#(thinking we can end here or on your reply)

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Intoxication [S. R]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

wc: 9.2k

Summary: when Spencer and reader accidentally consume aphrodisiacs, it seems impossible to maintain control of themselves. It all comes down to who will lose their mind first.

warnings: +18, mdni!! alcohol consumption, mentions of weed, unintentional use of aphrodisiacs, explicit descriptions, oral (f receiving) fingering, kissing, porn with plot, p in v, protected sex, no y/n!

It had been just over half an hour since I entered the fraternity building, fully aware that within the first second, I’d feel the need to leave. Attending any gathering wasn’t a regular thing for me. The noise, the crowds, and the multitude of germs everywhere were reason enough to avoid them.

However, that time, I thought, why not? I had never been to one of those university parties and wanted to experience it. However, I never considered the fact that, to enjoy one, you either: a) went with a group of friends or b) drank until you forgot your name and the discomfort you felt about yourself. I didn’t have the first option, nor did I want to do the second. So, after a few minutes of reflection, I decided I would walk back to my apartment and go straight to bed.

The place was huge, and since my postgraduate program didn’t include the benefit of dormitories, I rarely found myself in places like that. I was about to leave when a hand grabbed my forearm to stop me. In front of me, smiling widely, was her. The moment I saw her, I could swear my face lit up.

“Hi”

“Spencer! I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

Without letting go of my arm, she came closer, wrapping me in a hug and planting a kiss on my cheek before I could react.

I quickly glanced at her, and in the dim light, I noticed her wearing a fitted, spaghetti-strap dress in a deep burgundy red with delicate floral embroidery that looked hand-drawn on the sheer fabric. The material, likely chiffon or tulle, clung to her figure as if custom-made. I tried to focus on her leather jacket instead because the last thing I wanted was to make her uncomfortable by staring too long.

“I was just about to leave, actually.”

“Why?” she asked, noticing my sigh.

“It’s just... I don’t know anyone here.”

“Well, that problem is now solved,” she kindly murmured.

I didn’t even get the chance to respond when she had already walked over to another girl, whispering something in her ear, probably to let her know she’d be away for a while.

Even though I wanted to decline to stay, the truth was that I genuinely enjoyed her company. Rejecting her would have been too rude. We had met some time ago thanks to the advanced classes she took, which overlapped with mine. She was younger than me, of course, but only by one or two years.

She had always been kind to me, attentive, and one could say she was a friend. After all, I trusted her enough to let her hold my hand and guide me through the crowd, despite my aversion to physical contact… and people.

“It’d be a crime to let you leave so early after finally coming to a party,” she breathed once we were both seated on a tiny couch where the noise was slightly muffled. At least she had been considerate in that regard.

“I don’t even know why I came,” I said, shifting uncomfortably. She was leaning against one side, legs crossed, looking at me with a smile. “I don’t like parties.”

“Do you like drinking?” she asked. I shook my head “Maybe that’s the root of the problem.”

“Getting drunk to the point of losing control isn’t my thing,” I replied.

“That’s not what it’s about,” she murmured almost compassionately “It’s more like… fuel for your social battery, you know? You don’t have to deal with these people. I don’t even know half of them, but the guys in this fraternity are disgustingly rich and just want to get as many girls drunk as possible to sleep with whoever they can. They won’t mind if you drink a little. Enough to have fun, but not so much you end up in some stranger’s bed.”

I thought about it for a second and silently nodded. I didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of her by saying I didn’t want to drink because, come on, what kind of university student doesn’t drink?

“I understand your point, and I don’t mean to be a buzzkill, but alcohol has a more complex impact than it seems. It’s not just something that ‘fuels your social battery’; it’s a central nervous system depressant, which means it slows down brain and motor functions. That initial feeling of euphoria or relaxation happens because it inhibits the prefrontal cortex—the part of your brain that regulates judgment and self-awareness. So, technically, drinking a little might make you feel more uninhibited or confident, but it can also impair your ability to make rational decisions if you overdo it, even if you don’t notice right away.”

I paused, gauging how much more I should say before losing her interest. Hearing no objections, I continued:

“Additionally, strong liquors, which have high ethanol concentrations, can hit your system faster than diluted drinks. And if you drink too quickly, you could easily exceed your liver’s ability to metabolize the alcohol. The excess ethanol stays in your bloodstream, raising your blood alcohol levels and increasing the risk of intoxication.”

I avoided looking directly at her, partly because I didn’t want to get distracted by her gaze and partly because I was nervous around her.

“It’s not that I want to ruin your fun, but if you’re going to drink, you should do it slowly, alternating with water, and never on an empty stomach. Not to seem smarter than everyone else, but because staying in control can be the difference between a fun night and a situation you don’t want to be in.”

I expected her to look bored, confused, or even indifferent, assuming she’d left halfway through my rambling. But when I looked at her, I was surprised by the admiration shining in her eyes, accompanied by an amused smile.

“All right, genius boy, if you know all that and basically have the perfect recipe for not making stupid mistakes while drinking, why do you still refuse?” she teased playfully. I didn’t know what to say, but luckily, she answered for me “Listen, I drove here. How about we make a deal? We can drink a little, have a good time, maybe dance if you want, and if either of us starts doing something embarrassing, the soberest one will make sure to drag the other to the car and drive them home. Deal?”

She handed me her car keys, and I wasn’t sure if the brush of her hand against mine was intentional or if she had decided to linger a little longer.

I agreed to her proposal, and a second later, she was already off her seat, walking toward where I assumed the kitchen was. No one noticed us entering, too absorbed in their own business to care if we were strangers.

There was every type of alcohol scattered around, and she took the liberty of pouring me a shot of a clear liquid, which I guessed was vodka. She warned me to drink it in one gulp, and when the warmth hit my throat, I barely managed to avoid coughing. If she noticed, she didn’t say anything.

“Tastes like… strawberry.”

“It’s good, right?” she laughed, giving my shoulder a playful nudge.

Our previous seat was already taken, so she opted for us to stand in a quiet corner. I have to admit that, although I still felt slightly awkward, the vodka was having the desired effect; making me feel more animated to talk.

Talking to her was almost hypnotic. Maybe it was the rhythmic movement of her lips, still stained with traces of what had once been red lipstick, or perhaps it was her tone, but it made me feel like I had to watch her. She never faltered when she spoke, always exuding confidence and calm, no matter the topic.

On the other hand, whenever I responded, I completely lost focus. No matter what I said, she kept looking at me with a wide smile, nodding, and even leaning closer when something made her laugh. But her laugh wasn’t mocking—no, it was as if she genuinely found my intellectual jokes or nonsensical remarks funny.

Gradually, my glass emptied, and she guided me back to the kitchen, serving us moderately but consistently. After an hour, all my nerves had vanished, leaving only a normal guy enjoying the terrible background music, unconcerned about how dirty the place was, and utterly captivated by the woman next to him.

“It’s strange, you know? I didn’t think I’d enjoy something like this. Parties always seemed so… chaotic,”

She looked around with a slight smile.

“That’s true. They’re not exactly calm, but in a way, the chaos has its charm. It lets you leave everything else behind for a while.”

“I suppose you’re right. Sometimes, you just need to disconnect.”

“You seem less tense now, huh? Are you sure it’s not the vodka helping with that?”

She moved closer, almost leaning against my chest in a friendly way, and seeing her looking up at me made my face feel hot.

“Maybe. But it’s also largely due to the company.”

She seemed surprised by my sudden boldness and let out a laugh that I interpreted as a sign of approval. We continued drinking, laughing, and soon my stomach demanded food. Even in my slightly tipsy state, I still remembered that eating would help lessen the effects of the alcohol.

I have to admit that the way I held her waist to guide her to the kitchen was entirely intentional. However, she didn’t seem bothered by the contact. By this point, I’d realized that no one really cared about what we took or didn’t take, so we felt free to rummage through the pantry.

“There are chips, pretzels, Cheetos, some cookies...” she began listing, handing me each package she found.

I grabbed a stray cookie, and suddenly, she let out a sigh of admiration.

“What is it?”

“Chocolate,” she murmured happily. It was a half-eaten, luxurious-looking golden package with no label “Do you want some?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea. Chocolate has properties that can slightly boost energy and mood. Both alcohol and chocolate can be hard for the body to handle, especially with a combination of high sugar and alcohol content. This can lead to stomach discomfort, dizziness, or a stronger hangover the next day.”

But she wasn’t listening. She had already popped a sizeable piece of chocolate into her mouth. Immediately, she offered me a piece, slightly bigger than hers.

“You have to try it,” she moaned.

I resisted, but I have to admit that the fact she grabbed my shirt and pulled me closer caught me off guard enough to let her slip the chocolate into my mouth.

“Hey!”

“You’ll thank me later.”

It was delicious, that’s for sure. Like a pair of sneaky raccoons, we kept scavenging for snacks in the kitchen until we were satisfied. She grabbed a bag of chips, and I took the bag of pretzels.

After our little break, she poured us another round of drinks, and something inside me told me it was time to stop. I decided that would be my last glass for the night.

Let’s dance she suddenly whispered, and once again, I let her lead me toward the crowd.

I didn’t know how to dance; I think that was pretty obvious. But the situation managed to make me forget that fact.

She was patient with me and laughed every time I made a mistake. Even though there was smoke around me, probably from weed, that didn't stop me from staring intently, and even somewhat intimidated, at my friend. Beautiful, statuesque, and drunk friend.

We danced for a long time until something in her swaying movements, in the way she smiled at me, began to make my head spin. It was as if the atmosphere was charged with something more—something I couldn’t identify at first.

She leaned closer, and my pulse began to quicken slightly. Her hands rose to tangle in my neck, bringing a warm sensation that followed: my thoughts seemed clearer, sharper. I wondered if it was the alcohol, but then something different began to course through my skin.

The warmth intensified, not just in my body but in my mind as well. I felt more alert, more awake, yet the calmness of the vodka lingered, balancing the sensation. My skin felt more sensitive, as if every little touch sent vibrations through me in a more intense way.

My eyes focused more on her movements, her voice, and the way the air filled with her perfume. I wanted to get closer, as if there were an invisible force pulling me toward her. And though my body responded with a soft yearning, my mind remained present, conscious of every second.

By the way she was looking at me, I imagined I wasn’t the only one experiencing these kinds of emotions.

“Sweetheart.”

“Hmm?”

“Can we sit down for a moment? I’m completely sweaty, and the smell of weed is starting to bother me.”

“Of course.”

My hands rested on her waist, unsure of where else to go, and we stumbled out of the crowd, finding a couch to collapse onto.

I was sweaty too, and we were both breathing heavily. When I saw her lean her head back against the seat, leaving her neck exposed, something stirred inside me.

“You move well, Reid.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I mean it. You just need a little confidence,” she smiled. Perhaps the alcohol dulled her sense of personal space, which is why she leaned so close to me. “You’re so smart that, with a bit of practice, you’d be the most skilled at a lot of physical activities.”

Did she know how nervous she was making me? My face was already flushed from the alcohol, the effort, and now from the way she was looking at me while twirling a strand of her hair around her finger.

I wanted to say something else, but a voice interrupted mine: a tall, burly guy accompanied by two others who seemed to be flanking him. Probably a member of the fraternity hosting the party.

He specifically addressed her, asking how she was enjoying the party and throwing in a compliment, clearly with ulterior motives. For a moment, I felt disheartened. Of course, she could have gone with him and I would have understood. I was far too used to rejection.

“I’m having a great time—with my friend. Thanks,” she exclaimed, cordial but curt.

“Want a drink?”

“Honestly, no.”

By the uncomfortable smile she gave the men, I assumed she was politely ending the conversation. With some reluctance, the guys walked away.

Suddenly, my breath caught when I felt her hand rest on my thigh, sliding painfully slowly down to my knee. I couldn’t even hear her words over the heat of her fingers on my pants.

“Sorry?”

“I thought you were going to say something, earlier.”

“No,” I quickly replied, smiling like an idiot because of the way she had leaned toward me. “Nothing.”

“I like listening to you. You know so many things, and you don’t make me feel dumb when you explain them. That’s very sexy.”

“Sexy?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, because I’d replied in a voice an octave higher than normal. “You are very sexy.”

Her compliment was followed by a soft, distracted kiss on the line of my jaw, which sent my brain into overdrive.

“Uhm… you… you’re beautiful. Very beautiful.”

My clumsy compliment seemed to please her, and I felt one of her nails, long and painted black, tracing circles on the skin of my knee. Each small movement felt deliberate, as if she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Did you know fireflies don’t just glow to communicate but also to… attract?”

Her voice broke the silence between us, soft but layered with a double meaning that made me lift my eyes to her.

“Yes, I know,” I responded automatically, my brain switching to autopilot. “Bioluminescent signals are a form of courtship. The light patterns vary by species and can be very specific.”

She turned her head toward me, her lips curving into a lazy smile.

“Of course you’d know that. But tell me something—do you think it actually works? Making someone notice you just by glowing?”

My throat went dry. There was something about the way she was looking at me, like she was expecting a more personal answer than a scientific one.

“I guess it depends on who you’re trying to attract,” I murmured, feeling ridiculously exposed under her gaze.

“That makes sense.”

Her hand slid slightly—barely noticeable—toward the edge of my knee. After tapping her fingers on my pants, she withdrew it.

She didn’t move from the couch, and neither did I. There was something about her posture that held me captive—the way she leaned back against the seat, relaxed yet naturally elegant. Her dress had ridden up slightly along her thighs, revealing more skin than I felt prepared to handle at that moment. I tried to look elsewhere, but it was as if my eyes had a will of their own, always returning to the same place.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice soft but laced with a hint of amusement.

“Yes, of course,” I replied quickly, turning my head in the other direction. Perhaps too quickly, because my neck cracked slightly in the process.

She didn’t say anything, but her suppressed laughter made me feel even more awkward. In the silence that followed, I forced myself to focus on something safer: the empty glass on the table, the flickering lights through the window, anything but the curve of her leg or the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.

“It’s hot, isn’t it?” she commented suddenly, with almost theatrical casualness. Then, without warning, she leaned forward as if to adjust her shoe, causing the neckline of her dress to dip even further.

“Do you think so?” I muttered, my voice raspier than I intended.

She smiled, a gesture somewhere between innocence and knowing.

“Yes, definitely. Though maybe it’s because we’re sitting so close,” she said, glancing around as if she had only just noticed the temperature.

Her words felt like both a slap and a caress at the same time. I tried to keep my gaze fixed on her face, but it didn’t help that her eyes shone with a kind of mischievous intent. Then she lifted one leg, bending it to get more comfortable on the couch, and her knee accidentally brushed against my thigh.

“Did you know you have a very particular way of distracting yourself?” she remarked while toying with the hem of her dress, as if unaware of the chaos she was causing in my head.

“Do I?” my voice sounded weak, almost a whisper.

She nodded slowly, leaning in a bit closer until I could feel the warmth of her proximity.

“Yes. It’s like you’re trying to avoid something but… you can’t.”

My throat went dry. I wanted to say something clever, to steer the conversation away, anything to regain some ground. But instead, all that came out was a nervous, forced laugh.

She didn’t stop looking at me. Then, with exasperating slowness, she smoothed the fabric of her dress over her thigh—a casual gesture.

“You know, sometimes you seem so self-aware. It’s something that can be endearing, but also… well, how do I put it?” she paused for a moment, bringing a finger to her lips as if she were reflecting. “It makes you seem easier to impress.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s nothing, Reid. It’s just me rambling” her voice softened, and I felt the lightest touch on my nose as her finger grazed it. I tried to ignore the fact that her gaze had lingered on my lips “Scattered thoughts I have in my head.”

Without warning, she let out a loud exhale and leaned back into the couch, arching her back as if trying to relieve some muscle tension. I know she probably wasn’t aware of the movement, but it was what finally made me lose the little composure I had left.

“I need to use the restroom. Can you give me a moment?”

I escaped. Cowardly, completely, I got up and practically bolted toward the bathroom, desperate for a moment of peace. As soon as I entered, I realized I had an obvious problem in my pants—I was hard as a rock, and that wasn’t good. I looked at myself in the mirror, surprised at how flushed my face was. My pupils were dilated, my lips dry… What the hell was happening to me?

It quickly became clear that she was the reason for my situation.

The alcohol prevented me from feeling the embarrassment I surely deserved, and instead, I felt like my head was spinning. I placed a hand over the fabric of my pants, letting out a frustrated, pained groan.

I stayed there for a while, trying to think of something that would make my erection go away, but nothing worked. A couple of knocks on the door startled me, and that forced me to leave. Once in the hallway, I walked for a bit until I bumped into someone.

“Spencer! I’ve been looking for you. Are you okay?”

“No! I mean, yes… it’s just…”

I needed to think of something quickly—something believable, but not catastrophic. However, it was hard to concentrate with her body so close to mine, mere inches away from her noticing my situation.

“Did you throw up?”

“No, no, it’s not that. It’s nothing. I think the vodka didn’t sit well with me, uh, maybe I got dizzy from dancing, I don’t know. I think it’s best if I leave.”

“Poor thing,” she murmured, pouting “I’ll take you home right now.”

“I can take a cab.”

“Nonsense. That was our agreement, remember? If one of us was in bad shape, the other would take care of them. Plus, I was the one who encouraged you to drink. I’d feel bad if something happened to you.”

She was already putting on her jacket—she’d been holding it, probably suspecting the situation—and tried to find the keys in her pocket. My outstretched hand reminded her that she’d already given them to me earlier.

When she placed her hand on the small of my back to guide me out, my breathing deepened. The sensation of excitement coursed through me in a way I couldn’t ignore. I realized that something in me desperately wanted her. Too much.

It wasn’t an impulsive desire but a subtle one that had been building throughout the night—with every glance, every gesture. Perhaps the vodka had intensified my evident attraction to her, but whatever the reason, it had turned into something far more palpable.

It was almost as if my body was begging me to stop her right then and there, to kiss her recklessly, and maybe, just maybe, ease the relentless ache inside me.

The cool night air made me feel better, and as the noise faded behind us, I began to calm down. I fervently tried to hide the bulge in my pants, but the truth was she didn’t even seem to notice. Then again, it would’ve been strange to catch her staring at my crotch, right?

“Are you sure you’re in a condition to drive?”

“I’ve driven home in far worse states of drunkenness. Don’t worry,” she smiled.

She looked more lucid now, as if her intoxication had vanished in an instant. I decided to trust her abilities.

The drive home was silent, and I kept shifting in my seat, trying to find strategic positions to avoid embarrassment. I guess she attributed my silence to the supposed discomfort I was feeling, as she didn’t try to start a conversation.

She didn’t say anything when she caught me looking at her through the rearview mirror. It was an innocent glance, at least on my part, simply admiring her. Her lips were driving me crazy, her eyes, slightly narrowed from the lack of light and smudged with mascara, seemed the most beautiful to me. I didn’t know what she saw in me, but I think—no, I feel—that it was something she liked.

“Thank you so much for bringing me home… and for everything.”

“Did you have fun?”

“Quite a lot, actually.”

“We should do this more often.”

“Go to university parties?”

“Just go out in general. To a bar, grab some drinks, a coffee, the library if you’d prefer,” she laughed “The place doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re there.”

Was she implying she wanted a date with me? I swallowed hard and looked at her, trying to decipher what she wanted me to do. I couldn’t figure it out.

“I’d like that, yes. We can talk about that later. Thanks again for the ride.”

A kiss on my cheek marked her goodbye, and I rushed out, eager to get inside my apartment. I was about to unlock the building’s door when the sound of a car horn made me turn around.

“Hey, would you mind if I use your bathroom? I’ll be quick,” she promised.

I needed to get to the shower and turn on the cold water, but I didn’t protest when she turned off the car engine.

Almost no one visited me in the apartment, so I kept the space however I pleased. It wasn’t really messy, but there were plenty of things on the desk and several books scattered around.

She entered, as she had said, rushing to the bathroom. It was only then that I dared to put a hand over my pants, swallowing a moan that was about to escape from my throat.

In my limited sexual experiences, nothing like this had ever happened to me, and I wondered what the cause might have been. Alcohol couldn’t be blamed, of course, but it was responsible for ruining my ability to react enough to find another explanation.

The shirt began to feel heavy on me, and almost out of necessity, I undid the first buttons to let myself breathe. I tried to ventilate my skin by tugging at the fabric with the tips of my fingers, but it was useless. I sighed.

I glanced around the room, just wanting to make sure nothing was embarrassing in view, and at that moment, she came out of the bathroom. She looked flushed and had some wet hair, as if she had washed her face.

“You okay?”

“Yes, just… suddenly felt a bit feverish”

“Let me check”

My intentions were purely medical when I cupped her face with one hand, putting the back of the other against her forehead to confirm or deny my suspicions. Of course, I hadn’t considered how close we would be. Or maybe I had, subconsciously, and that’s why I moved forward.

My choice of words wasn't the best either.

“You’re hot,”

“I don’t think it’s as much as you.”

A daring smile slid across her lips, and I held my breath as her fingers traced up to the line of my collarbone, exposed by my shirt.

“Why are you saying that?”

“Don’t you like it?”

“It’s just… I don’t understand it.”

A soft laugh echoed in my ears.

“Well, I think you’re very handsome. Would there be any other reason for that?”

I swallowed deeply. She noticed the movement of my Adam’s apple.

“No… I think… I think not. It’s the most logical thing.”

“Don’t they tell you that often?” she murmured, genuinely confused. I shook my head “That’s a shame.”

Her hand, which had been tentatively caressing my skin, moved up to my neck and pulled me just a few inches closer to her.

“Hey, Spencer.”

“Yes?”

“Could I kiss you?”

A chill ran down my spine. And without thinking, I answered yes.

Her mouth found mine with a softness that contrasted with the whirlwind of sensations inside me. It was a heady contrast: the sweetness of her lips against the intensity of the desire that had been building up in every fiber of my being.

My hands instinctively moved to her waist, hesitating for a moment, as if fearing that this might just be a product of my imagination. But she didn’t hesitate. Her body leaned into me, closing any distance that remained.

Her lips were insistent, demanding, and before I could process what was happening, her hand slid down to my chest, pushing me gently back until my back collided with the wall.

“I’m sorry…” I managed to murmur between kisses, pulling my face slightly away. My voice came out more trembly than I wanted.

She raised an eyebrow, tilting her face toward mine, her fingers now brushing my jawline.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“For this” my gaze dropped quickly before returning to her eyes. “No… I didn’t want you to feel it. It’s embarrassing.”

For a moment, I thought she would pull away, that the spell of the moment would break. But instead, her lips curved into a mischievous smile.

“Embarrassing? I thought I was the only one feeling all this tension,” her tone was low, almost a whisper, but filled with a certainty that made my breath grow even more erratic.

Before I could respond, her lips captured mine again, this time with more intensity. The kiss was everything I didn’t know I needed: desperate, intoxicating, completely consumed by the connection between us. I felt her body press against mine, her curves fitting perfectly as if they were made to be there. And then, all my doubts, all my attempts to hold back, vanished.

My mind was a whirlwind. Every touch of her lips, every time her tongue sought mine, was like a fire I couldn’t put out. My face was hot, yes, but now not because of the alcohol, not even from the effort of holding myself back. It was her closeness, her touch, her condescending voice still echoing in my head.

She knows what she’s doing. And she’s slowly killing me.

“Hey, wait…”

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you feel okay with this?”

“A lot. Do you want to stop?”

“No. It’s just that… you’ve been drinking. I don’t want you to think I took advantage of you” my voice came out hoarse, full of doubt and repressed desire.

Her eyes met mine, firm and warm at the same time, as if her gaze could completely disarm me.

“Relax. You’ve been drinking too, pretty, and I think if anyone could make that accusation, it would be you. Do you feel like I’m taking advantage of you?”

“No”

“I’m fully aware of everything. I don’t even feel drunk anymore. The only thing that’s making me dizzy right now is you, Spencer…”

I shivered when I heard my name on her lips like that. She continued:

“I’m just as anxious as you are. I’ve been holding back all night, trying not to make this too obvious, but I can’t anymore. Please, don’t doubt me. Don’t doubt what I want. I want you”

Her confession hit my heart like a blow and ignited a spark that set my entire body on fire. My hand moved up her back until it tangled in her hair, while the other rested on her hip. The pull was gentle but enough for her to understand that my inner struggle had ended. I wasn’t resisting this anymore.

I wanted her too. I wanted her now.

“I never imagined…”

My words were barely audible as our lips brushed in a kiss that was both an explosion of emotions and a long-awaited relief. Her mouth was soft, and so perfectly synchronized with mine that I felt like the world stopped at that moment.

Her hands gripped my shoulders, anchoring the connection between us, while my thumb traced a slow path along her jawline, savoring every detail of her skin. It was more than a kiss. It was the confirmation of something that had been lingering all evening.

When we parted just a centimeter to breathe, our foreheads stayed pressed together.

“Did that clear your doubts?”

“You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say all that,” I replied with a weak smile, the only one my pounding heart allowed me to form.

“Then stop overthinking”

The space between us disappeared again as we kissed with desperation we had both been suppressing. Her low laugh vibrated against my lips, and I couldn’t help but smile. How did she do it? How did she drive me crazy with so little effort?

But now wasn’t the time for questions. It was time to feel.

The whole world had reduced itself to him: his warm breath, his lips that wavered between soft and desperate, and the hands that roamed my waist with a mix of reverence and clumsiness, making me want him even more. Spencer had always been an enigma to me, a balance between restraint and passion that I didn't know how to decipher... until now.

I had waited for this moment more than I would ever admit. Maybe it had been the way he looked at me when he thought I didn't notice, or the warmth in his voice when he said my name, as if it were something sacred. But now, with his body pressed against mine and his doubts finally gone, I knew I hadn't imagined anything.

It was as if the pieces of a puzzle I had been trying to put together in the dark finally clicked into place, and the resulting image was more beautiful than I had ever dreamed.

Wanting to reverse the roles, it was now him who gently pushed me against the wall, and I felt the control he always seemed to have begin to crack. His breath was heavy, his body trembling slightly, a sign that this was as new and overwhelming for him as it was for me.

"Spencer..." I murmured his name again, feeling it resonate in my chest at the same time his lips moved more intensely against mine. "Can I ask you something?"

I received an affirmative exhalation, and to let me speak, his lips moved to the hollow of my neck. Although my mouth was free, the soft and wet kisses I was receiving blurred my judgment a bit.

"Tell me”

"Did you really feel bad at the party? Or was it just..."

"I didn't want you to notice what you were doing to me. Although I think at this point it doesn't matter much, right?"

Contrary to what I expected, Spencer pushed his hips against mine, as if he wanted to prove that it was true. I could even call it a claim, something that said: look what you did to me. And I wanted him to know just how much my body was begging for him.

Carefully, I moved one of his hands from my waist, and before he could protest, I guided it to one of my thighs, dangerously close to my core. I was glad I had thought of lingerie as a great complement to my dress, maybe in an attempt to feel sexy even if no one saw it. But now, he was going to see it.

Spencer understood my silent request. Those long, slender fingers, which seemed made for more than just flipping through the pages of a book or scribbling frantic notes on paper, slid across my smooth skin. I sighed as I remembered the veins tracing a map under his fair skin, like rivers of contained energy.

Until they finally reached where I needed them. And his touch... God, his touch was something else. They were hands made for discovery, for holding, for exploring, but in those moments, they seemed to be made only for me.

Spencer wasn't an overly bold guy, so it didn't surprise me that he just traced shapes above my panties, as if he wanted to diagnose my anatomy before making any move. My sighs at his ear seemed to please him.

Suddenly, he stopped kissing me, and I huffed, since I liked the attention he was giving my shoulder, until I felt his lips drop just slightly. A loud, pathetic moan escaped me when he squeezed my tits while burying his face to leave an experimental kiss.

I was barely processing that when he knelt in front of me and, carefully, took the edge of my dress and lifted it.

My legs trembled with anticipation at the thought of what he was going to do next, and then I felt his lips brush my thigh. He started gentle, kind, but soon he began sucking every bit of skin he could, and in the end, he made sure to leave bites strong enough to make me whimper.

Who would have thought that this man, seemingly so inexperienced, turned out to offer the best foreplay a woman could desire?

I squealed as I felt his kisses trail down to the fabric of my panties, pausing for a moment to lick the length of my still-clothed pussy.

“You’re dripping wet,” he observed. I was too focused on not giving in right then and there to say anything "Is oral something you're into?"

“I don’t know,” I exclaimed honestly. I didn’t care how vulnerable I looked as I confessed that no man had ever dared to give me head “You?”

“It’s an idea that piques my curiosity, yes.”

Gently he slid some of the fabric aside to clear the way for his tongue, and I felt as if my entire body was only aware of the parts he was probing, kissing, sucking. When he raised my thigh to shoulder height, deepening his thrusts, I felt like I was going to pass out.

I lowered my hand to his thick head and tried, in vain, to push him away from me. I honestly didn’t have the strength or desire to do so, much less when he had picked up the pace.

I moaned a sweet nickname out loud and then Spencer pulled away, looking up at me with glossy, swollen lips.

“Take me to bed, please.”

He didn’t need me to say it twice as he immediately stood up and took me by the waist to guide me to said spot. I was able to taste myself on his lips and for some reason that only turned me on.

Once we hit the mattress the way he laid me down was gentle and I sighed at that. How could he be so sweet all the time? I wondered. And worse yet, how much would this little adventure affect my future expectations?

Because if it was about standards, I was finding out that Spencer Reid was the standard.

Seemingly more enthralled now by my lips than my pussy, he continued with the make-out session we were having. With each touch we had, my excitement was increasing more and more. In the midst of it all I managed to unbutton his shirt and take it off to leave it somewhere on the bed; the semi-darkness of the room shielded any insecurities he might be feeling, as well as my own.

“You are painfully stunning, did you know?”

My tone was one of reproach, and he laughed at that, looking down almost embarrassed. Maybe he wasn't used to compliments, but something told me he was definitely enjoying it.

I heard him murmur something under his breath about me, while he took down the straps of my dress. My hands almost instinctively went to unbuckle his belt, and before I could do anything, he pulled away from me. Needless to say, this left me confused.

"Sorry, I..."

“You don't want to?” I murmured understandingly. I thought maybe he wasn't a big fan of these situations, and I understood, but somehow I felt hurt.

"No! Sure I want to. I want it a lot, but..." he tried not to look at me, as if avoiding confrontation "It's just that I don't have any protection here”

A laugh escaped my lips, and I feared he might interpret it as mockery, so I stretched my neck to steal another kiss.

"One would think there are many girls who pass through these sheets."

"Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not making fun of you. It's cute, actually. It even makes me feel guilty," I murmured, smiling "For a second, I was afraid something had made you uncomfortable."

"No, it's not that."

I hesitated for a second whether I should suggest what was on my mind.

"We could do it like this. It doesn't bother me."

"It's not just about avoiding an unwanted pregnancy..." he began. At that moment, I saw him return to his usual nerdy mode. "Although, of course, that counts. But there are things like sexually transmitted infections, some of which don't even show symptoms at first and could complicate things if not detected on time. I know this doesn't sound very attractive, but believe me, protection isn't just for avoiding future problems; it's also to take care of you now, so you don't have issues later: because sometimes men can transmit diseases we're asymptomatic for, and to be honest, I've never done those kinds of tests. A lot of people don't think about it, but the risks are real. And don't get me wrong, I trust you, but even though you trust me, diseases don't discriminate. And I'd like us both to have that peace of mind. Prevention is never too much."

“You conflict me deeply. On the one hand, I admire how responsible you are; it's very cute. But on the other hand, I just urgently need you to fuck me deep and cum inside me”

Spencer was surprised by my desperate whining and tensed when I placed one of my legs around his waist, trying to persuade him. But I was even more surprised when I felt him pull completely away to stand beside the bed.

"Where are you going?"

"To the pharmacy," he announced, putting a jacket over his bare torso.

"Are you serious?" I laughed widely, sitting on the bed now that my companion had moved away.

"Definitely. I feel like I can't handle it any longer, it’s physically painful, and when you talk to me like that, it just drives me crazy” he groaned, joining in the fun. It was the first time something like this happened, and I honestly thought it was absolutely hilarious “I'll be back in a minute, I swear! Please, don't go...”

"I couldn't," I murmured sweetly. He came closer, and I took the opportunity to kiss him again "Be quick. I'll be waiting anxiously for you."

Something in my tone of voice affected the man, or maybe it was the wink I gave him, but I saw him bolt out the door. I flopped back onto the bed, taking a moment to digest what was happening.

I have to admit that my classmate had always been attractive to me, but I never thought he could feel the same way. Not even in my wildest dreams did I imagine that I would be waiting for him in his bed so that, with any luck, he could ravish me without holding back.

As I reached out my arms, I could feel the fabric of the shirt I had previously removed from him, and then I brought it up to my nose, inhaling without thinking. A familiar scent hit me immediately: the mix of sweet cocktails he had drank during the party and a subtle trace of cannabis, as if the night was still impregnated in him. I could distinguish a hint of wood, perhaps from the furniture in the place, combined with a light scent of sweat that was not bothersome, but rather natural. And then, among all that, there was his perfume: a citrus and spicy aroma that evoked something fresh, but also deep, sensual, as if every molecule of his being was waiting for something more. I breathed harder, feeling that this aroma, this moment, defined him.

I didn't know why that particular night my whole body was screaming for his closeness. I was crazy about him and it wasn't the alcohol's fault, because I'd had too many drinks to know. Neither of us had ever done drugs and for a moment I was terrified by the idea that I could want to be with someone like that, with such fervor that it was worrying.

Still dizzy from the excitement of the moment, I lowered one of my hands to my crotch to get rid of my panties. I thought about him, wondering how skilled he was. Not that I doubted his abilities, but just like I’d told him that night, he might need some practice.

I started to fantasize about helping him through this situation, maybe guiding him or pampering him by just asking him to lay back so I could do all the work. Spencer was the kind of man who invited you to please him, the kind of man you wanted to satisfy because he never pressured you into it.

Playing with myself, I sniffed his shirt again, desperately wishing I could have the source of said scent with me, until my brain was filled only with daydreams in which he was the protagonist and my fingers were replaced by his. That's why I didn't notice when he opened the apartment. And that's why I didn't know he was watching me from the door frame until I heard him let out a ragged sigh.

Being caught in that position made me feel embarrassed at first, but the way he practically lunged at me and kissed me more decisively than before, I figured he liked seeing me like that.

"Busy?"

I was caught off guard by his sassiness and I knew he was proud of it by the smile I felt on my neck.

“I guess you found what we need, right?”

“Uh-huh”

“Have you read any books on female anatomy?”

“Quite a few”

“So I guess you know a lot about sexuality, don’t you?”

“In theory, yes. Unfortunately, I haven’t had many opportunities to put it into practice.”

A smile spread across my face, which luckily he couldn't see because he was too busy leaving a trail of kisses along the top of my torso.

“How unfortunate, considering you’re a scientist. I wouldn’t mind becoming an object of your study, though, you know?”

He subtly slid the straps of my dress and revealed my bra, from which a considerable part of my boobs protruded, which he happily kissed.

At the same time his hand came down to caress me, making me shiver with anticipation, resting on just the right spots. It was the least I could expect from such an intellectual man, one who definitely knew about the thousands of nerve endings concentrated in my clitoris, which he was definitely tapping into to satisfy me.

“May I?” he whispered, looking at the little underwear he still had on.

I nodded immediately and arched my back to make it easier for him to unbutton it, which didn't take too long. He was practically worshipping every inch of my skin, which, combined with his gentle yet firm fingers rubbing me, was driving me crazy.

We both moaned in unison as he pushed a finger into me. It felt just as good as I had imagined.

I had read somewhere that, physiologically, women need more time to achieve an orgasm and although none of my exes had cared about that, this one seemed to know that fact. Maybe that was why he was giving me such attention, which I was undoubtedly grateful for.

“Honey…” I choked out “you’re doing great, really, really good, but would you mind if we replaced those fingers? I want to feel you inside me,” I practically begged.

I never begged, I felt like a fool doing it, but if that got me the intensity of the kiss he gave me, I wouldn't mind starting to do it.

Spencer pulled away from me, searching for the packet of condoms he'd run off to get, and while he unbuttoned his pants I got rid of my dress, which by this point was just a mass of fabric around my waist.

My body wasn't perfect, but I figured that wouldn't matter to him. Besides, I doubt he'd be rude enough to mention it.

“Need a hand?” I joked playfully, noticing that he was struggling to open the silver package.

“I’m sorry, I’m just a little nervous,” he said to himself, hoping I wouldn’t mind too much.

I wanted to reward him for treating me so well a few moments ago and I took the package from his hands, placing my palm on his chest until I laid him down against the mattress. Once in that position it wasn't difficult to get rid of the wrapping to place the piece of latex on him, thinking that I didn't have a single complaint about his body.

My hands on him made him nervous and I watched him turn into a mess as I began pumping his cock up and down to make sure he had the condom on properly.

“You don’t have to hold back. I like the sounds you make,” I exclaimed in a velvety tone, trying to sound as genuine as possible “That way I know you’re enjoying it.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to hold out for much longer,” he confessed, as my hand continued to move along his length. Although I wished I could take better care of him, I understood the situation.

“Your wish is my command”

He didn't complain when I put each leg on his sides and he bravely hardened as I teased him for a moment before sinking my pussy onto his dick. I started slow, trying to make him last as long as possible, but with each second it was getting harder to keep up a pace.

I tried my best to ride him, trying to give him the best experience as a thank you for all his hospitality. And from the whimpers coming out of his throat I assume I was doing my job well.

At some point his hands ended up on my hips, guiding me as he pleased. Sometimes he pushed me down, as if he wanted to get to the bottom of me, and other times he manipulated me so that the thrusts were fast.

He wasn't lying when he said he would cum in no time, as the repressed desire added to the previous sexual actions had him on the edge of the abyss. I knew he had reached orgasm when he closed his eyes and his hips slammed against me, in erratic movements.

I kept riding him a little longer, chasing my own climax, and when I got it I put my hands against his chest, arching in pleasure. Spencer, breathing heavily, grabbed my wrists in his hands and then pulled me so that I was against his torso, my lips too close to his.

He placed his palm on my cheek and pulled me in his direction, seemingly asking for a kiss. I granted it.

“Are you satisfied?”

“I am,” I sighed wryly. It was cute that he didn’t know that sometimes girls don’t even make it. “How was it for you?”

“I'm speechless.”

I laughed and, to a certain extent, felt flattered that I had left a man who knew a million ways to express himself in that state.

We enjoyed the high we had just had for a few minutes and waited for our breathing to slow down; when our sighs took the same rhythm, he spoke again.

“You should go to the bathroom. It’s, uh… healthy for you to do it after every encounter.”

I reached for the garment he had been wearing and, trying to protect myself from the cold air, I put it on over myself.

“Do you mind lending it to me?”

“Nu-huh,” he hummed, eyeing me as if I were a cupcake. I would later learn how affected he was to see me using his clothes to slide out of bed.

When I came out of the bathroom he already had his boxers on, probably wanting to maintain modesty, and when he went to attend to his needs I also looked for my panties. It wasn't long before he returned to keep me company.

“Do you want to cuddle? I’d feel like a whore if I just left”

“Yes, of course I want”

He made sure to throw anything that was on the bed onto the floor and patted the pillows to make them more comfortable. I settled into the space next to him, leaning against his chest, right at heart level.

One of his arms was holding me from behind and in some strange way that made me feel safe; protected.

“Your feet are frozen, are you cold?”

"Not much"

“Do you want me to get you some socks?”

“I’m fine, Spencer,” I laughed softly. I brushed my cheek against his skin and tried to snuggle closer to him. “It’ll just get colder if you leave.”

“Did you know that the human body is incredibly efficient at maintaining its temperature? When two bodies are nearby, like… now,” he paused, settling a little closer to me, “heat transfer occurs due to thermal radiation and direct conduction. Essentially, each body generates heat that helps the other maintain a stable core temperature.”

“So you’re like a human blanket”

“That’s right. In fact, in situations of severe hypothermia, sharing body heat in this way can literally save lives.”

I raised my head to look at him and noticed an excited gleam in his eyes, the one he always had when he shared something from his vast knowledge.

“I’ve been thinking quite a bit about what you said earlier, about female anatomy,” seeing him frown, I continued, “No field of study considers one experimentation enough, right? Everything needs to be replicated two, three, four times. Ten times if necessary.”

“Your guess is quite accurate.”

“Say no more. We must give everything if it is in the name of science”

From the smile on his face, I knew that my joke had pleased him and that my proposal seemed to please him. To seal the deal I reached up and kissed him softly. We remained silent for a while, him caressing me over his own shirt and me enjoying the closeness.

“I like you a lot”

“I had a feeling,” I teased, earning a soft laugh from him “I really like you, too."

He pressed a kiss to my forehead and for some stupid reason a blush crept up my cheeks, even though we had just had sex. I carefully placed myself on top of his body and buried my face in his neck, feeling him hug me around the waist.

It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, I could tell by how calm his breathing was becoming, and I tried to enjoy the peace he emanated a little longer, until, eventually, Morpheus picked me up in his arms too.

@spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @shuichiakainx @gghostwriter @cafters @weallhaveadestiny @your-left-sock @jaeminsmilk @tmrs-basilisk @kristennotstewart @lostinwonderland314 @f4tpo3s @lortheswiftie @dark-unicorn222 @samsienichole @blackholegladiator @gretaandthatsit @cherrysprlte @halfbloodwriter @piercethefic @reidingandallthat @ariel-23-19 @zorrasucia @ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat @juluina @kylakins88 @tinainaction @sadroses98 @dumbbunnys-safes @bowerfeithwk @freyafriggafrey

Thank you very much for your interest! I hope you liked it, if you feel like it, let me know what you think :)

[manebioniclegali]

Yeah, pretty much. Cohesiveness steadily dropped off after phase 2 and became more abrupt in phase 3 (aside from TR, the difference between Civil War Peter and Homecoming Peter is pretty noticable), and even that phase 2 had issues here and there (although none that I can remember, since I haven't watched any of those movies probably since they came out, with the exception of various TDW scenes since I follow so many Loki/Tom blogs)

I'm thinking Feige is ultimately not concerned with planning every little thing out, which causes a lot of things to fall by the wayside.

°•°•°•°•°•

Hi. 2025 me here. I started writing this is 2019 immediately after your other reply, and now it DEFINITELY is apparent that Feige doesn't care about planning and cohesion anymore. The entire MCU is falling apart because they want to browbeat details and things that they want without regard to the story as a whole. Introducing new characters and places and abilities aren't the problem, it's the execution, and the execution has been lacking.

And now we're even at the point where putting in pandering isn't helping much, and they can't really rely on fandom hype anymore when they've lost so much good will. It's really funny (not in a haha way) that we could kinda see the writing on the wall throughout some of phase 3, and especially with Endgame, but a majority of people didn't recognize it until recently. The MCU really should have had a final story meeting, then ended while they were on top, because what they've done is, as a whole, not great.

“Tony deserved a happy ending, he was finally living a good life.”

“They completely destroyed Steve and his development. He would never do that.”

“They ruined Thor and his entire arc as well, turned him into a joke. His development? Gone.”

“Nat deserved way better and she didn’t even get a proper burial.”

Now you know how every single Loki stan feels.

[madebycloud]

pt 2 | Not Even at All

jinx/powder x female reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: vi is off limits until her sister gets a date that doesn't end within the first ten minutes. eager to date vi, a certain girl approaches you with a proposal. date jinx. win her over. and for your efforts, she's willing to be generous. (10 Things I Hate About You AU) warnings/themes: fluff and slight angst, kinda enemies to what, one sided fake dating, highschool, modern au, parties, drinking & vomiting (jinx), kat!jinx, patrick!reader words: 4.8k notes: R wears combats boots for the plot... — ✩ part one, part two, part three, part four, part five

Mrs. Kiramman escorts you out of her office, clicking her tongue. “I thought we agreed that you wouldn't show your face here for at least a week.”

“Guess I just couldn't stay away from you, Mrs. K.”

Jinx stands outside the guidance office, waiting for her turn. When the door opens, her gaze lifts, landing on you. One arm folded over her chest, a lollipop sticks out of her mouth, which she's quietly sucking on.

Mrs. Kiramman glances between you and Jinx, her eyes narrowing under her glasses. “You two know each other?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Mrs. K shakes her head before grabbing Jinx's elbow and shoving her into the guidance office, spinning around to point a finger at you. “For the love of God, stay away from her. If you two ever decide to have children, we'll have an evil incarnate walking around school.”

With a sigh, Mrs. Kiramman closes the office door, the sound of the latch shutting ringing through the hallway, leaving you alone. You glance through the glass window, catching Jinx giving you the middle finger.

You chuckle and blow her a kiss, not missing the way her jaw clenches.

—

You knock three times on the door, looking behind your shoulder as you wait. Footsteps approach, and you’re about to be greeted—

And a pink-haired girl opens the door.

“Who are you?” Vi asks, looking you up and down. You open your mouth to introduce yourself, but Vi cuts you off before you can get a word out. “Hold up, I think I recognize you.” She snaps her fingers, pointing straight at you. “You're one of Caitlyn's friends, aren't ya?”

You nod. “Yes,” you reply, with a gulp.

“So, what are you doin' here?”

You give a shrug. “I'm here for Jinx.”

Vi snorts. “Hah, figures.” She looks up, calling out behind her shoulder. “Jinx!” she yells. “Someone's here for you!”

You hear some shuffling above, and then the sound of footsteps stomping down the stairs.

Vi turns back to you, raising an eyebrow. “Sooo, are you and…”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Jinx interrupts, appearing behind Vi's shoulder. Vi just snorts again at her sister.

“Nine-thirty right? I'm early.” You grin, but it is wiped out by Jinx's groan.

“You're going to Caitlyn's?” Vi asks, turning to look at her younger sister.

Jinx shakes her head hastily. “No-”

“Aw, come on. Your friend came all the way here for you.”

Jinx grits her teeth. “She's not even my-”

“Please?” Vi grins, looping an arm around her sister's shoulder. “Besides, I'll go to the party anyway.”

Jinx crosses her arms. “Seriously?”

“Pleeeeease,” Vi pleads. “You know how boring I get when I have to go somewhere alone.”

Jinx looks at you before dropping her arms to her sides. “Fine. You owe me.”

Vi smirks, ruffling her sister's hair and earning a glare in return. “See? she said yes.”

“I said fine.” She scowls and turns away. “Let me get ready first,” she grumbles, disappearing upstairs.

“Don't take too long!” Vi calls after her.

Jinx's only response is a door slamming shut from upstairs.

Vi rolls her eyes before turning to regard you. “Sorry 'bout that. She's a bit of a handful.” She scratches the back of her head awkwardly. “She'll come around. She's always hated Cait for some reason, but she'll come around.”

Upstairs, you can hear muffled curses and sounds of thudding and banging coming from Jinx’s room. From the sound of it, her room is now a total disaster… not that it wasn't before.

“It's fine. It's not like it's your fault.”

“Still, she could be a little more… pleasant,” Vi mutters, leaning against the doorframe. “She wouldn't want anything to do with Caitlyn,” she continues. “Whenever Cait visited, she would hide in her room until she left.” Vi sighs, rubbing her face. “Even when Cait was just mentioned, she would roll her eyes and throw stuff at me.”

“Do you know what she has against Cait?” you ask.

“Not a damn clue,” Vi grumbles. “Caitlyn's never done anything to Jinx, as far as I'm aware. The hostility comes from Jinx's end.”

Jinx's door slams open upstairs, and stomping footsteps can be heard heading back down the stairs. 

She’s no longer dressed casually in sweatpants and a band shirt, instead wearing a black pleated skirt with a studded belt snaking around her waist, ripped fishnet tights covering her legs, and ending at her combat boots with the laces loosely tied. Her cropped tank top shows off her stomach, a leather jacket hung over her shoulders, and multiple leather bracelets and necklaces. Her eyes have smudged eyeliner, and her lips are painted with dark lipstick. 

This is far different than the normal Jinx you’re used to seeing at school all the time. Seeing her dressed up and looking like that was…

Damn. Damn.

You realize you’ve said something.

Then you realize you've said something out loud.

“Damn…” Vi repeats, taking a glance at her younger sister. “You look good!”

Jinx grunts, snatching her car keys and heading for the door. “Whatever. I'm driving.”

—

The Kirammans' house is like a beehive of activity. A full-blown party for all of Caitlyn's friends from her college. If Mrs. K found out about this, she'll be pissed as hell. Thankfully she's out of the house—otherwise you'll be kicked out before the party even properly begins.

Inside the house, there's a crowd of college students, probably twenty of them, maybe more. The only people from high school were you and Jinx.

Vi turns towards you, leaning in to speak in your ear over the loud music. “I'll go find Cait.”

You nod back, watching as she disappears into the crowd.

Jinx heads up the stairs towards the balcony, pushing her way past the numerous students.

There are about seven college couples making out on the steps and the walls of the hallway leading to the balcony. What the hell were they putting in the drinks here?

You try to follow behind, but it’s difficult to keep up with her in the crowded staircase.

A very, very drunk woman rushes up to you out of nowhere, her cheeks flushed red and her eyes glassy. She throws her arms around you with a sloppy grin on her face. “Kiss me!” she exclaims, stumbling and bumping into you.

“Nah, not tonight,” you laugh awkwardly, pushing her into the lap of some lonely guy sitting in a chair who blushes at her. “Kiss him,” you instruct, making a shooing motion with your hands.

She giggles, turns to him, and then begins smothering him with sloppy kisses, her drunk hands clumsily pawing at his clothes.

“T-thanks,” the guy stutters, grinning at you over the drunk girl's shoulder as she begins showering the side of his neck with sloppy kisses.

You grimace, turning away to look at where Jinx was standing a few seconds ago.

Oh, crap.

She's gone.

—

“Jinx!” Caitlyn grins, approaching her as she walks past. Her cheeks are rosy and her eyes glassy.

Jinx groans.

Caitlyn's eyes flash, taking in Jinx’s outfit. “Looking good!” she says, clearly trying to be nice. She looks around, searching for any sign of her sister. “Where's Vi?” she asks, her eyes scanning the dancing students.

Jinx smirks. “Hell if I know. Off trying to hook up with someone, probably,” she jokes, snickering to herself.

Caitlyn's smile drops instantly. Her eyes narrow, and her shoulders tense. “What's wrong with you?” she mutters, bumping her shoulder roughly against Jinx on her way out.

Jinx stumbles, nearly losing her balance. She quickly turns, watching as Caitlyn storms off. “What the hell crawled up her ass and died?” she says to herself, frown pulling at the corners of her mouth. She brushes off the shoulder that took the hit, then heads back into the living room.

—

The party is loud, cramped, and way too hot. People kept running into you. Spilling drinks that reeked of alcohol all over your clothes. Not to mention the fact that a lot of them kept getting too flirty for your taste. 

Finally, you manage to spot her in the living room, chugging down a glass of amber-colored liquid into her mouth.

“Right on, sister!” says the guy who gave her the glass, giving Jinx a high-five and then disappearing into the sea of people.

Before she can take another sip, you snatch the half-empty glass from her fingers before she can finish it. “What's this?” you ask. “I've been looking for you everywhere.”

“I'm getting trashed, maaaaan,” she mocks, smiling lazily at you. “Isn't that what you're supposed to do at a party?”

“I dunno. I say do what you wanna do.”

“Funny, you're the only one,” she replies with a scoff, pushing her way through the crowd of loud strangers. “Later.”

She's gone before you can even respond. You swear you can still hear the sound of her muttering and grumbling to herself, but it's completely drowned out by the loud music and drunken yelling.

It's honestly annoying how many people there are, most of whom are completely drunk and high out of their minds, bumping into you like a bunch of toddlers and spilling their disgusting alcohol all over you as you try to squeeze through them.

This party sucks.

—

You pass by the same drunk girl and the guy from earlier, who are still feverishly sucking face. The guy grabs your clothes, stopping you from walking away. “Really,” he says between sloppy kisses. “Really! Thank you!”

You roll your eyes and give him a pat on the shoulder before wrenching yourself free from his grip, continuing your way through the horde of drunk students.

You made your way down the stairs, hoping to find Jinx to be less drunk and more coherent, and you wouldn't have to deal with the crowd of idiots and drunk frat boys upstairs.

Of course, your hopes were quickly dashed when you saw Jinx swaying back and forth on her feet, her hand gripping a fresh shot of god-knows-what.

“Hey, why don't you let me have this one, huh?” You grab the glass to try and pry it out of her tight grip.

“No! This one's mine.” Jinx clenches her grip on the glass and scowls at you, refusing to let it go. “Find your own.”

You manage to take the glass from her, and she lets out a sigh before stomping off. You try to follow after Jinx when suddenly, a strong hand grabs you by the shoulder.

“Where's Caitlyn?!” Vi yells over the blaring music.

“I don't know!” you yell back, just as loud.

The crowd in the next room suddenly goes wild when someone turns on the radio and blasts it at an eardrum-rupturing volume.

You and Vi glance at each other before turning to look at Jinx dancing on a table in the next room. Her leather jacket has fallen away, exposing her stomach and arms, leaving her in just a cropped tank top.

Her braids slap against her back, sticking to her skin from all the sweat. She swings her hips back and forth and twirls her arms in random movements. The crowd cheers, and a group forms a circle around her table, clapping and laughing wildly.

“Jesus,” Vi mutters, her eyes wide. “I didn't think Jinx could dance like that.”

Jinx is completely drunk, absolutely drunk. She has her eyes closed, oblivious to the attention and the amount of alcohol running through her system.

You push a few people out of the way as you get closer.

Her body moves on its own, to the music, to the beat. Her hands travel up her body and into her hair, her skin slick with sweat.

She spins her head around, and BANG.

She headbutts a chandelier hanging on the ceiling.

You watch as her body sways and her eyes roll back in her head. Before she can fall, you manage to catch her just in time.

The drunken and rowdy crowd starts to cheer and clap, thinking that this is all part of her drunken show.

You set Jinx down on her feet, your hands grasping her arms tight to keep her steady. “Are you okay?”

She groans and opens her eyes, looking up at you through half-lidded eyes. “I'm fine.” She tries to pull away from you, trying to swat your hands from her arms, but as soon as she tries to walk on her own, she stumbles on her own feet. You grab her again, holding her steady.

“You're not fine. C'mon.” You sling her right arm over your shoulders, wrapping your arm around her waist as you guide her down the hall.

“I jussssta needa lie down somewhere,” she slurs, leaning heavily against your side.

“The minute you lie down, you'll be passed out,” you respond as you keep her moving. 

“I know, just let me go to sleep. Sleep is good. Good, good, good.”

“Yeah, well, not if you have a concussion,” you retort, grabbing her tighter around the waist to make sure she doesn't just fall face-first onto the floor.

“Okay, I'll just… sit on the floor,” Jinx mumbles, trying to plop down onto the ground right in the middle of the hallway.

“Nooooo, we're not doing that.” You grab her by the arms, hauling her back up to her feet.

“But I'm tired. I'm sleepy. So sleepy.”

“I know.” You guide her to the garden, where you manage to find a bench. You help her sit down, keeping your arm around her side in case she accidentally tips over. “Come on,” you say, slowly lowering her down. “Lean back, lean back. There you go. Just... keep your head up. Hold your head up.”

Jinx reaches up and touches the spot where she hit her head earlier, wincing as her fingers touch the lump that's already starting to form.

You're just starting to kneel down in front of Jinx when suddenly, a hand grabs your arm. Glancing over your shoulder, you see Caitlyn standing behind you.

“We need to talk,” she says, sounding strangely urgent.

“Right now?” You look back at Jinx, who is still slumped against the bench, one hand on her head while the other is propped up on her knee. “I have my hands full at the moment.”

“Can you give me a second?” she insists, pulling you further away to the side. She lets go of your arm and runs a hand through her hair. “It's off. The deal is off.”

“What are you talking about?”

Caitlyn sighs. “Vi never wanted me, okay? she's... she's got eyes for someone else. I know it.”

You have neither the time nor the patience for this. You glance back to check on Jinx. She's starting to drift off to sleep, her chin dropping down towards her chest, before a sharp shake of her head brings her back to alertness.

“Cait,” you start, turning back to Caitlyn. “Do you like her or not?”

Caitlyn nods, looking down at her feet. “Yeah…”

“Then is she worth all this trouble?”

She hesitates. “Well, I thought she was, but...but I....”

You cut her off before she can finish. “She is or isn't. See, first of all, are you going to give up on her over a bit of competition? And secondly,” you poke her on the chest with your index finger. “Don't ever let anyone, ever, make you think you don't deserve what you want. If you want her, then go for it.” Then, you turn away from Caitlyn. “I gotta go.”

Jinx starts to fall off the bench, and you quickly catch her before she face-plants on the ground. “Okay, that's it,” you murmur to yourself as you hoist her up and begin walking away.

—

You march Jinx through the streets, her arm around your shoulder to keep her from falling over.

“Ughhhh.” She groans. “This is so patronizing.”

“Leave it to you to use big words when you're shitfaced.”

She shoves you, trying to walk on her own. “I don't think so.” Unsurprisingly, she falls to the ground.

You reach down and try to bring her back to her feet, pulling her up the small hill until you reach the playground outside of Caitlyn's house.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me?” Jinx asks, leaning against you for support.

“I already told you.” You lift her arm a little higher up onto your shoulder. “You might have a concussion.”

Jinx breaks free of your grip and walks a few steps forward. You keep a close eye on her and continue to walk at her side, making sure to be within arm's reach in case she trips and falls.

“You don't care if I never wake up,” she mumbles, stumbling over her own feet.

You chuckle, catching her from falling. “Sure, I do.”

The two of you reach a pair of swings, surrounded on all sides by thick vines.

She stops in front of the swings, turning to face you. “Why?”

You take her hands in yours, keeping her straight and steady. “Because then I'd have to start dating girls who actually like me.”

“Yeah, like you could find one."

“See that, there?” You gesture with one hand to Jinx. “Who needs affection when I have blind hatred?”

“I hate you.”

“I hate you too.”

She rolls her eyes and sighs. “I just... I wanna sit down for a while.”

“Alright.” You lead her over to the swingset and sit her down in one of the swings, guiding her hands to hold onto the metal chains. “Don't fall off.”

She grins, her eyes locking onto yours.

And then, she suddenly falls backward, only to be caught, again.

“Jesus,” you mutter, propping her back upright. 

Jinx chuckles but doesn't say anything.

You move to sit on the swing beside her, the two of you swinging back and forth. The chains of the swing creak awkwardly. “So…” you start. “Why do you hate her?”

“Who?”

“Caitlyn.”

Jinx's face wrinkles up, and she frowns, glaring straight ahead. “I hate her.”

You nod. “I know. You don't look like the type to chug shots of tequila. Must be serious.”

She turns to throw you a glare. “Hey, I can be 'cool.' I can be 'laid back' like everyone else.” She snickers, half to herself. “You don't think I've got it in me?”

“Thought you were too good for that.”

“Well, you know what they say…”

“Nope. What do they say?”

You turn, only to find Jinx fast asleep, her head resting against the swing's rusty chains.

“Shiiiiiit!” You spring out of the swing and rush towards her. “No, no, no, no! Jinx! C'mon, wake up!” You kneel down, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells!” you sing loudly, patting the side of her face.

Her eyelids flutter as she responds to the sound of your voice, slowly and groggily blinking her eyes open.

You exhale, feeling your shoulders relax. You stand up at your full height, releasing your hands from her shoulders. “Thank fuck.” You sigh, looking down at her.

Her gaze lingers on you, her mouth slightly agape. “Hey…” she murmurs. “Your eyes are pretty.”

...

What?

Jinx just... complimented you?

You're floating up into cloud nine—no, no. This has to be some kind of trick.

But... that smile on her face. An unfamiliar, genuine smile. You're floating higher and higher, about to touch the clouds...

Jinx is actually complimenting you. Jinx is-

HRRRRRK!

HRRRRRK!

...and that's when the evil dragged you back to earth.

Your mouth turns down in a grimace, and you look down at your combat boots, which are now covered in a mixture of bile, alcohol, and... wait, is that bacon?

What. The. Hell.

“Oh for fuck's sake!” you exclaim, backing away to avoid the vomit. “Seriously? Seriously?” You shake your boots, splattering globs of puke onto the grass. “Did you have to urp puke on my boots?”

Jinx leans back against the swing, regaining her breath. “Sorry,” she mumbles, wiping her mouth with one hand. “I guess I should've said, 'Pretty. Pretty gross.'.”

You glare down at your boots—ruined, stained, and completely disgusting.

You shake your boots again, trying to get rid of as much of the gross liquid as you possibly can. “Damn it, Jinx!” you yell, kicking off your boots and standing barefoot in the grass. “These are my favorites!”

“Not anymore.”

“UGH!” you shout, throwing your hands up into the air. “I'M GOING TO CURSE YOU, CAIT!” You look up at the sky, yelling at the moon, the stars, and whatever god might be listening. “YOU HEAR ME, CAITLYN?! I'M GOING TO CURSE YOU FOR THIS!”

—

Caitlyn, the benevolent goddess from the heavens above, kindly let you borrow her shoes.

You, being the kind and humble person that you are, graciously accept her offer but insist that you would return the shoes back when you can. But she insisted back, saying that the shoes were your size after all, so you may keep them.

You thank Caitlyn once more before accepting your new pair of shoes, thanking the gods that you have such a generous friend.

Blessed be Caitlyn Kiramman.

You now stand outside Caitlyn's house as the students who attended the party begin to drive away or head home. Jinx is currently in the bathroom, washing herself up and preparing to leave.

Vi walks up beside you and speaks up. “Can you give Jinx a ride home?”

You look over at Vi, giving her a nod. “Yeah, sure thing.”

She gives you a tired smile, her lips red and swollen.

“Wait—you're not gonna come with us?”

She shakes her head, giving a vague gesture with her hand. “Nah, I'm gonna... hang out a bit more. I'll get a ride home later.”

You raise an eyebrow curiously but shrug. “Got it.”

“Well, I'll get going then.” Vi pats you on the shoulder before turning away and walking back towards the house. Then, just as suddenly, she stops and turns back to you with her finger pointed in your direction. “And don't you do something stupid to my sister.” 

You laugh it off. “Don't worry,” you reassure her. “I would never do anything stupid to Jinx. I'll make sure nothing bad happens, I promise.”

Her expression softens. “Good.” She gives you a pat on the back. “I know you're not a bad person. But I still gotta look out for my little sister, y'know?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “I get it.”

You watch as Vi turns around and walks into the house without another word, leaving you standing alone outside. You stand by yourself, watching the remaining people from the party head home one by one.

Suddenly, Jinx's voice snaps you to attention. “Let's go. I'm driving.”

Spinning around, you find Jinx standing behind you, and you frown. “Hell no. You're drunk. I'll drive.”

Jinx waves a hand dismissively. “Pssh, I'm fine. I can drive. I'm not that drunk.”

“Bullshit.” You open the passenger door, gesturing for her to get inside. “Get over here.”

Jinx groans but obliges, walking over to the passenger door. She reluctantly gets into the passenger seat. You head around to the driver's side and slide in, taking the car keys she hands you.

Starting the car, you take one last glance at her face before putting the car into gear and pulling away.

—

Jinx fiddles with the radio dial, flipping through various stations until she finds a song that suits her taste. But you quickly change it before she can get too comfortable.

“Hey!”

“I'm driving, so I get to pick the song.”

She scowls, reaching back to change it back to her preferred station. “It's my car.”

You reach over and change it back again. “And I'm in control of it.”

“But it's Letters to Cleo!” she protests. “I know you like them! I saw you there.”

You swallow hard, and with a sigh, you let her listen to her song. 

“So, tell me,” she says, turning to face you. “Where were you last year?”

“I was busy.”

She squints at you, her intoxicated brain trying to interpret your response. “Were you in jail?” she asks again.

“Maybe.”

“Pfft, no. You weren't.”

“Then why'd you ask?” you retort, shooting a side glare at her.

“Why'd you lie?”

You don't answer, instead grabbing the volume knob and cranking it up to keep her occupied. She starts to bob her head drunkenly, singing along to the lyrics like she's in a concert, headbanging wildly with a grin on her face.

Despite yourself, you find your fingers starting to tap against the steering wheel to the beat of the music.

“I should do this.”

“Do what?”

“This.” She points to the radio.

“Start a band?”

“No,” she replies, rolling her eyes. “Install car stereos.” She laughs, then sighs. “Of course, start a band, dumbass.”

“Why don't you, then?” you ask, keeping your eyes glued to the road.

“As if anyone would want to hear me play.”

“And why's that?”

“Everyone thinks I'm scary. No one would want to be in a band with the girl that makes all the other students crap their pants.”

You steal a sidelong glance in her direction. Right now, she is far from 'scary'. “I'm no picnic myself,” you reply, looking back at the road.

Jinx glances up at you, then laughs. “True. You're no walk in the park either.”

“Pot calling the kettle black, huh?”

She grins, leaning back in her seat. “Fair enough.”

You park the car in her driveway and shut off the engine. You can feel her gaze on the side of your face, and you look over at her. “What?”

“Nevermind,” she replies quickly, looking away. She bites her lower lip, trying to hide her smile. You catch her looking at you in the side-view mirror, but she quickly averts her gaze when you notice. There's a tint of pink in her cheeks... It wasn't there before.

You look away, focusing on the road.

Was that... a blush?

No way.

She's probably still feeling the effects of the alcohol. Don't overthink things, that's stupid, you tell yourself, ignoring how your own body starts to warm up.

“You know…” Her voice interrupts your thoughts, and you look over to see her fully facing you. You watch as she runs her tongue over her lower lip, the tip just barely touching the corner of her mouth. “...you're not as vile as I thought you were.”

Your eyebrows shot up at her words. Where is this coming from? “What changed your mind then?”

“Eh, you weren't bad company,” she says with a shrug. Her tongue darts out of the corner of her mouth again, her lower lip caught between her teeth.

You notice how... soft her mouth looks, even with her lips curled in a half-smirk.

Get it together.

You stare at her, your brain taking a second to process what she just said. Must be the alcohol talking.

She doesn't think you're good company for real, she's just saying random crap.

“Not bad, huh? and here I thought you hated my guts.”

“I did.” Her eyes dart down to your mouth for a second, almost too quick for you to notice. “Or at least I thought I did.”

It must be the alcohol.

It's definitely the alcohol.

Because there's no other reason for why she's leaning in, her eyes fluttering shut, lips parting slightly, moving closer and closer...

Wait, what.

She's...

There's no way she's actually leaning in right now...

She is.

She's leaning in.

You can feel her breath on your face, the smell of tequila mixing with the smell of her perfume. Your body is on fire. You're going to explode. You're going to combust.

Oh, hell no.

This is not happening. She's still tipsy.

This isn't right, this isn't right.

You forcibly tear your head away from hers, your stomach twisting. “Maybe we should do this another time.”

Her eyes snap open. She looks pissed. She looks like she's about to murder you, and honestly, right now, you'd let her. Her brow creases together, and she frowns, looking away. She mutters a few swear words before getting out of the car, shutting the door behind her with a bang that makes the whole car rattle.

She stomps up her driveway, disappearing through the front doorway as the door slams hard enough to nearly shake the glass window.

Your head is spinning.

 What just happened? how did things go tits up so quickly?

This is not what you signed up for. Five minutes ago, things were fine, then the mood suddenly shifted, and she was all up in your personal space.

And then things got all weird and awkward.

She's drunk. She'll forget this even happened, and everything will be fine.

Yeah, no biggie.

She'll probably wake up tomorrow morning with a hangover, but nothing else. Right? Right.

“Fuuuuuckk.”

taglist: @axolotl-arsonist, @crvcified-kinx, @axoluxy, @dyslexic-dreamer, @urdeadpoet, @iluvshifting, @shootingc, @freementallyillkid, @tr3nzit444s, @powderbomb-jinxed, @chickennuggetsaresootasty

[acesofspadess]

Track Walk

landoscar x content creator!reader

part 1

series summary: You were invited to the Miami GP for your Track Walk series on social media, what follows after you run into a certain Papaya boy, no one could prepare you for...

series warnings: cursing, angst, smut, making out, mentions of people you may not like, mmf, threesome/throuple, if there is more let me know... ;)

a/n: this a long 4 part series, but the chapters will be released daily!! also... there is no hate to anyone mention in this story, it is a work of fiction and any hate towards the characters/people will be deleted.

Miami 2024 

“Hello lovely F1 fans!” You said to the camera you were holding quite close to your face, “We’ve got a bit of a different setting today, because we are at the…” You took the camera away from your face to show the full setting, “Miami GP!”

You were a small F1 content creator who had become known for your at home ‘track-walks’. Every Thursday you would walk around your neighbourhood or get on the treadmill and walk the length of the race circuit for the weekend.

“This is my first ever GP, as you all know, and I just can’t explain to you all how excited I am. A big thank you to Liquid IV for sponsoring this trip, and this video. We are starting at the P1 box, because obviously. We’ve got a total of 5.4 kilometers to walk, so let's get to it.”

Throughout the walk you filmed information on the track, the city, the race, and even some snippets of fans who happened to know who you were.You were doing a light run when at one point in the video you saw a group of papaya and flipped the camera at them and slowed to a light jog, “I think those are our papaya boys, if I’m not mistaken.” You whispered into the mic. As you jogged past them you looked up and saw it was just Lando with some of his team. 

“Good luck this weekend.” You called out as you surpassed them. “Cheers!” Lando called out with a small smile. You smiled back and continued with your jog and video. “Meeting Lando Norris, can check that off the bucket list.” You laughed softly to the camera. When you made it back to the P1 box you started to end the video. “Well that was so much fun, thank you again to Liquid IV for bringing me out here. Cheers to a hopefully amazing weekend.”

An amazing weekend it was indeed. That Sunday you watched Lando Norris get his maiden win. It was safe to say you were crying in the VIP box as he crossed the line. That night you went back to the hotel with endless happiness, your life couldn’t get any better. Or so you thought.

You woke up that morning to your phone buzzing relentlessly. Every two seconds it felt like someone was liking, commenting, and following you. You sat up in shock logging into tiktok to see that your most recent track walk video had jumped from a few thousand views and likes, to millions of each, and your follower count was soaring as well.

You went through some of the comments laughing at them saying this was your first grand prix and it was the best one ever. Some said you wishing him luck was the reason he won and you replied to those comments teasingly.

It was a few hours later when you were getting ready to head back home that you saw the best notifications. 

Lando Norris liked your video

Lando Norris commented on your video

You were thoroughly freaking out. You opened tiktok for the hundredth time that day to see if your eyes were deceiving you, they were not.

Lando Norris: "Maybe this was my lucky charm. Thanks for the good vibes! 🧡"

You screamed in the comfort of your hotel room as you read it, replying back.

“I’ll need to come to a lot more races this season if this is the outcome. Congratulations! 🧡”

Hungary 2024

A few weeks had passed since Miami and everything that came with it. You still continued on your content journey with track walks and other videos with your new following. “Hello lovely F1 fans, old and new. We are here with another special edition track walk!” You cheered showing your surroundings. “I’ve been doing some overtime and made my way to the Hungaroring, so let’s go on a walk…” 

The walk itself went as normal, shared some info, showed the surroundings, and made it seem like a facetime time call. It was almost comical how when you were walking off the track you actually bumped into someone, that someone being Oscar Piastri. “I’m so sorry, I was not paying any attention.” You apologised immediately. He just chuckled, waving you off. “Don’t worry about it. Making a video?” He said looking at the camera. You nodded shyly. “Yeah another track walk.” He nodded at the information, slowly getting awkward. “Well, in true fashion. Good luck this weekend.” You bid and he thanked you with a chuckle.

Once again, it was a Mclaren win. This time, it was for Oscar. You were starting to go a little crazy. How was it that everytime you came to a race McLaren won? Again your video blew up, and like clock work, Oscar commented.

Oscar Piastri liked your video

Oscar Piastri commented on your video

You opened the video and tapped on the comments to see what he had put…

Oscar Piastri: Guess I owe you a huge thank you for the good luck wishes. Let's see if this works every time!”

You giggled lightly at the comment before writing a reply back…

“I’d go to every race if I could! Congratulations !!!”

Zandvoort 2024

Over the summer break you worked endlessly on your upcoming finals for your graduation in December. You were missing F1, and needed your fix. In a last ditch attempt at getting your best friend to come with you, you ended up back in Zandvoort.  “Hello F1 friends! We are here in Zandvoort, home of Max Verstappen. We’ve got lots of orange here so I’m just going to say everyone is in papaya.” 

There was no meeting on track this go around, but that night just as you were getting ready to call it, you got a DM from McLaren. You thought it was just a community thing and glanced at it, but when you saw your name, you sat up quickly. You opened it with shaky hands and read the message:

“Hey Y/N!! Hope you're enjoying your weekend in Zandvoort so far! You’ve got a name here in McLaren and we want to invite you to spend the rest of the weekend with the team in the garage! If you send us a photo of yourself, we can get you your passes by morning! Just give us a call when you get there and let us take care of everything else.” 

It was safe to say you might be receiving a noise complaint from your neighbours. Immediately you grabbed your camera and turned it on. “Hi friends, I’m shaking right now,” you laughed in shock. “McLaren just invited me to their garage this weekend. What the fuck?!” You showed the camera your phone where the message was still up. “Your girl is going to the McLaren garage, which means vlog time.”

You cut the video there and replied to McLaren with immense gratitude and a photo.

Walking up to the paddock entrance you had phoned McLaren and let them know you were walking up. You saw someone in Papaya and they waved at you enthusiastically. She passed you your passes over the barrier so that you could scan in. “This is crazy.” You said while she laughed. “I run all the social media accounts, and when I saw your videos I just had to pull some strings for you. You’re genuine, we like that at McLaren.” She told you honestly and you smiled bashfully. “Thank you, that means a lot.”

She then gave you a run through of everything happening in the garage, in the hub, and in the paddock revolving McLaren. The paddock wasn’t new to you, but this whole experience was strange to you. “And then you have a scooter to get around as well. Just don’t hit anyone because papaya is an easy colour to notice.” You laughed with her knowing how true it was. “I’ll do my best.”

You bounced between sides all morning, watching the teams set up the car for Lando and Oscar. You loved both drivers equally, you would never be able to choose one. You were on Lando’s side not paying much attention to your surroundings when two bodies stood in front of you. You looked up to get out of the way when you saw Oscar and Lando. “Following us now?” Lando asked with a smile. “I should ask you the same thing.” You shot back and Oscar chuckled. “They told us this morning you would be here for the rest of the weekend. It’s nice to see you.” Lando nodded in agreement and smiled happily. “It was a last minute decision to come,” you told them, “and then I got invited into the garage, it’s definitely going to be a good weekend.” The three of you laughed softly knowing the hidden meaning. “Well I’m certainly looking forward to a win this weekend.” Oscar shared. “She was my lucky charm first.” Lando pointed out. “Don’t fight!” You laughed, “I’ll be cheering the both of you on, see?” You took off your hat to show the underside of the brim. Each side had a number on it. “I stitched two of them together.” You informed. “That’s actually really cool.” Oscar said, taking the hat for a closer look.

“Your nails! Osc look at them.” Lando said taking your hands in his and showing off your nails, one hand was dedicated to Lando and his famous helmet design, and the other side was Oscars helmet design with a croissant on the ring finger. “Very funny.” He said when he saw it. “It was this or a cat.” You shrugged and Lando laughed as Oscar shook his head.

“Boys!” The two drivers looked behind them to see the clock counting down. “I will not be the reason you two don’t win this weekend so do go.” You pushed them lightly. “Thank you for coming, we’ll chat again later.” Lando said, going in for a hug. “Of course, go top both practices.” You cheered as Oscar also gave you a hug before the both of them went to their respective sides of the garage.

f1gossipofficial 

liked by user4 and others

f1gossipofficial Who’s that? Today before FP1 both McLaren drivers were seen talking and hugging with someone in their garage. In a different view, we can see that the person is content creator Y/N L/N who has gone viral for being the duo’s ‘good luck charm’. The three seem to be very cosy considering they’ve never officially met. 

view comments

user4 THAT SHOULD BE ME

user5 she posted a mini vlog on her tiktok this morning! She said McLaren dm’ed her and asked for her to be in the garage

User9 awwe that’s so sweet of McLaren to do for her 

user6 something about her doesn’t seem right

user7 don’t start, she’s one of the nicest people I’ve seen on tiktok

user8 another McLaren win is incoming

The following two days of the weekend were spent filming and nerding out over being in the garage. Lando and Oscar of course got super busy over the following two days, but they still managed to give you a wave when they could. Watching the race from the garage and hearing the live feed, watching the pit crew get ready for the pit stops, the actual pit stops, it was beyond magical for you. And without fail, one of the boys won, this time in Lando’s favor by 20 seconds.

You got to celebrate with the team, some of them recognising you and saying you needed to be here more often. Days like this were what you dreamed for. In between the chaos, you never managed to say goodbye to the papaya drivers, but they did DM you.

Lando Norris has followed you

Oscar Piastri has followed you

You’ve been added to a groupchat with Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri

Your eyes almost flew out of your head when you saw the notifications. This wasn’t happening, you thought but you clicked on it anyway.

Lando Norris: We didn’t get the chance to say goodbye, but we just wanted to thank you for your support and coming to as many races as you can!

Oscar Piastri: Lando’s said it all, but hopefully you can come to another race soon, and we’ll try to win even if you can’t.

You laughed at the very opposite but almost the same message from each of them. Your hands were shaking as you replied back.

Y/N L/N: You were having too much fun celebrating the win! A big thank you to you guys as well for making it so easy to support a great team. Hopefully I can get to a race soon! If not I’ll be watching from home still cheering you guys on!

Oscar Piastri: you don’t have to be so formal 😂I feel like we can call you a friend if you keep helping us win

Lando Norris: what osc said, don’t be a stranger.

Y/N L/N: no need to bully me! You’re a-listers! How else was i supposed to respond

Lando Norris: OMG!!! I can’t believe you texted me!! You followed me too OMG OMG OMG. I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH 🧡🧡🥰🥰🥳🥳 ASGKWBEWOEHJ

Oscar Piastri: like that ^^

Y/N L/N: that’s what I’m doing on the inside lol, but i think I would block myself if I did actually typed that

Lando Norris: yeah it was a bit weird to type 😂

Oscar Piastri: great, now I have two of you

You tilted your head at the comment but shook it off. You were pretty similar to Lando on the goofy side of things.

Y/N L/N: Don’t worry Oscar, when I’m not on an adrenaline high like I am right now, I’m more like you than you think

Lando Norris: great, now there’s two of you

Oscar Piastri: i’ll have to see this in person then

Y/N L/N: is that an invite I’m hearing?

Lando Norris: sounds like it to me.

Oscar Piastri: it was indeed.

Y/N L/N: i’ll see what my work and class schedule looks like and I’ll get back to you on that offer. Graduation is soon so i’m balancing a lot of things

Lando Norris: its my offer too!!!!!!

Oscar Piastri: what do you go to school for?

Y/N L/N: noted Lando, and sports journalism, dream job is to work in F1.

Lando Norris: That’s mint! I think you’ll do good

Oscar Piastri: you’ve got a very warming personality that I’m sure all the drivers will like. If you ever need to practise, we’re here.

Lando Norris: If you twist my words I’ll know you did it

Oscar Piastri: Lando!

Y/N L/N: Lando!! 😭 I promise I won’t, this season especially really helped push me into this because I hate the way the media portrays two/three of the nicest people ever.

Lando Norris: i know we’re the two…but who’s three

Oscar Piastri: guess 🦁

Lando Norris: NOOOOOOOOO

Lando Norris: WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO MEEE

Oscar Piastri:  😂😂😂

Y/N L/N: IM SORRY!!! I CAN’T HELP IT!!

Y/N L/N: Oscar!! Why would you throw me under like that!!

Oscar Piastri: *this user is no longer available*

Lando Norris: invite has been taken back.

Y/N L/N: nooo!!! I’m sorry!!! OSCAR!!!!!

Oscar Piastri: *this user apologises for the chaos he has now unpacked*

Baku 2024

Within the three weeks that passed between Zandvoort and Baku, Oscar and Lando never stopped texting you. The three of you figured out you had a lot in common and clicked like magnets. Over that time, you had plenty of new followers and decided to do a Q&A on your tiktok.

“How am I able to go to so many GP’s? Are you a millionaire?” You laughed after reading the question. “I’m not a millionaire by any means. I saved up for about a little over a year, didn’t go out with friends unless it was a birthday, didn’t buy unnecessary stuff, just was really good with not spending so I could treat myself this year. I’m in my last months of uni, which I got a full scholarship for, so not having to worry about school costs is also a great help.”

“Have you spoken to Lando and Oscar since your time in the garage? They follow you now too.” You thought quickly about it, “I haven’t no,” oops. “They were just being polite and doing their jobs when they saw me in the garage. As for the following thing, I can’t tell you why they decided to do that, but I'm not complaining.” You chuckled.

“What are you studying in Uni?”

“I’m in my final months of my sports journalism major. That's why I’m a big fan of F1, but also F1 got me into journalism, it's a circle of interest.” You mimicked drawing a circle that never ends.

In those three weeks you had also moved your group chat out of Instagram.

Osco: Is it terrible to say I miss having you in the garage?

Landito: wow Osc, straight to the point

Osco: leave me alone

Y/N: if it's anything I miss being in the garage, but no it’s terrible

Landito: what he means to say is…. we miss seeing you in person

Osco: facetime isn’t enough

Osco: come to Baku?

Landito: we took back her invite remember?

Osco: you took back your invite…

Y/N: i’ll be there already

Landito: WAIT REALLY???

Osco: is this a prank?

Y/N: yes really

Y/N: and no not a prank

Osco: answer please

Your phone started ringing just as you read it. You were in no position to be facetiming two people you now had a crush on… yeah, that also happened over the three weeks. You tried to tell yourself they were just being nice and you were caught up, but the way they acted sometimes led you to believe otherwise.

“Why am I looking at the ceiling?” Lando pointed out. “Because I am in no way showing you what I look like right now.” You laughed at them. “Yes you are.” Oscar commented. “We facetimed you for a reason.”

“Face please.” Lando asked sweetly, and you rolled your eyes. There you were in your McLaren x Reiss jacket, curls thrown up into a mix of a bun and ponytail, and glasses over your eyes. “You wear glasses?!” Lando said peeking over Oscar’s shoulder. They were always together, you started to realise.

“Yes, Lando. I wear glasses.” You shook your head with a small smile. “Well, you look beautiful as always. What’s this about you coming to Baku and not telling us?” Oscar moved on swiftly. “It was supposed to be a surprise! I was-”

“Nope, if it’s a surprise we shall wait.” Oscar cut her off. “I don’t want to wait though.” Lando groaned from behind him. “It’s in 2 days, Lando.” Oscar said, looking at the head that was now on his shoulder. “2 days too long.” He mumbled. “I promise it’ll be worth it!”

And worth it it was. After your track walk, there you were, the media pen, questions about the upcoming weekend ready, with an F1 TV microphone in your hand. F1 had reached out to you after your Q&A video asking about your sports journalism career. One thing led to another and here you were.

“Hey Max, first things first, how are you feeling this weekend?” Max smiled. “I mean, I’m feeling fine, I definitely need to get in the car to see how we do on track. Not very well if you’re here though.” 

“You know who I am?” You asked in shock. “All other drivers hope you don’t make it to the races with the track record you have, but someone told me I was one of your favourites.” Of course they did. “Well they wouldn’t be lying.” You chuckled shyly. 

Max leaned on the gate as you got your questions ready. "This year has seen a shift in the competitive order with McLaren and Ferrari stepping up. You’ve still proven to be one of the best drivers this season and currently lead the Drivers' Championship, with Red Bull fighting to stay at the top in the Constructors’. With three titles already under your belt, how do you maintain focus when the dominance you’ve grown used to in both championships isn’t guaranteed anymore—especially heading into a high-risk, high-reward circuit like Baku, where unpredictability often plays a major role?"

Max seemed a little shocked with the question. “I mean…” You nodded along as he answered and when he finished and the camera was off he smiled. “Those were very good questions. I look forward to seeing you the rest of the weekend.” You smiled at him. “Thank you, it means a lot.”

You got similar style compliments from other drivers and when the papaya boys walked in and spotted you they both smiled but had to work their way down the pen. Oscar was the first to get to your station. A quick glance to his eyes showed the professionalism he was using to hide the sheer excitement at seeing you again. “Hey Oscar, you’re going into this weekend with a double podium from Monza, how are you preparing for this weekend to get the same results if not better?”

Oscar chuckled. “Well if you’re here then a McLaren win seems to be in the cards.” You shook your head at him as he smirked. “But…”

“Thank you Oscar, good luck this weekend.” Before he left he reached over the barrier to give you a quick hug. “Nice to see you again.” He said before walking off. Lando quickly took his position and gave you his eye-closing smile. “Hey you.” You chuckled, shaking your head. “Hey Lando, after the double podium in Monza, it’s clear that McLaren has made significant strides this season. With the Constructors' Championship in reach with just 11 points to Red Bull, how do you approach a circuit like Baku, where opportunities and risks are amplified? Do you feel this weekend could be pivotal in swinging the fight for the Constructors’ in McLaren’s favor against Ferrari as well?"

Lando tilted his head. “You’re one of the only people who’s brought Ferrari into the Constructors fight.” He pointed out and you shrugged lightly. “You’ve said before that Red Bull isn’t your competition, Ferrari is.”

Lando’s interview came and went just as quickly as Oscars and he too ended the interview with a hug. Charles and Carlos were just after and both of them mentioned knowing who you were and to take a stop at their garage.

The weekend went really well. Any free time you had was bouncing between garages and meeting new people. And like clock work, McLaren won the race, in Oscar’s favour. You were doing post race interviews and the wide smile on Oscar’s face when he saw you made your insides warm. “Please come to every race.” He joked and you laughed lightly. “Congratulations on your win today Oscar, after some very good fights with Charles…”

Because you had to go through every driver, and then got invited to talk about your experience on F1 TV-

“We are bringing on the voice you’ve heard all weekend, Y/N L/N.” Laura introduced as you walked into the middle of the group. “How are you?” She asked. “I’m doing really amazing. It’s been such a busy weekend for me, all thanks to you guys for inviting me and giving me some on the field action.”

Will Buxton spoke next. “You’ve become a big name here, everytime you come to a race, a McLaren driver wins. How is that even possible?”

You laughed alongside the rest of the panel. “I just put 50 kilos of extra weight in everyones car before the race this time. I think I’ll run the engine out next time though. Make everyone have grid-penalties.” You joked and they all laughed again. “It’s been so nice having you with us this weekend! We hope that you can join us again sometime soon!”

-you were able to stay much longer into the evening. Making your way to the McLaren garage you saw that they were prepping for a team photo and you quickly got your camera out to snap the moment for yourself. “No, you get in here too!” Zak yelled seeing you and the team cheered in agreement. You shook your hands not wanting to spoil it but then you were getting picked up from behind by a shoeless Lando and plopped right to Oscar.

Oscar placed an arm around you with a wide smile. “This is too much.” You told him. “Nope, it’s not.” He smiled again. You shook your head but smiled and cheered for the picture as well, and then the champagne. The team member next to you handed you their bottle with a wink at Oscar. Right as the photo ended you shook the bottle and made sure to douse Oscar as he tried to run away. Lando also joined you and the three of you were getting drenched in everyone else's champagne.

“There are two of you!” Oscar joked. “Yeah you might be right about that.” Lando laughed, clearing champagne from his eyes. “That was fun!” you laughed clinking Oscars champagne bottle. “You’ve got about 5 minutes before you start to smell.” He laughed and then your face fell. “I don’t have a change of clothes!” Lando laughed as you freaked out and Oscar just hugged you. “I’m sure we can find you something to wear.”

They did, you were wearing a team kit from their spare room in the hub. It was enough to get you to your hotel room. “Want to ride with us to the hotel?” Lando asked coming to walk with you as you reached the doors to walk out. “Yeah that sounds good.” He took your hand just as you were going to exit. “We have to wait for Oscar.” He said and you nodded and without letting go of your hand he dragged you back towards the main area.

“Did you enjoy your weekend?” He asked as you two leaned against a wall. “It was an amazing weekend.” You smiled giddily, closing your eyes. “I hope this doesn’t change that.” You opened your eyes to see Lando coming closer to you, eyes looking down at your lips. You nodded lightly and he closed the gap between your lips. His teeth nipped yours, with a sense of impatience. “Just couldn’t wait could you.” You broke away with his head resting against yours. Oscar. Why did you feel so guilty? “Oscar I-” He just shook his head with a laugh coming to your otherside. “I won, does that mean I get a kiss?” 

You looked at Lando who still had that dazed smile, then back to Oscar. “You didn’t tell her, did you?” He said and Lando shook his head. “We’re dating, now can I kiss you please?” He said quickly before taking your lips in his. His kiss was softer but still as impatient. “We’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He sighed when he pulled away. 

“Really?” You asked softly, hand coming to press against your tingling lips. “Yes, since we started texting you. Oscar and I just couldn’t get you out of our heads.” Lando said with a small smile. 

“I thought I was being delusional.” You chuckled softly. “Not at all.” Oscar's hand went to your hip softly squeezing. “Come to Singapore with us, please.” You looked at Lando who took your hand and held it in his own. “Please.” You nodded almost in a trance.

[insidekatmind]

Resistance~Hwang in-ho

Request: yes!

The room was enveloped in an almost oppressive silence, the sound of the participants’ breathing filling the air. Every bunk was occupied, except for one, that of Hwang In-ho, better known as Frontman. As player number 001, he had earned everyone’s trust, managing to manipulate his fellow players’ minds without anyone ever suspecting him. But there was one person who didn’t fall for his charm, who wasn’t fooled by his sweet words and calculated moves: you.

After the team game, in which many had lost their lives, you found yourself in the room, lying on your bunk, staring silently at the empty top bunk. The thought of what had just happened tormented you, but there was also something you couldn’t explain. You couldn’t understand how you were the only one who realized something was off with Frontman.

The others avoided you, not wanting to hear your theories. They still believed he was just another man, someone who had been lucky enough to survive the first game, someone who wouldn’t hurt anyone. But you, with a clarity that seemed out of place in such a context, had noticed too much.

And just as you were reflecting, the door to the room opened, breaking the silence as Frontman entered with his confident stride, as if he were at home. His presence exuded an unsettling calm, yet there was something in his eyes that betrayed his interest in you. He knew you were the only one who didn’t bend to his will. And for him, that was a challenge he couldn’t ignore.

He approached your bunk and stopped right in front of you. His voice, soft but firm, resonated in the air. "You know, it’s not easy being the only one to see the world for what it is. Most prefer to close their eyes and follow the current. But you… you’re different."

You stayed silent, still looking up. You could feel his attention on you, but you weren’t about to give in."It’s not about being different. It’s about seeing beyond appearances."

Frontman smiled slightly, as if he had finally found someone worth talking to. Then he sat on the bunk next to yours, gazing at you with a penetrating look."You have an interesting intuition. But you’re wrong if you think I’m like the others. I’m not here to play by the rules, those rules you’re trying to follow."

"And I don’t want to play this game anymore. I’ve seen too many things I don’t like. And you, Frontman, are one of those things." You said.

His smile widened, but not in anger. Instead, he seemed pleased, as though he had finally found someone who wasn’t easily swayed by his power. "You never should have come. But now that you’re here, you have the chance to understand what it really means to be here, in this game."

There was a long silence between us, where neither of us spoke, but we both understood we were operating on different levels. You were the only one who wouldn’t be manipulated, but he wasn’t going to let you slip away so easily.

"Why don’t you stay with me? We could be powerful together. I can give you what you want, what the others will never give you." In-ho said.

You knew exactly what he was trying to do. He was offering you power, an escape that sounded too tempting to be true. But you would never give in. Your resistance intrigued him more and more, and every attempt he made to get closer made the anger inside you grow, something you couldn’t ignore anymore.

"There’s nothing you can offer me that’s worth it. These games are your prison, and in the end, you’ll be trapped just like the others." you replied

In ho raised an eyebrow, visibly amused by your response. His smile was enigmatic, as though he was reflecting on something deeper."We’ll see how long you last. In the end, you’ll understand there’s no way out. You either bend, or you perish."

His gaze grew more intense, as though he wanted to engrave every word in my mind. But I wasn’t afraid. I wouldn’t give in.

And so, the tension between us remained suspended, like a tight rope ready to snap. I knew this was just the beginning.

[blakeswritingimagines]

Here For A Good Time

Summary: A birthday boy who lost a game but won a round.

Warnings: Birthday sex, Teasing, Riding, Mentions of reader being girlfriend but no real body mentions, Slight begging, Kissing, Mention of marking and biting, PWP, No protection, Mention of round 2.

Word Count: 3.1k

As Nico Hischier, captain of the New Jersey Devils, stepped onto the ice for his team's game against the San Jose Sharks on his birthday, he was filled with a mix of anticipation and excitement. He knew that his team was going to face a tough opponent, but he also knew that anything was possible on a special day like today. You were in the stands watching him play, cheering him on even though you were separated by distance. As the game went on, it quickly became apparent that the Sharks were dominating.

Nico nodded, grateful for your understanding and comforting presence. As you both walked out of the arena and towards the nearest bar, he realized that even though he hadn't won the game on his birthday, he was lucky to have someone like you by his side, willing to make sure that he still had a good night. "You know," he said as they settled down at a table in the bar, "I'm glad you're here with me. I don't know what I'd do without you." "Aw," you said, reaching over to squeeze his hand. "You'd manage. But I'm glad I can be here for you tonight." You lifted your glass, holding it out towards him. "To your birthday, even if the game didn't go the way you wanted it to." You spoke happily. "To my birthday," he echoed, clinking his glass against yours. "And to you, for being the best girlfriend a guy could ask for." As you sipped your drinks, the atmosphere between you loosened up a bit. By now, the earlier disappointment was already fading, replaced by the warm and fuzzy feeling of being in each other's company. "I have a surprise for you," you said suddenly, a mischievous gleam in your eyes. Nico cocked an eyebrow, intrigued. "A surprise? What kind of surprise?" "Well, win or lose, but since you didn't win the game tonight, I figured you deserved a little something special." You reached into your purse and pulled out a small, rectangular box, wrapped in silver wrapping paper. Nico's face lit up with curiosity as she slid the box across the table to him. "What is it?" he asked, picking it up and gently shaking it. "Open it and find out," you teased, watching him eagerly as he began to tear off the wrapping paper.

As the final buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the game, the Devils had unfortunately lost the match, with a final score of 2-3.

Nico's head hung low as he skated off the ice, clearly disappointed with the outcome. He had been hoping to win the game on his birthday, but unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be. As Nico emerged from the locker room, cleaned and dressed up after the game, he could see you waiting for him, a sympathetic look on your face. You knew how much he had been looking forward to the game, and you could tell that he was taking the loss hard. "Hey," you said softly, as he approached. "You okay?" Nico glanced up at you, his eyes still downcast. "I'm fine," he muttered. "Just…disappointed, I guess." You nodded softly. "I know," you replied, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "But it's just a game, you know. You did your best out there, and that's all that matters." You spoke with a smile up at him "I know," he said, nodding. "But it's my birthday. I was really hoping we could win tonight." You smiled sympathetically. "I know you were. But hey, we can still make the night special, right? We can still celebrate your birthday." You tried to lighten the mood. "Yeah," he said, a small smile finally appearing on his face. "Yeah, we can do that. I think I need a drink, though." "I figured you might," you said with a laugh. "Come on, let's head out to the bar and toast your birthday, even if it didn't go exactly how you wanted it to."

Nico peeled away the paper and opened the box to unveil its contents. Inside, nestled snugly in a bed of tissue paper, was a brand new watch, gleaming and sparkling in the dim light of the bar. "Wow," he breathed, picking up the watch and taking in its elegant design. "It's beautiful. But you didn't have to get me anything, you know." "I know," you said, smiling mischievously. "But I wanted to. Besides, it's not just any watch. It's a special watch with a secret surprise." Nico looked at the watch again, more closely this time. "A secret surprise?" he asked, turning it over in his hands. "What do you mean?" Playfully rolling your eyes as you spoke up. "Press the button on the side," you instructed, gesturing to the small, round button on the edge of the watch. Nico obeyed, pressing the button with his thumb. As he did, the face of the watch suddenly lit up, revealing a hidden digital display. On the display, the words "Happy Birthday Nico" appeared, spelled out in neon blue letters. Nico's mouth dropped open in surprise, his eyes wide with wonder. "Did you…?" he asked, looking up at you, incredulous. You grinned at him, clearly pleased with his reaction. "I know, I know, it's a little cheesy," you said, "But I thought it was pretty cool. And it's something you can wear all the time, to remind you of me and your special day…" Nico was speechless for a moment, his stunned expression slowly giving way to a soft smile of admiration. "It's amazing," he said finally, his voice thick with emotion. "I love it. And I love you." "I love you too, birthday boy," you replied, reaching out to take his hand. "And I'm glad I could make your night a little better, even if your team didn't win."

"You always make my nights better, even if we lose," he said, lifting your hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. "I don't know what I'd do without you, honestly." "You'd be just fine, I'm sure," you teased, taking a sip of your drink. "But I don't ever want to find out, for the record. I like being your girlfriend too much." Nico chuckled, feeling the tension and disappointment of the game slowly melt away. With her by his side, he felt invincible, like he could handle anything. "You're stuck with me, then," he said, squeezing her hand affectionately. Nico groaned as he collapsed onto the bed, still feeling the exhaustion from the game earlier in the night. "I can't believe I'm this tired," he mumbled, rolling onto his side to face you. You chuckled softly, rolling onto your side as well so that you were facing each other. "You played hard out there tonight," you said, tracing a lazy pattern on his bare chest with your fingers. "It's no wonder you're worn out." "Yeah, I guess so," he agreed, closing his eyes and savoring the feeling of your touch. "Still, I feel like I should be doing something to celebrate my birthday. Like, we should be out partying or something." You shook your head, smiling softly. "You've had enough for one day. You need to rest and recover. Besides," you added, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. "I have a little surprise for you, if you're up for it." That piqued his interest. His eyes flickered open and he looked at you with curiosity. "A surprise, hm? I thought the watch was my surprise." "Well, the watch was the first surprise," you said, continuing to trace patterns on his chest with your fingers. "But I have another one in mind for now." You leaned in closer, bringing your lips to his ear and whispering softly.

A shiver ran down Nico's spine as he felt your breath against his skin. "What kind of surprise?" he asked, his voice low and laced with anticipation. You pulled back slightly, a sly smile playing on your lips. "A very special kind of surprise," you murmured, your hand moving further down his chest, gently caressing the firm muscles underneath. Nico's breath hitched at the touch, his body already beginning to react to your touch. "You know you're driving me crazy, right?" he muttered, his voice rough with desire. "That's the idea," you teased, your hand still wandering over his body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. You leaned in to press a series of kisses along his jawline, nipping at his skin softly. Nico groaned, his head falling back against the pillows as he surrendered to the sensations your touch awakened in him. His hands came up to grip your hips, pulling you closer to him, a silent plea for more. You straddled his hips, grinding down against him as you continued to kiss and bite at his neck. Your hands roamed over his chest, fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, igniting a fire in his veins. "God, you're driving me insane," he breathed, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he lifted his hips to meet yours. The feel of your body grinding against his was driving him wild, and he could feel himself losing control. "That's the idea, birthday boy," you purred, moving your lips back to his ear. "Lose control for me. I like you like that." You nipped at the sensitive skin of his earlobe, eliciting a low moan from deep in his chest. Nico's mind was foggy with desire, his body responding to your every touch like a puppet on a string. Your words sent a jolt of electricity straight to his groin, and he could feel himself hardening against you. "You're killing me," he groaned, his hands roaming over your body, desperate to touch as much of you as possible. "But what a way to go, right?" you said, grinning as you felt the evidence of his arousal pressed against you. You moved down to his neck again, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin there, leaving behind a trail of love bites.

Nico's breathing became ragged, his body arching up off the bed as you continued to kiss, bite, and mark him. "I can't take much more," he gasped, his hands roaming up to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer. "Oh, I think you can handle a little more," you purred, pulling back to look at him. Your eyes were dark with desire, and you were clearly enjoying the power you held over him in this moment. Nico swallowed hard, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. "Don't tease me," he pleaded, his voice rough and strangled. "Please, I need you, I need you now…" Your eyes glinted as you looked down at him, taking in his disheveled appearance. "Oh, I see," you said, feigning innocence. "And what exactly do you need, hmm? Use your words, birthday boy." Nico groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. "You know exactly what I need," he said, his voice strained with desire. "You know what you're doing to me, and you're loving every second of it." "Maybe I am," you admitted, grinning as you watched him struggle to control himself. "But I like hearing you say it. I like watching you come undone at my touch." Nico's eyes locked with yours, his expression pleading. "You're going to be the death of me," he muttered. "But fine, I'll give you what you want. I need you, baby. I need you so badly it hurts. Now, please, no more teasing." You chuckled softly, your eyes softening at his admissions. "There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" you said, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. "And since you asked so nicely, I suppose I can give you what you want…" You shifted, positioning yourself over him, your breath mingling with his as you spoke against his lips. "Anything to make your birthday extra special," you murmured, leaning down to capture his mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. Nico's hands came up to frame your face, his fingers tangling in your hair as he returned the kiss desperately. His body was taut with anticipation, every nerve ending alive with electricity as he waited for you to make your next move.

You pulled back just enough to nip at his lower lip, before moving downwards to his neck, leaving a trail of kisses down his chest. Your hands roamed over his body, fingers dancing over his sensitive spots, causing him to shiver and buck beneath you. Nico's breath was coming in ragged gasps as you continued your ministrations, his body arching up off the bed to meet your touch. "God, you feel so good," he groaned, his hands gripping the sheets tightly. "Please, baby, don't make me wait any longer…" You leaned down to press a kiss to his hip bone, grinning at the way he shuddered beneath you. "Patience, birthday boy," you teased, looking up at him through your lashes. "I'm just getting started." Nico let out a guttural moan, his head falling back against the pillows. He was coming undone beneath your touch, his control slipping away with every kiss, every bite, every caress. "I can't take much more," he pleaded, his voice hoarse with need. You reached down to guide him inside you, taking your time to savor the sensation of being filled by him. "Mmm, you're so big and hard for me already…" you begin to lower yourself down, inch by delicious inch, until you're fully seated on his lap. Starting to move, rolling your hips in a slow, sensual rhythm. "Like this, Nico? Is this what you wanted, baby?" Leaning forward to capture his lips in a deep, passionate kiss, moaning softly into his mouth as you kept up with the slow, passionate pace. Nico groaned, his hands roaming over your body as you moved above him, enveloping him in a wave of sensation. "God, yes," he gasped, his voice thick with desire. "You feel so good. So perfect." He captured your lips in a desperate kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as he eagerly returned the kiss. His hands moved to your hips, guiding your movements as you continued to rock against him, each shift of your hips sending waves of pleasure through his body. "Baby, you're so good," he breathed, his head falling back against the pillows.

You smiled at the compliment, your hands sliding up his chest to toy with his hair as you continued to move above him, the intensity of the sensations building between you both. "I could do this all night," you purred, nipping at his neck as you picked up the pace. Nico groaned, his hands gripping your hips tighter as the pace quickened. "Don't tempt me," he said, his voice gruff with need. "I won't last long if you keep doing that." You chuckled softly, biting down on his earlobe as you continued to move against him. "Oh, I think you can handle a little more," you whispered, increasing the pace even further. "You're going to drive me insane," he gasped, his hands gripping your hips so tightly it was almost painful. But he didn't care, his mind consumed by the overwhelming pleasure your movements were bringing him. "That's the idea," you repeated, grinning as you continued to grind down against him. You could feel the pressure building inside you, the sensations threatening to overtake you at any moment. Nico's breathing was ragged, his chest heaving as he fought to hold on. "Baby, I'm so close," he gasped, his eyes clenched shut as he struggled to control himself. You reached down to capture his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. "Let go, birthday boy," you whispered against his lips. "I've got you." That was all it took to push him over the edge. With a guttural moan, he surrendered to the pleasure, his body tensing up as he let go completely. "Baby, I'm coming," he gasped, his hands gripping your waist tightly. You watched with satisfaction as he came apart beneath you, the pleasure you had taken from him now mirrored in your own body. You slowed your movements, bringing him down from the high, your own breathing still coming in quick, shallow gasps. You leaned down to press a soft kiss to his forehead, your fingers gently brushing away the strands of hair that had stuck to his sweat-slicked skin. "You okay there, birthday boy?" you teased, a soft smile playing on your lips.

Nico chuckled weakly, his eyes fluttering open as he tried to catch his breath. "I don't know if I'm ever going to be okay again," he said, his voice rough with exertion. "You just blew my mind." You smiled, feeling a sense of triumph at his words. "Well, that was the idea," you said, gently untangling yourself from his embrace and crawling up to lie beside him. "But I hope I didn't overdo it." "No, no, it was perfect," he said, rolling onto his side to face you. "You're always perfect." He reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, his eyes softening as he looked at you. You leaned into his touch, enjoying the feel of his fingers as they traced a path down your cheek. "You're pretty perfect yourself, you know," you said, smiling softly. "Happy birthday, Nico." He smiled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Thank you, baby. For everything. For the watch, and for this." He gestured to the rumpled sheets and the aftermath of their passion. "Well, you deserve the best," you said, snuggling up against him and resting your head on his chest. "So I had to make sure your birthday was extra special this year." "Well, you definitely succeeded," he said, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer. "I don't think I've ever had a better birthday." He was silent for a moment, his fingers gently tracing along your spine. "Although, there is one thing that could make this night even better," he said, his voice low. "Oh yeah?" you asked, curiosity piqued. "And what's that?" He shifted, rolling over to pin you beneath him, his hands on either side of your head. A sly grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I can think of a few more ways to celebrate..." You gasped as he pinned you down, a shiver of anticipation running through you. "You're insatiable," you said, a playful smile playing on your lips. "But I'm not complaining." "I can't help it," he said, leaning down to trail kisses along your neck. "You just bring out the animal in me, baby." He began to move against you, his body already responding to your proximity. "And I'm not done with you yet…"

[cinnablu3]

RECKLESS - ALL I WANTED WAS YOU

Masterlist

Ch 18, i lied about 20 chapters we might have 21.

After Utahime leaves, you find yourself alone, your heart racing. The time for Choso's arrival is drawing near. "I have to be honest with him, no matter the consequences," you remind yourself. Just then, there's a knock on the door.

Immediately opened the door and pulled Choso inside. "Easy, I know I said I couldn’t be spotted, but you were quick with it, doll," he teased.

"Cho." He immediately embraces you, wrapping his arms around your waist and squeezing you. He presses his lips against your forehead.

"Glad to know you miss me."

"I'm sorry about--" "Don't even finish that sentence. It wasn't your fault." He said, hiding his face inside your neck. "Give me a minute, I miss you, Doll."

It was a peaceful silence as he pulled away slowly. "I'm sorry. I wasn't even in jail for that long, but even then." He laughed. "I did miss you."

You couldn't hold back your smile, feeling the ache in your heart, knowing he wouldn't have the same feelings for what you were going to tell him.

"Choso take a seat please I need to get something off my ch--" "That you agreed to the kiss?" He interrupts, you can feel your heart drop. "He told me." He gives you a bitter smile.

"I'm not angry, I shouldn't be upset since we aren't even together," he says as he takes a seat on your couch. "Though, you wouldn't believe how frustrated I was when we had to share a cop car and a cell." He crosses his arms.

"He complains a lot, it really did makes me wonder what you saw in him."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his statement.

"I'm serious, I can't find anything attractive that could have caught your attention."

"That's a little harsh even for you."

"I told him, got in a fight in the cell." He grins, "I was supposed to get out much earlier but someone got offended and took another beating."

"I'm trying my best to be serious with you, I can't with you telling me all this information." You sighs holding back a smile.

He pushes back a strand of hair behind your ear. "Just know I forgive you, even though I was hurt about it, I just want to know." He turns serious. "Did you feel sparks?"

"I didn't, that's when I realized he wasn't someone I wanted my name to be attached to."

"Good, because being attached to mine is way better. Sounds better as well."

"I want to be with you, Choso. I do," You paused. "I want to talk to Satoru, can I? Just to clear everything and end things completely."

"That's a terrible idea, Name. He doesn't need an explanation. You don't have to acknowledge him anymore."

"Choso.."

"I'm serious. Write a letter if you have to.. that sounds terrible I'm sorry.." He puts his hands on his face embarrassed of his words. "I just don't want to feel like my feelings are being played with."

"You're valid for how you feel, I'll write a letter and that's it no more." Giving him a serious look.

"Promise?"

"Promise Cho."

"That's a promise. Just don't give me false hope that's all I ask." He intertwines his pinkies with yours.

"Since you kissed him, it's only fair that I finally do." He leans in and gently cuffs your face before pressing his lips against yours.

You couldn't hold back a smile.

"Glad to know you're out of jail, in good piece" Shoko teases pointing at Satoru eye as he sticks his tongue out.

"Don't remind me. That emo said I whine too much."

"He's not wrong."

"Shoko, don't you think it's rude to bully a friend?" Suguru speaks up.

"Thank you Sugu-"

"Especially when he has two ugly blackeyes by his nemesis." He smirks.

"My manager is going to kill me." He throws himself on the couch pouting. "Maybe don't respond so quickly especially when you can't fight Satoru," Shoko replied.

"I can fight, I was just drunk." He groans, "Speaking of drunk does Name know you're here?" Shoko looks off to the side and is silent.

"Utahime and her are currently not speaking to her after the whole party." Suguru chimed in putting a hand on her shoulder.

"That sounds like Utahime doing, not Name. She is not someone that often cuts people off."

"Look, can we not talk about this guys? I cannot have another reason why I need a cigarette again." She rubs her head.

"Why don't you storm for Utahime and ask to take you back?" Satoru looks up at her while she raises a brow.

"What?"

"For once, I'm desperate. I want my friends back, tell me. You guys can't be my only friends."

"So.. I was thinking.."

Taglist is now closed and full 💞 @miiiturix @superdonkeypatroleggs @inthedarkshadows000 @kumori-suwan @chilichopsticks @prized-jules 1ndee @lov3vivian @yuuuumii @chiiinglebells @sakurayashiro @ghostlyfanenemy @cisseadven @totallygyomeiswife bemebiu @chckn-pi @for-hearthand-home @sh0ot1ngst4r @muthic @lukaerith-morningstar meowforluv @uniquenicefangirl @4rmins @corvid007 @beautifulwitchcandy @iluv-ace @tartartagliaboo @genxnarumi lafrone @coffee-addicted-demigod @cupidsblonde depressedemosantaclaus @drownedbytears @s777athv @linaaeatsfamilies @lun4rchive @moonlitwitchdaisy @kooksbunnnn @shoma-nom @reagan707 @kaged-kitty b0nez9 btsinthesoop @shokosbunny @sleepykittyenergy @sad-darksoul @ghostswhoretbh @raquel12 @missthatgirl @explosivelywuisa @bunviixo @rifran @therealanxiety @harryzcherry

[missarchive]

bed chem 𐙚

elle greenaway

fem!reader

cw; +18 minors dni, kind of dom!reader, multiple orgasms, fingering & oral (elle receiving), tribbing, fade to black smut

wc; around 3k

an; i've been meaning to write for elle for a while and finally got around to it. dt to my lovely @reidsstargirl thank you for being my little proof reader <3

The conference room was silent except for the soft hum of the projector. Crime scene photos flashed on the screen, each more unsettling than the last. Victims frozen in snapshots of terror and tragedy. Couples, always women, always the same methodical precision to their deaths.

Hotch stood at the head of the table, arms crossed. “This unsub is methodical, patient. He takes his time earning the trust of his victims before he strikes. What we know is this: he targets lesbian couples in rural areas. He chooses women who are isolated, who he believes won’t be missed right away.”

The room was heavy with tension. You felt the weight of the case pressing against your chest. The details were chilling, but what made it worse was the pattern. He was escalating, and the longer it took to catch him, the more women would die.

“Given his methods, we believe the only way to stop him is to draw him out,” Hotch continued. His sharp gaze swept over the team. “We need to create a scenario that fits his profile—a couple he can fixate on.”

Your stomach flipped as the implication settled over the room. Before anyone could speak, Elle leaned forward in her chair.

“You’re asking us to go undercover,” she said, her voice steady.

Hotch nodded. “Yes. It’s our best chance to lure him out. He studies his victims carefully. He’ll be watching for any cracks in the facade, so whoever takes this role will need to sell it completely.”

The room was silent for a moment before Elle spoke again, her tone decisive. “I’ll do it.”

You hesitated for half a second before following her lead. “I’ll do it too.”

Hotch’s gaze softened slightly, his approval evident. “Good. Garcia will handle the backstory and setup. You’ll be moving into a rental property in a small town where the unsub has been active. The rest of us will be nearby, but once you’re in position, you’ll be on your own.”

Elle turned to you with a faint smirk as the meeting ended. “Guess we’re partners now.”

“Looks like it,” you replied, trying to ignore the knot of nerves in your stomach.

The rental house was small but cozy, nestled on a quiet street with neighbours who barely glanced your way as you unloaded your bags. It had all the makings of a perfect trap. Garcia had created a backstory that was seamless: photoshopped couple’s photos, social media accounts filled with playful banter, and a fabricated history of moving here for a “fresh start.”

Inside, Elle surveyed the living room, her hands on her hips. “Garcia really thought of everything,” she muttered, gesturing to the picture frames on the mantel. Each one showed the two of you in carefully staged moments—smiling on a picnic, laughing on a couch, holding hands in the park.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “She’s thorough, I’ll give her that.”

Elle glanced at you, her expression softening. “We’re going to need to lean into this. If the unsub’s watching, we have to make this believable.”

“I know,” you said, meeting her gaze. “But let’s be clear—this is just for the case.”

“Obviously,” Elle replied, but something in her tone felt less certain.

The bar was dimly lit, filled with the soft murmur of conversation and the clinking of glasses. You and Elle slid into a booth near the back, her hand resting lightly on your arm as you both scanned the room.

“We need to act natural,” she murmured, her lips barely moving as she leaned closer. “What do couples do on dates?”

You smirked, trying to ignore the warmth of her breath against your cheek. “Hold hands, flirt, make each other laugh. Think you can handle that?”

Elle raised a brow, her lips twitching into a small smile. “Watch and learn.”

She laced her fingers with yours, her touch both firm and surprisingly gentle. You felt a jolt of electricity at the contact but forced yourself to focus. Across the room, Morgan and Reid were stationed inconspicuously, their eyes occasionally darting your way.

Elle leaned closer, her voice low. “Smile. You look like you’re about to get audited.”

You laughed softly, her teasing easing some of the tension. “I didn’t realise you were such a comedian.”

“You’d be surprised,” she replied, her eyes meeting yours. For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade.

The unsub appeared not long after—a man who blended seamlessly into the crowd but whose eyes lingered on you and Elle just a moment too long.

“He’s here,” Elle murmured, her hand tightening around yours.

The unsub didn’t approach right away. He watched from the bar, nursing a drink and pretending not to stare. You and Elle had to play your roles perfectly, every glance, every touch calculated but natural.

Elle leaned into you, her lips brushing your ear as she whispered, “He’s watching us. We need to turn it up.”

Your heart pounded as you nodded, your breath hitching slightly when she placed a hand on your thigh. It was nothing overt, but the intimacy of the gesture sent a shiver down your spine.

“Relax,” she said softly, her eyes meeting yours. “Just follow my lead.”

You forced yourself to smile, leaning in closer until your foreheads nearly touched. “You’re enjoying this too much,” you teased, trying to keep the mood light.

Elle’s lips curled into a smirk. “Maybe a little.”

Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she tilted her head and kissed you. It wasn’t a quick peck or a hesitant brush of lips—it was slow, deliberate, and entirely convincing.

Your heart raced as you kissed her back, the line between acting and reality blurring with every passing second. When she pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, but her composure remained intact.

“He’s biting,” she murmured, her voice steady despite the tension crackling between you.

The unsub finally made his move, approaching your table with a disarming smile. His presence was unsettling, but you and Elle maintained your facade, playing the part of a happy couple caught off guard by a friendly stranger.

Every word, every glance, every touch was a calculated move, a delicate dance to keep the unsub engaged while the rest of the team moved into position.

By the time Morgan and Reid swooped in to make the arrest, your heart was racing for reasons that had little to do with the danger and everything to do with the woman sitting next to you.

The motel room was small and unassuming, its decor an uninspired mix of beige and muted floral patterns. The adrenaline of the night had begun to fade, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion that made your limbs feel like lead. You sat on the edge of the bed, staring at your reflection in the darkened screen of the television.

Your mind raced, replaying the events of the evening: the way Elle had touched your hand, her voice low and warm in your ear as she coached you through the act. And that kiss—God, that kiss. It was supposed to be for the case, to sell the ruse, but the way her lips moved against yours felt too natural, too genuine to be just acting.

You shook your head, trying to dismiss the thought. It was the job, you told yourself. Nothing more.

A knock at the door pulled you from your spiraling thoughts. You hesitated, staring at it as if it might open on its own. Another knock, firmer this time, broke your paralysis.

When you opened the door, Elle stood there, barefoot and dressed in an oversized FBI sweatshirt and loose sweatpants. The harsh glow of the hallway light cast soft shadows across her face, making her look younger, more vulnerable.

“Elle?” you asked, your voice rough from hours of silence.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted, her tone soft but edged with something unreadable. “Can I come in?”

You nodded, stepping aside to let her pass. She walked into the room, her movements slower, more deliberate than usual.

She stopped in the center of the room, crossing her arms over her chest as if to shield herself. “I just... needed to talk,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You closed the door behind her, leaning against it. “About the case?”

Elle turned to face you, her eyes meeting yours. For the first time all night, her composure cracked. “No. Not about the case. About us.”

The weight of her words settled between you, thick and heavy. You pushed off the door, moving closer but keeping a cautious distance. “Elle, I—”

She held up a hand, cutting you off. “Let me finish.” She took a deep breath, her hands dropping to her sides. “Tonight… that kiss… it wasn’t just for the case. At least, not for me.”

Your heart skipped a beat, her words catching you off guard. “What do you mean?”

Elle took a step closer, her eyes searching yours. “I don’t know when it started. Maybe it was tonight, maybe it was before, but being with you... pretending to be something we’re not...” She paused, her voice trembling slightly. “It didn’t feel like pretending.”

The air between you crackled with unspoken tension. You wanted to say something, to reassure her, but words failed you.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” she continued, her voice stronger now. “And I know it’s complicated. We’re colleagues, we’re supposed to keep things professional, but I can’t ignore this anymore.”

You took a step closer, closing the distance between you until you were standing inches apart. Her eyes flicked to your lips, and you felt your resolve slipping.

“Elle,” you said softly, your voice barely audible. “I felt it too.”

Her breath hitched, and in that moment, the tension that had been building for weeks, maybe months, finally snapped. She reached for you, her hands tentative at first as they settled on your shoulders. You leaned into her touch, your arms wrapping around her waist as her fingers slipped up the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

Her lips were soft against yours, warm and inviting. It felt like coming home, like this was where you belonged. Her tongue darted out, running over the seam of your lips before dipping inside, meeting yours in a sweet kiss.

You deepened the kiss, pulling her closer, feeling the press of her breasts against yours. Her hands slid down your back, pulling you into her as her leg lifted, brushing against your thigh. You felt your pulse quicken, the heat between you building as her lips parted beneath yours.

You broke the kiss, needing air, needing to focus on her, to commit every detail to memory. Her cheeks were flushed pink, her hair a little mussed from your touch. Your eyes drifted down to her breasts, the curves pushing out against the fabric of her bra.

You moved closer, dropping a trail of kisses down her neck as she arched into your touch. You felt her shiver, her fingers digging into your shoulders. Her breath came in short gasps, her body moving against yours.

You caught the edge of her bra between your fingers, pushing it down to reveal her breasts. They were even more beautiful than you imagined, soft and round. Your mouth settled over one peaked nipple, and her hands cupped the back of your head, encouraging you as your tongue circled around her skin.

She tasted sweet, like cherries and honey. Her nipple pebbled beneath your touch, and you sucked it into your mouth, eliciting a soft moan from her lips.

You let out a soft laugh, smiling against her breast. She was so responsive, like her body was made for this, for you.

You trailed your fingers down her stomach, feeling her skin quiver beneath your touch. Her hips jerked, and you chuckled again, loving the way she reacted to your every move.

Your hand slipped beneath her panties, cupping the curve of her ass as you nipped at her breast. Your other hand joined in, sliding over her pussy as you rubbed your thumb over her clit. She gasped, her body jerking beneath your touch.

You felt your own arousal build, your panties growing wet as you imagined the possibilities. Elle was more than you ever could’ve asked for, more than you deserved.

But you were taking it, taking her, taking this moment to make it yours.

Your fingers slipped inside her, feeling her pussy stretch around you as you pumped in and out, your thumb still rubbing circles over her clit.

Her legs started to shake, and you could feel her pussy tightening around your fingers. “Fuck,” she moaned, her nails digging into your shoulder. “Y/N, fuck.”

The feeling of your name on her lips was the hottest thing you’d ever heard. You fucked her harder, feeling her pulse beneath your fingertips. She felt so good, so wet and tight.

Her muscles clenched, and her pussy contracted around your fingers as she came. “Fuck!” she screamed, her hips jerking as she rode out her orgasm. Your fingers stilled inside her, your thumb slowing to a gentle pet before slipping away completely.

You pulled back, giving her a moment to catch her breath before you dropped to your knees in front of her. You hooked a finger around the waistband of her panties, tugging them down over her hips, her thighs, leaving them bunched around her ankles.

Her pussy was even more beautiful than you’d imagined, pink and swollen and dripping wet. You ran your thumb along the slit, feeling your pulse quicken as you dipped it inside.

She let out a little mewl, her hand tangling in your hair. You took it as a good sign and leaned forward, running your tongue along the wet line of her pussy.

She tasted so fucking good, sweet like candy and sharp like citrus. Your mouth moved over her, licking and sucking as you devoured every inch of her. Her hands tightened in your hair, pushing you closer until your nose was buried between her thighs.

She smelled like vanilla and coconut. It made your mouth water, made you want more.

You licked harder, moving in short quick strokes as your tongue flicked over her clit. Her body jerked with every touch, her muscles tensing as she neared her climax.

Your fingers moved, joining your tongue as you fingered her hard.

She came fast, her pussy pulsing around your fingers and tongue as she screamed your name. You let her come down from her high before pulling back, your mouth moving in one last swipe before you stood.

You were covered in her arousal, but you didn’t care. Elle’s eyes were hazy, her cheeks flushed pink as she gazed up at you.

“Y/N,” she said softly.

You didn’t need her to finish the sentence. You knew exactly what she wanted, because you wanted it too.

You stripped her down, removing her dress and bra until she stood before you completely naked. It was a sight you’d never get tired of, all smooth curves and long legs that were just begging to be tangled with yours.

You took your time undressing yourself, teasing her with every movement. Her hands came up, her fingers tracing over the curves of your breasts as you pushed them free from your bra. You dropped the fabric to the floor and stood before her, letting her touch wherever she wanted.

Your body was warm from your exertions, flushed pink and trembling with desire. Elle’s hands roamed over you, feeling your every contour.

You leaned into her touch, wanting it to last forever. Her fingers teased over your nipples, and you bit back a moan.

“I want you,” she whispered, her voice low and raspy.

You didn’t know if she meant she wanted to fuck you or be with you, and for now, you didn’t care because you wanted it all.

You kissed her again, your tongue tangling with hers as you stumbled toward the bed. You fell in a tangled mess of limbs and sheets, laughing and kissing as you fought for dominance.

You pinned her beneath you, your hips settling between her legs. You ground down, rubbing your pussy against hers as you kissed her neck.

“You're so beautiful, Elle,” you groaned, your body already starting to build.

You rubbed faster, your clit aching for friction. Elle’s mouth latched onto your neck, sucking and biting as you rocked over her. You felt her lips wrap around your nipple, sucking it into her mouth, and your vision started to blur.

Your hips moved on their own accord, grinding faster and harder. You were getting close, too close, and you didn’t want it to end.

Elle let out a soft gasp, her hips starting to jerk with her own orgasm. Her mouth found yours again, her tongue dipping inside as you came.

It was like the entire world had exploded in a wave of heat and colour. You couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything but Elle and the way her pussy felt against yours.

You rode out your climax, feeling her come against you as well. The feeling of her pulsing against you was almost too much, and you couldn’t help the soft cry that escaped your lips as another orgasm hit you.

You came in waves, clenching and releasing as Elle ground down against you.

You collapsed on top of her, your body trembling with aftershocks as your breathing slowly returned to normal.

Elle’s fingers traced over your spine, petting and soothing you as she held you close. It was comfortable and intimate and everything you wanted from her.

“Y/N?” she murmured softly.

“Stay here tonight?”

You lifted your head, gazing down at her. Her hair was mussed, her face still flushed pink from their exertions. “I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.”

You settled back against her, holding her close as your bodies intertwined. For tonight at least, you’d have her, and that was all that mattered. The rest could wait until tomorrow.

[cellythefloshie]

;; Locked In    by cellythefloshie

Summary: When the NHL season is abruptly halted by a global pandemic, and you find yourself sharing your tiny apartment with your brother's rookie teammate, Quinn Hughes. Kinks & TW: Tanev Sister Reader, Forced Proximity, Secret Hook-up/Romance, 2019-2020 Season, Covid-19 Lockdown, Hints of Mild Dominance from Quinn, Mild Alcohol Consumption, Dry Humping, Vaginal Fingering, A Little Angsty (unresolved). Word Count: 4k+ A/N: I hadn't planned to post anything in January. I was just going to post my Best of 2024 and be done until February. BUT then I decided I wanted to challenge myself a little. I wanted to write for a player I thought I would never write for. AND then I was writing for a time I never thought I would write before because, of course, his rookie season had to be during the pandemic. Please be gentle with me. I took a lot of creative liberties here, but I hope you all enjoy.

“Why does he have to stay here?”

The tension in your shoulders grew as you glared up at your brother Chris. If your words hadn’t been clear enough in telling him just how displeased you were with his proposition, your body language would have to help get the point across. 

“It’s just for a few days until they get everything figured out,” Chris replied, brushing off your annoyance with a casual shrug with an ease that left a bad taste in your mouth—and it really shouldn’t have. As your big brother, he had years of practice in the art of convincing you to do things you didn’t want to do. 

Sighing, you passed Chris and at the player your brother was hoping you’d welcome into the small one-bedroom apartment you called home. Quinn Hughes, the team's rookie defenseman. Tall, and handsome, you had done your best to keep your distance from him when you had met once before—knowing yourself too well to trust that you would behave around a guy like him. 

He was shy back then and seemed just as timid as he stood awkwardly in the hallway, pretending not to hear the conversation you were having with Chris. Quinn kept his head down, his warm brown eyes locked on the floor like a sad, pound puppy that nobody wanted, with his hands shoved into the pockets of his team branded hoodie. 

Forcing a smile, your gaze focused back up on your brother, and his toothy grin that was always just enough to convince you. 

“It’s bad enough that there’s some illness going around that’s so serious that they halted the season and the world feels like it’s ending,” you began, “but now you’re locking me in my apartment with the team’s rookie?”

“I can hear you, you know?” Quinn spoke up from the hallways, his gaze raising from the floor for the first time since he had arrived. 

Your heart beat hastened, and it pounded so strongly you could feel it against the delicate flesh of your throat. It raced so quickly; you thought it might burst through your chest as a wave of heated embarrassment washed over you. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you tried to play it cool, but if Quinn had reached out and felt just how sweaty your hands had become, he would know just how much of a facade it was. “Why can’t he stay with you?” You cocked your head as you brought your arms up to cross over your chest, begging him to get to the point he was trying to make. 

“The kids’ daycare is closed. Mom’s flying in before things get worse–but he’s my responsibility since we already got Petey home to Sweden and they don’t want any of the guy alone for-” Chris cut himself off, as if there was more to say but he didn’t want you to hear it. You hung on his words for a moment, ready to question him on it, but you didn’t. You knew better than to question your big brother. 

“Does mom think it’s a good idea to stick me in an apartment with him?” You challenged him in a last ditch effort to try to get out of the familial obligation of helping out your brother when he needed it. 

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” His smile grew wider as he placed Quinn’s bag down on the floor just inside the door. 

“You know,” you sighed, leaning against your door, giving Quinn just enough room to come inside, “instead of flying mom home, Quinn could have helped with the kids.” It was your final, half-serious attempt to escape the arrangement, but it only made your brother laugh. 

“Thanks, Sis,” he said simply, ignoring your every attempt to say no before he was gone, leaving you and Quinn alone in your apartment. 

You lingered by the door for a moment, your head resting against the surface as you let out a steady breath. Maybe if Chris had given you a heads up, you might have felt differently about the entire situation, but your place was in no condition for a houseguest. Dishes had piled up in the sink, your laundry was half folded on the couch, and you were in the middle of rewatching your favorite television series on Netflix as a way to avoid the hell that was going on in the world. And Quinn, he was just going to have to accept all of it. 

But only for a few days. 

With a sigh, you pushed back from the door and forced a smile. “Sorry about the mess,” you told him as you moved to the couch and gathered armfuls of clothes. “You can set yourself up on the couch. Put on anything you like. I’ll get this all out of the way.”

“Do you need a hand?” Quinn offered, and you almost flinched. You hadn’t expected him to be so nice. 

“No, no, I’m fine,” you assured, carrying the clothes into your bedroom before throwing them onto your bed. You would deal with them later. First, you would have to deal with Quinn. 

Leaving your room, you shut the door firmly behind you. “That’s my room,” you gestured to the closed door, “it’s off limits to you unless stated otherwise. Obviously, you’re in the living room, which also happens to be the kitchen and the dining room. And through there is the bathroom, and if you can manage all of that without getting lost, tomorrow I can show you where the laundry room is down the hall.”

It wasn’t much of a tour, but the apartment was small. Surely if Quinn needed anything, he would figure it out—and you wanted nothing more than to retreat and hide away from the awkward situation your brother had forced you into. Maybe it made you seem harsh—or maybe it didn’t, because Quinn met your words with a soft smile and a quiet thanks before he settled in on the sofa, making himself at home. 

“If you need anything,” you started softly, your words becoming heavy with a sigh, “just knock.”

Slowly, you slipped away into the sanctuary of your bedroom, your lips moving in a whisper of a prayer as you began to put your laundry into its place. “It’s only for a few days…”

Days turned into weeks. And as the world’s condition only seemed to worsen, necessity foiled your determination to keep Quinn at arm’s length. You could only take so much solitude in your room before the silence became unbearable. While you had movies on your laptop and video chats with your friends to keep you entertained, you needed real human contact to keep yourself from insanity. Slowly, you began to share meals together, and small talk that slowly grew beyond hockey and the relationship you had with your brothers Chris and Brandon. And to your surprise, he wasn’t the worst house guest. Quinn was self-sufficient, considerate, and–while you would never admit it to Chris–the only person keeping you from losing your mind. 

“Do you maybe want to watch a movie together, or something?” you asked him one night after dinner, your tone as casual as you could muster. 

Quinn’s attention snapped to you, shifting from his phone that lit up the surprise that overtook his features. “Yeah, sure. I can set it up. Anything you want to watch?”

You shrugged as you tucked the last of the clean dishes away. “Just put on whatever. I’ll pop some popcorn.”

Settling on the couch minutes later, you place the bowl of popcorn in the space between you. As the movie played, the distance between you and Quinn seemed to shrink with each handful. You felt the warmth of his body radiating from him, and the softness of his hands as they collided with yours on the hunt for just another handful of popcorn. It was a subtle, but unignorable touch that made your pulse quicken. 

Biting down on your lower lip, you brought your hands back to rest on your lap, and you glanced at him from the corner of your eyes. Quinn was focused on the movie, his sharp jawline tense as he enjoyed the last handful of popcorn. His eyes didn’t hold the heavy sadness they had when he had arrived at your apartment weeks ago, but seemed to have a hint of a smile in them as he laughed at one of the jokes as it played out on screen. 

You smiled softly to yourself. 

You liked his laugh, and maybe it was just the weeks of isolation consuming you, but… he wasn’t bad company at all. 

“What?” Quinn’s question sent a nervous jolt through you. He had caught you looking. 

“Nothing,” you said quickly, trying to play it cool. 

The couch shifted as Quinn turned his body away from the movie, giving his attention to you as he relaxed back against the arm of the couch. “Tell me.”

For a moment, you thought about ignoring him. That the two of you could ignore what had just happened and just get lost in the movie until the crack in your hardened facade was forgotten. But his stare left you giddy, and there was no hiding the smile that began to blossom over your features. 

“You’re not a bad guy to have around, Hughes,” you finally admitted, “and I’m glad you’re here.”

A smile, genuine smile spread across his face as he reached up to push his thick brunette hair from his eyes, “your brother thought it would be best for you–”

Your brows furrowed, your question leaving your lips in a firm question before he could continue, “I’m sorry, what?” “He didn’t want you to be alone during all of this,” Quinn explained, his voice soft and sheepish, as if he knew he shouldn’t have been telling you anything. 

You leaned back against the opposite arm of the couch, your legs coming up to spread across the cushions and dragging along his leg slowly, accidentally, until you were comfortable there. “That lying bastard,” you laughed in disbelief, “he told me you being here was for your sake!”

Quinn’s laughter joined yours, warm and contagious as it created a symphony with yours. “We’ll have to give him hell for it later… but it hasn’t been all that bad, has it?”

You shook your head slowly, a silent admission that the weeks you had spent together in forced proximity weren’t all that bad. Standing up, you moved to the fridge, finding two tall beer bottles in the back. You carried one in each hand back to the couch, offering one to him as you stood just behind him, your body leaning against the back of the couch. 

“I can think of maybe two people I’d rather be stuck here with,” you joked lightly. 

“Ouch,” Quinn teased as he twisted off the cap and took a long, satisfying sip. 

“Don’t lie,” you told him. “I know you’d rather be at home with your brothers.”

“My brothers aren’t as easy on the eyes as you are,” Quinn said quickly, without hesitation. But then his face flooded with color, and his eyes went wide. Just as quickly as his words had been said, Quinn had realized they had not just been the thoughts reserved for his head. “Let’s pretend I didn’t just say that, okay?”

You raised your brow, challenging him with a smile as you asked, “What would be the fun in that?” 

Quinn’s smile grew. 

Your brother had thrown you both into this situation. You, his sister, cooped up with him, the team’s rookie defenceman, during a global pandemic that left you both isolated and alone. What Chris had expected to happen? You didn’t know. But it was only a matter of time before the lines you had created became blurred. 

After a long, satisfying sip of beer to boost your confidence, you leaned forward and placed it down on the coffee table. Licking your lips slowly, you hesitated, your mind screaming no, but your body telling you yes, as you climbed into Quinn’s lap slowly. You seated yourself there, his lap between your thighs as you straddled him. His eyes shot wide, a quiet cough choking him as he forced back a sip of beer and silently handed the cold bottle to you. 

Leaning back carefully, you place it down next to yours, Quinn’s hands reaching out to grip carefully at your thighs to keep you from falling back. He anchored you there, in his lap, as you settled back into place carefully, your body arching further into his, stealing more and more of his space until you were a breath away from his lips. A small smile blossomed over your lips slowly, your body consumed with the giddiness of what you were about to do. Your brother would kill you for this, or Quinn, but you didn’t care. It made it all the more exciting to lean in and kiss him. 

There was a moment of hesitancy in the careful kiss of Quinn’s lips as they welcomed yours. His kiss was slow, and curious as your eyes fluttered shut and your hands came to rest on his shoulders. Your touch was a feather light fleeting touch that quickly found its way into the thick wisps of his hair as his kiss deepened with desperation. 

He kissed you like you were a glass of water, and he hadn’t had a sip in weeks. His tongue stroked your lips slowly before parting them, and you could taste the beer on his tongue as you welcomed it into your mouth. The sweet contact unleashed a hum that caused through Quinn’s body in a subtle vibration that could feel between your thighs. And suddenly, your entire body was weak, like gelatin, and craving more than just the kiss of his lips. 

“Quinn,” you whined against his lips, your hips moving in slow rotations over his lap, grinding your core against his cock that you hoped to coax into an erection. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, breaking the kiss for the first time as he threw his head back. Quinn’s touch left where he held you firmly at the back of your thighs, dragging upwards until they settled on your hips and encouraged your every movement. 

You watched as his face melted into a soft expression that you couldn’t quite place, his mouth agape and his eyes shut as he focused on the very feeling of you. And between your legs, you could feel the stiffness of his cock, hard and ready. Reaching down, your fingers fumbled to work him free of his pants, but the quick lurch of his one hand captured both of yours in his hold. 

You looked up at him, your eyes wide in shock as he guided your hands to the waistband of your pants carefully. 

“Take those off,” he told you, his words firm and far from a suggestion, “and go to your room.”

Holy fuck. You had never been someone who liked to be told what to do, but in that moment, Quinn could have told you to do anything and you would have done it. 

Standing slowly, you stood between his knees as she remained seated on the couch. Your eyes fixated on his features, worried that if you had let them wander down out of curiosity, you might moan. As you held your breath, your hands pushed down at the waist of your pants, you pushed them down—and your panties went with them. 

They remained in a heap on the floor, your toes tripping over them slightly as you began the agonizing walk to the bedroom. With every stride you could feel your own wetness dripping down the inside of your thighs, your core begging to be filled. And as you got to your bedroom, you froze, your legs pressed firm together as you waited. His footsteps didn’t fill the silence. Quinn wasn’t following you. 

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, your flesh suddenly red hut and sent a shimmer with a sheen of sweat. Quinn was still in the living room, his thoughts entirely his own as you waited, near panicked, for him to join you. 

Standing with your back to the door, your eyes shut as you took deep breaths in an attempt to remain calm. Maybe you had been too forward. He wasn’t interested—or maybe he wasn’t as reckless as you and wasn’t ready to throw away a good relationship with his teammate by fucking his teammate’s sister. 

“Fuck,” you cursed to yourself, ready to accept the mistake you had just made. 

Reaching for your blanket, you had intended to wrap it around your waist and retreat back into the living room with an apology, but when you turned around, Quinn was standing in your doorway. 

His steps were slow as he entered your bedroom for the first time since he had arrived two weeks prior. Quinn wasted no time getting familiar with his surroundings. He only had eyes for you as he met you where you stood frozen at the foot of your bed. Quinn’s arms wrapped around you in a careful bear-hug, drawing your body flush with his as his lips found yours in a kiss that reassured you that your advances had been welcome. 

You moaned against his lips as he lay you out on your bed with an effortless strength and splayed your legs open wide. Quinn could have settled himself in between them, but instead, he lay down at your side, your one leg propped up against him. He stroked at the delicate flesh of your inner thigh slowly as he kissed you. His touch moved up only an inch at a time, teasing you as he encroached on the apex of your thighs. He left your body shuddering with anticipation, his hand hovering over your eagerness but void of his touch when you knew he was so close to where you wanted him. 

“Please don’t make me beg,” you muttered against his lips. 

It had been weeks since you had anyone touch you, and when he had become your unexpected house guest, he was the last person you thought you would welcome into your bed. But now that you had him there, you wanted all of him, or as much of himself as he was willing to give you. 

First, you felt him smile against your lips, a hum of a laugh coursing through him, and then you felt his fingers on your clit. 

Your teeth grit in a satisfied hiss, your hips raising to meet his touch with an eagerness that was out of your control. Your heels dug down into the bed, your hips rolling into every careful circular stroke he made before his fingers dipped down, feeling the slick of your arousal and plunged into your core. 

“Quinn,” you gasped out, your hips dropping into a downward angle to welcome his fingers into your core. 

His middle and ring finger worked you in quick thrusts that left your mind dizzy and your movements purely instinctive as you anchored yourself to your bed with the grasp of your hand and bucked your hips up into his hand just to feel more of him. Quickly, you were so embarrassingly close to coming, and it left you reeling as you looked up at him with pleading eyes. 

“Are you going to-” you started, your body trying to roll on top of him in a swift movement that was interrupted by the careful push of his free hand against your hip. Quinn pushed you back to laying flat against the bed, one hand still buried in your core while the other held you down at the hips. The angle he worked you into, paired with how his fingers curled at just the right spot as they worked you, sent a fire burning through you. Your arousal coated his fingers, dripping down over his palm and making a mess of the bed as pleasure pulsed through you. It left you moaning, your head thrown back against the mattress as your core clenched around his fingers, wishing that it was his cock. 

As you lay in your bed, panting, you tried to remember the last time you let someone do something as adolescent as getting you off with nothing more than their fingers. But your mind was fogged by the bliss of your climax—but one thought hung low over you, preventing you from enjoying it fully. Quinn hadn’t gotten to enjoy releasing himself. 

Rolling over slowly, you tried to reach out for his waistband again, but he caught your hand. Your gaze met his, his eyes soft, and his smile small as he stroked the back of your hand with his thumb slowly. 

“You didn’t get to-” You started, but he cut you off. 

“I know,” he said, his hand bringing your hand to his lips to place a gentle kiss on your palm—a small attempt at a distraction from how his cock still seemed to throb in the confines of his pants. “But let’s sleep on it, okay? Make sure you don’t regret this in the morning. I mean, your brother is my teammate, after all.”

“Oh,” you sounded softly, trying to hide your disappointment behind understanding, “yeah, okay. But ah- can you stay in here with me tonight?” You requested slowly, “I don’t want to sleep alone anymore-”

Quinn nodded slowly, leaning in to place a kiss on your forehead. “I can do that, anything to get away from sleeping on that damn couch–”

The morning sunlight filtered weakly through the curtains, casting long shadows across the table as you sat across from Quinn. It was the first morning since he had arrived that it felt like you weren’t walking on eggshells. It was a quiet, comfortable affair, yet there was a new tension in the air. One that you couldn’t quite place. Maybe he was regretting what had happened. That thought alone left your stomach in your throat as you poked at your breakfast, trying to find the will to take the first bite. 

Then, breaking the silence, Quinn found the courage to speak. “I’m allowed to fly back to Michigan, to be with my family until the season resumes.”

Your grasp on your fork tightened, his words hitting you like a slap to the face. You could feel your face wanting to fall into a scowl, but you did your best to mask it by taking a long sip of your drink as you sought composure. 

So that was it. After weeks of shared solitaire, an awkward beginning that turned into something that felt natural, he was leaving? Just like that?

“That’s great,” you said, forcing a smile. “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow morning,” he answered. 

You could feel his gaze on your face, searching for the reaction you refused to give him. Instead, you let your features soften, a practiced smile on your features as you set your fork down on the table with deliberate care. “I won’t keep you then. You’ve got some packing to do. The last thing you need is a distraction.”

Pushing your chair back, you abandoned your place on the table, your breakfast unfinished, and moved towards your bedroom. Your footsteps were quick, your eyes fixated on your bedroom door, and they did not deviate from it. Not even as Quinn’s voice followed you, your name leaving his lips in a gentle plea, “Please wait, can we talk about this?”

His words didn’t stop you. You didn’t turn around; you didn’t look back at him. Instead, your hand just tightened into your fist at your side as you reached the threshold of your doorway. There, you lingered for a moment, your flexed hand reaching up to rest against the door frame. You could feel Quinn’s eyes on your back, and your lips parted as if to say something–a sharp retort, a clever quip, anything to fill the silence–but no words came. 

Only a quivering breath left your lips as you stepped into your room and closed the door firmly behind you. 

The quietness and sudden isolation of your room were suddenly suffocating. Just mere hours ago you had Quinn had woken up there, together, and now he was going to just leave? It felt like some sick and twisted joke that left you trembling as you sank to your knees. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had known before breakfast, and that last night only happened because Quinn knew he was going to leave. The what ifs were all-consuming in your mind, raging louder and louder even if you tried to combat them with: Quinn, isn’t that kind of guy. He’s good—at least that’s what you wanted to believe. But the thought wasn’t enough. Your tears came anyway, hot and unrelenting as you silently sobbed. The hot tears spilled down your cheeks as you pressed your psalm into your face to muffle any sound that threatened to escape your lips. 

Quinn was leaving. After everything. After the awkward days of learning to live together, and the late-night talks, the laughter, and the moments that felt too intimate to be casual. You’d finally allowed yourself to settle into the strange shared existence the two of you had been thrust into. For two weeks, it was just the two of you alone in the little world that was your apartment. When Chris had dropped him off weeks ago, you knew the arrangement was temporary. At one point you had been counting down the hours until he could leave… but now, as you struggled through shallow breaths in search of a glimmer of composure, you had to accept he was leaving you behind, and it felt achingly permanent. 

In just twenty-four hours, Quinn would be gone.

You spent each one of them alone in your room, your mind racing with so many things you wanted to say, but never brought yourself to. As the next time you left your room, the apartment was unbearably quiet, void of Quinn’s presence. And for the first time in weeks, you were truly alone. 

[bueckersstuff]

REMEMBER

Click here for chapter: 1 & 2

Chapter 3: Forgotten Faces, Remembered Pain

Paige's POV

I grew up here in Minnesota, living what seemed like a perfect life until I left for college in Connecticut three years ago. Good family, solid school, a career I was proud of, the best friends anyone could ask for. I had everything I could have dreamed of. Or at least, I thought I did. But then, a certain someone walked back into my life, and now I realized—time doesn’t heal anything. You just get used to carrying the weight of what hurts for a lot longer than you should.

It all started when I was twelve, discovering my love for basketball. My dad used to bring me to this basketball court just down the street to practice, sometimes for hours. We’d always end up at the local convenience store, grabbing snacks—he’d stock up on chips while I picked out ice cream. I still remember that day. I grabbed my usual chocolate ice cream, lined up to pay, and that’s when I heard it.

"No! What you gave me is a dollar short! I can count!" A girl’s voice, sharp with frustration, cutting through the air. I turned, half expecting some kind of mistake, but she was standing there, arguing with the cashier, insisting on the right change.

I couldn’t help it—my eyes met hers, and she shoved the receipt into my face, her little face demanding validation.

"You know math? Tell me I’m right, and she’s wrong."

I had to laugh. I looked at the cashier, then back at her. "Yeah, you’re right." Though I was laughing, I actually glanced at the receipt and she was, indeed, right.

She flashed that cocky grin of hers, so smug. "See? Told you I’m right."

That was just the beginning.

She started following me around, asking questions, poking into my life, telling me she had no friends, she was bored all the time. I didn’t even know why I let her in, but I did. So, I told her, "If you want to waste time, you can come watch me practice. You live around here, right?" She had mentioned earlier that she lives nearby.

"Yeah, that works," she replied, smirking. "I can waste time and practice my math by counting your scores. That is, if you can score."

That was her way of challenging me.

Five years. Five years we spent inseparable, like we couldn’t exist without each other. And then, the world broke apart.

One day, she came to practice with bloodshot eyes, her face red and blotchy from crying. Before I could even ask, she blurted out, her voice cracking:

"I’m leaving Minnesota. Mom says it’s for work, and we’ll be back sooner than I think."

She started sobbing uncontrollably. "I don’t want to leave. I can’t leave you here alone."

I was speechless. My world was spinning, and I didn’t know how to respond. I couldn’t wrap my mind around it.

"If that’s what the adults want, there’s nothing we can do about it, right?" I muttered, trying to ease the tension. "We can still talk on video calls, and you’ll be back before you know it."

But what about what I wanted?

"No!" she screamed. "If I leave, you’ll forget about me. You’ll find new friends!"

I could hear the panic in her voice, and it drove a sharp pain into my chest. "I won’t. I promise. It’s just us two, forever and ever."

And then she was gone.

For two years, we kept in touch, but as soon as I moved to Connecticut for college, things started to unravel. The calls grew less frequent, the arguments more intense. Silence followed, suffocating silence. No texts, no calls. Just emptiness.

I thought she was living her best life—at least, that’s what her social media told me. She seemed happy, thriving. But where did that leave me? Did "forever and ever" mean nothing? Was I just another part of her past, fading away?

I moved on, or so I told myself. I threw myself into my studies, my career. But still, there were nights when I found myself searching for her name, staring at her photos, wondering what had happened. Longing. Disappointment. Anger. Then confusion. Why was I still so obsessed? She left me all alone, even when I needed her the most. When I suffered an injury while playing my sport, I thought she’d be there for me, but I was wrong. I admit, I reached out to her, sending messages here and there—but maybe that was just my vulnerability talking. In the end, it didn’t matter. The lowest point of my life wasn’t even worth her time.

And then, there she was. Standing in front of me. But she was... different. Not in a good way. Something about her seemed so out of place. Her whole aura had changed. What happened to her?

It’s been a week since that first encounter, and I’m running errands for Drew. I roll my eyes—he’s got the audacity to ask me to get ice cream for him. As I’m perusing the different flavors, out of the corner of my eye, I see him.

Steve.

The shock is immediate, but the look on his face is worse. He’s more stunned than I am. But why is that? Am I not supposed to see him anymore?

"Paige? Long time no see! What are you doing here? I thought you were in Connecticut?"

My heart skips a beat. He keeps tabs on me?

"I’m on a break. Gonna head back tomorrow though, classes start soon. It’s good to see you again, Steve." I try to sound calm, but it’s hard when my mind is still reeling. "How’s Emma?"

His face contorts, and I see a flicker of pain—something I haven’t seen before, and it sends a sharp pang through me.

"Emma’s gone. Just three months ago."

The words crash into me like a wrecking ball. What? Emma’s dead?

I don’t know what to say. My mouth goes dry. "Oh my god. I’m so sorry. How are you holding up?"

"We’re fine now, I guess. But the last three months have been hell. Losing Emma... and then having my daughter almost..." He trails off, his voice cracking. "I’m just thankful my daughter got lucky."

My stomach drops. "What do you mean?"

"I came here with my daughter. You haven’t seen her yet?" he asks, and the words send a shiver through me.

Oh, I've seen her, but then she disappears again for the rest of the week.

"But maybe even if you did, she won’t remember you," he adds, his voice tinged with sadness.

I freeze. What?

"She’s suffering from a temporary memory loss from the accident, Paige."

She forgot me? She forgot about us?

The ice cream Steve is holding shakes slightly in his hands, and I suddenly realize I’m staring at it. "Is that for her? That’s her favorite."

"Yeah. I’m hoping it’ll help her remember, you know?" Steve’s voice breaks, and it feels like the weight of everything is pressing in on me.

I don’t know why I say it, but it spills out before I can stop myself.

"I want to help. Make her remember."

I must be crazy.

He looks at me, surprised but grateful. "You would? That means a lot to me, Paige."

He pauses for a moment, his eyes a little distant, before continuing. "I’ve been thinking about it for a while now—about sending her back to school. The doctors think getting back into a routine could help her. They said it might spark something, help her remember what she loved." He exhales, his voice wavering slightly. "I’ve been struggling with whether or not it's the right time, but... I think it might be the only way."

I barely hear him as my mind races. "She can attend to mine. Transfer her. She can join the swimming team. She still swims, right?"

Or maybe I'm just out of my fucking mind.

"Yes!" Steve’s face lights up. "That’s actually a great idea. I’ll start processing her papers next week."

She needs to remember. Because when she finally looks me in the eye and says sorry, it won’t be some empty apology. It’ll be real.

She’ll remember me. She has to.

Chapter 4 setting's gonna be at Uconn. More interactions and stuff!! <3

Taglist: @authentic-girl03 @unadulteratedcyclepaper @0phantom0 @sjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj

[paperstorm]

(I'm so sorry if this posts twice, I had it queued but tumblr seems to have eaten it) Thanks for the tags @annoyingcloudearthquake @rangersoup @thisbuildinghasfeelings and @carlos-in-glasses! Here is a snippet from Somewhere in a Song, chapter posting tomorrow :)

It takes Carlos a moment, as he steps into the main part of the theater from a side entrance, to notice he isn’t alone. TK is sitting at the edge of the stage in the middle, with his legs hanging over the sides, purple Converse on his feet and black jeans despite the summer heat outside.

“Oh,” Carlos says in surprise, from yards away where he’s standing in the aisle between rows of red velvet chairs.

“Hey.” TK nods at him in greeting. His hands are tucked underneath his thighs and Carlos looks around quickly, wondering if TK’s bandmates are here as well. He thought he spotted Marjan back in the lobby of the hotel, but now he’s wondering if it wasn’t her. He only saw the woman from the back.

“Where’s the rest of your crew?” TK asks, echoing the question Carlos hadn’t gotten around to asking.

“Back at the hotel. Relaxing.”

TK nods again.

“What are you doing here?”

Raising an eyebrow, TK combatively asks, “What are you doing here?”

Carlos bites back a sigh.

Before he can reply, TK gives him an answer. “We’ve never been at this venue before. The last time we were here, we played some rinky-dink place across town.”

Their eyes meet and their gaze holds for a long moment. Carlos steps forward, walking further toward the stage. He climbs the five steps up the side of it and turns so he can take in the seemingly endless rows of seating from the vantage point he’ll have tonight when they perform on this stage.

“I like to get to know a place before I play it,” TK continues with a casual shrug. He looks around, leaning back on his hands and head tipping back to look up at the high vaulted ceiling, intricately painted in gold and red and orange. “Especially these old historical theaters. Get a feel for the bones of it, a feel for …”

He trails off and Carlos finds himself desperately curious to hear the end of the sentence, because it sounds so much like exactly what he was doing five minutes ago. TK looks over at him, and then quickly looks away.

“Never mind,” he says, with a laugh and a roll of his eyes. “Did you want the stage for something? I can head out.”

“A feel for what?” Carlos asks.

TK licks his lips. He’s wearing glittery earrings today and they sparkle in the overhead lights. His head turns again, blinking at Carlos, green eyes searching his face. Whatever he’s looking for, he must find, because softly he says, “For the artists who were here before me. Jazz bands or opera singers or – I don’t know, fucking … tap dancers.”

Carlos chuckles and watches as just a glimmer of a smile changes the shape of TK’s face before he’s gazing back out into the empty auditorium.

“Maybe it’s stupid,” TK says with a shrug. There’s an edge to his voice that suggests he’s daring Carlos to make fun of him and see what happens. “But I like to think everyone who gets to perform in a place like this leaves a mark on it. Like they’re all still here, somehow, and after tonight we’ll be here too, cheering on the next act that comes through.”

“It’s not stupid.”

Silence settles between them for another moment, and then TK asks, “So, what are you doing here?”

“Same thing, basically,” Carlos tells him honestly.

TK looks at him, and again Carlos feels as if he’s being x-rayed by those clear green eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah. That’s what music can do, right? Make you feel like you’re part of something bigger than yourself. Bigger than just a song or a show or a moment in time.”

Tagging @theghostofashton @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @eclectic-sassycoweyes @carlos-in-glasses

@bonheur-cafe @actual-sleeping-beauty @herefortarlos @heartstringsduet @alrightbuckaroo

@goodways @lightningboltreader @emsprovisions @freneticfloetry @liminalmemories21

@reasonandfaithinharmony @ladytessa74 @never-blooms @sanjuwrites @orchidscript

@lemonlyman-dotcom @jesuisici33 @kiwichaeng @honeybee-taskforce @hereghostslive

@just-inside-her @firstprince-history-huh @captain-gillian @tellmegoodbye @ironheartwriter

@butchreyes @anactualcaseofthetruth @ditheringmind @thisbuildinghasfeelings @whatsintheboxmh

@irispurpurea @nisbanisba @corsage @chicgeekgirl89 @nancys-braids

@carlossreaders @denizoid @everlastingday

Want to be added or removed from the list? Lmk

[beanjang-draws]

Plague Ponies - Duty-Bound

CONTENT WARNING: Blood (minor), violence, body horror

Previous | Next

Summary:

Shortly after recovering from the Plundervine attack, Celestia is readjusting her methods of protecting Equestria...

Having grown increasingly distrustful of herself and those around her, Celestia has taken to running things on her own again. She needs to remove any risk, even when it might take a familiar shape. In the midst of this process, things are breaking down at Canterlot Hospital and the guards stationed there have requested intervention--immediately.

Transcript below:

Title Page:

Plague Ponies Episode 6: "DutyBound"

Shortly after recovering from the plundervine attack, Celestia is readjusting her methods of protecting Equestria...

Content Warnings: blood and violence, body horror, disease mention

Comic Start

Celestia, thinking: What a quiet morning..

As she is lowering the moon and raising the sun for the day, Celestia is startled by the fiery arrival of a letter.

Celestia, thinking: Another letter...

Seeing Twilight's mark on the wax seal, Celestia's expression softens.

Celestia, thinking: Oh, it's from Twilight! Certainly a welcome change of pace...

Twilight's letter reads:

"Dear Princess Celestia,

I have begun preparing Ponyville for mass contagion as you have instructed. Construction of the experimental facilities are nearly complete, and I am gathering information on pre-existing infrastructure historically used in Ponyville in times of health crisis.

Granny Smith has shared with me an account of past protocols used during times of sickness. I intend to continue to work with the insight of everypony here.

We now have confirmation that a majority of Ponyville harbored an early version of the sickness. Although we assume that the wave of magic from The Tree of Harmony cleansed most of the residents...the small amount of remaining infections remain yet unaccounted for.

Participants to undergo observation have been selected, and testing is expected to run smoothly. Will an official statement be made soon? I believe patients may cooperate more readily when presented with more information.

Your faithful student,

Twilight Sparkle"

Celestia lets out a sigh as she finishes reading Twilight's letter. She sends out a pre-written response letter and heads to the throne room. Upon entering, she uses alicorn magic on the throne to reveal a spiral staircase descending far below the castle.

Celestia's reply to Twilight reads: "Dear Twilight Sparkle,

For now, continue as you have done and keep the peace. In the wake of the recent Changeling invasion and the return of The Crystal Empire, keeping the peace is our priority.

I leave the continued care of The Elements of Harmony and The Tree of Harmony to you. I wish your princesshood had started during more peaceful times, but I know you and your friends are well-equipped to handle them.

Yours,

Celestia"

Celestia, thinking: Twilight, at least, can be trusted. What dark times these are, that nopony can be trusted--not even those dearest to us...

Celestia hesitates before entering a lit room at the end of the underground passageway.

Celestia Hello "Luna".

Luna stares up at Celestia from low on the ground. Her front legs and wings are restrained by chains. Black anti-magic crystals grow from her primary horn.

Luna: Sister, you must release me! Think of our subjects!

Celestia: Luna would understand that is precisely why I do this.

Luna: Sister, you are unwell...you cannot continue this way on your own--

Celestia: Silence.

Celestia uses her magic to raise Luna up. It seems to cost her a lot of effort as beads of sweat roll off of her body. She does not the dark curls of magic slinking by Luna's legs.

Celestia: I have been the sole guardian of Equestria for a thousand moons. I will not compromise the safety of my ponies. Not even for this. Changeling.

Luna hangs limply in the air, held up by the restraints on her wings.

Luna: It is you who are compromised. Your judgement grows hasty.

Celestia: Enough--

Luna: The gazes of your subjects you so thrived beneath...have become a burden to your addled mind.

Celestia: How dare you...

Before either of the sisters can say more, a letter arrives in a burst of flame.

Celestia: A letter from The Royal Guard...

Sunburst and Moondancer are in a storage closet. There is banging coming from the other side of the door.

Sunburst: I'm sure help is coming soon...we've just got to sit tight and stay calm!

Moondancer: You've said that for the past hour and a half now at least.

A particularly loud "CRACK" startles both ponies.

Moondancer: Can't I get one second to think?

Moondancer leaps to her feet and braces her hooves against the door, lighting her horn. Sunburst watches in both fascination and alarm. There's a flash of light, and a pink bubble now covers the door, blocking out all the noise.

Sunburst, thinking: To think, she'd cast a sustained spell just for some peace and quiet...

Moondancer: I know it's a little excessive...but I really needed a break from the noise. I'm normally on the analytics team so I'm used to...quieter environments.

Sunburst: I don't think any of us are used to hiding in a storage closet during a biohazard breach...but your barrier is definitely helping.

Sunburst: It's funny, we've been in the same project this whole time and I had no idea you were such a skilled spell caster! Silencing spells are so complicated, and this one is so stable--

Moondancer: It's not that hard once you've done it a few times. But um, thanks.

Moondancer awkwardly adjusts her glasses to brush off the praise. Sunburst doesn't really know what to say.

Sunburst: Ah, anyways, Moon Dancer, right? How are you at layering spells?

Moondancer: I've been doing it since I was a filly, why?

Sunburst: How familiar are you with magnetism spells?

Celestia and two Royal Guards are flying to the hospital. One of the guards is Flash Sentry.

Celestia: Report!

Flash Sentry: The quarantine zone was overrun at around sunrise. We were forced to lock down the laboratory.

Celestia: "Overrun"?

Flash Sentry: The patients have become...aggressive. All but two of the researchers have been evacuated.

Celestia: Contact with patients must be a last resort. Retrieving the researchers is priority.

They arrive at the hospital and find flashes of light coming from the windows.

Guard 1: That light...! It must be the researchers. None of the patients are able to use magic in their current state.

Celestia: I will lead. Avoid coming to blows if you can. I would like there to be little harm inflicted here today.

Both guards: Yes, your Majesty!

Celestia looks grim. She is still sweating quite a bit, clearly not at her best.

Celestia, thinking: I should never have entrusted this project to external facilities...I'm sorry for endangering you, my little ponies.

Celestia: Prepare to--what...

Celestia looks up in bewilderment to see the two missing researchers floating in pink bubbles. Sunburst is putting a haggard looking Fancy Pants to sleep.

Moondancer, whispering: Princess!

Sunburst, whispering: Please, ah, watch your step!

Moondancer: We've been putting patients into a magical sleep as we find them.

Celestia: And the two of you are alright?

Moondancer: It's been a strange day in the lab for sure...luckily Sunburst here had the idea to combine bubbles of silence and a gravity reversal spell so we didn't have to stay trapped in a storage closet. Who knows how long it would have taken for us to be discovered!

Sunburst: It wouldn't have been much of a plan if there weren't a spell caster capable of pulling it off!

Moondance: Oh please, this isn't much--Woah!

Moondancer and Sunburst are surprised as something zooms by.

Flash Sentry: Princess, watch out!

Lyra Heartstrings slams into a wall close to everyone. Flash Sentry moves instinctively to shield Celestia. Before anyone else can react, he has a spear pointed at Lyra.

Flash Sentry: Halt! You are charged with unruly flying in the presence of the princess. Put away your wings and come with us quietly...

Lyra Heartstrings: Run!

Flash Sentry looks over his shoulder to see an unrecognizable Fleur De Lis contorting herself through the halls Lyra had just flown from.

Lyra, quietly: Stay silent...she can't see us.

End transcript.

[icannothink123]

Why den is both not purely an animal and can consent.

There alot of textual evidence but if that’s too long here some other form of offical evidence.

Mod statements

Ofifcal dev statements

Before you say “this is fake” or anything else here the link.

Now if you somehow still aren’t convince here the textual evidence and of course major spoilers below

Skeptic (aka lure) Den.

For this case it’s shows some of the clearest case of her humanity.

First of all to get the Tower out of the room the eyes.

If you say “oh it’s just the narrator interpretation” this is textually incorrect as shown below

You think narrator, the guy who literally calls her an animal moments later and is shown a constant horrible hatred of princesses. Would interpret her eyes as saying something so humanizing when that’s the exact opposite of what he wants you to see her as?

Even hero calls this out as shown below

Narrator reply is this

Which shows this isn’t just “just the narrator interpretation” it’s actual factual truth.

Now you may say “she kills you if you flinch! She’s an animals” she is a traumatized reactive woman. As seen in proto beast (stabbing her) how you killed her was by a sudden movement, another sudden moment like flinching might give her a trauma reaction and plus let’s not forget she’s starving and scared.

(Edit)

While you might say her acting on base instincts proves how much of an animal she is but it doesn’t. Often times when in dangerous situations, without much time to think people fall back into instincts behaving animistically, but this doesn’t make them animals.

But it’s states best by this user on discord.

i will add you can be sentient while also reacting to things instinctually. no one acts like the hunted isn't sentient because of his instincts. plus she is genuinely starving in this chapter. she is essentially feral in a lot of ways but in the same way humans can be feral. it's a very human response to extreme stress and trauma to lash out, become unable to speak, fall back on ingrained habits and patterns i.e. attacking someone because they've hurt you or you feel you need to hurt them, etc. she just gets more dangerous limbs to lash out with than a static human would. acting solely on instinct (even instincts that aren't typically human especially for literally not a human) when running on systems designed to force those instinctual reactions (fight or flight mode, trauma, etc) does not remove one's sentience, and you can literally have conversations with her, like if you both get trapped separately under the rubble and she asks if it's her fault you both ended up like this and fully comprehends your varying responses

- logical_leaf in BTG discord [routes and spoilers; The Den.]

Now for freeing her, when you get trapped for yourself what do you guess this ‘animal’ does?

Leave you to die?

No.

She returns for you.

Any animal would have taken the opportunity to leave you behind but she doesn’t. She in fact acutally frees you.

Stubborn (aka fight) Den.

Now you may think stubborn den where you fight her and even descend into madness would prove she is nothing more than an animal but this does the exact opposite.

First of all the shame.

In both cases where you either embrace instinct or take the opening she feels not fear but shame, and over what she have done specifically.

now before you go “well dogs and other animals can feel shame” no they cannot.

Shame is as stated by dictionary (.com) is

the painful feeling arising from the consciousness of something dishonorable, improper, ridiculous, etc., done by oneself or another:

Shame ususally in context comes from feeling you did something wrong and or morally dubious.

Animal have neither of these concepts when say a dog breaks something it’s not shame there feeling it’s fear your going to hurt them, they don’t have a concept morality right or wrong.

Plus even if hypothetically animals could feel shame, what is den feeling shame for?

“What have we done?”

This is stated after violently or repeatly violently murdering each other and even if animals could feel shame I highly doubt any animal would feel shame for… Acting on instinct/engaging in other animalistic behaviors like consumption and violence.

This stems from a point of humanity and if she truly lost her humanity at this point she wouldn’t feel any of that, at best she would probably be upset she didn’t win or wasn’t able to kill what she thought was easy prey.

Now to answer some common arguments against this.

“Well she looks like an animal! So she is an animal and you are a zoo for liking animals!”

Please share where are the giant winged lions are irl and where can I fine them?/J

But I’m underage so I’ll rather not even humor this

Abby straight up said everything in this game was made to be hot so take it up to her for giving a ‘lion’ a snatched waist.

“Well you could get your face bitten off!”

Let’s see what else can happen?

Cut into a trillion pieces

Beaten to death

Disemboweled and tortured for millions of years

crushed by vines

Tortured via chains

Forced to kill yoirself

And alot more

In the grand scheme of things beast/den are actually safer than most princesses when it comes to dating.

Plus people often times fine all of those hot, so what’s wrong with anyone else being attracted to the fact you could be murdered at any time and at her mercy?

And before you say anything please don’t assume I want to fuck beast or den, some others might but bringing it up makes me deeply uncomfortable.

That’s it guys byeeee!

[hannahssimblr]

Hours gone and hours to go, staring out the window at vague green mountains, rainforest, a bleeding scene behind wet glass as the rains go on, drenching the southern arm of Thailand. The train rumbles and the beds in our sleeper cabin squeak. I’ve slept already, for an hour, maybe two with a t-shirt over my face to block the light, while Jonas, pale and silent across from me stares blankly out the window picking at his fingernails, blood vessels burst in his eyes from being sick. Forty minutes in the train bathroom while a queue formed outside, and he’s too hungover to be embarrassed. 

The train to Surat Thani was his idea, and seemed like a great one back in Berlin, looking at pictures of the scenery, the idyllic image of an orange train snaking through jungle. Nine hours seemed reasonable until this morning, when I awoke to him packing his bags, the smell of alcohol seeping from his pores. Trembling and ill. 

“How was last night?” I said. “Must’ve gone well if you slept over.”

“I hate myself,” he replied, and that’s all. Within thirty minutes, we had checked out and boarded the train. 

He hasn’t spoken in about six hours, but in fairness, four he spent sleeping, snoring peacefully in his bunk while I’ve read my book, snacked, perused my phone.

I look again at the message from Astrid I woke up to. 

Here you go.

She’s said, followed by pictures of her in that green dress, front and back in her apartment mirror. She looks stunning like that, her hair a little messy, makeup smudged from an evening in the city, wine drunk too, probably. I can tell by that glazed look on her face. 

The second picture, then, captioned:

Or do you prefer me without?

And she’s naked, laying back, the high points of her sensual body rising out of fizzy pink water. Some kind of bath bomb situation, evidently. This is what I wanted, and it’s extraordinarily erotic, but looking at it in the cold light of day in a train cabin that smells of two unwashed men and the dinner plates the buffet service hasn’t collected yet, the effect is not quite as intended. 

Tbh only thing missing is me in there with my–

I pause and check the world clock app. 9:15AM in Berlin. I go back and delete what I wrote. Bit weird now, considering it’s her morning, and she’s definitely not in the bath still. 

I look at the picture some more anyway, zooming in on different parts, like her collarbone, poking out like that with the angle she holds her neck, the same with her hip, a white peak jutting out of the water. My rapt interest in anatomy, driven by the pressure I feel to enjoy her a suitable amount. 

Men like my grandfather would have gone their whole lives without seeing a woman like this. Maybe once, if they were lucky, and they’d keep a picture of her in their breast pocket or paint her on the side of a bomber jet and go to war. And in the 15th century, you’d carve exquisite statues of bodies like this. Paint masterpieces, and you’d turn her into some ethereal goddess with angels flying all around her, spend years working on a portrait in an attempt to communicate your feelings with a brush and oils, marble and chisels. Driven half mad by her. Compelled to preserve her beauty for eternity. 

Here I am, looking at Astrid on my phone. A body worthy of museums, her frame, not gilded, but a clear silicone phone cover that has been yellowing progressively with use. I’m aware I don’t deserve to be looking at this. The best I can do is turn my screen away from the window so Jonas cannot see her too.

Sorry, was asleep lol. Looking hot af tho! 🥵

At the end of my message I add the red faced, profusely sweating emoji with its tongue out to really drive the point home, and send it, half hoping it won’t deliver. It does. 

Back out to the conversations page to the chat with Evie. Something to stare at and feel bad about. Thinking about you. Why did I write that? Divine intervention that it didn’t send. A reason to believe God is watching over me. 

It’s becoming increasingly obvious I’m demented. What else could explain it? To be the kind of man who has a girlfriend that others would die for, letting me do whatever to her, a folder on my phone now of pictures that the weirdos in her Instagram comments would pay real money to look at. Each night, saying she loves me down the phone, and I text a girl I knew for two months last summer? What way would my brain show up in an MRI scan? Very abnormal, the doctor would mutter, and I’d be like, yeah, I had an inkling. 

Maybe I’m just curious, seeking closure. I’d like to know how she’s doing. What colleges she applied for. What she thought of the leaving cert, if she found it hard. She would have finished this week, maybe last. What was it like for her? Desks lined up in some PE hall, no doubt. Old convent windows, summer sunshine catching dust. Her hands smoothing the docket, nails painted. Colourful nails always, and hair done up in some elaborate double plait French thing. She hated how flat she thought her hair was. Then going out to the pub afterwards, a bottle of Corona with a wedge of lime in the neck, going down easy. Eighteen now. Wow. I never wished her a happy birthday. Would have felt weird doing it.

I go through my pictures. There aren’t many, only the ones Jen took on her camera and sent to me. I know where to find them, at the beginning of the roll underneath all those nightclub shots and pictures of Astrid in Italy. Dalia and Elias at the lake. Me and Jonas in the park last September. It’s been a long time since I was here, staring at that one photo I once obsessed over. It’s the only good one I have of her. At the festival, taken in the crowd, and I'm looking at her, she doesn't see me doing it, and her face luminous, dusted with glitter. She was amazing. If only I–

New message from Astrid. 

Thank you for your enthusiasm. Anything for my fans. 

I exhale a laugh. That’s funny. Amusement is followed by the dreadful sense I’ve been caught doing something illegal. Wondering why I’m reliving all this old stuff. What am I trying to feel? I tap the corner of the picture, delete it, and Evie vanishes. I relax my shoulders, relieved, absolved of sin.

 “Something good on your phone?” Jonas says. 

“Nah, I was trying to text Astrid, but I have a poor signal.”

“Ah. Yes. We are in the middle of nowhere.”

“Yeah?” I peer out at oceans of dense vegetation, mist layered between the trees. “Long journey, isn’t it?”

He looks at his phone. “Three hours to go, then another four on the bus.”

“Music to my ears.”

He attempts a laugh. 

“Do you want to talk or something?”

“About what?”

“I don’t know. We can also not talk, if that’s what you prefer.”

“Talking would be nice if my head was clear, and I didn’t feel so unwell. Sorry. I know I’m not bringing a lot of fun on this journey for you. I thought it would be better, but…” he trails off miserably, and I nod. “It’s fine. Been there. We can also just sit.”

“Is it okay for me to say I don’t want to do this kind of thing anymore? I mean, going out and drinking so much and having so many drugs.”

I chuckle. “That’s the classic thing, isn’t it? We always say that, and then a few days later we’re out doing it all again. The circle of life. You mean that now, but I know you.”

“I think I mean it. I’ve had enough. I am tired of being sick and worrying so much about the things I may have said or done. My life has been this way for so many years.”

“Mine too.”

“It ruins everything.”

“Like with that girl last night?”

He chews his lip. “Nothing happened. I was too drunk. She left me to sleep on the couch and I ran away in the morning before she woke up.”

“Oh.”

“And I don’t want things to be like that anymore. I don’t want to feel so stupid. She was a nice person, and I humiliated myself.”

My phone sits hot in my palm, a token of my guilt and stupidity. “Maybe you’re right, then. Maybe we should stop.”

“You think you will?” 

I almost tell him about last night, and the text, and Evie and the reasons I felt driven to, as I so often do when high and lonely, when that innate melancholy I carry creeps in, but I stop myself. I don’t talk about the past with people from my present. There is no point. It’s over, and I have already walked away from it. 

“Yeah, I think I’ll probably have to. I recognise it isn’t doing me any favours.”

A half-smile, then. “What will Elias and Dalia think?”

“Of us going all straight-edge? I dunno. We’ll find out in Berlin.” I stretch my arms and neck, stiff from sitting so long. “I think I’ll walk the corridors for a bit, if you don’t mind.”

“Okay.”

And as I do that, stroll up and down the hallways, peeking into other cabin, using the bathroom, admiring nature from a window at the rear of the train, I consider the good intentions and promises I have made in my life. The girlfriends I promised I’d always care about, the grades I said I’d uphold, the fitness I said I’d reach, the bedroom I said I’d eventually clean, friends I swore I’d stay in touch with… Saying I’ll stop doing drugs is kind of like that, just something said for the sake of saying it, to create a pretence that I’m a person who makes wise or healthy choices without ever intending to follow through. I can’t stand the pressure. I’ll act this way in Thailand for Jonas’ benefit, and feel better for it, knowing in a month I’ll be in the Berghain toilets again, accepting mystery pills from people in latex vests. 

Back in the cabin, he reclines, leafing through his travel guide. “All good?” he says, and I nod. “I think I’ll try to sleep for a bit.”

“Okay then. If you sleep too long, I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

I lay down, my face in the pillow and listen to sounds of pattering rain, squeaky bunks and the pages of the book, and I sleep, deep, sound, all the way to the end of the line.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[tribalauthor]

THE WISEWOMAN (roman reigns ff) <chapter 2>

word count: 2.2k

"I'm sorry we had to meet this way, Miss Heyman." my future boss started with this. He is a pretty tall man with no hair and a lot of beard. People know him as Triple H or "The Game" but right now he is the CEO of WWE, replacing his problematic father in law, Vince McMahon.

Yes, I was studying the whole day and night yesterday. I knew some stuff from uncle but it's literally common sense. I have always respected the work he is doing in WWE but my interest wasn't that deep. Now it had to become deep since I want to appear as well-educated as much as possible. I don't wanna be perceived as a spoiled, dumb-blonde nepo niece.

"Me too, Mr. Levesque but see, this is how life is." I said with empathetic tone.

"I don't know what Paul has told you about the payment but you are gonna get paid depending on your performances - you do good numbers, you get a good check. Your uncle is a very well-known and respected figure in this business and I am not sure how the crowd is going to react to all of this" what a great way to explain that I will have a salary only if I do my job right.

What a shocker.

"Don't worry, Mr. Levesque. I see where you are coming from. In this male-dominated industry, it's rare to see a female talker " I chuckled but this isn't the end.

"I know that my uncle is one of a kind but I am going to specify that he insisted me to do this job and if he didn't think I was suitable for it, he would have never said it in the first place, let alone persuade me to leave my current job. Therefore, I'm really confident about all of this. Sure, the WWE fans have a very fixed and nostalgic tendencies but I think they are going to get used to this short-term novelty." I spoke with pure confidence in my voice and body language.

My boss was left speechless. I get these reactions a lot honestly. When people see me, especially men, they have no idea how I can shush them just in a few seconds...or minutes. Depends on the monologue I'm going to drop on them.

"I uh appreciate the confidence, Miss Heyman. I hope you like it here and who knows, maybe you can become a full-time employee" Paul reached his arm for a shake and I shook his hand.

"Thank you for hiring me, Mr. Levesque and can't promise anything about the last part" I chuckled.

"Just call me Hunter. We are not that formal in here". He gave me a faint smile.

"Noted". I nodded my head and someone knocked on the door.

"That must be him" my boss stated. "Come in" he yelled.

Our eyes were at the door and there he is.

The Tribal Chief as he is called. The Head of the Table. His tall and stoic build radiates so much power and dominance. That's an enormous man right there. Well, he is The Rock's cousin, so I get it. It's in the genes.

He was wearing a black Nike hoodie and black Nike shorts combined with black Nike sneakers. Is this man a Nike ambassador? What's next? Nike boxers?

Let's not go there, Sophia.

Roman had his dark brown hair in a bun but it was not very slick, his hair looks fluffy and he had this pretty thick salt and pepper beard.

Yup, such an uncle. An athletic one, though.

"Roman, you are just on time." the boss greeted him.

Roman's eyes were all on me looking at me from head to toe. There was a nuance of disbelief in his eyes mixed with a smirk on his mouth.

How do I interpret this?

"This is gonna be my Wise Woman? Pf." Something like this is going through his mind.

The Samoan man was walking to us. Of course, he has that confident "Look at me, I'm the toughest of them all" gait. And he has the right to, yes. That man and his whole bloodline have achieved so much in this business which is worth of respect.

"Meet your temporary Wise Woman". Hunter said with a state tone.

"So you are Sophia." Roman flashed his 24-carat-white-pearl smile. "Paul just told me a lot about you."

"And you are the Tribal Chief my uncle never shuts up about" I replied and he chuckled. I haven't even started yet.

...

"Funny, your uncle has never told me Barbie was his niece. If you are looking for a Ken, this ain't the place for you." ah, we started with the "witty comments", took him long enough.

"Thank you for the concern, Mr. Reigns but finding a Ken is not in my top priorities right now."

"I see, I see. You are all about business, right?" he asked and slightly furrowed his eyebrows.

"Correct". I nodded my head. And there was this awkward silence.

He started showing me around the building and finally we went to his locker room. "This is our little place where me and your uncle like to scheme" Roman said with a smile on his face.

"Woah. It's pretty spacious." that's all what I managed to say.

When I heard about the locker room thing, I didn't imagine it to look like this. This place looks...neat. Well maybe my views about wrestling are stereotypical but in my mind there was a very small, messy place with the heavy smell of sweat.

This locker room is like an apartment. There are a few black leather couches and armchairs, fridges which are probably full of energy, sugar free drinks or whatever athletes drink, maybe even some food. The walls were painted in dark blue like the brand of the show Roman is in - Smackdown. There was also a big TV on the wall where he probably watches the other matches and stuff.

It's cozy, not gonna lie.

"The best room is for the champ" he said quietly but with that cocky tone and winked at me.

I didn't know how to react. I just nodded and smiled.

"Have you ever slept here?" I asked out of nowhere.

"Hell no. When we travel with the private bus, we usually sleep there since it's like a big apartment and when we use the private jet, we head off immediately." oh, so he has private everything I see.

How much does that man make?

"Sometimes your uncle is in a mood of seeing around the place we have to stay at. He knows the good stuff" Roman sighed. "I'm gonna miss him. Hope he recovers soon."

"He will. He is in good hands. My auntie is gonna take after him." I said trying not to burst out laughing. Yes, in fact, my cousins said she is really going to take after uncle and I'm sure he wants to die right now cause he was damn ready to call a hot babysitter chick and he would have gotten better in a blink of an eye or at least he would claim so.

"What? Your auntie? As in his ex-wife? Miranda?" Roman was as confused as me. Uncle has enlightened him, 100%. I nodded my head and Roman started laughing. He has a very cute laugh actually, not as deep as his voice.

It's strange seeing an enormous man like him, perceived as tough and scary, laughing like a little kid.

"Then there is no place for concern. He is gonna be back before we even realize it." he wiped the little tear that formed in his eye.

I wonder if he's married. He might be. I don't know but I am not going to ask him, that's for sure.

"I think that uncle is exaggerating. Auntie Miranda is not that bad". I tried to defend her but Roman gave me the look of "oh, you don't know anything".

"Clearly, Paul has never told you the spicy details". This line alone made me think of how does my ex, Robert, paint me out in front of his friends.

I didn't realize I completely zoned out until I saw Roman's big hand waving in front of my face.

"Is everything alright?" he asked with a tiny bit of concern in his face. Very tiny bit.

"Yes. I would like to ask about my schedule, by the way" he made a sign for me to sit on the black leather couch.

"Would you like some coffee, tea, energy drink or why not wine or champagne?" he asked while going to the fridge.

"Thought athletes didn't drink alcohol." I raised my eyebrow.

"Sometimes we need it, sweetie." he slightly chuckled and opened the fridge.

"Water would be okay, thank you, Mr. Reigns." I heard him chuckling while reaching for the water bottle.

"Nah, don't Mr. me. Just call me Roman...or Joe." he came to me and handed me the water bottle, looking at me dead in the eye.

"Which one do you prefer?" I asked with a little smirk.

"Anything works for me." he shrugged and I thanked him for the water. "My Tribal Chief works the best, though." he said innocently and I laughed.

"Yeah, no" I shook my head with a fake smile on my face. "The Tribal Chief stuff is only for camera. I'm not crazy like my uncle" I just got flashbacks from yesterday how he started talking about his Tribal Chief stuff. A fatal 4-way match at the Royal Rumble and Wrestlemania 40.

"There's no way he said this" His whole face is smiling when he laughs, his eyes almost go away. It's adorable, not going to lie.

"He so did" I sighed.

"Paul takes his job very, very seriously and if we're being real there would be no Tribal Chief without him. He made me think of ways that elevated me and my bloodline to a whole new level" Roman suddenly started speaking on a serious note. I am so glad to hear that so many people appreciate my uncle but nothing will ever beat the things he has done for me.

"That's why he is my favorite man ever" I sighed.

I saw Roman reaching out to the cupboard and taking a list from there.

"So here's the schedule." he handed me the paper and Lord, when I saw this, I almost passed out.

"That many appearances? How many promos I have to prepare?" my eyes almost popped out after seeing everything.

"It's Wrestlemania season, baby. It's tough out here." he stroked his gold shiny belt which was over the cupboard.

"Can I hold it?" I said looking at that magnificent championship which was literally dripping in ice.

"Sure. You better get ready to hold it a lot." I stood up and he handed it to me. I put it over my shoulder exactly like uncle does and not gonna lie, I feel powerful.

"Whoa. That's a bit heavier than I imagined." I spoke frankly.

"It looks good on you." Roman complimented me. "Look at yourself." he pointed at the mirror at the other side of the room. It was really looking good on my pleated light brown dress.

"May I wrap it around me?" I asked with enthusiasm.

"Let me do it for you." he took the belt and wrapped it around my waist.

My eyes were glued to the mirror.

He got a bit closer to me and his muscle figure completely towering over me and I am with heels. I can't imagine if I'm not. His masculine cologne hit my nostrills just right.

"You smell so good." he suddenly said and caught me a bit off guard.

"Thank you." I managed to say.

"Your waist is so little." he remarked as he chuckled softly and glued the belt. It really looks very big on me.

"Are you working out?" he asked.

"I do pilates." I replied and turned to him. He had that impressed expression on his face while I was expecting him to criticize me or be skeptical.

"Great. It does a great work." he stated as he was glancing at my body and I furrowed my eyebrows. "I mean in getting in shape." why does he look nervous?

If I don't say something soon, he will probably turn red.

"Well, it can't beat yours." I chuckled slightly. "You probably train for like 8 hours a day or something."

"Sometimes it's 8, it depends. But usually is like 3 or 4." my jaw was on the floor.

"Crazy. I might die if I have to do a workout of yours." I shook my head accepting my fate.

"I can figure something out for you. We can train together sometime." Roman suggested.

"We'll see if I will ever prepare for that...physically and mentally." I gave an uncertain answer.

"Come on. You can make me do some pilates and you make me do weights. I think I'd be a fun hang out."

Hang out.

"Probably." I squinted my eyes trying to visualise this and I couldn't help but imagine him doing some pilates exercises and I couldn't help but laugh. I put my hand on my mouth.

"What did you just envision, young lady?" Roman seemed confused.

"Nothing." I lied. "I just...remembered something funny."

He gave me that look of suspicion, obviously not trusting what I'm saying and I just laughed again.

[yelenasdiary]

this might be weirdly specific but would you be able to write a fic where Kate Bishop is (fem)reader's best friend and she comforts reader after a breakup and it leads to romance? Could be fluff or smut, idrc

Take Your Time

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Fem! Reader (Platonic to Romance)

Summary: After dealing with a breakup, your best friend is here to help you get over you ex anyway she can.

Angst, Fluff, Comfort

Warnings: None, if there is any, please let me know | 1.4K

AC: I missed writing for Kate so much!! Thank you for sending this! I hope you enjoy x

It had been weeks since you and your ex-girlfriend broke up, but the heartache still lingered. You took some time for yourself trying to enjoy your hobbies once again, trying to not let the little things remind you of a love you once had. It wasn’t like you both ended on bad terms, but it still didn’t ease the feeling of your heart being broken into a million tiny pieces. 

The night was young, and the city of New York was loud and vibrant with its night life. Even with the light rain that trickled over the city, that didn’t stop the city from becoming a city of magic on a Friday night. While everybody was making it clear they were glad it was Friday, chit chatter from the street floated its way into your apartment by the open window of your bedroom, you were lying on the sofa with another case of red, puffy eyes. 

The throw pillow had a damp spot from your afternoon tears as trashy romantic movies played on the television, you knew it wasn’t going to help you heal but something drove you to just spend the afternoon binge watching the classics. Your phone would light up every now and then only to be ignored, your eyes not even moving from the television to see the who was trying to contact you. 

Your afternoon of self-torture was cut short when your best friend, Kate, let herself into your apartment. “Alright, let’s turn this crap off” she said, reaching for the television's remote and turning the screen black. 

“Kate! I was watching that” you groaned, slowly forcing yourself to sit up. 

“I know but” she paused, dropping her backpack to your feet and taking a seat next to you, making herself comfortable, “I think you forget that having friends around you in a time like this helps. So, here I am and in that bag is plenty of snacks, mostly your favourite ones” she continued with a soft smile. 

You sighed lightly, defeated by your friends kindness, “I guess you’re right” you said before reaching for her backpack. “Of course I am, you know who I am, right?” Kate joked, making you laugh for the first time in what felt like a very long time. “So, you’ve had a break from the world and now you’ve locked yourself away in this apartment. It’s time to have some fun!” She added. 

“Honestly, I’m not really up for… um, fun right now” you replied, your eyes stinging with every blink. 

“Fine,” she said dramatically, “then we’ll just sit here until you realize how amazing you are and how ridiculously terrible your ex was” Kate teasingly smiled.

A small laugh escaped your lips despite yourself, and Kate seized the opportunity as she nudged you with her elbow. “See? I knew I could get you to laugh more than once” she said proudly as you playfully rolled your eyes at your friend before opening up a bag of your favorite potato chips. “Okay, fine, you can stay but under one condition” you replied before munching on a few chips. 

“Go on?” Kate questioned. 

“We don’t talk about her, like ever” you muttered, your mouth still somewhat full. Kate let out a chuckle, “fine by me, I came over here to watch a bulk load of action and comedy movies, eat some pizza and tell you about this thing Clint did on a mission last week!” Your friend smirked as she reached for the television remote again. 

----

As the night went into the early hours of the morning, losing complete track of time as you watched movie after movie with your best friend. Your coffee table littered with rubbish of pizza boxes, empty soda cans and juice boxes, empty bowls of melted leftover sundaes, chop sticks along with the small take-out boxes from the Thai restaurant a few blocks over, it was truly a mess. 

You couldn’t believe that you allowed yourself to even for a moment to forget just how much fun you always had with Kate. Each movie you guys watched; she’d have you laughing to the point of tears by her like banter with the different characters. With both your stomachs full, the night life of New York City slowly fades from the chit chatter of pedestrians on the street to loud truck horns and trains on the train line. 

Not only did the city start to calm down but so did your apartment. Tiredness would soon start to hit you, reminding you just how late in the night it was. Gently, you rested your head on Kate’s shoulder, “thank you for making my day” you said softly, your eyes focused on the movie playing on the television. Kate smiled softly to herself, ignoring the way her heart skipped a beat at your actions. 

“You’re welcome” she replied, “I know break ups suck but you can’t wallow in it forever” she added. 

“I know, I guess…I guess I just hated not knowing what to do. You always hear stories of people growing apart, but I never thought I would relate to that” you admitted, sighing heavily to yourself. 

“You deserve so much better” Kate spoke softly, “I mean, who breaks up with somebody over text? To me, that kinda says they didn’t care too much. You deserve somebody who loves you for you, who’s stomach gets all twisted and full of butterflies whenever you walk into the room, you deserve somebody who’s face feels warm when you la-“Kate stopped herself mid-sentence abruptly and quickly reached for her drink. Her sudden shift made you frown ever so slightly. 

“Kate?” You said calmly, “are you okay?” You asked. 

Kate turned to you and smiled softly, “I’m good, I guess I just missed hanging out with you” she replied, feeling her stomach turn on her. Her eyes quickly moved back to the television, leaving you to watch her become slightly nervous. 

Gently, you placed a hang on top of her knee, allowing yourself to sit up right again. “Kate, come on, what’s going on?” You asked her. She took a sip of her soda to give herself that short extra seconds to panic on the inside before she nervously swallowed the mouthful of soda and looking at you once again, this time struggling to keep eye contact. 

“Please don’t freak out, I know things at too soon and look at me go, good one Kate! About to mess things up!” She rolled her eyes at her own frustration, “I never really liked you being with her becau-“ she paused once again as she looked into your eyes and saw nothing but care and patience as you gave her the time she needed to gather her words. “because I think you’re incredible and they never deserved you in the first place….and I think if anybody is going to spoil you and love you for who you are….I want it to be me” she continued. Her eyes dropped once again; this time worried for any form of rejection. 

Carefully you cupped her face with one hand, wanting her to look at you. She looked at you like a lost puppy who’d thought they had done something wrong. Her eyes making you smile softly at her as you crushed a lock of her long dark hair behind her ear, “you didn’t mess anything up Katie” you started, “I’ve always been in awe of you but in all honesty, I didn’t think you would ever look at me more than just a friend” you added, making Kate smile softly at you.

“Would it be awful of me to say that I’m so glad a broken heart pushed a confession out of me?” The archer asked nervously. Her words made you chuckle, “I’m starting to think of it more a of a bless of some kind. Maybe it this was exactly how things were supposed to go” you replied, your eyes sparkled from the glow from the television giving Kate another reason to admire your beauty without the worry of being caught. 

Kate took a deep breath, “so, what now?” She asked.

“We take our time, enjoy this new chapter... and see where it leads us,” you replied, “if that is something you’d be interest in of course” you quickly added, your own fear of rejection suddenly creeping in. Kate gently took a hold of your hand, removing it from her cheek “I’d like that, one moment at a time” she spoke softly. “Maybe next week I could take you out on an actual date?” Kate asked, feeling the warmth of your comfort embracing her as you gave her a soft nod, “it’s a date, Katie” you said before placing a kiss on her warm cheek.

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