#((we don't make getting to their happy ending easy; but even through it all; and even if the note we end on is a bit bitter))

[heroesneedalancer]

Post by u/DJConvex to r/AskReddit on Nov 6, 2024:

People who work in DC for the government, what is the vibe?

Comment by u/Meduselde:

Resigned. We are generally very good about not discussing politics in the workplace but the vibe was obviously off. My more conservative colleagues who were happy Trump won were extremely respectful. There wasn't smug gloating and they were very obviously being cognizant of others' feelings even more than normal. It was extremely appreciated. Ultimately, we survived the first administration and will survive again. It's not necessarily Trump who was the problem last time, but his inexperienced senior appointees. The world isn't going to end nor do I feel democracy will crumble at his feet. It's just gonna be chaotic, and that's the worst part as a worker bee. At least with Biden we had consistent leadership and clear guidance, even if you didn't agree with it. Under Trump, your "yes man" says "no" and that's how you rotate through four SECDEFs. But as a sign of hope, it also means that even the most loyal DO say "no" sometimes, especially when businessmen are finally confronted with the realities of governance.

They chill out REAL quick on their dismantlement plans when they see the work these agencies do and what's at stake if they don't stand up for their people. It's easy to say you will dissolve or cut funding for something when you do not truly understand it. And as much as people say we can ALL be magically replaced with "yes men," even the most stone-hearted appointees recognize that the last thing you ever want is to lose the entirety of your skilled workforce. They learn it's best to get the skilled people to work towards their vision and not hire enthusiastic but stupid people to attempt the same. If they do, they risk looking inept themselves. You don't get skilled federal workers in a blue portion of the country to work for you by being a fucking Nazi. We're cranky and will make your life hell if you behave like that. I'm not talking about some sort of organized resistance movement because we feel like it. That's wrong. But just imagine hundreds of thousands pissed off at you. If that's the Deep State at work, then we aspire to be the quality of swampy Deep State your racist uncle thinks we are. If implementing dictatorship was that easy, Trump would have taken out every agency his last term and fired us all. I am actually extremely proud of the resiliency and checks and balances that the American federal government has in place to prevent most of the shit he says he can achieve by waving a magic executive wand. (He's done this once. He knows he can't. He just lets the majority of the population believe he can.) Us feds will make it, as we always have.

And we will live up to our oath to serve the Constitution, not a president. We serve every official of every party faithfully within the bounds of legalities and our oath. Working for administrations you may not like it's just a part of the job that we all recognize. Public servants at the federal level generally hold that extremely close to their heart. The ones that don't (I'm talking to YOU, WaPo "informants!") put us to shame. We're just tired, man. I can't believe it has already been four years since the last round. There's going to be some waves, no doubt, and some people definitely are going to be hurt at upper levels. But grab a Twisted Tea and buckle up. We'll at least pretend it's meant to be a roller coaster and ride it. TL;Dr Democracy is not going to die. But a drink and "thanks" would go a long way.

EDIT: Woah! I woke up this morning and am surprised by how much traction this got. I'm sad that this was the most positive thing some people had read. I'm sorry it's been that bad. I am not predicting outcomes. I have no idea how it's going to go. It's going to be bloody. But the hope I am trying to get across is that we are a resilient people and a group of (generally) good people. It will be okay, okay? The people that really make or break your daily life are those around you and your local government. Hold those around you close to your heart and always be kind. Everybody go outside, take a deep breath, eat something you love, and hug your grandma (even if she voted differently). The world is still turning and the sky is still blue. Being surrounded by spiraling anger on the internet only makes us the losers, not those we disagree with. The only thing we can do right now is wait. We have a few months to cool off! Enjoy your holidays!

EDIT 2: I think everybody has forgotten about this, but go check out the memorandum signed by the Joint Chiefs of Staff at the end of Trump's first term after January 6. The feds basically said "fuck that" when people were scared that the government was going to turn the military on them to help Trump in some way. While it was specifically addressed to our armed forces members, it was spread throughout the DOD and beyond. Partially as a result of federal workers' fear (not actually ordered, to be crystal clear) that they would be asked to turn on citizens. This sentiment was echoed across the entire government via internal emails (from Trump appointees!) as well to the civilian workforce. That's one of my proudest moments as an American and why I know we will get through it.

Emphasis mine. Link to original Reddit Post. Link to an article about the aforementioned memorandum signed by the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

Don't give up. We will get through this.

[dreamsagain]

I figured it would be a good time to share an update with you. I completed 5 radiation treatment sessions in 10 days. I had a new Pet Scan today but no results yet. I wish I could say I'm confident of what the outcome will be. You see when I had the scan prior to the radiation, three new growths were discovered. The cancer in my body is very active. Honestly I was never supposed to live this long but here I am.

Each day I struggle. I can't walk anymore or use my legs. I have become quite the wheelchair master though. My dear friend Holly once told me to keep all four wheels on the ground. Sorry Holly. You get a little bored in my situation. I have come to accept some things that I never thought I would have to. I can't feel the sand of the beach on my toes anymore or the cool ocean water. I can't dance anymore not that I was every very good at it. No more hiking on our trips to northern New England. These may seem trivial to all of you. You never think of these things until you can't do them any longer.

The bigger issues exist. I know my survival chances are slim. I will never give up though till my last breath. I know I will never fall in love with that special girl or settle down or even have a family. Why would anyone want a cancer ridden cripple? My days are consumed with doctors, physical therapy and trying to keep my head up.

Through all of this I'm grateful. I'm grateful for the people that try every day to lift my spirits, to encourage me and support me and most of all love me.

So to the following people, I say thank you and I love you forever.

Lauren @callmenonames my best friend in the universe. I have no words to describe the love you have shown me and the love I have for you. You sacrifice for me every day even at the cost of your own health. You are truly amazing.

Ellie @everylittlethingshedoesismagic my sweet London friend and her beautiful partner Sarah. Not a day goes by that I don't get a sweet message or picture. Unconditional and unwavering support and love. I have dreamt so many times about coming to London to just give you a hug and tell you thank you. I hope some day I can do that. I love you my friend

Karen @karenpillagain where do I begin. You are sweet and kind. Very silly and quirky and I think a little crazy too. You make me laugh and smile. When you had your accident I cried for days. Your partner Kate is a very lucky girl as are yo to have her. Two beautiful Aussies that deserve life's very best. I love you both and do hope we can make that Disney trip someday.

CJ @crystaljaydeinside1 Another incredible Aussie. You never hold back your care and encouragement. Always a sweet message, encouraging word or song to lift me up. I'm glad we connected the way we have and always love our chats. You have become very special to me and Lauren as well. I do love you my friend.

Breelynn @breelynnxoxoxoxo Where do I begin? You were a big support to my sister till the end. You remained close to Lauren and have always supported us. One of kind with a heart bigger than your body. Caring, loving and beautiful. Thank you for your continued support and love. I love you girl! You are amazing

Holly @hollys-coffee-cafe I fell in love with you so easy. You are beautiful, caring, and very special to me. I know we had our moments but there are no conditions on my feelings. You are an encouragement to me to never give up and I never will. I will always love you.

Last but not least Sadie @bambibrowneyes when I met you thanks to Holly, you were dealing with your own issues. Your beautiful wife Shelby sick with the same awful disease as me. There was an instant connection with the three of us. Shelby has since passed and your life has gone on. New career, new city and new love. I'm happy for you my friend. Love you

Okay that's it from me. I probably missed several people. I'm sorry for the long worded post. If you remember, say a prayer, send me you good vibes or whatever you believe in. I need them all.

[herefortheships]

My fears and things I do NOT want to see in BJ3:

These are some elements and ideas I do not want to see in BJ3. Some ideas in here I simply want to disappear entirely from the ether of possibility 😅.

Here's the link to my previous post, about the things I DO want to get in BJ3.

Let's see here:

I'll start with Charles Deetz. I do NOT want to be subjected to the gurgling, sputtering noises he makes when he talks with no head again 😅, plus his character's story is super over now. So... Let's keep him off my screen. He took the Soul Train. Bye... Delia could have told him it was okay to leave before her; we only need to see Delia in BJ3.

Astrid still hating Lydia. They can still have friction, but Astrid being all moody teenager again maybe would get tiresome. (It'd be cool if there's a time skip and Astrid is a little older now. I've mentioned before how I think starting BJ3 with a time skip would be beneficial to set up endgame Beetlebabes.)

One of the biggest things I do NOT want at ALL is Lydia getting rid of Betelgeuse forever... Or getting him out of her life or something like that. She can start the movie seeking to do just that (and I think that'd be a very realistic way to start the film, with Lydia trying to find a way to get him out of her life for good), but then her character can and should evolve to want the contrary through the film.

Lydia marrying some random new character at the end. Literally nightmare material right there. And "ew" factor that'd make me hate the movie lol. She could start the film with some random new character as a love interest, but... that guy better be gone by the end. Actually, it'd be interesting if she did have a rando love interest at some point and rejected him, realizing she doesn't want him, because he is everything Betelgeuse is not. ;)

Betelgeuse sacrificing himself for Lydia, ending up permanently gone or dead-dead, resulting in Lydia marrying some random new character at the end and that being a "happy ending". (Nooo get away from here with that energy 😭).

Lydia's happy ending being getting rid of Betelgeuse and marrying a rando new character. Triple ew. Can you tell I really hate any version of this idea?

Astrid hating Betelgeuse. lol She can start the film hating him, and then evolve to love and accept him as her stepfather and her mom's new love.

While we're at it, Betelgeuse hating Astrid. He could start the film frustrated with her or whatever, but he better adore his new stepdaughter by the end. Or else. 😤 Tbh I think he already loves her just because she's Lydia's child, but she did point out the contract being null and void. Will he have some resentment or sadness? We'll have to see. I think Beej is easy going though; he may not give a shit and still adore her anyway lol.

Betelgeuse returning with Delores or having another random new love interest. EW no no no no. Please take that energy away from me and hide this evil thought bubble from Tim Burton's head. *Burns a bundle of white sage to purify the air around this one*.

Betelgeuse giving up on Lydia and letting her go so she can go "be happy" with some random new love interest... NO no no no... Please nope.

Lydia being endgame with Richard in the afterlife. This would be so random, considering Lydia said their relationship was over way before his accident, so I don't know why this one even crossed my mind, but it did because maybe I'm a little paranoid with my ships, I guess. lol

And finally, my BIGGEST FEAR right here: Betelgeuse being revealed as a true trickster demon that never cared about Lydia at all 😨. Like, Betelgeuse having just played Lydia to get his way in the end. I would probably ignore Tim Burton exists if they go that route, which lucky for us all will NEVER ever happen. Tim clearly loves Beetlejuice and Lydia, not just as individual characters, but also as a couple (just listen to him talking about them in this clip, about choosing the McArthur Park song; you can feel his fondness for these characters in his voice), and so does Michael and Winona; they would never allow a script with that outcome.

Oh! Added after I thought I was finished with this post... This nightmarish idea 😨😨: Betelgeuse having had a son in the past and his descendant(s) being a part of the plot. AAHH! Get that hellish thought away from meeee. Why was I haunted by this one out of nowhere?! Get that horrible thought away from me (sorry to anyone who thinks this one is cool. This is the stuff of NIGHTMARES to me 💀. Like, franchise-ruining stuff right here, tbh).

So this is it! You can read my previous post here. Hopefully these are just irrational fears. lol Some of these I can forgive (like Charles being in the movie, and maybe even Lydia having a different love interest for part of the movie, as long as it's not the endgame). But there are some of these that would honestly ruin the movie for me (like Betelgeuse having a son in the past, or Betelgeuse being truly evil and having never truly cared about Lydia, or Lydia's happy ending being getting rid of Betelgeuse forever. Those three are just my worst fears, tbh. Also wouldn't forgive Betelgeuse ending up with Delores, but that one is a pretty ridiculous idea, tbh).

*Grabs that bundle of white sage again for good measure. May none of these happen.*

[theheadlessgroom]

@beatingheart-bride

"I've more than heard of her. Doreen and I were friends as children."

Once more did a smile ghost Susannah's lips at the mention of her oldest and dearest friend: Even some decades since they last saw each other, she still remembered Doreen Gracey as the bestest friend she'd ever had. Never once did she ever bat an eye at Susannah's heritage, nor her lower status class-wise: She was just pleased as punch to have a friend her own age to play with her on the massive Gracey estate, and was quick to rope her new friend into all sorts of games and adventures, all of which Susannah recalled fondly, as she told Philippe about her father's employment under the Gracey's, leading to their meeting.

Brightening a little at her recounting, she asked, "H-How is Doreen? I...I take it she isn't...engaged yet?"

She approached the question delicately, for she knew exactly who her old friend's heart really belonged to: Edward Henshaw, son of one of the Gracey's cooks. Doreen had loved him since childhood (even once swearing to marry him one day, and to make Susannah her maid of honor when she did), but there was no doubt the Gracey's wouldn't approve. Not only was Edward the son of a servant, he was black, and so the idea of their daughter marrying him would no doubt scandalize the elders of the family.

But then again, it seemed like there was little pleasing the Gracey family...sometimes as a child, it seemed like Belle, the Gracey's head maid and Doreen's tutor, was the only one supporting the young mistress. Susannah hoped that was still the case.

[ssahotchnerr]

begging for nanny!reader x hotch

aka aaron discovers reader is going on a date, our man gets a bit mean and jealous, things get a bit steamy and it ends with him begging reader not to go🙈🙈

right now

🤭 cw; fem nanny!reader, jealous and some possessive!aaron 😵‍💫, slight bratty reader?, heavy suggestion - minors dni wc; 1.2k

"Homework is done. Soccer bag is packed for tomorrow, but uniform is finishing up in the dryer now." You relayed everything on your internal to-do list, mentally checking off each box. "Oh, he has a permission slip for a class trip in his folder that needs signing. I reminded Jack to remind you, but just so you're aware, too. He's eating at his friend's, so you don't have to worry about dinner."

Aaron nodded along to your instructions. You looked throughout the kitchen, as if something would pounce out and remind you of something you'd potentially forgotten.

When nothing availed, "Okay, that should cover it."

"You're amazing, per usual." Aaron complimented, exhaling an at-eased breath. He glanced around the clean apartment, before discreetly admiring you. "I can't tell you how nice it is knowing things are taken care of here. I'm able to come home and breathe. Jack adores you. Seriously, what would we do without you?"

You blushed at his praise, warmth sweeping through you. "Happy to help."

"How was he today?" He asked, swiftly grabbing the mail from the table, beginning to poke through it.

"Perfect. Per usual." You shared, tossing Aaron a grin. Jack made your job tremendously easy - he was cooperative, kind mannered, overall the sweetest kid. "Although, I did have to remind him to stop leaving his shoes in the middle of the entryway." You added jokingly, as if it could be an inconvenience.

Aaron chuckled. His eyes squinted humorously as he quipped in return, "I'll have a chat with him."

Your smile lingered, fading away gradually as you began packing yourself up. "And thanks for relieving me early. I know how busy you are, so I really do appreciate it."

Nervousness pumped through your veins at the thought of your evening plans. You've been in the Hotchners' lives for a few months now, so casually discussing your plans should've come naturally, easily, but it didn't. Not with all things considered.

"No problem, happy to accommodate. You deserve to relax too." His eyebrows furrowed, tossing aside unimportant, junk mail. "If you don't mind me asking, what're you up to tonight?"

"I, um," Your gaze dropped, grabbing ahold of your bag. Your cheeks flushed, suddenly feeling very guilty. You took your time answering, "I have a date, actually."

He stopped stifling through the mail at once, his gaze lifting. "A date?"

"Yeah." You continued to pack up, throwing your bag over your shoulder and avoiding his eyes altogether. "A date."

"With who?" Aaron's words were harsher than he anticipated, causing you to freeze this time. He didn't like the concept of you seeing someone, not a bit.

Your eyes finally met his - his hardened stare. The expression awakened something in you, and you reciprocated back, your words equally as blunt. "Nobody you know."

You've never witnessed Aaron like this, and likewise, it brought something out in you as well; a newfound attitude. You wanted to disobey, solely to see how he reacted. He clearly wasn't happy, and you were entranced to find out more; curious as to what he would do, and hoping it was what you had in mind.

Aaron stood there rigidly, silently seething. The atmosphere had changed completely. No longer was it a light, witty one - but filled with the utmost tension.

"Well, thanks again-" Your hand found the doorknob, pulling the door open a few inches. You didn't make it far; Aaron's hand found the door above your head, pushing it shut.

"What's he like?"

You always caught whiffs of Aaron's cologne all throughout the apartment, whether he was in the residence or not. It was spicy, yet subtly sweet; suitable for him.

But now with his close proximity, mumbling into your ear, it was dizzying. You couldn't think straight even if you tried. You turned, coming face to face with his chest. His button-up was stretched tight against his torso, adding to the illusion of the strong muscle he possessed underneath. His arm had also stayed put, to the right of your temple.

You were caged in, and not complaining.

It had a notable effect it had on you. You wanted to be all consumed by him; you needed him to take charge, and you'd willingly allow it.

Your back met the door, as well as your head as you gazed up at him. You were lost with words, your heart thumping wildly in your chest, restricting any normal breathing.

"What's he like?" He repeated, urging you to answer. While his voice remained taut, it was joined by a condensing tone. As if he knew better. Knew you better, and you weren't the one to object.

Needless to say, he was enjoying this: making you noticeably squirm, and the fact it didn't take much to do so.

Your breath hitched, going fuzzy at the edges. "I don't know. A friend set us up."

"I think you should cancel it."

"Excuse me?'

"By all means, you can go. Only," His eyes flicked up and down your body, slotting a thigh between your legs. "What you're exhibiting tells me you'd rather not."

You resisted the urge to grind down on his leg, attempting to remain as neutral as possible. "Are you profiling me?"

"Maybe." Aaron smirked softly. His eyes were dark, a deep contrast to the glow you had witnessed earlier. "Maybe I have been for a while."

"Okay." You challenged him, forcing yourself to speak up. With an arch of your eyebrow, "What have you noticed?"

A delightful little laugh escaped him. As stern as he was portraying, there was still a gentleness to him. "You want me to touch you right now."

"What?" You squeaked out. He wasn't wrong.

"Don't interrupt. Let me finish." He leaned in closer, his hands itching to make contact with your waist - to firmly hold you - to dig his fingertips just enough into your hips to leave marks. "I see the way you look at me. I always have. Similar to now, only your pupils are dilated. Your breath has picked up so dramatically, it's almost amusing."

You remained silent, holding your gaze, while he continued.

"This is the closest we've ever been to each other, and by no means are you trying to move away. You have the space to." He relaxed his stance, to emphasize his point. "You're in no hurry."

You bit your lip, resisting the urge to squirm. You were getting worked up, arousal pooling in you - it didn't help with your need for friction.

"I haven't done anything yet, and just look at you."

A soft whimper left you as you forced your posture to straighten, slowly perching up on your tiptoes. Your lip ached to meet his. The gap between the two of you was maddening; you needed him on you, you on him, you didn't care. As long as the contact was there.

"Do you want me to? I need a yes, sweetheart." He inched closer, his lips dangerously close, centimeters apart.

And with that, you succumbed to him completely, scrambling to throw your arms over his neck and pulling his body to yours.

"Yes."

[imaginaryf1shots]

Soulmate | Max Verstappen Ver.

WC: 4.1K

Max x journalist!reader

Summery: you live in a world where soulmates exist, and until you find yourself, you only see in black and white.

Warnings: none?

Masterlist

Max Masterlist

Lewis Ver. , Oscar Ver. , Charles Ver.

In a world where everyone is born seeing black and white, the promise of seeing colour is on everyone's mind. The key to unlocking the colours is your soulmate. Meeting their eyes will make you be able to see all the hues and shades of the world. Those who see colours describe it so beautifully. People usually discover their soulmates between the age of 18 and 25, some earlier and some later. However, some people start to lose hope when year after year passes and no colour is introduced into their lives.

You have lived your life hoping and believing that one day, a single glance will change your world. But as you've hit your adult years and not a single colour, you've lost hope, all your friends and family see colour already, even your 13 year old cousin. So you just came to terms with seeing life in monochrome. You just focused on your career, building it up and making something of yourself.

You've worked in a few sports before, football, tennis before you moved to motorsport, starting with NASCAR then Formula 2 and here you are now after two months in Formula 2 you've been promoted to Formula 1. The world of formula 1 is very fast-paced, and you find yourself deep in it, watching old races and interviews and races. The sport intrigued you, the races, the adrenaline, the drama.

Due to your easy going nature, and how you can get people comfortable, you've been made to interview the drivers for a new segment for F1TV, a room was giving to you on track and each week you sit down for a long interview with two drivers.

“I just don't understand. Why won't you try it?” You heard your mum's voice through your phone's speaker. Rolling your eyes at her words as you got ready for the day. “Don't roll your eyes at me.”

You sigh and wonder how she always knows when you do that. “Mum, I told you, I don't want to.”

“I just don't get why, I've heard of so many stories of people being happy after they try it.”

“Mum, please, I'm busy with work, I don't have time for any of this.” You exasperated.

“That excuse died a long time ago.” Your mum fought back.

“Mum, I love you, but you just don't get it, so please just leave me be.” 

“I only say this because I care about-”

“You don't understand, and you never well, okay, you found dad when you were 19, you've found him and you never had to go on dates for people who lost or gave up, and yes I kind of lost hope, I'm not getting my hopes up anymore, but it kills me, why do I not have a soulmate, everyone I know already found theirs and I hear about it all the time, I'm lonely, I'm extremely lonely, even when I'm out with friends when we have family gatherings I'm lonely, and I heat about colours and shades and all I see is grey, so don't try to enterfer anymore please, just let me be.”

There was a long moment of silence.

“I'm sorry, love.” Was all she could say in the end. “I didn't realise.”

“I know you didn't.” Your voice sounded defeated. “I have a to go, I'll talk to you later.”

“Okay, honey, talk to you later.”

Your conversation with your mother left you feeling down and unmotivated.

This weekend, you'd be interviewing Alex Albon and Max Verstappen. Alex came first, and you sat down in front of the cameras for the lengthy interview. The set was cozy, and Alex was a blast to interview. You talked about racing to his pets, to golf, to his dreams, and so on. Alex is funny and easy to talk to you, so the interview went smoothly, and he didn't stop talking, and it all just flowed easy between the two of you. Even with your bad mood, you still enjoyed your time, and your mood got better.

After Alex left with a quick hug, you were told that Verstappen would be coming a bit later than anticipated, so you'd have 45 minutes between the interviews. That time, you and the crew took a break and ate some food before you had to be ready once more for the reigning world champion. And right before he came in, one of the crew rushed in and went straight to you and the producer.

"Max is apparently in a very bad mood. The media panel today was a disaster." He told the two of you, your eyes met the producers in worry. You've seen interviews of angry Max, and you weren't looking forward to interviewing him, not after the morning you had.

"I thought we only had drivers without the panel for the week?" You asked, confused.

"I did, too. There must've been a mix-up either with us or his schedule." The producer told you. "What was he asked?"

"Uh, they asked about him not finding his soulmate, and if it's maybe a sign that he's meant to be alone." You and the producer gasped at the rude question, of course his mood was soured, you don't ask or speak about people who haven't found their soulmates like that, you knew the pain of not finding your other half very well, and it's always painful to constantly asked about if you found them. "They even asked if he thinks his mood will get better once he does and if he'll calm down."

"Wow, that's just, that's so rude." The producer said and looked at you. Everyone knows you haven't found yours as well. The producer gave you a smile and patted your shoulder. "Don't worry and just stay calm. Our questions aren't intrusive or uncatting. We don't have anything about his love life.”

“You're right.” You nod to yourself in encouragement.

Max walks in with his entourage, his press officer walks over to you and the producer, she tells you to just jump into the interview seeing as he ran late to come here and he has other things he needs to do after.

You glance at the driver as he gets mic-ed up. Max's presence was imposing, his haw was set, and his eyes were hard. You could feel his mood even from a distance. The producer hurried you along.

You sat on the comfortable sofa, you try out the sofas each week to make sure it's comfortable for the drivers, as the sport light was on you. You introduced yourself with a fake smile, glancing at Max for a second before looking at your notes.

"Good afternoon, Max." You started calming your racing heart by saying to yourself that this is just an interview. "Thank you for taking the time to speak with us today. How are you feeling about this weekend's race?"

"It's going to be a challenging race, but I'm confident." Max's expression remained guarded, but he responded as calmly as he could. "The team has done a great job, as we're well-prepared."

"That's always good to hear." You replied, keeping your tone light. Maybe this won't be too bad. "This track has a lot of history. Do you have any special memories or moments here that stand out to you?"

"Definitely, this was one of the first tracks I raced in in Formula 1." Max's gaze softened, and yet again, your eyes just looked all over his face not meeting his eyes, even in monochrome you couldn't deny how good looking he is, you wondered what colour his hair is, it looks soft.

"It's a very demanding track, but once you get it right, it's very rewarding."

"That's wonderful." You nodded, feeling the tension ease just a bit. "Now, moving away from racing for a moment, how do you usually unwind during the season? Especially with such a long season, do you have any hobbies or activities that help you relax?"

As you asked the question, you looked up, meeting Max's eyes for the first time. In that split second, and as you blinked, everything changed. The world around you, previously in grayscale blur, just erupted into vibrant, breathtaking colour. Starting from Max's eyes, their shades the first thing you've seen, and moving to the color of his clothes, the sofa and everything around you, everything has come to life in a way you've never experienced before. Max's eyes warm and held an expression mirroring your own.

Max blinked, and in an instant, his stern an slightly annoyed façade/mood broke, a genuine smile that he never had before broke across his face.

"I-uh." He cleared his throat to try and regain some of his composure after the revelation he just had, both your eyes meeting and not straying from each other. "I enjoy spending time with my family and friends." He said, his voice softer, almost as if he was speaking to you alone. "I also spend a lot of time sim racing and gaming with my friends, a bit of FIFA here and there."

Like Max, you could hardly believe what had happened, fighting to maintain your composure, you continue a smile tugging at your lips. "That sounds like a lot of fun. Do you ever play FIFA with other drivers? I imagine it would get pretty competitive."

"Yes, we do, sometimes." Max chuckled, the tension between the two of you completely dissolved to the amazement of everyone behind the cameras. "It's always a good time, and it definitely gets competitive. We take it seriously, even though it's just for fun."

The crew keeps exchanging confused glances unaware of the profound shift that had occurred. You force yourself to focus on the next question, the vibrant colours making everything around you feel surreal.

“Speaking of competition, if you weren’t a Formula 1 driver, what other career path do you think you might have taken?” You asked, genuinely curious.

Max leaned back, considering the question. “I’ve always been passionate about sports, so maybe something related to that, like engineering or coaching. I enjoy working closely with a team and seeing how everything comes together.”

“That’s really interesting.” You said, nodding. “It shows how much you value teamwork and the technical aspects of the sport.”

“What about you?” Max asks, and you look at him confused. “If you weren't a journalist, what would you want to be?”

“Oh, since I choose sports and have been surrounded by it for years, I think I'd be a sportswoman.” You tell him with a smile. “You're lucky, I'm too old to get into karting.”

“Guess, if you were into karting, we would've met years ago.” You knew what he meant. You could've met your soulmate years ago if you'd been in karting. 

“I guess so.” You try not to think about the what ifs as you ask the last question. “One last question that we ask to every driver, what advice would you give to young aspiring drivers who look up to you?”

Max’s eyes met yours again, a spark of connection undeniable between you. “I’d tell them to stay focused and never give up. It’s a tough journey, but if you’re passionate and willing to work hard, you can achieve your dreams. It’s important to stay dedicated, even when things get tough.”

“Great advice, Max. Thank you so much for your time. It’s been a pleasure talking with you.” You concluded, barely able to contain the smile spreading across your face.

Max smiled back, the warmth in his eyes unmistakable. “Thank you. It’s been great speaking with you, too.”

The interview wrapped up, but as the revelation between the two lf you lingered you didn't want to leave, after so many years of guessing who your soulmate be and almost giving up entirely you didn't want to be apart from even for a second.

Max may seem tough to people, strong and determined, but he's spent nights dreaming of when he'd finally meet you. His thoughts lately have been of self doubt, maybe everyone is right, and the reason he hadn't met you yet is that he doesn't deserve you. He's too hot-headed, too aggressive. But here you are, proving him and everyone who doubted him wrong.

The crew, oblivious to the transformation, began packing up the equipment, their chatter and movements a blur in your colourful new world.

Max turned to you, his demeanour noticeably lighter, a subtle smile still playing on his lips. 

“I don’t have my phone with me.” Max managed to find his voice, his voice softer now, almost tentative. “Could I borrow yours for a moment?”

“Of course.” You replied, your voice trembling slightly as you handed him your phone.

He took it with a nod of thanks and quickly entered his number, calling his own phone to ensure that he'll be able to contact you after the day is over. When he handed your phone back, your fingers brushed, and an electric jolt shot through you, confirming the profound connection. As if the colours weren't enough, the electric feeling that went through you is a confirmation. Max left the room with a lingering look at you.

The crew, sensing something unusual but unable to pinpoint it, exchanged puzzled glances. One of your colleagues approached, and his brow furrowed in confusion. 

“What just happened?” He asked, his tone laced with curiosity. “Did you two know each other before?”

You struggled to keep your emotions in check, a smile fighting to break free. “No, we just...connected.” You said, unable to find the right words to describe the whirlwind of emotions and the explosion of colour that had transformed your world.

Max left the room and started to look around, as if he's seeing everything for the first time and in a sense he was. He took in the colours that have been described to him many times before, he looked to the sky and saw the blue everyone described, he saw a few trees and saw the green leaves and the brown trunk. Everything looked so different now.

The rest of the day you both got questions and buzzed looks from those working with you, both your moods are good and it's not wavering, it's not changing. The realisation of what had happened, of finding your soulmate in such an unexpected place, left you reeling.

Later, as the paddock began to empty and the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the vibrant landscape, as you stood and watched your first colourful sunset, you received a message from Max.

Meet me after you finish work. We need to talk.

Time could couldn’t go by fast enough, you kept looking at your phone waiting for Max to tell you where you'd meet  you had finished your work for the day, but work for F1 drivers take kuchen longer than yours. Every moment stretched into eternity as you waited for it to end. As you looked at the sun from the top of the FIA hospitality, you wished Max was with you enjoying your first sunset together. You dont know Max, you know if Max, but you've never met before today, but you feel like you do. It feels like everything is alright, like the world is finally tilted the right way, gravity is finally working.

come to redbull motorhome.

You made the jounry from the FIA building to redbull, right as you reached through building Max came out and gestured for you to come in, trying not to be seen by fans or cameras. He made you walk in front of him, his hand on your back as he guided you. You feel the heat, and even the electricity was evident through the layers of your clothes, you relaxed instantly to his toutch, leaning back into it. Max sighed. It felt like he could toutch you skin to skin, the feeling vibrated through him filling him up.

Max led you to his room. From the tours you've seen other teams do, Max's room looked the best. You both sat on the sofa facing each other. Your eyes were just taking the other in, Max's hair was ruffled, as if he ran his hand through it a lot. You took in his eyes, which you now know are blue, his nose the shape of his jaw, yhe frekle on his lips, you're trying to memorise him. Tattoo him into your mind.

Max took your hand in his, and you wonder if the feeling of electricity will remain forever or will it fade with time. You both close your eyes for a moment. 

“Did you have a good day?” You asked softly after you opened your eyes.

“It didn't start ikay, but there's something that made my day, my week, my life.” Max replied, his voice gentle. You couldn't fight the smile that took over your face. There was a moment of silence, each of you searching for the right words to express the whirlwind of emotions you were feeling.

“I can’t believe what happened earlier.” You began, your voice filled with wonder and disbelief. “I never thought... I had almost given up on finding my soulmate.”

Max nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Me too. I’ve been so focused on racing, I started to think that maybe it wasn’t going to happen for me. But then I saw you, and everything changed.”

You leaned closer, it wasn't a conscious decision, but you were feeling the warmth of his presence. “I’ve been living in black and white for so long, I forgot what it felt like to hope. And now, it’s like... like everything has come alive.”

Max squeezed your hand, sending a familiar electric thrill through you, a reminder of the bond you had discovered. “I know exactly what you mean. I’ve been so caught up in my career, I stopped looking for anything else. But today, meeting you... it’s like the world has finally made sense.” You smiled, your heart swelling with a mixture of relief and joy. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? How we can go from feeling like we’re missing something, to finding everything in a single moment.”

“I’m so glad we found each other. It’s like a dream come true, one I never thought I’d get to experience.” Max’s gaze softened, his eyes reflecting the same vibrant colors that now filled your world.

You squeezed his hand, feeling the connection deepening with each passing second. “I’m happy too. I was beginning to think that maybe it wasn’t meant for me, that maybe I’d never see the world in colour. But now, being here with you... it feels like everything was leading up to this.”

Max’s smile widened, and he leaned closer, his hand still holding yours. “I know we’ve just met, but I feel like I’ve known you forever. It’s like... like we were always meant to find each other, no matter what.”

You nodded, tears of happiness welling up in your eyes. “I feel the same way. It’s like all the waiting. All the wondering was worth it because it brought me to you.”

He gently wiped away a tear that had escaped down your cheek, his touch tender and reassuring. “We have a lot to look forward to.” he said softly. “And I can’t wait to experience everything in colour, either you.” 

You leaned into his touch, your heart filled with a warmth you had never known before. “Me too, Max. I’m so grateful we found each other, even if it took a bit longer than we expected. It was worth the wait.”

He pulled you into a gentle embrace, the world around you fading into a blur of colour and emotion. For the first time in your life, you felt complete, the missing piece of your heart finally found.

As you sat there in his room, the noise from outside faddws away and a that mattered was that you found each other.

Later that week on Sunday, you find yourself in the media pen, Max wasn't on the podium after contact with another driver on track, Max wasn't amused, he hated losing, he was clearly not satisfied. The frustration was evident in his clenched jaw and the tense set of his shoulders as he made his way through the sea of microphones and cameras, his responses curt and tinged with irritation. The incident with another driver had cost him the win, and you could already sense the frustration simmering in the air.

Finally, it was your turn. As he approached, you could see the tension in his posture, the anger still simmering just below the surface. You offered a gentle smile, hoping to soften his mood.

“Hi, Max. Tough race today.” You began, keeping your voice calm and understanding. “Can you walk us through what happened out there?”

Max sighed, his expression strained but slightly less harsh as he met your gaze. “Yeah, it wasn’t great. We were doing well, but then there was contact with another car, and that threw everything off. It’s frustrating because we had a good chance of winning.”

You nodded, listening intently. “I can understand how disappointing that must be. Can you tell us more about the incident? What exactly happened?”

He glanced around, his irritation still evident but less intense than before. “He was going for an overtake, and I thought I had enough room, but we ended up colliding. It cost us a lot of time and positions. It’s just... frustrating.”

Your heart went out to him. You wanted to offer some comfort, to show him that you understood his frustration. Max was leaning his hands on the barrier so you subtly reached out and touched his hand, a gentle, reassuring gesture. He glanced down, surprised, and when he looked back up at you, his eyes had softened.

“I’m really sorry to hear that, Max.” You said, your voice filled with genuine concern. “It must be tough to end the race this way after all the hard work you and the team put in.”

He took a deep breath, his expression relaxing a bit more. “Yeah, it’s not the result we wanted, but that’s racing. We’ll learn from this and come back stronger. Thanks for understanding.”

You offered a supportive smile, your hand still resting lightly on his. “I’m sure you will. You’ve always shown great resilience. What’s the plan moving forward from here?”

Max’s mood seemed to lighten further, the tension visibly easing from his shoulders. “We’ll go back, analyze what happened, and make sure we’re better prepared for the next race. It’s important to keep looking forward.”

“Absolutely.” You agreed, your voice encouraging. “One setback doesn’t define you or the team. You’ve got a lot of races ahead, and I’m sure we’ll see you back on the top soon.”

He smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “Thanks. It means a lot to hear that.”

As the interview wrapped up, Max’s demeanor was noticeably calmer. The frustration from earlier had dulled, replaced by a quiet determination. He glanced at you, a hint of gratitude in his expression.

“Thanks for the interview.” He said, his voice softer once the mic was out of his face. “And for... you know, understanding.”

You smiled back, your heart lifting. “Anytime, Max. I’m sure the next race will be better.”

He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned to leave. Max will always be grateful for you. He's known you for a couple days, and you both spent all of your free time together and texting whenever you could. He felt like you understood the highs and lows of racing making him bind with you more. You understood sport and how everything can change in a second.

For now, the disappointment of the day was behind him, and the promise of future victories lay ahead. And in that brief, quiet moment, you had been able to offer a bit of comfort, a reminder that even in the toughest times, there’s always a reason to look forward.

Max accidently said he sees colour in one of the interviews a few months later, and so the hunt for his soulmate has begun. Thankfully, since you work in F1, you weren't suspected, and so you were able to keep your privacy. For a while.

During winter break, photos of you were released to the public, and the fans have gone wild. Every single interaction you've had was cut and edited. And the moment your eyes met went viral all over social media, in the F1 sphere and outside of it.

For you and Max, you're both just glad you finally found your other half. That you don't have to go through this world alone.

Vote for the next one

Maintaglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03

[prael]

Currents

Kinktember Day 12: Electrophilia

Aespa Winter x male reader smut

words: 3,194 Kinktember Masterlist

"Sign here. Here. And here."

"And what's this for, exactly?" Winter asks, pointing a dainty finger at the paperwork.

"Protection. When someone like you enters a place like this, I need you to sign a waiver stating that you're of sound mind and know what you're doing."

"My mind is far from sound," she says with a playful wink.

Winter takes the pen from your hand. Her nails are painted a matte red with glittery bits at the tips. When she scrawls out Kim Minjeong on the dotted lines, it looks akin to an intricate piece of calligraphy. She places the pen on top and slides it back across the desk. "Now. I've signed and paid. Can we get to the fun?"

With a smile and a nod, you wordlessly guide her to the room she paid for. On the way, you take a few glances back at her, there's this keen expression of wonderment as she spots rooms for every type of fetish she might one day indulge in. Little ideas fired around her mind. What she might try next and how it may very well send her to heights of pleasure unforeseen. She must feel your gaze upon her, as a small giggle and coy smile creep on her face, and she asks in a small voice, "What?"

"Nothing," you say as you pull open the door at the end on the right. "You just have this look about you."

"A good look, I hope?"

She walks through the threshold. As the door closes behind you, the neon strips light up the room in a pale violet. Black leather and cushions cover almost every surface and all the other items seem so insignificant around the electrified bed in the middle. "Intrigue and excitement are always a good look in a place like this."

Winter's eyes alight as if someone had set a flame to a blanket of kindling. "This place... it's amazing." The corners of her mouth inch towards her ears as her gaze sweeps every nook and corner of the room, from the hanging metal chains and restraints to the riding crops and collars lined up by size, perfectly uniformed and orderly on their wooden mounts. Her gaze settles on a coil of rubberized cable as the width of her pupil increases, darkening her eyes. "I thought I would be nervous, but..."

Winter steps further into the room, you watch her take delicate steps as she stares at the centre-piece, the bed that will soon become her salvation, her ruin, her desire personified. She takes her jacket off and carelessly drops it on the floor as she spins back towards you, her eyes are wild and yet bright with lust as her tongue runs over her top row of teeth.

"I'm so excited," she confesses. "It's... exhilarating."

She steps close to you, her breath washing against your neck, sending an enticing thrill down the base of your skull.

"How would you like me? And don't go easy on me okay? I might look fragile..." Winter steps back a couple of times, letting you size her up as if you haven't been doing it since the moment she walked it. "but I'm not."

"Let's start by getting you fitted with a little something," you say as you walk to the side, picking out the perfect shock collar to fit Winter. Something thin would be best, is what you decide. Such a slender frame as hers wouldn't suit a big chunky collar.

"Yes, please," Winter says, making an energetic skip up to your side and resting her hand on your shoulder. "Something light is usually my colour."

"I think so too. Something skinny too. Ah, I know just the one."

After a brief scan along the top three rows, you spot the perfect collar to suit her. It's a light pink, it's her size and looks as delicate and attractive as she is.

"Oh my. That's... so cute," she sighs.

You pull it from its hook and open it. "Now, come here winter. Let me put it on you. Make sure it fits."

Obedient and happy to comply, Winter eagerly steps forward, craning her neck back slightly. Her breaths are even and calm as she closes her eyes. "There's something so... vulnerable about being collared. It's intoxicating," she explains.

"Do you want to know why?"

Winter's mouth opens but she stays quiet.

"Because girls like you, get a kick from relinquishing control. Once the collar's around your neck, you become mine. Completely. Whatever I say goes, isn't that so? And if you don't, you get a shock."

The silence grows until she begins to nod her head gently. "That's exactly it... I have a taste for the painful stuff. For the hurt and submission."

You loop the collar around Winter's neck. It fits as though it were made for her. Tightly fitted, enough to lightly choke her, enough to make sure the contacts within it touch her skin. You take the remote in hand and fiddle with the dial. A mild charge hums from the wires as they heat, preparing to punish.

"That's an agreeable buzz," she whispers with closed eyes. "Perfect."

"Perfect indeed. Now, Winter, on your knees for me." You barely give her a chance to process the request before you determine she has taken too long, and hit the button on the control. A low crackle emanates as it pumps voltage into her neck. Enough for the contacts to spark a single charge through her. Just a sharp sting of pain for a split second before she cries out. Her knees buckle, sending her to the floor, one hand grabbing at the collar as the other seeks a stable point in the soft black mats covering the room.

"Agh— f—fuck," she swears quietly as she gasps for air. "That hurt. So good." Her breaths are quick, her cheeks slightly flushed, and her eyes are wide with delight.

"Top, off."

With trembling hands, Winter holds the hem of her black top. This time you give her all the time she needs to take it off, but she doesn't. "Shock me, I'm a bad girl."

Without hesitation you bring a bigger jolt through the collar, causing her whole body to quiver. Winter shouts and winces, but the smile on her face as she takes it, and pulls her top over her head, tells you that everything's going to plan.

With her top now on the floor and no bra ever being underneath it, you observe how gorgeous she looks. With her small breasts, tiny frame and mischievous face. You stand in place and look, taking her body in and enjoying it. Her waist is so slim, and when her breath quickens, it accentuates that little curve of her abdomen, even a hint at the grooves on each side of her lower stomach.

"Again," she pleads, with puppy dog eyes that are part-glazed.

"You do have a taste for being hurt," you respond as you turn the voltage dial on the collar a little more. A click of your thumb later, and this time she yells louder. Tears well up in her eyes, but her smile only widens.

"I do," Winter pants out the two syllables like they're the only words she knows. "I do. I do. I do."

She repeats it over and over until you hit it again. Her knuckles go white as her body tightens. Muscles bunching in her back and in her arms and legs. Her lithe body trembling through another delicious jolt.

You reach down and grab her by the neck, fingers catching her just under the shock collar. A strangled gasp bursts from between her lips as her wide and eager eyes stare right at you, wet with lust. You pull her to her feet. There's no resistance, nor do you expect there to be. Once she's on her feet, she rushes her mouth to yours. A desperate, needy kiss. Hungry and moaning into your lips.

You break her away from you by pushing her back, sending her stumbling towards the bed. "Those shorts. Take them off."

The delighted gleam of hunger and sadism in your eye isn't lost on Winter. She quickly shakes her head, hoping to earn herself another round of pain.

"Think you deserve more? Think you've been a good enough girl?" You ask, taking a step closer. "Shorts first, then I'll treat you."

Winter does as she is told and lets her denim shorts fall. And just like her top, there's nothing beneath. An amused smile appears as her eyebrows bounce once, and she says, "Surprise!" in the most cute manner.

"I have to say, Winter, everything about you is a surprise. Such a cute little thing you are, but so devious too. I'd love to take you apart, bit by bit."

"Take me however you'd like," she chimes in.

"Yeah?" You turn away from her naked, helpless body and to the desk, picking up the prod and flick the switch to make it come alive. "With this?"

You turn and present the long silver rod, where at the end of it, two metal prongs protrude. You push the button and an arc of electricity forms between them. Winter's eyes roll back, and her thighs press tightly together. She squeezes her own chest as she whispers, "Please," over and over.

Slowly, you stalk toward Winter, you can almost see the ache radiating from her like she is a bomb ready to explode. Then suddenly, before she has a chance to register what's happening, you stab the prod forward into her left calf. Winter spasms and convulses, her teeth clench and her hands grasp at nothing but air. She wails in painful, tortured delight and falls to one knee.

Her other leg now too.

"Yes," she squeals, "F... Fuck. Thank you."

You grab a fist full of her blonde locks, twisting them tightly between your fingers as you drag back to her feet. "On the bed. Now," you tell her, your voice as ice cold as the lack of emotion on your face.

She whimpers as you pull her hard until she's flat on her back in the centre of the bed. It's about waist height, and you look down at her lithe, naked frame. Strands of blonde hair stick to her cheeks from perspiration and tears of pleasure. Her limbs tremble in aftershocks from the latest barrage of electricity that was shot through her, and her skin glistens.

"Please... Again. Please," she whimpers, a feeble creature now after the latest shock. "I'm so wet." Winter shifts one leg higher, spreading herself, and tilting her hips. With one hand you reach into her, plunging two fingers into her cunt.

"Fuck." She lets out a deep gasp and turns her head to look up at you, lips trembling, wet with her own spit, and asks again for more.

You withdraw your fingers and push the prod against her abdomen. Without hesitation, you make her body buck and her cry cut through the still air of the room. Winter yells and twists, kicking her feet wildly into the air as she twitches in her spot. When you stop she lies flat, panting and gasping and eyes streaming. She buries her own fingers into her cunt now.

"Please do it again, I'm going to cum." Her voice is croaky and scratchy from yelling but still thick with urgency and desire.

Another shock.

Another twitch of muscles.

Another shock.

Another scream, and then finally, Winter throws her head back as her pussy tightens around her own fingers and spasms and writhes as waves of pleasure and pain hit her simultaneously. She cries out incoherent words. Scratches her nails at her own thighs while rubbing her clit through her orgasm. Winter shakes and trembles before you, her mouth hung agape.

She's still cumming and this time you hit the button for the collar around her neck. The brief, sharp flash makes her shake harder. The pitch of her orgasmic scream pitches higher.

"Again," Winter calls.

One last time.

You jolt her again, and Winter reaches a fevered pitch as she shakes with more ecstasy than any one person could take. Her whole body is trembling as one large, unceasing wave of pleasure sweeps through every part of her body. The lewd expressions of overwhelming satisfaction as she slowly comes back down are almost enough for you to fuck her, and right there and then, you are tempted.

You throw the shock prod, now it's time to make the bed do the work. Winter has no fight in her as you take hold of her wrists and then ankles, fastening them one by one in bindings that hold her spread and vulnerable. There's a strap for her upper arm too, and her thighs, and finally across her slutty little waist. You make them all tight, and they're all wired up.

"What—? What are you doing?" Winter questions, turning her neck to take stock of the restraints.

You simply ignore her question and focus on attaching the last restraint, that sits across her upper chest, just below her collar bones. Then you walk across the room and press a large red button. A thrumming of electricity hums through the metal bars. Every contact point on her body warms up and a chorus of muffled cracks and sparks come to life around Winter.

"This is special," Winter mutters to herself, her tone hinting at awe. She struggles against her bonds and they're secure. Tight and secure. Even with that futile exertion, she has no escape and smiles at that realization. "Looks like you have me trapped. Can you really hurt a pretty little idol like me? Can you go as far as I need you to?"

Winter swallows hard as she watches your mouth twist into a malevolent sneer.

You hit the button.

She starts to shake. The moan from her lips is loud and almost primal, the exhale laced with pain and excitement. She moans out loud, thrashing against her shackles, her small body thrusting back and forth as the lowest setting courses through her.

You stand over her, looking down and watching the way her muscles tense and her fingers clench. Her toes curl and the moans grow louder, and more frequent. More desperate, she can barely get a word out but she still pleads for more, the word yes spewing from her lips amidst an unending list of other slurred sounds.

You leave her there for a moment, struggling, while you slide your hand into a thick rubber glove, working it up your arm.

"Please make me cum," Winter pants through an agony of pleasure.

You walk back to her, pressing your hand against her flat stomach. She trembles under your touch, you can feel the way her body vibrates through the glove. Her eyes go wide with fear and excitement.

"Hurry, it's so good!" Winter squirms against the bonds but can't move an inch. You take your time looking between her thighs, at her soft and bare cunt, a shade of pink between two rosy folds. It's so slick as her pussy begins to trickle with her lust.

The thick rubber of the glove goes into her hole and makes Winter yelp like the pathetic submissive slut that she is. You stretch her pretty little pussy so easily, thanks to how creamy it is. She's so messy. At the same time, you raise a thumb to the control and push it up a notch.

An explosion of lightning and a sensation between her legs and another strangled moan of desperation. Her head whips from side to side. "I can't, oh shit," Winter manages to blurt out, her voice reduced to a pathetic squeak.

With your finger hooking into her sensitive spot, and her body stimulated with an electrical current, Winter doesn't have a snowball's chance in hell. You fuck her hard and rough with your hand until your arm begins to ache. You play with the current of the bed and the collar, sending shocks through her when she least expects it. She climaxes before long, her legs pulling taut at the restraints. She cries, "More!" as she loses herself to the pulses of her orgasm.

And as her back arches as best as it can, she floods over your glove with cum and screams for it. Winter's release is incredible, it gushes all over you, but you just don't let up. She's absolutely out of control and has to suffer more. Winter can't escape any part of her restraints as they don't give up shocking her through her orgasm, one after the other.

Her face twists in the most fucked up combination of pain and pleasure. It's an incredible sight.

You're just pounding her tight little cunt. Stretching it as it gushes out all the cum she has to give. Her body struggles against all the different sensations. She just keeps spilling out onto the bed as her body shakes.

It's only when she starts to choke out her moans that you finally twist the dial down to zero. It takes a few seconds to turn it completely off but the damage was done. Winter is heaving for air and when you slowly withdraw the digit buried inside her, pulling the plug on her cum spilling out.

"Wait a second," she breathes out in between pants, "let me just..." Winter stares up at the ceiling as she works on stabilising her breathing. When the world seems to slow back to an acceptable pace, her lips turn up into a joyous little smile. "Shit," Winter winces as her hips buck, the throb in her core making her moan ever so softly. "I think I made a mess."

You lift your wrist and nod as if to agree. "You made a lot of a mess."

Her pale skin has turned flush and warm with a sheen of sweat from exertion. She takes a deep breath, letting the sensation of the electrocution linger. Winter looks radiant, so beautiful that the urge to do all those things you wanted to come bubbling back. But you stay strong, despite how tempting her glistening little body is as her chest rises and falls.

"No regrets though," Winter comments, stretching against the confines of her restraints. "I've never cum like that before in my life."

"It really suits you, being tied down like this, cumming over and over. Are you sure you don't want another round?"

With a slight chuckle, Winter closes her eyes and gives her head a feeble, exhausted shake. "I do, but I can't." She can't even bear to open her eyes, she's spent and in a state, unable to cope with the aftershocks anymore.

"This is more like the woman I expected, shy and frail and overwhelmed. I guess you're just so easily broken."

"How did I do?" She asks in a raspy voice.

"For a first time? Great. Most people don't make it to the bed. And not many people look that good when they're cumming."

Winter lifts her chin a little higher. "I did that well?"

"You did."

[suguann]

an. another ex-husband gojo fic because i'll die with this trope. this ends exactly how you'd expect (if you know me)

Satoru doesn’t take it well when you tell him you have a boyfriend after bumping into him in the grocery store parking lot. At least, you don’t think he does. It’s hard to tell, his expression inscrutable as ever behind his dark sunglasses—the sharp arch of his brow the only indication he’s heard you at all.

“Is that so?” he finally says, and for some reason, it makes you nervous. Has you grasping at straws to make something right that isn’t even wrong yet. Has any thought of this being an easy conversation shattered at your feet.

You clear your throat. “Yeah…he’s nice. You might even like him.” 

No, he wouldn’t—a little voice in the back of your head tells you. Knowing it's because all of the unreadable parts of you are no longer connected to him, but instead to a man you've barely spent two months dating, and that must infuriate him.

He doesn’t ask (not that you expect him to) when you find yourself prattling on about how you met Rin through a friend, how he’s an investment banker and takes you out to his cabin on the weekends, that he’s predictable—stable is what you really mean, but don't say—with an ordinary life who wants kids—

Satoru seems to chew on that last bit of information like he’s suddenly tasted something unpleasant, the line of his brow flat and unimpressed, the slant in his mouth mutinous. He’s uttered all but three words, and so far, this entire conversation leaves you with nothing short of a stomach ache.

“He really is a good person,” you add, just because you have nothing else to say and your penchant for filling awkward, empty spaces.

Then he smiles, and you relax a little. “That’s good. I’m happy for you.”

You smile, too, a soft, sure thing this time that makes his widen.

But if you'd been more level-headed and less flustered about bumping into your ex-husband after several months of silence—since he signed his name beside yours in front of your lawyer—you’d realize how dangerous that smile is.

You’re unsure if it’s too contingent to be considered a coincidence, but he starts showing up in odd places after that all-too-uncomfortable one-sided conversation in the parking lot.

First, it’s at your favorite coffee shop you usually stop at on your way to work. It’s strange because you remember him hating coffee, how he'd always preferred to load it with creamer and sweetener just to get rid of the bitter taste. But you don’t mention it when he offers—no, insists on paying for your coffee and blueberry streusel muffin.

When the total pops up on the register, he doesn’t even blink when he opens his wallet.

Of course, you can't let him pay. There must be something in writing somewhere that says ex-husbands shouldn't pay for their recently divorced ex-wife's coffee.

He shrugs, smiling, after you tell him it’s expensive—has that ever bothered me?—and slides a shiny black card across the counter to the barista.

“You can't show up out of nowhere and start buying me things,” you hiss afterward, slightly flustered by the whole ordeal. The city’s big, but you still worry about one of your friends or colleagues seeing you with Satoru—they may get the wrong idea. “We’re not together anymore.”

"Do I have to message you the next time I want to get you coffee?" he tucks his hands into his coat.

"No, we shouldn't even be getting coffee together."

“Am I not allowed to be nice now that you have a boyfriend?”

“That’s not what I said,” you huff. “And you didn’t even buy yourself anything. How am I supposed to look at it?”

He shrugs, “I decided I didn’t want anything,” and you don't even think he notices that he holds your hand when you go to cross the street.

Habit. You'll write that one off as a habit, but he doesn't let go until you're in front of the tall, shiny doors of your office building.

The second time he shows up unannounced is while you're walking through the quaint park near your apartment, which you know is far from his sleek penthouse on 5th Avenue, the one with a perfect view of the city and the bay—a thirty-minute drive, at least.

“I bought a house out here,” he tells you when you ask. “It’s up on the hill.”

You know which one he’s talking about. You’ve driven past it a few times. It's a cozy brick stone with lots of windows, a white picket fence, and a large backyard, something you’ve always wanted since before you were married. According to a real estate website, his house is a little over a million. 

Interest must be written all over your face because he asks: “You want to see it?”

There are a number of reasons why you shouldn’t say yes, why you should politely decline and finish your last lap along the trail and run to the grocery store afterward to pick up something for dinner and call Rin to let him hear about your day—

“Okay,” you say, hands on your hips. “But make it quick.”

He smiles down at you, eyes crinkling at the corners with something akin to affection. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

You open your mouth to remind him, again, that you’re not together, so he’s not allowed to use pet names, but a large hand on the small of your back to usher you towards the shiny, sleek SUV across the street leaves you with a mouth full of cotton.

He watches you take in the hardwood floors and tall ceilings trimmed with crown molding. When you stop in the massive kitchen to run your fingers over the granite countertops, it almost feels bittersweet walking through the house of your dreams while your ex-husband eyes you questioningly as if he's looking for your approval.

“So? What do you think?”

The smile you give him is genuine. “It’s beautiful.”

Satoru matches your smile with a bigger one, almost blinding. “That’s good, that’s really good.”

You feel like you should ask why he bought a house this big in the first place, but there’s a pebble in your stomach if you think about family photos on the walls with him happy and smiling, his arm around a pretty wife who wears frilly aprons and kisses him on the cheek when he comes home. A future where you don’t exist, yet he’s letting you take a peak into it, anyway.

So you don’t say anything.

You meant to leave an hour ago, but he plied you with dinner— friends can have dinner together, can’t they? —which leads to two glasses of wine and then watching movies together on his very soft couch. If everything didn't feel so fuzzy around the edges, you probably would have noticed the signs sooner, that he’s trying to—

(He presses you into the couch cushions, biting marks into your neck and chest until your breaths come out fast and high-pitched.

“We shouldn’t,” you manage to say, still tipsy and tongue heavy in your mouth from the wine you had. "Toru, I should really go."

He huffs a laugh against your cheek—you note how he still wears the same cologne you bought him all those years ago when everything was so new, and there wasn't a ring on your finger yet—pressing a messy kiss there that makes you squirm. “Doesn’t this remind you of old times, though?”

“B-but I have a boyfriend.”

In retaliation, he sinks his teeth into the tender flesh around the fluttering pulse in your neck, just shy of too rough, though your fingers in his hair pull him into you like you can’t get enough.)

That maybe this means he—

(Satoru bunches the lace of your panties in his fist, shoving them up around your knees, trapping your legs together against your chest. A long, drawn-out groan rumbles in his chest at discovering the creamy mess between your thighs. “Always had such a pretty wet pussy, fuck. Do you get this wet for him, too?”

“Shut up.”

He laughs because he hears what you don’t say: No, you’ve never been this turned on when it’s with Rin. Satoru’s the only one to ever leave you wet and shaky just from a few words.)

It’s an insane thought, but it’s almost like Satoru—

(He holds his hand up to your mouth, telling you to lick before he wraps it around his cock, pressing the tip into the slick seam of your cunt. And you forgot how big he is, just on the side of too much, the bit of effort it takes for him to sink in a little, and then all at once, rending you right down the middle.

You whimper, fingers scrabbling clumsily for one of the throw pillows near your head, needing something to hold on to.

“There you go, pretty girl,” Gojo breathes, hips tight and close, grinding into you so that you can feel how deep he is. “I see she can still take it.”)

No, he wouldn’t—

(He fucks you hard enough to send you skittering up the couch, only to pull you back down again, grinding you on his cock to touch places inside you that he’s only ever managed to reach. You whine into where your face is pressed against the back cushions, biting down to muffle how loud you’re being.

He makes a displeased sound and forces you to look at him again with his fingers digging into your cheeks.

"What if I give you a little baby, huh? We'll be a family together. You, me, and our baby in this big house. Doesn't that sound nice? We'll fill the house with babies," he mutters, bending down to suck a nipple into his mouth, forcing your legs further against your chest.

The angle rubs just right inside you. You make an unintelligible noise at the back of your throat, unable to move or get better friction in this position.

“We did it your way last time, didn’t we, baby?” his little laugh is breathless, kind of mean. “I let you leave with all those silly thoughts in your head; thought you knew what you wanted, but now we’re going to do it my way from now on.”

His words should strike alarm bells, but when he fits his hand between your bodies to strum his thumb against your clit, your mind empties.

"You've always been mine." Words barely audible, he still sounds breathless; wrecked. "It's about time you get that through your head.")

Except you know he would. 

A month later, you’re packing away the fine china in your apartment, wondering how the few things you own will fill a house so large.

[scientia-rex]

Sometimes people tell me I'm a good person. I'm not a good person by nature, or by default. I'm a good person because I've decided that it's important to me to act like one, on a daily basis, forever.

My actual nature is that I want power. I want power and I want my life to be easy and I want other people to be forced to be nice to me even if they hate me. I want other people to have to suck up to me, I want to watch people who I know hate me suffer through the indignity of having to suck up to me. I want to hurt people who hurt me. I want all of these things in the same exact deeply recognizable way that a gorilla or a chimpanzee does. I watch those documentaries and I recognize myself, intimately. The fact that I can behave like a good person in spite of that has taken me a long time and a lot of effort to achieve.

What you feel isn't as important for your "goodness" as what you do. And you get good at what you practice. So practice your skills at being polite, pleasant, kind. Practice gently interrupting negative behaviors--whether that's someone's negative behaviors directed towards themselves, or directed towards someone else. The idea that we have to be inherently without sin is such Christian garbage. It's psychological gibberish. We want things! We want everything! That is normal and human and the key is not acting on every bad feeling you have.

I have taken my insatiable desire for power and to manipulate people and I have used it for good. I have learned how to manipulate people into coming to the doctor and taking their blood pressure medication and being honest about their recreational substance use. I have taken my psychology education and I have used it to craft a persona that makes people feel at ease. I go home at the end of the day exhausted, because maintaining a persona for ten hours straight is exhausting, but I do it happy, because I manipulated the people I work with into feeling better and having brighter days. I manipulated my patients into feeling good about their achievements and recognizing where we need to do things differently.

The hard part is that when the mask slips, people find it not just off-putting but deeply upsetting. When I explain things like "I have thought very carefully about how I would conduct a career in domestic terrorism because I would genuinely like to bomb the headquarters of most American insurance companies, but I don't see a way to do it without getting caught and either killed or spending the rest of my life in prison, and at the moment I consider that an unacceptable outcome," people go from "ha ha! my wacky colleague" to "Jesus Christ, I didn't realize there was something actually wrong with you."

Anyway, don't make your kids read the extended works on Machiavelli at twelve, my dad thought he was helping me but all he accomplished was making me sad I'll never be a king.

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Back To Work | Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader | Drabble - 800 words

Retirement, a new house, a romantic evening planned, Bucky just knew that life was all going too well . Especially when he starts being hounded to return to his superhero life.

Warnings: language, fluff, a little angsty at the end. Featuring domestic thunderbolts Bucky.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @reveriesources

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

“Bucky, are you ready to go baby?” Your voice carried through from the living room as he clicked his arm back into place, shrugging his shoulder to get the fit right. 

You'd been excited all day, buzzing around the new house and opening boxes, trying to unpack at the same time as finding the perfect outfit. Bucky was only half regretting making plans so soon after moving, sure it was stressful trying to dig out his nice shoes from the piles of boxes and bags, but seeing you so happy was completely worth it and knowing you’d be coming home to your house, together, was just the icing on the cake. 

Now the sun was setting and you had turned on the downlighters in the kitchen, void of your usual clutter it looked lonely. 

“Just checking my phone, Doll.” He called back picking the offending item up from the counter - so many missed messages, he sighed.

 He'd been better recently, replying to Sam and catching up with him every week or so. He'd even managed to facetime Steve in his retirement home. He quite enjoyed the easy freedom of digital communication. But today, of all days, it had been pinging non-stop all driving him crazy during the drive and ruining the relaxing and, he hoped, romantic atmosphere he was trying to create. 

“Come on, baby, I don't want to be late.” You strolled into the kitchen and he dropped the phone again to focus his attention on you instead, taking in your dress and heels, your lipstick perfectly done. How could he worry about a stupid phone when you were together. 

“C’mere,” he pulled you close, tucking you under his chin and planting a kiss to the top of your head. 

He smelt lovely, fresh from the shower but with the hint of cut wood from building furniture. His vest revealed the hint of his dog tags, outlined under the fabric, as well as his tanned skin from a summer well spent outside, your traced your fingers over the chain and up his neck. Tangling your fingers in his long hair you tugged him down for a kiss. 

“Love you, Buck.” You whispered against his lips, heat surging through you just at his presence. 

“Love you too.” His lips tickled your cheek, behind your ear, and then he was swinging you up onto the counter. 

“Don't make us late!” 

“If you don't like it, stop giggling.” His fingers tickled up your bare legs, eyes twinkling with desire. 

Ping 

“That fucking phone,” Bucky growled, grabbing it again. More messages, more missed calls. 

“You should see what they want,” wrapping your arms and legs around him as you tugged Bucky closer, every line and curve fitting against him perfectly. He was sun warmed and cuddly, still ridiculously strong, but the hard lines and plains had softened since his retirement and you couldn’t get enough. 

“Fine, for you, then we're going to go and have a nice dinner and I'm leaving this stupid thing here.” He grumbled, chin on top of your head. 

You giggled again, leaving kisses on his chest. Bucky was so attached to that thing you didn't believe it for a second. Until his breathing went funny, heartbeat speeding up beneath your cheek. 

“What is it?”

His eyes had lost their sparkle, looking sad and serious. 

“I might have to rearrange dinner.” 

“What? Why?” You couldn’t see the phone, but his eyes raced across whatever he’d been sent.

“Where did we pack the gear?”

“The what? Oh - uh,it's in the trunk, in the garage but -” 

Bucky slid away, eyes glazed, focussed, intent and you were suddenly so cold without his presence.Your heart sank listening to the movement in the garage on the other side of the wall. 

He emerged ten minutes later, his smart trousers and vest discarded in favour of leather, the dirty t-shirt he'd been wearing while you were unpacking was back and he’d at least grabbed his soft leather jacket for protection. 

You threw yourself into his arms, tears springing to your eyes. “Are you needed?” 

“I think so,” his voice was low, sinking into the headspace required to take on whatever danger was lurking. 

“Come back to me in one piece, okay?” Your voice cracked, arms squeezing him impossibly tight.

“Of course, doll.” He looked at you then, tears welling in his own eyes, his lips so soft against your own. 

“You're my hero, you know that? You don't have to do anything else?” 

He nodded, letting you slide back to the floor, heels clicking on the tile in a sad reminder of your ruined evening. 

“I love you, Bucky.”

“I love you, lock the door behind me, okay? Don’t let anyone, anyone, in.” 

It was your turn to nod, you knew the protocols, the rules that reassured him. 

His bike roared to life, then he was gone, and you were alone in the echo of your home. 

[homestylehughes]

kiss it better

pairing(s): jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: jack's injury takes a toll on his and y/n's relationship, when tensions come to rise. emotions get the best of them and, feelings are hurt and tears fall. but that's nothing a little kissing or more can fix.

warnings: smut 18+ (idk what happened..), lots of angst, emotional reader and jack. cussing, fluff, cuteness, use of pet names and y/n.

wc: 3k

authors note: hi my little loves!! i'm back with another jack fic... no surprise! BUT this is my second back to back upload. look at me. i wrote all of this in one day, BOOM. anyways! this one was a little emotional to write, i'm trying my hand at writing angst, i love angst. i wasn't going to write smut but HEY IT JUST HAPPENED LOL. so hopefully you guys enjoy!! reblog and like if you enjoy <3 as always much love!!

happy reading <3

The devils had a rough year, everyone knew it, with their season ending in a heartbreaking way. 

Jack had an even tougher year, his season being filled with 2 injuries that led his season to end early, so he could undergo shoulder surgery. We all knew this was coming, it was only just a matter of time.

This time it hit Jack harder than the times before, he felt like he let his team, fans, and family down. 

Resting and recovering wasn't something Jack liked to do, he’s always been a go go go person, always doing something, always on the ice. 

 Jim and Ellen went with him to Colorado for his surgery, I stayed back and waited for his arrival back to Jersey. When he arrived back from Colorado from his surgery on Saturday, everything was fine. The first few days had been pretty easy for Jack, sleeping for most of the time. Only getting up to eat, shower, with my help and take his meds. 

He had been home for a week before tensions in our home started to rise. 

I woke up to a loud noise coming from the kitchen I think, rubbing my eyes quickly. As I lifted up out of bed, I turned to Jack's side of the bed, to see that he's not there. 

Quickly slipping on my slippers I make my way down stairs, to see Jack in the kitchen trying to fix himself a bowl of cereal. As I make my way further into the kitchen I see that the milk is spilled all over the counter on the floor, with the bowl also on the floor broken into pieces. 

I hear Jack mumbling words under his breath that I can't quite make out, but I'm assuming none of them were things I wanted to hear. 

Jack spots me before I even open my mouth to speak. “Shit i'm sorry baby, I didn't mean to wake you up,” he says, looking at me. 

“ I just wanted to make myself breakfast, but I can't even do that.” His head hung low as speaks. I could hear the sadness in his voice. 

“Jack it's okay, I promise” I say, making my way towards him. “Let me clean this up, and then I'll make you something, okay?” 

“NO!” Jack says loudly, the raise of his voice catching me off guard. “No, I can clean up my own mess. I made it.” 

Taking a deep breath, trying to choose my words carefully, I can already feel the tension in the room rising. 

“At least let me help,” I said quietly, not wanting to upset him. “I don't need your help y/n.” Jack says aggressively, “you've been helping and taking care of me all week.” he says as he turns to grab a towel to clean up the spilled milk.

I stood there in shock, Jack had never talked to me like that before. Anger and sadness ripe through my body. My head is telling me to fight back, but my heart is telling me not too. 

Im hot on his heels, following behind him, “jack.'' I called out his name, his back turned to me, as he began to clean up the mess. I get no response, “Jack'' I say again but a little bit louder this time, which still doesn't get a reaction from him.

My head is beginning to win, now wanting to fight back. I go to grab the towel out of his hands, throwing it in the sink behind me. Grabbing his hip, to turn him towards me so I can look at him. 

His eyes are locked on the ground, not looking at me. “Jack.” I try again for the third time. “Talk to me, what's going on?” softly saying to him, bringing my hand to his chin to lift his face up, to look at me. 

Jack is quick to rip his face from my hand, “i don't want to talk” he says looking straight at me now. Tears of anger, sadness, frustration swimming around in his eyes. “I'm going to clean up my mess, and you’re not going to help, leave it alone.” he says sternly at me.

My eyes are beginning to fill with tears of my own, not wanting to cry in front of him, not wanting to speak and argue with him to make the situation worse. I nod at him and make my way out of the kitchen, tears falling on my face as soon as I do. 

I just wanted to help him, be there for him, he needs someone right now even if he won't say it. I know this is hard on him, mentally and physically, but that doesn't make his actions okay.

All of these thoughts are running through my head as I make my way to our shared bedroom.  Making my way to the closet, deciding to start getting ready for the day, there's no way I'll be able to sleep after this. 

Tears are still falling on my face, I want to go back down there and say something, help him, talk to him, give him a hug. Do anything that I can for him, but I know he doesnt want that right now, he made that very clear. The situation is already tense enough. 

While getting ready for the day, I decided to give Jack space today. It seems to be what he wants from me right now. The tears have stopped falling for now, but my thoughts and feelings haven't stopped wandering.

I hear Jack enter our room, as I finish up my makeup, my body instantly tenising up, taking a deep breath I make my way out the bathroom. Grabbing my jacket, my back turned to him, there's so many things I want to say to him but I keep them to myself. 

I can feel Jack making his way closer to me, his front facing my back, his hand sliding on my waist. 

“Baby” he quietly says, the sound of his voice making me nervous. Taking a deep breath, I turn to face him, my eyes beginning to water again. Our eyes locked, I can tell he's been crying. I want to reach out to him, but i don't, scared of his reaction. 

Jack's hand is still on my waist, pulling me slightly closer to him. I'm the first to speak, I can't handle the silence anymore. “I'm going to run a few errands, I'll be back in a few hours. Text me if I need anything "I say softly, looking at the ground.

“I want to talk” Jack speaks again, I internally scoff at him, so now you want to talk. 

“I don't want to talk to you right now jack.” I say, making my way towards the bedroom door. Jack followed behind me, “that's a little childish don't you think? walking away, when i'm trying to talk to you” he says a little louder this time.

Anger is flowing through my veins, hot angry sad tears are now falling down my cheeks. “You don't get to speak to me like that.'' I say a wip my body around to face him. “You don't get to decide when we talk, or when I want to talk to you! '' I say with a voice full of venom. “You didn't want to talk 45 minutes ago, when I tried to talk to you. So yes jack, I am walking away. I have things to do. I don't want to be around someone who treats me like shit when I’m trying to be there for them” 

My voice is losing its battle of being strong, my emotions are winning, as my voice begins to trail off. I'm not stopping there, quick to cut off jack as he opens his mouth. 

“Actually, we are going to talk now.” I say, throwing my jacket on the ground. “I am trying my best to be the best I can for you right now. As much as you won't admit it, you need me right now, you're so stubborn that you won't let me. Let me be there for you, let me help you, we are in this together, stop acting like you are doing this alone.” 

“I know this is hard on you in so many ways, I'll never know what you're going through, but let me be there, talk to me. This isn't easy on me either, seeing the person you love the most in pain and you can't help them.” I'm beginning to sob at this point, trying my best to get everything out that I want to say. I'm not sure if I'll have the strength to do it again. 

Taking a few steps, to stand in front of Jack, grabbing his face in my hands, tears also streaming on his face. He leans into my touch this time, instead of pulling away. 

“I love you so much, don't push me away, please.'' I say staring in his eyes, looking for a response. Instead of words, Jack pushes his lips to mine, the kiss surprising me, knocking me off my feet almost. My hands never leave his cheeks, our mouths moving in sync, in a passionate kiss. 

Jack pulled away first, lips swollen, our chests both rising. “I'm so sorry” Jack begins “ I'm so grateful for your help and love during all of this” “this” he gestures to his shoulder which is sitting strapped up in a brace. “This is dragging me down. I hate it. I can't do anything for myself, i feel so bad when i ask for help im scared that I'm annoying you.” he says, “you'll never annoy me, Jack.'' I say while running my finger under his eyes, wiping away the tears. 

“Thank you for being here for me. I do need you, I'll always need you.” he finishes, before I have the chance to speak, jack is reconnecting our lips.

 Walking us back towards the bed, where he sits on the edge, his free arm urging me to sit on his lap. I pull away quickly, “ Jack, I can't. I don't want to hurt you” 

“You wont hurt me baby, what's hurting me is you not being on my lap, kissing me. Now get up here” he says with a smirk, pulling my body down to rest on top of his. 

Once I'm settled safely on his lap, Jack immdentially pulls my face down, to reconnect our lips together. 

Our makeout session is picking up, our hips grinding together, lips moving frantically together, jacks tongue slipping into my mouth, clashing with mine.

We haven't been this close in awhile, I've missed his body, his lips on mine. With another roll of my hips, Jack pulls his lips back groaning, throwing his head back.

Giving me the perfect access to his brace free shoulder, kissing and sucking on exposed skin of his neck. His grip on my waist tightening as our bodies move together. 

“Baby, I need more. Please.” Jack whines out to me, “I need to see you, I want to feel you, please, please” 

I pull back from his neck, his eyes filled with desperation. “Are you sure? I don't think we should, your shoulder, I don't want to hurt you jack.” I can see his heartache when I say those words to him. 

“Baby, I'm okay. I need you so badly, fuck” he says breathlessly as he beings to move our hips together again. I moan, as Jack connects our lips again, his hand sliding under my shirt, urging me to pull it off. In a quick motion I pull it above my head, leaving me in my bra. 

“Off. off. I want it off baby '' Jack says pulling at the straps of my bra. I reach behind me to unclip it, throwing it somewhere behind me. 

Jack is quick to grasp one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking and lightly biting it, the sensation causing me to moan out from above him. “Fuck Jack, yes fuck.” our hips moving at a quicker space, the dampness between my legs growing by the second, I can feel Jacks bulge swell benenth me. 

“Jack.” I moan out as he sucks and licks both of my breasts. “Jack i need more fuck, but i dont want to hurt you.'' I whimper. “I know baby I can feel it” he says in between the kisses his trailing up my neck. An idea pops into my head as his lips are about to meet mine again, I pull away. “move and sit up against the headboard.” I say to him, Jack's eyes widen in surprise. 

I get off of him, and he quickly makes his way to the top of the bed, his back resting against the headboard.

I began to unzip my jeans, pulling them down my legs along with my underwear, leaving me completely bare in front of him. I began to crawl to Jack on the bed. I reached him, grabbing the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down his legs, leaving him bare. 

I take in his state, eyes swimming with lust and love, pupils blown, chest falling, lips swollen. He looks beautiful, brace and all.

Wasting no more time, I sit myself back down on his lap, his cock resting warm and hard against my inner thigh. “Hi” I said to him, “Is that what you wanted? Want me to kiss everything better?” I say, grabbing the base of his cock, lifting up so I can align myself with him.

Without warning I sink down on Jack's cock, the both of us groaning at the same time. I'll never get used to the way Jack feels inside me, the burn between my thighs feels dealicious, I want more. I need more. 

“Fuck baby.” Jack whines out, his free hand grabbing my waist harshly. “I need you to move please.” “like this?” I say as I raise up slightly and slide back down on his cock.

“Yes, like that baby, fuck. More. More.” Jack says as he's looking up at me, so desperate and needy. 

I decide I'll stop tourchoring the both of us, as I lift off of him completely and sink down again. The action causing me to throw my head back in pleasure. “Fuck jack you feel so good” i say as I begin to ride at him at a slow pace. 

“Faster, fuck” jack groans from below me, getting tired of the pace he begins to thrust his hips to mine. 

“Right there jack please”. The angle of this thrusts hits my clit perfectly, causing shock waves to crash through my body. I can feel myself beginning to get tired, needing something to grab on too. 

Grabbing the headboard behind Jack, I lift myself off of him, and sink back down, putting all of my weight into the headboard, to create more leverage. 

The new movement causes my whole body to shutter. glancing below me, Jack's head is leaning back against the headboard, eyes closed, mouth open moaning below me.

As if he can feel me looking at him, he opens his eyes, pushes himself off the head board and takes my left nipple into his mouth, his eyes remain on mine. 

I began to speed up my movements, causing the whole bed to move below us. 

“Fuck right there baby.” Jack moans out to me, his hand moving from my waist to the back of my neck pulling it down to connect our lips. 

Moans spilling out between the both of us, I can feel the coil starting to build in my stomach, as our hips meet. 

“Jack fuck” i moan out i a throw my head back, now resting my hands on his hips. 

“I can feel you clintching around fuck baby.” “im almost there fuck” slamming myself harder down on his cock. 

Jack trailing his hand down the front of my body, stopping where we’re connected, his fingers finding my clit instantly, pinching and rubbing it between his fingers. 

“Oh my god, fuck” I drop my head to jacks neck, still working myself against him.

“Don't stop, don't stop.” I yell out to him, I can feel my legs beginning to shake

“Baby I'm about to cum.” Jack lifts his hand from my clit, forcely grabbing the back of my head, smashing our lips together, teeth and tongues clashing. 

One last snap of our hips, and I'm cumming. My head dropping to Jack's shoulder, incoherent things are falling from both our lips as we chase our highs together.

After a few seconds I gained enough strength to pull myself up. I can feel Jack's hand rubbing up and down my back. 

I sit back enough to fully look at him. Our chests falling quickly, trying to catch our breaths.  “That was the hottest thing I've ever seen.'' Jack says to me, his hand moving to push hair out of my face. “Did so good for me baby” I smile at him, before I'm quickly pulled back into reality when I remember his shoulder.

“Jack. your shoulder” i say frantically, “are you hurt? I knew we should have done this. Oh god "I say as I'm trying to push myself off of him quickly. 

“Hey hey, baby I'm fine.” Jack says as he grabs a hold of my face, his eyes locked with mine. “Hell, I'm more than fine. I'm great, all because of you” he smiles fully at me. 

My nerves settle a little, as I look over at him to make sure he's actually okay. Jack laughs at my concern as his face follows my movements. “Baby i promise i'm okay” he chuckles out to me again.

“Okay sorry, for caring about you.” I sigh dramatically out to him. “Hey now, none of that” he says, pulling my face closer to his again. 

“Come kiss me better.” he whispers out before connecting our lips. 

[bunnys-kisses]

make amends (max's version)

max verstappen & lando norris

cw: smut/pwp, lando's gf!reader, sharing & forgiveness, dirty talk/degradation, slut shaming, language that can be taken as misogynistic, filth, big dick!max, missionary, in this one you fuck max

lando's version

bunny says: i know everything has been amended, but c'mon! c'mon!

lando knew that he fucked up majorly. it was the kind of fuck up that couldn't be overturned with a simple apology. it was the kind of fuck up that he knew that the media was going to have a frenzy over.

even though he stood his ground and thought that this was all max's fault, but deep down he knew that he'd have the give the other driver a peace offering.

that came in the form of his cute girlfriend.

"i need a favour, you know how much max means to me." lando said as he pushed his hand up the skirt of your sundress, "how about we apologize for what we did by letting him fuck you." lando gave you his best puppy-dog eyes.

you didn't notice that he was pinning the incident on the track on both of you, as if he wasn't the one in the driver's seat. that it was something that you had to amend as well. and by doing that, it meant having max between your legs.

lando approached max on media day of silverstone. if he thought convincing you was easy, it was even easier to get max onboard. he told the other driver, "my girl wants to make it up to you. for what happened. it wasn't,... right of me to do that to you . so why don't you meet us at the hotel tonight? blow some steam off, champion." lando winked at the other man and slapped him on the shoulder.

"is she okay with this?"

lando laughed, "she's insatiable. but loyal like a good puppy." he seemed a little smug, "she was actually quite happy at the chance to help. she hates when we all fight. you know what she's like."

max raised his eyebrows, "give me your room number and i'll let you know when i can come." lando texted him the room number and the thoughts of lando's cute fuck toy girlfriend were on his mind as he went about his day.

in the evening, lando was happy to dress you up for max. in all honesty his second choice was to have you all tied up. he threw a sheer two piece set at you and told you to change.

it barely covered anything and the fabric that did was sheer, you could see your nipples through them! you adjusted the strap in the bathroom mirror and thought about putting your hair up. but you knew by the end of the night you were going to be a total mess so there was zero point.

lando came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. he was shirtless in some stretchy shorts and tube socks. his clothed cock was pressed up against your back.

"no you better be good for our guest tonight." he said as he kissed your neck, "i want you to be a good girl for him. i need him to forgive us for what we did."

you nodded, "i will. i'm always good." you stuck out your bottom lip and lando grazed his hand across your barely clothed pussy. you blushed when he kissed your neck.

he held you in his arms until there was a knock at the door. he smiled and pulled away, he instructed for you to get onto the bed and stay there. you scampered away and got yourself up onto the bed.

you tried to position yourself in a seductive way but ended up sitting at the edge with your bare feet barely touching the floor. you heard lando open the door and exchange conversations with max as they went through the lavish room and into the bedroom portion.

you looked up to them in the doorway.

max's words got caught in his throat as he took in the sight of you. oh, you were just beautiful weren't you? the sight of your beautiful body on display for him. he cleared his throat and turned to lando, "i forgive you." then patted the other driver on the shoulder.

the clothes started to come off, with lando close behind. when you tried to take your lingerie off, max said, "no, i want to take it off. you just sit there and look pretty."

both men were soon undressed and you swallowed. max got you laid out on the bed, his knee between your legs. he could feel the how soaked you were through the panties as he rubbed his knee up against your pussy.

he got bored of it soon and peeled them off of you lower half, followed by the bra. max lazily dragged his fingers across your swollen clit and smirked.

"max, shit." you moaned. you wanted to cover your face but you could feel the tension in your gut. the anticipation of what was to come.

max chuckled and looked to lando who had your head in his lap, his cock pressed up against your cheek. you were basically stuck between these two men. the anticipation of what was to come felt heavy in the air.

"she's got quite the mouth on her. thought you'd train her better, norris."

lando chuckled as tapped his hard cock against your cheek, smearing precum all over the skin, "she's usually behaved. i told her to be good for you, the sake of my career is on the line."

max laughed, "you told her that.' his eyebrows raised he spoke like you weren't even in the room, "it's nothing norris, just a flare up on the track. nothing is at stake. don't like to her, she might end up running away." he continued to push his knee up against your pussy.

you whimpered, your head felt dampened by the lust coursing through your body. the way they spoke about you turned you on. powerful men who used you like a chew toy, to bite up and rut as they so desire.

"she isn't going anywhere, mate." lando held you face to look up at him. those pretty eyes were overcast with darkness as he licked his lips at the sight of you rubbing against max's thigh, "right? you're not gonna whore yourself out to any man... well at least without my permission?"

you shook your head, "i wouldn't lando, i promise!" you could feel max shift and grab you by the hips to level with his cock. you looked to the other man and realized that his size was rather impressive.

"she looks like she's not going to be able to take it." max remarked.

lando laughed and combed his fingers through your hair, "are you gonna chicken out now?"

max looked at you and licked his bottom lip, he rubbed his cock up against your entrance. you were wet, it left a string is slick connecting your pussy to his cock. max knew that the downstairs was impressive, he often made sexual partners a little nervous.

before he could sink in, lando held the silver wrapped of a condom in his face. he looked at it and then looked past it at lando.

"i'm not raising your brat, mate. and i'm not taking chances on plan b." lando handed it over and watched as max quickly opened it and put it on. lando's cock on the other hand was bear against your face, getting precum all over the apple of your cheek and eyebrow. he'd get you pregnant if he wanted, but he wasn't letting a verstappen brat run around.

max jerked his cock with the condom on before he pressed into you. your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he gripped onto your hips. he sank into you and was encouraged by the noises you made.

"you trained her well. she's obedient." max remarked as he touched your face. he then went in for a searing kiss as he started to fuck you. missionary was a little vanilla but he wanted to look at lando's little girlfriend as he fucked the hell out of her.

his thrusts were short and hard, his cock bulled its way into the back of your cunt and had your cheeks feeling heated. your core throbbed as he thrust more and more.

"well, training her was ea-sy!" lando beamed with pride, "turns out she's a hungry little when it comes to cum. she's a little freak like that." he patted your cheek a little harder than it looked.

"mmm, lando." you whimpered as you tried to turn your head. but max grabbed you by the chin to look at him.

"it's my turn, eyes on me. not your boyfriend." max said calmly, his face was red from the heat in his body. he maintained eye contact with you as he pushed his cock in and out of you.

there was a rhythm to it, he was in control. like how he was on the track. it left you feeling hot all over, like the tip of a match. you could feel it from the top of your head to the bottoms of your feet.

you tightened your legs around his waist as he cock nudged against more sensitive areas. it was a heat running through you as you felt your mind start to go blank.

your pussy was painfully slick, your heart was hammering and you felt like you were going to melt from the heat in your core. his cock slammed against you and your breathing was ragged.

"she's a good fuck, eh, max?" lando chuckled as he watched the champion fuck his little girlfriend, "she's got a pussy to die for."

max chuckled, "you rent her out to all your rivals, or am i just special? because i think oscar would love a taste at this."

lando chuckled, "you're acting like we haven't done that already. he fuckin' marked her like he owned her! i own her! pussy and all." he shook his head.

"she is a good fuck, i can see why you'd want to make sure she didn't run off. gotta find me a girl like that."

lando's cock twitched at the compliment, "well not even a championship can guaranteed a good girl like this." he laughed and rubbed your hot face, "one in a million."

max chuckled, "bet you could find her anywhere. tight pussy, cute face." he knew that lando couldn't have the compliment for long, "i bet i could find one with a tighter pussy outside this hotel."

lando narrowed his eyes at the other driver, he could see the sweat at his temples, "right, right. i bet if i gave her in exchange for a win in hungary, you'd take it. you'd be fucking her in your private jet from here to there."

max leaned over you a little more to get closer to lando, as a result his cock got impossibly deep and a whimper left your lips. he smiled at lando, not the media smile he had. a real one, he said to lando, "ah, don't be too cocky, lando. that's what got you in trouble last time." his cock was hitting all your sweet spots.

"fuck, max."

max silenced you with another searing kiss. he hiked your hips further up so he could fuck you as hard as he could with the most leverage he could. his body was screaming to finish, but he didn't want to part from your sweet cunt.

however, climax dawned on you as you clutched onto the dutchman and felt the hit of orgasm shock your system! your toes curled your nails dug into the the other's shoulders. your pussy throbbed as you felt the high of orgasm.

"that's a good girl." lando said, "letting him fuck you." he stroked your face as you gasped for air. you looked at him with an unfocused gaze and he just thought you were adorable.

max continued to fuck you, feeling his own orgasm as well. he swore under his breath and kept rutting against you. your pussy fit him perfectly. with a few heavy thrusts he shoved his entire cock into you and finished in the condom.

"holy fuck." he grumbled as he held onto you for a moment, pulling you into another searing kiss. he grabbed you and rolled you over so your were on top, your thighs on either side of his waist.

you could tell he was still painfully hard.

lando basked in it. who would've known getting max to fuck you would make everything better. he laid beside the both of you in bed and stroked his cock. he said to you, your worried gaze looked back at him, "c'mon, love." he reached over and smacked your bare ass,"we have all night."

[a-spes]

| DEVIOUS LIES — Part one (3.842 words).

| Summary — Anon Request — When your friend asked you out for a drink, you didn't think much about it. Yet, maybe you should've, because that night ruined your life. It has been two years, and you can't stop think about what you lost. Your job, your friends, your lover, and even your mind was left in that motel room.

| Tags & warnings — Avenger!Natasha Romanoff x Avenger!Reader, AoS!OC x Avenger!Reader, Other Avengers, angst without comfort, cheating, mental health issues, suicidal ideations, self depreciation.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three.

“I am really not sure we should do that, Stark”, you repeated for what may be the tenth time since you picked up the phone, “it sounds like a really, really, bad idea, and you know, I am not sure sh~”

“Come on!” he said, cutting short your ramblings.

Your thoughts are racing, your mind imagining all the things that could go wrong. It is an endless series of “what ifs” that is only stopped by Tony’s voice. You both knew that if he lets you think too much, he would lose his battle. It’s a risky plan he wants to drag you in. 

“I am sure you are dying to say yes,” he added when you didn’t answer him, and you could hear his petty smile through the phone. As he sensed that you were about to accept, the man tried to convince you with one last argument, “she won’t know anything, I promise. None of them will, I thought about everything,” he assured you, and you believed him.

He was right, you wanted to say yes, but you couldn’t get yourself to say the word aloud. There are too many ways for it to end badly, and you really don’t need to make your situation worse than it already is. Two years ago, you lost everything. None of your teammates tried to understand your situation, they didn’t give you a chance to explain what happened. Instead, they threw you away from the team, and the tower, without giving it a second thought, as if you were just garbage.

Maybe that’s what you are.

Sometimes, when you think about the events, you surprise yourself by siding with them. It’s easier to think that you deserve what they are doing to you than to accept the injustice of the situation, which you can’t do anything about. After all, the proof was against you. You’ve seen the pictures, everyone has seen them, and they felt so real that your certainties have faltered. How to convince them that you are innocent when you are not even sure yourself? Eventually, you gave in, it is a battle you couldn’t win.

“When is it, already?” you sighed, eventually giving in. An argument against Tony Stark was another battle you knew you couldn’t win.

The man has been the only exception. He has watched over you from afar, and believed your version of the events. For once, he has listened, and it means the world to you. So even if you try to not wince at the enthusiasm he lets out on the other end of the phone, a part of you is happy. It doesn’t matter if things don't go well, at least that would have pleased the billionaire, and you owe it to him, even if you couldn’t match his enthusiasm, too anxious for that.

For a second, you thought about changing your mind. Your fingers were a centimeter away from the interphone, but you haven’t rung the bell yet. It would be so easy to listen to your instinct that is screaming at you to run away. It would be so easy to break the promise you’ve made to Tony, he wouldn’t mind right? Yes, despite the disappointment, he would understand that you couldn’t do that. It was too early and too much. You shouldn’t even have taken that call, it is always a bad idea to trust a billionaire, especially when his last name is Stark.

The last time you’ve set foot in the Avengers Tower, it has been two years ago. You haven’t seen them since, only their pictures in the news. One time, you’ve thought about going to one of those press conferences they hold sometimes, but you knew you wouldn’t be welcome — Maybe they even added your name to the list of bans. You aren’t welcome anywhere near them, they made it clear when they threw you away.

It is as if all the years spent by their side have been erased. Even the world seems to have forgotten your name. It is almost as if you have never been a part of the Avengers, as if you’ve never existed, and it was just something you mind made.

Maybe it’s for the best, you thought.

Yet, here you are. In front of the building you left years ago, promising to yourself that you’ll never come back in here. That day, you felt so humiliated that you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t add the shame to crawl back at their feet, begging for their forgiveness. No, no matter how bad you were craving to throw yourself in their arms, you won’t. Never, ever. Except that, sometimes, circumstances change, and you find yourself unable to refuse your friend’s crazy invitation, despite the dangerousness of his plan.

“Pl- please, ‘tasha, let me ex~,” you were begging the woman. It wasn’t your kind but exceptional situations call for exceptional reactions, and the one you found yourself in certainly was. 

Tears aren’t your style either, nor it’s Natasha’s. Yet, both of your cheeks are stained with them, your eyes reddened. She is angry, and you are frustrated. She is full of hatred, and you are full of despair. But, today, something broke in both your hearts.

“Shut up,” she said firmly, not giving you a chance to explain yourself. She didn’t want to hear a word from your bullshit. None of them want to. “You’ve lost the right to call me that way,” she added, spitting every one of those hate-filled words in your face, “honestly, you’ve even lost the right to talk to me. I don’t want to hear your voice or to see your face ever again. Did I make myself clear?” she yelled. You would have never thought that she could speak to you in such an angry, hateful tone, and yet, here you are.

She has, indeed, made her intentions clear. When you came home, you found your clothes scattered on the pavement in front of the tower. She hasn’t waited for your explanations before deciding to throw all your belongings away. You were quick to follow them, you barely stepped into the building that she was here to drag you out of the building.

You have never seen your loved one in such a state. She isn’t even acknowledging your pleas for her to slow down, or at least to loosen her grip on your arm. But she doesn’t care. She doesn’t care anymore if you were hurt, or if you were stumbling on your feet — If she had to drag you out by the hair, she would do it without hesitating. 

The Natasha that was scared she could hurt you was long gone. She wasn’t the one that swore to protect you anymore, you’ve seen in her gaze that the promises she made no longer stand. She has a stern, harsh expression painted on her face, and it was your fault. She hadn’t hit you, not yet, but you could still feel how her nails are digging into your skin, leaving a mark that will stay for days. It is a reminder of what you’ve lost that day, not that you could forget.

A second later, you collide with concrete. She throws you on the ground, alongside your belongings, with all the strength she has — And she is a former russian spy, so she’s got plenty. The force of the gesture causes you to stumble over your own feet and fall, scraping your hands and knees in the process. You don’t even try to get up. Dejected, you remain on the ground, barely daring to turn around to see her one last time.

“Don’t you dare to come back, you are not welcome here anymore,” she said before walking away, and disappearing behind the doors of the tower. You wanted to say something but the words didn’t come out, nothing you could say felt right.

It is the last time you’ve seen her, and as pitiful as it is, you have long cherished this last contact with the redhead. No matter how violent and hateful it has been, it was still the last time you’ve touched the love of your life, and you missed it the moment she let go of your arm. Her, and her touch. Despite everything, despite the years, you still needed her presence by your side, and it doesn’t matter if your relationship has to be brutal, you are ready to accept anything if it means being close to her for a few more days.

The rest of the team stayed here until you left. Your eyes met theirs, pleading them to at least say something, but you didn’t get the help you were looking for, their hatred toward you matching Natasha’s. Clint, Steve and Sam, they are all people that you thought were your friends, except they didn’t hesitate a second before siding with the redhead.

Steve has been the first one to leave, almost running after the woman. Before they disappear in the elevator, you’ve caught his hand resting on her shoulder. You should be the one to touch her like that, the one to hold and comfort her, but this right has been taken from you, and maybe you deserve it. You broke the trust she put in you, one that she doesn’t grant easily.

You’ve always known it was a bad idea. In fact, since the moment he suggested that you should come to Natasha’s birthday, you’ve had a bad feeling about it. He thought that it would help you, knowing that you had been living in isolation since you’ve left the team, and a part of you believed him. The same part that never stopped hoping that things could go back to the way they were. 

Until today.

If there is something you’ve learned from that experience, it’s that things will never be as they were because it’s nothing more than a pipe dream. The past two years, you have continuously dreamed about that moment, when you would eventually see her again. You’ve even made up a whole apology speech, one that would erase all your mistakes, and if it’s not enough, then maybe you would have begged them until they forgive you — Promises be damned. In any case, it would have ended with a hug with Natasha, a happy reunion after all those years spent apart. 

Except that none of that happened, because reality isn’t fiction, and you don’t deserve a happy ending. To be fair, you could have never imagined that the reunion would go like this, that you wouldn’t even be able to exchange a word with them because they had no idea that you were here. You couldn’t have imagined that the barriers you have built over the last few years would crumble the moment you set foot in the tower that once was your home.

The tears were streaming down your face, hidden behind that ridiculous mascot costume Tony had forced you to wear. He assured you that it was all part of his plan, the one that’s supposed to make everything better, but honestly, you’ve never felt so ridiculous and pitiful than when you put on that costume that’s supposed to look like a cartoon version of Natasha. That is the genius idea Tony’s came up with a few weeks ago ; having you wear a suit so that you could attend Natasha’s birthday party without anyone knowing.

You thought that you were strong enough to face them, but it turned out that you weren’t. There is nothing that hurts more than realizing you are nothing more than a stranger in your own house. An intruder, that’s exactly what you are. You should enjoy the moment, but you can’t, your heart races, fearing they could guess you’re the one behind the costume.

You were watching them from the corner of the terrace where you found refuge after giving them a little show, and you noticed that all of them, without exception, had a bright smile on their faces. You should be glad that they overcame the difficulties of life, right?

Then why is the only thing you are feeling agonizing jealousy?

Because you were slowly realizing that things changed after you left them, and maybe it was for the best. That’s what you’ve heard them saying in an interview they held a few months after your departure — “Yes, the team has undergone some changements, and we believe it’s for the best” — and maybe they were right, because you don’t remember seeing them being so peaceful in the past. They never clearly said that you’ve been banned from the team, nor they talked publicly about the events that lead to your departure, but people weren’t stupid, they guessed that it was because of something you did.

All days are the same since.

You wake up early, but it’s not the sign of a healthy life, only of a light sleep that is disturbed by the slightest noise and glint of sunlight. The thought of a new day only makes you sigh, what’s the point when every day is the same? They are all filled with loneliness and misery, and you are not sure you have the strength to deal with that, so you don’t move an inch, waiting for the night to come again. 

Sometimes, you get out of the bed you’ve been rotting in, but it’s not before you are so hungry that your whole body is uncontrollably shaking. That's the only time you leave the darkness of your flat, when you go to that small shop at the end of the street to get something to eat. You would buy anything and everything here, but especially junk food that can be eaten quickly. Most of the time, it’s PastaBox or anything with chocolate,  the papers piling up in the kitchen as the days go by, but you’ve never had the heart to take down the overflowing bin.

Waking up, rotting in bed, eating a bit if you are really hungry, going back to rot in your bed, then crying until Morpheus comes to get you, that’s now what your days are.

It’s a strange situation. You have mourned people before, but never someone who’s still alive, never your whole life, never yourself. You are still alive. You know it because you are still breathing and your heart is beating, but it feels like you are not anymore. You don’t even want to cry anymore, you are just laying here, waiting for something to happen, anything. Maybe death. Maybe it’ll eventually come for you, and that moment will be the sweetest. It would be a relief, and not only for yourself.

You don’t want to think about the fact that it may not be. What would be the point in suffering if it’s not to get a threat at the end? The possibility that nothing will come after that life feels unfair, and scary. When you are not finding comfort in your death, you are looking for it by imagining a universe where your life with Natasha wouldn’t have ended that way, where none of that happened.

These are the thoughts that lull you to sleep every night, but the next day, when you wake up, the ache in your heart is back. It never seems to fade away, the pain being as strong as it was on the first day. If anything, it got worse. You are aware that every day that passes takes you further away from those ideals, dashing your hopes of getting your old life back. Your despair grew as you realized that all you were doing was pulling away from the love of your life, and there was nothing you could do to get her back. 

What is going to happen when you’re going to forget about how it feels being close to her?

What if you forget everything? Her voice, smile, and the smell of her clothes? 

The few times you are getting out of your apartment, you are walking with your head down, hiding behind the hood of your sweatshirt, and today isn’t an exception. The weather isn’t that cold, but the collar of your sweatshirt is still up to your chin, leaving only your eyes for the world to see. The ones that are fixed to your feet, avoiding to look around.

You used to do that to avoid paparazzi and insistent fans the days you were too tired to interact with the world, but you are now doing it to avoid problems. Your face and name have been all over the news after, and not for good reasons. People had no idea what had really happened, but their imaginations had no trouble imagining the worst and spreading rumors. It has been years, but the world still hasn't forgiven you for things you’ve never done.

In a few days, the way people see you changed drastically. You went from being one of the country’s greatest heroes to being canceled. The smiles turned into hateful looks, compliments into insults, and although no one has tried to hit you, you prefer to keep a low profile. The fall has been painful, but it isn’t surprising.

How could you expect strangers to believe you when even your oldest friends didn’t?

You have never been their favorite anyway, and you are perfectly aware of that. You are not a former spy, nor are you a genius or an enhanced human. You have nothing special, and the world knows your name only because of your teammates. It’s not a big surprise that they prefer them, and decided to side with the real Avengers.

But maybe they’re right. Maybe things are better that way, because you are not sure you deserve being loved. What you’ve tried to say to ‘tasha is true, you can’t remember what happened that night — At least, not the details that matters —, and that is the worst in your situation. The doubt creeping inside of you, and the guilt mixed with the frustration because you're as likely to be innocent as guilty.

Did you do it?

Did you cheat on her for real?

You are walking as fast as you can, only wanting to get home as quickly as possible, shaking your head in an attempt to get rid of those poisonous thoughts. You didn’t stay long at the party, barely half an hour has elapsed before you decided that you had enough. At least you’ve seen her blowing the candles, even if you left without saying a word to the woman. The thought crossed your mind for a second before you decided it was safer not to break the peace she had built up.

She deserves to be happy, even if it means that you are not a part of her life anymore. 

The only trace of your passage that you have left is a black box. You have hesitated to leave it on the pile of gifts, as she would know it was from you, but it didn’t feel right to keep for yourself the gift you were supposed to give her two years ago. It isn’t yours. You wished you could have stayed longer, just to see her reaction when she opens the box, just to see her smile one last time, to make her smile one last time before saying goodbye forever.

That night, you’ve been crying uncontrollably, and so did you the following days until you have no more tears to shed. Gladly, thanks to Fury, you have a bed to spend your days in. The man has been kind enough to pay for your rent until things get back to normal — That’s the promise he has made to you, that he will quickly find a solution. 

A new place for you to work at, in another country, far from everything you’ve known, where you weren’t hated by everyone: that’s the solution he came up with. “The furthest you are from the Avengers, the better it is. At least for a few months, we need things to calm down,” he told you that day, and you agreed. Not that you had a choice because if you had, maybe you would’ve said no. But there was no choice but to accept to leave everything you’ve ever known behind you — Your family, your friends, your memories. 

Did you for real?

That story is sticking to your skin, and the memories to your mind. Whenever you are going, people are glancing at you, and you are sure it’s because they know. Whenever you are going, all you can see is a glimpse of your past, ghosts that are haunting your present. The world will never forget, nor forgive your mistakes, and you understand them, because you don’t think you can either.

Every morning, when you wake up, it is the first thing you are thinking about. Every night, when you are about to sleep, it is the last one, until it becomes an obsession. Except it didn’t give you your memories back. The opposite has even happened, your mind confusing what you remember with what you've been told, trying to fill the gaps.

At one point, you were so desperate that you almost asked Fury, or Tony, if they didn’t have some technology that could help you to recover your memories. You’ve even thought about asking Wanda, but it was impossible to reach the woman, and maybe it’s for the best. You can’t deny that a part of you is scared of what you might find. You’ve once read that, sometimes, the brain keeps some memories away for a good reason — It is a response to trauma.

But for you, you were sure it was alcohol. You don’t remember how many drinks you had that night, but probably a lot if you can’t remember how the evening ended. The last thing you remember is talking with Astrid, one of your colleagues from SHIELD that invited you for a drink. The next time you remember is when you wake up in that motel. From the moment you opened your eyes, everything happened so fast.

You couldn’t take your eyes out of the pictures which were hung up all over the offices, you even kept some of those. But they are the worst. The thing you can see on those, the two of you in that stupid bed, her kissing your throat, and even more, it feels so foreign. Your brain refuses to accept that you are the one in the pictures. Yet, it's undeniable proof of what you've done that night. 

You are so lost that it hurts your brain. 

Sometimes, you wish that someone was here. Anyone that would take your hand, and guide you through this story. Most of the time, you imagine that it’s her, Natasha. That she is here, holding you in her arms, whispering in your ears that everything is going to be okay, exactly as she used to do. 

Then, you realize that she is not here, and everything crumbles again. 

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three.

| Taglist — @m0nsterqzzz, @marvelwomenarehot0

[jolalibrary]

1. butterscotch orange

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter one of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.3k chapter warnings: [see masterlist for series warnings] meet cute, flirting. fluff. flirting in person and over <redacted>. frankie being a single!dad to a son. coffee date. an: it is finally here! this little thing has rotted me from the inside out and nothing brings me more joy than a romcom. so here we go. buckle in. all hail @secretelephanttattoo for the wondrous idea and support (seriously thank you, i know you know ily, but i don't think I've been this happy writing something in so long). a thank you to @thetriumphantpanda who i forced to read this when we had our sleepover, ily.

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics [winks]

IF I CAN DO IT, ANYONE CAN DO IT. ALL YOU NEED—

It rings, echoes through your skull.

Has been doing so the whole ride over—your groan doing nothing to dilute it, even as you kill the engine of your car and are welcomed with silence.

There’s an element of regret you feel thrumming in you since discovering that perky voice, her high-pitched excitement becoming the bane of your existence. Forever replaying in your head. Regardless of whether it is actually playing. It remains on a loop in your mind—all light and sweet—grating on you from the amount you’ve had to watch it, just to get to this stage.

Realistically, you know you shouldn’t hate the voice, because it has been helpful—in that effortlessly playful way that’s kind of begun to fuck you off.

But then, you’re not even sure if any voice would fare much better. Because you just don’t feel like it’s just that easy—so possible, all simple and quick to do.

Because DIY apparently isn't that trouble-free for you. The bandaids on your palm, fingers, and forearm are proof of it.

Yet, somehow you’re outside of a hardware store.

One that Google promises will have all you need and more. Not that you know what that is.

The only thing you do know is that it at least gives you another reason to focus on something other than the mountain of boxes that never end. The ones not unpacked. In the home that’s now only slowly beginning to feel more like yours, and not the people you purchased it from.

Eyes flicking over the front of the store, the clutter of things all left outside—in judging various shades of buckets and plastic garden chairs—before your eyes land on the door to Harold’s Hardware.

There’s no breeze, but the door moves ever so slightly. Sitting, slightly ajar, as though once—a long time ago—it fit in the frame perfectly, but now remained warped and unwilling to even try. Then there’s the glass, all smeared and sitting inside (what you assume) would have been a bright-white frame that’s slightly yellowed and has been adorned in scuffs, swinging in its layered overuse.

But, at least it’s visited, you think. Shoving open the door, a bell sounds in some distant corner, ringing, it almost muffled by the voice from the video continuing to play in the space between your ears—a to-do list, a handful of items required, listing themselves on a never-ending loop, the billionth play through since you’d woken up.

It’s so much bigger inside than you banked on. Jaw-ticking to the side, eyes marvelling at the floor-to-ceiling display and the array of things all living and existing under hanging signs that appear worn and peeling.

With each second, more and more of the charm comes to you.

That there’s a radio, crackling away, a song from decades gone by playing with difficulty, as an array of scents swirl, fighting themselves for your attention. But, two stand out, fresh-cut wood and lemon disinfectant. The latter you assume kills dirt but doesn’t make the floor tiles gleam in the way they once did. Scuff marks adorning well-walked paths. But the former, you gravitate more to, wish for it to fill your nose and remain with you long after your visit.

Adjusting the strap of your bag, you glance about again, almost fidgeting your feet in your shoes, before it dawns on you. Slams into you as you flick your gaze from sign to sign—

You haven’t got a clue about where to start.

Listing the things from memory—suddenly distant and difficult to find amongst the dooming overwhelm—as your feet begin moving of their own accord. Choosing an aisle, selecting it—all eeny-meeny-miny-mo.

Because better that, than standing aimless, lost. Watched on some flickering CCTV in the back where you assume the person who works here is.

Dragging your eyes, scanning them up and down, taking in the varying types of paint brushes, different thicknesses, different intentions. Moving from single purchase to grouped, to multi-packs, and landing finally on rollers before you’re turning, heading down an entirely different aisle.

The next isn’t any less overwhelming.

If anything, it’s more, because it’s at least more of what you needed.

Screws, bolts, fixings.

Your brain assessing, attempting to assemble whether a bolt is what you need, a screw or—

“You need a hand?”

It throws you off, the voice.

Cuts through your processing, through the low replays of the video (the ones only in your head) and the cracking radio which has moved into an advert for migraines.

It’s low, a slight gravel that he rids with a clear of his throat as you look over your shoulder, eyes sweeping over the owner of the voice, eventually turning to face him.

And fuck.

He’s broad, dressed in a deep green t-shirt under a tan apron—name badge scratched over, only leaving the lingering marks of a “here to help” and the fading logo you’d seen outside.

You don’t mean to gawk, but yet you do all the same.

Practically swallowing, attempting to whir your brain into gear as you take in the rest of him. The thick loose curls atop his head, the strong nose and the round-brown eyes. His moustache, the wiry facial hair across his chin he slowly begins to scrape at, as he remains waiting for a response.

“Screws.”

“You… you need screws?”

Nodding, you will your brain to work, to function. But, he’s just so—

Lifting his chin, he runs his thumb up and down the underside of his chin, waiting, waiting, until he smiles. “Do you know the kind?”

Think. Think. Fucking think.

And then you do. Somehow able to unspool some thoughts, find sentences. Beginning to explain, in barely-there pauses and animated hand gestures about your move, and your new lease of life, and this video you found and how you felt inspired by it to the point it had led you to order wood cut to size and tools from the internet, but screws, screws and this and that are all that you’d forgotten.

And, he listens. Sliding a hand over the sleeve of his sun-scorched tee as he does. Just nodding on occasion. Thin lines appear along his forehead at certain parts of the story, but nonetheless listening.

“Show me.”

“Show… you?”

Then he smiles. Soft, it slides up in a slow, almost cautious way, but then it’s at his eyes, touching, brushing itself there and sending sparks up into the darker brown flecks.

Licking his lips, he gestures, “The video.”

You do.

A quick shuffle in your pocket, a slide to unlock your phone and then your fingers are brushing his. They’re warm, his. That you can tell.

Heat radiating from them, slowly blanketing yours as his hand and yours cradle the phone like a newborn in an announcement photo.

From there, your chest tightens, more so when you meet his eyes, finding them watching you as intently as you wish to look at him, and it makes your heart stammer, skip—a full chaos of beats following before he’s holding your phone independently.

That’s when a new crisis calls. A new thought is all set to erode your mind.

Because your phone looks tiny in his hand.

The plastic case is almost dwarfed by him as he tips his chin, watching the video, occasionally tapping at the screen to skip ahead before he nods to himself, you all but busy trying not to choke on your own drool.

“I know what you need.”

“You do?”

A foolish question, all escaping without thought or rationale.

He just smiles, in a way that seems to settle your incoming anxiousness.

“I do.”

And he does.

A tilt of his head, his back turned to you, a brief thought crossing your brain at the sight but you quickly rid, and you’re following. Listening as he explains, as he points out things with his long, thick finger, as you nod, as though nothing lives in the space between both of your ears.

It isn’t until you’re back in your car that it hits you. Do you suddenly wish as your engine ignites and your car roars to life, that you had asked for his number—or better yet, his name.

It’s been days, and you’re still wondering if some part of you’d concocted him, made him up—thrown up an illusion of a man and exaggerated how good he looked.

The more you thought about him, the more insane it got. Even hearing yourself explain it to a friend made you question if you'd been dreaming. That maybe you’d let days mould him, shaping perfection in your consciousness.

It has more weight when you walk past the older man at the till, all white hair in a slick-back style and who tips his head and looks more what you’d expect from the decor of the place.

But a part, one fighting, scrapping for a moment to exist, still believes. Hopes.

Forcing your legs to wander down aisles you don’t need, pausing at each corner, desiring to be proven wrong. Hovering, hoping—half-wondering if it was essential that to make him appear, you had to look lost and hopeless—or whether that had just been a coincidence that first time.

With each up and down, you almost give up. Hope almost gone, erasing itself with each step, all but fading.

But there, in the centre of the paint aisle, speckled in dried flecks, it clinging in varying shades—a kaleidoscope dream on his jeans and worn t-shirt—is him. The man you haven't stopped thinking about.

"It's you."

"It's me," you grin, heat flooding your cheeks, growing up into your neck.

Arm lifting, hand brushing the back of his curls not housed in a cap, as he matches your grin. "New project?"

"Something like that."

His gaze doesn't waver, doesn't lessen, not as his grin slopes into a shy smile, before he wipes his hand on his jeans, offering it out. "Realised... I never... I'm Frankie, by the way."

You hand him your name, dropping an octave as you do—all unmeaning, entirely accidental—fingers sliding past his as you shake his hand.

“I don’t… you’ve not got your apron on.”

Glancing down, you find him grinning when he looks up, “Not my day today. Here on personal business.”

“Oh is…” squinting at the paint can in his hand, “Butterscotch Orange on a hit list or something?”

His lips slide into his cheek, a tooth-filled smirk. “Should be, it’s a right bitc—pain in the ass to sell.”

Rolling your lips, you trace your tongue across your teeth as you grin. “It’s no…” eyes squinting. “Mt Rainier Grey.”

His brow arches. “That your shade of choice?”

“I like it—don’t hate the orange though. So, maybe it’s not the paint, but the seller.”

Something twinkles in his eye, lips still cocked to one side, smirk still ever-present.

And it’s a challenge to drag your eyes to look at the floor, you shift your weight. Trying, and failing, to think of an excuse, to leave before it gets weird—before you become too much and ruin this nondescript thing. But, his throat clearing stops you. It forces your chin up. Barely just able to catch it, the whisper, how it’s almost said to the can in his hand than to you.

“You… doing anything right now?”

Shaking your head slowly, you bite your cheek as you grin. “Just talking to a man holding a paint can.”

Tapping his fingers along the top, lips rolling, “You fancy getting a coffee? With me?”

You have to bite your smile, out of fear you’ll show how practically beaming you are. Mouth opening, but he adds an addition of I don’t usually do this that makes your lips curl into a smirk.

“What? Invite random customers for coffee or accost them with paint you can’t sell?”

Biting his upper lip, he shakes his head, tucking a curl behind his ear as your eyes glance over at them. How they glisten under the yellow-fluorescent light.

Letting your heart dance like leaves in the wind. “I’d love to get coffee with you, Frankie.”

It’s nice, the coffee place.

Not a far walk, a few doors down. The charm of it coaxes you in with sounds of crunching beans and strong scents of varying levels of caffeine sliding over and relaxing your shoulders from your ears.

Because suddenly you’re nervous.

A slight shake to your bones, a twitch of your fingers.

“Let me get this.”

Smiling, you find him watching you, not caring to drag his eyes away when you catch him.

“Because you never do this or because you’re hoping to persuade me to buy your unsellable paint?”

Smirking, he traces his eyes over you, “Both.”

The corner of his mouth slides back into his cheek, a dimple appearing, deepening—one you want to brush over with your thumb the longer he keeps looking at you the way he does.

All dark eyes, beedy, but sparkling.

'Who's next?' breaks the spell. Shatters the magic. It forces you both to blink, to focus on the task at hand. Both orders said, whirring and crunching sounding as you admire the place, glaze over the menu until he’s nudging you.

With your order in hand and tucked away in the corner—the large window letting in light and warmth from the sun on your back—you try not to moan at the taste of your drink once it hits your tongue.

Because it’s good. Brilliant, practically everything.

To the point you have to bite back a thank you, one that you feel would be never-ending, a constant swirl of words landing on the circular table between the two of you. Nothing napkins and good conversation could soak up.

Because good coffee is always great, but knowing where to find it in an unknown place is something else.

Distantly, you hear him say your name, chin dipped, eyes focused, realising—in a flood of embarrassment—he’s been talking to you.

“Sorry?”

“I said, I’ve not seen you in the store before…”

Swallowing, you take a steadying breath.

“You don’t have to…”

But, you do all the same. You pour open small bits of truth, words falling, tumbling half-strung together as your history rolls out in a timeline in front of you both. How you’d bought a new place, that it’s a bit run down, seen better days—a determination to prove friends wrong by doing it yourself.

Foolish, you comment with a shake of your head, I know fuck all about decorating.

And he listens—to the fact you’re alone, not even a pet; he listens even as you talk about your work, all boring, not entirely interesting. The two of you simply lost in one another, surrounded by coffee mug swirls and the sounds of sizzling food, coffee shop noises and mumbling daytime talk as you ask him about work, about his love for orange shades.

And your eyes glance down at his phone, how it’s turned over—his all undivided attention given to you—yet your eyes linger on the phone case. The one with a drawing, likely in pencil, a man in a hat on a hill, a child next to him and a sun with a smile on its face.

“I… I have a kid. Luca—shared custody,” he says, nodding, tongue peeking out between his teeth, hands leaving the table and wiping back on his jeans in slow slides up and down. “He… he made it me.”

It’s the grin that makes your heart swell.

Makes your hand cup your mug a little tighter so you don’t offer it out to him to hold, a thing which feels so natural, no thought required. Except you don’t know his last name—barely know a thing about him.

Yet, your body practically leans forward as you mirror the smile—all soft, as another piece of a missing puzzle sliding into place.

“Does he like drawing?”

Laughing, his palm slides along his jaw. “Loves it.”

“How old?”

“Five—does that… does that bother you?”

“That you’re a dad?” He nods, and you lick your lips, you make sure to hold his gaze. “Not in the slightest.”

You smile, watching him mirror you this time. It rushes out, kissing across every bit of his face—a shyness soon fluttering over him before he clears his throat.

“So, you freelance? You like being your own boss?”

“Not especially, but it does mean I can work at night.”

Nodding, he slides his hand around the white porcelain, hand practically dwarfing the mug. It makes you want to ask him to hold things, to see if IKEA pencils or children’s eating utensils look more ridiculous than your iPhone and a regular coffee mug.

“Prefer the night?”

“I prefer the quiet of it... to think. It’s why… why I began trying to do something in the day, needed to still be busy.”

“Sitting still not an option, Rainier Grey?”

Shrugging, you smile. “Says you Butterscotch and your three tins of unsellable paint in the bed of your truck.”

“You got me there.”

“I just… like to be busy, and with the new house, no partner—commitments, I thought why not try a bit of DIY.”

Nodding, he lifts his mug, and takes a sip—eyes remaining fixed on you as he does, as though it buys him time, lets him think up an opinion, an assessment. It makes your skin warm, but for all the uncomfortable reasons, the panicking ones—parts of you beginning to catastrophise that you’ve said the wrong thing.

“Open up your Instagram.”

You stare, blinking.

“Trust me.”

And you do. With another fumble, another slide of your phone screen open, and you follow his instructions as you type in the spelling he gives you. When you click the page, it’s hard not to grin, to not have your face explode into a smile so large it cuts into your cheeks.

“I don’t like to sit still either,” Frankie adds, as though the thousand photos and videos, the tutorials and follower count don’t say that on their own.

You’ve fallen down a hole—willingly.

It cracked open the moment you’d sat on your couch, drink in hand, blanket half over your body.

The moment you’d begun your scroll, you discovered you couldn’t stop. Starting with the latest and moving back, until you realise you’d rather see the story in the way it happened.

Choosing a moment, almost nine months ago, before you work your way forward to the present.

You were cautious, more careful than needed, to not like anything too late—to not give away how deep into his page you’d gone. Even if you were in awe, a little proud—your cheeks a little warm and lips turned up into your cheek—as you saw in real-time his confidence grow. The way he’d look at the camera, began experimenting with angles, all in all being smoother, more happy.

You suppose that’s why you type a comment under one picture:

Is that butterscotch orange in the flesh? 🟠

Stalking me are you?

Getting some tips from Mr DIY himself.

I know you went back some months, Rainy.

How do you know that?

Because as soon as you commented that’s what I did. You looked nice at the beach.

Now who’s the stalker, Butterscotch.

Me. Clearly. I’m being very upfront about it.

Out of interest, do you tutor at all? Give hands on help to beginner DIYers?

You genuinely asking or flirting?

Big-headed much?

I can help you with something if you need it.

I think I do.

Then I’m yours. Don’t worry, I promise to only snoop in your drawers when left alone.

Think we should get food first, show you what I’m thinking—make sure you’re up to the task.

You asking me on a date?

No. But if you keep showing off tools topless I’ll be tempted to ask you.

Knew you’d gone back further than a month.

FRANKIE’S INSTAGRAM 🌝

NEXT CHAPTER

an: you do not understand how giddy i am about this series. the chapters have flown out of me. i hope you enjoy it half as much as i'm enjoying writing it. see you soon xx

[lcriedlastnight]

Accidentally saying I love you with Lando

tysm for your request anon, i appreciate it so much! p.s lando deserved that win today. max verstappen i am inside your walls.

tw: fem!reader, short and sweet, swears, lmk if there's anything you want me to add.

w/c: 1k

you and were a newer thing. you weren't new new, but new enough that you have not said those three little words to each other yet. you knew you loved lando since the third date, when even though he didn't like seafood, literally couldn't even stand being near the stuff, he took you to a sushi restaurant because you had never tried sushi and you wanted to give it a go. turns out you didn't like it either.

there had been a few times where you had almost let the words slip out your mouth but you had managed to bite your tongue at the last second. you would tell him when you were ready and when the time felt right.

lando was currently in spain for the spanish grand prix and this one was difficult. it was only the first race out of the three in the triple header and yet here you were, laying in yours and lando's shared bed, on facetime to him, close to tears. just seeing his face made you miss him more.

"come on honey, don't cry. don't do this to me. i don't want to watch you cry." lando frowns from his own hotel bed, the sheets too white compared to his usual ones. the bed too empty without you. you were usually really good with the distance but this was your first triple header with lando. there were double headers but even with those you made it to the last race so it was even less time. this time around you can't even go to one.

you sniffle as you try to stop your tears. you wipe your eyes with the sleeves of lando's jumper. "i know. i'm sorry. it's not your fault. i just miss you a lot tonight, lan." you express.

you can see lando nodding along with your words as you speak, you know it's not easy on him either. you sigh.

"okay. sorry. we can talk about something else now." you try your best to shake off the sadness. you can always cry when lando hangs up the phone.

"don't apologise, my sweet girl. i know it's hard, i'll try speak to you as much as i can. and i know i'll be busy but i'm back in monaco for the next three tuesdays." lando tried to find a positive in all of this. it was difficult.

you nod, with a hum taking his word into account. "not gonna let go of you for the full night on the tuesdays." you insist with such determination it makes lando's heart melt.

"is that a threat or a promise?" he asks, cheekily. that stupid smirk on his face as he tries his best to make you laugh. it works, not because it's funny but because his smirk always made you laugh.

"promise." you say through giggles. lando laughs along with you until he checks the time on the top of his phone. he sighs as it reads two am.

"m' gonna have to go now, honey. it's gettin' a little late." lando frowns like the words actually hurt him physically to say. you frown too but you understand so you don't put up any fight.

"g'night lan. speak to you tomorrow. i'm not working so call whenever you can i'll keep my day free for you." you bid him goodnight and send him a kiss through the phone screen. lando smiles at your cute gesture.

"night, honey. i'll call you whenever i can. i love you." it is quick but you catch it. lando blows you a kiss then ends the call. you didn't get a chance to say anything back. you don't think he even realises he said it. well he will now he's laying thinking about it. you think to yourself as you settle down on lando's side of the bed and fall asleep.

it's not until he returns home that it's spoken about. you are happy he loves you too and you are even happier that you didn't say it first. you were scared that if you said it first and lando didn't feel the same then he would break up with you. you let your mind carry you away sometimes.

you wait on the couch in your living room for lando to come in. you hear his key in the lock and the rolling of the wheels on his suitcase through the doorway. it makes you giddy but instead of leaping off the couch you stay where you are. lando notices you there and makes his way to you. he doesn't give you time to think before he is wrapping you up in a hug.

your head resting in the crook of his neck as he picks you up in the hug. you laugh at his strength. when your giggles die down thats when you hear him. he's mutter a quiet stream of "i love you"'s into your ear. this is when the tears spring to your eyes again. you pull his head out of your neck to really look at him.

"i love you too. you didn't let me say it back last time." you try to slip the joke in but lando doesn't laugh. no, he just springs forward, lips locking with yours in the sweetest kiss you've had yet from the brit. he pulls away put sends a quick few pecks to your lips, because he can never get enough of you.

you both spend the rest of the day repeating those words to each other like you have just found out what they mean. lando literally feels the need to shout them to everyone he see's in the airport as you wave him goodbye the next again.

while lando is on the flight with no internet he spends his free time typing the words 'i love you' out individually, over and over again then sending it to you just before he lands so that when he does actually land and you get the message. you will be reminded that you are all he thinks about even when you aren't with him.

[cvnt4him]

hii it's meee :3 another izu req

reader plays a prank on her friend izuku, it ultimately goes wrong and they somehow end up trapped inside a closed space. Together. Alone. Tight room. Tension. Heat. Mwah

ah, another ask from the great mind of @lovelykil

I would be more than happy to fulfill this for you<33🎗️

Stuck Inside..

...........................................

God you loved your friend group, how chaotic, dumb, and funny they were, they always made you and mina feel like queens those boys did.

Bakugou, kirishima, denki and sero, they knew how to have fun they sure did, playing pranks on people, having movie nights that only inner circle people are invited to, it was ultimate fun.

But they had an initiation, to officially be invited to the 'bakusquad' not the name you would've gone with but whatever, you had to successfully prank someone in the dekusquad for 5 days and not get caught, see when sero told you this at the lunch table, bakugou and denki smirking while kirishima and mina looked at each other with such worried looks, you were already down, who didn't love a good prank on their peers?

Mina sighed and looked at you with a scared look like she had something to tell you, she tried too, opening her mouth before shutting it at the sight of bakugou staring daggers into her. You wanted to know why they were being so secretive but you didn't want them to not trust you, so you simply kept your mouth shut and listened to sero go on about the tradition.

"so all I have to do is prank someone? Easy."

You say rolling your eyes and clapping your hands together.

"don't forget, you can't get caught, so do whatever it takes, even frame someone else, to get away." Sero emphasizes heavily to you.

"too easy. Now, who shall be my victim.~" you scoff, then rub your hands together scoping out your prey.

"deku."

You hear a slightly rasped, deep voice chime in.

"oh? How come?" You question the still smirking blonde as he glared at you with deep volcanic red eyes.

"do the prank.. or don't. You're the one who wants to be with us, and those are the rules, either do the prank or dip. Either or."

Bakugou barks at you with a shit eating grin, leaning back against the window as he puts his hands behind his head laying on them.

You look around the cafeteria to search for the green haired boy, spotting him smiling and laughing with his friend group. His emerald green eyes shining so bright in the sun, his pearly white smile blinding you, he really was such a bright star, you were just afraid this prank might burn him out, although you really wanted to be apart of their clique, were you really gonna prank an innocent angel who's never done anything wrong to you, just so you can have a designated seat at the 'cool kids' table?

You inhale through your nose and exhale heavily out through your mouth.

"fuck it, I'm in. Any specific prank in mind?"

Yes, yes you were.

Your answer caused bakugou to smile widely at you, the rest of the boys doing so as well as they all snicker and snort quietly, again besides mina and kirishima who just sighed and accepted what was to come there truly was nothing they could do.

"shit man.. that might just make him cry, are you sure?"

You question after hearing the prank they wanted you to do.

"hey, your call, if you don't wanna do this, don't. We aren't forcing you of course these are all your choices, just make sure this is what you really want to do and be prepared to go down if you get caught."

The way denki worded his sentence made you feel something deep inside, guilt? No.. regret? Can't be, you hadn't done anything yet. So what was it?

You sigh, really thinking this through, hell you really felt something inside but you couldn't quite put a finger on it..

"yeah.. oh.. okay, I'll do it."

You agree before shrugging off everything and bringing your gaze back into everyone at the table, smiles still plastered on their faces as you see katsuki and denki fist bump.

That should've been red flag number one.

A couple days later you set your prank into motion, on Monday you started out tame, stealing little things he would need, whether it be his pencil, notebook, doesn't matter, if you could get your hands on it you did.

When izuku realized his notebook was missing, he freaked out looking around with a nervous face, not wanting to interrupt anyone or bother them with his silly needs, you kinda felt bad, but you couldn't let emotions get In the way of becoming an official member of the squad.

You sucked it up and waited for the next day.

As Tuesday hit your pranks slowly progressed into getting worse, you had started leaving mean notes in his locker, his desk, even his bad, they'd say just random hurtful shit, whether that be about his freckles or his scars, things you thought he'd brush off. But boy were you wrong, seeing his spirit shatter as he read each and every note really left a bad taste in your mouth, hell you thought you saw years prickling at the edge of his eyes.

You again, brushed it off and waited for the next day.

Wednesday, you decided to kinda bully him, well not really, just nudge him into the locker when you walked by, or kicking the pit of his knees making them buckle, small things like that.

He felt so humiliated when he nearly tripped because of you, everyone staring at him as you glance at him with doe like eyes and bat your lashes at him.

"are you okay?"

He looked at you with glossy eyes and sniffed before nodding violently and rushing out of the class, you sighed and grabbed you bag leaving too as it was the end of the day, god you hated this but you were almost through, just 3 more days and your free.

As thursday rolled in you sucked up everything in you and, mentally prepared yourself for the next prank, you decided to go off script and do little tame things, take a bite from aoyamas book and leave more little notes in his room, it scared him by the looks of him, you hadn't felt too bad for this one as you and already progressed from the little notes in day 2 of your pranks, just one more day, one more prank and then your free, however this prank was the worst and all if the bakusquad was gonna be present.

You had to make sure you didn't let your emotions get in the way so you mentally prepared yourself the night before.

Finally Friday rolled around, most Fridays are spent training so with that being said you need to change into your hero suit in the locker rooms, deku is always the last one to shower after training and putting away his hero suit, out of respect for his friends, at least that's what the boys told you,

You sigh readying yourself to go in there and take his clothes as they would lock the door making sure he couldn't get out unless he broke the door, then eventually coming back for him in the morning if he hadn't.

God you were terrified, the prep the night before hadn't helped at all, you were literally shaking in your boots. You sighed as you see all of the boys leave the shower room as mina and you waited outside for them to give you a signal.

When bakugou gave you a nod, with a wide smirk on his face you sighed and ran in, the door opening and shutting loudly catching izukus attention whilst he showered, he brushed it off as one of the guys coming in and stated in the shower, you walked to the bench next to the showers making sure he couldn't see you, you grabbed his clothes and ran as fast as you could, once you made it out you held his clothes breathing heavily with a smile on your face as you struggle to catch your breath, your heart beating so fast from the adrenaline.

"I.. I got it!"

You saved it around showing the boys and mina, a smile never making it onto her face, her knowing what's coming next she shuts her eyes and mouths and apology, you look at her as sero, kirishima, and bakugou give you your praise, you were so confused and focused on what she meant by it you hadn't even seen denki slip behind you and quietly open the door, mina quickly pushed you inside and bakugou locked the door with the key, everyone laughing loudly as you fall into the floor with a grunt, kirishima had snatched dekus clothes from you before mina pushed you in, you bang on the door and hokd back tears.

"hey! Let.. let me out! Mina, how fucking could you!.."

All you could hear was laughs as they suddenly faded away, their shadows disappearing as well, as another comes from behind you, you'd seen the shadow on the door as you quickly turn around with a gaso as izuku held a towel around his waist trying to assure you were alright.

You look down before looking back up and looking away.

It was awkward, silent, and he looked so fucking hot, and he probably guessed you were the one that had taken his clothes.

"...hey, you uhm.. wouldn't happen to know where my clothes... are?..."

He spoke quietly, and with a somewhat leveled voice not wanting to scare you off not that you could go anywhere.

You sigh before groaning in anger and frustration as you slap your hands to your face and slide down the door.

" I'm sorry... for taking your clothes and giving it to them, for bullying you and leaving mean notes and taking your things and--"

"that... Those.. things were you?..."

He asked in a confused tone, his brows furrowed, as he looked at the ground before slowly looking up to look at you, his eyes shaking, searching your face for an answer that you didn't want to provide.

You hadn't wanted to speak so you simply nodded, sighing as you bang your head back on the door, causing izuku to jump and rush down to you.

"hey, don't do that you could hurt yourself..."

For fucks sakes, you just admitted to doing these horrible things to him and passing them off as a 'prank' and he's still checking on toyou?

The way he looked down at you, his hand on the back of your head making sure you weren't hurt, his fingers rubbed the area soothingly, making your head lean back into his hand.

The two of you were just looking at each other, eyes staring into the others as your faces moved closer, before you knew his it, his breath fanned you face, the smell of mint coming off of it, he liked to chew gum to keep his jawline nice, god he looked so good like this, water droplets from the shower running down his body and wet hair.

The hand that was on your head moved to your cheek, rubbing his thumb over it as he brought you close, your noses brushed against each other's slightly, it was so quiet you could practically hear his heart pounding out of his chest, his breaths slowly turning more heavy as he looked down to your lips, licking his that were parted and nibbling lightly on his lower one.

"can I kiss you...please?"

His voice coming off more desperate and whimper-y than he meant.

You were tired of talking, tired of thinking, all you wanted to do was push your feelings from the betrayal you just went through down, and what better way to do that than fuck the person you'd been torturing for 5 days?

You pulled him into a deep kiss, groaning inside of it, your teeth clashed together and you pulled him by his shoulders, making him out his knees on either side of your thighs, his towel threatening to come off, you let him trail the kiss off into your neck as he gently kissed, licked, and nipped at it, little noises coming from him as he did so.

You sighed breathily, your eyes accidentally trailed down his lower abdomen, staring at his well toned abs and the v line going down, god that was so sexy to you, as your eyes kept trailing down you seen how his towel was even managing to somewhat stay up, his cock was fully erect and bobbing against the towel, that was the reason he was making whimper like noises.

He started bucking into the towel making your eyes widen slightly at the sight, a little damp patch forming in the thick towel, had he cum or something? You thought to yourself as he full blown moaned into your ear, was he really gaining that much pleasure from grinding his hard on against a rough towel?

You looked up to him as he looked down at you with a red face, his heart was racing as he looked down at his aching cock then back to you, you connected the dots and guessed he was asking you to touch him.

Without thinking about it, your hands trailed up his abs, then down again as you trickle your fingers over his wrapped cock, you felt his cock twitch underneath your light touches as a breathy sigh leaves his opened mouth, his eyes slightly rolling back, there was no way he was getting this much pleasure from this.

You scoffed and gripped his cock tightly, making his body jolt and a stuttery 'oh' leave his mouth as he looked down at you, grabbed you by your cheeks and pulled you into a heated kiss, he bucked his hips into your hand and he moaned and whined into the kiss, it being hard to stay in it due to him humping into your hand frantically like a bunny during mating season or some shit.

Your teeth clashed against each others once more as he shoved his tongue in your mouth, flicking his against yours, swapping spit and groaning into your mouth as you swallowed all his messy little noises that dropped from his mouth like spit.

He grabbed your other hand and pulled it up to his throat and wrapped it around his neck, you just kept your hand right there not applying any force letting him control it as he kept jerking his hips into your tightly gripped hand, he closed his hand around yours that was also around his neck.

Aww, was this his little attempt at getting you to choke him? I suppose his wish is your command.

You choke him harshly making his eyes roll back as he bit his lip harshly, moans being muffled by it, he bucked his hips a few more times before blowing his load into the towel, his cum seeping through the fabric and dripping onto your wrist and your pants, there was just so much you thought he was never gonna stop.

His hips kept lightly twitching up into the towel causing him to bend forward and moan into your ear due to the over stimulation, god his pitchy moans were so hot.

His hot breath still fanned your ear before he finally said something his voice a little groggy.

"please let me... let me eat you.. I want to taste you, please...?"

His sentence ended with a whimper in your ear as he moved his forehead to lean against yours.

"okay."

Was all you could get out before he pulled down your shorts in a flash, your panties coming off with them, he instantly hurriedly his face in-between your partially opened thighs, his tongue licking and prodding against your lower lips, not pushing his tongue fully inside, he licked a tongue stripe up and down your slit, a moan leaving your lips, you didn't fight anything and just let him work his magic, and bit was he magical with his tongue.

He finally stopped teasing and pushing his pink muscle inside, quickly lapping at your hole and lightly licking you clit in fast motions, he continued this for a while, and by a while I mean about 15 minutes, you were so close to cumming a couple of times but every time he sensed you were about to come he pulled away and pet your slit gently with his thumb, occasionally circling your clit slowly, agonizingly slow.

"wh..- why do you keep testing me like this.."

You groaned and looked down at him with glossed eyes, you didn't expect him to look at you with such a piercing gaze, his lidded emerald eyes staring painful daggers at you as he shoved two of his thick fingers inside of you without warning.

Your back arched and the pain mixed pleasures hips grinding down into his fingers as he finger fucked you, his fingers plunged in and out of you at a insanely fast pace, tears started prickling at the corner of your eyes, you were so close once again before he scoffed and pulled away with a smirk.

"do you really think you deserve to cum after how you've treated me all week? No, you're going to suffer like you made me."

His fingers arched up into you and plunged in and out of you at an erratic pace for about 5 more minutes, he just kept going and stopping not letting you cum.

"you wanna cum, love? Beg. Beg for me to let me cum, slut."

You were sobbing, tears streaming down your puffy red cheeks, hiccups and spit leaving your mouth as a string of incoherent begs left your mouth, you were pleasing helplessly for the orgasms you needed.

He sighed with a smile, squinted emerald eyes peering down at you in an evil, yet satisfied way. He loved how dumb you were from being finger fucked like this, god he could only imagine how brain dead you'd be if he fucked you in his cock.

He didn't say a word as he simply picked up up with ease, man handling you like a ragdoll, and switched your positions, you were now straddling his lap, due to you not expecting him to pick you up so quickly you leaned against his body, your tears falling onto his shoulder as he rubbed your back soothingly, hushing you while kissing the top of your head.

"it's okay, baby, you did so well for me. I'll give you what you need now, okay?"

You gulp hardly, you can hardly even get words out as you're still hiccuping from crying, before you can fully process what he says he undoes his towel that was previously wrapped around his waist and slammed his cock inside of you, you winced at the stretch and the brutal pace he'd already set.

You groan loudly as your eyes roll back, your head falling onto his shoulder as you can barely get out little 'fuck's and 'please's.

He hadn't let up, his hips hammering up into you, you were grinding down into him causing a breathy moan to leave him, a smile made it's way back onto his face as he kissed your head once more.

"you're doing.. so well, my love, it's okay I'll make you cum."

The way he whispered lovingly in your ear made this experience for you so much better for you, you had tightened around him, feeling that familiar feeling, you were going to cum, finally you were going to get to feel that release that you needed, tears continuously fell from your face as you moaned loudly, picking your head up from the crook of his neck to gripping his broad shoulders for stability as you begin grinding into him, feeling so close you hadn't wanted him to rip it away from you again.

He was shocked by the control you ended up taking, he didn't stop thrusting into you, although due to you grinding the rhythm he had set had been thrown off track, your hips hit against each other in an uneven fashion, but you couldn't possibly begin to care when you were finally going to cum.

Izuku grabbed at you hips, holding them tightly to stop you from moving, you tried to continue moving despite his painful grip on your waist, he was far too strong for you to even remotely gain he upper hand, you let him win as he sped up the jerking and jolting of his hips, the clapping sound of your ass meeting his pelvis echoing throughout the locker room.

There was one thrust that hit so vigorously against that sweet spot inside you, everything in you fell apart, you inhaled sharply, eyes rolling back as you grip and scratch as his shoulders harshly leaving a mark and probabkt even drawing blood, he grkaned byt never ceased his hips from stopping, your velvety walls convulsed around his so sweetly it caused his hips to buck into you at a frantic and frenzied pace, his hios stuttering into you as his breath hitched, he squeezed his eyed shut tightly, trying to hold out just a little longer to feel your warn and soft walls tighten around him, alas he simply couldn't, he thrusted one last time before spilling his seed deep inside of you, the warmth of his thick sticky cum warming you entirely, a shiver going up your spine as he lets his head lean into your neck, sighing deeply in the crook.

Your head ended up on top of his, coming your fingers through his damp curls, he sighed in content enjoying the satisfying feeling of your fingers raking and scratching his scalp, you wanted to say so much but also just sit in the moment, it was silent, but it was a comfortable one that you hadn't wanted to ruin with words.

"why did you forgive me so easily."

You say in a groggy and slightly raised voice, you moaned so loudly and cried so hard you had slightly started to lose your voice, izuku simply hummed, enjoying the vibration of your chest as you spoke and the nice feeling of still being inside of your warm messy insides.

"well, I suppose I haven't exactly forgiven you yet, but I'm not going to stop being your friend because of what happened."

"seriously? This shit is fucked up, we're locked in here, with no way to get out, and you don't have any clothes you could get sick. Or worse. Die."

He simply chuckled, making you angry, you were worried and all he could do was laugh at you.

"what?"

"y/n I can't get common sicknesses anymore, I don't know what OFA has done to my immune system but I can't catch things like the flu, or a cold, or anything like that, so I assure you, I won't get sick and I won't die, but thank you for worrying about me."

He chided, informing you factually like you could have possibly known that. you sigh and nuzzle your cold nose back into his damp hair, you sniffed causing him to slightly tense and move back to look at your face.

"are you alright, y/n?"

The way he looked at you with those vibrant emerald eyes, so wide and loving, his cheeks still slightly tinted a light shade of red as his freckles are littered all over his baby like face, you smile and put your forehead to his, closing your eyes making him do the same and sigh.

"I'm okay, but we seriously need to figure out how to get the hell out of here." You say softly, clearing your throat from the scratchiness you could feel, were you getting sick?

"there's a back door that I'm sure they didn't lock. We can skip out though there, do you have your phone on you?"

"oh! Yeah, wh-... fuck me. This whole time I could have called someone to get us out of here." You groan, absolutely disappointed in yourself for not using your shitty brain.

He simply giggles before grabbing your now unlocked phone.

"you must've really wanted to have sex with me, eh?" He tested lightly poking fun at you making you slap his shoulder, another like if laughs leaving him as he calls iida, neither of you expected him to be awake yet he was, his breath was slightly ragged, what had he been doing, maybe out on a run? Doesn't add up too much, it's 10 pm and they have a curfew for 12 am.

Iida had helped you two out, meeting you two at the other exit and giving you clothes to give to izuku, he continuously asked questions on why the two of you weren't in bed and why izuku didn't have any clothes and why you two were even together.

The whole walk back to the dorms was full of iida whisper yelling at the two of you for being irresponsible, you couldn't stop looking at izukus face though, or just him in general, he suddenly became oddly appealing to you, but you still couldn't shake the guilty feeling of the things you and done to him, he glanced at you giving you a warm smile, kissing your head goodnight before turning into his room, taking iida by surprise.

You chuckled and went to your dorm, jumping in your bed and calming it a night, you sighed at the comfortable feeling of your bed, giggling to yourself remembering how izuku came inside of you. Your eyes slowly shut and you drifted off to sleep.

...........................................

AN; this shit is hot ass, but at least the smut is great, I might remake this w/o the pranking part, it was hard to think of a good prank to do for this fic, im kind of dumb so.. yeah. I hope you all enjoyed reading this<33