “that’s happened.”

Flashes of Aunt May, dying as he stood next to her while choosing the city over her? Old hat. Inky darkness surrounding MJ falling as Peter reached for her, over and over again? Been there, seen that, didn’t even get a sick scar out of it. Racing against the clock to defeat some bad guy or an unknown threat? That’s his Thursday.

But this?

This isn’t his. It’s real, Peter could tell that much. Sure, it’s wrapped up in silk hisses and heart crushing terror, but Peter could always tell whether a nightmare was a nightmare or whether it was a memory.

This was a memory. Not his. His. It’s complicated.

“Your father, papito, he-,”

Then, it’d be the ruffle of his hair, brown eyes. It reminded him of his mom. But the crease of these eyes were different. Hardened, mean. Even towards him.

“Well, he said no, but I knew what he really wanted.”

The base of Peter’s neck always crawled when he remembered that line. His spider-sense warned him that whatever he’s remembering, he would not like.

“Ey, Peter.”

“Huh?” Peter blinked, looking up from where his arms were elbow deep in wires.

“Don’cha need gloves with that?” Frank asked, munching on some jerky. They were sitting in the living room, repairing a TV and a washer Frank had somehow managed to lug back to the apartment. It’s a toss up between Frank’s network of orphans (Peter included), street rats (these things are not mutually inclusive), or his own slightly higher than average strength. Not that they needed to thrift broken things, considering Peter’s funneling money from offshore bank accounts belonging to this America’s 1%. They just made it so easy! He and Ned had been hacking into government bases in middle school back on his world. This world? Not even a challenge. Regardless, this was kind of like… Frank’s version of those fancy sensory boxes for Peter.

“Oh, no. It’s not plugged in, see?”

“How’re ya gunna know it works then?”

“Plug it in after I’m done. Turn it off and on, you know?”

Frank stared at him, then rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.

“If you burn down that portion of the house, at least we’ll be warm for a bit.”

“Thanks. Your confidence in me is astounding.”

“You talk like an old man.”

“I do not! Excuse you! If I’m old, you’re the expired knock off cup ramen in the back of a convenience store!”

“Yo, shrimpy, that’s rude, ya hear?” Frank snickered, impressed at the quip. The Alley kid turned brother stood up to plop next to Peter.

“So… you gonna go…?” Frank made a whooshing sound and held his hand in a web shooter position.

“Tonight? Prolly. Anything I should look out for?”

“You’re gunna get yourself killed, but yeah, heard the gang’s back up north.”

Peter flashed a smile, dimples coming out. “I’ll try not to. Thanks, Frank.”

“Anytime, Spidey.”

Frank, though little (to Peter), was a good friend. Then again, considering Peter saved his ass both in mask and out of it, it’s to be expected. One would think that after eight years of hiding his identity, Peter would be better at it. Then, he got punted into a different world and got made by a child.

To be fair, the circumstances all but screamed Parker Luck, so Peter’s not counting this instance.

See, the first few days of this sudden cohabitation, Peter had asked Frank to find them furniture. Both because he was getting real sick of eating on the floor and because Peter needed to fix his suit to match his much younger body. Then, once he readjusted the shrinking nanotech and the spider legs to fit him in a way that wouldn’t break him, Peter had promptly swung out of the building and went patrolling. He stuck with the wandering Frank, taking out muggers and robbers and everything in between and past that around the area where Frank is.

Looking back, Peter realized how lucky he was when he decided to go on the “helping joyride” at the beginning of the evening. His spider-sense activated way later in the night, the moment where he began seeing and sensing the cameras that kept pointing towards him. He ducked and dodged out of the way, and eventually, the feeling left. Somebody was watching. And he doesn’t know where they stood on the moral side of things.

Anyways, it happened after three weeks and a half of going out and just… settling into life in Gotham. He had already been struggling to find a way home, scouring the libraries around Gotham on any subject that would aid in his multiversal travel. Peter would like to know which emo kid named this city.

Eventually, Parker Luck decided to strike once more.

“Get back, freak!” The lady brandished a wicked knife.

Talk about deja vu.

“Oh no! Knives! My greatest weakness!” Spider-Man yelled, sticking to the shadowed windows as he let his voice echo in the alley. Gotham had a lot of nice hiding places. Spider-man dropped down on her head like a bat out of hell and webbed the knife out of her hands. He webbed the mugger up onto the alleyway above normal reach, and told the man to call the police.

Frank screamed, just as Spider-man wrapped it up, loud enough to reach his enhanced hearing.

“Wait-!” The man tried to stop him, but Peter, small, trained, and having readjusted his reach, slipped away.

“What’s your name?!” The guy he saved yelled at his back.

Spider-man, distracted, yelled back, “SPIDEY!”

He shot webs upwards and used them to slingshot his way towards where Frank was. And… car! Peter used his webs to swing up, up, and let himself fall to gain momentum. At the last moment, Peter shot a web to the top of the car and pulled himself to it.

Shit, shit, shit. He’s stupidly attached to the kid, and he was stupid enough to let Frank go out into Gotham looking both well-fed and well clothed.

The world slowed as he locked eyes with a terrified Frank, who was getting dragged into a car.

The world narrowed to speed and Spider-Man landed on top of the car roof, sweeping his leg out and thankfully remembering his much shorter reach. His foot collided with the kidnapper’s face with the equivalent force of a grown up, slightly annoyed Peter Parker who’s letting his strength go a bit unchecked. Basically, they went flying, blood spewing out of the undoubtedly broken nose Spider-Man had just given them.

Standing on business, the shorter webster promptly flipped down wards as he all but glued the would-be kidnapper to the curb.

“You alright?”

“You’re- You’re that new mask.” Frank whispered, scuttling away from the car where he’d been dropped.

“Yeah, man. You okay?” His voice modulator came in clutch.

“Fuck. Fuck, I gotta-” Frank stumbled. The kid looked like he was one bad break away from snapping. Peter hated it when kids got that terrified look on their faces, it reminded him of himself, helpless as Ben bled out because they should never have to fear something that much.

Something’s wrong, though. As much as Peter wished otherwise, Frank was a Gotham bred and true alley kid, through and through. These kids don’t spook easily. Peter already stopped a couple of kidnappings and at least two of the kids had yelled at him to stay out of the way before unloading a rain of nut kicks on their kidnappers that left Peter wincing for days in sympathy. Frank being this spooked? Something’s going on.

“Woah, easy there, I’m not gonna hurt you,”

Frank shot him a half hysterical, half condescending look. Yeah, that’s more like it.

“Ob-obviously. I have to go before more of them comes,” Frank muttered.

“More of them? You know what they want?”

Frank stared at him, looking up and down at his blue, red, and gold ensemble.

“I can help,” Peter promised.

“What’re your thoughts on metas?”

Suspicious.

“Uh, they’re fine? Depends on the person, why?”

Frank sighed. The skinny teenager, barely 14, tugged at his hair. “They’re traffickers. Meta kids, mostly, so the Bats don’t do nothing. I- uh, I got caught.” He held up a thin wrist, showing Peter his new accessorie, a think metal bracelet that was beeping red.

Peter cursed in his head. Fuck, of course he’d stumble into a-

“Caught? You’re a meta?”

Frank nodded. “Strength. This is an inhibitor, illegal kind, you know?”

Well, that explained how he got all of those furniture without struggle.

“Right. Hey, don’t stress, kid, I’m a meta too.”

Frank blinked.

“What?”

Peter walked up the side of the car and did jazz hands.

“You’re a meta?! But- but you’re a mask operating in Gotham!”

“Yeah…? Is that weird?”

Before Frank could reply, Peter’s sense screamed and Spider-Man shoved Frank away from the spray of bullets.

“Move, Frank!”

Peter flipped away, vaguely aware of Frank’s gaping realization. He took down the shooters in quick succession, stopping the speeding car with his bare hands and some webs.

“Shooters, no shooting!” He yelled, liberally applying force he tended to keep under wraps. Frank was like a brother to him, and there is no universe where Peter Parker would hold back when his family was in danger.

When he got back to Frank, who had oddly stayed instead of running, Peter found out why the kid stayed.

“Peter?!” Frank hissed lowly, looking more pissed off than terrified. “Are you fucking insane?! Why are you running ‘round as a mask?!”

“Shhh!” Shit, he got made. “Come on, get back to the apartment and we can talk there. I’ll get rid of this-”

Peter casually snapped the bracelet in half, tearing the tracker out, and tucked it away to study later.

“Fuckin’- shit, fine, but you’re explaining everything, motherfucker!”

They split, Peter guessing correctly that he was in another lecture of a lifetime.

——

“Your vigilante name is Spiderman?”

“Hey, I can hear you say it without the hyphen! There’s a hyphen in there!”

“You’re not a man! You’re a twerp!”

“I’ll show you twerp, you-”

Five minutes of tussling later, in which Peter did not try to bite Frank’s arm off, thank you very much, Frank leaned back on the couch.

“Besides. People in the streets are calling you Spidey, anyways.”

“Spidey?”

“Some dude you saved from a mugging said you told him.”

Peter slammed his head on the floor where he was laying face down.

“Ughhhh.”

——

“He could have been great. I saw his potential.”

Anger. But he shouldn’t be afraid. The woman loved him.

“Hey, Peter. You’re up here again.”

“Hi.” Peter stayed curled up. His mind had refused him sleep for the last three nights, causing dark circles to appear underneath his eyes. The memories of what he assumed to be this world’s Peter was merging with his. What he’d seen so far did not fill him with confidence of a happy childhood. Flashes of wielding weapons, the sterile smell of a metal dissection table, and hundreds and hundreds of spiders crawling over him, getting startled into biting down. Plus, the stress of tracking down the meta trafficking circles in Gotham was no joke. He doesn’t know Gotham nearly as well as he knew New York, and he had to be extra careful running around and trying to catch every bit of the circle before making any moves. Frank was helping with his network of homeless Meta kids, but the traffickers were everywhere except for Crime Alley.

He should be dead. They sold his body to an organ harvester who dumped his venom filled corpse on the side of Gotham. At least he didn’t have to worry about killing his alternate version.

“Everything all right?” Red Robin clambered down to sit next to him, cowl hiding the concerned scrunch of his brow. He’s never seen Peter like this.

Peter grumbled, staring down at another alleyway. He knows his alternate died. His shit excuse for another sold his body to an organ harvester, when he seized on the operating table, who dumped his venom filled corpse on the side of Gotham. At least he didn’t have to worry about killing his alternate version. He does, however, have to worry about missing vital organs.

“I… remembered something.” Peter remembered a lot of things. And pretty much none of them were good. This Peter suffered a lot in his short life.

Red Robin nodded. The issue of Peter’s spotty memories had come up in their discussions over the past month.

“Ah. Something unpleasant?”

Peter thought back to the voice who, despite all of the other, highly traumatic memories, haunted his brain like nothing else.

“He didn’t live up to it. He refused to kill. So I made the decision for him.”

“Yeah. Not for me, but unpleasant that I know about it.”

“Yeah, I get that. You wanna talk about it?” Peter hid a small smile. Even though Red Robin kept his tone light, the concern still bled through. Warm. It made Peter feel warm. Even if it appeared that the Bats don’t really care about the trafficked meta kids… maybe Red Robin would come save normal kid Peter if he got kidnapped. A backup plan to consider. For now…

“Sure,” he said. Red Robin waited patiently.

“I think, I remember someone. Maybe, maybe my…” Peter grimaced. “My mom? She… told me something. And uh, I think I’maproductofrape.”

“Oh,” Red Robin said, so awkwardly that Peter had to crack a small smile despite the gravity of the topic. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Me too. Not myself, but for…” Peter waved a hand. “You know.”

“Yeah.”

“She wasn’t a good person,” Peter whispered and hated how he missed the browns of her eyes- her middle name was Marie, and god, Peter wished he hadn’t known that because he gets why her eyes reminded him so much of his own mother- and she besmirched everything Mary Parker stood for.

“You have our combined potential, Peter. Make sure not to be like him too much and live up to it, papito.”

“It’s okay, to love her even if she hurt other people,” Red Robin said, gently ruffling his greasy hair. Peter’s spidey-sense tingled and he ducked away. Red Robin withdrew his hand. “Because you can’t really help that. Trust me, I’ve tried. You just have to make sure they don’t get the chance to do what they did again.”

Cold, cold voices and his voice gave out from screaming. “You really are your father’s son. Never being able to do what’s necessary.”

And Peter wondered what happened to Red Robin and who hurt him. Peter would just like to talk. Red Robin reminded him of himself, way back when being Spider-Man meant finding out Harry became Green Goblin. Pained. Tired.

“Yeah,” Peter agreed. But that’s not really a problem, considering the last thing the organ harvester said before dumping him in an alley. “She’s dead in a ditch in Siberia or something. I’m not really worried she’ll do it again.”

“Uh.”

“It’s cool,”

“Right. Have you… remembered your dad?”

“Yeah. He’s in Gotham,” Peter unfurled a little.

“You want help tracking him down? I’m good at that kind of thing.”

Peter glanced at Red Robin. “I think you just admitted to being a stalker.”

“Vigilante,” Red Robin shrugged, like it explained everything. And yeah, it kind of did. Peter snorted.

“Nah, it’s okay. I don’t want to meet him anyways.”

“Why not?”

“He doesn’t know about me,” Peter ticked off his fingers. “I’m a literal walking, talking, breathing reminder of his trauma. And I don’t need a dad.”

Red Robin looked at him silently. Peter doesn’t think about it.

He never wanted to see his parents suffer. An alternate version of his dad, hurt so irrevocably by an alternate version of his mom?

Peter hated that this Catalina dirtied his mother’s name, and went against the most fundamental parts of what the spider symbol was meant for. And considering he’s been doing this longer than her, he had first dibs on defining it. He’ll look after his dad, as long as he’s stuck in Gotham. It’s only right.

“His name? Oh, my son, it’s Richard Grayson.”

——

Peter, who Trusts his instincts: no head rubs?? awwwww

Tim, who’s been trying to get a dna sample for the last month: how does he keep evading me?? He must be a genius or a spy or- *spirals down the conspiracy board*

——

Tim: I’ve connected the dots!

Peter: you’ve connected jack shit

——

Listen, the moment I learned Catalina Flores’ middle name, the pieces clicked, okay? Like legos. It’s like, former FBI agent in this one and former CIA agent in Peter’s home universe? Wow. Middle name Marie? Mary Parker? Incredible. Spider themes run in the blood apparently?? They both have brown eyes!! Trying to do good with no qualms about murder!! (I’m assuming since Mary Parker was SHIELD and I don’t think SHIELD cared much for the sanctity of human life if it threatened the country or something)

#tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon #Peter Parker #I think you know who his mom is #nightwing #batman #red robin #Frank the Crime Alley kid #Tim Drake #Tw: mentions of torture #Tw: human experimentation #bruce wayne #dick Grayson #gotham #Tw: mentions of human trafficking #Catalina Marie Flores #tarantula #Spider in Gotham AU

[cherryredstars]

so I seen you 1k prompt ! And my eye gyat (😭 I need help ) something’s And I see you have a boss reader and I was just thinking . What about a boss FM reader who’s is dominant like 😏 think about it! and Miguel is like a civilian that is married to reader because of his love not because Of this look, his built body, no it how he laugh his, his eyes, the way he caring, and his ass personality 🤭..

so what about a sub/dom Miguel , like your game , and your assistant fic 😌☝️ can you mix these two pls !!

1k Prompts and Company Matters Extra

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Handjobs, Blowjobs, Unintended Edging/Orgasm Denial, Bondage, Praise

Summary: Appreciate your employees! 

A/N: Subby Migs!!! Welcome back, dear!!!

Word Count: 1.7K (Unedited)

Part 1. Part 1.5, Part 2

You needed a break. 

The paper work wasn’t helping your budding headache, and you were in desperate need of some coffee. As if he knew of your distress, Miguel knocks on your door. He slips in, a coffee cup in his hand. It makes your shoulders relax in relief, watching him as he smiles at you and places the coffee on your desk. 

“My savior,” You mutter while taking the coffee and sipping it. Just how you like it. 

He shrugs, looking at the ground as he chuckles with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “It’s nothing. Just thought you’d need a little pick me up.”

You hum around the edge of your cup, eyes scanning Miguel. He’s wearing a grey button up that stretches over his wide torso, a loose charcoal black tie to match his slacks. You cross your legs as you pull the cup away, licking at your bottom lip. With your keen eyes, you can see how Miguel’s eyes track the movement, eyes slightly darkening before he blinks it away. He stutters a bit as he goes to excuse himself, turning around and giving you a perfect view of his ass. The way he looks right now has to be considered extremely unprofessional.

“Miguel,” You call out, standing up from your desk. Miguel turns around quickly, looking eager to meet your demands. “Come take a seat.”

You have no chairs in your office besides your own. Made it that way to make snobby businessmen uncomfortable when they come to your office to pester you. You can see Miguel’s obvious confusion on where he’s supposed to sit. His lips part in realization when you pull your large leather chair back slightly, and he walks over silently. He walks past you, watching you the whole time as he moves to sit. His eyes don’t leave you even as your hand pushes at the center of his chest, making him fall into the chair.

“How about you? Where will you sit?” He whispers out, nervous at being so close to you. He can still feel your hand at his chest. 

You smile down at him, an almost predatory one. How sweet, still wanting to take care of you. “Right here.”

Miguel’s breath catches in his throat when you throw your leg over his thighs, caging him in. You’re hovering over his lap, and you’re thankful that you decided to wear your flared slacks instead of your pencil skirt. Your arm is thrown lazily over Miguel’s shoulder, your other hand toying with his loose tie. 

Miguel swallows loudly as he stares at you, “What are you doing?”

“Y’know, I appreciate you so much, Miguel.” You ignore, eyes watching the way his tie unravels with a light tug. “You’re so sweet to me. Such a good boy for me.”

Miguel lets out a shuddering breath, squirming under you as he grips the chair’s arms tightly. His knuckles are blinding white. “I-it’s my job.”

You let out an airy giggle that makes his brain fuzzy. His eyes are lidded and hazy as he watches your finger trail down his chest, slowly starting to undo a few buttons. Your hands burn against his exposed chest, and you can feel his rapid heart beat against your fingers. You smirk, leaning in and mouthing at his jawline. It makes Miguel gasp out, hands twitching to grab onto you. Your hands continue to rub at his chest as your mouth comes to his ear. 

You give the lobe a small nip, breath hot against the shell of it, “Let me show you how much I appreciate you.”

You can feel Miguel’s thighs twitch under you, pushing away from him. He almost whines as you get up, but it dies when you slowly part his legs and sink to the ground. You try to not laugh when he whimpers out an ‘oh shit’ as he watches you. Your hands rub at his clothed thighs, moving up until they’re at his belt. They slowly start to undo it, pulling the black leather out of his belt loops as you look up at him. 

“Would you like that?” You ask, basically cooing at him. He nods quickly muttering out a breathy ‘yes’. Good boy. 

You reward him by undoing his zipper, pride coursing through your veins when he instantly lifts his hips so you can pull them down. As you slip  them down to his thighs, your eyes zero in on the large bulge in his briefs. He whines when he finds you staring at it so intensely, his cheeks burning. Your hand ghosts over it, and he can feel your nails scraping against him gently. He curses softly when he bucks his hips into your hand, breathing in deeply. 

Your hand slips into his underwear, and he groans when your warm hand wraps around him. You pull him out gently, pumping him in an agonizingly slow pace. He cries out when your thumb brushes over his slit and you snap your face up to him. You coo at him, letting him go and standing up again. He whimpers at you as you let go of him, an apology is at the tip of his tongue. However, he quiets when you take the tie from around his neck. 

“Be a good boy and open your mouth for me.” You say sweetly, and he blinks up at you as he slowly relaxes his jaw. 

You hum, rewarding him with a slow caress to his cheek. He melts into the touch, but his eyes instantly widen as you shove the tie in between his parted lips and start tying it around his head. He speaks around it, his talk muffled. 

You bring a finger to your lips, shushing him gently. “Gotta be quiet, baby. Never know when someone might come up here.”

He nods in understanding, watching as you pry his hands away from the arm rests. You grab his belt, starting to tie his wrists together. “And this… is just for fun.”

Once the belt is secured, you sink back down to your knees again. He slumps in the chair, manspreading so you can sit comfortably between his legs. Your hand slowly begins to pump him again, and you can hear him sigh against his tie. You give him slow pumps, occasionally massaging under his mushroom head. It makes him whine and buck, eyes fluttering from the pleasure as he watches you play with him. You continue to praise him as you work him, muttering about how pretty he looks. 

Once you begin to tire of playing with him, you suck his tip into your mouth. It makes him moan out, tugging at his restraints. His hands itch to tangle in your hair as you bob your head around him. You take more and more of him into your mouth, pausing when he hits the back of your throat. You hollow your cheeks and try to take more of him in, and he moans loudly while bucking his hips. It makes you gag around him, and you push on his abdomen warningly. He whines apologies through the tie. They die down as his head rolls back, a dragged groan filling the room as you shake your head slightly. His eyes roll to the back of his head, nails leaving crescents into his palms as you move your head up and down with vigor. 

You can feel him twitch in your mouth, and you smirk from around him. Miguel’s whole body tenses in preparation of the orgasm that’s about to wash over him, babbling nonsense around his gag. You move faster, closing your eyes and letting him hit the back of your throat repeatedly. Miguel’s hand clenches and unclenches, hips lifting off of the chair as h-

Knock, knock.

Both you and Miguel freeze. The knocking continues once again, and the both of you look at each other. Miguel has a wide eyed and pleading look in his eyes. Is he begging you to stop or continue? You slowly pull off of Miguel as the person on the other side of the door calls your name, your thumb wiping away the spit from the side of your mouth. Miguel lets out a muffled whine, a pained look in his eyes as his poor cock aches with his built up release. You quickly throw your hand over his mouth to muffle him further, glaring at him as you hold a finger to your mouth. 

Both of you stay silent, until the person on the other side curses, mumbling something about forgetting a file at their desk. The sound of footsteps retreating meet your ears, and the two of you relax as it becomes quiet again. Miguel’s chest is heaving, brows furrowed. He whines again when you pull your hand away from his mouth. His orgasm has completely died down, and he bucks his hips up in hopes to lure you back in. 

Hope jumps in his chest when your hands reach down, but it quickly dies as you begin to undo his belt. His eyes are desperate as he mumbles ‘please’ around the tie and shakes his head. You coo at him, massaging his wrists before tucking him back into his pants and underwear before zipping him up. You button up his shirt again, removing the tie around his mouth last. 

“I know, I know. But break time is over. You gotta get back to your desk before that person comes back.” You shush as he begins to beg you to finish what you started. You caress his cheek lovingly, taking the wet tie and stuffing it into his pant pocket. He whines again, but nods his head in understanding as you ease him up from the chair. You give his cheek a small peck, before he’s rounding your desk and walking towards the door. 

You sit back in your chair, sighing as you pick up a pen and grab a piece of paper. Miguel readjusts his clothing as he opens the door, making sure he looks appropriate. 

“Miguel.” 

He turns quickly, gulping and half-hoping you call him back. But instead, you’re leaning against your desk with your coffee cup in your hand. “Be a doll and warm up my coffee.”

Miguel takes a deep breath, his grip on the doorknob tightening. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

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[venusacrossthestars]

a choice I can live with

Summary: you thought that after that night in Monaco you would never see Carlos Sainz again. but what do they say? when one door closes another door opens.

Pairing- Carlos Sainz x fem!reader

WC-10,182

warnings- swearing, making out, it gets a little hot and heavy towards the end, angst, Lando is more of an ass than he was in part one, reader is in her feels, the word slut is used.

this is a part 2 to 'a choice I don't want to make' read it HERE before reading this part

F1 masterlist

December 2021

You didn't like this foreign feeling that was settled in your stomach. All you were trying to do was pick out a movie while your popcorn cooled down, so why did it all feel so wrong? Sighing, you turned off the TV and placed the remote on the coffee table. It was Lando’s turn to pick the movie. The thought washed over you like a tidal wave. Suddenly the aspect of having a movie night no longer sounded appealing. Picking up the popcorn bowl from the coffee table, you walked over to the trash can and threw away the popcorn. Just like 15 years of friendship.

You plopped back down on your couch, sinking into the cushions. The last time you had seen Lando had been that night in Monaco; the last time you had any contact with him was when you sent him that text the following morning. That was in May. You knew that he saw your message, the taunting little ‘read’ underneath had only made you feel worse. As if it wasn’t the consequences of your own actions.

The past 6 and a half months had been miserable. Every time you had exciting news you found yourself thinking- ‘I can’t wait to tell Lando!’ only to remember that you couldn’t. You could barely talk to your own mother without feeling more guilt over the situation. You could feel her disappointment through the phone. As your mother, she was on your side, she told you as much, but it wasn’t without a disappointed sigh. 

You had other friends, you had a world that didn’t revolve around your now ex-best friend but sometimes it didn’t feel like it. However, the couple of times that you had braved stalking Lando’s socials you couldn’t help but feel as if he never needed you. Maybe that was the truth. 

You could face Lando’s socials, and you could manage the tweets and comments you saw about him. But you couldn’t bring yourself to check Carlos’s. Maybe it was the fear of seeing that he moved on. Maybe it was that he seemed perfectly fine. That was something you were comfortable staying in the dark with. 

A knock on the door startles you out of your pitiful self-deprecating spiral. You silently groan, it was too late to be dealing with people. Maybe it was one of your neighbor's friends who got the numbers mixed up and if you stayed silent they would realize. The universe must really have it out for you because the knocking continued, louder and more insistent than before. Getting up, you shuffled to the door taking a quick peek through the peephole. The face on the other end had you quickly undoing the chain and unlocking the deadbolt. 

“Carlos?” 

“Hi.” Is the only thing that Carlos says. 

You rub your eyes, making sure that he wasn’t an illusion, that you haven’t gone mad in these past months. When you bring your hands away from your eyes and re-open them, Carlos is still there standing in front of you with a bouquet of white tulips.

Carlos breaks the silence, “These are for you,” he holds out the bouquet, “I was told that white tulips represent an apology and forgiveness.” 

“Forgiveness?” You parrot back, not taking the flowers. Why is giving you flowers that represent an apology and forgiveness? “What are you apologizing for?” 

Carlos rocks back and forth on his heels, ignoring your question, “Can I come in?” 

You move away from the door frame and hold the door wider allowing for Carlos to enter. Embarrassment washes over you as you come to the realization that this is the first time Carlos has been in your flat, and while it didn’t look like a total disaster, you certainly wish it was cleaner. 

“What are you apologizing for?” You ask again. 

Carlos spins to face you, “Do you have a vase for these?” 

“Carlos,” you try again, “what are you doing here?”

Carlos wanders towards your kitchen, “Like I said, I am here to apologize.” He waves the flowers around. 

“What are you apologizing for?” 

“All of it. For letting Lando talk to you like that. For letting you leave with him. For letting you walk away that night on the roof. For not responding back to your text. I’m mostly sorry for how long it took me to come see you, to come talk to you.” 

“Carlos, you don’t need to apologize. For any of it.” 

“It takes two to tango.” He points out.

“It’s been 6 and a half months Carlos, you should move on.”

“Have you?”

That simple question was all it took for you to break. Honestly, you should have been able to move on. You should’ve been able to leave this whole situation back in Monaco. So why were your feelings for Carlos just as strong as they were back then? Even after your attempt to cut him out of your life he still stood here in your flat with a bouquet of flowers, apologizing for not coming to you sooner. 

“I haven’t,” you whisper, not trusting your voice.

Carlos sets the flowers down on the counter and moves in front of you. You avert your gaze to the ground, knowing that if you looked him in the eyes there would be no stopping the tears. 

Carlos doesn’t let you. His hand gently moves your chin so that you are looking him directly in the eyes. He doesn’t say anything about your tears, he only moves to wipe them away and unlike that night in Monaco, you let him. His hands are still surprisingly soft, just like that night the two of you kissed. 

He moves his hands away and you nearly sob at the loss of contact but before you can say anything Carlos is pulling you into his chest. His arms wrap around your middle, hands sprawled out across your back. It takes you a second to register what is happening but once you do you are quick to mirror his motions. 

You bury your head into his chest and close your eyes. There is something about being wrapped in Carlos’s arms that makes you feel like everything is going to be okay. You take in a shaky breath. You haven’t been this happy to see someone in a long time and that simple thought is what causes you to break out in sobs. 

Carlos tries to pull away, presumingly to ask you if everything is okay, but you are quick to pull him back into your embrace. “Just hold me. Please.” You manage out between sobs. 

“As you wish.” 

You don’t know how long you stand in the middle of your kitchen in Carlos’s arms, and frankly, you don’t care. The soothing circles Carlos rubs on your back and the gentle swaying of both your bodies is enough to make you calm down. 

“Do you want to sit down?” Carlos pulls away, hands still holding your arms. 

You nod, leading him into your living room, and you sink into your couch. Carlos sits directly next to you, close enough to where both of your thighs rest against each other. “I’m sorry,” you begin, “I didn’t mean to get snot all over your shirt.” 

“No need to apologize.” 

“I’m sorry for more than that. I’m sorry too Carlos, for all of it. I never meant for any of this to happen.” 

“Stop,” Carlos puts his hand up and you close your mouth. “If anyone deserves an apology it’s you. That night I was hurt, I didn’t stop to think what it was like in your shoes. I'll never know what it is like to have my supposed ‘best friend’ tell me to pick between two important people in my life. I've never been in that position.” 

“Carlos,” you begin but he stops you again. 

“I spoke to Lando the next day, right after you texted me. I was furious with him. How could someone call their best friend those things? How could he, the same man who told me that he wanted me to stay away from you because he wanted to protect you, flip a switch that easily? He showed me the message you sent and I felt my heart break more. Asking him to put all the blame on you? Asking him to not blame me when we were both responsible? Pinning all the blame on yourself just so that he and I could still be friends?” 

You knew that Lando had read your message but knowing that he had shown Carlos that same day made his lack of response hurt ten times more. “You talked to him? He showed you the message?” 

Carlos nods his head. “I should say I yelled at him that morning rather than talked. We’ve spoken a couple times since then but I can tell he is still furious.” 

You figured, Lando wasn’t one to let go of grudges easily. “I can’t help but miss him, even with what he said to me.” 

“And that’s okay,” Carlos comforts you, “he is -was- your best friend for a long time. I wouldn’t expect you not to miss him.” 

“This is the first winter break we’ve been apart since we met. I don’t know what to do.” You admit to Carlos.

Carlos rests a hand on your thigh, rubbing small circles across the material of your sweatpants. And you look at him with tears in your eyes. You are so sick of crying over this whole situation, you've wasted enough tears. 

“I don’t know what kind of traditions the two of you have but if you'd like, I was thinking we could make our own?” Carlos questions. You look at him with wide eyes and he continues, “I don’t want to replace him or those good memories but I think making our own would be fun.” 

“I would love that Carlos.” you smile at him. “There is one thing though. If this,” you point back and forth at the both of you, “is going to be a serious relationship, we need to take it slow.” 

“How slow is slow?” 

“Why? Do you not want to take things slow?” You panic internally. Did he change his mind? 

Does he not want to take things slow? You know that his life is fast-paced so does slow just not work for him?

“No, no, no,” he hurries out sensing your panic, “Slow is fine, I’d wait a lifetime if you asked mi amor. I’m just asking because I want to kiss you.” 

“Oh.”

“Can I kiss you Hermosa?” Carlos asks in a whisper. 

You nod and Carlos closes the gap between the two of you. Unlike the last time the two of you shared a kiss this one was slower, sweeter but somehow more passionate. With closed eyes, you relished the feeling of his lips on yours even more so because you thought you would never experience this feeling again. 

Carlos pulls away after a moment and you open your eyes and glance at his swollen lips, a slight you’ll never get sick of. Overcome with emotion you launch yourself onto Carlos, pushing him on his back into the cushions of your couch. 

Shock is written all over his face, “Are you okay?” 

You shake your head, not trusting your voice and Carlos pulls you into his chest. Carlos’s hand runs over your head and after a moment of savoring the comforting gesture you speak up, 

“Thank you for coming to see me. I really thought I’d never see you again.” 

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” 

January 2022

Carlos wasn’t lying when he said that you wouldn't be able to get rid of him easily. The man was stuck on you like a popsicle on a hot summer day, not that you were complaining.

New Year’s came and went and Carlos insisted that he spend it with you. You argued that you weren’t doing anything fun, that you would probably be sleeping while everyone else was out ringing in the new year, and that he should go out and spend it with his friends. Carlos had refused, stating he rather be somewhere quiet celebrating with you. So the two of you had rang in the New Year together in your flat with a cheap bottle of champagne and poppers you set off on your balcony. 

It was only a few days later that, as you were making dinner, you got a call from Carlos. 

“Are you free this weekend?” Carlos asked as soon as you accepted the call. 

“Well, hello to you too Carlos,” you chuckle at his enthusiasm. 

“Hello mi amor, how are you this fine afternoon.” 

“I am spectacular, and how are you, Mr. Sainz?” You can’t help but break out in a smile, something you seem to do whenever you hear from Carlos.

“Good, however, I would be even better if you answered my question. Are you free this weekend?” 

“I think so, why?” 

“I want to take you out.” 

“Like on a date?” 

“Yes, like a date. I would be a bad boyfriend if I didn’t take my love on dates, wouldn’t I?” 

“Oh, I didn’t know we were officially boyfriend/girlfriend.” You tease, Carlos knew fully well how you felt about him. 

“Don’t play around with me.” 

“What were you thinking?” 

“I was thinking you’d come over to my place and I’d cook for you.” 

“Oh, I would love that but Carlos you don’t live in London.” It amuses you to have to point out that simple fact. 

“I know, that’s why I asked if you were free the entire weekend. I was going to fly you out to Madrid.” 

You freeze at his nonchalant attitude, to him this was a small little gesture and you can tell that he thinks nothing of it. You, on the other hand, were thinking way too much of it. 

“Carlos, I can't come to Madrid. I don’t have the money for it right now.” You say defeatedly, as much as you wanted to see Carlos you couldn't drop that type of money on a flight. 

“I think you missed the part where I said I would fly you out. You wouldn’t be paying for anything.” 

“Carlos, this isn’t how I want this relationship to be. I won’t be seen as a sugar baby.” You tell him seriously and all you can hear is him laughing over the phone. 

“Mi amor, you are not a sugar baby. You are my girlfriend. My girlfriend who I want to see and spend time with so desperately that I am offering her, as her boyfriend, to fly her to my home so she can spend time with me- her boyfriend.” 

You bite the skin around your nails carefully weighing your options. You want to see Carlos but on the other hand, you were worried. What if someone spots you? What if someone outed your relationship? You still wanted to take things slow and this was all moving a little fast for you. 

You voice your worries to Carlos and you hear him sigh over the phone, “You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry mi amor.” 

“No, I’m sorry. I should be jumping at this opportunity. You want to spend time with me and here I am acting like a brat. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

“Nothing is wrong with you. I need to respect your wishes. You have no need to apologize.” 

“I still feel bad.” 

“Don’t. There will be other opportunities.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Positive, do not worry about it. Listen I have to go, I will call you later okay?” 

“I’ll be waiting.” The two of you exchange quick goodbyes and you are then left alone with your thoughts. Saying yes wouldn’t have killed you, in fact, you should’ve said yes. So what if someone saw you and Carlos? Since when did you care what the rest of the world thought of you? 

You drop your head on the kitchen counter, lightly banging it muttering a quiet ‘stupid, stupid, stupid.’ Oh well, there was nothing you could do about it now. 

Your Friday nights always play out the same way. You get home from work, take a quick shower, put on a pair of sweatpants (you’re pretty sure these were a pair of Lando’s from years ago) and a baggy top, order something, and watch a crappy movie.

You have only finished step 3 of your routine, about to start step 4 when there is a knock at your door. You weren’t expecting anyone other than the delivery man but you hadn’t even placed your order yet, so if it was the Chinese place already you really needed to change up your diet. 

When you open your door you aren’t greeted by the greasy teenager who typically delivers your food, instead, you are greeted with a comfy-looking Carlos who has a backpack in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other. 

“Carlos, what are you doing here?” 

“Are you not happy to see me?” He questions with a slight pout. 

“Of course, I’m happy to see you,” you reach across the threshold to grab his wrist and pull him into your flat, “I’m just surprised to see you here.” 

“I’m here to spend the weekend with my girlfriend and cook her dinner,” he proudly states, holding up the bag of groceries. 

You could melt into a puddle right there and then. “Carlos, you didn’t have to come all the way here.” 

A look of panic is now written all over Carlos’s face. “I’m an idiot.” You raise an eyebrow at his admission and gesture for him to spit the rest out. “You said you wanted to take things slow and here I am showing up without notice.” 

You wave your hands frantically, “You are not an idiot. I’m happy you’re here. Ever since I turned down your offer I’ve been thinking that maybe we don’t have to take things slow.” 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to pressure you into anything.” 

“I am more than sure. I am sick of overthinking. Who cares what everyone else thinks of me?” 

Carlos’s look of panic is replaced by the biggest grin you have ever seen. He drops his backpack and groceries, his hands aren’t empty for long because the next thing you know you are being lifted in his arms and spun around. 

“Carlos!” you squeal out, not expecting to be picked up. 

Carlos sets you down gently and cups your face in his hands, you are then attacked by an onslaught of kisses. He kisses your cheeks, your lips, nose, and forehead. No part of your face is left untouched by his lips. 

You giggle at the sensation, “Carlos, Carlos,” you try to get his attention but he seems too lost in his own world. “Okay. Okay. Calm down, what has gotten into you?” 

“I’m just happy. Is that a crime?” 

You tap your chin in mock ponderance, “I suppose not.” 

Carlos closes the gap once more but this time instead of an onslaught of kisses he locks your lips with his in one long kiss. His hands haven’t moved from their spots on your cheeks this entire time. You can’t help yourself from grinning into the kiss, never in your wildest dreams would you have imagined this. 

Carlos pulls away and when he sees the smile that graces your face can’t help but ask, “What has gotten into you?” 

You giggle at his question and your reply is full of snark, “I’m just happy. Is that a crime?” 

It is Carlos’s turn to break into a fit of giggles and you wish that you could listen to that sound forever. “Okay. Okay.” You try to break the laughing spell that has fallen between the both of you. “What’s in the bag?” 

Carlos picks up the bag full of groceries and makes his way to the kitchen, “I’m glad you asked, it's all the ingredients I need to make my pancakes.” 

“You were serious about cooking for me?” 

“Of course I was, I want to spoil my girlfriend.” 

“I will gladly be spoiled. Do you want any help?” 

“No, you just sit and find a movie or a show to watch.” 

“I got the only show I need right in front of me.” You wink. 

Carlos laughs at your comment but doesn’t say anything else, too focused on making his pancakes. You have to help him a couple of times when he realizes he doesn’t exactly know the layout of where you keep all your mixing bowls, pans, and spatulas, amongst other things. But once he has all his materials you can almost see the switch flip to Chef Carlos. And while it is a bit shameful to admit, the sight does turn you on slightly. The way Carlos’s tongue slightly sticks out of his mouth in concentration. The way his arm flexes as he mixes the batter. Who would have thought that cooking would be so hot? Not you, that’s for sure. 

Carlos spares a few glances in your direction and every time you need to make sure you aren’t drooling all over your counter. Your time of ogling Carlos is cut short when he slides the plate of pancakes in front of you. 

“Any syrup or butter?” He asks. 

You shake your head, “No, I want to experience the pancakes without any interference.” You pick up your fork and knife and cut right into them. Carlos does nothing but watch as you bring a piece up to your mouth and take a bit. 

“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding about knowing a pancake recipe,” you say with a full mouth. 

“Good?” 

“Good? Better than good, these are delicious,” you practically moan out. 

“Almost as delicious as the chef,” Carlos says with a smirk. His comment has you choking on the rest of your pancake. Carlos is quick to rush to your side, gently smacking your back. 

You hold up your hands signaling for him to stop, “I’m okay, I’m okay.” You take a sip of water, helping aid the rest of the pancake down. “You need to make these for me again. I don’t think I can ever go back to eating a normal pancake ever again. Not after tasting this slice of heaven.” 

“You’ll never have to eat a sad pancake ever again as long as I’m around.” 

“I want you around as long as you can stand me,” you tell Carlos truthfully. 

“Good, because I never want to be without you.” 

You can’t help but think the same, and it isn’t because of the pancakes.

February 2022

It’s a week before Valentine's Day when you answer a FaceTime call from Carlos. 

“Did you see the car launch?” He asks. 

You have given up trying to get him to say hello every time you answered the phone, he was always too eager to talk to you. 

“I did. Looks beautiful, hopefully that corresponds to speed.” 

“We can only hope. I didn’t call to talk about the car.” 

“Well, you could’ve fooled me.” 

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?” 

“I am funny, you know this.” 

Carlos ignores your quip and instead asks, “Valentine’s Day, do you feel okay going out?” 

Ever since that night when Carlos showed up at your flat unannounced, he has been trying to communicate better. The two of you had your little inside dates- movie nights, cooking, board games, anything the two of you could do at home or over the phone you two have done. You had only gone out on a date once and that was over as quick as it started. Some fan spotted him and it was only a matter of time before his location was leaked. You didn’t want to hide your relationship but you also didn’t want it outed by some random F1 update page. You wanted to be the one who shared it with the world. 

It took you a moment to think about it and you didn’t want to spend your first Valentine’s Day in your flat. “I would love to go out,” you tell Carlos honestly. 

“Good, I made a reservation to this place I think you’ll love.” 

You smile having the perfect idea of how to mess with him, “Well what if I said no?” 

Carlos doesn’t seem at all phased, “Then I would’ve canceled the reservation.” 

You can’t argue with that logic. “What’s the dress code? Because I take it you aren’t going to tell me where we are going.” 

“You’ll be correct about that. Dress code,” Carlos pauses for a moment, “Wear something red.” 

You roll your eyes, “You are only saying that because you like seeing me in red.” 

“It is your color mi amor.” 

“Oh so I look bad in all other colors,” you challenge. 

“What has gotten into you today? So sassy.” 

“I don’t know. Maybe it's because I miss you.” 

“I’ll see you in less than a week, mi amor.” 

“I know, I know.” You pick at your nails. “I don’t know why, I just miss you more than usual this week.” 

“I miss you too,” Carlos admits. 

You go to say something but you are interrupted by another voice. “Carlos, Carlos,” a familiar Monégasque driver calls out. “Who are you talking to?” 

“My girlfriend,” Carlos replies nonchalantly. 

“Ooohhh,” Charles calls out, and before Carlos can react Charles shoves his entire face in front 

of the camera, your screen now filled with nothing but Charles. 

There were only a handful of people who knew that you and Carlos were together, Charles being one of them. When Carlos left McLaren for Ferrari, he had spilled the beans to Charles and you had learned that Charles was the one who kept pushing Carlos to come see you. So saying you were thankful for the Monégasque driver was quite the understatement. 

You giggle at his actions. “Hi, Charles. How are you?” 

“I’m doing great, how about yourself?” 

“Same old, same old.” 

“What are you two talking about?” 

“None of your business,” Carlos answers at the same time as you say, “Discussing Valentine’s Day plans.” 

“Valentine’s Day plan? What are you two lovebirds doing?” 

“Going out,” Carlos answers for you. 

“Ooooohhhh can I come with?” Charles asks. 

You snort at his question, “Don’t you have your own girlfriend to take out instead of third-wheeling on our night?” 

Charles says nothing and just gives you a blank stare, “Fine, be that way.” 

You roll your eyes at his childishness, “Don’t be such a baby.” 

“You’re younger than me!” 

“That makes it worse!” You exclaim. 

“Charles, did you need something or did you only come in here to bother us?” 

Carlos’s question seems to snap the other Ferrari driver back in focus, “Oh. Yes actually, we aren’t free from our media duties yet.” 

“Let me say goodbye then I’ll be back out.” 

Charles wishes you a quick goodbye and you are left alone with Carlos. “You have to go?” You ask, already knowing the answer. 

“Yes.” 

“The life of a Formula 1 driver never stops.” 

“You’d be right about that Hermosa.” 

“I’ll let you go, call me if you get the chance.” 

“Of course. I’ll see you soon mi amor, don’t miss me too much.” 

“I’ll try.” 

It’s a week later on Valentine’s Day, and you had spent the majority of the day getting ready for your first real date with Carlos. But along with the butterflies in your stomach, there was also this unwelcome feeling of sadness. At first, you couldn’t place what it was but then it hit you like a truck. Lando didn’t send you any chocolates. You knew that the chances of him sending them were slim but for some reason, it really stung. Every year he sent you a box of chocolates, no matter where in the world he was, no matter what he was busy doing. And every year there was a note “You’ll always have me and your shitty rom-coms”, well you at least you still had your shitty rom-coms. You were excited for your date but that gloomy feeling was hard to get rid of and you knew that Carlos was bound to notice. 

“Wow,” is all that came out of Carlos’s mouth when you answered the door.

“I hope that’s a good wow,” you chuckle nervously. You had done what he asked, you were wearing red, more specifically the signature Ferrari red. While it wasn’t a hard color to match, you hoped that Carlos appreciated the sentiment. 

“Of course, mi amor. You look… amazing.” You smile at his lack of words. You don’t need him to tell you anything, you could tell what he’s thinking from his gaze alone. 

“Oh, these are for you,” Carlos hands you a bouquet of red roses and baby’s-breath along with a wrapped box of chocolates. 

“Thank you Carlos, we can share the chocolates later tonight.” You tell him as you walk back into your flat. Carlos shuts the door behind him and follows you into the kitchen as you rummage around for your good vase. 

“We’ll have to leave soon if we want to make the reservation,” Carlos says, checking his watch. 

“Alrightly, just let me grab my shoes.” You walk into your bedroom to grab your shoes. On your way you stop in front of the mirror to check your hair and make-up one last time. 

When you walk back out you notice Carlos staring at the pictures on your walls. As you move closer you can see the one in particular that he is staring at. 

“That’s when Lando and I first declared each other as best friends.” You say with a sad smile. “I don’t really remember it but I do know that we were at my house and my mom snapped the picture.” 

Carlos turned to face you but you continued to stare at the picture, jealous of how young and naive the two of you were back then. 

Carlos called your name and you were quickly snapped out of memory lane. “Are you okay?” His question laced with concern. 

You wave him off, “I’m fine.” Carlos gives you a look almost asking ‘are you sure’ and you are quick to spill your feelings of gloom. “I mean it’s silly and I knew what was going to happen.” 

“Knew what was going to happen?” 

“Every year Lando has either given or sent me a box of chocolates. At first I knew it was his mom forcing him to give them to me, but as we got older he knew that it was something that cheered me up, especially because I never got anything in school from the other boys. Then he would always include a note, ‘You’ll always have me and your shitty rom-coms’. Then I didn’t get anything this morning and I knew I wasn’t, but it makes it all more… I don’t know. Real? I guess? It’s stupid, I know I shouldn’t be complaining about not getting chocolates from another man when my insanely handsome boyfriend is standing next to me.” 

“Mi amor, I didn’t know he did that. That was sweet of him and I am sorry that he can’t grow up and accept that he isn’t in control of you. Even if he was your best friend you deserve to be loved and not be shunned for doing so.” 

You nod in agreement. Every time you feel at peace with the whole situation something like this happens and you are brought back to square one. 

“Well let’s get going. I don’t want this ass-hat to ruin anything else for us. Especially not tonight.” 

Carlos snorts at your insult and holds out his arm for you to take, you do so happily. 

Carlos was nothing but a gentleman the entire time. He opened the car door for you, pulled out and pushed in your chair, and complimented you the entire evening. Sure these were all little things but they meant the world to you. The two of you were in your own little bubble the entire night, everything was so peaceful. 

However, it wasn’t until you and Carlos got back to your flat that your little bubble of peace was popped. You were busy finishing your skincare routine when Carlos called out your name. You walked into the living room and were met with the most domestic sight: Carlos sitting on your couch in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt scrolling through his phone. The sight brought a smile to your lips. 

“You called?” You asked, making your way over to the couch. 

As you take a seat next to Carlos, he hands you his phone and you are greeted with the familiar sight of Twitter. It takes you a second to make out the picture, the two figures in it are quite blurry but as soon as you read the caption attached to it your smile drops into a frown. 

‘New WAG alert? Carlos Sainz was seen looking comfortable with a mystery woman at a candle-lit dinner this Valentine’s Day. Will we be seeing more of her?

“Oh.” You aren’t surprised by the lack of privacy and you are well aware that this was bound to happen eventually, you just didn’t think that it would be the first time the two of you went out publicly. 

Carlos raises an eyebrow, seeming to have expected more than a one-worded response to the tweet he just showed you and you can’t help but shrug your shoulders in response. 

“You’re not upset,” he asks. 

“I mean a little, but it's not like I can do anything about it. We knew the risks before we went out and we were willing to take them. Are you upset?” 

“I am used to it,” Carlos admits, “It happens to me all the time, I just wished I was given the decency to go out with my girlfriend and have a nice private dinner.” 

You cuddle up into Carlos’s side and he is quick to abandon his phone and wrap his arms around you. “I don’t want anything to spoil this evening,” you tell Carlos, “so as long as those are the only pictures out there let's ignore them for now.” 

“I can do that. Now what movie do you want to watch?” 

“How about 10 Things I Hate About You?” 

March 2022

The beginning of the 2022 season was right around the corner and every time you and Carlos talked he was always trying to sneak in a comment about you coming to Bahrain. He thought he was being so subtle with his comments that the look on his face when you asked him if he wanted you to come with him was priceless. 

“I thought I was being subtle.” You can hear his frown through the phone. 

You try to contain your laughter but the task is easier said than done, “Baby, you were as subtle as a bull in a china shop.” 

“But will you?” 

Ever since he first started hinting around, you weighed the pros and cons. You loved watching the races, you would be able to spend time with Carlos, you would be exploring a new country. All of these things were nice, but when you thought about the cons, they paled in comparison. If you went to Bahrain then your relationship with Carlos was definitely going to become public knowledge, and while that wasn’t a bad thing you weren’t completely sure if you were ready for the entire world of fangirls to also be a part of your relationship. There was one other thing that was making you hesitate- the idea that you would probably run into Lando. 

You couldn’t let that stop you though, so without putting any more negative thought into it, you told Carlos that you would love to go to Bahrain with him. 

Walking through the paddock in Ferrari gear felt wrong but right at the same time. Carlos had insisted on providing you with all the possible merch you could imagine. The number 55 displayed proudly across your back, a Ferrari cap snug tightly around your head, a pair of Ferrari sunglasses Carlos had loaned you, and to your surprise a pair of Ferrari socks. You had nearly laughed when you took them out of your little handmade care package, you didn’t even know that Ferrari had socks it wasn’t like anyone was going to see them anyways. 

You were hesitant to wear it at first. Most of the other WAGs never wore team gear and when they did it certainly wasn’t to this extent, however, Carlos had put your mind at ease. He did love seeing you in red. 

You were well aware of all the cameras and more aware of all the people. Carlos had given you a clear set of directions on where to go and who to ask for so that you would be escorted to Ferrari hospitality without any complications. However, you had guessed Carlos had scrapped that plan and failed to tell you. Because standing right by the entrance to Ferrari hospitality was none other than Carlos himself. 

“Find everything okay?” He asked as you reached him. 

“I did, but this wasn’t a part of the plan.” 

“Well, I had time and saw your message. I wanted to be the first to greet you.” He leans in and kisses your cheek. 

“It’s a welcomed surprise.” 

“Come,” Carlos grabs your hand and interlocks it with his, “I want to give you the grand tour.” 

Carlos drags you around introducing you to everyone and you can’t help but feel extremely welcomed in your first -official- introduction into the world of Ferrari. Monaco might’ve been the first time but this experience was a much fonder one. 

Carlos spends as much time as he can with you, doing his best to make sure you felt welcomed. Eventually, he is forced to do his job and you watch the free practice in the comfort of Ferrari hospitality. 

Ever since Valentine’s Day you have avoided social media. Even when you were friends with Lando you never really interacted much with F1 Twitter and even less so now that the two of you weren’t talking. However, due to it being the beginning of the season F1 the sport was trending and out of pure boredom, you decided to brave the tweets. Most of them were predictions about the year, fans cheering on their faves, and even thirst tweets of seeing the drivers back in their cars once again. And who could forget the beloved gossip and update pages? Certainly not you, considering you were looking at your own face on one of the pages. 

You weren’t foolish enough to think that you were going to go undetected with Carlos, you were fully expecting it. That however did not lower the shock of seeing yourself on one of these pages. The tweet itself didn’t have many likes or retweets but it wasn’t the only one out there talking about you. And it wasn’t before long until you saw one captioning ‘Carlos Sainz and Lando Norris’s BFF spotted together entering the Ferrari garage’ and below it was a picture of you and Carlos hand in hand. That wasn’t what made your stomach flip, it was what was underneath the photo. Speculation as to why you didn’t have your yearly appearance on Lando’s Instagram. 

Of course they were right, there was no need to speculate when that is exactly the reason why, not that you were going to confirm their beliefs. You would have to tell Carlos about all of this on the way back to the hotel. No need to worry him when he should be focusing on the car and the season ahead of him.

The two of you are lying on the bed in your shared hotel room watching some random movie that just happened to be playing when you turned on the TV while waiting for room service. You were snuggled into Carlos’s side, your hand resting on his chest. Carlos has one arm under your head, the other is scrolling through his phone. 

When you told him about what you saw on Twitter that afternoon he simply shrugged and said “Let them think whatever they want to think. It’s our relationship, not theirs. We don’t owe anyone anything.” 

You still had your concerns that Lando might do something but Carlos insisted while he was dumb, he wasn’t that dumb. But if he was to open his big mouth McLaren and Ferrari’s PR team could handle it. This was nothing to worry about. 

You’re half paying attention to the movie and half paying attention to the occasional funny tweet or whatever Carlos is showing you. A knock at the door causes you to shoot out of Carlos’s arms. “I’ll get it!” You call out to Carlos, excited to eat some real sustenance. 

You don’t even bother looking through the peephole before whipping open the door, a rookie mistake. Because who stands in front of you is not the room service delivery person with their little cart, no, the person standing in front of you is your ex-best friend. 

“Lando?” you ask in shock. 

“So I see what’s going around Twitter is true then?” 

You cross your arms over your chest, “Excuse you?” 

“I just had to see it for myself,” Lando sneers. 

Before you can respond Carlos comes up behind you. He’d gotten out of bed at the sound of 

Lando’s voice. “What are you doing here?” Carlos questions. 

“Oh I just saw some update and WAG pages saying that my best friend was spotted with no one other than the Carlos Sainz and I figured I would come see it with my own two eyes.” 

“We aren’t best friends anymore. Remember you told me I was throwing 15 years of friendship away?” You snap back. 

“You need to go,” Carlos gently guides you away from the door so that you are now standing behind him. You aren’t going to argue with that. All you wanted was to spend the night with your boyfriend eating room service while watching a crappy movie. You didn’t want to see Lando, let alone have this conversation. 

“Is this room 512?” Of course, now the room service shows up. 

“Yes,” Carlos answers. The gentleman looks between Carlos and Lando, “Don’t worry about him, he was just leaving.”

You peer around Carlos in time to see Lando stomp off down the hallway back to his own room. The room attendant drops the food off and leaves in a hurry, not that you blame him. 

You make your way back to the bed and curl in on yourself, Carlos is quick to follow. “I’m not hungry anymore,” your voice is muffled by one of the pillows. You feel the side of the bed dip behind you as Carlos sits to comfort you. 

“I can’t believe he showed up here. What is his problem? Do you want me to go talk to him?” 

The idea of Carlos talking to Lando nearly makes you throw up. “No, don’t bother. It’s not worth it.” 

“No,” Carlos says harshly, “He comes here, spews a bunch of bullshit and he thinks he can get away with it.” You roll yourself over so you can now look at Carlos. You’ve never seen him so mad, sure you saw him pissed off and frustrated at Monza a few years back but this, this was a whole different type of anger. 

“Carlos, as much as I would love for you to give him a piece of your mind, it’s not going to do anything. To him we're the bad guys, no matter how we try to explain ourselves. I’ve made peace with the fact that this is who he is. I think as long as this stays between the three of us and off the track it's best that we just leave it.” 

“That still doesn’t mean he can show up whenever he feels like it and start shit.” 

“I know, but you’ve said it yourself- he’s childish.” You can see the fight and anger leave Carlos’s body. “Besides, I want all your focus to go into the race. I only kiss boyfriends who end up on the podium.” 

“Is that so?” Carlos questions with a sly grin. 

Well, it seemed that you owed Carlos a kiss. A Ferrari P1-P2 finish at the first race of the season was a sight to see. The entire garage was in a frenzy as all of them rushed to watch the podium ceremony. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do with yourself. You wanted to go watch the ceremony in person but you weren’t sure if that was acceptable, seeing as the rest of the team was more deserving and you were only, well, yourself. 

“What are you doing? Let's go! Carlos will want to see you!” James, one of the mechanics that Carlos had introduced you to early in the weekend had seen you standing off to the side looking confused as to where you should go. 

“Are you sure?” You asked as he weaved you around his co-workers. 

“I’m sure of it! Besides, don’t you want to see your boyfriend up on the podium?” 

You really did want to see Carlos on that podium and it definitely had nothing to do with seeing his skin shine with sweat and champagne, nothing at all. 

The entire atmosphere was addicting- the fireworks, the roar of applause, the cheering from the team, it was all so addicting and the grin on Carlos’s face was worth being squished in between multiple sweaty bodies. 

You could pinpoint the exact moment that Carlos saw you in the crowd and if you thought he was happy before you would consider him ecstatic. After the ceremony, Carlos was quick to make his way down to where you and the rest of his team stood. 

Your congratulations died on your lips when Carlos crashed his into yours. Although surprised, you waste no time grabbing the nape of his neck and bringing him closer to you. His skin is sticky with sweat and champagne, not that you mind. His lips are sweet and you can’t help but savor the flavor. 

He pulls away and you can’t help but ask, “What was that for?” 

“You said you only give kisses to boyfriends who get podiums. I was just collecting my award.” 

You roll your eyes, “I’ll kiss you no matter where you end up.” 

“Good.” Is all he says before capturing your lips in another kiss. You were well aware of the cameras, the people and their cheers when Carlos kissed you. You could feel the heat rise into your cheeks but you didn’t care. How could you when you had Carlos kissing you? Tomorrow 

might be a different story but for now, you were truly living in the moment. 

Silverstone 2022

Nearly 4 months had passed since Carlos had kissed you after his podium finish in Bahrain. And it's been nearly 4 months since every social media platform of yours has blown up. It was almost scary how fast your follower count went up. You tried not to look at the comments but your curiosity had gotten to you. While the majority were sweet, there were always those who hated other people's happiness. 

It really didn’t bother you, well most of the comments anyways. The ones that cut the deepest were the ones that asked about Lando- Where’s Lando? I wonder what Lando thinks about this? Oh, so you're the reason we don’t have Carlando anymore. She was only using Lando the entire time, I guess the friendship paid off. 

Carlos had called you when first brought them up, that conversation was a rough one. He had suggested deleting social media for a time and you had argued back that they really didn’t bother you. You knew that Carlos was concerned for you, it was sweet. But like any 20-something-year old you were addicted to your phone and social media. Carlos had then suggested making a private account, something only your close friends and family could view, that way you could continue your life as an iPad kid. 

Silverstone was the second race that you were able to attend of the season. Carlos understood that you couldn’t drop everything and travel the world with him, no matter how much the both of you wished you could. But it nearly broke your heart to tell him that you weren’t able to make it to the Spanish Grand Prix. He told you it was okay but you could still hear the sadness in his voice. 

You always sent him a text after every race, no matter the result, and if the timezone allowed you would try and call him. So when your time off got approved for the entire week at Silverstone you couldn’t be happier. 

So here you were, your third time at the Silverstone circuit, however, it was your first time being here and not being in the McLaren garage. You felt more comfortable in your Ferrari getup the second time around. 

You had high hopes for Carlos during qualifying, the free practice sessions seemed promising. And your hopes were fulfilled when Carlos got pole position for the 2022 Silverstone Grand Prix.

Your emotions were amped up a hundred times the next day when the checkered flag was waved and Carlos crossed the finish line in P1. Emotions were high in the Ferrari garage and you weren’t excluded in feeling them. Carlos had just achieved his first-ever Formula 1 win at Silverstone. Everything seemed to move in a blur, you were whipped away to see Carlos. You didn’t care how sweaty he was, how his hair was sticking out in a hundred different directions, or the indents of his helmet on his cheeks. None of that mattered, all you cared about was Carlos. Celebrations didn’t cease after the podium ceremony. Of course, Carlos was whisked away for a few post-race interviews but everyone was preparing for the night ahead. 

You don’t remember the name of the club that you were dragged to and frankly, it didn’t matter. The atmosphere was buzzing, the music was so loud you could feel it in your chest, and the floor was so sticky that you could feel your shoes almost slip off with every step. But you could barely think about any of that when Carlos’s hands were currently around your hips and the two of you were dancing, not very PG-ly, in the middle of the club. 

Carlos was handsy when tipsy, you knew that much. His hands were constantly moving up and down your sides, to your hips, to your arms, and even to your neck every time he decided it was time for another kiss. 

“Do you need another drink?” Carlos shouts over the music. 

You glance down at the empty cup in your hand, “Yes please!” 

Carlos grabs your hand and drags you away from the dance floor and towards the bar. You bump into a couple people and while it is bound to happen you can’t stop the quick ‘sorry’s’ that slip through your mouth. No one seems to pay any attention to you basically stepping on their toes, all too wasted to really care. 

You stand next to Carlos as he tries to get the bartender's attention. You don’t mind waiting, it’s busy and the poor bartenders are slammed. However, you do mind when someone bumps into you so roughly that you are rammed into the bar counter. 

“Sorry!” The person exclaims and you are quick to turn around to see who the hell just ran into you. 

The universe must really have it out for you because the voice belonged to none other than Lando Norris, who else? The two of you lock eyes but say nothing. It’s only when Carlos turns around with your drink that Lando lets out a scoff. 

“Congratulations Carlos,” Lando says. You don’t have to be a genius to tell that Lando isn’t being genuine.

“Thank you,” Carlos replies dryly. 

“That was quite a performance at the podium ceremony,” Lando’s attention is now fully on you, “I never did quite take you for a slut but guess I was wrong.” 

Your jaw drops and you are left speechless. Never in a million years did you think that the boy you grew up with would call you such a vile name. Tears well in your eyes, is this truly what he thinks of you? 

Carlos slams the drinks on the counter and you can feel the anger roll off of him in waves. “What did you just say?” Carlos growls. 

Lando looks taken aback by Carlos’s reaction and you can almost see a flicker of regret flash across his features, however, he doesn’t change his stance reply with a cold, “You heard me.” 

“I have had it with your glorified temper tantrums. You need to grow up and get over yourself.” Carlos doesn’t allow Lando to get another word out, he grabs your hand and pulls you away from the bar. 

Once the two of you are outside Carlos is pulling you into a tight hug. “Don’t listen to him. He’s drunk and an asshole.” 

Carlos's words don’t do anything to stop the tears from falling. Sobs rack your body and Carlos can only hold you tighter. Rationally thinking, why did it matter what Lando thought? He wasn’t a part of your relationship. Emotionally thinking, on the other hand, Lando was your best friend for 15 years. The two of you went through almost every milestone together and yet he still called you a slut. It didn’t matter if he was drunk or not. 

“Let's go back to the hotel,” Carlos says softly. 

You can only nod. You can’t help but feel bad for Carlos, tonight was supposed to be his night. The two of you were supposed to celebrate his win but here you were crying and getting snot all over his shirt. 

You had nearly passed out the moment you and Carlos got back to your shared hotel room. The excitement of the day along with the tears had proven all too much. Cuddled up next to Carlos you couldn’t help but feel the need to apologize. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Why are you apologizing, Hermosa?” 

“Tonight was supposed to be all about you. We were supposed to have a fun night celebrating and I ruined it.”

“No. The only person who ruined it was Lando. He had no right to say anything.” 

“But-” 

“I don’t want to hear you apologizing for something that wasn’t your fault. You did nothing.” 

“But my reaction-” 

“Was a normal reaction to the situation. If he ever says or does anything like that again I won’t hesitate to punch him.” 

“Carlos!” you exclaim, “You can’t just do that.” 

“Consequences be damned.” 

“Carlos,” you say in a warning tone. He says nothing and you shake your head in annoyance. 

“We can celebrate properly later, when do you need to be in Austria?” 

“In three days, I think.” 

“Oh, well when we go back to my flat we can do something before you leave?” 

“Sounds perfect mi amor.” Carlos presses a kiss to your temple. 

When you talked about celebrating with Carlos at your flat you meant maybe have a few drinks, go out for a nice dinner, or maybe even watch a movie. What you didn’t imagine was straddling Carlos on your couch. 

One of your hands was wrapped around Carlos’s neck and the other was tangled in his hair as his lips left warm, wet kisses along your neck. His hands were spread across your back, holding you in place to make sure you didn’t fall backwards off the couch. 

“Carlos,” you whine out. The slight scratch of his facial hair mixed with the feeling of his lips were driving you crazy. You were definitely going to need to use some concealer and foundation 

on your neck when you got ready tomorrow morning. 

Carlos, hearing your whine, had only responded with a “I know Hermosa.” 

His hands then found their way to your waist and moved you off of his lap so that your back was now resting against the cushions while he hovered over you. His hands dance along the hem of your shirt and you savor the warmth of his palms. 

Carlos nearly has your shirt off of your body when there is a knock at the door. The two of you look at the door and then back at each other and Carlos brings a finger to his lips, signaling for you to be quiet. You nod in understanding, hoping that whoever is at the door goes away soon. 

The knocking continues and Carlos moves off of you and to the front door. You sigh and sit up, fixing your shirt in the process. You hope whoever is at the front door has a good enough reason for interrupting your and Carlos’s celebration. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” You hear Carlos question whoever is at the door. 

“Carlos,” you call out, getting up from the couch to make your way out of the living room to see what the commotion is. “Who’s at the door?” 

You don’t need Carlos to answer the question because as soon as you are close enough you see a sheepish-looking Lando who is holding a bouquet of flowers. 

“Lando, what are you doing here?” You cross your arms over your chest. 

“I came to apologize for my behavior last night.” 

Carlos scoffs, “Just last night? You should be apologizing for a lot more than that.” 

Lando looks down defeatedly, “You’re right. I should have never acted the way I did. The truth is I was worried about losing my best friend. I’ve always cared about you and I always will care about you.” 

It was your turn to scoff, “You didn’t seem to care about me that night in Monaco when you told me I was throwing away 15 years of friendship. You didn’t care when I pleaded with you to understand my feelings. You didn’t care when you basically told me to choose you or Carlos. You say you were worried about losing your ‘best friend,’ but if you were so worried, how come I couldn’t even get a response from you that morning I texted you apologizing for all of it?” 

“But I’m here now.” 

“That doesn’t matter. I don’t need a half-assed apology. Especially after that night in Bahrain and especially after what you called me last night.” 

“What made you think that showing up here, unannounced, was going to do anything?” Carlos asks. 

Lando now turns his attention to Carlos, “I wasn’t talking to you. I am here to apologize to her, not you. This isn’t any of your business.” Lando snaps. 

Lando has always been a bit of an idiot and clearly, that hasn’t changed in the past year. You rub your eyes. You can feel the stress headache starting to form already. 

“Not any of my business,” Carlos repeats, “Are you kidding me? You say it’s none of my business but I think calling my girlfriend a slut is my business. You might be too childish to see it but I care about her. I listen to her when she talks about you and your friendship, when she talks about how she has supported you for all these years, and when she misses you. I won’t have you messing around with her feelings.” 

“Lando,” you say gently, “You will always have a special place in my heart. I just can’t get those nasty words that you told me out of my head. It’s one thing to call me a bad friend but calling me a slut? For what? Finding someone I care about, someone who makes me happy? I can’t accept your apology, at least not right now. Maybe someday we’ll be able to be friends again but I think it's time that we admit that we will never have what we once did.” 

Lando looks as if he is about to cry and while you feel bad you have to maintain your stance. You can’t have someone like this in your life, it’ll only make it harder. 

“I get it,” Lando says, “Just know that I truly am sorry for the way I’ve acted. I hope the two of you are happy, I mean it.” 

“Thank you, Lando. I wish you the best."

Lando walks away, head hung in shame. Carlos closes the door softly and just like that the hope you held for you and Lando’s friendship dies out. Maybe it’s for the better, maybe one day the two of you can be friends again. But for now, you’ll focus on the present. You might’ve closed the door on Lando but you have never been happier opening the one for Carlos.

A/N: I just wanted to say again thank you so much for all the support on part one. I was not expecting this to become a 20k+ fic in it's entirety. I was also unsure the entire time whether or not to make Lando and the Reader friends again, so hopefully this is open ended enough for you to decide.

Also please don't forget to like, comment, or reblog. It seriously means the world to me <3

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[linopls]

kinktober day twenty-one

lingerie jisung x fem!reader warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, sub!jisung, mentions of masturbation, non-penetrative fucking, unprotected 0.7k words

jisung felt like his dick was about to explode. 

it wasn’t because you were laying in front of him in lacy and skimpy lingerie. or that you posed seductively, one leg crossed over the other and your back arched to perfectly display your ass. or that the top was so small that your breasts were spilling over the top. or that you were doing this in his bed, waiting for him to come home from the studio. it was the fact you were in his favorite color.

he now remembers you asking him, about a week ago, what his favorite color was. and when he responded and followed it up with why, you said: ‘no reason.’ this was the reason. 

this means that you bought this set recently, with the full intention of wearing it for him to see. this wasn’t something you wore with your past boyfriends or for your own leisure. you bought this for him and that made his dick throb.

“stop staring at me like that and come over here and touch me,” you purr.

jisung’s head is spinning, he can’t think straight. the only thought occupying his mind is that he needs to do is pull your panties to the side, stick his dick inside you, and probably set a world record for Fastest Male Orgasm in the history of forever. 

he slowly crawls onto the bed and overtop of your body, caging your head between his arms. you prop yourself up on your elbows to meet his face and press one experimental kiss to his soft lips. 

jisung short circuits. he moans at the simple, domestic act of you giving him the peck on the lips and he realizes how uncomfortable he is being restrained by his jeans. you notice too, swiftly undoing the button and zipper and pulling his pants and boxers down just enough to free his aching cock. 

“we can skip the beginning steps,” you whisper, rubbing your nose against his. “i’ve been touching myself with the thought of you seeing me like this for the past hour.”

jisung’s eyes roll back into his head and his cock leaks into the tight grip of your hand. he’s gone completely speechless, which is unlike him. usually he’s the one to make your head go numb and what nothing more to used by him, but now he gets it.

“please, y/n,” jisung whines before interlocking his lips with yours. its a passionate and lust filled kiss, spit dripping down your chin and teeth clashing as jisung ruts his hips down against the fabric of the lingerie. 

the scene is erotic and you can’t help but feel waves of arousal through your body as you watch jisung shamelessly thrust his begging cock against the lace. 

“you look so cute like this, ji,” you tease him between kisses.

“y/n, you’re so hot,” he cries.

“will you cum like this?” you ask, thrusting your hips up to meet his. “will you make a mess all over my pretty panties?”

you’ve never heard jisung make noises like this, he’s usually what you would call a groaner. deep and low moans directly into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. but he’s whimpering and whining and burying his face into the crook of your neck, biting down on your soft skin.

“y/n, please can i? can i?” he begs, his sounds being muffled by the pillow and your shoulder.

“sungie, please cum,” you coo. “please make a mess all over me.”

with one last loud cry, jisung’s cock twitches and spills his release all over your bottom half. he quietly whimpers as he continues to thrust his hips through his orgasm. you wrap one of your arms around his shoulder and run your fingers through his hair, something he’s done millions of times to you, to calm him down. 

after a while, he stops moving his hips and just rests on top of your body. his breathing eventually slows and he can feel himself coming back to his senses. he lifts his head up to look you in the eyes and he smiles. 

“thank you, baby.” he places a soft kiss on your lips. “you’re so good to me.”

“anything for you, ji.” you smile.

jisung abruptly props himself up on his arms and hooks one of his fingers through the bottom of your panties and pulls them to the side. he lines himself up with your soaking wet entrance.

“now let me be good to you, baby.”

i love writing for jisung, no reason he's just such a fun guy

@rockstrhanji @hyunjinhoexxx @mixtape-racha @euphoric-univers @haruharu-egypt @shit-why-what @twiggoblin @kookiesbunny @virgohannie @nataliee10 @ihrtlix @aaasia111 @lolli4me @lilcutieana @changbinsrightboob @hanjisunglover @chansducky10 @elissasimp @boi-bi-ahaha @lilquokka04 @anglerfishiey @sirenscall1031 @might-be-a-rat @jihyun2monster @kpflyn @samsmitty @imwithurmother @meilix @summer3sworld @mysweethannie @kittykattime @linoots @yaorzu-blog @sofiaeli 

@alemi-i @cupidsmoons @yoongles2025 @vixensss @chlooooop @lemontried @idkluvutellme @superiorbrownskinn @ana-stasssiaaa @amayaaseees @ilikecatsanddoritos @alnex05 @esairevmp @greysweaters-blog @sanzusfavgf @jutannies @faraonatojishady @hanniemylovelyquokka @chloeskzboomboom @quinnluvsmoney @burningupp-replies @aisha-md @jo-dinner @jeannie-beannie @httpsimmy @hazneezs @cuffier 

@dvbkie099 @il0v3skz @chrishak@quokkaaah @bex90997 @sheeshhhhfelixsworld @leeknowyah @tumadreposts @hyunniebunni @cipher-ipher @alice630 @jinnies-princess @bangtancultsposts @evrythinghqppened @rebellescauses-blog @juicypebbless @fawnpeaks @the-life-of-stella @lakoya @compersian @seung-mine @mal-lunar-28

#linopls: jisung #linopls #linopls kinktober 23 #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids imagine #skz #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #han jisung smut #han x y/n #han x reader #han smut #han jisung #skz jisung #jisung x reader #jisung smut #jisung imagine #jisung x you #jisung x y/n #han imagine #han x you #skz imagine #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #skz x you #skz x y/n

[bluecollarmcandtf]

"Dude, I took over your dad's body.."

"...and goddamn is there a lot of him to work with! I've been a ghost for years now, but I've never been inside a 6' 3" ex-linebacker! I've been checking him out all afternoon, and let me tell you that this man is big and hairy all over," he punctuates his comment with a wink.

Your dad, the man you've looked up to your entire life, is saying things you don't want to think about while casually laying on the couch in nothing but a robe and booty shorts. The urge to puke is suppressed, but you know that Jimmy has crossed a line here. Your deceased friend has possessed bullies, professors, and more, but he's never had the balls to take over your own family. What was he thinking?

"I jumped into him while he was at work. I think his coworkers probably found it strange when I picked up his briefcase and waddled his ass out the door," Jimmy chuckles at the memory, "But don't worry. Your old man had plenty of sick days he wasn't gonna use."

It doesn't take long for you to burst out in anger at the spirit controlling your father. Your face is hot, and you can't stand to watch your dad get puppetted around like a fool!

"Calm the fuck down!" he swears uncharacteristically, "Give this big guy a hug. Come here. Daddy needs some love..."

The thought of hugging your father while he's being forced to act like this feels wrong, but you relent. A part of you is glad for the embrace. It might not actually be your dad, but paternal comfort is exactly what you need right now, and your real dad isn't the type to give his child a hug.

"That's it, son," Jimmy pets your head with your father's thick hands, "Let daddy take care of you. Let your dumb old fart-of-a-father give you some much-needed attention."

You can't help but chuckle at the self-deprecating joke. Your real dad was too proud to laugh at himself, and he'd never made an effort to be anything other than distant and formal with you. In fact, there was a lot your real dad would never do; he'd never leave the office in the middle of the day, he'd never lay around the house like a lazy bum, and he'd certainly never let his hairy chest and thick legs be on full display in front of his disappointing gay son.

Suddenly, while still embraced, you realize there's something poking into your waist.

"Sorry, dude," your father whispers in your ear, "I guess your dad is just happy to see you."

You push him away, insisting that Jimmy needs to stay out of family members' bodies because this just feels so wrong! You search the pair of unnaturally blank eyes for any sign that Jimmy might be listening to you.

"You need to relax, bro," your dad (Jimmy) groans in annoyance. He looks disappointed, but then he sparks up and gives you a new look of excitement. "Son," he says with exaggerated machismo, "Take a page from my book and learn to chill out. It doesn't matter what the world thinks about you or me. I'll prove it to you..."

With a placid grin and blank gaze, your father lumbers past and marches straight out the front door of the house. You're almost too stunned to follow. Was Jimmy really going to parade your dad's body around the neighborhood in nothing but his robe?

"Afternoon, neighbor," your father's rumbling tone bellows across the street, "Lovely weather, today. My son thought I should take my fat hairy gut for a little stroll in the sun. You know us dads have got to keep our boys happy. Am I right?"

Mr. Jones stares at your father from his porch, just as shocked as you are. He often drank beers with this man and every other neighborhood dad at backyard barbecues and living room game watches. This was not how he normally interacted with the man, and it obviously struck him as weird.

"You alright, Bob?" he asks hesitantly.

"Right as rain, neighbor!" Jimmy answers with a tone that's too goofy to pass as my dad's, "If that's how you're staring at me now, I wonder what'll happen if I take this robe off..."

Before Mr. Jones can process the flirtation in your father's voice, you shuffle your dad further down the street and away from the whole interaction. That may have been hilarious, but Jimmy was going to destroy any reputation and respect your father had around here!

You demand to know where Jimmy is going with this body. It's not like you have any ability to even slow the ghost down when he's got the weight and strength of your 200 lb father.

"I'm thinking the park. Your dad could use some cardio," he smirks, an unfamiliar expression on the grown man's face, "Or maybe the public bathroom on the north end. You know, it has that hole in the stall..."

No amount of reasoning or arguments can change Jimmy's mind. Apparently he's set on wearing your father to the city's most notorious gay hookup spot.

"Don't look at me like that," his gravelly voice sounds amused by your frustration, "With me in charge, your dad will be the dirtiest slut that bathroom's ever seen. Don't you think it'll be funny to see such a massive, manly bear serving man after man in there?"

You sigh in disbelief.

"Or...maybe I don't have to rent out your dad's body to a bunch of strangers..."

You wonder where he's going with this. It sounds like an ultimatum is coming, and you don't like the idea of your crazy dead friend giving you an ultimatum.

"...your dad could hold off on bottoming for strangers...if...you let him be your submissive little bitch."

The choice is an annoying one, but you're pretty sure you can't let your dad have unprotected sex with strangers in a public place. This is what he'd want right?

"That's what I thought," the grin on your father's face twists maniacally. He tussles your hair like he's the proudest dad in the world, "Let's head on back home, buddy. Daddy's gonna lick every inch of sweat off that body of yours. He's got years of emotional absence to make up for."

One of his beefy arms cradles your back and turns you around. You're relieved to no longer be headed towards the public bathroom, but you're still a little nervous about what awaits you at home. How does Jimmy expect you to enjoy any of this when it's your dad doing all these things to you?

"Daddy's gonna treat you to a night that's all about you," he goes on, "Cooking you dinner, rubbing your feet, cuddling on the couch, and so much more. I want you to think of some humiliating things daddy can do for you while we walk back. Make sure they're extra degrading or your dad will just have to step out of the house and degrade himself where the entire city can see..."

The last comment gives you butterflies in your stomach, but it also gives you a bit of a hard-on. Maybe Jimmy playing with your dad wasn't so scary of an idea after all. With him possessed, anything was on the table: personal affirmations, some much needed bonding, roleplay, revenge, humiliation. Heck, you could even give your father a golden shower and Jimmy would have him smiling through it!

Walking home, you steal glances at your dad, towering over you as his rotund gut leads the way. Home can't come fast enough!

#gay dad and son #male possession #gay dad bod #male mind control #body swap #gay fatty

[pandoraslxna]

⋆｡° ✮ minors dni 🔞

⋆｡° ✮ Kinktober masterlist

⋆｡° ✮ Warnings: spanking, pussy / clit slapping, degradation, dom/sub, authority kink, fingering, daddy kink

You hadn't meant to get caught.

You had just needed it so badly, and with Jake being away for another resource raid until eywa knows when, you‘d been unable to wait any longer. But somehow the intention of being quick and subtle had turned into something more drawn out, and before you had realized it, you were stretched out on your bed, three fingers buried deep between your thighs, when the flaps that represented the door to your marui pod were suddenly pulled aside and you were met with two golden eyes, staring down at you right as you came undone.

Of course, you were paying for it now.

You yelped as a heavy hand descended onto your upturned ass, sending you sliding forward over the muscular thigh you were bent over.

"Such a needy little slut. Couldn't even wait for me to get home, huh?" Another smack cut off any answer you might've made. "Who do you think does this pussy belong to?"

"Y-You", you gasp, when the answer was rewarded with another blow.

"And whose ass is this, huh?" One hand squeezed and molded a cheek, and you moaned as he groped the overly sensitive flesh. "Well? You’re gonna answer me or what? Whose is it?"

"Yours! It’s- it’s yours!"

Another slap, this time aimed a little lower, fingertips brushing over your folds at the impact and you let out another moan, less like a painful one and more in a way that was so unmistakable, that when you felt the thigh you laid on tense, you knew exactly what was coming now. "Does this turn you on, getting what you deserve? Does my little slut enjoy getting spanked?"

"Yes", you said quietly, your breath hitching.

“Yes, who?” The words were sharp, slicing over your skin like knives, and you shuddered.

"Sir", you moaned, softly at first and then louder when his palm landed on your ass yet again. "Yes, sir!"

"Hmm, that's better", Jake hummed, and you shivered again, as a hand stroked over one aching cheek.

"So pretty when you've been spanked", his low voice murmured. "Did you do this on purpose, then? Were you trying to get me to bend you over my knee and remind you what happens to naughty girls who can't keep their hands off other people’s property?"

You shook your head, biting your lip to hold back a moan, not trusting your voice to answer just yet. Fingers slid down along the crease between your cheeks, then vanished between your glistening folds, before they teased your entrance. Moaning, you arched towards them, then cried out when the movement was answered with a slap. "Did I say you could move?"

"No, sir. I just—"

"Just what? Needed Daddy to touch your little pussy, is that right?" A firm swat cut off whatever you might have answered. "I think I don't want to hear anything else out of that filthy mouth of yours except Yes, No, or Please, got that?"

Your cheeks were bright red as you mumbled a quiet, "Yes, sir."

"Now, what should I do with you, hm?”

You had more than a few suggestions, but you doubted they'd be appreciated just yet, so you kept quiet. "You know, I came home early tonight because I planned to spend the evening fucking you into the mattress, giving my good girl a reward for being so patient, but since you already decided to be selfish and take care of your needs all on your own…."

"N-No! Please, sir! Please…”

Another harsh spank to your bottom made you gasp. "Not that you look like you couldn’t take another round", Jake teased, one of his fingers dipping between your thighs. "My little slut‘s all wet down there."

"Y-Yes, sir, yes I- I can—”

You moaned loudly at the sudden explosion of sensation when two of Jakes digits pushed themselves past your tight entrance to the last knuckle, stretching you further.

"Oh f-fuck", you half-sobbed and the scoff coming from Jake only ratcheted your arousal up to almost painful limits. You wanted to feel the thick cock that was pressing against your stomach pounding into you instead, but there were only his fingers, thrusting and curling against your sweet spots.

Without quite realizing it, you began to move, pushing back against his hand as best as you could. A hard smack made you freeze, the warm buzz radiating from your ass all the way up your spine. "Look at you", Jake chuckled, "so hungry for it... you need it, don't you?"

"Yes, sir. Yes, sir, please. I promise I’ll be good! Please I need it so bad!" The words were little more than a desperate and whiny whimper as you fought for some kind of control, squirming on his lap, only to have it snatched away with a deep thrust of his fingers that made you choke on a moan instead.

As soon as the sound was out of your mouth, the caressing hand drew back to slap your ass again, then paused.

"And now you're getting pleasure out of your punishment", he tsked, shaking his head in disappointment as he pulled his fingers out of you against your whiny protests. "Doesn’t look to me like you’re even trying to be a good girl."

For several seconds, there was nothing, and you wondered if you’d truly fucked up this time, but then the hand descended, landing just below your ass, making you try to jump away. The next time, Jake didn't stop with just one blow, and each seemed to get harder as he moved from cheek to cheek, spreading your thighs and making his way inward, closer to your pussy. His low voice was ringing in your ears, each word punctuated by a hard smack. "You. Do. Not. Ever. Play. With. This. When. I‘m. Not. Home. That. Clear?”

The last strike landed just on your throbbing clit, and you barely managed to hold back a sob at the white-hot sting that threatened to rob you of the last vestiges of sanity and control. "Ye…Yes, sir", you forced out through clenched teeth, drooling and breathing rapidly.

"Good job, hun. I hope you‘ve learned your lesson", you heard Jake‘s low voice in a hum of approval. "Go on and come for me, baby girl.”

You nearly howled as Jake suddenly pushed his fingers back inside you, thrusting them in and out at such a merciless pace, you were left with no choice but to come on command– moaning, cursing and shaking as he held you firm over his thigh, helping you ride out your orgasm as he curled his digits just right.

When the last echoes of your moans slowly ebbed away, you felt limp and boneless in his arms.

"Now where are your manners, hm? Don’t you want to thank daddy for making you come?", Jake grinned at your hazy expression, while swiping the drool from your chin with his thumb. When there is no sign of a response from you, other than a content little hum, his grin widens. "Oh c’mon, did I already fuck that brain outta ya? You’re too cute, all fucked out just from my fingers. Baby, I haven’t even started yet…"

#praying this won’t get me banned AGAIN #lunaskinktober2023 #jake sully #jake sully x fem!reader #jake sully x reader smut #jake sully x you #jake sully x reader #jake sully x female reader smut #jake sully x y/n #jake sully smut #jake sully avatar #jake sully x na'vi reader #jake sully x omaticaya!reader #jake sully atwow #dilf jake sully #atwow #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar 2

[blarshwritezz]

Yandere jock x male reader forced boyfriend. Jock forced you to be his boyfriend and tried everything he could to have sex with you, you refused, leaving him needy and horny. So he drugs the food with aphrodisiac when he gives you a snack

Yandere Jock x Reader

M yan x M reader

TW - general yandere behavior, NSFW, drugging, dubcon, semi-public sex

You had to be the unluckiest guy in the world. Things were supposed to be fine. Your plan was to just fly under the radar until graduation, and you almost made it.

Until he came along.

People envied you, getting to date the hot, popular jock despite not being not very popular yourself. But none of them realize how hellish it is! You never even liked him in the first place! The only reason you two were dating was because of some stupid blackmail he had.

The two of you couldn't even have one conversation without him practically begging to fuck you. But there was no way you'd ever let him! You'd rather let him spill your secrets!

Other than that (and the jealousy issues, and the possessiveness, and the threats, and everything else awful about him) he was sometimes kind of nice. It wasn't uncommon for him to bring you snacks or drinks.

So one morning when he came to you with a bottle of water a granola bar, you didn't think much of it. You didn't have breakfast that day anyway.

But you quickly realized something was wrong. Very wrong.

The whole morning after eating that stupid little granola bar your mind has been fuzzy, your body needy. The only thing you could seem to think of was how much your cock needed attention.

You couldn't even make it to lunch. While everyone else enjoyed their break and ate the world's worst food, you were hiding in a bathroom stall jerking off. It was pathetic. One hand covered your mouth as the other desperately fisted your cock.

You didn't even stop when you heard someone coming in. You just bit your hand and tried harder to hold back your pathetic moans.

Until you heard his voice.

"I know you're in there, darling. Let me in so I can help you out."

How did he know?! This finally made you stop your actions, pre-cum making your hand sticky.

"If you don't let me in, I'll just crawl under the stall door. I'm not afraid to get a little dirty. I've waited too damn long for you to finally be ready for me."

He pounded on the door, making it rattle. What were you supposed to do? You didn't want him...but you probably needed some help with this, and if he's going to come in anyway, you might as well not struggle too much...

Barely pulling your pants back up, you shakily unlocked and opened the stall door. He barged in and closed the door again, making sure to lock it. He didn't waste a second in connecting his lips with yours harshly as he pushed you against the cold wall and pulled your pants down, making sure they dropped to your ankles.

"Look who's needy now..." He lowered his own pants just enough for his erection to spring free, and it was larger than you had anticipated. As if the world would end if he didn't penetrate you fast enough, he turned you around so your back was facing him and forced his way into your ass.

He let out a loud moan as your warmth enveloped him. "Now you listen here. Don't you dare let me miss out on hearing your moans, got it? Be loud. I want everyone to know who you belong to."

With that, he thrust into you at a brutal pace. One of his hands found its way around your body to hold you by the neck, just tight enough so you could really feel it without choking.

His free hand caressed your ass cheeks gently, then slapped them hard enough to leave a mark. Even if it weren't for him demanding you not muffle yourself, you weren't sure if you could. It was impossible not to moan and scream with pleasure and he caressed and used your sensitive body.

If you could think straight, you'd be more concerned about all the noise. Surely anyone would hear if they simply walked past. But it was impossible to think of anything except how his cock was rearranging your guts.

"Fuck, you look so damn good like this...! You have no clue how long I've been waiting for this moment..." He leaned in and gently nibbled your earlobe, moving down to bite and kiss your shoulders.

His hand, previously on your ass, moved around to your twitching cock. He fisted you, his pace very slow compared to the intense and desperate way he was demolishing your hole.

"Cum for me, I know you want to."

And oh lord did you. You swear you've never shot such a large load. Maybe it was the aphrodisiac?

Feeling your hot cum coat his hand, he soon filled you with his own seed, the grip he had on your neck tightening.

How you wished you could say that was the end...

Okay, this one I think is probably good!

#yandere #yandere x reader #blarsh writes #x reader #male yandere #male x reader #yandere x you #anon ask #yandere jock #jock x reader #jock yandere #male x male #male yandere x male reader #male yandere x reader #male yandere x you #yandere x male reader #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere x male darling

[s1ater]

lorenzo’s luck.

pairings. mobster!slytherin boys x fem!reader

about. in which it’s been a rough couple of weeks and lorenzo is facing the heat of it all.

warnings. swearing, a beating,

ricky rocks. okay, new idea sense i’ve been watching the sopranos lately and writing generic slytherin boys is getting boring for me rn… also i’ve been seeing some stuff abt lorenzo on tiktok and even something on here and i think i characterized him totally wrong? but also not because i read the book (but not really) he originally came from and he didn’t seem as sweet and innocent as people play him as. idk, i’ll stick to what i have now but lmk what y’all think ig

everything and everyone was on edge.

for the past two weeks the feds had been down your neck, jeopardizing your whole lifestyle and way of work.

everyone was in a pissy mood because of it—because when the feds were on your ass, that meant having to be careful, and your job was hard thing to be careful about when every move you made was highly incriminating. so when being careful, you barely got to work, and no work meant no profit.

it was hard to specify exactly what you did.

you were a mobster.

there it is, in the simplest form.

there was a lot of pressure in being one, especially when law enforcement was there to make things ten times harder.

and it wasn’t only affecting you, but entirety of your group;

“you’re a fuckin’ idiot, lorenzo, you realize that? take a fuckin’ look at yourself in the mirror and stare at something that isn’t just your face and realize you’re a fool,” mattheo’s voice erupts so suddenly through the air, startling all of you. “get your shit together.”

it was already starting. you, theodore, blaise, lorenzo, and mattheo had just barely taken a step into one of the many backrooms of the businesses mattheo’s father owned when the composure came fumbling down.

lorenzo had just barely sat his ass in one of the leather seats when the attention was pinned to him, “jesus, what’s up you’re ass m?” he laughs, but you can tell it’s a nervous one. “jesus.”

you glance to theodore who winces at the response like it was his own. that was the worst possible thing to say, especially to mattheo, especially right now where his anger and frustration was at an all time high.

you can see that anger pulse through his skin in a spike as he finally seems to processes lorenzo’s antagonizing words.

oh boy.

“fuckin’ saved your ass, enzo. you know what my fathers saying? that you’re a loose fucking cannon and i need to let you go,” he has his hand raised, shaking it in his face. “and you know what? we don’t let people go. there’s no such thing as letting someone go in our business. that’s a rare ever occurrence.”

letting someone go is disposing them. taking them out to the back and putting them down like a dog.

“get your head on straight and don’t you forget that you wouldn’t be here without me, because you’d be dead.”

“you act like you’re so fucking clear minded,” he huffs, leaning his head against the palm of hand.

that was enough.

mattheo swings himself around, throwing his fist into the face of enzo as hard as he can. you flinch at the sound of enzo’s nose cracking beneath the contact of mattheo's knuckles. you feel yourself tense up at the noise not letting up, but rather playing over and over, filling the room with ugly sounds of punches fill the room.

“mattheo-“

your call out is cut off as theodore takes your shoulder, pulling you back, “don’t.”

“he’s going to kill him.”

“he won’t,” he pulls you even closer and further away from the violent scene unfolding before you all, tightening his grip. “lorenzo’s too viable.”

he was right. even as enzo was a loose canon, he brought in a lot of profit and kept his end clean… for the most part.

lo was too salient for mattheo to kill, but his loud mouth was enough to tip mattheo over the edge.

it was a perfect way for him to blow off steam; beating in the face of his friend.

***

“don’t you look like a dime.”

it’s been a week since mattheo went on his little rampage, and you were now just seeing lorenzo in his healing state.

you’re smiling up at him, pinching his cheek as he rolls his eyes to your attention, “yeah, yeah, get off my back.”

he looked far from a dime; his nose was broken causing both his eyes to sport dark rings of bruising around them while the lining of his jaw was turning a dark purple and yellow.

“you and mattheo civil now?”

“define your idea of civil.”

“well, you’re not dead, so I assume you two are as civil as civil gets in mattheo’s terms.”

he scoffs, “yeah, well, let’s hope mattheo and his father are on the same page and I don’t end up dead in the next week.”

over a month ago, some of lorenzo’s boys hijacked a truck everyone was told specifically not to mess with despite the fair amount of profit that could come from it. and unfortunately, they dug themselves an already deep hole, deeper by obtaining the truck through a casualty.

lorenzo had received the blame, despite it having nothing to do with him other than the men being under his supervision and responsibility. he had to pay for it, and he did…

“you’re on the higher end of things, he won’t kill you.”

“that’d be the exact reason for him to kill me,” lorenzo corrects you. “I’m on the higher end for a reason, i can’t fuck up.”

you press your lips into a thin line at the thought of his words. mattheo’s beating must’ve really enlightened lorenzo because there was rarely ever a moment you caught him in such a grave mood where he was so in touch with reality.

his attitude on life was light and so unserious; you were unsure on how mattheo even recruited him when that was the exact opposite that this job sought out for. but then again, the boy recruited all of you.

“then don’t fuck up,” he laughs lightly, but it’s caught in the back of his throat. “again.”

“great advice, y/l/n,” he glances at you, “really got that one on the nose.”

“don’t be a douche,” you slap him lightly. “I don’t know what you want me to say, lo. you’re alive, you’ll stay that way too as long as you don’t press your luck.”

“hard to press my luck when I don’t have any in the first place.”

you gaze at the side of his face, attempting to gage the general emotion or even thought process going through his head, but there was nothing. not even his usual perma-smile could be found.

***

“someone approached me awhile ago-“

“who?”

“doesn’t matter who—a clients girlfriend,” lorenzo is anxious, pacing back and forth before all of you in the backyard of mattheo’s home. “i was offered a deal.”

you wince immediately.

lorenzo had collected the whole lot of you; everyone except mattheo. you all sat on his back deck, fixating between the full beautiful greenery backyard of the riddle home and lorenzo, who hadn't spoken till now.

a deal.

he should’ve stopped there.

“a deal?” blaise arched a brow, now leaning on his forearms that rest on his knees. “what kind of deal?”

you all knew exactly what type of deal it was.

enzo’s eyes don’t reach any yours, but he’s stopped pacing, wondering whether he should really speak it now.

don’t say it.

“immunity,” he says it flat out, bringing truth to all of your thoughts. but he doesn’t seem ashamed to this with the way he looks at each and every one of you in the eye finally. “she said once we all get impounded, there’s a way out for me.”

once. not if.

“i tell them everything. i rat every single one of you out and i’m given immunity.”

you all look up at him like he’s crazy. and he is; to be speaking like this to a bunch of mobsters—threatening the entirety of their life and business is crazy.

“we get thirty years plus. there’s no doubt. they get us and we’re already laid in our graves before trial because what we’ve done is absurd-“

“are you saying you’re a rat, berkshire?”

“no,” he shakes his head fast. “no, not at all.”

“that’s not what i’m hearing,” draco shakes his head. “i’m hearing you’re getting nervous with all this recent snooping of the feds and you’re fuckin’ rat.”

“fuck off, malfoy. i’m just telling you what i was told. i’m not a goddamn rat. i’d have to be mental to give up all we’ve done-“ his hand finds his forehead and he’s pacing again. “fuck if i even remember half of it.”

you’re all back to silence, thinking about this. rat or not, this did not look good for him.

your eyes suddenly settle on the light and distant bruising under enzo’s eyes; finally healing. you think about mattheo beating in his face over and over, and then you think about what he’d do if he ever found out about lorenzo’s offer.

“they have a lot of shit on mattheo.”

you all look back up to lorenzo now, a certain interest now crossing each of you again.

“what type of shit exactly?”

“type of shit you don’t get parole with… or out of jail for that matter,” he looks even more stressed than before. “she said the rest of you could have chances of a life after serving. not him.”

this wasn’t a surprise. mattheo always had a quality that none of you did when it came to getting things done; something sociopathic. he always took risk without question of consequence. he moved in silence, he didn’t hesitate, didn’t think, he always got things done faster than all of you combined.

so if mattheo did something beyond all of your usual tasks, you wouldn’t be surprised.

“i mean that makes sense, matty’s been at this longer than the rest of us,” you reasoned it out, only to be stopped immediately.

“no, you don’t understand,” enzo shook his head.

“what exactly are we not understanding here, enzo? you seem to know something, so why don’t you just spit it out,” theodore sits up, speaking for once. there’s obvious annoyance and distaste in his mouth as he stares at the boy before you with a narrowed look.

lorenzo pauses, looking back at him with the same look. you can tell there’s a thought process behind his eyes, and his anxiousness is slowly melting away.

“you know, where do you guys think this is all going? genuinely. you think we’re going to spend the next couple of months running clubs, collecting money, and beating up the occasional person that’s late on their payments for fun?” lorenzo has turned sour, looking at each of you almost as if he hates you all for your ignorance. “this is for life, and we’re only at the beginning point.”

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