#I’m sure I’m leaving some stuff out on accident but

[l00rem]

I can’t be the only one that finds this suspicious, right? An accident that he can’t even remember is odd to me, I know stuff like that happens but I definitely think there’s more to her death.

Gibeon was potentially hinting that she was the one who ‘strayed from the path’ so could he have orchestrated her death after she decided to betray him? Sort of reminds me of the the irl case of Princess Diana, who died in a car crash but people speculate that her death was orchestrated due to her activism which the royal family didn’t agree with.

Alternatively, she might not actually be dead but faked it with the crash. I’m not entirely sure how that’d work considering they’d need a body to identify, unless she had help of some sort? Perhaps Crave knows she’s alive and that’s why he’s hesitant to tell amethio anything.

Still, seems there’s more to uncover regarding this. Hamber received a very much distorted version of the events which conveniently left out the part where the rakrium could destroy the world and added in lucius betraying gibeon, so maybe amemom found out the truth of what really happened somehow? Currently Amethio seems to be going for Spinel to protect Gibeon, but we know from the trailer that he’ll be fighting against gibeon.. really don’t know why they spoiled that, it would’ve been nice to see amethio reach that point without knowing even if i expected him to ally with the rvt for the end of this arc.

I am a little disappointed they went down the root of amethio not really remembering his mom but that definitely opens the possibility for her to be explored more in the future. We didn’t even get her name so i’m sure there’s more to her for us to learn. If she is still alive she could be hiding out in rakua? But then why wouldn’t she take amethio too is the bigger question, because if she’s alive then she’s just left her son to go through the same indoctrination that she went through.

Really hoping we see more of her and I doubt they’d just leave it at that. They fleshed out Rystal pretty well so I have high hopes for her as well.

btw the fact they chose to have this pic with a wingull only adds to my umineko comparison delusions… when the wingulls cry none shall be left alive…

[grlwtskulltattoo]

Fly Low Carrion Crow

Note: What have I done… Only attempting to combine my two favorite things, SOA and The Last Kingdom…Okay so this is definately going to be a multi part story. Too many ideas floating in my head on how this may all play out. Just hope I can do it justice. I did edit the beginning just a smidge from the preview I posted earlier. Just trying to get some background laid out. There will be drama…and a little trauma in the future, cause that how I roll…all about the drama… oh and for sure some smut in the future…can’t forget that part. Haha.

Warnings: slight assault from creepy Sven, but nothing major

Pairing: Sihtric x OC (Octavia)

Summary: We get our first introduction to the Sons of Valhalla MC. Octavia, the sister of Ragnar and Uhtred, visits a bar on the wrong side of town. (oh and I kind of suck at summaries)

Wordcount: 3k

First part of many....

Walking out from one of the dorm rooms in the back of the clubhouse, Octavia, is greeted with hoots and hollers from the bikers hanging out at the bar. Loud music is already playing, and the members of the motorcycle club are slapping back shots to celebrate another shipment of guns received with no issues. She playfully glares at the men giving her cat calls, as she grabs her leather jacket off of one of chairs near the bar. She knows they are just teasing her. Glancing towards the chapel, she sees through the window that Uhtred and Ragnar are in a deep conversation at the table. A serious look on both of their faces. She’s not sure she wants to know what that’s all about.

“Hey, hey….where are ye off to?” Finan asks, holding his hands up to stop her.

“I’m going out with some friends… to a bar.” Octavia answers her older brother’s best-friend. She doesn’t miss the way he appraises her outfit; tight black jeans, black button down low cut sleeveless shirt and her riding boots. The darkness that comes to his eyes as he licks his lips, gives her a little thrill, even though she knows they are both off limits. She gives him a little smirk, just to tease Finan a bit.

Once he snaps out of Octavia entrancing appearance, Finan gives her a confused look as he motions to the fully stocked bar they are standing next to. “Invite yer friends here… I’m sure we can entertain them.”

“Yeah, no… I’m not bringing my friends here for all you guys to hit on. I keep my friends separate from this.” Octavia motions to the clubhouse. 

It’s bad enough one of her best friends has already expressed an interest in meeting her brother, Uhtred, but Gisela has no idea the kind of stuff they are mixed up in. Gun running, distribution, and rival clubs trying to come after them. It’s not an easy life, but it’s all they know. Her older brothers took over the MC and the business after their parents died in an accident. Their father was the founder of the club.

Finan gives her a look like he’s going to argue with her, but he stops himself. He knows he can’t win this fight, she is just as stubborn as the rest of them, and she’s not wrong. All of the men will be hitting on her friends.

“You know….we could go in the back, like old times…” Octavia bats her lashes at Finan as she places her hands on his hips drawing herself closer to him. She slowly licks her upper lip seductively before giving him a flirty smile. One of her hands creeping up his chest, smiling as she remembers his hard muscles.

Finan almost forgets that Octavia is off limits as he lets her pull his body closer to hers. The memories of them hooking up in the past quickly coming to mind. He starts to lower his face to hers to kiss her, but he growls before making contact. He forces himself out of her hold reluctantly. “Tavia… yer brothers will have me balls if we do that. Can’t take that chance.”

“That’s too bad… I was really hoping.” She teases the Irishman with her eyebrow raised. Putting on her leather jacket, she prepares to leave. “I’m going to the bar then…tell my brothers not to wait up for me.” She says as she walks towards the door.

Finan lets out a groan as he watches her walk away, having to adjust himself from the effect she has on him. “Hey…” He shouts out to her. “Be careful…things are a bit unsettled right now.” There is a darkness in his eyes as he gives her a stern look.

Octavia looks back at Finan before she walks out the door. All of the men are protective of her, with her being Ragnar and Uhtred’s little sister. “I will…” She assures him with a seriousness in her voice as she looks in his eyes. 

Even though she’s not a member of the club, she is still part of it. It’s the family business. They never tell her all the details of what they do, but she knows enough, especially when there is the potential for retaliation for something they have done. Not to mention, there is always the threats from their rivals.

Stepping outside the clubhouse, Octavia takes a deep breath of the cool evening air. The heat of the day finally wearing off. Walking over to her bike, she takes her helmet off the handlebars, before cinching it on her head. Straddling her dark red Harley, she starts the engine, then she kicks up the kickstand. Twisting the throttle she revs up the bike a little, loving the sounds coming from the exhaust. 

Loud pipes, saves lives…. She lets out a bittersweet chuckle as she remembers what her dad always said.

Pulling her phone from her pocket, she sends a quick text to her friends Eadith, Gisela and Aethelflaed, letting them know she’s on her way to the bar they are meeting at.

The bar that Octavia rides to is on the other side of town. The part of town where she really shouldn’t be, but hopefully nobody recognizes her and tries to start trouble. She parks her bike and shuts off the engine. After pulling off her helmet, she shakes out her long dark brown hair, before hanging the helmet on her handlebars.

As she walks to the front door she can already hear the loud music and voices within. Glancing around outside she takes in her surroundings before heading inside to find her friends.The atmosphere in the bar reminds her of the clubhouse. Loud rock music, rough looking men, and skimpily dressed women hanging all over the men. Spotting her friends, she quickly walks over the their table, feeling a little unsettled here.

“What made you guys decide to come here? Seems a little sketchy.” Octavia asks, as she finds herself constantly scanning the bar looking for possible threats. The place makes her feel uncomfortable.

Aethelflaed gives her a sheepish look. “Erik invited me here, and I didn’t want to come alone… Here have a shot.” The dark haired woman slides over a shot glass filled with amber colored liquid.

“Erik? The guy you’ve been seeing for the past couple of weeks?” Octavia asks. “Where is he?” Her friend hasn’t said much about this new man she’s been dating.

Aethelflaed points to the man behind the bar, pouring shots and grabbing beers for the customers. When the large blond haired man notices, he gives her a wink and a soft smile. “He said we could drink for free…” Aethelflaed giggles, as she glances back over at him with a dreamy smile.

Octavia shakes her head, not too sure about her friend’s choice in men. Not that she is one to judge, given the type of men she hangs out with all the time. She’s just concerned that her friend might be a little naive to the kind of stuff he maybe tied into.

The friends fall into a comfortable conversation, laughing and joking as shot after shot is downed. Octavia tries to pace herself, not wanting to let her guard down too much. Gisela of course mentions her brother again, wanting to meet him, which Octavia brushes off that he’s been busy with the business lately. When Eadith mentions Finan, Octavia finds herself bristling a bit. She’ll always have a soft spot for the Irishman, especially since he was her first, before he joined the Sons of Valhalla with Uhtred. After which Ragnar and Uhtred forbade them from dating, not wanting to cause a riff in the club if they ever broke up.

A group of men walk into the bar, and Octavia’s keen senses take notice. Her eyes are instantly drawn to one of the men. It’s hard not to notice him with his dark half-shaved hair, and eyes that almost look mismatched. He glances in her direction and she blushes when he smiles at her, before she quickly looks away. Her friends notice the exchange and start teasing her that she should go talk to him, but Octavia shakes her head no. She didn’t come here looking for a hookup.

Focusing her attention on her friends, Octavia tries to avoid looking in the sexy man’s direction, but she can’t help stealing glances at him. She does notice that he and the other men he arrived with are hanging around the pool table talking to some of the other patrons of the bar. One of the men, wearing an eye patch gives her the creeps when he starts leering at her, making her feel uncomfortable. When she glares back at him, she finally notices the kutte he’s wearing. She glances at one of the other men whose back is to her and see the flash emblazoned on the back of the kutte. Midnight Raiders. Kjartan’s crew. Her stomach drops, as she quickly stands up.

“Shit… I have to go….I can’t stay.” She quickly says to her friends, as she grabs her coat from the back of her chair.

Her friends look at her in confusion, with disappointment on their faces. “You just got here… the night is still young.” Eadith pipes up.

Octavia knows her friends don’t really understand the danger she is in. If those men figure out that she’s the sister of Ragnar and Uhtred Ragnarson, that she’s tied to the Sons of Valhalla, they may try to harm her. She can’t help the look of disgust she gives the man with the eye patch, as he gives her a sinister smile. There has always been a suspicion amongst her brothers that the Midnight Raiders had something to do with their parents deaths, but of course they couldn’t prove anything. She just knows that they have been enemies for as long as she can remember.

“Sorry, ladies… We’ll get together another time. Somewhere else… I’ll call you, later.” Octavia takes a nervous look around the bar. Her eyes land briefly on the sexy dark-haired man, standing in the corner near the pool table. She feels a little disappointed that he’s with the enemy. She really would have been curious to get to know him, especially with how drawn to him she already feels.

Quickly striding to the door, Octavia takes a deep calming breath of air once she is outside, resting her hand on her pounding heart. If her brothers knew she was here, at a bar that is obviously controlled by the Midnight Raiders, she will be in so much trouble. They’ll start making one of the prospects babysit her, to keep her safe.

As she walks to her bike, she doesn’t realize at first that she’s being followed. When someone grabs her arm to stop her, she feels a panic enter her chest. Looking up, it’s the man with the eye patch that was leering at her. Her heart starts pounding in her chest in fear, but she does her best to hide it as she glares at the man for daring to touch her.

“Let go of me!” Her voice growls out, each word clipped.

“Where are you going, pretty lady? I thought we could spend sometime together…have some fun.” The man’s voice turns her stomach. The tone of it is almost sickly smooth.

The look in his eye as he looks down her body, sends a chill down Octavia’s spine. “Get your fucking hands off of me.” She spits out with venom in her voice. Her other hand sneaking into her jacket pocket to grip the knife she always keeps on her.

Squinting his one eye at her, he looks at Octavia as if he recognizes her. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

Her stomach drops at his question, and she feels a fresh wave of panic come over her. His grip on her arm tightens, as he tries to pull her closer to him. Octavia digs in her heels, as her other hand is about to pull out her knife. Before she does they are both distracted by a voice calling out.

“Sven!…Sven, let her go!”

Looking towards the door of the bar, she sees the sexy dark-haired man from earlier. The look on his face as he strides towards them would be frightening if it was directed at her, but she can tell his anger is directed at the other man.

“This is not how you treat a lady.” He growls out as he grabs Sven’s arm, squeezing until the other man releases her. “Get back inside and leave her alone.” He pushes the larger man away.

Rubbing the sore spot on her arm, Octavia watches as Sven slinks back into the bar. She releases a sigh of relief when he is no longer in sight.

“I’m sorry… did he hurt you? He’s nothing but a brute, has no idea how to treat a lady.” The sexy man says as he glares towards the door of the bar, making sure Sven is gone.

“No…I’m fine.” Octavia says softly, not wanting to draw more attention to herself.

“I can walk you to your car…make sure you’re safe.” He gives her a concerned look.

Octavia feels a little flutter in her heart that she tries to ignore. This can’t happen, she reminds herself. He is the enemy. “I…I don’t have a car.” She replies as she points to her bike in the distance.

He gives her a surprised smile as he starts to walk her to her Harley. “You ride?” He asks excitedly.

Softly nodding her head, Octavia can’t help but smile at the way his face lights up in excitement. His smile is infectious and his mesmerizing eyes are doing things to her stomach, despite her efforts to ignore it. “I’ve been riding since I was a kid…it kind of runs in the family.”

Octavia can’t help but chuckle when he haunches down to look over her bike once they reach it. Her bike is anything but stock. Her and her brothers have spent hours customizing the bike to her liking. Adding a custom exhaust, changing out the air filter cover and fuse box. There are too many details to list, but someone with a trained eye could pick up on them.

“It’s beautiful….just like its rider.” He smiles at her, with his sly little comment.

A little blush colors her cheeks at the compliment as she looks away, trying to hide the smile coming to her face. “I should really get going…”

“Oh, shit…where are my manners. My name is Sihtric…” He holds out his hand with an endearing smile on his face.

Looking Sihtric over, Octavia can’t help the smirk that comes to her face looking at his haircut. It is definitely unique, but she finds that she likes it…almost too much. She reluctantly holds out her hand, giving his a little shake. She is caught off guard when he brings her palm to his lips and leaves a light kiss. She feels her cheeks turn a shade redder, as she glances away.

“Ok…well… it was nice to meet you, Sihtric, but I really must get going…” Before you figure out who I am… 

Octavia can feel herself falling more and more under his spell. He is beyond sexy, and he seems to have a tenderness about him. She feels a war of emotions playing inside her being near him. She would love nothing more than to go home with him and see where things lead, but the risks involved are just too great.

“I’m sorry…I didn’t catch your name.” He tries to prod, not quite ready for her to leave.

Letting out a sigh, Octavia bites her lip. He definitely isn’t making this easy. “Octavia…but my friends just call me Tavia.” She avoids telling him her last name, wanting to prevent the shit-storm that will stir up.

“Tavia....I like that.” Sihtric grins at her, his smile turning a little flirty. “Any chance I can get your number?” He smoothly asks.

Yeah…no. “Sorry…I don’t give out my number to random men I just met.” She rebuffs him as she shakes her head. The more questions he asks her the more nervous she gets, she can feel her heart starting to race.

“But how will I get ahold of you? Take you out sometime?” He asks, the disappointment clear in his voice.

“You won’t. This can’t happen. You’re cute and all…..but I just can’t. Sorry…” Octavia walks with resolve to the front of her bike to grab her helmet, quickly cinching it on her head. “Thanks again for saving me back there… I appreciate it, but I have to go now.”

Starting up her bike to drown out any more attempts from Sihtric to coax more information out of her, she gives him a quick nod before straddling the seat. She backs out of the parking spot, then revs the bike a little before putting it in gear and taking off. She takes a quick glance behind her, a little sad at how forlorn Sihtric looks watching her ride away.

This is how it has to be. It would never work. He is the enemy. My brothers would kill me if I hooked up with a Midnight Raider. Gods, he is so hot though…

Sihtric stands there in stunned silence as he watches Octavia ride away. He’s never had a beautiful woman flat out refuse to give him their number, and it makes him want her all the more. She’s not like the other women he has seen, who practically throw themselves at him. Just the little bit of interaction he had with her, he can tell she’s a little sassy, and he kind of likes it. Not to mention she rides a bike, which makes her that much more sexy in his eyes.

To say he’s intrigued by her, would be an understatement. He can’t get her out of his head.

But how can I find her?….

It takes everything inside him not to jump on his bike and follow her, but he doesn’t want to come off as a creep and freak her out. He’ll find her… Somehow. Someday…

Note: If you'd like to be tagged in this let me know. I can start a tag list.

Comments and reblogs much appreciated. :)

[dick-meister]

The absolute deconstruction of Adam’s mental in UC verse has me feeling a bunch of ways.

Like, he started out hopeful, trying his hardest to work things out with Lucifer and Lilith and actually did! They were having a good bit of fun and at one point Lucifer started to catch the tiniest bit of feelings for Adam. He talked to Roo for the first time in a long time to which he made amends for things between them as well.

Feeling good and having trust in them, Adam was fully prepared to go and talk to Sera and get an audience for all of them to talk about G’s plans but funnily enough, Adam’s own superior wouldn’t hear him out and locked him away for an amount of time he wasn’t even sure of. There he was bombarded by memories of himself and of Eve that tortured him pretty much.

At the time, he was feeling like the people of Hell were a lot better than those in Heaven only on the sheer fact that they listened to him and would listen to him. However after being broken out of the white room, everything changed dramatically. Lilith approaching Adam and trying to get him angry just so he could kill her in said anger, while around Lucifer, messed him up on the inside. He knew she was right on some levels but how it was done was just… wrong and left him literally beaten and half dead. Where else was he supposed to go after that but home?

Home, where he was now a fugitive if spotted by anyone who worked for the council as Sera had never allowed him to leave the White Room and if found, he would have been sentenced to fall. Only to just… lie on the ground for a day, bleeding and being alone up until Charlie was ported to him by G himself as a test to see if Charlie would finish him off right then and there. The sad thing is, looking back on it now, Adam would have preferred her to do so.

There was a bit of regained hope for him at that time, talking to Charlie and taking care of her made him feel a little better in a way that he wasn’t so alone. But there was a growing feeling of abandonment that was quickly getting bigger and bigger.

Eventually, Charlie leaves back to Hell, Lute tells him of Sera wanting to summon him after an accidental slip of the tongue and they ditch to Hell together. At least at the Hotel he got some time to rest, however that wouldn’t take long to be disrupted, learning of Charlie’s death, then having to fight Charbringer and eventually give up fighting her knowing that it was wrong to do so and he died.

Adam still remembers feeling the pain of death, being dead and his soul slipping away. Even though, somehow it was reverted and Lute took his place in his stead to which he had to watch Lute die, and then watch Charlie die in his arms…

After that, he buried Lute and just gave up. Adam went home and felt nothing. He’s lost so much and when looking around himself for who he had, who was he supposed to go to for help? He didn’t view himself as anything but a joke to everyone, someone to pin blame to, someone to leave in the background. Of course Angela tried to console him, but he wanted people who knew him to help him, love him, because those who don’t know him say the wrong things, make assumptions and cause him to feel even more lonely and wrong.

His mentality at this point was so shattered that when Eve, who is absolutely alive, showed up. He thought she was just a figment of his imagination, more White Room BS who helped a little but once he left to see Emily and found out that Sera had passed in battle, he found that he really couldn’t feel anything towards it. He felt bad for Emily, but the feelings of it was all light and on the surface.

Once he got home, that’s when he made the decision, if he was doomed to be nothing more than a after thought then he would just go back to being the villain he once pushed himself past. It’s the only way he knew how to cope and it’s not like anyone was coming around to help him anyways, it was either the mask or lay on the floor until the Cycle ended and he couldn’t sit back and do that.

He’s come full circle, and that’s really sad but also an incredibly interesting character ‘development’ that’s happened over time. I thought Adam would end up being a hero through this story, showing off bravery, selflessness and care but… this has all gone so against him that he just can’t feel those things anymore or much of anything.

UC is…. Not great for Adam lol

[nastybuckybarnes]

Cling to me

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: You overhear something you weren’t meant to hear. 

Warnings: Angst, Language, Fluff, 

Word Count: 2.1k

A/n: wrote this one a year ago teehee but I LOVE this kinda shit I live for it. hope y’all enjoy 

~*~

“So things are going well, then?”

You shouldn’t be eavesdropping, you really shouldn’t. It was an accident.

You had approached the bathroom door to ask Steve for a towel, not wanting to drip water all over the carpeted hallway, when you heard him and Bucky talking.

The bathroom fan is on, drowning out the sound of you stepping closer to the wood.

“Well, yeah, I guess so. I mean... I guess.”

You frown.

You thought things were going great.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Steve lets out a heavy sigh and glances at the bathroom door then slightly lowers his voice, but you can still hear him clearly.

“She just... she’s real needy, Buck. She’s physically clingy, always sitting by me or on me and holding my hand and stuff... and she never leaves me alone when I’m out on assignments. I’m just... I need some space.”

Your heart stumbles in your chest for a moment before beating twice as hard, each beat smashing against pins and needles and sending pain radiating through your chest.

Too needy.

Steve thinks you’re too needy.

This is how it started with Jeremy.

You were too clingy.

Slowly, you back away from the bathroom door and slide down the wall, shivering at the wet droplets clinging to your skin, then put your face in your hands.

Steve won’t be like Jeremy. He can’t.

Everything will be fine, you just need to give him space.

You can almost hear Jeremy’s voice in your head, whispering words that he’d repeat when you were with him. But maybe he was right.

Just because you like being physical and spending time with him doesn’t mean he wants that too. You haven't even taken his wants into consideration.

A knock on the bathroom door startles your face out of your hands and you flip your head up, looking at the door with wide eyes.

“Honey? I’m just gonna go grab some drinks with Bucky and Sam. I’ve got my phone and I shouldn’t be home too late.”

You take a deep breath and nod even though he can’t see you.

“Okay, have fun!”

Your voice is a little duller than usual, a little less lively, but Steve chalks it up to the fan distorting your voice.

You stay rooted in place on the bathroom floor, knees hugged up to your chest, for hours.

You’re not sure why, whether it’s out of fear that he won’t come back or that he’ll be waiting out there to break up with you, but you’re terrified.

Eventually, after the chills have sunk into your soul and shivers are shaking your bones, you leave the bathroom and get dressed.

Usually, you’d put on a pair of panties and one of Steve’s shirts, but you can’t bring yourself to touch his stuff after what you heard.

You pull on a tank top and a sweater and your fuzziest socks, hoping to chase away the cold, though it feels like it’s here to stay.

The apartment seems so empty without him there, and you yearn to check up on him and make sure he’s okay, but you don’t go near your phone.

He’s a grown man and he can take care of himself.

You barricade yourself in the bedroom, cuddled up under the blankets and holding one of your pillows to your chest as you watch reruns of Golden Girls.

You fall asleep before he gets home, though you’re awoken by the sound of the door opening.

Instead of perking up and meeting him like you usually would, you stay in bed, pillow hugged to your chest and eyes shut.

He’s stealthy as he joins you in bed, sliding in behind you and wrapping an arm around your waist.

It takes everything in you not to shake his arm off.

As he leans forward and presses a kiss to the back of your neck, a tear slides down your temple and buries itself in the pillows.

~*~

Steve’s confused at your sudden change in behaviour, constantly checking his phone for texts from you and missing your touch when he sits on the couch reading a report.

You’re standing in the kitchen a few days later, talking softly to Yelena and Wanda while Bucky, Natasha, Sam and Steve all sit on the couches in your living room.

The two women lead the way into the living room and you follow them, not stopping your conversation as you take a seat between the two of them.

Steve’s eyes are focused on you, waiting for you to look at him, to realize that you’re not sitting in the right spot and that you should be closer to him, but you never do.

You stay engaged in your conversation, laughing at something Yelena says before turning your attention to Wanda.

Bucky watches curiously as Steve balls his hands into fists then turns back to the conversation he was having, his voice slightly more strained than before.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Bucky asks later that evening after almost everyone else has gone home.

You’re already in bed, oblivious to the conversation they’re having.

“I thought it was, but not cold turkey. She hardly texts me unless I text first, she doesn't kiss me goodbye anymore, and she hasn’t sat beside me once in the past week.”

Bucky shrugs, “you’re the one who said she was too clingy.”

Steve knows.

He fucking knows.

And maybe he’ll like it, but first, he needs to get to the bottom of why you’ve switched so quickly.

After bidding Bucky goodbye, Steve joins you in the bedroom, climbing into bed beside you and rolling onto his side to watch you.

Your attention is focused on the TV as if he isn’t in bed with you at all.

When he opens his mouth to speak, you reach over and turn off the lamp on the nightstand, then turn off the TV.

You don’t do it on purpose, but he doesn't say anything.

“Goodnight,” you whisper, turning onto your back and facing away from him.

He stares at you in shock.

The past couple of nights he’s come into bed after you’ve been asleep, but tonight he was sure you’d cuddle up against him like you usually do.

“Goodnight. I love you,” he murmurs, heart racing in his chest as he waits for your reply.

“I love you too.” There it is.

It settles his heart a tiny bit to hear you whisper the words, but he’s still confused by your actions.

You always cuddle up to him.

Always.

Every night that he’s been home for the past year.

And now you’re not even wearing his clothes to bed.

He can’t sleep at all that night, too focused on how strange you’ve been acting and how much he fucking hates it.

And then it dawns on him.

You must’ve heard him talking to Bucky.

That’s the only explanation.

His heart hurts in his chest and guilt floods his body. He tosses his head back against the pillows and squeezes his eyes shut, hating himself for ever speaking those stupid words.

He was just having a bad week. He was overwhelmed with work and briefings and then you were always by his side.

It was too much.

And now you’re doing everything in your power to distance yourself from him.

You’re lying in the same bed but you’ve never been further away.

Sure, he can feel the heat radiating off of your body, but you may as well be a thousand miles away.

The guilt wells up in his eyes and slips down his cheeks as he rolls onto his side and pulls you against his body, burying his face in your hair.

Fuck, he feels terrible.

All night he thinks about how much you do for him, how much you love him and everything you’ve given to him and sacrificed for him. And he couldn’t even appreciate you properly. No, he had to go and run his mouth about bullshit that he didn’t even mean.

He has to make this right.

He will.

He just has no idea where to start.

~*~

When you wake up the next morning there’s a strong arm secured around your waist.

You’re so used to waking up alone that you can’t help but cuddle into it. That is, until you remember his complaints.

Shifting as slowly as you can, you try to slip out of his grip, but he only wraps his arm around you tighter.

“You’re leaving?” He asks into your hair, his voice groggy.

You swallow hard and clear your throat.

“Bathroom,” is all you manage to whisper.

He lets out a heavy sigh but slowly unwinds his arm from around your waist.

“You’re gonna come back after, right?” He asks, his voice soft.

You hesitate before getting up, unsure of what to say.

Are you?

You don’t particularly want to.

Well, that’s not true. You want to, more than anything, but you don’t want to overwhelm him and smother him with your clingy nature.

“Do you want me to?” You end up asking, glancing over at him.

He slowly opens his eyes, sadness filling them, and you regret asking.

“Honey... what I said the other day... to Buck... I wasn’t thinking, sweetheart. I don’t think you’re too clingy, not at all. I think you’re perfect for me and the way that things have been lately… All the distance between us? It’s been unbearable. I hate it. I didn’t know what changed at first but... I’m sorry.”

Your heart is in your throat at the fact that he knows you heard what he said.

“I didn't mean to eavesdrop, I’m sorry,” you whisper, pushing into a seated position to get off the bed.

“Honey, wait. Please. Please, don’t go. I miss you. So damn much. All I want is for things to go back to the way they were. And... I know that will probably take time, but I just miss you so fucking much.”

Tears prickle at your eyes and you sniffle, refusing to look at him.

“I didn’t mean to be clingy. I know... I know I can be a lot. It’s one of the issues Jeremy and I had. I can give you space, Steve.”

His heart cracks and he sits up behind you, one hand finding your lower back in an attempt to get closer to you.

“Sweetheart, I don’t want space. You’ve given me space and it’s been the worst experience of my life. I just want you back. I want to hold your hand and kiss you and talk to you and be near you. I love you and you... you make me feel important. You make me feel loved.”

He has to fight his own tears as he speaks, and you sit silently in front of him, eyes focused on the carpet.

“For so much of my life, I felt alone, besides Bucky. I felt like I had no one and no one would love me. And then I went under and I woke up and... everything was different. I was a man out of time. I never thought I would ever have found someone who loves me as wholly as you do. And I’m sorry for ever making you feel like you need to change yourself.”

His arms wind around you and he pulls your back against his chest, slowly rocking you from side to side as you sniffle.

“You are everything I have ever wanted and more, sweetheart. I love you for everything you are and everything you do, and I’m so damn sorry I ever made you feel like you were too clingy. You’re perfect for me. Sometimes I think that you’re the reason why I survived it all. Was so that I could find you. You’re it for me.”

His words help to heal the wounds he caused, but what really does it is the meaning behind it. The love he’s pouring into every syllable he speaks is powerful enough for you to feel without even trying.

You know he regrets what he said. But, more importantly, you know he’s not Jeremy.

Steve loves you.

Slowly, you turn in his arms and look up at him, and his heart breaks even more when he sees the tears on your cheeks.

“If I’m ever too much, you gotta promise to let me know, okay?” You whisper.

He huffs out a weak laugh and shakes his head, squeezing you to his chest.

“You are never too much for me. You’re everything I could ever want or need and so much more. You’re perfect for me. And I’m gonna try my hardest to be good enough for you because I love you. I love you with my whole heart and soul.”

“I love you too, Steve,” you whisper, burying your face in his shoulder as he hugs you tightly.

And there on the bed in the dim morning light, Steve clings to you.

He clings to you like you’re his lifeline, like you’re the energy that keeps him going.

He clings to you, and he doesn’t plan on stopping anytime soon.

[anaconamor]

as time gets close - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: almost close to your due date, what is wrong with a late-night grocery trip with your very excited and anxiously waiting fiance?

wc: 1.8k | masterlist | jude's masterlist

psa 🗣️: a little dad! jude blurb bc we haven’t seen much of this on the timeline!! like always hope you enjoy 🤍

"why are you bending down? you know that is bad for you," you rolled your eyes at your fiance's scolding, grabbing the keys from the floor. "i dropped the keys by accident," you say as you pick the correct key that belonged to the lock. jude rubbed your belly, ensuring you were okay before helping you out to the car, the reusable bags tucked underneath his arm.

"did you bring the list?" you ask him seeing as he nods and pulls it out from the pockets of his hoodie. "i did. i also brought you some snacks because you didn't eat much after getting some nausea," you pouted your lips leaning up to peck his cheek thanking him. "what would i do without you?" you tease, a playful scoff falling from his lips.

"what makes you think you'd be without me? i'm attached to you for life remember?" he grabs your left hand kissing over your ring finger as he gives you a knowing look. you feel as he brings your intertwined hands to your belly, "and you're carrying my baby in there."

"really i couldn't tell," you say sarcastically.

"let's make it quick because my feet already hurt and i want to sleep," you advised letting out a tired yawn. despite being close to your due date, you still had some work to do before maternity leave. making calls to set meetings, attending them over zoom, filing paperwork, in charge of making sure the firm doesn't backfire, and planning some stuff out for your wedding.

jude had told you multiple times to take it easy, but placing that aside, he always helped you unconditionally. in the shower, when cooking, taking care of chores, before bed, and attending all your doctor's appointments. he was your personal midwife and wanted to take care of you the most he could.

you remembered to look on his face when you told him you were expecting, the tears on his face as he spoke to your barely bump all night and traced his hands on your belly. singing and humming lullabies and stories about his day. since then he wanted to protect you the best he could.

going to the grocery store at this time was nothing new, in fact, it became so prevalent now that you were pregnant because you craved everything. making jude do a late run to pick up your cravings or groceries for the upcoming weeks. the same store, at the same time.

you placed your purse on the cart, snuggling into your jacket as the cold air inside the store blew you away. you followed jude who picked out veggies and greens for his meal prepping, helping him tie the bags and weigh them on the digital scale that produced labels. you watched in awe as your boyfriend picked out three pairs of different flowers. "what are these for?" you asked, smelling the flowery scent.

"for the house. we need to replace the old ones that dried out," jude says with a shy grin. "you were the one who said plants and flowers bring a sense of home into our house, " jude recalled your words, kissing your temple, pushing the cart since it became a bit heavier. "i did say that didn't i? well i wasn't wrong," you shrug, wrapping a hand around his bicep as he trailed along isles to pick up the different items on the list.

he did all the heavy lifting as you reached and picked stuff up from your level, like spices and eggs. you turn your back for a few seconds to retrieve some milk and coffee beans for the morning, to see the cart filled with pop tarts and other salty snacks. "no no no," you shake your head, as jude whines out protests. "y/n we need them! they're even on sale!"

“jude, i don’t care! we just got some three days ago!,” you say laughing, putting back the box of pop tarts. “y/n i’m telling you right now, in a couple of hours or days you’re gonna have me running back here for them,” jude states following behind you.

“am not!” you quickly defend, bringing a hand to your aching back. “are too! last night you had me running out for cheetos. what’s it going to be today? kettled popcorn? or wingstop?” jude teased making you rolls your eyes and focusing back on to what needed to get done. “don’t forget we need to pick some of that acid reflex stuff for you, to get rid of the heartburn,” jude reminds you, taking the cart and walking out of the pop tarts isle, sneaking a box in for you.

“what’s left on the list?” you ask him, taking out a small snack you had in your purse and offering some to jude. “we need bananas, strawberries, orange juice, and meats for upcoming dinners…” jude reads the list one by one, using his index finger as he goes along.

you pass by an isle grabbing some cereal and granola for your yogurts and bowls. jude insisting he grabs his favorite too since you refuse to share from your part. as you wait by the deli section jude come behind you, grabbing your belly and relieving some of the pressure.

you immediately lay your head back on his shoulder sighing in relief, hearing jude chuckle and place a kiss on your head. “almost there darling,” he whispered running one of his hands along your tummy. “i know what you’re doing jude… and if this baby starts kicking right now i’ll leave you here,” you warn.

“i’m just trying to help you love. doesn’t it feel good?” he reprimanded as you nodded. “yes but not when she starts kicking, i swear she does it on purpose and it’s your fault. like she knows it you,” you said feeling your lower back less tense and heavy. "i kid you not, last night she almost made me pee from this hard kick!"

"sounds to me like we have a mini footballer coming into our lives," said jude continuing to hold your belly since you were tired and your baby was heavy. he had read the method online with other tips and tricks. jude got more into reading when he found out you were pregnant, wanting to know every effect and secret to ensure a healthy and safe pregnancy.

"let's hope not, i don't think i could handle cleaning up broken stuff around the house every day," you sigh, releasing yourself from his hold because you began to get hot. you didn’t understand how your body was so quick to adjust and then de-adjust from hot and cold, but it was so easy and it drove you mad sometimes.

“you okay?” jude softened his eyes as you let out a breath of despair, holding your hand and feeling a sit squeezed tightly against his. “yeah just got a mini cramp,” you held your back and practiced breathing methods you learned, “i’m good, i promise,” you kiss his hand before retrieving the meats from the butcher. "we'll get home soon, and i promise you a warm tea and massage okay?"

"did you want chocolate or strawberry milk?" jude held up the pint containers, "strawberry, we still have chocolate milk at home," you said, jude nodding as he quickly picked the orange juice and your favorite yogurts. "i was never a fan of sweet or flavored milk but these are soooo good," you exaggerated, jude smiling hard down at you.

"never a fan? these were my childhood as a kid! my mum used to buy these or the powder to make it ourselves," jude says recalling a old memory thinking of his babygirl. "you reckon she'll like them too?" jude spoke softly as he saw you give him a fast nod. if there was one thing loved it was discussing his babygirl. he was so anxious and wanted to meet her. the itch in his teeth getting bigger as every day passes.

to hold her while she slept, hug her to keep her warm, coddle her to sleep, feed her. he was ready for it all. he loved to shop and spoil her already. her carrier, crib, different books, toys, and stuffed animals like he had as a kid. she didn't know it yet, but she would be jude's second best friend. firstly you. always you.

they saw if one ever finds love at first sight, and jude definitely did with you. a smile so bright, eyes gleaming with happiness, a stranger who he fell madly with almost immediately after hearing her say hello. through ups and downs, you found your way to each other and since then, it's a love story for the movies. jude had his career blowing, a beautiful fiancee, and now a baby on the way. what more could he want?

as jude helped bag the groceries into the recycled bags you had, you paid and thanked the cashier whom you got close with on nights like these. asking how her day was, about her kids, anything special, always something to distract her. "you two have a safe night!" she yelled as you turned and thanked, wishing her a good night as well.

after you insisted on helping, you carried four light bags as jude carried most bags since he hated double trips. you guys quickly unpacked everything, longing and wishing to get into bed. you ensure the stove and other appliances are off, grabbing your tea and heading upstairs with jude.

"lay here for me," jude instructed, grabbing some cream and begging to smooth and massage out the muscles on your legs and shoulders. "after we have her, i promise i'll return every single thing you did for me while i was pregnant," you say struggled and full pleasure as the tension went away at jude's fingertips. "oh i'm fully expecting the injured boyfriend method again," jude teased as he finished up.

he grabbed a new book, laying on your side as you brushed and played with a few curls on his head, twirling them around your finger as he breathed softly. he looked so gentle and full of excitement like this, reading to your babygirl, who sensed her daddy's voice as she kicked. she knew, she always knew.

he applied your belly oil to prevent any stretch marks and kissed the small ones that formed along the way. jude cherished your body for carrying his baby in there, for being able to give and bring a new life into his and yours. you laid on your side, jude's chest connecting and fitting the crevasse on your back, holding your tummy as in a way to keep it safe.

you placed and locked hands with his, as jude wishing you a goodnight, peering kissed on your shoulders then finally lips, moaning in delight, a tiny groan leaving his lips. "i love you so much darling," he whispered, kissing your temple and snuggling into you more. "iloveyoutoojude," you said fast, with a playful smile on your lips as you felt a familiar sensation of a certain craving. "okay now i do want some pop tarts..."

"are you serious right now?"

[cyberhughes]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ . 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 NSFW! 18+

possessivebf!jack x reader

warnings: college au | pinv | jack hughes is a PERVERT. | panty stealing | allusions to a physical fight | gaslighting/manipulation | allusions to blackmailing | male masturbation | dacryphillia | JACK WOULD NEVER DO ANY OF THIS THO HES MY SWEETIE PIE🫶IM JUST CRAZY FOR THIS STUFF

author’s note: guys i’m unleashing my inner freak w this one…have i been watching too much of mr joe goldberg?? maybe so but ykw who gaf!! also last little blurb thing before i post chapter two of too sweet i’m sorry for the wait 😭

NSFW CONTENT BELOW THE CUT!

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who walks you to and from every class on campus. he’ll carry all your belongings, because he’s such a gentleman. he doesn’t care that he’s almost always late to every class of his, he just wants to make sure his girl gets where she needs to be safely.

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who always has his hands on you. whether its a hand in the back pocket of your jeans as the two of you walk, or having a hand rested on your thigh while you eat lunch with your friends. no one noticing how his fingers trace higher and higher underneath the table.

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who places sloppy kisses along your neck, fingers dancing along the hem of your panties. he just wants to make you feel good after your stressful week. “please pretty girl, let me help.” his breath hot against your ear as his hands dip past the waistband, fingers barely grazing your cunt as you nod, whimpering his name. originally you wanted to finish a paper that was due in a few days, but that would have to wait.

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who feels dirty for thinking about how your fingers would look wrapped around his cock while you simply try to show him your new set of acrylics, that he paid for of course. you’ll ramble on about the drama your nail tech was telling you about her boyfriend, something about him not putting a ring on it? yet all that he could process right now what the thought of you clawing all over his back as he pounded into your tight heat.

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who leaves surprises like chocolates and flowers in your dorm for you while you’re out. he’ll set everything out nicely on your bed, including a little hand written note about how much he loves you. he’ll glance at your laundry basket just under your bed as he’s about to leave, quickly stuffing a pair of your panties into his pocket before leaving.

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who feigns innocence when you search your drawers, wondering how you could have possible lost so many pairs of undergarments. oh well, of course he’d take you to victoria’s secret to buy some more.

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who pouts when you tell him you’re going out for lunch to catch up with your old friend, matt. why were you wearing such a short dress for something so casual? but of course he trusted you, it was matt he didn’t trust. he’d pull you close to him for a hug, breathing in the scent of your hair before tickling along your collarbones with kisses. “just play with me for a bit before you go.” he whispers, hands sliding up to your waist, dragging your dress up. and well, let’s just say you had to get a rain check for lunch.

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who lingers in his car in front of the bar after dropping you off for a night out with your friends. maybe he’ll walk in, just wanting to take a peek that you’re safe. maybe, he’ll be faced with the sight of some random man placing a hand on the small of your back as you chatted. his sweet girl, so naive to the fact that he was currently hitting on you. and just maybe, he’d have to follow this guy out, following him down an alley way, needing to teach him a quick lesson about touching his girl.

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who stares lovingly into your eyes when you express your concern as to why his knuckles are all bruised and covered with dried blood when he picks you up later that night. he’ll hush you, reaching his dirtied hand to cup your face and pull you in for a kiss. “was just an accident, baby.” he’ll whisper against your lips before kissing you again, with more passion this time. he didn’t need you to know what had went down in that alleyway, he just wanted happy thoughts for his girl.

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who drives you back to your dorm. he’ll make sure you drink plenty of water, take your makeup off and help dress you into your pjs, even though you were fully capable of doing that yourself, but you were his princess. he’ll lay next to you while you fall asleep, tracing circles along your skin with one hand while he scrolled through his saved phots of you while he waits for your roommate to return as well, to be sure that you aren’t alone for the night.

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who has the neckline of his tshirt tucked between his teeth, muffling his whimpers as he pumps his cock underneath his sheets. he’ll have his phone in his free hand—remember those pictures he was looking through? those pictures of you wearing nothing but your panties, posing for him and making sure he had something to look at while he was away. pictures he had sneaked while he was thrusting into you from behind, ass cheeks red from the way he groped you. pictures that he had taken up your skirt when you stood in front of him on the escalator—what? at least it was him and not some pervert, he was protecting you.

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who pounds into you, cold hands groping over your breasts that bounced with each one of his thrusts. “thought you loved me, baby.” his voice voice barely above a whisper and he pouts, his movements getting harsher. tears welled in your eyes at the pleasure that coursed through your body, trying to form a proper sentence, “love you jacky! matt’s just…” he lands a particularly sharp thrust at the mention of that name and you moan. “ngh, just a friend!” you plead, reaching up to grip onto him like a koala, manicured nails digging into his skin. he knew you loved him, more than you could understand. he just wanted to see those pretty tears stream down your face, you were such a pretty crier.

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack that had to interfere when he overheard your best friend telling you that jack wasn’t good for you, that she felt he was too controlling. of course, jack had to have a conversation with her. it wasn’t right that she was putting those silly thoughts into your head, just like how it wasn’t right that she cheated on her boyfriend over spring break—which he had video proof of. you didn’t need a friend who was such a hypocrite.

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who cradles you in his arms, stroking your hair and kissing away your tears as you cried about how your best friend dropped you out of nowhere, not even giving you an explanation. “s’not your fault baby…they don’t deserve you.”

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who loves you so much and would do anything for you <3

masterlist 💞

[eu-nicola]

the fastest driver part 3

summary: you are a young and talented driver, who begins your journey in Formula 1 with Ferrari. despite your undeniable ability, you are constantly relegated to the background due to the Scuderia's strategies, which always favor your teammate, Charles Leclerc

warnings: take of pills

word counter: 7364

author's note: english is not my first language, this is from an amazing request, thanks for the comments 🤍

tags: @ilovechickenwings @amortentiaaaa @ananyasribughead @supertrashbread @amalialeclerc @rawr-123s-stuff @wierdflowerpower @malvikareader @freyathehuntress @sweetmuffynsblog @vjbillno

Endless hours passed after the accident before the first clear update about your condition reached the media and the paddock. Everyone was anxiously waiting for news about your health. The uncertainty left fans, journalists, and especially those who truly knew you in a state of tense anticipation.

Finally, a statement from the hospital's medical team brought some relief: you were stable and conscious. While initial tests had ruled out serious spinal injuries or significant fractures, the impact had been severe, leaving you with a moderate concussion and several internal bruises that required monitoring. What concerned the doctors most were the potential psychological and emotional aftereffects: the nature of the crash, the impact, and all the built-up stress could take a toll later.

Hours later, you woke up in a hospital room softly lit by the afternoon light. Everything was quiet except for the rhythmic beeping of the monitor beside your bed. Your body felt heavy, like it was filled with lead, and the headache was sharp and constant. As your eyes adjusted to the light, you noticed someone sitting nearby.

It was Charles. He was there, his hands clasped in front of his mouth, as if praying or just trying to calm his own nerves. When he saw you stir slightly, he lifted his head, and his expression changed a mix of relief and worry crossed his face.

“You’re awake,” he said softly, as if he didn’t want to scare you. “Thank God.”

You hadn’t expected to see him there. In fact, you hadn’t expected to see anyone. And yet, here he was.

“Charles…” you tried to speak, but your voice came out as barely a whisper.

“Shhh, don’t talk too much. The doctors said you need to rest.”

“What are you doing here?” you asked, ignoring his warning, even though just talking felt like needles stabbing your skull.

He shrugged, offering a light but sincere smile.  

“Someone had to make sure you were okay.”

Charles stayed by your side for hours, even when the doctors came in and out to check on you. He answered questions from the journalists crowding outside the hospital, desperate for a statement, and refused requests from photographers trying to get a shot of you. There was something unusually warm and protective about the way he acted.

As you lay back, eyes closed to avoid making the headache worse, you heard his voice.

“You scared me, you know? I’ve never seen anything so…” He paused, searching for the right word. “So violent. Not since Jules. And when I saw the crash on the screen, I thought the worst.”

You opened your eyes and looked at him. There was sincerity in his face, something you hadn’t expected.

“I’m okay… sort of.” You tried to joke, but the pain turned it into a grimace.

“No, you’re not okay. But you will be. You have to be.”

As Charles stayed with you, messages started pouring in. Your phone sat on the bedside table, just out of reach, and Charles offered to read some.

“Everyone’s worried about you. Here’s one from Lando… and even one from Toto. Seems like the entire F1 world is waiting for you to get better.”

“Who else?” you asked, almost dreading the answer.

Charles scrolled through, his expression hardening briefly before softening again.

“Max,” he said simply.

Your heart stopped for a moment. You didn’t know what to expect. Since the accident, you’d assumed Max was too caught up in his own world to care, but the fact that he’d written at all was enough to twist your stomach.

“What does it say?” you asked, trying to sound indifferent, though you knew Charles could see right through you.

He hesitated before answering.

“‘Hope you’re okay. Sorry I wasn’t there sooner. Let me know if you need anything.’”

The neutrality of the words didn’t match the intensity of what you felt hearing them. You closed your eyes, trying to process it all. What did that message even mean? Was it just courtesy, or was there something more behind those words?

Charles noticed your discomfort and set the phone aside.

“You don’t have to reply if you don’t want to.”

“I won’t,” you said quickly, though part of you knew that wasn’t true.

As night fell, Charles finally said goodbye, promising to return the next day. There was something comforting about his presence, how he’d set aside any competitiveness or formality just to be there for you. Yet, when you were left alone, the thoughts began to overwhelm you.

The crash, the messages, the worries it all tangled into a mess of emotions you couldn’t unravel. The only thing clear was that while you were physically stable, emotionally, you were far from okay.

After that day in the hospital, Charles became a constant presence in your life. His support wasn’t limited to encouraging messages or occasional visits. He went beyond that. Where others saw a moral obligation or an opportunity to score points with the media, he saw something else: a chance to show you that you weren’t alone.  

The medical team made it clear you could return to racing, but not without certain restrictions. You had to stick to a strict combination of medications after every race: anti-inflammatories, painkillers, and supplements to manage the physical and mental stress you still felt after the accident. Charles was the first person to offer to help you with this. It wasn’t his responsibility, but he seemed to take on the role without hesitation.  

The first race after the accident was a mental and physical challenge. As you prepared to get back in the cockpit, fear swirled in your chest. The accident was fresh in your memory, and even though you knew you were capable, there was a shadow of doubt you couldn’t shake.  

The day before the race, Charles showed up at your hotel. He had a small bag in hand and a calm expression, almost as if it was meant to soothe you.  

"I thought you might need this," he said, placing the bag on the table.  

Inside, there was a box of relaxing tea, a small book about mental strategies in sports, and a handwritten note. When you opened it, you found a simple phrase: "You’re stronger than you think."  

"Thank u," you said, moved by the gesture.  

"You don’t have to thank me. I just want you to know I’m here, okay? If you need to talk, if you need anything..."  

You nodded, grateful for his sincerity. For a long time, you’d felt alone in this world. It was strange to realize someone was willing to stand by your side without asking for anything in return.  

Race day was a whirlwind. Even though you tried to stay calm, every time you sat in the car, the memory of the crash resurfaced. You gripped the steering wheel tightly, reminding yourself you’d done this thousands of times before, that you were capable—one of the best.  

The race wasn’t easy, but you finished in a solid fifth place, a result any other driver would’ve considered a success under the circumstances. When you got out of the car, exhausted but relieved, Charles was the first to approach you.  

"Well done," he said, patting your shoulder.  

After every race, Charles made sure you followed the medical protocol. Sometimes, when you forgot the pills, he’d show up holding the box, reminding you that your health came first.  

"How do you even know I haven’t taken them?" you asked one day, half-joking.  

"Because I know you well enough to know you hate depending on this stuff," he said with a smile, handing you the water and pills.  

It was strange how his presence had gone from sporadic to constant. He wasn’t just there for the serious moments; he also found ways to make you laugh, to lighten the weight on your shoulders.  

It wasn’t something you’d planned or even imagined after everything you’d been through, but your friendship with Charles was good for you. So much so that you felt comfortable asking him something after noticing he’d been off for a while. You’d seen his behavior become quieter than usual, even in the paddock, where he usually managed to keep up appearances in front of the cameras.  

"Are you okay? You seem... off."  

His response came almost immediately.  

"Do you have time to talk?"  

You invited him to your place, where you saw a different side of Charles. He’d shed his usual composure and looked... vulnerable, almost like the facade he kept in public had cracked.  

"Thanks for this," he said, sitting on the small couch as you handed him a bottle of water.  

"You don’t have to thank me, Charles. What’s going on?"  

He sighed, fiddling with the cap of the bottle before speaking.  

"It’s... complicated. Ferrari doesn’t feel like my team anymore."  

You frowned, surprised by his words.  

"What do you mean?"  

"Since Lewis joined this year, everything changed. I knew it would be different, it’s Lewis Hamilton, of course but I didn’t think it’d be like this," he confessed, his voice low, almost a whisper. "I feel like everything revolves around him. The strategies, the resources, even the engineers’ attention... It’s like I’m a shadow in my own team."  

You felt a pang in your chest hearing that. It was almost an exact replica of what you’d felt when you shared a team with him at Ferrari.  

"Charles... you don’t know how much I get it," you said, sitting across from him. "That feeling of being invisible, like your efforts don’t matter... I went through the same thing with you."  

He looked up, surprised by your honesty.  

"Really?"  

"Yeah. Do you remember all those team orders? All those moments where no matter how fast I was, they always put me aside to favor you. It’s... frustrating. It makes you question everything you do."  

Charles nodded slowly, processing your words.  

"I guess I never saw it from your perspective. I always thought the team’s decisions were fair, but now... now I know what it feels like."  

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees.  

"Charles, I know how hard this is. But what you need to remember is that your talent doesn’t depend on them. Ferrari is just one team, one stage in your career—it doesn’t define who you are as a driver."  

"How did you deal with it?" he asked, genuinely curious.  

"At first, I didn’t," you admitted. "I kept everything inside, let the frustration eat me up... until I couldn’t take it anymore. But I learned something: you can’t let them take away what you love about this sport. If Ferrari doesn’t value you the way they should, then prove your worth on the track. Force them to see you."  

Charles nodded slowly, as if your words were beginning to sink in.  

"It’s easier said than done," he said, with a bitter smile.  

"I know. But I also know you have the talent to do it."  

The conversation went on for hours, shifting from serious topics to shared memories and stories from your days at Ferrari. It was strange, but comforting, to share that space with him. He’d gone from being the rival who overshadowed you at your lowest to someone you could fully trust.  

When he finally stood to leave, Charles paused at the door and looked at you with an expression you hadn’t seen before.  

"Thank you for this. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you."  

"I’m always here. You know that."  

As the door closed behind him, you couldn’t help but smile. Charles was so much more than you’d ever thought. And somehow, he’d brought out the best in you too.

While you were helping Charles find his way in a team that relegated him to second place, you couldn’t ignore the fact that your own demons were still lurking. And, as if that wasn’t enough, Max remained a constant presence both on the track and in your personal life.  

Since your move to McLaren, the rivalry with Max had reached a new level. If before you shared moments of camaraderie and confidences, now every interaction was loaded with tension. And not just on the track.  

The championship was on fire. You and Max were leading the standings, swapping first and second place race after race. On every circuit, every corner, and every straight, it felt like only the two of you existed. It didn’t matter who else made it to the podium; the battle was always between you and him.  

During qualifying, both of you pushed to the limit, but an incident in Q3 left Max without a lap time. As soon as he got out of the car, Max stormed straight toward you, visibly furious.  

“What the hell was that?” he snapped, his voice sharp as he closed the distance between you in the paddock.  

“What was what?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, though you knew exactly what he was referring to.  

“You blocked me on my flying lap.”  

“Max, you were too far behind when I started my lap. I didn’t block you.”  

“Of course you did!” he insisted, stepping even closer. His blue eyes burned with a mix of frustration and something else you couldn’t quite place.  

The argument caught the attention of journalists and members of both teams. You knew that one wrong word could make headlines the next day, so you chose to stay calm.  

“If you have a problem, take it up with the stewards, not me,” you said before turning and walking away, leaving Max with the words stuck in his throat.  

But the tension wasn’t confined to the track. It had started to bleed into your personal lives. Even though both of you tried to avoid each other outside of race weekends, coincidences were inevitable especially at sponsor events or official meetings.  

At one of these events, an FIA gala in Monaco, Max couldn’t resist looking for you in the crowd. When he finally spotted you, you were talking to Charles, laughing at something he’d said. The sight seemed to ignite something in Max, and he couldn’t hold back as he approached.  

“Can we talk?” he asked, cutting into the conversation.  

Charles glanced at you, his expression a mix of curiosity and caution, before stepping back to let you decide.  

“What do you want, Max?” you asked, trying to keep your voice neutral.  

“You and Charles, what’s going on between you two?” he asked quietly, though his tone carried an accusatory edge.  

“What kind of question is that?” you replied, crossing your arms.  

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m losing it, but… every time I see you two together, I can’t help thinking that…”  

“That what?” you interrupted, annoyed. “That maybe someone else can actually support me and understand me in this chaos that you chose to ignore?”  

Max pressed his lips together, clearly feeling the sting of your words. But instead of responding, he looked away and muttered:  

“You still know how to twist everything around.”  

The conversation was left unfinished, but the night didn’t end there. Later, as you tried to avoid him, you found Max alone on the terrace of the venue, staring out at the sea, his figure illuminated by the lights.  

“Why do you do this?” you asked, walking toward him. Your tone was no longer defiant but tired.  

“Do what?” he asked without looking at you.  

“Show up, disappear, demand things from me that you can’t even give yourself. You’re still with her, and yet…”  

Max closed his eyes, as if your words were too heavy to bear.  

“I don’t know how to handle this,” he admitted finally, turning to face you. “You and me… I don’t know how to handle it.”  

“Then maybe you should stop trying,” you said, though your voice cracked at the end.  

The silence between you was deafening. Too many unsaid emotions, too many decisions both of you refused to make. Finally, Max stepped back.  

“It’s easier said than done, isn’t it?”  

And with that, he left, leaving you alone on the terrace, feeling like the two of you were trapped in a vicious cycle neither of you knew how to escape.  

In the days that followed, you tried to focus on racing and your friendship with Charles, who had become a kind of refuge in the chaos. But every time you saw Max, every time your eyes met in the paddock, you felt the storm lingering, waiting for the right moment to break again.  

The rivalry on the track only grew more intense. Max and you raced as if every race was the last, as if the championship depended on who was stronger, more determined, more ruthless. But off the track, you both continued to grapple with the same internal conflict: what you felt for each other and what the world expected of you.  

You and Max were the top contenders for the title, and every race turned into a war. The media called it “the battle of the century,” comparing it to the legendary Senna-Prost rivalry. Every overtake, every strategy, every word in a press conference was scrutinized.  

At the Brazilian Grand Prix, things came to a head. From the first lap, the fight between you and Max was fierce. You knew every one of his tricks, every weakness, every strength. There were moments when the cars seemed to touch, pushing the limits of competition to the extreme.  

On lap 43, you attempted an overtake on the inside of Turn 1, but Max, in his trademark aggressive style, shut the door almost recklessly. Your front tires brushed his, and though both of you managed to maintain control, the incident was enough to set off commentators and social media.  

“This is unacceptable!” your engineer shouted over the radio. “We’re reporting it.”  

But you didn’t want to win the championship through a penalty.  

“Leave it. I’ll settle it on the track,” you said, with a determination that surprised even yourself.  

In the end, you finished second, behind Max, but the battle was epic. Fans were divided, some siding with you, others defending Max. But in your mind, one thought started to take root: maybe you’d had enough of this world.  

After that race, you decided to take a break. You flew back to your hometown to spend time with your family, seeking comfort in their presence. One night, sitting in the garden of your parents’ house, you opened up to your mom.  

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” you admitted, staring at the stars. “Every race feels like a battle not just on the track, but inside me, too.”  

Your mom, always wise and patient, looked at you with gentle understanding.  

“Then why do you keep going?”

You stayed silent for a moment, searching for the words.  

“Because it’s all I’ve ever known. Since I was a kid, my entire world has revolved around racing. But lately… lately, I feel like I want something more. I want a normal life, a family. I want to stop fighting all the time.”

“What’s stopping you?.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I don’t know what that life would look like, or who it would be with.”

It was the first time you’d said those words out loud. The idea of giving up Formula 1, of walking away from everything you’d worked so hard for, was terrifying but also freeing.  

You couldn’t help but think of Max. Even though your relationship was broken, and the rivalry had reached its peak, there was still something about him pulling you in. But the question that haunted you was: did he feel the same?  

Max was still with his partner, at least publicly. But his actions, his looks, even his comments during races, hinted at something more. Could you build a life with someone who seemed incapable of facing his own feelings?  

“Maybe it’s not Max,” you muttered to yourself that night, curled up on the couch in your childhood bedroom. “Maybe it’s someone else. Or maybe I just need to find myself first.”

When you returned to the paddock for the US Grand Prix, something had shifted inside you. You hadn’t made any final decisions, but you knew this chapter of your life was nearing its end. Still, as long as you were in F1, you were going to give it everything you had.  

In the pre-race interviews, journalists bombarded you with questions about your rivalry with Max.  

“Is it personal?,” one of them asked with a sly grin.  

“Everything in Formula 1 is personal,” you replied with a wry smile, offering no further explanation.  

Max, sitting next to you at the press conference, shot you a sideways glance but said nothing. The tension between you two was palpable, even in front of the cameras.  

That race turned into yet another head-to-head battle between the two of you. During the final laps, the radio chatter grew more intense.  

“He’s losing rear grip. Push him.”

“I already am!,” you snapped, pushing the car to its limit.  

In the last lap, you pulled off a risky overtake that left everyone stunned. You won the race, and as you stepped out of the car, you felt a mix of euphoria and exhaustion.  

While celebrating with your team, your thoughts drifted back to your conversation with your mom. Maybe this was the ending you’d been searching for, or maybe it was just the start of something new.  

Max watched you from the podium, his blue eyes filled with something you couldn’t decipher. In the crowd, you couldn’t help but wonder: could you ever leave it all behind, even him?  

The next race, under the scorching Qatar sun, felt heavier, both in the air and in the paddock. Everything about this second-to-last race of the season felt like a countdown to something inevitable. You and Max were tied in points, both neck and neck after a season of epic battles, controversies, and moments that had pushed you to the edge emotionally.  

The tension in the McLaren garage was palpable. Though your relationship with your team was excellent, you knew the pressure was on you. Lando tried to lighten the mood with his usual sense of humor, but even his energy couldn’t cut through the wall of your thoughts.  

“Come on, don’t be so serious. We could both use a win today,” he joked while adjusting his gloves.  

“Sure, but if you win, I won’t complain,” you replied with a faint smile, though you both knew that wasn’t true. This race meant everything to you.  

Meanwhile, Charles had sent a message that morning: ‘Remember, one race at a time. You can do this. You’ve already proven you’re the best.’ His unwavering support had become one of the few things keeping you mentally afloat during this emotional rollercoaster.  

From qualifying, it was clear this race would be another direct battle between you and Max. Both of you blocked every attempt the other made to set the fastest time, ending up on the front row: Max on pole, you in second.  

The start was clean but intense. From the first corner, Max showed his usual aggression, shutting you out in an attempt to stay ahead. But you knew this game; he had taught you how to play it. You used the slipstream on the main straight, and on lap five, you overtook him with a surgical move in turn 6.  

For a moment, the world seemed to stop as you led the race, but you knew the real battle had just begun.  

Midway through the race, things heated up. Teams began to play with strategies, and tire choices became crucial. On lap 32, as you exited the pits after a tire change, Max appeared beside you. The overtake that followed was so tight the two cars brushed slightly, sparking an explosion of shouting over the radio.  

“That was way too close!,” your engineer protested, but you were too focused to respond.  

Max didn’t back down. In the following laps, he kept relentless pressure on you, looking for any weakness in your defense. On lap 48, he attempted an inside overtake on a tight corner, but you managed to hold your position with a move that left everyone on the edge of their seats.  

In the final laps, your mind was torn between the adrenaline of the race and the mental exhaustion you’d been carrying all season. Max was glued to your diffuser, but he made a small mistake on the second-to-last corner, giving you just enough of a margin to cross the finish line first.  

Your team’s shout over the radio was deafening:  

“Victory! You’re incredible, what a race!.”

But you didn’t have time to celebrate. As you parked the car in parc fermé, reality hit you: this victory only meant you were still tied in points, and everything would come down to the final race.  

The journalists were in a frenzy. In the post-race press conference, the questions came at you like bullets.  

“How do you handle the pressure heading into the last race?.”

“Calmly. One race at a time.” you replied, echoing Charles’ words, even though calm was the last thing you felt.  

Max, sitting beside you, spoke after you.  

“I always knew this season would be decided in the end. I’m ready for it.”

His gaze met yours for a second, and in that brief moment, the tension between you two felt more personal than ever.  

Back at the hotel, you tried to disconnect, but it was impossible. Your mind raced, replaying every detail of the race and anticipating what was to come. Charles called to congratulate you but also to remind you to rest.  

“Don’t let this consume you, okay?,” he said, his tone serious but kind. “You’ve done an amazing job, and you have everything you need to win.”

“Thanks, Charles. Really. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I don’t know what you’d do without me either,” he joked, managing to make you laugh.

However, when you hung up, you kept staring at the ceiling of your room, wondering if you were truly ready to face everything the final race was about to bring.  

Even though you hadn’t seen Max since the press conference, you knew he was just as restless as you. Despite everything that had happened between you two, you couldn’t help but think about him, about how this rivalry had consumed everything you once shared.  

Is this really what you wanted? To keep fighting, keep competing, keep losing yourself in the process?  

You closed your eyes, trying to calm your thoughts. Just one race left. One final battle. And after that, maybe you’d finally have the answers you’d been searching for.  

The last week of the season was a whirlwind of emotions, preparations, and a tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. The entire paddock was on edge. Everything would be decided in Abu Dhabi.  

Escaping the media’s attention was impossible. Cameras followed you everywhere, looking for any reaction that could turn into a headline. The atmosphere at McLaren was optimistic but tense. You’d brought the team to its highest point in years, and that was already a monumental achievement. But for you, it wasn’t enough. You wanted that title.  

During the press conferences, the questions were relentless. You and Max were the center of attention. Though both of you kept calm outwardly, the discomfort between you was obvious. Every word, every gesture was analyzed by the journalists.  

“How do you feel heading into this decisive race?” they asked you during one of the press rounds.  

“Focused. This is what we’ve worked for all year. I just want to do my job and see what happens,” you replied diplomatically, though inside your heart was racing.  

Max, sitting next to you, simply said:  

“I’m focused too. We both know what’s at stake. May the best win.”  

There was a moment when your eyes met, but it was fleeting. There were so many words left unsaid between you, and the weight of that silence felt unbearable.  

In the final strategy meeting with your team, the tension was palpable. You knew every decision would matter, every detail could be the difference between winning and losing. Your race engineer, always meticulous, reviewed the plans calmly, but even you could tell he was nervous.  

“I believe in you. You’ve proven you can do this,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder before you left the garage.  

Lando, on the other hand, tried to lighten the mood with a joke.  

“If you don’t win, can I keep the consolation trophy?” he said with a cheeky grin.  

“There won’t be a consolation trophy,” you replied with a smirk.  

That day, Yas Marina Circuit was lit up like a jewel in the desert, and the atmosphere was electric. Before getting in the car, you took a moment for yourself. You took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and visualized every corner, every move. You knew you had to give it everything.  

The anthem played, and the world seemed to pause for a moment. Max was beside you on the grid. Though you didn’t speak, you could feel his presence, his energy. You both knew this race wasn’t just about the championship but also everything that had happened between you.  

The start was flawless. From the first corner, you and Max were locked in an intense battle. Neither of you gave an inch. Every lap was a fight, every overtake a statement. The rest of the drivers might as well have been racing in a different category; it was as if this championship was meant to be decided between just the two of you.  

On lap 35, a slow pit stop almost cost you the race, but you quickly recovered, overtaking Max in a spectacular move on lap 42. The crowd went wild.  

But Max wasn’t going to give up. On lap 50, he took the lead back, forcing you slightly off the track. It was an aggressive move, but clean—classic Max.  

In the final five laps, both of you were at the limit. Your hands trembled slightly from the adrenaline, but your focus was unshakable. In the penultimate lap, you found a gap on the main straight and passed Max on the inside. This time, he had no answer.  

When you crossed the finish line, the world seemed to stop for a moment before exploding in celebration. You’d done it. You were a world champion.  

Your team screamed over the radio, their voices full of tears and joy.  

“You’re the world champion! You did it!”  

As you climbed out of the car, the emotions overwhelmed you. Your team surrounded you, celebrating. Lando was one of the first to hug you, shouting:  

“I told you! I knew you’d do it!”  

As you stood with your team, your eyes instinctively searched for Max. He was there, watching you from a distance. Slowly, he approached, his steps a mix of pride and resignation.  

When he reached you, he extended his hand.  

“Congratulations,” he said, his voice calm but heavy with emotion.  

“Thanks, Max,” you replied, shaking his hand. For a moment, his eyes reflected something that looked like regret, but he said nothing more. He turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.  

That night was magical. There was laughter, tears, toasts. The tension of the entire season melted away in a whirlwind of emotions. Charles called to congratulate you, and his genuine happiness was like a balm to your heart.  

“I knew you could do it. I’m so proud of you,” he said, his voice full of sincerity.  

As the celebration went on, you took a moment to reflect. You’d reached the pinnacle of the world, but you knew this was just the beginning of a new chapter in your life. The future was full of uncertainty, but that night, you decided to enjoy the present, savoring every moment of your triumph.  

The emotional hangover the next day was overwhelming. It wasn’t physical, nor from the celebration, but a deep emptiness you hadn’t expected to feel after achieving the dream of your life. You’d won the Formula 1 World Championship, the peak of your career, but instead of feeling complete, you felt lost.

You woke up in your hotel room, sunlight streaming through the curtains. Around you, there were remnants of the celebration: a half-empty champagne glass on the table, the dress you wore last night carelessly thrown over a chair. The trophy, shiny and imposing, sat on the nightstand, but as you looked at it, you didn’t feel the euphoria you’d imagined for years.  

You got up and walked to the mirror. The reflection staring back at you was different from the one you were used to. It wasn’t just the physical exhaustion from the season; it was something deeper a sense of disconnect with yourself.  

You spent the morning avoiding your phone, even though you knew the notifications had to be flooding in. Messages of congratulations, articles from the media, videos of the highlights... but you weren’t ready to face it yet. Instead of feeling celebrated, you felt isolated.  

The idea had been lingering in your mind for weeks, maybe even months. The crash, the endless emotional struggles, the pressure to always be the best... it had all left its mark. And now, after achieving what you’d always dreamed of, you realized something: you didn’t want to keep going anymore.  

During breakfast with your parents, you decided to share your thoughts. You’d avoided bringing it up before, afraid of their reactions, but now felt like the right time.  

“I’ve been thinking about something... important,” you said, breaking the silence while fiddling with your coffee mug.  

Your mom looked at you with concern.  

“Are you okay? Does this have to do with Formula 1?”  

You shook your head.  

“No… well, partly, yes. Like I said, I’ve been reflecting, and I think... I don’t want to keep racing anymore.”  

The silence that followed was heavy. Your dad, ever the pragmatic one, was the first to speak.  

“Are you sure? You’ve worked your whole life for this.”  

“I know, Dad. But I’ve also given it everything I had. And now I feel like if I keep going, it’ll just be out of habit, not because I really want to.”  

Your mom took your hand.  

“We’ve always wanted you to be happy, no matter what you do. If you feel this is the time to stop, we’ll support you.”  

That conversation was the turning point. Over the following days, you talked to your team, Lando, and even Charles, who, although surprised, understood your decision. Lando tried to convince you to stay for one more year.  

“Are you really going to leave me here alone? We were just starting to have fun!” he joked, though there was genuine sadness in his eyes.  

“It’s your time, Lando. I’m sure you’ll do amazing things,” you replied, hugging him.  

Charles, on the other hand, was more serious.  

“I didn’t see this coming, but I get it. Just… promise me you won’t disappear completely.”  

“I won’t. I’ll always be here, even if it’s just as a spectator.”  

That same night, after hours of figuring out how to word it, you sat in front of the camera in your room. You were nervous, not about the decision, but about how the world would react. You wore a simple t-shirt, your hair tied back. You wanted the message to be honest, without distractions.  

‘Hi, everyone. I know this isn’t the video you were expecting after the incredible season we just had, but I wanted to share something important with you...’

You took a deep breath before continuing.  

‘I’ve decided to retire from Formula 1. This year has been the most exciting but also the most exhausting of my life. Winning the championship was a dream come true, but it also made me realize it’s time to close this chapter and start a new one.’

You paused, letting your words sink in.  

‘This wasn’t an easy decision. Formula 1 has been my life for so many years that I barely remember what it was like before. But I also know I want other things. I want time for myself, for my family, to explore who I am outside of this sport.’

Your voice wavered slightly, but you kept going.  

‘I want to thank my team, my teammates, my rivals, and, of course, the fans. Without your support, none of this would’ve been possible.’

When you finished, you turned off the camera and fell onto the bed. It wasn’t immediate relief, but there was something freeing about putting an end to that chapter.  

The video was released the next day and, as expected, caused a storm. The media debated your decision, fans flooded social media with messages of support and gratitude, and some even expressed disbelief.  

Charles sent you a text:  

“I saw it. I’m proud of you. You’ll do amazing things, no matter where you go.”  

And Max, who had avoided talking to you since the last race, also sent a short message:  

“You were the best. I always knew it. I hope you find what you’re looking for and that you forgive me.”  

Even though his words were few, they left a lump in your throat.  

That night, while staring at the stars from your balcony, you realized that, even though the future was uncertain, you were ready to face it.  

Weeks passed since your decision, and life finally seemed to find its rhythm. The constant noise of racing and the pressure to be the best slowly faded. But deep down, you felt like something or someone was still missing.  

Your house, now quieter than ever, became your sanctuary. You spent those days focusing on yourself, resting, discovering what you truly liked outside the track. But even in the peace of your own thoughts, Max lingered in your mind. He wasn’t a constant thought, but you’d remember him, especially when news of his breakup with his girlfriend started circulating. That, unexpectedly, stirred something in you, a knot in your stomach.  

Late one night, your phone buzzed. The name on the screen made you hesitate for a second. Max.  

The message was short, direct.  

“Can I see you? I need to talk to you.”  

You didn’t think much about it. You knew this conversation needed to happen eventually. You’d been avoiding it, but now it felt like the universe was putting it in your path.  

You agreed to meet at your house the next day, and when the door opened, there he was. Max, with that intense, direct gaze that had known you for years. Now, though, there was something different something more vulnerable.  

“Hi,” he said, his voice softer than usual.  

You invited him in, and he settled on the couch like it was his own home. The silence between you was heavy, filled with unresolved emotions.  

“I don’t know where to start,” he began, with a nervous smile.  

“Neither do I,” you replied, sitting across from him.  

The two of you just sat there, watching each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Finally, Max spoke.  

“Breaking up with her... wasn’t easy. I knew it wasn’t fair, but I couldn’t keep lying to myself. The truth is… I never stopped thinking about you.”  

Your heart skipped a beat, and a lump formed in your throat. You didn’t know what to say. Max, always so sure of himself, seemed completely different now.  

“Max... I don’t know what you want me to say. We’ve been on such different paths. You… always so focused on F1, on competing… and me too. Things were never easy between us, and now… I don’t know if any of this makes sense.”  

He nodded, understanding what you meant.  

“I know. I’ve been an idiot. I thought I could keep everything under control, but in the end… I lost what mattered most.”  

He looked at you intently, and in his eyes was a sincerity that made you question everything you’d been thinking until that moment.  

“But that doesn’t mean I forgot about you. It doesn’t mean I don’t care about what we had. If anything, it’s taken me time to realize that… maybe there’s something here we never really figured out.”  

You stayed silent, processing his words. The tension was thick, but something in his voice made you want to listen, even though you knew the situation was complicated.  

“And what is it that you want, Max?” you asked, your voice a bit shaky.  

“I don’t know,” he admitted with a small, sad smile. “I’m not asking you to forgive me or to go back to what we had. But I think… we should at least try. Not now, not right away, but… maybe we can see what happens, without the pressures of F1, without everything that kept us apart.”  

You got up and walked to the window, staring outside without really seeing anything. Max watched you from the couch, waiting for your response. The atmosphere between you had shifted somehow, and for the first time, it felt like you had both let go of the fight to always be the best.  

You turned to look at him.  

“I’m not sure I’m ready to start something new. After all, I made the decision to retire for a reason, Max. I’ve spent so much time on F1 that now I need to rediscover myself. And I don’t know what I want.”  

Max got up from the couch, slowly approaching you.  

“I get it. I’m not expecting it to be easy, or for everything to be resolved right now. But I want you to know I’m not pressuring you. I just… wanted you to know that, no matter what happens, I’ll be here. And if someday you decide what we had is worth another shot, I’ll be ready to try, no matter the past.”  

A deep silence followed his words. You knew there was still so much to figure out between the two of you, but something about his attitude, about his willingness to wait, struck a chord within you.  

You didn’t say anything else. You walked toward him, and for a moment, words weren’t necessary. The look in your eyes said it all. Still, there were no promises, no certainties just a silent understanding that, maybe, the future could be different. Maybe even together.  

“We’ll see what happens,” you finally said.  

Max nodded, not pushing, knowing that time would have to decide the course for both of you. And with that response, the future remained suspended between you, open, uncertain, but carrying a possibility that hadn’t existed before.

[headkiss]

I’ve got a slightly angsty idea for Hotch if you’d like it:

Reader gets into an accident of some kind and ends up in the hospital, and Hotch is worrying out of his mind the whole time because he’s on a case or something, but all is well and it’s fluffy at the end and just love and “don’t ever scare me like that again” and all that good stuff

hiii thank u so much for ur request!!! sorry it’s taken a couple of months to get to </3 i hope u like it!! | 0.6k mentions of a car accident and a teeny tiny injury, and fluff (duh)

“Aaron?”

Hotch knew something was wrong as soon as you’d called in the middle of the day while he was away. You’d always wait for him to call first, to make sure he had the time.

So, the buzz of his phone in his pocket worried him. Even more so when he heard the way your voice shook through the speaker.

He walked away from the rest of the team, leaving their temporary conference room at the local police station and finding somewhere quiet before speaking, “what’s wrong, honey?”

“I’m okay, I promise, but…” you paused to clear your throat, forcing your startled tears back, because you really were okay. “I got in an accident. Nobody’s hurt, but they want to take me to the hospital to make sure I don’t have a concussion or anything.”

Aaron’s heart was pounding, and he had to remind himself that you weren’t badly hurt, that you were right there on the other side of the phone, talking and breathing. He squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand through his hair, wishing he was closer to you.

“Okay,” he says, though it comes out in a breath. “Okay, I’m gonna try to get home.”

“No, Aaron, you really don’t have to. I’m not injured, and they need you there.”

Truthfully, you’d love to have him beside you, his hand tight in yours, his voice cutting through the ringing in your ears, his presence calming enough. But you knew what you were getting into as soon as you started dating Hotch, and you’d never expect him to have to choose between you and his job.

“The team is more than capable of doing this without me, I promise. I’m coming to you, alright?”

You know there’s no changing his mind, and selfishly, you don’t want to. “Okay. Thank you.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

He doesn’t want to hang up the phone, doesn’t want to leave room for the worry and fear that’s already creeping up on him, but he does.

The team, of course, is very understanding, reassuring him that they can handle this case and that he should get home, telling him to let you know they all hope you’re okay. He’s driving to the airport within minutes.

It’s only a few hours later that Aaron lands, rushing back to your place straight from his flight after confirming with you that’s where you’d be. His hand shakes the slightest bit as he slips his spare key into your door.

Aaron breathes your name when he sees you on your couch, a small bandage on your cheek. “You said you weren’t hurt.”

Your heart squeezes in your chest as he crosses the room and crouches in front of you, cradling your face in his hand so gently your eyes well up. The shock seems to catch up to you, the relief you didn’t know you needed just by having him near is almost overwhelming.

“I’m not,” you sniffle once and his eyebrows furrow. “I’m not hurt, I promise. It barely even bled. I guess it’s just sinking in now.”

You blink and a tear slips down your cheek, but Hotch is quick to wipe it away with his thumb. He moves to sit next to you on the couch, tugging you as close as possible, your cheek buried against his collar, his hand running up and down your back.

You can hear his heart beating in his chest, quicker than usual, but you don’t call him out on it.

“You’re okay,” he says, and Aaron’s not sure who he’s reassuring more.

“My car’s probably totaled,” you mutter against him.

“Cars are replaceable, you aren’t.” He drops his mouth to the top of your head, pressing a kiss into your hair.

“I was scared,” you admit quietly.

“I know, honey,” he says, shifting so that his cheek is resting atop your head. “I was, too.”

[fastboatsmojito]

just saw ur scott reblog gRAAAHH WOOF WOOF anyway !!! and it inspired me to request something <3 (love ur writing btw) pls write something with scott and how big he is 😣 a lil suggestive if u know what i mean 🙈

OHH YOU GET IT SO HARD + thank you so much !! 🫶🏼🫶🏼 whenever someone says they like my writing i get so giddy, it’s just the sweetest 😞

Anyways!!! Absolutely, thank you for fueling my obsession with this large man 💓

Just some scattered Scott x reader thoughts really

|CW; somewhat suggestive, he calls you girl once ☝🏼 incredibly obvious size kink from both parties whoops, he’s pretty canon-accurately an asshole, + suggested dom/sub relationship stuff??? Kinda??? Like not really but a little bit??? idk how else to tag that lmao. Obviously there’s a size difference here but it’s not specific, you could really just be shorter than him and it’d work just the same mwah <33

The first time you really notice is a total accident, you got caught up in the sight of the storm in front of you, not even given time to react to his stern “get in.” before he’s picking you up and putting you back in the car.

“What the hell was that?” He snapped, figuratively and literally as you blankly stare at him, still focused on how effortlessly he carried you back to the car.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know, it was just so close-“

“Yeah, no shit it was close. You could’ve gotten yourself killed. You have to pay more attention than that.”

You just nodded, staring at the way his hands flexed as he drove away, suddenly aware of the drastic contrast between the two of you. He picked you up like it was nothing, which was nothing considering the size of him, you just hadn’t thought about it in that way before.

——

He doesn’t think anything of it for a while, chalking your lingering glances up to his over-analytical mind, until you unintentionally piss him off with it.

“Is this going to be a problem for you?” He was right in your face, arms crossed over his chest as he bitterly chewed his gum, working himself up even more when you couldn’t give him a direct answer.

“If you can’t do your job ‘cause you’re too busy staring at me or whatever the fuck, I’ll have to move you to Javi’s team. Got it?” He barked, shaking his head as he stormed off.

As soon as he realizes why you’ve been staring at him, it’s over.

You were at the diner with the rest of the team, smiling as you walked to the table, bumping into some hard, tall, figure in front of you on the way.

He turned to steady you, big hands landing on your waist. “You ever try paying attention to what you’re doing? It’s pretty helpful.” He was a dick, sure. But you still found yourself focusing more on the feeling of his hands and the way your face warmed up at his assertive tone.

“You ever try not being an asshole?” You rolled your eyes at him before you walked away, but he didn’t miss the pause, or the way your breath picked up at his words. He put it together then, having been so caught up in work he didn’t realize just how tolerable you were getting, his hands constantly drifting towards you absentmindedly whenever you were close enough.

——

He usually went to work to get his job done and go home which was made clear, but after a while he got carried away. Comfortable enough being around you to end up reluctantly carrying you out of the car one night.

He tried to wake you up, met with sleepy grunts and you repositioning yourself before falling back to sleep.

He wanted to just leave you in the car, give you a blanket or ‘whatever’ but it was too cold, and you were in some small town he didn’t know well enough. He rolled his eyes as he took you out, large, rough hands a nice juxtaposition to the way he gently lifted you up.

He had to bring you to his room, not sure of where your room key was and not interested in dealing with your mood if he woke you back up.

He laid you down on the bed, throwing the blanket over you before taking off his work shirt and getting ready to begrudgingly sleep on the couch in his own room.

He went to turn off the lights, groaning when he saw you sit up, whining and stretching your arms.

“You know your necks gonna hurt if you sleep on that couch, Scotty. C’mere.” You sleepily muttered, patting the bed next to you.

He knew it was a bad idea, not missing the new nickname as he put his face in his hands, too exhausted to argue and too self-aware to disregard the attitude he’d have if he woke up to you in his bed and a sore neck.

“Jesus Christ. Alright, fine. One time. Don’t make it weird.” He gruffed as he turned the light off before slipping into bed next to you.

You were facing him as he faced the ceiling, his arms crossed firmly along his chest like some grumpy old man, still awake and motionless when you cuddled into him in your sleep.

——

After that he’s basically torturing you until you say it out loud. Putting his hands on your waist all casual to move past you, refusing to acknowledge any of it first.

Both of his hands were on your shoulders as he crouched down to be eye level with you, losing his patience after he caught you staring at his arms when he was trying to talk to you.

“If you want something, you’ll have to use your words like a big girl and ask for it. All this pouty, wordless shit won’t work with me. I need you to listen to me when I talk to you.” He spat condescendingly, minty gum popping in your ears. He grabbed your chin between his thumb and pointer when you shook your head.

“No? I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me what you want. I’m not about to guess.” You squeezed your eyes shut to get away from his intense stare.

“I don’t want to say it here.” You barely whispered, opening your eyes when he sighed.

“Damn it.” He breathed before pausing, standing up tall and scanning over the parking lot you were in.

“Alright, come on.” He said bluntly before grabbing you and throwing you over his shoulder.

“Scott-“ You pouted as he swept you back to his motel room.

“Just shut up and let me help you out for once, yeah?”

-

I need him so bad

[omega-e123]

How would shadow react if you got injured on accident? Recently got injured and had to get stitches and I love your stories so I was wondering what he would do and how he would take care of them 😁

Shadow’s shoes were left unattended by the front door. What psychopath would wear shoes around the house and track dirt?

A short while ago, Shadow excused himself to go to the bathroom. Ever since you two met, you’ve always wanted to try them on. The golden opportunity has finally presented itself.

You plucked them from their spot and proceeded to put them on in the back yard. They were heavy and it’s no wonder why his kicks packed a punch even while not rocket boosted. It took a bit of conscious effort to lift your feet off the ground.

How did he manage to hover in place? On the outside and in, the shoes had a fairly simple and smooth design. No bottons, slides, nothing. Not that you’ve ever seen him do anything in particular to activate them.

Moving to one end of the yard, you break into a sprint. With a little speed it might turn on. It felt as if someone had duck taped 5 pound weights to your feet.

The back door opens with a call of your name. “What are you—,” Shadow was about to ask before being interrupted by a screech combined with rough tumbling into your patio table. In no time at all, bare feet patter against the warm concrete.

Some dirt mixed with blood cakes your palms and knees. With a loud guttural groan, you rolled yourself over to sit on your butt. In front of you, Shadow is knelt down on one knee. His brows knitted together in concern.

The voice that wanted to scold you for your clumsiness is shoved far into the back of his mind. Instead he tenderly takes your hands and brings it closer to his face, inspecting the damage.

A kiss is pressed to your knuckles. “Are you alright? What in the world were you doing?,” he asks, not a speck of anger laced in his words.

“I uhh.. wanted to try out your shoes? I don’t get it. How do they turn on? You usually just start running.

Your legs are next to be checked out. “They work by channeling chaos energy. That’s how I’m able to control the output… Can you stand? Careful not to hit your head.”

Shadow covers the edge of the table with one hand while the other helps you up. A sharp pain is sent to your hip as you rise eliciting a wince and a whine.

“Allow me to help clean your injuries. The last thing we want is to have them get infected.” An arm worms its way around your waist for support. Slow and steady he guides you to the restroom. Of course he’d notice you attempting to hide your limp. A sharp exhale leaves him.

After sitting you down on the toilet seat, he begins to clean the scrapes with a wet towel. Straight to work. Not a single word has been uttered since walking back inside the house. His lips pressed tight, you’re sure Shadow is clenching his jaw.

Guilt of worrying him and possibly damaging his shoes settle in. A mumbled, “I’m sorry” causes Shadow’s ear to flick.

Devoid of emotion he immediately replies, “Next time you want to use my stuff as playthings, ask first.”

His eyes are lasered in at the task at hand. Thankfully, once the blood has been cleaned up, your scrapes don’t look as bad. Nothing a giant bandage can’t fix.

With the final bandage literally slapped on the palm of your hand, he announces ‘done’. Shadow starts to pack up the medical supplies, well aware you’re pouting at him.

“That hurt!”

“Of course it did. That is what happens when you’re not careful,” he deadpans, knowing you had meant the little ‘slap’.

This guy! You’re already in pain and he adds on to it. “Shadow, you put it on wrong. Look, it’s crooked and peeking out.”

Before he puts the kit away, he pulls out one extra bandaid and slips it aside. “Did I?,” Shadow glances at it, “It looks fine to me.”

“No it’s not. Fix it!” You shove your poor aching hand into his face.

Shadow yanks it out of his face. “Alright. Fine.” The old bandage chucked into the trash and the new one replaces its spot with less roughness. He holds your wrist in place while he presses his lips to the bandage. “Is that better?”

“…Yes.”

“Good. I just want to make sure: does anywhere else hurt?”

“Well, I think I busted up my lips earlier too.”

A chuckle escapes him. Smiling, shaking his head, Shadow replies, “I was hoping you would address your limp…” His hand cups your cheek, thumb stroking your bottom lip. “But I don’t mind taking care of this first.”

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 5

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual themes and language, drinking, not my best work lol Wordcount: 6.6K A/C: so have we come up with a shipname for zari and paige yet?? anyways ty all for the support and sooo much love on the last part - especially those who remained patient for a new part! i've got a LOT of stuff going on rn so please be understanding if parts take a little longer to come out! i wanna write badly but i gotta prioritise real life unless y'all wanna start paying me lol anyways, this should be a rewarding chapter to some of y'all!! anyways go read!!

-

Before London

“The skirt,” my childhood friend Olivia’s voice filters through the speaker, my phone set up on my bed as I try on different outfits for the evening on facetime. 

I stare into my reflection, the black miniskirt not leaving much to imagination, my legs fully on display. I sigh, unsure whether it would be too much for the night.

“I don’t know Liv, the dress is a little less revealing though,” I complain, turning around and seeing the way the tight skirt hugs my curves.

“Exactly why you should wear the skirt instead.”

I laugh, shaking my head at her face on my phone screen. “I’m not going there to shag someone. It’s going to be mostly the team anyway.”

“Izzie, you are single now. Act like it. Have you even hooked up with anyone since…?”

I scoff. “Do you think I have time for anything like that?”

“Maybe if you schedule it in…” Olivia jokes, making my mouth fall open feeling offended.

“Hey! I’m perfectly happy being single right now. Love is the last thing I should be thinking about.”

“Well, I still think you should wear the skirt,” the girl answers, making me groan.

“Fine, okay gotta go. I’ll text you!” I wave bye, before hanging up, realising my ride must have arrived. One more glance in the mirror and I decide it will do - the black mini skirt and a matching black cowl neck top, the back draped low to reveal the smooth skin of my back along my spine. The outfit was simple yet sexy, the stacked chunky golden jewelry dressing the look up. I’ve pinned my hair up in a bun, curls falling out as if by accident - in reality the hairdo had taken over 45 minutes to accomplish.

“Good enough,” I murmur to myself, putting on my boots and quickly hurrying out the door. Just like we had agreed, Trey is waiting in an Uber, waving me over. He had sent me a message earlier asking if we could ride together. Of course I had said yes out of politeness. Though if I’m honest, I always felt a little uneasy around him.

“Hey!” I smile politely climbing into the backseat with a potted orchid in my hands.

Trey meets my smile with an even wider one, eyeing me up and down as I buckle my seatbelt.

“Housewarming present?” He asks, pointing to the potted flower. I shrug and nod.

“I didn’t really know what to get them,” I admit, crossing my legs and eyeing the purple and white flower.

“Lala’s gonna love that,” Trey nods, his eyes still locked on me and my outfit. “You look…” he goes silent, and from my peripheral vision I see the man shaking his head. “Really good.”

“Oh, thanks,” I mumble, brushing it off lightheartedly as I grab my phone which is frantically buzzing.

Paige  When are u coming? I’m already here and idk anyone Oh nvm Lou and Chris are here So… when u coming???

I feel my stomach doing flips as I read the texts, my mind still swirling with how she’d made me breakfast just earlier this morning. How my couch still smells just like her even hours later. I wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something comforting about her presence. The way she worked to make me laugh, to get me to relax. Like she wanted to take care of me.

Just left so I should be there soon x

Izzie Iz Help We’re drinking wine

Time to be a big girl and learn Paige

But I don’t wanna 🙁 Fine Bc you said so

Good girl

Freaky 😏

Paige

Sorry I pregamed

Of course you did I’ll be there soon x

Giggling at my phone, I place it on my lap, not wanting to be rude towards the man sitting next to me. Trey’s eyes are locked on me, and I can feel myself growing uneasy, especially when I realise I have nothing to talk to him about other than work.

”You excited for tonight?” He asks.

”Yeah, it’s going to be nice to see everyone out of work,” I answer, keeping my composure despite feeling awkward, begging he doesn’t pick up on it. I had become quite good at that (or Trey was more ignorant than I realised).

”Oh yeah, you haven’t really had the chance to do that yet huh?” He asks, his deep voice gravelly.

“Not really no.”

“Well, if you ever get lonely, you can always call me up Zari,” Trey says, reaching over and suddenly placing his hand on mine resting on my lap. I keep still as long as I can before pulling it away, pretending I just needed that specific hand to hold the pot in my lap now.

“Uh, yeah that’s really sweet of you. Thank you,” I chuckle awkwardly. “Paige lives right upstairs actually so I’ve been spending some time with her.”

Trey is taken aback, his brows rising. “Paige?”

“Yeah we’re friends,” I smile. Trey’s dark brown eyes keep watching me, clearly thinking about something till he shrugs and looks away. 

The drive is quiet, full of awkward comments by the man clearly eager to make conversation. Normally I was better than this at the small talk that the Americans seemed to love so much - but not today. I could feel my stomach twisting with nerves and butterflies in anticipation for the evening. I wasn’t entirely sure why. But all I knew I was eager to see Paige - she had a way of grounding me.

We finally get to the building, awkwardly accompanying each other in the elevator much like my first day working for the Wings. I’m the one to ring the doorbell, Trey standing close behind me.

“Hey pretty girl!” Lala opens the door with a warm smile. “Oh hey Trey, come in come in!”

She steps aside, letting both of us in. The hallway is long and the ceilings are high, the space modern but filled with gorgeous furniture bringing warmth into the space. 

“Wow, beautiful,” I gasp looking around.

“Issa work in process,” Lala laughs. I catch a glimpse into the open concept kitchen/living room, filled with people who had arrived on time unlike me and Trey (our Uber had taken a “shortcut”, which ended up taking 15 minutes longer than the normal drive.) I could tell alcohol was already flowing from the loud laughs echoing around the apartment.

“Oh, here you go!” I smile, handing Lala the orchid. “I wasn’t sure what you two wanted so I hope that’s okay.”

Lala gasps, admiring the plant. “No, this is gorg! And so are you, look at that skirt girl.”

I blush a little as she spins me around, admiring my outfit. 

“Is it too short?” I ask but Lala looks at me with raised brows. It’s then I notice her skirt is just as short, if not shorter. “Nevermind!”

The woman laughs, wrapping an arm around my waist and bringing me further into the apartment. My eyes immediately land on Paige next to Arike, both taking up half of the couch as if partaking in the Olympics of manspreading. Their laughs rise above the chatter of the crowd, making them impossible to miss. Even if subconsciously I had been looking for the blonde the second I stepped in.

“Yeah… they’re already drunk, thought you should know,” Lala nods towards the two.

“I heard, Paige was texting me already.”

The woman turns to me grinning a little. “Of course she was.” I’m not exactly sure what it means but don’t get the opportunity to ask before I hear a loud screech interrupting the both of us.

“Izzie!!” Paige gasps, her voice soaring above the noise. She climbs off the couch, rushing to me through the crowd. To my surprise the blonde wraps her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug. I can’t help the smile that spreads to my face. It comes naturally, when my arms wrap around her neck, pulling her in. Like since our first hug this morning, physical closeness felt easy. She smells like deodorant, sandalwood and a hint of alcohol. Breaking the hug, I eye her fit up and down - the olive cuban collar shirt and shorts in a matching pattern, two silver chains dangling on her neck, hair in a slicked back bun. 

All while I’ve been admiring Paige’s outfit, her gaze has been roaming across my body, taking me in. I notice a hint of red burning on her cheeks when her blue eyes land on my skirt. Suddenly I have the strongest need for a drink. Our stares meet, and for a fleeting moment I think she’s about to say something. But before she can, Arike is pulling me into a friendly hug.

“So glad you came, Zari! Whatchu wanna drink?” 

I feel flustered, barely hearing her. Clearing my throat, I finally answer, feeling the blonde’s eyes boring into me.

“White wine please?”

Lala laughs, shaking her head and grabbing my shoulders. “You’re gonna need something stronger to keep up with us baby.”

I laugh. “Okay, tequila soda then?”

“Attagirl, lime?”

“Yes please,” I nod, watching Lala and Arike head towards the kitchen island covered in bottles of booze and glasses, leaving me alone with Paige. 

For the first time in weeks, there’s a sense of awkwardness between us, neither of us knowing what to say. I wanted to tell her she looks good, that the olive against her skin that had grown more tan in Dallas made her glow in a way I had never seen before. But something in my throat doesn’t allow the words to come out. Thankfully the booze in Paige’s system makes her miss the weird tension completely.

“You look,” she starts, stepping closer to me, arm brushing against mine. She shakes her head, looking me up and down which is enough to make my ears burn. “Never seen you look like this before.”

I tilt my head, meeting her blue eyes challengingly. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

To my enjoyment, this makes her flustered, her cheeks bright pink now.

“You know it is ma,” she grins.

“You and that bloody nickname,” I shake my head, rolling my eyes at the blonde, when Lala and Arike return to us with my drink.

“You guys wanna play beer pong?” Arike asks as I grab the glass from Lala.

“What is this, a frat house?” Paige laughs, making Lala groan.

“Trust, it wasn’t my choice.”

-

After a long debate between me, Izzie, Arike and Lala on who should be teaming up, we decided that the only fair combination was me with Lala, while Arike and Izzie played against us - the girls claiming it wouldn’t be right for the two hoopers to play beer pong against non-athletes. Honestly, I barely had listened to the conversation at all. Because the way Izzie looks tonight has me grasping the drink in my hand so tight my knuckles were beginning to turn white. My mind is travelling to the filthiest places at the thought of what is underneath the hemline of her skirt, her glowy legs making me weak in the knees. Even worse was the low, scooped back of her shirt, her spine’s movement visible as she walked around the room. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, I couldn’t even stop the trembling of my hands. I needed to get more drinks in me quickly.

It seemed like the dark haired girl had the same idea, downing her first tequila soda in a matter of minutes as we set up the game. The tension often visible on her face only to me was slowly beginning to melt away.

“We’re about to win aight?” I tell Lala next to me, which makes Izzie let out a loud scoff.

“You really think I’ll let you win Bueckers?” The dark haired girl asks, challenging me.

“Yo, who’s the athlete here,” I respond, an arrogant grin on my face but she won’t back down, catlike eyes staring me down at the opposite end of the table.

“You’re enormously underestimating my desire to win.”

“Oh yeah?”

Izzie nods. “Yes Paige.”

And she’s right. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol already flowing in my system, or the way Izara looks, her green eyes locked on me everytime I bounce the ball off the table but my aim is off. And somehow she keeps aiming perfectly, a sly grin and her sharp eyes glimmering as she makes me drink one cup of beer after another, after another until Lala is the one to call it off, admitting defeat gracefully.

Arike and Izara hug, celebrating their win, but I can’t even be mad - the way Izzie’s mouth is stretched into a wide smile, the way she was letting go off her disciplined, hard exterior as a result of the alcohol was such a joy to watch I could’ve soaked in it forever.

“I told you! I told you!” Iz laughs, coming over to me and getting up in my face. But all I’m doing is smirking, my hand snaking around her waist and pulling her close without thinking about it much. But she doesn’t pull away either, even when our fronts nearly press together, heat radiating between us. The party has turned loud, drunk people bumping into each other, yelling over the music, but all I see is the dark haired girl in front of me, and the blush on her cheeks.

“You were cheating Iz,” I tell her, heavy eyes gazing down at the girl.

“How?” She asks, stunned.

I shrug. “I dunno.” I did know. It was that damn outfit. It took every ounce of self-discipline I had not to drag her to the bathroom and pull that skirt up. How was I expected to aim while my thoughts were running out of control.

“Here you areeeee!” Satou’s voice interrupts the moment, making me stumble backwards and letting go of the girl in my arms realising how close I’d been to losing control and leaning down to kiss her.

Satou hugs both me and Iz, looking around for the couple of the hour who have suddenly disappeared. “Where the lovebirds at?” She asks, holding a wrapped present in her hands. I chuckle shrugging but Zari lets out a giggle.

“Last I saw them they were getting pretty cosy,” she laughs, leaning into my side whether on purpose or on accident I’m not sure. But it leaves my skin tingling.

“No one’s surprised,” Satou laughs, waving her friend over. “Savannah, this is Paige and… Izara, right?” 

“She prefers Zari,” I correct before Iz can even say a word. From my peripheral vision I see her head snap to me, eyes growing softer as they land on me. I could tell she was happy with me, which made me want to get on my knees and beg for her to let me serve her forever. Okay, no, let me get a grip.

“Whassup,” I nod at Savannah, who smiles at both me and Izzie. Suddenly, the girl beside me stumbles as someone bumps into her, crashing straight into me.

“Woah,” I grab a hold of her, my hand naturally landing on the small of her back. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she giggles, watching me and her nose scrunching as her face twists into a laugh. The sparkling eyeshadow covering her eyelids makes her shine even more, curled strands falling onto her face out of the updo her long, dark hair is in. She looks so beautiful I feel breathless, even more so up close.

“You want a drink ma? I could use one,” I ask, staring into the green of her eyes, feeling the alcohol too much to realise that our faces are only inches away at this point.

She rolls her eyes. “Paige, I hate that nickname.”

“Do you want a drink or not woman?” I ask annoyed, teasing her. But her face hardens, and her eyes sharpen.

“Excuse me?”

Her tone is hard and serious, making my lower abdomen flip. As inappropriate as it feels, I’m exceptionally turned on.

I swallow, biting my lower lip. “Uh…”

“Woman?” She interrupts me, furrowing her brows. I can feel heat pooling between my legs, making my mind spin.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, my voice coming out shaky from how flustered my thoughts had turned me.

“What’s that?” She asks, brows rising as she watches my mouth expectantly.

“I’m sorry Izzie,” I say louder, my chest heaving now. To my surprise, I notice her breathing is growing heavy too.

“Mhm, that’s better,” she nods, eyes still on my mouth as I bite down on my lower lip. And for just a second, as my eyes flicker from her eyes to her glossed lips, I consider leaning in and pressing a kiss on them, mind jumping to how she might taste. Like heaven I bet.

“So a drink then?” Iz asks, interrupting my spinning thoughts. 

“Oh right, yeah,” I compose myself, “we’ll be right back.”

We leave Satou and Savannah alone, my hand on the small of Izara’s back guiding her through the people to the kitchen island.

“What do we want to drink?” The girl asks, looking at the row of bottles lining the counter. I lean in even closer to her side, letting my hand drag from her back to around her waist. The girl’s breath hitches audibly, yet she doesn’t pull back.

“Shots! Now!” Arike suddenly interrupts us, Lala following close behind her.

“Bro where you been?” I ask, watching as she begins to pour shots of vodka for all four of us. Her and Lala exchange a look that tells me I don’t want to know the answer to my question.

“Nevermind,” I mumble, making Izzie giggle, the alcohol finally loosening her up.

“No, I really shouldn’t,” the dark haired girl shakes her head, pushing the shot away.

“Oh c’mooonnn!!” I groan, pushing it back.

“Yeah Zari, c’mon,” Rike complains.

I pick up my own shot glass, and Izara’s as well, bringing it to her lips. She’s considering, meeting my gaze, until her pretty lips open and I tip the glass, pouring the shot into her mouth as I throw my head back, swallowing mine. 

“Holy shit,” I cough, making everyone around me laugh, looking at the dark haired girl whose face doesn’t even twitch from the alcohol. Damn.

“And another oneeee,” Arike laughs, now pouring tequila into the glasses, clearly trying to get us two drunk. I glare at her, picking up on what she was up to. But Rike merely winks at me, handing us salt and lemon slices.

“Oh boy,” Izara chuckles, eyeing the alcohol. I follow closely as her tongue darts out to lick her wrist, my mind spinning with dirty thoughts involving that tongue between my le-

“Lemon!” The girl yelps, squeezing her eyes shut having taken the shot. I quickly grab the slice from the counter, holding Izzie’s face still by her chin as I place the wedge between her lips. Her teeth bite into it, sucking on the bitter fruit to get rid of the taste in her mouth.

Her dark lashes flutter open, and she pulls away with a grin. “Your turn.”

I scratch the back of my neck, feeling my tongue already growing numb from the alcohol, my speech certainly beginning to slur soon.

“Yo Zari, you should let Paige lick the salt from your wrist,” Arike yells from the opposite side of the counter, earning a slap on the shoulder from Lala.

“Huh?” Izara laughs, turning to the pair.

“Ignore her, God knows I do,” Lala rolls her eyes.

Flustered, I fumble with the salt shaker, licking it off my hand and downing the shot of tequila, feeling the burn in my throat making me want to cough. To my surprise, Iz brings the slice of lemon to my lips, the bitter taste putting an end to the burn.

I can feel the alcohol hitting, making my cheeks burn - or maybe it’s the way the dark haired girl is looking at me, her eyes even more catlike than normal, sparkling in the dimmed lighting. Either way I can feel my brain and mouth beginning to slow down, yet my words and actions seem simultaneously sped up, like I couldn’t think them through before doing.

“I’mma admit, I’m drunk as fuck,” I laugh, making Izara throw her head back and let out a bright chuckle, grabbing onto my shoulder as she does. Fuck she looks hotter than usual, the hard, poised exterior breaking, letting me catch little glimpses into her internal life, reminiscent of the softness on her face when she fell asleep on me.

“Let’s run away before Arike makes us take more shots,” she whispers and simultaneously somehow screams, grabbing my arm and dragging me down behind the island, as if Arike and Lala weren’t standing right on the other side, watching the two of us. Still I let her, crouching behind it and letting her drag me wherever she wants to. 

-

I love Dallas! Or maybe I should reconsider when I’m sober, but now that the shots and drinks had been flowing, I had decided I loved Dallas for certain. Paige and I have been hiding behind a corner, by the entrance to Arike’s and Lala’s bedroom, for the past hour, giggling and talking. I’ve realised Paige might be one of my favourite people I’ve ever met, the strain in my abs a reminder of how easily she made me laugh. How effortless it was to spend time with her, like I didn’t have to put up any exterior or front. I felt comfortable being myself with her. So naturally, in my drunken state, the words slip from my lips easily.

“You’re like, my favourite person right now,” I giggle, leaning my back against the cool wall and watching upwards at her. Paige’s eyes are heavy and red as a result of the alcohol, hair somehow still neatly slicked back, however a button on her chest left unbuttoned, displaying that she definitely wasn’t wearing a bra under the shirt.

“Yeah?” Paige asks, a proud smirk on her face. She’s standing in front of me, arms crossed.

“Don’t let it get into your head darling,” I scoff, pushing her off by her abdomen, feeling the muscles there tighten when my fingertips graze her through the shirt. For whatever reason I’d been wanting her to touch me all night, enjoying the times she wrapped her arm around my waist, or guided me through a crowd. It felt good to be touched, so I didn’t worry about what it meant further. I just wanted her hands on me. Like you’d want to hug a friend after remembering how much you love them.

“Why do you get to have all these nicknames but I don’t get to call you ma?” She asks, stumbling back but returning to her prior position, if not a little closer. I place my hands on her waist, having to tilt my head to look at her - that’s how close she is.

“Why do you want to call me ma?”

“Because,” she groans, looking for something to say. “Ion know it suits you.”

“Why?” I laugh.

“Because you’re sexy.”

I’m drunk. And I know it’s because I’m drunk. It has to be. But I can feel myself begin to throb between my legs when Paige says those words, when her teeth bite onto her bottom lip, when she looks me up and down. Suddenly I’m painfully aware of the swirling in my lower abdomen, the heat spreading straight to my core.

The blonde rubs the bridge of her nose. “Ahh shit Iz, I didn’t mean it like that. My bad. You just look really damn good. In like a friend wa-”

“You think I look sexy?”

It’s like my mouth and brain aren’t working together, the words just forming and leaving my lips without a single thought or action to stop them. For some reason it comes out almost whiny. Like I want her opinion, her reassurance.

Paige looks surprised, clenching her jaw before kissing her teeth and licking her lips, hands twitching as if for something to touch.

“I meannn… you really gotta ask that?” She says hoarsely, stepping closer and placing her hands on my hips. It feels good, but I want more, pushing my body off the wall and pressing my front against her. The sparks are immediate, and I nearly groan at the contact. 

“You didn’t answer,” I demand, staring into the blues of her eyes. Only then I realise how blue they really are, like a turquoise ocean against a sandy beach, inviting, beautiful. My heart begins to pound, even more so when I feel Paige’s hands move from my waist, downwards to my hips, to the small of my back, and finally to my ass. 

“Perfect,” she coos.

The breath she lets out is heavy, loud, but I barely register, my mouth parting a little. To say the chills travelling through my body are overwhelming would be an understatement, my mind suddenly spinning with realisation of something I’d been feeling for a while, yet only recognised now.

“Is this okay?” Paige asks, making me nod my head. When I do so I feel the blonde’s hands squeeze just a little, forcing a breathy whimper to spill from my lips. Overcome with the urge to be even closer to her, I wrap my arms around the girl’s broad shoulders and lean my head into the crook of her neck, my body slotting against hers just right. It feels euphoric.

 “Baby I would leave too if I was Paige, that poor girl got to deal with you on a daily basis alr-”

Suddenly Lala’s voice grows louder as she turns the corner, Arike on her tail. 

“Oh, sorry y’all,” the woman gasps seeing us embracing, Paige’s hands resting on my ass. Embarrassed, I pull away, nearly pushing the blonde off of me.

“Uh, I need a drink,” I murmur, my thoughts moving so quickly they make no sense, not even entirely sure what just happened in a drunken hue.

“Yoooo,” I hear Arike snickering, and Lala shutting her up.

Paige follows close behind me all the way back to the kitchen island, people around the apartment now notably drunker, louder, stumbling into each other. “You aight?” 

“Yeah, yes. I am,” I murmur, pouring whatever booze there was in reach into a glass and downing it, attempting to calm the running thoughts trying to make sense of all of this.

“You sure ma?”

Fuck. The nickname. Suddenly it’s making my core burn, and I feel arousal pooling between my legs almost uncomfortably. Maybe that nickname wasn’t so bad. Maybe it got me so hot and bothered I could barely think. Maybe I wanted her to call me that and only that for the rest of my life.

“Mm, I’m sure,” I mumble, turning to look at the tall blonde beside me, the way some of the buttons on her shirt have come undone, the way she’s eyeing me back, her veiny hands wrapping around a bottle as she pours herself another drink, the chains on her neck, dangling into her shirt. It’s then when I realise - I want to fuck Paige Bueckers.

“Here you are, Paige! Have you seen Satou?” Savannah interrupts us, but my eyes are still stuck on the blonde next to me.

“No, I got no idea where she is sorry.”

“What about your girlfriend, she seen her?”

Suddenly my eyes snap from Paige to the stranger leaning over the island, blinking stupidly.

“I’m not her girlfriend,” I say sternly, my tone harder than it needs to be. I could feel myself getting overwhelmed.

“Wh- oh shit, I’m sorry. You two just seem like a coup-”

“We’re not together,” Paige interrupts her, clearly picking up on my stress levels rising. I feel the room spinning, my breathing growing shallow, my cheeks burning up.

Lala, who had been watching me and the blonde all night, swiftly walks over and grabs me by the waist. “Come with me baby,” she coos, her voice caring and affectionate as she walks me into the couple’s bedroom, closing the door behind us, separating me from everything causing the engulfing emotions.

“Sit down Zari, I’ll get you some water.”

I do as the older woman says, feeling embarrassed, just praying to any God that I didn’t cause a scene. I could feel my head spinning still, the effect from the alcohol still flowing in my bloodstream.

Lala returns and hands me a glass. I chug it down, handing it back to the woman and staring at the floor.

“Are you alright?” Lala asks, sitting next to me and following me closely. I rub my forehead, shrugging.

“I’m sorry, I think I’m more drunk than I realised,” I murmur but the woman shakes your head.

“I think it’s more than that, Zari.”

I look at her, a knowing expression on the woman’s face.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s Paige isn’t it, you like her?”

I sigh, not even sure how to answer that question. Not sure at all what the feelings swirling inside me meant. 

“I… I just think I’m drunk-”

“She likes you,” Lala interrupts me. I take her words in, blinking slowly as I do. Paige likes me?

“How do you know?” I ask in a moment of vulnerability. Something about the older woman made me feel safe.

Lala chuckles, shaking her head. “I think everybody knows baby.”

Oh.

I’m speechless for once, staring at the wall, recounting every interaction I had ever had with the blonde girl. My friend. Could she really like me? Worse of all, have I led her on?

“Look, just be careful alright. Don’t give her the wrong idea if… you know, you don’t feel the same,” Lala rubs my shoulders, like reading my thoughts. It all confused me, my feelings most of all - and deep deep down I wasn’t sure about what I felt, my mind an entangled, confusing pile of perplexity.

-

“Hey you alright?” Paige murmurs to me, pressing into my back as I’m pouring myself more water in the kitchen after my little breather. My body is covered in chills once more by her proximity - which must be a sign I like her at least a little bit. Or maybe I’m just needy for someone to touch me. I was drunk after all, and it had been a while. But then again, these chills always occurred when the blonde’s hands were on me, sometimes even when they were not. Just a simple look was enough.

“Yeah, I felt a little dizzy. Feel better now though,” I murmur, finishing another glass of water.

Paige hesitates, chewing on her cheek, clearly in her head as I turn around and notice her expression. “I didn’t do too much ri-”

“Here you are!! I love this song, come dance!” A drunk Satou interrupts the moment, dragging both me and the blonde into the living room, not giving us much choice in the matter. 

“Song’s almost over,” Paige chuckles, glancing at me as I shrug but follow the two hoopers.

“Who cares, I love it!” Satou laughs. We’re surrounded by a few others, dancing to the Drake song echoing around the apartment. As the beat fades out, I hear the soft melody of What You Heard by Sonder take over.

“Nooo, boo, I’mma go ask for more Drake,” Satou murmurs, walking off, leaving me and Paige alone.

Our gazes meet and we chuckle at the same time at the girl who just left, clearly even drunker than me and Paige.

“Fuck your mind up, waste time, I'm prone to that, do it all the time, Keep your guard up or wait in line”

“This song is actually fire,” Paige grins and I nod.

“It is.”

I take a dip in her blue eyes, finding comfort in them as the song plays, not at all shocked when Paige steps closer and grabs a hold of my waist, swaying with me. The alcohol is still pumping through my veins, making it easy to wrap my arms around her neck without thinking what it might mean. It felt good to be close to her, so what?

“What's the word? Tell me what you've heard, Don't tell me what to do, just tell me when it hurts.”

Paige sings along to the lyrics, the tiniest bit off-key yet something about it makes me grow flustered quickly, mind flashing with images of her doing exactly what the lyrics describe.

“What's the word? Tell me what you've heard, Don't tell me what to do, just tell me when it hurts, When I get you to myself, it's murder,” I sing back to Paige, our eyes meeting. Her eyelids are heavy from the drinks, and there’s a hint of a smirk on her face. Her silver chains sparkle in the dim lighting, but all I’m looking at is the way she’s staring me down.

Something about the alcohol makes me bold, pressing my body closer to hers, my fingernails scratching into the back of her neck gently, watching as her eyes nearly flutter shut at the contact.

“You be wildin', I be wildin', too, But not like you, shit, maybe a little like you, Maybe we ain't so different, maybe I be trippin', too,” we sing to each other, the blonde’s thumbs rubbing circles on my hips as we dance together. I feel the burn from earlier spread to my core once more, making it hard to think clearly. 

Our faces are inching closer, to the point where I can feel her hot breath on my skin. My heart begins to pound and it becomes difficult to keep my eyes open. Paige licks her lips, leaning downwards. For a moment I think she’s about to kiss me, the distance between us growing smaller and smaller - until she ghosts my lips, turning her face, mouth hovering right over my ear, warm breath tickling against my skin.

“If he was a winner, Girl, you wouldn't have to worry 'bout a damn thing, If I was up in it, shit, I bet a pound that I'd put it down, Make you forget that you was ever with him,” she murmurs into my ear with the lyrics of the song, left hand staying on my hip, right hand coming up to the back of my head to hold it still as we keep swaying to the melody.

I feel flustered, my cheeks growing hotter and my core aching for something. No, not for something - for Paige.

“And I hate talking 'bout my stroke game, But girl, I'm giving you the whole thing,” she murmurs with a deep, hoarse voice, my body tingling and on fire at the same time. 

Turning my face, my nose brushes into the blonde’s, but I’m too scared to open my eyes, too scared that if I do I’ll start thinking again, realising how senseless this entire situation is.

Paige’s nose nuzzles mine, and I can hear the shallowness of her breathing, her hand at the back of my head maneuvering me in a way so our lips are hovering over each other. I feel like I might pass out, my heart trying to race out of my chest at this point.

“Paige, Zari, I finally found herrrr!” Satou shouts over the crowd, making both of us pull away. My eyes shoot open and I see the girl holding her friend Savannah.

“Oh! Good!” I smile awkwardly, Paige’s hands still on me. 

“Jesus…” The blonde murmurs to herself, looking around clearly frustrated by the unwelcome interruption. “You wanna go to the balcony for, uh, some fresh air?”

“Yeah,” I nod, without thinking. I let the tall girl walk me onto the balcony, closing the door behind us.

Fresh air it is not, the weather a hot and humid warning for the approaching scorching Dallas summer. But it still feels right to be alone with Paige, under the dark Texas sky. I glance upwards, looking at the stars to avoid meeting the blonde’s stare.

“So damn hot,” Paige groans, unbuttoning her shirt even more to get more airflow, though I couldn’t care less. I’m only gazing at the way the chains on her neck rest against her skin.

“Yeah, it certainly is,” I mumble, leaning my back against the glass railing.

Paige looks at me with something I can’t recognise, her expression softening as she’s taking steps towards me. “Fuck, that accent,” she murmurs, her hands easily finding their way to my waist again.

“What do you mean?” I laugh.

She shrugs. “I dunno, I just love hearing you talk.”

I chuckle, bringing my hand to her chest and playing with the chain there, number 5 dangling off it. Paige grins too, continuing.

“And the things you say too.”

I scoff, displeased. “Like what?”

“I dunno! British things!”

“British things??” I ask, laughing so hard my stomach begins to hurt, my fingers still fiddling the number 5.

“Like… Taking the piss!” She laughs, leaning closer. I bend forward too, my face scrunching as pearls of giggles spill from my mouth.

“Oh my God, you’re so stupid,” I murmur in a blur of joy, my hand snaking behind her head. In the haze of the alcohol and the giggles and the newfound feelings, before I can think it through, I’m pulling her down by the chain and her head, leaning closer and kissing her.

It’s heaven. Every nerve in my body is on fire. The blonde’s lips open for me, slowly but sensually sliding against mine. My legs feel weak, and my nails dig into the skin of her neck, a whimper leaving my mouth but she swallows it, groaning in response. Her hands squeeze my waist before moving to my face, landing on my jaw to keep me as close as possible - like she might die if I pull away.

I’m pressed closer to the glass behind my back as the kiss grows hungrier. Paige’s mouth opens further, her tongue darting out to slide against my lower lip, begging for entry with a small whine slipping from the blonde’s mouth. It’s like everything pent up was finally releasing, something I didn’t even know was there, bubbling right underneath the surface. My tongue meets Paige’s, both of us melting into the kiss. I feel like putty in her hands, like she could mold me whichever way possible. This is the best kiss I’ve ever experienced, I know that for sure. Jasper always kissed in such a stiff, forceful way. Right. Jasper.

It takes me back to the moment, as if for a sliver of a second I can think clearly. What the fuck am I doing. This isn’t me. I haven’t thought this through at all. I’m leading Paige on.

Abruptly I pull back for air, the taller girl already dragging me back into another kiss needily. But I push Paige back by her chest, stopping her. We’re both breathing heavily, staring at each other. What the fuck am I doing.

“I have to go, I’m sorry,” I mumble, shoving her off me as gently as I can, saying quick goodbyes to Lala and Arike before practically running down the stairs and throwing myself into a cab, leaving Paige upstairs as if nothing happened. The only proof of the night’s events merely the way my lips still burn and tingle, and my racing heart and swirling mind trying to make sense of everything.

-

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[blackknight-kai]

Hello! I've been reading your works and I absolutely love it 💖💖 you're actually the first few people who got me into this fandom, and for that I'm eternally grateful ☺

As for the ask, is it ok if I ask general yan HCS of both monkeys? Maybe with fem reader? NSFW is fine. Thanks so much and have a good day! ❤

OOoOOooOOkay! So Ima give this my best shot! Keep in mind I do more ‘soft’ yandere mainly because I do like me a bit of romance with my darker stuff. I WILL add some darker things at the end though!! (I don’t delve into yan often so bare with me 🫶🫂 I’m learning)

Keep in mind before proceeding this isnt your typical HC everyone :)! It’s going to have some Non Con/stalking/whatever comes to my mind. I went with whatever direction my brain was going so I hope this came out okay!

Warning: Yandere ideas

Destined One

At first you didnt notice anything different about him compared to anyone else outside of the obvious physical traits and some personality traits. He’s reserved, quiet, and focused entirely on his goals. His determination and strength is something that awes you to this day. Something you do notice about him though is that hes observant. Always taking note of his surroundings and using his senses to keep himself aware of what going on. When you first started traveling with him he seemed to almost…ignore you a bit. As though you weren’t really a scratch on his so called journey and mission. But over time you start to notice him staring at you and watching you. It’s a little intense but you just chalk it up to him being him, maybe he’s curious about his companion finally?

- [ ] He hadnt really thought much of you when you first joined him. It honestly took him a bit of time to realize he’d grown a bit….attached to you. His eyes always following your every move and his ears always listening for you. Your scent? He has that memorized.

- [ ] DO is going to start off subtle about his attentions towards you. He’s not going to be rash, unless something pushes him to it.

- [ ] He’s ALWAYS watching you. Always knows where you are and what youre doing.

- [ ] His feelings for you go from zero to almost 100 - although he’s silent about it at first. You’re going to notice him staring or even sometimes getting things you needed for you before you even knew you needed it.

- [ ] DO doesnt do things in half measures. He’s focused. Which means once he’s turned his attentions on you, ALL of him is focused on you.

- [ ] DO knows it’s wrong, but cant stop himself from doing some of the more…inappropriate things with you. Such as watching you while you bathe or change.

- [ ] *Non Con - He’s going to end up touching you while you sleep. Be it an accident at first (yeah right) or he just doesn’t stop his urge to do so. But he’s going touch you because you’re too inviting to him. He won’t go so far as full on sex, but you will be caressed and eventually as he gains confidence you’ll find marks you’re not sure where they came from. He’s going to decide the very first night his hands slip under your clothes that you are his.

- [ ] No one else will EVER see you or touch you like he had. Ever.

- [ ] He’s going to be hyper attentive to you, lulling you into this sense of “Aw he cares for me and takes care of me”. While YES he does, it’s also to further his own goal in regards to you. The foods he brings? Not every time, but sometimes might have a little something in them that makes you a little…sleepy. Pliant. So he can run his hands under your clothes or leave little marks on you without you making a fuss. Your body will NOT be afraid of his touch, he’s going to make sure of it. Sex is still something he’s reserving for…claiming you fully. For now, he’s going to take his time getting your body just used to his hands and the way he makes you feel with them or his tail.

- [ ] He’s going to manhandle you, sit you where he wants you and if you fuss he’s stubborn and won’t budge about it, using his strength to hold you where he put you, to the point you let him have his way because it’s not worth arguing over.

- [ ] You dont realize it but he’s also been scenting the hell out of you, your clothes, and even your bed furs. To you, it just smells like a combination of you, the forest, and of him - which you dont think anything of because he carries stuff for you a lot.

- [ ] But him scenting that stuff? It’s a very loud claim especially since it’s not just him rubbing his face or neck on the items….no he’s rubbing those materials around his cock and balls. Getting his musk all over it.

- [ ] On you, he will be a bit more subtle with his scenting. Wrapping a tail around you or brushing his hand through your hair or against you as he walks by. But sometimes DO shoves his hand down his pants, coating his hand or even tail in his musk and then rubs it on you. You are HIS.

- [ ] He’s jealous as all hell too and will make it known by how he behaves towards others in regards to you. Does NOT like anyone even looking at you, it makes him want to carry you off to some makeshift nest and KEEP you there, to prevent wandering eyes.

- [ ] Speaking of, as soon as his journey ends thats exactly what he wants to do. If he doesnt have a place in mind he’s definitely going to make sure he finds one. It will be the nest for the two of you. He will make sure he gets you everything you need so you wont need to go out.

- [ ] Before that though, he’s going to do everything in his power to make sure you know that you’re his and he’s going to make sure you dont want anyone else.

- [ ] When his journey is over, immediately youre thrown over his shoulder. He’s carting you off to your permanent home, away from any dangers or the possibility of someone stealing you away from him.

- [ ] Here is where he’s a bit more…demanding and forceful. See, by this point he knows your body wants him, he’s smelled and felt how wet you get for his touch and he’s seen your eyes on him. You’ve been slowly pulled into his orbit once he has you in his chosen space he’s going to have all of you.

- [ ] He’s not going to just strip you and shove himself in, no. He still wants to make sure your body is willing. So he’s going to be more bold and more obvious about his touches.

- [ ] Bathing alone? Not anymore. Changing alone? Nope. Unless he’s gone doing something like gathering food or a quick patrol, your body is for his eyes. He will let you have some modesty but he’s going to slip his hands under your clothes when he pleases and feel your soft warm skin.

- [ ] You’re going to be awake when his tail or fingers forcefully slip between your legs, he’s going to pull orgasms out of you until your awake conscious learns to relax for his touch like your sleeping body and conscious do.

- [ ] You wont be allowed to leave, he will make sure a clone is around you at all times if he cant be and when youre sleeping he’s wrapped around you, his limbs like vices.

- [ ] Your skin will be marked with his bites and some claw marks, not deep enough to truly harm but enough to remind you of him when he’s out of sight.

- [ ] He will slowly get you addicted to his taste as well, slipping a pre or cum coated finger into your mouth as you orgasm so your brain learns that his taste means pleasure.

- [ ] When he takes you he’s going to be gentle but firm, he wants you to feel good but also wont let you resist him. He’s CLAIMING you now. His fangs will bite into you, this time with the purpose to scar his claim on you.

- [ ] After this, he’s going to make sure youre always ready for him, is not above using a clone to keep you spread open and wet for him via cock warming or a prefucking. You will be molded to the shape of his cock.

- [ ] He’s also going to slip inside you when you sleep, waking you as he ruts into you or touches your body.

- [ ] Your body WILL know that his touch means pleasure, but if you resist he’s going to make sure you remember your place. He will be rougher with you. Wanting you to submit.

- [ ] He will always pamper you after, cuddling you and cleaning you. But his cum will remain inside you until he’s ready to help you wash it out.

- [ ] He’s going to make sure you are so reliant on him, his touch, his presence, and all he does for you that you wont remember that his possessiveness isnt normal, that he’d stolen you away without asking and that he continues to lay his claim on you.

- [ ] No, youre lulled into a sense of belonging with him….youre his to care for, protect, and take.

- [ ] All in all and in general, Destined One is a quiet but firm yandere lover. Only when you really push back/push his dominance does he get too harsh with you. Depending on WHEN he finds you will depend on how quickly he steals you away. But he’s going to take care of you, you are HIS mate and mates are to be cared for, protected. He knows it’s not exactly normal to keep you the way he does, but something in him wont allow for you to even have the possibility to consider someone else. He’s going to show you that HE is the best for you. That HE knows the best for you. He may be jealous and possessive but he wont harm you so much so that you would be repulsed by his touch. No, he wants you pliant and giving in when he reaches for you, relaxing in his embrace or even seeking his touch out. If you take your pleasure with out him, he’s not going to let you sleep, it will get to the point you will end up passing out and he will keep going. He’s going to take you again when you wake. Your pleasure is for him to take and give.

Wukong:

Wukong is…very friendly to you. He also is a very good, if sometimes annoying, traveling companion or protector. So you really don’t notice anything out of the ordinary with him in the beginning. By the time you do it’s honestly too late for you. He’s lulled you into his intricate web and there’s no escape from him. Because he’s had his eyes on you and what Wukong wants, Wukong gets. He also knows there is no one else better than him for you.

- [ ] He knows almost immediately after meeting you that he wants you. It’s not a normal ‘want’ either. It’s the kind of greed he that claws at him from the inside desperate to get out and get a hold of you.

- [ ] Wukong will temper SOME of his more…greedy tendencies down. At first. But he has a way about him that is very demanding and commanding. Being the King and powerful being he is.

- [ ] He has a way of making you feel comfortable around him, as though you belong by his side. He’s going to make sure you see HIM as your protector and someone to go to for help or anything you need.

- [ ] Wukong will be outright flirtatious with you, but he wont be overtly forceful with his touches right away. He wants to get you warmed up to him and used to his ‘casual’ touches. Something he does NOT do for others but you dont need to know that.

- [ ] He definitely disguises himself when you go bathing, be it a fish in the water or a bug flying about. He wants his eyes on you at all times. Yes, this means he may brush against you often while in his forms of trickery.

- [ ] Would absolutely disguise himself as a woman in a bathhouse if you went to one and offer to help you bathe. (He will fish for compliments about himself if you mention him traveling with you)

- [ ] Wukong is going to be manipulative in a way you dont even realize. He’s mouthy and cunning so he’s going to use his words to steer you in whatever direction he wants things to go in.

- [ ] He’s also very opinionated and stubborn, sometimes using that to his advantage to get you to submit to him with some kind of benefit after, be it something he gets for you or he’s just all around more pleasant. He’s subtle about it all at first.

- [ ] Everything will be orchestrated to his needs/wants even if it LOOKS like it’s yours, because in his mind he knows what’s best FOR you.

- [ ] You’re going to wear clothes he finds for you (will probably take your preferences into consideration because he wants you happy but will definitely get things that suit his taste too), you will periodically have to share his clothes (because he dirty’s yours on purpose or ruins them).

- [ ] He wants you to rely on him for most things, getting you food to cook, personal effects/items, etc. Essentially hes going to be a sugar daddy LMFAO but in a way that he’s not necessarily giving you money, he just gets the thing for you while you wait for him because he wants you getting used to HIM taking care of you.

- [ ] *Non Con - Wukong will definitely slip things at times into your food or drink, wanting to make you think your having lovely dreams about him but in reality he has you in his lap, your legs spread wide open, one over each of his knees as he’s caressing your body or filling your hole with his tail or fingers. The wet sounds filling the air while youre out of it. Come morning there wont be a trace on you - besides the ever present lingering scent of his on your skin thanks to how touchy he is in general. Through this he explores your body, getting it needy for his touch.

- [ ] He’s also going to cum on you while you sleep or will rub his precum on the inside of your panties so when you wear them you dont even realize what he’s done as its mixed with your natural discharge of fluids that end up on your underwear throughout the day. But HIS precum and scent is pressed directly against your pussy all day.

- [ ] Depending on the situation - he may steal you away right away or he might wait and bide his time, getting you to be relaxed with him before he takes you away for himself.

- [ ] Either way, once he has you to himself he’s going to get more intense. He may not penetrate you right away but he’s going to make you crave him, until you finally beg him to bully his cock into your hole.

- [ ] He’s going to press against you all the time, rubbing his body on yours, striping you and bringing you to the edge of pleasure with his fingers, mouth, or tail until UH OH, you didnt beg him to claim you. Oops….cant orgasm because you clearly dont need him like you should. But that doesnt mean HE cant cum. So he’s going to do so and rub it into your skin or cuming against your mouth as he holds it open. Wukong wants to cum in your pussy but he holds back, instead cleaning his cock off with your panties and making you wear them all day. Showing ownership over you.

- [ ] As mentioned before, hes mouthy. He’s going to be good at using his words and voice to pick at things and make you question things. Including calling you out on your body’s reactions to him. He finds it amusing when you try to hide it. He’s going to dig into those things about you and make you squirm - get you worked up as he whispers filthy things to you. Things you might not even have thought about but now you are.

- [ ] All you’re going to know is him, what he can give you and what he does for you. He’s made sure of it. So by the time you finally beg him to stuff you full, finally fully submitting to him and giving up your stubborn pride, he’s not going to hesitate. He’s going to press you down, ass up face pressed to the floor or bed with his hand on the back of your neck as he holds you down. His cock is going to enter you in one thrust and he will be nice for just a moment to let you spasm around his shape. Wukong will coo at you and the second you even slightly relax hes going to pull back and thrust in hard. The way he takes you that first time is total dominance, you will know who you belong to and where you belong. His finger prints will be bruised into your skin and his bite mark on you as he fully claims you as HIS MATE.

- [ ] He’s going to take care of you after though dont worry, he will be gentle and kiss your body. But he’s going to make you orgasm no matter how sore or overstimulated you are - this second round will be softer. The part of him that loves you and wants to pamper you taking over.

- [ ] Wukong wont have any issue playing with you in front of his monkeys (adult ones), so if there’s a meeting going on expect his tail to wander where it shouldn’t, slipping inside you. Or he will have a clone who’s bullied his way between your legs under the table. He might even have you sit on his cock, keeping still as he deals with whatever monkey business is going on. No one will ever see an intimate part of you, he wants to keep that for himself. But they will hear you screaming his name and they will see his marks on you.

- [ ] Over all Wukong as a yandere is much more vocally and mentally manipulative. He is also raw power and strength not used to being denied. If youre too stubborn or push back he’s going to show you who is boss and why HIS way is best. He wont ever truly harm you, but youre going to know punishment / consequences for your actions if you displease him. You’re his mate, so he’s going to take care of you but it’s going to be in the way he deems best. If you fully give yourself over to him he will pamper the absolute fuck out of you while also probably pushing your boundaries here and there. Because he LIKES showing his ownership of you. Wukong wont mind you taking your own pleasure but for every orgasm you have (essentially taking them from him) he’s going to have some form of punishment lined out for you. Your body is going to know the feel of him and him alone, or him and his clones because he has zero problem with pushing you to your limits with his clones, wanting to see you cock drunk on him.

General Both:

- [ ] Regularly walks around with your juices on his chin or on the fur surrounding his cock.

- [ ] Good at after care but doesn’t hold back when he wants something

- [ ] Loves seeing his marks on your skin and presses against them regularly with his fingers to watch you squirm and remember how you got the marks.

- [ ] Not above using all the tricks in the book to get you.

- [ ] Will happily chase you down if you run - into predator/prey stuff.

- [ ] Sensitive to your returned (given willingly) affection.

Extra dark -

these are harsher so skip if you don’t like: Doing a “both” here because it’s easier. These are in general terms so different AUs/situations apply

- [ ] Very jealous & possessive. If someone shows interest in you…they aren’t gonna live long.

- [ ] Will manipulate the things around you without you knowing to get what he wants which is YOU. Be it people or events etc - will make himself look like a good option/only option you have. (If he has to clone into someone or kill someone / make them look bad he will do it)

- [ ] He thinks he knows what’s best for you so whatever he needs to do he will and you will learn that too.

- [ ] Will kill someone you may have been interested in/with/might be married off too.

- [ ] Will assert his dominance by fucking you/making you scream for him in front of someone who had eyes on you/dating you/married to you/getting married to you while a clone of his holds them captive- will kill them after he’s done showing the person who you belong to.

- [ ] Will have you cock warm him while he’s doing important things (WK kingly duties etc). Doesn’t care if others are in the room but they better not LOOK at you. That’s the rule.

- [ ] Will use you until he’s done - especially if you fight him. But he’s going to make sure you crave him and his touch/pleasure.

- [ ] Rough with you, you will have his marks on your body at all times be it scratch’s or bites and bruises. (Might make a special mark - maybe his initials)

- [ ] Going to keep you open and wet for him for when he needs you. Loves you cock drunk and mindless. Uses you as stress relief too after a hard day/fight

- [ ] Would absolutely baby trap you.

- [ ] If he wanted to really play with you, he’d capture you, fuck you, and release you with his cum still filling you (he’s going to be near by don’t worry). He will do this many times until all you can dream about is him/his touch. (Yes he could just keep you but he wants to mentally mess with you - make you crave the pleasure he forces on you)

- [ ] In that same category- will spike your food/drink and will fuck you into his shape. You’ll wake thinking you had some erotic dream but in reality he had genuinely claimed you.

- [ ] Will stalk the fuck out of you, you’ll catch him out of the corner of your eye because he WANTS you to. Wants to smell your fear a little because it excites him.

- [ ] Will make you walk around with his cum on your skin/In you - you WILL smell like his.

- [ ] Will get you anything you need but takes his payment from your body/pleasure. (Publicly too)

- [ ] You will wear the things he picks for you, some for his eyes only. Be it body jewelry or sexy items. When you’re in public you wear his favorite colors on you or the things he adorns you with.

- [ ] Fighting him is useless and only eggs him on - push him too much though and he WILL assert his power over you. You won’t be moving anywhere and will feel his ‘punishment’

- [ ] Mentally/emotionally will make it so you are so far gone on him and dependent on him you don’t even consider escaping anymore.

- [ ] Because while he’s dominant and forceful he adds enough sweetness to keep you addicted to him. Yes, he will take care of you and your basic needs and even provide good after care. You are his mate at the end of the day.

- [ ] You sleep with him every night - snug against his body. (If he hasn’t stolen you away he’s definitely sneaking into your bed)

- [ ] Regularly uses his clones not only to monitor you but to keep you ready for him. Might play punishment games if you cum while being touched by a clone.

- [ ] If someone tries to help you escape you’re going to be given their head as a trophy.

- [ ] If someone tries to take you from him, he’s going to level mountains.

- [ ] Might test you to see if you will try to escape….punishments as consequences.

- [ ] Will protect you with everything he has and any children you give him.

- [ ] Depending on the situation is suspicious if you returning affection - but if he sees it’s genuine he’s going to be smug as fuck and also very vulnerable about it but won’t show that.

[toomuchbirth]

Birth Quickie 2:

Conversation

I hadn't thought it would feel like this.

Sure I’d seen shows. Even videos. I assumed they were playing it up, being dramatic. It was taking all my focus not to scream with the contractions, or break down sobbing as I felt this parasite moving down inside me. I hadn't meant for it to.happen here, like this. I was supposed to be hiding in the shed, or at least the basement.

Then mom and dad had friends from the office over and asked me to stay upstairs. I didn't argue, assumed it would be ok. Then contractions started getting worse, my waters broke and soaked my sweats and panties. I knew from looking into it that didn't really mean anything. Sure, it was alarming, but come on. I could have hours still, even the better part of a day.

Of course, I couldn't be that lucky. I sat on the edge of my bed, facing away from the door, breathing through cramp after cramp. I was timing them, but I got really scared once I got around six minutes apart. Then I got a feeling like I kinda needed to use the bathroom, but I didn't want to risk getting stuck in there if the little accident was closer than I thought.

Turns out it was. That subtle bathroom-y feeling was a pushy feeling trying to creep in. I tried to fight it as long as I could, burning up in my layered T-shirt and long sleeve I’d been wearing to try to hide my growing belly from my parents. The urge got worse, stronger, more urgent as time went on. Contractions getting closer and closer, it started to hurt to not push. I barely managed to stay quiet, keeping my breath as steady as possible, eyes closed tight as I began to give in against my will, my body pushing on its own even as I fought it.

I tried to make a new plan on the fly. It was clearly coming. I’d have it and try to climb out the window, leave it at a shelter like I originally planned. I just needed to stay calm, let it come as quietly as I could. Mom and Dad could NOT know I had gotten pregnant, ever. Let alone how it had happened. I couldn't imagine how they would react but I know it would be horrible.

Speaking of horrible, the pain and pressure was getting worse. I had started pushing without meaning to, and at this point gave up fighting my body. This was happening, here and now. Gripping my blanket and lifting my knees slightly, I let out the tiniest grunt, face scrunching with effort and toes curling. I could immediately feel an entire new sensation. Not just the intense pressure of a head just inside my vagina, but BURNING. My lips were spreading, I was starting to crown into my soaked panties.

This was really happening. I was having a baby for him and he didn't even know, didn't care… it hurt so bad, I couldn't stand thinking about him, having a normal dinner happy and just thinking about the rest later this week, his latest practice, he probably barely remembered what he'd done-

The door opened to my bedroom, and I jumped with shock. “Hey… I just wanted to check in on you. Are you ok, sweetie?” I took a breath,.steadied myself, very vividly aware of the straining teardrop of my most intimate place hidden inside my clothes. “Y-yea! I’m doing fine! Just… you know. Thinking about stuff.” I tried to smile, looking back over my shoulder.

God, I was so hot. I could feel the sweat running down my face, soaking into my shirt. My hair was a mess, sticking to me and itself. I looked like a disaster. I looked like some dumb girl giving birth to a baby she didn't want in her bedroom, hoping her parents wouldn't catch her. I was so stupid, how did I think I could get away with this?!

“You’re probably annoyed with us, huh? I keep telling your father that we shouldn't make you go to your room when our friends are over, but he just says you probably don't want to be around anyway…”

“It’s f-fine!” I managed, and I prayed she didn’t hear the raised pitch of my voice, the way my smile looked like grit teeth, my hands twisting in the sheets as my body started to push on its own again, another contraction squeezing me tight. “Really! I just have stuff going on, and… I g-get it. You guys are people too… and I… I really do get it!” Fuck… I could feel the head… it wasn't a teardrop anymore… it was a full crown… no… worse, it… it-!

I convulsed as a sudden burst of movement overwhelmed me. The entire head slipped free of me, making a huge bulge in my underwear and sweatpants. Oh god, if Mom looked around me just a tiny bit, she’d see the soaked fabric, the shape of a baby coming out of her daughter in shameful secret. I heard the patter of fluid hitting the carpet impossibly loudly. There’s no way Mom wouldn't catch me. My life was over. She would make me keep it and I would be the first girl with a kid in my class and for Him no less…

“I appreciate it, hon.” Mom said, a sigh in her voice. “I just don't want to miss you while we have you in our lives. You’ve grown up so fast. Some girls your age have kids already, can you believe it? But I know you’re smarter than to ever let anything like that happen to you.”

I wanted to scream, everything felt so wrong. “Yea! You taught me to be careful!” I managed to sneak out, back arching slightly, I HOPED subtly, as I pushed in front of her. It was coming out. Oh god the shoulders were so big… this was torture, they were bulging me so hard, my body was straining… I was giving birth!!!

“Well… your dad is probably worried about me. I just wanted to make sure you were ok. I worry about you, you know? I want you to know we care about you, we’re here for you. I love you.”

I couldn't stop pushing. I fought to keep the growl of effort out of my voice. “I love you too, mom.” I sounded hoarse, strained, but seemingly not too much. She closed the door and I heard her walk away.

Seconds after the couldn’t see me anymore, the inevitable happened. The shoulders slipped free, and the body slithered out of my most intimate place, filling my clothes as I sagged in exhaustion. “Oh god… oh god… I just gave birth…” I whisper-panted to myself, praying I could get away with this. I just wanted my normal life back.

[sweetiecutie]

AHHHH I NEED MORE KEEGAN IN MY LIFE PLEASE could you write some Keegan h/c?

Pairing: Keegan P Russ x fem! Reader

Warnings: just general stuff, language, bad driving, NSFW under the cut, mdni, spit kink

A/n: it’s not a lot, but it’s better than nothing😌 Keegan is such a bad bitch, he deserves more attention

• Starting off - I’m pretty sure that Keegan would want a civil partner; someone not related to military and actually as far as possible from all the war stuff. First of all, it’s to avoid having constant fear of losing you on the battlefield - it’s a highly dangerous job, sometimes coming out alive is not only a matter of skills, but also pure luck. Secondly, the amount of trauma and emotional damage Keegan carries is more than enough for two people - he needs someone grounded and, well, more stable, someone who will be able to give him a piece of blissful domestic life, faraway from all the constant war Keegan lives in.

• Always referring to you as his girl in conversations with other people or when introducing you to someone new. “That’s Y/n - my girl” “That’s for my girl, she likes pink” “My girl doesn’t like the smell of smoke so I’m trying to quit”. It’s also a way of showing everyone that you’re his - letting others know from the very beginning that you’re taken and no one better try anything with his precious girl, otherwise a few bones will be broken.

• Gives off annoying older brother vibes. He’ll always playfully nag you, and it’ll only become worse once you start dating. Placing stuff on the highest shelves just to watch you struggle to get it yourself, drawing some silly doodles on your notes, messing with your makeup that you spent nearly an hour organising neatly, punching your favourite plushie just to get a rise out of you. And of course, constant bickering! “Keegan, can you pass me that book?” - “Fuck no” *passes the book*. “Keegan, I want some sushi” - “Well shit, what am I supposed to do about that?” *already placing an order online on his phone*

• Another amazing driver here. Keegan has horrible road rage, hitting the car horn aggressively, yelling most intricate insults out the window at whoever that happened to piss him off. I also have a feeling the he drives really fast and reckless, teasing you whenever you ask him to go slower - so you better always buckle up. And yes, he definitely got in a few minor accidents - scratching or leaving indents on other car’s bumper.

NSFW here~*•.

• And while we’re speaking of driving - just imagine giving him a sloppy noisy head while being stuck in a long traffic. Keegan is seething with hot anger, rolling his eyes on other drivers, lack of nicotine adding to his distress. And here’s a sweet lovely you trying your best to make Keegan feel at least a tad bit better, soothing his booming annoyance with your silky tongue swirling around throbbing shaft, cheeks hollowing to provide stronger suction, allowing Keegan to set the pace. And it seemed to work wonders on him - his nape against the headrest of driver’s seat, pretty blue eyes half lidded, staring at the car ceiling, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard, feeling your throat wrapped around his cock.

• Oh, how nasty he is. Biggest spit kink ever - ordering to open your mouth nice and wide just to spit a thick globe of saliva in it, then closing your jaw and making sure that you swallow it. Will gladly let you spit in his mouth as well; loooves messy wet kisses - either during make out session or after you gave him head, slurping up your spit mixed with his cum from your lips and chin. Very often uses his spit as lube, or telling you to spit in his palm before spreading it all over his needy leaking cock, plunging it deep inside your warmth.

• A horndog. You never have to ask him if he’s in a right mood because yes, he is. He is always in the mood to fuck. Now, he always lets you know that it’s totally fine if you say no - Keegan will never pressure or guilt trap you into any kind of intimacy, no means no. You can always cuddle up together or do something fun like cooking, dancing or simply dorking around. But if your sexdrive happens to match his - oh boy, I’m sorry for your neighbours. Let’s just say - there’s hardly any surface in your flat that you didn’t fuck on.

• It’s nothing new, but this mug is cocky. Like, I don’t think he has unimaginably big dick - not small for sure, but not huge as well; but the way he works with it - a chef’s kiss. Keegan just knows how to angle his hips to massage that one spot within you, how you like your clit to be played with, how he quickly discovers and memorises all the sweetest spots of your body. “Aw, cumming already? I barely touched you, does it feel this good?” - he’d purr, curling three of his long fingers inside of your needy cunny, thumb flicking swollen clit while hot mouth sucks on perked up nipples.

• Daddy kink? Daddy kink😏

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Feedback is very important, give writers some love<3

[millyh23]

Selective Standards

Alessia Russo x Reader

word count:

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N walked into the changing room, expecting to find the usual post-training chaos—water bottles here, jerseys there, a few bits of kit scattered on the benches. But this was on another level. A mess of epic proportions.

Protein shake bottles lay on the floor, half-empty, with their lids off, spilling sticky liquid across the floor. An assortment of clothes, some still in training gear and others discarded in the middle of the room, was strewn about, creating an obstacle course. Half-open snack wrappers crinkled underfoot, and towels were abandoned haphazardly across the benches. It looked like someone had taken a whirlwind tour of the room and forgotten to clean up after themselves.

Y/N froze in the doorway, mouth agape.

“What the hell happened in here?” Y/N muttered, stepping into the chaos, surveying the damage. Her hands flew to her hips as she turned to face the team. “Who even leaves a place like this? This is so disrespectful. We’re a team, we’re supposed to take care of our space. Whoever made this mess should be reprimanded. They should pay a fine or be suspended for a game. This is ridiculous.”

The room fell silent. A few players exchanged awkward glances, and some even stifled small chuckles, glancing at each other. It wasn’t every day they saw Y/N go off like this. Normally cool-headed, Y/N’s frustration seemed to be bubbling over today.

Leah, who had just come out of the showers, raised an eyebrow, clearly amused but trying to hold back her laughter. “Y/N… I don’t think it’s that deep.”

“It’s that deep, Leah,” Y/N snapped, gesturing to the mess. “Look at this. It’s disrespectful to all of us. You know how hard we work. This—” She pointed to an empty water bottle rolling across the floor, “—this is a disaster.”

Katie, who was sitting on the bench nearby, grinned mischievously. “You know, you could always just pick it up yourself, right?”

“No,” Y/N huffed, her eyes scanning the room, clearly riled up. “Someone needs to be held accountable. This isn’t just a little accident. It’s a pattern of neglect.”

Just then, the door opened, and Alessia Russo walked in, her attention quickly drawn to the group as she noticed them all looking toward her. She hadn’t noticed the mess yet.

Y/N shot a pointed glance toward the protein shake bottle, still leaking a sticky mess onto the floor. “Whoever did this needs to clean it up—immediately. No exceptions.”

Leah couldn’t help but smile, taking a slow step toward Y/N. “Well, you might want to turn around, because—”

Before she could finish, Y/N’s voice rang out again, sharp and direct. “And I’m serious. If this happens again, I don’t care if it’s—”

“Uh, Y/N,” Leah interrupted, a grin tugging at her lips as she stepped to the side. “It’s Alessia’s mess.”

Y/N froze mid-sentence, her eyes wide. She turned slowly to see Alessia, who was now staring at the group, completely unaware of the mess she had left behind. Her eyes darted from teammate to teammate, catching their expressions. And then her gaze fell on the aftermath she’d left in her rush.

“Oh no,” Y/N muttered, her face turning bright red. She hadn’t even noticed that Alessia was the culprit when she was ranting. “I didn’t—uh… I didn’t realize it was—”

Katie raised an eyebrow, giving Y/N an amused look. “You sure? You were just about to have someone suspended for this.”

Y/N, caught in the moment, quickly tried to backtrack, her voice dropping an octave as she rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. “Well, I mean, we all get caught up in things, right? Just a little… oversight. Nothing major. It’s fine. Not a big deal. Right, Alessia?”

Alessia, who had been listening with an amused grin, walked over and casually tossed her gym bag on the bench. “Yeah, I was running late for media stuff,” she said with a shrug. “Guess I left a trail behind me. Sorry about that.”

Y/N, now visibly flustered, waved her hand dismissively, trying to cover up her earlier outburst. “No, no, it’s… it’s really not that serious. Just, maybe next time, a little more care when you’re in a rush? That’s all. Right, guys?” She forced a smile, but it was clear she was embarrassed.

Katie burst out laughing, slapping her hands on the bench. “Oh, you were so ready to fine someone for this mess, and now you’re backtracking?”

“I was just—” Y/N started, but she didn’t have the energy to continue. “I guess I got a little carried away. It’s Alessia. I’ll let it slide… just this once.”

Alessia, who had clearly caught the shift in Y/N’s tone, grinned and casually threw an arm around her shoulders. “It’s all good, babe. Thanks for being so understanding. I’ll do better next time.”

Y/N shot a playful glare at her, trying to regain her composure. “Just… don’t make me do a whole speech next time. I’ll have to give you a fine or something.”

The entire team erupted into laughter as Y/N’s serious demeanor quickly crumbled into a sheepish smile. Alessia leaned in close, still grinning. “You’re the best, Y/N. Maybe I’ll get you to help me clean up next time?”

“Yeah, sure,” Y/N muttered with a roll of her eyes, “I’ll bring the fine book.”

And with that, the room returned to its usual chaos—but this time, everyone was a little lighter, the tension having dissolved in a fit of laughter.

---

The team was starting to form more bad habits. Every day, without fail, more and more players were coming late to training. It wasn’t anything too serious at first—just a few minutes here and there—but Y/N, always one to stick to the rules and maintain discipline, was getting fed up.

It had been the third day in a row that several players were running through the gates minutes after the scheduled start time. She couldn’t take it anymore.

“Alright, that’s it,” Y/N muttered to herself, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as the last player jogged onto the field. “Enough is enough.”

She marched up to the front, her voice firm and clear as she addressed the entire team. “I’m done with this. We’re all professionals here, and we can’t keep letting people stroll in whenever they feel like it. From now on, anyone who’s late will be fined. A minute late? A minute’s fine. You’re five minutes late? Five minutes’ worth of fines.”

The room went silent, the rest of the players exchanging nervous glances. They knew Y/N wasn’t messing around.

Katie, ever the troublemaker, leaned in and whispered to Leah, “She’s not serious, is she?”

“Oh, she’s dead serious,” Leah replied, eyes widening as she watched Y/N cross her arms and glare at the group. “You’ve seen her like this before.”

Y/N’s eyes scanned the room, locking onto the players who had been late. “This isn’t school, people. You all know better. You’re adults. You can show up on time. It’s disrespectful to your teammates, and we need to take this seriously.” She turned to face a particularly late-looking Kyra. “Five minutes late today. That’s a fiver.”

Kyra rolled her eyes but said nothing, too tired of the back-and-forth to argue. Y/N then turned her eyes to the next culprit, Alessia, who had just jogged in, breathless from her sprint to the field.

“Alessia, you’re late again!” Y/N snapped, hands on her hips, but before Alessia could even start to apologize, Y/N’s tone softened. “No, no. It’s okay. It’s not your fault. It’s just—training was probably a little too early for you today. I’ll take care of the fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Alessia blinked, surprised by the sudden change in tone. “Really? You’ll take care of it?”

“Of course,” Y/N replied, shaking her head, her voice calming. “You don’t need the added stress. We’ll make sure your fine is covered. You can count on me.”

Y/N then glared back at the others. “But for everyone else? You’d better pay up. You’ve all been warned.”

Leah gave her a pointed look as Y/N turned her attention to the rest of the group. “If anyone else is late, there’s no excuse. I mean it. We’re not running a daycare here.”

The session went on, but Y/N couldn’t help but notice how the other players seemed to keep a little distance from her. They knew Y/N meant business, and with her new fine system, she wasn’t about to let anyone get away with being tardy.

The next few days passed, and the fines kept racking up. By the end of the week, Y/N had nearly filled a small notebook with the fines from late arrivals, most of which had come from the usual suspects: Katie, Beth, and a few others who just didn’t seem to care. But when Alessia was late yet again, Y/N was quick to brush it off.

“Alessia, don’t stress. I’ve got this,” she’d say, her voice soft and reassuring, even as she filled in the fine for her late arrival.

The others watched this dynamic unfold. The fines were getting hefty—very hefty—but every time Alessia was late, Y/N would simply wave it off and mutter that it was okay. They all found it strange, but there was something about the way Y/N spoke to Alessia that made her seem… untouchable, in a way.

By the end of the month, Y/N had paid off all of Alessia’s fines, covering the hundreds of euros in late fees. Every time she brought it up, Alessia would try to refuse.

“You really don’t need to do that, Y/N,” Alessia said, a hint of guilt in her voice.

“I’ve got it covered,” Y/N replied with a smile, brushing off Alessia’s concern. “It’s not a big deal.”

But even as she said it, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder why she was doing it. Why did she always soften when it came to Alessia? Why was she willing to put up with the fines when everyone else had to pay up without a second thought?

One evening, as they sat together after training, Y/N gave Alessia a sideways glance. “You know, if you just stopped being late, I wouldn’t have to pay these fines for you.”

Alessia looked at her with a half-smirk. “Maybe I’m just testing how far you’ll go.”

Y/N chuckled softly, rolling her eyes. “Well, consider this the last time, okay? I’m not made of money, and I’m not paying your fines forever.”

Alessia laughed, leaning in close. “I know. But I appreciate it, Y/N. More than you know.”

Y/N just smiled, knowing full well that no matter how many fines Alessia racked up, she’d always be the one to take care of it. She didn’t mind. Not when it was Alessia.

It was one of those days where the team was a little too playful for their own good, and Katie had a mischievous gleam in her eye. She leaned in towards Alessia, a sly grin creeping across her face as she whispered her idea.

“Why don't you come in an hour late to training? You know, just to test if Y/N will actually follow through with paying your fine,” Katie suggested, practically vibrating with excitement.

Alessia raised an eyebrow. “Are you serious? You really think she’d pay a £200 fine?”

Katie’s grin only grew wider. “Y/N loves you. She’s a softie for you, trust me. She’ll pay without batting an eye.”

Alessia hesitated, but then the thought of seeing how far Y/N would go for her made her heart flutter. “Alright, fine. But if she gets mad, I’m blaming you.”

Katie winked. “Deal.”

The next day, as the team finished their warm-ups and got into their drills, Alessia sneaked in, only to join the sprints, breathless and looking sheepish as she entered the pitch.

Y/N, who had been keeping track of everyone’s arrival times as usual, immediately shot her a glare. “Alessia, you’re late,” she said, arms crossed and voice stern.

The team watched with baited breath, knowing full well that this was going to be interesting. Y/N pulled out her notebook, jotting down the fine.

“1 hour late, that’s £200,” she said, her voice sharp as she turned to the rest of the team. “You all know the rules. Late is late.”

Alessia bit her lip, trying to keep a straight face as she watched Y/N turn back to her, ready to pay the fine. Without a single word of complaint, Y/N pulled out her wallet, counted out the money, and handed it to the coach.

“Here you go,” Y/N said, her voice oddly calm.

Katie couldn’t contain her smirk. “Wow, I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

Y/N barely even looked at Katie. She turned back to Alessia, her face softening. “You don’t need to worry about this,” she said gently. “It’s not your fault. I’ll take care of it.”

Without thinking, Y/N reached forward and cupped Alessia’s cheek, leaning in for a kiss, soft and sweet, making the rest of the team collectively roll their eyes. When they pulled apart, Y/N smiled, her eyes full of affection.

The rest of the team, including Leah, watched in stunned silence, unsure of what to say. Katie, trying to keep a straight face, let out a dramatic gasp. “I can’t believe you actually paid it, Y/N! You’re such a sucker.”

Leah, smirking, chimed in, “Looks like Alessia’s got you wrapped around her finger.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a soft chuckle. “I’m not a sucker. I’m just making sure my girlfriend isn't stressed over something silly like fines.”

Katie raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?"

Alessia leaned in, trying to hide the smile tugging at her lips. “You really didn’t have to do that, you know. I was just testing you…”

Y/N turned to the group, suddenly serious. “You shouldn’t have pressured poor Alessia into that,” she said, her voice taking on a more reprimanding tone. “If you all have issues, you come to me. We don’t put her in situations like that. You’ve all got to start acting your age. We’re supposed to be grown, not schoolkids that mess with each other for fun.”

The rest of the team exchanged glances, bored for Y/N's thousandth lecture, and nodded in acknowledgment.

Leah nudged Katie, both of them smirking. “I think Y/N’s getting soft,” Leah teased. “Guess the only one who can make her pay £2000 without a fight is Alessia.”

Katie laughed. “I’m just amazed. She didn’t even hesitate! It’s like she has a weakness for her. She's like kryptonite”

Y/N gave them a mock glare, but her voice had a playful edge. “Alright, alright, I get it. You two are clearly jealous because I didn’t pay your fines.”

Katie threw her hands up in defeat. “I mean, I would have asked, but I’m pretty sure you’re whipped for Alessia.”

Leah chuckled. “I think she just wants to see if she can get away with being that spoiled.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, turning back to Alessia, who was clearly enjoying the teasing. She gave her a smile, though. “You’re lucky you’re cute. And you know I’d do anything for you.”

Alessia grinned, her heart swelling with affection. “I know. I won’t make a habit of it. I swear.”

Y/N chuckled softly, her protective nature not fully letting go, but a warmth in her chest that reminded her just how much she cared for Alessia.

The rest of the team couldn’t help but laugh at the playful dynamic between the two, and even though they were teasing Y/N, there was a sense of warmth in the air. It was clear they were a team in more ways than one. Even if some of them had to be teased a little for their soft moments, they all knew Y/N had their backs—just as much as she had Alessia’s.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The End

[devilstruly]

Hey so how do you think Jason Todd and Dick grayson would deal with their love who’s a ray of sunshine (not hyper. More like has an innocence about them where they’re just experiencing life for the first time. They just get happy over the little things in life: Like their dress has pockets or they see a stray cat or dog down an alley and they’ve left their boyfriend side to say hi to it and give it some food they somehow always have hiding in their clothes. Even tight fitted dressed).. and living a pretty good life s/o finding out the men’s secret identity and the men are like “are you sure you’re ok with this?” Or Jason’s like “I got a lot of baggage”. And s/o’s very calm and not their usual ray of sunshine self “ This is a lot better than other stuff I’ve been through in the past. I’m good with it”. Or to Jason “what? You think you’re the only one with baggage?” The men didn’t know this, but s/o grew up in the roughest part of gotham in a poor family? So they’ve seen a lot of bad things and bad things have happened to them? They’re ok with their bf doing vigilante work cuz if vigilantes were around more often back then, bad stuff that happened to s/o probably wouldn’t of happened. Also let him know that, “if you get injured, you can always come to me to help you”?

hi omg !! thanks sm for the ask <3 now i've never written the sunshine trope myself but i'll try my best here

i think when it comes to dick grayson he would go about revealing his identity very carefully and very thoughtfully, lest he scares you off. mans has probably been stressing about it for weeks. but when he finally drops the bomb and you're just there, all nonchalant, he's utterly confused. nightwing.exe has stopped working.

'w-what do you mean okay? that's it?!'

'i've seen worse. you're good.'

'WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?'

cue a lot of questions. you're in for a long night.

now with jason todd it happens as an accident. he was planning to tell you who he was. obviously. at some point of course. not now, while he's sneaking back into his apartment after patrol to find you sitting on his couch watching a movie. his first issue is why you aren't fazed by fucking Red Hood sneaking into your boyfriend's apartment. he's kinda concerned if he's being honest.

'uh- okay, might as well get this over with.' he sighs, taking his helmet off and bracing himself for you to either yell or just get up and leave.

but you don't, instead your eyes rake over his form, noticing the deep cut on his side.

'that needs stitches.'

redhood.exe has stopped working. 'wh- huh?!?'

'sit down, i'll be right back.' you get up from the couch and gesture for him to take your place while you go grab the first-aid kit you know he keeps in the bathroom.

while you're stitching him up and he's still trying to grasp what the actual fuck is going on he uses the opportunity to distract himself from the pain by talking. you talk a little about your background but it's mainly just him trying to make sure you know how fucked up he is and that he's bad for you and a killer, yada yada yada.

'you've told me all of that before, jay. i'm not going anywhere.'

his heart swells, but he refuses to cry in this state so he deflects like usual.

'how the fuck do you know how to stitch a wound?'