#“this time we’re gonna be a real family

[keepingitformyself]

older (and wiser): i

synopsis: in which time could have never undone what she left.

A/N: FIRST WANDA FIC!!! had this idea long ago when i was crushing hard on this girl from the theatre program at my uni; around that time i had also seen ‘past lives’ and i wanted to do something similar with that film. also at my core i know wanda maximoff would’ve totally been a theatre kid, this is me paying ode to that. while this specific part doesn’t go into that, i am gonna work on a sort of prequel to this Short Series…anyways enjoy!!!

pairings: wanda maximoff x reader

genre: angst?

warnings: it’s sad. but it gets hopeful…

MASTERLIST

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

it had been years.

wanda had finally decided to take a breather. she’d been working non-stop ever since she left for work all those years ago after college.

she didn’t think she’d get so lucky off that one job, that it’d immediately get her into another, or another, and so on and so forth.

she loved her work, sure, but now it was catching up to her. everyone in her life, her manager, her agent, her family had all begged her to slow down.

“take some time off, wanda.” her agent, daniel had said to her during a meeting. wanda’s eyes traveled between daniel and her manager, samara.

the meeting had all been a set up. what wanda thought was supposed to be a discussion on a new project, was actually a ploy. she had no idea the meeting was meant to convince her to take a break.

“yeah right.” she scoffed. not believing in what they were saying.

“we’re serious, wanda.” samara stated, her eyes stern but with genuine care. “when was the last time you had time for yourself?”

wanda remained silent at the words. all of a sudden she felt like a kid being scolded by their parents. and she wished to be anywhere else but in the room with them.

“really.” daniel starts. “go be a real person. smell the flowers, meet people, fall in love, take in the view—”

“i meet people all the time, daniel.” wanda quickly cut in.

all daniel could do was shake his head, a sigh escaping his lips as he tried his hardest to make the woman in front of him understand.

“you know that’s not what i meant, wanda.” he gives her a pointed look.

with a jaw clenched, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked off to the side. the windows overlooking los angeles now seeming more interesting than this conversation.

“we know how much it means for you to work, we know how much you enjoy it, but you’ve been doing it for so long. we just want you at your best.” she hears samara say. and as much as she hated to admit it, daniel and samara were right.

wanda hadn’t stopped working since she started. in fact, it’s all she can think to do. she didn’t have anyone outside of work—no partner, no obligations except to her family. why stop when there was nothing waiting for her?

wanda knew the answer but wouldn’t admit it. she might as well never have fully faced it.

the truth was, she’d loved someone once. she’d loved you. and no matter how much time had passed, the thought of you still gnawed at her.

though everything was perfect for a while, her career was well off, she was successful, and her family was proud.

but wanda couldn’t help asking, is this really it?

of course, she tried meeting people. she really tried. she didn't like being miserable over someone she hadn't been in contact with for years. but even that wasn't enough. it was honestly a bit pathetic. it had happened years ago. four years, to be exact. wanda should’ve been well moved on by now, but she isn’t. at least not entirely.

so, she poured everything into her work to distract her from that gnawing feeling inside her. the one that had been lit up all those years ago. the one that was tamable with you around.

but you’re not around, and wanda couldn’t help but throw herself into more work hoping she could get rid of it, get rid of you. but she hasn’t.

“listen, wanda,” daniel cuts her train of thought. “your work is important and people need it, but to keep it up to that degree, you need to go out and just be a human.” he finishes.

wanda sighs. she leans forward on her knees and drops her head into her hands. daniel was right. they were both so right.

wanda never properly dealt with things. maybe it's time she finally did.

she looks up from her hands, a look of defeat yet understanding, with pursed lips she finally says,

"fine."

and now, two months later, wanda finds herself back in los angeles, in an empty home, eating expensive sushi.

she had gotten off the phone with her brother, pietro, who had just joined her on the recent trip she’d been on.

a trip that he insisted he’d join her on to make sure wanda would do all the resting and touristy things she should.

she had done all the traveling she could do in the last two months, jumping from plane to plane. talking to strangers, being a tourist in european cities, and befriending random people in planes.

now, wanda actually had time for herself, time with her brain. a thing she honestly didn't want to face. because even thinking about anything made it even more real.

but now wanda was bored, and the movie playing on her eighty-inch television wasn't doing much to entertain her. and it also didn't help that it was eleven pm on a thursday night and all wanda could do was feel bad for herself.

so she does the next thing she had been really trying to avoid,

stalking your social media.

wanda herself wasn’t much active online these days. she had much to do day-to-day and week-to-week, rarely would she ever have the patience to sit down and scroll through her phone much. that and she honestly tried to stay off of it.

but now she has the time. and the patience. and honestly, she’s a little scared at what she could find.

she tells herself it doesn't have to mean anything. just a little check-in to see how you were, after that she'd really work on trying to forget about you altogether.

and with the simple type in of your name, wanda finds your instagram. your profile picture, a professional headshot of you, and a bio that reads,

editor in chief.

New York Times contributor.

something that shouldn't have made wanda's chest burst with joy, but it does. and as she scrolls further and further, she finds that you now reside in new york city, that you've moved on well without her and that you have a cat and a boyfriend.

boyfriend.

she shouldn't care so much, but she does.

you were living your best life. the one you had always wanted.

just not with her. not with wanda.

but she doesn't stop there, and she ignores the lump in her throat as she exits your profile and searches for your mother's name.

and maybe she feels her heart break a little when it turns out the boyfriend you had is actually your fiancé. she finds out through a photo your mother posted.

the picture shows you, and a handsome man next to you. you’re both sat outside some restaurant in the city, his arm is thrown over your shoulder while your right hand clutches his left, and there it is. in all its glory—with the diamond on it catching the suns light perfectly. the ring on your finger.

it doesn’t help that he looks so in love with you.

out for lunch with y/n and paul again! i promised them an engagement lunch and we were NOT disappointed. make sure you try Jack’s Wife Freda if you are ever in SoHo!!#motherinlaw #NYC #loveinnewyork

is what the caption reads.

wanda freezes at the fact and immediately throws her phone on the empty seat beside her. she stares at it like it had just offended her.

many things go through her brain. how did you meet him? was it shortly after you broke up? was it really him you wanted to spend forever with? how long did it take for him to ask?

wanda had always loved your mother. a sweet woman who always had your best interests in mind. she had always pushed you to do what you loved. and wanda had always seen that some of her favorite traits of yours had come from her.

after the break up, your mom made sure to check in on wanda. without you ever knowing, wanda and your mom kept in touch, until eventually wanda had cut her line for the sake of fully moving on.

though, she never really fully did.

wanda evaluates what to do next. was this her sign? she doesn’t want it to be sign.

wanda doesn’t want to admit that it seems like you had moved on so completely.

on impulse she looks up your fiancé’s name. “paul” is all she had to type out in your mother’s following before she found his account.

she finds that paul is just as successful as you are. he’s an investigative journalist, born in ireland. he briefly worked at a publication in london but transferred to a firm in new york after a year.

he’s gorgeous, she thinks. he has blue eyes, a kind smile, and he has an accent. it would make perfectly good sense why you would choose him.

wanda’s stomach twists with a mix of happiness and regret.

“fuck!” She whispers to herself.

“of course, you’re happy. of course the man you’re engaged with is actually a decent man! fuck.” wanda says to no one in particular. in frustration, she burries her hands in her hair.

wanda is annoyed at herself.

“i need a drink,” in an instant she’s on her legs making her way to the kitchen. she finds a bottle of wine that has been kept cool in the fridge and she wastes no time in popping it open, she pauses briefly, debating on whether she’d need or glass or not.

to hell with a glass. she thinks, and makes her way back to the couch, she holds the bottle by its neck and takes a long swig from it.

it’s all so perfectly miserable. wanda maximoff stalking her ex-girlfriend on social media while she gets wasted. the self loathing has got the best of her. she finds it all ironic.

wanda maximoff could have anyone she wanted. she knew this. she has everything she could ever want or need. she has credibility, a nice home, the luxury of traveling at any moment she wants.

yet, her mind kept coming back to one thing. the one thing she’d decided she’d leave behind all those years ago. it isn’t fair, she thinks. wanda was young and stupid back then, but she was so so in love. she knew that for sure.

but sometimes…sometimes she really wishes she had fought harder.

briefly, wanda wonders if your number was still the same. if you had ever changed it or at least tried calling her. she wouldn’t know, she had changed it years ago once she started getting more attention for her work.

wanda was really drunk at this point. her better judgment had gone away as soon as she’d picked that bottle out the fridge. there was no better time than now.

she taps on her phone until she lands on the number keypad. her fingers hover over it, would she regret it if she didn’t? probably. would she regret it if she did? probably.

but if there was one thing wanda had, it’s that she’s got nerve and audacity.

so she types in the number that she doesn’t think she could ever forget, and lets it ring.

your fiancé answers the call.

“hello?” an irish accent sounds through the speaker. paul. wanda’s blood runs cold and she stays silent for a moment. all of sudden she feels incredibly sober and regretting making the call.

“hi.” she pauses. “uhm, i’m looking for y/n?” wanda manages to squeak out.

“right! who is this? your number isn’t saved.” paul says,

“an old friend. i changed my number a while back.” wanda replies smoothly.

“oh! let me pass her to you, she’s just in the kitchen.” the line goes quiet for a few moments, and she’s able to hear a few words exchanged between you and paul.

“hello?”

wanda freezes again, a hand covers her mouth as she tries not to shake at the sound of your voice. it’d been so long. she grips her phone tighter.

“hey…” her voice shaky and unmistakable. you know it’s wanda.

“wanda?” your voice betrayed the surprise you felt. from the couch paul caught your eye, a raised eyebrow on his face. everything okay? he mouthed.

you shook your head.

“i wondered if your number was still the same.” wanda says after a moment. her tone light, but with an undercurrent of something else.

your mind raced. why was she calling you? why now? your fiance was in the other room, you were getting married soon. you’d built a life perfectly fine without her in it. so why was she calling you now?

“how have you been?” her voice cuts through the line again. wanda holds the phone close to her ear, wanting to make sure she could hear every word you say.

and all you can think of is how confused you were.

“i- i’m fine. i’m good. yeah.”

“that’s good—”

“i’m sorry, uh…why are you calling?” you find yourself cutting her off. your fingers press against your forehead in act of trying to understand what was happening.

wanda pauses. she realizes just how impulsive this whole thing was. she’s on the phone with her ex of four years, while your fiancé was probably in the other room. she goes silent again. her words have to be carefully measured.

she gulps,

“uhm…i just—i just wanted to know how you were. heard you’re based in new york now...so…” wanda trails off. you don’t miss the tone in her voice as she says those words. the familiar rasp, the lowness of her voice, she’d used it many times on you when she wanted something.

you close your eyes with a sigh, “yeah. yeah, i live in new york now, engaged and everything.”

wanda smiles through the phone, her eyes almost prick with tears at the corners.

“i saw," she says just above a whisper. "congratulations, you…you’ve always wanted that.” and she means it. she knows better than anyone how much you’ve wanted this.

suddenly a wave of nostalgia hits you, and you’re brought back to when you were both in college. so young, so dumb, but god, it was one of the best times of your life. you try not to let it affect you, how much this call seems to be doing for you. you haven’t yet figured out if it’s a good or bad thing.

“thank you." your voice softens. "how have you been?” you find yourself asking her next.

wanda smiles at your question, “life has been…insane, you know?” she pauses on the line. “still missing some pieces, but overall i’m doing well,” you pretend not to hear the sudden shift in her voice when she said that.

you exhaled quietly, unsure of what to say. the air between you felt charged with unspoken words, old memories stirring to the surface.

“can i see you?” she asks, her tone hesitant. “catch up in person? i’d really like to see you.”

with your bottom lip between your teeth, you contemplate your next words. paul notices your tick from the other his seat on the couch, despite you telling him it was okay he couldn’t help but worry. he’d heard enough of the call to know something was wrong. still he knows you had it down, so he waits until you need him.

you struggle to find your words for a moment, the question being so…why?

“oh, wanda, i don’t know if—”

but wanda ever the stubborn woman she is, doesn’t relent.

“please. Just for some coffee and conversation.”

your mind is torn between keeping your peace or taking wanda up on her offer. but you were curious.

with a sigh you finally decide.

“where and when?”

you can hear wanda’s smile through the phone,

“i can fly to new york anytime you’re free. you can pick a spot and i’ll be there.”

you think for a few moments.

“okay, meet at caffe reggio in greenwich.”

wanda’s heart stutters, something she hadn’t felt in a while. her eyes flutter closed, she breathes in— out. her eyes open again. and though you can’t see it, there’s a new look in her eyes.

“i’ll be there.”

[lexicorp]

Transformers Earthspark: Another Place, Another Prison

[screenshot edit thats a bit silly--the maltos are actually generally rather chill even with star being a bit of a lil shit lmao]

This chapter really shoves Starscream into a social gathering with all da peeps for a series of goofy games. Which he roasts the shit out of the majority of the time. He's more into it at the start and gets progressively more drained from it all. It's not as fun if you don't plow the competition after all--XD

just a chap with fun family shenanigans and definitely nothing sus

Previous Chapter: Bee's Good Guy Crash Course

First Chapter: The Need For Read

Next Chapter: Make or Break

Chapter 11: Family Feud

The “Malto Family Game Night”. An intriguing premise. One Bumblebee thought he should drag Starscream into, it seemed, despite the title clearly only set to invite those who are real members of their collective. It even seemed a stretch that the humans and Terrans considered Bumblebee an “honorary” member to begin with. The Terrans, as Earthen cybernetic children, theoretically shared some level of kinship with humans to an extent. As well as apparently being bonded to them on a deeper level. But both he and Bumblebee had no such connection, why should they be roped into human nonsense? 

Why would they allow them to encroach on their little tradition? Perhaps this was some sort of test pertaining to the practice the bug had wanted Starscream to get, after his little lecture. A challenge to see how well Starscream could interact with them. 

Well, for whatever goal the bug had, he certainly could stand a bit of competition. A chance to destroy them at their own ridiculous games? Irresistible. The anticipation of victory, especially one he could lord over the scout later, might just make the growing chaos around him bearable. 

There were too many conversations about too many things being discussed in one room. He’d tried to track a few, but quickly found his audials begin to mute the chatter with a light ringing. If it hadn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from calling them all into order himself.

Finally, Hashtag got everyone’s attention and pointed to the whiteboard that now held doodles of all their faceplates, separated into groups. “Alright fam! The teams we’ve decided on are: Me, J.B, and Nightshade with our name NightTagBreaker! Mom and Dad as Purple. Thrash and Mo as Mash–”

“‘Cause we’re gonna MASH the competition!” Thrash cheered as he smacked servos with his human partner.

Hashtag didn’t even seem fazed by the interruption, and scoffed without a hint of disdain. “We’ll see about that! There’s also Robbie and Twitch–”

“Their team’s name is Twobbie.” Mo said with the most dastardly smirk toward her brother, and a mocking tone to the name.

Robbie and Twitch both stood with crossed arms, the human retorting first with an air of superiority. “Uh no. Our name is Twin Blades!” 

Twitch plucked her swords from her back and twirled them as an example with a proud grin. “We’ve got the blades, and we’re basically twins. And way cooler than Mash.” 

Thrash gasped melodramatically with a servo to his chassis, “How dare you!”

“We’ll see who has the cooler name when we beat you!” Mo shot back with a throw of a digit in their direction. Threats so early in the competition? Bold.

Hashtag edited the name on the board discreetly, then turned to ask, “What’d you guys decide on for your name Bee? I was thinking it could be StarBee or Beam for the combo style like ours–” She gestured to her two partners– “Or BugBird, because y’know, Bee is bug coded and Starscream can fly. OR you could be Primary! Because together you have yellow, red, and blue!”

Starscream took his servo from under his faceplate to tip it at the crowd, straightening his posture with a slight tilt of his helm as he offered confidently, “Why not simply call us The Victors?” He wasn’t exactly thrilled that they had just decided that he was paired with the bug, but that wouldn’t change his plans of total domination over this strange event.

Many of them rolled their optics at Starscream’s proclamation, but Hashtag actually had to stop herself from laughing. Not entirely the correct response. Still, at least she was amused, rather than angered by his insinuation.

Bumblebee shook his helm in a way that Starscream couldn’t tell if he actually disapproved or not. “StarBee is fine, Hashtag.” He determined, then mumbled, “Even if it would be nice if my name was first…”

“Well, you always were more of just the backup, rather than a leader, scout.” Starscream pointed out haughtily. “Obviously my piece of the title would come first.” 

Bumblebee glared at him, “I am not your backup! We’re partners and this is friendly competition! And please try to remember what I was telling you yesterday…” He sounded exasperated. 

Starscream dropped his smirk and crossed his arms to align himself with a more professional posture. “Are you going to disclose the rubric, or will your little test be void of any comprehensible scale like all of your Autobot riddles?”

Bumblebee was about to respond, but the Malto matriarch, Dorothy, interrupted. “No tests. We are not making game night about work again. Right Bee?” The bug nodded, looking rather guilty. “We’re here to have fun.”

“Yeah!” Twitch flew up to meet Starscream’s faceplate, “So don’t you ruin it! Family time is sacred!” 

Starscream leaned slightly toward her, thoroughly unamused. “Yes, how dare I encroach on your ridiculous expression of familial bonding.”

“Okay guys!” Hashtag interjected, “This isn’t exactly supposed to be the mood of this scene. Can we rein it in please?” She looked more at Starscream than her sibling, with a pleading look to her optics. Twitch backed down, as did he. 

“Wonderful!” Nightshade collected a set of cards that seemed to be sized for Cybertronians. “The first game Hashtag and I decided upon from the list of requests, is Uno! Three teams will be in one group, and two in another.”

“Then we shuffle it until every team has had a chance to go against each other!” Hashtag added while shuffling the cards and splitting the deck into two stacks. “First group will be NightTagBreaker, Twin Blades, and Mash; then Purple and StarBee.”

“Would it not make more sense to put the team of three into the group with just two teams?” Starscream asked not as much for some level of fairness, but more in the hopes that he could avoid interacting with Megatron’s little spy. He’d much rather attempt their card game with Hashtag and Nightshade. 

“I mean, maybe, but we’ll get there eventually.” Hashtag gave him an awkward smile, then quickly moved on. Scrap. 

They all took to their tables and dealt the cards. Starscream attempted to read the rules from the little box that was cast aside, but Dorothy’s human conjunx told him that it was apparently quite simple. Same color, same number or action, and you could play your card on your turn. The wild card and plus four were clearly above all the other pathetic actions in the roster. Although the skip option was satisfyingly petty. Starscream managed to skip Bumblebee three times in a row, in fact, which he found hilarious. 

The bug however, was less amused, “We’re supposed to be on the same team! Could you maybe not sabotage me and actually try and collaborate?!”

“Only one of us needs to win to get the credit. I don’t need your help to claim victory over these humans at this silly game.”

“I don’t know about that.” Dorothy tauntingly raised her singular card. “Uno.”

“WHAT?” Starscream’s wings flared and he looked over at the bug’s absurdly large set of cards, then slammed a servo on the table to get his attention. “Unleash a counterattack you fool! You must have something in that embarrassing stack in your servos!”

“Oh look who came crawling back for my help.” The scout hoarded his cards with juvenile snark. 

Starscream stuttered and his optic twitched as he growled through gritted dentas. “Excuse me, but if you don’t we both lose you bit-brained idiot!”

“How about not calling your partner names, and actually asking nicely? Or just working with me instead of acting like I’m still your enemy?”

The bug was a stubborn fool. Ask nicely? Did they expect him to phrase orders as optionary as the Prime did? That’s ridiculous! And of course the bug was still his enemy! How stupid was this mech? Bumblebee had been the first to point a blaster at Starscream in the Titan. Just because the Autobots were acting as if something had changed, didn’t mean anything. This was all just another assignment for the scout. 

Wait…who said that Starscream couldn’t simply take the bug’s cards and do it himself? If they were on the same team, then what did it matter who carried out the move? He didn’t know what stupid arrangement of words they wanted from him. It’d be far easier to–

Starscream forcefully snatched the cards from Bumblebee’s servos in a crimson flash, and slapped down a plus two to destroy the Malto’s hope of victory. He made sure to keep his own remaining two cards safe from getting lost amidst his stolen pile. The bug complained and tossed his servos around before attempting to steal his cards back, as Starscream pushed against his faceplate to hold him off.

Then, Dorothy cleared her throat before crossing her arms. “I win.”

“Wha–HOW?!” Starscream shoved the bug aside before pointing a digit at the human. “You lost your turn and were supposed to gain additional cards as the action dictates! You couldn't have possibly won!” 

Oh, so this fleshling aimed to lecture him now? And since when could actions be placed upon one another as a means of canceling the other out? That made no sense with the rest of the rules! Sure, if you were not at the receiving end and were simply the player that is being skipped towards–but mid-action?? That was ridiculous, she made that up!

Her optical ridge rose and she tapped the card plainly placed upon the one he’d taken from Bumblebee. “My last card was a plus two, and I can stack it on yours. Maybe, you should have actually talked it out with your partner.”

Lightning flickered between his wings. He didn’t lose. She’d only crafted some absurd reason to disguise the fact that she was clearly only attempting to prove some point, and make Starscream look like an idiot. That’s what it was. But he couldn’t do anything about it. The human was Megatron’s little agent. Starscream would be scrapped if he did anything against her. 

Starscream’s optics were burning as he wished again that he could set those blasted cards ablaze with only his processor. This game was just another tool for them to mock him. His vents were the same.

“Chill, it’s not like losing one game is the end of the world. Even if I am definitely blaming this loss, on you. I was just the card draw scrapyard–” Bumblebee was attempting to retrieve the scattered cards, and Starscream reflexively grabbed his wrist and pulled the scout up as he rose to his peds. 

“This IS your fault!” Starscream said dangerously, even as the scout transformed out his blaster with his other servo. But as a deafening silence strangled the cavern, and Starscream stared into the bug's startled yet defiant optics…he hated it. He was doing it again. 

His anger attempted to subside, replaced by something else as his grip loosened on the bug. But the curse didn’t seem to approve of that, and it instead tried to channel its power into the servo which mistakenly held Bumblebee. Starscream’s optics widened and he wrenched his servo away. Then yelped as he found Wheeljack’s little device had sent an equal pulse up his ped in some pathetic counterattack to the power. Instead of neutralizing the surge at his servo, all it did was make him fly back clumsily, and hit his helm on the ground. All while the power still felt as if his arm was being ripped apart by scraplets.

“Uh, you guys okay over there??” Twitch called from their own game.

“Ugh…Peachy.” Bumblebee commented dryly as he picked himself up after having apparently fallen back as well. “Someone is just a sore loser.”

Starscream only sat up to grip his violently shaking servo as he glared at it. He wasn’t like Megatron. “Perhaps…It was an overreaction.” He couldn’t apologize. He was too distracted. But he could acknowledge the bug’s point. Maybe that would be enough. 

Bumblebee watched him a moment before a ridiculous grin came to his faceplate. “No kidding.” 

The scout offered Starscream a servo, and he stared at it hesitantly as the lightning slowly died from his frame. He didn’t smack it away, but he didn’t take it either. Instead, he forced his annoyingly numb right ped to cooperate as he pulled himself up. “Besides, with the human’s knack for simply realigning the rules to her whim, how could either of us be at fault? Megatron clearly taught her well.”

“Excuse me?” Dorothy put her servos on her hips. Apparently his comment was somehow offensive. Even the buckethead’s agent detested being compared to him. How poetic.

Starscream paced to give himself enough distance from bot and human alike, before tipping a servo and his hip out in unbridled sass with an innocent vocalizer, “Oh but I’d never blame you for such a thing. In fact, I might have pulled such a stunt myself if we were more acquainted. Although that was a bit of a clumsy rule you constructed in your haste. Perhaps I could give you some advice for–”

Dorothy put her servo up to silence him. “No. I didn’t make it up. Well, not right at that moment–it’s just a common house rule for the game. It makes things a bit more interesting, and can lead to crazy close calls like that.”

“Yes we would never cheat! Especially Dottie!” Her conjunx attested with a protective servo around her shoulder, which she patted with hers. Disgusting.

Starscream’s faceplate scrunched at their show of affection, but willed himself to put on a smile. “I meant no disrespect, truly.” He gave her a half-afted bow, then began assisting the bug in collecting the cards that had fallen to the floor. “So I assume we shall be shuffling the groups now then?”

Not a moment later, there was an obnoxious uproar from the kids as the Twin Blades team celebrated their victory. They had their own argument about how it was achieved, yet it seemed more out of curiosity for their strategy. Of which they happily went into dramatized detail. They all laughed and congratulated them, with playful counters at how close it had been. No one was angry, or accusatory. The only touch they shared was gentle. Starscream stared at them, transfixed. 

Sure, it was not as if he had always fought with his trinemates over such silly things. But still, there had typically been some sort of transition into a wrestling match to settle the true victor. Anything close to that here was meager at best. He wasn’t surprised…only, afflicted with a strange sense of yearning. Which was ridiculous.

“Sounds like it.” Bumblebee remarked as he placed the now reforged stack of cards on their table, then added teasingly, “Are you actually going to be my teammate this time, fly boy?”

“Yes, it seems that might be necessary.” Starscream avoided the bug’s optics as he took his seat again. 

Team NightTagBreaker switched places with Purple. He didn’t quite care for the dinobot, but the other two terrans could be rather pleasant. Although it did seem that “J.B.” was far more focused on the game than attempting to bite his peds this time. 

Starscream and Hashtag shared a glance, and he was the first to break the silence between them, “Do not expect us to go easy on you.” Mimicking her siblings’ manner of playful banter.

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” She responded with a theatrical tone and servo to her chassis. 

“If anyone should be going easy, it is us!” Nightshade added, to which the dinobot seemed to finish the thought.

“Yeah! Because–we are three bots, and you are not.”

“Don’t think that numbers are everything kids.” Bumblebee warned as he fanned out his new selection of cards in his servos. 

This time, Starscream collaborated with the bug as they discreetly disclosed which cards they possessed, and plotted how to best use them. He used his skips to instead protect his unlikely ally from unwanted card draw, until he could change the color again. As well as parrying reverses, or waiting until the other also had a plus two, as to avoid friendly fire. Perhaps that strange rule could be rather useful, when he actually knew to utilize it. Then, he also did not see why they could not stack other actions in such a way as well…

When the scout had called Uno, the dinobot attempted to skip him to postpone their victory. Unbeknownst to them, Bumblebee also had a skip card, but the bug did not place it down. A pause for dramatic effect?

Starscream cast aside his own useless cards and smacked the bug’s shoulder plating. “Reveal your card already you–eh, just what are you waiting for? We won. Cancel their action with yours!”

Bumblebee looked baffled as he stared at his card then back at Starscream. “What?? Jawbreaker skipped me, I can’t cancel that. It’s your turn. Why don’t you use that reverse card you had?”

Starscream’s wings pulled back and he ripped his cards back off the table to hit them with his other servo. “This scrap will do nothing to change it to the correct color! Why on Cybertron can you not just do as that human did before?! Countering an action of equal title mid-attack is perfectly legal in your stupid house rules! We’ve even done it multiple times this round, how is this any different?”

“Stacking only works with the plus two’s and four’s,” Nightshade attempted to explain their absurd standards, “It is not as if you can add onto one skip with another.”

“Uh-huh, you can’t do that Starscream, that’d be cheating.” J.B. insisted like a foolish child. “Right? Because, that’s definitely against the rules.”

Lightning jumped across Starscream’s frame again.

How was he the one cheating? Their “mom” had come up with it first! Noone had cared when she did it. How did it make any less sense to use the skip card in such a way than the other one? Of course the skips could be added onto one another! All they’d need to do is make it a double skip so that–if he and the scout didn’t already win–it’d send the next turn over to Hashtag. How was that concept so hard for them to understand? This game was stupid. 

Bumblebee nudged him, “Hey, we haven’t lost yet!” Starscream didn’t look at him, nor say anything for a long stint of time. “C’moooon, what cards ya got huh?”

Starscream’s optics flickered red and he took in an extended vent, then hiked his wings up with a strained grin and peak to his vocalizer. “Fine, yes, of course! Let's look at what cards I have. Numbers and a single useless reverse action? That will surely lead us to victory. Especially, when as soon as I place something down, those three will no doubt begin a chain of plus two actions of which you would be defenseless against. Or a plus four. Or they could start a reverse chain between one another. Or lock us in a color neither of us have in a plot to instigate the idiotic notion of infinite card draw!”

“You don’t know what cards we have,” Hashtag seemed to be getting frustrated with him, “And besides, it’s just a game. If we outplay you, we win, it’s not that deep!”

“Well, Uno does contain a higher percentage of RNG than skill, but that is a fair point regardless.” Nightshade nodded.

“Um, so, can we just…finish the game now?” J.B asked meekly.

Starscream’s wings swiveled up and down as he forced the stupid power back into the corner of his spark. “Sure.” He could play nice for Hashtag’s sake.

The game proceeded just about as insufferably as he anticipated. He and the bug ended with far too many cards, and Nightshade claimed the win for their team. That was fine. He didn’t care.

Every other match of that accursed Uno left Starscream and Bumblebee once again so close, only for it to be ripped away time and time again. Every instance, more inane than the last. How could they have not even won once?! The last time was entirely the bug’s fault, when he’d blatantly ignored Starscream’s order. He made sure to tell the scout just how stupid that had been, but then the others only seemed to get mad at Starscream for it instead! 

The next game that was chosen attempted to usurp the last in stupidity. The “tic-tac-toe” was near impossible to not end in a tie. It had to be replayed repetitively until a victor was concluded. It was boring, exceedingly plain, and the only viable strategy was far too easily thwarted. In fact, when Starscream was in the midst of cornering their opponent, they instead reversed it back onto him! Bumblebee had obviously ruined the whole thing with his insistence on starting in the middle when it was clearly best to start at a corner. Even when they finally did manage to succeed in one matchup, it was anticlimactic as slag. 

The next was a quite straightforward game titled “Spot-it”. All that needed to be done was match an icon on your own card with the one in the discard. And finally, Starscream was able to dominate. Every single match, he rapidly pinpointed the correct image and practically blazed through his entire stack with only minute lapses in his speed. No one stood in his way! No one even got a chance! It was glorious! 

Starscream laughed maniacally as he gained yet another point without the pathetic aid of the bug. “HAHAH you all are not even TRYING! This game is far too easy. Or perhaps you simply have a slow processor for such things, eh, Bumblebee?” He flicked the bug’s helm and fluttered his wings. Elated that he at long last obtained even a fleeting moment of triumph amongst them. “Good thing you have me to carry your constant lag.”

Bumblebee glared at him, then rolled his optics, “Riiiight. You’re taking this whole thing way too seriously.” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Starscream stated in a more dismissive than questioning manner with a slight tip of his helm and a shrug. “What’s next then?”

“Pictionary!” Hashtag held up the box with far more excitement than she’d had previously. “Nightshade and I even made more little figurines and an extended board for all of us to play together!” She and her sibling began the setup, while J.B. distributed the items required for each team. “The person who draws whatever it is rotates, then the others on your team need to guess what the person is trying to show them! The color on the board determines what subject it is, and you kinda get a bit of a clue on what it is from that too.”

Simple enough, if the bug could draw a straight line. Starscream claimed the marker first, as he was far more confident in his own artistic ability. The first object he got was a “basketball”. He didn’t know what that was, but he did know how to depict a basket and a ball separately. Surely the scout could comprehend an icon based word puzzle as simple as that. Which he did. But the words only got stranger from there, and that is where their downfall began. 

The worst of it was when there had been the perfect opportunity to draw himself throwing Megatron into the Pit–for the action topic of course–and the blasted timer ran out before he could finish! Apparently there needed to be some sort of middle ground in which to prioritize what details were necessary. He could make sacrifices for the sake of their victory, sure, yet it was still disappointing. How was he to find any sort of satisfaction in this game, if he could not at the bare minimum depict the buckethead getting tossed into a scrapheap?

Items like “Taylor Swift”, “Swan”, or “Cell Phone”, were ridiculous. Was he supposed to have done research before this blasted thing? They had to redraw cards in an attempt to acquire a usable item multiple times. Yet even then, there were many moments where the bug had far too much confidence in his ability to depict whatever it was he’d gotten. His illustrative skill was predictively lacking, and he was lucky Starscream had been able to make out any of it at all. At the very least, Bumblebee was adequate at determining what Starscream was forced to illustrate. 

Although he would admit that this game certainly seemed the most balanced, those with their ridiculous bonds and understanding of one another, inevitably gained some sort of advantage. Which got annoying fast. Every little moment longer the scout took to guess what the item was, or the next incoherent blob he depicted, made the tapping of Starscream’s ped quicken. 

Starscream growled and his wings flicked back, “NOW what is it?” He squinted as the crude image began to take some sort of shape. “The Autobots?” The bug shook his helm and gestured for it to be more general. “Cybertronians?” A gesture for him to elaborate. “What other word is there!?–” His optics flashed red, with a brief moment of his spark feeling as though it were being wrenched out of his intake, as the word came to him–“Transformers.” A disgustingly rudimentary title. Of course that was all that they were reduced to in this human game under the subject of pop culture. 

He was correct. But he still felt distant from the bug’s excitement toward their apparent close call. Starscream hit a servo against his own helm in an effort to knock out whatever had possessed him. This reflex was evidently questionable, but he was easily able to brush it off. He couldn’t have his processor glitching in the midst of this event. It would not only be quite discomfiting, but would also bring more petty disruption to something the Terrans seemed to have put a great deal of effort into. He had to keep it under control.

By the end of it, he and the bug only managed to cross half of the spaces needed to win. Infuriating. Starscream despised losing. They weren’t even able to claim second best. Pathetic. 

By the next game, Starscream was decidedly over it. 

This “Charades” only served to make one dance around like a fool in some absurd hope at expressing the word on their slip of flimsy scrap. It was near identical to the concept of the last, but regressed into something far less tolerable. Perhaps it could be more amusing if it was less about imitating Earth creatures and instead aimed toward mimicking someone else in their group. That had been a favorite amongst his trinemates back in the more tolerable cycles amidst the Decepticons.

Bumblebee flapped his arms around stupidly as he attempted to display what he’d plucked from the pile. He looked utterly ridiculous. Starscream would never catch himself offline doing such a thing. What was the bug even supposed to be? He was acting as though he were attempting to fly, similar to how Nightshade seems to need to operate their alt mode. Clearly some form of Earthen avian, but how was he supposed to know which classification was required?

“Ugh,” Starscream rubbed his optics, “what do you call those tiny avian creatures on this planet?” 

“Birds!” Twitch chirped in an oddly endearing manner.

“Right. That is what he is, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, basically.” Bumblebee halted mid motion to shrug, then whirled his arms around before finding his balance again. “Think we can count that one Alex?”

“Mmm…” Dorothy’s conjunx, Alex, squeaked his uncertainty at the notion. Obviously unsatisfied with such a vague answer.

Dorothy smacked his shoulder, although it looked like it barely connected. “I think we can give it to ‘em. Starscream hasn’t exactly gotten as acquainted with what all our little guys here are called yet.”

“I don’t need your pity points, human.” Starscream muttered in a visceral hiss. When would he have had the time to study such things? Why should he care what all these birds were labeled on this insufferable planet? He had far better things to do! Starscream had a million other exceedingly more important matters that required his brilliant processor, than reverting back to cataloging miscellaneous fauna on some backwater rock!

 “Oh, I suppose it’s alright.” Alex relented, none the wiser to Starscream’s bitter comment. “Why don’t you try another one, Bee?”

Bumblebee chuckled as the timer ran out, “Sorry pal, but I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until next time to witness my famously flawless acting skills. How about you and Dot go next? Gotta show me your moves too!”

Starscream watched the rest of them play out what remained of the game with blank optics. The images he processed paced in a choppy framerate, and the clarity distorted to a lower quality. A moment's glance at the scoreboard told him that there was absolutely no way they would win in the larger scheme of things. It meant nothing. He couldn’t even attempt to sabotage the competition, or challenge the validity of his competitors' victories. He’d surely get caught, and only gain pointless drama that’d get him into trouble. Which he did not need more of.

Had he even passed that scout’s stupid test? Even if Starscream didn’t claim the more favorable glory he sought, it’d be worse if the failure was calculated against whatever new standard Megatron sought from him. Starscream was actually surprised his ever looming Lord hadn’t made further appearance by now. He was sure something was bound to happen soon. Perhaps this was all some sort of means to get him to let his guard down. Or to determine what could be used to force him in line. Megatron might be getting a byte more creative in his time as a traitor. Even if he was attempting some type of psychological approach, surely he’d revel in any excuse to beat the slag out of Starscream for any reason he could pull out his exhaust pipe.

This whole ordeal seemed too calm. Too casual. They all had many moments of clear annoyance towards him, yet constantly held themselves back but only a few meager remarks. It was not as if he held any particular power in this situation to warrant them to fear standing against him. They only seemed unsure, or dismissive. Even occasionally acting as if their apprehension was entirely absent. They were clearly hiding something. 

Starscream had been lost in his own thoughts for so long, that he’d just about missed their little awards ceremony to conclude the night. That was until there was a crack and pop that sent a far too familiar shock through his muddled audials. He flinched and stumbled backwards away from the noise. Nearly trampling one of the Terrans but unable to utter an apology as he barely processed their presence. 

It was only a device to distribute colorful material over the crowd. Their laughter was mocking him. Their celebration over their stupid series of trials that they rigged towards their own success, was disorienting. 

Starscream was done. He’d played their games. He was not about to attempt to decode what they wanted next. 

He stealthily retreated back into his corner of the cavern. It hadn’t been all horrible, he supposed…Regardless, he was tired. They were all too loud in the wrong way. 

The curse flared with thoughts echoing some stupid impulse that’d use its power to blast them into oblivion. Then he wouldn’t have to worry about any of it. Then their threat would be neutralized.

But that wasn’t right.

Lightning flickered and stabbed across his frame as he now sat with his wings to those soaring seekers on the wall. He just wanted to leave. To fly away to a Cybertron where they were waiting for him. Where he too could enjoy such festivities. Where they’d cheer his name for his achievements. Where he could revel in their praise–perhaps even…alongside his trinemates, untainted by his mistakes.

Where…it would all feel real.

[ask-crow-aus]

<3 eh. Our followers are called cults because we’re not well known enough to be a real religion.. in most universes, anyways.

*Irony sits next to Celie, planning on learning from this as much as possible.*

{Soooooo.. what ya gonna teach us?}

<3 the basics. Let’s start easy. A deity’s power grows with their age. Once every ten centuries, either a new strength, power, or skill develops. Once you reach an age even remotely similar to mine or Irony’s, you kind of run out of things to develop, so the things developing start to strengthen. Hence why they can go incorporeal and are able to float, and totally manipulate the opacity, acidity, and weight of their mass. Most of mine are cosmetic or related to my.. subspecies, but they are always related to what we are in charge of. Once you reach a certain age, the power keeping you alive from your parents, or in some cases, your creation, will fade. Naga is just about at that age. When that happens, you need to form a cult, as most would call it, so you can feed off the devotion of your followers.

{Which is necessary for us to survive and maintain our power.}

<3 exactly. The bond between deity and follower is usually mostly one sided, as deities don’t tend to share the same emotion and devotion with their followers. I do. For the most part. Almost every Nirian is able to form a link with someone else. It’s something our bodies have naturally adapted to with the magic around us, a special type of communication typically reserved for mates, spouses, close friends, family, and tribe or clan members. It’s not uncommon for people to have four or more at any given time. Too many will make it harder to focus, though, since it spreads your magic so thin. I don’t think most people have that issue, but magic is required for most people of our nation to survive. Everything is rich with it, but the need to utilize it never became apparent until ancient dwellers, likely humans, elves, or a similar, precursor race, colonized Niria and were nearly driven to extinction from the monsters living there that had learned to consume the matter with as much of the magic as possible.

*he glanced around to make sure they were still paying attention.*

<3 With magic being so important in life, people learned how to cultivate it. It’s used in most things, now. From simple household chores that require more energy or to make food taste better. Some performers even use it to amplify their music, acting, or art. And while it can be weaponized, most people that use it in combat are aware that it has severe drawbacks, ranging from internal bleeding to organ damage to the breaking of bones. Death, in the worst cases. It’s not awful, if you don’t strain yourself constantly, but combative magic takes much more energy than other types. This is off topic, switching back to the bonds. There’s nothing inherently special about them, other than religion or closeness. They make communication easier and can be used to exchange magic, knowledge, and emotion. Like many powerful races, deities feed off of a very certain emotion. Devotion and belief. You’ll find similar behaviors in sentries who feed off fear, though they don’t need a bond for that, guardians who feed off the sense of security, or even more primal races that use it to locate prey or to stay connected over long distances as nomads.

<3 it’s nothing to scoff at, yes, but between deity and mortal, or even at times, deity and Demigod, deity and soul, it’s very natural and there’s really no strings attached. As for altars, they just make it easier to receive offerings and belief, acting as catalysts. They can be as small as a cleared off space with a rock on it. Didn’t that one church make one with a statue of you bigger than me in my eldritch form?

{A little smaller, and it was made with black marble. The detail was remarkable.}

<3 I prefer to not have altars, because I don’t really know what to do with the offerings. Irony made their receiving place for them a basin because people keep giving them blood.

{At least it’s something I can consume, I guess. I much prefer the Little rocks and charms that the little kids give me. They have more emotion behind them, and some of them even have little handmade drawings. The basin drains into a separate place to keep the blood moving, by the way. The dry stuff stays dry.}

[Celie wakes up in the morning, and stretches his arms. He's back to being a porcelain doll.]

*Irony is still standing over him.*

[t1mmytim]

Literally can’t draw rn but also literally can’t stop thinking about Buddy Daddies. Save me.

Anyways, we’re almost there! Only one more week and we get the final episode! How do you guys think it’s gonna end?

[starlooove]

Ok it’s not letting me like officially tag her but @camel-kong’s tags gave me the inch I needed to bitch about the au episode. Ppl talking about who died or what impacted it or what the real change was are blowing me bc the REAL au has to be that it’s a world where the council would care about a dead kid from zaun. I was talking to my brother about this and for the changes to be so significant the real alternate universe had to be that the explosion blew up the entire block and everyone in it and maybe a councilor was visiting that day if we’re stretching - bc ur telling me they stopped the production of hextech over jayce? Over VI! Like yes they weren’t aware of its true potential or whatever but even a weapon of that magnitude means more than one dead kid especially a dead kid from the UNDERCITY!! The au just doesn’t work for me bc it affords the council and piltover in general a benefit of the doubt that they not only haven’t earned - but have proven time and time again they don’t fucking deserve. Like it’s the equivalent of saying if politicians knew how bad poor poc felt they’d stop- like hello?

[poltergeist-punk]

why do i miss a home that is unrecognizable to me now, how did i become a stranger to the place a grew up

[damndude69]

.

[warmhappycat]

We need an option for “I was voting Dem, and now I’m voting Dem even harder.” The debate didn’t change who I’m going to vote for, but yeah, it did change my mind. Fingers crossed that I’ll make a full recovery.

[reidrum]

how dare you think it's romantic, leaving me safe and stranded

A/N: if i stared at this any longer it would never see the light of day...so here she is! this is the longest fic i've ever written and i'm kinda gagged about that but i really hope you like it and if you don't that's okay too this is just silly angsty brainrot anyways thanks for reading this my inbox is open if you wanna yap more summary: in which your kidnapping forces you and spencer to face the fallout following your recently ended relationship cw: angst, hurt/comfort, reader is kidnapped/held hostage, implications and mentions of SA to reader but nothing happens, cm type violence, ex!spencer, lowkey lovers to enemies back to lovers, cat adams, medical jargon, miscommunication trope, the bau team is family, afab!reader, pet names wc: 5.1k

Every case you and Spencer have been on has been insufferable for the rest of the team since your falling out, if it had to be given a name. Everyone always had to deal with your constant bickering and harsh words. It was the same in every case, a difference of opinions that led to incessant fighting between you two, Hotch would have to separate you both and use your joint intelligence separately for the sake of keeping everyone alive.

This last case was nothing different, a serial killer in Athens, Georgia who was religiously sacrificing young women in the name of a cult. Both of you fighting over what you believed the other to be wrong about in their part for solving the case. Spencer thought the unsub would have struck in a zone closer to his home, you assumed he was only going after women who resembled someone in his life. The real problem was that you were both wrong.

And it ended with you being held hostage.

It all happened so fast. You were in the car with Spencer and Rossi driving out to the unsub’s house to check for new evidence when you had stopped at a gas station about 15 miles out from the house to refuel. Rossi got out of the car to pump the gas, Spencer sat in the passenger seat, and you went inside to use the bathroom and grab a quick snack.

You quickly washed your hands after finishing in the bathroom and wiped your hands on your pants, still slightly damp as you turn the handle of the door. As you’re perusing the aisle looking for a snack, you can feel the presence of watchful eyes on you. Casually, you slowly look up and around at the source and clock a figure an aisle over with a cap turned downward blocking their face. 

Your gut was sending flares up, telling you that danger was near. You nonchalantly walk over to the aisle he’s in, pretending to look at the nuts and dried fruits while attempting to get a look at his face. In a (maybe not so) bright idea, you think to knock a bag of nuts on the floor next to the lurker’s feet in the hopes he’ll bend down to pick it up for you.

With a push of your hand, the bag knocks off the shelf and onto the floor and you both bend down to pick it up.

“I’m so sorry about that,” you chuckle lightly, “I’m such a clutz.”

“No problem at all, Miss—.” He stops talking all of a sudden, you’re unsure why. You follow his gaze to your left hip where your FBI credentials are peaking out.

Shit.

He draws a weapon faster than you’re able to react with getting your own out, and by the time yours is out the barrel of his is flush with your forehead.

“Drop it.”

You quickly recognize the man as your unsub, miles away from his hunting ground and about to stray from his victimology with you.

“Come on, up. We’re going for a little ride.” He snarls, glancing outside at the black SUV with your colleagues. He grabs you by a hairful and drags you out the back door, shooting the gas station clerk before making the escape with you to his pickup truck. You’re shoved against the car door, back facing him, as he place a zip tie on your wrists and opens the door to sit you in the back seat. The unsub gets in the driver’s seat and starts the car, glaring at you through the rear view mirror, “I’m gonna have fun with you, fed.”

Meanwhile, back in the car Rossi stands at the pump waiting for the tank to fill and Spencer remains in the car looking over the case details once more. He can’t help but feel something is wrong, but can’t place his finger on it. He looks over the details again meticulously, searching for a fault anywhere in your, or even his own logic. Rossi closes the tank and hops back in the car, “She’s not back yet?” he pondered.

Spencer hadn’t even realized you weren’t back yet, “I guess not,” something wasn’t right, “She went ten minutes ago right?”

Rossi nods, opening his mouth to speak when a gunshot coming from the gas station cuts him off. The men look at each other, eyes widened and rush out of the car, weapons drawn.

“FBI!” Rossi enters, looking for any sign of you but coming up empty. Spencer takes note of the disheveled store, produce and cans lying astray. He steps around the mess to find an out of place bag of sour gummy worms on the floor in the middle of an aisle only filled with nuts and dried fruit. 

Sour gummy worms were your favorite.

A sinking feeling settles in Spencer as he tries to fight the reality his brain is trying to tell him. He looks to Rossi with a pained expression, and Rossi matches it back.

“He took her.”

___

The next few hours are a blur for Spencer.

Rossi called the team to meet them at the gas station, already telling Garcia to hack into the security cameras to find any clue of where he’d taken you. Emily and Derek were checking out the crime scene, Hotch and Rossi talking to the sheriff. JJ finds Spencer staring off onto the one road connected to the station.

“We’re gonna find her, Spence.”

He whips his head up at the sound of her voice, “I should’ve realized sooner. I knew there was something off about his MO, a—and I just couldn’t place it. And now she’s gone and it’s all my fault and I never—“

“Spencer,” JJ interrupts softly, “You couldn’t have known. None of us did, even her.”

“I should have,” he laments, “And if she…if something happens to her because I wasn’t paying attention…” He trails off, too afraid of what his brain thinks is the ending of the sentence.

JJ offers him a sympathetic look, understanding the conflicting emotions, “We’ll find her, she’s strong. You know that.”

He stares back at her hoping, praying, that she’s right and you’re going to be okay. You have to be.

He’s pulled out of his head by Morgan calling him and JJ over, telling Garcia on the phone to repeat her findings.

“Okay, I think I have a lead based on the security camera footage on the car he has and where it’s been last seen. I’m sending the last known coordinates to your phones now.” 

An idea springs to him, “Garcia, can you also check the gas station records and see how much he filled his tank?”

The clacking sounds of her keyboard ring through the phone before she speaks again, “He didn’t fill a full tank, only like, fifteen miles worth of gas.”

Everyone looks up at each other in realization of what the new information means. You had to be close by. Morgan walks over to tell Hotch, who immediately talks to a state ranger about setting up a 15 mile radius around the gas station with monitored roadblocks, no entry or exit without inspection. 

After Hotch finishes he walks back to Spencer and lays a hand on his shoulder, “Good job, Reid,” He nods back with a thin lipped smile and fiddles with his pen anxiously, “Are you okay?”. Spencer can’t tell if he’s genuinely asking him or if he’s asking him for the sake of him being able to do his job properly considering the circumstances. Ever the profiler that man is, he thinks.  He nods again nonetheless and walks over to meet Derek at the car.

Spencer and Derek get into the car and set the route for the coordinates Garcia gave, ETA 14 minutes. He swallows nervously, do you even have 14 minutes? What if he’s too late? What if you’re not even there? What if he never got to tell you—

“Reid. Are you even listening?”

“What?”

Derek raises his eyebrows as he glances at his friend, “Got something on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re a shit liar, man.”

“I’m not lying.” Even he doesn’t believe himself.

“Spencer—“

“I’m just worried! Okay? We’re all worried, it’s not a big deal.” he snaps.

Derek stops at a red light and looks over the console, “I’m going to ignore whatever that was,” guilt sweeps over Spencer’s face as he continues, “I’m not stupid kid, I know how you’re feeling. But you can’t let whatever turmoil you got in that big brain of yours affect this case. Not now.”

“I know that, Morg—“

“No, you don’t. I know you’re thinking about her, we all are. And we all want—need—her to be okay too. We will find her, but we can’t let the unsub get away too.”

Spencer sighs outwardly seeing the truth in his words. As concerned as he was about you he needed to remember this was still an active case. He couldn't let your past with each other cloud his judgement, even if the fallout still haunts him every day of his life. He needs to save you, but he also has a job to do. He just wasn’t sure if he’d remember that when they finally found you.

——

A pounding in your head stirs you awake, the bitter taste of metal flooding your senses as you come to. You blink a few times adjusting to the lowlights of the unfamiliar environment, hoping to find something distinguishable to ground you back to reality. It doesn’t help once you realize the blood crusted over your eye is the reason for your obscured vision. You attempt to rub it off on your shoulder ignoring the sharp pains shooting up from the abrasive contact. 

Once you think you’ve cleared enough you blink a few more times registering your surroundings to be a house, a cabin more accurately. Your memory is a little fuzzy as you try to recount what happened before you were knocked out cold.

Gas station. Unsub. Unsub at the gas station? But where was I…I went to the bathroom… and was getting…gummy worms?… But Rossi and Spencer were just outside… now I’m here…so does that means the unsub—

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

You jolt at the voice—the unsub you’ve come to remember—and you realize your hands are tied up behind your back, quickly coming to the second realization that you are rendered both injured and immobile.

“What do you want, Jason?” you say hoarsely after a minute.

He chuckles, “I didn’t know they made them so pretty at the academy…” he walks over and kneels in front of you, gripping your chin between his forefinger and thumb to move your head, “They probably kept you around for…entertainment right?”

You whip your head, “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Oh, you’re feisty. That’s good, keep it up. Makes this more fun.” he walks back over to the table and fiddles with something, you can’t really tell from the floor, “So how’d they make it work back in—what is it called—Quantico! They take turns with you or? There’s so many of y’all, probably had a system.”

The pounding in your head makes it more difficult to process anything he’s saying, “The hell are you talking about, take turns with what?” you ask, wincing through another wave of pain.

He turns around holding a metal rod and walks over, angling the rod under your chin to tilt your face up to meet his as he snarls, “I can’t wait to see how it feels to fuck a federal whore.”

All the color drains from your face and you kick into whatever gas is left in your autopilot. Your feet are flailing in every direction, body thrashing violently to prevent Jason from getting a good grip on you. You quickly learn the purpose of the metal rod hearing the clang! first, a millisecond passing before the pain and threat of unconsciousness spreads through your brain. 

The hit takes you out long enough for him to pin you down on the floor, the weight of his body landing on you before the metal rod goes for your limbs. It’s then you realize the throes of death have wrangled you for what appears to be the last time, and it’s probably wise to start saying—thinking— your final words.

To my parents, I love you. To Derek and Penelope, thank you for letting me third wheel with you. Emily, I’ll miss our weekend Sin City excursions. JJ, please give your boys the biggest hug from their favorite aunt. Rossi and Hotch, you always cared for me like I was your own—I am so grateful for you.

And Spencer…Oh, Spencer. How I hoped I would have the time to say I’m sorry for what happened, I hope you’ll forgive me in due time. I wish I told you that nothing about us ever changed for me. You were and will always be, My Spencer, I just wish I could tell you one more time how much I lov—“

“FBI, Drop your weapon!”

A clattering sound of something dropping rings directly next to your ear and the weight that was on you alleviates at the same time. You groan out and instinctively curl up on yourself, the pain spreading throughout your body. The sensory overload is so much you don’t hear the approaching figure crouching next to you.

“Hey Hey Hey,” Spencer stutters, quickly making work of the ties on your hands and holding you gently as he lays your head on his lap cradling you close, trying to hide the forming tears when he hears your whimpers of pain, “You’re okay, it’s okay. The medic’s coming.” He looks back to where the unsub was and watches Derek put him in cuffs, nodding at Spencer before walking out with Jason.

“…Spencer?” you whisper out weakly. You think you’re dreaming honestly, that in the wake of death you learn heaven isn’t a place but only his arms.

“Yeah, honey, it’s me.” he chokes out looking back down at your bruised face. He’s unsure how you still look angelic even when you’re hurt, but it doesn’t surprise him that you do. You were always good at defying the laws of nature, he prayed it extended to your immortality.

“It hurts.” you pout pathetically.

He brushes a strand of hair out of your eyes gently, “I know it does, honey I know. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry this happened. I should’ve been there. I’m sorry, baby.” he whispers tearfully.

You cough out and whimper in pain, “I’m sorry too.”

Spencer shakes his head vehemently, “No, don’t apologize. Don’t do that, just keep your eyes open for me, okay? I’m right here, I won’t leave you.”

The tiredness soon wins and your eyes flutter close. Before Spencer can even panic and beg you to open them again the medic finally comes and asks him—pulls him— to move so they can start working on you.

He reluctantly backs up and watches on with glossed over eyes, barely registering all the things they were sticking in you to wake you up. The medics stabilize your neck with a C-SPINE and lift you onto the gurney, wheeling you back to the ambulance. The same medic who asked Spencer to move comes up to him again, “We’re taking her to Georgetown Medical, you’re allowed to ride in the back with us if you want.”

You slowly come to again on the gurney and Spencer meets your open eyes before you even realize they’re on you. Without hesitation he says, “Yeah, I’m coming.”

The medic team lifts your gurney inside the rig, and right before Spencer gets in he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns around to find Hotch, “You’ll be okay?” 

It’s a loaded question. He’s not asking if Spencer is okay at this moment, because it doesn’t take a profiler to see that he’s the farthest from it. He says it as a grounding reminder knowing how Spencer gets about you. It didn’t matter to the team if you both fell out, the pair of you never faltered in your subconscious for each other. Both of your actions always moved faster than your brains, especially when it involved the other. 

That’s what worried his Unit Chief.

He nods and Hotch gives his shoulder a light squeeze, “Keep us updated,” the concern clearly etched in his eyes breaking through his usual stoicism as he looks inside the rig, “We’ll meet you there as soon as we can.”

Under the bright lights of the ambulance he’s—unfortunately—able to really take inventory of the injuries you sustained. The blue and black bruising scattered your limbs, the congregation of it on your stomach telling him you have at least two broken ribs. His eyes trail further down your body before abruptly stopping, but not on an appendage.

Spencer’s face pales even further than it already has staring at the glint on the undone button of your trousers shining in the reflection of the light.

If they didn’t get there when they did…If he got to you a second later…He can’t even fathom to think about what would’ve happened.

He’s broken out of his spiral by the EMT sitting next to him offering a tissue, which is when Spencer feels the tear and snot streaks rolling down his face. He takes it and wipes his face mindlessly before muttering, “Can I just…” hands reaching out to you before his words come out. Spencer doesn’t notice the EMT tearing up as he gently buttons your pants.

——

You were a fighter.

At least, that’s what the doctors told Spencer when they came and updated him in the waiting room. He blanks out for most of the conversation, eyes unfocusing and ears on low lest your name be spoken.

“She’s stable and awake now, the nurse can take you back to see her.”

He shakes his head to recenter and mutters a thank you before following the nurse through the double white doors. His senses are heightened as he walks closer to your room. The scuff of his shoes on the linoleum floors, the pedantic beeping of machines in the rooms he passes, until he hears the only voice that’s ever been enough to calm the warzone in his mind.

“Hi, Spence.”

His feet move on their own accord right next to your bedside, hands hovering awkwardly at his side. He’s silent for the first couple minutes, just a faint sniffle here and there before he takes a seat near your bed and hears you speak again.

“You can touch me, Spence. I won’t break more than I already am.”

“Don’t say that,” he chides quickly, “It’s not a joke.”

“Well, someone should be the comedic relief here.”

He lays the tips of his fingers right on top of the tips of yours, “You could have died.”

Your face softens, “I didn’t though.”

“You could have.”

“Spencer—“

“Stop down playing it. You don’t know what it was like finding you like that.”

“I mean I have some idea, ‘cause like, I was there.” 

Spencer deadpans at your poor attempt at lightening the mood, a faint smile peaking through while he shakes his head, “Insufferable even at your deathbed.”

“Yeah, the Grim Reaper heard me yapping and said ‘keep her’.”

He chuckles softly as his hand moves further up to rest the front of his palm on the back of your hand, “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve…been better. The doctor said one of my broken ribs punctured an artery, a big one apparently,” you flip your hand over so both of your palms are touching but not laced, you softly continue, “Told me I was lucky I came in when I did. Any later the internal bleeding would’ve spread to my lungs.”

Spencer feels the tears springing again and a lump forming in his throat, “I’m so sorry, sweet girl,” the pet name slipping out before he could realize, “I should’ve gotten there sooner, or realized something was wrong at the gas station.”

“Hey. Don’t do that. You saved my life.” your fingers intertwine with his and squeeze with whatever strength you can muster, which isn’t a lot and it makes his heart clench tighter. “I’m here.”

He lets out the breath he’s been holding since he walked in, “You’re here.”

“I didn’t forget what you promised me when we…broke up,” God you wish it didn’t sound so terminable as it did, “I knew you’d find me. You always do.”

Another sniffle leaves him as he rubs his thumb soothingly on your hand, “I always do…Look, there’s something I need to tell you—“

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Penelope & Company burst into your room bearing balloons, chocolates, and many, many stuffies.

“How’s our girl doing?” Penelope huffs, hauling an entire Hallmark catalog worth of gifts in tow.

“She’s doing fine, Penny.” you chuckle lightly, trying your best to hide the wince of pain from your side, “You did not need to do all this.”

“Nonsense, everyone knows bear stuffies are the real medicine of the world.” she gleefully ignores the nurse onlookers, “I also brought you this, of special request by someone who shall not be named.” From her back she produces a bag of your favorite candy—sour gummy worms. A fact that you knew only one person was privy to.

You act surprised nonetheless, “My favorite! Thank you, Penny. And all of you, for coming to see my crippled self.”

Spencer watches the team take turns doting on you. Emily, JJ, and Penelope sit with you for about four Gilmore Girls episodes—another lost relic of modern medicine, according to Penny—after which Morgan, Rossi, and Hotch keep you company for a little bit before bidding you good night with forehead kisses and well wishes. Spencer stays with you the whole time, never once leaving your side. 

You are so loved, he thinks. He didn’t realize how much he liked watching you be loved. It makes him miss the times when he could do that for you too.

——

Weeks pass since the day of your kidnapping. You still find it weird to call it that, even though it’s literally what happened. You’ve been on house arrest—bed rest—begrudgingly, and while Penelope’s very glittery visiting schedule has kept you entertained, it’s been hard when the only person you really wanted to see has refused to come visit since you left the hospital.

You’ve asked Penelope why Spencer hasn’t come, and all she can offer you is a sad smile and a ‘He said something come up sweetie, sorry.’. Texting him seemed even more daunting, more because you weren’t about to beg for his attention if he obviously doesn’t want you to have it. 

The doorbell steals your attention and you glance over at the schedule before you walk over to open it, not expecting a visitor at this time.

Spencer looks up from his shoes hearing the door open, “Hey.”

A minute passes, “Why are you here?” you ask bluntly.

He looks confused, “I came to check on you, brought you takeout from the Indian place you like.” The food in his hand smells heavenly but you can’t seem to enjoy it yet without getting an answer.

“Why are you here, now?” you ask again with an addendum.

He either really wants to piss you off or his ear blew out on the way over but he chooses to ignore you and enter your apartment, “You having nightmares again?”

“What? No…” you lie poorly, straightening up your back, “Just tired.”

He chuckles, “Good to know you’re still a terrible liar. Did you know you wear Doctor Who shirts when you’re feeling anxious?”

Your brows fuddle in confusion but he elaborates, “It’s probably subconscious, something you find comforting and naturally gravitate to in times of distress. It’s a normal stress response but…you’re wearing an Eleventh Doctor shirt.” My Eleventh Doctor shirt, he thinks.

“That doesn’t mean anything.” you feign.

“Maybe it doesn’t,” he nods, “But you are anxious aren’t you?”

“Spencer, what the fuck is going on, why are you here, really?” your eyes narrow, arms crossing defensively.

“I told you, I came to check on you.”

“You just woke up this morning and decided it was convenient for you to see me today?” Spencer opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. You stare at him with tearful eyes and the emotion spills out of you before you can stop it. You speak again after a few moments, voice barely above a whisper, “You left me. Again.”

He tilts his head, “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.” you grit out, “You were rooted at my bedside the entire time I was hospitalized, and the second I was discharged you were nowhere to be found. I thought, maybe with Penny’s schedule you’d come by, but then I came to find out that you didn’t even put your name down.”

“You almost died!” he retorts, “You almost died, because I made a mistake and you got hurt because of it!”

“So, that gives you the right to abandon me for the second time?”

“I didn’t…” he sighs out roughly, “I didn’t abandon you. I just, couldn’t…face you.” Face you, in pain, as a result of his actions.

“Is that what happened the first time you left?” you bite back.

His eyes steel over, “That was different.”

“I don’t see how.”

“You know why I left.”

“I don’t think I do, Spencer—”

“I left because I was putting you in danger!” he yells cutting you off, “I left because loving you meant dragging you into all the messed up stuff that happens to me, stuff that’ll keep happening to me.”

Tobias. Mexico. Cat.

A single tear rolls down your face, “That’s bullshit, I’m sorry. We work the same damn job, the risks are the same if we’re together or not.”

“You don’t understand—“

“Then fucking enlighten me, Spencer.”

He stares at you, fighting an internal battle of whether he was really willing to admit his truth to you, one that he knows you deserved to know but wasn’t sure if it would put you more in harm's way.

“Cat had details about your family.”

That’s not what you were expecting to hear. Your face drops, “Wh—What?”

His eyes dart around the room nervously, “After I got out of Millburn and we went to see Cat, she was trying all these tactics to get me to break. I was doing fine, until she started talking about you. She was saying things that only you told me, stuff that’s not even on record.”

You remember that day. You were supposed to go with him and JJ to the correctional facility but ended up stuck at the BAU because your skill set was more valuable in helping Penelope locate Mr. Scratch. You remember how he came back to you that day, distant and glassed over. It was easy to chalk up his behavior following it to his recent release, but when you woke up a few weeks later to an empty bed and a throwaway note saying ‘I’m sorry.”, you couldn’t figure out for the life of you why all of a sudden you didn’t exist to him, like you didn’t matter.

“I made a choice, one that I knew would protect you.”

“That’s not a decision for you to make.” you snap.

“I had to,” he says lowly, taking a step closer to you, “If being with me puts your safety at risk…” another step, “I’d rather live in a world where you hate me and are still here…” one more step, “Than one where you loved me and died because of it.” he manages to choke out, taking one final step towards you.

It’s quiet for a couple minutes, save for the soft whistle of the breeze coming from your open window. The resolve in you has long faded, leaving behind nothing but the skin on your bones to weather the damage. It makes sense to you why he did what he did, and you don’t know if the roles were reversed would you do the same thing. But you knew that you loved him and he loved you, and that alone should have been enough.

You can’t help but let out a whine, sounding like a petulant child, “That’s not fair, Spence.”

“What’s not fair, baby?” he softly whispers.

Your whine turns into a cry, “That, all of this. The fall on your sword act in which you decide what’s best for me is to leave me stranded, thinking I did something wrong that made you stop loving me.”

He steps forward a little more, his face mere inches from your own, “You think I stopped loving you?”

“Was I supposed to think otherwise? You couldn’t even stand being in the same room as me.”

His hands raise to gently cup your face, thumbs positioned under your eyes to wipe the fallen tears. He’s missed looking into your eyes as close as he is. For a man who doesn’t believe in religion he’s pretty certain the gates of heaven lie within your irises.

“I was selfish,” he swallows, “I wanted to keep you safe but I did so in a way that I felt was most logical, which turned out to be so fucking wrong regardless since you still got hurt.”

He brings your face impossibly closer, the warmth of his breath gently hitting your face.

“There isn’t a waking moment where I don’t love you. Even when we weren’t together, I still looked out for you and I made sure you were safe in ways I couldn’t tell you. I meant what I said. I told you I’d find you in every lifetime. I love you, in every lifetime, angel girl.”

The ache in your heart only grows with his words, reminding you that he always was and will forever be, Your Spencer.

“You can’t do that again,” you stutter out through tiny sobs, “You need to tell me what’s going on, whatever it is. We figure it out together.”

He nods softly, the hair on his forehead faintly brushing up on yours, “We figure it out together. I’m so sorry for everything, baby.” his lips press a long kiss to your forehead, “I’m here now, I’m not going anywhere.”

You rise on your toes to meet your lips with his, the missed time and unspoken words flowing silently between you both. His hands wrap gently around your waist and pull you flush to his chest, with yours entangling with the brown curls you had missed so much.

Finally back in his arms, you sigh with exhaustion and relief, “You’re here.”

“I’m here, honey.”

[fastandcarlos]

The Littlest Surprise : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: when your lack of presence around the paddock is noted, fans start to speculate. little do they know the real reason for your disappearance…

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

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liked by ynusername, carlossainz55 and 2,483,608 others

charles_leclerc: always a joy to have my beautiful niece and nephew at the race and enjoy my biggest fans cheering me on ❤️🏎️

328,605 comments

username1: wondering at what point yn actually decides to show her face again…

carlossainz55: and there i was thinking you were waving up at me 💔

charles_leclerc: @/carlossainz55 when you’re as cute as these two I’ll consider it 😘

username2: some support yn is constantly leaving you at races alone

username3: how come the whole family managed to be there apart from yn 🙃

maxverstappen1: it must be easy being the cool uncle with all that money to your name!

username4: the best uncle is gonna make the best dad too one day 😭

oscarpiastri: how come cousin oscar didn’t get to meet these cool guys!?

charles_leclerc: @/oscarpiastri they only wanna meet the cool drivers 😂

landonorris: @/charles_leclerc you shoulda brought them over to me then 😎

username5: I don’t wanna be that person, but it’s been a long time since we saw yn on the feed…

pierregasly: it was so nice to see them both this weekend 🫶🏻

username6: can we all just calm down, I’m sure yn and charles are fine!!

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liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 3,693,127 others

charles_leclerc: the race of dreams, so proud of how the whole team performed this weekend 🏆❤️

372,579 comments

landonorris: super race my friend, enjoy the celebrations 🎉

username7: a whole podium and still no sight of yn anywhere 🤔

username8: anyone thought that yn might just be busy??

maxverstappen1: btw I let you have this one 😂

charles_leclerc: @/maxverstappen1 yeah sure you did… 😂😂😂

username9: congratulations charles, so deserved this weekend 🏆

username10: at least the team is there to celebrate with you 🙄

carlossainz55: ik how much this means to you, couldn’t be happier for you brother ☺️

username11: I’m sure yn and charles will celebrate together, with privacy…

username12: I’m so proud of you winning your home race!!

arthur_leclerc: I’ve got the perfect plans for this evening don’t worry about a thing 🤔

charles_leclerc: @/arthur_leclerc that immediately makes me worry 😬

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liked by arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 2,979,261 others

charles_leclerc: enjoying the off season with my favourite people. just a reminder to mind your business during this off season, there’s nothing to worry about with me 🤍🌊

276,318 comments

username13: charles really telling us to mind our damn business 😂

oscarpiastri: if you need anything you know where I am!

username14: hoping this is charles’ way of telling us him and yn are fine 🙏🏻

landonorris: couldn’t agree with you more 👏🏻

username15: I always knew you guys would be alright!!

carlossainz55: I’ve got your backs always ☺️

danielricciardo: sending you both good vibes for the summer ☀️

username16: enjoy the break charles and the peace and quiet for a while!

arthur_leclerc: getting ready for the best summer ever 💪🏻

username17: hope you and yn get to have the rest you deserve ☀️

carmenmmundt: if yn needs me, I’m only a phone call away ❤️

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liked by charles_leclerc, iamrebeccad and 538,708 others

ynusername: we’ve been keeping a little secret. charles and i are so proud to tell you that baby leclerc will be with us in the new year. it’s been a far from easy process but we’re so excited 👼💞

32,129 comments

charles_leclerc: you’ve been so incredibly strong, I cannot begin to tell you how proud I am of you ❤️

username18: ah I’m so happy for you guys ☺️☺️☺️

username19: so pleased to hear you’re on the mend yn 💞💞

arthur_leclerc: present and ready to be the coolest uncle in the world 🎉

username20: I’m so ready for charles’ dad era!!!!

lilymhe: cannot wait to visit you and get all the baby cuddles in the world soon 👼

username21: shout out to all the people sending congratulations who were convinced they’d broken up 🙄

carlossainz55: I’m gonna be back at ferrari every week making sure I visit now 😂

charles_leclerc: @/carlossainz55 can williams offer you an adorable baby like we can??

username22: this is the best news ever, cannot believe my fave duo are going to be parents…

pierregasly: ik just how much you guys have wanted this, couldn’t be happier for you both!!

username23: I’ve been dreaming of a post like this for so long and now it’s finally true 😭

oscarpiastri: buzzing to welcome another leclerc into our family 😂🫶🏻

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liked by oscarpiastri, pierregasly and 3,126,084 others

charles_leclerc: making sure to capture all the moments with my best friend and bump 📸

427,102 comments

landonorris: the caption said best friend…but I wasn’t on this trip with you??

charles_leclerc: @/landonorris do I have to explain this to you??

username24: it’s not fair how two expecting parents can be so cute ☺️

ynusername: thank you for choosing the photo where I don’t look like a swollen mess 😘

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername you look breathtaking in every photo I have of you!

username25: I bet charles’ camera roll is absolutely adorable rn 😭

arthur_leclerc: you better be taking care of the best sister in law in the world!!

ynusername: @/arthur_leclerc you’re only saying that cause I’m pregnant 😂

username26: I wish I could pull off pregnancy as well as yn omg

username27: the cutest set of photos I’ve ever seen in my life

maxverstappen1: make the most of all the peace and quiet whilst you still can!!

username28: now this just makes me feel incredibly single 💔

username29: this is the definition of living the dream now

carlossainz55: can’t believe you guys went out on the boat without me 😭

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liked by charles_leclerc, carmenmmundt and 688,329 others

ynusername: one last race for me for the season, charles has officially now put me on house rest until the baby arrives 😂❤️

69,271 comments

username30: get plenty of rest baby mama… you deserve it!

charles_leclerc: forever cheering me on, see you at home soon 💕

username31: thank you for always being by charles’ side ❤️🏎️

georgerussell63: make sure if you need anything you give carmen a call!!

username32: what are we going to do without you in the paddock?? 😭

iamrebeccad: can’t believe we’re never gonna be in the same paddock again 💔

ynusername: @/iamrebecad I promise to come and visit as soon as I’m back 💞

username33: I can just imagine charles refusing to even let you lift a finger too!

username34: counting down til baby leclerc arrives now 🥺

lewishamilton: looking forward to being right beside you next year and babysitting 😂😂

username35: pls make sure you get plenty of rest, make the most of sleep whilst you can!!

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liked by ynusername, oscarpiastri and 2,787,134 others

charles_leclerc: making sure to not let these two idiots feel left out as we prepare for the baby to arrive…turns out they are actually quite needy 😂🥺

427,098 comments

username36: I love how needy the leclerc boys are ❤️❤️

arthur_leclerc: I will be round your house every single day don’t you worry 😂

charles_leclerc: @/arthur_leclerc changing the locks as we speak!

username37: they’re definitely not gonna be left out, they’re never gonna leave your side 😂

landonorris: I feel like I’m looking at promo for the next boy band or something… 🤮

username38: not emotionally prepared for these photos…

ynusername: my three favourite human beings 🫶🏻

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername I better be the number one!!

username39: I love the bond these guys have 🥺

oscarpiastri: seems you were forgetting an important part of the family here 🤔

username40: bet charles is secretly hoping for a boy to add to this trio!!

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liked by lilymhe, carlossainz55 and 693,172 others

ynusername: btw charles has been using this holiday to practice everything he knows about babies and doing nothing else 😂 according to him he’s perfect 🥺

57,183 comments

username41: the baby isn’t even here yet but I already know charles is gonna be the cutest dad in the world

carlossainz55: rebecca says these photos have got her in her feels…so kindly stop ���

ynusername: @/carlossainz55: bets it’s you guys next 🥳

username42: look at how much of a natural he is 😭

pierregasly: btw he’s not stopped telling me how excited he is to become a dad 😂

username43: my heart can’t cope with the dad feels rn

charles_leclerc: thanks for flexing how good of an uncle I am 💪🏻

username44: thank you yn for blessing my timeline with these 🙏🏻

landonorris: were these just an excuse to post topless charles again???

username45: if you ask me, charles is most definitely perfect 😂

username46: can the baby just hurry up and arrive now pls…

lilymhe: you just wait until it’s your baby he’s holding instead 🥲

ynusername: @/lilymhe I cannot wait 🥺

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liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 4,329,059 others

charles_leclerc: we are so happy to share that our baby boy is here…mum and son are doing amazing and i’ve just about stopped crying for now 🥺💕

576,301 comments

username47: crying. screaming. throwing up.

arthur_leclerc: I’ve never been prouder of the two of you than I am right now!!

username48: congratulations charles and yn, we’re so happy for you 🥺

oscarpiastri: welcome to the family little one 🥺😂

username49: another boy to add to the leclerc family 🥳

scuderiaferrari: welcome to the newest member of the tifosi ❤️🏎️

landonorris: I’ve been refreshing my feed all day 😂 so glad he’s here and healthy 💕

username50: his little face, I can’t cope with how cute he is 😭

carmenmmundt: glad to hear mum and baby are good, get plenty of rest you three 😘

pierregasly: it’s not fair, how do you guys manage to make such cute babies!?

username51: can already tell this dude is gonna be a heartbreaker one day!

lewishamilton: so pleased he’s here safely, congrats you two!!

username52: he’s finally here omg 🥺

carlossainz55: could not be happier for you guys, cannot wait to meet little man 💞

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[albedobeheading]

guys like. pretty much nothing has happened today, but I’m heavily feeling like I wish I could just completely rename myself and remove myself from both sides of my family. like it feels like one of my dad’s brothers isn’t toxic and none of my mom’s siblings are feasible to be my parent so I can just kinda imagine yanno like what if I’d been a different sperm or egg or in a different universe yanno. but I don’t know what I’d want to be called.

[luludeluluramblings]

Smalltown!Neglected!Meta!Reader x Yandere!Batfam ☁️ Part Six

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Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Four ☁️ Part Five ☁️ Part Seven ☁️ Part Eight

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A/N: Sorry it took so long. I just haven’t been satisfied with this, but I think I just need to bite the bullet and let it go. I’ve had this in the drafts for a while and have edited it three times.

A/N: I think I might focus on some blurbs. Or, if y’all want, y’all can submit ideas for what Smalltown is gonna be like. I gotta write down a general background for Reader’s childhood there. I have a plan, but wouldn’t mind y’all toss some ideas on to the pile.

A/N: Thank you 🐑 Anon for the happy birthday wishes!

Warning: Kidnapping, Hostage Situation for Reader, Guns, Violence, Death, Yandere Behavior and themes

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After the initially panic and dread of being kidnapped settles into Reader’s bones, they’re quickly brought to the Iceberg Lounge. Where a Penguin waits to discuss the details of their ransom with them. He’s kidnapped a Wayne or two over the years, but with how well hidden the family has kept their newest member he might as well scope them out and see if he can make a pretty penny from ransoming them. Give them a proper Gotham introduction.

When Penguin finally has Reader he wrongly expects typical Gotham high society behavior. Threats, insult, bargaining, begging, bribing, hell, even crying. But, Reader, even while terrified, keeps being polite. Referring to him as Mr. Penguin, Sir, and saying please and thank you, while doing exactly what they’re told. Honestly, Reader’s more polite and respectful than half his goons and his own goddamn children. Such a damn shame they couldn’t have been his brat.

So he chats with them. Just for a bit.

How does Reader like Gotham? Who’s their favorite bat brat? What’s their favorite food? How much money did your Momma and Daddy leave you? Just friendly get-to-know you questions to help with the nerves. No need to worry. Everyone’s a bit scared during their first kidnapping. But, do they usually live past the first one, sir? Oh, you’re a smart one, aren’t ya? You’ll have to be careful with that.

It’s all quite tense for Reader, just sitting in an empty club with a dangerous man. That is, until word comes in that Bruce Wayne is paying the ransom in full. Apparently, it made Gotham headlines. The newest Wayne kidnapped. It’s all over the News, nearly every channel. Yet, Reader notices something. Why don’t they show my face, sir? It’s because this isn’t going to be your last time getting kidnapped. You’re in Gotham, baby bird. We’re all hostages in this city. How sweet of them to try to protect you from it.

It isn’t long after that, when the lounge gets visitor before the ransom money could even be dropped off.

Red Hood.

One of the Bat Brats, as Penguin calls him. His arrival raising Cain. Rubber bullets and real ones flying everywhere. Penguin gets a hold of Reader, rest his umbrella gun to their temple. Come now, Red. Don’t make me blow their pretty little head off. I’m actually fond of this one. Best of the Wayne bunch, in my not-so-humble opinion.

And, in one of the few times since becoming Red Hood, Jason hesitates. Because if he fails, if Reader gets hurt like he did, he’ll probably burn Gotham to the ground. It’s not an option. He can’t, he won’t, and he will not allow it. And, that thought, is at the forefront of his mind as he looks at Reader’s terrified face with a gun pointed at their head.

The pause, however, is noticeable. Not just to Reader, but to Penguin as well. A sign of weakness or a sign of something more foreboding. It last for a brief moment. Then Red Hood is back in action. Only, in that single moment, a decision was made. A dark decision. Something that had been healed and supposedly buried.

Batman had always fostered the importance of preparedness in them. So, of course, Jason had a magazine of live bullets ready to go for an emergency. And, this was a fucking emergency. Who cares about a few goons? And Penguin fucking deserves it.

Bruce will understand this time. How sad is it that he does?

Penguin barely escapes, with only a handful of his men still breathing and a few bullets in his shoulder, but he lives. Along with the information that the newest Wayne brat is precious enough to a Bat Brat to break the no-kill code again. Though, that might in itself become a problem for Gotham. Once again, Gotham will baptized in blood. Only, the sins are still growing under the red water. Perhaps, this time Gotham will drown in it instead.

Jason grabs a shaking and terrified Reader while leaving the lounge filled with bodies. He’ll take care of it later. Right now he needs to get Reader back to the manor, or somewhere anywhere safe. Away from Gotham, away from its criminals, and, most of all, away from him.

For a moment he had been… enraptured when he saw how scared his precious Reader looked with a gun to their head. How they looked at him with such a pitiful pleading expression. The way the shook and quaked. How fucking big their eyes got in fear.

Reader kept looking at him with those same watery fearful eyes. Those shaking fingers. A tremble that they must be all the way down to their bones. Cute. Cute. Cute. Cute. Cute.

He didn’t make it for before he snapped, grabbing Reader’s face to ask what they talked with Penguin about. What did he want from you? Why did you look so friendly with him? Don’t you know he’s a criminal. He’s dangerous. He just wants to see them cower like that again. Just once more.

It takes a long moment for him to calm down and pull himself away from terrifying Reader. Eventually, noticing an oncoming storm and realizing he had better get Reader somewhere safe and back to Bruce so he can go back and clean up the trash.

Jason leaves a throughly shaken and distraught Reader on the GCPD roof. Right next to a lit Bat Signal for a tired Jim Gordan to find.

Jim finds Reader in the storm, mildly despondent from the entire ordeal. After ushering them inside and trying to lightly question them, he makes a call to Bruce that Red Hood had rescued Reader and they the GCPD had them safe. Bruce, naturally , breaks all sorts of traffic laws to get to them when he hears the concerned tone in Jim’s voice.

Reader, exhausted from the days events and shock, falls asleep in one of the spare chairs in the GCPD building. Bruce practically melts in relief when he finds them, picking them up and gently loading them in his car. NOT A DAMN TRUCK. To take them back home. Most of the GCPD find the gesture touching. What a sweet father he is. How lucky Reader is to have such a loving father.

Arriving home, Bruce puts Reader to bed, and makes sure Alfred is on stand by to comfort them and see to their every need. Watch them. Let me know if there’s even the slightest sign of a nightmare.

After taking a moment to let his eyes linger on a sleeping Reader, he heads down into the Batcave. Calling the family together for a meeting.

Stephanie is distraught. It’s her fault Reader got taken, all her fault. She shouldn’t have left them alone. She should have been right there be their side the entire time. At every moment and got every second.

And, Bruce, with deceptively calm yet devastating words, confirms just as much.

Surprisingly, there’s no shouting. No disagreements. Not from Stephanie, and certainly not from any one else. Just the cold realization that it was her fault Reader was nearly hurt and the solemn acceptance of it. They were supposed to have a chance to get close. Stephane won’t ever let it happen again. She’ll always be close from now on. In every way she can. Even if she’s not worthy.

Jason having gone back to clean up his mess before reporting back to Bruce and the others had more startling news. No one mentions a thing when they see the blood on him. Nor the empty magazines. Nor that familiar look in his eyes that reminds them of when he first came back. Someone had torched the Iceberg Lounge before he got back. Penguin is still running free, but the lounge is up in fire and smoke.

He did manage to see a figure leaving when he finally saw past the flames.

A Talon.

The Court of the Owls was active once more.

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With the whole Kidnapping thing and the Court being active again despite its previous destruction, Reader’s life went on completely lockdown. They aren’t allowed to go into Gotham at all. Not that they wanted to. The only reason Bruce didn’t just unenrolled them from Gotham Academy is because Damian, Cassandra, and Duke vow to watch them closely and report everything back to him.

Alfred, from then on, drives them all to and from school. Leading to quiet, bordering awkward, mornings and afternoons.

After the whole ordeal with Penguin and Red Hood, Reader is ninety percent certain the family is Gotham’s Bat vigilantes. Mainly due to the fact that Red Hood reminded Reader eerily of how Jason acted to be around them. Luckily, he barely managed to hold himself back. But, it was clear, enjoyed their fear and wanted to scare them. The whole situation resulted in Reader’s momentarily loss of control.

It also didn’t help that everyone seemed to disappear now.

Sure, Reader rides to school with Cassandra and Duke everyday. Damian is also there, but he just silently watches them with those poisonous green eyes of his. The three of them now hovering in the distance down the back of Reader’s neck. Nevertheless, as soon as they were all back in the Manor, the place becomes like a ghosttown. Even Alfred disappears for hours on end now.

Reader rightful assumes it’s more Bat work. But, there’s no one there to talk about how the incident made them feel. To help them verbally process the ordeal. It hurts.

What hurt the most, however, was Stephanie avoiding them.

Now, if Stephanie had just given them even an empty excuse and left the room it probably wouldn’t have hurt so much. But, to watch the blood drain from Stephanie’s face at the sight of Reader and then physically run away from them was offensive and down right painful.

Then there’s the additional fact that, coincidentally, Jason starts showing back up at the manor. Undoubtedly, helping the others with whatever they’re doing in the library. But, Reader sees him as more often as they pace the empty halls of the manor. And, that hysterical gleam in his eyes reminds them of that night they were rescued.

Tim has been like a ghost since the beginning of Reader’s stay. Every time Reader seems to make progress befriending him, he disappears. Only to reappear and act like nothing happened. Unnaturally, he acts like they’re somehow even closer than before. Each and every time. Like he’s never let Reader alone. Ever. Like he’s always been there watching. And, then he disappears, again and again. Only staying for brief moments.

Barbara is just a thought in Reader’s mind. Reader has seen more of Jim Gordon, her father, than Barbara in the recent weeks.

Mr. Gordon had been wanting to check in on them after the incident and ask them a few questions on what happened that night at the Iceberg Lounge. He was quite gentle in his interrogation, if you could call it that. Barbara had told him Reader wasn’t used to Gotham’s madness and must be treated gently.

Not to say Barbara isn’t checking on Reader. Tim’s not the only on constantly checking the manor cameras as Reader paces.

Dick was like a stray wind. Blowing through the manor, knocking Reader over with the shower of affection then disappearing again. To the library. To Buldhaven. To the ends of the world and back for all they knew. Unfortunately, Reader was growing desperate for any sense of comfort and would cling to him when he came. You have no idea how happy that made him. It was so cute how sad Reader was when he left now. How nice it felt to be needed.

Bruce was different, though. After the incident, he somehow managed to find a way to suffocate Reader with his presence without even being in it for long. Appearing at random to just watch them before disappearing again. Nothing was ever said. He just watched them then vanished.

Reader dreads having to bring up the whole incident with Penguin and Red Hood to Nana. They don’t want to cause anyone back home to worry. Besides, it’ll just remind everyone about that incident a few years back. The one that Reader does everything to forget about. The incident that would probably change a few things for better or for worse. For the family and for Gotham.

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A/N: Yeah, Penguin lives. But, for a reason. Don’t get mad, please. (I did research and found out he was basically Yandere for his mother and killed his father and brothers to have all her attention for himself. And, he has children. 👀)

A/N: Also, reader’s getting some mild tragic backstory. It’s the DC universe. Everything’s gotta have a bit of bitterness. It’s all for the plot.

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Taglist:

@starsdotalk @sleepyghoster @maicenitas @box-of-kinderjoy @yandereheros @skwunkler @cl0esblogg @delias-stuff @rosecentury

[sugugasm]

୨୧ ˗ˏˋ OTAKU HOT GIRL ! | suguru & satoru x yn “i like a tall woman with a nice, big ass.” ꒰ 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 ! ꒱ this is me being delusional srry, but thinkin ab gojo & geto fucking tall, curvy! reader after she begs them to watch her favorite anime with her . . like ugh rn. also forgive me if this is pure degeneracy. i was bein a horn dog n’ there’s no plot rlly :/ inspired by the one n only stallion ofc, we luv u mama

꒰ 𝑛𝑠𝑓𝑤 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡 ꒱ : blk fem reader, uses she/her pronouns, usage of pet names like cocksleeve, love, baby, babe, sweetheart, etc. positions included such as doggystyle, double pen, themes such as choking, bratty reader, dom! satoru & suguru, rough sex ??, oral fem recieve, oral male receive, dirty talk, mentions of a size kink, lots n lots of cum, mmm yum so gross — 5.3𝑲 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕

“hurry up, boys! m’ gonna’ be mad if you miss the intro. it ruins the whole experience of watching for the first time!”

“we’re comin’, woman. calm down.”

both satoru and suguru scurry around in your shared kitchen, gathering the rest of whatever horrid snack combinations they could find before jogging lightly to make their way over to you on the couch. with your feet positioned criss-crossed n’ a warm bowl of popcorn sizzling down in your lap, the only thing really missing were the two imbeciles of men you mistakenly decided to roommate with around a year or two ago.

you roll your eyes fondly as satoru and suguru finally plop down on either side of you, their arms laden with an assortment of junk food. satoru’s got a family-sized bag of cool ranch doritos tucked under one arm and a jar of peanut butter in the other hand, while suguru’s juggling a pack of oreos, a can of whipped cream, and what looks suspiciously like . . ew, a jar of pickles. what?

“are y’all for real right now?” you laugh, eyeing their haul with a mix of amusement and disgust. “ we’re about to watch anime, not enter a county fair eating contest.”

“hey, don't knock it til’ you’ve tried it,” satoru grins, ripping open the doritos and the peanut butter simultaneously. his gaze dips briefly to your chest, taking in the way your soft pink lace cami clings to your curves. “besides, we’ve gotta’ fuel up. you said this show is, and i quote, ‘a cultural reset that will redefine our understanding of feminism and body positivity in media.’ i don’t know man, that sounds intense.”

suguru snorts, unscrewing the oreo package. his eyes briefly lingering on the bare expanse of your thighs, the flimsy matching shorts riding high as you curl your legs underneath you. “pretty sure she just meant it’s got a lot of ass shakin’ and women empowerment. still, sounds pretty lovely.”

you chuck a kernel of popcorn at his head, giggling when it bounces off his nose. “excuse you, that’s a very tiny observation of ‘megan - sama : twerk hero for a new generation.’ s’ a journey of a woman’s adventure to self-love and confidence in a world that constantly tries to tear her down. she uses her sexuality as a form of power. she like, challenges the male gaze and double standards with, well . . every clap of her ass.”

satoru blinks at you, a glob of peanut butter sliding off the dorito he’s holding halfway to his mouth. “that . . was surprisingly deep, yn.”

“mmm, that's our girl,” suguru says proudly, throwing an arm around your shoulders. his fingers skimming over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. “beautiful, brilliant, and able to find meaning in the most unlikely places. like a twerking anime.”

you elbow him playfully in the ribs, warmth blooming in your chest at the casual praise even as heat prickles across your skin at the contact. “you’re jokin’ but m’ serious,” you whine, “it celebrates a body type that’s so often shamed and or fetishized, like i dunno’ . . she faces some of the worst - but she never gives up, and that self-love is what ultimately gives her the strength to change the world around her in the end . .” you keep gushing, waxing poetic about megan’s badassery and the show’s powerful message. the boys listen attentively, nodding along, but you don't miss the way their gazes keep drifting south, tracing your figure with barely-concealed appreciation.

you hated to go on your fourth tangent of the week right now, but god, representation really did matter. it was practically rare to see your body type in entertainment — let alone that exact body type standing at a whopping 5’10. this was . . like you said, a real cultural reset.

a comfortable silence then settles as they finish taking it in, the low murmur of the anime’s opening theme — otaku hot girl, now filling the room. you sneak a glance at satoru out of the corner of your eye, surprised to find him looking thoughtful rather than skeptical like any other guy your age would.

“i can dig it,” satoru says slowly, popping a peanut butter dorito into his mouth. “more representation of different body types in media, s’ important. and i mean, objectively speaking . . .” he rakes his eyes over your form, lingering on the swell of your hips and ass. “i like a tall woman with a nice, big ass. ain't nothin’ wrong with a little extra somethin' to hold onto, y’know?”

you raise a brow, something playfully bold and a little reckless brewing in your chest. “is that so? didn’t know y’liked your girls thick, gojo.”

satoru swallows, adam's apple bobbing as his gaze snaps to yours. “no, yn. i love, my girls thick,” he says, voice pitched low. “well that and, exploring your sexuality n’ confidence in general is jus’ sexy . . as hell.”

“hmmm, i see. getou?” you turn to suguru, head cocked. “any thoughts?”

suguru’s smile is slow and devastating, dark promise in his eyes. “he’s not wrong. m’ sure you know that though. body like . . yours, s’the kinda canvas i could spend hours worshipping. takes an incel to not appreciate it, honestly.”

“oh please. all that bravado, but i can’t you couldn’t handle me even if you tried.” you shimmy your shoulders, drawing attention to the truly tremendous amount of cleavage your cami isn't concealing. “you'd probably bust in your boxers if you so much as touched this ass. thank youuu.”

but even as you say that with all the confidence in the world, you can’t help but to think . . ‘what if?’ what if they could? what if you were talkin’ straight out of your ass right now just to have it be thrown in your face later on? — no, never, couldn’t be.

and later on, as the end credits of the final episode roll, you stretch languidly, you’d forgotten about the thought, feeling pleasantly buzzed from two pretty drinks the three of you had earlier and the easy camaraderie of the night. satoru and suguru have been the perfect viewing companions, cracking jokes and providing commentary that had you in stitches more often than not.

but all in all, underneath the lighthearted banter, you can feel something else tiptoeing - a tension, an electricity that’s been building all night. it’s in the way satoru’s gaze lingers on the curve of your throat as you tip your head back to laugh. it’s in the heat of suguru’s palm on your knee, his thumb rubbing absent circles that inch higher and higher with each passing minute.

“so . .” satoru drawls as the autoplay timer counts down to the next season. “that was . . actually enlightening annnd i just followed megan on instagram. so, when will she be mine?”

“mhmm, told you,” you laugh, feeling loose and languid from the warmth of the alcohol in your veins and the solid press of their bodies on either side of you. “and i dunno, join the club. she’s a fuckin’ queen. knows what she wants and goes for it, she’s inspirational, and an overall bad bitch, duh — i want her too.”

“kinda like someone else we know,” suguru muses, a sly curl to his lips as he turns to face you. his eyes are dark, heated in a way that makes your breath catch. “ain’t that right, yn?”

you swallow, pulse picking up speed as you meet his loaded gaze. “oh? and who might that be?”

“you,” satoru says bluntly, shifting to angle his body towards you as well. the movement brings him close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off of him, the firm press of his muscular thigh against yours. “talkin’ all that shit earlier, bout’ how we couldn’t handle you. you think that, babe?”

oh . . so maybe you were wrong.

and they had planned on it proving that to you.

there’s a challenge in his tone, a dare that sends a frisson of anticipation skittering down your spine. you lick your lips, noting with a thrill how both their gazes zero in on the movement, “maybe i did,” you say, pitching your voice low and breathy. “what’re you gonna’ do about it?”

suguru makes a rough sound in the back of his throat, fingers flexing on your knee. “oh, well since you asked . . we can give a little demo - show you exactly what we’re gonna’ do about it. ain’t that right, satoru?”

“damn straight,” satoru growls, a wicked gleam in his eye. “whaddaya’ say, sweet thing? why don’t you go ahead n’ show us what makes you a hot girl, yn?” he finishes.

heart pounding, skin prickling with goosebumps, you lift your chin in clear provocation. “tch, whatever. bring it on then, bitches. show me what you’ve got.”

of course you’d challenge them. why wouldn’t you? you quite literally had the power of god and megan on your side.

twin groans meet your bold words, suguru’s hand tightening convulsively on your leg as satoru’s eyes blaze with intent. “don’t mind if we do,” satoru rasps, voice gone low and gravelly with want. “been fuckin’ gagging for it all night, watchin’ you all curled up and cozy in this tiny ass pajama set, lookin’ good enough to eat . .”

“gonna’ fuckin’ devour you,” suguru vows, already shifting to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat. “gonna’ put this bratty little mouth to good use, fuck, been dyin’ to feel these pretty lips wrapped around my dick.”

you moan, head tipping back to grant him better access even as your hands come up to fist in satoru’s hair, dragging him down for a filthy, biting kiss. he groans into your mouth, licking past the seam of your lips to tangle his tongue with yours, one large hand palming roughly at your breast through the flimsy lace of your cami.

“fuckin’ tease,” he pants when you break apart for air, fingers already working at the tiny buttons holding the top closed. “prancin’ around in this scrap of nothin’ all night, like a slut. y’knew we wouldn’t be able to stop thinkin’ about you, baby.”

“why don’t you tell me?” you breathe, emboldened by the blatant need in their faces, the desperate flex of their hands on your body. “c’mon, boys, use your words. what’ve you been thinkin’ about doin’ to me all night, huh? how’re you gonna’ shut me up, put me in my place?”

“jesus fuckin’ christ,” suguru swears feelingly, wrenching himself away from your neck to stare at you with wild, hungry eyes. “keep talkin’ like that and i’m gonna lose it, i swear.”

“then lose it,” you purr, hooking a leg over his hip and using the leverage to grind yourself against his straining erection. he hisses, hips rocking forward to press the thick line of his cock harder against your aching center. “c’mon, sugu baby, show me how bad you want it. show me exactly what this bratty little tease does to you.”

“fuck, you fuckin’ - get her naked,” suguru snarls to satoru, already fumbling with the tie of your shorts. “fuckin’ get her naked right goddamn now, i can’t - i gotta’ taste her, gotta’ get my mouth on this sweet cunt before i fucking explode . .”

satoru doesn't waste any time, practically ripping your cami open in his haste to get at your bared tits. you cry out sharply as he latches onto one straining nipple, suckling hard and grazing the sensitized bud with his teeth. “oh fuck, oh god, yes!”

your shorts and panties are yanked down your legs, the sudden rush of cool air on your heated flesh making you gasp. and then suguru is shouldering past satoru to find his way between your thighs, pushing them open wide and burying his face in your dripping cunt with a guttural moan of satisfaction, “i call first,” he mumbles into your pussy.

satoru scoffs an agitated, “not fair, but whatever,” and you can’t help but to giggle at the sheer fact that they were quite literally bickering over who was gonna’ eat your pussy first.

“shut the fuck up — ”

“aht, aht! hey, all my munches get along so . . y’all about to argue all day or what?” you mutter, and as if they were being scolded back in their early sourcerer days - they hush, and then, “holy shit!” you whimper, back arching clear off the couch as suguru goes to town, licking and suckling at your clit like a man starved. “o-oh my god, sugu, you’re s’good . .”

“mm, y’like that, sweetheart?” satoru husks, sucking and then pulling off your nipple with a lewd pop. his hand palms roughly at your other breast, plucking at the stiff peak, drawing high, breathy cries from your throat. “like the way he eats this pretty pussy, fucks you with his tongue? gonna’ make you cum so hard you scream, baby, gonna’ make you fucking flood his mouth.”

“y-yes,” you gasp, fisting your hands in both their hair as suguru goes even harder, slipping two fingers into your clenching hole and pumping them in time with the relentless suction of his lips around your throbbing clit. “yes, fuck, m’gonna cum already, gonna’ come on your face sugu, please, fuck, m’ so close . .”

“that's it,” satoru coaxes, pinching your nipple viciously, making you yelp. “give it up, yn, fucking come for us like a good girl, wanna hear you scream . .”

suguru crooks his fingers just right, rubbing mercilessly against the spot that makes stars explode behind your eyelids, and you shatter with a raw sob of their names. your cunt clamps down vise-tight on his thrusting digits as you gush around them, release flooding his chin and dripping down his wrist.

he works you through the aftershocks with hitching praises and soft kitten licks, only pulling away when you start twitching from oversensitivity. he rocks back onto his heels, wiping and licking around his mouth with the back of his hand and tongue, eyes hazy and satisfied as he takes in your wrecked, limp form. “fuckin’ gorgeous,” he slurs, words edged with wonder. “shit - look at you, jesus, all fucked out and dripping just from my mouth. i told you i could spend hours between these thighs, baby, i wasnt lyin’.”

“h-hours, huh?” you manage, breath still coming in shuddery gasps. “that mean you’re done with me already, sugu?”

his eyes sharpen, a predatory curl to his lips that sends a bolt of heat straight to your core. “not even close, pretty girl. m’ jus’ gettin’ warmed up.”

“why don’t you let her catch her breath,” satoru suggests, something dark and intent in his gaze as his eyes rove over your naked, trembling body. he palms his cock through his sweats, hissing at the contact. “still gotta put that mouth to work, remember?”

your cunt clenches weakly at the implication, arousal already starting to rekindle in your veins. “gimmie’ a minute to recover and i’ll put it to work all night long,” you promise, licking your lips. “wanna’ choke on it, toru. want you to fuck my throat . . please.”

“jesus, fuck, you’re so nasty,” satoru groans, fisting a hand in your hair and dragging you up for a brief, brutal kiss. “gonna’ wreck you, baby. gonna’ fuckin’ ruin you for anyone else, mark you up inside n’ out until all you can think about is us, all you can feel is us stretching that hungry little pussy wide . .”

“oh please,” you whimper, already halfway there just from their words, their roving hands, the hot press of their bodies caging you in on either side. “god, please, i want it — fuck me stupid, i don’t care.”

“and we will,” suguru vows, fingers dipping back between your legs to circle your slick, twitching entrance. “gonna’ pump you so full of cum, baby, shit, gonna fuckin’ breed this cunt.” you keen high in your throat, the images they’re painting sending heat licking through your veins like wildfire. you want it, want them, with an intensity that’s scarce.

“so what’re you waiting for?” you rasp, disentangling yourself from their groping hands to shimmy off the couch and drop to your knees between their splayed thighs. you rest your palms high on their legs, thumbs teasing at the straining bulges tenting their sweats. “i believe i was promised a face fucking . . and y’know i hate broken promises. don’t make me beg.”

“brat,” satoru husks, eyes practically black with lust as he lifts his hips so you can tug his pants down his thighs. his cock springs free, thick and ruddy and leaking at the tip, and your mouth waters at the sight. “let’s see how cocky you are with your mouth full. won’t be able to sass when you’re chokin’ on dick.”

“choking? you promise, daddy?” you purr, shuffling closer on your knees, hands running teasingly up and down their thighs. suguru makes a strangled noise, hands clenching into fists at his sides like it’s taking everything in him not to grab you.

“open,” satoru demands hoarsely. “open that smart fucking mouth. lemme’ feed you.” you part your lips obediently, tongue darting out to swipe at the swollen head of his dick. he jerks like he’s been electrocuted, a guttural moan punching out of his chest as you proceed to lave at his cock like an ice cream cone, all kittenish licks and teasing flicks that have him cursing up a storm above you.

“gonna’ kill me,” he grits out, hips flexing like it's taking everything he has to keep from fucking up into your mouth. “yn, jesus, quit teasing and suck it, shit — suck it baby, please . .” deciding to put him out of his misery, you open wide and sink down, relaxing your throat to take him as deep as you can. he shouts, hands flying to your hair as you set up a steady rhythm, bobbing and sucking and swirling your tongue until he’s leaking a steady stream of precum down your throat.

suguru is panting harshly on your other side, fisting his own cock with short, rough strokes as he watches you work over satoru. “look so fuckin’ pretty with a dick in your mouth,” he praises raspily, thumb collecting the bead of moisture at his tip and reaching down to smear it across your lips where they're stretched wide around satoru. “made to be a fuckin’ eater, weren’t you sweetheart? made for us, made to take what you’re given, aren’t you?”

you whimper around your mouthful, the degradation making your cunt clench up hard. you redouble your efforts, relaxing your throat and sinking down until satoru’s cock is nudging the back of your throat, your nose pressed against his pelvis.

“holy fucking shit,” he wheezes, fingers tightening in your hair to hold you there. “oh my god, oh fuck, your fucking throat, m'gonna come, gonna come right down your slutty little neck . .”

“do it,” suguru growls, hand still fisting his own cock, the wet slap of skin on skin obscenely loud in the otherwise quiet room. “feed her that load, man, fucking paint her throat, make her gag.”

satoru cums with a hoarse shout, cock pulsing on your tongue as he empties himself down your throat. you swallow it all, working your tongue along the throbbing underside to draw out every last drop until he's shaking and pushing you off with an overwhelmed grunt. and you pull off with a gasp, lips swollen and spit-slick, chin wet with drool and the remnants of his release. before you can even catch your breath, suguru is grabbing you by the hair and dragging you over to his waiting cock, the head an angry purple and weeping steadily.

“looks like s’ my turn now, hm?” he grits out, tracing the seam of your lips with his cock, smearing the slickness around like obscene lipgloss. “back open, c’mon.”

you let your jaw drop wide once again, and then he’s pushing in, stretching your lips wide around his girth as he feeds you every thick, throbbing inch. he sets a punishing pace from the start, one hand cupped under your chin to feel his cock moving in your throat as the other winds tight in your hair, holding you still for his thrusts.

“oh fuck yeah,” he rasps, eyes fever-bright as he stares down at you, taking in your glazed eyes and drool-slick chin, the vulgar bulge of your throat. “takin’ it like a champ aren’t ya’? so pretty like this, baby. y’like it, like daddy’s cock buried in your throat like this?” you moan around him, looking up at him through your lashes as you hollow your cheeks and suck viciously — vacuum technique doing absolute wonders by the looks of it. he curses, rhythm faltering as his cock throbs warningly against your tongue.

satoru is suddenly there, pressing up against your back, arms banding around your waist as clever fingers find your aching nipples and pluck at them roughly. “your face is so pretty,” he husks in your ear, stubble rasping against your neck as he mouths at your throat. “it’ll look even prettier painted . . c’mon make him cum, you’ve earned it.”

the filthy words combined with the sharp mix of pleasure pain of his fingers on your nipples has you shuddering, cunt clenching down on nothing as a bolt of heat sizzles up your spine. suguru’s is close, you can tell by the way his thrusts are going erratic, his cock pulsing faster against your tongue.

“f-fuck, oh fuck, m’gonna cum,” he warns, high and tight, hips snapping forward once, twice more before he's pulling out abruptly, fisting his cock with desperate strokes. “open your mouth, fuck, stick out your tongue baby, wanna’ see it, fuckin’ shit!”

you obey mindlessly, tipping your face up and extending your tongue, a lewd, pornographic presentation. suguru loses it at the sight, shouting brokenly as his orgasm crashes over him, cock jerking in his grip as he paints your face with ropey streams of pearlescent white.

you moan shakily, back arching as some of his release hits your waiting tongue, the salty-musk taste of him flooding your senses. you feel debauched, utterly wrecked and still desperately turned on, your cunt a throbbing mess of need between your legs.

“holy shit!” suguru pants, slumping back against the couch, chest heaving. he takes in your cum - streaked face, the way you’re panting and squirming, still perched on your knees between them. “you’re a fuckin' vision, you know that? prettiest thing i’ve ever seen, all messy and marked up, fuck.”

“mmm, but she’s not finished though, are you baby?” satoru purrs, fingers drifting down to tease through your soaked folds, making you gasp and buck your hips. “look, she’s still hungry for it, so ready for more like the insatiable little slut you are. tell us what you need, sweetheart. tell us how you want us to wreck this pussy.”

“both of you,” you manage, voice a needy rasp. you reach down to circle your swollen clit, putting on a show for them. “want both you in me, filling me up t-til’ i can’t fuckin’ take it.”

“fuck,” satoru swears emphatically, cock already twitching with renewed interest. “yeah baby, we can do that, no problem. so sorry if we make you cry.”

“we gotta’ get her on the bed,” susguru demands, pulling you up and herding you towards satoru’s room. “need you spread out for us, wanna’ wreck you properly.”

you go willingly, eagerly, practically trembling with anticipation as they usher you into the bedroom, tearing their clothes off as they go. they descend upon you like men starved as soon as your back hits the mattress, hands and mouths roving over every inch of bared skin until you're writhing and keening beneath their attentions.

suguru pushes your thighs open and buries his face between them, groaning at the taste of your arousal. he licks into you like a man dying of thirst, tongue delving deep and curling just right to make you see stars. “fuckin’ drenched,” he mutters, pulling back just enough to circle your entrance with one long finger, gathering the slickness. “absolutely soaked for it, aren't you baby? dripping for our cocks, greedy little pussy desperate to be stuffed full.”

“please,” you whimper, back arching as he pushes two fingers knuckle-deep, pumping them lazily. “oh fuck, g-getou, more, need more!”

“ive got you,” satoru rasps, rolling on a condom and slicking himself up with lube. he shifts up the bed until he’s bracketing your head with his knees, the thick jut of his cock bobbing mere inches from your face. “gonna’ give this filthy mouth something to do while sugu opens up your hungry cunt, yeah? gonna’ fuck your throat while he fingers you sloppy, get you nice and ready for us both.”

you open eagerly for him, relaxing your jaw as he feeds his cock past your lips. he groans at the wet heat of your mouth, at the way you hollow your cheeks and suck, working your tongue along the throbbing underside.

“there you go,” he praises roughly, grabbing a handful of your hair and giving a shallow thrust. “just like that baby, fuck, feel like heaven around my dick . .”

you moan around him as suguru works a third finger into your dripping cunt, scissoring and curling them just right to graze that spot inside you that makes your toes curl. the dual stimulation has you shaking, the obscene sounds of satoru’s cock gliding through the slick clutch of your throat and suguru’s fingers pumping wetly into your pussy filling the room.

“she’s good to go,” suguru declares after a few endless minutes, pulling his fingers free and wiping them clean on the sheets. he slicks himself up, shifting into position between your spread thighs. “gonna’ wreck this pussy, baby, you have no idea how bad i’ve wanted this, wanted you. i think about you while i dream . .”

how could something said be so blended with both degeneracy and sweetness.

he pushes in on one smooth glide, the breath punching from his lungs in a guttural moan as your walls clench down greedily around him. “mm, what a tight fit. shit. gripping me, yn, goddamn.”

you sob brokenly around satoru’s cock as suguru bottoms out, hips flush against yours. he gives you a moment to adjust before he starts moving, rolling his hips in deep, devastating grinds that have you seeing stars.

satoru keeps rocking into your mouth, hands fisted in your hair to hold you in place for his thrusts. you take it eagerly, gagging a little when he hits the back of your throat but relaxing to let him push deeper, until your nose is pressed against his pelvis with every pump of his hips.

“m’ gonna’ cum down your throat again,” satoru grits out after a few minutes of spit-roasting you between them. “gonna’ get you all warmed up, honey.”

you moan helplessly, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you struggle to breathe around his considerable girth. just as spots start to dance in your vision, satoru stiffens and curses, hips jerking erratically as he spills into your mouth with a hoarse shout. “there you go baby, breathe for me — agh fuck yes. choke on daddy’s dick, thas’ good girl.” he then pulls out carefully, cradling your jaw as you cough and gasp, chest heaving.

suguru is still working into you from below, the drag of his cock against your fluttering walls almost unbearably good. you’re so fucking full of him, stretched around his thickness, but you still feel so empty, aching for more.

“please,” you rasp, looking up at satoru with wet, pleading eyes. “need your cock inside me too, need both of you fucking me, filling me, please.”

“such a needy little thing,” satoru marvels, eyes dark and hungry on your face. “gonna’ give it to you, baby, don’t worry. want me to stuff that pussy, hm? confuse you on whose is whose,” he laughs.

he slides down your body, shifting to kneel behind suguru between your lewdly spread legs. slicking up his fingers with more lube, he circles your stretched rim where suguru is steadily pumping into you, dipping just the tip of one finger in alongside his thrusting cock.

you keen high in your throat at the added stretch, the slight burn as he works you open further. suguru groans at the increased tightness, at the filthy drag of satoru’s fingers around his pistoning cock as he meticulously stretches you out. “god, look at you,” suguru pants, sounding absolutely wrecked as he stares down at where you're taking them both, hole straining wide and shiny-slick with lube and your own arousal. “pretty, little cunt all desperate for it, practically begging to be stuffed full. you want that, baby? want both of us crammed up in that pussy, wanna’ be our fuckin’ cocksleeve?”

“yes,” you sob, past the point of shame or restraint. “please, fuck, want it, want you both so deep in me, wan’ it to almost hurt . .”

“holy shit,” satoru swears feelingly, pulling his fingers free and lining his cock up alongside suguru’s. the blunt pressure against your already stuffed hole has you nearly hyperventilating, squirming down onto them eagerly. “okay, baby, deep breaths. gonna’ put both of us in, yeah?” you nod, and he pushes in hard, forcing his cockhead in alongside suguru’s with a devastating stretch. you wail brokenly, back bowing as you’re split open on their straining cocks, the burn of it so intense it borders on both pleasure and pain. but then suguru is rolling his hips and satoru is grinding into you and oh, oh it’s fucking perfect, the drag of them against your walls, the way they throb and pulse in tandem inside you.

“fuck,” suguru wheezes, sweat rolling down his temples. “o-oh fuck, fuck, fuck!.”

“m’ not gonna last,” satoru warns, voice absolutely shattered as he starts to move, drawing out only to slam back in, forcibly creating space for himself in your overstuffed channel. “yn, o-ooh, pussy’s stranglin’ me, baby — m’gonna cum.”

“do it,” you demand breathlessly, rolling your hips up to meet their thrusts, taking them impossibly deeper. “cum in me . . claim m-me.” with twin shouts they comply, snapping their hips forward one, two, three more times before they’re cumming hard, cocks pulsing in tandem as they empty themselves into you. you moan brokenly at the feel of it, of their release flooding your cunt, marking you up from the inside out.

they collapse against you as they come down, chests heaving and skin slick with sweat. you whimper as their softening cocks slip free of your abused hole, a river of come slipping out after them to soak the sheets.

“holy f-fuck,” satoru rasps after a long moment, pressing a reverent kiss to your shoulder. “that was fucking crazy . .”

“and incredible,” suguru adds, sounding just as dazed. “yn, baby, fuck. we wrecked you, jesus.”

“mmm, you did,” you agree, feeling utterly boneless and fucked-out in the best way. “absolutely ruined me for anyone else, jus’ like you promised.”

“good,” satoru growls, something fiercely possessive in his gaze as it rakes over your limp, satisfied form. “because this pussy? this filthy, perfect pussy? it belongs to us now. you belong to us now . . .”

you glance briefly at the tv, dick drunk and pleasure high. part of you thinks you should probably pay your respects to the anime that facilitated this unexpected but very welcome turn of events, but the rest of you is preoccupied with trying not to black out as satoru and suguru keep their attention on you.

megan-sama, you think muzzily, just before suguru starts to nip at your shoulder again, bless your ratchet heart. you the real mvp.

and then coherency flees completely as your boys descend on you once more, cutting off anything resembling higher thought.

the last fleeting thing you remember is a deep, unshakable gratitude for your beautifully crafted body and the incredible dudes about to spend the foreseeable future worshipping it.

thick thighs save lives, indeed.

there’s only one you.

we love you meg.

[bbyobbyo]

seventeen as dads headcanons

content: reader is married to svt, normative(?) family structure, literally just unhinged thoughts, not proofread lol

note: was trying to write an actual fic but then got distracted sorry, dadventeen brainrot is so real

Seungcheol

Super protective “don’t touch my family” dad outwardly

All of his kids’ friends are straight up SCARED of him

But within the household he's the one sneaking ice cream when you say no, albeit guiltily

Shopping trips with him will always result in buying something for them and he is very willing to be taken advantage of

“Babe if I can’t spoil them now, they’re gonna grow up and move out before we know it!”

Tries his best to be handy around the house, but probably makes it worse, ends up calling Mingyu to come fix it

Jeonghan

DEFINITELY a “go ask your mom” dad

This man not only powerless, he doesn't even want the power, he's just here to have a good time and if you say they can't, then sorry kiddo

You can’t tell me that he doesn’t bring up becoming a family prank channel at least once a week

LOVES bragging to everyone else about his kid’s achievements, cannot shut up about them to anyone in a 5 foot radius tbh

His kids definitely talk to him about everything, which is great because he is SO nosy.

Has a list of all their best friends, enemies, and crushes at school somewhere on his notes app for future reference when they come to him for advice

Joshua

The REAL practical joke dad, admittedly made them cry a few times when they were younger and felt really bad about it

Perfect sweet husband and father in image, all of his kids know he’s actually lame af

Dominates the summer barbeques, UNDISPUTED GRILLMASTER

Super dependable, will drop everything if his family needs him and never goes back on his word

Gives surprisingly good fashion advice

Jun

Definitely walks around the neighborhood with his baby in a sling carrier strapped to his front, POINTS AT EVERYTHING OF INTEREST

When they start learning how to speak he adopts all his baby’s weird mannerisms (it started off as a cute joke but then realized he couldn’t stop)

Cries at every baby milestone until they’re like 10

Will not stop bringing up embarrassing childhood moments, especially in front of their kids’ friends/significant others

Cuts fruit for them instead of apologizing

Hoshi

Will fully ally himself with his kids

Like legit would do anything for them. ANYTHING.

I’m talking borderline go to his kid's school to beat up their hypothetical bullies himself sort of dad

The kids can always count on him to say yes if you say no

Absolutely DEVASTATED when they grow out of the tiger stuff he buys for them and become angsty teens

“What do you mean tigers aren’t cool? Do you not love your old man anymore?”

Wonwoo

Quiet doting dad

Definitely more affectionate when the kids are younger but gets into the awkward advice-giving stage when they grow up

LAME DAD JOKES GALORE, groaning is a regular activity in this household

Tries to google basic algebra every time his kids ask for help on math homework because he doesn’t want to admit he forgot everything

Chaotic af unsupervised. “Guess we’re having pizza again tonight kiddos” kinda dad because he cannot and should not cook

Jihoon

Another quiet dad, but make it savage

I feel like he would just love roasting his kids (affectionately of course)

And always overwhelmingly acts of service so his kids know they are loved

Allowance randomly appearing under their pillow, their favorite foods magically stocked in the fridge, always relenting to one last bedtime story no matter how tired he is

Would let you have final say but he makes it really clear he’s on their side and empathizes with them but its out of his hands

“Next time just don’t get caught, okay?” *winks*

Minghao

Loves loves loves just spending time with his babies

Doesn’t matter what he’s doing he just wants to be in the same room as them or cuddling and holding them

Emphasizes equality in your relationship so his kids can grow up with those values and learn to respect others

TURNS EVERYTHING INTO A LIFE LESSON OH MY GOD

Doesn’t believe in allowances but will cave and literally buy them anything they want if they ask

Would rather die than miss any important event (competition, speech, recital, talent show, graduation, etc.)

Mingyu

Absolute super dad, what can’t he do? Nonstop home improvement projects, cooks anything his kids are craving, offers to drive everyone everywhere

But also the whiniest dad ever lol constantly complains about people “ruining his system”

Absolutely FUCKS at the school bake sales, earns them twice the target fundraiser amounts because he's dilf material and knows how to get the moms to spill their pockets

Likes to have the final say, but you’re both usually on the same page in regards to discipline so his kids aren’t getting away with anything

Just the most supportive dad in the universe, the kids learn to never take him for granted

Seokmin

You already know his kids are gonna be spoiled rotten. He will be the favorite parent by default sorry I don't make the rules!!

His arms are the very definition of a safe space

Leaves all the discipline to you because he cannot keep a straight face when delivering a lecture (one time he made them cry and also ended up crying because he felt so bad)

Does so much embarrassing shit just to cheer his kids up when they have a bad day, acts surprised when they tell him he's cringe

Such a pushover that they are probably gonna make fun of him when they're older, but that's okay because they know there's no universe in which their dad will stop loving them

Seungkwan

As long as he can pick them up still, his kids are never on the ground for too long

Two words: SPORTS. DAD.

He could practically captain the cheerleading teams at their school with how many events he's been to

Knows all of his kids’ friends parents, they all get together and have coffee once a month actually

Nags nonstop and complains about everything he has to do for them, but is always diligent and does it without question

Gets so pouty when they start getting embarrassed to show affection, he WILL get his cheek kisses if it's the last thing he does!!

Vernon

Chillest dad in existence?!?

Literally as long as his kids are safe he doesn't give a single fuuuuckkk

“Sleepover? Yeah, call me when you're done and I'll pick you up.”

He WILL argue with you if he doesn't think there's a good reason to say no to them

So cute and encouraging to all their weird hobbies and phases throughout the years. “Lemme see” and “Really? Show me” are regular phrases in his vocabulary

His kids are definitely gonna inherit his legendary facial expressions afnngjdg

Chan

Super affectionate and doting, but also quite strict with them at times

“I just want the best for you, I want to see you succeed”

HAS A PHOTO OF THEM READY AT ANY TIME, lockscreen is a different shot of his kids every day and is eager to show it off even if no one asked

Not so subtly signs his kid up for dance lessons

Just the most encouraging dad ever, makes sure that they know making mistakes are a part of life and that he will always love them no matter what

[monzamash]

★ bargain bin — lando norris

how the other half lives lando norris x older!reader rating — 18+ (sex, coarse language, age gap) —requested by lovely anon, thank you for the wonderful idea.

"merry christmas… hello!" lando sang as he guided you through the wide open front door of his parents' home. 

the holiday festivities had already begun by the echo of christmas tunes filtering through the open plan along with the rich smell of a delicious home-cooked lunch inviting you in. 

“we’re in here, love!” his mum sang back from down the hallway, every step getting you closer to all the cheerful voices melding into a sound of pure joy. 

that sound truly summed up lando’s family. they were joy personified. you had met them a couple of times in passing, mostly at races or whenever lando had a formal event to attend. they were always by his side, supporting and cheering him on and you adored how much they loved their son. 

you hadn’t been to their home, lando's childhood home. of course you wondered what it would look like, curious to know how the man you had fallen in love with grew up. the two of you were from vastly different backgrounds but all was fair in love and war, no preconceived notions or judgements — only mutual respect and a connection that couldn't be ignored. but you were curious to know how the other half lived, failing to suppress a giggle when you bypassed the study. 

"golden boy," you whispered, pointing to the small shrine dedicated to lando and his career that was set up in what looked to be his father’s office, earning yourself a gentle shove.

"oh god… that's embarrassing," he muttered quietly with a smirk as you took a couple of strides in, running your fingers over the karting trophies all lined up in a perfect row.

“it’s cute. they’re so proud of you.”

all lando could do was smile and hide his blush. he was the twinkle in their eye and all you wanted was for them to like you. 

your relationship with lando was somewhat untraditional, being five years his senior. age is nothing but a number, he had said when you first met through mutual friends on a holiday in mallorca, the connection between the two of you growing instantaneously. he was the charming brit that your friends had warned you about, single and destined to fall head over heels for you — and he did. lando couldn’t believe his luck when you waltzed into the villa, a sight for sore eyes and a smile that made his heart clench with something resembling love. 

the age difference wasn’t a problem at first, most of his friends were older so it made sense that he would blend into the group without a second glance. it wasn’t until the perfect spanish bubble burst and you found yourself cuddled up in his arms, reuniting after a couple of weeks apart and feeling the weight of it all on your shoulders. his life was chaotic, an excuse to be perpetually young — adrenaline filled and without real life responsibilities. 

“i just don’t want you to get sick of me because i have a 9-5 job and a mortgage. it’s boring adult stuff that gets me down and you're doing what every kid dreams of. we’re from very different worlds — god, what would your parents think of you dating a 30 year old…” you’d barely taken a breath when lando rested his hand on your cheek with a sigh. 

“there’s a reason why our worlds collided and i wanna know where it takes us. i'm falling in love with you and i think you are too so let’s see what happens, yeah? plus, you’re like a dream girl to take him to the parents — they’re gonna love you.”

and from day forth, you put those fears behind you and focused on the beautiful moments happening right before your eyes. spending the holidays with lando and his family was a dream, all of the sleepless nights worrying about what they thought was wasted when all you needed to do was trust the man you loved.

“ah, my two favourite people,” lando’s father greeted as he bundled lando up in a hug and pulled you in next with a grin the size of the moon, “so uncle rodney is making cocktails and you can pop any presents under the tree in the living room — lando can show you.”

“thanks so much again for inviting me, adam,” you whispered, earning a reassuring squeeze to the shoulder, “of course, love — we’re glad you were able to join us.” 

lando clasped your hand and showed you the way. the house seemed to go on forever until finally spotting the biggest christmas tree you had ever seen, “wow.” 

“we go big in the norris household — not just with the tree,” he motioned towards the tower of presents, mostly labelled with his sweet niece's names.

"it’s so beautiful," you admired before kneeling down and carefully placing the presents you two bought under the tree, spending a little extra time inspecting the one that had a little card hanging off the side with your name scribbled in lando’s distinctive handwriting.

"oi, behave yourself," lando scolded playfully, catching you red-handed shaking the small box with a guilty smirk.

"what are you gonna do? tell on me?" you teased, peering up at him with puppy dog eyes and playfully poking at his hip. lando gently captured your wrist and helped you up from the floor before dragging you in close for a hug, "maybe you won't get your present from me now. how would you like that?" 

your face fell into a pout as he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips, "okay fine," you surrendered, rolling your eyes at lando’s triumphant grin. 

"hmm, that's what i thought, darling."

—

the norris clan were an absolute riot and lando was spot on with his prediction about everyone being too drunk to take any notice of the two of you. once everyone got their chance to chat to lando about racing and what was in store for the off-season, they went back to telling hysterical family stories and reminiscing about the old days. 

every time someone new told a story, you were blessed with a glimpse into the person lando was before you met him — all the little stories from his childhood and teen years really enriched the emotional side of your relationship and for the first time, it felt like both the physical and emotional sides had caught up with one another. you’d never felt emotionally closer and it solidified all of the feelings and conversations the two of you had been having lately. what did the future hold? where did you see yourselves in five years? so many of those questions fumbling around in your head were answered just by sitting and listening to his family. 

all you wanted was to feel like you and lando could happily spend the rest of your lives together and for the people closest to him to approve of that decision. the car ride home was quiet — lando humming the christmas song stuck in his head while you watched the twinkling city lights of london off in the distance.

"my parents really love you.”

you smiled to yourself while hanging your coat over the back of a kitchen stool, heart pumping a little fast than it was before.

“you think?”

lando nodded, smiling as he leaned against the counter in your shared apartment and admired the way your nose scrunched up, unsure of his genuinity. you were glowing under the warm christmas tree lights stretching up the walls, eyes sparkling with a glimmer of hope that his words were true. 

“i know they do. so do my sisters. and my brother… everyone loves you,” lando stepped forward and pressed your hips against the kitchen counter, sliding you easily up onto the surface. “—but i love you the most.” 

“love you the most too, baby.” you whispered before wrapping your legs and arms loosely around his body, pulling him in for a long awaited kiss. 

the two of you had been on your best behaviour all day, but seeing lando playing chasey with his nieces and making them laugh until their little faces were red made it really hard not to drag him to a quiet corner and beg for him to give you one of your own. he knew what you wanted, what you needed, making quick work of your underwear and skirting the thin material down your legs while you tugged on the buckle of his black belt. 

“so ready for me,” lando teased as his fingertips glided between your shaky thighs, embarrassingly easy if it weren’t for the fact he always had you like that. he fucking lived for having you dripping for him.

“mmm, need you to be ready for me too,” you played with a couple of quick strokes of his cock, earning a loud, raspy moan in your ear. it sent chills down your spine as he grasped your hand and took over, haphazardly lining himself up and nudging forward with a grunt.

“yes,” you whimpered, tightening your grip around lando’s shoulders as he lifted you slightly, guiding your hips in time with his, desperately chasing his high. 

“feels so fucking good,” he groaned into your mouth, as your head tilted back in pleasure. 

“lando?” you half moaned, half asked as his eyes squared with yours. “yeah?” 

“when do you think we should tell your parents that we’re trying to have a baby?” 

lando’s eyebrows furrowed as he continued to slide into you with a pace quicker than any fast lap he’d ever clocked, “fuck, baby,” he groaned, trying to hold his composure, “um, that’d be a long conversation about responsibility and marriage probably — they would want to meet your parents…” 

“are they super religious?” you were panting, lips only centimetres from his. 

“we have to stop talking about my parents while we’re… while this is happening,” lando groaned, face screwed up as he picked up the pace again —hips snapping deliciously in sync. 

“god, yeah, sorry, sorry!” you muttered, stifling a laugh as his hot breath washed over you in a chuckle. 

“lemme try and give you one before we start telling people, yeah?” he breathlessly whispered into your ear, pressing kisses along your collarbone with a smile, “you’re so bad…” 

you sighed, “i’m definitely on the naughty list this year.” 

“absolutely,” lando chuckled and gave you a soft kiss before getting to work on your ultimate christmas gift.

a/n — soooo keen to keep adding to this little story. let me know what you think!! and thank you all so much for getting involved in the end of (f1) season sale. it has been so fun writing for you guys this past month and hopefully i will be able to finish it off over the next couple of weeks but this fic felt like the best way to say goodbye to the formula one season ✨

[earthchica]

the sweetest taboo

cowboy! terry richmond x black, fem! reader

summary: you and Terry don't get along, but you have to run a whole farm together. Terry is tired of your behavior and shows you who's boss.

warnings: explicit smut (18+), slight brat, teasing banter, arguing, foul language, choking, size kink, daddy kink, rough spanking, hair pulling, unprotected rough sex, squirting, creampie, aftercare, nicknames (baby, baby girl, lil mama, sweetheart) words (5k)

note: this has been in drafts for a while, and I decided to post it, I hope you enjoyed it. let me know what you think?

-

For five months, you have been managing the 9 acres of farmland in Louisiana that your nana left you. Your dedication to preserving the family business meant collaborating with the Richmond family, who share ownership of half the land.

Troy and Yvette Richmond were close friends of your nana and had worked alongside her for ten years. You had no issues with Mr. and Mrs. Richmond; they were kind and welcoming people. However, their son, Terry Richmond, was another story.

Terry had a skill for getting under your skin and was quite infuriating. You settled down on the weathered porch, the sun starting to dip low in the Louisiana sky, casting a warm glow over everything.

A gentle breeze stirred the grass, and the homemade lemonade's sweet, tangy taste was an incredible relief after a long day of working the land.

You leaned back in your chair, stealing a moment of quiet with your friend, Jenna, who was sipping her own glass and watching the fields.

“Jen, I swear, I just can’t stand Terry,” you started, rolling your eyes as you took a long sip of lemonade. “It’s like he thinks he runs the whole damn farm.”

Jenna chuckled, leaning in with a teasing grin. “You mean you don’t like how he makes you feel? ‘Cause let’s be real, he’s fine as hell.”

“Fine?” You scoffed, waving your hand dismissively, though you couldn’t ignore the slight flutter in your stomach. “That man might be easy on the eyes, but that doesn't mean I gotta put up with his nonsense.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Jenna smirked, taking another sip. “We both know you kinda like it when he gets under that skin of yours. Just admit it, you like him!”

Before you could respond, you spotted Terry riding up on his horse, the sun glinting off his cowboy hat. He was wearing a tank top that highlighted his big, muscular arms, wear-out jeans, and boots.

Terry swung off the saddle, hooked his horse, and marched up the stairs with a self-assured grin. “Hey there, you two. Y’all need to get back to work,” he called out.

His tone is too bossy for your liking. “Oh, look who it is,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. Jenna quickly drained her glass and shot you a look as if to say, “Good luck with that.”

“Where you think you goin’, Jenna?” you called out, but she was already making her way inside, leaving you to face Terry alone. You shook your head, standing up to meet his gaze.

“Excuse you, Terry? I don’t need any directions from you.” You said with a slight smile, and Terry crossed his arms, leaning back slightly as if he had found your annoyance amusing.

“Somebody’s gotta keep things in line, and it sure ain’t gonna be you. You think this farm runs itself?.” Terry asked with a chuckle. You stepped closer, refusing to back down.

“You think you cause just own half the land? Can you tell me what to do? Newsflash, Terry, we’re equal partners here. Don’t you forget that?”

He smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Equal, huh? Are you sure about that? ‘Cause every time I turn around, it seems like you’re floundering—”

“Oh, Terry, don’t you dare! Do you think you’re the only one who knows hard work? I put in just as many hours as you do.” You said, poking his chest as the tension hung heavy between you two,

Neither of you was willing to let it go. Beneath the surface, something else simmered. The way he stood tall and unyielding created a heat that wasn’t just from frustration.

“You right, I'll give you that,” Terry said finally, his voice lowering as he stepped closer, his stomach almost touching your breasts. “But it’d be easier if you learned to be a little nicer.”

“Nicer? What?..to you?” You shot back, barely holding back a chuckle. “Oh, sugar no..” With the sun setting behind him, the glow made him look almost ethereal, but you pushed that thought aside.

A cocky grin spread across his face. “Okay, if you won’t be nicer, I’ll just have to make you.” You stared defiantly up at Terry, feeling the tension thicken between you.

“I’m not scared of you, Terry. You can’t make me do nothin’,” you shot back, your voice steady. Terry chuckled, a low, teasing sound that sent shivers down your spine.

“Do you really think imma about to let you talk to me any kinda way? You got it twisted, girl.” Terry said, and you held your ground, refusing to look away.

“Yeah, well, I’m not letting some handsome cowboy who thinks he knows everything intimidate me.” You said that without thinking and felt embarrassed.

"Oh....you think I'm handsome, huh?" Terry asked, towering over you like a giant, and for a moment, the whole world faded out, leaving just the two of you standing there.

Your heart began to race at the proximity, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he would close that distance in a way you hadn’t expected. Was he gonna kiss you?

You fought the urge to let anticipation twirl around your stomach, but just as quickly as he leaned in, he pulled back with a smirk as a mischievous glint in his eye.

“I guess I'll get back to you on that one!" Terry turned on his heel and walked inside the house, leaving you breathless and baffled on the porch.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, watching him disappear inside. You needed to distance yourself. “Ugh!” you groaned, shaking your head to clear your mind.

You hopped off the porch and went to the stables to check on the horses. The familiar scent of hay does little to ground you. Once there, you grabbed a brush and approached your horse, Luna.

Luna nickered softly at your arrival. “Hey girl, it’s just us now,” you murmured, burying your frustrations in the rhythm of brushing her sleek black coat.

Each stroke helped to distract you from the memory of Terry’s smirk and those tense moments shared just moments ago. “Can you believe him? So infuriatin’,” you muttered.

Luna nudged you with her nose as if to soothe your frustrations. “Terry thinks he can just walk around here, looking fine as hell, and boss you around. Not gonna happen.”

Your mind wondered why you didn't get along with him. He was hardworking, helpful, sweet, and sexy as hell and his presence, the way he carried himself.

Perhaps it's the constant teasing and making fun of how you run things, but you knew it was never in a mean way, though you always had to take it there.

The soft whinny from your horse snapped you back, and you focused on brushing, willing your heart to stop racing every time you replayed that moment.

After a while, with the last of Luna’s coat shining, you leaned against her, closing your eyes and letting the calm wash over you. “I just need to get my head straight,” you whispered.

-

As the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the farm, you and Terry joined the other workers in wrapping up the day’s chores.

The golden light danced over everything, giving the fields a warm glow as the crickets began their nightly serenade. “Y’all done with them fence posts?” you shouted across the yard, wiping the sweat from your brow.

Terry leaned against a post, arms crossed and that familiar smirk on his face. “Yeah, we finished that up already,” Terry replied, his voice smooth like the whiskey you knew he favored.

After all the hard work, everyone slowly filtered out, heading home as the stars twinkled. You mused on it while cleaning up, the warm evening air settling around you.

That night, you found yourself curled in your cozy bedroom, buried beneath a blanket and lost in the pages of an erotic romance novel, the kind that swept you away from the mundane.

Your heart fluttered as you imagined yourself in the book—passionate, adventurous, and right there alongside a beautiful black man, a cowboy with light, greyish eyes and a hint of green that reminded you far too much of Terry.

“Girl, what is wrong with you?” you muttered, excitement and embarrassment fluttering in your stomach. “Eww.” You slammed the book shut, tossing it aside as if it could distance you from those heated thoughts.

The fantasy of you and Terry—fantastic, intense, yet somehow fitting—felt all too real. Deciding to clear your head, you hopped off the bed and went downstairs.

As you rounded the corner, the comforting sound of music wafted through the air. It drew you closer to the living room, where you found Terry lounging in the dim light, a glass of whiskey in one hand while he tapped his fingers to the beat.

"What are you doin' down here?" you asked, leaning against the doorframe. Your tone was a mix of attitude and curiosity. Terry looked up, his attention shifting to you with a slight smirk.

"Just chillin' and having a drink; wanna join?" He asked, raising the whiskey bottle high, the amber liquid glistening in the dim light. "Nah, I'm good," you said, rolling your eyes.

"Okay, cool! can you leave then? You really mess up the vibe with that bad attitude of yours," Terry said with a sigh, motioning you to leave with his hand, and you gasped, irritated.

“Terry, you need to stop tellin' me what to do. This is my house too, alright? My name on the deed just like yours.” You said firmly while stepping into the living room.

Terry lifted an eyebrow, his expression shifting into something sharper. He stood up, the sound of his boots scraping against the floor and cutting through the air.

“I see how it is. You really tryna push my buttons, huh? I ain't the one to mess with. Do you need me to check that attitude? ‘Cause I could go there if you wanted.”

His words hung between you two, heavy and tense. “You act like you know me so well, Terry. Maybe you need to get checked for thinkin’ you can just walk all over me like I'm some joke.” You said.

“You know I’m just playin’ with you. It’s all in good fun; I ain't tryin' to hurt your feelings. You love the back and forth, though, don’t you? It gets you all riled up. You wanted to see how far you could push me, right?” He said softly, moving closer to you.

Your breath caught, realizing he was onto something. Deep down, you did like it, testing the limits. “Oh please,” you replied, flipping your hair dramatically to the side of your shoulder.

In a swift motion, he closed the distance between you two. A gleam in his eye made the air around you feel electric, and before you could take another breath, he backed you against the wall.

“Are you sure about that?” Terry asked, his voice low, laced with a desire that left your heart racing. You met his stare, trying to retain your bravado.

“I—” you started, but how he looked down at you made your thoughts scatter. Those words hung in the air, your bravado dripping away beneath that smirk.

“You ain’t slick. You know you like me bein’ around, even if you won’t admit it.” That grin of his only made you want to smack him, but deep down, you knew the truth.

Something magnetic drew you to him, the tension crackling like static. You swallowed hard and crossed your arms in a futile attempt to shield yourself from his intensity.

“You all talk, sweetheart, but no action,” Terry said, pressing his body against you and that strong, overwhelming presence invading your space.

You didn’t know whether to scream or giggle; all you could think about was how close he was and how his presence made you feel—like you were on the brink of something wild and unpredictable.

It was thrilling and terrifying all at once. Finally, unable to hold onto your facade any longer, you gave him a playful shove, trying to regain some semblance of control.

“Get outta my face, Terry!” You shot back, and Terry stepped back, chuckling, but you could see that glimmer in his eyes—darkened before you knew it.

Terry yanked you from the wall and moved you over to the couch, bending you over the arm. You turned your head, heart pounding, trying to hide the smirk creeping up your face.

"What ya about to do, tough guy."

“Teach you a lesson,” Terry said, and before you come up with come back, you bit your lip to suppress a moan at the touch of his hands on your body.

Terry pushed your nightgown up and gave you a smack, causing you to cry out in pain and pleasure. You glance back at him; his eyes convey a serious intent, and you receive another sharp smack.

"Not as tough as I thought, huh? You ready to give up?" Terry asked; his voice was deep and sensual, giving another smack.

“Fuck you...no one...no one's giving up!” You cried, digging your nails into the cushion of the couch as you tried to suppress a moan from coming from your mouth.

“Tsk, Tsk, tsk, wrong answer. Okay, you leave me no choice," Terry said, grabbing your hair and pushing your face into the bottom cushion of the couch.

Terry moved your panties to the side and began playing with your pussy lips, running his fingers through the pool of your wetness. “Mmm...look at that pretty pussy! It's all wet for me."

“Terry, please!” You pleaded, gradually surrendering and allowing your body to express what you couldn't say.

"Please, what?" He asked, pulling your head by your hair and looking into your eyes with a mixture of amusement, lust, and pleasure.

“Please, just a little more,” You moaned urgently, desperation creeping into your voice. Terry raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Did you learn your lesson? You gonna stop talking at me like you crazy?” Terry asked, his tone teasing yet profound as if he were putting you on trial.

You hesitated, my pride battling with my desire. The truth was, you craved that tension, that thrill. you swallowed hard, resisting the urge to give in so easily.

But as you looked into his eyes, that smirk igniting a fire within you, you felt your resolve crumbling. “Yes, yes.” The words spilled out before you could hold them back. “Please, Terry.”

His smirk widened, a glimmer of satisfaction flashing across his features. He leaned closer, and you could feel the heat radiating between us.

“You’re really begging now, aren’t you?” he teased, enjoying the power he wielded in this moment.

“Yes, I am; I need it; I need you, please; I'm so sorry for being so mean to you; just please, I need more.” You begged, your voice loud beyond a whisper, laced with defiance and desperation.

Terry lets go of your braids and moves you to be spread wide on the couch before him. “Alright, then,” he said, a sense of authority in his tone. “I’ll give you what you’re asking for."

Terry rubbed his fingers through your soaked panties, making you moan with pleasure. "Please, Terry, stop teasing me." You cried, getting tears of frustration in your eyes.

"It's daddy for now, lil mama! You got that?" Terry ordered, smacking your pussy, and you looked into his eyes; the look was giving you all types of feels.

"Okay, well, daddy! Can you please eat my fucking pussy," You moaned, which made Terry chuckle and rip your panties off with a force like no other.

"I’m going to make you feel so good," Terry growls before plunging his tongue between your wet folds, going slowly and flicking his tongue through your folds.

"How does that feel, baby," Terry asked, and you couldn't believe he was doing wonders on you. "Fuck, Daddy, so good. Your tongue feels amazing"

"That's what I like to hear, And you taste so damn sweet. I could eat you for every meal" Terry said, and you moaned in response, grabbing the back of his head as he sought out your most sensitive spots.

You cried at how incredible his tongue was. Terry's plump lips capture your clit, and he sucks it into his mouth, alternating between flicks with the tip of his tongue and light nibbles with his teeth.

You removed your nightdress and tossed it across the room, began playing with one of your breasts with your right hand while the other was till the back of Terry's head.

"Ahhh, fuck, fuck oh my god," You cried, rolling your head back in pleasure, and Terry muffled in your pussy as he began fingering you and sucking at your folds.

"Fuck, mmmm baby, I love the way your pussy tastes so much," Terry said; your juices were all over his face and his beard. His eyes met yours, and he fingered you like trying to prove a point.

It was working so well on you, surprising because of the way his tongue flicked hungrily over your clit, the way his mouth just worked so hard you knew he was trying to make you squirt.

"Show me how much you love my pussy, daddy! Tell me who owns this fucking pussy" You moaned, challenged in your tone, and Terry smirked, diving his tongue back into your pussy and bringing your legs over his shoulder.

You chuckled before making an O in your mouth, feeling your body trembling slightly, arching your back against the back of the couch. A knot in your stomach began to grow.

"Shit, daddy. Oh my goodness, I see, I get it"

"Nah...I don't think you do."

"Oh, I do, I do, please. I'm shaking already; I can't take it." You cried, and Terry didn't care; he focused all of his attention on licking your swollen, sensitive clit.

You could feel your body tense, clutched onto Terry's head as you felt your orgasm rise. 'Can I cum, Daddy. I'm so close; I'll be a good girl for now, please."

"You promise to be a good girl from now on, not more talk back, and you gonna listen to me, right?" He asked, staring into you like a lion hunting his prey.

"Yes, yes, yes, please," You cried shaking your head with new tears coming from your face. Terry chuckled and began to flickering your clit with his fingers fast and with firm pressure;

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head. 'Cum, cum for me, baby. Let me hear you, let me hear those pretty sounds."

"Oh my gosh, I'm gonna fucking-" You cried, feeling yourself cum hard while a gushing of water came out of your pussy. "Mmm, baby, you look so beautiful when you cum," Terry said with a smirk.

Your chest rose up and down as you calmed down from your trembling while Terry stood up and wiped your juices that were all over his face.

Terry removed his shirt and pushed his shorts and underwear down to his feet with his boots. You gasped at the sight of his dick; it was huge, veiny and lengthy.

"Shit, that's huge. You have the most perfect dick I have ever seen, Terry." You bite your lip and go to stroking it, but Terry manhandles you to get on your knees on the floor and face towards the couch.

Terry grabs your neck and kisses you passionately, leaving you speechless before pulling away. You moaned when he gave your ass smack, and you leaned back, jiggling your ass for him.

"I want your dick so bad, big daddy. Please fuck me," You moaned, and. "How bad you want it?" Terry smirked, giving you another smack on the ass.

"So bad, I’m desperate to feel your dick throbbing inside me," You cried, titled your head to look at him, and Terry grasped your ass and thrust his dick through your wet folds, not daring to enter.

"Don't know, I need a little more, lil mama," Terry said, arching your back slightly and spreading your legs out a little more. "Please fuck me, I've been wanting you to for so long, please"

Terry slowly enters your wet pussy, which makes both of you moan at the same time. He cursed, loving how your walls gripped him like a glove. "Do you like that, baby?"

"Yes, Daddy, ahh, you feel so good inside me. Fuck, I love your dick already; it fits so perfectly," You moaned, looking back at him with desire.

Terry looked so fucking sensual in the light dim on him. "Mmm, baby girl you feel so fucking amazing. I could be so deep inside pussy forever."

You lean back and place your hand on his hip as he thrusts faster than before. "Pound my little pussy with your big dick, daddy," You moaned, looking up at him.

Terry immediately started pounding, moving his hand from your hip to grip your neck. "Fuck, fuck...Oh...I love hearing the sound of our skin slapping against each other."

"Push your ass back towards me, baby. I want to feel all of you," Terry said, smacking your ass, and you bit your lip, placing your hands on the edge of the couch and pushing it back against him.

"Like this, Daddy?" You asked with a moan, trying to match the rhymes of his rough, pounding thrusts. "Yes, baby, just like that, fuck. Take this dick so well," He moaned, His eyebrow furrowed.

Terry gripping the hand full of your ass before giving it a smack. You knew by the end of this that your ass was gonna probably slightly bruised, but you didn't care, so caught up with desire.

"Ahh, yes, don't stop, Daddy, fuck me," You moaned, feeling so much cream coming from your pussy, and Terry pulled you up and wrapped his arms around you.

He kissed you while still pounding into you. "I don't think I can stop until I can cum, Fuck, why is your pussy so perfect, girl," Terry moaned, burying his face in your neck while grabbing your breasts.

"I’ll only cum when you tell me to, Daddy. I wanna feel your cum, I want to be filled with your cum, please; I'm on the pill, so worries," You moaned, reaching between your legs and rubbing your clit.

"Fuck, baby, I want you to cum with me. Can you do that for me? Be a good girl and cum with your daddy," Terry said, grabbing your neck, and in minutes, both of them moaned and climaxed together.

Terry pulled you into a kiss as his hot cum came shooting out inside of you, causing you to moan into the kiss. He pulls out of your pussy, watching his cum drip out with a smirk.

Terry lost his balance and fell onto the soft carpet, trying to catch his breath. You giggled and propped yourself up on the couch. "That was...something!" you said, looking at Terry as his chest rose and fell.

"I can't believe we just did." You said softly, shocked your own damn self. When his eyes met yours, his face brightened with a smile.

"You're welcome, "Terry laughed, and you rolled your eyes, getting up from the couch to leave the living room.

Terry's voice stopped you in your tracks. "Hey, where you think you goin'?" He looked at you with a playful smirk, making your heart race faster.

"I'm just gonna shower, you know, clean up," you replied with a shy smile, trying to play it cool, but something in his gaze made you flutter.

"Okay! Mind if I join, sweetheart," Terry suggested, his tone light but the invitation lingering in the air. You thought for a moment, then nodded with a grin. "Sure, come on!"

"What? Really Damn, I think fucked you too good, got you acting like a whole different person," Terry joked, and you playfully hit him as you both went to the bathroom.

Once in the shower, the warm water cascaded down, and the playful banter began. "You better not hog all the hot water," Terry teased, splashing some soap suds your way.

"Terry, I'm not," you shot back, a playful smile on your lips. The laughter between you two quickly turned into something more intense.

The steam enveloped you as he kissed you, and you found yourselves fucking again, losing track of time. After the shower, you felt a wave of relaxation wash over you.

Terry pulled you close, his hands gentle on your skin as he started the aftercare routine, concern etched on his face. "You good? You feeling okay?" he asked, his voice low and soothing.

“Yeah, I’m cool. Thanks, Terry,” you replied, your heart fluttering at his tenderness. Terry then gestured towards his bedroom, his eyes brightening. “Wanna come cuddle for a bit?”

You paused, your stomach doing flips. "Uh, sure. just give me a minute to get dressed," You said, and he nodded. You made your way to your bedroom to throw on something comfortable.

You felt all kinds of butterflies as you changed. Once dressed, you headed to Terry's bedroom, pushing the door open slowly. He was waiting there, a soft smile lighting up his face at the sight of you.

“Took you long enough,” Terry joked, but his warmth made you feel at home. You climbed onto his bed, his familiar scent surrounding you—cologne mixed with something uniquely Terry.

Nestling into his arms felt like slipping into a soft cloud, safe and secure. "This is nice," you murmured, melting against him. “Yeah...you know,” Terry suddenly started.

“I really, really like you.” His honesty caught you off guard, making your heart race again. “You like me? For real?” you blurted out, surprise shifting into clarity.

It was time to lay it all out there. “I…I like you too Terry. A lot, actually.” A mischievous smile crept onto his face. “I know, baby girl. So, how ‘bout we go out on a date?”

“Yes. I’d love that,” you replied, feeling a wave of exhilaration wash over you. The butterflies in your stomach turned into a full-on fireworks show.

This was it—everything was changing, and all you could think was that you had never felt so alive. With that, you settled into each other’s arms, ready for whatever came next.

-

Over the next few months, you and Terry kept your relationship under wraps, enjoying the sweet thrill of being together without drawing too much attention.

The other folks at the farm could sense a change, though. Your laughter was brighter, your smiles broader, and Terry—oh, he was positively glowing.

The two of you knew how to flirt and play around casually and efficiently despite the deeper feelings simmering beneath the surface.

One sunny afternoon, you decided to escape the hustle of the farm for a picnic. You picked a spot amongst the wildflowers, vibrant and full of life, just like you both felt.

The sun kissed your dark-brown skin as you lay back on the blanket, watching the clouds drift lazily across the sky. Terry, ever the teaser, leaned in closer.

“You know, it's crazy, just not a few months ago. You hated my guts, and now you let me be in your guts,” Terry said, a teasing smirk on his lips.

“I didn't hate you, Terry, and stop playing with me,” you replied, laughing as you playfully swatted his arm. "Just making a jokey, jokey. You know you always look so gorgeous in sunlight," He said, cupping your cheek.

"I do?" You asked, smiling happily at him. “Yeah, you got that glow, like the sun loves to see your shine bright; I can’t get enough of it,” Terry said, leaning closer, his voice dropping softer.

With a spark in his eyes, he leaned in before you even realized what he was about to say. "I love you, baby!" Your eyes lit up, and you said, "I love you too, Terry." He smiled as both of your lips met.

It was a sweet moment that you wanted to freeze in time. As you both pulled away, laughing, you heard the distant sound of hooves approaching.

“Oh shit, we might be busted,” Terry whispered, a hint of panic in his voice, but you felt a rush of thrill at the possibility of being caught. It was Jenna and Mike, riding in casually on their horses.

Their expressions shifted from surprise to playful disbelief when they spotted you two. “Whoa, what’s goin’ on here?” Jenna called, a teasing grin stretching across her face as she and Mike dismounted.

“Looks like y’all been busy!” Mike said, giving his cousin, Terry, a look. “Uh… we can explain?” Terry stammered, hoping to smooth things over before it got out of hand.

Mike laughed, crossing his arms. “Explain what, cuz? This ain’t exactly rocket science. Look at you two; it’s obvious!” You exchanged a glance with Terry, suppressing a laugh.

“Okay, fine! We’re together,” you finally admitted, trying to sound nonchalant. “The best news I’ve heard all week!” Jenna chimed in, her excitement bubbling over.

“Hate to interrupt the lovey-dovey moment, but we need some help back at the farm,” Mike said, shifting gears as he glanced at the scattered picnic items.

“Things are a bit chaotic, and we could use an extra set of hands. You two can sit here and kiss some other time.” Jenna added with a chuckle.

“Yeah, we’ll help! Just give us a second to pack up,” you said, rolling up the picnic blanket, and Terry helped you pack up before throwing his arm around your shoulders.

He pulled you close as you walked back toward the horses. “Guess we can save this date for later then,” Terry said softly, fighting back a grin.

“Yeah, duty calls," You started. "But don’t worry big daddy; there’ll be plenty of time for us to make it up if you know what I mean," you whispered, nudging him as his eyes slightly darkened.

As you reached the horses, with smiles on your faces, the four of you rode back to the farm, the air buzzing with determination. You were in love, and nothing felt better like this.