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unsolvedjarin · 7 months

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omg after reading part two of the mentor!seb x ferrari driver!reader fic i NEED something where he actually tries to play matchmaker for reader and mick😭 Like him giving so many hints but reader is just oblivious and Seb decides to take matter into his own hands yk?

Only if you’re open to it ofc! 🥰🥰

BEES, AMONG OTHER THINGS.

pairing: (mick schumacher x driver! reader) (mentor! sebastian vettel x reader)

note: HEY. i havent written anything in weeks and its been KILLING me. ive been so burnt out lately its crazy, but seeing seb in suzuka did give me a bit of motivation (although this is more of a mick-centric fic, my boy deserves it.) anyways sorry for letting this stew for so long anon, hopefully i can write more soon ive missed it tbh

summary: suzuka finds itself not only an interesting spot for bee hotels, but for reunions and confrontations as well.

content warning: none, except its a little all over the place and once again i havent grammar checked this im so sorry it’s three in the morning

previous part, but can be read without <3

When Sebastian invited the grid to his bee hotel opening, he expected maybe five or six people to come, but not this.

Everyone was coming.

And by everyone, I mean everyone. The drivers, the reserves, even the team principals, had all confirmed their appearance for the event. Sebastian knew he was loved by the grid, but the thought of all of them coming together for him still made his heart swell.

It was one in the afternoon, just thirty minutes before they were about to actually start the event. While the participation of the drivers were confirmed, they were still coming in one by one, some later than the others. Sebastian was in a particularly interesting conversation with Fernando about flowers when a poke to his shoulder captured his attention.

He turned around to find you, standing there behind him, waiting for him to finish his conversation with excitement you couldn’t contain. It was the first time you’ve seen each other since Silverstone, and even then you barely had time to talk to each other.

Before he could say anything, you jumped into his arms and hugged him so tight that Sebastian thought he would lose oxygen— but he still hugged you back with equal enthusiasm.

“Sebastian!” you screamed, being spun around once by the man. He missed you so much. Sebastian wasn’t particularly the greatest texter, and calling wasn’t something you were fond of, so besides the occasional visit you barely talked.

“Y/N, I thought you’d never come,” he says with a grin. He knew you were coming, of course. You would never miss out on this. You give him a playful shove, before giving Fernando a quick hug as well. In the year Seb has been gone, you had gotten closer with the Aston Martin driver who replaced him.

Fernando excuses himself quickly after, knowing you and Sebastian had some catching up to do. “Don’t tell me you’ve replaced me with him,” Sebastian jokes the second the Spaniard was out of earshot.

“Why, are you jealous?” you teased. He scoffs in reply, but you could hear the hint of jealousy in his tone. “Don’t worry Seb, while I love his talk about flowers, you talking my ear off about bees still appeals to me more.”

That makes him smile.

“I’m glad you prefer my infodumping, then.”

The fact that you taught him that term makes your grin even wider. “Anytime.”

You wanted to talk with him more, to tell him how you’ve been doing the past few months, but before you could, some PR person swooped in to film some videos with him.

“Ah, sorry liebling,” Sebastian sighs. He leans in and whispers in your ear, “One thing I haven’t missed are these media hungry people.”

You stifle a giggle, before nudging him away from you. “Go on, it’s your event, this is your own doing.”

He rolls his eyes but walks away nonetheless, following the person from the media. Before he moves out of earshot, however, he shouts, “Oh by the way, Mick is here! Don’t be shy, go talk to him.”

Oh the bastard.

Half the grid must have heard that. You look at him with shock and a light blush on your cheeks but are met only with a cheeky grin from the man before he turns around to fully walk away.

Admittedly though, he was right. You hadn’t been talking to Mick much. You had a few lunches with him after Seb retired but without his third wheeling company, it just felt awkward to go out with the reserve driver one on one. You started thinking he just ate with you because he felt bad for you or something of the sort.

“Penny for your thoughts?” A voice snaps you out of your thinking.

“Jesus! Lewis, don’t give me a heart attack like that.”

The Mercedes driver laughs before replying, “Sorry, you just looked tense. Thinking about the race?”

“Not really, just some other stuff.”

“Like what? Like Mick?”

You almost choked on your own saliva right there and then. “Wh- what? What would— haha— make you think that? No that’s crazy, I’m just thinking about the bees! Yeah, because like the bee hotel and stuff I love b—”

“Sebastian wasn’t really quiet talking to you just then, you know.” He comments, cutting you off.

“Oh I’ll kill him.”

“Doubt it, you’ve missed him too much these past months to kill him immediately.”

“Touché, maybe I’ll wait a few more then.”

“Stop avoiding the question, why’re you thinking about Mick?” Lewis asks, not giving the topic up. Oh what the hell, Sebastian trusts him right? So you could trust him.

Thinking of how you could word your thoughts properly, you start, “I kinda— I dunno— I mean he’s a nice guy, he’s pretty sweet, and we’re friends obviously so it’d be—”

“You like him don’t you.” Lewis cuts you off for the second time in a row.

“Yeah.”

“Damn,” he sighs, letting it linger for a moment. “That’s crazy.”

A beat of silence passes. “You’re not gonna say anything else?”

“Say anything else about what?” Sebastian butts in your conversation, clearly just having finished his short interview. He takes his place beside you, scooching in between you and Lewis instead of taking up the free space on the other side.

“Oh, Y/N was just talking about how she likes Mick.”

“Was not!” You exclaim.

“Was too,” Lewis retorts. His teasing never ceased to amuse and annoy you at the same time.

“I think I’m going to believe Lewis on this one. After all, you did tell me, and I quote, you ‘sorta have a little maybe crush’ on Mick.”

You hang your mouth agape incredulously before slapping Seb on the arm, “I told you that in confidence!”

Seb laughs before defending himself, “Well Lewis knows now! Besides, it’s not like you’ve been that discrete about it.”

You look at Lewis who shrugs in reply, “It’s true. Pretty obvious when a Ferrari driver keeps hanging around the Mercedes garage, mate.”

Oh well, cat’s out of the bag. There’s no point in keeping it secret from Lewis now, you think. Putting your head in your hands, you groan, “That’s the problem! I’m always at the Mercedes garage talking to you or Toto or even George but never him!”

“Well why don’t you…talk to him?”

“Great advice Sherlock, gee, got any more good ones for me?” You ask Sebastian sarcastically. While you and Seb banter though, Lewis recalls a conversation he had with Mick one late night back in Singapore.

“Hey Lew, was Y/N here earlier?”

Lewis, who was packing up to go home, redirects his focus to the only remaining guy in the garage save for a few engineers. “Yeah, she visited right after the race to congratulate me. Why’re you looking for her?”

“Oh nothing, just asking.” Mick replies, fiddling with his hands. Even in his tired state, Lewis could tell that there was more the young driver wasn’t saying.

“C’mon, spit it out.” Lewis says, taking a seat on a random chair and patting the one beside him for Mick to take a seat. The younger driver hesitates for a moment before sighing and sitting down. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Better than anyone. Do you know what happened when Alonso crashed his McLaren back in 2015?”

“No, what?”

“Exactly,” Lewis replies with a grin. “So what is it?”

“I…” Mick sighs, unable to find the right words for what he was trying to say. “I think I like Y/N.”

There, it’s out in the open, he thinks. Mick waits for a reply from Lewis, but gets none. “Hello?”

Another beat of silence.

“Okay, this is starting to scare me.”

Lewis finally snaps out of his trance-like state, before getting up and continuing to pack up his things. “Okay.”

“That’s it? Okay?”

“Well I thought it’d be something more secretive,” he says, putting up bunny ears.

“It is secretive,” Mick replies, mocking Lewis’ bunny ears. “No one knows.”

“Eh, I’m not so sure about that mate. I mean if you exclude Sebastian, Fernando, Toto, and myself, then sure, no one knows.”

Oh shit. Was he that obvious? “How- how did you all figure it out?”

“Well for one, if constantly tailing Sebastian and Y/N last year was your attempt at being discreet, then it was a horrible attempt. Second, you need to stop turning red and running away whenever she’s at the garage giving out food and what not. I can’t keep asking her for extra donuts for you forever, you know?”

Mick blushed slightly at the comment, not realizing how every time you came around to the garage he’d been unwillingly avoiding you out of fear you wouldn’t want to talk to him.

Lewis pats Mick on the back, getting ready to leave. “Listen man, if I were you, I’d make a move. That opportunity won’t last forever, plus, it seems like they like you back. Didn’t you guys go out together just the two of you a couple of times?”

Mick shrugged, “I don’t know, I mean I think she did that just because she felt bad for me being alone in the grid and because she missed Sebastian.”

Lewis internally rolled his eyes. He’s seen the way you look at Mick, there’s no way you didn’t like him too. “You have to stop doubting yourself. I mean the worst she can do is say no, right?”

“The worst she can do is avoid me for the rest of my life because I misread all the signs and she actually hates me.”

“That’s the spirit!” Lewis replied sarcastically, before murmuring a goodbye and leaving the garage.

That was weeks ago now, but the conversation was still stuck in Lewis’ head. He’d been right all along, you did like Mick back.

“Hey Seb, can I talk to you in private really quickly?” He speaks up, making you and the retired driver stop your bantering for a moment.

“You can say it in front of Y/N, it’s fine.” Seb replied. He trusted you completely with anything and everything.

“Well not if it’s about her.”

“Hey!” you complain. “Are you openly gossiping about me?”

“Listen, if you want our help, then let us huddle for a minute.”

Rolling your eyes, you sigh and nod at them. You really really liked Mick, but you were too much of a pussy to do anything about it. So if these two old twats could help you, then so be it.

Lewis pulls Seb to the side for a moment, inhaling deeply before talking softly so you couldn’t hear. “Okay, so here’s the thing. Mick told me he likes Y/N.”

Sebastian whips his head to face Lewis, “Holy shit, I knew it. I knew he wasn’t going out with us all the time last year for no reason.”

“Yeah, he’s not so discreet. Here’s the problem though, he firmly believes Y/N may hate him, and you know that Y/N believes Mick only likes her as a friend.”

“So what you’re saying is they’re both hopeless?”

“Without our help, basically yes.”

“God I can’t believe they haven’t caught a clue,” Sebastian sighs. “I even excused myself from multiple meals so I could leave the two of them alone even for a few minutes.”

“You’re telling me mate, I basically had to shove Mick towards her whenever she was at the garage or in hospitality.”

Meanwhile, while the two men were devising on their own, you were getting antsy. What could they possibly be coming up with? You didn’t really want to think about it too much, so you decided to take a walk around the track. After all, the event was about to start, so you might as well familiarize yourself with your surroundings.

You went through the unpainted bee hotels, admiring their woodwork and the effort it must’ve taken to make them. Sebastian had sent you a text at three in the morning yesterday saying “Finished! :-)” with a picture of the bee hotels attached, so you knew he put hard work into this project. You were happy that he was doing something he loved while retired, but at the same time you missed him terribly on the grid. It was lonely, you will admit, without him by your side. Sure you had your teammate Charles and the support of your fellow drivers, but it never felt like anyone truly knew you on the track besides Seb.

Stuck in your thoughts, you failed to notice the man who was walking up behind you mustering the courage to strike a conversation. You turn around to check out another bee hotel when you bump straight into Mick walking up to you.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

“Ow—” you hold your head in pain, which you bumped into the bee hotel roof when you recoiled backwards from the hit. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

Great, Mick thought. Now what?

You’ve made a fool of yourself, congratulations, you thought.

Sebastian was about to walk over to see what all the commotion was about, when Lewis put a hand out and stopped him. “Look who bumped into her.”

Sebastian squinted a little— his eyesight had gotten worse but he refused to get glasses— and grins when he realizes who it is. “Best leave them to it then, I have an event to organize anyways.”

Meanwhile, Mick had no clue what to do. You were holding your head in pain, with your eyes closed trying to regain stability from the dizziness, and he was just standing there awkwardly trying to figure out what the right move was. Should he ask you again if you were alright? Should he hold you to stabilize you?

Well, why not both. Without thinking, he holds your shoulders, crouching down a little to look you in your eye, and asking a simple “You okay?”

You open your eyes, squinting because of the sun, and are met with a set of beautiful blue ones staring at you. Holy fucking shit. Now you don't know what to do.

“Uh— yeah, just hit my head. No biggie honestly, all good here,” you reply awkwardly. God, was it this hard to talk to him when Sebastian was around?

Mick lets go of your shoulders— you miss his touch already— and straightens up, nodding. “Good. Sorry for hitting you, I thought you heard me walking up.”

“No, it’s my fault honestly. Was stuck in my own thoughts. Nice that you pulled me out,” you joked, praying to whatever higher power was listening that it stuck.

Thankfully it did, and Mick let out a small giggle at your quip. It was enough for your stomach to do flips. And even though you had no clue, you joking around with him made his stomach do the same thing too. The simple interaction was enough to make him think that maybe you weren’t just hanging around with him before because you pitied him.

“You know,” Mick starts, before he loses confidence to breach the topic. He was here anyway, so might as well. “You’re always at the Mercedes garage but I never see you. I am sorry about that.”

You raised an eyebrow at him in confusion. Why was he sorry? You were the one who avoided him out of nervousness whenever you were there.

“You don’t have to be sorry about that, honestly, that’s my fault anyway. Same with our lunches before, I’m sorry we did those less and less. I guess I got too caught up in the races. We should have another one here in Japan!” You add the last part haphazardly, not really thinking about what you’re saying because if you do you’ll lose confidence.

It was too late when you realized what you said, and terrified to see Mick’s reaction to the invitation, you stare at anything but him. Wow, the sky was blue today. How interesting.

Mick, on the other hand, was frozen on the spot. Did he hear that correctly? Were you inviting him to lunch for the first time in months?

Before the reserve driver could get his hopes up, however, he realized what was different this time. Sebastian was around.

Oh. Maybe that was the only reason you invited him this time around. Because, again, like before, you felt sorry for him being alone and you had the confidence to ask him because Sebastian was here.

“Would…Sebastian be coming?” He asked. He wasn’t a religious man by any means, but he begged God at that moment you would say no. He had nothing against the retired driver of course, he was like an uncle to him, but it would determine— for him at least— if you were going out with him out of pity or because you actually wanted to.

You, on the other hand, had a completely different interpretation of that question.

Did Mick not want to have lunch with you without Sebastian because he didn’t want to spend time with you? Did he feel like you were too awkward? Too weird? You stopped yourself before you could spiral even more.

“I mean, do you want him to?”

“Honestly? No.” Mick hears himself say without thinking. His eyes widened a bit at the fact that he said that aloud, making you giggle. It lifts the tension a bit and the air feels freer talking to him.

“Tsk tsk, I’ll make sure to tell him that.”

“Please don’t, I’ll never hear the end of it. I just meant—” Mick pauses for a second, finding it difficult to word his thoughts.

Oh fuck it. Fuck it all. “I want it to be you, just you.”

Oh.

“Oh.” Before Mick can regret saying anything and repeatedly apologize for the implications of what he said, you tug on his shirt a little to get him to look at you. “Me too.”

He lets out a sigh of relief, laughing a bit at himself. “Thank god, I thought I made the wrong move there.”

“God no,” you laugh out. “I’m glad you said that honestly, I thought you just hung out with me before for Sebastian.”

Mick raised his eyebrows in confusion. Was that what you’d been thinking this whole time? “I thought you were just hanging out with me because you felt bad I was alone without Seb.”

This time you both look at each other, confused. You had both gotten it completely wrong.

The absurdity of it all makes you burst out laughing, and you try to cover it up with your hand but to no avail. “I’m sorry I just— ha!— I can’t believe I’ve been reading it wrong this whole time! I even avoided you in the garages because I thought you felt awkward around me.”

“I hid whenever you were at the garage because I thought you didn’t wanna talk to me,” Mick replied bashfully, scratching the back of his neck. “In hindsight, that was pretty stupid, I suppose I wouldn’t ever know if you liked talking to me or not if I kept avoiding you.”

“Hold on, is that why Lewis always asked for extra food when I came around?”

“Yeah,” he answered, feeling embarrassed. It all felt so foolish now.

“That was stupid,” you tease. “So…what now?”

“I suppose we can just,” Mick gestures aimlessly with his hands. “Restart.”

You smile at him, liking the simplicity of the idea. After dancing around each other for a year, this is exactly what you wanted. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

“What you were saying earlier, lunch? I know a good place. It’s pretty far from the track, but they have the best ramen and— hello Seb…?”

Unbeknownst to you, Sebastian had slowly inched himself closer to where you two were standing, trying to overhear your conversation. He was now stood a few meters away from you, pretending to be taking care of his bee hotel.

“You sneaky bastard!” you exclaim, slapping him on his shoulder for the second time that day. “How long have you been eavesdropping on our conversation?”

“I just got here!” Sebastian replied, trying to defend himself. He’d actually been standing there for a couple minutes, but if none of you had noticed, then it was better for him to not bring it up. “Anyway, I came to say we’re starting the event. Charles is looking for you at the Ferrari station, Y/N.”

Sebastian moves to leave, but turns back around, standing beside you. “And Mick, if it’s no bother, you could come with me and Y/N to Disneyland on Tuesday. Only if you’d like, of course.”

“We’re going to Disneyland?” You ask, but a quick glance at Sebastian's expression and you realize what he was trying to do. “Oh! Yeah, we totally planned on going to Disneyland. You should come with us.”

“Yeah! Sure, I have nothing to do anyways. And lunch on Monday, Y/N?” Mick replies. You give him a soft smile and nod in response.

Seb looks at you in confusion, “Am I part of these lunch plans?”

“No.”

“Great to know. Anyways, to the Ferrari station liebe, chop chop,” Seb retorts, putting his arm around you to pull you towards the station. As much as he wanted you and Mick to talk more, he also wanted his event to get going.

“Talk later!” you shout, being practically dragged by Sebastian. Mick laughs at the sight, waving a goodbye to you and the retired driver. He felt like he won the lottery. You might not like him the way he liked you, but this was a start. This meant that you hung around him for him.

“Was the plan you and Lewis came up with simply inviting Mick to go to Disneyland?” You ask, the second you were far away enough from Mick.

Sebastian shrugs, “Yeah, basically.”

“Oh you pricks. Thank God I didn’t rely on you two then.”

“Hey! We tried,” Seb remarked. “But we saw you two getting along without our help so we decided to leave you two to it. What did you even talk about?”

“Our shared hatred for you,” you replied with no hesitation. You look over at Sebastian with a grin, watching him roll his eyes, smiling.

“Well if that’s what it took for you two to talk, then I’d happily be the butt of your conversations.”

God. Why did he have to be so nice about it? “I’m just kidding Seb, we just cleared up some misunderstandings. Honestly we should’ve talked sooner, it was such a relief to find out I’d just been overthinking our interactions.”

“Like you do with half of all things, schatz,” Sebastian says softly, smiling at you. He was right, you did overthink too much.

“I know,” you sigh. “I’m trying to change.”

“That’s great, but you know what you should try first before that?” Seb asks with a playful look on his face. He comes to a stop in front of a bee hotel and grabs a paintbrush from beside it, putting it in your hands. “You should try participating in the event.”

“Cheeky bastard,” you mutter, grinning. You didn’t even notice you had walked all the way to the Ferrari station until then. You greet Charles, who was already there, before facing Sebastian again. “Still can’t believe you and Lewis’ plan was just Disneyland. Remind me to never trust you ever again.”

“Love you too,” Seb retorts sarcastically, grinning as he walks away to assist the other drivers. You shake your head with a smile, before facing the bee hotel again. Cheeky bastard.

Sebastian and Lewis had planned more than just Disneyland of course, they weren’t stupid. But the first phase of their plan was complete. Sebastian smiled to himself as he watched Mick talking to Lewis at the Mercedes station, ready to operate the second part of their ‘genius’ plan.

It was going to be a long, interesting week for all of them.

#mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher x you #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel #formula one #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #a tiny crumb as in the tiniest of vettonso #because i can #writing

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winterrrnight · 1 month

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heartless

PAIRING: rafe cameron x dark!fem!pogue!reader

SUMMARY: rafe finds out you've been dating him only for the money.

WARNINGS: dark content! dark!reader, naive!rafe, reader is a liar, a manipulator, dishonest, two faced, takes a big advantage of rafe, usage of guns, threatening, poor rafe is oblivious to it all (he's just blinded by one sided love), minimal swearing, minimal usage of nicknames, alcohol consumption, reader lowkey believes in toxic masculinity, rafe is kinda a crybaby, it's also longer than my usual stuff + please let me know if I missed something!

EDITH SPEAKS: my second ever dark!fic! just like before, dark!content is something I've just gotten into, so this clearly isn't the best dark stuff you've read, but I promise I put in a 100% effort. please please heed all the warnings and make sure you proceed only if you are comfortable with each and every single one of them! if you liked reading this, please reblog and please please let me know what you think of this! 🌩️

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somewhere far along this road he lost his soul to a woman so heartless

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

You enter Tannyhill, a huge smile on your face as your fingers remain hooked through the expensive branded gift bags, the black credit card of your near and dear boyfriend in the back pocket of your pants.

“Baby I’m home!” You say out loud as you enter, keeping the humongous amount of gift bags in your hand on the couch of the living room. You hear footsteps echo as they transcend down the stairs, and you turn around to see Rafe making his way to you.

“Hi baby,” he smiles as he wraps his arms around your waist and presses a kiss to your lips. “What did you get?”

You gesture your head to the couch and Rafe sees the enormous amount of bags on the couch. He knows you like to shop, and he never refuses to buy you anything because he believes you deserve it so much; never ever denying you when you approach him with a puppy dog look on your face asking for a shopping trip, which basically melts him into a puddle.

He always accompanies you to your shopping trips, his arm slinging around your shoulders as you both hit store after store in the mall, buying whatever you ask for, and he doesn’t think twice before swiping his card in the machine. He knows you haven’t lived in the best financial conditions as you grew up; that’s what it meant if you lived on The Cut. When you got together, he was more than determined to always give you gifts, his way of covering up all the things he believed you deserved to have but never had a chance to own.

But today, you suddenly had a need to hit the mall again when you had been there not even a week ago, and you had already bought a lot. But Rafe isn’t one to say no to you; how can he say no to your cute face? So you are sent off with a driver with his credit card given safely to you as he himself is busy with some business work.

And right now, here you are with the biggest number of handbags he’s ever seen you with. His eyebrows furrow in the slightest as he looks at how the couch is completely covered with the gift bags from exorbitant stores; the bags themselves cost a lot on their own.

“What happened baby?” You ask as you see him eyeing the couch. He turns to you and lets a smile spread on his face as he gives a peck to your forehead.

“Nothin’ baby,” he says softly. “Did you have fun at your little shopping spree?” Little? Hell nah.

“Yes it was absolutely wonderful,” you smile.

“Good good,” he mutters, smiling a little.

“Oh I’ve got brunch date at the country club with my girls today,” you say, pulling away from him, his arms now falling back to his sides. “Are you done with your work?”

“No,” he sighs. “I have to head to the office in a bit,”

“Oh,” you sigh, a pout on your face. “Such a shame… ’cause I was wondering you could come too,”

He smiles softly, gently moving to caress your cheek with his thumb. “It’s okay baby, you have fun with your girlfriends yeah? You and me can go some other time,”

You just nod at his reply and tell him how you absolutely can’t go to the country club in the same outfit you wore in the mall, and you need to have a wardrobe change. He watches you make your way to the couch and pick two out of the numerous handbags and make your way up the stairs. As you walk, he can see his credit card peeking out of your back pocket. He opens his mouth to ask for it, but then shuts it back realizing you’ll need it at your brunch with the girls.

He just lets out a small sigh before busying himself with more of his work for the business.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

Rafe rubs his eyes as he leans his head back against the cushioned back of his chair, letting out a groan of complete exhaustion. His eyes flick to the digital clock sitting on his table, the numbers 12.53 am flashing back at him. He blinks his eyes multiple times before focusing back to his laptop screen, left with just the end of the work.

As he gets himself back into the working mindset, a little notification pops at the right bottom corner of his screen. Narrowing his eyes, he reads the notification.

As his eyes run over the words, they widen more and more with each passing second.

Your credit card has been declined. Unfortunately we haven’t been able to process your payment.

Right before his eyes, the same notification appears two times more, flashing momentarily at the corner before it disappears itself.

It disappears itself from the screen, but not from his mind. The little notification with its white background and dark blue text remains ingrained in his brain, and it’s as if that’s the only image he’s only ever known.

He quickly gets his phone and opens up the texts between you and him, the last one being him asking you if you’ve reached the country club safely and you replying back with a simple ‘yes’. He hasn’t had any time to go back home as he’s been stuck in his office since the afternoon.

All you said was you were going to have brunch with your girls, so that’s when the credit card should’ve been used. But why is he getting notifications about his card being declined at 1 in the morning?

The notifications are quiet shady, because they don’t reveal where the transaction is being made and is failing, it just tells him the credit card is declined.

He logs into the credit card company’s portal on his laptop, and looks around to find what balance is left in his card. And there he sees it.

The balance is negative.

And not any small number, a big one at that.

-$1000 is written on his screen in a bright, red font, that number being the only thing that can attract his attention throughout the entire mundane black webpage.

Rafe stares at the screen in disbelief – clearly you’re out there somewhere with his card and you’ve overpaid, and now transactions aren’t taking place.

Despite having a little too much money in his card, he never expected for you to ever overpay. He knew it was a huge privilege for you to have so much of something you never before had in your life, but he never expected you to be reckless…

He shakes his head, getting the thought out of his head. No, it’s just some kind of mistake, he thinks, and as if right on cue, his phone rings. He sees that it’s in fact you calling him. He quickly swipes his thumb across the screen, accepting the call.

“Rafeeee,” you whine on the other side, and Rafe realizes you’re drunk out of your mind.

“Baby, where are you?” He asks, his brows furrowed as he anticipates your reply.

“Your card isn’t working anymore,” you slur. “Come on, I just needed some stuff!”

“Where are you?” He asks again, more sternly this time.

“I’m out… are you not listening to me? Your goddamned card isn’t working!”

“Yeah ’cause you used the last of the money in it!” He snaps. “I’m asking you again: where are you?”

“Fuck you!” He hears you slur out loud, and the next second, all he hears is the monotonous beeping, meaning you’ve cut the call.

Rafe sighs, slamming his phone on his table as he holds his hair in his hands, his fingers scrunching around his hair strands as he pulls onto them, hard enough to cause blinding pain in his scalp, feeling as if he’ll just rip his hair out. He slams his laptop shut and gets up from his office chair, deciding to retreat to home for now.

You aren’t telling him where you are, and he most certainly isn’t going to go around looking for you.

The best he can do right now is sleep, and worry about the negative balance in his card the next morning.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

Rafe’s eyes snap open when he feels something cool being pressed into his forehead. It takes him a second but he makes out your outline in the dark room, blinking a few times to adjust to the bare amount of light in the room.

“Rafe…” your cold voice cuts through the darkness of the room.

It’s dead silent, and Rafe’s ears can only process his own deep breathing. Not yours – it feels like you aren’t breathing, you’re just standing silently.

A breeze blows outside, causing the flimsy curtains hanging in front of his window to fly to the side for the moment, letting the white moonlight to leak in through the room.

And he sees it.

He catches the cold look in your eyes, as if they’re dead, not a single emotion swirling in the depths of them. His breath gets caught in his throat, and he slowly turns his head up to find the cause of the cold feeling on his forehead.

A sharp click is heard, and the pressure against his forehead is increased, causing him to let out a shaky breath.

“Now you know I won’t hesitate to pull the trigger,” your voice is cool, emotionless, and monotone. You push the muzzle of the gun more against his forehead. “Tell me where the money is, and I’ll let you go unharmed.”

“What money?” Rafe croaks out, his heart thumping loudly in his chest.

A moment passes.

Another moment passes.

All Rafe hears is the rhythmic, yet fast thumping of his heart deep against his eardrums.

“I know the credit card wasn’t the only money you have,” you say. Your voice is so calm, it terrifies the smallest, thinnest nerve in his body. “I know you’ve got money – cash somewhere in here. I used to keep my eye on it. You moved it, didn’t you? It’s not in its usual location.”

Rafe’s eyes widen as he turns his head to his left just slightly and sees the doors of his wardrobe opened, drawers pulled out they’re threatening to fall out, and all his clothes are messed up, unorganized as if someone went through them frantically to find something.

He slowly turns his head back to you, realizing you always knew about the cash he keeps hidden behind his clothes in the wardrobe for all sorts of emergencies.

“I don’t have it,” he mumbles, his eyes widening, and you can clearly see the fear swirling around in his baby blues.

“Liar,” you snap, pushing the muzzle of the gun even harder into his forehead, which causes him to let out a wince. “Now’s not the time to fuck around a’ight? Tell me where it is, and I’ll let you go-”

“No,” he says silently, cutting you off. He’s trying his best to not be afraid of you, to not let it show. But, his shallow, erratic breaths leaving his rubied lips show something entirely different.

Right in the next second, you take the gun away from his forehead and direct it to your right, pulling the trigger with ease as a loud bang echoes throughout Tannyhill. Rafe flinches at the sudden sound which causes ringing in his ear, his eyes shut closed as a reflex. The sound of glass cracking and bursting echoes as an aftermath. He slowly opens his eyes and looks to his left, and sees the lamp on the bedside table absolutely shattered to pieces.

You now place the gun directly on his throat, digging it into his skin harshly. You push his face up with the gun, forcing him to make eye contact with you, which causes his hair to fall in his eyes. Through the hair in his eyes, he catches the glimpse of the crazed, wide eyed look you have.

It gets dead silent, and Rafe can still hear the bang of the gun and the breaking of the glass in the back of his head. You slowly pull the trigger, but not completely, and Rafe’s breath hitches in his throat as he hears the silent creak of the trigger being pulled.

“One last time…” you whisper, your voice having an eerie touch to it. “Where’s the fucking money?”

You notice the glassy layer of tears forming in his eyes, and you groan, throwing your head back.

“Stop being such a crybaby and man up!” You yell. “Just tell me where the goddamned money is!”

Rafe’s lips part slightly, and he raises a shaky hand, pointing to something behind you. You turn around to see he’s pointing to a safe kept safely away in a corner.

You let out an exhale as you turn your attention back to Rafe, the gun still digging into his skin. “What’s the pass?”

“4-” he starts to speak but his words get caught in his throat. “4, 3, 1, 7, 9, 5,” he mumbles out, squeezing his eyes shut as he feels the gun digging in his skin starting to form a bruise.

You look at him for a moment, and then slowly take the gun off his neck. He lets out a shaky breath and moves his fingers to the skin, and as predicted, he can feel an indent in his skin.

“Good boy,” you mutter as you walk to the safe and put in the combination. As you put it in, the safe opens and voila, there are stacks and stacks of dollar bills kept safely inside. You take them out and put it in the bag you had with you, making your way to the door.

“Rafe?” You say as you turn to look at him, and he notices your ‘sweet’ tone coming back in. “I hope you remember it’s our 1 year anniversary tomorrow, yeah? I’ve been eyeing this diamond necklace for ages. We’ll go to the jewelry store alright? And we’ll throw a party, at My Druthers of course. I need a new dress for that so we’ll shop for that too. I’ll see you tomorrow morning baby,” you smile as you open the door and leave, not giving Rafe even a moment to speak before the door is slammed shut with full force.

Rafe sits still for a moment, tears running down his cheeks silently as the past moments settle in him. Nothing could have ever prepared him for what just happened.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

“Yeah, I have the beach cleanup to attend tomorrow, and the soup kitchen volunteering is throughout the week, along with atleast three hours of working at The Wreck everyday, and the biweekly cleaning of the boats for Mr. Smith,” he hears you go on and on about your jobs to your friend JJ. “And then maybe we’ll have enough to pool it in and get ourselves some of that fancy champagne for your birthday J,”

He hears you sigh, taking a sip of your drink as you rest your back against the wall. “You know cheap beer will do it too right? We don’t have to go all out for the alcohol,” JJ tells you.

“Oh my god,” you roll your eyes at him. “It’s your 18th birthday! We are getting nice, expensive champagne for it, whether you like or not. Listen, I will have enough to buy it okay? There’s no way we aren’t having that on your birthday. We’ll be like Kooks for that day, with our champagne in those long ass glasses,” you giggle and JJ laughs with you too, nodding his head.

“That’s tempting you know? The part of wanting to feel like the Kooks,” he says.

“It sure is, and you deserve it alright? So I’ll make it happen for you,” you smile at him. You take the last sip of your drink and peer into the now empty cup. “I’ll be back alright?” You say, walking away from JJ.

Rafe watches you make your way to the bar, and decides to give you a follow. As you sit at a barstool, he sits at the one next to you, catching your eye.

“Well well well, if it isn’t the kook prince,” you smile smugly at him. He can’t help but smile back at you.

“In his full glory,” he says, his smile showing off his teeth.

“To what do I owe this pleasure, kook prince?” You ask. Rafe sees a certain glint in your eye; one that he is almost certain is of the same interest he is looking at you with.

“Let me buy you your drink, that’s all,” he says. He sees your eyebrows furrow, but they relax the next second and you nod.

“Okay…” you say, “but what’s the catch?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “No catch, saw your pretty face, and I just wanted to do something nice for you,”

He sees you say nothing, just a smile on your face as you receive your ordered drink and he tells the bartender to put it on his tab. You get up from the barstool with your drink firm in your hand.

“Will I see you around, kook prince?” You ask.

Rafe’s lips are tugged in a soft smile at your words.

“You sure will,”

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

That’s all he ever wanted.

He liked you, heck – he fell in love with you, and all he ever wanted was to relieve the pain of financial troubles off your shoulders. He always thought he had a lot of money – too much if he insists, and if it means it’ll help someone and provide them some financial stability, especially when that someone is the person he’s so deeply attracted to, he doesn’t mind, at all.

But what he didn’t catch is that you never loved him back the way he did. He loved to shower you with gifts and whatever your heart desired because he wanted to be there for you.

But did he ever expect you to get so up in your head that you’ll forget all about him and just see him as someone who can give you as much money as you’ll ever need?

Absolutely not.

The wind howls outside the open window, the safe is opened and every single note in it is taken away by you, his wardrobe is opened and clothes are spilling out from it, and he’s sitting, staring at the wall, his fingertips gently grazing over the indent on his neck as tears spill down his eyes.

He’s stuck, and you’ve made it really clear that he can’t back out of this.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @lunalitva @sadfury @shores-kayla @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @callsignwidow @starkowswife @drewstarkeyswifehoe @jjchaer @f4ll-for-you @wearemadeofstardust0 @drewsmusee @rafegirly @addriaenne @leighbronk @rafesdrew @bejeweledreverie @raf3sgff @aerangi @drewstarkey1bae @moneymaybank @spideysimpossiblegirl @the-tortured-poets-depxrtment @rafesgiirl @theoraekenslover @oceandriveab @valeskafics @diqldrunks @ladyinbl00d

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theragethatisdesire · 10 months

Text

"l’amore è cieco" - eren x reader - 18+!!!

back to the ti penso universe!!! finally!! did you guys miss it? i know i did; i am utterly obsessed with these two. i've had this sitting in my unfinished wip pile for way too long not to share.

our lovebirds have gotten the wedding all wrapped up with, so we're a solid four years past them reuniting in italy....and surprise! they're expecting!!!!! i could literally scream just writing that; the grip dad!eren has on me will never let up, i fear......anyways, this one's a little rough because i've picked it apart a thousand times and i'm just tired of editing, so you guys enjoy!!! sorry if it's not quite up to par :/

pairing: eren x reader

wc: 4k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, reader is pregnant, use of names (baby, mama, pretty, beautiful, etc), swearing, vaginal sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, lactation kink, creampie, crying, tooth-rotting fluff

title means "love is blind" in italian, per tradition w this verse <3

Right on schedule with your new daily, depressing routine, you stand in front of the mirror running your hands over your body, examining the recent changes. On second thought, scrutinizing might be a better word.

You’re grateful your job has allowed you to work from home for your entire pregnancy, editing articles from the journalists who can actually travel while snuggled up on your couch, but the downside of it is that you’ve had far too much time to mull on all of the ways your body has stretched and warped to accommodate the growing little girl in your stomach. You thought pregnancy was supposed to be beautiful, and sometimes it is, but more often than not, you just feel like a swollen, hormonal mess.

You “popped”, as all the mommy podcasts say, about two weeks ago, and thin stretch marks have begun to appear on your stomach. Eren calls them your “tiger stripes”, having been in full-blown cringe dad mode since the day you took the test. Bizarre cravings control you at all hours of the day, evidenced by the little black crumbs you’re picking out of your sports bra, left behind by your fourteen-Oreo breakfast today. You gaze longingly at the jewelry box on your bathroom counter; you haven’t been able to wear your wedding band in weeks, the tan line already beginning to fade from your finger. Before you can get a hold of yourself, the hormones have you in their grip, and hot, frustrated tears are spilling down your cheeks.

“Babe, have you seen that tie with the red–” Eren materializes in the doorway with absolutely no warning, as he’s prone to do, but cuts himself off at the sight of you, “baby, no, again?”

“Don’t say it like that,” you say, reluctantly allowing him to take you in his arms.

“Like what?” Eren’s voice is sweet, but hesitant. He’s been living under the constant threat of getting his head bitten off for mundane reasons because of you. It makes you feel worse, makes you shove him away and glare at him accusingly.

“Like I’m always fucking crying.” You are always crying, but you wish he would at least muster up some semblance of surprise at finding you in tears yet again. You turn away from him, wiping your face in the mirror. “Shouldn’t you be packing? Your flight leaves in like, three hours.”

“I’ll cancel,” Eren coos, stepping behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, picking your belly up in his hands.

It’s some hack he got off Tik Tok, supposed to take the weight off of your back for a precious moment, and as much as you don’t necessarily want to be touched right now, it actually helps. You’ve been alternating between thinking Eren’s overenthusiastic parenting research is adorable and mind-numbingly annoying, but for the moment, your back has stopped aching for the first time all morning, and you sigh, leaning into him.

“You can’t cancel,” you murmur, momentarily soothed, “‘s a big client. Where is it again? France?”

“I just got back from France, Miss Pregnancy Brain,” Eren chuckles, quieting immediately upon catching your lethal gaze in the mirror. “It’s just over in LA, and honestly, I could have Hitch go if you need me.”

“No, I can take care of myself, it’s just like…” a fresh wave of tears spills down your cheeks, “fuck, I don’t even know what’s wrong with me.”

Eren nods into your shoulder, letting you sniffle. It’s not a new trait, your outright refusal to ask for help, but it’s been exacerbated by your pregnancy, especially considering exactly how much help you actually need now.

You’ve taken custody of all of his sweatpants, not yet able to bring yourself to buy maternity clothes. You’d walked in sobbing and humiliated the other day because you’d peed yourself on the long elevator ride up to your apartment in front of the neighbors. You can’t sleep on your stomach anymore; Eren has to prop himself up just right beside you and sandwich you between himself and a wall of pillows to stop you from turning. You know it hurts him seeing you miserable, and you try to suck it up and enjoy the positives of pregnancy as much as you can, but you can’t muster up that strength every day.

“Hush,” Eren pulls your wet face to his chest, letting you stain the Number 1 Dad! t-shirt he had bought himself. “I’m not going.”

“Eren–”

“I’m not,” he says firmly, rubbing small circles into the bottom of your spine, “you need me here, whether you want to admit it or not.”

You grumble complacently, nuzzling into him. You do need him, as much as you want to think you can tough it out on your own. Eren’s bought book after book, not just for the baby, but for you. Most nights you find him reading titles like You’ve Made the Baby…Now What? or How to Survive Pregnancy: A Guide for Men with his feet propped up on the coffee table, a habit that, despite your efforts, you cannot nag him out of. It’s cute, honestly, how over-the-top he’s gotten with baby prep, especially when you’re often too exhausted to wrap your mind around reading a parenting guide.

“I feel ugly,” you admit quietly, sticky and snotty against his shirt. “I feel disgusting.”

“What?” Eren’s reaction is one of genuine confusion. He pushes you away from him so he can search your face, waiting patiently for you to elaborate.

“I’m gaining an obscene amount of weight, my ankles are the size of my knees, I can’t wear a single one of my rings, what am I supposed to feel like?”

Eren frowns. “Those things are supposed to happen. I read last night–”

“I don’t care!” Your voice cracks under the weight of your frustration, and you press your fingers into your eyes hard enough to see stars, trying to regain control of your temper. “I don’t care that it’s supposed to happen. It still sucks.”

“I think you’re beautiful,” Eren sounds earnest, but you scoff at him anyway.

“We’re married. You’re supposed to say that.”

“I don’t have to.”

You cock an eyebrow at him. “If you want your head to stay on your shoulders you do.”

Eren laughs at that, tugging you over to stand between his legs as he sits on the bed. “So, you’re serious? You genuinely don’t think you look good pregnant?”

“No,” you rub at your nose, “I don’t.”

Eren looks up at you, cupping your face gently. “I disagree.”

“Do you really?”

“I think you look better than ever.”

“That’s an insult to non-pregnant me,” you roll your eyes, moving to step away, but Eren holds you tight between his legs.

“It’s not,” he insists, “there’s just some things your pregnant body has that you didn’t necessarily have before. Some things that I like.”

You cock an eyebrow at him. “Cankles?”

Eren chuckles breathily, shaking his head. “I adore your cankles, but they weren't exactly the first thing that came to mind. Take these, for one thing.”

Eren presses his nose into your sports bra, hands moving up underneath to palm at your swollen tits. You let out a breathy laugh as he explores, already feeling a low heat beginning to simmer in your core. That’s one perk of entering your second trimester; your hormones might turn on a dime, but your sex drive has skyrocketed.

Eren shoves your bra up to free your tits, groaning appreciatively as he takes a nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking. You watch as he feels his way around with his mouth, humming contentedly under your breath, when suddenly, his eyes fly open and he shoots away from you.

“What?”

Eren shushes you, bringing a hand to the breast that had been in his mouth and squeezing lightly. White liquid beads on your nipple, and you cover your face in shame.

“When did that start?”

“A few days ago,” you admit, trying to push his hands off of you, cheeks burning. Eren swats you away, leaning back into your nipple, sucking harder. You can feel a small stream of milk leaving you, relieving some of the pressure in your tits; a moan rumbles deep in Eren’s chest, and you can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. Eren releases your nipple with a loud pop and looks up at you panting, eyes blown wide.

“Is it weird that that’s kinda hot?”

“Probably.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No,” you hum, threading your hands through his hair and urging him back to your chest, “feels good.”

That’s all Eren needs to hear, diving back into your chest with renewed vigor. As he continues, you realize it doesn’t just feel good, it actually feels incredible. You’ve always had sensitive breasts, but with the pregnancy, sensation has increased tenfold; you can feel your panties getting wetter as the weight of your full breast decreases. When Eren’s gotten all he can from your left nipple, he moves to your right, replacing his mouth on the now-abandoned nipple with his hand to twist gently at the wet skin.

The combined sensation makes your knees buckle; Eren saves you smoothly by wrapping an arm around your lower back, yanking you to him to straddle his leg. It’s the perfect angle for you to roll your hips against his thigh slowly, feeling the much-needed friction of his sweatpants against your cunt.

“Eren…” you breathe out, voice nothing more than a wisp of air.

“I know baby,” Eren speaks directly into your flesh, not willing to back away for even a moment, “feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Feels so good,” you whimper, clutching him to you with fistfuls of his hair.

“Told you this new body’s not so bad, hm?” Eren closes his teeth down on your nipple lightly; you almost keel over from the shockwave it sends through you.

You nod, rubbing yourself against his thigh faster. It’s awkward and cumbersome with your belly in the way, but it’s enough for now, enough to light your nerves on fire in that way that only Eren’s ever been able to.

“Fuckin’ ridiculous,” Eren mutters, grabbing onto your hips to help you get your rhythm right, “you’re so perfect, and you don’t even see it.”

Your fingers dig into his arms as you moan. “But my stomach–”

“But nothing,” Eren kisses you, mumbling into your mouth, “love your stomach, love your tits, love all of it. You think it doesn’t make me so fucking hard, watching you walk around with that big belly and knowing what it came from? I did that. We did that, didn’t we baby?”

“Mhm,” you bite into his shoulder, the friction on your clit through your sweatpants is getting to your head, making you dizzy. “Eren, Eren–”

“Sh sh sh,” Eren shushes you, moving so that he can look you in the eyes, “what do you need? Tell me.”

“I don’t– I don’t know, I just…” you can’t find the words, so in need of him that you can’t even decide what sounds best. His mouth? His fingers? All of it?

“Okay, okay,” Eren says quietly, standing you both up only to lay you against the pillows, “I’ve gotcha.”

He nudges his sweatpants down your legs, bringing your panties with them, spreads your legs so he can see the most intimate part of you. Eren brings his hand to your clit, rubbing tentatively, but you’re so desperate for him that it’s enough to make your back arch, a long, throaty moan ripping out of you. He lays beside you, gently playing with your clit and watching in awe at the reaction you give him, already a blubbering mess after only a few minutes.

“So sensitive, aren’t you mama?”

“Yes,” you hiss out through clenched teeth, a fresh wave of arousal flooding you at the name, “s-so sensitive. Need to cum, I need, n-need–”

“I’ll make you cum,” Eren promises, sinking a finger into you, “I’ll make you cum, baby.”

“Fuck, Eren, it’s– I can’t–”

“Feel good?”

“So fucking good,” you’re basically sobbing at this point, fingers clenched into the muscles of his bicep, clinging to him and humping his hand. You’re not sure if it’s the lack of sex over the first trimester (“What if I hit the baby’s head?” Eren had asked nervously whenever you approached him) or the rawness of the sensation against your over-sensitive body, but you’ve never been so close to your orgasm so quickly.

You don’t hold out long; Eren’s skilled with even just one finger, and before long, you’re crying out his name, gushing all over his hand. Eren presses his lips to your forehead in a sweet kiss despite having utterly destroyed you less than thirty seconds ago.

“Ready for me?”

“Sit,” you pant, pointing to the massive stack of pillows against your headboard. Eren raises his eyebrows in surprise, but does as he’s told, only pausing to pull his clothes off. The loss of the stupid dad t-shirt is a relief as much as feeling his bare chest under your hands. Due to your hormones, you’ve thrown Eren out of the house several times, and you’ve demanded to be alone enough to where his only solution is to go to the gym downstairs and work out until you’ve calmed down. It shows: his chest has grown broader and stronger, and the veins on his arms are nearly popping through the skin. “You look good.”

“Yeah?” Eren offers a shit-eating grin, flexing his bicep ever so subtly. “You should see yourself.”

“You seriously think I look good like this?” You’re straddling his hips now, rubbing your clit on his bare cock. It’s a lewd sight, his cock drooling on his abs, glistening with your cum; your cunt clenches around nothing, more than ready to be filled.

“Mhm, you look so fucking good like that,” Eren grunts, hands finding your hips again and lifting you up to sink you down on his cock, both of you letting out loud, satisfied groans, “but you look much better like this.”

You grind your hips against his, not possessing the energy to bounce your now-heavier body, but it makes you see stars. Eren rarely lets you ride him, much preferring to bend you over or pin you to the bed himself, but with your bump, you now have an excuse to hop on top of him whenever you like. It’s been close to a decade of fucking him, but the full stretch of him never fails to shock you, the way he pushes into you until you’re positive he’s in your stomach. With Eren sitting up, his cock stays firmly nestled against your g-spot, pushing little bits of squirt out of you with each movement of your hips.

“Eren–” you whimper, holding your breasts as you rock into him.

“Shit- you’re so tight like this,” Eren says through his clenched jaw, throwing his head back against the headboard, “why don’t you ride me more often?”

“You don’t let me,” you say with a watery giggle.

“Stupid,” Eren gasps, “‘m so fucking stupid.”

You’re too fucked out to voice your agreement, opting for sliding a hand down your body to flick at your clit. You can’t quite reach it around your bump, though, a discontented noise leaving your lips. Eren opens his eyes, takes notice of the way you’re hunching your back, and swats your hand away.

“I got it, I got it,” he pants, tucking his hand underneath your swollen belly to rub your clit just the way he knows you like it.

“Oh, f-fuck,” you choke out, throwing your head back.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” you hiss, “‘s perfect.”

“Take what you need, mama,” Eren’s watching you intently, a glimmer of admiration in his eye, “take what you need.”

You’re moaning pitifully, loud and wanton as Eren’s cock moves inside of you. Your cunt tightens around him desperately as the bubble building in your stomach threatens to explode.

“Think you get wetter like this, all swollen with my baby,” Eren muses, leaning forward to latch his mouth around one of your nipples where more milk has already started to pool. His words have a visceral reaction on you; you cry, tears welling in your eyes as you spiral towards your release.

“I think–I think I’m gonna– oh fuck, don’t stop,” you croon, rocking your hips as fast as you can manage. Eren mumbles around your nipple, something about how beautiful you look, and you come undone around him, grinding your hips hard against his and cradling him to your chest. He might have a point- there’s damn near a puddle of your arousal at the base of where you’re connected, slicking up the skin on his hips and the inside of your thighs.

“Better?” Eren pulls you in for a kiss; you can feel him grinning through it.

“Maybe a little,” you admit, laughing light and watery against his mouth.

“Mmm,” Eren hums, grabbing you by the hips and lifting you only to drop you down again and turn your laughter to a quiet whimper, “not good enough. Need you to be much better.”

“Fuck me, then,” you nip at his bottom lip, earn yourself a deep groan.

“Can you— can you hold yourself up like this?” Eren scooches both of you down, albeit, a little awkwardly, so that he can lay flat on the bed. He moves you up until you’ve only got him halfway inside of you, cocking a questioning eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, I–I think so.”

“And you’re sure I’m not going to hurt–”

“Jesus Christ– no Eren, it’s fine, just– fuck,” he cuts you off with a sharp snap of his hips up into yours, grinning menacingly when your eyes roll back.

“Like that?”

“Just like that,” you moan, annoyance wiped from you with one clean stroke. Eren takes that for the green light that it is and starts pistoning his hips up into you, swearing under his breath. Even though he’d instructed you to hold yourself up, he makes good use of his new muscles, suspending you at the perfect height to feel every inch of him as he fucks up into you like his life depends on it.

“You look so fucking gorgeous like this,” Eren growls, “all swollen with my fuckin’ baby. Gonna keep you like this, give you as many as you want.”

“Eren–” you choke out, suffocating on the way he’s fucking you, his words, him. For the first time in months, you feel amazing, holding your chest and groaning long and loud as Eren thrusts up into you.

“Baby, I’m- fuck, not gonna–” Eren cuts himself off with something that sounds suspiciously close to a whimper, throwing his head back.

“Cum in me,” you pant, nodding urgently at him, “want it so bad.”

“Oh fuck,” Eren groans, hips moving impossibly faster. His fingers are digging into your hips near to the point of pain, and that little frown he makes when he’s about to cum is crumpling his face. You do want it, badly.

“Please Eren, I need it,” you gasp, legs trembling on either side of his hips.

“Fucking love you, love you so much,” Eren slurs, hips stuttering. With a long, throaty moan, he slams you down one final time, cumming deep inside of you. You grind against him as he does, moaning along with him at the familiar warmth in your belly. Exhausted, you momentarily forget about your bump and try to collapse facefirst on him- that’s enough to snap Eren out of his post-orgasm haze.

“Whoa, whoa,” Eren shoves you back upright, lifting you under your shoulders and laying you on your back, “careful.”

You wince. “Shit, sorry. Sometimes I forget. It’s still sort of new.”

“I know,” Eren agrees, eyes locked lovingly on your baby bump, “love it, though.”

“Really?”

Eren cocks a disbelieving eyebrow at you. “If that didn’t convince you, I don’t know what will.”

You giggle at that; he’s always been good at this, cheering you up and diffusing your worries like it’s second nature. After ten years, it probably is at this point.

“I don’t mean to be so down on myself, really,” you sigh, tracing a finger over where his hand’s splayed on your stomach, “it’s just…so much harder than I thought it would be.”

Eren nods thoughtfully. “That’s reasonable. But you’re so good at it.”

“I haven’t even– what?” The insecurities that you’ve been successfully masking under good natured teasing and occasional annoyance come slipping from between your lips. You’ve thought it for weeks; how Eren’s so into all the baby stuff, so enthusiastic about learning everything he can, while all you’ve managed is trying not to gag when he cooks eggs in the morning and picking out some onesies. “What about all of your books and your podcasts and crap? You’re the one doing everything.”

“That’s all I can do,” Eren scoffs, “you’re doing all the hard stuff, like carrying the baby around and puking every morning and crying all the time–”

“Hey!”

“I’m serious,” Eren shushes you, “you’re putting in all the legwork. I mean, you’re literally growing our baby. You’re a fucking rockstar mom already. If anyone’s not doing enough here, it’s me.”

That’s one thing about Eren that will never get easier; his deep, unwavering admiration for you, no matter what you’re doing. Sure, it’s endearing when Eren spins you around in his arms for something as simple as finally getting that croissant recipe to come out well, but when he’s praising you for something that’s actually difficult? It’s sweet enough to give you a cavity, warm your heart, and turn your cheeks pink all at once, even after all this time.

“Well, if you’d like to take a shift carrying her around, be my guest. She’s a chunky little thing already,” you roll your eyes, tucking your face into Eren’s ribs to mask the flush rising to your face.

“I’d do it for you if I could,” Eren sighs in faux-thoughtfulness, “but I wouldn’t look half as hot.”

You giggle furiously when he lands a slap to your ass, swatting at his chest. “God, it still doesn’t feel real, does it? A little girl that’s half you, half me.”

“It does and it doesn’t,” Eren shrugs, bringing a hand back to your stomach, “I don’t know about you, but I’ve been thinking about it since Italy.”

You gape at him. “That long?”

“You know I’m always ahead of you on this stuff,” Eren teases, squeezing your cheeks together, “knew I wanted you first, knew I wanted you back first, knew we should get married…”

“Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes at his bragging, “it’s just, like…are we ready? To do this?”

“This?” Eren cocks his head.

“The whole…‘parents’ thing.”

“Putting aside the fact that you're way too late to be having those kinds of thoughts,” Eren says, rubbing your lower back, “of course we’re ready. There’s no perfect parents, but I believe in us– believe in you. Gonna be the best mama any baby’s ever had, I know you will.”

“I don’t even…oh, Eren.” You’re tearing up again–damn hormones. Eren wipes at your tears, planting a big kiss on your forehead.

“I mean it. You’re going to be great, already are,” he says, smiling down at you. He holds you just like that for a few moments, letting you nuzzle into his chest, until his little grin grows wicked. “Although…the only thing I can say I am worried about is which one of us is going to accidentally teach her her first swear word. Should we bet on it?"

Even through your tears, you cock an eyebrow at him. “You and I both know that’s going to be Jean. Especially after what you taught Clara the last time we babysat.”

Eren barks out a laugh. “Hey, hearing her call Jean ‘Daddy Jackass’ was funny, and you know it!”

“Thanks for reminding me,” you smirk, “now I know what I’m teaching our little girl first.”

“No way!”

#eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction #eren jaeger fanfic #eren jaeger fanfiction #ti penso universe #ti penso uni

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venus-haze · 1 year

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Love Is a Ring on the Telephone (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: When work calls you away from New York, Homelander can’t bear how much he misses you.

Note: Gender neutral reader and no descriptors are used. This fic is fluffy (and shorter than what I usually write) but still a little dark, and takes place vaguely during season 2. Inspired by Bruce Springsteen’s and Patti Smith’s versions of Because the Night (I actually got inspired for a few fics based on various lines in the song). Do not interact if you are under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Some possessive behavior and emotional manipulation (it’s Homelander). Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Homelander stared at the calendar taped to the wall in a desperate hope that he could somehow will time to race forward, and you’d be back home. He missed you terribly, spending the past few nights in your shoebox apartment he had yet to convince you to move out of. It was too cramped and loud for his liking, between your neighbors and the street noise, but he hadn’t realized how attached he’d become to it until you were gone.

He went as far as pulling on one of your sweatshirts to sleep in, just because it still smelled like you. It was only day two of your five day business trip to a conference in Los Angeles, but each day without you felt like a week that dragged on endlessly. He’d been on bullshit missions from Vought that went longer, ones where he couldn’t even contact you until he returned, his insides shredded to bloody mush at the lingering anxiety that maybe in his absence, you found someone else.

From the moment he stepped into the disgustingly crowded airport with you, a melancholy swept over him. He offered to fly you to your hotel in LA himself, frustrated when you decided to do things the pedestrian way. At least his presence allowed you to skip the security line that stretched all the way back to the bag check as he graciously took selfies with each TSA agent. After all, you couldn’t be a threat if you were with The Homelander of all people.

He would’ve gone with you, if it weren’t for the ‘Dawn of the Seven’ promotions that Ashley couldn’t get him out of. She nearly threw up while breaking the bad news to him, and he could hear her heart racing even as she practically sprinted down the hallway after he dismissed her. Reluctantly, he stayed behind while you went away, gritting his teeth through every interview and guest appearance. Having been paraded around plenty of Vought conferences himself, he knew damn well plenty of people used them as an excuse to get drunk and fuck around without their significant others’ knowledge.

He huffed, turning away from the calendar and practically rolling his eyes at himself. You’d proven time and time again that he could trust you, that you were the one for him. Still, his self-assurance did nothing to abate the sourness in his stomach, and suddenly, he’d pulled out his phone, ear pressed to the screen as the dial tone rang almost mockingly. He paced the kitchen floor, glancing at the clock on the wall. A little past one in the morning on the West Coast, but you wouldn’t mind if he woke you up.

“Baby? It’s late,” you yawned, the mundane noise making Homelander’s nerves settle slightly. “Is everything okay?”

He chewed his bottom lip, feeling like a schoolgirl calling her crush for the first time, almost instinctively reaching to play with a non-existent phone cord. There was neither pride nor shame when it came to you, only the affection and devotion that he’d spent his life longing for. Your presence soothed him, but your absence made his heart wrench in his chest.

“Missed you,” he said softly.

“I miss you too. This conference is so boring. The people are weird, and I haven’t gotten a chance to see anything in LA.”

“What’s there to see? You’ve got a hot blond at home,” he said.

Your laughter made him feel indescribably lighter, even when it became muffled by your hand covering your mouth.

“There aren’t palm trees in New York, smarty.”

“If you wanna see palm trees, I can think of at least five places I can take you that are nicer than LA.”

“I read that some palm trees grow in the Mediterranean, like Greece and Italy.”

“We’ll have to go one day to see, huh?”

You enthusiastically agreed, and he clung to your every word as you described your dream vacations in detail. He’d bring you everywhere, wrapped tightly in his arms from the moment he took off in New York until the two of you inevitably ended up in bed somewhere beautiful and secluded, where you could truly be alone together.

He wondered what you’d think of moving out of the city, maybe to one of the smaller beach towns out on Long Island or somewhere more secluded in the Catskills. Either way, he’d have a commute for the first time in his life, but he could deal with a quick flight to Vought Tower if it meant waking up beside and coming home to you each day. After years of clamoring for the adoration of the masses, millions of people cheering his name and going into a frenzy in his presence paled in comparison to the sincerity in your voice and steady heartbeat whenever you told him that you loved him.

Often, he felt like no one else knew what being in love was like, otherwise they wouldn’t make him go on asinine press tours or send you away to the opposite side of the country for a conference. Something so passionate and all-consuming as what he felt for you couldn’t be ruined by distance, and though he could listen to you talk on the phone all night, it wasn’t the same as being able to see and feel you. He’d grown far too accustomed to the warmth and gentleness of your touch, the way your eyes lit up for him and nobody else.

A loud bang and the sound of drunk chatter outside your room interrupted your voice, and though no human could have heard the commotion so clearly, he could, and his lip curled in response. You immediately apologized, ranting about the people at the conference, most of whom you found uppity and unpleasant, finding networking with them at panels and meals more of a chore than an opportunity.

He looked at your refrigerator, colorful magnets holding up your handwritten lists and reminders, but his gaze was focused on the selfie of the two of you on your second date to the Bronx Zoo just a few months prior. You’d taken the time to get the photo printed and displayed in a spot that was domestic and sentimental, somewhere you and anyone else who entered your place could easily see. His hands suddenly felt cold in your physical absence, and a lump formed in his throat as he found himself on the verge of tears.

“If it’s such a drag, you should just leave early and come home.”

“Baby, you know I can’t—“

“I’ll take care of you,” he promised softly, the ‘from now on’ was unspoken, but from the way he could hear your breath faintly hitch over the phone, he knew you understood.

“Okay,” you whispered. “Will you come get me?”

“I’ll be there before you blink.”

“I’ll keep my eyes wide open for you.”

He smiled, letting out a soft chuckle at your words. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“That’s impossible.”

You were quiet for a moment. “Can’t I try?”

“You don’t need to try. Just being mine is enough, darling.”

Everything in his life had gone to shit so fast, but not you, never you. He’d raze cities to ash before letting you go, before possibly losing the warmth that enveloped him at the thought of you and how much you loved him. Even if he could bottle the feeling, inject it into his veins whenever he pleased, he wouldn’t, not when he had you by his side. He wasn’t sure if anyone could compare. As much as he wished he’d met you sooner, he supposed later was better than never.

You ended the phone call, your voice soft and melodic as you once again professed your love to him. He did the same before hanging up, hastily grabbing one of your sweaters from your closet. You’d always get cold while flying with him. He brought the knitwear to his nose, the scent of your fabric softener and a hint of your perfume almost making him dizzy. Wasting no more time, he left your apartment to make it to Los Angeles before you could fall back asleep.

He knew which hotel you were staying at and the room number, having texted it to him before you left. Of course, he’d memorized the details, and within half an hour was hovering outside of your eighth floor hotel room window, which you gladly opened for him. You were in your pajamas, your small suitcase packed on the bed.

“My hero!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him and pressing a playful kiss to his cheek.

Your lips on his skin made it feel like he was on fire, and he took your face in his ungloved hands, kissing you desperately as your sweater fell to the floor. Two days had suddenly transformed into a lifetime of longing and separation, and as he slipped his tongue into your open mouth, he did so with the intention of savoring you, getting as close to devouring you as he could.

Squeezing his hips to steady yourself only encouraged him further, a groan rumbling from deep in his chest. Sometimes, you made it so hard for him to have any self-control, and in those moments he almost lamented his powers. His strength made your being with him inherently dangerous, yet despite the risks, you willingly sought out his embrace and intimacy.

“Always yours,” he muttered huskily against your lips.

You looked at the sweater on the floor, smiling at the gesture. “Thanks.”

“Can’t have you catching pneumonia on the way home, can I?” he said as you pulled the sweater on.

You grabbed your suitcase off the bed, and he took it from you with ease, holding it in one hand, his other arm firmly around your waist. He’d flown you plenty of places before, and though you were no longer nervous like the first time he took you flying, he loved how you clung to him anyway.

#homelander x reader #the boys x reader #homelander x you #homelander imagine #the boys #the boys amazon #the boys tv

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imrllytootiredforthis · 1 year

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A Brat at Heart

Pairing: Lee Know x reader

Summary: You’re at work and poor minnie just misses you so much that he can’t help but send a video to you, convincing you to come home to do some better things

Warnings: dom reader, sub lee know, mommy kink (reader is called mommy but otherwise there’s no gender-specified content), pillow humping, recorded masturbation, humiliation, degradation, fingering (m!receiving), slapping, slight nipple play, cum eating, probably more

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: If you’ve sent a request in and I haven’t gotten around to it I’m very sorry, and I’ll try to get around to it soon. Otherwise, hope you enjoy, any and all feedback is welcomed and you can still send requests in but I might not get around to them for awhile

Minho wanted to be your good boy.

He tried-yes he tried so very hard.

He had wanted to be a good boy, just for you but as he laid at home all alone, his thoughts started to wander.

At first it was just thinking about how pretty you were. Sweet innocent thoughts that were just about how much he loved you.

How much he loved the colour of your hair.

The colour of your eyes.

The look in your eye when you told him what to do.

How much he loved when you stood above him, calling him a slutty little kitty while he thrusted up into your hand and-

Oops!

He hadn’t meant to start grinding against pillow, he was a good boy! The poor little kitty, he just missed you so much. And the scent of your perfume covered the pillow, putting his senses into overdrive as he buried his face into it deep into it, trying to keep the moans at bay.

He wanted you here right now. Needed you here. Right now.

Telling him how dirty and disgusting he was. Telling him how pretty he was as he humped your pillow. Calling him your pretty little whore; your toy to use whenever you wanted to.

But you weren’t here.

You weren’t supposed to be here for another-he glanced at the clock on your nightstand-6 hours!

He groaned in frustration-or pleasure he could barely decipher the difference as the fabric of his pants grew wet, a copious amount of pre-cum leaking from the sensitive tip of his cock.

What was he supposed to do?

He wanted to be a good boy...he was a good boy.

A good, good boy with maybe just a few tiny little bratty habits...that only occasionally...surfaced...

-Like right now! How his cock throbbed and skin burned, begging for your touch.

He was a good boy.

A really good boy. After all, how could you ever fault your pretty little kitten for just wanting to be with you?

The meeting you were in was boring.

A bunch of privileged rich men who didn’t want to listen to any idea or opinion other than their own. High off the sound of their own voice.

You’d come in with a business plan. A good one that you’d been revising and working on for weeks, practicing what you’d say to these men once you’d finally gotten an audience with them-which was a practically impossible feat in itself.

It was a good proposal, a great selling point, a few little details you needed to brush up on but nothing that you couldn’t handle without a little bit more time.

Then you’d come in here, in front of all of these stupid bastards.

It was a great idea, with a planned out execution, laid out steps and a clear, precise way to follow it through with it given of course that you got the funds for the execution.

But for any of it to sell that had to actually be listening.

Not moseying around, glancing down at their phones they so obviously held under the table; scratching at their face, staring blankly off into space.

You’d gotten not even halfway through the project plan before one of them snapped out of a trance, a bored expression crossing his face to see you were still presenting. He yawned, sighed before finally turning to your boss, whispering something unintelligible to your ears.

Your boss nodded, stood up and smiled lazily at you, lifting a hand to signal for you to stop. “I think we’ve heard enough. We’ll discuss it for a bit and then we’ll get back to you later. Take a seat for now,” He looked around the room, ignoring the way your face turned red hot in shame and anger, packing up your things in a well-deserved huff to keep from doing things you’d regret later on.

“Who’s next?”

You slumped into your chair in a way that you were sure they would criticize but couldn’t bring yourself to care about.

How many sleepless nights had you spent working on this? How much time had you taken from spending with your friends, your family-Minho, cooped up in your office working on this?

Far too many.

Far too many for a punch of privileged rich men to tell you that they’d ’consider’ it.

You knew what that meant. That meant that they’d mention it once over evening drinks, laugh a bit about it and then never get back to you.

You did all of that work.

Just for nothing.

Your fists clenched under the table as the next person began to introduce their proposal. Your bosses looked bored already.

You wanted to punch something.

Your boss?

Absolutely.

You’d surely be fired and have a restraining order set against you, sued for everything your ass was worth and more but it would be damn worth it for the satisfaction you’d gain to see the look on his face.

Agonized, angry, confused, shocked.

Shocked that one of his greatly underpaid employees would do such a thing to him.

Picturing the scenario so vividly, trying to distract yourself from making it a reality, you nearly missed the vibration of your phone.

You looked to the presenter; a nervous woman who stuttered over her words. None of the bosses were paying attention. A few of them were once again on their phones so you doubted that they’d even notice if you were on yours.

You felt bad for doing it, especially since you were pretty much the only one actually listening but you looked down to see that it was from Minho and curiosity got the better of you.

Minnie🐰: I miss you

Minnie🐰: Come home. I want you

You: I know baby

You: I miss you too but-

Your message was cut off as he sent a video.

You glanced up. They hadn’t shut down the poor woman down yet but some of them looked about ready to fall asleep soon so you doubted it would be much longer.

Your phone buzzed again.

Minnie🐰: I need you so bad mommy

He was up to something. You knew it and you didn’t want to play into his games. Not right now. Not when you had a seething anger towards your boss that could be misplaced in Minho. But you’ve never really been a particularly patient person. And you’ve always been the type to let your curiosity get the best of you, always needing to know what was going on.

Your thumb hovered over the video for a second. Torn between confirming the suspicion itching in the back of your mind and giving him the benefit of the doubt and ignoring this until later.

Weighing out the options in your head before giving up and tapping on the video, finger flying straight to the play button without a seconds hesitation.

The screen was kind of dark and you could vaguely see the shape of something moving. Squinting, you dragged the corner down, turning the brightness up to the max.

Your eyes widened slightly, a gasp escaping you, face flaring red from a totally different reason than before.

“Are you okay?”

You looked up to see all of your bosses looking at you, concern written across their faces at the blush across your own.

Trying to keep composure, you put on a strained smile. “Uh, yeah! I-i mean no! I just figured out I had a f-family problem?” You pointed at your phone while cringing internally at your choice of words. “C-can I leave?”

Your boss nodded, confused as the rest of them were as you scrambled to collect all your stuff, nearly sprinting out of the room to the elevator.

As soon as you were in the car you pulled the phone out of your pocket, looking down at the screen, almost drooling at the paused video.

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Minho to send you *ahem* ~naughty~ photos or videos at work. He loved to tease you throughout the days when you were away at work with bulge photos or short clips of him palming himself over his pants, breathless whines and calls of your name ringing out in the background as he begged you to come home.

They’d just never been this...explicit before.

You watched the screen intently, hand crawling down to press between your legs in an attempt to relieve the pressure.

It was dark in the video but you could make out his body. He must’ve set it up on the dresser across from your bed because his entire body managed to fit on your small screen.

He was completely naked as he faced the camera, strong arms wobbling precariously on either side of the pillow-your pillow-as he thrusted into it at a slow and even pace.

You realized angrily that he was purposely putting on a show.

His head was barely staying up, drooping down as if the only reason it was even partially up was for your pleasure. He knew you loved to watch his expressions.

Speaking of his expressions, his mouth hung open, drool dripping in strands onto the bed below as his tongue lolled out.

His gaze was hooded as he struggled to keep eye-contact with the camera, slightly crossing as he lost focus before coming back to look into your soul through the screen.

He would be smirking if he could.

As the video neared the last few minutes, he seemed to gather a semblance of composure. Slightly coming back.

Before he fell. Eyes rolling back entirely, to create the perfect fucked-out expression he knew you loved oh-so much. His tongue fell out of his mouth, drool dripping down his chin and a flush spread bright across his cheeks, staining them the cutest shade of pink.

His mouth opened wider and you realized-your phone was still on mute from the meeting.

You finger jammed the button to turn the volume up, the sound coming on mid-moan. You dragged it back to the beginning, watching it all from the start again.

The video was full of his sounds just for you, intentionally loud as he moaned out in earnest.

That fucking tease was putting on a show.

He called out your name a few times, begging you for release and you could feel shockwaves of pleasure as your hand slipped under the waistband of your pants.

Frustrated whines and mewls escaped as he got closer, losing his composure altogether as his arms finally gave out, dropping onto the bed, hips not stopping even for a second besides a small stutter as he increased in pace.

He was close, so close and he whined out so between heavy pants. His head lifted to face the camera, his body shimmering with sweat. “fuck!”

He looked up at the camera, a slight smirk crossing that smug pretty face of his before the screen went black.

He watched as the read message came up under the message.

You would come home now.

You had to.

Because if there was one thing worse than his self-control, it was your anger-issues. Especially when he disobeyed you.

Minho thrusted against the pillow again, groaning at the feeling of the cotton fabric.

“Mommy~need you-need you right now!“

He looked down at the phone in his hand, slightly trembling at the control it was taking not to start touching what was yours.

Because he was a good boy.

And good boys listened to the rules.

Rules like don’t touch yourself without mommy’s permission.

Technically, he wasn’t touching himself. The pillow was touching him but not one time had his hands stimulated the ache settled painful and heavy between his legs.

See?

Minnie was such a good boy. Just for you. All for you.

He was a good boy but somehow-he didn’t know how-you ended up with a message from him at work.

His arms pushed him up, blush rising at the mess the pillow was, pre-cum and drool covering the fabric.

If you were here you’d tell him what a mess he was, a dirty little kitty, or a mutt depending on how you felt.

A look of disgust would cross your face, it would be so humiliating, so disgusting and you’d tell him that.

A thought came to mind.

This time he didn’t bother taking the time to set it up or anything, just swiping over to the camera and hitting record.

The red light came on and he looked straight into it without an ounce of shame for his acts.

“Come home mommy,” he whined, pouting before slowly leaning down the the pillow, making sure to show the mess in the frame. “Need you. ‘M such a mess jus’ for you.”

And in long strips he licked everything up, the bitter taste of himself on his tongue was making his head fuzzy. He whined and whimpered, moaning not even just for your sake anymore as his breathing got heavy, eyes getting droopy as a fog filled his mind.

‘Poor little Minnie’ you’d coo into his ear, breath hot against his face. He reached his hand up to grip his own hair, pulling his head up by the roots with a harsh tug, just like you’d do it.

He mewled loudly, fuck, it was all too much and not enough, never enough without you here to do it for him.

It all felt so dirty, like this was something that he shouldn’t be doing. But, fuck, imagining the way that your nails would dig into his scalp, harsh without an ounce of mercy, clawing and sadistic. Angry and punishing-

“f-fuck!” His voice was shaky and whimpery. You’d laugh at him if you were here.

You’d call him your little slut. Your pretty little toy.

Something liquid hot swelled deep inside him as his hips stuttered against the sheets.

A need. An ache.

Growing larger and larger deep in the pit of his stomach.

He needed you so bad.

Needed you to hold him and touch him and call him your pretty dirty little slut. Yours, just yours. He belonged to you and only you. The thought of your hands on his body, burning his skin in the best possible way, your words imprinted on his mind, forever there-never forgotten.

Whines and desperate little pants escaped his lips, the sudden want for your hand to be wrapped around his neck, reminding him that he was only yours, cementing the thought.

Even your eyes on him would be enough-your presence-your words.

He rolled onto his back, legs spreading wide with whimper that sounded different than before. He stroked himself, slow and gaining in pace, squeezing the base as his other hand moved to play with his balls. He rubbed at the head, toying with his slit-moans spilling guttural from deep in his throat.

His other his slid up his skin, trying his hardest to imagine it was yours that tweaked at his sensitive nipples, dragging a needy moan from deep in his chest.

And slowly, teasingly, just like you’d do it, his hand reached his throat. Soft at first, brushing and just barely there to work himself up. But then, trying to catch himself off-guard like you’d do, with a gasp he squeezed. It was hard enough for it to nearly hurt, a grunt rolling smoothly out of his mouth alongside a debauched moan.

He missed the predatory glint in your eye-ached for it. He wanted for you to be standing above him now, looking at him as if he were prey in front of you, like a helpless deer before a starved lion.

“F-fuck, ne-need you,” he let out a pathetic whimper as his hips chased his hand, desperately pursuing the high he needed, the thought of you aiding in his rapidly approaching release.

The phone laid forgotten in the sheets, kicked aside in his haste.

But it still picked everything up.

Every raw whine and beg, keen and whimper, calling over and over for you in vain. To touch him, to let him cum, to degrade him, to ruin him in any way you saw fit.

And later when you’d find the video you’d hear as he said that pretty word the self-acclaimed good boy barely ever said.

You’d hear through that shitty phone speaker as he mewled, “p-please mommy.”

You’d started driving home. Right after sending a quick text to your boss, telling him you’d be out for a few days, the sound of Minho’s moans a continual loop fresh in your mind.

Thoughts of him-of him breaking the rules, of you giving him the punishment he deserved after pulling a stunt like that, of how he would act when you got home…

The car was going well above the speed limit but you couldn’t care less.

You lived fairly close to your work but not close enough. Every breath, every blink, every thump of your heart felt like an eternity.

And fuck, the place between your legs throbbed with want, remembering how pretty he looked.

All fucked out and needy for you.

You cursed yourself for being so weak. A single video from him enough to not only get you to lie to your boss in order to get out of work but all practically go 25 over the speed limit, swerving like a crazy person in your rush to get home.

Fucking hell, what was he doing now?

Waiting for you? Watching as your location as you got closer and closer to the house?

Probably not.

That brat was probably getting off. Playing with his pretty dick, fingering his little hole, moaning out helplessly at the thought of you punishing him.

You ached for him. Every part of your body burned for his touch but…he probably wanted that touch even more than you.

All he was thinking about was how your touch would feel, pleasuring and hurting him in the way he loved most.

He craved to touch you and for you to touch him.

So maybe he wasn’t going to get your touch today.

When you opened the front door you didn’t hear anything.

Slipping off your shoes and pulling off your coat, setting your things to the side you didn’t hear anything.

When you entered the bathroom to quickly wash your hands, only a paper thin was that separated you from the bedroom you definitely heard something.

Minho was never shameless without being broken in first.

He kept his moans scarce, kept his whines and begs just out of reach.

He held his pride so high that he’d never admit that maybe, just maybe you had the power to turn him into a mess on command, that you knew his own body better than he did.

And you’d turned him into a puddle of those scarce moans and begs he tried to keep just out of reach.

Because as much as he was yours, he was a brat. Through and through, teasing and mocking, testing and pushing against your limits to see just how far he could before you’d snap.

He’d pissed you off so many times in so many ways.

Many of them along the lines of this, breaking the no touching rule and letting you walk in. But never before had he sounded nearly like this.

You could hear whines, calling out for you, so desperate and so utterly helpless. Shameless and raw in the way that he only ever did as you were splitting him open with your strap.

You rounded the corner to open the door just a little, peeking in.

And fuck, he was a mess.

Sloppily rolled onto his back, hips bucking and thrashing wildly up into his hand without a care in the world.

Fucking brat.

“Should I come back later?”

The only sign that he heard what you’d said was how he threw his head back with a drawn out whine, looking at you with big needy eyes.

“Fuck! Fi-nally, took you long en-enough.”

His tone was meant to be harsh but instead they came out as a wail, tears welling up in his eyes as you made your way closer, a purpose in your step, drawn out slow and steady to tease him just the way he had to you.

“Wanna repeat that for me kitten?” A single finger pushed his chin up, turning his whole head toward you, his body following your lead without him really realizing until he sat in a w position, eyes wide and wet just for you.

His breath hitched and all he wanted to do was melt into you, let you control his every whim and need no matter how embarrassing at was.

He flushed, avoiding your gaze. “I...i need you.”

Grinning from ear to ear, you lightly rubbed your finger in circles on the top of his thigh, comforting and reassuring, encouraging him into the space he seemed to be falling into. “What do you need me to do then, kitty?”

Your voice, melodic and husky, slightly dark with a lust that had been roiling in your gut ever since he’d sent you that damn message. But he didn’t reply and your grin fell, a small tap to the skin where your hand rested in warning. “Tell me,” your nails dug into his skin, almost painfully, a sensation he sighed into with pleasure. “What do you want me to do to you Minnie, otherwise I have other things to get done and I’ll just leave you here.”

Now that was a real threat and his eyes which had been somewhat slipping shut snapped open with need apparent in them.

“Please.”

A shiver ran down your spine to hear the brat say those words-rarely ever without a fight, it seemed that today he didn’t have and you were glad for that because, if you were being honest, neither did you.

But behaving now or not. He wasn’t before, so your poor little kitty was getting punished either way.

You glanced to where his cock stood, an angry red from the rough treatment Minho had given himself.

You brushed a finger over it, scooping up some pre before laughing quietly, “such a messy little kitty aren’t you baby?” You brought your hand up, smearing it all over his lips, grinning, watching, as he hungrily lapped it up, mewling at the taste and your touch.

It should’ve made him disgusted and humiliated, but he moaned loud, uncaring that his pride was shattering just a little bit. Ignoring the way something inside him told him to be a man, not quite yet silenced by the pleasure it usually took to get him like this.

Because right now he needed you.

He needed you so bad.

Because...maybe he hadn’t been the best boy this morning. Because, maybe he had been a little bit of the brat you would so often call him. Because, maybe he was a brat this morning and this was him being put back to place.

Being fucked back in place. By you.

Lightly pushing on his shoulders, he followed your lead, laying back onto the bed, spread out for your hungry eyes.

“That isn’t an answer. I asked you what you wanted, not if you wanted. Or is my pretty little kitty all looks, no brain? Just a dumb little slut to be fucked?” The way you said it, so dark, so condescending, so mean.

His brain was trying and failing to comprehend how he managed to get this much pleasure from being degraded like this by you-being called dirty and dumb and slutty-god, how he was getting more and more turned on by being your dumb little slut, how he was wanting-craving for you to say those words all night.

His thoughts were brought to a screeching halt, falling completely blank as your fingers trailed down his chest.

“So I’ll ask again,” your voice dropped to a whisper, leaning into his ear. “What do you want me to do to you?”

Gently, your nails traced his areola, “Just touch me!” He gasped, the words coming out a tad harsher than he intended them to.

The smirk playing on your face twisted at them and your touch turned harsh. “I didn’t hear a please without that. It better have not been an order.” You all but growled, a slap against his hip, hard enough to know it would leave a mark while the other tugged roughly at his nipple, making any rational thought turn into mush, keening in delight.

“Such a fucking painslut aren’t you, Minnie.”

It was antagonizing and amazing the way it all felt-your words, your touch, the sensations overwhelming and not enough, waves of pure unfiltered lust rolling down his spine, licking heat from the tip of his fingers to his toes.

“A little whore for me to play with whenever I want.” You coo’d as your fingers trailed lower and lower, stopping right at perineum, rubbing him there as his moans echoed around the room despite you doing nothing but playing with his little nipple, perked up and hard from your efforts.

“Yours! Ju-just for you! On-ly, ah! You!”

“Good kitty, now how do we ask mommy for what we want nicely?” The rubbing didn’t cease as he tried to think, finding it to be ten times harder with the distracting shockwaves boiling through him that nearly had his eyes slipping into the back of his head when you rubbed just a little too high or just a little too low.

“Pl-please! Mommy, will...w-will you please, please, please touch me! Just wanna feel you so bad, feel you~”

Smiling once again, you lightly traced the rim of his hole, feeling him shudder under your touch. “Where do you want me to touch you?”

His hips bucked in attempt to get your fingers to slip into him, such a greedy kitty finding his efforts in vain, whining when you pulled your hand away altogether, not so lightly slapping his thigh.

“G-god! Just fuck me!”

You often forgot how prettily your little brat can beg, so wanton and needy, so cute and whiny. So perfect, almost able to pass as a good boy when he begs, until he does that. Tries to order you around, buck up against your hand again, groaning in dissatisfaction. That’s what makes you remember that your ‘good boy’ is just a ruse.

With a sigh, you push into him, listening with a grin to the sharp breath he lets out followed by a sound that sounds almost like a sob as crystalline tears begin to flow down his face.

‘The little brat’s prepped himself’ you realize as you slide smoothly in.

It usually takes a little longer, more prepping.

More lube or spit before you’re able to thrust into his tight hole, much less to two fingers in there at the same time. It stretches him just right so that his body feels on fire. How he’s so sensitive to your touches right now is a mystery but he can barely think about that as you slip a third finger in, scissoring his tight walls open.

Looking up you watch as Minho drools. Not looking at you per se but watching your hand, your fingers as they thrust inside him at a slow pace.

He feels so fucking full. So filled up. So good.

He moans louder as you pull all the way out, the tips of your fingers catching ever so slightly on the rim before popping out. “Feel good, kitten?” Nodding enthusiastically. Hips twitching, wiggling his ass seemingly trying to entice you.

You bite your lip, shaking your head at his antics. “Such a fucking tease aren’t you?”

And once again he whines with a nod and you wonder if he’s actually listening to you anymore or just running purely by his lower head. He’s pouting so purely with tear-stains down his cheeks, that you can’t help but smirk and soon enough his whining turned into squeals when you roughly shove your fingers back in with no preamble.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit!

It feels so fucking good, so immense and euphoric it makes him feel like he could explode from the pleasure.

Maybe if he was less of a brat he’d voice those thoughts, gift you with the rest of the sounds he bites his lips to keep swallowed in his throat.

He feels good being fucked by your fingers, he wants to scream it. Wants to voice it aloud in a chant, tell you he’s your good boy, he’s your pretty kitten, a toy for you to use, a shameless sluthole-only yours to use.

And when your fingers finally find his prostate, breaks. “Fuck! Mo-mommy, please!” His toes curl, his eyes squeezed shut as he mewls, lifting his back into such a pretty arch. You continued prodding that bundle of nerves and Minho feels the heat inside him swell, the ringing in his ears turning to a crescendo.

He forces his eyes open. Just for you. Just to show you one last thing, one last show of what he wants as his eyes meet yours and his lungs begin a battle of air and lust.

Your heart skips a beat and for a minute, the harsh anger in your eye falls, softening into something his own heart swoons at.

His demeanor changes completely. Not the fake innocent facade he wears. Not the ‘good boy’. His eyes remained on yours as he panted.

Open and wide and glassy.

Not challenging you but begging you.

So cute and so submissive.

Hopeful and unready for the punishment you’re about to wreak on him.

His eyes grow wider, his climax fast approaching as you cease to stop the rhythm of your thrusts.

But then.

Then.

A cold water rushes down his back, a pain and not in pleasure hits him as you pull out, a cruel expression twisting your features into something that endlessly arouses him.

“You think I was gonna let you cum that easily, kitten?”

You pull away entirely, swiftly crossing the room, ripping your warmth away with you to rifle around in your toy-bin.

He lays there, curious but not daring to make any movement as he watches as you pull out several things, considering and putting them back before finally you pull out a large purple dildo and his heart races.

Races until you don’t grab your harness and you don’t start to take off your clothes.

Races until you stick the suction-cup on the bottom to the ground and gesture for him to come.

And he listen, hesitantly, sitting on the ground on his knees looking down at it before turning back to you.

The question is evident in his eyes until your lips curls into a disparaging smile and his blood runs cold, horror striking his features.

“Bratty kittens don’t get to come, Minnie.” You pout-obviously fake and way overdone.

“Bratty kittens get punished, so” you pat his cheek lightly, condescending and hot in all the best and worst ways. How his body tingles for your touch he knows you won’t give.

You pull away all too soon and point to the toy, a smirk replacing the pout. “I want you to ride this until you come for me kitten.”

#minho x reader #lee know x reader #minho smut #lee know smut #sub skz #sub!stray kids #sub lee know #sub minho #dom reader #dom!reader #sub stray kids #sub!lee know #sub!minho #gn!reader #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader

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jennarations · 8 months

Note

Would love your landoscar fic recs 💌

your wish is my absolute command 🫡🫡

i’ve gone back to college and started student teaching and gotten covid and adopted a kitten all in the last two weeks so i haven’t gotten to read as much but here is what i’ve got! the key is the same as the lestappen fic rec:

> (Title) +/= (Multichaptered/One-Shot)

(Summary)

!!! (Link)

• (Tags - please note these are just the tags I saw relevant to myself, double check the fics themselves for any other tags you might deem relevant!) *(Word count)

Here we go! I’m also tagging some of the bestest and loveliest authors at the bottom of the post, go send them some love!! (Putting it under a Read More for all of our collective sanity)

My one (1) work (shameless self plug heheheh):

> Thunderstruck =

Lando has a childhood fear of thunderstorms and in a record-breaking year for rainfall, Oscar Piastri becomes his new teammate.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50579323?view_adult=true

• Falling in love, Slight pining, Fluff, Humor *8.1k

—

> If You’re Barbie, And I’m Barbie, Then Who’s Driving the Bus? =

Anyways, the driver room is largely quiet at the moment. But not entirely, much to Lando’s enjoyment.

Buzzing from Oscar’s headphones, loud enough for Lando to hear the words, is a song from Barbie.

Charli XCX, no less.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48940792#main

• Fluff, Comedy *800 words

> Mortifying! Anyways, =

Mortifying interaction, but he’d survive. Besides, it’s not like the cashier was that cut–

“Cute enough to make you stupid, huh Norris?” He could hear his smile before he saw his face, a proper Cheshire grin.

“Fuck off mate,” Lando groaned, already trying to scrub the cashier from his brain. Except for the Australian accent, he decided; that bit could stay. Maybe his eyes, too, as tired as they had seemed. And his hair, which looked so soft in that kind of ridiculous side part.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49328047/chapters/124474876?

• College AU, Clumsy Lando, Meet-cute *2.3k

> The New Normal =

He wears a lot of shorts.

Lando had thought that Daniel wore shorts a lot, and then along came Oscar. It must be something about Australians.

Carlos never wore shorts.

Oscar’s pale, unblemished, muscular (and hairy) thighs spill out of the team issued black shorts whenever they sit to film content, or sit in meetings, or whenever Oscar sits in Lando’s general vicinity while wearing them.

They’re not a distraction.

OR Lando’s very healthy obsession with his new teammate’s thighs.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49335997/chapters/124496539?

• Pining, Slight smut *8k

> Invocations One Fall Away From the Concrete = ♥️

“Okay,” Lando says. “What’s your power?”

“Telekinesis,” Oscar replies a little too easily, like he’s trying not to make a big deal out of it. In fact, he’s already looking back down at his form. Lando doesn’t miss the way he seems completely stumped by the ‘Birth date’ square though.

Telekinetics are far and few between. You’re probably more likely to be struck by lightning twice than to meet a telekinetic. They’re so highly sought after in the hero industry that any telekinetic baby would automatically have a net worth of at least three hundred billion US dollars the second it was born. Moreover Oscar's an Oxy. It’s like, the jackpot of jackpots. This guy’s simply unreal on paper.

Lando scrunches up his face, rolls his eyes and says, “alright.” He shrugs. “Nothing to write home about, then.”

--------------------

AKA the low-key superpowers au where they have to activate their powers doing a really specific thing. Oscar's activation is a mystery to Lando, but it involves a lot of good stuff, pinky promise. (Lando Wink™)

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49508506/chapters/124953475?

• Non-Driver AU, Superpowers AU, Roommates, Slight Angst, Fluff, Humor *10.3k

> Only Found = ♥️

“Hey, well. No strings attached, right?” Oscar says, strategically.

Lando smiles and says, “hell yeah. And now that that’s established, what’s your stance on aliens? Also, do you still want your cake?”

cinderella soulmates au where whatever you lose, your soulmate finds. except: oscar has a soulmate and lando is a No-Match, a person who doesn't have a soulmate.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49218676#main

• Non-Driver AU, Soulmates AU, Lawyer!Oscar, Streamer!Lando, Angst, Fluff *6.8k

> Carried Away =

"Oscar," Lando said. "Don't hate me, alright, but I've—”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48871015#main

• Non-Driver AU, Fake Relationship, Angst, Fluff, Humor *22.1k

> Little Bit of Love =

“I’m freezing,” Lando says. Whines, really. “Don’t be mean, Oscar, I feel like shit.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49143811

• Sick fic, Fluff, Realization of Feelings *4.7k

> Signed Sealed =

Delivered

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48959461#main

• Text fic, NSFW pics *4.3k

> Smokeshow =

Because Oscar won the American football challenge, Lando had to wear the cheerleader uniform.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48546973#main

• Smut, Cheerleader uniform Lando, Brat!Lando *3.5k

> I’ll Kiss You First =

“Uh,” Oscar says, when they’re in the car on their way to the airport. “I think you’re—um. Going into heat, mate.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/47264011#main

• A/B/O, Alpha!Oscar, Omega!Lando, Smut *3.1k

> Sunflower Seeds =

Not worth dwelling on, really. Oscar doesn’t have to understand him to be on his team. If he were a pitcher, it would be different; Oscar has to get his pitchers in order to do his job as a catcher well. Lando isn’t a pitcher, though. So it’s fine.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49596088/chapters/125175172?

• Non-Driver AU, Baseball AU, Realization of Feelings, Fluff *8.6k

> Chronically Bitchless But Still Wifed Up = ♥️

Lando wasn’t above throwing his weight around in order to get what he wanted, at least in some circumstances. And he wanted to meet Oscar Piastri.

In general, he wanted to go to a MotoGP weekend and probably could have either bought tickets and waited around there like a normal person or asked one of his actual sort-of friends in the paddock to hang out in their garage, but the more specific desire was to meet Oscar Piastri.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49301212#main

• MotoGP!Oscar, Driver!Lando, Fluff, Humor *8.3k

> Negative Splits =

So officially, Oscar Piastri, pretty good steepler and pretty bad pacer, was now a professional runner.

They wanted him to steeple, mostly, though he’d be doing cross country in the fall, and Lando had pinky promised him, mid-distance guy to mid-distance guy, that if he wanted to get into the 3k flat indoor then he would get him in.

Oscar didn’t really want to ask how he planned on doing that. Felt safer not to ask.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48161206#main

• Non-Driver AU, Professional Runner AU, Injuries, Angst, Humor, Hurt/Comfort *10.1k

> Thinkin Bout Your Touch =

Lando’s brain gets so occupied by the thought it shouldn’t come as a surprise really, when a few rounds later Oscar says, “Dare.” Lando blurts out, “Let me suck your dick.”

There’s a long, awkward silence in which they just stare at each other, Oscar’s expression completely unreadable. “Uh,” he eventually says. “I think a dare is something I’m supposed to do.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48704749?view_adult=true#main

• PWP, Blowjob *2.3k

> I’ve Tasted Blood (And I Want More) =

Lando grabs a pillow and hits him with it, while Oscar laughs loudly. His fangs are on full display, white and sharp and pretty. “You know what I mean, you dickhead!”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Oscar says, eyes twinkling. “You want me to use you as a human Capri Sun. You know, like a weirdo.”

“God, you’re making this so much worse than it is,” Lando says, burying his face in his hands. It’s. Well, it’s embarrassing, but Oscar also hasn’t outright said no, so. You know what they say. In for a penny, in for a pound. “So, will you?” And then, just in case, he adds. “Suck my blood?”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48136999#main

• Vampire!Oscar, PWP *5.6k

> Legerdemain =

“You’re so modest it’s disgusting,” Lando says. “Michelle’s told me all about it. You winning against some master back in Australia. Anyways, she wants to hop on the bandwagon, get us to play chess, take photos after the weekend. She thinks you could teach me. It would show that you’re pedantic and that I’m pushing past my comfort zone...”

Oscar scoffs. “If Michelle’s only taking photos, why do I need to teach you it? Couldn’t we just pose with a chess set, like the Williams drivers?”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49690744/chapters/125422075?

• Chess, Humor, Sexual Tension *5.8k

> What You Do To Me =

“Oh,” Oscar says, because what else are you supposed to say when your teammate says ‘I wish I still had a girlfriend so I could fuck some of that frustration out of me’. “I mean. I uh. I could give you a blowjob? I’d suggest a fuck but I don’t have any lube on me right now and I’m guessing you don’t either.”

Huh, would you look at that. Looks like the award for ‘most insane statement of the night’ doesn’t go to Lando after all.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/47993518?view_adult=true#main

• PWP, Blowjob *2.5k

> Purring in My Lap (cause he loves me) =

The cat thing ends up getting sort of explained in Bahrain, when Lando walks into his driver room and finds a small orange cat sitting on his couch.

Oscar’s cat, presumably.

And he kind of looks like Oscar, too. Slender, lean, and with a slightly grumpy, unimpressed expression on his face. It makes Lando laugh a little. Like owner, like pet, clearly. “Should I just call you Oscat, then,” Lando jokes, giving the cat a little head scratch.

The cat, Oscat, stops rubbing at Lando’s hand and just stares at him instead. Lando would almost say he was looking at him disapprovingly, but it is a cat, so he’s probably just imagining things.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/47878867#main

• Cat!Oscar, Fluff, Slight Angst *5k

> In Limbo =

“So what, you like me?”

Tick this box for yes, and this box for no. Fold it tight. Slide the paper under the desk. Don’t let anyone see.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49619383#main

• PWP, Dubious Consent *2.3k

> Eyes on Me =

He just doesn’t understand why Oscar stares so much.

It first comes to his attention at the pre-season media shoots. They have to be photographed in the new gear, and the new suits, and all the while a video camera is rolling to capture content for some behind the scenes pre-season footage. Lando likes to look back at the content they film, just to see how awkward he is.

He looks over some of the test photos while the videos load, and he sees Oscar’s eyes on him a lot of the time. Lando’s own are on the camera, his posture relaxed as he goes through the motions of what the team asks of him.

Lando notices just how much Oscar stares at him, until one day he realises just how much he stares back.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49769368#main

• Mutual Pining *3.8k

> Home Is Wherever You Are =

‘You know, we could ask Carlos to babysit tonight,’ Lando mumbled against his mouth.

Oscar pulled back and hit his husband’s chest while laughing at him and shaking his head.

‘The man just arrived, babe, we can’t ask that right away!’

Lando pouted and pulled Oscar back against his chest. ‘But it’s been so long since it’s just been the two of us.’

OR: Lando and Oscar spend the day with their daughter and friends before finally having some alone time

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49909321

• Kid!fic, Established Relationship, Fluff *4.1k

> Grand Theft August =

Oscar Piastri, eh? It's not the worst idea he's ever had.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49975555?view_adult=true#main

• Angst, Humor, Smut *6.9k

> We’re All in the Butter But Some of Us Are Looking At the Cars = ♥️

Under it, the cross stitch with the Mandela quote, there was another one. A different one. Keep your feet on the ground and keep reaching for the stars. Stars, again. And then the one beneath that was also about stars. Weird, he thought, then went to the till to wait for his sister.

Above the pile, too high for twelve year old Oscar to read, a sign was stamped. SECTION #13: REACH FOR THE STARS.

Twenty two year old Oscar rests his nose to the glass and looks at the clouds.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49696357

• Angst, Slow burn, Prose, Realization of Feelings *14.3k

> Terraforming =

“WORMHOLES! An Einstein brain child. They are created when FTL objects puncture the bed sheet that is our universe. Going through them should be a trip through timespace, which sounds cool, except it’s not because we never know what’s on the other side—”

“I think you meant fabric, not bed sheet,” Oscar says.

Lando rolls his eyes. “It’s a metaphor, mate.”

“For what?”

“For like. The fabric of the universe.”

“Huh.”

“Shut up.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50099659

• Space AU, Non-Linear Narrative, Angst, Happy Ending *8.8k <- I literally haven’t read this yet because it was uploaded today but i love enzo and all their stuff is fantastic so i’m rec’ing it anyway :)

> Superdense Neutron Star//Post Supernova +

It felt good to laugh. Thursdays already kind of sucked, all of the walking and talking and nothing to do, even when he wasn’t being drilled on the abrupt shift of his career. It was manageable because it had to be; because there was half a season left and a championship spot left to fight for and a team that was still his home, even if he’d just been delivered the eviction notice.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49981615/chapters/126195823

• Angst, Fluff, Ambiguous Ending *21.8k <- i also have not had the time to read this one because of life, but i trust leaf with my feelings (and my life) so this also goes on the list.

EDIT 11/5: More additions to the list!

> Unraveled =

Lando does not have a thing for his roommate.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50085112/chapters/126476167?

• Non-Driver AU, Roommate AU, Bartender!Lando, Realization of Feelings *7.1k

> It’s Not Queerbaiting, It’s Saving the World =

Lando bursts into Oscar’s room without knocking. He’s red in the face and panting, sweat collecting on his forehead like he just ran a marathon.

“You need to kiss me.”

or, the drivers stage a protest, of sorts. Oscar might lose his mind.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49710619#main

• Fluff, Humor *1.6k

> Melepathic. Or Something =

“Thank God we used condoms,” mutters Oscar later, when they’re presentable, no doubt thinking back to last week when they. Well. Lando peeks out the door to check if the hallway is clear. It is.

“Yeah,” he says as he gestures Oscar out. “See you in a few, mate.” Oscar slips through and Lando picks up his phone again, sees a new message. Up for some fun tonight?

sure, says Lando after a moment. Amen to short refractory periods and all that.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/47589115#main

• Smut, Miscommunication, Happy Ending, FWB *8.5k

> What Would You Do (If I Went To Touch You Now?) =

“Okay, so they both like each other. We need to get them together.”

“How? Lando’s too freaked out to think straight and Oscar is the human embodiment of the standing man emoji.”

Charles purses his lips for a moment before he snatches his boyfriend’s phone up from the other side of the table.

“What are you doing?”

“Initiating Mission Landoscar.”

“Did you just make that up?”

Charles waves at him dismissively as he begins texting, and Max lays his head down on the coffee table and prays for strength.

***

In which Max tries to prove to an oblivious Charles how glaringly obvious it is that Lando is head over heels in love with Oscar. When Charles finally gets with the program, Lestappen go on A Mission™ to get the two idiots to admit their feelings for each-other, but it’s easier said than done.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48745483/chapters/122963314

• Lestappen as a plot device, Angst, Slight Smut, Fluff, Humor, Texting, Escape Room Shenanigans *29.7

> Soft Vanilla Foreplay = ♥️

“Oh shit, you’re,” Lando gasps, smiles. “You’re a. You’re Robin Hood. You’re a kitty Robin Hood.”

Oscar stops grinding. “Can we have this talk tomorrow?”

Lando laughs and comes down to place a kiss on Oscar’s lips. “Yeah. Oh yeah. Tomorrow. Tomorrow would be great. I’m sooooo busy right now. Hmm.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50382910/chapters/127293583?

• Vigilantes, Cat!Oscar, Hacker!Lando, Non-Driver AU, Slight angst, Humor, Happy Ending *8.6k

> Is it Gay to Watch Your Teammate on TikTok? (Asking for a friend) +

He’s sitting on the bed, dinner long since picked at, with his knees pulled up to his chest. He feels close to hyperventilating.

It’s playing on loop, some sappy little edit captioned “i need to find someone to look at me the same way oscar looks at lando”.

And really, who the fuck was going to tell him that Oscar smiles at him like that?

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/chapters/127611460?

• Fluff, Humor, Ship aware Lando (containment breach of RPF), Pining *4.6k

> HOCKEY!!! Shrimp Colors :) =

Montreal puts Oscar on waivers after years - years of bouncing from the feeder team up to the league, and then back down. Edmonton picks him up.

Edmonton keeps him. Lando does, too.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50562061/chapters/127728067?

• Non-Driver AU, Hockey AU, Leaf puts sports boys into other sports, Angst, Fluff *13.8k

> My Shelter in a Hurricane =

Oscar wants to help Lando get better after the disappointment of Qatar's GP qualification. He doesn't know how...

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50639854/chapters/127923673?

• Fluff, Established Relationship, Post-Qatar Quali, Slight Angst *1.4k

> Pretty When You Cry =

Lando wasn’t sure if he wanted to cry, rip his hairs out, punch a hole into a wall, maybe shove someone, or maybe all of the above.

Or: the mclaren boys comfort each other after that shipwreck of a qualifying.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50624551?view_adult=true#main

• Fluff, Slight Angst *1.4k

> Already Home = ♥️

Lando takes a deep steadying breath. “I think I might be in love with Oscar.” He says, and hates how immediately when he says the words, he knows it’s true.

“Right,” Max says, nodding. “And?”

“What do you mean, ‘and?’” Lando says, a little outraged. “I can’t be in love with him! We’re married! This is like, a disaster waiting to happen!”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50704861/chapters/128087614?

• Non-Driver AU, Fake Marriage, Falling in Love, Angst, Humor, Fluff *32.5k

> Do You Like Me? Y/N =

oscar & lando have an awkward plane conversation, aided by uquiz.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50706235/chapters/128091004?

• Fluff *3.8k

> Recreate the Sun =

“You know who you sound like when you say that?” Lando asks absently, tossing the open bag of Skittles to one side and hoisting himself up the bed to rest against the pillows, head tipped back, the jut of his Adam’s apple catching stark in the TV’s flickering light.

On some level, Oscar already knows what’s coming. The Cheshire cat grin Lando gives to the ceiling near enough confirms it.

“Who?”

“Mark Webber.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48632239

• PWP, Weed use, Oscar/Mark mentions *3k

> Landoscar Cooking Show =

Lando and Oscar's love story through food-related posts on Instagram

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50825998#main

• Picture fic, Social media fic, Fluff *0k

> Little Renaissance = ♥️

And Oscar - people said he didn’t like the spotlight, didn’t know how to capture it and keep it the way Lando did. They always compared the two of them, in that regard. Even after Oscar left. But they weren’t right, the strangers, not after the first year at least.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50824324/chapters/128393929?

• Future Fic, Retirement, Angst, Pining, Acceptance, Happy Ending, Prose *14.2k

> Those Magic Changes =

“Yeah, right.” Oscar’s beer tastes stale in his mouth. “Sure there’s other perks though, right?”

Logan’s attention has been taken by his phone. Probably a girl, Oscar thinks, or his Mom. Maybe there’s a particularly big fish being shared in the family group chat. He types out a message then locks it with purpose, chucking it face down on the table.

“Yeah, I mean. You know what they say happens when you podium, right? The girl thing?”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49308133#main

• Fem!Oscar, Smut, PWP *7.8k

> Sometimes I Start To Think You Hate Me Too =

Lando seems to have come to the conclusion that his strategy of appeasing him isn't working, so he opts for being impersonal, objective. "You were optimistic, Carlos locked up, you both crashed. It was a racing incident, and you - you are being dumb about it."

It doesn't work.

He scoffs, upset, he has never left anything well alone, he digs his heels deeper. "I wasn't too optimistic, I was inexperienced, was I not?"

OR,

The deep fear of yearning, wanting and needing without understanding the jealousy that consumes you. Breaking and breathing heavily under an awfully put facade of everything going well.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49659349/chapters/125339467?

• Angst, Inner Turmoil, Fluff, Happy Ending *3.7k

> Mine =

All in all, it’d been a shit weekend for Oscar. He knew he was beating himself up over understandable, expected rookie mistakes, he knew it was a great learning opportunity, he knew that the damage to his car hadn’t been entirely his fault on both occasions. Even if he didn’t show it or express it outwardly, it stung to watch his teammate stand on the podium - P3 - after all that’d happened. It hurt even more when that P3 became P2 before they’d even finished celebrating.

Lando moved up in the championship, so did the team. He deserved it, but it hurt like a bitch.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/51053692?view_adult=true#main

• PWP, Dom!Oscar *2.8k

> Sanctus = ♥️

“Nessun maggior dolore che ricordarsi del tempo felice ne la miseria,” Oscar read. Recited. Proclaimed.

“There is no greater sorrow than thinking back upon a happy time in misery,” Lando echoed.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50752399/chapters/128207113?

• Renaissance AU, Non-Driver AU, Angst, Master/Servant Relationship, Religious Imagery, Fluff, Happy Ending *5.5k

> Anything Less Than Human =

Oscar doesn’t really do entrances. Sure, in high society, it’s deemed necessary to stand at the top of some ridiculous staircase and wait for someone to announce your arrival. But that really only works in your favor if your name has any kind of good status associated with it.

Oscar’s not fortunate enough to fall into that category.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49902154/chapters/125979850?

• Vampire!Oscar, Masquerade Ball, Consensual Blood Sucking *2.7k

That’s all for now folks!

Authors (i love and cherish u all, you’re simply the light of my life):

@wanderingblindly @eisenberg @ocontraire @celientjeee @nyoomfruits @gaslybottoms and @ venerat (ao3 user)

P.S. whoever the nonnies are that wrote “Grand Theft August” and “We’re All in the Butter but Some of us are Watching the Cars” i would literally pay you to step on me, thanks and good night.

#fic rec #oscar piastri #lando norris #landoscar #landoscar fic rec #mctwinks #mclaren #formula one fic rec #formula one #f1

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beatificwrites · 1 year

Text

No time to waste (Ghost x gn!reader)

another ghost fic cuz why not?

word count: 868

content: established relationship, soft thingss

Simon had decided it was time. It was finally time to settle down with you and make a commitment that would hopefully last your whole lifetime.

You and him have been together for a few years now, the idea of marriage was always around the corner but you two never gave it too much thought. The life of Ghost was a busy one anyway.

But the second Simon came close to knocking on death’s door and somehow managed to survive, he realized that even though he’s always risked his life, that he needed to make the most of it and marry you.

The sky darkened as it reached nightfall. Once again, having to sleep without him by your side. You had no idea he was coming home tonight.

He was madly rushing home, he had to do this now, on this night. He seemed like a crazy man when he went out to get your ring. Maybe it wasn’t the perfect ring or biggest rock available, but he believed it would suit you and be a great symbol of his love, nonetheless.

As you finished throwing out the takeout box, you went on your way to the bedroom. You’d watch tv for a bit before finally drifting off to sleep, before repeating the endless daily cycle once again.

However, you stopped in your tracks when you heard a car pull up on the driveway. You weren’t expecting company, especially not this late.

You groaned in annoyance as you went to peep through the windows to see who the hell it could be. Your eyes instantly widened, and you almost cried as you realized it was him.

You went to open the door and there he was, your everything. You jumped into his arms and held on as tight as you could; you hugged him as if it was your last and never wanted to let go.

You heard a muffled chuckle and laughed too as he put you down after a minute.

“Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve gotten you food or something!” you questioned, exasperated.

“This couldn’t wait, love.” he simply stated.

You looked at him confused and waited for him to give some explanation.

He dropped his bags on the floor and took your hand. He held it in his and looked at you for moment, trying to desperately figure out what to say. He had thought about it in the car but blanked as soon as he saw you.

You tried to study his eyes but couldn’t read anything.

“Okay, babe, you’re scaring me.” you nervously said.

“I’m sorry-I…” he apologized before quieting again. You made this feared man feel like absolute jelly.

He huffed and held your hand tighter this time; he was ready.

“I know we haven’t talked about this at all, but I couldn’t stop thinking about us and how quickly things could change,” he looked into your eyes.

That didn’t ease your nerves at all, but you wanted to hear him out.

“If anything..if anything happens to me, I want you to be able live with everything I’ve earned.” He gently got down on his knee.

You stood there shocked, mouth agape; you couldn’t believe what you were hearing right now.

“Love, will you..please marry me?” he held out the ring he bought and waited patiently for what you would say.

This was a big step and so unexpected. The one and only time he’d get down before someone to ask something of them, would of course be this.

Before you knew it, a tear had slipped. This was really happening. You began to nod eagerly and smiled with bliss.

“Of course, honey, of course! I..I didn’t expect you to come home tonight, let alone..this!” you beamed.

Simon slipped the ring on, and you looked at it and grinned. He came up to you and lifted his mask so he could finally kiss the soft lips he had missed all those long weeks.

“Christ, I missed you so much.” he breathed out as he relished.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he placed his hands on your waist as you pulled him closer so you could bask in his greatness as well.

You wanted to keep at it, but you had to ask, “I thought we were gonna put this off for much longer, what changed?”

“I was almost gone out there,” he sighed.

“Luckily, I got help just in time.”

You caressed his face then put your head on his chest.

“I’m not happy you got hurt, but at least you’re here now and I get to go by your name.” you took his gloved hand and gave it a peck.

"I didn't want to waste another second." he placed his hand over your head.

"I don't want to spend another second without you." you sighed sadly. Even though you did sign up for this, you couldn't bear not having him by your side for much longer.

"Let me make it up to you."

You looked up at him before he began to kiss you again and again until your hands were all over each other.

"I love you so much, Simon."

"You're all I need, sweetheart."

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lovelytsunoda · 2 years

Text

teenage dream // george russell

summary: george goes all out when he finds out his girlfriend missed out on the experience of having a teenage romance.

pairing: george russell x female reader

warnings: mentions of sex & suggestive content, inexperienced reader. geochalex being chaotic.

authors note: welcome to the katy perry throwback series! lately I’ve been shockingly into her first two albums so here I give you a series for basically anybody I usually write for that wasn’t covered by the one direction series.

this one is so personal to me because I also missed out on having a teenage romance so I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do.

“so, george, how’s y/n?”

the mercedes driver rolled his eyes, sticking his middle finger up at the computer screen even though he knew alex couldn’t see, the screen filled with the latest game of apex legends that he and his closest friends were playing to waste the night from their respective parts of europe.

“she’s great, we’re great.”

he could practically hear charles rolling his eyes. “you’ve been acting strange for the past week and a bit, something is wrong mate.”

“nothing is wrong. in fact, since she moved in with me, I think our relationship has gotten stronger.”

“have you guys…” alex trailed off before clearing his throat “you know, have you guys had sex yet?”

“I don’t understand how that’s any of your business, alexander.” george huffed, leaning back in his gaming chair.

but the truth was, he hadn’t slept with y/n yet, and it was starting to make him nervous, wondering if he was doing something wrong.

she was so shy and quiet that it had taken the brit two months just to make sure that kissing her wouldn’t scare y/n off.

they’d been together for just under a year, and the farthest they had gotten to having intercourse was y/n letting george go down on her.

he had never even seen her without a shirt on.

“It’s my business because it’s weighing on your mind and it’s bothering you. we just want to help you.”

“well, no. we haven’t.” george sighed, pausing the game and running his hands over his face. “I know she’s shy, and she’s nervous, but she means so much to me and it’s killing me to think that I might not be making her comfortable enough for her to let me see her like that, or maybe she feels like she can’t talk to me about it-“

“george.” charles cut him off. “I know you want to avoid this conversation, but I think you need to talk to her about this if it’s bothering you so much.”

“I know, I just-“

“georgie? it’s late, baby. come to bed.”

george smiled, turning slowly in his chair, eyes lighting up when he saw y/n standing in the doorway. the love of his life was dressed in her favourite short-sleeved flannel pajama set: white with soft pink hydrangea flowers dotting the fabric.

“yeah, baby, I’ll be up in a second.”

“is that y/n?” alex shouted, his voice carrying through the headphones george was wearing. “hi y/n!”

“is that alex? can i say hello?” y/n smiled, reaching out a hand for the headphones.

george passed them to her, and she slipped them over her head. “hi alex, hi charles.”

“hi y/n!” both drivers chorused.

“lily wants to know how book club went? she wants to know what book to go out and buy next.” alex starting talking, charles quick to talk over him.

“I think george needs some attention, hes been spending too much time moping lately.” charles interjected. “he sounds like a man who needs his dick suck-“

“okay, charles, that’s enough,” george cut the monegasque off mid sentence, taking the headphones back. “good night, jackasses. I’ll call you in the morning.”

half an hour later, y/n was curled up in bed with a copy of lucy foleys ‘the guest list’, smelling like bath and body works and looking stunning, reading glasses perched on her nose.

george slipped into bed next to her, her eyes instantly drawn to the tight cotton shirt he was wearing, the hen tucked loosely into his flannel pajama pants with the different marvel superheroes on them. she bookmarked her page, placing the paperback on her nightstand before leaning over and quickly pressing a kiss to george’s lips.

“good night, gorgeous.” she said softly, slipping underneath the covers and curling into georges side.

george hesitated. “actually, honey bear, there’s something i wanted to talk to you about.”

a worried expression formed on y/n’s face, a bad feeling forming in the pit of her stomach.

“baby, what’s wrong?”

“it’s nothing bad, don’t be scared. I just, I was thinking earlier that we’ve been together a year now, and I’ve never seen you take your shirt off, and we’ve never really been intimate in the sense that we haven’t….”

“we haven’t fucked yet, right.” y/n said softly, lacing her fingers with his. “georgie, I’ve never told you this, but you’re my first everything. I never had the experiences that most people my age have, I never had a high school love, never had a one night stand at a college party. I’d never even been kissed before you.”

george felt like an asshole. “honey bear, I’m so sorry, I had no idea. please don’t feel like I’m pressuring you. we can take this at your own pace, whenever you feel ready, I’m be right here. I love you, angel.”

“I love you too.”

as george fell asleep that night with y/n in his arms, all he could think about was all the experiences that y/n must have missed out on.

and what he could do to make them all up to her.

———————————

you think I’m pretty, without any makeup on

y/n stood in the middle in the ensuite bathroom, dragging a plastic brush through her hair as she stared at her plain, delicate face in the mirror, an unopened tube of mascara lying on the countertop as george came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“you look beautiful, honey bear.” the mercedes’ driver cooed, pressing a gentle kiss to her neck, twisting the urge to slide his hands up the front of her white blouse.

he would wait for her to tell him when she was ready.

“thanks, babe.” she smiled softly, and it set butterflies loose in the drivers stomach.

she truly was perfect.

as y/n reached for the mascara tube, george slapped her hand away. “you don’t need that. you’re stunning without any makeup whatsoever.”

———————————

now every februrary you’ll be my valentine

it was late when she got home, and the large house, the house that usually felt somewhat less cavernous and wide when her boyfriend was around, felt empty like it had ever since george had left for bahrain. she had gone with him to the airport in gatwick and had cried before reluctantly letting him go with the rest of the mercedes team.

being a working woman and dating a man with a schedule as complicated as George’s wasn’t always easy, but she kept saying she could handle it.

she leaned over the post box to check for mail, her foot caught the edge of something soft.

she looked down, her heart filling with love as she looked at the massive bouquet of roses sitting on the front stoop, an envelope tacked to the front.

“oh, georgie.” she said to herself with a smile, struggling to hold the bouquet and get the door open at the same time.

after getting herself settled inside the house, and placing the roses in a vase on the kitchen table, she opened the card.

hope you had a good day at work, my love. miss you lots already. it’s way too hot here, and this is supposed to still be winter weather. hope you’re keeping warm!

love you, my valentine.

- george

with a giggle, she pulled out her phone to video call george and thank him in person. because of time zones, she wasn’t sure if george would even still be awake.

“george’s phone.”

“hi, toto.” y/n grinned, waving at the austrian.

george’s team principal had quickly become a very important person in the young couples lives, and whenever y/n needed to talk to someone who knew what dating a driver was like, and the mental toll that the constant weekends away that she couldn’t follow her lover for was pressing in on her, she found comfort in talking to totos wife susie.

“ah, y/n! you look well! george just came back from a meeting with his strategist, let me go find him for you.”

“thanks, toto. tell susie I miss her, we should get coffee next time she’s in london.”

moments later, george was on the phone, his smiling face and wide blue eyes filling the camera.

“hi honey bear! did you get the flowers?”

y/n giggled. “of course I got the flowers! babe, valentines day was weeks ago. you didn’t need to get me more roses. carnations would have done just fine.”

“but you’re my valentine all year round, darling.” george continued, a wide, lovesick smile on his face that made her heart swell.

“I love you, you big idiot.”

“I’m offended.” george joked, pretending to be upset at the jibe. “I love you too, baby. I’ll be home real soon, and I can’t wait to have you with me in australia.”

———————————

let’s go all the way tonight, no regrets, just love

“he crosses the line, and george russell is your pole sitter this hungarian grand prix !!”

y/n was ecstatic, jumping up and down excitedly in the lounge area of the garage, bright green mercedes headphones over her ears. she was beyond proud, watching the green and silver car back into the garage, the engineers, mechanics and strategists getting to their feet and cheering for the driver as he stepped out of the car.

y/n took off her headphones, hanging them over the monitor before she ran over to her boyfriend, her entire body seized with want as george ran his fingers through his hair, race suit tied low around his hips, abs straining against the fireproofs he wore underneath.

“I’m so proud of you!” she gushed, throwing her arms around george as he picked her up, spinning around in a few quick circles before he placed her back on the ground, kissing her hard and deep.

“we should celebrate.” george said gleefully, still trying to catch his breath. “order room service, watch an absurd comedy movie, maybe something with zombies? and then we’ll cuddle. lots and lots of cuddles, I think.”

that was what sealed the deal for y/n. she had already decided that hungary was going to be the weekend. the weekend that she gave george her everything, let him see her completely.

she kissed him softly, one hand slowly sliding down his chest. “or, I think I have a better idea.”

“yeah?“ george hummed. “what’s that?”

“I’m ready, george.” she said softly, slipping her hand down the front of his race suit to play with the waistband of his jack & jones underwear. “I want you.”

the drivers breath hitched. “seriously? god, I love you.” he kissed her quickly, pulling her close. “if you can contain yourself for an hour while I do media, I’m gonna take you back to our hotel and show you just how much i absolutely adore you.”

aside from when he went to the media pen, y/n was always at his side, their hands clasped together. the tire drive home, george always kept one hand on the wheel and one hand with hers. when they got to the hotel, he swept her off her feet, carrying her bridal style back to the room before laying her softly on the bed, leaning over her body to kiss her.

“I love you so much, baby. you’re in control tonight, okay? this is all about you, and I want you to feel how much I love you.”

later, after they had both come ( and it was the quickest george had ever come but he wasn’t even complaining about it because absolutely nothing could compare to the feeling of finally doing it with y/n, the love of his life) they were curled up next to each other, still fully undressed as george peppered her shoulder with gentle kisses, y/n sighing contentedly in his arms.

“you okay, honey bear?” he said quietly, voice husky. “do you need anything? glass of water, a coffee?”

y/n turned around in his arms, gently kissing the bridge of his nose. “I’m okay, baby. just a little cold. can you grab me a shirt?”

george was out of the bed in a flash, rotting around in his suitcase for a fresh shirt. one that he had worn already simply wouldn’t do for his princess.

he playfully tossed her the cotton tee before rooting around in y/ns suitcase for the large plastic hairbrush before rejoining his girlfriend in bed, overcome with love as he sat behind her, running the brush through her hair.

“can we still order room service? I was thinking about that the entire cool down lap and now I’m all excited.”

y/n laughed. “of course we are. and we’re watching the hangover as well, just like we had already planned.”

and then they kissed.

———————————

got a motel and built a fort out of sheets.

the house was dark when y/n came home. she had gotten stuck in traffic on her way out of london and wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and cry. george wasn’t due home from belgium for at least another twelve hours, and she had never missed the man more.

she was sweating in the summer heat, white tennis skirt sticking to her body as she took her high heels off, enjoining the feeling of her bare feet on the marble tiles as she crossed into the kitchen.

she had missed the suitcases sitting in the doorway.

y/n froze when she made it to the kitchen, staring in the direction of the den that lead out to the patio. the dining room chairs had all been pushed into the living room, in a large circle, draped in the grey cotton sheets from her and georges bed, a soft glow coming from inside.

and in the middle of it all was the man himself, george emerging from the sheet-fort to simply say “hi honey.”

“georgie!” she shouted, launching herself at the driver and wrapping him in a hug, peppering his face in kisses before their lips finally meet. “but how?”

“I got toto to put me on an earlier flight. I just had to come home to my girl.” the driver grinned, kissing y/n again. “come, let us waste the night away in my humble blanket fort.” george grinned to himself, pulling the sheets back to allow her to crawl into the fort.

the floor of the fort was covered in pillows, the duvet from the bed spread across the floor, fluffy blanket lying on top. an unmarked pizza box from costco sat on a tray in the middle, a projector pointed at the sheets.

“george, this is amazing.”

“anything for you, my sweet valentine.” george hummed, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a gentle kiss to her head.

“hangover part two?” y/n suggests, powering on the projector

“hangover part two.”

#lovelytsunodas katy perry series #george russell x reader #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #george russell #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #Spotify

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mango-bango-bby · 2 years

Note

Mangoooo AHHHH 1st off I wanna compliment your writing 😫✊💖💖

What would dabi and hawks do (I'm asking from that mafia series) if their darling got rescued by the police, like their mansion got raid and things are rough, they think darling is safe but then the police got their darling (they know because she's missing) and you continue~~~ also can I be your 💎 anon? Lastly i wuv u and your creations byeee~

♡ Taken From Us ♡

(A/N: Thank you so much, doll 🥺🥺🥺 You’re so kind!! Also of course you can be 💎-anon!! Welcome, 💎-anon 💖 I love you too and thank you once again!!!!! Also I think for once, I don’t have any BNHA requests lol!!! I think I only have JJK requests right now haha!)

Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, MAFIA AU, darling is rescued, stockholm syndrome, murder, angst but fluff at the end

Summary: You’re taken from Keigo and Dabi (Yan!Dabi x Gn!reader x Yan!Hawks)

Masterlist ➸ ♡

Series Masterlist ➸ ♡

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

♡ Dabi and Keigo are absolutely livid when they find out the police have taken you. They actually weren’t home when the raid happened. They were off doing “business”, their underlings were supposed to protect you. Yet those cowards ran, they ran, leaving you behind.

♡ Keigo is pacing around the room, mumbling to himself, and completely worried for your safety. Where did they take you? Were you alright? Were you hurt? God, you must be so scared! Out there in your own! You must be so scared not to have Keigo and Dabi to protect you!

♡ Dabi is not sleeping at all as he orders people to try and find out where you are and he himself tries to find you. He is enraged that the people they trusted enough to look after you fled. He’s snapping at everyone, he’s incredibly agitated by everything because he’s just trying to focus on getting you back to them.

♡ You refuse to speak to the police, simply staying silent. You stay silent, your eyes cast towards the table in the interrogation room. You also don’t even realize you’re doing it but you find yourself holding onto the necklace Dabi and Keigo had gotten for you, your fingers gently tracing over the feather charm and the flame charm that hang from it.

♡ You knew Dabi and Keigo were coming to get you because honestly you were terrified. You haven’t been out in the real world in a year or two (you’re not sure how long you’ve been gone). You miss your gilded cage. Dabi and Keigo provided for you, they loved you. You knew they loved you even if it wasn’t healthy. But you can’t help but worry that they may have been arrested.

♡ It was after about a week that one of the people Dabi had ordered to find you ran into the office where both Dabi and Keigo were, saying that he had found where the police had been holding you in custody for more questioning. They didn’t even bother to hear out the rest, immediately standing up and grabbing enough weapons to help them fight off anyone who got in their way when they weren’t using their quirks.

♡ Everyone who got in the way of getting to you was killed. Every room was searched until they eventually found you. You practically threw you into Dabi and Keigos arms, sobbing about how much you missed them and how worried you were. Dabi picked you up immediately covering your eyes with his hand so you couldn’t see the massacre they had committed. They walked out with you in his arms and Keigo rambling about how scared he was for you.

♡ They needed a safer place to keep you so they now owned a mansion in the country side, even if their “work” was mostly in the city, they were able to keep you safer in the middle of nowhere. The already intense security got even more secure. They only trusted few people with you. The windows couldn’t been seen through from the outside, the fences were so high no one could see in.

♡ You are absolutely pampered for months after it happens, they wouldn’t not let go of you for days after they got you back. You can’t bathe by yourself without both of them in the tub with you. You have to go with them to meetings too so you’re not out of their sight, although the make you wear plugs in your ears so you can’t hear what the discuss.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Thank you for reading, darling!!

#yandere bnha #yandere mafia au #yandere dabi #yandere dadzawa #yandere!dabi #yandere!dabi x reader #yandere!keigo #yandere takami keigo #yandere keigo #yandere!hawks #yandere hawks x reader #yandere hawks

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cookii-moon · 10 months

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Fic rec week catch up because I’m lateee

I’m sorrryefngfnegjef it was hard to think of fics because. I’m really bad at bookmarking. BUT!!! I went back. Through my entire history. And picked out all the fics I like. So now I can make a list !,, and also late by like 2 days sooo time to catch up!!!

Day 1 / July 16th: Canon and/or Lloyd

Pleasantly surprised by the amount of Lloyd content I have ready to go. Most of it is team focused with a Lloyd POV, so hope you don’t mind. I also have a few Lloyd fics I haven’t gotten to reading at all but do have bookmarked. So.

Guys. Guys you know this one. Come on guys. It’s like. An iconic movie verse fic series.

Buuuut if you by some miracle have not heard of it - Essentially, Garmadon, upon wishing on the mega weapon during season 2, ends up isekaing Show Lloyd to the movieverse and Movie Lloyd to the show verse. The respective ninja now have to work to return them to their home worlds, and maybe make some new friends and have a bit of an adventure in the process.

I’m not done with it but I am halfway through and the series is long, but a very fun read! Completed (though the series is still ongoing I believe?) and Canon divergent.

..can I rec a series? Yes? Ok.

A work in progress trilogy where Harumi is a ninja instead and Lloyd is a 1000 year old being causing quite a lot of trouble for the ninja, but finds himself cooperating when the Oni come for ninjago.

Very good and long read. Definitely a rec. Might make you cry. The first part is complete but the entire thing is incomplete. Canon divergent.

Lloyd centric platonic soulmates AU with a twist. Soul bonds can hear eachothers thoughts when completed. They’re so sure Lloyd is their missing link. Untiiiill his birthday rolls around. As Lloyd continued to go without a soul bond, he starts feeling more and more left out. It’s basically good old angst with a happy ending hehe. Incomplete and canon divergent.

a shortie but a goodie. Lloyd learns of all the ways his friends have control over their powers, and also the ways they don’t, and maybe gets something out of it. Complete. Canon compliant.

A two chapter short fic about some of the nifty little tricks Lloyd’s picked up from his childhood. A very cool premise and a fun little read!! Complete (I believe?) canon compliant.

A fun little fic where after the tornado of creation Lloyd is blasted into the past and now has to serve under his younger evil self to try and stop him from releasing the serpentine. Incomplete. Canon divergent.

I do have a feeew more but. This list is already long. So. Sorry that there’s not many canon based fics it’s just that the first prompts usually encompass fics that. Focus on the ninja. So it’s easier for me to order them based on ninja. Because unfortunately I mostly just read any fic tagged as Cole honestly.

Day 2 / July 17th: AU and/or Movieverse and/or Jay

Jay unfortunately falls under the what I like to call “I-have-lots-of-stuff-about-him-bookmarked-but-I-never-got-to-reading-them” effect. Aka the IHLOSAHBBINGTRT effect. BUT!! I have a precious few…

Without further ado!

first FFN fic rec! A story about Jay and Cole’s friendship over the years through Jays POV. It’s been a while since I read it but when I did I loved it so much.. you gotta read it for yourself… it’s beautiful and you will probably cry. Maybe. Happy cry or sad cry. Either or. Complete and Canon compliant.

Short fic about all the ways the ninja have adapted to being homeless from before being found by Wu, while Jay is trying desperately to understand why his friends are so strange sometimes. Complete and canon compliant.

Jay is horrible at Communicating: the fic. Misunderstandings spiral into other misunderstandings which results in Jay going rogue and on the run while the city needs him. If you don’t like screaming at characters through the screen over miscommunication, this fic might not be for you, but hey, it’s a good fic for what I remember. Incomplete.

Day 3 / July 18th: Angst and/or Kai

finally we’re in the present,,, oh my god… ok so. Uh. Unfortunately I do not have many Kai centric fics. Sadly.

so for the angst prompt, take this.

Multi chap unfinished lava fic. Most of it is alternating POVs but Kai is definitely there and it’s definitely angsty. Go. Cry. Be in pain. /j.

That’s all for today sadly,.. tomorrow is Cole… expect me to be there screaming :).

#ninjago #jay walker #ninjago jay #ninjago kai #ninjago lloyd #kai jiang #ninjago au #kai smith #kai ninjago #jay ninjago #lloyd ninjago #lloyd montgomery garmadon #lloyd garmadon #ninjago fics #lego ninjago #ninjago fic rec week #ninjago fanfiction

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koala711 · 1 year

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My Missing Constant | I

[Kaeya x GN!Reader]

You never realize how important someone is to you until you lose them.

Content Warning(s): Grammar mistakes, minor mentions of alcohol consumption, a n g s t

Word(s): 1,238

[Prologue / 2 ]

(A/N) Slowly re-making this series. Not much has changed from the 1st post of this. ... Sorry I posted this so late. I thought I already posted it.

---

“That’s… interesting…”

Kaeya stared up at the edge of Starsnatch Cliff curiously, bringing a finger up to his chin as he was once again met with an empty sight of Mondstadt’s little wanderer for the 3rd time this week.

Whether he was punished for patrolling one of the calmest areas of Mond, or was sent on a mission, he’d bet 100 mora that you’d be on that cliff, but now... you’re missing.

Kaeya hesitantly continued his patrol, finding it a little hard to tear his eye away from the empty cliff. Maybe you’ll be back tomorrow? He’s got all the time to check after what he somewhat Klee do to one of Mondstadt’s towers. After all, Jean did punish him with a tedious job and nothing else exciting for a week once again. Why not find the missing variable to his repetitive days?

"(Y/n)?” Amber repeated to herself, trying to wrack her brain for some kind of answer for the knight. “No, I haven’t seen them since last week, sorry, but please tell me if you get any word on them.”

That was just one of the many dead ends Kaeya found himself in.

It was a little frustrating to not come up with anything after 2 more days. Usually, he’d be able to find some kind of lead after a couple of hours, but he was met with… nothing.

Kaeya let out a frustrated sigh, leaning against the wall and bar with a drink in hand. He watched as it swirled around and around and glanced up at the redhead manning the tavern who rubbed a glass clean. Slowly, and obnoxiously, Kaeya breathed in and let out another long, dramatic sigh.

“What.”

Kaeya instantly smirked, setting down his glass of wine and leaned a little closer to the man.

“Do you happen to recall the little kid we used to catch crystal flies with?”

Diluc paused, practically burning holes into the wood counter as he avoided Kaeya’s gaze. It was obvious he did remember the little kid that they ran around with as a child, frolicking as if there was nothing wrong in the world. He could remember all different kinds of memories of that little kid as they grew up. They mostly consisted of good ones, but the most recent one always left a bitter taste of guilt.

“Yes. Why?”

“Apparently, our little friend hasn’t been seen for the past week,” Kaeya whispered, dancing his fingers around the base of his glass. “I was wondering if you’d heard anything about them from a little bird.”

This piqued Diluc’s interest.

Your presence on the second floor’s corner was oddly missing last Monday. It wasn’t a very alarming instance, thinking that maybe you’d turn up next week. It was only one night. It’s not like one night would bring him to worry.

“What have I told you about this?” The bartender groaned, finding this to be the 10th time he’s been having to remind the blue-headed man of his words. “Discuss these things in private.”

“We’re here at the bar alone while all your customers are feet away. Is this not private enough?”

“Being out in the open is not private,” Diluc scolded in a low voice as he leaned down to put the dry glass away. “If you really want to know, no. I haven’t.”

“That’s a shame,” Kaeya huffed, bringing his glass of wine up to his lips to take a sip. It hovered above his bottom lip for a moment before he tossed his head back, taking it all in one gulp. The glass hit the bar with a loud clank. “I’ll be off then.”

Since when was the last time he cared about you this much?

Your presence in his life has been nothing more than a flickering flame on a candle in the kitchen, struggling to stay alive. Kaeya never realized that that flame was so close to disappearing until he noticed how dark the room has gotten.

For as long as Kaeya Alberich has known you, you were a quiet person. Someone that only bloomed once you cracked at their walls bit by bit. There were many ways for a person that’d bloomed for you to disappear behind even more walls than before though, and he knows that he was one of your reasons.

He shouldn’t be so taken aback by your disappearance, so why? Why did it still hurt so much?

Regrets upon regrets piled up in his brain as he recalled your distant laughter he’d hear in the square as you talked to Sucrose at the crafting bench or the small smile he’d see from afar as you played with the city’s strays. How you’d always take his arm on the same night every year to take his drunken self home no matter your distant relationship, because you knew why he was so incapacitated. How he enjoyed being so close to you for once and not have to admire your (eye color) eyes from afar-

Knock knock

Once again, Kaeya Alberich was left in his office alone with only the sound of a ticking clock accompanying his stay. He didn’t realize how the moon was already beginning to take its turn in the sky. The candles on his desk were out, yet to be lit before he’d descended into his thoughts.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath in, trying to regain any composure he’d lost.

“Come in.”

In walked Noelle dressed in her usual uniform, only this time, with a familiar envelope held in her hands. Her heels clicked against the wooden floor, joining the clock’s chorus as the hour hand hit nine.

“Hello, Cavalry Captain Kaeya.” She approached his desk with delicacy, softly placing the envelope onto his desk and facing it towards him. “I have come with a letter from Master Diluc.”

“Thank you, Noelle. You are dismissed.”

Usually, he’d find it in his pile of papers like a magic trick, or in his small, singular apartment only a five-minute walk from here. Diluc was always secretive about their letter exchanges if any, so this was new.

A rush of possibilities of the letters contents made his curiosity begin to itch. It’s only been a week since the two of he men had spoken in the Taven last. Kaeya has been going to the Cat’s Tail whenever the urge to drink began in his gut, too embarrassed to let the red head see just what a mess your absence made him.

Kaeya leaned on his chair until the door finally closed behind the girl, grasping the letter for it contents urgently. As usual, the penmanship was as legible as always. In his opinion, it could look a little better, but Diluc never had the knack for it.

‘Dear K,

There has been word about a ‘(hair color) haired wanderer with a blue ribbon adorned with gold wrapped around their Cryo vision’ helping around Liyue Harbor.

Don’t mess up this time.’

“‘Don’t mess up’, huh?” Kaeya mused, gazing down at the piece of paper with a smirk.

He sighed, shaking his head, and got up from his seat and stuffed the letter into an inner coat pocket. A little rush was tingling through his veins with each item he picked up. One after another, Kaeya stuffed items he deemed as useful or possibly useful into a satchel and disappeared into the night like the wind with only a small letter left on his desk.

#kaeya #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader #genshin impact kaeya #genshin imagines #kaeya imagines #genshin x reader

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