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#and another part of me just wants to pat his back
sweetnans · 2 days
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Stuck in the moment || Bakugo, K.
Pairing: fuckboy Bakugo/hopelessly romantic fem. reader
Trope: Enemies/friends to lovers.
summary: You made a mistake, a huge mistake. You fucked the most cocky, annoying, bastard, fuckboy you knew. Bakugo Katsuki. And that fact was against all your beliefs. Now, after the rumor (truth) spread like a pandemic virus in college you'll have to live with the stormy consequences of your acts and whatever trash was brought with it.
a/c: Hey, it's me again. Here we are in a new series I plan to continue. I really hope you enjoy it. I put my favorite man in action (bakugo) being a selfish bastard that you would love eventually and I couldn't help to put another "trope" I'm a sucker for (guardian/father figure Aizawa) I'm so sorry if that bothers you. Once again, I'm sorry if I misspelled something, English is not my first language. (Not proofread yet)
m.list
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Blame it on the ovulation process. You couldn't believe that you ended up making out (drunkly) and fucking the one and only Bakugo Katsuki.
Bakugo was a total pain in the ass back in UA high school, and after the big battle, when the doctor told him to cooperate after his heart injury and surgery, he changed for better. Well... better is a word to describe it.
He had the looks, he had the attitude, and now, in College UA, he found a way to get the chicks at his feet. Who knew he would be good at flirting and getting the female attention, putting aside his obnoxious and loud behavior?
In the other part, you knew better, but damn, now you felt bad, betrayed by your own hormones, doing the walk of shame to your room.
Bakugo Katsuki was a fucking legend in college, the major fuckboy, hoping from chick to chick and jeez that broke all your standards about boys, how did you even end up in his room?
Oh, that was a good question that you could answer. Fucking cosmopolitans made by Denki and Jirou, they wrecked all your senses and because the planets were aligned you ended ip tearing up all his clothes along with him grabbing every part of your body while eating your mouth. He was a good kisser though.
You slid your keys on the lock of your room door. Jirou was there in her bed, laying with Denki who was sound asleep.
"Girl," she sat in seconds at the sight of you, patting Denki's arm to wake him up.
"Don't," you told her, completely defeated. "I just wanna cry"
You couldn't stop the tears streaming down your face.
For you, giving Bakugo your body and an intimate moment wasn't something to be happy for. He wasn't in your to-do list compared to other girls that you knew were dying for a peak of him.
You believed in love, in the vulnerability that it brought alongside the happiness and the sappiness. You wanted to be loved and not be used. For you, Bakugo wasn't a trophy, he was a mistake.
"Just let it go." Jirou hugged you tightly. "Did he do something to you?"
"No, no," you cried in her shoulder, feeling her arms around your body and Denki cli ging in your back. "He was a complete gentleman,"
You hated yourself for reacting like that. The man gave you all of his stamina pounding himself into you, and he was almost romantic about it. You were a fool, not like you were catching feeling upon the act, not at all. You just didn't want to be one more of his long ass list.
You had a single rule. Don't sleep with people you don't have feelings for. You knew that for some people, it was easy not to get attached but for you, even if you didn't feel anything like sentimental after the act you ended up craving the affection and the tenderness that came up with a relationship.
You've slept with boyfriends in the past and you did good with friends with benefits because at least there was a friendship to cling on, in this case, you only knew Bakugo by name and because Denki, your bestfriend's and roommate's boyfriend hangout occasionally with his group.
"I'll avoid him," you told your friends. "And everything's going to be fine"
You dried your tears and excused yourself, gathering your belongings to go and take a shower. You could still feel his scent in your skin.
Walking to the common woman bathroom, you tried to block the memories in your mind, and it worked until you opened the door.
"Hey," the pink girl greeted while putting on make-up in front of the mirror. "Oh my god, I know you, you are the girl from the party last night, right?"
Mina Ashido, one of Bakugo closest friend.
"Yeah," you tried to smile, but you failed. God wasn't on your side today.
"Are you okay?" She asked worried.
What could have given you away? Oh, your swollen and red eyes for sure.
"Yeah, I'm just hungover." You tried to laugh her worry away, and when Jirou asked about the encounter, you told her that you wanted to believe that it worked. But you never fooled anyone.
"Me too" she said giggling.
Thank god she didn't push it.
"I'm going to shower, so see you later...?" You said, and it sounded like a plan, but you just wanted to be nice with her.
"Oh, before you go, do you have any tampons? My period just came early this month. I think it's a reaction after drinking a huge amount last night"
Hormones, you knew about that.
Shit, period? Did he wear any condoms? I mean, you had your anti-babies method and all, but what about STD?
"Hello? Calling from earth, " Mina waved his hand in front of your face and you regained consciousness.
"Shit, yeah, sorry, here." You led her your last tampon from your bag.
"Thank you so much," Mina said, grabbing all her things into her purse. "I will see you around"
That encounter only made things worse. Albeit you wanted to avoid the bastard you needed to find him to have the most embarrassing talk of all.
You knew Bakugo's sexual life like the palm of your hand. The rumors on campus spread like the Black Death in medieval Europe. You prayed that your name wouldn't appear on those rumors.
It was easy finding him among his friends, the red-headed enormous cinnamon roll, the tall one with the tape quirk, and, of course, Mina.
You approached slowly and tensed. The first one on seeing you was Mina, who was happy to see you again after you gave her your last tampon. She waved his hand in your direction, and you smiled at her, trying to dissipate your nerves.
The time has come.
"Hey, uhm, I need to talk to you." You twisted your hands nervously after patting his shoulder to gain his attention. He turned around, and when caught that it was you in front of him, he just glared at you from above, the sun at his back making you squint your eyes a little. "In private," you said to complete your previous sentence.
He wasn't even giving you the time of the day before he was almost laughing at your face.
"Sorry, princess, I don't do rebounds." he solidly huffed at you with a side smile and all.
Mina was the first one to scold him while his friends just whined at his behavior.
That damn motherfucker son of a bitch bastard.
Your face passed from being the normal shade of your foundation and skin to a different shade of red. How could he be such a cunt about it?
But you had your mouth, too.
"Oh no, don't worry, I haven't seen a dick as small as yours, and you think I want to repeat that shit show? Oh, please. I just wanted to check if you have any STD I have to be aware of"
You lied about his dick at least. The only truth was that you didn't want to repeat the act.
The boys that were hanging out with him turned around to hide the giggling mess they were, while Bakugo only grunted in response, clenching his fist beside his stiff body.
"Why? Is there a problem down there? Is it itching or falling off?" He squinted his eyes at you, trying vehemently to put you down with his words. You denied moving your head like you didn't care at all about his attitude. "I don't have any STD. You should have seen it yourself when you were sucking me off"
Well, that was something a few people around heard. Scratch the "Don't be part of the rumor" from the list.
"Yeah, I should've had, but I forgot to bring my magnifying glass with me, that's completely on me, not your fault that you weren't blessed with something as big as your fucking ego"
The hushed screams of his friends were the beat you needed to turn around and leave him hanging. He had a piercing mouth, and you were almost trembling from the exchange of words, and yet, you didn't have the answer that you expected. Was he clean or not? Bakugo was a trustworthy man? Jeez, what a fucker.
Again, for the second time of the day you made your own walk of shame to your room.
"And, what did he say?" Jirou was waiting for you while she gathered all her belongings (and Denki's) to her side of the room.
"He said he doesn't have STD but I don't know if I should trust him...the scene was pretty intense." You sat in your bed, and she looked at you incredulously.
"Intense, how?" She quirked a brow, and you just shrugged before telling her everything.
"You did what!?" Denki stomped through the door. He was obviously listening behind the door like an old woman.
You hid your face in between your hands, internally screaming exhausted because of your poor decisions. Why did you leave the party with him of all people?
"He just nipped under my skin, and I had to defend myself, that's all," you tried to excuse yourself.
"You know that encounter is going to be the gossip of the week, right?" Jirou tapped your head gaining your attention. "You can't run of it"
"Jeez, I know"
All the situation was escalating from bad to worse real quick.
"Okay, fine, let's chill for a sec," Denki interrupted. "I'll find out about Kacchan medical records and I'll let you know, don't worry about it"
That's a good friend.
"Yeah, Denki can take care of that while you..."
"While I what?" You took your face off your hands.
"You know the rumor is going to spread before monday, right? You have to talk to Aizawa before he knows all of it in the worst way"
Shit. You had completely forgotten about the man who was kind enough to take you under his wing and be your guardian.
This was about to get good.
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riki-riks-chick · 1 day
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HIII im sorry forr requesting this again i just love how u write, can u make another non affectionate niki? where his affectionate gf stops being clingy bc niki is annoyed with it yet he got jealous when he saw his gf pat or hug someone
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Cling To Me ┃N.RK
non-affectionate!riki x affectionate!reader
riki gets upset bc yn isn't being clingy like usual and she's giving the other guys attention instead.
cw: fluff! jealous riki, kisses, hugs, riki secretly likes yn's clinginess.
wdct: 858
don't be srry for requesting again bc I'm lowkey obsessed w non-affectionate riks too. the first one was originally js for me but now im obsessed.
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Third Person POV~
Today you had plans with Riki and his friends, so you got up early, wanting to shower before he got up so you could make sure he had breakfast. He often skips so sometimes you have to semi-force him.
You took a quick shower, wearing some sweats and a loose tank top, and setting your outfit out to put on once you finished getting ready.
You made breakfast, a simple meal consisting of some fluffy pancakes, and some fruit. You also poured two glasses of orange juice, setting the table before heading back to the bed room to wake Riki.
"Riki.. Wake up.." You shake his arm, pushing his hair out of his face as he groaned. "Hm?..." His eyes flutter open as he gazes at you. You chuckle. "Get up... I made breakfast."
He sits up, stretching before getting out of bed and following you to the kitchen.
He mumbles a sleepy thank you before eating, albeit slowly.
"After you're done eating we can leave once we're both ready." You mumble as he nods. "Okay.." There's little conversation as you both finish eating, and Riki offers to do the dishes while you finish getting ready.
Once your hair and makeup is done, you put your planned outfit on which consisted of a pretty top Riki had bought for you and some jeans.
After finishing the dishes, Riki took a shower, spending minimal time getting ready, and once he finished, you both left.
The car ride to the arcade was short, and Riki had tried holding your hand and placing his hand on your thigh through out, but you rejected both actions by ignoring him.
He was confused because of how unlikely that was of you, but he tried to ignore it, not wanting to read too much into it.
When you finally got to the arcade, Riki opened your door for you, and you smiled, giving him a kiss to his cheek as a thank you.
The two of you walked in, immediately spotting Jungwon, Sunghoon, and Heeseung who were standing near the prize counter.
"Hey, guys." Jungwon greets as you and Riki walk over. He gives you a hug which you gladly return, making Riki pout. He gets even more upset when Sunghoon and Heeseung hug you too.
Now that he's thinking, you didn't give him a kiss or a hug when you woke him up, which is highly unlike you. And he can't tell if you're mad at him or not because you still made breakfast and you gave him a kiss on the cheek just a few minutes ago. It's all really confusing.
Once the rest of the guys get to the arcade, you all start playing games, and for the most part, you stick to Jay. And it's no surprise to Riki because you and Jay get along well and you call him your dad as a joke since he treats you like a kid and spoils you the same way he spoils everyone else.
But it's clear something is wrong when you guys leave the arcade, heading to a restaurant that you all wanted to eat at, and you don't sit next to Riki.
Not wanting to argue or make a scene, he decides to let it go, but it kills him everytime he glances around the table and he sees you giggling with Sunghoon and Sunoo. For some reason it irks him that he's not the one with your attention.
He finds himself wondering if you ever feel like this, and if it's one of the reasons you're so keen on affection, but he still can't wrap his mind around your reason for avoiding him today.
This bothers him until you get home, and you're both quiet as you change, getting comfy for the night. You're taking off your makeup and doing your skincare, but Riki is already on the bed, a pout set on his lips.
He waits until you finally climb onto the bed to glance at you. "Are you mad at me?..." He asks as you look over at him, confusion settling on to your face.
"No, why?.." You question as he sighs. "You've been ignoring me all day.. And you haven't hugged or kissed me at all, even when you woke me up this morning."
You chuckle at his words. "I didn't think you would care.. Usually you call me clingy when I'm all over you throughout the day." You mumble as he sighs. "That doesn't mean I don't like it... I was suffering all day because I thought you were upset with me. I went all day without a single hug or kiss from you."
You laugh at how pouty and adorable he is, moving to hug him, before pulling back to pepper kisses all over his face and then his lips.
He smiles, deepening the kiss, his large palm cupping your jaw. He eventually pulls away with a smile. "Please don't ignore me again.. I want you to cling to me.."
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wynnyfryd · 17 hours
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Trailer park Steve AU part 65
part 1 | part 64 | ao3
cw: angst, weed
Eddie reaches out then stops, hand hovering just above Steve’s knee, something like panic in the tremor of his wrist. “Steve, for real, man, please let me—”
“No, you for real, man.” Seriously? Man? As if there aren't so many more important things to discuss right now. Steve squeezes his eyes shut and pinches his nose, the voice of an old swim coach ringing in his ear. Game time, Harrington, c’mon, where’s your head?
“Look,” Steve sighs, fingers clenching around his shin. “We can talk about... this," he gestures between the two of them, "later. Let’s just— Important stuff only for right now, okay?” 
Eddie’s breath shakes when he answers. “Yeah.”
“Okay.”
“Cool.”
“Good.” 
This is somehow worse than silence.
Steve shakes his head, tries to focus through the fog of awkward energy. Important things. Important.
Like, how about ‘what were you doing with a pretty girl in my fucking trailer?’ for starters, or maybe—
Oh, fuck. 
Steve looks sharply at Eddie. “Why were you asking if I was real?”
Eddie stares back in silence, eyes huge, bottom lip trembling as Steve presses into his space; drops his voice, brings a hand up to wrap around Eddie’s arm — just above his elbow, soft leather and warm muscle shivering under the touch. God. Please. Not him, too. “Eddie. Did you— did you see something? Are you…?”
“No,” Eddie shudders. “No, sorry, just, uh—” He shakes his head with a grimace, a shrill sound spilling out, some frantic braying thing that might have counted as a laugh if his face wasn’t doing that. “Pretty goddamn sure I’m just losing my mind after seeing the— the fucking—”
His palm floats up to the ceiling in a wobbly zig-zag, looseleaf drifting to the classroom carpet in reverse, then he clenches his fist and lets it explode open with a ‘boom,’ the sound effect ruined by another strangled laugh. “Oh, my god,” he giggles. Humorless, horrified, nervous system overwhelm. His entire arm is shaking. “Oh, shit, oh, Jesus Christ, Steve, Chrissy’s—”
“Hey.” Steve tightens his grip on Eddie’s arm; waits for Eddie to take a breath, gasping and wet. “We can’t think about it, alright?”
Eddie’s voice cracks miserably. “That’s not fucking fair to her.”
“I know.” Steve loosens his hold; smooths his palm over the leather sleeve; wonders who he’s really trying to soothe. “I know. But we can’t— if what you and Dustin said is true, if it’s really some— some monster that hurt Chrissy, that’s trying to hurt us? We can’t grieve yet, okay? We can’t give him an opening to attack. We need a game plan.”      
Eddie exhales like he’s trying to mimic an owl. “Okay,” he nods eventually, slapping his thighs as he stands up. “Okay. Game plan. Yeah. Shit. Games and sports and plans and…” 
He trails off, mouth moving around mumbled gibberish as he wiggles his fingers and drums on himself, hands slipping up his torso, tongue over his top lip. He pats his front pocket. “Oh, hell yeah, baby.” Whirling to face Steve, he slips his forefinger and thumb into the narrow pouch and pulls out the Altoids tin where he keeps his pre-roll stash. “How’s this for a game plan?”
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ahqkas · 12 hours
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Mattheo with gf! Reader who spaces out a lot due to her adhd. Sometimes it comes to an extant where mattheo had to either pat her shoulder to snap her out or either snap his fingers lightly in his face. Of course mattheo would glare at anyone who would snap rather rudely at his gf.
© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified
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MATTHEO HAD ALWAYS KNOWN THERE WAS SOMETHING DIFFERENT ABOUT YOU. it wasn’t just your infectious laughter that warmed his heart or the way your eyes sparkled when you talked about something you loved. it was the way you would suddenly drift off into your own world, leaving conversations mid-sentence or losing track of what you were doing. at first, it puzzled him, but as he got to know you better, he understood it was part of your ADHD. it was just another piece of you that he adored.
one afternoon, the two of you were in the hogwarts’ library. the ancient room was filled with the soft sound of rustling pages and the faint smell of old books. you were seated across from your boyfriend, a pile of textbooks and parchment spread out before you as you tried to study for your upcoming transfiguration exam. mattheo was deep in a particularly dense herbology textbook when he looked up and saw you staring blankly at the high arched ceiling. your quill was frozen in mid-air, a tiny blot of ink spreading slowly across the parchment.
he watched you for a moment, noticing the way your eyes seemed to be far away from this land, distant and unfocused from the task before you. with a hint of a gentle smile, the slytherin boy reached across the table and tapped your hand with his index finger. “hey,” he said softly as you blinked a few times, your gaze snapping back to his. “where’d you go, angel?” he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.
you sighed and returned the small smile back to him. “sorry, i was just . . . somewhere else.”
mattheo chuckled and enveloped your hand with his before you felt a light squeeze on top of it. “no need to apologize. just wanted to make sure you were still with me.” he gave you an encouraging nod, full of understanding. you adored your sweet boy to pieces, especially with how gentle he was with you. the complete opposite of how he was with others.
later that day, during defense against the dark arts, professor snape was explaining a complex counter-curse. you were diligently taking notes when your mind started to wander again. the professor’s voice became a distant hum, and your thoughts drifted to the quidditch match next weekend. mattheo was a beater on the team, a fact that filled you with both pride and a bit of anxiety. you couldn't help but picture him out on the pitch, his muscles rippling under the tight quidditch robes as he swung his bat with a strength and power that was mesmerizing to watch.
you imagined the way his dark curls would cling to his forehead, damp with sweat, and the intense concentration etched on his face as he scanned the field for any bludgers that could be considered a threat to the promised victory of the slytherin house. you could already hear the cheers of the crowd, the roar of excitement that accompanied every successful hit. your boyfriend was as feared as adored.
as you continued to daydream, a warm hand gently touched your shoulder, snapping you back to the reality. mattheo’s dark irises met yours with a mix of concern and amusement dancing in their depths. he had been watching you space out, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips when he recognized what was going on.
“you okay?” he asked quietly, his lingering hand tracing its path down your shoulder.
you gave him a nod, feeling a bit embarrassed. how could you manage to live like this? with a boyfriend like that? merlin, you needed a release. “yeah, just spaced out again.”
the said boyfriend offered you a reassuring smirk, along with a knowing glint on his face. “it’s okay. just stay with me, alright?” he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze before turning back to his notes.
the final bell of the day rang, and you both made your way to the great hall for dinner. the long tables were crowded with students and meals, the clatter of silverware and the buzz of conversation instantly filling the room. you sat down next to mattheo, who immediately started piling food onto your plate, knowing that you often forgot to eat when you were preoccupied. a bit of this and a bit of that, exactly like you liked, before he moved to help himself to tons of food as well.
and as you ate, your mind started to drift, again. although this time, it was the flickering candles above that captured your attention. the way they floated and swayed to the atmosphere of the hall was mesmerizing to you. suddenly, you felt a gentle nudge against your side and when you ripped your gaze away from those lights, mattheo was looking at you with that same smirk plastered on his lips.
“earth to [name],” he said, snapping his fingers lightly in front of your face to emphasize his words.
you shook your head, blinking as you refocused on him. “sorry, i was just . . .”
“mesmerized by the candles,” he finished for you, his smile widening. “i know. they are pretty cool.”
you laughed, feeling your heart swell with the affection you held towards your sweet boy. he always seemed to know exactly what to say to make you feel better. but not everyone was as understanding. a few seats down, you heard a student mutter something about “space cadets” and “daydreamers.” before you could react, mattheo’s expression darkened and his soft smile shifted into a deep scowl. he turned towards the student, his eyes blazing with protectiveness and anger.
“got something to say?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
the student paled and quickly shook his head. “no, nothing,” he mumbled, looking away. mattheo was known to not be messed with and the student didn’t possess a death wish for now.
your boyfriend turned back to you, his expression softening instantly. “ignore them,” he said, reaching out to take your hand in his, the warmth providing you with the needed comfort.
you smiled, squeezing his hand in return. “thank you.”
the night went on and the two of you retreated to the common room. the fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the room as you curled up on the couch with a book, while mattheo sat beside you, his arm draped over the back of the couch. every so often, he would glance over at you and the book in your lap, drinking the written words in like it was water.
at one point, you felt yourself starting to drift off again, the words on the page blurring together. before you could get too far, the slytherin boy gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch instantly bringing you back.
“you still with me?”
you nodded, leaning into his touch. “yeah, i’m here.”
“good. because i’m not going anywhere.”
in that moment, you realized just how lucky you were to have someone like mattheo riddle in your life. someone who understood you, who accepted you for who you were, and who was always there to bring you back when you drifted away. and you knew that, no matter what, he would always be there, watching over you with that same loving gaze as you would watch over him with.
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theitgirlnetwork · 2 days
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Earn It
Ch. 7: Heaven's Happiness
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Note: As always, the love this story receives amazes me. Thank you so much for reading. Thank you for the notes, the reblogs, the comments and messages. Interacting makes this so much fun! I hope you all enjoy this chapter. There will be a lot more time skips from here on out! So you'll all get to know the gang as adults. I will ask that if anyone wants to use my story as inspo for one of your own, or anything else, you let me know, it's more fun that way. I also don't post this or any of my other stuff anywhere else. Once again, hi to my best friend who now reads this story, love you miss girl <3 Anywayyy, I hope you all enjoy! Thanks for reading <3
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Warnings: Some strong language
“She’s very gifted, Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock. The best I’ve seen at this age in my career. You could have a professional dancer on your hands.”
The three adults watch from the observing window as Heaven demonstrates Grand Adage for a group of her peers. Her little back straight and stomach tight as she accomplishes the move with a stern discipline that many adults struggle to achieve. 
“We know. So why is she playing Clara?” 
“Beatrice-”
“I’m just wondering, Luca, I mean I just believe it’s our right as her parents to ask Madame Sidorov why our 9 year old daughter is teaching the snowflakes that are twice her age the dance she doesn’t get to be a part of.” 
Madame Sidorov swallows hard as she brings her clipboard to her chest. She’s been running her youth dance company for over 20 years. Many of her dancers have gone on to be successful, working artists. But she’d never seen talent like Heaven Whitlock. The girl came into her studio at the age of 6, excited to show her that she already knew how to go en pointe even though children really shouldn’t and normally couldn’t do it until they were 11. Madame Sidorov had been overcome with excitement. She had a star on her hands. 
The older woman also learned that Beatrice Whitlock also knew what she had. The teacher has dealt with gunner parents before, but none like the stern young woman who trailed in behind her prodigy daughter with her nose in the sky and demands on her tongue. 
“Mrs. Whitlock, Clara is the lead role in the Nutcracker-”
“Bullshit, Sidorov, we both know that the prima dancer role is the Sugar Plum Fairy and the arguably most complicated dance is the Waltz of the Snowflakes, the dance you had my daughter demonstrating yesterday. So,” Beatrice’s heels click as she shifts her weight from one leg to another, hip jutting out. “Why is your best dancer playing the dumb little girl who spends most of the ballet watching everyone else dance?”
“I think my wife is frustrated because we all know our daughter is talented. So we’re having a hard time understanding why those talents aren’t being showcased.” Luca cuts, wrapping an arm around his wife’s waist in an attempt to calm her. 
“Heaven is only 9. We need to allow the older dancers to play the more advanced roles-” 
“Then they should be better.” Beatrice interrupts, swinging her purse over her shoulder, pushing her shades up onto her head. “How about this, until your priorities are straight, we can take Heaven somewhere where things are fair and you can dust off your pointe shoes and start teaching again instead of using my child.”
“But, all of my friends go there.” Heaven whines as they speed their way down the highway for the hour drive back to their home. “I don’t want to find another studio.”
“I know, Stellina, but we want you to have every opportunity. Wouldn’t you want more chances to dance?”
Heaven is stubbornly silent in the backseat, her step father softly pats her foot, reaching back from the driver seat. Her mother turns to face her, a noncommittal look on her face. “Baby, when you came to Mommy a couple years ago, what did you say you wanted to be when you grew up?”
The younger girl bites her lip, tugging irritably at her seatbelt. “A ballerina.”
“Just a ballerina?”
Heaven huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, looking away from her mother. “The best ballerina ever.”
“The best ballerina. Ever. And Mommy and Papino have worked very hard to make that possible for you, yes? Practice everyday, paying for lessons, buying you everything you need. But you’re a big girl now. You’re going to have to learn how to work very hard too if you want to be the best, baby. We can only take you part of the way. You need to think super hard about whether this is what you want. You need to think about if you’re going to earn it.”
Beatrice’s voice is soft and kind, but her words are harsh. She turns around, not waiting for a response from her daughter, satisfied that her whines and complaints had quieted to obedient, stifled little sniffles. 
Heaven stares down at her hands through wet lashes, her bottom lip wobbling as she smothers her sadness. She does want it. She wants to be the best ballerina ever. She is going to be the best ballerina ever. And she’s grateful. Papino and Mommy had given a lot. And she won’t disappoint them. So she’d go to a new dance studio. She would make new friends. And if not, that wasn’t what she was there for. 
Luca Whitlock frowns as he drums his finger on the steering wheel, looking forward at the traffic ahead of them. “How about some ice cream, Stellina? Might cheer you up?” 
Identical sets of brown eyes meet in the rearview mirror. The little girl in the backseat simply sinks against the leather, forcing indifference into her voice. “No thank you, Papino, I’m…not hungry.”
“And you have your, um,” Heaven scratches her head, mentally scrolling through the list of items Tashi would need at home. She was going to spend the first few weeks post-knee surgery with her parents. Heaven had stayed with her girlfriend for the days following the injury, lying to her school and telling them she had a death in the family that required her to take some time away. She just wanted to get Tashi settled before she headed back to UCLA. 
The dancer had assumed that their boyfriend would emerge out of the shadows, and use his charm to weasel out of an apology, ultimately taking over Tashi’s care since he had the most free time.
Unfortunately, he continued to disappoint her. So, instead, she lingered. Slept in Tashi’s bed with her, unwrapped and rewrapped her knee. Cleaned her dorm, brought her any work she missed. The girls in the athletic dorm thought she’d moved in. But now, Tashi’s parents were here to take her home for a little while. 
“I have everything, Hev, you made sure of that.” 
Her heart aches. Tashi sounds so tired. So down. Heaven is so frustrated. She’s ready to move past this part. She wants Tashi to just be better. She tells herself over and over that the surgery would fix it. That once she got the treatment she needs and a little physical therapy, she’d be back to where she was, ready to take over the world with her. 
“I’ll see you when we open, right? You’re still gonna come?” Heaven rocks on her feet, careful not to bump Tashi’s crutch. “You don’t have to, you’ve seen me do most of the dances and I know it might be hard to travel-”
“Babe, I’ll be there. Okay? I need to go.” Tashi lifts Heaven’s chin, giving her a halfhearted peck before turning to climb into her dad’s truck, gesturing for Heaven to stop when she goes to try helping her into the high seated vehicle. “I’ll call you. Why don’t you have Art help you get your stuff from my room? He probably wants to say goodbye.”
“T, are we gonna talk more about that-”
“I told you,” Tashi shrugs, hand on the car door handle, her pajama pants poorly covering the large brace on her knee. “M’not mad. It’s fine.”
It’s not fine. Heaven isn’t stupid. Ever since Tashi and Patrick found out that she’d done…stuff with Art, Patrick has been radio silent, and all Tashi does is encourage Heaven to spend more time with Art who she was decidedly avoiding. She’d gotten…caught up in the infirmary. The combination of the heightened emotions and Art’s soft attention and care caused another moment of weakness. She’d accidentally said something that she’d been denying to herself ever since, and thanking the good lord above that Art had apparently missed. She was determined not to tempt fate for a…fourth time?
Which is why she’d gone back to Tashi’s room and started packing her stuff and straightening up without alerting the blond tennis player who’d been haunting her dreams as of late. And it’s also why she almost pissed herself when he’d somehow materialized in the dorm room doorway, rapping his knuckles against the light wood, in a failed attempt not to startle her.
“I didn’t mean to scare you, but, um, Tashi texted me and said you might need some help getting this stuff to your car.” 
He looks good. She can’t ignore that, but she can refuse to get caught up in staring at him as he leans in the doorway, muscled arms on full display as he leans in the frame, a poorly hidden pout on his face. 
“I’m good.” Heaven shrugs, slinging her bookbag over her shoulder, trying to lift her purse and her other two bags at the same time, only to have all of her belongings fall out of her purse. “Fuck.”
“Fuck, let me help you.” Art bends and starts grabbing the miscellaneous items from her bag.
“I can do it-”
“It’ll be quicker-”
“Art.” She huffs, tucking her hair behind her ears and sitting criss-crossed on the floor. “I meant it, when I said that I was done…Tashi might be trying to teach me a lesson in some kind of twisted way, and I’m sorry you’re getting mixed up in it, but I’m…I can’t be around you and be with her at the same time. Clearly, I can’t handle boundaries.”
“So…so what does that mean? Not talking at all? Is that what you want?” He asks, shoulders dropping, eyes filled with hurt as he inches closer. “Heaven-”
“Sure. If that’s what it takes for it to get you to get I can’t do” she gestures between them. “This, then fine, let’s say that’s what I want.” 
Art clenches his jaw, blinking quickly as he tries to think something he could say. Anything to change her mind. “Heaven, please, I’ll…we’d be friends. We can just, I can’t…please don’t.” he finishes, giving up on trying to articulate his thoughts through his panicked haze. Through all of this back and forth, chasing and running, he’d forgotten the chance that once Patrick was out of the picture, that he might get written out too. 
His eyes scan her face as she shakes her head, shoving the last of her stuff back into her purse and standing. “Art, it’s not like I don’t wanna be around you. But stuff is getting too complicated. This shit is just too much. I haven’t been back to my school in days, Tashi’s leg is fucked and I don’t want to make things any harder for her, Patrick is just fucking gone and I really can’t handle anything more. So when you say we can be friends, I need you to mean it. I need you to tell me we can do that.”
Art finds himself in between a rock and a hard place. He wants to be honest. He wants to acknowledge that he can’t see himself getting over her within the foreseeable future. He wants to tell her that he’s glad she’s probably not with Patrick anymore, and as bad as he feels about Tashi’s leg, he quite frankly does not understand why it has to change anything between them. 
But he’s desperate. Art is humiliated to admit it to himself but, he would do anything to keep the line of communication between him and Heaven open so if he had to appease her by saying that they would be platonic despite the fact that he quite literally gets dizzy standing next to her, fine. Like he’d told himself before, he was playing the long game, collecting the points that matter. So, offering her a tight smile, Art sticks his large hand out to her, encasing her smaller one and jumping to stand at his full height. “Friends. But, friends don’t ignore each other for days, Hev.” 
Heaven bites her lower lip, choosing to ignore the blue-brown eyes that drop to her mouth before looking back up at her and shaking his hand. “Okay. Yeah.” The pair slowly pull their hands apart, Heaven shivers as she feels the calluses on his palm slide across her hand. “As my friend, can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Is,” the girl rolls her eyes to the ceiling, releasing a heavy sigh. “Is she done? You saw it, and you obviously know more than me…is that something she can keep playing with her knee like that?”
He can’t bring himself to dash the hope she was clearly harboring on the behalf of Tashi but the girl’s recovery is…unlikely. Art tucks his hands in his pockets, tilting his head as he chooses his words carefully. “Tashi’s strong, and really fucking good, if anyone is going to recover from that kind of injury, it’s her.”
“So…no.” Heaven sits down on Tashi’s bed, staring forward at the wall that’s littered with pictures of some of the best tennis players in the world. A shaky breath leaves her as she stares at the professional posters, accompanied by the posters Adidas had made with Tashi on them. 
“You’re a really good girlfriend.” Art whispers.
“I cheated on her with you. I’m pretty much the worst girlfriend ever.”
“No, I mean, you’re really invested in her. In the thing she loves, like you care about tennis the same way we do, f-for her.” 
Heaven smiles softly to herself, grabbing Tashi’s pillow and hugging it to her body. “I fell in love with Tashi watching her play tennis. Just like everyone else does.” she jokes, poking Art’s leg with her toe. “When I’m watching her, it’s like I’m getting to witness something. It’s…corny but tennis is her calling. She goes to some other little world when she’s playing, and, even though I’m not a tennis player, she takes me with her. It’s this feeling of closeness that I can’t get anywhere else, you know?” Or at least, nowhere else I’m willing to talk about.
He does know. Art does know exactly what she’s talking about. He felt it. Once, when he and Patrick sat and watched Tashi play for the first time. It’s an all encompassing feeling. He was so caught up in watching her every move that he hadn’t looked anywhere but at Tashi. If he’d just looked three rows in front of him he’d have seen the girl in front of him now. 
The second time, the feeling was more intense, more of a sensation than a mere feeling. It was when he was sitting in an empty theater, watching Heaven dance, just for him. Art had never felt the things he’d felt before. He’d never had the thoughts he thought. He’d held his breath for the entire minute and 26 seconds that she gave him. He sat on the edge of the red, fabric auditorium seat, scared to blink and get left behind. He wanted to capture the feeling and keep it forever. And he has. He’s kept it. And everytime she gives him another taste, a smile, a kiss, a laugh, a touch, he goes back to being alone in the theater, experiencing euphoria for the very first time. 
If that’s the feeling Tashi gives Heaven, then he’s very jealous. And he wants it.
And that’s another new feeling the girls introduced him to. He’d never wanted something like her…or…uh them. 
Jealousy. Longing. Needing. 
Art knew exactly what Patrick was talking about when he said he liked seeing him fired up about something. Because, as much as he loves tennis, it didn’t make his blood boil. It didn’t make his stomach muscles clench with intensity. He didn’t feel that satisfying nervous burn. Not until…
Art needs to test a theory.
He scratches the back of his head, looking down at his sneakers before clearing his throat. “Uh, so, Hev, I’ve got a match this afternoon. And, I know things are weird right now, so you might think I’m a dick for even asking-”
“Arthur.”
“Come watch me play.” He blurts. Heaven’s eyes widen and he finds himself taking a tentative step forward as if he was trying to soothe a spooked horse. “I don’t know, I just figured…I mean, you might miss watching someone play, with Tashi taking a break and Patrick being…himself.” When Heaven continues to look unsure, Art puts himself out there again, trying to entice her the way he knows how. He moves to stand in front of where she’s seated on the bed, crouching to be just below her level. “When I win it will be for you. I’d like you to be there.” Art carefully tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear, before grabbing her chin between his thumb and index finger, moving her face around playfully. “As a friend.”
As a friend. That’s exactly what Heaven repeats to herself, over and over when she carries her bags over to the tennis courts, placing one foot onto the metal bleacher and opting to sit in the seats down on the front to rows. Just so she can see better. And it’ll be easier to slip out before the match is over. Besides, she couldn’t bring herself to sit with the women’s tennis players towards the top. All she could think of when she saw them was that it should have been one of their legs cracking instead of Tashi’s and it didn’t exactly make her feel like a great person. 
She slips into the seat and crosses her legs, struggling as she pushes her overnight bag under the low seat.
“Hey, let me help you.” A blonde girl crouches beside her, pushing along with Heaven and getting the back underneath. 
“Oh,” Heaven offers her a bright smile. “Thanks, I have to head back to my school after this so I have all my shit with me, didn’t think I was gonna come.”
“No problem,” the girl chirps, plopping down into the seat next to Heaven. “Sara. Myles’ girlfriend, he’s playing after this first match. Whose girlfriend are you?”
Tashi’s name is on the tip of her tongue. She swears it is. But the girl is clearly talking about the players that were starting to filter in, with their red shirts that Heaven could see fitting Art perfectly from her seat. His blond curls flopping as his head moves side to side, she knows he’s looking for her. Heaven gives a soft wave to catch his attention and can’t help but match his smile when he spots her, waving back. “I’m not dating a player.”
“Well these are girlfriend seats, so don’t let anyone else hear you say that.” Sara says lightly, pulling her shades down over her eyes. 
Heaven turns to look at her, tearing her eyes away from Art stretching. “What the hell are girlfriend seats?”
“They’re seats…where girlfriends sit?” The girl sits up to get a pixelated picture of her boyfriend on her razor. “You know, the players’ girls sit, so they can see them. No wonder I don’t recognize you, you’re a plant.”
“I’m Heaven, I don’t go here, I’m just watching my friend before I go back to UCLA.” 
“Oh, shit,” Sara’s eyes widen in realization. “You’re Donaldson’s girl right? Myles’ cousin Kyle, trust me I know the names kill me too, but he was saying how Donaldson brought his hot girlfriend out with them the other night and was dick trying to show off for her.” 
“Again, we’re friends, m’not his girl.”
“Hey, Hev!” Sara ducks her head, watching out of her peripheral as Art jogs over, racket in hand, pushing up onto the fence so he could be eye level with Heaven. “Match is about to start, kiss for good luck?” He grins, holding his racket handle out to her. He playfully pouts until she gives in, leaning forward and pressing her glossed lips to the handle, looking at Art through her lashes. The blond wets his bottom lip and pulls the racket back. “Eyes on me, okay?” 
“Whatever, just remember you promised me a win.” Heaven giggles, crossing her arms as she settles back into her seat. Art beams even wider, hopping down off of the fence and jogging backwards back to where the players sit. “And spit out your gum!”
Faintly, she could hear Art’s teammates reprimanding him for ‘making the rest of them look bad’ and she smiles to herself, bringing a hand up to play with her name chain.
“Girl.” Sara snorts.
“Just friends.”
“Yeah sure.” the blonde girl shrugs, pushing her shades back down. “Don’t tell me, tell Donaldson.”
Art delivers a win, as promised. It wasn’t hard, really. One thing Patrick had gotten right was that college kids weren’t really much competition. And maybe he had some very good motivation sitting out in the crowd with her eyes locked on him. So he showed off a little, served a little harder, made the other guy run a little bit more than necessary. He could always explain that away as wanting to impress his coach and any possible reps looking to endorse him. And sure, he might’ve looked over at her for each point he wrenched out of the poor guy from Temple’s hands but…well he didn’t have an excuse for that other than it gave him a rush knowing that she is sitting pretty, legs crossed, perched with the other girlfriends, watching him, rooting for him, breathing heavy for him. 
When matchpoint is declared his, Art smiles cockily, strolling up to the net and shaking hands with his opponent before making his way over to Heaven again, this time climbing completely over the fence, leaving behind his tennis bag on the opposite side of the court. This time she stands, catching him a little as he lands in the small space in front of her and the fence. “Well?” he pants, lifting his hat to adjust his hair before placing it back on his head. 
“Well, what? You want me to say congratulations?” Heaven grins, sweeping some sweat that dripped from his forehead off of his cheek. “Congratulations, Arthur.” she hums.
“Thank you.”
“Mhm.”
“Yeah,” Sarah calls from her seat, smiling smugly up at the pair. “Good job, Donaldson. Why don’t you try to pass some of that mojo to Myles, huh? Getting kinda tired of coming out to these things just to watch you play.”
“I’ve got a lucky charm, that’s all.” Art nudges Heaven, wrapping an arm around her waist so she doesn’t stumble too far away from him.
“Yeah, so, lucky, or the other guy sucks and Art is good-”
“No, I think you’re my lucky charm, don’t try to ruin it-” Art laughs, taking his hat off again, his messy blond hair falling all over as he places it on Heaven’s head, holding her to him as she squirms.
“Ew, Arthur, it's sweaty!”
“It’s the fruit of my labor, Hev, that win was for you!”
Sarah scoffs, shaking her head as she watches the pair, leaning away to avoid getting hit when Art lifts Heaven, swinging her to the opposite side of him to help her get to the steps before grabbing her bags. As she sees him guide her by her waist down the bleachers, both of them cheesing as they chat as if no one else was there and she realizes that Art is leaving the courts before his fellow teammates play, Sarah commends her own instincts.
And then she makes a note to herself to start saving the returning girlfriend seat next to hers for Heaven. The other girls were sort’ve bitches, anyway.
“So, I should head back.” Heaven leans back against the driver door of her car, clasping her hands together behind her. “But, this got my mind off of things for a little, so thank you.”
“It’s what friends are for.” Art laughs, stepping in front of her, hand behind his neck.
“Pft, you’re such a dick. Aren’t you supposed to be the nice one?”
“I am nice.” he smiles, rocking on his feet, feeling his chest tighten as Heaven bites her rose petal bottom lip again. His eyes soften as he stares down at her delicate features and thinks about how right things feel when they’re together. How he hasn’t felt this good in…ever. “So nice, I’m not gonna say what I want to say. I’m just gonna say,” he takes her hand gently, toying with her fingers, pushing her thumb with his own, “goodnight.”
Heaven’s lips part, and looking up into his eyes, how kindly he looks down at her. What she can see in them almost does it. She almost got lost, just like that. But a buzz in her jacket pocket has her grabbing her phone and the message has her taking a small step backward and placing her hand on her door handle. “Goodbye, Art.”
“One two three, one two three, and Peter please keep up with Heaven, Heaven a little less hatred on your face, thank you, two three and up, I want her in the air-” Madame Fontaine claps her hands to the pace of the movements she wants from her two leads, following them as they move across the floor. Heaven holds her breath as she’s lifted into the air for two counts before she’s slid down Peter’s body, draping herself across him romantically as he kneels to accommodate her. “Yes, that is exactly it. Now kiss.”
Heaven feels herself wince, squeezing her eyes shut as she feels Peter’s lips press against hers.
“Still doesn’t look good, Madame.” Fallon calls from her seat. 
“No, no it doesn’t, does it? You two, what’s the issue, tu veux m'humilier et me faire me suicider ou quoi?”
“No, Madame,” Heaven huffs, swatting Peter’s hand away from her waist. “We don’t want to humiliate you or make you kill yourself, I don’t understand why we have to do the version with the kiss, there are plenty of variations without it-”
“You understood her?” Peter squints at the girl next to him before huffing, “Fine, whatever, MacMillan intended for there to be passion between Romeo and Juliet, and you curl your lip up everytime I kiss you.”
“I don’t like doing it.” Heaven shrugs. “I’m a professional dancer, not a porn star, and I’m playing a 15 year old girl, I don’t know why any sane, adult audience would want to watch me lay on top and kiss a grown man and then kill myself to be with him-”
“We open tonight. We are doing the ballet as we rehearsed, you two will kiss and you will tolerate it. Practice if you must, pretend he’s someone else, take a shot before you do it, I don’t care.”
“Madame, we’re 19.”
“Oh please.” The older woman storms off, her assistant behind her and the two dancers are left side by side. 
“So…should we practice?”
“Absolutely fucking not, thank you very much.” Heaven pushes past Peter, snatching her dance bag from the floor. “You’re gonna practice until your knees bleed for the next hour and then you’re gonna soak in the athletic building so you’re actually ready for tonight and I’m gonna go…I don’t know, pray.” 
As Heaven storms away, dramatically slamming the theater door behind her, she can recognize she was in a bitchy mood. She felt like she had a lot of shit to be annoyed about and was frankly pissed to feel her world collapsing around her on the first night of her first college role in which she’s the fucking prima. 
First, she once again demonstrated to herself that she has absolutely no fucking self control when it comes to Art Donaldson, a truth that she’s learned about herself that really agitates her. She discovered this as she struggled into the routine of only responding to the blond every couple of days and found herself sitting up in the privacy of her own dorm, reading and rereading every message she sent, the bright light of her phone shining brightly on her shame.
Second, she still hadn’t heard from her boyfriend (ex?), Patrick. She’d watched a couple of his matches while she was on the treadmill at the gym and as he does, he wins the first two rounds only to lose in the third. He found time to get lazy in his tennis playing but failed to pick up his goddamn phone and call either of his girlfriends.
Which leads to the third thing haunting her. Tashi is fucking irritable as shit. Apparently, surgery does not agree with her, because Tashi had been crabby for the last few days. It started with the day of Art’s match when she’d sent her perfectly timed message. 'Did he win?' It was like she was taunting her. Like Tashi knew Heaven couldn't stay away. It pisses Heaven off even more that she was right. Then Tashi had moved on to venting about how Patrick was absolutely wasting his talent, how the fact that he’s not winning pisses her off even more now that she can’t play. How she’s going pro as soon as she gets the chance because if this injury told her anything, it was that there was no time to wait. How now that she’s got time on her hands, she’s been thinking more about her plan for her life and Heaven’s.
And lastly, the real kicker, what had Heaven gritting her teeth as she did bar warmups this morning, was that fucking phone call. The one from her mother that she received at 5:00am when she was stretching. The one where her mother said she wouldn’t be able to make it to her first night of her first ballet in college in which she’s the fucking prima. And when she expressed her disappointment, Beatrice responded ‘It’s just a school ballet, I’ll come to your first professional one.’ 
So, yep, she was in a shitty fucking mood. 
But she wouldn’t let all of that stop her debut as an adult dancer. She was going to be a pro, she was going to do it her way, even if the 5 seats she had reserved in the front row were empty. 
So, she sits at the vanity backstage, putting her hair into Juliet’s first hairstyle. She listens to music that reminds her of when she was 15 to get into the right headspace as she puts blush on her cheeks. She offers Peter a soft smile when she sees him in his costume and forces herself to try to look at him the right way. Because the things that are pissing her off don’t matter right now. Right now, all there is is Juliet.
It doesn’t matter if Heaven’s smile is fake as the lights shine down on her when she first prances her way onto the stage. Juliet’s smile is real. It’s meaningless if Heaven’s tears are real when she squints and sees that her mother’s seat is indeed empty, her stepfather attempting to send her a thumbs up to distract from the woman’s absence. And so what, if Heaven can’t go to her happy place as she solos because she sees both Patrick and Tashi’s seats are empty as well. As long as she can still breezily get through her motions, as long as it looks beautiful for the crowd, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t fucking matter.
And it definitely doesn’t matter, that as she came out of her fake balcony in her sleep gown to blow everyone’s minds with the most loving, fucking passionate pas de deux they’d ever seen, she accidentally caught eyes with Art in the audience, staring up at her intensely. 
So she doesn’t have to feel guilty that when she kissed Peter, she envisioned him with curly blond hair and heterochromatic eyes. Or the fact that Madame Fontaine told her when she stepped off stage to change into her next costume that it was the most romantic, realistic kiss she’d ever seen.
Does Art know he's stupid? Absolutely. He's never dared call himself intelligent. He didn't need the little voice that sounds like Patrick calling him pussywhipped. He knows. But, he still found himself on the highway, traveling at a breakneck speed, eyeing the bouquet of flowers that he has placed in the seat.
He'd known Heaven was serious about this whole friend thing. She's so good, and kind. And she cares so much about Tashi and Patrick. But Art knows he can treat her better. He's sure of it. Despite what he knows to be true, Art refuses to pressure her...anymore. He'd just rely on the fact that if they were supposed to be together like he believed they should be, they would be. Eventually. Soon. Hopefully.
So he came fully ready to play the dutiful friend. He was gonna stand politely by as Heaven leapt into Patrick's arms after the show. Art was gonna smile politely as she and Tashi shared kisses and exchanged giggles as they talked about inside jokes that they only understood. But then he got there. He'd been directed to the front where the two premier dancers families were arranged to sit and found three empty seats separating him from a man with peppered hair and smart looking glasses who had his own bouquet of flowers across his lap and a Chanel gift bag next to his feet. As he inches into his seat the man looks at him with a smile.
"You must be Patrick. I'm Heaven's stepfather, Luca Whitlock, I'm sorry I missed you at her birthday." The older man holds his hand out to Art with a kind smile. "Nice to meet you."
Art offers him his own awkward grin, accepting the tight squeeze of the man's hand. "Uh, no, I'm Heaven's friend, Art. It's really nice to meet you Mr. Whitlock."
"You as well." The man lifts his wrist to check his watch. "Show is meant to start in a few minutes, hopefully he will be here shortly. Stellina won't like for her boyfriend to be late.
Art shifts uncomfortably again, checking his phone. Patrick had reached out to him a couple days after Tashi's injuries. Mostly to make insults thinly veiled as jokes, clearly still pissed that he yelled at him. Art responded with short, one worded messages.
It's the least they'd ever spoken since they'd met.
The guilt he feels for his part in this fight they were having is very real. But it was currently heavily outweighed by his annoyance at the fact that his friend was seemingly punishing Heaven by not showing up for her big night. He knew Patrick didn't deserve her, and he was only proving his point.
"Is Tashi with Mrs. Whitlock or..."
"Oh, my, my wife couldn't make it. And Tashi is still...healing. Her mother called right before I was supposed to pick her up."
Oh. "Oh."
As much as he's glad he could be here for Heaven, he knows that Tashi and her mother being there would mean more. His heart aches for her as he settles back into his seat and the lights dim. The pain he feels for her only intensifies when he sees her step out onto the stage. She's beautiful. The perfect Juliet. If anyone would make a man fall in love within a few glances, ready to die at the thought of not being with her, Heaven would be it.
Her eyes are sad as she eyes the empty seats, using them as a tragic point of focus as she completes her expert turns. Behind him he could hear people whispering about how gorgeous the girl playing Juliet was, how talented she is. All Art can think is that they have no idea. They don't know how she's managing to be so elegant, so beautiful, so perfect, even as she's in the type of pain she's in.
Art would do anything to bring the light back into her eyes so they would shine the way the rest of her was.
He loves her.
He knows it. He feels it as her eyes finally make their way to his seat and her smile is a little more real. A little bit of light slips back into her eyes. She dances even more beautifully, more genuinely than before. And his mind is filled with the same thought.
Yes baby, that's right. Eyes on me. I'll make it better. I'll make you happy.
And he means it. Friends or not. Lovers or not.
It's on Heaven's first night of her first ballet in college where she's the fucking prima ballerina that Art makes a vow to himself.
He was gonna dedicate himself to Heaven Whitlock's happiness. No matter what that meant.
3 Years Later (California)(Age: 22):
Tashi shakes her head to herself as she watches Art pace in the kitchen. She brings her coffee to her lips, blowing at the smoke slowly as she observes him from the couch, taking a small sip before setting the mug loudly on the glass coffee table. She rolls her eyes when he doesn’t stop his steadily paced steps across the floor.  “You good?”
The blond finally pauses to look at her, jaw clenching and unclenching before he opens his mouth to speak. “This is just different, you know?”
“How? It’s still tennis.” 
“It’s pros, Tashi, I’m just nervous.” Art says, running his hand through his blond curls. “These guys are good.”
“You’re fucking good.” She asserts, crossing her arms. “Look, I can’t make you believe in yourself. If you can’t do this, please, let me know now, because I need to know if you’re not going to make this happen. We have a deal.” 
Art sighs, planting his hands down on the counter, staring down at the scattered marble with a frown as he tries to get out of his head. Suddenly, he feels a hand slide across his back and an envelope lands on the counter between his hands, into his line of sight.
“Something for you to consider while you decide if you’re gonna fuckin’ play like I know you can.”
With that, Tashi storms out, heels clicking on the hotel room floor and the door beeping as it slams shut behind her. Art stares down at the envelope, reading and rereading the name of the sender.His heart both clenches and races as he thinks about what the 4 little words on the small, insignificant piece of paper could mean for him. How those 4 words and whatever they’re hiding behind them will ruin his life. 
The Paris Opera Ballet
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kymerawrites · 2 days
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PART 2 maffia reader! X Simon
The days went by and slowly you started to get used to your old life again. You found yourself falling back into familiar routines and habits, and although it felt strange at first, it was also comforting in a way. As you sat at the bar with Miranda, she gave you a warm smile and placed her hand on your back giving it a gentle pat.
“I’m glad you’ve returned” she said as she took a sip from her glass of tequila “Everything was way too quiet without you here.”
You couldn’t help but let out a small scoff at her comment. “Is that your way of saying that you missed me?” You said with a amused tone, a small smirk tugging at your lips.
She chuckled and playfully rolled her eyes, “Maybe, but don’t let it get to your head.” She said with a smirk before taking another sip from her glass
I just started to hug her “I knew you missed your best friend!” I smiled
Miranda was taken by surprise at your sudden hug and she couldn't help but laugh as she hugged you back. "Okay, okay I missed you. Geez, you're clingy as ever, even more than before." She said jokingly
“What can I say? I just missed you that much.” You said with a smirk and a small shrug of your shoulders. You pulled away from the hug and sat back down on your seat, feeling a sense of comfortable familiarity with your best friend.
“Well tomorrow me and dad have our first meeting, he wants me back full in the business.” I said while taking a sip of my tequila
Miranda raised her eyebrows in surprise and gave you a look “Wow, he doesn’t want to waste any time huh? He’s really eager to get you full back into things.” She said before taking another sip from her tequila glass 
You chuckled and nodded in agreement “Yeah, he’s never been the type to half-ass things. He’s probably eager to have me working with him again.” You said before leaning your head back against the chair rest 
Miranda smirked and shook her head “And you’re just as eager as him aren’t you?” She teased, knowing you all too well “You’re such an adrenaline junkie, always wanting to get into action and violence.”
I rolled my eyes “I cannot deny that.”
Miranda let out a soft laugh and leaned back on her seat “See? That’s your problem, you always crave the danger and the adrenaline rush.” She said with a smirk “No wonder you’ve caused so much trouble.”
You playfully scoffed and shook your head “Don’t act as if you never liked trouble Miranda, you were just as bad as me back then.” You said in a amused tone 
“Maybe even worse than me when it came to your temper Miranda..” I laughed
Miranda chuckled and gave a nod, a playful smile on her face “Yeah, I was definitely worse than you when it came to my temper” she admitted, knowing how feisty she used to be 
“Remember that time in the bar when you slammed a man’s head onto the table because he tried to touch your ass?” You asked in amusement, recalling the memory of her infamous explosive temper 
We just laughed and reminisced old times until it was the next day I first went to my dads office where he looked tired yet happy to see me
You walked into your father's office and couldn’t help but notice how exhausted he looked. Despite his exhaustion, he gave you a warm smile and stood up from his seat when he saw you. “Sol, mi amor… come in” he said in a tired yet affectionate tone
“I have a gift for you, and I want you to wear it with pride.”
Your father's words piqued your interest and you raised your eyebrows in surprise “A gift?” You asked in curiosity, wondering what he could possibly have for you. 
Your eyes widened as you saw the content of the box your father handed you - a beautiful necklace with a diamond lioness pendant. You couldn’t help but marvel at its beauty and elegance, it was definitely an expensive gift 
“It’s… gorgeous.” You said softly as you took the necklace gently in your hands, admiring the craftsmanship of the diamonds and the lioness pendant. You looked at your father with a slightly surprised expression “Are you sure you want me to have this?” 
Your father smiled warmly and nodded “Of course I’m sure. I want you to have it, mi amor. Consider it a welcome home gift.” He said softly “And a symbol of your position in the family.” 
You understood what your father meant, the necklace was not just a gift but also a symbol of your position and status within the family. You placed the necklace around your neck, feeling the weight of its diamonds against your collarbone 
Your father smiled in pride as he saw the necklace around your neck “You look beautiful, Sol.” He said softly “It suits you perfectly.” 
I just nodded my head “when is this meeting happening?”
Your father leaned back on his chair and looked at you “We have the meeting this evening.” He said in a firm tone “You are going to attend it, I want everyone to know that you’re back.” 
“And I hope you can come up with a plan to double our revenue.. you’re a smart girl you know the game from inside till out and everything around it.. and I think your absence made you a lot wiser.”
You felt a sense of pride at your father’s words, knowing that he trusted your judgement and knowledge. You gave him a slight nod of affirmation “I do have some ideas that could be very useful.” You said assuredly 
As Ghost stood at the isle waiting for his bride, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease and uncertainty. The conversation he had with Johnny had made him doubt his decision, questioning if he was doing the right thing. The sight of her abandoned house only added to his turmoil and confusion. 
He fidgeted with his suit, feeling restless and anxious. His mind was filled with thoughts and doubts, and he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was making a mistake. He looked out at the guests assembling, the church filling up, ready for the ceremony to begin. 
He felt a pang of guilt for going through with the wedding even though his heart wasn’t fully in it. He knew that he was lying to himself and to everyone else. He took a deep breath, desperately trying to calm his racing thoughts and doubts. 
As Ghost stood there with his thoughts racing, he realized that he was marrying Mia for a reason: she was everything he needed and wanted in a partner. She was loving, kind, and understanding, and she knew him inside and out. 
Despite his doubts and turmoil, he knew that he had made a commitment and it was too late to turn back now. He took a deep breath and steeled himself, reminding himself that he loved her and that their marriage would be built on trust and loyalty. 
As the wedding guests continued to fill up the church, Ghost tried to keep his doubts at bay and focus on the positive aspects of marrying Mia. He reminded himself of all the reasons why he loved her and why he had asked her to marry him in the first place. 
And there she was, walking down the isle, looking angelic.
Ghost's breath hitched in his throat as he saw Mia walking down the aisle toward him. She looked angelic in her wedding dress, with her hair perfectly styled and a radiant smile on her face. Ghost couldn't take his eyes off her, feeling a mix of emotions coursing through his body. 
But she saw the look on his face, she shook her head to the side as an indication to talk to him
Ghost felt her gaze on him and saw her shake her head slightly to the side, indicating that she wanted to talk to him. He couldn't ignore it, so he walked towards her, leaving his position at the altar. 
He met her halfway, away from the guests and the altar, where they could have some privacy to talk. He could see the concern and confusion in her eyes as she looked up at him. 
“What’s wrong?” She asked softly, her hand reaching up to touch his arm. “You look nervous…” 
Ghost's heart sank as he heard the concern in her voice. He knew he couldn't keep his doubts and turmoil hidden from her. He took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to say.
 She shook her head “it’s her right? The second thoughts.. isn’t it?”
Ghost's heart sank further as she accurately guessed what was troubling him. He couldn't lie to her, she knew him too well. He sighed and nodded, "Yeah, it is." He said quietly, avoiding her gaze. 
Mia looked around the crowd trying to find her face “she isn’t here.. she’s gone isn’t she?”
Ghost's heart skipped a beat as he realized what she was saying. He looked out at the crowd, scanning the familiar and unfamiliar faces, searching for yours. But you weren't there. 
He sighed and looked down at her, feeling a pang of guilt and relief at the same time. “Yeah, she’s gone..” He said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. 
She held his hand “then the message is clear, she’s gone and we can continue our wedding..” she smiled softly
Ghost was taken aback by her words and her smile. He expected her to lash out, to be angry and hurt, yet here she was, still offering to continue the wedding with him. 
He looked into her eyes, searching for any hint of anger or resentment, but all he saw was understanding and compassion. He took a deep breath and squeezed her hand gently, feeling a mixture of relief, guilt, and confusion. 
“Are… are you sure?” He asked, his voice a hoarse whisper. “You don’t hate me?” 
She chuckled softly and gave him a gentle smile, shaking her head. “No, I don’t hate you.. I understand.” She said softly “I… I’ve known for a while now..” 
“But shym isn’t here, which means she’s done, moved on maybe? Don’t let someone ruin our love for each other..”
Ghost let out a shaky breath as he heard her words. Her optimism and willingness to continue the wedding were endearing yet confusing. He didn’t deserve her. He was about to reply, but she spoke again, her words sinking in. “Don’t let someone ruin our love for each other..” 
Ghost felt a pang of guilt in his chest as he heard her words. He knew deep down that she didn’t deserve to be in this position, to have to compete for his heart. But at the same time, he couldn't deny that there was still a part of him that missed you and longed for you. 
Ghost took a deep breath and squared his shoulders as the ceremony continued. He repeated the words that were expected of him, saying "I do," yet he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt and doubt in his heart. 
He looked into Mia's eyes and tried to push aside the thoughts of you, but they lingered in the back of his mind. As the ceremony came to an end and the officiant pronounced them husband and wife, Ghost felt a mixture of relief and trepidation. 
And here I was, in a meeting with a lot of powerful people in our little world, coming with proposals
You sat at the table, surrounded by powerful and influential people in the criminal underworld. They were all listening intently as you spoke, presenting your ideas and proposals with confidence and authority. 
“If we want to make this work, we need the legals on our side, I suggest we make a deal with the defense minister, or make sure someone from our side wins the election that’s coming up, with that no one will blink an eye at our operations.” I said
There was a ripple of murmured agreement and nods of approval from the other people at the table. The proposal made sense, and it was something they hadn’t considered before. One of the men spoke up, “That’s a good idea. We could have someone we trust run for the position.” 
There was a moment of contemplative silence as you walked around the room, deep in thought. Everyone was listening intently, waiting for you to come up with a solution to deal with the two difficult ministers. 
One of the men spoke up, “Can’t we just threaten them? “ he asked, a glint in his eyes. 
Another man shook his head, “Too obvious, we’ll draw too much attention. Besides, they’re well protected, it’ll be hard to get close to them.” 
“Money and power is the answer, we’re dealing with hungry lions not scared puppies.” I scoffed
The men at the table chuckled at your remark. They knew you were right, they were dealing with two power-hungry ministers who didn’t shy away from corruption. They looked at you, waiting for you to continue. 
You continued speaking, “The key is to make them an offer they can’t refuse. We need to give them something that they want more than anything else. power or money, or both.” 
“And else, we’ll also put 2 of our trusted man or woman in the office.” I paused “if they won’t corporate, that’ll be our last resort.”
The men at the table murmurs in agreement with your words. They knew that you were right, they needed to be prepared for every situation and have a backup plan. 
“Alright at last, the formula. What the actual fuck did you guys do with my formula?”
There was a moment of silence as everyone at the table looked at each other nervously. It was clear that they knew exactly what happened to your formula, but no one wanted to be the one to say it. 
“No one has the right to modify my formula to make it less expensive, it’s a one of a kind drug no one else can recreate.”
Everyone at the table shifted nervously in their seats. They knew that you weren’t someone to mess with when it came to your formula. Finally, one of the men spoke up “We didn’t mean any disrespect. We just wanted to maximize profits by making it more appealing to a wider audience.” 
You rolled your eyes. “Appealing by making it less effective. That makes perfect sense.” You said sarcastically. “The reason why my formula is one-of-a-kind is because it works. And messing with it ruins everything that makes it worth buying in the first place.” 
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as the men at the table avoided your gaze. They knew that you were right, messing with your formula was a stupid decision. 
“I’ll forgive you for now, next time it’s your heads that will be the trauma of your wives.” I said coldly
The men at the table nodded feverishly, some of them sweating nervously at the thought of what you would do to them if they messed up again. They knew better than to mess with you, you were not someone to underestimate. 
I just sighed “everyone dismissed.”
The men at the table let out a collective sigh of relief as you dismissed them. They got up quickly and filed out of the room, leaving you alone. 
And then my dad walked up to me “you did great, it’s like your spark returned somehow..”
I rolled my eyes at my dad's comment, but deep down I knew he was right. I had felt a sense of excitement and adrenaline coursing through me throughout the meeting. It was as if all my old confidence and ambition had come flooding back. 
Yet I couldn’t get my real spark out of my mind, the person I loved.. who was now married to another woman.
I sighed heavily as I thought about Ghost, the man I had once loved with all my heart. The thought of him standing at the altar, promising to love, honour and cherish someone else filled me with a pang of sadness and loss. 
It was hard for me to believe that just a short time ago, I had been the one standing beside him, promising to spend the rest of my life with him. But now, that dream was shattered. He had chosen someone else, and there was nothing I could do about it. 
But the voice in my mind told me to get over it, I got back to my family and he was married. After a while my mom also walked in, she was on vacation but came back when she heard her little girl returned after years
I smiled when I saw my mom walk into the room. It had been so long since I'd seen her, I had almost forgotten what she looked like. She was wearing a beautiful dress and her hair was styled perfectly. 
She walked up to me and wrapped me in a tight embrace. "My baby girl," she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. "It's so good to see you again." 
The cold demeanor she always had dissapeared once she saw me but she also saw the look in my eye, she asked my dad to leave so we could catch up
My dad nodded and patted me on the shoulder before leaving the room, leaving me alone with my mom. She led me over to a couch and sat down beside me, her eyes fixed on my face. 
I winced at her words. She had always been able to read me like an open book, even when I didn't want her to. 
"I don't know what you're talking about," I protested weakly, trying to mask my pain and anger. But the look in her eyes told me she knew I was lying. 
“I don’t want to know the story, but I see that face, if this is about a man.. breaking your heart it means you really became soft.” She paused finding the right words to express herself to me
“You need to find a man who compliments your personality, someone that maybe be as worse as you.”
I listened to my mom's words, feeling a mix of irritation and frustration. I didn't want to admit that my heart was broken, especially not to her. But she had a point. Maybe I had become too soft, too vulnerable. 
I chuckled dryly at her last words. "As if it's that easy." 
My mom raised an eyebrow at my snarky response. "Nothing worth having is ever easy, sweetheart." she said, her voice gentle yet firm. "If you want to find someone who can match you in all your glory, you'll have to be patient and picky." 
I swallowed hard at her words. She was right, I knew she was. I had always been drawn to men who were dark and dangerous like me, men who could match my intensity and fire. Maybe that's why my heart had been shattered; because I had chosen the wrong man. 
I clenched my fists at the memory of Simon, how he promised to always stay by my side, how he swore that he would never leave me. But in the end, he walked away from me and found comfort in someone who was soft and gentle, someone who was the complete opposite of me. 
I felt a surge of anger and sadness at my own foolishness. How could I have been so blind? Simon had never been the man I needed, yet I had wasted so many years on him. 
A few months flew by in a breeze, I was back in business and we were once again at the top of the game, we had the whole country under our control with the influence I had. But I did raise eyebrows on the outside. Mostly from my old job. I worked with a lot of CIA agents to keep our business afloat but somehow they managed to find out.
As much as I tried to keep our operations under the radar, I knew it was inevitable that someone would eventually catch wind of our activities. So it didn’t come as a huge surprise when I received a call from one of my contacts with the CIA on the other line. 
"We need to talk," they said gravely. I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. I knew what was coming. 
I arranged to meet with the CIA agent in a secluded location outside of the city. I arrived at the spot a few hours later, dressed in a dark hoodie and jeans, trying to blend in with the shadows. 
The agent was already waiting for me, standing outside a plain black car and smoking a cigarette. They nodded in greeting as I approached, their eyes narrowing as they took in my appearance. 
I didn’t show myself today, he knew who I was I knew him for years “those pendejo’s need to always get in my businesses.”
The agent chuckled as I spoke. He knew me well enough to know that I wasn’t too happy about the situation. “Yeah, well, you can’t expect them not to catch on indefinitely. You’ve been making quite a lot of waves lately, you know that.” 
“I have a great plan, make sure every bit of evidence goes towards my enemies group.”
The agent raised his eyebrows, surprised at my suggestion. "You want me to frame your enemies for your crimes?" he asked, taking a drag of his cigarette. 
“Not only does it get rid of the suspicions they have on my father, I’ll also get them out of the game.”
The agent chuckled as he blew out a plume of smoke. "You're a real scheming snake, you know that?" he said almost admiringly. "But I have to admit it’s not a bad plan." 
I took a hit of his sigaret “I’ll trust you to make this happen, I don’t want a surprise invasion on my hotel.”
The agent nodded, a sly smirk on his face. "You don't have to worry about that. I'll make sure the evidence is foolproof. Your enemies will be so screwed they won't know what happened." 
Everything went according to plan until it was Simon’s unit getting the task to find out more about my enemies, but he’s smart in no time he’ll find sol Valencia.
As I heard that Simon and his unit were assigned to investigate my “enemies,” I couldn't help but feel a pang of worry. Simon was smart, he would see through the planted evidence eventually. 
Price put down the pictures, the enemies group and my fathers picture
Price studied the pictures closely, studying the faces of my so-called enemies and my father's picture. "Seems like a pretty straightforward case," he said gruffly, looking up at the rest of the team. 
Simon scoffed “Leonardo Valencia.”
Price raised his eyebrows, surprised that Simon had identified the leader of the group so quickly. “You know him?” he asked. 
Simon nodded, a grim expression on his face. "Yeah, I know him. Or at least I know of him. He's a real piece of work, but he's not stupid." 
Johnny rolled his eyes “that man owns a hotel, he’s old.”
Gaz chuckled at Soap's comment, giving him a playful nudge. "Yeah, old and rich," he pointed out. 
Simon threw another picture “and a heiress. Sol Valencia.” It was a pictureless file, no one knew anything about me but my name
Price picked up the file and looked at the name. "Heiress?" he repeated, frowning. "You know anything about her?" 
Gaz shook his head, looking puzzled. "I've never heard of her before," he said. Soap leaned forward, interested. "Maybe she's the brains behind the operation," he speculated. 
Simon nodded his head “exactly and she even planted foolproof on another gang, which we now also have to take down thanks to this rat in the CIA.” He turned around to a scared man tied to a chair.
PART 3 SOON 🙏🏽
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okay okay but imagine pissed off brat tamer Steven Adler and sub reader who usually never pisses Steven off....i'm dead bro
A/n: I hope I did good with this prompt, I know there was no mention of the rest of the band but I had an idea and just rolled with it ig so I hope you don’t mind and still enjoy it <3
Warnings: smut, slight angst, voyeurism, degrading, groping, slight praise link, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!
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It wasn’t intentional. Kind of.
You were just having a bad day! And you told Steven just as much over the phone. He was down at the studio with the guys and you were asking how much longer it would be before he got home.
He said only a few more hours but you asked him to come home sooner. You just wanted to see him, you wanted him to hold you and tell you everything would be fine and that you were beautiful and he loved you.
You wanted him to fuck you so good you couldn’t walk for the next week.
You wanted him to love you.
When he refused to come home you knew you had to take matters into your own hands so you drove down to the studio.
You found the room they were in with the help of another band that happened to be there. The guy who walked you over there obviously thought you were attractive, even asking if you’d rather sit in with his band instead.
It made you wonder how Steven would react, so you accepted his offer.
His was in a band you didn’t know but remembered hearing the name around somewhere, Steven must’ve talked about them at some point, maybe it was a magazine.
They were recording their own debut album and the guy you met was the drummer. He told you his name but you didn’t remember it, there was no need to. He said he’d already done his part and was just there to give his input on the others playing.
You sat in his lap, arms around his neck and occasionally shifting in his lap to get a reaction. You loved hearing his groans fall onto your ears, most of all you loved the thought of Steven catching you two in the act.
As if it was planned there was a knock on the door and in came Duff and Steven. They’d come to ask if this new band wanted to hang out, they were both new bands belonging to the same label so why not?
Steven just wasn’t expecting to see his own girlfriend sitting in some random dudes lap the same way you sat in his lap.
When Duff walked out he didn’t wait for Steven, he saw you sitting there, he knew there’d be words. “Hey, can I see you for a second?” He asked, looking at you with a stern expression.
The drummer you were sitting on looked at you with a confused expression. “But I’m comfy.” You whined with a pout.
“I don’t care, you’re my girlfriend, come on.” He said, coming over and taking you from the other drummer who just stared at you dumbfounded. You never mentioned anything about a partner. He spewed out apology after apology as his band mates laughed while you got borderline dragged out of the room.
Steven dragged you back to Guns recording room. You thought he’d take you to a closet or empty room, maybe his car or something but no.
He sat back on the couch but when you tried to sit down he pushed you off the couch. You looked at him with furrowed brows.
He unzipped his jeans and pat his thigh. You moved between his legs, heat building between your own as you looked up at him with wide eyes.
“The fuck are you doing?” Slash asked as he watched you, though the question was directed at Steven.
“She wanted attention.” Steven stated and pulled himself out of his boxers. You hit your lip and hesitantly took him into your mouth. Cheeks heating up as you felt four sets of eyes on you, Stevens head rolling back already.
You started moving up and down on his length, gagging slightly around him as soft groans left him.
Out of the corner of your eye you noticed that Slash was palming himself through his jeans, you could hear Duff groaning as well. While you couldn’t see Izzy or Axl you figured they were both in similar situations.
You just wanted attention from your boyfriend, not everyones eyes on you as you sucked Steven off. You wanted a reaction from him but you didn’t think it’d be this.
You kept going, eyes watering and tears trickling down your cheeks, mixing with the drool slipping out the corners of your mouth.
Steven was twitching down your throat, his head relaxed on the back of the couch as moans left him.
“Fuck.” Duff groaned. You hadn’t realized he’d come up beside you, now stroking himself not far from your face. “You’re so pretty like that.” You stared up at the tall blond, letting Steven take control and thrust up into you.
“Aw, look at that.” Slash chimed, also jerking himself off at the sight of your lips wrapped around Stevens cock. “Getting all starry eyed when someone calls you pretty.” He gently rubbed your wet cheek with a finger.
“Is that all you wanted?” Steven asked, caressing your cheek. You nodded, still taking him in your mouth. “Well, that’s to bad.” He pulled you off of him and got you to your feet just to push you onto the couch and push into your needy cunt. “Shouldve thought about that before being a whore.”
Steven started slamming into you at a brutal pace, not giving you a moment of peace. Loud moans and sobs ripped from your throat as you body bounced from his harsh thrusts, the only thing keeping your head from repeatedly banging against the wall was Duffs arm he had resting on the couch, specifically put there so you wouldn’t get hurt.
Even with Stevens aggressive pace and cold words, feeling everyone’s eyes on you knowing they were getting off on the sight, the few praises you got for simply sitting pretty for them was enough to get that hot knot building in your gut.
Stevens arms wrapped around you, pulling you up so you were held tight against his chest. Slash lazily reached for you chest and Steven held up your shirt for him. He stuffed the hem in your mouth and bit your neck. “You need to shut up more.” He whispered in your ear.
“Fuck you, I like hearing her.” Axl grunted, you could tell he was getting close. Everyone was getting close but no one wanted to cum first.
You reached down to rub yourself but Steven slapped your hand away. “Oh, come on,” Duff chimed, “she’s been good.” He reached over and lightly toyed with you. Slash groped your chest, pinching your nipples between his calloused fingers.
It all finally boiled over and the knot inside you finally came undone. Waves of heat washed over you, jolts of pleasure rocketing through your body and making you shake.
Your mind was wrecked. Everything was foggy, the guys voices were all muffled and you weren’t entirely sure what was happening. All you knew was that finally Steven was holding you tightly and lovingly, kissing you sweetly all over, whispering praises in your ear just as you had wanted when you came down in the first place.
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idkwhatever580 · 2 days
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Hi would you write about Regina trauma and ed ?
Yes of course! I hope I do you justice :)
She knows.
Masterlist
Pairings: Regina George x reader
Prompt: Regina comforts r as they battle their ed and work through generational trauma.
Warnings: eating disorder, trauma, panic attacks, swearing.
A/N: I hope I do it justice! hopefully I don’t mess it up.
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Nobody’s pov
Regina put the pieces together after a few months.
First she started getting confused when you would quickly go to the bathroom after a meal and then come back exhausted.
She tried to leave it alone and blame it on you just needing the bathroom after eating.
Then she realized you stopped wearing clothes that fit you properly. You started wearing baggier clothes.
She brushed it aside when you blamed it on wanting to be more comfortable.
Then one day she was looking back at old pictures of you two and she noticed that you definitely looked healthier then.
You blamed it on the weather. Sometimes you just look different in the winter.
She went with it.
Part of her never wanted to even imagine it. But the other part of her was screaming that something was wrong.
The last thing she noticed was how you’d never let her cuddle you anymore. Until one day you had a panic attack and she had held you to ground you.
Unbeknownst to you, her eyes filled with tears when she felt how fragile and small you had gotten in her arms.
She felt horrible for not connecting the dots earlier. But now she had to do something. So she starts thinking of how to confront you without making you freak out or anything.
The next time she picks you up she decides that she’s going to sit you down.
Y/n’s pov
I get into the hot pink jeep after another horrible day.
I just wish I was skinny. Like Gina. She’s perfect. I’m not. I’m nowhere near her size. I can’t even go five minutes without seeing someone laughing. They’re probably laughing about my size.
Regina cuts into my thoughts by saying
“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”
I shrug and say
“Nothing. Just have some homework”
She nods and starts driving us home.
Once we get to her house I walk in and Mrs George smiles and goes to hug me but then stops realizing I’ve rejected her hugs for a while.
I send her a smile and Regina brings me up to her room.
“Can I talk to you?”
Regina’s sudden question has me a bit nervous. I nod my head and say
“Yeah. You can tell me anything.”
She sits down on her giant bed and pats next to her so I sit too.
Great. Here’s the “it’s not you it’s me” speech
She sighs and says
“Y/n. I’ve noticed a few things about you lately and I just wanted to ask if you’re okay?”
My face goes pale.
She knows. Of course she knows she is trying to get it out of me before she pries it out herself. Great. She’s gonna hate me and think I’m disgusting.
I didn’t even realize it, but when I got lost in my thoughts, my tears started building up and falling down.
“Hey hey. It’s okay please just tell me what’s going on?”
All of a sudden I feel a tightness in my chest. I start to panic when I feel this way because I’m feeling claustrophobic right now.
It feels like the walls are closing in on me. I can’t breathe.
Nobody’s pov
Regina widens her eyes when you start to hyperventilate.
She says
“Hey hey! It’s okay. It’s okay baby. You’re gonna be okay.”
Regina doesn’t quite know how to handle this situation so she asks.
“Can you hear me?”
You nod your head a bit and Regina says
“Do you want me to get my mom?”
You rapidly shake your head and she nods.
“Okay. Can I touch you baby?”
“Mmhm”
She immediately envelopes you in a hug and says
“Come on y/n I need you to breathe with me.”
She puts your head on her chest and works you through it.
It takes a few minutes for Regina’s breathing techniques to get through to you but you’re breathing alright.
Regina thinks
Okay so this is gonna be a lot harder than I expected.
She takes a breath to calm herself and says
“Can you tell me what’s happening?”
You nod you head and say
“I just- I don’t want you to leave me”
Regina looks at you with sadness.
“I’m sorry you ever thought I would ever leave you baby. I’m not going anywhere. We’re stuck together. And I mean it.”
You nod your head and look away.
You try to form the words and communicate to her that you need help but it just comes out in a sobbed
“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry”
Regina hugs you again and helps you calm down before you finish.
“I didn’t think it would go this far. I just.”
Your tone lowers to a hushed whisper and you say
“I just wanted to be skinny like you”
Regina misses the last part and she says
“Hmm baby? I couldn’t hear you”
You huff and say
“I wanted to be skinny. Like you.”
Regina’s eyes widen gigantically. She just now realizes how stupid she is.
She’s always worried about her size. She didn’t even think once to remember about how it might affect you.
She snaps out of her thoughts and shakes her head.
“No honey. You’re beautiful. So so perfectly beautiful just the way you are okay? I want you to be healthy baby.”
You nod your head and Regina can tell you want to say something.
“Did you want to tell me something?”
You nod and quietly say
“Will you help me eat?”
Regina smiles hugely at this and says
“Of course! What are you in the mood for? I can make you anything. And if I can’t we’ll buy it”
You shrug and say
“I don’t know.”
Regina thinks and says
“Is that you don’t know as in you do know you’re just scared to ask? Or is it as in you actually don’t know?”
You smile at her knowing you and you say
“Can I try sushi? I haven’t had it in so long. I feel like I might be able to do that”
She smiles and nods her head. She then says
“Do you want me to make it or order it?”
You say
“Um order. Can we get that one place you took me?”
She smiles knowing what you’re talking about and nods her head. She whips her phone out and orders your usual.
When it arrives you sit down staring at it.
It’s as if it is challenging you.
But Regina sits next to you at the table and pulls you into her lap.
At first you get nervous but then you feel so warm inside at her holding you close like she used to.
She grabs a piece of sushi and takes a bite and looks at you and says
“Whenever you’re ready sweetheart”
You nod and pick up a piece. You dip it in sauce and take about half a bite and you let it sit in your mouth.
Slowly but surely you start chewing it. Regina rubs your hips and says
“You’re doing great hun. Just tell me if you need to stop okay?”
You nod your head and finally you swallow. It was so daunting but it felt like a small weight was lifted off of your chest.
She picks up the rest and feeds it to you when you accept.
Her smile is gigantic and she is giving you so much praise and appreciation for this simple task.
After about three pieces of sushi you let out a strangled sigh and Regina says
“Can you do one more bite baby?”
After contemplating for a while you nod your head. Determined to make Regina happy. You finish the last bite and tear up a bit.
She shushes you and comforts you so well.
“You did so good. So so good. You’re perfect. So so perfect. My baby”
You lean back into her as she finishes what you didn’t eat and then suddenly you say
“I’m sorry”
She furrows her eyebrows and says
“Why for? Are you okay baby? Do you need the bathroom?”
She’s ready to jump into action in case it was too much for you but you shake your head. And say
“I’m sorry I couldn’t finish it”
She shakes her head aggressively and says
“No! No baby. You did so well. I’m literally so proud of you. Honestly I didn’t expect you to do that much. And it made me so so happy.”
You send a slight smile her way and relax into her hold.
You’ve got a long way to go but it’s a start.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: man that took forever. I hope it was good for you!!! I genuinely like died for a sec there and I couldn’t write at all. My brain was just like gone for. It was like fried lol. I hope you liked it! I’ve never written about this topic before so I understand if it’s sensitive.
Taglist
@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346 @moistblobfish @justarandomreaderxoxo
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dangerpronebuddie · 9 hours
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WIP Wednesday!!
Tagged by @tizniz @inell @exhuastedpigeon who all shared WONDERFUL stuff y'all should absolutely show some love!! 🩵💚
Since a lot of people expressed interest in Clipboard Buck's sexuality quiz, I'm sharing some of that 😊. Haven't had a lot of time to write today, had to take pupper to the vet for his shots (he's okay! A little mad about it, but he's kinda dramatic lol). Anyway, this fic is slowly coming together. I'm hoping it won't take super long, but ya know. Have one of my favorite parts:
"So you're..." Hen trails off. She's biting back a smile that screams I knew it. "I don't know what I am," Buck shrugs. "For the longest time I thought how I felt was just... normal." "It's not abnormal," Hen assures him. She rounds the coffee table and sits on it. "That's what Maddie said," Buck sighs. "All I know is I am definitely not straight, and I want to know what I am." "You don't have to pick a label," Hen points out. "I never did," Chim says before taking another bite of celery. The entire team looks at him, varying degrees of surprise on their faces. He looks around the group. "What? I'm not straight. This can't be news to you." "I knew you were flirting with Eddie his first shift," Buck declares at the same time Hen says "it's not news." Eddie raises his eyebrows and grins at Chim, who honest to God blushes. "I was being friendly," Chim insists. "You were being a possessive golden retriever trying to mark your territory, I... didn't want him to feel unwelcome, that's all." "Aw, thanks, Chim," Eddie says, patting his knee. "Or was it Asian Fabio?" Chim shoves at him. The force throws Chim off balance and he falls against Eddie's side, knocking him into Buck, who half collapses across the couch like a line of ridiculous dominos. Hen cackles and Bobby scrubs his hands over his face with a long suffering sigh. By some miracle, their coffees- and Chim's celery and peanut butter- escape the mess unscathed. Chim scrabbles up and takes a seat beside Hen on the coffee table, glaring at Eddie like all that was his fault. Eddie sits up and takes Buck's hand, pulling him upright. "Oh, so you help Buck but not the guy who wasn't afraid to flirt with you?" Chim balks. "I've always been the favorite," Buck says with a cheeky grin, knocking his shoulder against Eddie's. "Before we end up calling an ambulance to our own firehouse," Bobby says, "have you thought any about the label you might want?" Buck sighs, his shoulders dropping. "I've tried. It's all really confusing and I've read articles about each one that might apply to me until the screen went blurry." "Why don't you do one of those quizzes they used to put in magazines?" Bobby suggests.
(tags under the cut. As always, please let me know if you want to be added/ removed):
@13shadesofanni @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @loveyouanyway
@ronordmann @steadfastsaturnsrings @daffi-990 @kitteneddiediaz
@spagheddiediaz @hippolotamus @diazsdimples @thekristen999
@actuallyitsellie @fortheloveofbuddie @wildlife4life @theotherbuckley
@rainbow-nerdss @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove
@lunarspark-cos @idealuk @shipperqueen6 @slowlyfoggydestiny
@misshiss727 @likeamollusconarock @lin27 @jshadow01 @orangeboxfox92
@smallandalmosthonest @thegeekcompanion @emilybahu @lemotmo @awolfnamed-nyx
@kaseysgirl86-blog @darkrose6578 @totallynotagoraphobic @dandelioncasey @bibuckbuckgoose @whatsgoodinthehood22
@lady-elaine @buckley-diaz-rules @buddiedaydreamer911 @monroemary @pirate-hunter
@nonspeakingkiku @eddiedisasterdiaz @drunkandsupportiveeddie @traumabuddies @epicbuddieficrecs
@tofanasmuse and anyone else who wants to share!! 🥰🩷
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katierosefun · 5 months
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obsessed with harvey in season 7 because you think that man can’t be any more disastrous but then he’s dating his therapist and inventing a new job for his boyfriend (cough) former employee who he hired illegally the first time around and he’s stressed and having a bad time and also his abandonment issues are still kicking and screaming in the background
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mrmallard · 2 months
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I know the song Superman (It's Not Easy) by Five for Fighting is like metaphorically comparing the struggles of the narrator with that of Superman - being a figure who's expected to be seen as invincible and infallible, heavily implied to be like a new parent who wants to give their kid everything, but having struggles and anxieties that they wrestle with to provide that illusion and fill that mythical role. Yes, I am an immovable rock who will never shatter - but men weren't meant to fly with clouds between their knees. I'm more than a bird, I'm more than a plane. Even heroes have the right to bleed.
But it works so well because it's such a great portrait of Superman himself. He too is only a man. He dreams. He's bold and heroic and fantastic, but he understands the frailty of human life and he knows that he's just one guy trying his best. He's just as much the man in the song as he is the figure who the figure is comparing himself to.
He does a lot of good, but he's still Clark Kent, the man who reminisces fondly about his deceased dad. He's Clark Kent, the guy who gets along with Lois Lane and who would take both halves of the world and hold them together under the sheer magnitude of his strength if it were falling apart around her. Now, he could probably physically do that - but it's the weight of how he feels about her that matters. It's something he shares with all of us at our most idyllic selves, with the fantastical element of actually being able to make good on his promise if he needs to - but he's still Clark Kent, the man. He still worries, and regardless of his supernatural ability to help them if he absolutely needs to, he still fiercely wants the people he loves to be okay.
Everything that makes Superman special is - for the last labored lyrical reference in this Tumblr post - the special things he's looking for inside of himself. He works as the impossible figure of a hero that a person might always strive to meet, to keep his family happy and comfortable and safe while keeping up the facade, but CLARK KENT IS ALSO THE GUY. HE'S A GUY. HE'S GOT A HEART PUMPING BLOOD AND EVERYTHING THAT'S AWESOME ABOUT YOU AND ME.
So like the song is a great case study of a man trying to live up to impossible standards and become infallible, which is fallacious and impossible by the narrator's own admission due to the human flaws that are screaming to come out against his efforts to be that sort of figure, but it's an outstanding case study of Superman as the man and the myth. The pretty face beside a train and the guy who acknowledges that men like him aren't meant to fly above the clouds.
And the weight to which I feel that this song exemplifies the duality of Superman so well is only exacerbated by the 10+ years of "what if someone killed Lois Lane and Superman became a fascist", or "what if Superman actually wasn't Superman but was actually Casual Murder Is Okay Man because real people would actually Commit Mass Murder if they were Superman", in almost every significant cultural depiction of Superman.
Like yeah, Evil Superman is a cool concept. But that's all he is to most people nowadays. If Evil Superman existed, who's SO MUCH COOLER and MORE INTERESTING than 1950's NUCLEAR FAMILY BOYSCOUT SUPERMAN, how would BATMAN have to KILL HIM????? Would he drop a KRYPTONITE MOON on him?????? It feels like that's all anyone says or feels about Superman any more.
So like, the song Superman (It's Not Easy) by Five for Fighting maybe isn't meant to be a commentary on the duality of Superman. Superman is explicitly a reference point, the narrator compares his efforts and struggles with the huge feats that Superman accomplishes despite the very human doubts and shortcomings that comes with being a guy in uncharted water who's just trying to do his best - but it's not explicitly "the guy is Clark Kent". It's just a metaphor for this regular-ass dude to vent his insecurities about being a supportive figure despite his insecurities. The comparison is invited, but it's not Literally a song about Clark Kent's relationship between himself and his persona of Superman. I'd even say that this is explicitly not the case.
But viewing it as being a comment on the duality of Superman, it's still one of the most cohesive and straightforward depictions of the guy in the last 20-ish years. It is a superb fucking song.
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ttsukiimi · 2 months
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❛ A CONCUBINE’S DUTY! ❜
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୨୧⋆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬  ⎯ What you didn't expect was for the king of curses to place you on his throne and drop to the ground. Sukuna grinned mischievously up at you. "You're the first I've kneeled before. You should revel in that."
୨୧⋆ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬  ⎯ trueform!sukuna x fem!reader, smut (mdni), fingering, implied size differece, overstimulation, slight choking, slight nipple play, sukuna uses a tongue on his hand, multiple orgasms, reader passes out for some minutes, oral (female receiving), sukuna referred to as lord, reader referred to as (woman)
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Your legs seemed to tremble under you with each nervous step you took, threatening to give out under the weight of unease settling into you. And there was no denying it, after weeks of your initial arrival, Sukuna had finally summoned you--though your heart felt heavy and skittish in your chest.
Some have described him as immoral, wicked...malevolent even. How would he treat you? A lowly concubine, not to mention he had countless others.
In the midst of your thinking, you failed to notice you had arrived to his chamber. You opened the door and met with the sight of Sukuna, sat on his throne and deliciously manspread.
His eyes lit up as he saw you, interested, his mind already racing with thoughts of what he'd do to you.
Quickly, you bowed to the ground, your ears perking at the unusual sound of his deep yet rich laughter.
"How amusing. Up," he ordered, and you complied. You awkwardly stood at the foot of his throne, your neck craning up just to have a look at him, and though you felt so small, as if you were prey, you slowly began to admire him. It's the first time you've seen him this up close, and you’re not afraid to say that he’s devilishly handsome.
Sukuna patted his thigh, now your personal seat, and you sat. “You seem uptight.” He rasped in your ear, his upper hands fondling with your chest while his lower held you in place. “Let's fix that.”
And after came the sound of your top being ripped to shreds, a gasp leaving your parted lips as he began to play with your nipples. You failed to stifle the moans that poured out of your mouth, embarrassed as he hadn’t even really done anything yet.
He noticed this and grinned. “I think I’ll enjoy you,”
One of his hands snaked down to the innermost part of your thigh, his long fingers swiping up and down your sopping folds, collecting your slick. Sukuna inwardly groaned at the wet feeling and pushed a finger into your hole, gritting his teeth in resistance at how tightly you clamped around his digit.
"Fuck, don't think I'll fit." he sighed smugly, adding another and beginning to slowly move them and out. "But I think you can take it, can't you?"
You nodded. That was all you wanted in the moment--the hard cock you could feel rising under your ass--but you knew not to speak until spoken to. Your hands moved on their own to his lap and palmed his erection, an amused look blooming on his face.
Sukuna removed his finger from your cunt and shoved them into your mouth, reaching your throat and causing you to choke. "You don't have permission to touch me yet, woman" he hummed. "But I guarantee your pussy will determine if you get to or not."
Tears welled down your cheeks as you gasped for air, chest heaving, and your heart rate only skyrocketed as you felt the tip of his cock lined up to your entrance.
He thrust himself in, not giving you any time to adjust to his abnormally huge size. Sukuna sucked his teeth--just as he thought--you were too tight for him to move.
"Relax some," his voice boomed in your ear, and you tried your best to do so. But he was impatient, dying to feel you sucking around him, and began fucking up into you soon after.
Sukuna had this...thing of his. He was known for 'sometimes' being too rough on his concubines, leaving them unable to walk and passed out after he was done--but those were for his pure amusement. This time, he thinks, he won't be able to hold himself back from breaking you.
Your moans echoed throughout the spacious room, eyes closing shut in a mix of pain and pleasure. "Lord Sukuna!" you mewled, feeling wetness slide down your thighs, trembling as the intrusion of his cock left your back arched in pleasure.
"Tch. I don't remember giving you permission to talk either." he gritted his teeth, a hand cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look up him. Sukuna held eye contact with you, occasionally breaking the contact to stare at the way your tits bounced as he fucked you.
He felt so deep, reaching the spots you didn't know could even be touched, his tip brushing past your sweet spot every so often. And you felt so overstimulated, quivering in his hold, but Sukuna's hand slid down to your thighs once more, and there was suddenly a tongue lapping at your pussy.
You had forgotten he could do that.
"mmf--!" you were cut off by a hand squeezing your throat. Your orgasm came crashing down onto you, swooping you off your feet and it had you seeing stars as you came on his cock.
Though, until he was done, nothing was done. You came two more times until he finally pulled out, spurting his hot seed on your tits and face, admiring his work after.
What you didn't expect was for the king of curses to place you on his throne and drop to the ground. Sukuna grinned mischievously up at you.
"You're the first I've kneeled before. You should revel in that." he spoke before he began to eat you out, slurping at your wetness and sucking on your puffy, red clit. Something in him was enjoying this a bit too much.
He watched you break down in front of him, trembling, trying your best to keep your eyes and legs open for the man under you, but by your sixth you were spent, unable to control your limp limbs anymore.
Sukuna's face covered in slick was the last thing you saw before your vision dotted black, and you were out. When you finally came to, you weren't in your room, and by the way his cum still dripped from your body, you could tell it wasn't long after you passed out.
Your vision darted around; the lavish bed you woke up on, the intricate details everywhere--it couldn't be.
But a door opened and there was Sukuna, a towel hung loosely over his hips, his blush pink hair wet and dripping onto his skin. He walked towards you, drying his hair before he sat down on the opposite side of the bed. "You'll be sleeping here from now on."
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sinofwriting · 2 months
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I ❤️ MILFS - Max Verstappen
Words: 9,747 Summary: Max wasn’t too sure who the woman was that was always with Logan, but he was sure that he wanted to get to know her. Note(s): Sargeant Reader, Age Gap, Older!Reader, Logan and Oscar are both 20 during the 2023 season, not 22. The 2023 driver standings are different (I am giving Logan the season he should have had). Reader has the nickname Pan (short for momma panther). Logan is sweetheart, Max is head over heels in love. I’m gonna be honest I never thought this fic would get written or finished. I got the idea for it back in December but only started writing it on March 16th. And it would have never happened without @burningcupcakefire & @pucksandpower. Thank you both so much for all your help. (also if anyone wants to see more of Max and Pan, let me know)
Taglist | Masterlist | Emergency Dental Fund
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Max remembers the announcement of Oscar’s arrival to F1, the drama and hilarity of it. Sometimes he sees the kids name and has to stop himself from laughing. No nineteen-year-old had any business being that funny.
Max doesn’t remember much of Logan’s announcement to F1. Only that he was young as well, being the first American in forever, and Williams' quick admission that they hadn’t wanted to sign, had wanted to wait another year.
He wishes now that he had paid more attention.
There’s a woman standing in the William’s garage, on Logan’s side. She’s clearly there for him, with the similar pass that his trainer has around her neck, and the way her eyes intently follow Logan’s movements around the garage as he talks to the mechanics and engineers.
She also happens to be the most beautiful woman Max has ever seen.
She can’t help but clutch at Benny’s arm the whole race, terror gripping her along with pride.
Benny chuckles when the race comes to an end, Logan doing his cooldown lap and she finally lets go. “And just think you’ve got over twenty more races of this.” Her nose wrinkle and a hand goes over her heart that’s thudding. “Please, Benny.” He chuckles again but pats her shoulder. “You’ve got this.” “Not gonna tell me it gets easier?” He snorts. “No. This is far worse than F2 or F3 and we still were both scared watching him out there. We’ll never know a day of peace now.”
She sighs, watching the screens as it shows the top three getting interviewed and in the background you can see some of the drivers getting weighed. “He’s going to be sore and in pain.” It makes something clench inside her, the knowledge that Logan would be in pain. It was part of the job, the aches and the bruises, but it didn’t make it any easier for her to know. “I’ve already got everything set up as soon as he’s back and debriefs are done.”
Her eyes catch on the screen showing where all the drivers placed and tears prick her eyes and she shakes her head. “Twelfth in his first grand prix. I can’t believe it.”
The garage is filled with chatter as the team celebrates getting their first points of the season and their rookie driver performing better than they expected. The way they don’t even try to whisper it makes her jaw twitch. She was grateful that Williams was giving Logan his dream, but she didn’t like how they were going about it. Quickly and publicly stating that they didn’t want to sign Logan yet, wanted to wait a year. And now this.
A light nudge to her ribs makes her unclench her jaw and she gives Benny a grateful smile.
Both of their attention is quickly drawn however to the two Williams drivers entering the garage, the space filling with cheers.
She smiles as Logan grins at the team, basking in the smiles they have on their faces for him and Alex, the pats on the back he’s getting. The grin turns to a beam when he spots Benny and her and he quickly bounces over to them.
A laugh leaves her at the way Benny pulls him into a bear hug, lifting him off his feet a little. “Proud of you, kid.” He murmurs. She can’t hear what Logan says, but he’s put down and it’s her turn.
She wants to bundle him up in her arms, hold him and not let go, but doesn’t want to embarrass him in front of his team, so she raises a hand and pushes his hair out of his face. “You did amazing, baby.” He smiles at her, all bright and shiny eyes and then he’s wrapping his arms around her, hugging her tight and she’s quick to return it, rubbing his back. “You did so good, Logan. So good. I’m so proud.” She tells him again, pressing a kiss to his sweaty head. “Thank you, momma.” He tells her, hugging her tight for another moment before letting her go. She smiles up at him and god, that makes her heart ache. Her son, her baby, taller than her somehow. She woke up some days and still wasn’t sure where the time had gone and how he was taller than her shoulders. “Go shower and debrief and then Benny and me will take care of you, yeah? And I’ll get your favorite ordered to the hotel, ready as soon as you get there.” He beams at her again, darting forward to press a quick to her cheek before starting to rush away. “Best mom ever!” He calls over his shoulder and she laughs.
Y/N Sargeant will never forget the first time she held her son, only then at nine years old, he had been her cousin.
Logan was small, wrinkly, pink skin, and full of small cries. She could remember staring at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to understand how he could be what her baby dolls were made to be like. She remembers her mama having her sit on the couch after asking her if she wanted to hold him and how she had quickly nodded, hoping that maybe holding him would somehow make him look better.
She remembers the sudden nerves that built in her stomach as her mama started to hand him to her. Remembers being scared that she would drop him, remembers thinking how stupid it would be if he was still weird to look at like this.
And she remembers finally holding that and it disappearing. His small cries, no more, his  wriggling calmed down, and his wrinkles no longer looked weird but cute. She remembers holding him for the first time and feeling unconditional love for the first time in her life.
She’s twelve when she realizes that her uncle and aunt don’t like Logan much. It didn’t make sense to her then, still doesn’t know. Because they liked Dalton just fine, but not Logan.
She remembers asking her dad about it. Asking him why they didn’t love Logan, but loved Dalton and worse, she remembers the pained look in his eyes as he realizes that his child picked up on what he and his wife had as well.
It’s the first hard adult conversation she has with her parents and it’s fitting that it’s about Logan, as they sit her down and talk to her about how not all parents love their kids, and how sometimes that includes them only loving one child and not the other.
She remembers clearly the first time Logan calls her mom.
It’s her fourteenth birthday and she’s got the four-year-old in her lap as she sits in a rocking chair, reading her English essay aloud for him. Logan’s eyes are closed, head resting on her chest, over her heart, and his little fingers of his one hand are curled in her shirt right by his head.
She wants to sit there forever, reading to him as she rocks back and forth. But she wants another slice of cake before Martha puts it away and Logan needs to sleep in his bed where he can stretch out fully and drool on his pillowcases and not her shirt that Martha will surely tut over but then smile fondly when she sees Logan doing it all over again.
Setting the essay down on her dresser, she runs her now free fingers through his blond hair. “C’mon Logan, time for bed.” He grumbles, fingers tightening on her shirt and she can feel it being pulled slightly. “You can put on your new race car jammies, cuddle with Ello.” He shakes his head, squirming a bit in her lap as he tries to shove himself closer. “Stay with you.” “Oh, baby.” She whispers, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Y’know I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.” His head shakes again and she has to bite her lip as his head hits her collarbone. “Want cuddles, momma.” Her heart thuds painfully in her chest at the name he called her, tears pricking her eyes. “Okay, baby. Let's get you in jammies, grab Ello, and you can stay with me tonight.”
She’s only been eighteen for ten hours when she asks her father for the near impossible.
“I want custody of Logan. I want to adopt him. And I need your help to make that happen.” He stares at her, no expression on his face, not even shock. “He’s,” She pauses, jaw twitching and tears springing to her eyes. “He wants to do karting, just like Dalton. And he’s good at it. I’ve taken him. They told him no. They haven’t bought him clothes in two years. They don’t know a single thing about his school, his grades, his teachers. He hasn’t called David dad since he was six and he hasn’t called Madelyn mom since he was four.” Her hands are formed into fists, nails digging into her palms as she speaks. “I have money, I can provide for him. I’ve got my shares of the company now and I’ve got my inheritance from Grandma Talls. But I know that a judge won’t sign off without some influence.” “Madelyn and Daniel?” She leans forward in her seat, a spark of hope filling her. “I already talked to them, they’ll do it.” One of his hands comes up to rub at his mouth, sighing. Then it drops to open up one of his desk drawers and he’s pulling out a bunch of papers, dropping them on the desk in front of her.
“I figured this was gonna happen and I knew after you talked to them and they called me. They signed away their rights three hours ago. Michael and Lily are waiting outside to come in so you can sign the papers.” Tears slipped from her eyes, joy wrapping itself around her entire being from his words, the fact that he called their family lawyer to be on standby, that he and her mother were so supportive. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” He smiles at her. “I couldn’t say no to you. Not when it comes to Logan. I’m way too young to have a grandkid, let alone one that’s eight, but I made my peace with that years ago.” “Thank you.”
Max watches the free practice session coverage intently as they focus on the Williams garage, nose wrinkling when they focus on Logan’s trainer, Benny and then James Vowles. Could it really be possible that they never once caught a shot of her? He starts to get a sinking feeling in his stomach that he's gonna have to go on Twitter when the camera moves and suddenly she’s there and he’s scrambling for the tv remote, pressing the pause button just before the camera switches to an overhead shot of the Bahrain track.
His heart skips a beat as he gets his first good luck at her. Her pretty eyes and smile. His eyes then travel down, wanting to know her name and his heart drops.
Y/N Sargeant, Mother of Logan Sargeant.
Fuck.
“Momma Panther!” Oscar greets to the confusion of other drivers as Logan and a woman enter the room.
Lando’s eyebrows are raised as he watches Oscar stand. Watching as his teammate claps Logan on the back, before giving him an actual hug. Before he then hugs the woman as well, whispering something to her that makes her laugh.
Pulling away from her, Oscar grins when her hand comes up to pat his cheek for a second. “Thank you for the invite, Os.” “Of course.” He sends a fond look to Logan, who's standing awkwardly by the table. “Y’know Logan and you are always welcome.” She makes a humming noise. “C’mon, let me introduce you to everyone.”
Turning around, he smirks at the table. “Everyone, Logan.” Charles lets out a laugh, as the others chuckle. He gestures to her, “This is Momma Panther or Pan.” “Y/N or Pan.” She corrects, playfully shaking her finger at Oscar. “I only let the F2 boys call me Momma Pan.” He sighs. “Okay, this is Y/N. Logan’s mom.”
Lando coughs, water going down the wrong pipe. Fernando’s eyes are wide as he looks at her. Charles, George, and Alex are all nodding. Max has a weird expression on his face and Carlos looks dumbfounded.
“She,” Carlos points at her. “Is his,” he points at Logan. “Mother?” Logan moves away from the table to stand by his mom, easily melting into her side at all the attention. The action makes Oscar smile, all too used to the easy affection between the mother and son. “I got pretty lucky right?” She shakes her head. “I’m just happy you weren’t a difficult child.” Logan both blushes and preens at the same time. Carlos shakes his head, disbelief still clear.
“Please, sit.” George says after a moment. “We haven’t ordered yet.”
The seasoned drivers and her watch amused as both Oscar and Logan usher her to sit first. Oscar easily then lets Logan sit next before sitting beside the American. The two of them sharing a grin after.
It makes her shake her head as she turns her attention to the menu, tuning out the sound of conversation picking back up.
The gentle sound of a throat clearing makes her glance to her left.
The current two time world champion smiles a bit awkwardly at her. “Have you been here before?” She shakes her head, turning her head a bit to look at him better. “No. To Australia of course, for Logan’s races and to visit Oscar once, but not here.” He nods and she can’t help but notice the way he swallows harshly. “We started coming here in 2021, it’s good food. Good drinks.” She laughs, “good gin and tonic?” He flushes a little, but laughs. “Yes. Very good. Heavy on the gin.” She nods, “I think I’ll have one of those then.”
Her eyes drift back to the menu, not even wincing at the prices next to the dishes. This was nearly cheap compared to where she had been forced to eat growing up.
“Momma, can we,” “Yes.” She answers before Logan finishes, already knowing what he’s asking. “Also you two, no hard liquor. We have plans tomorrow.” She continues, still looking at the menu.
They wouldn’t get drunk from a few drinks, but she had a feeling that Lando would try to instigate something again with Oscar, making the poor kid so drunk he could barely walk, again. And she didn’t mind people thinking that she was overbearing with Logan and even Oscar. The boys knew that if they really wanted to do something they could, even if she said otherwise. It was one of the nice things about being an adult.
Logan wrinkles his nose, glancing at the drinks part of the menu, before grinning. “They have it.” Oscar glances at what he’s pointing at, shaking his head. “You and your goddamn obsession.” “We come here like once a year.” Logan defends. “And no other country sells it.”
It’s not until after the server leaves, all of their orders taken, that conversation starts again.
“So, Mrs. Sargeant,” Lando starts. “Just Y/N or even Pan.” She sends a fond look to Oscar who had made that nickname stick. “And I’m not married.” She says, amused. “Ah.” “Not married.” Fernando shakes his head. “Now that doesn’t sound right.” She looks at him amused. “Don’t believe in premarital sex?” She teases. The older driver laughs and so do the others. “No. Just hard to believe that you aren’t married. You are a very gorgeous woman.” “Thank you.”
“So,” Lando starts again, giving Max a weird look seeing how his friend is gripping his glass of water. “Will you be coming to all the races?” She nods. “Yes, I have since Logan started his career. Haven’t missed one.” Logan shakes his head, grinning at her. “Nope, not one.” “Your work allows you to do that?” Her lips press together for a second to try and hide her smile at the gentle but obvious fishing they are doing. “I have shares in some companies and a very generous inheritance. So, no true, real work.” “You do some work for Grandpa when we’re in the states.” “I organize his desk for him, which he then messes up as soon as he sits back down at it.”
“You do not mind the constant travel? It is quite tiring.” Charles asks, curious. “No. And once I got Logan in karting, I promised him that I’d make it to all of his races. Maybe in a few years, I’ll stop going to all of them, but I am part of his team as well.” “Manager?” “God, no.” She shakes her head at Carlos’ assumption. “Cook slash nutritionist. Benny, his trainer is amazing, also doubles at being a physiotherapist for Logan, but he doesn’t know how to cook to save his life. So I make their meals.” “Mine as well.” Alex pipes in. “They’re truly amazing, by the way.” “Of course.” “Can you make mine again?” Oscar asks, leaning over Logan a bit to look at her. “I’ve missed having them.” “Sure.” She laughs. “Get me your new sheets before the next race, yeah?” “Done.”
Max watches from the corner of his eyes as she takes her first sip of her gin and tonic. Her brows raise a bit when the drink hits her tongue and he has to force his eyes up, to not focus in on her lips, to think about them and what they’d feel like on, he shakes his head. Forcing the thoughts, the ideas away.
“Very heavy on the gin.” She whispers, turning a bit to look at him. He rubs his hands against his jeans. “Do you like it?” “It’s nice.” She smiles. Relief fills him. “Good.”
He continues to look at her, wanting to tear his eyes away but being unable to. She was simply lovely. And getting this closer look at her, he can’t believe that she’s a mother, or at least a mother to a twenty-year-old. It didn’t seem possible. She looked barely older than him. Not at least thirty-five. She was probably more like Fernando’s age as well and he glances at the fellow two world champion, more disbelief filling him. Because how could the two be close in age at all?
Logan sighs as he collapses face first onto Oscar’s bed. Laying there for a solid minute before groaning and turning his head.
“Dinner was nice.” Oscar hums and he can feel the bed dip beside him. “You seemed a bit more relaxed.” “No media, and you and Pan were there. A bit more relaxed.” Logan scoffs. “Yeah, because you were so tense with media before.” As he speaks, he reaches out to lay a hand on Oscar’s thigh, giving the muscle a squeeze. “It’s nuts, isn’t it? I mean we all got told that the media was so much more, so different, but…” He trails off, shaking his head. “Yeah.” Oscar sighs and then he’s laying beside Logan, the American luckily moving his hand off and away from the other’s thigh before he lies on it.
“Y’know I have no personality, apparently.” Logan snorts, eyes opening when he hadn’t even realized he had closed him. The Australian driver also has his head turned so they’re looking at each other. “What? Have they never seen a Prema video?” He shrugs as best as he can. “I’d take that over my apparent frat boyness.” “You? A frat boy?” Oscar laughs. Logan sighs as he thinks a bit more about it, the mood turning a bit serious. “I just hope momma hasn’t seen it.” “What happened?” “She’s just worried. Thinks I haven’t noticed, but she’s wondering if she did a good job with me, done enough for me. And she’s given me everything y’know. I can’t imagine what I’d be like with them as my parents.” Oscar moves a bit closer, just a few inches between their faces now. “You’d still be amazing, still great. Maybe a frat boy.” The American rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.
“I think Fernando has a thing for her. For Pan.” He clarifies. “What?” “I mean, just during the dinner y’know, he kept looking at her. And him calling her gorgeous.” “Well, he’d be dumb and blind to not notice that.” Logan scoffs, rolling onto his back and turning his head to the side, keeping his eyes on Oscar. “I’m being serious.” The younger laughs, poking him lightly. “I think Alonso has a thing for her.” Logan’s face scrunches up in disgust. “Dude, no. That’s gross. Momma isn’t even thirty and Fernando’s like forty-three. And isn’t he dating that journalist?” Oscar’s brows press together. “What journalist?” “The one that gave Fred shit.” “I thought she died?” The two look at each other, both baffled.
Logan thinks again of the journalist he’s seen around Fernando and the one that all of the Prema drivers, former and at the time current, had avoided or given shit statements too. They did look a bit different now that he really thought about it. Fernando’s journalist slash girlfriend didn’t have a fucking complex.
“Different journo.” Logan mutters. He then blinks, “wait, she died?” “Mate, you didn’t hear about that?” “No!” “She was supposed to be at Spa, remember. And we all were relieved when she wasn’t there. She died, car crash or something, I can’t remember.” “How do I not remember this?” Oscar shrugs as best as he can while laying down. “I don’t know.”
It’s silent for a moment, “you don’t think,” “No.” Oscar shakes his head, but he doesn’t sound too sure. “I mean, yeah no.” “Right.” He looks up at the ceiling.
“Okay, so Fernando is out of the running.” Logan groans, “Os, no.” “Look he clearly has eyes, but if he’s dating someone he’s out. He wasn’t the only one looking.” “Oscar, please, it’s my mom.” “She’s like my mom too, which is why we have to talk about this.” Oscar insists, wriggling closer to Logan. Their sides completely pressed together and when Logan turns his head to look at the other, their noses nearly brush. He looks at Oscar’s face, all earnest and caring and sighs. “Fine. Charles was looking, but he only dates one type, so safe from him.” “Lando was looking.” Logan snorts, “I thought this was for potential dates, not another kid.” He laughs, their noses brushing together from the movement. “Okay, no Lando. Max.” “He kind of looked weird when you introduced her.” He frowns. “I saw that too.” “But he also got all blushy when they talked.”
“The drivers do know, I mean Alex knows that she didn’t like birth you, right?” Logan’s frown deepens. “Of course. I mean, it’s not super well known, but it’s a little hard to believe that she naturally had a kid twenty years ago.” “Thought so.” Oscar then chuckles. “Imagine, them thinking that she did, though. Just thinking she’s got some sort of insane skin care routine.”
“How in the hell does she look like that with a twenty-year-old kid?” “I know right?” Alex says, looking at Carlos. “It’s insane.” Charles pokes at his own cheek. “I think I need to ask her for advice, what products she uses. I want to age like her.” “We all want to age like her.” George agrees. “What are you saying?” Fernando frowns. A few of them share a look, but Charles and Max share a different one. “Mate, you’ve got wrinkles and all these lines.” Max says. “I mean those are natural, but look at her. The skincare helps.” Fernando frowns, “Lines?” Charles touches at his own lines, “see lines. From smiling, laughing, frowning. All good things, very nice. Just not uh,” his brows furrow drawing a blank. Lando snorts at his struggle. “You just want to help your skin. Keep it healthy.” The older driver makes a humming noise, considering.
Her breath is caught in her throat, eyes wide as she watches the screen. Her heart feels like it is beating in double time. She wants to look away, doesn’t want to watch in case something horrible happens, but she can’t. Because Logan just overtook both Magnussen and Ocon in the same lap. Logan is in 9th. Logan is in a point scoring position with only five laps of the race left. Logan might score his first formula 1 points at his home race, at his actual home race, at his first ever home race.
Her hands are shaking, fingers locked together as she presses them against her mouth, trying to breathe, praying that Logan won’t fall back out of the points.
She doesn’t even notice that he’s lessened that gap to Pierre until suddenly he’s overtaken the other French driver, just three laps later. “Oh my god.” “Fuck.” “Benny,” she whispers, and one of her hands is dropping so she can clutch at the older man. “Benny, I think,” “He’s gonna do it.”
And sure enough he does it. Logan holds his place in front of Pierre and finishes in 8th.
“Yes!” The whole garage is cheering and she’s wrapping her arms around Benny, laughing when the trainer lifts her. “He did it! He did it!” She cheers. The garage quiets though as Gaetan starts to speak on the radio.
“Logan, you are on your cooldown lap.” “Got it. Where’s Alex?” She winces at the question, one of her hands grips at Benny’s shoulder as he sets her back down, the other holding onto her headphones that miraculously didn’t get thrown off her head or disconnected when celebrating. “Alex is P14, P14.” It’s quiet for a moment. “Okay, I’m sorry we didn’t get any points today, next race is ours right? The car felt great.” Both of her hands fly up to her mouth. “Logan.” Gaetan’s voice is full of disbelief and laughter. “Mate, you finished P8. You got us points. You got your first points.” She can see him react to the news, the car jerking underneath him for a second, before he wrangles it back under control. “What? What do you mean?” “You finished in P8. Clean race, finished ahead of both Alpines and Magnussen.” “Holy fuck.” The garage fills with laughter at his reaction and tears start to build in her eyes. “You guys,” his voice breaks. “Thank you guys so much. This was you guys, the car felt great, really.” She watches as James hops on the radio. “This was you as well, Logan. Amazing drive today.” “Thank you, James. Thank you so much for this.”
His mechanics, Benny and her, quickly go over to where the cars are parking, watching as Logan slots it into place. He’s a little shaky as he gets out of the car and he’s about to dart towards them but someone from the FIA, is ushering him to the scale.
His reluctance is clear even with his helmet on, but he goes. Letting them take his weight and as soon as it’s written down, he’s stepping off and away, fumbling with his gloves and then his helmet.
There’s an awed grin on his face, tears in his eyes, and seeing it makes the tears that have built in her own fall.
His gloves and helmet tumble to the ground as his mechanics and Benny surround him, celebrating his points.
Logan laughs when they finally let them go and his eyes light up when he sees her and he darts to her and she easily welcomes him into her arms.
“I’m so proud of you.” She tells him, squeezing his sweaty body close before running a hand through his hair. “You did amazing.” “I did it, momma.” His voice is weak and she can feel tears hit the skin of her neck where his head is buried. “You did it.”
“Logan did amazing, it was a good drive.” She blinks in surprise at the voice, turning in her barstool to look. “Max?” He smiles at her, cheeks flushed. “He did really well.” “He did.” She agrees before patting the stool next to her. His smile widens as he takes the seat. “I didn’t realize that Red Bull was in the same hotel.” Maybe she should have since she had spotted a few Red Bull polos, but she figured it was fan gear. “I think Aston is here as well. You aren’t celebrating with Logan?” She shakes her head. “We already celebrated. Him, Oscar, and a bunch of his friends here are throwing a party. I wasn’t really interested in watching them all get wasted, so this,” she gestures to the hotel bar, “is me having a drink to celebrate before going up to my room and ordering some room service.” “Could I join you?” His cheeks redden at the words, at the way her eyebrows raise. “Not like that. But for food? I’ve never actually eaten anywhere in Miami that wasn’t catering.” She stares at him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. And I have the perfect place to take you.”
“Did I actually score points yesterday?” “You did.” “Sweet.” “Very. How’s the head?” Logan shrugs, “I mean, I drank a lot, but like I’m just dehydrated.” She shakes her head, “That will change in a few years.” “Not gonna tell me to not drink underage?” He teases, bending down to press a kiss to her cheek before grabbing her glass of juice and draining it. She snorts. “We’re in Europe most of the time and I gave you your first drink. I don’t think I have a leg to stand on. And you were celebrating.” “True.”
He sits across from her, refilling the glass and taking another drink from it before setting it down and starting to help himself to her pancakes, which she just pushes closer to him. “How was your night? You could have joined us. We wouldn’t of minded.” “I’m your mom, Logan.” She laughs. “I think the me going to your friend's parties ship sailed a few years ago.” “Yeah, but you're awesome. We like having you around.” “I know.” She smiles. “I wasn’t in the mood to watch all of you get wasted.” “Fair.” he says around a bite of pancake, which she sends him a look for and he quickly swallows the food. Giving her a smile that says sorry.
“So, how was your night?” “It was good.” She tells him, spearing a piece of fruit with her other fork. “I came back to the hotel, had a drink, and then got dinner with Max.” His brows press together. “Max?” “Verstappen.” She clarifies. “Red Bull is staying here as well, he saw me at the hotel bar and asked if he could join me for some food.”
“You went on a date?” Her eyes narrow at him. “It wasn't a date.” “You went on a date.” He scrambles for his phone. “Oscar is never gonna believe it.” “I go on dates.” “Momma, you’ve gone on like five dates. And two of those were before you turned eighteen.” She scowls at him. “It wasn’t a date. We just got dinner.” She insists. “Uh huh.” He says, clearly not believing her. “Did he pay?” “Yes.” “Pull your chair out, help you with your coat, anything like that?” Her mind flashes back to Max helping her get out of his car, his insistence on opening doors for her. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean,” Logan continues. “Did he walk you to your hotel room? Say that he had a good time and he’d like to do it again?” “Oh.” Logan grins at her, smug, as he finishes typing out a text to Oscar. “You went on a date last night.” “I went on a date last night.” And she doesn’t mention the fact that a new number resides in her phone.
“Logan!” He stops at the sound of his name, turning to look behind him, where Max Verstappen is nearly jogging to catch up with him. “Max.” He greets, when the older driver is next to him, nerves filling him at the eyes of said driver on him, along with how a few other drivers are also looking at the pair, shock and surprise clear on their faces. “Hey.” Max grins. “How are you feeling about the track?” He looks at the older driver in confusion. They had just left the drivers briefing, why was he asking him this? Alex had already spoken about how the team was feeling about Monaco. “The car won’t be the best here, but we said that in Miami, so we’re hoping to repeat that here. Alex has a good chance at ending in a point scoring position.” He reiterates what he's been told and what he’s been telling the press. “But how are you feeling about it?” Logan stares at the Dutchman, eyes flickering around trying to see if cameras are there, if his momma is there, but there isn’t anyone. The other drivers are already gone, so are the FIA people. It’s just him and Max. “Y’know you don’t have to talk to me because you went out with my mom.” He expects relief, like that one dick Jase, and really who puts that on a birth certificate, but Max just frowns. “I know, I don’t have to.” Logan swallows around the lump in his throat, “right.” Turning around, he starts to walk, somehow knowing that the other driver will join him. “It’s a tricky track, it’s Monaco. I was here last year and I barely got in the points.” “P10 and P9.” He throws the driver a look, because that was too much to know, but Max is just looking at him, encouraging him to continue. “The car isn’t suited for it. I mean it wasn’t for Miami, but this is different. And I’m still not managing my tyres correctly, so even if I did manage to gain positions, I’d get called in to pit and lose them.” Max huffs out a laugh. “You are a rookie in a Williams, it’s impressive that you’ve already gotten points. If you could manage your tyres, when sometimes even I struggle, well I’d put you in Checo’s seat.” “Not yours?” He laughs again, “No. I’m a bit better at it than Checo.” Logan couldn’t really deny that.
“Do you want some advice? On the tyres?” Logan quickly nods. “I’ll take anything I can get.” “Don’t fight the car too much on the turns. If you need to get it to turn properly or without going on the brakes too soon, fight it. But when you don’t, let the car be stable, keep it fluid. When you come out of the corner, press harder. It might feel like you’ll go into the wall, but you won’t.” “And if I go into the wall?” Max laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. “I think you're a better driver than that mate.”
“How are you doing that in the turns?” Logan looks up from his notebook, where he’d been scribbling a bunch of random words. Looking at the screen, he watches his own onboard. He thinks about saying that it was Max that told, but no one at Williams liked hearing about Red Bull, especially with Alex in the room. “Just something I thought I’d try.” “Well, it was good, continue doing it. We may have ended up out of the points, but we got close.” Logan nods. Even with his five-second penalty, he had still kept fourteenth, and Alex ended up in twelfth. “Will do.”
Max had thought about her in his apartment a lot, an embarrassing amount. He had also pictured it very differently. A nice dinner, wine, even though a majority of it made his nose wrinkle, perhaps some kissing on his couch as a movie plays that they both don’t care about.
He hadn’t expected lunch, with juice that he’s trying to figure out how he’s never had it when he’s lived in Monaco for so many years, and a somewhat serious conversation, though maybe he has been expecting that one or rather anticipating it.
“I like you, Max.” He flushes, “I like you too.” He really did, even though his mother was going to have a heart attack when she found out how much older Pan was than him. “And I want to continue doing this.” She gestures between them with her free hand that isn’t being held in his. “So,” sensing that there’s something she wants to say. “I’m a mom.” He blinks at her words, panic starting to fill him. He thought he’d made that clear that he knew that, understood that. He always made sure to ask about Logan. He even had Logan’s number now after talking to him about how he felt about the Monaco track. “I know.” “Logan is important to me.” Oh, god, did Logan not like him? “The most important thing to me. And if we're going to continue to do this, I just need you to know that. He’s always going to be my first priority.” “Of course.” Relief fills him, his heart slows from its frantic beating. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” She stares at him, trying to gauge how truthful he’s being before nodding. “Okay.”
“Did you think that I didn’t know that?” She shakes her head immediately. “No, it’s just. I don’t really do this.” She laughs. “Dating, relationships. Logan pointed that out to me, so I don’t really know how this goes and I just had to make it clear, put it on the table now.” “I don’t really do this either.” He hesitates to ask his next question, but does. “Logan’s father. What was your relationship with him like?” Her face screws up in disgust. “Ew.” He laughs, not expecting that reply or that word to sum up a relationship. But fair enough.
“I mean the idea of a relationship between me and Logan’s father is gross. Logan’s,” she pauses, seeming to settle on a different word. “Birth parents are my aunt and uncle.” “His what?” He could have sworn she said birth parents, but that couldn’t be right. “His birth parents.” She looks at him, concerned. “I adopted Logan when I turned eighteen. Did you think I gave birth to him?” “No.” He says, shaking head and clearing his throat. “Of course not.” She stares at him, lips pressed together. He sighs, slumping in his seat, eyes closing. “I may or may not have thought you were just a really, really young looking forty-something year old woman.” She immediately bursts into laughter and his eyes fly open at the sound. “You thought?” “The graphic for the race footage says you are his mother, I did not think otherwise. I just thought you looked great for your age.” He defends, a little embarrassed, but delighted by the expression on her face and her laughter that is still filling his ears. “I am his mother, just adopted.” “Not that either of you see it that way.” “No.” She shakes her head, laughing one last time before calming down.
“No. Logan’s mine, he’s been mine practically since he was born. It just wasn’t seen that way legally until I was eighteen and custody got signed over to me.” “Of course.” He then flashes her smile, “So can I ask how old you are?” She laughs, nodding. “Yes, Max. I think just this once it’s better to ask a lady her age than assume it.” “How old are you?” “I’m twenty-nine.” He looks at her with new eyes, the age making much more sense. “I would’ve said twenty-five.” “Really? I think you would’ve said forty-something.” “How was I to know?” He throws his free hand in the air at the tease, his other still holding hers.
“Hi, baby.” She greets when Logan stumbles out of his room, practically still asleep, as he drops onto the couch. “Momma.” He whines, resting his head on her lap and turning his face to press it into her stomach, trying to block out the sun. Her fingers brush through his hair as she forces her body to stay relaxed. It was always a fight when he did this.
She hated that her body didn’t bear any signs of being pregnant before, no stretch marks around her belly. She hated that she hadn’t actually gotten to carry Logan no matter how impractical it was, unless of course she was as old as Max had thought she was. She smiles at the memory of how flustered Max had looked when he realized her actual age.
He mumbles something and she turns his face away from her stomach. “What?” “How was your date last night?” Her smile widens. “It was good.” “Yeah?” She nods. “Did you see Jimmy and Sassy?” “No.” She runs her hand over his forehead, knowing that he’s thinking of Sooty. “We should talk though after you’ve had some breakfast.” “About what?” “Breakfast first.”
“What do we need to talk about?” Logan asks nearly thirty minutes later, his fruit bowl all gone and his coffee on its way to be there as well. She swallows, hands flexing. “Max.” “What about Max?” She sighs. “Well, baby, him and I talked about becoming serious last night. But that’s not gonna happen until I know how you feel.” “You know, I’m okay with it.” “I know you're okay with me dating, but this is a bit more complicated. Max is on the grid with you and we’re talking about a relationship.” Logan eyes widen a bit at the word relationship. “I mean, how does Max feel about it? About being with someone who has a kid on the grid?”
He asks knowing it will give him time to figure out how to tell her how he feels and because he wants to know, he kind of wants Max to be okay with it. He likes Max, and not just as a driver. The older driver is kind and funny, he also looks at his mom like she’s the sun, he makes her happy and that’s enough to put him in Logan’s good books. His mom deserves the best and he thinks from what little he’s seen, from how much more happy his mom has been (and god that was weird, because it wasn’t even like she wasn’t happy before) that Max might be the best for her. And Max now every time he sees Logan is always stopping to talk to him even if it’s just for a second to say a quick hi.
“Max is good with it. He knows that you're my number one and that’s never going to change.” Logan flushes at the words. “He also likes you, thinks you're a good kid.” She lets out an amused huff as the word kid leaves her mouth. It was odd to hear Max describe Logan that way, with only five years between them. But at the same time she knew it came from being practically a veteran in the sport. Max was coming up on ten years in Formula 1 despite his young age. He flushes even more. “Really?” “Yeah.” She smiles. “He always asks about you, it’s really sweet. And he knows to that if you aren’t comfortable with this or need more time then that’s what will happen.” “I am an adult.” “You are.” She was sadly well aware of that fact. “But you are my baby, my kid. I couldn’t be in a relationship with someone if you didn’t like them or if it made you uncomfortable.” He nods. “I’m okay with it. Max makes you happy, he’s nice.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.”
She lets out a giggle as arms wrap around her from behind, lips pressing against her cheek. “Hi.” “Hi.” Another kiss is pressed to her cheek. “Can I help?” She glances down at what she’s finishing up. “No. You could set the table, though?” “Done.” A kiss is pressed to her temple and then the blanket of heat that covered her back is gone. “What cabinet?” “First one entering the kitchen on the left.” She says, turning her head a bit to watch as Max pulls the dishes out.
Her mouth goes a little dry as she watches him. His t-shirt is tight around his biceps and chest. His skin is a little tanned after their date a few days ago on a friend's yacht. She forces her eyes to not look at his hands, instead trailing them up to his strong shoulders and neck and then to his face. Max, she thinks as he starts to put the plates on the table, is unfairly attractive. Before he can catch her staring, she checks on the final thing on the stove. “Perfectly done.” She mumbles with a smile.
The sound of the front door opening makes her smile grow wider as she grabs a pot holder. “Am I late?” “Just on time.” She tells Logan as he steps into the kitchen. “Can I,” She stops him before he can continue. “No, go wash up.” “Alright.” He bends a little to press a kiss to her cheek before turning on his heel, offering a wave to Max. “Hi.” “Hi, Logan.”
Picking up the pan, she shakes her head as Max goes to try and take it from her. “Logan and you are both going to get on too well.” “Why’s that?” He asks, a twinkle in his eye. “You both don’t like when I lift anything.” “What’s the point of having a son or a boyfriend, then?” Logan says, clapping Max on the shoulder as he comes back. Max grins at the younger, delighted as he claps him back. “Exactly. We feel a bit neglected.” She rolls her eyes, shaking her head, though a smile is stretching across her lips.
Max watches amused as the mother and son argue.
“Mom, it would be for two races, two, that’s it.” “One race, really.” Max chimes in, smiling when she glares at him. “Spa is nice, but Zandvoort is really what I consider my home race.” “See, it would be one race. Max wants you in his garage.” Logan says, looking at the other driver, begging for him to help but at the last sentence Max shakes his head. “I never said that. Well, I would like to see Pan in my garage, not for the whole weekend, or even a day. She’s part of your team.” Logan looks at him, bewildered. “But, it’s your home race.” He shrugs. “I’d like for her to stop by, you as well. I already have it cleared with the team. Staying for even a whole session though just doesn’t make any sense. I don’t need her on my side of the garage to know that she’s supporting me, wanting me to do well, not when you are on the grid.” “Are you sure?” Max smiles at Logan, because yes he was sure. Did he want her there, supporting him? Maybe even dressed in something with his number? Of course. But, he liked seeing her in Logan’s garage. Supporting him, wearing his merch, being a mom. “I’m more than sure.”
“Besides,” she says, drawing both of their attention. “Max and I haven’t gone public yet. Or really told anyone yet.”
“Well, this is a bit of an odd one.” Laura says as they stop in front of the Red Bull garage. The cameraman focuses on what she’s looking at. “Both Logan Sargeant and his mother, better known as Pan from Formula 2 fans, are in the Red Bull garage, currently talking with our current championship leader Max Verstappen, his engineer GP, and Daniel Ricciardo.” “Shall I see if I can steal one of them away?” Will asks, smiling at the camera as he holds the F1 TV microphone loosely. “Please.” She gestures.
Will steps towards the garage smiling at the small group hovering just inside. “Could I steal one of you for a quick minute?” The five exchange a look and Will stops himself from rolling his eyes at the way they all look annoyed at the idea, but Logan nods. “Sure.” “Thank you.”
He watches as Logan says something quietly to them, getting nods from them all. His brow furrows when Max squeezes his shoulder before the younger driver gives his mom a quick hug, making him shake his head. Logan Sargeant was an absolute mommy’s boy and it was embarrassing as all hell to see. He couldn’t imagine being twenty and hugging his mom in public, let alone all those videos and photos of him reaching for her hand.
Will ignored the part of him that did think it was sweet and felt bad for the kid. He couldn’t look all sappy while filming, especially not when in front of the Red Bull garage.
“Hi everyone.” Logan greets, taking the third mic from the newest crew member. “Hello, Logan. How are you feeling about this weekend?” He smiles at Laura. “I’m feeling okay, I’ve raced here before, obviously not in an F1 car, but I do have some experience with this track.” “And you and your mum’s visit to the Red Bull garage, should we expect an announcement of you switching teams?” She teases. “No.” He laughs. “No, uh, just visiting for personal reasons. Saying hello to Daniel, wishing Max a good home race.” “I mean, I’m not sure, he needs it.” Will jokes, gaining a few laughs. “So, no business to be done at Red Bull? Just saying a hello and wishing a good race to a fellow driver.” “Yeah,” he pauses, looking back at the garage where it’s just Max and his mom standing now watching him with smiles on their faces. It’s only that he continues when his mom gives a brief nod, one barely able to be seen by the camera. “And I wasn’t just wishing a fellow driver good luck.” “Oh?” Logan grins, looking pleased with himself. “I was wishing my new dad good luck.”
“Carlos Sainz is a cunt.” Max freezes at her words, hand still on the doorknob from just stepping into the room. “Hi, schat.” “Carlos Sainz is a cunt.” She repeats. His brain is scrambling because what exactly had Carlos done but also why was it so attractive to her say the word cunt. It had to be the accent, he decided quickly, still trying to figure out the Carlos thing. “And why is Carlos a cunt?” He finally asks, releasing the door knob and stepping further into the room.
She’s on her laptop, rapidly typing something, and he can feel anger radiating off her.
“That bullshit he spewed, blaming Oscar’s inexperience.” She scoffs, pausing her typing as she shakes her head. “It was an incident, a racing incident, something he knows a lot about. There was no inexperience fault.” “Oscar’s okay?” He already knows that he is, but knows it's good to ask. “He’s good. He knows that it's a racing incident.” Max winces. Wonders for a second if he should warn Carlos to keep his mouth shut, but shrugs. It wasn’t his fault that Carlos was getting in trouble because he couldn’t watch his mouth or correctly look at footage. “Can I help?” She sighs, hitting close on whatever she was writing in. “No.” She then closes her laptop, turning to face him, with a smile. “Hi. Congrats on the win.” “Thank you.” He bends to kiss her. “You okay?” “Yeah, just,” she waves her hand at her laptop, “stuff.” “Anything I can help with?” She starts to shake her head no as he sits on the edge of the bed, but she stops. “Actually, could I get your insight on something? Not just as a driver, but as someone who lives and breathes racing, loves data, really knows how the sport works.” “Of course. What’s going on?”
Another sigh leaves her, hand coming up to rub at her mouth for a second before it drops. “Why would a team not resign a driver?” His eyebrows furrow, because she knows the reasons, but he answers. “Not performing well, they want out of the team or sport, sponsorship issues.” “The driver wants to stay in the sport and the team.” Her lips turn downwards a bit at the word team. “And the driver brought new sponsorships to the team.” “They have to be not performing well.” “They’re a rookie in a back marker team.” “They have to be really performing badly.” Max says, trying to think of who in Formula 2 or 3 she’s talking about. “They already have six points and have placed ahead of their experienced teammate three times.” His mind is scrambling again, trying to find a reason, because what? “How many does his teammate have?” “Nine.” “I have no idea. Not unless there’s conflict within the team.” She shakes her head. “Is there potentially a more experienced driver for the spot?” She shakes her head. “They’re looking at another rookie or maybe someone who stepped away from the series for a year, though they’d rather take a rookie than him.” “I don’t have an answer for you. It doesn’t make sense to me.” She nods, expression falling and she’s rubbing at her face.
“What’s going on?” He asks, standing up just to crouch down in front of her, taking her hands in his. “The driver’s Logan.” “What?” “Williams isn’t sure they want to offer Logan another year.” Max stares at her. “How?” “I don’t know.” She shrugs, laughing. “There’s talks of them signing whoever wins this F2 championship or even the runner-up depending on who it is. Logan’s making too many mistakes.” “He’s costing them too much money.” Max fills in the blank, shaking his head. “That’s ridiculous. Don’t take a rookie if you can’t afford it. You are supposed to account for the worse. And he’s doing well. It’s not his fault that they built a shit car.” “I don’t know what to do.” She admits, voice just a whisper, and his heart clenches painfully at the sound of it, at the tears in her eyes. “This is his dream. I don't know what to do if that gets taken away from him.” “It won’t. We’ll figure something out.” He tells her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“I think I’m spoiled.” Max says, watching as she gets ready for bed. A faint feeling of arousal pooling his gut as she pulls on one of his shirts. He absentmindedly wonders if it would be weird to wear it tomorrow to the track, the scent of her lotion clinging to it. “Why’s that, honey?” He smiles, cheeks a bit pink, and that arousal builds a bit more at the pet name, at the way she shifts in the vanity chair to loosen some tension in her back. “You come to every race, you see me win, you celebrate them, you got to see me win my third championship today.” Those words feel weird off his tongue, today, but totally sober to celebrate. He wants desperately for tomorrow to come, for the race to finish so they can celebrate, him, her, Logan, the team. “I guess you are a bit spoiled.” He gasps, clutching at his heart, making her giggle. “That’s okay though.” She says, getting up and moving onto the bed, straddling him. “I think I like you spoiled.” He groans as she dips her head, pressing a kiss to the flutter of his pulse. “Schat.” It's a warning to stop and a plea for more. “I know.” She kisses the spot a bit firmer. “Celebrations will have to wait just a day longer.” She then rolls off him, his arm immediately lifting so she can press against his side.
“It’s cruel to win with a sprint race.” She snorts, “A sprint race never stopped us before.” “It’s cruel to win with a sprint race in Qatar.” He amends. “Very true.”
He sighs, staring at the ceiling as he calms down, luckily the feeling of her fingers tapping along his stomach not making it harder. “How’s Logan feeling?” Max asks, remembering how pale he looked when they got dinner. She sighs, moving somehow closer. “Not great. No fever, but his stomach is still a bit upset.” He winces. “He gonna be okay tomorrow?” “I hope so. The team knows that he’s sick, they’ll make the right choice.” “I hope so.” He echoes, wishing that Logan felt better, hoping that he feels better by the time the race starts.
“We are confident in him.” Max scoffs, tossing his phone aside. “I know.” “Logan still wanting to do his new routine.” She nods, lips pursed. He shakes his head. “He did good.” It wasn’t the rookie season that Oscar had, but it couldn’t be. Oscar got lucky enough to get a seat in a near top team, while Logan got one with a back of the grid team that was sometimes midfield.
Logan scoring ten points, getting himself to sixteenth in the standings, tied with Bottas in the standings, was very good for a rookie. It was a shame that Williams seemed to think he could’ve and should have done better. At least, Max thinks, the 2025 grid was wide open for possibilities.
“Are him and Oscar still joining us?” She throws him a look. “Us?” “You.” He amends, knowing that despite him joining her, he’d get caught up in Redline and different things. He was just happy she didn’t mind that. “Only for a few days and then they both are off to Australia.” “Will Logan be joining us for Florida?” “Yes. My mom has been asking the next time she’s going to see her only grandchild.” Max laughs at the eye roll. “So, Belgium first, then Monaco,” “You go to Milton for a day after.” He nods, “then Greece, Florida, Monaco.” “Not bad for the first few weeks of winter break.” “Not bad at all.” He agrees, wrapping his arms around her waist, chest pressed against her back.
It’s quiet between the couple as Max sways them.
“Max.” “Yes?” “Your mom, she does know that I’m not in my forties right? Or thirties?” She figured that the woman did, but she also had only briefly gotten to meet her at the one race, and there had been an odd expression on her face when Max introduced her as his girlfriend. He freezes. “Max.” “I knew I forgot something.”
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@ohtous @cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67 @namgification @asphalstead @poppyflower-22 @racingheartsposts @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803
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cold-kitty · 3 months
Text
Due to very, very high demand for part two of my Yan!Mermaid (looks at my notifications and cries), here it is.
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Contains: NSFW, dub-con, same warnings as the last one other than that
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Yan!Mermaid who starts clinging to your leg as you sigh, so happy that you're giving him another chance.
Yan!Mermaid who watches your hand signals and listens to your foreign words, not understanding a thing but tries to listen for your sake.
Yan!Mermaid who forces himself not to straddle you when he sits next to you, his tail swaying slowly behind him.
Yan!Mermaid who watches you fish all day, just enjoying your presence.
Yan!Mermaid who pouts and whines and clings to you when you try to leave. no no no no no! don't leave! i don't wanna be alone! stay with me, i promise to keep you warm!
Yan!Mermaid who tries to climb into the trunk of your car, and somehow manages.
Yan!Mermaid who happily slides out of your truck when you arrive home, smiling wide.
Yan!Mermaid who's surprised when you don't seem happy too. you look mad, but you suck it up and groan.
Yan!Mermaid who doesn't like how you put him in a tank with the fish you caught, he wants to sleep in your bed!
Yan!Mermaid who climbs out of the tank when you're asleep and crawls across the floor to your room, curling up in bed with you.
Yan!Mermaid who lets his mind wander to when he was grinding against you, how good it felt. y-your skin is so w-warm and soft... a-ah...
Yan!Mermaid who is immediately worked up again, pressing himself against you tight.
Yan!Mermaid who lets his hands greedily trail over you, gently squeezing your thighs and watching the flesh bounce back into place.
Yan!Mermaid who hesitantly pulls down your pants. he promises himself that he's just looking, but he can't resist the temptation. s-so pretty...
Yan!Mermaid who starts by squishing the flesh of your ass, watching it jiggle. he continues to do that for a while, almost mesmerized. he loves watching you squirm in your sleep too.
Yan!Mermaid who sticks his fingers in his mouth, sucking on them and getting them wet.
Yan!Mermaid who starts by pushing one finger into you, slowly so he doesn't hurt you. he watches how your unconscious body squirms and reacts to the intrusion.
Yan!Mermaid who slowly pushes another finger into you, but that wakes you up. you look behind you almost immediately, a horrified look on your face.
Yan!Mermaid who expects you to hurt him, staring at you with wide and fearful eyes. he starts moving his fingers nonetheless, hoping that it might calm you down, twisting and curling them with slight hesitation. oh please don't hate me! you're just so irresistible!
Yan!Mermaid who watches as your body starts to quiver softly, your head falling back into the pillow. you were giving up to the pleasure, even if reluctantly.
Yan!Mermaid who feels encouraged, his fingers thrusting fasted, twisting and curling them to his hearts content. he makes sure to get real close to you so he can hear all of your soft whimpers and moans. a-ah... keep making those sounds... so cute...
Yan!Mermaid who keeps this up until you cum, and oh my God is he so happy. he watches as you convulse softly, pulling his fingers out and licking them. he doesn't mind if it's nasty if it's you.
Yan!Mermaid who lowers himself down and starts licking up the cum that fell onto the bed.
Yan!Mermaid who pats your back reassuringly as he positions himself behind you, helping you out though the whole thing. stroking your hair, praising you in his language, kissing every inch of your body, going as slow as he can.
Yan!Mermaid who cuddles you the whole night after that, kissing you softly. he's so happy, so fucking happy. he finally got to mate with you like a real lover, even if it was only one short round.
(BONUS NSFW: Yan!Mermaid definitely does analingus, %100. Yan!Mermaid puts your needs and wants before his, if he wants to go fast and you want to go slow he goes slow. he hates seeing you in crying, so he refuses to overstimulate you, nothing rough or degrading, and he doesn't dare leave marks on you. Yan!Mermaid AFTERCARE, SO MUCH OF IT.)
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Does anyone know how mermaid dick works? Like honestly, how. Is it in the tail? Just hanging out there? HOW!?
~🐈‍⬛
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velvetydream · 4 months
Text
꒰ :🥀 [ Deer in headlight ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯
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Summary : You've been in the hotel for a while now yet one mistery you never uncovered, where that ears atop his head or hair? So you made it your mission to touch them and figure out if they are indeed ears.. and maybe a discover a matching tail to the ears?
Pairing : Alastor x Reader
Word count : 3025 Words
Genre : Fluff, Slightly suggestive near the end
Warnings ➵ Possessive and out of character Alastor
Part 2 -> < Like a deer in headlight >
a/n : I wanna pat his head and ears so badly, they look so fluffy and when they move around and are pressed to his head? I'm crying-
Also I wasn't able to find that scene as a gif so I made it myself `^` Why that scene? Bcs his ears layed back on his head look absolutely adorable!
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It's bugging you. Keeping a watching gaze on those fluffs atop a certain red-haired head, while you sat at the bar beside Angel who was in a conversation with Huskers, which you don't pay any more attention to. You were drawn in by the man sitting on the couch so carelessly while reading a newspaper.
They had to be ears right? They did move depending on his mood, even if not a lot.. But maybe it was also just his hair and not ears? If it were ears did he also have a tail? Ears and tail would make sense, seeing how he from time to time had smaller or bigger antlers atop his head, especially the big ones in his demon form.
"Are you even listening sweets?" Angels face appeared in front of your own now, twitching together a slight bit of surprise, your head turns to the two demons now and away from a certain deer demon. "Sorry.. I was spacing out a slight bit." You apologize to Angel now, Husk raising an eyebrow as he and Angel had noticed where your attention was diverted to. "Figured sweets, looked like you were eating smiles up with you eyes." Angel sends you a smirk, but you immediately start to shake your head, this wasn't what Angel was having on his mind right now. "I was wondering.. are those ears?" A gasp could be heard from Husk, Angel looking over his shoulder now to analyze Alastor's ears. The white spider was humming a bit, as he was debating whether they were ears or not, but Husker was already looking at you bewildered. "Don't even dare try anything, the last person to try and touch them was dead before they even got close." Now this was beginning to sound interesting, was Alastor this strange about it? If it was hair he wouldn't mind that much right? Well aside from the fact that he overall didn't enjoy being touched if it didn't come from his side or was allowed by him. But if they were ears.. were they sensitive? Was that why he didn't want anyone to touch them and.. did he have a matching tail? A cute little fluff of a deer tail?
Husk saw the gears in your head turning and speeding up, he grabbed both your cheeks as he turned your face to his, his eye staring into yours. "Don't you dare think about anything stupid, do you hear me?" Rolling your eyes, you pushed his hands away. Even though he was grumpy most of the time, you and Husk liked the company of one another, you two were quite good friends by now, so it made you a bit happy how he warned you and worried. But.. it was just thrilling to know, too noisy for your own good. "He won't kill me Husk, I'm his favorite!" Jumping from your seat, Husk lets out a groan, as you stride over to Alastor who is still busy reading the newspaper.
"Alastor! I got a question!" Jumping on the couch beside Alastor, you turn your body to him fully, one leg under you as your arm rests on the backside of the couch. Folding his newspaper together again, he lays it on the coffee table before looking at you. "Well of course my dear, go on ahead and ask whatever your heart desires to know!" He was talking and acting like a gentleman, giving you his full attention the second you addressed him and sat down beside him. "I was wondering for a while.. are those ears or is that your hair?" You were now pointing at his head, a smile still evident on his face, yet it somehow strained the slightest bit with irritation at your question. Huskers in the back was probably already fearing for your life. "Oh my dearest what a straightforward question, but I do fear I cannot answer you this. But do not worry your pretty little mind, maybe someday you will know." A soft pat was on your head, as the radio demon got up and made his way who knows where in quick strides.
"Oh no.. I know that face." Huskers was going crazy right now, the face you were making was one he knew oh so well, one that screamed > the game is on, I will win <. You were going to make this a game for sure, Husker was just praying the hotel would not be destroyed afterward.
The first thing now was to figure out if they really were ears, because if they were, you were so going to extant this self-proclaimed game of yours, to touching them.
"Oh Niffty my darling!" Shouting for the little psycho now, she jumps out of a room, a roach stuck on her little needle-like knife. She was a strange one no one understood, but still lovely and.. quite close to Alastor. "Niffty my dearest, you're very close to Alastor right? Do tell me, are those atop his head ears? Of course, you will get paid too for your information." Holding up a bag of alive insects and roaches, how you got them? Rather not ask, it was annoying and disgusting. Niffty was almost in an instant reaching for the bag, but you pulled it out of reach for her, reminding her what you wanted in return. "He told me how that part was sensitive and I should be careful, never told me if they were ears or not, but they have been pressed to his head a few single times when really irritated.. Now give me the bag!" Snatching the bag from you and running off with maniac-like laughter, she was crazy for sure. But did give you very useful information. Knowing the fact that he said they were sensitive, it makes you even more sure they were ears and pressed to his head when irritated? Yes, ears for sure.
Thats one check-point on your list done, now to the harder part touching them.. and figuring out if he has a tail too before he kills you for touching the ears!
Retreating to your room for now, you get out a notebook and scribble down some ideas of plans on how to touch them, but none of them seem really clever, so your notebook is quickly thrown against the wall out of frustration. A knock echoed through your room shortly after. "I heard a thump and wanted to make sure you were okay, you seem stressed.." Charlie entered your room, as you just slumped back against your pillows. Explaining to her what was bothering you, how you confirmed your theory that Alastor indeed has ears, but that you're now lost at how to be able to touch them. "You could just ask him! I'm sure a quick touch won't bother him!" Charlie was right.. If you would only take a second to touch them, just to feel them, he would agree, right? Thanking Charlie, you quickly make your way to Alastor's radio tower, this time of day he was usually busy writing his script for the following broadcast.
"Enter my dear!" His voice invited you, as he lifted his head to look at you. "What gives me the pleasure of your visit darling?" Pen still in his hand, his attention now on you though. Walking over to him, you look down at him, an unusual sight thinking of how he was normally taller than everyone and towering over them - well only exception might be Angel. "May I touch your ears? Just a second! I'll be quick!" Unnoticeable Alastor's eye twitched slightly from irritation, this topic again, you were not going to let it go, were you? "My dearest, I think I already told you to leave it, beside I never confirmed nor denied if your suspicions were correct." Head leaning on his palm now, as he was watching you, it was clear that if you were going to press on even further, he would get mad, but you didn't care. "I figured thanks to some information from someone, it won't be long! Just a soft touch! Just a second!" Now his eye twitched visibly, his hand raised and with a snap of his fingers, you were outside the door again, as you heard a click of the door being locked. Guess this didn't work.. Next plan.
Apparently, it would be harder than you thought to touch his ears. The first plan failed miserably. Currently, you are enjoying some tea with Rosie, maybe she could help you. Rosie was an old friend of Alastor, they were indeed quite close so perhaps? "Oh my dear, I have to disappoint you, our good Alastor hates getting them touched, he never let anyone near them and if, they were not able to talk about it afterward." So Rosie could also not help you, your ears peeking up now though as Rosie let out a thinking hum. "Perhaps, you could try and bribe him.. He does favor this one place in our town, it's rather expensive but, I can give in a good word for you, I do want to know how he reacts to you, his little darling touching them." Finally, some progress, though you didn't dare ask more about how Rosie had called you > his little darling < that would be for another time.
So with Rosie's help, you get his favorite meal for a good price as you make your way back to the hotel and immediately to Alastor's room. After knocking, his voice invites you in, which you gladly accept. "Oh, my dear Alastor! I got you food from your favorite place~!" In an almost sing-song voice, you announce that you got a meal for him. Now you finally saw it for the first time clearly, his ears perking up before his head turns to you with excitement. "Oh my dearest, you didn't have to!" As he was reaching out, just like before with Niffty, you pulled it out of his reach. "It wasn't cheap so.. how about as a thank you, you let me touch your ears?" The object of your current obsession now turned back, a slight scowl on Alastor's face, while still wearing his usual smile, though it was rather tight. "If that was all you wanted dearest please enjoy the meal yourself, I do not want it for those conditions." Was he for real right now? One you wouldn't eat this because.. it was in no way your preference and second you were only asking for a small touch. Rubbing them once, then you would, probably, never ask him ever again. Rolling your eyes, you push the food into his hands, you know he hasn't eaten yet, he tends to forget. "Eat it but don't think I will give up!" Storming out of his room now, his ears going back to normal, would you be behind him right now and his coat off, you would definitely see his little tail swishing from side to side.
Another failed attempt, your head now lying on Angels lap, as you both were bored in the foyer of the hotel. How could it be that no plan works? Was he despised by the idea of people touching his ears? Or maybe it hurt him? But then he wouldn't have allowed Niffty so many times to put stuff on his head and near his ears, like little self-made crowns or even flowers.
"Still no luck sweets? Maybe you should drop it, whiskers by now also absolutely going crazy worried about what your next plan will be." Angel was patting your head softly, running his fingers through your hair, your legs dangling off the side of the couch. "I really want to touch them, he just won't let me.." A small pout on your lips now, brows arched together in irritation. Over the last few days, you were breaking your head over what you could try next, but nothing really came to your mind. "Say, Angel.. your fluff is also a zone from your spidery traits, right? Would you let someone touch it?" Looking up at Angel now, he raised his eyebrows because you knew a lot of people were touching his fluff, but he figured out what you meant. "I would, because it doesn't do anything to me really, it barely tickles when someone goes too deep into it." It tickles? That was interesting, maybe Alastor's ears were also ticklish and that's why he didn't want them touched. To your surprise Angel pulled your hand to and into his fluff now, you never touched it like this. It was so soft, you bet Angel would make an amazing cuddle buddy. "See? It does nothing, but I know some others like me or smiles, who feel more on their animal traits, take whiskers for example, he wanted to cut off my hands the moment I yanked his tail once when I was drunk." You never knew that, that happened, interesting, you would definitely ask for more details of this story another time. Thinking about it now Husk would also probably not let you touch his ears or tail.
What you didn't notice was a certain demon sneaking into the hotel, watching you touch Angels fluff with stern eyes.
"Dearest!" Alastor was calling from behind you, as you made your way out of your room. "What's the matter? Do you need anything?" Alastor didn't say anything, but simply opened your door again and pushed you inside of your room, closing the door behind him. "Let's make a deal, you have to do something and in return I let you touch them." Your eyes sparking up now.. He was coming to you with a deal for touching his ears? And it wasn't for your soul?! This was probably the best day ever! "Sure whatever you want! Tell me! Now!" Your excitement couldn't be contained anymore.
"You are allowed to touch them once, in return you will never ever touch any other ones animal trait again." Huh? Your eyes blinked a few times as your brain registers his words. He asked you to never touch other's traits again? Did he mean because of you touching Angels fluff the other day? Did he see that? And why did it matter to him? Your brain was trying to puzzle together right now what this meant. "Wait.. I'm allowed to touch them once? No no no.. I'm allowed to touch them whenever I want, in return I won't touch others traits ever again." Holding your hand out with a determined expression now, Alastor's eye twitched again, but he still ended up shaking your hand, green lighting up from your hands for a second, but disappearing again after a second.
"Now.." A smirk played on your lips, as you took slow steps over to the demon, who was watching you closely. He lowered his head slightly for you to reach his head. Hands stopping an inch before his ears, fingers twitching to finally feel his ears. And finally all your advances and failed plans paid off. His ears were soft, the hair.. fur? On them soft, probably softer than his hair. They were rather warm, slightly moving against your fingers. Without thinking, you pressed a kiss against them, a gasp echoing from the demon they belonged to. Who knew all you had to do for him to agree was to slightly rile him up with jealousy?
"O-Okay! Enough!" Pulling back now, he was looking down at you again now. And what a sight he was right now. A sight you had never seen before. His face was bright red, as his ears stood tall in alert now, eyes wide and mouth despite smiling slightly agape by shock, probably of how much he actually liked it. "The deal was I could touch them whenever I wanted!" Looking at him with the best pout you could muster up now. Eye squinting a slight bit at you, before he could react, you grabbed his coat by the front, pulling him to your bed. "I will enjoy this now for as long as I want, I waited weeks and after all these failed attempts!" Fingers back on his ears now, softly running them over the fur, a cateful tug on them had the radio demon himself gasping, before biting his lip while trying to retain his signature smile. Wondering just how far you could go with this, till he might even pass out.
After hours, you finally stopped down to softly patting his hair, running your fingers through his hair. Leaning against the headboard, Alastor rested his head on your shoulder, visibly tired from you toying with his ears, now enjoying the contrast of your soft pats on his head.
"Does it feel weird? Or hurt?" Looking down at him now, you didn't even think of asking if it hurt him. Chuckling at how you're worrying for him now after hours of playing and patting his ears. "Do not worry your pretty little head love, I was so opposed to it because it's quite the opposite. It feels good, too good even sometimes." That explains his reactions a lot, his breath was rather hard when you were playing with them, and his face was crimson red at some point. If someone barged in to see him like this, they would have probably been dead by now. "Makes sense so.. do you have a matching tail?" At that his body tenses up, oh how you loved teasing him. But before you could take a peak under his coat, he was up on his feet and out of the room. This would be a fun new mission.
Angel couldn't help but cackle at the way Alastor stormed through the foyer and out of the hotel, absolutely disheveled. Husker just let out a breath when you joined them at the bar, though it stocked again when you told them of your newest plan of the radio demon and his deer tail. The radio demon probably already dreading your attempts and how he knew, he would in the end enjoy this just as much as he enjoyed you patting his ears.
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starkeyisthelastname · 5 months
Note
stepbro!rafe tricking you (being innocent) that he needs help but actually you cockwarm him and you ask him why you feel so weird on your privatparts and he just talks with you through it until he just cums inside you cause he couldn’t take it anymore
Hehe. 🤭
“Lock the door behind you.” Rafe’s voice said quietly as you patted into the bedroom.
You wondered why your step-brother wanted the door locked to watch a movie, but didn’t say anything as he always told you he knew best. Kicking off your furry slippers, you happily climbed into the bed where he was waiting.
“What movie are we watching Rafey?” You asked cutely, voice soft as you snuggled next to him. Your heavy tits pressed against his bicep as you looked up at him with curious eyes.
The ache ran straight to his cock as he glanced down at you. You were the fucking prettiest thing with your long eyelashes, full lips and gorgeous little body. He absolutely had to have you and he knew you would do anything to make him happy.
“Whatever you want sweetness.” He told you.
Your eyes widened at this as Rafe hardly ever let you pick. You eagerly grabbed the remote and began shuffling through one streaming app to another, not realizing your step-brother was getting a little impatient. The way you were wiggling around as you babbled on about how you couldn’t decide was making Rafe’s cock swell. Your tits bouncing with each little movement you made, nearly spilling out of the tiny silk tank top you wore.
Grabbing your hips, he sat you down in his lap to be still, not caring about the kitten like whine that left your mouth. “Sit still and pick the fucking movie. Yeah?” He said roughly.
You nodded with a bratty frown, as you finally picked the Cinderella Story. You snuggled your back further into Rafe’s chest, your ass resting snugly between his spread legs. He reached over to turn the lamp off, making the room dark except from the girly movie playing. Your eyes engrossed into the shit that he could care less about, as he leaned back against the pillows.
Half way through the movie, you didn’t even realize the large tip of your step-brother’s cock was poking at your entrance. You had been so focused on the screen that Rafe’s hands pulling your shorts aside hasn’t even crossed your mind.
“Rafey what are you-..” Your voice turning into a whimper as he pushed his cock into your warm cunt.
“Hush and watch your movie. You are gonna help me. Okay? You love helping your big bro don’t you?” He whispered in your ear.
He was right. You did love helping him. So you sat there and took it like a good step-sister. You tried your best to turn your attention back to the movie, all while your princess parts felt so full. Rafe had you right where he wanted. Tight little cunt fluttering around his fat length as he held you still, warming his cock in the process. He couldn’t help but let out a small groan as he had never felt anything so incredible.
“Rafey-why do you feel so weird?” Your voice shaky as you unknowingly soaked his cock.
“Shhh- sweetness. You just sit on my cock like a good girl.” The older boy told you, hands coming down to hold your waist firmly. He was embarrassed to say how close he was to bursting inside of you, your pussy squeezing his dick in vice grip.
Little moans and whimpers left between your lips as the weird sensation just kept getting more intense. You knew somewhere in your mind that this was wrong but your step-brother knew best didn’t he? You were helping him after all.
“Shit.. sweet girl keep squeezing me like that.” Rafe grunted, each time your cunt clenched around him when he would move even slightly. The pride he was losing at the edge of already cumming inside of you, made him want squeeze your throat in frustration. How dare his step-sister have such an incredible pussy that made him want bust his load?
He couldn’t hold back anymore, his hand instinctively coming to your throat to grab. You squeaked out his name, your smaller hand coming to rest on his as the warmth of something gooey shot up inside you.
“Such a good little slut..” Rafe barely whispered. “I mean helper. Such a good little helper.”
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