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#AND THEY SAID THIS AS IF IT WAS FUCKING HELPING
gremlingottoosilly · 2 days
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Imagine a Virgin! Reader thinking she outsmarted König by saying “I’m waiting till marriage” so he has a mock wedding in the basement 😭 imagine he kidnapped a priest to do the vows aswell.
In this whole situation, you mostly feel bad for the priest. Honestly, he just drew the worst possible card of being available in town next to Konig's dwelling and not being that cool type of priest who carries a gun. Konig kidnapped him, using the same method as you - and now there are two people stuck in his basement, but only one coming out alive. And fucked, thoroughly. It's kinda your fault - you said that you will never agree to sex before marriage and that you're too pure and innocent to even think about kisses without a wedding band. Konig loves you, obsesses with you - and he appreciates just how pure you are. Compared to his jaded position and cynicism, you're a pretty flower growing in the desert. Konig's heart was broken far too many times, and his years in the military didn't help with being a nice guy either - so, he appreciates his future wife being a faithful woman who values her innocence. Still, he doesn't appreciate it enough for a normal wedding. At least he has some sense in him, not fucking you in front of the priest. Konig drags you to the bedroom in the dumb white dress that he brought specifically for you - it's drenched in blood already since the basement isn't the cleanest place in the house, but he doesn't care. You look good in red. Too good, maybe. Good enough that Konig forces you to get on your back and kneads your ass before lapping at your cunt like a mad dog. He waited for this too long - a few weeks already, when he still thought your resolve could be broken easily. He's glad he waited - the sight of you trembling and crying under him is beyond divine. He wants you, he needs you, and he is so glad he can finally sink into your pussy, feeling your innocence slowly shattering under him. You can cry all you want, maybe loud enough for the priest in the basement to hear - but you can't escape him. Soon he will make you cry and squirm on his cock, moaning from pleasure - and soon you will beg for him to do his husband duties every night, while he is not busy with his other victims.
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I try to answer other people’s call lights if I’m not busy, because if my work is done and I’ve helped out with other people’s work, I can fully commit to slacking off guilt free. And usually what people want is bathroom, snacks, and/or pain meds, all of which are pretty easy to address and if there’s anything too complicated, I can always call the nurse. Anyway, I go answer this call light, and it’s for a patient I don’t know and have never spoken to before. I pop in like “hi can I help you?” as I feel so quietly smug about how Helpful I am being, and the patient goes, “do you know if I’m dying tonight? If I am, I should call my family.”
To be so clear. I was expecting like. a request for a ginger ale. I was not prepared emotionally for a very sick stranger grappling with the angst of potentially imminent death. So I go, “UMMM. I DON’T KNOW. LEMME CHECK WITH YOUR NURSE AND SEE IF SHE KNOWS.” This seemed heinously inadequate in the face of their obvious despair, so I added, “probably not in the next ten minutes if you’re able to sit up and ask, but I can’t make any promises.”
Don’t think that was the ideal follow up sentence. But it didn’t seem to make the patient any sadder than they already were. I used to really live in fear of being the nurse in someone’s anecdote about a wildly inappropriate thing said to them by their nurse. It’s not so much as I’ve gotten over that fear as I’ve accepted that my job thrusts me into a lot of situations where I have to talk about extremely intense topics to the people most intimately affected by those topics, often with no time, no prep, and no information. At this point, I just try my best to ground my inarticulate fumblings in as much genuine care as I can express, and thank God I don’t fuck up worse and more often.
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pathologicalreid · 23 hours
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gemini | S.R.
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two emotionally wrought people collide at a wedding, and a sexual escapade ensues.
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: softdom!spencer, use of the term "good girl" (i couldn't help myself), unprotected sex, reader on bc, alcohol, spoilers for 14x15 truth or dare, lowkey idiots in love, fucking against a wall?, fingering, heavy petting, r has an oral fixation, r is wearing a dress and makeup, explicit consent (hot), public sex, i think that's all word count: 3.42k a/n: this is a little self-indulgent and i don't care! based on literally just the first line of the song gemini by del water gap. probably not ever gonna get a part two. i've never done angsty smut (smangst?) before, so this was fun.
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so, here's the setting, we met fucked up at a wedding
Swirling the drink you held in your hand, you watched your friends as they chatted. The pink liquid in the cup, concocted by Penelope Garcia, was far too sweet for your taste, but you needed the liquid courage to make it through the wedding.
It wasn’t that you weren’t happy for Krystall and Dave. It was that weddings oftentimes left a bitter taste in your mouth – one so bitter that not even Penelope’s drink could offset it.
In your periphery, you saw a blur of purple in the corner, looking up to see Spencer. His hand still bandaged from his most recent brush with death, he used his free one to grip a glass of water. Raising your eyebrows, you gave him your best attempt at a smile before you greeted him, “You look good, Dr. Reid.”
He was fully donned in his favorite color, and you tried to pretend that you didn’t notice that your dress matched the purple hue of his suit. “Thanks,” he said shortly, not quite meeting your eyes.
Noting the way he was looking past you, you demurely leaned your head down, glancing over your shoulder so that you could see what he was looking at, only to see JJ. She looked gorgeous in her red dress, laughing at something her husband said before her eyes caught something.
She was staring back at Spencer, and not for the first time, you found yourself wondering what happened in that pawn shop. Bringing your eyes back up to Reid, you watched the confused look in his eyes bloom as he peeled his eyes away from JJ.
Sick of it, you spoke up, “Alright, I had dibs on being the mopey one tonight. What’s wrong?” You had wanted to brush it off as long-lasting nerves from the hostage situation, but he was acting strange.
You knew you weren’t his best friend, that was a title that JJ had been the reigning champion of since the beginning of time. Yet, you still noticed the rigidity in Spencer’s shoulders as he displayed a clear discomfort with his surroundings. You tried to think of something to say to him. How could you ask him if he wanted to get out of here without it sounding like a sexual proposition?
“JJ told me she loved me,” he said, his voice so low you weren’t even sure you had heard him correctly.
Your head snapped up, “Oh.” Swallowing thickly, you tilted your head curiously, letting loose hair tumble to the side. “Do you love her?” Likely not the right conversation for the wedding of everyone’s favorite right-person-wrong-time couple, but you were desperate for a rope to pull yourself out of your wallowing.
He took a sip of his water before setting the empty glass on the bar counter, “I did.” The admission hit you like a ton of bricks, until her continued, “but now…”
Filling in the blanks, you shrugged, “She’s married. They have kids.” Spencer was always doing the right thing, so pushing his feelings aside for the sake of JJ’s family made the most sense.
Furrowing his brows, he pondered this for a moment before speaking, “It’s not just that. I have feelings for someone else.”
“Oh,” you repeated, and somehow the thought of him being in love with an unfamiliar figure hurt more than him being in love with your mutual friend.
The both of you let the conversation lag, watching as Penelope came back up to the bar and poured more drinks. After she accused you of being boring for not wanting another drink, everyone returned to the tables. “Have you dated anyone since him?”
You choked on your newly acquired water, cupping your hand underneath your jaw in an attempt to stop water from getting on your dress. “Uh, no. I’ve kind of sworn off dating ever since,” you replied, shaking your hand out and letting water droplets fall to the floor.
Sighing, you slouched in your seat, remembering that all you’d ever be was a jaded bride. Left by your fiancé on the day of your wedding, doomed to never love again. Until you met Spencer Reid.
“For everyone?” Spencer asked, and you cursed his natural curiosity.
His question caught you off guard. Despite yourself, you shook your head, “I have like… one person who, if they asked me, I’d say yes.” Your skin started to feel warm, and you weren’t sure if it was your proximity to him or Penelope’s drink coming back with a vengeance.
Spencer stepped a little closer to you, leaning casually on the counter as if he wasn’t affecting your ability to focus. “Who’s your person?” The question was innocent enough that it made your heart ache.
“It doesn’t matter, he’s into someone else,” you told him, reaching behind your neck to pull your hair up, haphazardly twisting it. You didn’t have a hair tie, so you let the locks fall once you felt some semblance of relief.
This statement seemingly bothered Spencer because he looked into his glass, “Did he tell you that?”
Nodding, you chewed on the inside of your lip. “Yeah,” maybe not in so many words, Spencer was rarely crass enough to say he was into someone, but you understood well enough.
The conversation lagged between the two of you once again, your own private thoughts were only interrupted when the music changed. It was a slow song, one for the couples of the night to dance to.
You took a chance, “Do you want to go explore the building with me? It’s getting stuffy in here,” you said, taking one final swig of your water before jumping up from your stool.
He looked back at JJ, who was there with Will, and then forward to the girl who was asking to take him away, “Yes.”
David Rossi had spared no expense for his second wedding to his third wife, and the manor that you found yourself meandering within felt never-ending. Something about following Spencer as he led the way and told you facts about the history of the building felt so normal, and you wondered if it would hurt when the night was over. Maybe this would just end as another memory to loathe about weddings.
Trailing him into another room, you stumbled into his back. Quickly, Spencer spun back and caught you before you could fall to the ground.
Steadying yourself, your heart thrummed at the way he was touching you, tightly holding your waist so that you wouldn’t trip. Once you were no longer wobbling, Spencer reached up and gingerly lifted the fallen spaghetti strap of your dress back over your shoulder. Before you had fully thought out your actions, you leaned up on your tip toes and kissed him.
It was hesitant and gentle, but once you registered that you were kissing him you soon realized that he was kissing you back. What started out as a small peck on the lips quickly morphed into full, open-mouthed kisses.
You thought Spencer might eat you alive, and for a moment, you thought you might let him.
Without separating your lips, he herded you over to the wall, pinning your hips to the wall as you felt heat grow between your legs.
Pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth, Spencer pulled away ever so slightly, your faces just inches apart. “Is this okay?” He asked you, his eyes flickering down to your lips like he was holding himself back from kissing you again.
There was fear. A fear that if you moved forward tonight, nothing would ever be the same, but you took a chance  and nodded quickly, “Yes.”
Your answer acted as a release as Spencer dropped his head back down and the two of you reattached your lips. Despite your attempts to ignore it, you felt his hardened length pressing into you through several layers of clothes.
Twisting your head away, you gasped as Spencer took the opportunity to place his lips on your neck, gently suckling on the tender skin as you tried to catch your breath. “Are you sure about this?” You breathed, running your hands underneath his suit jacket, wanting nothing more than to push it off of him.
“Yes,” he answered, giving you the same consent that you had already given him, and it was enough for you to reach for his belt buckle. No matter how badly you wanted to see him entirely bare in front of you, this just wasn’t the place for it.
Gently, you slid your hand down his front, savoring the way his breath hitched against your neck as your fingertips precariously lifted the waistband of his boxers. He gently nipped at your earlobe as you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock.
You let your head fall backward, allowing him better access to your neck as you moved your hand. Moving your hand up so that you could swipe your thumb over the tip.
You dragged your other hand down, pulling his boxers down so that you could get a good look at what you were working with, and biting your lip at the sight of it. Slowly, you started to pump his impressive length, noting how his breathing patterns changed with your movements.
Dragging a knuckle up the underside of him, he dropped his head to your shoulder as you collected his pre-cum on your index finger on your way up, bringing your hand up to your mouth and licking the droplet off, peering up at him.
“You’re so good at that, baby,” he told you, sighing as he reached up and placed his hand on the side of your neck, skimming his thumb over your jawline as his free hand started to make its way up your dress, pausing when he only met bare skin. “No underwear?” He questioned, furrowing his brow at you as you bit your lip, trying to refrain from pressing into his hand.
Whimpering almost indiscriminately, you shook your head, “Couldn’t, panty lines would show under the dress.”
Spencer hummed in recognition, moving his hand up to cup your sex so that you could feel your own wetness on his hand. A pathetic whine escaped your throat as your walls clenched with need, still stopping yourself from grinding on his hand. “What do you need?” He asked, a teasing lilt in his voice, “Come on, you can tell me.”
“You, please,” you answered, your voice dangerously bordering on pleading. “Your hands, anything,” you squeaked out, breathing heavily as you awaited his next move.
Gently, he slipped a finger inside your wet hole, causing you to release a satisfied sigh. “You’re so wet,” he whispered in your ear as you tilted your head back and pressed your lips to his.
As his hand picked up in pace, so did your breathing. With each movement of his hand, you struggled to keep your volume at a respectable level, small whimpers continued escaping you even as you bit down on the inside of your lip. “Spence,” you whined, moaning aloud as he slipped a second finger into you, “Oh, god.”
The silence of the room around you only exacerbated the wet sounds that were emanating from your sex, and if it didn’t feel so good, you might’ve been embarrassed. In fact, as you felt a familiar coil winding in your abdomen, you found that you didn’t have the capacity to feel anything other than pleasure.
Crying out, you nodded as Spencer continued to thrust his fingers in and out of you, “Fuck,” you said, caring less about your volume levels. Even less so when he responded by pressing the heel of his hand against your clit, the pressure proving to be enough to send you over the edge.
“It’s okay,” Spencer whispered in your ear, “Let it go for me, baby.” His words continued as you felt your walls spasming around his fingers, his ministrations had slowed, but he worked you through your orgasm before withdrawing his fingers and lifting them up to your mouth.
Accepting the invitation, you leaned forward and sucked the sweet juices off of his hand, slipping your tongue between his two fingers as you looked up at him. You half expected him to be watching you with lust-blown eyes, but he was watching you just as attentively as he had when you started this escapade.
He retrieved his fingers from your mouth with a satisfying pop and reached down to ruche the fabric of your dress up around your waist. “Wait,” he said suddenly, gripping the silky cloth, “I don’t have a condom.”
Your eyes widened and you shook your head, “I don’t mind.” Still breathing heavy from your previous orgasm, you shook your head again, “I mean. I’m on birth control – and I’m good at it. I mean I keep up with it.” Now babbling, you hoped he’d say something. “I’m clean. I trust you.”
Nodding in understanding, he placed a hand on the side of your neck and looked at you intently. “I’m not going to do anything until you catch your breath,” he told you, taking up an authoritative tone.
Blinking rapidly, you evened out your breathing as he ran his hand up and down your torso, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, taking another deep breath as you looked up at him.
Spencer shook his head, “Don’t be sorry.” He leaned his head down, pressing soft kisses down the side of your neck as you finally pushed his jacket off of his shoulders. “You’re so pretty,” he murmured, leaning down to grip the backs of your thighs.
“It’s okay if you can’t lift me,” you rambled quickly, getting his attention as you aired your concern.
He raised his eyebrows expectantly, pressing his hips into yours and lifting your feet off of the ground. The leverage that he had, along with the support of the wall behind him, allowed him to get both of your feet off of the ground. You would’ve spent more time being impressed by this feat if you weren’t so distracted by his painfully hard cock that had now slipped between your folds.
Leaning down, you desperately kissed his lips, wanting him to give you those open-mouthed kisses that you had started out with. Instead, you cried out when, without warning, his full length slipped into you.
Placing gentle kisses on your collarbone, Spencer murmured, “Are you okay?” He whispered, seeming like he was using all of his self-control to just stay still.
You nodded, feeling his cock throbbing so deep in you that you were almost afraid you’d come from just that pressure alone. “Been a while,” you murmured, taking a deep, shaky breath.
He hummed in understanding, “I’ve got you, take your time.”
His words filled your stomach with butterflies, and it wasn’t just because he was fully sheathed in you. “Spence,” you whimpered, “Move.”
On your cue, Spencer gave a tentative thrust, permitting your resulting moan to mix with his grunt. “Fuck, baby,” he said, continuing to thrust in and out of your cunt, filling the room with the crude squelching of your actions. “I’m not going to last long,” he informed you.
Throwing your head back in ecstasy, you moaned helplessly when Spencer dropped one of your legs to the ground, hooking his arm underneath your other knee, providing a new, deeper angle. You swore as the sensations started to feel overwhelming.
The new angle gave him more control over his movements, enabling him to use his free hand to pull at your breast through the fabric of your dress. As you tugged gently at his hair, you tilted your head back, “Spence, I- shit,” you cursed, recognizing the tell-tale signs of your second orgasm approaching.
If it weren’t for his words of encouragement, you would’ve been embarrassed by coming too quickly, and if anything, the words only spurred you closer to the finish line. “Come for me,” he said, thrusting harder into you as he tried to reach the same point. “Let me know how good I make you feel,” he said, continuing his thrusts until his hips stuttered.
“Coming,” you whimpered, dropping your head forward onto his shoulder as you felt your walls tightening around his hard length. Crying out as he continued to pound into you, you buried your face into his neck and nipped at the skin to muffle your sounds.
Now he was solely working toward his own orgasm, having given you two of your own. “You’re such a good girl,” he panted.
Suckling gently at the skin on his neck – not hard enough to leave a mark, you littered kisses on his sensitive skin. “Come in me, baby,” you murmured, trying to spur him on.
Your success was apparent as his movements faltered and his cock started throbbing, feeling the pulses of his cum as it filled you, your eyes rolled back at the feeling while Spencer slowed to a halt, waiting for a beat before he pulled out of you entirely.
Shuddering at the emptiness you now felt, you leaned against the wall once both of your feet were on the ground. As your legs trembled, you watched as Spencer crouched to fish something out of his jacket, leaving you with your mixture of fluids running down your legs.
As he grabbed the handkerchief from his breast pocket, you gasped slightly as you realized his intentions. “Spence, you’ll ruin it,” you insisted.
“Would you rather go back out there with my cum dripping down your thighs?” He asked, knelt in front of you with his brows raised in mock innocence.
Swallowing thickly, you shook your head, “Jesus.”
He chuckled, using the handkerchief to wipe up the mess the two of you had made on your legs before carelessly tossing it into a nearby trashcan. Noting the way your legs were still shaking, he lifted your chin ever so slightly, “Are you alright?”
Nodding, you offered him a tired, but genuine smile. “I’m great,” you told him, wiping underneath your eyes where you were sure there was a mess of mascara.
Taking your hand in his, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, Spencer led to toward the French doors that led to the balcony, taking you out into the fresh air.
As you leaned up against the railing, Spencer shook out his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, doing his best to keep you comfortable. “Hey,” you whispered, “I really am fine. Are you? How’s your hand?” In all of the hormones, you had forgotten about his injury.
Spencer nodded, looking over the property that Rossi had rented. “I’m good, Y/N. I feel good.” You wished he’d call you baby again, but maybe that was too much to ask for. His eyebrows furrowed.
“What are you thinking about?” You asked him, recognizing the look from years of working together.
He hummed, reaching up and sweeping a strand of hair off of your forehead. “That guy? The one who told you he’s into someone else? I can confidently say he’s an idiot.”
Flushing, you smiled to yourself at the fact that Spencer was calling himself an idiot, especially when he was anything but. Shrugging, you waved him off anyway, “Nobody’s perfect, Spence.”
“No, I suppose not, but even so…” he told you, allowing his voice to trail off like he wasn’t totally sure what he wanted to say to you. “If he can’t see what’s right in front of him, then maybe you need to turn your attention elsewhere.”
Sighing, you leaned your chin in your hand, “Thanks, but I don’t know. Maybe there is better out there, and I’m just not worth it.” No, after tonight, you’d likely never get over him. It might’ve started as a workplace crush, but you felt in your heart that it was now something deeper.
Spencer shook his head, “Now, that’s where we disagree.”
“Spencer, I can’t-“ Your voice is cut off when you hear someone calling your name from inside the building, smoothing out the front of your dress one more time, you step back into the room, coming face to face with JJ.
She smiles in recognition of you, but the grin immediately fades from her face when Spencer walks out behind you, “Hey, we’ve been looking for you guys,” she said flatly. “They’re about to cut the cake.”
Nodding, you took another quick look at Spencer before following the blonde out of the room, leaving your secret in the room behind you.
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s-4pphics · 3 days
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a friend in need! (e.w.)
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SYNOPSIS: heartbreak aid during the apocalypse, you ask? 
WORD COUNT: 5k
WARNINGS: bff!ellie who’s sad, kinda perv oc who’s eager to fix that, remixed version of seattle!ellie, dina catching strays for no reason (i love her pls), wound care but erotic, SMUT AGELESS BLOGS/MINORS DNI, dubcon (nasty green), porn watching, mutual/guided masturbation, brief poochie eating, oc in denial ab her little crush, real girlhood <3, slight angst :(
A/N: the bubblegum apocalypse where no one dies or lies. #SCISSORING
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The gates of Jackson open, and relief rushes through your chest. 
Everyone is accounted for. Ellie’s accounted for. 
Weeks—or however the fuck long— of pent-up anxiety finally settles in your limbs as you sprint towards Shimmer while Jesse tends to Dina, greeting the hazel mount with coos and rustles through her fur. Baby needs a bath and a good brushing. 
Your eyes swiftly shift from her to your best friend, “Ellie, I’m so glad— “
“Can you help me down, please?” 
Creases bunch in your forehead at the strain in her tone. And then you’re met with the blood-soaked wrap that's enclosed around her jean-covered thigh. 
“Oh, shit… c’mere.” 
Ellie’s good leg swings over the saddle, and you hold her waist to ease her down into the muddy grass. Joel’s the first one to engulf her. They exchange words that you don’t catch before his reluctant arms drop to guide Shimmer back to the stocks, leaving you two alone. You can’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around her neck next, mindful of her leg. 
“I didn’t know what to think when y’all didn’t come back,” you whisper. 
When the two girls first made their departure to Seattle, the icy remains of winter had just begun to melt into the dirt beneath it, and that alone felt like ages ago. There’s mosquitoes and moths everywhere now, following wherever the sun beams. 
A strong arm wraps around your waist, and you instantly stiffen and detach from her, hands resting on her shoulders. 
Her gaze drops to the ground when you whisper, “What happened, Ellie? You okay?”
She breathes. “Peachy.” 
Your hands drop when she turns in the direction of her home, head jerking when she says, “I’m gonna shower.” 
“Dinners supposed to be really good tonight!” You exclaim with a broken smile when she takes her first hobble, “Eat with me? Consider it a celebration that you made it home safe.” 
Ellie seems to soften at your invitation, head bobbing in approval, and you smile. 
She holds her fist out to you, “See you in 20?” 
You bump your knuckles against hers with strained cheeks, “See you in 20.” 
One small, comforting smile from her, and she’s off, limping back home. 
“What’s up with them?” 
You flinch at the too close whisper from Jesse, and you shrug. “Maybe they broke up.” 
“Doubt it,” He snorts, “Dina told me it was brutal on the way back. The bastards were everywhere, she said. They’re probably still shook up.” 
“Damn… How’s she doing?” 
“Weird as hell. I think she’s sick or something,” Concern is melting off him, “She’s getting checked out now.”
“I’ll check on her later,” You face him, “Coming to dinner?” 
“Probably not. Gotta make sure Dee’s good.” He’s already walking off, trailing after his friend…? Ex? You never know what to call them. 
“See ya.” You wave awkwardly. 
Weird. 
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How do you cheer up a friend that just witnessed three dozen infected tear another small community to shreds? At least, according to Jesse. He was able to get more out of Ellie and Dina than you were, apparently. 
You don’t know how Ellie — or anyone — could experience such barbarous scenes as frequently as they do. You’ve been on patrol twice since you stumbled upon Jackson a few years back, and each venture leaves you less and less eager to see the world beyond its walls. You respect their bravery, not only for being able to dive head first into unknown territory with nothing but bullets and faith, but to also face those walking demons at every corner. 
Your closest friend is often excited to show you scavenged artifacts that she has collected, but… she’s barely spoken to you since you helped her off Shimmer. 
Her silence is uncommon, and therefore, frightening. 
“It’s been a while since we’ve had fish,” you scoff weakly, poking your carrots with your fork, “It’s good, huh?” 
Her focus shifts from the tablecloth to you. 
Silence. 
You drop your utensil, “Fuck, Ellie… dude, what happened out there? Jesse told me… that y'all got caught up— “
“Dina’s pregnant.” 
He didn’t tell you that.
Ellie’s whisper breezes past your ears so fast that you barely catch it. The canteen continues to bustle with hungry, ravaged patrons who returned from their second round of patrol. You assumed Ellie was one of them after her scattered return, but she hasn’t touched anything on her plate. Not even her carrots. Her favorite; A literal goddamn rabbit. 
No wonder she hasn’t eaten… Who could’ve with news like that? Especially considering the high she was riding before the couple left. 
“What.” 
Ellie’s head shakes with gall, and a disappointed grin plumps her cheeks. 
“Yup… Can’t wait to tell Maria.” 
Sharing the news of a new Jackson kiddo sounds like the last thing on her mind. Days before the two took off, she was squealing like a wild hyena in the wee hours of the night, gushing to you about the midnight explorations with her long-term crush. Her retellings of their first night together were vivid: filled with pent up tension and need and unfiltered lust. According to Ellie, they could’ve gotten married in a fortnight with the relationship they’d built over the years, and you believed her. Sadly. 
You were present, observant, during your teenage years. You were there when Cat kissed Ellie, when they broke up, when Ellie had recurring nightmares about Riley and was desperate for comfort from you, when Ellie fell for Dina… 
And now they’re in a pickle. A fat one. 
Hearing about Ellie’s relationship never went how you’d assume. You expected to be happy for your friend whenever she enthused about a topic that brought about such elation, but there was always something about the stories that gave you pause. Something that burned in the pit of your stomach and caused you to, frankly, fake congratulations. You’re unsure why, but hearing about Dina and Ellie’s relationship potentially being tarnished is calming that simmer inside you.
“Just when I thought…” She scoffs quietly. “Whatever. Fuck it.” 
You can’t resist and slip, “… Who’s the daddy?” And she hisses.
“Guess.” 
But you don’t have to... Fuck. 
Dina and Jesse’s relationship was… something. In adolescence, Ellie was either secretly celebrating their multitude of separations or crying to you about them getting back together. Their consistent streak of being on and off clearly got the best of them. There’s a ball of cells growing inside of your friend’s almost-girlfriend. 
“Shit… maybe it was… a misunderstanding? Doesn’t it take a couple weeks to… form in the womb or whatever?” 
You’re not the devil's advocate. Your lips clamp at Ellie’s stern glare.
“There’s no misunderstanding.” 
Your shoulders slump at the distance in her eyes. The indifference she’s exuding can’t disguise the hurt that she’s experiencing internally. Your heart aches for her, despite the excited jitters in your fingers.
“… Sorry, man.” 
“I don’t care.” 
Good, you impulsively want to say. You shove it down into the hardwood beneath your soles. Your brows furrow in annoyance, more so at yourself for not being remorseful. “Fuck off. Yes, you do, and that’s okay. It’s normal.” 
“Can we go?” 
Her request is sudden and cracked, and every inkling of pride deflates in your chest. Poor thing; How could you feel like this when she’s this scattered? Guilt replaces whatever dark fantasy you’ve conjured up in the past five minutes. 
You move to stand without objection. Fuck the carrots, “Yeah. Let’s roll— “
An instant lightbulb above your head… and it’s glowing green. Roll.
Roll!
Mischief shines in your chest and eyes when you glance around the packed space in search for, 
“TOMMY!” 
A flash of brown hair turns to meet your sprinting form. The peach he’s holding looks devine. 
“You seen ‘Gene anywhere?” 
Your grin widens at his disapproving stare.
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“Be careful with those, shit-for-brain! I’m not coming to save your ass like last time!” 
“Got it, boss!” You squeak with a polite smile, shoving the small baggie of rolled joints into your stuffed satchel. It vanishes the second Eugene slams his vault to his dirty ass man cave, “Fucking dicksucker.” You huff.
Ellie snickers from beside you. “C’mon. Be nice.” 
“No. He skimped on me last time. Toke hog.” 
The walk to your place is colder than usual, but it’s beautiful out. The moon shines from behind the dark clouds, illuminating the ivory that shields the incoming spring grass. Gorgeously cinematic; A scenery that gets the heart thumping. Aching. Yearning. 
You lead Ellie onto your porch and into your home. She removes her jacket and kicks off her boots, throwing her armor over the designated rack. Your satchel goes flying across the room until it clatters on your bed. Black tapes spill all over the mattress, and Ellie scolds you disapprovingly. 
“Again? Really?”
You smirk. Eugene’s always too blasted to punish your kleptocracy, “No one has a better porn collection than ‘Ge— “
Her jaw slacks, “Porn?! What the fuck, I thought those were the Jurassic Park— “
“They’re not…” Before pondering, “Although that’d be some crazy role play. RAAAWR— “
“You’re the fucking worst.” 
“C’mon! Look at these titles,” You skip to your bedside to snag a couple tapes, “Smoochie the Coochie… Banging my hot neighbor…” 
A boisterous laugh passes your lips, “Throbbin’ Hood: Prince of Beaves! Tell me that’s not fucking hilarious!” 
Ellie doesn’t laugh. Hasn’t laughed. Just simmers by the front door with red dusting her cheeks. How adorable! 
“Why’re you looking like that?” 
When her eyes travel over the creases between your brows and confused smile, your feet give an awkward stutter. This wasn’t the reaction you were expecting. At the very least, she should’ve cracked a smile by now. Even an insecure one. 
You peer down at the tapes in your hand and back up at her. Her posture shifted: arms wrapped protectively around her waist while she leaned on the balls of her feet, eyes inspecting the dim lights of your space. 
Another lightbulb. Not a green one. 
“Have you ever watched porn?” 
She shrugs with floundering shoulders. You chuckle. 
“It’s just for shits and giggles, Ellie. Don’t be so serious. The acting sucks and you needa good laugh.” 
You cradle the filled baggie like it holds a sacred orb and waltz towards the VCR. Your screen shifts from bright blue to the tape’s introduction screen. Naked men in speedos… Ellie plops down on the couch behind and mindlessly flicks a lighter. You reach into the baggie and toss her the fattest joint available before working the remote. 
A sigh releases… then another flicker… then a long, drawled out exhale. You grin. 
You, remote in hand, plop down next to her, “Is it good?”
“Better than last time, for sure.” You trade the remote for the joint, arm wrapped around your angled legs as you pull. Hits smooth… er. It still dries your throat. 
“Remind me to thank him.” 
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Two joints down. Two tapes completed. Three wide smiles from Ellie from the bad acting. The night’s a win in your book. 
She lazily lights another joint while you switch out the tapes. You purposely saved the best for last: apparently the only lesbian porno in that bastard’s whole cave. When’s the last time you’ve smoochied a coochie?
More importantly, when’s the last time Ellie has? Recently, you assume; She and Dina were too close to only be going on long walks in the woods. The more you smoke, the more your mind wanders where it shouldn’t. 
… Your friend is a lover. Always has been, despite her efforts of convincing you, herself — everyone — that she’s emotionally indifferent. Craves affection, both verbal and physical, like she’s deprived. She raves to you about her desires on a weekly basis, for fucks sake! Someone hug the poor girl! 
“Feeling better?” You squeak when you plant on the cushion. Ellie nods with a soft grin. 
“Thank you.” 
Your hands clap together and her body shakes from the recoil. “The night’s not over yet! I got a surprise for you! Happy Birthday!” 
“It’s not my birthday… I don’t know my birthday— “
Your smile is laced with grating sarcasm, “Wow, you really know how to kill the vibe! Just play along, goddamn!” 
You sigh when her expression flattens. 
“Ellie…”
“Yes?” 
Oh… That crackly tone did a little something. Cheering Clitorous. Alright. Okay. 
“I found a little something in ‘Gene’s special drawer— “
“Aren’t all his drawers special.” 
“Aren’t you supposed to be shutting the fuck up.” 
Her red eyes widen, but she silences. 
“You know what feels really nice after a bad breakup?” 
Her middle finger digs into her dry eye, “Getting high and watching porn with the only other lesbian you know?” 
“Even better,” Your hand claps down on her jean-clad, uninjured thigh. “Getting high and watching lesbian porn with the only other lesbian you know… while getting head. A true fixer-upper.”
More silence, and your tummy gives a nervous tumble. Eugene’s bud gives you enough courage to make eye contact, and, given any other circumstance, you would’ve hollered laughter at how stunned Ellie looks, eyes nearly stretched beyond her lids, but you don’t. You press on when she denies you. 
“You’re lying.” 
“Am I?” Your thumb presses the large button in the middle and the screen displays two, three — six women… all sprawled out on white carpet while lewdness shines through their eyes… And not at all the romantic wives fingering each other next to the fireplace like you envisioned. Plus, the music sucks. Who the fuck plays the accordion while bumping cooters?
Your eyes circle around and… Oh, wow. A lot less tame than you were expecting… Are those chains and a paddle? 
What the fuck, Eugene. 
“Oh, shit.” 
Ellie’s either impressed or about to go on a judgmental rampage. You gauge her expression curiously. Her lashes keep fluttering like butterfly wings. You nearly coo audibly. She always does that when she’s excited! What a cutie! 
Ellie recites the description at the bottom of the screen, “When six girls go off into the woods for an early 4th of July getaway, conversations take a lustful… and explorative turn. Find out what happens during one late, hot evening after a game of… kiss and blow?” 
You snort, “Are you asking me?” 
“Well, yeah… The fuck is kiss and blow?” 
You shrug, “Find out.”
One click of the remote, and the footage begins… More giggles from Ellie, and something flutters in your chest. You’ll have to watch bad acting with her more often. 
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Six minutes into Smoochie the Coochie, and you still don’t know what kiss and blow is. And you don’t care to find out. 
High pitched moans and pleasured squeals that almost sound phony rings in your hazy skull as you stare up at your best friend from between her covered legs. 
This is the quietest she’s been all night: her eyes are locked on the screen behind you, completely entranced with flushed cheeks by what you assume is the sweatiest, raunchiest… scissoring, is what it’s called? On the screen. Maybe. You’re wired and can’t think straight and Ellie’s hot. 
“Are we really doing this right now?” 
She whispers when you caress her thigh over her pants, and you nod approvingly. Desperately, but she can’t tell. “Up to you.” 
You don’t expect a cold hand to come up and tenderly brush against your cheek. You shudder and nuzzle into it. Sober you would be so embarrassed at how you’re reacting to her affections. You’ve never been the needy one. 
“Can we…” 
You pout and burn with embarrassment, but start to pull back, “Stop?” 
“No, no…” Her eyes meet yours and your body locks. A bit nervous. “I dunno…” 
“Tell me.” 
“Later.” She whispers. 
You stare skeptically as she plays with your earlobe. “I promise I’m good. I want this. I’ll tell you later.” 
A pause before you sigh. “Okay. Up.” You pat her thigh and her hips rise. Her unbuttoned jeans are peeled down her legs, gently over her fresh bandage, and tossed beside you. Your body is miles ahead of your brain; before you realize, your lips smack all over her bruised thighs, peppering over the freshly bandaged scars and faded ones. She squirms where she sits, shaky breaths puffing from her lips. 
Your mouth travels higher, and an encouraging hand lands on the back of your head, massaging your scalp. 
“Tell me what’s happening.” You mumble against her, a blind finger pointing back at the screen. 
“I don’t — So much shit is going on. Like… from all directions.”  
You smile against her thigh, “Someone catch your attention?” 
“I…” 
But no explanation is needed. There’s treads of weakness in her growl. Go figure. 
“Lemme guess… She look like her?” 
If she catches the unwarranted agitation in your tone, she doesn’t mention it. Simply digs her nails into the back of your head. No forceful tugs at your hair, but a warning, and your teeth beam. 
“I dunno what the fuck you’re smiling for, but it’s gonna piss me off soon.”
There's a smidge of threat in her voice, so your kisses travel up. A pleasant distraction, given every small twitch of her legs. 
Not too long before you reach the hem of her underwear, and you trap it between your teeth before releasing it. Her tummy jolts when the fabric hits her skin, and you go heart-eyed. 
“Tell me who you’re looking at.” 
“T-The one that brought all that crazy shit to the party.” 
Of course. Handcuffs, she means. The large, wooden paddle, she means. A slow drag of your tongue advances up her v-line and her body wracks against her will. 
“Crazy in a bad way?” You purr against softness, and she exhales a laugh. “Not in this context, I guess.” 
“You like that kinda stuff?” 
“How the fuck would I know?” 
You snort before your eyes fall, trapped by the small patch of wetness that sticks to her panties. Glues the outline of her lips to the fabric. You’re seconds — inches away from going feral. 
Whatever patience you entered with has withered: and with determined hands, Ellie’s underwear gets yanked, pried down her legs and tossed behind you. Your eyes glisten with excitement when they meet the red pearl that twitches in anticipation, walls that leak when the warmth of your breath brushes over the cup of her. 
Her pussy’s perfect. A stunner, for sure. You and Cat were never close, but you’d hit her up to get Ellie tatted. Not even in a discreet place. It’d be somewhere where everyone — Dina — can see. On your forehead, for fucks sake—
S-Stop staring at me. 
It seemed like the moans behind you became louder. You nearly shove three fingers in Ellie’s mouth as punishment for interrupting the moment, but you choke on a breath. Mumble a slur of you’re cute, can’t help it in an attempt to ease her. 
And just when your tongue unravels over your bottom lip, right when Ellie’s taste is millimeters away, right when her breath hitches and her mouth drops open, the loudest crack, very reminiscent of bullets, rings across your small living room. Scares her, scares you enough to steal the attention from the art between her thighs. 
The sight on the screen is new, even for you. 
It’s not every day you see girls being slung across muscly laps and swatted on the ass with wooden tools with their hands bound behind them while they cry and sob and beg for their masters to hit them harder. You probably would’ve laughed at the theatrics if Ellie wasn’t here, as if you weren't about to go to town on her ten seconds ago. Both your breaths shudder and tremble as raunchy sounds of lips smacking and girls touching themselves and fingering each other split your ears in half. 
Your vision tunnels and shifts when a whimper from Ellie rattles through your chest and down your ribcage. She gasps like you’ve caught her doing something bad, but she doesn’t stop whatever she’s doing. Just blushes madly with her hand shoved between her squeezed legs while her eyes flicker between you and the screen. 
Time seems to whir and the room spins. The pace of your breath increases, slobbery wheezes syncing with Ellie’s when her legs cross over one another. 
Your muscles move you closer, hands planted on either side of her waist, back enlengthening until your eyes are level with hers. Her tongue barely dips to wet her bottom lip, eyes swiftly flickering down to your mouth.
A hand raises right when another crack of a paddle against skin ripples through your speakers, and before Ellie can flinch, your palm caresses her cheek, thumb exploring the divets in her face. Over the healed wounds and fiery specks that hypnotize. You don’t expect her to nuzzle into your touch… 
And you definitely don’t expect her arm to start moving, despite its enclosing. 
Her eyelids bat, and green pierces through your chest. Over your neck, your face, your shoulders as her bicep twitches. When her lips part around a gasp, you choke. 
Lemme see. 
Ellie curses under her breath, kisses your palm, and undoes the twining of her legs. Her fingers are gentle where they rest over her pussy, the bones in her hand flexing as her palm digs into her clit, folds smushed around the muscles of her thumb. 
That’s how you do it?
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, masking a smile as her head shakes. Your heart pinches. 
Show me how. 
Her head falls to the side as her cheeks sizzle. 
You first. 
You shudder, and your brain scolds. This wasn’t the plan. You were supposed to smoke, watch porn, eat pussy, and escort her home safely. 
Not the fucking plan.
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Ellie insisted that you restart Smoochie the Coochie before you undress. For ambiance, she’d said when you stood on two feet, watching as she removed her hoodie. For me? She’d whispered against your cheek, in only a tank top, when you finally positioned yourself on the cushion in front of her. Face to face, pussies almost touching, your knees to the ceiling. 
The volume of the footage has been turned down, but the acting… it’s fucking hilarious. You shouldn’t be smiling. You shouldn’t be giggling, but you are. 
Ellie moves loose strands of hair behind her ear, grin matching yours. 
“Hm?” 
“Nothing.” 
“Hm.”
Ellie, much to your shock, makes the first move. Again. 
Takes your wrist in her hand, brings your limp one up to her mouth to pepper kisses on your knuckles before pressing in between your open thighs. Your fingers are clumsy and your heart pounds against your ribcage, thighs jerking at the sticky contact of your own juices. Ellie's eyes between your legs like a hawk, leant comfortably against the pillows stacked behind her. 
Her attention encourages you. You balance on the hand that rests on the couch, grinning playfully around the fingers that sink into your mouth and glide on your tongue. Ellie shakes her head with a small smile before reaching for the lighter and last joint. Sticks the end of it between her lips, flicks the lighter twice, and ignites it. 
Every slow exhale of smoke gets rewarded with presses on your clit, your index and middle fingers tickling the sensitive area with learned precision. It pulsates under your fingertips whenever you lock eyes; her eyes are fervent with need, uncontrollably so, and it sends vibrations through your spine. 
Slower, Ellie whispers wetly when your touch becomes rushed. Too eager for her liking. She’s always hated when you rush things. Loathes your impatience. 
The moans from the film pick up again: shaky and cracked and high. They match yours when you apply just enough pressure on the spot right above your clit. Your walls constrict and slick gushes from, and Ellie curses.
When your fingers explore elsewhere, she sits up suddenly, her breath hitting your mouth when she mutters, Keep touching right there, with a tight hand around your wrist, trying to guide you back to the spot that makes your thighs quake.
I’m gonna cum if I do. There’s warning in your gasp.
Ellie puffs again before huffing a smoky breath, the scent infiltrating your senses. Your fingers almost sink inside, Wasn’t that the plan? 
Cum w-with me? 
Your voice is pleading, tone almost identical to when you would incessantly pester and follow Ellie around Jackson when you were younger. 
Ellie, watch a movie with me? 
Ellie, do a puzzle with me? 
Ellie, go on a walk with me?
Ellie! Ellie! Ellie! 
What used to be innocent invitations have swiftly shifted into something darker, and Ellie needs more. A shocked squeak leaves you when her free hand curls around the back of your neck to smash your lips together. Your hazy mind hadn’t registered Ellie’s fiery stares at your bruised lips, her head tilting in the opposite direction of yours, her nose brushing against yours whenever your fingers made a gooey noise. 
Your eyes flutter shut when her tongue sloppily glides over your bottom lip, moans quenchless where they hit Ellie’s tongue. She swallows them down until they jolt in her stomach, and shoves her hand between her thighs once more. 
Her fingers are drenched and so are yours; there’s nasty, slicked noises everywhere. From you, from Ellie, from the television that’s been forgotten by both of you. 
Ellie’s movements become desperate in a matter of seconds, no longer able to keep up the pace of your kiss. Your separated lips connect only by a thin line of saliva as Ellie gasps hit the skin of your cheek. 
Can’t wait to feel you on me. 
Your euphoria begs to peak at Ellie’s promise, your fingers massaging all the spots that send you to the stars at a desperate pace, trying to match Ellie’s. 
Cum with me, she growls like you did, Cum with me, cum with me, fuck —
Your friend’s name is a prayer on your tongue, shrouded in lust and a longing you’ve forced down to non-existence. You both succumb to pleasure in unison, the pulsing between your thighs synched with hers as she whimpers out. 
I wanna tie you up like that. Tie you up? Beat your ass raw and bloody? Whatever she's looking at, you want. You'll take without hassle. Anything for her. After one glance at the screen, 
Cumming for you, oh shit—
You wring out your high until there’s nothing left to give her, legs closing around your wrist at the aching sensitivity. Ellie’s head falls onto the arch of your knees, lathering your skin in spit-filled kisses, her soaked hand slowing between her legs. 
“Lay down.” 
“H-Hm?” 
“Lay down,” you croak. 
And she does, eyes filled with carnality. 
The porno is long forgotten when your head shoves between Ellie’s legs, the tape stuck on the starter screen while her cries of pleasure blend with the same bullshit accordion. 
You tongue her with fever, drink down all of her heartbreak that she endured while she was away from the source, mark yourself all over the terrain of her until she shatters with a cry of your name. Drenches your mouth, your tongue, your chin. Pushes you away with a cautious hand when you don’t stop. Flinches with sensitivity. 
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“Hold still.” 
You swipe the disinfecting wipe over Ellie’s wound, fresh blood leaking into the white cotton. She assembles new bandages where she sits above you, unraveling the sterile fabric for you to wrap her in.
“I’m trying!” She whines, “It still hurts.” 
“Shouldn’t have tried to ride my face— “
She flicks your forehead so hard, it thumps like a drum, and you wince before playfully biting her finger. 
She snickers and allows you to collect the last bits of blood with the last tarnished rag in your first-aid kit, snagging the bandages from her grasp. She holds down the new gauze and does as she’s told, lifting her thigh on your command as you bind her messy stitches. 
Why did you kiss them, though? 
It lasted 0.5 seconds. A quick, gentle smack meant to soothe, but your brain doesn’t see it that way. Red alarms glow in every crevice of your cerebrum, urging you to move away from your best friend. You stare at Ellie and Ellie stares back, expression no longer readable and easy-going, and you flinch away from her. 
Inviting her over for some innocent porn-watching is one thing… but kissing her without motive? Without the need to progress into something more? It stuns you more than her. You think.
“Sor — sorry — “
Ellie’s already palming at your shoulders, “It’s okay… it’s not a big deal— “
And it’s not. Why does her confirmation bloom a new ache in your chest? 
Your knees pop when you hurriedly stand, and Ellie follows, hands sliding down your arms to grab your hands. 
“Hey…”
You meet her eyes. 
“We’re good… okay? It’s nothing serious.” 
Don’t cry. You agree with a grin. One you pray she doesn’t notice cracks in its corners. She says nothing. Just caresses your cheek in unsaid thanks. Thanks for tonight. Thanks for the distraction. 
Ellie returns a smile before gathering her clothes off the floor. She dresses in silence as you watch with a sorrowful gleam. Is it selfish to ask her to stay? Would it be too much? Should you? Will you?
It’s when she’s tying her boots up that you say something. 
“I can walk you back!” 
“I got it. I’m not going straight home.” 
Ellie’s denial is calm. Gentle. Not abrasive in the slightest, but your hands quiver and heart swells, bound to burst with dejection. Where is she going? The town is sleeping. 
She leaves before you can ask with a promise of seeing you in the morning for breakfast. Nothing unfamiliar, nothing changed. 
Tears rock you to sleep, and you’re not sure why. 
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hysteria-things · 3 days
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DRUNK IN LOVE
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!nate x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your boyfriend has never been so in love. he has to prove it to you somehow.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FILTHY, swearing, jealousy, oral (female receiving), spanking if you squint, overstimulation, dumbification, passing out
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 756
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: day FIVE (🤫) of nate week!
WE ARE SO BACK…
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genuinely, you don’t know how much more you can take, but god it feels so good. your legs are propped over nate’s shoulders, still shaking from your two previous orgasms.
juices coat his mouth and the sheets below, your fingertips massaging his hair. he hasn’t come up for air once, and it’s quite shocking to you.
your twitching lower half grinds into his face, chest heaving as you pant uncontrollably. your parents aren’t home, so you two need to take advantage of that.
the funny thing is, he’s not doing this because you guys got bored. he’s doing this because he saw you and this one kid talking at his lacrosse match… he didn’t like that.
the two of you are a well-known couple around school, so it didn’t take long for everyone to know you’re off limits. guess that one junior didn’t get the memo whatsoever.
before the other team gets to the school and while the stands slowly fill, they warm up as much as they can on the field. a glimpse of you catches nate’s eye, but you’re not alone.
nate stops in his tracks, staring intently at the way whoever that fucking kid is is talking to you. from where he is he can’t hear, but he can tell by the boy’s body language.
you’re too much of a people pleaser to notice, but your boyfriend can notice from a mile away that he’s flirting with you. his hand touches your shoulder while you’re laughing at something he said.
eyes like daggers, nate breathes heavily from anger the more he watches this go down. “nate, man, you good?” one of his teammates asks, jogging in front of him to block his view.
“yeah. i’m fine.”
it’s just the fact that he loves you so much he can’t help himself as he worships your pussy. his pussy, and he’s letting you know that it belongs to him and nobody else.
his tongue licks fast strands up your slit, high-pitched mewls leaving your mouth. “nate.” you sob, hot tears trickling down your face. “nathan.” you repeat, gripping tighter onto his brown locks and arching your back.
usually, he would praise you, but he’s so pussy drunk that he can’t pull away. your mind isn’t the only thing that’s not thinking straight. his isn’t either.
other than your cries and moans, the squelching noises your pussy makes are his favorite sound. he hums hungrily into your cunt, and you exhale when your third release of the night paints his lips that have to be swollen by now.
the view at nate’s eye level is fucking filthy. your poor comforter is drenched, practically ruined at this point. the inside of your thighs glistening with your folds fluttering the rest of your orgasm out onto his chin. this isn’t enough. he needs more.
his muscle enters your sopping hole, all red and used from continuous stimulation. gasping, you close your legs tight around his head and keep them there. this hits a new angle, making him dig deeper… and deeper.
you’re wrecked at this point, absolutely helpless and out of control. “stop it.” you whimper, breathing through your sobs.
with that, his hands grip your calves and spread your legs wider than they were before. “s-stop.” you cry out again.
you desperately try to push his head away, but of course, he doesn’t listen. in fact, he pulls you closer to the point where his nose grazes you clit with each stroke and slaps the outside of your thigh.
screaming, you accept your fate and lay there. he’s eating as if he’s never eaten a meal in his life. your whole body loosens, brain dead, and laying there to take it like you were supposed to do. your lower half is so numb that you don’t feel the other orgasm rip through you.
this time, he takes his lips and sucks at your pussy along with your clit. poor you, so useless and crying with your eyes crossed and tongue sticking out. then, your vision goes black; the rest of you becoming limp.
he kisses your puffy cunt before slowly stopping to catch his breath. a string of saliva mixed with your cum connects from his lips before he breaks it by pulling away.
getting up, he wipes his mouth and makes his way to where your face is. he rubs the tears from your cheeks and kisses the corner of your lips softly, whining before he thrusts into the mattress while cumming in his sweats. again.
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
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mssainz · 2 days
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PART 5 | AFTER FIVE YEARS
Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader
Summary: Carlos Sainz finally met his son he had with her ex-wife, Y/N.
Warning: None
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You woke up from the sunlight radiating from your window. It's been a few days since you and Carlos met. You don't want to talk to him after what happened.
Cael, I want to kick your father's crotch sometimes or maybe pull his wavy hair. Why does he have to be an ass?
It's still seven in the morning and Cael is still sound asleep on his bed. You went to his room and gave him a kiss before going to the kitchen. You have your morning coffee and a bagel, hoping that it would somewhat boost you to start your day.
You were scrolling through your contacts at the counter, when you felt a tiny hand grasping your pajamas. You were startled, almost choking yourself with the bagel. You looked down and saw Cael rubbing his eyes.
“Mama up,” Cael said, spreading his arm towards you. It is Cael's thing. He says that when he wants your attention and affection. He also does this randomly when he feels like you are having a bad day. Cael is an empath we might say.
You lifted Cael and kissed his plump cheeks. His head immediately rests on your shoulder. “Good morning, baby. How's your sleep?”
“Still sleepy Mama,” Cael said groggily.
“My baby is still sleepy. Okay, do you want to go back to bed or do you wanna have breakfast, honey?,” You replied, rubbing Cael's back.
“Breakfast Mama. I want a pancake,” Cael said, still resting his head on your shoulders.
“Okay, will you help Mama make pancakes?” Cael face you and gave you a nod.
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Max, Lando, Carlos, Charles, and Daniel went for a quick break from playing padel. Everyone got their drink and sat down on the foldable chairs under the shade. They are taking their time before the race weekend.
“You're going aggressive with the ball man, huh?” Max said, pertaining to Carlos who is madly attacking whenever the ball touches his racket.
“I have a four-year-old son,” Carlos said, looking blankly at the esky.
“Oh yeah? Well, I have twins, a girl and a boy actually,” Lando said sarcastically, not believing a word Carlos said.
“You met him?” (Max)
“You mean Cael?” (Charles)
“Finally.” (Daniel)
Max, Charles, and Daniel said in chorus. Carlos confusedly looked at the three. On the other hand, Lando is busy gulping every single drop of his drink.
“You guys know Cael?” Carlos replied to the three.
“Who’s Cael? What am I missing?” Lando blurted out. Wiping and licking remnants of his drink on the corner of his lips.
“Yeah,” Max replied.
“What the hell? Since when did you know Cael?” Carlos asks, feeling betrayed.
“Ever since. Like when he was about to turn one.” Charles replied this time.
“What the fuck are you guys talking about?” Lando said, trying to grasp what is going on.
“Why didn't you tell me, you bastards?” Carlos said. He is upset that how come that these guys know about Cael since he was one. But he only got to know him, now that he is already four .
“She wants us to tell no one about Cael, especially you. Plus, it's not our story to tell Carlos. You know that,” Daniel explained.
“But how did you meet him? Li- Like how?” Carlos asks them curiously. He is puzzled how it happened.
“YN contacted us telling us that she wants us to be your son's godfather,” Max said while swirling the RB drink in his hand.
“Godfather? Who among you is Cael's godfather?” Carlos confusedly asked. Max, Charles, and Daniel raised their hands.
“Plus, Lewis,” Daniel added.
“Wait, you and YN have a child? And I, Lando Norris, who is closest to her, is not a godfather?” Lando said in disbelief, summarizing what is happening at least in his point of view. He is feeling more betrayed than Carlos is.
“‘Cause you can't keep your mouth shut, Land,” Max said, rolling his eyes.
“Yeah, you will probably run happily to Carlos and tell him about Cael,” Charles added, teasing Lando.
“Yes. Spitting facts,” Daniel said, agreeing to both of them.
“But, btw how did you know Carlos? Did you meet them already? Did she tell you?” Carles throwing multiple questions.
“We met at the plaza by accident. She told me Cael is mine,” Carlos replied, not mentioning the details how.
“By accident? What happened then?” Daniel said, looking intently at Carlos like a gossip girl.
“Cael got lost at the plaza. I found him and gave him back to her. And you know what? Cael seems to know me. But looking at her reaction when I saw her with Cael, I can tell she doesn't want us to meet that way. So I introduce myself to Cael as Uncle Chilli.”
“Uncle Chilli what the fuck? HAHAHAHA. Cael knows you man. He knows that the Carlos Sainz is his father,” Max replied, laughing his ass off at Carlos.
“So there is still no proper introduction yet?” Charles said while covering Max’s mouth, shutting him up from laughing.
“Yeah, Y/N and I actually had a heated conversation,” Carlos said, almost a whisper.
“Don't tell me you fucked it up again?” Daniel asked, squinting his eyes at Carlos.
“Based on how he play padel, he did fucked up,” Max replied, answering it for him.
“Shut up Max,” Carlos rebuked. He knows he fucked up he don't need the boys shoving it into his face.
“I still don't know what to do. I'm still finding a way to talk to her again, maybe after the Spanish Grand Prix. But I guess, we just need to cool down for now.” Carlos stands up and walks back to the court with his racket.
“Yeah, you need to cool down but try not to smash the ball six feet off the ground!” Max said, not missing a chance to let his thoughts win.
Max and Charles followed Carlos to the court to play another round. Daniel remained sitting down for a bit to rest.
“Hey Lando, come on. What are you sulking about?,” Charles called out for Lando, who was pouting and not blinking.
“I'm not a Godfather,” Lando said, giving him a death stare.
“What the hell?” Charles replied, being done with the whole godfather thing.
“I know what you need to do. Baptize your son again and let me be a godfather. ¡Por favor, Carlos!” Lando yelled out to Carlos at the court. He just sighed and rolled his eyes at Lando, before throwing him the padel ball.
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ohsuguru · 3 days
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hi li shen i’m so late forgive me pls 👴🏽: can i request edging with gojo? making her describe in detail what she wants even tho he knows bc he’s a bastard like that
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satoru who gets his girlfriend to voice her wants in bed, even if it meant edging it out of her ⁀ ❣︎
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˚ʚ minors, ageless and blank blogs dni! ɞ˚
cw: p in v, unprotected sex (pls wrap before you tap), edging, thigh job, dirty talk, spanking, squirting, mean satoru
an: omg omg hihi ❣︎ thanks so much for requesting naomi (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.゚i hope i did your request justice hehe i had so much fun writing it !! i kept getting inspired the more i wrote so thank you again for sending it ~
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"use your words, princess," that sultry, sweet coo of your boyfriend's voice flits to your ears as his large hands guide your hips against his length. "i've taught you well, haven't i?"
your back is pressed against his toned chest, sweat pooling at the bottom of your spine, head thrown back against his broad shoulder. all the motor neurons in your body twitch with arousal and frustration when you feel satoru's cockhead catch against your aching hole before it slips past once again, his mushroom tip peek-a-booing between your thighs.
"uhm– uh–" your mind tries to formulate your instructions to satoru, but it feels like your brain is smothered in cotton, fluffy and dampening your senses - so much so that the only thing you can think of is the way your lover's fingers grip your hips slightly harder to drag you back to reality.
"i jus'- jus' need youu," you hiccup, your voice pitchy and cloying all for satoru's ears.
he couldn't help but think that this was all your fault, really. who asked you to sound so fucked out and lewd, like a siren beckoning him to the depths of your flesh, goading him to sink his throbbing cock into your soft and warm core. who asked you to sound so needy that he can't help but want to edge you and edge you and edge you?
"i know that, baby girl," satoru hums, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he slows down his movements, the drop in friction making you push your hips down against his length, trying to get him to pick his speed back up. "but i need you to tell me exactly what you want. i don't know what goes on in that pretty head of yours."
you can't help but dig your nails into the pale skin of his arms, a frustrated whine leaving your drool-slicked, kiss-bitten lips.
"i- i want you in me," you try again, making your instructions clearer for the cheeky white-haired sorcerer. "wan' you to fill me up."
"yes, but what do you want in you, princess?" he giggles - the audacity of this man to giggle - his large hand dragging up your body to tilt your head to face him as his other one disappears down between your thighs. 
"do you want my fingers?" he continues, his thick digits swirling against your swollen clit, your boyfriend humming when he feels that pearly nub twitch and harden under his touch. he swirls it, and circles it before he parts your lower lips, index and middle finger spreading your sensitive flesh.
the spreading of your labia slots his thick length against you more, coating his cock in more your sweetened juices as he bucks his hips, the sudden action jolting that squeak he loves so much.
"or do you want my cock?" satoru grins lecherously, his twinkling blue eyes taking in your lewd expression. the fingers on your face push your maw apart, forcing you to speak.
"your cock! satoru, please," you immediately plead, voice cracking, eyebrows pinching into the middle of your forehead, sweat pricking at your hairline. "pretty please."
"see? that wasn't so hard now, was it?"
of course, satoru wouldn't praise you for voicing your wants, not when he knew exactly what you needed. your boyfriend knew your body better than you did, where to push your buttons, how to bend and mold your body to his needs and desires.
but what he never said in words, he always made up with his actions.
satoru pushes his aching length into your warm pussy, the sensation dragging out a satisfied moan from the two of you. but what you don't realise through your lust-filled haze is that satoru had also been edging himself as much as he has been edging you. the self-restraint this man has is unwavering, especially when it came to you. 
satoru was long, veiny, and had the most wicked curve to his cock, pressing against that sweet spot within your cunt without him even needing to try.
carved by the gods, just for you.
but just when you thought his edging marathon was over, he completely stills in you, dick buried to the hilt in your gummy walls.
"what do you want now, princess?" satoru asks, head tilting to the side like a cat who's cornered a mouse. "and i need you to tell me in painful detail, okay, baby?"
you swallow thickly, core stretched out around him as you try to take charge instead, pushing your hips down. the veins on his cock drags against your gummy walls, pulling out a relieved whine from your lips as you ride his dick slightly, a reprieve, a shining light at the end of the tunnel.
until satoru completely snuffs it out by gripping your hips strongly, completely stilling your movement. 
"nuh-uh, baby," he tsks through a mischievous giggle. "you gotta listen to me. so i'm going to ask you again, whaddya want?"
"ugh– i want– i want you t'fuck me," you groan out, eyes fluttering as your mind plays out first what you wanted before your pretty voice tells satoru. "i want you to– to use me roughly..."
"and then?" he probes, a shiver travelling down his spine when you finally give in to what your lover wants. hearing you talk so dirtily always made him harder than a rock. his fingers travel down to your pussy, using your body almost as a fidget toy, tapping your clit idly, a tacky sound echoing through the room.
"i wanna feel your– your cock drag through my cunt. tip fucking my cervix and your fingers playing with my clit, and– and– and then i want you t'fill me up with your cum–"
"woah, princess," he cuts you off, head dropping to your neck as he drags his tongue up the expanse of your throat, committing the taste of your skin to his mind as if he could never get enough of it. "aren't you a lewd thing? who knew you had such a dirty mouth on ya? you've been hiding that from–"
"satoru, just fuck me!"
and to get your point across even more, you clench around him tightly, trying to get him to move along. your boyfriend did always talk too much sometimes.
"jeez, okay," satoru relents with a roll of his eyes, his hand leaving your hips briefly to run it through his dampened hair. "but just so you know, you asked for this."
satoru immediately flips you onto your front, smushing your face into his pillow as he pistons his hips into yours. it's salacious, the sounds that he's dragging out from your body, squelch after squelch, your moans muffled by his pillow as you bite down into it, drool pooling from the sides of your mouth.
he fucked you like a rabid dog, leg propped up beside your perked-up ass, using that leverage to do exactly what you wanted. his bulbous tip drags through your cunt, stretching it out for the rest of his length, veiny skin adding to the friction of it all. his fingers move to your clit, bullying the swollen nub, pinching and circling it, pooling arousal from your body which creates a white ring at the base of his cock, the sight sinful and arousing for your boyfriend.
"toru– hahh– thank you, s'ank you!" your words melt into an almost incoherent babble as your orgasm flares up quickly after being edged for so long. satoru pushes your back down more, arching your body up as he gives your ass a spank, getting you to keep that position. the zing of pain jolts your body, sending your pussy clenching around him more, sucking him into your cervix.
the curve in his dick smushes against your g-spot, sloppily making out with it until you momentarily pass out with a loud cry of his name, bed rocking with the pure force of your orgasm, body going completely limp if it wasn't for the way satoru was holding your hips up.
your squirt completely sends him over the edge as he finishes soon after, painting your wet insides with white-hot cum, filling you up to the brim just like you asked. so much so, it seeps out of your sopping cunt despite his dick still buried inside, his gaze trained on the mix of your essences dripping out.
satoru pulls out his softening cock, the plug of his length no longer keeping everything inside as it bubbles out of your twitching hole which causes him to tch unhappily. 
"i thought you said you wanted me to fill you up with my cum, princess. i guess i better stuff my fingers in you to keep it there, huh?"
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if u think i’m pretty || chris sturniolo
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SMUT. 18+. Minors DNI. tw: hate fucking. lots of it. bickering while fucking? idk you get the gist. finally got around to writing about chris. can you believe i scrapped like 5 fics? 🥴 yeah me either! also, sequel with matt if yall want it ;)
“Christopher fucking Sturniolo!”
Your words were laced with venom, the staircase rumbling beneath you as you stomped upstairs. Faintly you could hear Matt call out for you, your mind too filled with rage to hear him properly.
Pornographic moans flooded your eardrums as you reached Chris’s room, your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head. Your closed fist rattled his door, the dramatic moans coming to a screeching halt.
“Open the fucking door dickwad!” You screamed. Impatiently you tapped your foot, deciding he was taking too long. You grabbed the door handle, (surprised to find it unlocked), and swung the door open.
It was almost comical watching Chris and a girl you didn’t know scramble to get themselves dressed.
“What the fuck are you doing in here? Get the fuck out! Haven’t you ever heard of privacy?” Chris spat, shoving his gray sweatpants on. For a brief moment you felt bad for the girl, her waterline filling with tears. She was just one of many you had seen this week. You grabbed a shirt you presumed to be hers, handing it to her. You took a deep breath, containing your anger as you looked at her.
“Please get dressed and for the love of God, find someone better to fuck,” You sighed. The blonde was gone in a flash, practically sprinting out of Chris’s room. You crossed your arms, shooting lasers out of your eyes as you glared at the brunette across from you. Oh, only if looks could kill.
“I’m not believing my phone magically teleported into the dishwasher of all places,” You snarled. Your phone had been missing for six hours straight, your iphones location still saying it was at the triplets house. You had dragged Matt and Nick all around their house, searching from the ceiling to the floor. When you had finally accepted defeat, you had opened the dishwasher to grab a bowl to make a snack.
And to your displeasure, your phone was sopping wet, sitting in plain sight on the rack.
“You have zero proof I did that, literally zero,” Chris argued. Your eyes briefly flickered to his exposed chest, the amount of skin throwing you off. You shook your head, showing Chris your ruined phone. “Really? Because I can’t recall the last time you did dishes but you magically did them last night,” You snapped. Chris shrugged nonchalantly, a cocky smirk creeping across his lips.
“What can I say? I figured i’d help out the household,”
That’s it.
You chucked your phone at him, the brunette dodging the attack by seconds. It was ruined away, even the rice method was unable to save your phone. It smacked against the wall, the sound making Chris jump. “Maybe your phone wouldn’t be ruined if you weren’t having very LOUD phone sex with your boyfriend!” Chris yelled. You threw your hands up in the air, completely dumbfounded. “What are you talking about? Why would I ever-” You began arguing, before it clicked.
You weren’t having phone sex with anyone, that was for sure. But you stayed over at the Sturniolo household frequently, to the point where you were there more often than you were home. As much as Chris drove you insane, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. The concept of the attraction being forbidden, soured by years and years of bickering, did something inside of you.
You could feel heat rushing to your cheeks, even though you didn’t want it to. Chris snickered at your loss of words, shooting you a genuine smile. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” He teased. In a swift motion you dashed across the room, your palm connecting with his cheek. Your tension with Chris had never gone beyond yelling. He had never crawled under your skin so much before, embarrassment seeping over you as you thought about the whole house hearing what he said.
A long pause silenced the room, the sound of the slap echoing through out your ears. Chris took a moment to process what you had just done, before his sharp gaze meant yours. His hand flew to your throat, gripping the sides as he threw you against the nearest wall. The air was knocked out of your lungs, your body in fight or flight mode. He easily towered over you, his sharp blue eyes filled with rage.
“You’re such a fucking whore,” Chris grumbled. He squeezed the sides of your neck harder, a whimper escaping your lips. His grip loosened, his attention fully dedicated to the sound you had made. The brunette tilted his head to the side curiously, as if he hadn’t believed what he just heard. “Did you just whimper?” He questioned. You shook your head no, Chris’s knee spreading your legs apart. Testing the waters, he brought his face closer to yours.
“You know, your little stunt prevented me from finishing earlier. Perhaps you’d like to help me out,” Chris purred, the glint of lust in your eyes telling him everything he needed to know. You rolled your eyes, your heart beginning to race as his body pressed against yours. “If you’re going to kiss me get on with it before I change my mind,” You said plainly. Chris’s grip on your throat tightened, your airway becoming restricted.
“You’ve always been a mouthy one,” He muttered, roughly bringing his lips to yours.
Chris hated how good you tasted, how good you smelled. He hated how your skin always looked so soft, your lips so plump. He despised how confident you were, always charging into everything in your life head first. What Chris actually liked, was that you challenged him. He knew that his infatuation with you wasn’t actually feelings, just raw and untamed lust. But fuck, with your lips against his, it made him want to change his mind.
The two of you clawed off each other’s clothes, discarding the clothing to the floor. Chris’s tongue swiped across your lower lip, before sliding inside. His kisses were rough and sloppy, your body addicted to the electricity he made run down your spine. You pushed him harshly against the bed, his back hitting the soft mattress underneath him.
You straddled him quickly, attempting to take control of the situation. Ever so slowly you grinded your wet cunt against his exposed shaft, a groan escaping his lips. Chris cockily put his hands behind his head, admiring you. “Go ahead, get yourself off just by grinding on me. You can do it pretty girl,” Chris instructed. You felt heat dash across your cheeks at the sound of his praise, your hips moving seemingly on their own.
Curses left your lips as you threw your head back. “Making me get myself off since you can’t do it? Figures,” You managed to say, your movements becoming more desperate. Chris leaned forward on his elbows, watching your cunt slide up and down his shift. “I’d watch your words ma, i’ll overstimulate you until you’re nothing but a cock craving whore,” Chris warned. His warning felt real, the threat in it seeking genuinely true. Even if you didn’t want to believe it.
Chris bit his bottom lip as you shamelessly grinded against him, every little movement providing pleasure to your clit. “You really think i’d fuck as many girls as I do if I couldn’t make them cum? I thought you were supposed to be smart,” Chris said coldly, mockingly tilting his head to the side. Your gaze landed back on the man beneath you, ignoring his cock in between your folds. “Yeah? I thought I was supposed to be overstimulated by now. What happened to that?” You challenged.
He was quick to change positions, your back landing against the mattress before you could think. He roughly spread your thighs apart, shoving two fingers into your cunt. A gasp of surprise was ripped from your throat, his spare hand resuming its place as your personal collar. Chris’s name spilled off of your lips as his fingers curled inside of you, his name becoming a sinful mantra. “What happened? Not so cocky now are we?” Chris taunted, watching you fall apart on his fingers.
The sight of you was enough to make his cock throb, his body craving attention. Chris remained focused, determined to corrupt you. “Open your fucking mouth slut,” Chris ordered. You so without a second thought, flattening your tongue across your bottom lip. He gripped your face harshly, leaning over and spitting into your mouth. “Swallow it,” He growled, watching you intently. You did as you were told, swallowing his saliva. You felt humiliated as it slid down your throat, the feeling euphoric.
“Thats a good girl, now why don’t you cum on my fingers for me? Hmm?” Chris asked. His words of praise made the rope inside of you snap, your orgasm washing over you without warning. Your vision went white, your thighs trembling as Chris removed his fingers from your aching cunt. You watched as he sucked them clean, maintaining eye contact with you as he did so.
Still coming down from your high, you put every last bit of energy into rolling your eyes. “Are you going to fuck me or just stare?” You asked. Chris’s cocky smile fell, replaced with a frown. “Nothings ever good enough for you, is it?” He replied, crawling on top of you. He brushed the tip of his cock up and down your folds teasingly, enjoying hearing you audibly whine for him. “Why’d you destroy my phone?” You asked, your coherent thoughts interrupted by him shoving himself inside of you.
You both moaned in unison, the unholy sounds vibrating off of the walls. “Why’d you decide to have phone sex in my house?” Chris gritted out, sliding himself further into you. He had more girth than you expected, your walls struggling to accommodate his size. “I asked you first dipshit,” You spat, fighting back a groan as he slid in further. Chris could feel your walls spasming around his cock, the sensation enough to make him cum right then and there. But he knew you’d never let him live it down.
“Yeah? Well I asked you second,” Chris replied, bottoming out inside of you. The tip of his shaft brushed against your g spot, the slightest movement of his hips making you whimper. “If you must know I wasn’t having phone sex, dumbass,” You said honestly. Chris pulled his hips back at a teasing rate, entertaining the argument. “Yeah? So what were you doing?” He questioned, doubting what you were saying. His hips bucked back into yours, hitting your g spot purposefully slow. He was drawing his thrust out, enjoying the sight of you squirming beneath him.
“I-I was thinking of you, alright? Now are you going to fuck me or what?” You rambled, embarrassed by your confession. Chris paused for a moment, soaking in your words. He leaned forward, his breath hot against your ear. “Is that so? Well, I destroyed your phone because I got jealous. You belong under me, just like this, taking my cock,” Chris purred, ignoring the embarrassment of his own confession. He pulled back slightly, allowing the two of you to make eye contact.
Out of breath and desperate, both of you panted as you stared into each other’s eyes. “Well, in that case, you better get on with it,” You said weakly. The same cocky smile that you hated plastered across his lips, his hips bucking into yours quickly. Your nails dug into his back as his hips continued to slam into yours, his cock buried inside of your cunt. Chris couldn’t hold back his own groans, your walls milking his cock dry.
With glazed eyes he met your gaze, relishing in the sound of your groans, chanting his name. “Open your mouth for me,” He ordered, his cock abusing your cervix. Chris enjoyed that you didn’t hesitate, obeying him without a second thought. He put two fingers into your mouth, shoving them as far back as he could. “Now fucking suck them slut,” He growled. With each degrading word you squeezed him harder, your body snitching on your hidden desire.
“You look so pretty like this, when you aren’t yapping that mouth of yours,” He huffed. A painful whine came from his lips, your nails purposefully digging deeper into his back. You pathetically bobbed your head up and down on his fingers, concealing your smirk as you heard him in audible pain. Chris slithered his spare hand down to your cunt, drawing fast and sloppy circles around your clit.
“Go on, cum for me. Cum on my cock like the good girl you are for me,” Chris panted. The extra sensation was enough to make you throw your head back, Chris’s fingers still lodged in your mouth. Your warning of your orgasm was muffled, your thighs shaking violently under him. The sight was going to be burned into Chris’s memory forever, the feeling of your cunt spasming around him giving him an undeniable ego boost. He fucked you through your orgasm, becoming preoccupied with chasing his own.
His fingers roughly grabbed your waist, fucking you rougher. “Shit, i’m gonna cum,” He admitted. Chris watched, mesmerized as his cock slid in and out of your cunt. “Where do you want it?” He asked, his hips beginning to stutter. You grabbed him by his throat, dragging him towards you. You put your mouth next to his ear, smirking as you told him, “Inside of me.”
You filthy fuck. For the first time your name fell from Chris’s lips as he came, his warm seed flooding your cunt. In unison you both tried to catch your breath, Chris carefully slipping out of you. The room was silent, besides desperate breathing, a knock came from Chris’s door.
“Yeah?”
“Your uh, doordash is here dude,” Matt said awkwardly. You could hear him place a bag in front of his bedroom door. “Thanks,” Chris replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.
“Hey Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“Next time maybe fuck a little quieter, Nicks pretty pissed.”
You exchanged glances with Chris, watching as he shoved on a shirt.
“You heard him, be quiet next time,”
“Next time? There won’t be a next time. Mr.I lasted thirty seconds.”
The sound of you two bickering made Matt roll his eyes, causing him to walk away. He wondered if you both would ever get married, or if you both would hate fuck forever. He shrugged at the idea, heading back downstairs. All Matt knew for sure, was that your moans made him cum the hardest he ever had. And that, was enough for him.
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taasgirl · 2 days
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lover - oscar piastri
summary: y/n is a songwriter who writes plenty of songs however no one realizes that they're made by her (and about oscar hehe)!
a/n: the outcomes of the races are fictional, and the order in which these songs have been written (assume fearless was written this year ygwim?). also no face claim!!
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liked by yukitsunoda, oscarpiastri, and 33, 287 others ynusername romance is not dead if you keep it just yours! lovelovelove being able to come home for race day!! i'm so proud of u osc 🩷
oscarpiastri I'm so lucky 🥰 liked by ynusername
user27633 Y/N IS A SWIFTIE CONFIRMED!?!?!
ynusername of course!!
user16372 u literally take the cutest photos of oscar
user82537 y/n quoting paris... i'm so up
yukitsunoda 😆😆
landonorris You're my favourite wag
ynusername wow how considerate
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liked by taylorswift, landonorris, and 1, 287, 387 others oscarpiastri Unwinding before Japan 👊
ynusername tehee we're cute
oscarpiastri You're cuter landonorris Get a room
taylorswift ooooh she's working hard @ ynusername
user62584 WHAT THE FUCK ARE U DOING HERE???
user98274 OSCAR IS FRIENDS WITH TAYLOR HUH
user61192 i did not expect to see taylor in the comments of oscar's post tagging y/n!
user92898 no fr like what is going on
user93829 Everyone shut up about taylor look at the beauty that is y/n omd
view ynusername's story...
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liked by jackantonoff, phoebebridgers, and 55, 918, 278 others taylorswift In honour of my album 'The Tortured Poets Department' release a week ago, I wanted to thank my biggest musical inspirations! Thank you Jack, Lana, and Y/N for helping me the best artist I could possibly be, without you'd guys I'd be nowhere (thank you y/n for writing the cheesiest, cutest, sexiest songs ever)!!
user51862 who is y/n
user01827 She's dating f1 driver oscar piastri but also now apparently a songwriter idk...
user72973 Wdym thanks y/n for writing?? you're telling me the twitter stans were right??
user62863 y/n is singlehandedly uniting f1 and the swifties
ynusername thank u tay 💓💓
user52868 Girl has been living a double life
user51929 ohhh so this is why taylor was commenting on oscar's post😭
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liked by oscarpiastri, taylorswift, and 108, 276 others ynusername well now that the cat is out of the bag, who wants to hear a story? i assume u all said yes.
on one of our first dates, oscar made me a bracelet (yes that one) and i thought (and still think) that it was one of the most romantic gestures. so obviouslyyy i wrote 'lover' about him hehe. yes we only knew each other for at most three months when i wrote it, but i love him so much, he's my forever.
oscarpiastri I love having a singer for a girlfriend (wife one day)
ynusername hello cat boy
user18739 You're telling me that taylor's most romantic song is literally written by my favourite wag about my favourite driver?? i might pass out
ynusername haha yes! i write a lot of songs for tay
landonorris So this song is basically about ur delusions liked by ynusername
user52863 oh now i need to know exactly what songs you've written
user20939 AND PLEASE RECORD COVERS OF THEM TOO
lilymhe wait so you've been friends with taylor the whole time...
lilymhe AND THE SONG THAT I WANT PLAYED AT MY WEDDING IS WRITTEN ABOUT OSCAR?? ynusername oh my god lily HAHA
let me know if you liked this!! i know it's super short but i'm seriously lacking inspo and ideas omd. also i literally love oscar so much.
i'm also working on a few reqs, so if you have a suggestion or request, let me know because i'd love to do it!!
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f1goat · 1 day
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more than friends ; lando norris + part twelve
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In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.
masterlist - playlist
fem!y/n x lando norris
warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.
requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things
part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine / part ten / part eleven
“Fuck.” Lando can’t hold back this time. The word leave his mouth before he can think about it. He wants to intervene, but he knows he can’t. If it was up to him, he would drag you away and fuck you until you can’t even spell Pierre anymore, but that’s not something he can do. At least, not anymore. He fucked it up. 
Oscar sends him a pitiful look, but doesn’t say anything. His teammate knows that something has changed between Lando and you, but he doesn’t know what. Oscar wishes he knew, he feels like he needs to help the two of you before everything is broken. He keeps looking at Lando, waiting for him to snap and to say something, but nothing happens. All of Lando his focus is on you - and on Pierre who’s dancing with you. 
Lando sighs. He wants to cry. If he thinks about what happened long enough, then maybe he’ll cry for real. He feels the gaze of Oscar his eyes burning on his back. Maybe he should talk with his teammate. Maybe Oscar can help? He doubts it, but there are no other options. Maybe Oscar is his last hope. When he turns himself to Oscar, the boy is already waiting for him to speak up. 
“I think I lost her,” Lando stammers. He has never said words like this before, never have words felt this painful to say out loud, it breaks him down even further. 
“What happened?” Oscar asks. 
“I fucked it up,” Lando sighs. 
+++
“Lan?” “Yeah?”
“I uh, I was wondering how this will continue between us?” You ask a bit careful, “I mean are we going to continue to have sex or are we going back to how things where? It feels like you’ve learned me quite a lot and I don’t know what will happen now, you know?” The words are coming out like a mess, you can only hope that Lando understands what you mean. Maybe this is your coward way of asking Lando if he wants to make things different. 
Lando doesn’t know what to say. He realizes that this is the moment to come clean about his feelings for you, but he doesn’t. “Uh, we can continue like this?” He suggests at first. 
“But what will happen then?” You ask, “How will it affect our friendship?”
“The same as now, right?” Lando doesn’t know where you’re going with the questions. 
“But we can’t always stay friends who fuck, right?” You question. An annoyed feeling creeps up. Why doesn’t Lando understand your deeper meaning? 
“There are plenty people who do so, it’s called friends with benefits,” Lando informs you. He almost slaps himself for telling it so casual, why isn’t he confessing about his feelings? Why can’t he find the right words and tell you? 
“I know what that is,” you sigh, “but do you want that for us? What will happen if you meet another girl? Or if you’re done with me? I mean it feels like some sort of endless situation which will only slow us down at one point. What if our friendship gets in the way?”
Lando tries to follow all the questions, but he doesn’t know if every one of them actually got into his mind. It feels like it’s all too much. What are you saying? Why are you talking about him with another girl? Does that mean you want to search for a boyfriend yourself? In some weird way he convinces himself that it must mean that you want a boyfriend - someone else then him. 
“You can just say so if you want a boyfriend and want to stop this with me,” he eventually snickers to you. 
You show Lando a confused look. “That’s not what I’m saying?” You react surprised.
“No, but it is what you actually mean with your words, isn’t it?” Lando continues. He feels himself getting frustrated. Why did he even have hope that things would end different? Suddenly he’s glad that he didn’t confess his feelings, you would have turned him down anyway. 
“Lan, that’s bullshit,” you reply a bit annoyed, “I’m just saying that this is an hopeless situation. I need some clearance.” 
“Okay, here is your clarity,” Lando spits the words out, “We’re not fucking anymore, we’re just friends and you can find yourself some boyfriend to fuck with.” His voice gets louder with every word he says. What he doesn’t notice until it’s too late, is the way you look at him. Tears are rolling over your cheeks. 
“If that’s what you want,” you softly mutter, “then that’s fine.”
Lando doesn’t think before he talks. He speaks up with only angry and frustrated feelings inside of him to do the thinking right now. “Apparently it’s what you want,” he states angrily. 
“I uh, I need some time for myself,” you softly say, barely being able to hold back your cries. “I’ll see you later in the club.”
With those words you walk away from Lando. He watches you leave. It almost feels like some stupid movie scene. Lando watches how you walk away from him, dressed in a beautiful dress - that was already starring in his plans for when the two of you came back to the hotel room tonight. He feels a small tear rolling down on his cheek. Why did you leave? No, he can’t ask himself a question as stupid as that. You left because he accused you of the most stupid shit, just because he was too afraid to tell you about his feelings. Again. Fuck, he should have told you. He thinks about running after you, but when he opens the door he notices that you’re already gone. 
He wonders how you’re going to the club, since you told him that you’d see him there. How are you going to get there in a strange country where you don’t know anyone expect a few drivers? Lando sighs. He starts to worry about you. Hurriedly he changes his outfit and makes himself ready to also head to the club. He needs to make things right. 
+++
“Fuck man,” Oscar sighs, “That’s so fucking stupid.”
“I know,” Lando confesses, “I don’t know what I was thinking.. Fuck. How am I going to fix this?”
Oscar doesn’t respond at first. It gives Lando the time to take another look at you again. You’re still dancing with Pierre. The Alpine driver is almost pressed against your body, Lando feels himself getting angry. Why him? You have been with Pierre since Lando saw you again. The looks you send him when he tried to approach you said enough. You’re not in the mood to talk with him. 
“Just confess mate,” Oscar eventually says, “You can’t make things worse right? Just explain everything to her.” 
“But.”
“No buts,” Oscar interrupts, “just be honest with her.” 
Lando sighs. He can’t look away from you. He notices the way Pierre moves his head to get closer to your neck so he can press his lips against it. Lando hopes his marks are still somewhere on your body. Fuck, that seems really territorial, but he can’t blame himself for thinking like this. 
“Lando, go to her,” Oscar states again, “Staring and acting like some mad caveman won’t help you.” 
He sees Pierre moving again. This time holding you closely in front of himself. It looks like he wants to kiss you. Is he going to try to kiss you? Fuck. Lando wants to do many things. Walk away and stop watching so he can’t see it happen or walking as fast as he can towards you and pull you away from Pierre. When he continues to watch, he notices that you finally seek eye contact with him. Then he notices your look. Are you asking him for help? It seems like you’re really uncomfortable. Or is he just imagining things to make this better for himself? 
Lando stops thinking. He almost sprints towards you and Pierre, leaving Oscar by himself while doing so. When he’s standing in front of you, he still doesn’t think about his next movements. Lando grabs your wrist, pulls you towards himself and tries to walk away with you. 
“What the fuck are you doing?” You ask him. 
“Mate fuck off,” Pierre sneers, “you’ve had your chance.” 
“Lando, you can’t just drag me away from Pierre. It doesn’t work like that!” You yell annoyed. A small part in you hopes that Lando does drag you away from Pierre. After all, the only reason you’re dancing this close with Pierre is to cause a reaction by Lando. But you don’t know what will happen after.
“Watch me,” Lando grunts. Easily he lifts you up and puts you halfway on his shoulder. Holding you close he starts to walk away from Pierre. “Can’t just drag you away,” he mutters annoyed, “As if I’m going to look at him with my girl any longer.” He puts his hand on your ass, making sure no one can see anything from underneath your dress. The small gesture makes you smile.
When he passes Oscar, he notices the way his teammate is almost laughing out loud. “Fucking caveman,” Oscar is quick to tell him before Lando continues walking with you on his shoulder. “Just confess!” Oscar yells when Lando walks away from him. 
You really don’t know what to think right now. Yes, you did want a reaction from Lando. Yes, you did want to annoy him until he would finally snap. But did you want it to end up like this? You don’t know if you’re honest. Not that you expected such a big reaction from Lando. He literally put you onto his shoulders to take you away with him. That seems a bit much, right? When Lando reaches his rental car, he opens the passenger door and puts you down on the ground again. It’s obvious that he wants you to take place in the car, but you don’t. 
“Y/N,” Lando groans, “I swear to god, go sit in the fucking car.” 
“Why?” You ask him. 
“Because we’re going to talk.”
“We did talk,” you sigh, “and you made yourself perfectly clear. We’re not fucking anymore so I can find myself a boyfriend, since that’s what I want according to you.”
“Correction, I’m going to fuck away this terrible attitude of yours and then we’re going to talk.”
You don’t say anything. Maybe because this is kinda what you wanted? Who can blame you. Lando is fucking hot when he’s mad. Quietly you step in to the car.
The car ride is in an awkward silence. Lando his hand lays on your thigh. It feels like he’s marking you as his with the simple move, but you don’t know who he expects to reach since it’s just to two of you. His eyes are switching between you and the road. You’re also looking at him. At first you tried not to since you’re mad at him, but when you gave him a small look you couldn’t stop anymore. 
The harsh conversation between the two of you isn’t longer then a couple hours ago, but you can see it’s impact on Lando. Or maybe it’s the impact from watching at Pierre and you? At first you never knew when Lando cried or how to spot the signs that he was about to. But after being his friend for so many years, you now know. Lando looks like a mess. Your mess. 
It feels weird when you enter Lando and yours hotel room again. Both of you don’t know what to say. It makes you annoyed when Lando keeps pacing around and doesn’t say anything. And doesn’t fuck you. 
“I thought you were going to do something?” You ask him, “Or do I need to get myself back to Pierre to get fucked?” You don’t know where you found those words and how they end up leaving your mouth, but at least Lando isn’t pacing around anymore. 
He feels like he lost all of his sanity right now. Lando rushes towards you and harshly lifts you up again, only to throw you onto the bed. He turns you so you’re laying on your stomach and pulls you closer to himself. Within seconds your dress is pulled up and Lando his bottoms are hanging around his legs. He tugs on your thongs until they fall apart. Satisfied he looks at your snapped string. 
Before you can say anything about it, Lando makes sure that your ass is lifted in the air. Without any sort of warning or foreplay he lets his dick enter you. It causes you to let out a loud scream, “Fuck Lando!” He doubts for a bit about himself and his actions, but when you follow that scream with multiple moans, his doubts are quick to disappear. He fucks you without thinking about being soft, nice or anything like that. It’s animalistic. He has lost all his patience and can only focus on fucking you as hard as he can manage. 
“Fucking slut,” he grunts when he hears a loud moan from you. 
“Your slut, sir,” you say softly. You almost don’t dare to say it. When you feel Lando his pace decreasing, you feel ashamed of your words.
“What did you just say?” Lando asks you. He’s barely fucking you anymore, rarely he moves his dick in and out of you. He needs to make sure that he heard you right. 
“Your slut, sir,” you tell him again.
“Fuck,” Lando mutters, “Only mine?” 
“Yes,” you agree with him.
“Not Pierre’s?” Lando continues to ask.
“No,” you quickly state, “Wanted you to snap.”
Lando lets out a low chuckle after hearing your words. You wanted him to snap? He doesn’t know what you mean with that, but he does know you just said that Pierre’s not even close to him. He pulls back a bit, letting his dick leave your body. It causes you to let out a soft whine. Lando turns you around and looks at you. You already look fucked out. 
“Baby girl,” Lando mutters softly, “You’re the actual worst.” Lando stays silent for a couple seconds before speaking up again. “Should punish you for those actions,” he says. 
“What’s stopping you?” You ask Lando. 
“You,” Lando chuckles. 
You show Lando a confused look. What does he mean with that? Lando takes place to you next on the bed. Softly he grabs your waist and pulls you on his lap. Careful he presses a few kisses against your neck and shoulders. He moves his hands on your body. Kneading your tits and softly pulling on your nipples. It causes you to let out multiple soft moans and whines. You want - no need, more of him. 
“Lan,” you softly speak up. 
“I know, I know,” Lando replies, “but be patient baby.”
“Aren’t you mad anymore?” You ask confused. You still don’t get why Lando is all calmed down after your confession of using Pierre to make him snap. Could it be that he feels more calm now he knows that you only think about him?
“What did you mean with making me snap?” Lando asks you. 
“What you just did,” you explain, “fucking me like you own me. Snapping at Pierre and me, dragging me away only to show me and everyone else that you think I belong to you. Showing how you actually feel. Just waiting for you to tell me.”
You know you’re passing the safe way back now. With everything you just said, Lando can probably fill in the blanks himself. It should be pretty obvious now how you feel about him. You can only hope that you got Lando his feelings right as well. You’re putting a lot of fate in Oscar right now. In the mean time you move yourself, getting off Lando his lap and taking a seat next to him on the bed.
After your earlier discussion with Lando, you left and got to Oscar his hotel room. Together with him you made up this plan. Oscar was sure that only a bit of dancing with Pierre would make Lando snap within minutes. It took a bit longer, but eventually Oscar was right. Now he only has to be right about Lando his feelings for you…
“You want that?” Lando asks you confused. 
You only show him a small nod. 
“You really wanted me to act like this?” Lando continues to ask, he still can’t believe it. When you nod again, Lando doesn’t stop with his questions. “You actually wanted me to act like some sort of jealous caveman?” 
“I didn’t expect you to put me onto your shoulder,” you confess, “but I wanted you to show me that I belong to you.”
“Why?” Lando asks confused, “I really don’t get it babygirl. Like, I don’t even understand why I’m acting like this and I actually feel ashamed for it - but you, you like it? You want this?”
“It gives me hope,” you tell Lando. 
“Hope?” He asks confused.
“Hope that you like me back.”
Lando doesn’t know if he hears you correct. Did you actually say that it gives you the hope that he likes you back? Likes you back? That means that you like him, right? Lando really can’t wrap his head around everything that’s happening right now. He thought you would be mad at him. Mad for the way he acted earlier today and for what he said. Mad for the way he acted in the club. But you are glad that he acted this way and you’re telling him that you like him? Is this even real? Isn’t he still standing in the club, looking at Pierre dancing with you and imagining this to make it feel better? He can’t even help himself and softly pinches some skin on his arm. 
“I’ve said too much,” you say when Lando keeps quiet, “The hint is clear Lan. Sorry for the way I acted. Sorry for falling for you, I hope we still can be friends?” 
Just when Lando thought he was finally processing everything you just said, you’re saying stuff like this. He thinks about telling you how much he likes you too, but eventually he lets his actions speak for himself. Softly he grabs your shoulders and pulls you back on his lap again. This time you’re turned the way he can properly face you. Lando softly puts his finger underneath your chin and lifts your face up a bit. Then he presses his lips against yours. He kisses you the most loving way he can. 
When Lando puts his lips onto yours, you wonder if this means what you think it does. Is this Lando his way of showing you that he does like you back? 
You show Lando a small grin when he pulls back and looks at you. “I never want to be friends with you again,” Lando mutters with a cheeky smile. If he wasn’t smiling like crazy, you would have stressed right now. “I really need you to be my girlfriend babygirl,” Lando continues, “and I really need everyone to know that you’re mine so they will finally stop flirting with you.” 
“You want me to be your girlfriend?” You ask Lando with a happy expression. 
“I need you to be my girlfriend,” he states. 
“Okay boyfriend,” you reply. 
“But now I really want to feel your cunt around my dick again,” Lando tells you cheekily. You let out a soft laugh. You position yourself a bit different, then you line up Lando his boner with your entrance and slowly let him enter you again. 
+++
The following morning Lando patiently waits for you to wake up as well. He hasn’t slept as good as last night in a couple months. He feels ten times better then before. It’s mostly a relieved feeling now that the two of you finally confessed. When you open your eyes slowly, you notice that Lando is already awake and staring at you. 
“Good morning girlfriend,” Lando whispers when you look at him. 
You show him a small smile. “Good morning boyfriend,” you reply.
Lando presses a soft kiss against your lips. “I can get used to this,” he tells you. 
“You better do,” you laugh, “It’s not like I’m going to let go of you anytime soon.”
“I love you,” Lando sighs relieved. “Oh that’s probably a bit soon to say,” he adds quickly after realizing what he just said. 
“I love you too Lan,” you tell him, “and I think you could have said it way sooner.” 
Lando grins. He pulls you close towards himself and hugs you. “I could fall asleep all over again, but we have a flight to catch.”
Later that afternoon when the two of you are sitting in the plane, Lando has been quite busy on his phone. You look curious at him, wondering what he’s doing. Before you can ask him, Lando speaks up. “I’m going to hard launch us,” he states, “Okay?”.
“Okay.”
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a/n;
that was it everyoneee :') hope y'all liked this story
i do want to write further, but for this moment i have no inspiration about what i'm going to write now (expect that it's about lando ofc). so any idea is welcome ! thanks for all the likes, comments & reblogs
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531 notes · View notes
leah-lover · 2 days
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Two hearts one timeline. Alexia putellas x reader.
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Part 2. Part 1
When you woke up the only thing you could feel was the soreness between your legs. Your consciousness took a minute to come to you. You started to slowly become aware of your surroundings. The pillow beneath you didn't feel like yours. You were on your side and a set of arms were holding you. You were being spooned by someone. Alexia was spooning you. Your eyes popped open as you started to remember what happened last night. You confronted Alexia. She confessed that she had feelings for you and you two slept together. Your jaw dropped when the details came to you. She threw you on her bed. You two made out. She Ate you out, and fucked you with her strap multiple times. She was dominant, rough, and demanding, but she kept praising you and telling how good you were for her, she praised you into taking her big strap, and edged you. She didn't let you come easily, you had to beg her for it time and time again. You also remembered that you returned the favor to her. You went down on her and she grabbed your hair while doing so. You felt proud when you remembered that you made her feel so good.
You couldn't help but move when the events of last night were flooding your memory which woke Alexia.
“Buen día.” She whispered in your ears. You then smile and turn your back. “buen día.” You reply. “ Sorry I woke you.” You whisper still.
“cómo te sientes?” She asked.
“ Well I can't feel my legs. Other than that I feel fine.” You say jokingly which she chuckled as a response.
“you are gonna force me to speak English aren't you?”
“ We can speak both.” You respond.
You two lay there in the dark, comfortable in the silence and in each other's touch.
Suddenly, you felt her hand trace along your stomach and chest, her hand was gentle she almost doesn't touch your skin.
“ Why didn't you tell me earlier?” You ask.
“ I didn't want to take advantage of you. I wanted to protect you from pressure and what people would say.”
“ Capitana, people are my last thought. I would trade everything to stay here with you forever.”
“ Are you sure?” She asks with worry in her voice. As a response you turn around to face her. Your hand cups her cheek, and kiss her in a short and sweet way. “ Yes I am.” You say as soon as you pull out. She attaches her lips to yours again this time pulling your body closer to hers. You make out for a little while longer only for your alarm to interrupt your sweet moment. You pull out from the kiss and touch her nose with yours. You stay like that for a moment before pulling out hold to shut your alarm.
You two then get up. You shower while she prepares your coffee. Once you were in the shower you notice the dark spots all over your neck, chest, and thighs. You smile and make a mental note to cover them up once you are in your car.
“ Seems like you had fun with my neck last night.” You say to her when you get out of the shower. She smiles at you and says “ I can do whatever with what's mine. “
“ So my body is yours then.”
“ Your the one who said that while begging me to come last night.” She responds.
“ Let's not bring that up or else I would want a rematch.”
You two leave her apartment and head towards the practice facility.
Upon arriving you two didn't look at each other or talk to one other. You joined your usual group and spent the day separately.
“te ves diferente” said Claudia after you left the gym to go to the pitch.
“no dormí mucho.” You respond.
“no, no es eso. Apenas escondes una gran sonrisa. Qué paso anoche” added Jena.
“nada. Déjalo en paz.” You respond before you run to the pitch leaving your friends behind.
While you were training you kept feeling Alexia’s eyes burn through your skin. As a result you were more alert to your surroundings. You kept making good shots, never missing the back of the net. You aced all your drills and tried your best to impress Alexia.
“Lo hiciste muy bien hoy americana.” Said aitana after you were done training.
“Me siento muy feliz hoy, supongo que eso ayudó.” You respond to her loud enough for Alexia to hear.
You went through the rest of your day at the facility normally. You did some recovery, you showered, got ready and left for your car all while not saying a word to Alexia.
When you arrived at your car you found her waiting by it.
“ Let drive to my house.” She says as soon as you two are face to face.
“ No.” You respond.
“ What do you mean no. Did I do anything wrong?” She says nervously.
“ I am not going home with you again.”
“ por qué¿”
“ I am not a whore for you to sleep with whenever you want. If you want to sleep with me again you have to ask me out on a date, charm me with your presence, and convince me to go home with you.”
“ will you go on a date with me?,”
“ No. “ You say before getting in your car.
“ This won't be easy Capitana.” You say before driving away.
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nkogneatho · 7 hours
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𝑶𝑯 𝑴𝒀 𝑩𝑰𝑮 𝑩𝑨𝑩𝒀 !!
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— old bf!toji x young gf!reader
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i think toji with a girlfriend that is so much younger than him is so adorable.
before you, he was just a man with a small room that is always so messy because he is rarely home. but, the room feels so much like home now that you have entered his life. he's never bothered to decorate or do anything. his heart flutters when he finds several photoframes hanging on the wall. one of you and him, a few of just his and a lot of megumi.
toji has never in his life ever clicked a selfie. he is not photogenic at all. so when you poke him to click one with you, he's not sure what to do in front of a camera. you tell him to just be himself and he is still confused. you lift the phone and make a peace sign with your hand, your teeth peeking out as your lips curve in a smile. you click it quickly and scan the photo. it is cute. you put a heart emoji with a wink one and upload it on your instagram. soon, your phone is buzzing with notifications. you open them and giggle. toji is so curious so he peeks and finds people calling him "the rock". He snatches the phone to scan the selfie you took earlier. you look so adorable with your cute little peace sign and smile and there he was beside you with a brow raised looking angry. "delete that shit right now," he orders. "are you kidding me? this is gold. it's going on the wall." he can't help but grin at how you find such silly things funny.
toji who is getting used to texting and wants to be even closer to you so he tries to learn some slangs. you are out with your friends when your phone chimes. you unlock it to see the text from toji.
toji: kys
you almost spit out the coffee you were enjoying. what the fuck is he on? what happened? you immediately call him.
"hello," his voice raspy.
"tojii! why the fuck would you say something like that to me?"
"what are you talking about?"
"the text you just sent me. why did you send that?"
"because i care for you, doll." you were even more confused now.
"you told me to kill myself because you care for me?"
"kill yourself? who said that? i sent K.Y.S." he spelled out each letter out loud. "it means keep yourself safe." it takes you a few seconds to absorb and then you burst out laughing. he is not sure what is so funny.
"oh my poor big baby. kys means kill yourself."
oh. OH.
"i—i am so fucking sorry, princess. i was just—"
"you are so adorable. when i come home, i need to go through your google search history to know what other slangs you learnt." he is so embarrassed, he bites his lower lip. but he is also feeling so warm and fuzzy because you called him adorable. who would call a man in his mid 30s adorable? well, you did. and he is so happy about that. happier that he met you.
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laneywrld · 2 days
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Oh Baby | part three
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third and final part.
word count: 8.6k
Warnings: tame(er) smut. Pregnancy sex. childbirth.
progress is made, all thanks to your hormone gremlins.
It's safe to say everyone's favorite duo was back like they never left,  just with a lingering air of sexual tension and babies in the oven. 
You were never good at holding water, which is why you told your family and friends about it the very same night. Your friends were the most excited you'd ever seen them, and that was before you even mentioned who the father was. 
When Miles questioned who the father was with a meek voice interrupting said celebrations, Lewis stepped forward with a cocky smirk and a pep in his step that made you want to kick the back of his legs in. 
Instead, you gently motioned to Lewis with your arm thrown out. 
You'll never forget your friend's reactions like a scene from a telenovela; they all gasped dramatically and clutched their pearls. "Oh, I'm going to beat everybody's ass; why didn't we know y'all were together?"
"We are NOT together." You interrupt.
"So fucking?" Miles pipes up, and you feel like you are on stage with a literal spotlight directed at you, with the way they are all intently observing you, including Lewis.
"Not fucking either." You deny, slapping Lewis' arm as to say, help me out here. He shakes his head at you, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"It was a one-time thing that we both agreed would never happen again. This is the consequence of our actions that night." You put your hands on your pudgier stomach. "Yay!" you cheer quietly.
Whit stands first, and with tears in her eyes, she throws her arm over your shoulder, pulling you into a hug. Mori stands after already having been emotional since the initial announcement. She saunters over with a coo of "Aww, mama bear," joining in on the embrace. 
Lewis' boys stand up, Miles put his hand out to Lewis for a dap and ends up pulling him into a hug. "One step closer." He chuckles gripping Lewis' shoulder as he steps back. 
Daniel grins, approaching Lewis with his arms open and ready, "I'm proud of you, brother." He congratulates them through his own wide grin. 
You turn to Lewis with your bottom lip poked out as your friends kneel around your tiny belly. It doesn't even really look like there's a child in there, but that doesn't halt your friends from gently caressing it.
You wipe away an unsuspecting tear as Miles coos gently to your stomach, "Hope you don't get your dad's forehead, lil man."
"She's a girl!" Whit scowls, mushing his face away from your belly.
"We don't know what it is, actually." Daniel returns Whit's actions, mushing her to the right as he emerges front and center.
Lewis, who had stood off to the side watching your friend's love on you and your unborn baby, steps to your side, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him. He leaves a lingering kiss on your hairline before knocking Daniel over with his foot. 
"Don't call my child an it."
-
Your parents, on the other hand, were a completely different story.
Your full government name is shouted by your mother as she holds onto your dad for support. They both look like they've been shot, and the greater betrayal was that you were the one who pulled the trigger. "Oh, Lord in heaven, please!"
"Ma." You whine, "Don't look like that, guys."
Lewis parents are sat beside your own, his mom is eyeing you up and down a interested look dawning her face. When your dad wipes the suprise from his face he looks like he is beginning the five stages of grief. 
"My baby- I can't."
Lewis' mother slaps her ex-husband's thigh, motioning to the anxious look adorning their son's face. 
"Lewis," His mom all but shouts, "Are you the father?" It comes out in a squeal, one that has your parents pausing their dramatics and leaning forward in sync.
Lewis looks like a thief caught red-handed. And just as you looked to him for support earlier, he does the same to you. You shrug at him, throwing your hands into your pockets.
How does it feel to be thrown to the sharks?
He stutters for a while, so he avoids eye contact with your dad. When his father speaks up, his voice is demanding. "Be a man, Lewis, answer."
You almost feel bad watching as your guys' parents sit literally on the edge of their seats. Lewis has never felt more nervous in his life. Deciding to put an end to his misery, you close the distance between you two and intertwine your hands.
"The baby is mine," Lewis announces, and your family jumps up like they've won the lotto.
Unlike your friends, they don't rush to you guys; they rush to each other. Your mom and Lewis' mom bounce up and down as they hug, and like the annoying men your fathers are, they point at each other with wide grins on their faces before they are in each other's embrace as well.
You and Lewis face each other in perplexity.
He clears his throat, and you call out, "Umm, hello?"
"Aww, my baby," your mom cries, rushing to you with her arms held high. You still stare back at Lewis, and your face is set in bafflement as she presses her lips to your cheeks and then cups your belly. Your dad comes barreling through, quite literally pushing your mom out of the way, and he is enveloping you in a bone-crushing hug.
Your mom shouts your dad's name, whacking the back of his head, "The girl is pregnant. Be gentle."
He eases back and holds your face in his hands, eyes staring into you with such adoration that it makes you emotional all over again. "My baby is having a baby."
Choked up you see Lewis' parents loving on him in the same manner, you catch Anthony's eyes and he is unraveling himself from his son and pulling you into him. "I couldn't be any more happier, my girl." He talks quietly into your ear as he hugs you. 
As you talk to Lewis' mom, you see your dad and mom embracing Lewis, and you chuckle as he happily accepts their graces.
As time went on they just barely settled down.
"Oh please," you taunt. "You literally looked like you guys were ready to kill me." 
You watch on in puzzlement as they begin writing Facebook posts. 
"Yes, my darling." Your mother hums. 
"Before we found out Lewis was the father." His mom adds with a cheeky smile.
"So?" your dad motions between the two of you, relaxing comfortably on the loveseat. "How long has this been a thing?"
At your words, the grin is wiped from his face, "It's not."
"Have you defiled my daughter Lewis Carl Dav-"
"Dad!" you shout, groaning again as he turns to Anthony with an incredulity like no other. 
"So, maybe let's not do Facebook?" You suggest.
Lewis raises from beside you sauntering over to the dad couch, he sits on the arm of the chair beside your dad and talks lowly to them. You cannot hear what he says but by the way a grin covers the faces of the entire couch you know he's used his classic Hamilton charm on them.
He watches you as he speaks and shoots you a wink when he sees you trying to read his lips. 
"I think we're going to head back to our wing of the house." He announces and that's your cue to start lifting from the couch. 
You say your goodbyes, giving everyone smooches and welcoming the last of their congratulations. Lewis saunters over to you after doing the same and reaches for your hand. You graciously accept, waving one final time before he pulls you from the secondary house. 
"So how are we going to go about this?" You question as the two of you walk hand in hand.
"However you want."
"I don't like how you just agree with everything I say; give me some input; this is your child, too." You ensure, "I'm open to what you want as well."
"I want you to be close to me during the pregnancy. It'd make me feel better for sure." He hums.
"Can I ask how that'd work? You're going to be traveling for the season. I want to keep my job for as long as I can."
"I want you to be stress free, I meant what I said, I'll take care of anything you need. Please just- you don't have to quit forever; just let me take care of you while you're pregnant, at least."
He looks so concerned with the idea of you working that it has you reaching up to physically push the frown from his face. You stop in front of him and poke your finger on his face by the corner of his mouth.
"Stop pouting," you instruct, "I work for my dad, after all. I think he'll understand."
He breathes a sigh of relief, grabbing your hand again as you start walking ahead of him.
"I also want everyone to know the baby's mine." He adds. "Unless you planned on keeping them out of the light, which I get-"
"Done." You cheese. "I'll let the world know you knocked me up, Sir Hamilton. More requests?"
"Move in with me."
You don't say anything as you turn to face him. The moon creates a glow around the two of you as you glance up at him. 
"C'mon, I purchased the house because you liked it anyway," he shrugs. "You're there more than me during the season; Roscoe loves having you there; I love having you there. Plus, you love it there."
You stare up at him with an admiration like no other. It has him turning his blushing face to the side.
"I did say it'd be the perfect home for a kid one day, huh?" You squeal, wrapping yourself around him, "I'm so excited!"
He lifts you with one arm like you weigh nothing, and you wrap your legs around his waist.
"I'm excited, too." He hums as he walks you into the primary home. The lights are all off as he carries you up the stairs and into your room. He plops you down onto the bed, crouching down to pull your slippers from your feet. 
"I can do that myself, you know? I'm not that pregnant yet." You huff.
"What kind of man would I be if I had my baby mama doing anything?" He smirks up at you.
"All it took was me carrying your child for you to be awfully sweet to me, would've fucked you sooner."
"Always sweet to you," Lewis smiles up at you, "gotta stop talking like that to me if you don't want me to get the wrong idea."
"Mhmm." You fall back into the bed.
Lewis crawls onto the bed beside you, laying his head against your stomach; he pokes you, making you jump.
"Stop it, I'm ticklish." You warn; he only smiles, nestling further into you. "There's a baby in here." His voice is so low you almost miss it. 
"Thank you." You express gently, rubbing your fingers through his braids. 
"For what?" utters Lewis as his palm rubs in circular motions against your belly. 
"For giving me everything I've ever wanted."
"I always will."
-
Whoever came up with the saying that distance makes the heart grow fonder was truly right. Although it was less than ideal, you and Lewis were back as if it had never happened. In fact, it's like the time you had away from each other forced you into the beautiful dynamic the two of you have now. Neither of you wanted to be without the other again.
It had been three months since your beautiful discovery, so that put you at a whopping five months pregnant.
Your belly was now noticeably bigger and rounder, much bigger than it would've been if Lewis' family didn't have a history of twins. And it was most definitely getting in the way of things, literally. 
You huff as you struggle to squat down low enough to lift the box of blankets you packed. Just as you feel yourself get a good enough grip on the box and you begin to lift Lewis is by your side wearing a disapproving scowl.
"How many times do I have to tell you to stop trying to carry stuff out of here."
"Lewis," you huff, "It's literally just blankets."
"I don't care, sit down." He orders.
You stomp away from him, plopping down on the couch. He walks out of the front door and returns only moments later, waltzing into your kitchen.
He appears again with a plate full of orange slices, and you sigh as he approaches you.
"Lewis, there's only so many orange slices I can take in a day, buddy."
"The doctor said oranges are a good snack for month five," he pouts, "my kids need vitamin C."  
"Trust me, belly's fine."
Almost like they can sense the presence of food, they kick at you, and you, still not used to the sensation, cup your stomach in a gasp.
"Mhhm," Lewis disapproves, "feed my babies." He is setting the plate of fruit in your lap, bending quickly to peck your stomach. "I have a few more boxes to help them load and then I'll be taking you home, okay."
You can only offer him a puffy smile, your cheeks filled with fruit. He chuckles leaning over to ruffle your hair and he's pulling your forehead to his lips pressing a chaste kiss there before he's walking towards the stack of boxes.
You dreamily sigh, watching his glistening tatted back contract as he lifts the heavy mass. 
These fucking babies were turning you into a horny mess. 
It was the second week of June. A week later than the deadline, you promised Lewis that you'd move into his home. Well, your home now, too.
It was safe to say that Lewis meant business. You had spent the last few months bouncing from country to country, attending every race with him and basking in the free time with each other, which he had before and after races. 
When you opted to skip the Canadian Grand Prix under the pretense that you would go home to oversee the movers, he hesitantly drove you to the airport the day before qualifying. 
But when you got home and your preganacy brain got to you, you realized you scheduled your movers for the wrong saturday. You could've sworn Lewis was having a panic attack with the way he was in hysterics over the facetime call as you explained your situation.
He had booked himself a very late flight after his race and appeared at your doorstep with an armful of plant-based treats and a carton of strawberry fro-yo. "It's good for the babies." He smiled sheepishly as he rushed in. 
And here you were now, big and bored, spread across the couch as Roscoe snuggled into your side. You don't remember falling asleep next to your furry friend, but as Lewis gently shakes you awake with an adorable twinkle in his eyes you can't even be bothered to be irritated.
"Hey, mama," he coos. "You ready to head out?"
You nod, still groggy, swinging your legs over the couch and preparing to stand. Lewis catches you off guard as he swoops you into his arms, carrying you bridal style with ease. He calls for Roscoe as he slips through the front door. 
He opens the passenger side door of his car and sits you down softly, reaching over you to grab the seatbelt. And he's so close to you that it has your heart hammering when his hand swipes against your chest to pull at the belt. 
"I'll be back in a second, going to lock up here."
He smirks as he closes the door and you see him taking his precious time to make it back into your former home. 
You were no fool; truthfully, you were fully aware of the sexual tension that hung between you and Lewis since the night of his birthday. 
There were lingering touches and gazes that you were sure were sexually charged. You've even noticed Lewis' impure reactions to you, and it made your brain race with questions.
The driver's side door opening drew you from your thoughts as Lewis appeared this time covered in a white tee. You will away your disappointment and reach for his phone to play some music. When you do you see a message from a saved contact.
Marie
Isn't it about time for you to come see me again?
"You've got a message." You tell him nonchalantly even though your heart aches.
"From who?"
You try to hand him the phone, but he waves it off, reversing the car. "Can you read it to me?"
"Marie, she says, and I quote, Isn't it about that time for you to come see me again? You late to a link, Lew?" You laugh even though there isn't shit funny to you.
"You can block her." He declares casually. 
"Huh?"
"Block her for me." He orders, but he still hasn't turned to look at you. "She was just someone I saw when I was in Canada."
"Lewis, you don't have to end your fun on my account; I'm the pregnant one. You do know that you don't have to."
"Yeah." He pushes out hoarsely. You wait for him to continue, but he doesn't. In a way, you feel a sense of relief wash over you. Life with Lewis has felt so extra domestic lately. It was almost like the two of you were in a relationship, minus the physical affection. And even then, that physicality was there; you two just never kissed or, well, had sex.
You wondered if he felt it the same way you had.
But then the thought lingers in the back of your head: did he see her when you left to come home?
The way he was acting oddly uncomfortable with the conversation gave you your answer, and in the end, you couldn't fault him for it.
You do as he instructs, clicking Marie's contact and blocking her number, and then you continue on with your initial mission and scroll through Lewis' Spotify until you find music to your liking.
The rest of the drive is silent except for the soft melodies escaping his speakers.
When you pull into Lewis' driveway, he parks, turns off the car, and hurries to your side, opening the door before you even have the chance to do so. He opens the backdoor and holds onto your hand. "Roscoe, c'mon boy."
He leads you into the home like you haven't passed through the very same doors a million times before. 
"Which room did they move me into?" You question making your way upstairs.
"Oh," Lewis pauses, "I figured you'd be with me, in mine."
"Oh, okay."
You walk past him and further up the stairs as he trails behind you.
When you enter his room you beeline straight into his closet, well you guys' closet and sure enough there are more of your belongings taking up space. 
You stand on your tiptoes to reach for one of his tee shirts. He is behind you in an instant, one hand holding your hip firmly and forcing your feet back onto the ground. The other reaches up and grasps the shirt you had been aiming for. 
When you turn to take the shirt from him, he once again gives you the same disapproving gaze he'd given you earlier.
"Oh God, Lewis. I can't even get on my tiptoes anymore?" You question, pulling the shirt from his grasp.
"You could've tipped over." He argues, following you out of the closet. "You want a bath or a shower tonight?" He queries, already heading into the bathroom.
"A bath, please; my body is killing me." 
"Put this on," he orders, tossing you your robe. 
You strip from your shorts and tee-shirt throwing the robe on and waiting patiently for Lewis to emerge from the bathroom. 
When he does, he's shirtless, and the sweats are hanging low.
"I've got your bath running. Sit down," he orders, pointing to the bed. 
"Why?" you question, but you're already moving to the bed and plopping down. 
"Why do you question everything?" He chuckles. And he is slipping behind you in an instant, his hands instantly moving up to knead at your shoulders.
You can't help the moan you let out. "Fuck, that feels great. Thank you."
"It's the least I can do, letting my youngsters beat you up all day."
You can only chortle as his hands move along your back. 
"Gonna come out feisty, like you."
"I am not," you argue.
"yeah, okay." He whispers, his hands traveling lower and lower. His hands are gripping your sides firmly as his thumbs massage masterfully into your back.
"Fuck, Lewis." You mewl.
"Feels good?"
"Yeah." 
You almost cry as you feel him lifting behind you, but when he pushes you onto your back gently and cradles your legs, the whine in your throat is replaced with a nervous gulp. 
His hands caress your thighs, moving up and down expertly, and you bask in the comfort.
"I didn't sleep with her in Canada, never even saw her this year."
"Oh," you murmur with your eyes closed. On the outside, you were calm, but mentally, you were shrieking tears of joy. 
"Haven't been sleeping around." He announces again. 
When you say nothing, he persists, "Haven't been with anyone since you."
You know Lewis so well that you can predict his face even before you open your eyes.
His voice sounds a bit gravelly and shaky, and you know he's peering up at you through his perfect lashes, waiting to gauge your reaction. 
So when you open your eyes and see him hovering over your legs exactly as you imagined, you can only shoot him a purposeful smile.
"I figured. You've spent all of your time with me." You shrug. He nods relief washing over him. In all honesty he was happy that you recognized the switch in him. Recognized that all of his focus was soley on you and your unborn babies, who you've nicknamed belly. 
"Five months is a long time to go without sex." You declare, and he bobs his head to the side, 
"Not really, not for me. What about you?" 
He feels his heart leap with joy at your next words.
"I haven't slept with anyone else since you either. I've gone longer without sex, so five months would've been easier if I wasn't lugging around two hormone gremlins." 
You both share a laugh as you motion to your round belly. 
"You're suffering then?"
"Suffering like a motherfucker." You huff.
"I can fix that."
You sit up, coming face to face with him; he stares at you intensely. It was your idea, not to mention the night you two had shared, as well as your doing, to solidify the fact that you two would never sleep together again.
However, your emotions were running, and your hormones were at an all-time high, so could anyone really even blame you for pulling his mouth to yours in a searing kiss?
Like the time before, it's like Lewis is ready for you. He pushes you back down, his legs still holding him above you. This time, Lewis takes the initiative, spreading your mouth open and entering like it's home. One of his elbows is being used as leverage to hold him above your bump. His other hand has your jaw in a tight grip, holding you in place.
Your hands are exploring his body. Traveling the expanse of his chest to his back, anything you can reach. 
He disconnects his mouth from yours, his head turning towards the bathroom. "Shit, sorry."
He stands, shooting you a sorrowful look as he beelines into the washroom.
When he appears again, he is looking at you with hungry eyes, but his words are so domestic that you are ready to jump his bones.
"Made your bath too hot. Got time to let that cool down."
You smirk at him, beckoning him over. You're both sitting angled towards each other and just as you move forward to touch his lips with your own he is moving his head to the side forcing you to peck the corner of his mouth.
You lean back with furrowed brows. "What was that?"
"I want to clarify something first, this time. So we won't have a repeat of last time."
Damn, you scream to yourself. You were already extremely horny, and now you'd have to sit and listen to him declare that this was a means of pleasure only. Which in return would most likely turn you off. So yay, no life-altering dick for you tonight.
"Go on then." You wave your hand, and Lewis laughs.
"Patience, you horny beast." 
You gasp, thumping his head.
"But really, I, um, wanted to let you know this for a while. It's been on my mind even heavier since my birthday."
"Okay," 
"I love you." He blurts, "and not in the conventional friendship way, you're my best friend but I love you more than that. And I have for as long as I could remember."
You feel like you've been freed from hell's gates; everything in you feels so much lighter, so much more merrier. 
Like always, when Lewis tries to find the words to say, his head is tilted downwards to the side as he works through what to say. His heart is beating a mile a minute, and he can't find it in him to look at you quite yet. He has to say how he feels now, or he'll never say it.
"I'm the man I am today because of you. You've been with me every step of the way. You've never turned your back on me or gotten sick of me; you've been everything I've ever wanted from the beginning. I've tried to fill the void of not having you with other... distractions, should I say. And it never made me forget about you, never made me want you any less, always made me want you even more."
You choke up at his words. This was all you've ever wanted to hear spoken to you.
"I love you and I feel like I have ever since I've been able to have complex emotions. You are my childhood dream. Over the racing and the luxury lifestyle, over anything. I've always wanted you more than anything. I meant every word I said to you on my birthday, and I'm taking accountability now for the argument. I wanted to hear you say that you meant the words you said to me, like I meant the words I said to you. I should have just admitted it. But I didn't, and I was a fool; I regret it every day. But I love you all the same."
He peers up at you through his lashes and through his own teary eyes he can see the tears bubbling over the surface as you poke out your bottom lip in your classic pout.
"Oh, Lew," you whine, wrapping him in such a tender embrace. "You don't know how long I've waited to hear you say those words."
He nestles his head into the crook of your neck, and you can feel wetness glide down your collar.
You grasp his head in your hands, cupping his cheeks so that you can see him eye to eye.
"I love you," you state. "More than the entire world, I've always told you that, and I've always meant it."
His lips twitch, and his eyes soften. Finally, he breaks into a smile. "How much I love you is unexplainable, Lew. I've been fighting myself forever about it, frustrated that I'd never see anyone like I see you. I've been settling because I thought I couldn't have you. You're all I've ever wanted. And I meant what I said that night, too. I was made for you and only you, always only ever been yours. No one has had my heart but you."
This time, the kiss is passionate and slow. You taste saltiness as you succumb to each other. You separate with a gasp, hand coming down to soothe your stomach. "They're beating me up again." You whisper, watching as their tiny feet nudge against your stomach.
Lewis bends down, pressing pecks to your bulging belly, "Think they're just celebrating."
You watch from above with a loving smile on your face. "My little family." You coo, bringing your hand up to rest in Lewis' hair.
"I'm going to marry you, you know that, right?" Lewis peers up at you. 
"I sure would hope so." And you lean down to press a kiss to his forehead. 
"They're not stopping." He announces, his hand covering your own on your belly.
"They always get excited when you're close to me." You admit. 
His eyes crinkle at your words, and his mouth spreads into a grin.
"I'm happy to be with you guys, too," he coos to your gut, "but we have to let Mama relax, okay." At his words, the thumps from inside of you come to a halt, and you and Lewis marvel at each other.
"Wow," you whisper.
"Come on." He is standing from the bed, holding his hand out for you. 
He helps you stand from the bed, gently pulling you into the bathroom.
When you're inside, he faces you towards the mirror. He unclasps the necklace sitting it onto the bathroom counter and slowly his hands travel to your front to untie your robe. It falls off of your shoulders and he proceeds to drag it down your arms and from your body.
You stare at him through the mirror with no shame as he trails his eyes along your body.
"Most beautiful woman in the world." He hums. You're standing in front of him naked as he reaches past you to drop your now discarded robe beside your necklace.
As he does so, he presses lingering kisses to your neck. 
He steps back, holding out his arm to direct you into the bathtub.
"Get in with me?" You suggest as you notice him standing off to the side. 
Lewis curses himself for feeling like a shy virgin around you every time you even remotely flutter your eyes at him. 
"Please." You add submerging yourself into the warm water.
Lewis slips from his sweats, easing into the tub at the other end.
"Remember when we used to have baths together as kids?" You reminisce, blowing a pile of bubbles at him.
Lewis leans back, his arms dangling over the edge. "Simple times."
"You remember when you pooped?" You tease, leaning forward.
Lewis splashes you a tiny bit, bubbles landing on your face. "That was you," he denied.
"Big fat liar." you cackled. 
Lewis sees you inching towards him like a tiger on the prowl. You're in his lap before he knows it, your arms locked around his neck. He wraps his own around your waist.
No more words are spoken between you two. You lift your soapy hand and tilt his head up to you, pressing your mouth to his.
Lewis groans into your mouth as you settle over him.
"Want you so bad." You confess, your lips trailing from his mouth to his jaw and down into the crevice of his neck.
Your hand reaches down between the two of you, and you smile against his skin as you grip him.
So hard already.
Lewis throws his head back against the porcelain as you wrap your hand around him in a snug grasp. 
You're in his ear saying some of the most obscene words he's ever heard as you sit on top of him, tugging him. He can feel your belly rubbing against his, and it's driving him mad.
"Want to make love? Can we do that, Lewis? Make it even better than the last time."
Lewis gasps out his words as you sit back on his legs and use both of your hands to twist and tug on him. He bites on his bottom lip and grips you tighter. "Fuck, yes. Please"
You can only smile at him as you observe his resolve crumbling. You don't stop even as he begins to spasm and continually moan out your name. He grunts one last time before it transforms into a fit of masculine whimpers. He literally falls apart in your hands as you massage him through his release. 
"Got another one in you?" You ask, already positioning yourself over him.
He opens his eyes, pupils blown and wild. And then his bitten and swollen lips spread into a dopey smile.
You give him a peck; widening said smile before you line him up at your entrance. The smile is wiped from his face as his facade once again contorts to one of pure pleasure.
You can only gasp and move your grip to his shoulders as you sink onto him inch by inch until you feel him nestled tightly into you.
"Fuck." He groans.
You ease your body up and down over him slowly, he's so fucking big.
You moan as you continue your slow pace. You want to take your time with him. But it was getting increasingly hard feeling that delicious stretch every time you lifted over him.
Lewis hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you sank down onto him. He is staring at you like you hung the sun, moon, and the stars yourself.
He uses both of his hands to pull your mouth towards his, "I love you." He breathes into you, pressing passionate pecks onto your lips. He holds your face close to his, maintaining eye contact as you roll over him. 
Your mouth drops open as you feel him lift his hips over and over. Between his eyes piercing into you and the slow, languid strokes he's giving you, you weren't sure what would throw you over the edge first. 
You moan quietly as you feel the blaze building in your belly. He's so big that it feels like he's entering you for the first time all over again.
You feel inebriated by him as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. He's still just as vocal as he was the first time, and it's putting you in overdrive.
Lewis is thrusting up into you with a force that has the breath leaving your lips in sharp pants with every re-entry.  
Your foreheads fall against each other, both of you watching your bodies drive against the water.
Lewis is lifting you from his lap like you weigh nothing. He turns you around to face the opposite way. You gasp as he pulls your arms up and directs you to hold onto the end of the tub in front of you. You're on your knees, arms holding your upper body out of the water. You feel his knees slide in between your spread legs, and his hands caress up and down your wet back. 
One hand settles on your shoulder, the other on your waist, and then he is sliding into you slowly. You hang your head, letting out a deep breath, "fuck." you cry out as he strokes at such a deliberately slow momentum.
As he pushes into you, his grip on your shoulders forces you back at the same time. He's going so slow but getting so deep that it has you tightening your grip. 
When he hits your spot, you lurch forward.
He pulls you back onto him, his hand tightening against your waist.
"Don't run. Stay with me." He orders, his voice is deep and raspy. "This what you wanted, remember?"
You nod your head, eyes closing shut as your thighs quiver. "Oh god."
"Want to make you feel better." He moans. "I was waiting for you to let me see this pretty pussy again." He hums, and you feel his hands spread you apart.
"So fucking pretty, so tight."
It was like he was tormenting you, giving you an inch and then taking a mile every time he pushed into you slowly just to have you wallowing for more when he pulled himself out.
"You're being greedy, mama." He chuckles as you push yourself back onto him. "take what you want then."
At his words, you begin to swivel your hips back at a much quicker pace, feeling his pelvis brush against your ass with every motion.
"C'mon, take it." he grunts. "that's right, want it so bad."
You pull yourself forward, only to spiral back into him repeatedly. Lewis is a mess behind you, his hands reaching up to hold his braids from his face. He kneels there and allows you to use his body in any way you please. 
He takes in an unsteady breath when you tighten around him. As you drag your pussy over him, he feels himself being tugged with you. "So tight." he moans, "don't even wanna let me go."
He pulls you up by your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest, and begins hammering into you over and over. One hand travels to your throat, and his grip is temperate. 
"All you needed, huh? Feel better already?"
You nod your head, yes, head falling back onto his shoulder. He pummels into you stroke after stroke until he feels it. You constrict around him, hands coming to grip his arm, and you moan his name over and over. 
He doesn't show you any mercy. He keeps up his fast pace as you writhe in his arms. His head falls, and as he feels himself come undone, he bites down on your shoulder with a growl that lights your body on fire all over again. You feel him spurt into you, and you whine as he nestles himself into your core further. 
After a while, Lewis pulls himself from your gut with a hiss. He reaches down and unplugs the drain. He sits, spreading his legs and pulling you in between them. When you're nestled against his chest, he sighs, once again placing his hand on your neck to angle your face towards his. He places a sensual kiss on your lips before letting you go with a smile.
"Should I run us a bath, or do you want to hop in the shower for a quick wash?"
You turn to the left, observing the standing shower, and you scoff. "you've ruined my legs, Lew; I couldn't stand in there if I wanted."
"Bath it is." He grins, already reaching for the knobs.
"Plus, I want to sit with you like this for a while. Bask in this."
"I love you," he expresses, "I don't think I'll ever get used to this."
_
Spoiler alert: he never did. As the days went on and turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months, and Lewis never changed his affections. You two were in a constant honeymoon phase, which you were sure was permanent.
You two were perfect for each other in every sense and made each other whole. 
The dynamics that made you two the perfect friends bled over into your relationship, and things were flawless, to say the least.
Until, you felt a popping feeling and then a gush of water fall between your legs. Lewis was on his way home from the airport having left to race in Singapore he was relieved that he'd be back three days before your expected due date.
But when he gets a call from his best friend and hears your cranky voice in the background, his heart hammers with nerves. 
"Miles, I swear to fucking god," he hears you groan. "if he doesn't have his high yellow ass to the hospital before I push these goddamn babies out of me, I will kill him. Tell him I will kill him."
"You heard her, man," Miles stammers. He hears commotion over the phone, and he gives up his useless attempts to grab either of your attention.
"Oi Miles!" He hears a slap in the background. "Oh my fucking god," you cry out. "Where is Whit? I don't want your help, fucking men."
Miles reappears on the screen; he looks disheveled and like he's just been in a cat fight, "Hey, brother." he pants. "I'm trying here, just how far are you?" 
"Lewis leans forward, seeing his ETA on his driver's screen. "Only ten minutes. Is she okay?" His voice is full of concern, and Miles squawks.
"Brother, ten minutes is too long. She just absolutely beat my ass for putting the wrong treats in the bag. There are a million gummies in here. How am I sup-"
"Gushers, Miles. On the top shelf of the pantry behind the rice cakes."
"Why the hell are there gushers behind rice cakes?" He cries out, rushing to the pantry. Lewis sees you in the background as Miles breezes by.
You stand in the middle of the living room face set in a pout one hand grasping the a bag of organic gummies and the other holding your phone to your ear. 
"Whit!" He hears you cry out, "I'm about to have these fucking babies alone with fucking Miles! Fucking Miles! And he gives me fucking Annes organic fruit snacks, Whitney! Why the fuck would I want organic candy? And Lew hid the gushers, and he's not going to be here in time, and I don't know where he put them."
Miles drops his jaw, halting his reach for the treats. "Hey, I'm trying my best! I want the best for you and my godchildren. I'm trying here!"
"Your trying isn't enough; obviously, I need the god mom. Whit! Fucking men, can't even find my fucking candy." You call out again. 
"Ugh- did she just stomp away from me." 
The call disconnects, and Lewis lets out a sigh of relief as he pulls into his neighborhood. He rushes out of the car, running up the steps of you guys' home. When he enters the foyer, he rushes to where he saw you last on the phone. Only you're not standing in the living room in distress. It's Miles slumped onto the couch with a family pack of gushers in his lap. He notices the two gusher wrappers beside his friend, and he storms up to him, snatching the box and slapping the side of his head.
"Where's my baby?" 
"Upstairs, y'all are going to learn how to appreciate me one day. I'm the godfather to your children-"
Lewis smacks his teeth, rushing up the stairs and into your bedroom. He sees you lugging your baby bag onto the bed, and he rushes over to you, pulling it from your grasp. 
"Hey bunny, I'm here." 
Your lip wobbles as you look up at him, and you let out a relieved cry. Lewis opens his arms to embrace you, and you quickly pull the box from his hands, stuffing it into your bag. 
"I was looking for these." You cried.
Lewis, used to your pregnant shenanigans, allows you to cry tears of relief for the sudden appearance of your after-labor treat. It's all you'd been asking for for weeks, but your doctor had you on a strict diet.
"Bunny," he persists, his arms open. You sniffle, stepping into his embrace.
"How are you feeling?"
"My vagina hurts, and I was scared you weren't going to make it." 
He chuckles, holding you close to him, "always going to make it when it comes to you guys."
It's safe to say your mood didn't get any better when you made it to the hospital. 
Lewis was by your side as you held onto his hand for dear life.
"Baby," he coos, "you're doing great."
"Oh my god," you wince, pulling your hand from his as you clutch the sheets. "Get the fuck away from me."
He looks baffled as you curse up a storm.
Lewis takes a step back only to be nudged forward again by the doctor. "Trust me, she'll murder you if you get away from her."
He holds onto your hand again, using the towel to wipe the sweat from your hairline.
Even now as you take in deep breaths and hang your head like you're about to die, Lewis think you are beautiful. You're glistening with sweat and throwing out words that would make a pastor faint but you're still beautiful with your freshly done birthing braids and bewildered face.
"Oh fuck this! Count the shit, measure the shit, whatever, and check again. I don't care if I'm not dilated enough; make it enough! Get these babies out of me."
You were regretting your decision to go all-natural as another contraction rippled through you. You let go of the sheet and grasp Lewis' hand again.
You look up to him, and he is staring at you in pure adoration. "I promise, you've got this." He encourages.
You feel tears of relief pool as your doctor let's out a direct order. "And we're there, when I get to three you push, okay."
You only nod as Lewis crouches down, "Push like hell, bunny."
You don't count how many times you hear him count to three or how many agonizing pushes you give until you hear the first cry. You're momentarily distracted as you watch them hold your baby into the air. 
"Come on, Mom, got to keep going," your doctor orders. 
You exhale, taking another deep breath as you push again. Lewis remains by your side, holding your hand and coaxing you through the pain.
"You're doing so great, bunny. So proud of you. We're about to meet our babies; we just have to push a little bit more." 
His words are all you need to get through another insufferable ninety seconds before you hear an even louder cry. 
Lewis kisses the top of your head as you fall back in exhaustion. "So proud of you, baby, hmm. I love you."
You're no longer the angry woman you were twenty minutes ago. You're looking up at Lewis with tired eyes that still glow with love and excitement.
"Baby boy came first." Your doctor hums settling him on one side of your chest, Another nurse comes forward settling your second baby on the oposite side. "And his sister came to stake her territory after."
You cry out, but it comes out in the form of a laugh. Your hands come up to hold both of your babies against your chest. Lewis crouches down, eyeing you three in amazement.
"My beautiful family." 
He places a kiss atop each head, watching as they instantly settle down amongst your warm body. 
You've never felt so much love in your life. You think back to all of the times you felt you were destined to be alone, all of the times you craved for someone to love you unconditionally. You gave up hope that you'd find it in a partner, so a baby was all you craved. But here you were with a man who loved you more than it was possible for love to exist. Here you were with two products of that love. 
You order the nurse to remove one of the railings so the Lewis can nestle in beside you. The doctor suggest for him to remove his shirt and he does so quickly, gently sliding beside you. You motion for him to grab the babygirl and he eases her onto his chest with ease. You peck his head as you watch the tears glide down his face. 
"I just love you all so much." he cries. 
And you know exactly how he feels as you two bask in the moment.
You think back to the moment that made this all possible, laying in Lewis' bed as the words leave his mouth, "It's something about loving someone so much that you want to fill them up with another part of you."
Looking at your two babies, you could tell they each were going to represent a part of both of you. As your daughter lets out constant noises, Lewis turns to you with knowing eyes, "Just like her mama." Your son's eyes pop open at the sound of his sister, and you coo, "Brother bear."
"Do we have names ready?" The doctor hums.
-
y/u/n
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y/u/n I want to share this love I found with everyone. you deserve to meet my happy family after all of this time. Of all of the things that I wanted to be, being a mother was always my true calling. It's not easy, but it's worth it. To my babies, mommy loves you always; when the world is cruel, and your heart makes you feel like a fool, know that I will be there always. To LJ, my daring little boy, I see your father in everything you do; you will always be my baby bear, so strong and courageous, but with a mind so strong and a heart so big, you're forever unstoppable. My baby, Giana, Gigi girl, you came into the world demanding to be heard. You're fierce and bold in all of the best ways. Already, I admire the way you think and the things I know you will do. You heal a part of me I didn't know needed healing. You're my favorite girls girl, I love listening to you yap puppy, I love that you love talking to me. Always stand your ground, girly; never dull your light or lower your voice for anyone or anything. If no one listens, know I will. And to the love of my life, who has given me everything I could've ever wanted, plus more. You've outdone yourself, Lew; there aren't enough words to articulate how much I love you. Still my best friend, soon to be my husband, forever and always, the love of my life <3
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lewishamiton I can never think you enough for all that you've given to me. I love you more than life bunny. ❤️
user okay but the family of crochet animals. PUPPY? BEAR? CHEETAH? BUNNYYYY? 🥲
whitwhit still so proud of you mama ❤️
y/u/n the best god mommy in the world! I love you.
landonorris Mother🤰🏽Literally. Beautiful souls, even more beautiful children.
y/u/n love love love you Lando
user i always knew they'd get together one day, my happy heart!
lewishamilton
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liked by charles_leclerc, mercedesamg, and 7,796,801 others
lewishamilton Thank you will never be enough for all that has been given to me. I love you, bunny, and every time I think it's impossible to feel more than that, you prove me wrong. To the rest of our lives together, to our children, and to the life I've had with you. We're in this together, forever. Daddy loves you, LJ, and Gigi, forever here, forever loving you.
charles_leclerc So happy for you man!
sebastianvettel never have you been happier man, congratulations.
user you mean to tell me that all of this time we thought he was uncle lew and whole time HE'S THE PAPPYYYY
lewishamilton like these are my kids, that my son. I was so bothered by that ngl. THEY LOOK JUST LIKE ME.
user you tell us not to assume and then when we don't assume you want us to assume what do you want from us sir?!?!
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so this is the end that's not the end, I'll most likely make blurbs for their future 🌚
hope you enjoyed it.
not proofread sorry for any mistakes I was rushing honey
@barcelonaloverf1life @mitruscity
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vivwritesfics · 1 day
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hi 🥹🥹 idk if this is okay but can i request a os ( or a series if you think it’s worthy, you decide ! ) where lando and yn are exes and they meet during a party after soooo many years and they are still super angry at each other (no cheating because i read your rules but idk, maybe they broke up because of distance?? or lando wanted to focus on his career ??). Despite that, tension builds up and they end up having sex all night and then they confess they never forget each other and idk a lil happy ending?
a right person wrong time ex lovers to enemies to lovers again sort of idk ahahahahahah
love youuuuuu
I've been pretty away from things for the last two days and I'm sorry, but hoping to get back on track real soon
Verstappen reader
Warnings: light smut, fingering
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When you break up with someone you're still in love with, it sucks. It really fucking sucks. So much that it's easier to let yourself hate them than miss them.
It was years ago, but she still hated him. And seeing him on her television so often made her hate him more. It would have been easier if he hated her too, but he didn't. Her brother made sure she was aware of it.
She'd managed to avoid races, has done for years at this point. But Max was about to win his third championship, and he wanted her there for it.
So, he flew her out to Qatar.
For the entire race weekend, she ignored him. She ignored him with everything she had. Hiding out in the Red Bull garage, walking the other way whenever anybody dressed in orange came towards her.
But then Max won the goddamn championship. That wasn't what she was mad about. She was so fucking happy that her big brother had won the championship. She couldn't say no to going out partying with him.
Neither could Lando, either.
He didn't know she was going to be there, didn't know that she was even in the country. But, the moment his eyes met hers, fuck. He couldn't stop himself from striding over to her, drink in hand.
"Hey," he said, a little breathlessly. Well, she she looked incredibly fucking good.
Her hand reached out and struck his face. Lando held his cheek as he looked down at her. "What was that for?" He asked, but he knew. He knew how he had fucked up and he regretted it so much.
""Fuck you," she spat, stepping closer. But then she backed off to find her brother.
The night kept going on like this. They kept running into each other, dancing together for just a few minutes before she remembered who she was with and backed off.
Lando hadn't kissed her at the end of the night. He hadn't climbed into her lap as she sat in a booth (something she did to her). With her situated in his lap, hands on the back of his neck, she pressed her lips to his own.
"Fuck," he grunted against her lips as he grabbed her waist.
She whimpered and began trailing kisses down his neck. "Take me to your room, Lan," she whispered.
Her voice was so soft, how could he ever say no?
That was how she ended up in his hotel. Lando laid her on his bed, his hands touching her like he hadn't forgotten how. She moaned as he pulled down her underwear, his hands touching her thighs. Even this was better than anything she'd had in the years since they broke up.
"I've missed this," he whispered as his finger ran through her folds. She tossed her head back as he felt just how wet she was.
Fuck, he needed her now.
Lando dropped his trousers. He slowly and gently thrust his fingers into her, opening her up before he entered her.
It was like he was made to fill her. And he did, over and over again, until the sun shone through the window and light filled the room.
The new day came a new sense of clarity. She'd fucked her ex. Who the hell made the mistake of sleeping with their ex? She couldn't help but feel stupid as she looked at him, sleeping in the bed beside her. She'd missed him, so damn much.
But he was the one who didn't want her.
As she slipped out of the bed, a hand reached for her. "Don't go," he said. "Stay with me, please."
She couldn't stop herself from letting a sigh loose from her lips. "Why should I, Lan?" She couldn't stop the nickname from slipping out. "You don't want me, so why should I?"
He couldn't help but groan. "I do want you," he said.
She pulled away from him and gathered her clothes up from the floor. "Then start acting like it."
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xspeter · 3 days
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LOML
luke castellan x fem!reader
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angst, angst, angst. mini blurb to help me get my flow back :) based off of LOML by Taylor Swift.
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Percy Jackson isn’t sure what’s worse. Luke’s betrayal, or the look on your face when you find out. He’s sure he’ll get nightmares about it.
You’d had a wide smile on your face, the woven flower crown in your hair hinting that you’d just been out at the flower fields with your siblings.
You’d been called to help patch up Percy after what you had been told was a fight, but the somber energy in the room immediately told you something was off. It was too suspicious to have Chiron, Mr. D, Percy, Annabeth, and Grover all in the room for what was supposed to simply be slapping on a band-aid.
The smile on your face fell, and was instead replaced with a subtle frown. Your eyebrows furrowed, and you crossed your arms over your chest uncomfortably. “Is something wrong?” You asked, eyeing everyone in the room.
Percy swallowed and hesitantly glanced to Annabeth, who already had the remnants of tears in her eyes. And if the glossiness told him anything, it was that she was about to burst out crying again. Not that he could blame her.
He watched your frown grow as recognition flashed across your face. You and Luke always had been so in tune to each others emotions, he’s honestly surprised you didn’t notice the lack of his presence earlier.
“Y/N-” Chiron started, but you interrupted him. “Where’s Luke?”
Silence.
Percy didn’t believe in soulmates. It’s weird, because after finding out about greek gods and mythological beings being real, you’d think soulmates wouldn’t be that far off the table. But, they were.
But you and Luke had something Percy could tell was special. It wasn’t just a relationship - it was like a sacred bond bestowed upon the two of you by the gods themselves. Wherever Luke was, you’d be sure to follow, and vice versa. Fuck, you’d practically finish each other’s sentences as corny as that sounded.
That’s why he was so confused Luke would throw it all away so easily.
“Y/N…” Mr. D started, and Percy was sure it was the most emotion he’d ever even seen from him. You immediately began shaking your head, hands trembling as you stared at the ground. “Where is he?” You questioned again.
More silence followed, and Percy knew no one wanted to answer you, and he could understand why. Still, he took a breath and forced himself to look up at you. “He’s gone.”
It was like the five stages of grief flashed in your eyes simultaneously - merging together but still so distinguishable.
“No, he’s not.” You whimpered, “He’s in his cabin. I just saw him barely an hour ago-”
“He tried to kill Percy,” Annabeth finally breathed out. “He wants to overthrow the gods.”
You shook your head, a disbelieving laugh leaving your lips as you ran a trembling hand through your hair, moving up the white flower crown until it was lopsided on your head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said through gritted teeth, “Luke wouldn’t do that. I know him. I know him. He wouldn’t. It must’ve been- been a shapeshifter or something. I mean, with all the other monsters out there there has to be a shapeshifter right? Yeah. That’s all it was. It wasn’t Luke.”
Percy squeezed the table in front of him until his knuckles were white, doing his best to choke down his tears. It was a tempting idea, one that he’d have no problem believing if it hadn’t been for the look in Luke’s eyes. No monster could recreate that kind of rage.
“It was him,” Percy spoke up, “I know it was.”
“You don’t know anything!” You yelled, eyes wild and skin paling, “You don’t know Luke like I do! He wouldn’t do this! Sure, he gets mad at the gods sometimes, but don’t we all? It doesn’t mean we’re gonna up and start a whole rebellion!”
Grover attempted to reach out to you, tears forming in his dark eyes, “I know it’s hard-” He attempted, but you practically jumped away from him. “Don’t touch me.” You growled lowly, pointing an accusing finger in his face. Grover didn’t argue.
Everyone in the room stared at you in pity, and it made you sick. You’d show them. Luke was in his cabin right now, probably trying to sleep or playing with one of the younger campers. Because that’s what Luke does - that’s the Luke you know.
You were the love of his life. He’d told you just two days ago during a secret picnic on the beach way past your curfew. You’d choked up, but told him the same through your tears. Luke had kissed you so hard you swore you were seeing stars, and you remember thinking this kiss had felt different than all the others. Almost desperate, like he was trying to grasp onto something he knew he was losing.
No.
Luke was in his cabin.
You’d left the Big House without even a grunt, practically sprinting across camp to the Hermes cabin. You didn’t care about the weird looks the stragglers were giving you, didn’t care about the soft ache in your legs. You needed to see Luke. Needed to feel him. Needed to intertwine your souls again.
You were panting by the time you reached it, throwing the doors open and looking around wildly. “Luke?” You called, voice breaking a bit as you did.
“Y/N?” someone said, you didn’t know their name. Or maybe you did. You honestly couldn’t remember right now, the only thing running through your mind was Luke.
“Have you seen Luke?” You asked.
The camper shook her head, blonder hair falling in front of her face as she did. “Hey, are you okay-”
You were gone before she could even finish her sentence. You spent hours searching for him, like he was a pair of house keys you’d lost and desperately needed in order to go home.
The moon was high into the sky by the time you stop, your vision blurry with tears and muscles burning. You’d even prayed to your father at some point - which was something you rarely ever did.
You fall to your knees in the grass, hand clutching at the golden bracelet on your wrist. Like had given it to you two nights ago on the beach, embroided in it were the letters “LOML.”
He’dtold you it was because you were the love of his life, but right now in this moment, with your chest puffing and knees weak, you think it may stand for something else.
Because while you may be the love of Luke Castellan’s life, he was the loss of yours.
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imfinereallyy · 2 days
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I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 2
pt. 1
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
June 1996, Chicago
Steve doesn’t exactly know when Eddie Munson became one of his best friends, let alone when he fell in love with him.
He supposes both things occurred between the end of the world, and Eddie’s back walking out the door for the last time, unbeknownst to anyone. Though, that is five years of time, who’s to say when it really happened.
Dustin will argue the friend part. He likes to think it was he who brought them together (it certainly wasn’t; in fact, it put a real bump in the road for them). Dustin also thinks, which Steve is more inclined to think is true, that the two of them had become friends during Eddie’s slow recovery and Steve’s guilt complex, which made him feel responsible for him.
Which—ouch, Dustin—but years of therapy would prove him right.
Little shit.
Dustin doesn't know about the love part, though, and Steve doesn’t think much of the party knows except for one or two of the perceptive ones.
Looking at you, Lucas.
Robin likes to argue that Steve doesn’t know when he fell in love with Eddie because Eddie was different from everyone else.
Steve puts everything into love, moves fast, falls hard, and ultimately gets crushed by his own passion. Steve doesn’t know how to take things slow or wait around for the right person.
Until he did, with Eddie.
Steve managed to have a slow decent into the madness of loving a man like Eddie Munson. And he never did anything about it, although he didn't mind. Steve was okay with just being friends and loving from afar.
Until they weren't even that, and Eddie was gone.
Steve can't think about that now, instead he should probably worry about the man himself breaking into his apartment at 3 a.m.
"Get. Out." Robin hisses, breaking Steve from his thoughts.
Suddenly, Eddie stands. His hands thrust forward in a placating nature, and nervous energy radiates off of him. "Robin, please—"
"No, Munson. You don't get to disappear from our lives for five years, and then break into our apartment!" Robin whisper shouts, the metal bat waving around in her grip.
Steve still hasn't said anything, still unsure of any of it is really happening. But he can't help but warm at Robin's fierceness.
She will go down swinging for Steve, even against someone she cares about.
Fuck, he loved her.
"Give me one good reason not to bash your skull in with this thing, Munson. I dare you!" Robin took the metal bat and pushed it into Eddie's chest.
Steve gets a good look at him as he stumbles backward. He doesn't look much different—well that's a lie. He does look different; more tattoos, more piercings and Steve is pretty surprised to catch him wearing anything other than a band tee. It is just so all quintessentially Eddie. The jewelry is all silver, any tattoo he got after 1986 appears to be in black and red ink only. Even his tee is still black despite the lack of a band on the front.
"Birdie, I don't think you should have Steve's bat in your hands, you're a bit dangerous." Eddie tries to grab the bat from her hands but Robin yanks it back.
"Oh, fuck you, Munson! You don't get to call me Birdie, and this is my bat. Steve's is wooden and full of nails and underneath his bed. You should know that, or has the last five years really rotted your brain?" Robin is now waving the bat around with gusto, nearly missing Steve's head at one point.
Trying to shake himself from his frozen state, Steve decides it is probably in everyone's best interest if he steps in.
"Robs." Steve speaks gently, hand on the bat as he slowly lowers it down. Her shoulders drop, the fight draining out of her in seconds. "It's okay."
It's not okay. Steve doesn't understand what's happening right now. But Steve is okay as long as he has Robin, and Robin has him. Steve hopes she understands that's what he meant.
Robin nods her head, and shuffles closer to him.
Steve takes a shaky breath, "What are you doing here, Munson?"
Eddie cringes at the use of his last name but doesn't comment. "Listen, I know it's weird me just stopping by suddenly—"
Robin snorts, "I wouldn't exactly call breaking in 'stopping by'."
Eddie shakes his head, ignoring her. Stray curls start to fall loose from their bun. "I just want to talk, for you guys to hear me out."
Steve rubs a hand down his face, he is getting too old for this stuff. Being blindsided, being surprised—being thrown sideways and upside down. Sure, twenty-nine isn't exactly old, but Steve has lived practically six different lifetimes by now. There is so much damage to him—physically and emotionally. He is supposed to be past nonsense like this.
Robin takes his silence as permission to snip at Eddie, "No. Go away, Eddie. You don't get to do that. Get out."
Eddie moves a step forward, he is now illuminated completely by the side table's light. He looks tired—good but tired. It's not the kind of tired you see of someone in distress, not the ache that comes along in the tunnel that has no light in the end. No, Eddie looks tired in the way that comes with healing. Like working hard exhaustion. As if coming home from a long but good day at work, and the night grows weary.
Eddie opens his mouth to argue, but Steve cuts him off. "It's fine, Robbie. It's late; let him crash on the couch."
Eddie's shoulders sag in relief, "Thanks, Stevie, we can talk—"
"No." Steve chokes out, moving his hand towards his throat so he can remember to breathe. "You don't get to call me that. And we're not talking about anything. You'll sleep here, but that's it. I might not want you here, but it doesn't mean I'm going to let you wander the streets at night."
"Steve, please—" Eddie reaches out his hands to touch Steve. It is most likely going to be a gentle touch, but Steve can't help the way he violently flinches.
Eddie looks taken aback, eyes wide and full of sadness. He pulls his hands back.
"No, Eddie." Steve grabs Robin's hand and starts to pull her to bed. She doesn't protest and instead leans into his touch. Steve turns over his shoulder to look at Eddie again. "You'll stay the night. It's not an option. But my morning? I want you gone. I don't want you to be the first thing I see after sunrise."
Steve turns quickly back around, ignoring the pained grunt from behind him.
Bypassing Robin's bedroom, Steve pulls them both into his. Robin doesn't question it and instead makes herself comfortable in his forest green blankets.
Steve quickly follows after, snuggling into the bed beside her. People have thought them weird over the years—always in each other's spaces and knowing every little thing about each other. Partners, friends, family—all of them had something to say about it, never even bothering to understand.
Well, except Eddie. Eddie appreciated it, accepted it. Adored it at times.
"Are you really okay with this, Dingus?" Robin whispers softly between them.
"No." Steve never lies to Robin; she'll know. "Not at all, but I'm not going to let him wander the streets, no matter what I loved him at some point. I don't let the people I loved, get hurt."
Robin squints in pity, "Loved?"
"Not now, Bobbie," Steve whispers.
Robin nods, "Besides, I'm pretty sure 'Ed Sloane' can afford a fucking hotel room."
Steve lets out a loud snort, it echoes throughout the room. "God, don't remind me. What a stupid fucking name."
The two of them dissolve into giggles, bumping their heads together. Under the covers, they clasp their hands together tight. "I just don't want you to derail your life, for someone who walked so easily out of it. I know you have that important lunch with Drew tomorrow."
Steve takes a breathe through his nose, "Yea, I do. But it'll be fine. He'll be gone before I'm even up. You know Eds, he's a runner. Wouldn't stop trying to prove it, in fact."
Robin's face is scrunched in pain, and her eyes pool with pity. It's as if she knows something Steve doesn't or sees something he chooses to ignore. She doesn't comment on it, though. Instead, she raises an eyebrow, "Eds?"
It isn't snippy or accusing. Her voice is soft against his cheek. Steve doesn't have the mental capacity to argue though. "G'night, Birdie."
"Goodnight, Stevie." She whispers.
Steve closes his eyes, knowing it will all feel like a dream tomorrow.
Steve is familiar with having dreams with Eddie in them.
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
more to come i promise, especially after your (loving demands). especially my mutuals who yelled at me in the tags and my dm's (it made my day).Part 3 is currently being typed up. Also might fuck around and make this a full-blown ao3 one shot; who knows.
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