Tumgik
#let’s call it that in case I have more thoughts lol
yunhoszn · 1 day
Text
to hell with it
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing jung wooyoung x f!reader word count 5k genres angst﹒smut﹒teeniest bit of fluff here and there warnings 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, all lowercase bc she was supposed to be short and vibey and… that just did not happen, mentions and use of weed, very strict parents, lowkey fuckboy wooyoung lol, lots of kissing, marking, scratching, wooyoung has a fascination with reader’s tits lol, nipple play, no real foreplay, unprotected sex, cowgirl and missionary style, dacryphilia, exhibitionism kinda, quite a few references to religious-ish themes, unrequited love in a sense? i got carried away im so sorry
summary you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell.
more ok… like i said… i got carried away oopsie 😝 this was a request from my lovely wife of 20+ years @juyofans <3 i’m sorry if i strayed too far from the original idea,,, it just happened ok 🙇 also a huge thank u to @bro-atz for betaing for me i LOVE U SO MUCH!! that’s all lets keep this note short and sweet :P reblog if u enjoyed!
@atzhouse
Tumblr media
“shit.”
the curse slips from your mouth so naturally upon the discovery that your stash is completely finished. you rummage through the drawer one more time in case you might’ve missed something, but alas, you’ve run into the worst possible scenario. no more weed.
it’s not like you were dependent on it. but it was the end of a long week and it happened to be one of those days. an edible, a long rip from your bong, or a hit from a blunt wrapped with your pretty pink rolling paper sounded like fucking heaven right about now. 
you still lived at home, though, and your parents had no clue that you dabbled with marijuana, so you had to keep everything hidden in your room. unfortunately, it was just too expensive to get your own place in this day and age. and despite the fear of getting caught deeply instilled in you, you were extremely desperate. 
and well, desperate times called for desperate measures…
“hey, wooyoung…” you speak into the receiver. 
your relationship with the guy was complicated. it had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with you. he’d been your plug for a couple years now, and his pretty face made it really hard not to develop a crush. every time you bought from him, you always tried to get a lot at once so you could space out how often you saw him to make things easier on your heart. 
the two of you went to high school together, and the first time you reached out in regards to your secret habit was awkward. to say the least. all of your friends had purchased something from him at least once or twice, so they assured you that he was the real deal. but you had only ever mooched off of them and didn’t have the faintest idea what you were supposed to say or do. (what with having dictators for parents and the lot.)
you remember sending him a dm in the most cryptic way possible. he laughed it off, thinking about how cute it was that you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. but, like every other occasion in which you’d spoken to him, he had a girlfriend at the time. the first time it was haeun, then there was jisu, and it was kind of hard to keep up with the names after that. his patience was endearing, though, and it always left you wanting more out of your conversations. (which is, understandably, what attracted you to the guy.)
he was definitely not a one-partner, commitment type of guy, and that’s all you could ever want out of someone. you thought keeping distance to halt any feelings from growing was the smartest decision. if you didn’t get close to him, it would help squash whatever flame burned beneath your chest. 
but now it was time for that little crush to unearth itself, as it does whenever you see him.  
“hey, y/n, what’s up?” you can hear the smile in his voice, the one that has your insides melting and your panties nearly dropping to the floor in an instant. it’s almost cocky, like he was expecting your call. and he probably was, all things considered.
“um…“ you stop yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lip, tilting your head back. “are you free to do a drop right now?”
the digital clock on your nightstand read 9:28 PM and your parents wouldn’t be home for another hour or so, having left for the movies a little over an hour ago. (that was the only reason why you were even thinking of pulling something as idiotic as this.) 
not even were you just not allowed to have boys over. you weren’t allowed to have people over period, at least not if your parents were out. in spite of being a grown adult, they still managed to enforce strict rules and curfews on you. you were breaking so many by making this fucking phone call. 
Do Not Think About Talking To Boys Under Our Roof. 
“yeah, actually. i have to do another in the area so that works out perfectly. i can be there in ten.” he answers and that stupid smile pops into your head again. 
Absolutely No Strangers Allowed In The House Without Us Present. 
“okay cool— wait, you remember my address?” your brow scrunch together, the confusion boiling up inside of you. he snorts, some shifting audible in the background. 
No Alcohol Unless We Are Present, Absolutely No Drugs Allowed. 
“yeah? why wouldn’t i?” he asks so nonchalantly, you almost miss it. “i’ll be there soon, babe.”
he ends the call before you can even say anything, still holding your phone to your ear. your jaw hangs open and heat begins to bloom behind your cheeks. this was exactly why you were avoiding him as long as possible. jung wooyoung was a natural flirt, and you were very delusional. 
this was fine, right? all you had to do was exchange the goods and money, then send him on his way. it would be like nothing ever happened, like no one was ever here. your parents would be none the wiser and you could finally relax. it would be just like when you were sneaking around in high school, having him drop when you didn’t have a car—
fuck.
you could’ve just met him somewhere instead, huh? you didn’t have the issue of being car-less anymore. you could’ve told your parents you were running out to grab some things from the store and hid it in your bags in case they were home before you. could’ve done literally anything else except act this irrational. 
This Is An Honest and Trustworthy Household — No Lying Will Be Tolerated. 
maybe, subconsciously, you’ve been wanting to see him in this setting again. there was a thrill in breaking your parents rules. you supposed something special, something exciting sparked under your skin all those times you snuck into the backyard to meet with wooyoung through the side gate. but right now, you’re pacing inside your bedroom. this wasn’t the time to get poetic and reminisce about being a schoolgirl with a crush. 
you were bulldozing through just about everything on your parents’ list of Do Nots and you feel like you should be more anxious about it. for some reason you’re less afraid of pissing them off. you’re entirely too concerned with looking good for wooyoung, and you don’t even hear the shrill sound of your phone ringing.
wooyoung’s contact lights up the screen, sending all sorts of panic signals to your brain. you severely underestimated how long ten minutes was, and also how long you’d been standing in front of the mirror gawking at yourself like a damn fish out of water. this was embarrassing. you were better than this, god, you were so much better than to lose yourself like this over a man. but jung wooyoung somehow made all rhyme and reason escape you like he was some sexy version of the pied piper.
before you realize it, your feet have carried you down the stairs and to the front door. on the other side stand wooyoung, his backpack slung over his shoulder. he’s dressed in a red zip up hoodies and some baggy jeans. his hair is longer than when you last saw him, long enough to have some of the strands tucked loosely behind his ears. you think you’re entranced by his visuals alone, and then he opens his mouth.
”told ya i remembered.” his words drip with that charisma that sucks you in further, deeper, into the chasm you kept trying to avoid.
”uh— c-come in,” you usher him into your house and up the stairs into your room, just in case. “my parents aren’t home, but i don’t know if my neighbors are watching or something. and just in case they get back earlier, it’s easier to hide you in here than anywhere else.”
wooyoung nods with a snort, eyes wandering around the bedroom you’ve had since you were two years old. he’s never been inside of your house before, much less inside of your room. it’s very you; various posters littering the walls, makeup and skincare products cluttered around your vanity, comfy-looking sheets.
Definitely No Boys Allowed In Your Room.
“you know, y/n, i was pleasantly surprised when you called,” he shrugs off his bag, setting it on the foot of your bed, dragging his finger along the footboard. “i was starting to miss my favorite customer.”
just about everything but standing right here sounded ideal to you. if there were miraculously a sniper stationed on the roof of the house next to yours, you hoped you were in his line of sight and he would take you out. it was as if he knew. he knew exactly what his effect on you was, and that was absolutely perfect, now wasn’t it?
“your— huh?” you’re sure you sound stupid, especially so when he laughs, unzipping his backpack to take out what he was here for. the smell alone practically recalibrates your system and reboots you. wooyoung notices.
”we’ve never smoked together, have we?” he asks, pulling out the tube he was looking for. it’s about an eighth, which is less than what you usually buy from him, but you’re in no position to complain. you shake your head ‘no’ as he hands it to you, before pulling out another and doing the same thing. you raise an eyebrow at him.
”this is—“
”no, i know,” he purses his lips with a nod, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth and swiping across the bottom one. “consider it a gift, for being so loyal to me all these years.”
you guffaw in disbelief. what the fuck?
”wooyoung, you can’t possibly—“
”just let me smoke you out this once. that’s all i ask in return,” he seats himself on the edge of your bed. “and we’ll even use my stuff. you can save yours for later. i’ll make it worth your while.”
you would be cutting it really close to the time your parents were supposed to be home. but he was so tempting. and you were so weak. so, so pitifully weak.
”okay…” you let yourself say. you let yourself divulge just this once. “but, remember—“
”yes yes, your parents. do you think this is my first rodeo?” he laughs, pulling out a little plastic baggie that appears to have pre-ground weed in it. almost like… he was anticipating this? when he reaches into his backpack for what you assume is wraps, you jump to grab your pink rolling paper. you’d been so excited to use it, you weren’t going to let this opportunity go to waste.
batting your lashes at him is the only way you know how to convince him, though it doesn’t really take much convincing. your rolling skills still weren’t the best, despite doing this as long as you have, so you watch in awe as wooyoung does it. his fingers move expertly, and you have to blink away the thoughts threatening to overthrow the sane ones that have been struggling to keep afloat.
wooyoung fishes for the lighter in his pocket, red like the color of his jacket. he lights the blunt and holds it carefully between his fingers. you think he’s going to take the first hit, but then he’s holding it to your lips, gesturing for you to do it. “ladies first.” he throws in with that obnoxiously attractive laugh of his. you hesitantly follow his lead, sitting beside him, then inhaling and filling your chest. 
your exhale isn’t as graceful as you hoped it would be, a couple coughs coming out of you, but it was a strong hit. he rubs his free hand up and down your thigh to soothe you, hitting it himself. he’s definitely a lot more experienced than you, in what he does and how he does it, breathing it out into the atmosphere. your room is a little foggy now and you have half the mind to crack open a window, however, you’re hyper aware of his hand on your thigh. and you don’t want it to go away. 
If Any Of These Rules Are Broken, You Risk Being Kicked Out.
it’s calm for a few minutes, just the two of you rotating the blunt in comforting silence, his hand still branding its place on your thigh. and then his thumb starts to move. it circles into your bare skin gently, kneading mindlessly. you almost let out a whine, but you catch yourself, concealing it as a cough instead.
“you like me, don’t you, y/n?” wooyoung asks, puffing out a thick white cloud and pouting. “that’s why you buy a lot from me at once. that’s why i sometimes only see you once a month.”
the question catches you so off guard, you almost grab the pink blunt by the spark. he sets it in your ashtray, conveniently placed on one of your bedposts. you stare at him blankly, because how fucking perceptive do you have to be to figure that out? your crush was probably a little more than obvious, sure, but the avoidant tendency you had couldn’t possibly be linked to that. not unless he truly knew you like the back of his hand. 
he leans back onto his palms with a snicker, carding his fingers through his hair. the way he’s positioned allows you to glimpse at a bit more of his chest from the partially unzipped jacket. the only thing you see is that it’s bare, and your brain short circuits. it was already frying itself when he called you out, now there wasn’t a single functioning cell up there. 
“i’m high like sixty percent of the time, i see everything. i know everything.” he answers your unspoken inquiry. and well, that may be true, but it’s not like you’re doing much to refute with the way you’re ogling at him. (you were a horny high, unfortunately.) 
“what—“ you swallow, suddenly all too aware of how close you’re sitting, of how his grip on your thigh is a little more primal. “what if i said no? what then?”
“i’d think you were a liar,” he smiles, that fucking smile you can picture in your head even through a phone call. “and i don’t like being lied to.”
“so it’s a good thing i haven’t said no yet, right?” you breathe, voice entirely too stable for the situation. his hand rises higher on your thigh, the tip of his index finger brushing under your shorts. you glance down at it, eyes already heavy lidded as they observe the way it drags across your skin. fuck. 
“mhm,” he hums, gauging your reaction to his touch. “it’s very good.”
you’re losing your patience the longer you sit there, tortured by wooyoung’s hand searing on your thigh. your heart seems to beat faster and you feel like you can tell with the rise and fall of your chest picking up in speed. his lips on yours is all that you want, all that you need, and under this spell (the intoxication swimming through your bloodstream), you’re willing to accept the consequences that may come with it. 
a gasp escapes you when his nail scrapes along the side of your leg with the pressure of a feather. it’s overwhelming, to say the least. you want more and more and more, and then so much more until you can’t take it, but part of you is still insecure that he’ll leave you strung out on a clothesline if you indulge. you’re beyond thinking about the repercussions if you’re caught. you’re focused on the repercussions of being hurt if you give in. 
but enough is enough. 
placing your hand over his own, you slip it under your t-shirt where you’ve been braless this entire time. wooyoung’s eyes widen and you grab one of his hoodie strings, yanking him closer to you. your noses brush and your eyes meet, a silent ask for permission to finally play into what you’ve both been waiting for. 
you don’t really give him a second to rethink it.
your lips connect in a rough, messy kiss that has you believing in the existence of a god. one that’s granted what you’ve been dreaming of for years. maybe after this you’ll start praying before bed again, especially if it always rewards you this well. 
his mouth slots against yours like it’s the missing piece of a puzzle, your tongues tangling and your teeth nearly clashing. wooyoung’s hand on your chest regains its own control, squeezing your breast and flicking his thumb over a perked nipple. his other hand grips your waist, pulling you onto his lap. your knees dig into the mattress, hands cupping under his jaw and then entwining in his hair. 
you sigh into his kiss, obsessed with this length on him. you’re sure he feels the same when he groans after you tug on it, deepening the kiss if possible. the sigh turns into a moan when he guides your hips into a circular motion, grinding you down on him to create a bit of friction and get the ball rolling. 
he knows you don’t have a lot of time, maybe an hour tops, but fuck he wishes he could take his time with you. he wished he could explore your body and learn every single thing you liked and didn’t like, and use it all to his advantage. his senses are heightened so he’s keenly aware of your every sound, of each whine that escapes you. 
wooyoung’s mouth travels from your own, along your jaw, and down your throat, nipping and sucking so he leaves his mark on you wherever he can. your lips part with a soft moan when he finds the sensitive spot on your neck. his hand is still in your shirt, kneading and massaging your tits like it was second nature for him. 
your high has reached its peak, and you’re starting to get light headed from how good everything feels. if he didn’t touch you where you needed him most soon, you feared you might finish prematurely, and after all that you’ve been through to get to this point, you really cannot handle that tonight. thankfully, he seems to read your mind. 
“i would love to make up for lost time, but i don’t think we can right now,” he pants into your skin, hands everywhere but somehow nowhere all at once. “let me just—“
“stop yapping and just fuck me, wooyoung, you’re wasting precious time,” you groan, going straight for the zipper of his jacket. you push the red material off of his shoulders in one go, practically pawing at the button of his jeans. he laughs at your impatience, but knows you’re right. 
“well, when you put it like that, i don’t feel bad for the disgusting things i wanna do to you,” he teases, helping you pull your shirt over your head. “gonna fuck you so good, you’re gonna wanna see me more than once a month.”
the call out is crazy, but you don’t have the mental capacity to argue with him, head tossing back when he takes one of your tits into his mouth. you scrape your nails down the expanse of his chest and abdomen, a reprieve to the static buzzing throughout your body with wooyoung’s lips all over you. his teeth sink into your collarbone and you nearly lose your sanity. this was it, there was no going back now that you’ve fallen under his spell. 
his skilled fingers make quick work removing your shorts and you’re so beyond restless, that he has a bit of trouble getting them down your legs. he stills your hips firmly, practically scolding you when he says, “sit still, pretty, i’m not going anywhere.”
it’s a weird reaffirmation, and in a way it calms your erratic mind. you finally let go of those reservations and allow yourself to submit to these feelings you’ve harbored for years. the heat of wooyoung beneath you is enough to make you squirm again, needing him inside of you before you start crying. (though judging by what he’s said so far, you think he’d like that.)
“god, i need you so bad,” you whine, lips locking with his once more. you speak the words into his mouth and they hold all the subtlety of an excavator, desperation hanging off of each syllable. “please…”
you can feel, rather than see, the conniving smile that graces his features, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. he’s dangling your desire in front of you like a ball of yarn with a cat, the bed of his nails dragging along your hips slowly and tortuously. you reach down to cup his erection through his boxers and that’s what spurs him on, dropping his mischievous act in favor of gifting you what you’ve been asking for so nicely.
wooyoung pushes your underwear to the side, kicking off his boxers so he’s bare for you. part of you is way more excited than you should be to fuck him raw, for the first time nonetheless. he leans back slightly and watches as you hover over his cock, sitting on it gently. he’s definitely on the longer side, longer than the other guys you’ve been with— not that there were very many to compare him to. he fills you up just right, tapping that sweet crook of your pussy when he sheathes entirely. 
the moan that breaches the sound barrier fights itself from deep in your chest, tickling his ears and forcing out one of his own. his grip on your hips tightens as you begin to move. it’s more of him moving your body for you, not that you’re complaining at all. less work for you.
with each bounce on his cock, your bed squeaks and it wouldn’t be such a problem if you didn’t also hear the front door open downstairs. your eyes widen almost comically, meeting wooyoung’s with a fear so intense that it nearly scares him too. gratefully, he’s been in this situation before. he holds a finger up to his lips to shush you, simultaneously flipping the two of you so your back is flat on the bed and his feet are planted on the floor.
you’re glad you had the clear mind to lock your door when you came up to your room. you don’t know if it’s because it’s wooyoung, or maybe you’re just into it, but you feel yourself getting more turned on as he continues to fuck you despite your parents being home. he covers your mouth with his hand, rocking his hips into yours with a purpose. his free hand slithers between the two of you, thumb rubbing calculated circles into your clit.
”take it,” he rasps into your ear, nipping the lobe softly; a contrast to what’s tumbling out of his mouth. “take it like the good girl you are.”
at that same moment, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. wooyoung doesn’t stop, in fact, he speeds up his pace, pushing your thigh to your chest so he plunges deeper into your cunt. he’s evil, pure evil.
”y/n, are you in there?” your mother asks.
”y-yes,” you gasp, willing your voice to stay steady. “i was getting ready to go to s-sleep.”
“you sound off… are you feeling okay?” she expresses her concern and you look to wooyoung for help.
you bite down harshly on your lower lip when he leans down to suck on one of your tits instead, still very roughly snapping into you. he urges you to say something anyway, so you can at least get them to leave you alone. “y-yes! i’m fine! i was just looking f-for my pajamas!”
he laughs lowly so only you can hear, gazing at you through his lashes and whispering, “should we tell her they’re on your floor?”
your mother doesn’t question you any further. ”okay… goodnight, sweetheart.”
”goodnight!”
her footsteps get quieter as she walks away from your door. the shit-eating grin on wooyoung’s face contributes to the growing ache in the pit of your stomach more than it pisses you off. unfortunately he just had that effect on you. it was hard to be mad at him when he made you feel like you were lit ablaze, fire burning all the way to the tips of your fingers.
“look at you, sweetheart,” you hate that the pet name has you clenching around his length. his lips trail down your body, worshiping it like you were his own personal goddess. “you’re taking my cock so perfectly.”
if you could scream, you would. you’d be as loud as possible so your whole block knew who was fucking you this good. you’d chant his name like a prayer, which was ironic considering he was, in a sense, more like an incubus. you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell. the way he lures you in, like the serpent with eve in the garden of eden. he has you turning your back on all forms of reason. 
but this inebriation, this sweet poison coursing through your bloodstream as applies practiced pressure to your clit, has your whole being soaring. you could care less about the trouble that comes with it, especially when it has your back arching off of your mattress and into his chest. 
your lips pry open in a silent moan when he presses up against that same spongy nook in your pussy. tears well in your eyes as they roll back, spilling down the sides of your cheeks. wooyoung kisses them away and fucks into you harder, inching closer and closer towards what you’re already on the precipice of. 
having gone nonverbal after nearly getting caught, it requires so much energy for you to croak out, “‘m so close, woo, so so close…”
he hums approvingly, back at your mouth now. his lips mold with yours so smoothly and your fingers tangle in his hair so easily. you want this forever, to be his in more ways than one. but after tonight, you don’t know how likely that is to happen, and you’ll let yourself be satiated by this one time. 
you’re lost in the sensation of his kiss, disappearing in the feeling of his dick sliding in and out of your cunt without restriction. and maybe this would’ve been so different had you not been high. maybe this wouldn’t have happened at all had you been sober. your vision is hazy and your head is clouded, but you’ve never felt so liberated. 
wooyoung grazes his nose against yours, a stark contrast in the behavior he’s exhibited tonight. even as he does so, his lower half is still pounding into you without mercy. and for some reason, that tenderness is what has you slipping through the cracks. your orgasm washes over you with no warning, crashing and colliding into your being almost violently. 
the fluttering of your walls around his cock has wooyoung finishing right behind you, lashes skimming the tops of your cheeks in butterfly kisses that prolong the climax of your release. it’s much more intimate than you expected, your heart swelling and your body shivering with its implications. he slows his pace to something steady, something that just metaphorically holds your hand through your orgasm. 
as you recover from the weight of it all, you realize that you’re still crying. wooyoung attempts to swipe away your tears with his thumbs, but when he notices that they aren’t stopping, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. he slides out of you and back into his boxers, scouring your bedroom floor for your t-shirt. he sits you up gently and cups your jaw in his hand.
“what’s wrong?” he asks, uncharacteristically serious. you’re used to him being playful and joking about everything, so for him to show genuine concern about your emotions means a lot. a lot.
“i’m okay— i’m fine, i’m just being weird.” you dismiss his worries though, since it’s true. he doesn’t owe you anything and you don’t want to guilt him into anything just because your crush is a little heavier than the schoolgirl crush he’s made it out to be. he shakes his head. he’s not having any of that.
”no, you’re upset about something. don’t water yourself down like that.” you don’t like that this is fueling your delusions, don’t like that you want him so much more than you thought you could. and maybe you could’ve stopped yourself, had you not looked at him. your gaze traces from the beauty mark under his eye to the way his hair frames his face. 
“i want something i can’t have,” is what you settle on, swallowing down that bitter pill that you’ve been avoiding tonight. “and i think i’m finally coming to terms with it.”
wooyoung searches your expression for thicker substance, as if that will hint towards a clearer answer than what you’ve given him. he finds it in that painfully sad smile of yours. he finds it in the heartache swirling in the pools of your irises. you know he didn’t mean to lead you on. it’s not his fault, really. you understood what you were getting yourself into. none of the blame can be placed in his hold, because it doesn’t belong to him.
”i should go,” he says after a long stretch of silence. “before either of us get into any trouble.”
you watch as he dresses himself quickly and exits through the window, taking your heart along with him. but it would be okay. you wouldn’t have to see him for another month anyways. 
at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you reignite the blunt sitting in your ashtray.
Tumblr media
© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
129 notes · View notes
honeyshiddendesire · 2 days
Text
Pet Name Headcanon List
Tumblr media
Monkey D Dragon x Female Reader - sweetheart
Warnings:  office quickie, vaginal penetration, married, reader interrupts Dragon for some much needed attention but he doesn’t complain, missionary, mentions of reader masturbating, slight hair pulling
@jovialfandomfreak sorry this took me a while whenever I thought of writing my ass would fall asleep lol Also it's my first time writing for him so let me know what you think :)
*banner*
Tumblr media
Dragon heard a knock at the door and couldn't help but raise a brow at the soft voice that followed. “Dragon my love?” Your voice gently called to your husband, hearing him give a small hum. “Everything okay, sweetheart?” He asked back to your suddenly flustered form, your eyes shyly looking at him. 
“I-I was wondering if you wanted to take a break.” You told him and Dragon set down his papers with a light chuckle as he looked over at you fidgeting. “A break?” 
“Yeah… with me.” You smile at him hiding half of yourself behind the door in case he rejects. “Oh~ a break hmm.” Dragon faked being in thought as he slowly stood up and made his way around the desk to lean against it, his arms outstretched to have you go into them. Smiling as you closed his office door and quickly jumped in his arms making him catch you with a chuckle. 
Spinning you around until he could set you on his desk with a sigh, lips crashing into yours in a passionate kiss. Your arms wrapped around his muscular form till you were gripping at his long hair to pull a groan from the man. His hands ran along your body till he was undoing your belt as you were kicking off your shoes. 
“Missed you sweetheart.” Dragon whispered as he kissed along your jaw making you smile at his cute words. Dragon was a busy man and even during quickies he still made sure you knew how much you meant to him. “I missed you too baby.” You answer back as you help him wiggle you out of your jeans and thong. 
“I was touching myself earlier and I still need you so bad.” You moan out when his thick fingers rub over your soaked pussy, his groan raspy at the feel.
 “Touching yourself for me? Thought we talked about that sweetheart?” Dragon questioned as he tugged your head back to nip at your neck making you cry out in lust. “Ahh~ I-I know~ You~ nngh you were just so busy love.” Your explanation only makes him coo at you in understanding, grip on your hair softening. 
“I see. I'm sorry sweetheart let me make it up to you both.” Dragon chuckled as he continued to kiss and mark your neck to remind you just how much you meant to him. 
“Yes! Yes please.” You breathe out as you tug on his hair to bring him back to your lips. “Kiss me~” You whine making him smirk before listening either way. 
He makes quick work of his pants pulling his leaking cock out. One of your hands moving from his hair to grip the base of his cock, his palm going over your smaller one with a groan. Your legs spreading to make room for him to step closer, “Put it in please lemme feel you.” 
“Mmm~ I'm sorry I made you so needy sweetheart…can't say I don't love it though.”  His large hands grab under your thighs pulling you more to the edge causing you to lower down on your elbows. The tip of his cock grinding in-between your slick folds, both letting out a shared moan at the contact. Before you could beg him to hurry up again he was ramming his entire length inside of you at an agonizingly slow pace.  
Inch by amazing inch till your head tipped back with a breathy sigh, “Ugh~yes~!” You call out with a happy smile that only makes him lean down to laugh in your ear. “So so sorry for keeping you waiting sweetheart. How could you ever forgive me?” Dragon joked before pulling out to ram back in.
“Fuck! Just like that!” You moan as you fall all the way on your back in delight, “Keep doing that and I'll forgive you.”
“Oh is that right sweetheart. Then I shouldn't keep you waiting baby.” Dragon smirks as he stands tall to start fucking you harder. He couldn't get enough of the way your body rocked with each powerful thrust, his voice raspy with lust that mingled with your loud moans. 
“Yesyesyes! Fuck Dragon baby ~ ugh you feel so fuckin good!” You cry out clawing at the edge of the desk, mouth dropping open. Dragon only kissed his teeth taunting you as he smirked, “Wow you got a dirty mouth on you today sweetheart, must've been dying to have me inside this pussy of yours.” 
“Yes! Fuck yes! Needed you so bad!”  You moan out as you feel his cock thrust against that sweet spot that had you cry out like a whore.
“Looks like I'll need to take more breaks with you then huh sweetheart?”
25 notes · View notes
Text
More One Piece X Batman au ideas/hcs
Just more assorted ideas from this OP Batfam au here iv been playing with. All you have to know is the Batfam is now in the op world tho!
-Im leaving the og post with multiple options but im def leaning twords them having their own Pirate crew, and either ally with another canon crew or have ties to the Revs, or both. Im unsure on what they'd be called because the Bat Pirates or Bat and Bird Pirates is kinda lame lol so ill figure something out later, and also am open to suggestions!
I feel like they're very open about being Vigilante-Pirates, working like or with the Revs but still being Pirates. It catches on pretty quick for them, and later is a classification used for other similar crews. Also, yes they follow the Pirate Codes and learn the traditions! They mostly learned out of curiosity at first but learned how important it was and kinda just fell into them.
Here's the set-up on the crew for those with official position, though they do have a lot of crossovers (Any positions not specifically mentioned are just done by all the crew or when needed, or not needed at all);
Bruce is the Captain, and Navigator (Tho I feel like all of them learn how to navigate just in case). The crew mostly governs itself, but they learn more about the Pirate Codes and make sure to listen to their Captain when it's important because it's as much as about respect to their crew but also for other crews. They adapt pretty well to it tbh tho it takes a bit because being a pirate crew is largely very different from a Vigilante group.
Dick is the First Mate, and their Communications Expert/Diplomat. Ie he keeps track of allies, friends, man's the phones, er, snails? And is the one usually to socialize or mediate with both interpersonal and outside the crew. He does use swords, but doesn't consider himself the official Swordsman of the crew, that's Damian. (This is because I found out in older comics Bruce taught him to fight swashbuckler style, so he uses swords he switches out with his Escrima Sticks when needed)
Jason is their Gunner/Sniper and Cook, and he also is their Chronicler. He bitches a lot about the last two, but he refuses to let anyone take over the Cook role as he doesn't trust anyone else, but also enjoys writing their adventures down despite denying it.
Tim is their Information Gatherer and Chemist Expert, and knows the second most of Navigating. He and Bruce also are the ones who mostly make the weapons for the others, though most of them could if needed. He also shares Archaeologist duties with Bruce, though everyone partakes.
Cass is their Spymaster and Scout, and also "secret weapon" ie she kicks major ass and scares the shit out of their enemies cuz nobody expects the tiny half mute girl to be one of their frontline fighters <3
Stephanie is their Doctor, because I love the hc that she decides to become a Doctor and has been going to med school (and because I need someone to fill the position without Alfred here ^-^'), as well as their Tailor, though she splits that with Jason and Dick as needed. Though everyone knows Advanced First Aid due to their lifestyles.
I feel like Duke decides to pick up the position of Official Shipwright because they need someone to do so, and actually comes to really enjoy learning how to make and take care of ships properly.
Damian is their other Swordsman, due to his skill and pride in his swordsmanship. He is also their Beast Tamer, and secondary Spy. He's often thought to be a Cabin Boy, which pisses him off, but he's got actual positions on the ship, so he isn't despite his age. Some of the Old Guard have issues with how young he is, but it's not like anyone of them had a choice due to his past, and it's not like he hasn't earned the roles either. He's more experienced them most pirate crews!
They all switch out chores mostly evenly, Helm the ship, rigging, and do lookout duty, though often trade off when someone needs a break from the others due to the whole "trapped on a ship 24/7 hours together". Most of them know how to use instruments, so technically they all are the Musician, though they don't often do so. Damian plays his Violin the most, however, and has secretly enjoyed learning Sea Shanties to play. Dick is the one who bursts into song and knows almost endless sea shanties.
They're also all considered frontline fighters, which is strange for even a small pirate crew, but anyone can also easily switch to support or really any types of roles in a fight, which makes them even more odd. It's not often crews are very versatile, specially with how most of them can easily pick up the role or position of the roles another inhabits.
-At first I was unsure if they should ditch the costume or nah, but then I realized how hard it would to be to live in them like, 24/7 cuz they can't exactly treat this like patrol. Plus, wear and tear of the costumes would make it just unlikely they'd survive for the months or even years they're stuck in the OP world
So I decided that they do a mix-up. They keep a lot of their costume or costume elements but add more casual and piratey vibes in, both for comfort and style to fit in a little better, like these images.
Tumblr media
Bruce really didn't want to, same with ever taking off the masks or suits due to the risk of somehow being ID'd back in their world, but over time even Bruce has to admit they can't live in their suits or all call them only by their Vigilante names forever.
They still all wear masks for the most part, and how much they keep or get rid of varies between them, but yee.
Dick has a coat like above, but he also has a very nice black swashbucklers shirt he'll put over instead. Bruce was bullied into making his cowl only the top part of his face, but they got him a captains/swashbucklers hat that has similar bat ears on it as well to wear. They tried to find a Captain's coat that worked but in the end decided to stick with the cape.
Tim no longer has the full cowl of Red Robin but instead a half face one that also lets his hair free, and kept his "wing cape" and chest belts but overall went for something more casual but still armored.
Damian has changed the least with his Robin suit and refuses to really mess with it, though he will occasionally take the over-shirt off and wear a looser, more comfy shirt over the under-suit.
Uhhh the others I really don't have anything concrete but you get the idea for outfits lol
-The Whitbeards would really like them as pirates, they have soft spots for Crews that are Family, though they are not a fan of how young Damian is, even more so when they learn that apparently all the kids have been fighting since they were little, but eventually find out that Bruce liked it even less than they do, and he really had no other choice other than to teach them to do it safely then let them do it behind his back.
-Mihawk and Bruce would get along very well also btw
20 notes · View notes
Text
Ive been in a college class all about myths, so I’ve been ruminating on what Inklings would conceptualize Sirens as.
In our own myths, they’re creatures from the sea which either partially or fully look human and tempt sailors into the oceans to drown. They’re interpreted an embodiment or a metaphor of how women are temptresses, or are impure beings who use sex to corrupt poor men and lead them to their doom. They’ve also had a lot of forms, from bird women to mermaids to monsters who just look human. This archetype also seems somewhat universal, or at least a common thing we see in myths we remember due to misogyny.
Even with my limited knowledge of Japanese folktales, the Jorogumo was an example of this type of supernatural creature - a spider woman who generally filled the same purpose, tempting men with a pretty face and them draining them of their life force, also usually eating them in her web.
So… what would inklings think of Sirens? Breaking it down, sirens are:
- Shapeshifters, or just look extremely human
- From the ocean (in Greek mythology)
- tempt humans to drown in the ocean by having a beautiful singing voice, representing the desires of men and the temptation of sin to some extent
- tend to represent temptation, danger, and seduction
I came up with a few different concepts of how this could be interpreted by Inkling society:
1. If we lean more into the Greek view of sirens, they could be shapeshifting creatures who come from the ocean with a seductive song. They are eldrich and unknowable, coming from a place which could kill any unsuspecting inkling, as most creatures could at least fight back even if they were devoured anyways. They would be a personification of the dangerous ocean, willing to swallow up anyone who falls in.
They prey on the vulnerable, singing sweet lies of how “they won’t really die” since they are obviously an inkling and are swimming just fine. They tempt their victims with songs of freedom, of leaving this world, and fake thoughts of comfort.
(In this view, they could be seen as a metaphor for the call of the void, the voice which tells you to jump at the edge of a cliff or stab yourself, or maybe even suicidal thoughts. They sing from the ocean, tempting you to come to them, and so acts as a warning to inklings to never follow these thoughts as you might find yourself at the mercy of these unknowable creatures of the ocean.)
2. Another thought I had took inspiration from MLP’s changeling species, which feed off love by taking the place of the ones you love. If we follow that line of logic, Sirens become much more sinister.
They come from the Ocean, a vast and unknowable place to the modern land creatures, but can look like someone else. They lure land creatures back to the ocean to devour them, or feed off their emotional energy until they’re willing to jump into the oceans alongside them.
These Sirens are shapeshifters who take the form of someone an inkling cares for, or maybe just take on an unassuming form, and drains their life force until they’re a husk of their former self, much like the Japanese Jorogumo. In these myths, it’s the responsibility of others to see through this facade and help the poor victim who can no longer see clearly enough to recognize that this isn’t their love.
(In this version, sirens could be seen as representations of toxic love or unhealthy relationships, with people you care for turning cruel because they’re literally another person or have never been a real person who is just dropping the facade. Myths would be tragic, with inklings both falling for the disguise and jumping to their doom, or with the inkling loosing someone they once loved because they turned out to be not who they thought.)
3. My last concept is closer to our idea of fae or demons, though I’m also taking inspiration from the Kitsune, leaning into the eldrich idea of inklings who can swim as some kind of unnatural or disturbing thing.
These creatures are completely unknowable, going by their own rules and have a contempt for the inklings who abandoned the ocean. They are magical though, and can offer great power or impossible things in exchange for servitude or their lives after death. Anyone who agrees and dies are pulled into the ocean, where they suffer constant pain under the surface.
They are also tricky, able to deceive inklings and do horrible things to them with their magic, taking them under their spell and raining their life force away until they die. However, their disguises are not complete - you can tell from the fins on their ankles, or their shadows reflecting their true forms with a tail, or how they never eat seafood as they’re fellow creatures of the ocean to them.
(These would probably be stories that are metaphors for giving into sins like greed or pride, or stories of warning to be careful around strangers as they might be a supernatural creature, also manifesting fears of the unknown. The ocean part could also show how inklings fear the ocean, as it can so easily kill them, but also a contradictory reverence like we see in the world of Splatoon. They love the ocean for the food from it, and recognize they came from it, but it’s also unknowable and scary.)
Anyways, I had way too many thoughts on Splatoon’s world lol
12 notes · View notes
horreurscopes · 1 year
Text
you don't have to pay overdraft fees ever
the biden administration recently cracked down on overdraft fees which means banks cannot force you to pay them as they have become opt-in -- however you do have to call the bank (for example, paypal payments overdraft you even if you have opted out, as they function like checks.)
my experience is with wellsfargo but i imagine that most major banks may operate similarly:
if you have an overdraft fee, call the bank, you will get a machine. go through the autentification process with it but do not mention your issue when it asks you to (specially not the word overdraft -- this is a conspiracy theory i cannot prove but i swear to god they rewire you to more aggressive phone people if you tipoff the machine) instead say "i'd like to speak to a representative" the machine will be like "lol didn't get that" so you may need to repeat it a couple more times before it wires you to a real person
wait! i'd recomend calling as early in the morning as possible to avoid elevator music.
be nice to the customer service person who picks up (i make a point of thanking them for their help and calling them by their name, if i don't catch it the first time i ask them again for it)
my script is something along the lines of: "hi, i noticed there's an overdraft fee in my account that posted on [date]. i am calling to see if we (WE -- you and the representative are a team against the problem) could do something about it" (<- you may decide to be more direct, i just put my innocent hat on)
most if not all of what they say to you is a script. they will be like "i will check that for you with the automated process that takes into account you previous refund activity" BLAH BLAH BLAH. more waiting. if you have had any refunds in the past 12 months, they will be like "sorry the system says no (:" THOUGH, VERY RECENTLY, they have tacked on this question: do you have any thoughts on that / how do you feel about that / etc. though even if they do not prompt you, here's the next step:
say: thank you! i appreciate the automated review, however i do not agree/approve/consent to being charged a fee. is there any way you could check again / anyone else i could talk to / would it be possible to refund it regardless? etc.
they will check again, possibly more waiting, and then you will get an immediate refund! in the rare case they refuse to, here is the link to the FDIC website that you can refer to (note, this is for overdraft fees only):
Tumblr media
8. i cannot emphasize this enough -- be nice !!!!!!!!!!! BE NICE! be cheerful, say "thank you" and "no worries" and "take your time!". it is NOT a confrontation, it is NOT their fault, and most of the time the customer service representative wants this to be as frictionless as possible. they are helping you, use the opportunity to make a moment of their day a lot less stressful than they expect it to be.
that is ALL -- i have been using wellsfargo for over eight years, and have lost hundreds of dollars to predatory overdraft fees charged as a punishment for having no money.
during the beginning covid, when they were momentarily suspended (you had to mention covid on the phone to get them back lol), i came to the realization that all of this time they could have been giving me my money back. there was no reason not to, except corporate greed.
do not let phone social anxiety let them take your money from you, now that it is easier than EVER to get it back. and if you need motivation to pick up the phone, remember this headline from a couple of years back lol:
Tumblr media
DEATH TO CAPITALISM !!!!!!
17K notes · View notes
rebeccccccaaa · 18 days
Text
Too Sweet
______________
Spencer Reid x Reader
:: Practically at his beck and call, Spencer knows you’re too sweet for him. He knows he shouldn’t use you but he can’t stop himself when you’re also all too enthusiastic to fuck him ::
warnings :: smutttt, casual sex (kinda lol), oral (fem receiving), over stimulation, insomnia!spencer, spencer spitting facts (literally), reader is described to have hair length long enough to stick to your cheeks, obviously reader is described as afab, not sure what else i should tag so let me know what i miss :)
author’s notes :: hello, hello! honestly i saw this tik tok edit of spencer with this song (Too Sweet - Hozier) and felt a bit inspired by it and also loosely by lyrics too. please be kind as it’s been a couple years since i last wrote a fic and it’s my first one about dr reid too, so let me know if you guys like it, comment, reblog, all that jazz and critiques are more than welcome! Enjoy!
WC :: ~4k
_______________
Tumblr media
It was pretty late into the night, it was the first weekend in weeks that the team was able to really enjoy. Spencer sat in a corner of his apartment, a glass of whiskey sat on the table as he flipped the pages of a book he’s read a thousand times before, albeit it was one of favorites. 
He was hesitant to call, he didn’t want to pull you away from enjoying your weekend but when it came to his pleasure, he put himself first. You were always too nice to say no to him and he knew that. It made him feel sleazy sometimes, but this was who he was now. Rugged, damaged, fucked up. He’d been through a lot. But in those moments where you squirmed and whined beneath him, he felt satiated. You were his drug now. 
“Hello?” he mumbled when the call picked up.
“Spencer,” your voice was a whisper as  you practically sang his name.
“You’re awake,” he said.
“Yes,” you responded.
“It’s a little late don’t you think?” he poked. 
“Then why are you calling?” 
You knew why he was calling. He only ever wanted one thing from you when the sky was dark. You didn’t mind it though. You basked in it. You kind of liked it. The feeling of having sex without commitment. Your job didn’t give you enough time for a commitment. You didn’t feel humiliated or belittled by Spencer’s desires. In fact, his lust for you turned you on in most cases. Most. 
Spencer was still a good friend to you. Regardless of sleeping with him, he was your closest friend. And recently, you noticed changes in him. Maybe you’ve kept a closer eye on him more than before but you were a little concerned. You had the right after everything he’s been through. He seemed more tired than usual, even though he was still punctual with work. Although you didn’t sleep in his bed after every time you slept together, when you did, you pretended not to notice his exits and long absences in between the long hours of the night. You could barely hear his ever so quiet footsteps roaming the living room. The clanking of coffee mugs in the kitchen and his quiet ‘Shit’ when he thought he was being too loud.
Three subtle knocks rapped his door, so quiet Spencer would’ve missed if he had breathed just a bit louder. A grin spread across his face subconsciously, glancing at the clock before taking long strides to the door. It was almost midnight. You stood in the doorway with heavy eyes, not the drunk kind, but the tired kind. He moved aside to let you in. Just like last time; and all the other times you showed up at his door for him. 
“I thought you went out tonight,” he questioned, rhetorically. 
“I did. For a bit,” you told him, “I just had one drink, then went home.”
“What are you doing up so late?” you asked, you already know the answer. And Spencer knows you know too, though he tried at first to be more subtle in his nightly fixtures. He simply sighed with amusement. You set your things down on his couch, eyes adjusting to the dim lights that hardly lit the room. The glass sitting on the table in the corner caught your eyes though. 
“What are you drinking?” you asked.
“Uh, whiskey. Neat.” 
“Ew, why?” you joked.
“It’s not that bad,” he shrugged. A whiskey wouldn’t exactly be Spencer’s first choice of drink but then again his first choice of drink wouldn’t even be alcohol. If it was, he would probably be content with a beer, or something of the sort. He was sort of going through a phase during nights. He was sleeping a lot less too. 
“I just didn’t take you for a whiskey kind of guy,” you teased.
“What kind of guy did you take me for?” he poked; he wasn’t really talking about drinks anymore though. 
“Water,” you joked, making him laugh. 
Spencer stood before you now. His hands were slightly hesitant this time to rest on your hips. 
“Is everything ok, Spencer?” you asked him. 
“Yes,” his voice was a whisper. 
You didn’t believe him, but you knew better than to press him. He was a stubborn guy and whether you did or didn’t you weren’t going to get an answer. You slid your hands up his chest before cupping the back of his neck with your hands. The kiss was chaste. You didn’t want to sleep with him if he was having second thoughts.
“Are you sure? If you’ve changed your mind I can head hom-,” you were telling him.
“No, don’t,” he rushed out. 
“I’m fine; I just haven’t been sleeping well,” he confessed. This surprised you, not because you didn’t know, but because you didn’t think he would tell you. 
“Well, then maybe I should go. That way you can finally get to bed before the sun comes up for once,” you joked with him, “Besides, you’re the one who's always telling people how important sleep is to the human body.”
Your words shocked Spencer this time. Admittedly, in the back of mind he suspected that you could sense him leaving his bed, or your bed sometimes, and that one or more times he’d been a little loud dwindling in the next room. But he didn’t realize you were fully aware of his nightly escapades. You knew him too well. You were too sweet to him. Spencer knew after all the fucked up things he’s been through he didn’t deserve your friendship; or anything more despite the fact.
“Did you know that elephants sleep the least of any other animal?” he told you, he doesn’t know why. Maybe to distract you, or seduce you. Both outcomes came often enough for him to make it a guessing game.
“You’re not an elephant.”
And then there were the ultra rare times when neither outcome happened; just now being one of them. 
“Sleep deprivation has been associated with reduced sexual desire and arousal,” he tried again.
“Well, I can help with that,” you teased. There we go.
He leaned down to kiss your lips but you pulled back in tease, smile on your face; you knew how pussywhipped you had this man. He didn’t want to fight it, he was growing desperate for you with every passing second. Rolling his eyes, he dipped his head in the crook of your neck. His hands left your hips, pulling you closer to him from your waist and lower back. Your hands began to unbutton his shirt, he was still wearing the clothes you saw him working in earlier that day. 
You stopped him, never been one to have sex anywhere other than the bedroom, taking his hand already knowing where to go after doing so many times before already. Although, it wasn’t like his apartment was a confusing labyrinth. He followed you like always. 
You reached the edge of the bed, sitting instinctively. Your hand went straight to his belt, undoing it with ease. Spencer pulled your hands away from his hips before sinking to his knees to the ground. He pulled your hips to the very edge, scratching the skin as he desperately pulled at your pants bringing them down your legs. Of course you let him.
He pushed you back and you fell on your elbows, still able to see him so clearly. See him dip his head and kiss the skin on the inside of your knee, his eyes lingering on yours. You let your head go for a second, basking in the feeling of his lips. They always made you feel so warm and tingly. One thing about Spencer, he loved foreplay. All the little things that lead up to sex. Most of the time, he craved the foreplay more than the sex itself. 
He moved your legs over his shoulders, his arms wrapping around your thighs, his hands holding your hips. His nose ran along your inner thighs. Your skin erupted in goosebumps at the feeling of his warm breath coming from his nose. His fingers fiddled against your hip bones and you wiggled a bit becoming desperate by the minute for something more than just this teasing.
“Spence,” you whined, looking back at him.
“It doesn’t matter how many times we do this, you’ll never learn patience will you?” Spencer bartered. 
“Spencer, I don’t come to you to learn patience,” you spat, not with any malice however.
“You won’t come at all with that attitude,” he snapped back, hiding a grin between your legs. 
“Spencer!” you gasped.
He chuckled lowly, bringing his hand between your thighs, pulling your underwear to the side to expose you to him. You were glistening, slick beginning to leak from you already. Spencer could feel himself getting hard. He precariously tried to not buck his hips into the bed like horny teenager.  
“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath. 
He stepped up quickly letting your legs drop harshly. His fingers curled over the hem of your underwear pulling them down and tossing behind his shoulder before returning to his previous position. He felt like he was possessed. Acting and moving like it was primal, instinctive. He wanted nothing more in this moment than to satisfy you. 
He kissed all the places except the place you needed the most. You curled your toes anticipating his next move, longing for his lips, tongue, fingers, anything to bring you pleasure. Just when you were about to sit up, ready to nag at him, his lips wrapped around your bud. 
Your shoulders gave out at the feeling. Your body electrifying instantaneously. Your eyes trained on the ceiling, focusing on everything about Spencer in this moment, the sounds, his touch, his tongue. His tongue dipping in you every now and then, making you moan feverishly. His hands spread out, pinning your hips down to the bed to try and get you to stop wiggling your hips, but he wasn’t too successful in that. 
“Knock it off,” he groaned, removing a hand wrapped around your leg to bring his fingers to your entrance.
“It’s not enough; I need more,” you whined.
“No, you want more,” he debuted, “You’re being greedy.”
“And you’re being mean,” you quipped, you always had something to retort.
“Ok, fine,” he stood up.
“Stop!” you whined, “Please, come back. Do whatever you want.”
“I will,” he sat on his knees again, instantly bringing his fingers up to rub slow circles that made your toes curl. 
He purposefully let them every now and then prod at your entrance make your hips jerk in surprise. He could see how wet you were, all of the slick telling him how needy you were. He looked up to look at your face. His eyes catching your nipples peeking through the fabric of your shirt from the pleasure already, smiling to himself. 
“Sexual arousal can cause an increase in blood flow to not just female genitalia, but also the breasts,” he told you, feeling your thighs squeeze ever so slightly.
“Is that your way of telling me my nipples are hard because of you?” you teased.
“Yes,” he stated before diving straight back between your thighs. 
His tongue did circles like his fingers, the wetness and warmth much more stimulating than before. His fingers slid inside you, curling when he couldn’t push them any further. You moaned out, reaching your hand down to comb your fingers through Spencer’s shaggy hair. The noises of everything bounced off the walls of Spencer’s shallow bedroom. It sounded vulgar but so sexy. Your heavy breathing practically syncing together. 
Your thighs squeezed more and more as you got closer to your climax; you didn’t care if you were suffocating Spencer. If he died, he died pleasuring you and neither of you minded it in this moment. Your hips grinding against his tongue chasing you release frantically. Spencer pumped his fingers in and out of you rapidly, leading you to ecstasy. 
Your breaths became shaking, as did your moans. You were overcome with pleasure as your orgasm hit you so suddenly. You could feel Spencer’s smile growing against you, you knew that he wasn’t going to withdraw despite reaching your climax. 
“Oh god, too much, Spence.” 
“First it was not enough, now it’s too much?” he taunted you, fingers still pumping in and out you strenuously. 
“Spence!” you wailed, your voice trembling embarrassingly. 
When he wouldn’t give out, you pulled at his hair as you sat up and pulled his mouth away from between your thighs. 
“Oh ow, ow, ow!” he whined. 
“Jesus, you were gonna give me a heartache,” you whined. 
“Actually the possibility of having a heart attack during sexual activity is exceedingly low. So you wouldn’t have had anything to worry about; if anything you would get a small headache,” he explained. 
“You’re giving me a headache,” you whined, making him laugh.  
You pulled him from the back of his neck, crashing his lips against yours. You loved to kiss Spencer. You always felt the closest to him physically when you kissed. Which is ironic since he was quite literally inside you most nights. Kissing, the art of kissing, was practically your love language. You always gave small pecks when you were together, privately of course. 
Spencer was worried at first, that kissing was too intimate that things would complicate fast and feelings would get hurt. But as time went on and things continued to stay normal between you, he just began to relish in it rather than worry about nothing. At least that’s what he’s convinced himself of. 
He suddenly remembered the first time you slept together. You were in his apartment one night going over some details of the case. Nothing so major, or frightening, but something wasn’t adding up. You decided to take a break, cracking open some beers and just talk. One beer became two, then three, then four and then suddenly bottles littered the pitiful coffee table in front of you. You were very clear with him, “I don’t just sleep with anybody.” But you were a woman with needs just as much as Spencer was a man, “Neither do I.”
“Things have to stay the way they are if we do this,” he told you that night.
“They will,” you assured him. 
You rested your forehead against his seeing his eyes seem different. Spencer always did this. Everytime, just for a minute or even a second, he would disappear behind his eyes, like he was reminiscing on a memory you couldn’t describe. 
“You did that thing again,” you said with a small grin on your face. 
“I know,” he blushed, “Sorry.”
“You ever gonna tell me what you’re thinking about when you do that?” you questioned.
“Nope,” he smirked, making you giggle. 
Spencer stood straight up shagging his shirt off before scrambling out of his pants. He crawled back over you settling his hips between your thighs as he dipped his head down to attach his lips to your neck. Your hand curled around his neck, sliding your fingers through his hair as his breath and lips tickled your skin. Your hips fit together snuggly, grinding against desperate to chase each other’s highs.
Spencer reached into the drawer beside your head to pull out a condom. You snatched it from his hands with a devilish smirk on your face tearing it with your teeth. You spat the foil corner from your mouth, pulling the condom from its package before tossing it aside. You reached between your bodies stroking Spencer. His face blushing red, contorting with pleasure as it’s the first of the night to feel some sort of friction he needed from the beginning. The reason he called you in the first place. 
Spencer let his hands trace your skin. Though you wouldn’t react, your skin erupted in goosebumps. Feeling him prodding against your entrance, your breath hitched, your heart skipping a beat. You always anticipated this part. No matter how many times you and Spencer spent the night together, you couldn’t ever get used to the flips your stomach made at this time. 
Spencer pushed his hips into you, his length stroking your walls making your hum in delight. Spencer’s breath became heavy as he pulled out just enough before rutting back in you with skill. Your face began to feel hot as Spencer began to find a good rhythm. You could feel the sweat building on your forehead, the air cold against your scalp. 
You looked at Spencer’s face; the veins bulging from his forehead and his neck. You cupped his cheek with your hand, catching his rhythm with your hips. Your breath became heavy, your hums became moans. Spencer wasn’t exactly the most vocal lover you laid with. Not that Spencer was your lover of course. That‘s not what you meant.
“What’s going on in that pretty little brain?” Spencer’s voice took you from your sudden trance; his pace beginning to slow. He brought his hand to your face, pulling the stray hairs that stuck to your cheeks from your sweat away.
“Nothing, just don’t stop,” you sighed, pulling his lips down to yours again. 
Spencer picked up his pace again, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room. You felt overcome with an ambitious heat throughout your body. You pushed Spencer’s shoulders up trying your best to cool down without stopping your chase to your high. Spencer sat on his knees gripping your hips, practically ramming his hips into yours. Your back arched and you gripped the sheets beneath you. 
“Oh god, fuck,” you cried out. Your thighs squeezing Spencer’s torso as you began to get closer to your climax. 
“Shit, it’s like I can’t get enough no matter how many times I have you squirming beneath me,” he gloated. 
You could see Spencer's chest begin to get red, his knuckles however turning white. Your hands reached down gripping his wrists. Prying them away, before sitting up to straddle his legs, as they stretched forward, adjusting comfortably. You held on to his shoulders sturdily, finding an entirely new rhythm to chase your high. 
Spencer’s hands ran up your back, sliding under your shirt that you had yet to take off. No wonder you were overwhelmed with heat. He peeled the tight fabric from your skin, tossing it to the ground like he has so many times before. He unhooked your bra with ease, his eyes instantly trained to your chest. He couldn’t help his hands following, massaging the soft skin. Spencer looked up to you as you bounced up and down. Sweat dripping seductively down the valley of your breasts. 
“You’re so pretty,” Spencer whispered, staring up at you.
“I know,” you joked breathlessly, giving him a playful wink. 
Spencer let out a breathy laugh at that. The both of you were itching for a release now. Your bodies squirming against one another, aching to give the other the release. You leaned back placing your hands on his thighs, moving your hips faster and harder than before. 
“Spencer, I’m getting close, I feel it,” you whimpered, “Please tell me you’re close too.”
“I’m close,” he breathed out.
“Fuck,” you cried.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let go,” Spencer mused, he reached between you two, fingers circling quickly between your thighs to bring you to climax even faster.
You gasped out, chest heaving as you felt the waves of pleasures wash over you suddenly. You couldn’t help the loud moans escaping from you as you threw your head back; arched back and thighs tensed. Spencer’s hand held your body close to himself, and you curled forward wrapping your arms around his head as you climaxed indefinitely. Spencer grunted below you, his legs stiffening and jerking upward. Curses whispered from his lips. 
“Oh, shit,” you gasped, relaxing and slumping your body over Spencer. 
“Treat me good, like always,” he whispered, his hand coming briefly to stroke your hair gently. 
He rolled you over, laying you lazily on his bed before climbing out of the bed swiftly. He stumbled his way to dispose of the rubber. He grabbed a small towel from a drawer along with something to cover himself. He sat silently on the edge of the bed, gently cleaning you as your eyes slowly blinked, telling him you were exhausted. 
“You want to stay the night? I can see how tired you are.” 
“I’ll be gone first thing in the morning,” you quipped with a small grin on your face. 
Spencer laid beside you, covering your body with the blankets. You curled by his side, your leg falling over his hips. He turned the lights out, but the soft golden glow from the lights in the room next door streamed in. His arm wrapped around you, fingers softly stretching your back. Steady breaths against his chest gave him a sense of comfort. He was always a bit jealous how easily sleep came to you; how peaceful you looked when you did. Spencer tried to close his eyes. He tried to let rest wash over him like a blanket. What felt like seconds was an hour. And another hour. He peeked at his watch laying on the nightstand beside him, three o’clock the time read. 
Sighing, he sneaked out of bed, careful to not wake you. He skulked towards the kitchen, eyeing the small glass of whiskey still on the table. He couldn’t help smirk to himself over it. He opened the cabinet grabbing a mug, pouring a bitter liquid into it. He took a big swig of his favorite beverage, basking in all the flavors, when suddenly a beautiful figure stood before him. 
“Hey,” his voice was quiet. 
“I’m guessing you haven’t slept,” you tiptoed your way to him, you could hear him sighing. 
“Is there anything at all I can do to help you?” you whispered, carefully placing your hand on Spencer’s warm back. 
“No, but having you here is enough.”
You were beginning to blur the lines between your arrangement and your friendship. But neither you nor Spencer could muster up the courage to stop what you’ve started. Spencer indulged in your sweetness, the way you were always there to satiate his desires, the way you opened yourself to him like heaven’s gate. And you, well you would never admit it. Being in love with Spencer that is. You’ve known him for years; seen the best parts of him and helped him through the worst. You knew him the best of anyone you’ve known before. And he could say the same too. He’s never opened up to anyone as much as he has to you. 
You were perfect for each other. And yet, Spencer wouldn’t allow himself to bask in it. He truly believed he didn’t deserve you. That all the demons that haunted him in these dark hours were undeserving of your kindness, compassion, gentleness. Simply thinking about you was often enough to calm him in tense situations. But he would never tell you this. So here he was, standing in the kitchen with his coffee black at three in the morning wondering why you couldn’t see that he would never be enough for you. 
2K notes · View notes
delta-lethonomia · 4 days
Text
There's a reddit thread on the BG3 sub where the user u/InklingRain posted a spreadsheet they made with all the companion approvals. Super useful in general both for playing the game and for fic, so I thought I'd post it on tumblr and play around a little!
There's a top row with the average approval by companion, but I didn't find that very useful, so I changed it to the count of approvals (i.e. count of approvals & disapproval total, how often a companion had a reaction to something). We all know Astarion gives a lot of disapprovals here and there, but they're only -1 at a time, so no big deal, right?
No. Minsc has the least at only 45 reactions, Halsin at 95, Minthara at 145, and of the main companions, Gale is pretty average at 198, Lae'zel at 224, and Shadowheart, rather opinionated at 258...
but that's nothing compared to Astarion's 406. That's almost 150 more than the next person!!! That's more than Minthara and Shadowheart combined! Babygirl really woke up one day and decided to get in a snit over everything that happens 😂
(Longer post about count of positive and negative opinions, sum of approvals and disapprovals, and some major outliers below. Picture with values at the very end.)
But that's a bit disingenuous. If we look at the ratio of positive to negative opinions (not taking value into account), Astarion's pretty average at 30% (negative count over sum count, so let's call that negativity). This is similar to Gale (31%), Karlach (30%), and Lae'zel (32%). In theory, getting Astarion's approval or disapproval is just as easy as any of theirs, with a 20% bias towards positive approvals. Later companions are weighted heavily towards the lower end of the spectrum, with Jaheira at 13% negativity and Minsc at 9%. As you only get them very late, it's pretty clear that the game gives you a lot of opportunities to get their approvals and thus open up more of their quests and dialogue.
However. We have an outlier. Wyll Ravenguard, clocking in at an indecent 38% negativity! Which really just goes to show, while Astarion is the most opinionated, Wyll has the most disapprovals, making him the judgiest companion of all 🤣
However, this really wouldn't be a good post if we didn't look at the value of approvals. Karlach, for instance, has the strongest disapproval value of -100 (given if you sleep with her and then call it a mistake). Ouch. This is clearly at outlier and doesn't say much about Karlach's changeability of opinion in general. If we look at the sum of positive and negative opinions, this is a very heavy swing, making up 100 points of her total 191 disapproval points possible to her 281 approvals total. Another outlier is Minsc, who currently possesses a 43% disapproval percentage (a heavy -50 disapproval given if you sacrifice him to Sarevok. Jaheira, by contrast, apparently doesn't give a damn, or her value might simply not be included in the dateset.)
Removing outliers is really a matter of opinion here, so I'll only remove the most extreme swings, such as the above mentioned disapprovals.
The otherwise strongest swings are Astarion (-15 for telling him it was a mistake preventing him from drinking Araj's blood, or saying you only wanted to sleep with him, not deal with his trauma) and Wyll (+20 for siding with Karlach during his confrontation with her, which really shows he didn't really want to kill her and is very grateful you stopped him). Halsin gives +40 for reuniting Oliver with Thaniel, which...lifting the shadow curse is sort of his life's mission, and a bit of a unique case, so while it makes sense, I think it's such a unique event that can't be topped by anything else and will remove it. Jaheira give +20 for extending the Emperor's protection to Minsc, and, for funsies, Minthara's heaviest disapproval is -5 for donating to Lolth at the Stormshore Tabernacle. (lol)
I only chose to remove the aforementioned Karlach, Minsc, and Halsin values, as they're all very large swings and rather character-defining or personal to the individuals mentioned, so I don't think it says much about them in a more general day-to-day sense.
Now, using the sums of our negative and positive values, Gale is our most Negative Nancy, clocking in at 37%, which goes to show that while he's pretty average for the amount of things he cares about, when he disapproves, it's a strong one. Next up is Astarion at 35%, and Wyll at 34%. Lowest are Jaheira and Minsc at 7% and 4% respectively, which makes an intuitive sort of sense: Jaheira is old and just over being upset by the players poor choices, and Minsc is an insanely positive person overall. The next most positive companion is Halsin at 13%, which also matches with his vibe pretty well, followed by Minthara at 17%, Karlach at 24%, Lae'zel at 26%, and Shadowheart at 28%.
Tl;dr: Astarion has many, many opinions, but Wyll is the most judgemental (most disapprovals compared to approvals possible). However, when it comes to the strength of those disapprovals, Gale reigns supreme, followed by Astarion.
If don't break Karlach's heart, help Halsin achieve his life's ambition, or sacrifice Minsc, then they're pretty positive overall. Later companions are heavily weighted to approve of your actions, and Minthara is comparatively judgemental, but overall far more easy to gain approval than disapproval from.
If you take the average of all these values and include the later companions to look at as a personality "baseline" of how judgy and how strong those disapprovals may be, then...the Act 1 companions are all dramatic af, which really should come to no ones' surprise, while Karlach is the most willing to give the benefit of the doubt imo.
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
astonmartinii · 1 month
Text
a case of the cuddle bug | logan sargent social media au
pairing: logan sargent x fem!piastri!reader
someone check his temperature, he's got a serious case of the cuddle bug
author's note: thought we could all use some logan content to get us through the weekend
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
yourusername
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by oscarpiastri, logansargent and 201,445 others
tagged: logansargent
yourusername: he's not racing :( more time to cuddle :)
view all comments
user1: if i find out that that t-shirt was made by them i may need to be shot in the head
yourusername: sorry to be the bearer of bad news 😕
user2: y/n where do we find a logan?
yourusername: date your brother's best friend - the romance books did NOT lie
logansargent: hard to be too sad when you're around
yourusername: awwwww logie bear 🐻 i love youuuuu
logansargent: i love you too come back to the motorhome the hospitality coffee is not worth it
yourusername: not even if i swipe you a cupcake?
logansargent: okay..... maybe ....
alexalbon: i'm sorry buddy, i promise i'll do us proud
yourusername: yOU BETTER 👹
alexalbon: i'm soRRY are you like a gremlin? did someone spill some water?
yourusername: i'm gonna ignore most of that cause gizmo is cute
logansargent: she loves you really alex
alexalbon: do you still love me logie?
logansargent: yes?
alexalbon: I' SORRY I HAVE.A GUILTY CONSCIENCE I DON'T LIKE PEOPLE BEING MAD AT ME
user3: lol mood ^
oscarpiastri: you could support your BELOVED BROTHER NOW (AT HIS (OUR) HOME RACE)
yourusername: ugh i guess
oscarpiastri: you literally said you'd support me any time logan wasn't racing :(
yourusername: unless he can come with me, we'll be supporting you from the williams garage
oscarpiastri: better than nothing i guess
logansargent
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by oscarpiastri, alexalbon and 459,046 others
tagged: yourusername
logansargent: no way around it, this weekend has been the hardest of my career. however, i'm thankful for alex for picking up a couple points for the team and for having y/n with me to support me this weekend, enjoy the cute picture of her (but not too much)
also i guess congrats to oscar on a podium at his home race 🤷🏻‍♂️
view all comments
user4: hardest weekend ever... here's a pic of my. hot gf :)))))
user5: he's real for that, just reminding us that he's still winning off track
alexalbon: thank you isn't enough logie, love you man, can't wait to see you back in the car next week x
yourusername: you're so lucky you got points otherwise your ass would've been grass xoxo
alexalbon: Y/N I SAID I WAS SORRY PLEASE STOP BEING MEAN YOU'RE MEANT TO BE THE NICE PIASTRI
oscarpiastri: you stole my soon-to-be brother-in-law's car and called me a shit padel player 🖕🏻
alexalbon: why is everyone ganging up on me :(
logansargent: you gotta take it for at least this weekend bro
alexalbon: i guess...
user6: they're so cute, but who is taking these photos of them?
yourusername: oscar makes himself useful sometimes
oscarpiastri: ugh i get NO CREDIT IN THIS FAMILY
logansargent: i at least appreciate it oscar 🫶🏻
oscarpiastri: that's all well and good and i love you, you're my bff but sometimes i don't want to see you be lovely dovey with that hellspawn
fredvesti: let it be known i will no longer be sneaking out with you guys for ice cream on a race weekend, the risk was not worth the third wheeling
logansargent: i paid?
fredvesti: thank the lord you did otherwise i'd raise an official complaint
Tumblr media
oscarpiastri
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by landonorris, alexalbon and 793,209 others
tagged: logansargent & yourusername
oscarpiastri: got a podium at my home race and i'm still not my sister's favourite
view all comments
user8: have we considered that y/n and logan have attachment issues?
oscarpiastri: she sat at the window like a woman waiting for her husband at war when he DARED to go home for christmas when we were 16
yourusername: as if you haven't cried over lily 🙄
oscarpiastri: i ACTUALLY don't get to see her very often, i can't separate you and logan
yourusername: LEAVE ME BE
user9: oscar says this as if y/n wasn't crying her eyes out at the podium
user10: and logan wiping her tears to prevent smudging her eyeliner - sigh
logansargent: don't hate the player hate the game
oscarpiastri: what happened to blood being thicker than water
yourusername: you know what else is thicker than water ... 😩😩😩
oscarpiastri: okay you can sTOP RIGHT THERE
landonorris: they're really one being huh?
oscarpiastri: believe me the dinner at mine? they were being TAME
yourusername: okay for the audience we are not that bad, we're just affectionate we aren't like making out in front of everyone
landonorris: .... shame
oscarpiastri: yOU HAVE SHAME THAT'S MY SISTER
logansargent: THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND
yourusername: AND THAT'S MY BOYFRIEND
landonorris: damn tough crowd
yourusername
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by oscarpiastri, logansargent and 212,934 others
tagged: logansargent
yourusername: a wee break before my boy is back to knock your socks off
view all comments
user11: they're so cute your honour
alexalbon: dating a racing driver and not wearing a seat belt? interesting.
yourusername: dating a professional golfer and still shit at golf? interesting.
lilymunhe: she did get you there alex, soz.
yourusername: also we weren't even driving, that hair acting is all a fan
logansargent: practically a professional photographer now (the model definitely helps, she looks perfect doing anything)
yourusername: hehehheheheheheheheheheheeh
user12: y/n really just gagging alex at every corner
user13: she saw logan wasn't holding a grudge and decided to double down on hers
user14: and we respect that
logansargent: you knock my socks off everyday babe
yourusername: as long as it's only me 😘
logansargent: i've been in love with you since i was 13 👍🏻
yourusername: SNAP🫰
oscarpiastri: once again left out of the photodump
yourusername: you are not 'my boy' that would in fact be inappropraite
oscarpiastri: you couldn't just change the caption?
yourusername: you're not cute enough to be a lannister (cersei and jaime call me)
logansargent: ????
yourusername: *call us 😉
logansargent
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by lilymunhe, alexalbon and 592,309 others
tagged: yourusername
logansargent: glad to be back in the car this weekend, though if alex could stop terrorising y/n that would be great
view all comments
user15: were oscar and y/n's parents in the williams garage?
user16: so oscar wasn't lying about him basically being family already 🥹
alexalbon: i was not TERRORISNG I WAS ENGAGING IN SIBLING LIKE BANTER
oscarpiastri: hold on buster, that's MY sister 🤨
alexalbon: i can't win with any of you three 😭
yourusername: LET'S FUCKING GO EAGLE BOY GOD BLESS AMERICA 🦅🇺🇸
logansargent: i'll let you have this one for once
yourusername: as an aussie that was very hard to say, please appreciate it
logansargent: thank you my little kangaroo?
yourusername: kinda offensive they're scary
logansargent: koala?
yourusername: YOU SAYING I HAVE CHLAMYDIA?
logansargent: well i've ran out of australian animals now :(
user17: thanks for the violent reminder of chlamydia being rife in koalas :(
oscarpiastri: gonna have to beat you this weekend to win back my parents' favour it seems
yourusername: let's be real, they prefer logan over both of us :(
oscarpiastri: true 😔
logansargent: i can't help the southern charm
Tumblr media
williamsf1
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by yourusername, alexalbon and 1,034,672 others
tagged: logansargent
williamsf1: LOGAN POINTS, I REPEAT LOGAN POINTS 😤
view all comments
user20: TRUST HIM, I REPEAT TRUST HIM
yourusername: THAT'S MY BOY LET'S FUCKING GO
oscarpiastri: you never get this excited for me?
yourusername: FUCK OFF THIS IS NOT YOUR TURN, IT'S LOGAN'S DAY
maxverstappen1: pretty sure i won the race
yourusername: FUCK OFF ALL OF YOU
user21: y/n crying her eyes out she's so real
user22: based on the faces in the garage i think she may have let everything out lol
user23: as she should
user24: can't expect two people to be attached 24/7 and not be ride or die for each other
logansargent: thanks for the support, glad to pick up some points for the team
yourusername: I'M SO PROUD OF YOU
logansargent: i know you've shouted it in my face since i got back from media
yourusername: you need to know it :(
logansargent: i love you so much
yourusername: i love you even more
user25: the whole piastri family going wild in LOGAN'S garage was not on my 2024 bingo sheet
user26: but it was cute as fuck
yourusername
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by oscarpiastri, logansargent and 287,045 others
tagged: logansargent
yourusername: we're down bad with a case of the cuddle bug
view all comments
user27: the CUDDLE BUG?
user28: i need to be taken out of my misery
logansargent: i've got a high fever, a love fever
oscarpiastri: THAT WAS CORNY AS FUCK
yourusername: i thought it was cute :(
logansargent: and that's what matters
yourusername: exactlyyyyy
oscarpiastri: so fuck me, right?
yourusername: yes!
logansargent: yes!
user29: this whole interaction makes it so obvious oscar was the only boy growing up LOL
alexalbon: i'll concede, you guys are cute
yourusername: we been known
logansargent: no one does it like us
alexalbon: erm alex and lily erasure?
yourusername: lily cute, you not so much
alexalbon: stop being SO PROTECTIVE WHY ARE YOU A GOLDEN RETRIEVER WITH EVERYONE ELSE AND A RABID JACK RUSSELL WITH ME IT WAS JAMES' DECISION GO FOR JAMES' ANKLES
williamsf1: ???
yourusername: i thought it was friendly sibling banter (also james is logie's boss of course i'm not gonna go for his ankles dummy)
logansargent: she's my little guard dog 🫶🏻
yourusername: anything for you, come back to cuddle :(
logansargent: on my way cuddle bug!
fin.
note: i understand why williams made the decision they did, but i've had such a soft spot for logan since he admitted he's lonely in the paddock :( i hope he has a good next race to really prove himself to everyone xx hope you enjoyed! xx
2K notes · View notes
tojilvrs · 2 months
Text
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ FUCK MY EX! (AND HIS BOSS) ceo!toji fushiguro x fem reader (2.7k)
Tumblr media
repost from my old blog!!!
⁂ warnings: MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI! toji’s not a bum, reader gets cheated on (not by toji), m receiving oral, pet names, degradation, rough sex, reader’s ex sees them at the end, unprotected sex, creampie, sex as a revenge ploy, some praise, foot on head during doggy (does this have a technical name lol?), also tagging foot fetish JUST IN CASE the last thing counts lol, toji coerces reader, use of the name ‘daddy’ ONCE, spanking, some aftercare, toji steals your panties (and your heart), reader has hair long enough to be pulled
⁂ a/n: this fic literally came out of nowhere i had no plans of writing until i saw twitter porn and a little lightbulb formed above my head. anywho this is not great i wrote and proofread it while i was sleepy so if there’s mistakes don’t tell me i will get embarrassed!!!! THE PACING MIGHT ALSO BE HORRID i was just trying to get my claws on some fictional wiener. k luv u alllll <3
Tumblr media
You never thought you could get this low.
You also never thought you’d come home to find your now ex-boyfriend balls deep in his coworker he told you not to worry about.
Way past the stages of hurt and with no more tears left to spill, you found yourself angry. You were pissed at your ex for being unfaithful. Pissed at the woman for fucking around with a man she knew was not available. And pissed at yourself for not figuring it out sooner. Once you got over your sorrows and finally felt able to pull yourself together, you just wanted to rid your apartment of anything that reminded you of him.
That's how you found yourself across the table from that rat bastard's boss. A box full of his old shit perched in your lap and your nails tapping the side of the cardboard. Scanning the room of Mr. Fushiguro's luxurious office and finding yourself filling with rage all over again knowing that the last time you were here, you were helping him get promoted.
"Pleasure seeing you again," you watched as Mr. Fushiguro took a seat in his plush office chair, "though it appears you're here to play the part of 'scorned girlfriend' instead of ‘concerned girlfriend, hm?’ Word travels fast ‘round here.”
"Ex-girlfriend."
"Right," he clasped his hands together over his chest and kicked his feet up onto his desk, knocking over his name plate, “so what're you here for, scorned ex-girlfriend?"
"Just want to give his shit back. Passing it on to you so I won't have to see him and blondie going at it in your breakroom." You watched the man crack a smile before speaking again.
"S'all you’re gonna do?" He knew your answer by the way you tore your eyes off of him and focused them on the box in your lap instead. Slightly slumping down in your chair as if you were a child in trouble trying to evade the scrutinizing gaze of a parent “Oh, don’t tell me you’re just gonna let bygones be bygones and let him get away with it scott free.”
His tone made you feel like your entire situation was almost comical. You looked back up and narrowed your eyes at the man. Scanning his face and watching the scar on his lip twitch when the corner turned up in a smirk.
“Mr. Fushiguro-“
“Don’t have to be all formal now, call me Toji.”
“Okay, what exactly are you implying, Toji?” he sighed before standing up from his desk and fixing his name plate, smirk never falling from his lips and eyes never leaving yours.
“I know he is my employee, but i’m not really… fond of him either. And you’re too pretty of a girl to just let him get away with cheating. It’d make you feel better to hurt ‘em a little bit. Get a little revenge.”
You broke away eye contact from him again to look around his office. Taking note of how sparsely decorated the area was as you pondered and tried to avoid his eyes. It wasn’t the most mature or logical decision, but he was right. It would make you feel better to make him hurt just a little bit. “And how exactly might I go about that?”
Toji laughed a little as he walked around the desk, taking the box out of your lap and placing it on the floor before settling himself behind you. The sweet tobacco scent of his cologne invaded your nostrils as he got closer to you, making his presence feel almost suffocating.
“Y’know what would really get him?” His voice sounded as if it were laced with a honeyed sweetness. The sound surrounding you and ringing around in your ears. He shifted his feet, but you still felt the heat radiating off of him and onto your back.
“What?”You felt him grow closer. Leaning down behind you. So close that you could feel his breath fan against your skin.
“Fuckin’ his boss.”
The lewd suggestion tickled the shell of your ear. Your eyes widening and mouth going dry once you realized exactly what he was proposing to you. You opened your mouth to protest. To tell him how absolutely ridiculous that was, but your words fell short. Closing your mouth again to look down and stare at the indentions the corners of the cardboard box had left in your skin.
You couldn’t say that you hadn’t let your eyes linger a little too long at Toji Fushiguro. Always noticing how easy he was on the eyes when your ex would make you tag along to work events. How his suits would perfectly contour to his body. Showing off his bulging muscles through the fabric. How he seemed to tower over you and everyone else with his height and domineering presence. How your gazes would linger a little too long on each other and how his fingertips would “accidentally” graze your hips when passing you.
You were taken away from your thoughts by the feeling of his fingers slowly caressing up and down your jaw. His touch soft, contrasting the rough calluses that lined his fingers. You also realized he had now moved directly in front of you and you were eye-level with his crotch.
“What’ll it be, sweetness?” The tip of his thumb travelled up to your bottom lip, smearing some of your lipgloss. “Y’gonna let me help you get back at him?”
You slowly looked up at him and nodded your head, still not trusting any words to come out of your mouth. He smiled down at you, removing the hand on your chin to pet your head and using his other to unbutton his slacks.
“Gonna make you feel so good, you’ll forget allllll about your little ex-boyfriend.”
You were still looking up at him dumbly as he freed heavy cock from the confines of his pants, subconsciously parting your lips and slightly sticking out your tongue at the sight of him. Relishing in the way he looked at you and the noises he made once his cock makes contact with your awaiting tongue.
“Already so good and fuckin’ obedient. Did he teach you that?” You shake your head and he cackles. Easing his way into your throat. “So you’re just naturally a whore, huh?” He lightly slaps your cheek, not even hard enough to sting, and moves from petting your head to gripping your hair once you take him all the way into your mouth. Testing your limits and pushing his way past the tight ring of muscle in the back of your throat, loving the way you choke and sputter around him. “Takin’ me so good. Bet that motherfucker couldn’t properly stuff your throat.”
Toji’s right- he couldn’t. He also isn’t quite as big as Toji is either, in both length and girth. It also seems that the man in front of you didn’t learn to fuck from porn like your ex did. Only pushing your limits a little bit at a time and not throatfucking you from the get-go. Also making sure you’re not suffocating on him for too long.
You began to move your tongue over the vein that ran on the underside of his cock, watching in satisfaction as he throws his head back and groans. Doing it again and again and watching his face contort in pleasure.
“Shit, baby, got the sweetest fuckin’ mouth.” His voice is huskier now, almost breathy. You watch as sweat begins to lightly bead across his forehead and his hands come off of you to loosen his tie around his collar. The air becoming too thick and hot for him. You suck him off with much more passion as you get used to his size. Bobbing your head up and down his length and occasionally pulling yourself off to lick on the sensitive skin around his balls. Not paying much mind to the spit that has run from your mouth and covered the bottom half of your face.
“That’s it- hah- fuck yeah… that’s it. Gonna cum down that pretty fuckin’ throat” You kept up your ministrations, using your hand to lightly squeeze his balls as you took his full length down your throat once more. Listening as Toji’s pants became progressively more and more uneven. Only taking a few more short moments before his abs tighten and he takes in a deep inhale as he shoots his load down your throat. His leg twitching as the coil in his belly snaps. Pulling off of him to stick out your tongue and show him that you swallowed it all.
“Such a good fuckin’ girl, aren’t you?” He gripped your chin tightly and you nodded your head dumbly, fiddling with the hem of your skirt. He smiled and gestured for you to walk over to the plush, black couch he kept in his office. A guiding hand resting on your lower back as he layed you down on your stomach. He took his time running his hands from your calves all the way up to your ass, like he was trying to memorize every dip in your skin. Once he reached the hem of your skirt, he flipped it up. Gently running the palms of his hands over the smooth skin and giving the right cheek a harsh slap and soothing the sting with the very same hand that inflicted it.
“Suckin’ dick make you this wet?” Your slick had soiled your panties, smearing onto your thighs. His fingers lightly ran across the soaked fabric. You felt the couch dip under his weight as he settled behind you, feeling the fabric of his haphazardly pulled down pants and the heat of whatever skin that was exposed press into you.
“Sucking yours does.” you gasp as he pushes your panties to the side to make contact with your swollen clit. The cool air of his office hitting your soaked center makes you shiver. “You’re gentler than I thought you’d be.”
“Oh baby,” He pauses, taking his hands off of you to maneuver himself around, “you haven’t had the worst yet.”
You’re comfused until you feel the tip of his cock prodding your entrance and begin to push in. Your walls greedily sucking him in even though it felt as if he was splitting you in two.
“Tight as a fuckin’ virgin, y’gotta open up for me, girl.” His fingers rub tight circles on your clit. Using that to his advantage to thrust his cock deeper and deeper into you until he’s bottomed out. Your hips arching into him as any remnants of pain begin to wash away and are overtaken with white-hot pleasure. His hands find purchase on your hips as his thrusts begin to speed up. Going harder into you and somehow hitting you deeper each time, causing tears to spring in corners of your eyes.
“Already cryin’ on my cock and we’ve barely even started? Slut can’t handle it?” He slaps your ass again, not caring if it stings. You furiously shake your head as moans and whimpers spill from your lips. Trying your hardest to match his brutal pace with your own hips. “Oh, you think you can take control now, huh? I’d watch it, little girl.”
At first you think he pushes your face into the couch with his hand. That’s until you realize that both his hands are still on your hips and it’s actually his foot that’s found its place on the back of your head as he continues to fuck the memory of your ex out of you. Your pussy clenching down on him at the mere thought of the position.
“Like being treated like a whore don’t you? Shitty man couldn’t do it like I can.” You couldn’t respond back even if you tried. Too caught up in the feeling of being stuffed full by the most skilled man you’ve ever fucked and biggest cock you’ve ever taken. Writhing under him as the pleasure of his tip repeatedly hitting your spot over and over again was becoming almost too much.
Toji must’ve felt the way your pussy began to tighten around him or how your moans were so loud the couch wasn’t muffling them well anymore. His hand snaked around your hip and back down to your clit to rub shapes on it, bringing your closer to your peak.
“That’s right, cum on this cock baby. Hah- cum all over my fuckin’ cock.” He spoke to you through gritted teeth and the sound went straight to your core. It wasn’t long after that your back slipped into a deeper arch and your cunt clenched down on him even harder. A white ring of cream forming around the base of his dick as he worked you through your orgasm and worked himself closer to his.
“Such a good girl. You’re gonna take my cum, yeah? Gonna let me fill you up?” You nodded a quick yes, pussy still quaking from your orgasm. the only thing keeping your hips from collapsing into the couch being the vice grip of his strong hands.
The foot pressed into your head was removed and replaced by his right hand gripping your hair and pulling you up to meet his face. Looking him in the eyes for the first time since he started fucking you and seeing the beast of a man he’s become. Pupils blown, hair messy, and face sweaty as his grunts get louder, more aggressive.
“So pretty baby. You’re my good, pretty girl, right? C’mon, daddy a kiss when he cums. You’ve been so. fucking. good.” The last of his words were punctuated by rough thrusts into your heat. His heavy balls slapping against your clit so hard it was making you jump. You craned your head back even more for your lips to meet his in a sloppy, lust-filled kiss as he lets out a final rough grunt into your mouth. The familiar warmth flooding your pussy as his thrusts begin to let up.
He’s gentle with you for the first time in a while, gently resting your head back down to the couch before slowly pulling his softening dick out, tucking it back into his underwear, and smoothing your skirt back down. Rubbing a hand over the arch of your back and letting you rest on his couch as he pulls off your soiled panties and pockets them for himself. Also noticing a patch of your slick that has soiled the front of his pants and smiling as a mix of both of your releases begin to trickle out of your spent hole. Using two of his fingers to push it back in. The room is quiet for the first time in a long while. Only sound being the oscillating box fan in the corner of the room. It says quiet for a while, until you break the silence.
“Don’t even think I can remember the fucker’s name anymore.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You turn over onto your back to face him, watching closely as he fixes his suit to the best of his ability. “Wouldn’t mind seeing you again, if you’d like.”
He turns to face you, smirking again, “Can’t say I’d hate that.”
It’s your turn to smirk at him before letting your head roll over and rest again. Consumed with the thoughts of how that was definitely the best revenge plan you ever participated in.
You’re almost drifting off until that same thought wakes you up again. Sitting up to look at Toji.
“Wait, how was any of that a revenge ploy if he didn’t even see it?” Toji smirks, fixing his tie. Not even a second later you hear a knock on his door before Toji gives the visitor permission to enter.
“You wanted to see m-“ Your ex stops mid-sentence once he sees you lounging on his employer’s couch with his cum leaking out of you. “Wait, what is she doing here?”
“Baby brought your shit by.” Toji kicks the box towards him as he pulls your panties out of his back pocket and swinging them around his index finger. “Anything else you need? Or do you just wanna watch me fuck your ex-girl again?”
2K notes · View notes
archermind · 6 months
Text
Beg
Tumblr media
Spencer Reid x F!Reader (18+)
Description: Spencer has been working away on a case for 2 weeks. By the time you both see eachother again, you are so lustful for one another. You can’t help but touch yourself over the phone to him - you are willing to take the punishment for not waiting until he is home. 
Word count: approx. 1500
Content: bl0wjob, f!oralrecieving, PinV, Unprotected, Dirty talk, Hair Grabbing, cvm swallowing, name calling, rough sex, dom!spencer
authors note: apologies if this is too graphic.. looking back i can’t believe i wrote this lol! oh well… this one is truly for the horned up ones ig hehe 🤭
Tumblr media
Need grows over time… but lord, you were desperate for spencer. You were desperate for his touch, lips and cock. This had been your longest time away from him since you both met. With Spencer being away working a heavy case - you hadn’t had his attention or sex in a while. Longer than you are used to. Your hormones have been raging lately putting your sex drive at an all time high. However, knowing Spencer was on his way home to you now… you were practically panting at the thought of him. 
Your phone rang out. You leaped onto the bed, grabbing the phone and answering the call. You smiled as you heard Spencer mumble hello. You had missed him dearly after he hadn’t called you very much. You loved his voice… especially when it was full of moans. 
“Hey, Spence” you sighed.
“Bad news, I'm stuck in traffic, baby.”
You fell back onto the bed, letting out a groan. Why was life so cruel to do this to you? Just as the man you want most is on his way to you, yet again something prevents it. Spencer began rambling about how much he misses you and how you shouldn’t worry because it won't be too long… hopefully
“Hopefully it isn't Spence” you smirked, “i will just have to start without you”
Your hand trailed down to the waistband of your pants. You began to tease yourself, just like Spencer would. You let out a pleasurable sigh at the feeling of your clit being rubbed… slowly. You heard Spencer huff into the phone.
“Oh i hope you aren't doing what i think you are doing Y/N” he grumbled lowly. 
You moaned quietly, “what do you think i’m doing Spencer”
“I think you are being a little brat” he paused briefly, listening to the way your breath hitched as he called you a ‘brat’ 
“How come Spencer baby?” you teased, biting your bottom lip as your circular motions picked up speed a little more. 
“Because you are touching yourself when i am not there” he growled
“And what are you going to do about it?” you pause, playing your cards right before making your final move, “Dr Reid…”
Abruptly the phone call ended. You giggled knowing you pushed him to the edge. You leaned your head back from the pleasure you received in your dirty actions. As you did so, the door to your shared bedroom swung open. Your eyes widened as you were caught in the act from spencer. 
“That wasn't so smart was it now Y/N?” he slowly approached you, like you were prey and he was a predator. He was calculated and dangerous. He wanted to punish you and you knew it. 
You shook your head, sitting up. As you did he took his hand under your chin gently, forcing you to look up at him. He leant down to kiss the side of your temple. It was gentle and kind. Before pulling away, Spencer hovered near your ear. 
“Stand up and get on your fucking knees infront of me” he whispered, you did as he ordered. 
As you stood up, you watched him take his trousers off in front of you. You got to your knees and saw his hard leaking cock, precum gathering at the tip. You felt wetness pool at your core, soaking your panties. Spencer ran his hand into your hair before grabbing a fistful and forcing you to look at him. 
“Look what your dirty phone call did to me Y/N,” Spencer looked down at you as you smirked at the effect you had on him, “suck it” he called out to you.
Your hand gripped his long cock, looking up to gaze at him. You opened your mouth, licking Spencer from the base of his cock to his tip. You watched him suck in a harsh breath as you swirl your tongue around his tip to clean up the salty precum. You smirked at him before spitting onto his cock. As soon as you did so, Spencer gripped your hair and forced his dick into your throat with one thrust. You gripped the base of his cock, trying to steady his eagerness. You began bobbing your head as your other hand fondled his balls, causing him to whimper at your touch. You sucked on his tip, knowing it drove him wild as you moved your hand up and down working the base of his cock. Spencer moaned and panted as he grew closer to his climax. Spencer began fucking your throat, causing you to moan with your lips around his cock. It sent Spencer over the edge causing a stream of warm cum to shoot down your throat. 
“F-fuck Y/N” he stuttered.
You moved away from his cock, standing up and sitting yourself onto the bed. Spencer removed his shirt and walked towards you. Pushing you back, he crawled above you. Spencer kissed your swollen lips before moving to leave a trail of wet kisses along your jawline and neck. Quickly, he removed your pants and shirt. Spencer smirked as he was met with your bare breasts, realizing you had worn no bra. 
Spencer began brushing soft kisses against them, you giggled as his nose tickled your abdomen. His mouth stopped just above your black lacy waistline. The corners of Spencer's mouth upturned as he watched you buck your hips and wriggle with want and need. 
“Look who is needy now,” he said softly. 
“Please- Spence” you whined. 
You moaned, watching him tear off your underwear with his pearly whites. Your hands tangled in his hair as he nipped at the skin of your thigh with his soft bite. You writhed and wriggled beneath him, feeling his hot breath hover above your core. Slowly, he began to kitten lick your clit. You cried out with pleasure as he pushed his tongue into you - using his wet long tongue to fuck you sensless. Spencer’s long fingers stimulate your clit, while yours tangled into his brown mop of curls while you grinded against his hot mouth. 
Abruptly, Spencer pulled away. You yearned for his touch again as you squirmed under him. Spencer gripped your thighs as he flipped you on your stomach. You arched your spine, pushing your naked ass further out to him - your body begging for his cock to be buried within you. You felt hands grip your hips and push you away from his dick. 
Spencer tutted, “if you are that desperate, then beg.” 
You trembled with need and desperation. 
“Beg Y/N” he called out
“Fuck please Spence” you panted gripping the sheets below you in anger of your desperate need
“What do you want Y/N?” he questioned, making you beg more. 
“Please Spencer, i want you to fuck me hard with your cock. I need you” you hurriedly begged, the want becoming too much for you. 
“Such a good pretty slut you are, Y/N” Spencer taunted.
You felt him line his length with your cunt. Spencer grasped your hips, pulling you back onto his cock roughly. He pounded you again. again. And again. Harsh breaths with lingering moans fell from both of your lips recklessly. You gripped the sheets, crying with pleasure from each deep thrust. Spencer peppered kisses onto your shoulder as he leaned over you, allowing his cock to enter you deeper and hit more sensitive angles. 
“You feel so good Y/N” he breathed into your ear
You tried to form a sentence back to him but he had you cockdrunk and senseless with each thrust. Your words were mumbles and stutters, a ball of pleasure beginning to knot in your stomach. You turned your head, allowing for Spencer to kiss you deeply as your tongues greeted each other. It was hungry and rough. Your lips were both messy and flushed.
You felt yourself grow closer and closer to your climax. Your walls clenched around Spencer's cock. You bit your lip, trying to suppress any more loud cries or whimpers at the mercy of your neighbors.
“Spencer i'm going to c-c-” your breathing hitched with every word, the words left aimlessly on your tongue
You couldn’t even finish your words until you came quickly onto Spencer. You heard him grunt behind you, letting out a stream of profanities as he too came with you. Spencer allowed himself to fill you up before he helped you off of his dick and laid your tired body onto the bed.
Your skin was flushed from the events and his was too. You both lay there trying to regain sense. You looked at Spencer, watching as his chest heaved up and down. You shifted your body closer to him, settling against his warm sticky skin from sweat. He brushed your sex hair out of your face and pressed a light kiss atop of your head.
“I love you Spencer” you whispered
Tumblr media
taglist: @cham9ions @bunbunbl0gs
2K notes · View notes
miirohs · 8 months
Text
he looks up, grinnin' like a devil [r.n.z]
pairing: OPLA!Roronoa Zoro x Fem!Reader wc: 0.5k cw: minor spoilers an: i feel like this man needs a fic from my bc he lives in my head rent free. anyways dont get mad at me if this isnt accurate lol i did everything based off the live action n i plan on reading the manga (eventually)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Zoro?" You huffed, laying still on the floor of the quarterdeck, eyes shut as you bathed in the sunlight.
There was no response and you frowned, calling again.
"Zoroooo."
A few beats of silence, followed by clunking on wood and and a grunt as shade was cast over your closed eyes. There was a thump and you grinned.
"What?"
You cracked open an eye lazily, staring at Zoros' face as he bent over you, watching you closely.
"Are you mad at me for yelling for you?" You muttered, head bumping against his leg, crossed under the other that his arm rested on.
"Maybe. I was trying to take a nap. Didn't work anyways. What are you doing up here?" You simply turned your head towards him, eyes flitting over his face for what seemed like the thousandth time.
No matter how many times you saw him, you could never seem to get over his profile.
"I was helping Sanji with the tangerines. He needed my help picking the fruit and watering the plants." You sighed, turning on your side.
He made a face, somewhere between disbelief and what looked like jealousy, but you couldn't tell. Not as the sun glared at you from behind him.
"He promised me food if i helped him," you protested at his look, rolling your eyes, "Don't look at me like that."
"How does that pertain to me? I never said anything." He shot back, failing to hide the flustered look at his eyes as he realized you'd caught him. "Zoroooo- you're making the face again," You giggled, rolling onto your stomach to stare at him.
He pretended to look confused, but you knew him like the back of your hand, thinly veiled distress underlying his features.
"Give it up Zo, you're jealous!" You teased, running a finger along the hemming of his pants. "Am not," he said plainly, averting your eyes.
"Am too-" You hummed.
"Am. not." He leaned down, baring his teeth slightly. His earrings jingled in the wind, gently swayed by the breeze.
Before you could stop yourself, you grabbed his face, fingers grazed barely by the golden earrings.
There were freckles littered all over his face, barely noticeable unless you looked close enough.
You hadn't realized they were there until after the fight with Mihawk, when you stayed at his side, leaning over him hoping he would wake up. They were like little mini constellations, a galaxy you could kiss, although you had never said that to his face.
"Have i ever told you how pretty you look?" You left kiss after kiss on his cheeks, skin burning despite how stoic he looked on the outside. "You've got a grin like the devil yet the aura of an angel."
"Shouldn't i be saying that to you?" He huffed, pulling you closer. He obviously didn't want to let you go.
"You should. I want to hear it more from you," you said, expectant for the tiniest bit more you could milk from this, "tell me how much you love me."
Zoro's gruff exterior softened slightly as he looked into your eyes, whispering under bated breath, "You're as beautiful as always, Y/n."
"Well, in that case," you said playfully, "you're incredibly handsome, Zoro. My one and only."
A rare smile played on his face, and you looked around quickly, leaning in to give him a soft kiss. The breeze seemed to pick up, salty sea air filling your lungs.
As you broke the kiss, you let out a laugh, "I think we both needed that."
Zoro nodded in agreement. "Yeah, maybe I'm a bit jealous, but I can't stand the thought of you spending too much time with that damn cook."
You chuckled, running your fingers through his green hair. "Don't worry, Roronoa. You're the only one I want."
He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you. "Good," he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. "Because you're the only one i need."
2K notes · View notes
nickfowlerrr · 9 months
Text
i never thought you’d happen to me - 2
Tumblr media
part one / part three
pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader
warnings: 18+ only. smut, fluff, bit of angst. time travel via magic. dad!bucky and mom!reader. steve x nat. some morally dubious homemade porn viewing 💀. if i’m missing anything that should be tagged, please lmk!
words: 6.7k
notes: this idea came from a prompt post i saw not too long ago and coincidentally fell into some bingo spots for my @the-slumberparty bingo card. fair warning: this is so completely self indulgent and a little trope overload lol but i had such a good time working on it and it was fun to write so who really cares 😌 thank you in advance for reading and reblogging! as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated. please let me know what you think!
Tumblr media
Back at the house, your house, you wander around the living room as Bucky sits on the tablet in the kitchen, consumed by whatever it is he's looking through.
You stop at the large bookshelf that's screwed into the wall, the picture frames all around catching your attention.
You smile at the baby pictures of the twins, admiring their tiny faces as you and Bucky each hold one, looking down at them like they were the only things in the world that mattered. You note how close you are to Bucky in the photo, practically in his lap as you lean into him.
Your eyes drift down the case before landing on a gorgeous shot, breathtaking, really.
You're in white, the elegant dress you don seemingly straight out of your dreams as you recline into Bucky who stands behind you, his arms around your waist as your hands cover his. You're smiling as he appears to be whispering something in your ear, a smile of his own evident as he does.
It's intimate and delicate and it seizes your heart as you can't seem to take your eyes off of it.
Your mind can't seem to make sense of it, though.
How do you get from here to there? How can you ever have this life? It seems so unreal.
Bucky can’t stand you more than half the time,  he's made that fact abundantly clear. So how the hell does he go from that to this? What changes? Why?
The sound of your name being called gets your attention as you wipe at your welling eyes. You hadn't noticed it happening, but you felt it when you finally blinked and looked away from the photo.
"Yeah?"
"My card is linked to this thing apparently, I was gonna order food."
"Okay," you breathe.
"What do you want?"
"I don't care. Whatever is fine," you brush off as you finally turn around and meet his eye. "I'm gonna shower."
He doesn't respond, but he doesn't take his eyes off of you either, watching you intently as you pass him and walk back to the room.
----
You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The car ride back to the house seemed longer without the twins there to distract you from your close proximity to Bucky. And being alone together once you finally got back, despite the huge space allotted to you in this house, still seemed stifling. There was a growing tension between you that was more than ready to break.
You weren’t unfamiliar with the feeling. 
It seemed to be ever present when you two were around each other and only intensified the longer you were alone with one another. 
As you began undressing, starting the water for your shower, your mind wandered to the last time you found yourself in such close quarters with him. 
You were both beyond exhausted when you’d gotten back to the tower after your mission. It hadn’t gone as smoothly as anyone would have hoped, but you got the job done, if not just a little worse for wear. 
You were leaning against the right side of the elevator, facing the door as Bucky stood closer to the left side, facing the same direction as you. It was quiet, and though your body was sore beyond belief, you mentally chided yourself for not just taking the stairs. You’d just finished giving him a piece of your mind after he made yet another unhelpful comment about how you could have easily avoided being flung down a flight of stairs earlier. 
Crazy as it might have seemed, receiving a play by play of every tiny misstep you’d taken after a mission as grueling as that one didn’t go over too well with you. Especially as you stood with bandaged ribs, miscellaneous cuts, bumps, and bruises all over your body, and what you were sure was a concussion causing the throbbing in your head. 
You closed your eyes as you let your head rest against the wall, one hand on the rail and the other holding your duffel. 
A sudden jerking had your eyes snapping open as you held tighter to the railing to keep your balance, the light above shutting off briefly before a dimmer one returned as the elevator completely stopped moving.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you groused under your breath before sinking down to the floor in utter exhaustion. The elevator had been on the fritz since before you had even left for the mission last week, you assumed they would’ve gotten it fixed by the time you returned. Clearly you were wrong.
You watched as Bucky hit random buttons on the panel in front of him in a vain attempt to get the thing to move again. You wanted to say something snarky but just sighed exaggeratedly instead. After a moment, still no words spoken between either of you, Bucky took out his emergency phone and called for help.
You didn’t pay much attention to his conversation as the pressure in your head grew, but his next words caught your attention completely. 
“What the hell do you mean an hour?” he nearly growled into the phone. 
You couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation well but there were only so many people he could have called at this hour that would be able to help and the snicker that made its way through the line had you betting on Stark.
He hung up and chanced a glance to you, meeting your gaze. “Might be a while,” he huffed before looking away. 
He approached the doors of the elevator and you winced at the sound they emitted as he pulled them open slightly. He was greeted by nothing but the walls of the elevator shaft before he allowed the doors to close again. You watched as he checked the time on his phone before he sat down himself. You let your eyes shut again, your tiredness winning out in the quiet settling over you. It was maybe ten minutes later when you were rudely awoken by Bucky.
You were impressed with his bravery because you could still feel your irritation roiling off of you from your earlier exchange. Your eyes were still closed when you felt his fingers brush against the bruise on your jaw. 
“What?” you asked harshly, swatting his hand away from you as you shot daggers at him with your glare.
“Considering how often you find yourself in the med bay, you’d think you’d know the basics of what not to do when it comes to head trauma.” 
“Jesus Christ, you just never fucking stop, do you,” you huffed before snapping completely. “I get it, Bucky, okay? I’m a fuck up, I’m reckless and careless and I don’t think before I act, is that what you wanna hear? Are you happy now? I admit it! I’m everything you say I am. But at the end of the day, I have never put you or anyone else in harm’s way. And just a reminder, I got the files and took out everyone I needed to along the way by myself. So I don’t know, maybe give me a little fucking credit for once,” you raged, the pain in your body only adding to your anger.
“This isn’t about me or the mission getting done or anyone else,” he fired back, his tone catching you off guard, though you refused to show it, “I’m never worried about any of that. But you are careless. Look at you! You put yourself in needless danger over and over again, and yeah, it pisses me off. You always end up hurt when you never should have been in the position to get hurt to begin with. You think I enjoy seeing you like this? I’m your partner, I’m the one who’s supposed to have your back and yet every assignment, you continue to go out of your way to make it damn near impossible for me to do.”
“Your job isn’t to keep me from getting hurt,” you deflected, not wanting to focus on the way his words were making you feel as you flicked your eyes away from his burning blue ones. It was too confusing. A mix of care and chastation you were having trouble processing at once. 
“And yours isn’t to get killed in some pathetic attempt to prove yourself,” he shot back before his tone quieted significantly. “You have nothing to prove,” he finished. 
Your gaze softened at that, a sense of embarrassment coming over you at how clearly he saw through you; The simultaneous feeling of validation his last words offered had the previous tension you felt in your anger lightening before you let your eyes slowly return to his.
There was a thick silence between you as you looked at one another, nothing but your slowing breaths to be heard. His gaze wasn’t as harsh now, but it still took a lot out of you to hold it. The intensity his eyes held was unmatched. You hadn’t realized before, how much closer he had gotten to you, but it was evident now as you nearly felt yourself buzzing - suddenly all too aware of everything in the confined void you’d found yourselves in. 
And then, you couldn’t say why or how, but you found your eyes falling to his lips. A stuttered breath leaving you as inadvertently leaned in a bit closer to him. 
That wasn’t you, though, you’d realized after a split second, one hand reaching up to hold the rail. 
The elevator jolted a bit as it began to move again, only a few seconds passing before the ding signaling its arrival at the top floor sounded. You were still looking at one another, maybe more intensely than you’d realized, when the doors slid open.
“Uh-oh, did I interrupt something? Let me guess, lover’s quarrel?”
Your gaze quickly turned into a glare as you both turned to see Tony waiting at the doors for you.
You rolled your eyes and got up as quickly as you could, trying to hide your winces of pain as you did. 
“Fuck off,” you said as you brushed past him.
“Is that your catchphrase now?” he called after you, “Ya know, I like it, it suits you.”
You remember how embarrassed you were after that night, praying that Bucky hadn’t noticed where your eyes had drifted to, or if he did that he’d have the decency to pretend he hadn’t. You’d chalked it up to a moment of weakness. You weren’t stupid enough to expect him to return your (very well kept to yourself) feelings. You never expected anything out of him, and honestly you’d been trying to shake them yourself since you’d been partnered up. You avoided him for a good week straight after that night, and neither of you has brought it up since.
Even now, you could pretend all you wanted that those feelings didn’t exist, but deep down, you knew they were alive and well. And clearly, as you looked again at the picture of you and Bucky sitting on the bedside table, it wasn’t something you could believably go on denying much longer.
The shower helped. Kind of. You feel better physically, but your mind is still dead set on trying to figure out the future. You take your time drying off and getting into a clean pair of pajamas while Bucky waits in the kitchen.
He's scrolling through every app he can, trying to piece together his future as it stands. And if he's being honest, trying to figure out how the hell he was able to get you to stop hating him. How he was able to get you to fall in love with him..
He opens up the photo library, grinning as he sees photo after photo of the twins, and some family photos, pictures of you, pictures of him, intermingled in.
He backs out of the gallery and scrolls down mindlessly through the albums. His eyes land on the "Hidden" tab and he clicks on it without too much thought, his face unlocking it and granting him access.
His eyes go wide, his mouth goes dry at the images that liter the screen. 
He should close out, look away, something, but he doesn't. The scandalous photos grab him and he just can't. One icon in particular catches his eye and he clicks on it without thinking, the video playing instantly.
He watches the screen intently, hunching over the tablet as he holds it tightly in his hands. Sees himself leave from in front of the camera, his movement revealing you as you wait for him on your bed. You're peering up at him attentively as he approaches you before you spare a glance to the camera and then back to him. A soft smirk playing on your lips as he towers over you, causing you to look up further and further as you recline until you’re on your back. 
“Hi,” you simper breathily, earning a smirk from him in return.
“Hi,” he breathed, leaning ever closer.
He watches as you scoot back on the bed and he follows you, his hands tracing down your curves, fingers playing with the material of your lingerie before he drops his head and begins trailing kisses from the softness of your stomach, up your sternum and along your neck before finally your lips meet.
Bucky is completely enraptured in the scene playing out before his very eyes. He’s sitting here feeling jealous of himself as you run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to you before you bring a leg up around his hip, arching your body into his own.
It’s sensual at first but you both seem to grow impatient quickly as your kissing heats up and becomes more and more hungry. 
Finally, you slip a hand down and tug at the waistband of his boxers until he pulls away. 
Bucky can see your face perfectly, your eyes are dark as you push yourself up onto your forearms, watching him.
Instead of ridding himself of his boxers right away, he slowly, teasingly drags your silky underwear down your thick thighs as you watch him with heavy eyes, your legs spread just for him.
“Look at the camera,” he hears his own voice command.
Your eyes flick from him to the lens as Bucky swallows thickly, still completely unable to look anywhere but you. 
You gasp suddenly as he quickly buries his face between your thighs, your fingers tightening in his hair as your head lolls back some. Your soft moans begin tumbling past your lips as he focuses his attention solely on you, devoted and unrelenting as you mewl and writhe under his ministrations.
When a whimper of his name leaves you, it causes Bucky to shift in his seat, trying to ease the ache growing in his shorts as he watches you rock yourself against his face.
“Buck,” you moan, “please,” you whine with a tug of his hair. 
He watches as your toes curl, feet arching, and your entire body seems to tense around him, your eyes squeezing shut as your mouth hangs open until your legs quake and you let out a tight, shaky whimper on an exhale. You bite your knuckle in an attempt to keep yourself quiet while he continues working you through your orgasm. 
When he finally lets up and gives you a chance to collect yourself, he moves up your body, finding your lips as he kisses you again, leaving you even more breathless than you had been.
“It’s just you and me tonight, doll. Don’t hold back on me,” he kisses you again, his hands going around your back to undo your bra. “I’m gonna wanna hear you when I watch this back,” he smirks.
You're completely naked as Bucky stands before you, finally taking off his boxers. “Turn around for me,” he tells you. 
You do as he says, getting on all fours with him situated perfectly behind you. He angles you both so the camera has a better view. Bucky watches as he teases your entrance with his tip, over and over again as you whine and wiggle your ass in pure desperation for him.
He keeps the volume low as he lets the video play, he isn’t sure how much time passes as his eyes are glued to the screen, watching himself take you as you let him. He listens to how prettily you cry for him, to the salacious sounds of his cock driving into you over and over, the wet squelching mixing with the slapping of skin as he fucks you hard.
Bucky feels his cock twitching in his shorts as he watches you come for him before hearing himself groan deeply, moaning while he empties his load into your pretty cunt.
He watches the come down, sees himself running his hands along your skin, peppering kisses all over your body, before you roll over beneath him, pulling him down to you and kissing him desperately.
He is entirely unsure about the morality of this all, but he can't look away.
"Fuck, you're amazing," he breathes heavily as he pulls away from you just so. "Thank you, sweetheart," he grins lazily, stroking your cheek.
"Mmm,” you hum contentedly as you look up at him before continuing, “If anyone ever sees this, I'll kill you," you promise him with an 'I mean it' stare before pulling him back to you, crashing your lips together.
"No one'll see it, doll. I promise. For my eyes only," he says as he nuzzles into you. "You have no idea how much I miss you when I'm gone, baby."
"I think I have some idea," you respond, the sultry tone of your voice effortless as you wrap a leg around him.
It looks like you're about to go for another round, and the thirty minutes left in the video seem to confirm that thought, when Bucky hears the door of the bedroom finally opening.
He quickly closes out of the video, sliding the tablet away from himself before trying to hide and adjust his very obvious erection before you come in.
He clears his throat loudly, a bit awkwardly, as you enter the kitchen, earning a questioning brow from you as you walk toward the pizza box.
"You good?" you ask him as you grab a slice, not bothering with a plate.
He nods a bit too stiffly for your liking as you assess him. His cheeks are a little flush and he can't seem to look you in the eye.
"What did you do?" you question accusatorily.
"Nothing. I'm gonna shower now, if that's alright with you?" he questions haughtily.
You make a face at his tone, rolling your eyes as you turn around to grab a glass for water.
He doesn't mean for it to happen, but as you turn from him, his eyes fall to your ass, and he has to work to stop the groan that threatens to tumble from his lips as his mind replays the video for him.
Fucking creep, he chides himself as his cock twitches again. He takes the opportunity to stand and get to the bathroom as your back is to him.
---
You're on your third piece of pizza when Bucky returns to the kitchen, grabbing a slice for himself.
He's spent the last half hour going over in his mind exactly how you two could have possibly ended up here. He's still confused. And at his wit’s end.
Bucky speaks before he can think better of it.
"Why do you hate me?" he asks, seemingly out of the blue, causing you to turn toward him with quizzical eyes as you swallow your bite.
"Excuse me?" you ask in disbelief.
"Why do you hate me?" he repeats himself, his gaze never faltering as he holds your stare.
You're honestly dumbfounded.
You sputter for a second before attempting to form actual words. "I don't hate you, Bucky," you answer as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. And seeing your future, you were pretty sure it must have been. "I mean, clearly," you add a little embarrassed for yourself.
"No? Then why do you act like you do?"
"I -,” you’re about to deny the accusation, but truthfully, you know he’s right. So you pause before giving the only answer you can come up with. “I don't know. Self-preservation?"
"What the hell does that mean?"
"Defense mechanism. I mean, you've been a complete dick to me since day one, Bucky. Am I supposed to just let you ream me whenever you feel like it - justified or not. And for the record, most of the time, it's not. You treat me differently from everyone else, sidelining me over nothing, questioning my every move, and I don't know why but I stopped trying to figure it out a while ago," you spoke candidly.
He was quiet for a minute as he took in your words. You watched as his brows furrowed, his gaze dropping as he licked his lips mindlessly.
"I'm sorry," he finally said at last. It was soft, but sincere as a pained look seemed to have taken over his face. "I never meant to make you feel that way. But clearly I did. It's just.. you're so stubborn," he says with a shake of his head as his eyes meet yours once again. "I do treat you differently. Because, truthfully, you fucking terrify me. You can be reckless; you act like you're expendable, and you're not. You're the furthest thing from it. I just don't want to see you get hurt. And maybe I was too scared to actually voice that aloud before, but it is the truth. I don't know, I guess, I thought I was keeping you safe somehow, protecting you. And I know you don't need me to. I'm sorry. For being a dick, for interfering when I shouldn't have, and for not talking to you about things before. I am sorry."
You’re silent and quietly awed at his admission, swallowing hard before forcing yourself to break away from his brilliant blue gaze.
"Thank you," you accept, not knowing where to go from here. "Good to know you don't hate me," you add.
"Yeah, same here," he smiles softly. Another moment passes before you speak again, something unspoken growing between you.
"So, just to be clear, was that you admitting that...you like me?" you ask, hearing how juvenile you sound but not really caring all that much.
"That was me admitting that I care about you."
You take a breath and nod, "Oh, okay. So, you don't like me?"
"I didn't say that," he almost scoffs.
"So you do like me?" you ask again with a furrowed brow.
"Jesus, doll," he laughs lightly, "We're married."
"Not yet," you counter.
Bucky walks toward you, pizza long forgotten by you both as he suddenly gets to his knees before you while you stay seated in the chair, his face right about level to yours as you watch him with stilled breath.
His eyes are blazing a fiery blue as he holds your gaze. You have to blink at the intensity.
"I like you," he breathes quietly, careful not to break the soft air of intimacy as you stay so close to each other, earning a small smile from you in turn.
"I told Kate I had a crush on you during recruitment, that's why she always makes comments about us going on missions together so often," you admit unprompted, the urge to tell him the embarrassing secret you'd tried to keep hidden from the moment you let it slip to Kate just overcoming you.
Bucky smiles boyishly at that. "Steve was convinced from the beginning I had a thing for you, that's why we go out on missions together so often."
You can't fight the half smile that adorns your lips at his words, "Was he right?" you question. 
He nods.
"He was right," he whispers as he leans in closer to you. "Does our future not make that obvious?" he teases.
You don't think as you lean into him, one hand finding the back of his head and raking your fingers through the soft, dark brown strands as you breathe a bit heavier with anticipation, you watch as his eyes close at your touch, leaning ever closer. You’re sure he can hear the uptick of your heart as he meets your gaze once again, before your eyes flit to his lips. 
You shrug, a playful tilt to your lips.
"I can think of some other things that might make it more obvious," you murmur as you let your forehead press against his own, waiting for him to close the distance between your lips now.
His hand comes up to gently hold your face before he slowly brushes his lips against yours. 
It's soft and gentle as you kiss him again, but after a moment, one kiss turning into another and then another, your lips press harder against each other, hotter as it intensifies, your hand gripping his hair ever so slightly as he kisses you back just as hard before finally you force yourself to break away.
You shudder a breath as you part, catching your breath, but neither of you drop your hands.
Bucky's thumb gently strokes your cheek as you gaze into one another's eyes. So much unspoken, and yet so much being shared with the look alone.
The ringing of the tablet breaks you two up, though, as a FaceTime call pops up.
The contact is Natasha and seeing her name has you grabbing for the tablet and accepting the call right away.
"Hey," she greets as the sound of a movie playing in the background mingling with the giggles of children and fake cries for help from Steve can be heard just beyond her smoky voice.
"Hey, what's up? Did something happen?" you ask, hoping you don't sound as uncharacteristically panicked as you feel.
"That's what I was gonna ask you two. There a reason your daughter keeps twirling around shouting 'fucking dick' into the air every ten minutes?" She asks.
Your brows raise in surprise as your mouth parts open on nothing.
Bucky titters at the thought of that precious angel twirling around with a mouth like a sailor - a mouth like her mother. He smirks, answering for you.
"Yeah, that'd be thanks to her mother over here."
"Why am I not surprised," Nat responds.
"Sorry, she was mimicking me this morning and we didn't tell her to stop," you grimace. "Hey, can you put them on really quickly?"
"Yeah, that's actually the real reason I called. They wanted to say goodnight before they go to bed," she says as she walks into the living room.
"Linc, El, got some folks who wanna talk to you over here."
Your eyes light up as their perfect little faces fill the screen as Nat holds her phone for them.
When they register it's you and Bucky on screen, they smile brightly, calling out to you both.
"Hi, munchkins," you smile at the screen, Bucky right beside you.
"You guys getting ready for bed?" he asks.
"We're ready, Daddy! Just have to say goodnight to you and Mommy."
"Yeah we have to say goodnight so - and then we can sleep,"
You chuckle as Lincoln rubs his tired eyes.
"But I miss you Mommy," he pouts at the screen.
"'S okay, Linc," Ellie says as she takes her brother's hand, comforting him easily. You swear you're on the verge of tears as you smile at the sweetness.
"Sweetheart, I miss you, too. We miss both of you very much. But you guys are gonna have so much fun tomorrow! And we'll see you so soon, I promise. You two be good and listen to your Aunt and Uncle, okay? Oh, and Ellie,” her eyes widen as you say her name, looking attentively at your face on screen, “let's keep 'fucking dick' just an at home thing, alright?"
She giggles at your words but nods, "Okay, Mommy."
"Alright, goodnight you two," you say softly, not sure you’re ready to call it a night with them knowing what tomorrow is promised to bring.
"Goodnight, Mommy. I love you," they respond in unison.
"I love you more."
"Daddy's turn!" Linc calls for his father.
"Goodnight, Daddy," he says when Bucky leans further into the frame before you hand him the tablet to hold completely.
"Goodnight, Daddy," Ellie smiles.
"I love you," they say, again in unison. The sound is the cutest thing you've ever heard.
"Goodnight, guys. I love you more," he finishes with a soft, almost sad smile of his own before they run off the couch and chase Steve out of the room with the other kids. Nat offers you both a goodnight and a happy anniversary, parting with a wink before she hangs up.
"Those are ours," you say after a moment, astonishment lacing your tone.
"Yeah," Bucky chuckles. "We made those little punks."
"Ya know, I don't think we did too bad considering it's our first day."
"No, we were great. Naturals. They had absolutely no clue we'd never known them before today."
You laugh at that before the silence grows between you again. It's not something unusual for you guys, but the hot tension mounting in this moment in particular certainly is.
Bucky is still kneeling beside you, his large hand settled on your thick, plush thigh.
You scoot back, your weight pushing the chair. The movement allows his hand to smooth over your skin, sending sparks through you and raising goosebumps under his touch.
You try to pretend that it didn't send sparks alight in your belly as you move back further and stand, Bucky turning his gaze to follow your movements.
The sight of him on his knees before you, looking up at you with those devout blue eyes, it has your stomach fluttering as you take a deep breath.
He stands after a second, towering over you once again, somehow even closer now as you look up at him.
"What now?" you whisper.
"That's up to you, doll," he responds, voice lower than you've heard it before, his warmth radiating off of him and into you.
You see his hand twitch by his side, like he's holding himself back from reaching out and touching you again.
"Well," you swallow, "they said it's our anniversary, right?"
"Mhm,"
You raise your brows, shrugging the tiniest bit as you nervously lick your lips.
"You wanna celebrate?" you ask, your voice a little tight and heady as you flick your gaze back up to the darkening oceans of his eyes.
His lips crash into yours without another word, his speed catching you off guard as you gasp into his mouth. Bucky lifts you up like you weigh absolutely nothing and your legs circle around him as he holds you up, his lips never ceasing as he walks you out of the kitchen.
You only part to catch your breath, your forehead against his as he strides into the bedroom, your heavy breaths intermingling. Your hands are in his hair as your arms are wrapped around his neck.
He sets you down on the bed before backing away, granting you space you didn't ask for. You look at him, clearly not happy with the distance he'd put between you. Before you can say anything, Bucky speaks first.
"Are you sure you wanna do this?" he asks intensely.
You look at him for a moment, hoping he can see the sincerity in your eyes. "If I'm being completely honest, Bucky, I've wanted you from the moment I met you. I wanna do this," you answer him. "I'm sure. Are you?"
Bucky pulls off his shirt as you breathe a sigh of relief, a soft titter escaping you as you watch him. He steps closer to you, taking your face in his hold, kissing you deeply. “I’m more than sure,” he speaks against your lips before pushing you back on the bed. The move has a scene playing in his mind and has him hesitating from going further as shame creeps up on him.
“I-,” he squeezes his eyes shut as he thinks through what he’s about to admit to, “I need to tell you something first.”
“What?” you ask, worry clear in your voice.
“I, well.. Hold on,” he says before getting up and leaving you sitting on the bed confused and concerned. 
Bucky returns with the tablet in hand as you eye him.
He looks like a kid about to confess his wrongdoings, eyes down on the tablet as he approaches you slowly.
“I, uh. I came across this, and.. Uhm,” he clears his throat, “I,” he takes a heavy breath, “I.. watched.. it.” he says stuntedly. “Well, not all of it, but more than I should have..”
You’re confused as he hands the tablet over to you, but take it with a quirked brow.
An image of Bucky shirtless is on the screen and you trepidatiously hit the play button, wondering what the video could possibly be. 
Your eyes go wide as you see yourself on the bed in lingerie, Bucky sporting nothing more than a pair of tight boxers. You look up at Bucky still standing before you as a blush grows on his cheeks. You watch, still wide eyed as it goes on. You’re on your back, Bucky leaning over you, and god help you, there’s a tingling in your core growing as you look on.
“No way,” you say in disbelief as it suddenly connects in your mind, eyes flicking back and forth between him and to the screen. “Is this-? Did we-? And you watched it?” you ask, scandalized as your gaze shoots back up to him. 
He rubs the back of his neck self consciously, avoiding your gaze. “I know,” he says sheepishly - you’ve never seen him like this and it’s honestly a little entertaining, a bit endearing. ���I’m-” your moan coming from the speaker cuts him off and grabs your attention as you look back down at the screen, mouth going dry as your core is anything but. 
“Fuck,” you breathe as you watch Bucky on his knees, between your legs. You almost stop breathing before you look away, catching yourself and pausing the video. “Uhm. Well, that’s- this is.. Unexpected. I mean, obviously we- they- have.. sex, but, a sex tape?”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have watched it, especially not as far as I did, and I just-”
“How far did you watch?” you ask, cutting him off.
You watch as he swallows hard before sitting down next to you, taking the tablet and scrolling to about the point he had stopped when he closed the video.
“Twenty five minutes?” you ask with a light laugh, looking at the time stamp, the screen paused on a still of you pulling him down on top of your naked body. 
“I’m sorry,” he says again, clearly ashamed of himself. You can’t help but laugh, loving how remorseful he seems.
“‘S’okay,” you say with a light shake of your head, pulling the tablet from his hand and locking the screen, tossing it on the opposite side of the bed. It’s not until you straddle his lap that he looks at you finally, his hands coming up without thought to hold your waist. His eyes twinkle with something akin to wonder. “I get it, can’t blame you,” you admit, your arms draped over his broad shoulders before slipping them behind his neck. “It’s hot,” you speak sultrily, leaning closer to him, allowing your lips to brush his briefly.
His eyes fall to your lips as he breathes headily, pulling you flush to him as he holds you tighter. “You think?”
“Mhm,” you nod, your chest brushing against his bare one with your every breath before you finally let yourself kiss him once again, your noses brushing against one another. 
His arms still holding you, Bucky turns you both onto the bed, ending up above you as you continue your soft makeout. His hands wander your body, touching and squeezing your softness lightly as you sigh under him, your hands wandering his body in turn. You feel like a teenager, experiencing something you’d only thought about in the far recesses of your mind for the first time, it’s intimate and exciting and you don’t even care to take this any further, your focus only on feeling each other, on being this close.
The ringing of the tablet, though, breaks through the moment. You glance over as Bucky continues kissing you, his lips on your neck as you try to read the screen - but it’s too far and out of your reach.
“Bucky,” you urge him, causing him to finally break away from you, turning to look at who was calling. 
His eyes squint as he sits up, reaching for the tablet and answering the call.
“Steve?” he answers in question. 
“Hey, sorry to interrupt, Buck. Linc’s having a hard time going to sleep, he wanted to talk to you again, I told him I’d give you a call.”
“Yeah, yeah, put him on,” he responds.
There’s a sniffle before Lincoln’s soft voice comes through the speaker, “Daddy?”
“Hey, buddy, it’s me. What’s going on, having trouble sleeping?” he asks, sitting up more attentively as you watch him.
“Miss you,” Lincoln answers solemnly, you can imagine him rubbing at his teary eyes already as you hear him sniffle again, your heart clenching at the image. “I need Wolfie, Daddy. You forgot to bring Wolfie,” you can hear his pout over the line.
“I’m sorry, pal,” Bucky apologizes sincerely, despite neither of you having had any knowledge of “Wolfie” being a necessity. “How ‘bout we bring you Wolfie?” he asks before looking over to you briefly.
“Yeah, can you bring him to me please, Daddy?” he puffs.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll bring him right now, buddy. Don’t worry, we’ll be there soon, I promise.”
“Okay,” he says, voice wobbly. “Love you, Daddy,” he adds breathily on a huff, sounding on the very verge of tears. 
“I love you, too, buddy. We’ll be right there.”
“He’s on his way, champ,” Steve says as he takes it off speaker, bringing the phone back to his ear. “Sorry, guys,” he offers to you both.
“Don’t worry about it, we were just, uh,... hangin’ out,” he says, scrunching his face at his own stupid response as you give him a ‘what the hell’ look, your hand gesturing of its own accord.
“Oh-kay,” Steve says at the odd response, “What is up with you guys today?”
“Uhhh,”
“Wait, don’t tell me.. Are you guys expecting again?” he asks, voice hushed.
“Yeah,” Bucky answers stupidly on an exhale, your mouth dropping while you gawk at him. 
“Really?” 
“No,” Bucky answers quickly again, “I mean, maybe. We don’t- we’re not sure. We don’t know,” he tries to remedy his previous baseless answer. “Look, I have to find Wolfie, so I’ll see ya in a minute.” He doesn’t wait for Steve to respond before he ends the call on his end.
“What the fuck was that?” you say on a titter.
His face is in his hands as he sits on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, “I don’t know.” His response is muffled by his hands as you crawl over to him, pushing on his back to make him stand up.
“Go get the wolf,” you say as you push on him.
As he stands, you get off the bed, too, throwing his shirt at him before he turns to the door. 
“Ya know, you’d think you’d be better at this,” you taunt, earning a glare from him as he heads to the kid’s room down the hall. 
“Can you go start the car?” he huffs as you watch him walk away.
You stifle a laugh through your nose, “Mhm,” you answer before heading down the hall yourself, grabbing the keys on your way out.
As you turn to close the front door, you’re surprised as Bucky’s already behind you, the plush white wolf in hand. 
“You’re so slow,” he teases, taking the keys from your hand while you blink up at him, a smirk on his face as he passes you while you just watch, your turn to huff. 
“Dick,” you accuse as you follow him, his smirk only growing at your insult before he gets to the passenger door, holding it open for you to get in.
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
nereidprinc3ss · 5 months
Note
omg i'm obsessed with the idea of spencer and a university student and i looooved the one you wrote with reader struggling with finals (i relate so much </3) i'm not sure if you write requests or not (if not, then i'm sorry and please ignore this hahaha) but i would love to see more of their dynamic? maybe spencer for once arrives earlier from a case and goes to pick up reader from university as a surprise? i don't really know but i would love to see more 💗 thank you and i hope you have a good day!
AHHHH omg you have NO IDEA how excited I was to open my inbox and see a request!! i am absolutely obsessed w spencer x uni student too
i kind of took this and ran w it so its a little angsty and random LOLOL but here is (drumroll)
spencer picking up reader after you fail an exam (sorry lol) and you are NOT in a good mood but he loves you so its fine
Tears, partly from the bitter wind and partly from shame, blur your phone screen as you exit the lecture hall. Another missed call from Spencer. It’s the third one today—you've been ignoring them in an attempt to remain focused on the final that you just bombed. Part of you now wants to keep ignoring them out of sheer embarrassment. How can you admit to your super-genius boyfriend that you are a bona fide academic failure? Still, you don’t want him wondering about you while he should be working. Your numb fingers fumble with the phone as you try to call him back without running into anybody on your walk back to student housing. 
It doesn’t reach the second ring before he’s picking up. 
“Hey,” he sighs. “I was starting to worry.” 
“I’m sorry, I’ve been busy,” you exhale, cutting through some trees as you approach your building. “What’s up? How’s the case?” 
“Well... that’s actually what I’ve been calling about. We wrapped up this morning.” 
“What? But last night you said it would be at least three more days.” 
“Rare instance of me being wrong, I guess.” 
“So when are you flying back?” you ask, not wanting to get your hopes up. You know sometimes his team stays behind to help with processing a case. He doesn’t reply for a moment. “Spencer?” 
“I’m... thirteen minutes away from your school. Twelve.” 
Your brain short-circuits as you process his words, the cold metal of the door handle biting into your fingers as you stop dead in your tracks. 
“You--are you driving here right now?” 
“Yes,” he begins, sounding embarrassed, “I kept calling because I wanted to ask first, but I know you had your last final this morning and you were going to come over when I got back anyway so I thought you might want to come stay with me for a few extra days. You can say no, obviously—” 
Some of the icy despair melts in your chest. 
“Of course, I want to.” 
“Good,” he exhales a laugh. “It would have been awkward if you said no. Can you have a bag packed by the time I get there?” 
You’re speedwalking through the lobby now, hitting the up button for the elevator more times than is necessarily effective. 
“Drive faster.” 
“Yes, ma’am.” 
By the time you blindly shove enough clothing in a bag, text your roommate to let her know you’ll be gone for the rest of the week, and make it back outside, Spencer’s familiar vintage car is already pulling up to the curb. He doesn’t even bother cutting the engine—just puts it in park and gets out, rounding the vehicle as you close the distance between one another. His smile is brilliant, and though you don’t feel particularly deserving of it, it’s for you. 
“Hi,” you breathe shakily as he loops his arms around your waist. 
“Hi, pretty,” he says, already leaning down to kiss you. It’s soft and sweet over too quickly, but then he’s gently pulling you into him. You drop your bag and bury your face in his jacket, trying to right yourself before you go into an emotional tailspin. 
As usual, he smells like lavender, clove, resinous amber. It makes your head spin. Right away you feel yourself relaxing; feel your guard slipping, like it always does when he’s around. 
“I missed you.” The words are quiet to begin with, muffled further by the fabric of his coat, but you know he’ll hear you. 
“I missed you too,” he murmurs, stroking your hair. “Everything okay?” 
Why are you always surprised when a man who works for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI accurately analyzes your behavior? 
“Just tired. Can we go home?” You pull back enough to look up at him, meeting his fond—and just a little concerned—gaze, averting your eyes before he has time to discern your... omission of truth. 
“Yeah, angel. Of course we can.” 
He opens the passenger side door for you, making sure you’re settled before tossing your bag in the back seat and circling around the back of the car. 
“Is that coffee?” You say as soon as he slides into the driver’s seat. His eyes dart down to the tumbler in the center cupholder as he buckles. 
“It’s from the jet. You won’t like it.” 
Despite his warning you reach over to grab it, taking a small sip as he puts the car into gear and pulls out of the parking lot. You make a sour face. Spencer glances over. 
“I told you it was bad.” 
You yawn, putting it back in the cupholder. “It was worth a shot.” 
Jazz music plays quietly from the speakers and the heat is blasting, but you’re too busy mentally rehashing question 37 to find it relaxing. 
“You didn’t get enough sleep last night,” he states. Not a question. Outside, the brick buildings of your campus roll by. You wonder if all the students rushing about on the sidewalks and side streets failed any of their finals.  
“Couldn’t,” you mumble flatly, picking at your nails.  
There’s a moment’s pause, and you’re imagining all the things you could have done differently. You’ve never failed a final before. If you’d just studied a little bit harder—if you’d stayed in instead of going out last weekend, if you weren’t so— 
“I’m going to ask you something, and I don’t think you’re going to like it,” Spencer says. 
“Mhm,” you hum, too afraid to speak because your eyes are already stinging again. Honestly, you’re surprised you made it this far without him getting the truth out of you. He offers his hand across the console as you slink down in your seat, and you take it, allowing him to run his thumb over yours in soothing lines. 
“How do you think your final went?” 
You bite the inside of your cheek, the bare branches of the trees outside blurring as you stare unseeingly. 
“Not good. Like, I definitely failed, not good. I'm an idiot.” 
“You absolutely are not an idiot.” 
“You didn’t see me taking the test, Spencer. I literally just sat there staring at it for ten minutes before I even answered one question. It was pathetic.” 
“Did you sleep at all last night?” 
The question takes you by surprise. Your frown deepens. 
“What? I don’t—that’s not—" 
“Just answer the question. Did you sleep at all last night?” 
“Yes!” 
“Don't lie to me.” 
“Fuck you! I slept for like two hours and had coffee this morning!”  
He squeezes your hand. 
“That’s why you failed.” 
The first tear traces its path down your cheek, composure overwhelmed by the confrontation. 
“I hate when you use your stupid interrogation tactics on me,” you say, voice wobbling. And then the crying begins in earnest. 
“I know, baby.” 
His hand moves to rub your back when you let go to cover your face. Torrential evidence of your frustration and utter exhaustion well over, slipping through your fingers despite your best efforts to stop them from coming at all. Having an emotional breakdown in the passenger seat of his car is far from how you’d wanted to greet Spencer’s surprise arrival, but you’re too worn out to mask your emotions—especially when he is so adept at drawing them to the surface. 
A moment passes like that before you take a shuddering breath, raising your head slightly and wiping your cheeks with your sleeves in vain. 
“I should have been able to do it. I just—it was like I was reading the questions and I knew that I should know the answers, but I couldn’t remember anything.” 
“You’re exhausted. Sleep deprivation has an immediate, devastating effect on cognitive functioning levels. My recall and processing speed start to fail when I’m tired, too. It has nothing to do with how smart you are.” 
It makes sense—but it doesn’t make you feel much better. You wanted to ace this exam. Of course, Spencer wouldn’t understand because school was as easy as breathing for him. He barely had to try to get three doctorates. It’s possible, you suppose, that dating a genius has put an academic chip on your shoulder—maybe you’ve set impossibly high standards for yourself.  
After a few minutes the crying finally ebbs, if only because you’re running into supply and demand problems with your tear ducts. You rub your weepy eyes on your shoulder, leaning against the cold window and watching DC go by. 
“You know, the final isn’t as important as you think it is. You’ll still pass the class.” 
“It’s symbolic,” you mumble, breath fogging up the glass. Spencer hums, still rubbing your back. 
“I know. I know it matters to you, but I don’t want you to think one bad grade is a reflection of who you are. Do you understand why it doesn’t make sense to measure something as abstract as intelligence by a metric as one dimensional as a standardized test?” 
“Yes.” 
“Good.” 
You shift in your seat, wiping your face with your sleeve and prompting Spencer to take your other hand once more. 
“Can your FBI friend hack the university database and give me an A?” you ask after a moment, sniffling. 
“Absolutely not.” 
“Pretty please?” 
“Nope.” 
“It’s like you don’t even love me,” you mutter, angling yourself away from him.  
He pulls your hand toward him and presses a kiss to the back of it. 
“I love you so much that I don’t want you to get expelled for academic dishonesty.” 
“It doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll probably just drop out.” 
You both know you’re just being overdramatic, but Spencer has a tendency to be sweet even when you don’t deserve it. 
“I’ll love you no matter what you do.” 
You blush, unable to come up with a sufficient reply. His eyes slide to you briefly and he smirks, clearly enjoying his ability to fluster you, and by extension, get you to shut up. 
“Eyes on the road, genius,” you grumble. But for the first time today you’re fighting a smile instead of tears. 
752 notes · View notes
surftrips · 4 months
Note
Maybe you could do single dad jj maybank he’s in college and has to do a project with the reader and has to bring the baby with them and they bond and start to hang out a lot then they start to date also maybe she’s a single mom I feel like that would be like a unique thing
thank you so much for this request! i hope you don't mind that i switched it up a bit (and got carried away lol) but reader is the single mom here and her and jj have known each other their whole lives :)
when you know, you know
pairing: jj maybank x reader
summary: y/n needs a babysitter and jj is the only person available.
word count: 3.5k
Tumblr media
"Okay, I understand. Thanks, anyway," you sighed, running your hands through your hair and hanging up the phone. Your babysitter had just canceled on you, and the timing could not have been worse. 
You had been planning this night for months. Between your classes, a part-time job, and taking care of your 2-year-old Margo, it was nearly impossible to schedule anything. But you desperately needed a night out and your friend Emma had so kindly offered to set you up on a blind date. 
You scrolled through your contacts list, looking for anyone that was sober on a Friday night, a seemingly impossible task. Glancing at the time, you realized that you only had an hour left to find a babysitter and get ready. 
As panic set in, you received a text from the P4L groupchat. 
JJ: Wtw tonight?
Not now JJ, you thought. 
Y/N: Trying to find a babysitter, mine just canceled :/
Kie: Oh no, Y/N!! I'm so sorry :(
Cleo: Sorry babes, I totally wouldd but I already lost count of how many drnks I've had 2nite xxx
JJ: Wait, you guys went out already?
Sarah: JJ, we told you it's a girls night.
JJ: In that case, Y/N, I'll watch Margo! 
Absolutely not, was your first thought. JJ Maybank was probably the last person you wanted to take care of your child, he was practically one himself. 
Besides, since you had Margo, he was always acting weird around you. Before, you two would hang out all the time, but now he only saw you if there was another person there as a buffer. He hardly visited or called, but you were so preoccupied with raising a baby on your own that you hadn't had a chance to talk to him about it. 
In the beginning, people assumed it was his baby you were pregnant with, but you never crossed that line because your friendship meant the world to each other. He was the first person you told when you found out you were going to be a mother, and you remember how excited he was for you. It was hard to believe how distant he had become, and you wondered why he had volunteered himself tonight. 
You assessed the situation: you hadn't gone out in nearly two years, and who knew when the next opportunity would be? You sighed, hardly believing the words you were about to type on your phone. 
Y/N: Ok. How soon can you be here? 
Y/N: You better be sober, JJ. 
You turned your phone off before the others could protest, knowing that half of them were drunk anyway. 
"Uncle JJ is going to come over and watch you tonight, okay? Mommy is going to be gone for just a few hours," you said to your daughter, picking her up and placing her in your eye line so you could do your makeup.
"Jay Jay?" she repeated. 
"Yes, honey," you smiled, trying to reassure her, or yourself. Out of all the pogues, Kiara and Sarah babysat Margo the most. She had probably only met JJ a handful of times and you worried about how well she would do with him alone. 
As if he could read your mind, your phone began ringing and you looked over to see his face on your screen.
"JJ, please don't tell me you're canceling too."
"What? Oh, no, it's not that. I was just wondering if you needed me to bring anything for Margo?" 
"Oh," you relaxed. "Hmmm, I think we have everything we need here. But thank you for asking, JJ."
"Of course," you could hear him smiling on the other line. "You know, thanks for letting me watch Margo. I've been meaning to visit her more." 
"JJ, you know you're weren't my first choice," you teased. "But yeah, of course. Thanks, I owe you." 
You hung up the phone, thoughts from earlier creeping back into your mind. You always assumed that the baby scared JJ away, but sometimes you couldn't help but wonder if there was something more going on. 
However, now was not the time for you to be thinking about this, considering that you now had 30 minutes left until your date showed up and you had yet to pick out a dress.
"Hmmmm, let's see. Any suggestions, Margo?" you asked your daughter, combing through your closet for something appropriate. You settled on a short black dress with a boat neck, and black knee high boots to go along with it. 
"What do we think, sweetie?" you smiled at Margo.
"Pretty!" she clapped her small hands together. 
"Why, thank you, baby. Come on, let's go see if Uncle JJ is here yet," you picked her up and checked your phone for any notifications. 
Blind Date: Be there in 5! :)
Crap, you thought. Where is JJ? 
You shot back a confirmation for your date and looked out the window for any sign of JJ. You weren't sure if he was biking over or he had borrowed the Twinkie, but there was no sign of anyone outside. 
Growing anxious, you gathered Margo's favorite toys and books into the living room and tidied up your apartment to pass the time. 
Exactly 5 minutes later, the doorbell rang. You smoothed down your dress and checked your hair in the mirror one last time. Putting on your best smile, you went to open the door. 
"Hi–" you started. "Oh, it's you." 
"Come on, that's what I get for dropping everything and saving your ass?" JJ responded. 
"Sorry, weren't you the one with no plans on a Friday?" 
"You know, I can just turn around right now-" 
"Stop!" you pleaded. "Okay, sorry, I've been anxious about this all day and I just want to get back to Margo as fast as I can." 
"Relax, Y/N. I'm here now," he took in your appearance. "You look great, by the way." 
The last time he saw you remotely dressed up like this was prom night. 
You couldn't help but blush, looking around for Margo to hide your face. "Margo, look who it is!" 
"Jay Jay!" she babbled. 
"Oh my god, she knows my name!" JJ replied, looking a little perplexed. 
"You know what, I'm surprised too considering she's only met you, like, four times," you said. 
"Alright, you're no fun," he looked at you as you traded your daughter over to his arms. "Miss Margo and I here are going to have the time of our lives. Aren't we?" 
He tickled her, causing her to giggle. She seemed so comfortable in his arms, you wondered why you were ever worried in the first place. 
"Thanks again for doing this, I know we haven't talked in a while-" you started. 
"So, where's the lucky guy?" he interrupted you. 
"Uhh," you looked over at the clock. "He said he would be here by now." 
"Late to the first date? That's a red flag, Y/N." 
"As if you're not a walking red flag, JJ. What did you get here on? Your bike?"
"Hey! I refurbished that bike all on my own! It takes a lot of skill to do that."
Just then, the doorbell rang. You rushed to open the door, a smile plastered on your face again. 
"Hey! You must be Emma's friend! I'm Tom." he greeted you with a hug and a bouquet of flowers. "I'm sorry for being late, I went to get these flowers for you and was distracted by the girl scouts selling cookies outside. I had to support them, you know?" 
"Oh, no worries! Yes, how can you say no to them?" you laughed softly. You took the flowers from him and went to place them on the table closest to you, beckoning him to come in.
"Tom, this is one of my friends, JJ. He's babysitting my daughter, Margo, while we're gone," you said.
"Ah! What a pleasure," Tom went over to shake JJ's hand and politely wave at your daughter. "I promise not to keep your mom out too late tonight." 
"That's right, need her back before midnight," JJ remarked.
You playfully pushed him in response, grabbing your keys. "Alright, you have my number so please call me if you need anything. Bye Margo, mommy loves you!" 
With that, you and Tom headed outside and into his car. 
On the drive over to the restaurant, you learned that Tom was a psychologist, he liked to cook, and reality TV shows were his guilty pleasure. At the restaurant, which was a higher-end place near the water, he pulled out your chair for you. 
"I hope this place is okay, I wasn't sure what kind of food you liked so I thought somewhere nicer would be safe," he said. 
"Oh, this is perfect. Don't even worry about it," you smiled. "I haven't had a proper night out in so long, I wouldn't have minded if you took me to a burger joint." 
He laughed, "Margo is adorable, by the way. How old is she?"
"She's 2," you said. Then, feeling the need to clarify, "I had her when I was 20, at the beginning of my junior year in college."
"I see, how was that? How did you manage classes?" You were surprised at his demeanor, half-expecting him to judge you or run in the opposite direction any second now, but his inquisition was genuine.
"Well, I could still go to classes during the first trimester, but it got more difficult after that so I took a leave of absence. I'm taking night classes now because I work in the mornings." 
"Oh nice, what degree are you going for?"
"English, I want to be a teacher," you explained.
"My mom was a teacher," he smiled. "What age do you want to teach?"
"Oh no way! I want to teach elementary school kids. Everyone always tells me how hard it will be, but raising Margo... I don't love anything more than that." 
"That's really sweet, are you close with your family?"
You paused, trying to figure out how to answer the question. "Depends on who you consider my family, I guess," you laughed awkwardly. "I'm not close with my parents, but my friends? Those are the most important people in my life." 
He smiled, "I understand. I'm glad you have a support system, being a single mother can be hard." 
"Yeah, I'm super grateful. Actually, my babysitter for tonight canceled last-minute and JJ came to the rescue. I don't know what I would've done without him." 
Tom's smile faltered for an unnoticeable second. "How long have you known him for?"
"JJ? My whole life, probably. I can't imagine a time when he wasn't by my side. He was there for me throughout my entire pregnancy, but after..." you trailed off.
"After...?"
"Afterwards," you hesitated, not wanting to bad-mouth your friend. "I guess he started to distance himself more, I think Margo scared him away honestly."
"You think it was Margo and nothing else?"
"What do you mean?"
"I just mean," he sighed. "Do you think there could be any other reason why he would be so supportive of you before and not after you had Margo?" 
"I-I'm not sure. I haven't had much time to think about it, I guess."
"You want my opinion?" Tom asked. You searched his face for any sign of spitefulness, but came up empty. 
"I saw the way he looked at you and Margo, earlier. That boy is not scared of either of you. In fact, all I saw was love. Did you ever think he’s grappling with those feelings?” 
"His feelings? For me?" It was not the first time you thought about it, but it was the first time you heard it verbalized. 
"Yes, I know I sound crazy, but seriously, Y/N, what other reason could there be to explain his behavior?"
You racked your brain for all the possible explanations. Tom had a point, if JJ had feelings for you at some point in your friendship, or still does, he might feel the need to distance himself to protect you. 
"Why are you telling me all this?"
"I told you, I'm a psychologist. I notice these things," he smiled.
"Is this how all of your first dates go?" you laughed.
"Not all of them, but I’ll admit, a few are like this. But tell me, am I wrong to assume there was something more going on between you two before you got pregnant?"
You sighed, "No, you're not wrong. Our feelings for each other were a truth that neither of us wanted to confront. We were young, we didn't want to be tied down, it was college. But he was always there, by my side, through everything. Of course, I loved him." 
"Well, there you go. There's your answer." 
Tom dropped you off around midnight. You assured him that there was no need to walk you to your door, you both knew that you needed to have a conversation with JJ.
"Thank you again for tonight, we seriously need to meet up again," you said, before shutting your door.
"Absolutely, I'll give you the address to my office," he joked.
You turned the key into your door as quietly as possible, in case JJ was also asleep with Margo. Inside, the lights were off and you pulled out your phone flashlight to search for him. 
You went into Margo's room first, seeing that she was fast asleep in her crib. "Hi baby," you whispered. "Where's Uncle JJ?" 
After making sure she was tucked in properly, you turned to go into your bedroom. Sure enough, there was JJ, fast asleep in your bed. 
You couldn't help but smile, recalling memories from high school when you two would have sleepovers. Being sure to keep quiet, you changed into your pajamas and got ready for bed.
Trying your best to not wake up JJ, you pulled open the blanket on your side of the bed and slipped in next to him. 
"Goodnight, JJ," you whispered. 
In the morning, you woke up to the smell of pancakes in the kitchen. For a second, you weren't sure you were even in your apartment, remembering that you live alone with Margo and surely, you weren't asleep long enough for her to know her way around the kitchen.
But then you remembered that JJ was babysitting last night and had fallen asleep in your bed before you got home. 
After a long stretch, you got up and went into the kitchen.
"There she is, good morning pretty," JJ smiled at you. 
"Morning... When did you learn how to cook?" you questioned.
"What do you mean? I've always known how to make pancakes."
"Okay, that is just a straight up lie. In high school you would have chips for breakfast."
JJ put his hand to his chest, taking mock offense. "If you must know, I started teaching myself how to cook last year when I moved off-campus." 
"Wow, I must say, I am impressed, Mr. Maybank."
"Please, that's my father. You can call me JJ," he said, causing you both to laugh. 
Were his eyes always this blue? You thought, as you admired his features in the morning light. 
After a moment, you broke the silence. "Uh- I better go check on Margo. How was she last night, by the way?"
"Oh, amazing. Best kid ever." 
"Really? She didn't give you a hard time at all?"
"Nope, must have remembered me from when she was in the womb."
You smiled, turning around to your daughter's room.
Sure enough, Margo was sleeping like the baby she was. You checked the clock, she wouldn't be up for at least another hour.
"Margo's still in one piece?" JJ asked when you reentered the kitchen.
"Yes, somehow,” you mused. 
"Good, want to try these pancakes now?"
"Yes, please, I'm starving," you sat down across from JJ.
"Starving? Your date didn't feed you last night?"
"Very funny, if you want to know about my date, you can just ask." 
"Okay, how was your date?" he relented. 
"He's a psychologist." 
"Cool, anything else?" JJ looked slightly confused. 
"He was very normal and nice," you added.
“I would hope so.”
“Yes, and he likes to cook too.”
“That’s great, how was the date itself?”
“Oh the date itself…” you trailed off. 
"Y/N, why are you acting weird?"
"Weird? Me? I'm just telling you about my date." 
"You're talking about him like he's your therapist."
"Well, in a way, it was like a therapy session."
"So the date went bad?"
"No, it was really nice." 
JJ looked around the kitchen, "Did I accidentally put something in the pancake batter to make you act like this or...?" 
"These are great, by the way," you said, pointing to the pancakes with your fork.
"Thanks, but can we get back to the date?" 
"Oh, yeah, well, basically," you started. 
"Y/N." JJ was rarely ever serious, but he was starting to look concerned with you. 
"Okay, fine. It started off really well, we got to know each other. Then, he was asking about Margo and my family, and I told him about my parents, you know. Then he asked about you, and I told him I've known you forever, but after Margo, you started distancing yourself and we haven't seen or talked to each other in a while, and then-" you rambled. 
"Then what?"
"And then, he told me, or rather he made me realize, that maybe we need to address the feelings we may or may not have had for each other before I got pregnant," you finished in a rush.
JJ was silent, you weren't sure if the expression on his face was scared or bemused. 
"JJ, please say something." 
"Was that all?"
"More or less."
He sighed, "Y/N, I think one of the reasons why our friendship worked so well was because we both knew that at any moment, we could pursue something more, but we didn't. We both knew that doing that would ruin our friendship, something we've had for nearly twenty years. I thought college was going to be four years of partying and distractions, but instead, I had to face reality”
“Distractions?”
“Everyone that wasn’t you was a distraction, in case that wasn’t clear.”
“Uh, no. It wasn't, actually. JJ, you kept telling me you were trying to meet ‘the one!’” 
“Well, I was lying! Okay? You were always the one for me. I just didn’t feel like I was the one for you. So I was stupid and I decided we would be better off as friends, but when you got pregnant…” 
“When I got pregnant…?”
“When you told me about Margo, I panicked. I knew you were strong enough to do this on your own, but you shouldn’t have had to. I told myself that I was going to be there for you every step of the way, and I was, until you gave birth. I saw Margo for the first time, and I-I’m sorry. I just couldn’t do it.”
“Do what, JJ? You know I never needed you to be her father.” 
“I know, I know. I saw her and I couldn’t imagine hurting her. I didn’t want her to know me, because to know me is to be disappointed by me,” he sighed.
“JJ,” you stood up now to wrap your arms around him. “Are you kidding me? I was never, never disappointed by you. I was just worried, babe, that’s all. You stopped talking to me after that.” 
JJ allowed himself to fall into your arms. “I’m sorry, it just felt like too much at the time. I loved- love you and Margo so much, that I didn’t know what to do with all of it. So I thought it was best to give you some space, until I was better.”
You chuckled, “Is that why you taught yourself how to cook?”
“Stop, I was actually starving and had no choice.”
“And are you better now?”
“When I heard you were going on a date, do you want to know what I thought?”
“What?”
“I thought, I let her go again. I let you go a million times in college, and here I am, letting you go again.” 
When you didn’t say anything, he continued, “You’re the one for me, Y/N. I came over here tonight to show you that. I’m ready for whatever this is going to be, whatever this friendship evolves into. I spent too much time denying the truth, and I think you have too.” 
There were not enough words to describe how you were feeling, so you leaned in to kiss your best friend. JJ held your face with such gentleness, you wondered if this was all in your imagination. 
Eventually, you pulled away. “I’m done lying, to myself and to each other. This is real, yes?” you asked.
“Yes, I love you, really.”
“I love you too, Maybank.” 
You leaned in for a second time, but not before you heard the familiar cries of Margo in the other room. 
“Don’t worry, I got it,” he smiled with that boyish grin of his that you loved so much. That you have always loved. 
695 notes · View notes
fangirlika · 1 year
Note
Hello! I don't know if you're up to writing smut (if not you can just ignore it haha), but maybe you could write something about reader not being very experienced and Charles, for teaching purposes, offers her some private lessons/tutoring, letting her do whatever she wants to him? Not in super kinky way, just getting to know his body and kind of exploring it ^^
sweet and hot at the same time, we love to see it! Loved the “for teaching purposes” hahaha Thank you for your request, I hope you like it!
Learning Hours
MASTERLIST
pairing: Charles Leclerc x female!reader
summary: you and Charles have been friends for a long time, however, the sexual tension between the two of you was there pretty much since the beginning. It was just that Charles, in contrast to you, was a lot more experienced. Time to share the knowledge, right?
warnings: nsfw, smut, porn with a little plot lol, oral (m receiving), typos probably
a/n: I got carried away with this ahhh I hope you enjoy it
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Oh come on, Y/n!”, Charles said as he sat on your bed, his head leaning against the headboard. “When was the last time you got laid? Last weekend?”
For context, the two of you somehow ended up in a conversation about how often the other one had sex over the past year. It was a joke, a lighthearted conversation between you guys.
You and Charles had been friends for what felt like a lifetime, hence, you were comfortable with him no matter what topic you were talking about.
In Charles' case it was no secret that he had his fair share of one night stands, girls he was seeing for a longer time and also two actual relationships over the past years. You couldn’t blame any of the girls he was with, that man is too gorgeous for his own good.
You on the other hand, never participated in the so-called hook up culture. You never blamed anyone who did, in fact you couldn’t care less, but you never felt comfortable enough to just go home with someone after a night-out or to meet someone online.
You’re not a virgin though. No, you had that one boyfriend, he later turned out to be a total douche, but for the time being, he was good enough to show you the basics in bed - never something crazy or actually anything but boring missionary sex where you’ve almost never really gotten off.
Sometimes, your inexperience made you a little shy and talking about your sex life has never been a preferred topic for you. So you just scoffed in fake annoyance and replied: “Sure, and I assume that you just came back from yet another poor girl's house?”
Charles put his hand over his heart to feign hurt. “Wow, ma chérie, that was personal”, he said but couldn’t help but chuckle a little. But then he looked at you again and the look on his face was nothing but curious. “But seriously, when was the last time? You never went home with someone after we went out together and as far as I know there are no dating apps on your phone…”, he thought out loud.
You didn’t like where this conversation was going. The last thing you wanted this afternoon was to admit to your guy best friend that you haven’t gone further than kissing a guy at a bar ever since you broke up with your ex-boyfriend, Charles never liked him anyways.
“So?”, you simply replied and tried to look as indifferent to the conversation as you possibly could.
Charles seemed to be able to connect the dots on his own, one could practically see the gears turning inside his head. “You’re telling me you haven’t had any sex since that excuse of a boyfriend?” Charles looked almost shocked.
You just rolled your eyes, really wanting to end this conversation. “I never told you anything like that”, you hugged out in annoyance.
“But, I’m right, am I not?”, Charles said, now there was a cocky grin on his face which just annoyed you even more. Of course he would find humor in this. It’s not to humiliate you, you know that, but between you two and also Pierre and some other friends teasing comments like these were very common.
You don’t know why but today you did not want to be on the receiving end of these remarks. “Okay, you are”, you said and moved your eyes down to the strings of your hoodie you were absentmindedly playing around with. “Are you happy now?”
Charles immediately noticed the shift from your relaxed and sarcastic state to seeming uncomfortable in the situation you two were in. Quickly, he stumbled out an apology: “N-no, I didn’t mean it like that. There is nothing wrong with not doing it often, nothing wrong with being inexperienced or… or-“
“Just drop it, Charles”, you sighed. “I know that I could go home with someone when we go out, but quite frankly, I don’t really want to.”
“That is fine! There is no shame in that, really, please, I didn’t want to make you feel bad about yourself”, Charles continued to ramble. He always did that when he was nervous or embarrassed, you couldn’t deny that it was kind of cute.
“No, it’s not that. I think it’s just that my inexperience keeps me from doing it, or something like that”, you said quietly.
“How does that make sense?”, Charles asked in confusion but put his hand up in defense when he saw your annoyed glance at him.
“I don’t know…”, you danced around the answer. “My ex and I we never really did anything… new in bed.” It took everything in you to admit the truth to Charles. “I guess I just don’t want to embarrass myself when I’d actually end up in bed with someone…”
Charles listened attentively and turned his head to look at you with a smile. You still avoided his gaze and casted your eyes downwards but he still noticed the faint reddening of your cheeks. God, you were so cute.
“You can practice on me if you want.”
Your eyes widened and you abruptly turned your head to look at Charles. “What?”
Charles didn’t really think before he said it. It just came to his mind. But when he took a second to actually think about it, he just shrugged. “Why not? We have know each other forever and I promise you won’t embarrass yourself.”
You also thought about it. Was it really a good idea? Definitely not. But then again, why not try it?
“I don’t know, Charles…”, you sighed. “I wouldn’t want it to ruin our friendship, you know?”
Charles nodded understandingly. It was the last thing he wanted as well. He knew it was a thin line they were moving on but if it could help her, he would do anything. “It doesn’t have to”, he said. “We only go as far as you are comfortable with, nothing more.”
You listened and nodded slowly.
“It’s only for learning purposes”, he smirked and when you saw his face you couldn’t help but smile too, shaking your head a little. This was insane, wasn’t it?
“I’ll teach you how to make a man feel good and you can try anything as well, okay?”, Charles searched your eyes for permission.
“Okay”, you whispered and looked him in the eyes.
The two of you stared at each other for a long time but then Charles slowly leaned his head forward into your direction. He held his gaze onto yours as to look out for any sign of hesitation from you.
But there was none. So, he closed his eyes and when his lips were just mere centimetres away from yours he stopped for a second. You on the other hand didn’t want to wait any longer so you closed the remaining gap between you two and connected your lips.
Kissing Charles felt different from kissing any other guy you did before. And you weren’t sure if a best friend was supposed to make you feel like this with just a simple kiss.
He moved his hand to your neck and the other one around your back to pull you even closer. You obliged immediately and leaned into him.
Charles swiped his tongue over your lips and you opened them just a little bit so that he could slip his tongue into your mouth. You involuntarily moaned a little which caused Charles to smile into the kiss.
“Keep making those noises, chérie, that’s a great way to turn us on”, he teased but there was truth behind his words - he wanted to hear more of those little sounds from you.
You couldn’t help the heat rising to your cheeks when he said this. “Quit being a smart-ass and take your hoodie off, Leclerc.”
You don’t know where this sudden confidence came from but you somehow wanted to show him that you can make him feel good.
“Bossy, are we?”, Charles continued and only laughed a little at your warning glare. Nevertheless, he leaned away from you a little to take off his hoodie.
His next words were a little muffled because he struggled to get the hoodie over his head for a second: “Don’t worry, it’s ho-“
As he was busy taking his hoodie off he failed to notice that you were doing the same so when he threw it somewhere behind him and turned to look at you again his words got caught in his throat.
You were sitting in front of him only wearing a black bra to cover your boobs. In all of your years of friendship he has seen you wearing a bikini plenty of times and even sometimes he saw you in your underwear, but never in a context like this. He couldn’t help but stare.
You however failed to interpret his staring correctly and so you felt your insecurity rise up back again. You were about to bring your arms up and around your chest to cover up a little again but Charles immediately took ahold of your wrists.
“Non, none of that, you look beautiful”, he muttered and tried to reassure you with one of his gorgeous smiles. You were sure you would melt if he kept looking at you like that during all this.
“Can I kiss you again?”, he asked but already pulled you into him by your wrists. You simply nodded before your lips were on his again, this time a little sloppier and less sensual. But still, it knocked the air out of your lungs.
Maybe you would regret it later but there was no space in your mind to think about the consequences of your current actions right now. Everything you though or felt in this moment, was him.
Charles laid down and pulled you with him so that you were now laying on top of his upper body. You moved one of your legs over his waist so that you were straddling him. Your lips stayed connected the entire time.
The confidence came back to you as you pulled away from his lips only to press a soft kiss to his jaw, then just below his ear and a few on his neck. This wasn’t new for you but it still gave you reassurance when you heard Charles letting out a shaky breath and a quiet moan.
Charles moved his hands down your back to your hips, squeezing the skin there lightly.
“Are you okay with taking off your sweatpants, let me see you?”, he muttered when you continued to litter his neck with soft kisses.
You nodded and felt his hands make their way past the hem of your pants. You lifted your hips slightly to help him get them over your ass and down to your knees. You sat up to pull them off completely, causing you to sit on top of him in nothing but your black underwear.
The movement caused you to grind a little on his crotch, which you didn’t even take notice of until you heard him curse some word in French under his breath and felt him tighten his grip on your hips again.
“Oh, sor-“, you were about to apologise but Charles cut you off by shaking his head at you. “Don’t, it feels good but I really need you to do something about it”, he said with a smirk on his face. He tried to make you more comfortable and confident.
Charles moved his hands up your back a little to pull you down to his level again. “O-okay”, you just replied hesitantly. Charles noticed, looked at you and brought his right hand up to caress your cheek. “We can stop here if you don’t want to, continue some other time or we just forget about it but-“, you cut him off.
“No”, you said and shook your head. Smiling at him before you leaned down to his lips again. It was rough, both of you moving your lips against each other messily.
“Can I suck you off?”, you asked him between kisses, the sheer innocence in your voice making him crazy. “Shit”, he muttered under his breath, “yes, okay, yes.”
You grinned and gave his lips a quick peck before you lifted your head away from his and dragged your lips down his chest. “But, you have to guide me, I- I’ve never-“
“I got you, mon amour.”
You felt a jolt of heat rush down your body at his words. You knew Charles was sweet, he was a good guy but somehow you always thought that when it came to sex, he was more rough and rushed. But you appreciated him reassuring you.
You got off him for a moment so that he could take off his sweatpants as well. What you weren’t expecting though was that he also took off his boxers in one go, freeing his cock from its restraints. It was already semi-hard.
He was big. Were your first thoughts. Sure, you only had your ex for reference but you were pretty sure he was above average.
You looked at him briefly and he was still smiling reassuringly at you. “Start with stroking it a few times, okay?”, he said.
You nodded and did as he said. Sitting across his legs this time you bent down a little, licked your hand and loosely wrapped it around the base of his cock. You observed his reaction; another breathy moan at the contact. You moved your hand up and down once, twice, and with the third time you swiped your thumb over his tip, eliciting another shaky breath from him.
“Good?”, you just managed to ask and he nodded, “Yeah, use your mouth now, okay baby?”
You tried to ignore the nickname, amour or chérie were a regular by now but this was new. In this context, however, it really turned you on.
You hummed in agreement and slowly moved your head down to his cock, darting your tongue out to lick along the shaft.
“Keep going, use your tongue like that, yeah”, he mumbled. You did as he told you, licking up his entire length a few times before you swiped your tongue along his tip, giving it a few kitten licks.
Your shifted your gaze to look back up to him, your eyes connecting. Charles swore he could have died then and there. For a brief moment the thought of how they were supposed to go back to friends after this crossed his mind. He was unsure if he would be able to do that.
The sight of you like this in front of him sure burned itself into his mind for the rest of his being.
“Feels so good”, he moaned. When he felt your lips wrap around his tip it hit him unprepared, causing him to thrust his hips upwards a little into your mouth.
It caught you by surprise, your eyes widening for a moment. “Shit, sorry”, he started to apologise but you just continued to suck his tip a little.
“You are evil, Y/l/n”, he whispered with a smirk and you smiled back at him, as best as you could with his dick between your lips.
“Can you move down further?”, he almost pleaded. You wrapped your lips back around him and moved them down inch by inch. It wasn’t even half way in but you felt as if you’d start to gag around him if you’d go any deeper.
“So good, use your hand for the rest, if you can”, he said and moved one of his hands to your hair, gathering the strands that fell in front of your face and pushed them behind your ears.
You brought one of your hands around the base of his cock again while simultaneously continuing to take as much of his length as you could, trying to build a rhythm with your movements.
Charles leaned his head back against the headboard, the feeling of both your lips and your hand on his cock almost too much to take.
Sure, he had done this plenty of times before but for some reason this was a lot different, and much more intimate.
You didn’t stop your movements until you felt him twitch inside your mouth, causing you to look up at him through your lashes again.
“Merde, I’m close”, he muttered.
“Cum in my mouth, okay?”, you asked with a hoarse voice, pulling him out of your mouth for a moment.
Charles looked at you for confirmation. “Really?” Instead of giving him an answer you just wrapped your lips around him, sucked harshly once and then went down to take him until he almost hit the back of your throat.
Charles let out a groan and moved his hand to the back of your head, pulling on your hair slightly. This caused you to moan around him, the vibrations of it giving Charles the rest it took for him to release himself into your mouth.
You swallowed all of it without really thinking about it. You licked up his length another time before pulling off him.
Charles tried to control his breathing and when he looked at you again he smiled. “I don’t believe you when you say you never did that before”, he said with a cocky smirk back on his lips.
You let out a chuckle, not sure what to answer. It was true though, this was your first time doing that.
“Well, like I said, my ex wasn’t really experimental in bed…”, you said and looked down again. Charles sat up slightly and lifted to lay on his chest again.
“Well”, he begun as he smirked at you, “he sure missed out on something.”
You couldn’t help but smirk and shake his head at him. “You’re a menace, Leclerc.”
Charles hummed and placed one hand back on your cheek, his thumb caressing the soft skin there for a moment.
“I’m sure you won’t say that again after I returned the favor to you.” There was a questioning tone to his statement and you just lifted your head from his chest and raised an eyebrow.
“I guess we will have to see about that after…”
—————
Part 2 is up!
As always, feedback and reblogs are dearly appreciated <3
3K notes · View notes
holllandtrash · 9 months
Text
haunted | daniel ricciardo
Tumblr media
pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader (part 2 to fragile line)
Can't breathe whenever you're gone Can't turn back now, I'm haunted
you're racing. daniel isn't, but he's not gone either, is he? word count: 7.6k (im so sorry) warnings/tags: angst really, more incorrect f2 stats but whatever, time jumps again, platonic love all around, not as big of a rollercoaster as part 1 but just wait till part 3 lol
Tumblr media
“Do you know?”
“Do I know what?” You asked, wondering why that was the first thing your teammate said when you opened the door to your flat. 
Lando didn’t even bother with a ‘hey, how was your day, what’s up’, he was just straight to the point, only you had no idea what the point was. 
He was still on a high after coming in second place the other day, so you let the impoliteness slide. Usually Lando didn’t look like a mix between a sweaty mess and a confused child, but you assumed he was like this because whatever was on his mind was important.
“You haven’t- did you-” Lando stammered over his words. “When’s the last time you checked your phone?”
You felt around in your pockets and glanced over your shoulder with a bit of a shrug. If you were being honest, you hadn’t looked at your phone in a few hours. Your morning was spent training and running errands now that you had some time and were home for a little while before the next race. You were still carrying a lot of energy after your successful finish in Silverstone that sitting still and scrolling through your phone was the last thing you wanted to be doing right now.
“Can you just find your phone, please?” Lando asked, because he didn’t want to be the person to break the news. He came over to talk to you, to walk you through it, to be someone to vent to if you needed it, but the last thing he wanted was to be the one to say it. 
It took a minute, but you found it in your bedroom, the screen lighting up and vibrating with each notification. As you walked back towards Lando, you scrolled through them all, trying to see which was the most important. 
Eventually, you landed on one from the official F1 app.
Daniel Ricciardo Replaces Nyck de Vries
Daniel Ricciardo was returning to the grid.
Daniel was coming back. 
But did he ever really leave in the first place?
You hadn’t spoken to him since that day in Monaco, almost a year ago now. The day your relationship fell apart, crumbling to pieces around you. 
You thought maybe, maybe, he’d call you before the next race or at least try to find you somewhere in the paddock to have a civil conversation but that didn’t happen. 
Of course, neither of you had time for a conversation anyway.
Daniel released his video 24 hours before media day in Belgium, announcing he would be leaving the team. It broke your heart watching it in your hotel room, knowing he was only a few floors up and probably struggled to record it. You could picture him retaking it a few times, just to get the words right, his tone right. He didn’t want to paint McLaren as being at fault for this decision, even if that was the case. 
If you weren’t the driver who was set to replace him, you would have been there in that room giving him encouraging nods and telling him to just speak to the fans. You would have been there when his head fell back against the wall in defeat, eyes closed as the weight of his unknown future crashed down on him. You would have crawled onto his lap and held him, telling him that another team was going to be desperate for him. 
Instead you were in your own room, watching the video like the millions of other followers he had. The only difference was, none of those followers asked themselves if they were to blame. 
It was just you, wiping the corner of your eyes and asking yourself if this was your fault. 
Surely when your news dropped, people would start pointing fingers, people would talk. 
Daniel Ricciardo trained her, they would say. He helped her get to this point and now she’s taking his seat. 
They’d throw assumptions into the wind about how this was probably your plan all along. 
It wasn’t, of course. Your plan was to get a seat in Formula 1 and see Daniel as friendly competition when you stepped onto the grid. You wanted to keep the support system alive when you moved up, knowing you had someone watching your back when you climbed out of the car. You wanted to be able to go home with him at the end of the night on Sunday and watch the race back with him, playfully critiquing each other's moves and ideally celebrating your victories, together.
You never wanted to leave him without a seat. 
But part of you must have known he wasn’t driving next year, right? You never brought up the contract, he never talked about leaving, nor did he talk about potentially moving to another team, which seemed like something you’d talk to your partner about. 
Daniel said nothing. You said nothing. And in the back of your head you knew he wasn’t signed to another team, you just didn’t want to accept it. 
You didn’t want to admit that part of that was your fault. 
Zak Brown put you in the worst position possible. He was giving you the chance to make your dream a reality, but in doing so, you were losing the one person who shared that dream with you. 
It shouldn’t have been hard to put on a smile during that post-race interview in Spa. You finished second, your hot streak had continued despite the turmoil your heart was going through. So not only was the adrenaline pumping through your veins from the podium, but McLaren had decided that morning was the perfect time to announce you were replacing Daniel. 
They didn’t word it like that, though. They just stated that you were to race for McLaren for 2023. No mention of Daniel, even if that was all anyone had questions about. 
“Second place in Spa, how are you feeling?” The reporter asked as you struggled to get comfortable in the white leather chair, your trophy at your feet. 
You weren’t surprised he, Richard from the official FIA reporting team, jumped directly to you, bypassing any questions for Liam Lawson who finished third. No one had yet to get a comment on your official move to F1, not having any time this morning since the news was announced. 
“It's exciting, it’s good to be back as well,” you nodded, turning to Felipe on your right who nodded as well. “A break is always needed, but there’s really no better feeling than getting back behind the wheel.”
“You’ve never podiumed here before,” Richard pointed out, “There’s quite a difference in performance from last year to this year, we’ve all noticed.” 
“Is there a question in there somewhere?” You laughed, not caring at all if it sounded forced, and you knew it did because Liam raised his hand to mouth to hide his chuckle and tried to play it off like he was just scratching his jaw. 
“Well it’s just no wonder that McLaren has snatched you up for the 2023 season, with how much you’ve shown this year what you’re capable of. Care to comment on that?” 
There it was. The first official request to talk about McLaren. 
“I mean, we’ve all seen the news at this point,” another laugh but this time it was more out of discomfort. 
You looked at Felipe, he nodded again but it was short and encouraging, silently telling you it was okay to take the spotlight even though it was him who had won this race. 
You cleared your throat, thinking about what the PR team from McLaren told you. You’re focused on Prema. McLaren knows this. McLaren is supporting you while you finish your F2 season and by all means, shut down any topic regarding Daniel Ricciardo. 
“Really, I’m just focused on finishing the season off strong with Prema,” you told Richard, feeling your smile start to slip because how could you be excited over that or a trophy when you knew what he was thinking and what the whole world was thinking. 
You prayed he wouldn’t bring it up, but the media world was hell. 
“And Daniel’s departure-
Liam promptly lifted the mic to lips, cutting off Richard before he could finish that thought. “We’ll all miss her, I think that’s safe to say. But maybe it’ll be a bit easier for the rest of us to podium when she’s gone.”
Quiet laughter spread through the audience and you just turned to Liam and mouthed a quick ‘thank you’. He didn’t say anything back, just dropped his head to your shoulder for a second and smiled, playing up the whole we’ll miss her statement. It wasn’t an act, though. Most of the guys you raced with had stopped you at some point this morning sharing their congrats and giving you a hug, telling you that you deserved that spot in F1. 
Even Felipe said it and meant it, and he was on the fast track to win this year, also eyeing a spot in F1. You had a good support system in this series. 
He dropped his head to your other shoulder and your lips fell into a playful pout, raising your hands to the sides of both driver’s faces. It made a cute photo. The F1 social media team really played into the love you had from your competitors. 
You had a lot of support in the paddock, surprisingly, from other drivers. 
Mick found you before his own race started. He was your first teammate during your rookie season in F2, it only made sense he was the first current driver to congratulate you.  
“You deserve it,” Mick told you, arms tightly wrapped around your body as he gave you a comforting embrace that almost compared to the one you were craving from Daniel, but still something was missing. 
Mick’s contract was up at the end of 2022, and no one knew where he was going but he assured you that no matter what, he’d be on your side. 
You sort of interacted with Lando on Sunday after your feature race. When you passed him in the paddock, he held his hand out for a fist bump and gave you a wide smile. The cameras caught it, they caught everything apparently, and it was the first photo you saw on social media when you got to the airport late Sunday evening. 
First of many celebratory fist bumps, McLaren’s caption said. It was a nice photo, truly. 
Too bad the comments were anything but. 
Not McLaren hyping up the fact that Danny’s girlfriend is replacing himIsn’t she only fourth in the driver standings in F2 lol We don’t want her we want the honey badgerEven worse when you think about the fact that they are literally in a relationship and she’s taking his seatNo class from any of them
No one seemed to know that you and Daniel were done, but how would they know? Your relationship was private, your break up would be too. 
Your break up. 
And then it hit you. Right there in the airport. After the adrenaline of a podium had worn off. After the excitement of signing with a new team had passed. After you were finally left alone after being surrounded by your team and drivers and press all day, you broke down. 
It was embarrassing. The only saving grace was the fact that you were sat in the corner of the premium lounge, facing the windows, so at least no one could see you cry. You weren’t quiet though, you knew your faint sobs could be heard from anyone within a 3 metre radius.
And you knew how immature this was, crying in an airport. But when you felt things you felt them with every fibre in your being. You were overjoyed beyond words, shaking when you got first podium in F2, and then feeling that multiplied by fifty when you won in Monaco. 
You were madly in love with Daniel, despite only dating for a year. It wasn’t young love, puppy love, a whirlwind romance, or any of those sappy headlines. You were head over heels, ready to spend your life with the man who lifted you up above the rest of the world. Who not only put you on a pedestal, but made sure other people did too. He was always in your corner, even before you started dating. He loved you long before you even realised you could also love him. 
As an athlete, as a future world championship contender, as a friend, Daniel loved you. 
The day you knew you loved him, you knew you were screwed, you both talked about the risks. 
Fragile line, you called it, walking a tightrope, he joked. There was such a huge margin of error, so many things that could go wrong by falling in love with, not only a driver but the driver who mentored you. 
The media would turn against you. Sponsors would shake their heads. Your future could have been jeopardised. You’d be labelled as a poor role model for girls in motorsport. 
You walked a dangerous and delicate line with Daniel, but you didn’t think it would snap beneath your feet. You never thought you’d be the one to break it. 
So yes, you were full on sobbing in the airport as you waited to board your flight to Amsterdam. 
“Pretty sure podium winners aren’t usually this distraught.”
You heard the British accent and immediately sat up, wiping your eyes and sniffling to at least try and make it seem like you weren’t crying. You turned your head and watched as Lando sat down next to you on the dark blue chair, resting a leg over his knee. 
You didn’t say anything, you just stared at him, worrying that if you did try to talk, all that would come out would be more cries. 
Lando reached into the front pocket of his backpack and pulled out a travel size pack of tissues, tossing them to you without so much as a word. He waited a few minutes as you composed yourself, using some of the tissues and pocketing the rest for later. 
“You okay?” Lando asked, sounding concerned for your well being because he had a point, podium winners aren’t usually this distraught. 
“Am I okay?” You repeated back followed with a playful scoff. “Do I look okay?” 
“You look awful.”
“I feel awful.”
Lando nodded, clearly unsure what to do in this situation. His current teammate, his friend, was leaving at the end of this year and his new teammate, a girl he had barely had 5 conversations with, was having a breakdown in the airport. 
Lando, whether he liked it or not, knew he would be caught in the middle of whatever this mess was for the next few months or so. 
He knew you and Daniel were an item. Daniel told himself shortly after Silverstone, and only because Lando had asked, simply curious.
“You and Y/N,” he started off, hesitantly, seeing the two of you interact much more flirtatiously then you had before. “You two are..” he didn’t know how to word it. 
Daniel just winked, “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”
That pretty much confirmed it. And then when you started showing up in the back of the McLaren garage during race weekends, Lando sort of accepted it, quickly getting used to seeing you around. 
You were always friendly with each other, but your attention was always on Daniel, too. Lando saw the way you were quick to rush to his side after a difficult race. How you were the first one Daniel looked for when he stepped out of the car, eyes searching the sea of orange for you. Lando heard the way Daniel talked about you, the way he praised you, telling everyone who would listen that you deserved a spot in Formula 1. That man had a note saved on his phone of your stats, race wins, qualifying times, records broken, all of it. 
Daniel loved you. Everyone who knew him saw it, and Lando was no exception. 
So one could imagine the uncertainty he felt as he approached you in the airport. Surely you and Daniel weren’t together anymore, right? Or were you somehow going to work through this? Could you work through it? Taking his seat?
Lando, like everyone else, was dying to know. 
“Has he said anything?” You asked him before Lando had a chance to get a word out. That question alone confirmed that you and Daniel weren’t on speaking terms at least.
“About you?” Lando asked and when you nodded, he saw the devastation hit your eyes as he shook his head. “Honestly he wasn’t very talkative today, left right after the post race stuff.”
“How is he?” You then asked. “Has he- is there any word on him finding a seat next year?” You pulled your knees up to your chest, staring hopefully at the British driver. 
It pained Lando to shake his head again, “Not yet, but it’s still pretty early. I’m sure he’ll find a seat.”
You nodded, praying that Lando was right. When you dropped your chin to your knees, averting your eyes when you felt the tears well up again, Lando’s chest grew tight. He felt bad for you. This was a hard position for you to be in. 
“It’s not your fault, you know,” Lando assured you. “Danny’s one of the best there is, but the results just aren’t there. Zak didn’t see any point in continuing if it’ll just end up being more of the same.”
Lando tried to be encouraging, really, and you were thankful for that, but he got the hint after a while that you just didn’t want to talk about it. Before leaving you alone, he gave you his number and told you that if you needed anything, to just reach out. 
You were always friendly with Lando, but that was the start to your friendship.
It was Lando who shared your picture when you claimed first place in Zandvoort, celebrating your success with a cheeky caption stating how he better see you bring the hot streak to McLaren next year. He was the one who interrupted your post-race interview in Monza, spotting you in the paddock being interviewed by Will Buxton. Lando, despite needing to follow his own pre-race schedule, came and draped an arm over your shoulder and playfully interrupted whatever Will was trying to say.
“Look at that,” Will laughed when you struggled to shake Lando’s arm off of you, “Future teammates. Lando, how excited are you to be working with this incredible talent next year?”
“Oh extremely excited,” Lando answered, leaning into the mic gripped between your fingers. “She won’t be able to keep up with me though.”
And that it was it. He ruffled his hand through your hair and took off again.
He checked in on you between races, whenever a new headline was trending, whenever someone from social media had the audacity to compare yours and Daniels stats and pin you against each other as if there wasn’t already enough you were struggling with.
Lando didn’t want you to come into the new season already feeling defeated. He was still friends with Daniel, he always would be, but he had a kind heart. He wanted you to know that he wasn’t on anyones ‘side’, but more importantly, he saw you as a driver, as his next teammate. He didn’t see you as Daniel’s ex who was now stealing his seat like half of the world did.
It was also his car that you drove during the practice sessions in Austin and Abu Dhabi. Lando happily stepped aside for you, giving you a supportive pat on the back and strategically blocking your line of sight towards Daniel as he got ready for his sessions as well.
You still hadn’t spoken. You hadn’t even looked at each other. You tried, honestly, to catch his eye but he refused to even glance your way. He was in and out of that car so quick, finding any excuse to leave the garage while you were there.
It hurt. You knew his mind was made up. He was upset, he was hurt, he wanted nothing to do with you and seeing you in his garage sent him spiralling.
All you saw was Daniel turning his back on you, but what you didn’t know was this situation was giving Daniel constant headaches. He couldn’t look at you, the girl he loved, and watch you climb into the McLaren knowing that you’d be doing that throughout the entire next season and he wouldn’t.
All he ever wanted was to see you in a Formula 1 car, but not like this. 
You stood in Lando’s side of the garage during the last race. You wore your McLaren jacket, you had the orange headphones on as stared up at the screen. Your back was towards Daniel’s car, so you missed the way he did actually look at you. It pained him to see how well you blended in with the team, his team. He almost told himself it looked like you belonged there, but he quickly put his helmet on and climbed into his car, gearing up for the race.
He finished 9th. Lando finished 6th. And with that, the season ended.
Daniel was done.
You watched him celebrate with those closest to him. You stood off to the side and thought about how if things were different, you’d be clinging to him, sweaty race suit and all, waiting to congratulate him in your own way back at the hotel. You would tell him you loved him, that he didn’t need McLaren. You’d joke and say that you two could form your own team, because that’s what you should have been till the end, a team. 
But that wasn’t the case anymore. McLaren was your team now.
It was only a matter of days until Daniel spoke to the media about his departure. 
“I can’t speak ill of her,” Daniel said, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. He knew that coming on this podcast that he’d be asked about you and your contract. He was advised against it but the second his working relationship ended with McLaren, he agreed to talk, to share his side.
“But she’s the one who took your seat,” Jaycee so politely pointed out. “As happy as I am to see a female in Formula 1, it’s bittersweet knowing a driver such as yourself is left without a spot.”
Daniel sighed into the mic in front of him, “McLaren handed her her dream on a papaya platter and she grabbed it. I think a lot of drivers would do the same in that scenario.”
“But it stings a little more, doesn’t it?” Greyson, her co-host asked. “Because you two were-
“Friends, yeah,” Daniel interrupted. “Yeah we were close.”
“You mentored her,” Greyson pushed for more of an admittance as to what their relationship was. “You were seen with her and the Prema team during a handful of weekends. She even said you were her mentor.”
Daniel naturally hesitated, “I saw her potential early on and I wanted to help her grow. I really did want to see her in Formula 1, despite what anyone says about the situation she’s an incredible driver.”
“Everyone who follows Formula 1 knows you have a strong connection,” Jaycee said, subtly trying to pry for more as well. “After her Silverstone crash in 2021 you were in her garage. And then you were seen in Monaco together a few weeks later. You two weren’t just friends in the paddock, you worked closely together outside of race weekends too-
“Did your girlfriend take your seat or not?” Greyson blurted out, earning a glare from Jaycee on his left, but he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He wanted to know, the whole world wanted to know what was going on between you and Daniel now that you were signed for McLaren. 
And you had to give props to Daniel, he played it off about as smoothly as he could. 
“McLaren sees more potential in her than me,” he said, still smiling because that’s who he was. A people pleaser, always grinning, always a breath of fresh air. “If they can give her what they promised me, then that’s good for all of them. Do I like how the situation went down? No, but that’s the reality of Formula 1. You’re not safe unless you’re winning and I wasn’t winning.”
“And your relationship-
“She doesn’t need a mentor anymore, does she?” Daniel asked, disregarding any ideas of the two of you dating. “She made it to Formula 1. That was what she wanted. I wish her well.” 
That was the closest thing to confirmation of your break up that anyone would get. 
And the interview ended shortly after that, doing wonders on Spotify and Apple Podcasts. You listened to it also, just waiting for Daniel to say something horrible but of course he didn’t. That wasn’t him. He was the good guy. He was the hero. He got you to Formula 1 and was holding his head up high, wishing you well and thanking McLaren for the last 2 years. 
You wished it ended there, the conversations surrounding you. It should have ended there. 
But fast forward to the awards dinner at the end of the year, just shortly after the last race of the season. 
You sat with your mum at a round table with Felipe and his partner and few other people involved in Formula 2. 
You had finished second in the standings, not first like you had dreamt of, but Felipe told you that first place in the championship would come in F1, don’t worry. 
And you weren’t sure who had made the seating chart, but from where you sat, you could easily see Daniel at his table, only a few metres away from your own. He sat with some of his friends and some people from his personal team. He was also purposely avoiding looking in your direction, knowing that if he did, he’d be making eye contact for the first time in months. 
He’d see your stunning features and bright eyes standing out among the rest. He’d see the low cut, thinly strapped black dress, showing off the collarbones he used to mark with his lips, the trail between your breast and down to your navel that he used to make with his tongue. If he looked at you, he’d think of all the ways the night would have ended if things were different. 
If he looked at you, he’d be reminded that the girl he loved was the one who broke him. He’d be reminded that as hurt as he was by your actions, by taking his seat, he couldn’t forget the memories you made, the moments he shared, the way he used to admire you. 
He didn’t love you anymore, though. He couldn’t. He forced those feelings out, replacing them with regret for ever deciding to help you because if he hadn't helped you, it wouldn’t have been you that took his seat. 
So Daniel looked at the stage, his friends, his food. He didn’t look at you. 
He didn’t even look at you when you walked up to collect your trophy, choosing that moment to be the perfect time to walk up to the open bar. He ordered a few more drinks and a shot on a whim, downing it back before walking to the table, 2 freshly poured glasses of rum and cokes in hand. 
Daniel got drunk that night. He didn’t mean to, but it helped him deal with all he had going on. It was a good way to end the 2022 season, to put it behind him. You, McLaren, all of it. 
Someone should have stopped him when he noticed you about to leave at the end of the night, a white coat draped over your shoulders. That should be my blazer, Daniel thought, thinking of the countless nights he had given you his jacket for warmth. 
You were in the middle of a conversation with someone from Prema when you felt a tug in your arm. When you looked up and saw it was Daniel who was pulling you off to the side, your heart sank. There were no butterflies anymore, just a lot of anxiety and guilt eating you from the inside. 
You could tell he hadn’t thought through what he was going to say. For a split second, his gaze was soft, almost like he thought about congratulating you for a successful season. For a moment, proud Daniel was back and for a moment, you got your hopes up. Maybe this line you broke could be fixed.
It was a bad sign when his eyes grew cold, features hardening along with them. This man, who was all you wanted, stared at you like you were a stranger, and maybe you were now. 
He opened his mouth and the room around you fell dark and quiet. It was your mind playing horrible tricks on you, putting a spotlight in this moment in time so it would haunt your memories after tonight. You knew the earth was still spinning, that people around you were still moving, but you couldn’t trust anything, frozen in this space with Daniel. 
“I hope you’re happy,” Daniel spoke softly, but his words cut through you like a knife. If someone told you that your heart was bleeding, you’d believe it. That’s certainly what it felt like.
He didn’t want you to be happy. He didn’t want you taking his seat. He didn’t want to see you live out his dream. He put on a beautiful charade for the press, but deep down you knew, he saw you as nothing more but a mistake. He no longer wanted you to succeed, despite telling the world he wished you would. 
"Daniel-"
You automatically reached for him and he flinched backwards. It hurt, seeing him react how he was. He didn’t want you touching him, he just wanted to get one more word in, wanted you to know that he was still bitter and would be for a while. 
You stood there and watched him walk away, haunted by the pain and broken trust in his eyes, a look that would become burned into your mind during your restless sleeps. 
And then there was the week where you just didn’t sleep. The week after Daniel’s contract with Red Bull was announced. 
He wasn’t driving with them, but he wasn’t leaving Formula 1 either. 
He’d still be around the paddock during selective race weekends. He’d be there, putting on a show for the fans because everyone loved him. Everyone wanted him on the grid, and if he couldn’t race, at least he was still there in the garage as a reserve driver. 
The same excitement couldn’t be said for you. 
Despite forming a close bond with Lando really early into the pre-season, it helped that he was only two years younger than you, you were not met with open arms and loud cheers. 
You had some supporters, a lot actually, but nothing compared to Daniel’s fans. You were pulled alert and critiqued for every move you made. You could understand the questions that circulated when you didn’t even finish the first race in Bahrain, retiring early because of an engine problem. Did Zak really make the right move by replacing Daniel with you? What could you bring to the team if this was how you started the season?
But it was the talk about what you did off the track that really got to you. You didn’t care if people weren’t a fan of your driving, you knew F1 fans had their favourites and you knew you weren’t everyone’s. 
However social media had a way of spinning everything. You lost count of the ridiculous rumours. Apparently, you were now replacing Daniel with Lando because that playful interview you did talking about red flags in relationships really gave away the fact you were sleeping together. 
Oh you were also sleeping with Mick Schumacher, because you had a thing for reserve drivers, it seemed. And the way he found you after your second race without points again in Saudi Arabia made it so obvious that you were with him. 
And you couldn’t forget about how big of a bitch you were, choosing to not acknowledge Daniel in Australia when you walked past him in the paddock. It was his home race, he was the reason you were even racing, and you couldn’t even stop and give him a smile? 
These rumours were truly getting annoying.
Of course, you couldn’t come out and tell people that Lando was seeing someone because it was so new and private and not your story to tell. No one cared that Mick was your teammate at Prema in 2020 and you guys had always been friends. No one would believe you if you said that you didn’t even see Daniel in the paddock, being too engrossed in your conversation to notice that the Australian was walking past. 
You grew to hate seeing him during race weekends. 
It was a constant reminder of what could have been. 
What if you had waited a year and signed with McLaren then? Would Daniel still hold this hatred towards you if his contract played out like it was supposed to? 
What if you signed with a different team like Williams instead, and someone else replaced Daniel? If Oscar Piastri had taken his spot, would Daniel be this resentful still to see you driving? Or would he happily walk by your side in the paddock, him in Red Bull polo, you in your Williams racing suit? Would he have accompanied you during the race weekends when he didn’t have Red Bull duties?
Was there ever a scenario where he stood in your garage and watched you race? Cheering you on, despite what place you finished? Despite where he was in his own career?
Or was that just a far fetched dream? 
Because let’s face it, if Daniel was still racing this year, it would be hard to support you and focus on his own season. How could he be happy if he DNF’d and you finished in the points? How could you be happy if the media would say that you were only using Daniel to get ahead? 
If you had signed for Williams and Daniel was still replaced, it would be difficult for him to watch you race, to watch you do what he loved. How could he be in your corner when he no longer had a corner of his own to stand in? 
Maybe you were doomed from the start. Fragile line, you said. How true that was. It was always going to snap.
You heard through the grapevine that Daniel had said you taking his seat before his contract was even up was the worst thing you could have possibly done. 
Was that in regards to McLaren? To your relationship? From a sportsmanship standpoint? You had no idea. You just knew Daniel wasn’t impressed that you were racing and he wasn’t.  
You hated seeing him during the few races he attended. You were petrified to run into him in the paddock, in the pit lane, in the hotel for christ sakes, you didn’t want to see him. At one point, you were desperate for even just a smidge of attention from him and now you felt sick whenever you heard he would be in attendance.
You went five races in a row without scoring any points. You could practically hear Daniel’s smug expression when you crossed the finish line each time. He was probably eating this up, knowing you were the one struggling now. 
The only difference was, you didn’t have him to turn to after a shitty run in the McLaren. 
Lando tried to be helpful, but he was struggling too. People called the car a tractor and honestly, so did you and Lando in private. You had a group chat with your personal trainers and the four of you called yourselves the farmers. The jokes made and lighthearted conversations shared were the only silver linings during this depressing start of a season.
Monaco was better, sort of. 
You finished 10th, so at least that was a point under your belt. 
But Daniel was everywhere. 
He loved Monaco, he lived in Monaco, of course it was no surprise he was there that weekend.
You found yourself jogging past his flat the Thursday before the race, and you didn’t do it on purpose but it was the same route you had taken all of those times you had spent days on end at Daniel’s. Sometime he joined you for those morning runs, sometime you’d return and he was making breakfast.
But you came to a stop on the opposite side of the street and stared up at it, recognising his balcony instantly. You saw the plant in the corner that you had given him a few months into your relationship and despite him claiming he wasn’t a plant guy, he managed to keep it alive.
Your heart felt heavy. All you wanted was to knock on his door and be welcomed in with wide arms and that stupid smile of his. You wanted to not feel anxious when you saw him in the paddock. You wanted to not be holding your breath every time you got out of the racecar, wondering what Daniel thought of your run. 
You were simultaneously on edge at all moments while also still dying to make him proud. You didn’t think that would ever go away.
Even during the weekends he wasn’t there, you were looking over your shoulder constantly. Even if you knew that he was on the other side of the world, he was still on your mind. He haunted your thoughts from the moment you walked into the garage to when you got out of the car at the end of the race weekend.
Lando called you out on it that Thursday in Silverstone.
“You’re in your head,” he told you, seeing how your main focus wasn’t racing, it was Daniel. You were unsure what he was referring to though and Lando just rolled his eyes, “Well actually, Daniel’s in your head. And he’s keeping you from being the driver I know you can be.”
That was all he said on the topic. 
And he was right.
You were so worried about Daniel. About what he would think of your races. About trying to avoid him during the weekends he was there. About still trying to make him proud but not too proud where he resented you more for taking his seat. About the hundreds of scenarios that could have happened if you had made a different choice.
Because of all of these thoughts, that seat at McLaren was still very much Daniel’s. You allowed it to be.
You needed to stop telling yourself you took his seat because that’s what it would always be then, his seat. Lando stood up, patting your knee after dropping those few words and you decided right then and there that it was your seat. 
You wouldn’t let Daniel haunt you anymore. 
And qualifying was where this new mentality really showed. 
You were buzzing with energy when your engineer told you that you had gotten P3 and were starting on the second row for tomorrows race. You climbed out of the car in parc ferme and ran directly to Lando. He hugged you, he was proud of you. 
“That’s the driver we all know,” Lando said when he pulled his helmet off. His hand was on your shoulder, both of you were wearing identical smiles of pure joy. “Where the hell has she been all this time?”
You didn’t even have an answer, too excited about what this meant for you, for the team. You post-quali interviews went by in a blur, your hands were shaking the entire time. You blacked out during it, still trying to process the fact that you had finished third in qualifying, but you did remember Lando reaching over at one point and dropping his hand to your knee. It was polite, it didn’t mean anything more than a playful stop shaking you’re making us all look bad, but god did the media run with it. 
You didn’t let anything on social media get to you, telling yourself that you had to stay focused for the race. In fact you even gave your phone to your trainer, Oliver, asking him to take it for the night and to just wake you up in the morning.
And Oliver was a good trainer, he had also become a good friend since you joined McLaren so you trusted him with your phone. 
Which meant he knew your password. 
So when he saw your phone light up that night with a text from Daniel, Oliver panicked. He knew the right thing to do would be to just leave it alone, you’d see it in the morning. You’d see the message. The short but seemingly sweet;
P3, nice job
But a text like that would send you spiralling and you didn't need that before one of the most important races of the season for you, Oliver knew this. He knew you were supposed to be getting over Daniel, he knew how much the Australian just being in the paddock messed with your mind. He knew you had to focus on racing.
There was so much uncertainty with the text. Was this him extending an olive branch? Was he genuine, or was this supposed to be taken with a bit of salt? Oliver could read it both ways. Either Daniel was truly happy for you, or this could be dripping with sarcasm. P3, sure, but remember who’s seat you’re in.
Oliver decided to delete the text. There was no trace of it when he handed the phone back to you the next day. 
Maybe that was for the best, no one knew. 
All you knew was you were starting third today.
All Daniel knew was you had ignored him, and now you were walking right past him down the paddock, side by side with Lando as you talked about today’s race. Daniel turned his head and saw the two of you, drawing his own conclusions. 
Whatever was going through his mind, one thing seemed certain. You didn’t need him anymore. You had the seat, the team, someone new supporting you, why would you still need Daniel?
You went about your day, the same pre-race rituals. Lando checked in more than normal, it was an exciting day for both of you, but he knew he was also a good distraction to keep your mind off of Daniel, he knew you would be struggling to keep from thinking about him. 
“It’s you and me,” Lando told you right before the race. “It’s our day, yeah? We’ve got this.”
Lando was in your corner. You were in his. 
Which meant you were there to celebrate after the race when he took home second place. You had claimed fourth, which was also something to be proud of, and you were, but you were also craving that podium. You could almost taste it, it was so close. 
“Next time,” Lando assured you, having full confidence that you’d be holding the trophy at the following race. He handed you a bottle of champagne, telling you to drink up and enjoy and for once, you did. 
You were happy. You finally felt like you could accomplish something amazing at McLaren, despite the horrible start. Lando had gotten a podium, yours was coming, you could feel it. 
You didn’t think about Daniel at all that night. It was the first night in a long time where you didn’t see his face when you closed your eyes. 
And you would have loved to keep celebrating after that night, to keep the high of Lando's podium and your 4th place finish last until the next race, but all good things must come to an end. 
You stood in front of Lando now, unsure how to take the news about Daniels’ return. Were you allowed to be happy for him? Of course you wanted to see him in a seat, this was the ideal situation, both of you driving this season. What would this mean for the two of you moving forward?
But he had done the exact same thing you had done by replacing a driver before their contract was up.
Daniel made you feel awful about that decision and now here he was, making the exact same one. He was no better than you. He was no hero, he wasn’t the good guy. He was a driver, desperate for a seat, as were you. As was every single person wanting to race in this series. 
You were on the same playing field now.
He was going to be at every single race for the rest of the season, as a competitor on the grid. Something you once dreamt of, both of you dreamt of, was finally coming true. 
But that’s all he would be. A competitor. Another driver. Another car to overtake. You always thought that when this moment came, you’d still be a team when you left the track at the end of the day and that just wasn’t the reality you found yourself in. 
“He’s back,” Lando said, hands shoved in his pockets trying to gauge your reaction. 
Daniel was returning to Formula 1, but you knew he was never actually gone in the first place.
He was in your thoughts, your dreams, your memories, he was everywhere all of the time. Even when you crossed the finish line in Silverstone, there was still a part of you that was wondering if Daniel was watching. As much as you tried to avoid him, your eyes still scanned every single crowd for him.
And now you didn’t need to look anymore. 
part 3 gone
----
taglist: @yunnie-f1 @torossosebs @whatthefuckerr @jspitwall @oconso @tsarinablogs @landowecanbewc @somanyfandomsbruh @christianpulisic10 @storminacloud @sunnytkm23 @formula1mount @azxulaa @icarus-nex @spideyspeaches if i forgot someone im so sorry
1K notes · View notes