#It's like saying “hey LOOK. HERE. L”

[gingergari]

told ya another was upcoming 🔥

closeups + headcanon version under the cut!

[cultivating-wildflowers]

I have decided to start this crochet project over for the fourth time.

[brainrotzora]

recent ffxiv livetweeting. spoilers through the end of arr patch quests btw.

[luveline]

𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Spencer gets a bad bout of amnesia. Or, your boyfriend forgets he’s your boyfriend, but he still has a crush on you. [3k]

c: fem, bombshell!reader, head injury, hospitals, amnesia, fluff, spencer can’t believe he bagged you, requested here 

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆

Spencer wakes to an empty room. 

He lays on a pillow too flat, neck twinging, the back of his eyes throbbing when he moves.

He struggles to breathe through his nose and lets his mouth open for a few achy breaths, his mouth dry like he’s been sucking on cotton balls. 

Spencer’s alarmed, without a clue what it is he’s done. He wonders where Gideon is, if the older man has come to see him yet. He hopes somebody told his mom he’s okay. 

Maybe Hotch will come. He and Hotch have grown closer while Gideon was on his mandated recovery time; Gideon spends far less time in the office, sticking to lectures, seminars and consults, while Hotch, Morgan and Spencer handle the away cases. Spencer might go as far as to say Hotch likes him. And Morgan can tolerate him now, less grudging when Spencer offers a random fact or statistic to further the case. 

A stab of pain at the back of his head makes itself known sharply.

Spencer doesn’t want to move, but he needs to assess things. He frowns at his arms, naked as they are. His silver watch is missing. A t-shirt that he doesn’t remember buying stretches over his chest. What state are they in, and who dressed him? 

He’s scowling at the window with it’s wide-open blinds and all the sun when the door opens. 

You’re looking at the bags on your arm as you come in. Spencer startles in his blankets —what are you doing here? Agent L/N, Morgan’s friend and a candidate for the open position on the BAU team. You’re from the Sex Crimes Unit, like Greenaway. 

Spencer flusters every time he sees you, not just because of how kind you’d been the first time you met, or even the easy flirtation you send his way when you cross paths. It’s because you’re the prettiest woman he’s ever seen. He’s not talking about the golden ratio or statistical beauty, you’re just stunning. You stop him in his tracks whenever you steal into the office. It’s better when you notice he’s awake and light up like he’s the winning numbers for tonight’s lottery pull. Everything about you illuminates. 

“Hey, babe!” you say, not not yelling as you drop your bags in the seat by the bed and reach for him.

He doesn’t think to move away as you take his face into your hands.

“I’m so glad you’re finally awake, you almost slept for the full twenty four hours.” Your hands are soft. They smell like neroli. When you stroke his cheek and lean down to give him a chaste peck, he almost passes out there and then. “It's a good thing, obviously,” you say, and then kiss him again distractedly. Spencer squeezes his eyes closed. “You heal more when you’re asleep. Or so I’ve heard.” 

You pull away, Spencer blinking for his life. You have such a nice mouth, but Spencer’s never thought about what it might feel like on his. He doesn’t have the audacity: in what world would you ever kiss him? That’s the joke, right, when you flirt with him in the office?

“How are you feeling?” you ask, losing some of your pep. “How’s your head, handsome? You know, there are easier ways to get a haircut.” 

“They cut my hair?” he croaks. 

“Shaved it at the back to stitch you up. Not much, don’t worry. They were pushing for a buzz cut but I put my foot down on that one,” you joke. You nudge his legs aside without worrying about sitting on him as you get comfortable. “It’s not much. You can’t tell.”

“I…” 

“You feeling okay?” you ask softly. Your nice mouth purses. Your eyebrows pinch. They’re cute eyebrows. 

“You look different than the last time I saw you.” 

He doesn’t mean to say it aloud. He’s noticing things now. You’re wearing less powder under your eyes than you used to. You seem to have gained a little weight, and you look good. You didn’t look bad before, but this is different. Your hair isn’t too different, nor your brows, but you’ve begun lining your lips in a new way. Your blush is a subtler hue. Spencer doesn’t claim to know everything about you, but he can say that you look neatly the same each time you visit. Why the sudden change?

“It’s hard to sleep when your favourite person in the world gets his head cut open,” you say, taking his hand where he’d left it loose in the blankets. 

Your fingers slip into his with ease. 

“Can I tell you something?” he asks, attempting to swallow his nerves. 

“Of course you can.” 

He licks his lips. “Uh, I think I’m confused. I don’t– I don’t remember what happened, and…” 

“Oh, right. They told me this might happen.” You draw yourself up with a breath. He’s fascinated by the movement, an air of heat around him as you begin rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb. “You got hit in the back of the head with a cinder block, honey. Went down like a lead balloon.” You turn your face to show your cheek. “We’re even now on good scares, yeah?” 

You have a scar on your face he’d missed, carefully concealed but yet not invisible. Your hand in his feels so alien he holds it wrong, fingers twined but palms apart. 

“What happened to you?” he asks. 

Your brow crinkles. You go very still. “My cheek?” you ask. 

“What…” 

“Spencer, what’s the last thing you can remember, honey?” you ask, all the horror in the world to be found in your eyes. 

“Uh…” He feels sick to his stomach.

“Spencer?” 

Without having to be told, you slip off of the bed with two taps of your shoes and reach for the bedpan, thrusting it into his lap. 

His mouth fills with spit. “I’m fine,” he says. 

“No, I don’t think so. Let me get a doctor.” 

“Wait,” he says, clutching the bedpan and pushing his wave of nausea as far down as he can. “Please don’t go.” 

“My face was months ago, honey. I got hit in the face with a hammer by a UnSub, you don’t remember?” you ask incredulously. 

“Why do you keep calling me honey?” he asks. He knows the answer, but it’s not computing. 

Your face drains of any happiness. “I’m going to get a doctor,” you say, shoulders rigidly tight as you exit the room, leaving Spencer in your wake wishing he’d just pretended he knew who you were, just until you kissed him again. 

—

“And he really can’t remember you at all?” Morgan asks. 

You’re a little less startled than you had been, and you’re trying not to punish poor Spencer, but realising your boyfriend forgot years of flirting, and yearning, and friendship —years of kissing in secret and otherwise, years of holding hands, and staying at each other’s places to get that extra time together, even if it was just getting to sleep in the same bed between cases— was a slap. 

“He remembers me,” you say, leg crossed over the other, arm over the railing of Spencer’s bed to hold his hand. “He just doesn’t remember a thing after Gideon came back, after Boston.” 

“I remember when you had hair,” Spencer says to Derek. 

Derek glares at him, “This Spencer doesn’t get to sass me.” 

“But I do eventually?” 

“How come you’re holding hands if he doesn’t know who you are?” Derek asks pointedly. 

You shrug. “We talked about it, didn’t we?” you ask Spencer, who perks up every time you talk, which isn’t unlike your usual Spencer. Whenever he catches himself doing it he flusters. Every time you call him baby he loses his mind. “He doesn’t remember me, but he wants to. And I remember him.” 

“This must be pretty weird for you, kid,” Derek says. 

“Sort of,” Spencer says. 

It’s funny. Now you know Spencer thinks he’s twenty three again, you can’t not notice his shyness and his awkward tries at casualness. You’d forgotten what he was like back then. 

“Wait, does that mean you don’t remember Emily?” Derek asks. 

Spencer frowns. “Uh, no?” 

You sit up in your chair. “Emily’s one of your best friends, honey. She joined the BAU when Greenaway left.”

“Not you?” he asks. 

You dramatise your pain as Derek laughs. “Not me. I didn’t transfer for a long time, unfairly. It’s okay, though, you’ll remember Emily eventually.” 

When you realised Spencer wasn’t as okay as you’d thought, you gathered a gaggle of agitated doctors to assess him. He knew his name and birthday. He was wrong about the date, the president, and the state. You’re in Arizona where he’d thought Indiana. Your bag talks to the heat: Spencer’s fan, his sunblock, his antihistamines. He couldn’t believe it when he asked where his stuff was and you passed him your handbag. 

You’re trying to drive home to him that you’re not just dating, you're common-law partners, Spence. He adores you. You’d spend life in his lap if you could afford it. 

“How’d she get you to believe her?” Derek asks Spencer. 

“Uh.” 

“I kissed him a couple of times before he came clean about the amnesia,” you say. “So I didn’t have to explain.” 

“I didn’t mean to lie,” Spencer says. 

He’s looking less haggard now you’ve brushed his hair. It was sweet to watch his shoulders relax. He shuddered when you tucked a strand behind his ears, and didn’t flinch when you asked if you could kiss his cheek. It’s hard to have him vulnerable here and not be allowed to lick his wounds for him. You feel better the better he feels. You’ve fluffed his pillow, wrapped him tighter in blankets. When he got up to pee and you offered to help, he gave a resolute No Thank You, which in hindsight is hilarious but at the time made you wanna squeeze your eyes out. 

“It’s okay,” you say softly, “I don’t mind kissing him, even if he doesn’t remember me. Just so long as he doesn’t mind it back.”

Spencer manages to squeeze your hand. It’s a soft one, but it’s real. “I don’t mind.” 

“You dog,” Derek says. 

“Stop, stop. He’s not doing anything wrong, is he?” you ask. “I’m the evil one, forcing kisses on him when he doesn’t know me.” 

“I do know you,” Spencer says. 

“What’s it like to have a crush on your own girlfriend?” Derek asks, unwilling to quit his teasing where he’s crossing his arms in the chair opposite, his cup of coffee drained on the side table. 

Spencer swallows. “Uh, nerve-wracking.” 

“Believe it or not, that’s not so different to now,” Derek says. 

Spencer looks to you for confirmation, which you love. You slide your chair closer to him and clasp his wrist with your free hand. “Sometimes you're still a little shy, but it’s not so bad. Full of myself I may be, Spencer Reid, but you do love me. It’s easy with us.” 

“Do we really live together?” he asks. “You said common-law.” 

“Not technically. I stay at your place four nights a week. You stay with me for the weekends.” 

“Every week?” he asks.

“Yeah.” 

��We’re never apart?” he asks. 

His face is turning pink. You could kiss every bit of colour on his cheeks. 

“Derek, would you get Spencer something to eat from the cafeteria? Please?” you ask, levelling your friend with a pleading gaze. 

Derek gathers himself up. “Sure. We gotta feed the string bean something, don’t we?” he asks. 

Alone again, you draw lines up and down Spencer’s arm with your nails. You’re going to be indulgent in yourself, and ask him everything you’d ever wanted to know. And then a little extra, too. 

“You’re not as skinny anymore, have you noticed? You’re quite lean.” You stand to sit where you’d put yourself before he confessed. Your hand falls to his knee. “Solid, sometimes. You and Derek go for walks occasionally.” 

“We do?” 

“Mm-hm. And me and you do yoga in the living room when we can summon the energy. We tried couples Pilates, but Pilates is hard.” 

“We did?”

You smile warmly. “It’s nice to be in love with someone who loves in the same way.” 

“How do you love?” 

His ears are bitten-red. “Oh, you know. I’m too affectionate. It’s hard not to be with you. Everyone used to think we were… I don’t know, playing a game.” You slide your hand up his thigh, leaning on him to watch his pupils blow. “But I love you for far more than your constant propensity to blush. You get me flowers every time you see my favourites, and you never let me go to sleep without a kiss. Usually here.” You poke the skin beside your eye. “But sometimes you’ll surprise me and kiss my nose.” You're going lax with love, remembering things he’s done, and does every day.  “On a Saturday morning we make tea and I put my hands in your t-shirt. You do the crosswords for fun. Sometimes we time them.” 

“That’s not how you love, that’s what you love,” Spencer says. 

“Oh, you want a play by play of things?” He ducks his chin, but he smiles when you laugh. 

“I just can’t believe this is happening.”

You try to think of things you don’t think about anymore. “You love my sugar lip gloss, so I always wear it.” 

He reaches out tentatively. Shy as a wren in a hedgerow. You let him curl a hand over your elbow, feel the crook of it with his index finger. 

“I buy you stamps, and t-shirts for bed, and stupid stuff you wouldn’t get yourself. We’re… it’s like, it doesn’t feel like gift giving anymore because we’re always getting stuff for each other. You’re just as sweet, you know? When I first started sleeping over you bought me this huge pack of socks ‘cos yours are all odd,” you laugh. “I knew I loved you already, but…”

It’s a little sad, actually. He can’t remember all the stuff that makes you the couple you are. It’s not what you’d meant to get into. 

“Can I ask you something?” you ask. 

“Anything.” 

He’s slept-in and breathless, like he ran laps in his dreams. 

“What do you think of me now? I always wondered if you liked me back then, or if I just caught you off guard.” 

“Who wouldn’t like you?” 

“But did you?” 

He looks away hurriedly, his hand dropping from your elbow. “I guess so. But it’s not– not real. I have a crush on you.” His mumbling is sweet. “I have no idea why I’m telling you that.” 

“I had a crush on you, too, back then. It wasn’t anything serious, but it wasn’t a joke. And the more time we spent together, the more I thought we could fall in love,” —you take his hand and put it back on your arm— “and we did.” 

You toy with his fingers. Without looking, ashamed of your own self-indulgence, you ask another question. “What do you think of me now?” 

“I can’t remember,” he says sorrily. 

“What do you think?” 

“You feel like a dream.” He shakes his head. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. I don’t really get how this is real.” 

You shouldn’t be surprised that he’d say it, you practically begged for it, but you can’t stop yourself from sitting up to kiss his forehead gently. “It’s real. Promise. And for the record, you’re handsome. They stopped saying ‘aged like fine wine’ a while ago. Now they just say ‘aged like Spencer Reid’.”

He gives a choky laugh. 

The door opens again. You lift your head expecting Derek and find a weather worm Hotch in the doorway. “Reid, you’re awake,” he says, not bothering with a smile. “Morgan said you have amnesia?” He directs it at both of you. 

Spencer’s looking at Hotch in clear shock. 

“He hasn’t aged that badly,” you chastise teasingly. 

“Hotch, you’re– I thought you would’ve– You’re still–?”

Hotch squints. “You didn’t think I had the stamina for it?” 

Spencer squirms under his gaze. “No, sir, it’s not that–”

“Sir,” Hotch says, and then he smiles. “I forgot when you both used to respect me.” 

“I have the utmost respect for you, sir,” you say through your own smile. 

“Has she been kind to you, Reid?” 

“Uh, yes? Is she not usually?” 

Hotch presses his lips together rather than answer. There’s a sympathy in his expression you resent.

—

It’s a thankfully quick bout of amnesia. The memories start to draw in like a dusting of powdered sugar, his head finely silted, one particle at a time. He finds that the more you talk, the quicker his memory is jogged. You tell him about your first kiss —I tried to kiss your cheek but you moved, it was the funniest thing— and your second. You spin stories of cases, the worst ones and the best, all the times you held hands without people knowing, the times you’d been caught. He can’t imagine it, goes hot with the memory, picturing kissing you as you’d described and the mortification of being walked in on. 

You tell him about your vacation to Nevada a few months ago and he thinks about how you’d fallen asleep on the plane. Your nose in his arm, your unhappy sigh at the tight leg space. 

Remembering you is more than half of remembering himself.

Your hands —his hands. Your smile —his laugh. The way you fold his hands in your lap —the urge to catch your chin for a kiss. 

He doesn’t know how to deal with it, and then suddenly he feels like Spencer. Your partner, your love, his proudest title for years. You’re standing at the end of the hospital bed in pajamas folding your clothes, allowed to stay the night while he’s so urgently confused and upset, you can’t make him stay here alone, please, I know you guys have those little cots for the kids ward, and he just knows you completely. 

Hours of diligent if embezzled storytelling gives it all back to him. 

“I like the lipgloss because you used to wear that perfume that smelled like sugar donuts,” he says, scratching a hand through limp hair. “And every time I crossed the square by the station–”

You let out a surprising squeal of joy. “Spencer!” you say, racing to take his hands, “Yes! The donut truck!” 

You go in for a kiss he gladly returns. “Oh, you remember,” you say, softening as he takes your neck into his hand. “I was getting worried.” 

“Some of it’s still hazy, but not so much you.” 

You wrap your arms around him for a hug, careful of his sore head. “I missed you, Spencer. I still loved you when you couldn’t remember me, but I missed you. Do you remember you?” 

He traces the scar on your lower cheek with his thumb. He’s genuinely relieved to be able to say he does. He’s not scared of what you think of him anymore, ‘cos he knows that everything he feels for you is mutual. “I remember you telling me my bad feeling was just a case of the heebies.” 

You bend into his touch. “Honey, I’m sorry. How was I supposed to know you’d get your skull whacked with a cinder block? It was a bakery. I thought the worst that could happen was getting a face full of red velvet or something.” You kiss his nose quickly. “I’m so glad you’re you. Now I can sleep in the bed with you, and not that collapsible camping cot.” 

He shushes you. “Don’t give us away. They’re not gonna let you stay if they think I’m fine.” 

You giggle excitedly, arms around him again for another squeeze. “I missed you so much. You’re so devious now.” 

He rubs your back. “I missed you too. And I still have a crush on you, I swear.”

“Thank you, honey, that means a lot to me.” 

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thanks for reading!

[solxamber]

Pick Us!

In which you have to choose a club and it looks like everyone wants a piece of you.

Part 2 (Choosing a club)

You were minding your own business, dodging Grim's increasingly creative ways to get you to buy premium tuna, when Crowley swept in with his usual dramatic flair.

“Ah, my dear pupil!” he exclaimed, arms wide like a bad community theater actor. “To better immerse yourself in school life, you must join a club. It’s mandatory!”

Before you could protest or ask any clarifying questions, he disappeared in a swirl of his cape, leaving you standing there with nothing but Grim’s unsympathetic shrug.

Naturally, this information traveled faster than you could process it, because the next thing you knew, Ace was practically dragging you by the arm across campus.

The Basketball Club

“Alright, listen,” Ace began, spinning a basketball on one finger and grinning like he just invented the sport. “You’re obviously joining the basketball club. It’s the best. I’m here, Floyd’s here, and even Jamil’s here, so really, it’s a no-brainer.”

“Is that supposed to sell it?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“Uh, yeah!” he said, tossing the ball toward you. It immediately bounced off your hands and hit the floor. Ace, undeterred, caught it mid-bounce and gave you a wink. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you. I’m, like, super good at this. Just ask him!”

From across the gym, some poor guy—bless his heart—tried to nod in support, but you caught the nervous look he shot Ace instead.

“Okay, sure,” you said, “but isn’t this just an excuse for you to show off?”

“Maybe,” Ace said with zero shame, dribbling the ball dramatically before attempting a layup. The ball bounced off the rim and into Floyd’s waiting hands.

“Shrimpy!” Floyd called, tossing the ball behind his head without looking (and still somehow making the shot). “Join the club. It’ll be fuuuuun.”

You hesitated, because with Floyd, “fun” could mean literally anything. “Define fun,” you said cautiously.

“Simple! You, me, and Ace crushing people in games!” Floyd grinned, leaning closer to you. “And if anyone tries to mess with you, I’ll squish ‘em.”

Ace groaned. “Floyd, you can’t just threaten people into joining.”

“Why not?” Floyd asked, genuinely puzzled.

“Because it’s weird!”

“No, it’s effective,” Floyd countered, shooting you another toothy grin. “C’mon, Shrimpy, you’re already here. I’ll even let you call the plays. Or, you know, not. Whatever.”

“...You’re just bored, aren’t you?”

“Obviously,” Floyd admitted, leaning lazily against the wall. “But hey, if you join, I won’t let Ace hog the ball. Win-win, right?”

And then there was Jamil, who had been sitting silently on the sidelines, observing the chaos with his usual exasperated expression.

“Are they done?” he asked, finally standing and walking over to you.

“I don’t think so,” you replied, watching as Floyd tried to steal the ball from Ace mid-dribble.

Jamil sighed. “Typical.” He glanced at you, his tone cool and measured. “Ignore them. They’re just trying to drag you into their antics.”

“Antics?” Floyd repeated, offended.

“Yeah, Jamil,” Ace added, narrowing his eyes. “What’re you implying?”

“I’m implying you’re both terrible at convincing people,” Jamil said smoothly. He turned back to you. “If you’re interested in joining the club, you’ll actually get something out of it. Physical exercise, teamwork, strategy. And if you stick around, I’ll make sure you’re not stuck with them during practice.”

“Hey!” Ace protested.

Floyd just laughed. “Jamil’s still salty about the last scrimmage.”

“Hardly,” Jamil said, arching an eyebrow. “I’m just pointing out that if you want to learn how to actually play, you’d be better off with me.”

You blinked. “Are you… offering to train me?”

He shrugged, but there was a faint smirk on his face. “If it means saving you from their nonsense, yes.”

All you can do is sigh and say "I'll think about it"

Track and Field Club

You barely made it out of the basketball club’s gym alive when Deuce grabbed your wrist like his life depended on it. His expression was that unique combination of earnest and panicked—classic Deuce.

“Wait, don’t decide yet!” he said, already dragging you down the corridor. “You haven’t even seen the track and field club! You might like it better!”

“Deuce,” you began, trying to keep up without tripping. “I haven’t even—”

“Just come on!”

Before you knew it, you were standing on the edge of the outdoor track, blinking in the sunlight as Deuce shoved you forward like he was presenting a prize to a panel of judges. Jack, in the middle of sprint drills, stopped mid-stride to look over at you. His tail flicked once, and he jogged over with that intimidating mix of focus and curiosity he always had.

“You’re trying to recruit them?” Jack asked, crossing his arms.

Deuce nodded, puffing out his chest like he was making the ultimate sales pitch. “Yeah! Track and field’s way better than basketball. No offense to those guys.”

“I take offense,” you muttered, but neither of them heard.

“Plus,” Deuce continued, “we’ve got variety. Running, jumping, throwing—you can do anything. It’s not just bouncing a ball around, you know?”

Jack nodded in agreement. “It’s good for discipline. Builds strength, endurance, and focus. If you want to improve yourself, this is the place to do it.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, glancing at the track. “And what if I… don’t exactly have focus?”

“That’s fine!” Deuce said, grinning brightly. “We’ll help you! Right, Jack?”

Jack nodded. “Of course. We’ll start with basic drills.” He gave you a once-over, sizing you up. “How’s your stamina?”

“Define… stamina,” you said cautiously, because you had a feeling your answer wasn’t going to impress him.

Jack’s ears twitched, and he leaned slightly closer. “How far can you run without stopping?”

“Uh,” you began, nervously shifting your weight. “To the fridge?”

Jack blinked. “...You’re joking, right?”

Deuce coughed loudly, clapping a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about that! Everyone starts somewhere, right? Besides, they’re here because they want to try something new.”

You stared at Deuce. “I don’t remember saying that.”

“Exactly!” he continued, ignoring you entirely. “Think of how awesome it’d be to have us training you! We’ll get you in the best shape of your life. Right, Jack?”

Jack, who was still mildly horrified by your fridge comment, hesitated. “...Sure.”

Deuce, now fully in salesman mode, gestured to the track like it was some sort of holy land. “And you don’t have to worry about teamwork stuff! You can focus on your personal goals and—”

“Unless you’re in a relay,” Jack interjected.

“Right, but relays are cool!” Deuce added quickly. “Like… team spirit, you know?”

You glanced between the two of them, taking in Jack’s intensity and Deuce’s enthusiasm. They were both staring at you with a mix of hope and determination, and honestly, it was kind of endearing.

“Okay,” you said slowly. “If I join, do I get to skip the first practice?”

“No,” Jack said immediately.

Deuce grinned sheepishly. “But we’ll go easy on you!”

“Jack doesn’t look like he believes that.”

Jack tilted his head, his tail swishing once. “You’ll thank me later.”

“I’m not sure I’ll survive later,” you muttered.

Deuce ignored that, clapping his hands together. “Great! I knew you’d love it here! C’mon, let’s give them a quick demo, Jack!”

Before you could protest, the two of them took off around the track, moving at speeds that made you feel dizzy just watching. Deuce kept glancing back to grin at you, while Jack stayed focused, every stride perfect.

You stood there, bewildered and vaguely impressed, wondering if joining any club was a good idea at all. Still, as Deuce stumbled back toward you, sweaty but grinning like a puppy who just fetched a stick, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Think about it, okay?” he said, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. “We’d love to have you here.”

Jack jogged up beside him, barely winded. “You’ll fit in if you put in the effort.”

“Yeah,” Deuce agreed, nodding earnestly. “So… what do you think?”

You hesitated, glancing at the track, then at them. “…I’ll get back to you.”

Deuce grinned like that was a victory, and Jack just nodded approvingly. As they walked back to their drills, you realized you had yet another club to consider—and these two weren’t going to make it any easier.

Board Game Club

Before you could make your escape—or even fully process the events of the day—your wrist was suddenly seized by Ortho, who zoomed in out of nowhere like a missile with a purpose.

“There you are!” Ortho exclaimed with unsettling cheer. His grip was surprisingly firm for someone who probably didn’t even need to touch you to move you. “Big Brother’s been waiting! Come on!”

“Wait—what? Ortho, where are we—”

“No time for questions!” And just like that, he lifted you into the air like you were a deranged package and he was some kind of express courier. You barely had time to flail before he rocketed off, delivering you with precision to the board game club's headquarters.

You landed with an unceremonious thud, right in front of Idia, who nearly fell out of his chair.

“Ortho!” Idia hissed, his flaming hair flaring. “You can’t just abduct people like that!”

“But you said you wanted them to join!” Ortho chirped. “Mission accomplished!”

Azul, seated calmly at the head of the table, adjusted his glasses and smirked. “Well, well. A delivery service—how efficient. Welcome to the board game club.”

You were still processing the fact that you’d been airmailed when Idia slouched lower in his seat, muttering, “Ugh, so embarrassing. Ortho, seriously…”

“Uh,” you began, brushing yourself off. “Hi?”

Azul gestured grandly to the table in front of him, where an array of meticulously organized board games was displayed like they were ancient treasures. “Here, we focus on strategy, intellect, and the fine art of outwitting your opponent. Unlike other clubs,” he said with a pointed glance at the door, “this one doesn’t require you to break a sweat.”

“That’s actually kind of appealing,” you admitted, still wary.

Idia perked up slightly, his hair flickering a little brighter. “See? I told you it’s cool. I mean, if you like, uh, not running around like some NPC.”

Ortho leaned over, nodding enthusiastically. “And Big Brother’s really good at this stuff! He’s undefeated in our club tournaments!”

“That’s because you’re the only other member who’s not a liability!” Idia blurted, before realizing what he’d just said. “Uh—I mean—you’d totally, like, be an asset. Probably.”

Azul cleared his throat, clearly annoyed at being excluded from the compliment. “Allow me to demonstrate. Why don’t we have a quick match? You against Idia.”

“What?” Idia sat up straight, his hair sparking nervously. “No way! That’s not fair—I can’t just—”

Azul gave him a smile sharp enough to cut glass. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of losing, Idia.”

Idia’s face turned pink. “Fine,” he grumbled, setting up the board. “But don’t blame me if I crush them.”

You sat down reluctantly, realizing too late that this was probably a trap. Idia’s fingers moved at lightning speed as he set up his pieces, muttering calculations under his breath. Ortho leaned over your shoulder, giving you completely useless advice like, “Just believe in yourself!”

To your surprise, you managed to hold your own for the first few turns. Idia glanced up at you, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he were reevaluating your existence.

“Huh,” he murmured. “Not bad. For a newbie.”

“Is that a compliment?” you asked, moving your piece cautiously.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” he said quickly, his face turning red again.

Azul chuckled from his spot at the table. “See? A game of wits and strategy. Isn’t this far superior to running laps or throwing balls into hoops?”

“Hey!” you said, pointing your game piece at him. “Don’t diss the other clubs. They’re passionate too!”

Azul raised an eyebrow. “Passion doesn’t win battles. Strategy does.”

The game dragged on, and by the end of it, you were completely out of your depth. Idia, on the other hand, looked like he’d just stepped out of an anime boss fight, his hair flaring dramatically as he made his final move.

“Checkmate,” he said, grinning slightly.

“Wrong game, Big Brother,” Ortho corrected.

“Whatever!” Idia snapped, but he didn’t look too upset. “It’s over, okay?”

Azul leaned forward, smirking again. “So, what do you think? Ready to join?”

You leaned back in your chair, your brain fried from trying to keep up. “I… I need to think about it.”

Ortho beamed. “That means they’re considering it! Success!”

Idia muttered something under his breath about “too much pressure” and “why is this so stressful,” but you caught a tiny flicker of a smile as he fiddled with one of the game pieces.

Azul, ever the businessman, handed you a brochure as you left. “Take your time. But remember—intellect always wins.”

You left the board game club feeling like you’d just survived a high-stakes negotiation. And as Ortho cheerfully waved goodbye, you couldn’t help but wonder if all the clubs were this intense.

Film Studies Club

You were rounding a corner, still recovering from your latest club recruitment ambush, when a perfectly manicured hand shot out and grabbed your wrist.

Before you could even yelp, you found yourself being gracefully pulled into the Film Studies Clubroom by none other than Vil Schoenheit. His strides were purposeful, his posture impeccable, and his expression…well, let’s just say it was the definition of I’m doing you a favor, peasant.

“Vil?” you sputtered, barely managing to keep up. “What are you—”

“I need to vet you,” Vil said simply, his voice calm but leaving no room for argument. “The Film Studies Club could use some fresh blood, and you look… adequate.”

“Adequate?” you echoed, mildly offended but too intrigued to argue further.

He led you to the center of the room, gesturing for you to stand under a perfectly angled spotlight. “Don’t misunderstand,” Vil continued, crossing his arms and regarding you with a critical eye. “I’m merely evaluating your potential. Our club requires both talent and diligence—qualities that, if I’m being honest, are rare in this school.”

“Uh, thanks?”

Vil ignored you, pulling out a script and flipping through it like he was deciding your fate. “If you can’t pass the audition, you can still join as a backstage hand,” he said airily. “We’re short on those too.”

“Wow, what an inspiring pitch,” you muttered, but Vil’s sharp gaze silenced you immediately.

“Read this,” he instructed, handing you the script and gesturing for you to begin.

You hesitated, glancing at the lines. “You’re serious? Right now?”

“Do I look like someone who jokes about art?” Vil asked, raising a perfectly sculpted brow.

Point taken.

Clearing your throat, you started reading, trying to put some effort into it. Vil watched you intently, his expression inscrutable. He occasionally tilted his head, as if mentally dissecting every word you spoke, every movement you made.

When you finished, you looked at him expectantly, waiting for his verdict.

Vil tapped his chin, his eyes narrowing. “You’re not hopeless,” he said finally, in a tone that made it sound like a compliment. “Rough around the edges, yes, but I’ve seen worse.”

“Gee, thanks,” you said dryly.

“Don’t be smug. You’ll need work,” Vil continued, ignoring your tone. “But I suppose you have potential.”

“And if I didn’t?”

Vil gave a delicate shrug, his expression cool. “Then you’d still be useful behind the scenes. But consider this your opportunity to elevate yourself. Being part of my club means striving for excellence—no exceptions.”

You couldn’t help but smirk. “Is this really about me, or are you just desperate for members?”

Vil’s eyes narrowed, but there was a flicker of amusement there. “Desperation has nothing to do with it. I’m simply ensuring that my club remains unparalleled. If you happen to benefit from my guidance, so be it.”

“Well, when you put it that way, how can I refuse? I'll think about it.”

Vil’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles. “Smart choice. Now, don’t make me regret it.”

With that, he turned on his heel, leaving you standing there wondering what exactly you’d just signed up for—and if Vil’s idea of “elevating yourself” involved a complete personality overhaul.

Science Club

You barely had time to process Vil's dramatic exit when a familiar voice whispered theatrically, “Ah, my muse! Fate conspires to bring us together!”

Before you could react, Rook Hunt appeared—swooped, really—out of nowhere and expertly whisked you away from the Film Studies Clubroom. It was less like being led and more like being caught mid-flight by an overly enthusiastic bird of prey.

“Rook?!” you yelped as he practically danced you down the hallway. “What is happening?”

“Mon ami,” he declared, his eyes glittering with fervor, “you must see the science club! A world of wonder awaits you!”

“Wait—science?” you echoed, incredulous. “You’re in the science club?”

“Ah, oui! Science is but another stage upon which the beauty of nature and humanity performs its eternal dance! The experiments! The cultivation of life! The creation of culinary masterpieces! All expressions of art, no?”

You weren’t sure if he was describing scientific principles or poetry, but before you could argue, Rook had dragged you into the science clubroom.

The room was a chaotic mix of activities. One corner housed a vibrant garden under grow lights, another had chemistry equipment bubbling away ominously, and a third corner smelled suspiciously like freshly baked bread. Trey Clover stood near a counter, pulling cookies out of an oven as if this were the most normal thing to happen in a science lab.

“Ah, there you are,” Trey greeted, smiling warmly. “Rook said he’d bring someone by. I’m guessing you’re deciding on a club?”

You glanced between Rook, who was already gesturing dramatically at a rack of test tubes, and Trey, who held up a tray of cookies like a peace offering. “I… guess I am?”

“Bien sûr!” Rook exclaimed, sweeping an arm toward the greenery in the corner. “Behold! We grow life itself here! Tomatoes, basil, flowers—anything your heart desires!”

Trey added, “We also bake and cook as part of our activities. It’s a great way to learn about chemistry and make something useful at the same time.”

“And explosions!” Rook chimed in enthusiastically. “Occasionally, there are explosions.”

Trey shot him a look. “Not… intentionally.”

Rook turned back to you, his expression radiant. “Think of the possibilities, mon ami! With science, you can cultivate beauty, create masterpieces, and perhaps even unlock secrets of the universe! And, of course, I am here to guide you—to nurture the artistic soul that dwells within!”

“Also,” Trey added, far more pragmatically, “we’re not picky about what activities you want to try. It’s a flexible club, so you could do a little bit of everything.”

You considered this as Trey handed you a cookie. It was warm and delicious, which admittedly swayed your opinion a little.

“Hmm,” you said thoughtfully, “so I could garden, bake, and blow things up all in one club?”

“Exactly!” Trey said with a smile.

Rook leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a stage whisper. “And think, mon cher—if you hone your talents here, you could support Vil in creating the cinematic beauty he so envisions! Science and art, united in harmony!”

You blinked. “Wait, are you trying to recruit me for this club and help Vil at the same time?”

Rook grinned. “Nature does not limit itself to one purpose, mon ami, and neither do I.”

Trey sighed but didn’t deny it.

“Well, this is definitely… something,” you said, nibbling on the cookie. “I’ll think about it.”

“Ah, a maybe!” Rook clasped his hands together like you’d just promised him your soul. “A victory in itself!”

Before you could say anything else, Rook twirled you toward the door, clearly ready to drag you to your next destination—or possibly just keep talking about “the poetry of chlorophyll” until you gave in.

Pop Music Club

Just as you were beginning to suspect Rook was about to wax poetic about “the lyrical mysteries of yeast fermentation,” a sudden voice interrupted.

“Oh-ho, what’s this?”

Before you could even react, Lilia Vanrouge materialized out of thin air, practically glowing with chaotic energy. “Ah, my dear friend! You’re far too bright a star to waste away on science experiments! Come with me—pop stardom awaits!”

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

And just like that, you were swept up in Lilia’s whirlwind. He dragged you down the hallway with a skip in his step and a mischievous laugh, leaving Rook and Trey in his dust.

“Lilia, I can walk, you know!” you said, stumbling to keep up.

“But where’s the drama in that?” Lilia replied, cackling as he pushed open the doors to the Pop Music Clubroom.

Inside, the room was a cacophony of sound and color. Disco lights spun, a half-finished banner reading ‘Next Big Thing!’ hung lopsidedly on the wall, and Kalim was gleefully banging away on a drum like it owed him money. Cater sat cross-legged on the floor, scrolling through his phone and periodically snapping selfies with sparkly filters.

“Oh, hey!” Kalim greeted you, waving so enthusiastically he almost hit himself with the drum stick. “You’re here to join us, right? This club is the best! We have music, dancing, and it’s all just super fun!”

Cater glanced up from his phone, his grin wide and just a little too calculated. “You’d fit right in! Think of all the magicam-worthy moments we could create together. Plus, the followers you’d get? Off the charts.”

“Followers?” you echoed, glancing at Lilia.

“Ah, but of course!” Lilia said, flinging his arms wide as if presenting you to an adoring crowd. “The Pop Music Club isn’t just about music—it’s about presence! Charisma! The ability to captivate a room with a single note or a dazzling smile!”

“It’s also about having a good time!” Kalim added, spinning in a circle for no reason other than sheer joy.

Cater nodded, holding up his phone. “And don’t forget—every moment is a potential viral video. You, me, Lilia, and Kalim as the dream team? We’d own the algorithm.”

You hesitated. “Uh, I don’t even play an instrument.”

“Neither does he!” Lilia said brightly, pointing at some unfortunate bystander.

“Hey!” he protested. “I play the Kalimba!” He promptly tried to play a note, missed the rhythm entirely, and Lilia laughed like it was the funniest thing ever.

“See?” Lilia said, unfazed. “Talent is optional here. All we need is your spirit!”

Cater stood, brushing imaginary dust off his pants. “We also dabble in choreography, so if you’ve got two left feet, don’t worry—we’ll teach you how to make them look intentional.”

“Come on, join us!” Kalim said, grabbing your hands and bouncing up and down like an overexcited puppy. “We could totally use your energy!”

“What energy?” you asked, deadpan. “I’ve been dragged between clubs all day—I barely have any left.”

“Exactly!” Lilia said with a wink. “We’ll channel what’s left into a glorious crescendo of pop music excellence!”

You weren’t sure whether to laugh, cry, or just surrender entirely to the chaos. Lilia’s grin was practically infectious, Kalim’s enthusiasm radiated like the sun, and Cater was already adjusting the angle of his phone to catch you in the best light.

“Well,” you muttered, “at least it sounds… lively.”

“Lively is an understatement,” Cater said, snapping a selfie with you and Lilia in the background. “Hashtag PopStarsInTheMaking! You’re gonna love it here.”

“Let me guess,” you said dryly. “You’re already planning to upload that, aren’t you?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Cater said with a wink.

Lilia clapped his hands, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “So, what do you say? Ready to unleash your inner star?”

“I… will think about it,” you replied, edging toward the door.

“Think fast!” Kalim called after you. “The bass is calling your name!”

You bolted before anyone could shove an instrument into your hands.

Equestrian Club

As you hurried down the hallway, still reeling from the pop music chaos you'd just escaped, you nearly collided with a flash of red.

"Ah, there you are!"

You blinked up at none other than Riddle Rosehearts, who looked as though he'd been scouring the entire school for you. His eyes narrowed, and his voice carried a tone of stern authority mixed with subtle relief.

"I've been looking for you," Riddle said, crossing his arms. "Ace and Deuce mentioned that you’re considering which club to join. As housewarden, it’s my responsibility to ensure you make a proper choice."

You blinked, still processing. "Oh, uh… thanks?"

"Enough dilly-dallying," Riddle said briskly, taking your wrist with surprising firmness. "You're coming with me to the Equestrian Club."

"Wait, what—"

Before you could finish, Riddle had already begun marching you toward the stables. You were half-dragged, half-guided, catching snippets of his lecture along the way about the merits of horseback riding, discipline, and poise.

When you arrived, the warm scent of hay filled the air, and the sound of soft nickering greeted you. The stables were pristine, the horses sleek and well-groomed. Standing nearby were Silver and Sebek, both tending to the horses.

"Riddle, you found them" Silver greeted you with his usual calm demeanor. He gave you a faint smile as he gently brushed a dappled gray mare. "Perfect timing—we were just about to go for a ride."

Sebek, on the other hand, straightened like a soldier at attention, his voice booming. "THEY WILL JOIN US, OF COURSE! IT IS ONLY FITTING FOR AN INDIVIDUAL OF WORTH TO EMBRACE SUCH A NOBLE ART!"

"Sebek, indoor voice," Riddle said sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I AM OUTDOORS!" Sebek retorted, though he did lower his volume slightly.

You glanced nervously at the horses. "Uh, I don’t know if I’m… horse material."

"Nonsense," Riddle said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Riding teaches discipline, focus, and responsibility. It’s the perfect club for fostering growth—and for avoiding unnecessary distractions like some less dignified clubs."

"Pop Music Club?" you guessed.

Riddle sniffed, his expression sour. "Among others."

Silver walked over, still holding the brush, and gave you a reassuring nod. "Don’t worry. The horses are gentle, and we can teach you everything. It’s a peaceful activity once you get used to it."

"Peaceful!" Sebek exclaimed, throwing his arms wide. "It is a pursuit befitting the greatest warriors! EVEN LORD MALLEUS—"

"Sebek," Riddle interrupted, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Focus on the matter at hand."

"Apologies!" Sebek barked, saluting.

Riddle turned back to you, his expression softening just a fraction. "The Equestrian Club isn’t just about riding horses. It’s about elegance, partnership, and understanding. You could benefit greatly from it."

"And the horses are great listeners," Silver added.

"Unlike some humans," Sebek muttered under his breath.

You bit back a laugh as Riddle gave Sebek another glare.

"What do you say?" Riddle asked, stepping aside to let you see one of the horses—a chestnut with a kind, inquisitive gaze. "This is Vorpal. Perhaps a ride would convince you?"

The horse whinnied softly, and for a moment, you considered it. There was something appealing about the tranquility of the stables, the camaraderie of the club members, and the undeniable charm of working with such majestic creatures.

But then you remembered the drum chaos, the science experiments, and Vil’s dramatic vetting process.

"Let me, uh… think about it?" you said, taking a step back.

Riddle sighed, though he looked more exasperated than disappointed. "Very well. But don’t wait too long—indecision is unbecoming."

"Yeah," you mumbled. "Got it."

As you made your escape, you could hear Sebek booming, "RIDING A HORSE WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE!"

You weren’t sure about that, but you were certain that escaping club recruitment was starting to feel like an Olympic sport.

Magift Club

As you staggered away from the stables, thoroughly frazzled by Sebek’s enthusiastic yelling and Riddle’s intense lecture on discipline, you barely had time to catch your breath before—

“Yo, gotcha!”

A pair of hands grabbed your shoulders from behind, and you let out a very undignified yelp. You turned to find Ruggie grinning up at you like a mischievous hyena that had just found its next meal.

“Ruggie! What—?”

“No time for questions, boss,” he said, practically dragging you down the path. “Leona’s orders. He told me to bring ya to the Magift Club.”

“The Magift Club?” you repeated, already sensing disaster.

Ruggie nodded, smirking. “Yup. Let’s go, let’s go!”

“But—wait—I don’t even have magic!” you protested as he hauled you toward the field.

“Details, details,” Ruggie waved off, his grip on your arm firm.

Soon enough, you were dumped unceremoniously on the sidelines of the Magift field. Leona was lounging on the grass under the shade of a tree, looking entirely too comfortable for someone allegedly trying to recruit you. Epel was nearby, aggressively practicing his throws while muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “I’ll show ‘em.”

Leona cracked one eye open lazily as Ruggie dropped you off. “’Bout time,” he drawled.

“Leona,” you said flatly, “why would you want me in the Magift Club? I don't even have magic.”

He yawned, looking entirely unbothered. “Yeah, I know that. You’re still better than the other herbivores running around. You can be the manager.”

“Manager?”

“Yup,” Ruggie chimed in, plopping down next to Leona. “You’d handle all the boring stuff—paperwork, schedules, snacks, makin’ sure Epel doesn’t throw a fit when he gets tackled.”

“I don’t throw fits!” Epel yelled, narrowly missing a hoop with his throw.

Leona smirked. “Sure you don’t.”

You crossed your arms, unconvinced. “Why me, though? You’re telling me I’m the best candidate for this?”

Leona sat up slightly, his sharp eyes locking on yours. “I’m sayin’ you’re the least annoying option. I don’t need some herbivore manager who’s gonna cry every time I take a nap instead of practicing. You’re not useless, so quit whining.”

Ruggie leaned in conspiratorially. “Basically, you’re the only one Leona doesn’t feel like chasing off the field after two days.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like a ringing endorsement.”

Leona shrugged. “Take it or leave it. Makes no difference to me.”

At that moment, Epel ran up, panting slightly from his practice. “C’mon, you should join us!” he urged. “You don’t need magic to be part of the team. And if you ever wanna learn some tricks, I can teach ya!”

Leona gave him a lazy side-eye. “Don’t scare them off.”

“I’m not scarin’ ‘em! I’m convincin’ ‘em!” Epel shot back, glaring at Leona before turning back to you. “Seriously, we could use someone like you. The club’s fun, I promise!”

Ruggie snickered. “Fun’s a stretch. It’s more like… survival of the fittest with a ball involved.”

“And napping,” Leona added with a smirk.

Epel crossed his arms. “Well, maybe if someone practiced instead of nappin’, we’d win more games!”

Leona waved him off with a scoff.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “I don’t know, guys. This sounds like a lot of chaos.”

“Chaos is half the fun,” Ruggie said with a grin. “C’mon, boss, think of all the free food we get during games. And you’d get to boss Leona around as the manager. Ain’t that worth it?”

Leona snorted. “Good luck with that.”

You glanced at the trio—Epel brimming with determination, Ruggie radiating mischief, and Leona looking like he didn’t care but also somehow cared just enough to try. It was… weirdly tempting, in its own way.

“I’ll… think about it,” you said finally.

“Fair enough,” Leona said, already reclining again. “Don’t take too long, though. We’ve got a game next week, and I’m not filling out paperwork.”

Ruggie winked. “Don’t worry, you’ll come around. Everyone does.”

As you left the field, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d just been almost recruited into something much more taxing than a simple club.

Mountain Lovers Club

Before you could escape the Magift field and all its potential paperwork, you took a sharp turn—only to smack right into what felt like a wall of polite menace. A soft, knowing chuckle sounded above you.

“Oh dear, do be careful,” came Jade Leech’s unmistakably smooth voice.

You took a step back, already dreading the conversation. “Jade,” you said warily, “what are you doing here?”

His sharp smile grew ever so slightly. “Waiting for you, of course. Word travels fast, and I’ve heard you’re in the market for a club.”

“Oh no,” you muttered. “You’re not here to—”

Before you could finish, he was already guiding you away, his hand light on your arm but unyielding, like a vice hidden under a silk glove.

“Come now,” he said, his tone as polite as ever, “I simply must show you the Mountain Lovers Club.”

“The what now?” you asked, bewildered.

“The Mountain Lovers Club,” he repeated, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“And… who else is in this club?”

“Why, just me.”

You stopped in your tracks. “It’s just you?”

“Yes.” Jade smiled serenely, as if this were not a glaring red flag. “I am the founder, leader, and sole member. But with your arrival, that could very well change.”

You blinked at him, unsure if you’d misheard. “Wait, so you’ve been running a one-person club this whole time?”

“Indeed.” His expression didn’t falter in the slightest. “The Mountain Lovers Club is dedicated to the appreciation of all things mountainous. Hiking through beautiful terrain, foraging for wild plants, observing unique ecosystems, and—on occasion—befriending the local fauna.”

“Befriending?”

“Examining, petting, observing closely…” His eyes gleamed. “Perhaps all three.”

You shook your head, trying to process. “So… why me?”

Jade clasped his hands together, the picture of poised enthusiasm. “You strike me as someone who appreciates unique experiences. The Mountain Lovers Club offers a chance to explore the great outdoors, expand your horizons, and develop a deeper appreciation for nature’s wonders.”

“And by ‘great outdoors,’ you mean mountains?”

“Precisely.”

“And it’s just you?”

“For now,” he said, his tone warm but his gaze uncomfortably intense. “But every great journey begins with a single step. Yours could be joining this club.”

You gave a nervous laugh. “Uh… I don’t think hiking through mountains is really my thing.”

“Ah, but how do you know unless you try?” Jade’s smile widened. “Besides, I’ll be there to guide you every step of the way. No need to worry about getting lost… or encountering anything unexpected.”

The way he said “unexpected” made you want to run for the hills (ironic, given the circumstances).

“Look, I appreciate the offer, but—”

“I insist,” he cut in smoothly, his tone polite but with a note of finality. “At least allow me to show you the club’s activities. Perhaps a short hike this weekend? I’ve already prepared a route.”

You stared at him. “You’ve already…?”

“Of course.” His gaze was calm, calculating. “Preparation is key. I’ve even packed a lunch.”

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Jade, I—”

He tilted his head, his smile remaining perfectly composed. “Surely you wouldn’t refuse without at least giving it a chance? I’ve put so much thought into this.”

“Why do I feel like I don’t have a choice?” you muttered.

Jade’s smile was razor-sharp and utterly unrepentant. “Because you don’t.”

You sighed in defeat. “Fine. One hike.”

“Excellent,” he said, his tone soft and victorious. “I’ll see you this Saturday at dawn.”

“Dawn?!”

“Oh yes,” he said, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. “The mountains are at their most beautiful in the early morning light. You’ll love it.”

As he sauntered away, leaving you to process your fate, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d just agreed to something far more treacherous than a simple hike.

Gargoyle Research Society

The moment you finally reached Ramshackle Dorm, exhausted from the whirlwind of club-hopping and increasingly bizarre sales pitches, you let out a long sigh of relief. The day had been nothing short of chaotic, and all you wanted was to collapse onto your creaky old bed and forget the words “club activities” ever existed.

But just as your hand touched the doorknob, a familiar voice, deep and regal, called out from the shadows.

“Child of man.”

You jumped slightly, spinning around to see none other than Malleus Draconia emerging from beneath the pale light of the moon, his presence as imposing and enigmatic as always. He stood by one of Ramshackle’s crumbling stone walls, his expression calm but his eyes bright with an unreadable intensity.

“Oh, Malleus,” you said, your voice tinged with weariness but also a touch of warmth. “Didn’t see you there.”

He tilted his head ever so slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. “I was merely admiring the architecture of your dorm. It has a certain… wistful charm.”

You smiled faintly. “I guess that’s one way to put it.”

Then, with the sort of graceful confidence only Malleus could manage, he stepped closer, his presence looming but never threatening. “I have heard,” he began, his tone soft and deliberate, “that you have been seeking a club to join.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard. “How did you—”

“The winds carry whispers,” he said cryptically.

“Right,” you muttered, deciding not to question it.

Malleus folded his hands neatly in front of him, looking every bit the picture of regal sincerity. “If you have not yet made your decision… I would like to invite you to join my club.”

Your brain, still reeling from Jade’s mountain escapades and Leona’s managerial demands, stalled for a moment. “Your… club?”

“Yes,” he said, his voice brimming with quiet pride. “The Gargoyle Research Society.”

“The… what now?”

“The Gargoyle Research Society,” he repeated, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “I am both its founder and sole member.”

Of course, he was.

Malleus seemed oblivious to your stunned silence as he continued, his expression softening into something almost earnest. “The society is dedicated to the appreciation and study of gargoyles. We explore the campus, observing their intricate designs and marveling at their history. There is so much beauty in their silent watch over us.”

You blinked. “So… you just walk around and look at gargoyles?”

“Precisely,” he said, his tone unironically enthusiastic.

“And… that’s it?”

Malleus nodded solemnly. “Indeed. It is a noble pursuit, one that nurtures both the mind and the spirit.”

For a moment, you were at a loss for words. Of all the clubs you’d encountered today, this might just take the crown for most niche.

Malleus, however, seemed utterly earnest. His eyes bore into yours, his expression sincere and unguarded. “I understand if this does not align with your current interests,” he said, his voice softening. “But should you ever feel the call of the gargoyles… know that you are always welcome.”

There was something so genuine in his tone, so quietly hopeful, that you felt a pang of guilt for even thinking about brushing him off. You sighed, offering him a tired but sincere smile. “You know what? I’ll definitely consider it.”

Malleus’s eyes lit up, his calm demeanor giving way to a flicker of pure joy. “Truly?”

“Truly,” you said, nodding.

“Then I shall look forward to the day you join me,” he said, his voice as soft as a promise.

With that, he gave you a small, graceful bow before disappearing back into the night, leaving you to wonder how you’d managed to end the day not only agreeing to a potential club but also feeling oddly flattered by the idea of studying gargoyles.

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “What a day…”

Masterlist

Part 2: Choosing a club

a/n: it completely slipped my mind that ortho is in film studies sorry :(

[hadersversion]

but daddy i love him!

“no, i’m not coming to my senses. i know he’s crazy but he’s the one i want.”

pairing: rafe cameron x innocent kook!reader

word count: 5.8k

warnings: smut, minors dni!!! dry humping & fingering. corruption kink of sorts (rafe and an innocent reader has taken over me fully i apologize). parental violence/verbal abuse. fighting. rafe showing his true colors but quickly hiding it from the reader because rafe is a big softie for them. pet names (sweetheart, honey, darling, baby, pretty/good girl). aftercare. let me know if i miss any!

mood board!

rafe cameron was bad news.

anyone in the outer banks could tell you that.

he was a fighter, a shit-talker, a guy who you couldn’t trust.

but there was something so intriguing about him that you just couldn’t turn away.

from the day you moved to island almost 10 years ago, you haven’t been able to get him off your mind. you would see him at parties, the country club, when you would hang out with his sister, around town on his motorbike with his buddies. but you had to push that crush deep down because no one in their right mind would go after that boy.

except you.

you stretched yourself on the court, waiting for your dad to come out with drinks before your tennis match. that’s when you saw him and his friends making their way to the locker room. they had just got done their round of golf, you could tell by their bags. you tried not to stare, but your eyes seemed to have a mind of their own.

“hey, y/n.” you heard him call, with a smirk painted across his face.

your face blushed and you waved to him. “hey rafe.” play it cool, play it cool.

you can see him look you up and down, staring at your legs. “nice skirt.”

you looked down at the new, white tennis skirt your dad had bought you for your report card. your fingers found a loose thread, beginning to toy with it to deal with the embarrassment you felt. “t-thanks.”

he nods before looking behind you. “mr. y/l/n.” he nods with a quick wave. you turn around to see your dad with two waters and a stern look on his face. “enjoy your game.” he says before going inside.

your dad stands over you as you sit, handing a water bottle over. “that cameron boy…” he lets out a deep sigh.

“what?” you question, getting up and brushing your legs off.

your dad pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. “he’s not the kind of guy you want to be friends with, sweetie. he’s a bad seed.”

“but how do you know that?” you question, trying not to sound too suspicious.

your dad picks up his racket and makes his way over to his side of the net. “i know ward cameron. and i know how rafe is just like his dad, thinks he can get anything he wants. thinks there is no consequences to life. but there is. there always is.” your dad shakes his head. “i saw him beating up some kid here not that long ago. sure, he was a pogue but doesn’t give rafe the right to walk around like the king of the outer banks. but until someone stops him, humbles him, things’ll never change.”

you stand there, uncomfortable. all you wanted to do was defend rafe, though you weren’t close like that. but your dad is a one way street. it’s his way or no way. so all you can do is nod. “oh…okay.” you say simply, getting ready for the match.

“just promise me you won’t get mixed up with the likes of that boy, please?” your father looks sincere.

you bite your lip and look down at your clean, white shoes. “yes sir.”

“good, now watch me beat you in tennis.” he says with a laugh. i fake a smile, getting on with the game, but still have rafe in the back of my mind.

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you didn’t see rafe again until the night of a house party at topper’s house.

your friends and you walk in, buzzed from the pre-game. they immediately all go their separate ways, looking for drinks, boys, or both. this leaves you standing awkwardly by a table, talking to some people from school. they talk about prom, their grades, and teachers, making you mentally check out from the conversation. that’s when he catches your eye, he is talking to topper and kelce with a red solo cup in his hand. you watch his every move, how big and veiny his hands are, practically cover the entire cup. how he constantly pushes his hair back while he talks, almost seeming like a force of habit he has. he also licks his lips a lot, sending a very graphic image of rafe between your le-

he looks up, meeting your gaze. a blush forms on your face as you try to hide your embarrassment but taking a sip of alcohol from your cup. you give yourself some time, staring into the cup before looking up again. but when you look at him, he hasn’t stopped staring at you. the blush you fought so hard to keep away makes your face feel like it’s on fire.

you watch as he excuses himself and makes his way over to you. this has to be a dream? or some prank, right?

“hey there, y/n.” he snaps you out of your spiraling thoughts. every person who you are talking to looks over to rafe then back at you. “didn’t know you were coming.”

you awkwardly shrug. “last minute choice by my friends.”

his eyes burn holes into your body as he looks you up and down. “well, i’m glad you’re here.” you nod at him, offering a shy smile. “looks like you need another drink, come inside and i’ll get you one.” he nods his head towards the kitchen door. the group you're with is watching this conversation like it’s a TV show. you make my way through them and stand next to him. he automatically puts his hand on your back and leads you inside. the feeling of his touch sends chills down your spine but it almost feels like his hand is meant to be there. like his touch is the missing piece in your life.

you get into the kitchen and he heads towards the fridge, grabbing juice and handing it over. “you strike me as a vodka and juice, girl.” he says with a smile, making my insides melt.

“and what makes you say that?” you ask, putting your hand on my hip, playing into his little game of flirting.

“well, you’re sweet and you seem to play it safe. you don’t really drink a lot but when you do, you’re never blacked out.” he admits with a laugh, giving his diagnosis. “juice is sweet and vodka is the safest way to get a little drunk, in my opinion.” he stares at your face, waiting for a response.

“you’re good, rafe cameron. a little too good.” you admit, grabbing the juice and filling up the cup. he stands over you, giving me the vodka next. “didn’t know i was that easy to read.”

“you’re not.” he admits, staring down at you while you drink. “i just think i have a special interest in you.”

you freeze in place, there’s no way he’s admitting this to you. right now. the boy you’ve been pining after since the first grade. you can tell you're shutting down but you need to play it cool. “oh really?” you look up at his blue eyes, getting lost in them instantaneously.

“really.” he steps closer, inches away from my face. you know you are not that drunk but your head feels like it’s spinning under his gaze. he leans in a little closer, your noses brushing, when the kitchen door slams and topper can be seen stumbling in. his obnoxious laugh fills the room, making rafe close his eyes and sigh. “what could you possibly want right now?”

topper laughs and comes up beside rafe, he’s clearly fucked up. “i’m just looking for some weed, man.” he hits his chest playfully. “don’t let me get in your way.”

rafe pushes him away, making topper laugh harder at us. he looks at you before speaking. “sorry for being a cockblock.”

rafe narrows his eyes at him. “just get the fuck outta here, top.”

topper staggers into the other room, still laughing.

“sorry about him. when he drinks, he becomes an asshole.” he says, running a hand across his face.

“is he drunk all the time?” i ask with a new found confidence in my voice.

rafe looks at me and laughs. “seems to be.”

you both stand in silence, not moving away from each other but unable to bring the moment back.

“i like you.” he admits.

you stare at him, unable to speak. “w-what?”

“i think you heard me, y/n.” he smiles cockily, looking into your eyes.

you look back at him. “you barely know me, rafe.”

“doesn’t mean i can’t like you.” he sips his cup and nudges your shoulder with his. “i think you could say the same about me.” he gets closer, whispering into your ear. “don’t think i don’t notice how you stare at me when i’m around.”

you feel the air leave your body and you bite your lip. you feel like your cornered and have nowhere to go. “i-i-uh…”

he brushes his finger against your lip, almost like he’s shushing you. but you can’t even fight the way your body reacts to his touch. “it’s okay, honey. i like it. i like it a lot.” he says in a whisper, almost making you forget you aren’t the only two people in the world. it feels like you can read his mind just by looking into his blue eyes. he wants you…screw that, rafe cameron needs you. and you need him. forget what your father says, or the town, or even your friends. this seems to be all you need.

how am i ever going to recover from this? you thought to yourself.

you hear your friend call your name from outside. rafe looks over as they yell from outside. “i’ll see you around, how’s that sound?” you look at him, unable to think when he looks at you like this. his hand brushes against your face before walking back out into the party.

you stand there, still as your friend comes in. “you alright? looks like you seen a ghost or something.” she asks you, laughing a bit.

“all good.” was all you can get out, staring straight ahead at the door rafe just left in.

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ever since the party, rafe found little ways to be around you.

whether it was joining you at the country club while you played tennis or hanging around you when he saw you at the beach reading. he even started knocking on the front door of your mansion to just talk on your porch, something you had to hide from your dad. with these interactions, you had no idea what everyone was warning you about with him. he was one of the sweetest guys you ever met. for weeks, you and rafe had begun a nice friendship.

but the almost kiss at topper's party was never spoken of again.

the two of you sat on your porch swing, the air was warm as summer was slowly approaching. your legs laid flatly across rafe’s lap, looking directly at him. you poured a glass of lemonade for you both, sparking rafe to hit you with a “you sure you don’t want some vodka in this?”

when you’re with rafe, the conversations seem to just flow like you are the oldest of friends. you could talk about anything and nothing at the same time. he went on for the past five minutes about how he used to love playing lacrosse but one injury affected his whole career for him.

“it sucked, ya know? i never felt like i belonged anywhere, or had a close bond with anyone like i did on that team. then one fucking torn acl later and it’s all gone for me. i had college scouts looking at me and everything. i could’ve escaped this place and lived the real college experience.” he looked out into the water that faced your house. he turned to you and smiled awkwardly. “jeez, i’m sorry i just don’t shut up.”

you chuckle at him, loving how he put some of his walls down around you. “it’s okay, i like hearing ya talk. it’s soothing.” you smile innocently at him.

he gazes into your eyes and nods, his expression softening. “really?” you nod and he just stares at you. “you’re one of a kind, ya know?” his fingers start to rub innocent circles on your leg.

“and why’s that?” you ask him.

“i-i don’t know, i feel like i can be myself around you.” he admits. “don’t ever quote me on that because i’ll deny that shit.” he points, gaining a laugh from you.

“don’t want anyone to know rafe cameron can be a softie?” you tease him.

“shut up, i’m not a softie.”

“i think you can be behind close doors.” you say.

he stops rubbing your leg and turns to you. “oh shut up.”

“well, you’re gonna have to make me then.” you say without thinking.

rafe looks at you with a fire in his eyes that you haven’t seen since the party. “what was that?” he cocks his eyebrow at you.

you just stare into his eyes, straightening your shoulders back. a confidence striking you like never before. “i think you heard me, rafe.”

without missing a beat, rafe connects your lips. all of that pent-up tension, gone within that very second. his hands found his way to your face, cupping it ever so lightly like you were a delicate flower he was so lucky to have found. his hands slowly slid down your body, like he was trying to memorize every inch of your skin. "jesus, this is all i've been thinking about." he said breaking away, looking into your eyes.

"then, don't stop." you say breathlessly, climbing on top of his lap, kissing him again.

you can tell this move took rafe by surprise as he let out a soft moan in the kiss. the innocence he once thought you possessed was now all gone. you slowly began grinding yourself against rafe's clothed cock, which was slightly hardening. "fuck, who knew you had it in you, honey." he said as he kissed down your jaw. you never felt so needier in your life chasing a high with rafe that you thought you could only dream about.

your face blushed as you looked down at rafe who was staring up at you like you were a painting held high in the louvre. the more you looked down, the more self-conscious you became. your pace which was rapidly increasing started to falter. "hey, hey, sweetheart. don't stop now. what's wrong? talk to me." he caressed your face so lovingly.

you bit your lip and closed your eyes, still out of breathe. "i-i-i don't know. what if i'm doing this wrong? or it's weird for you? i'm just nervous, i never did this before."

"did what, sweetheart? dry humped?" he almost laughed, pushing hair out of your face.

you shrugged. "well yes and no..." your voice started to trail off.

"yes and no?" rafe stared at you with a puzzled expression, trying to crack the code. you watched as he deciphered your words and the gears started to turn. "y/n, have you ever been with someone like...sexually before?"

you wanted to cry, the embarrassment being too hard to handle. you just laid your head against rafe's chest and sighed. "please, don't think of me any differently. i just...i just haven't found the right person to do all this with, ya know? i used to be scared but with you...i don't know, i feel ready." rafe sat there in silence, his hands falling to your waist and gripping them. you break away from his chest and stare into his eyes, which have seemed to darken. "rafe?"

"you trust me?" he asks simply. you nod shyly, causing his breath to hitch. you can feel his pants grow tighter under you. "i want you to keep going, do you hear me? don't stop until you cum on my pants." it sounds like he is giving you orders. he brings his thumb across your lip and gives a menacing smirk. "you wanna be all mine, huh? you pretty girl. show me your mine."

with his reassurance, you pick up you begin to rub yourself against his pants. your hands grip his shoulders as he holds you down on him. "good girl, keep it going." the material of his jeans feel rough against your clothed cunt but it adds a sensation you have never felt before. "shit, look at how pretty you look on me. can't wait to bury my cock inside you. would you like that? my cock being so far inside you, you can feel it in your stomach?"

you let out a pathetic whine, your head falling back from the pleasure you have building up inside. "y-yes."

"good girl, but we gotta start with the basics, right?" his hands start to trail up your body, stopping at your closed breasts. he cups them with his hands and smiles when you cry his name. "i got you, baby. c'mon, you know you wanna cum."

you quickly grind against him, feeling desperate as you chase your high. with his words of praise and reassurance, you can feel yourself ready to release. with one quick movement, you feel the tension building up in your stomach release as you cum on rafe. tears prick your eyes as you repeat his name over and over again. "rafe, rafe, rafe."

he stares at you in awe as you finish on him. the sight of your teary eyes and his name falling from your lips in such a needy way pushed him over the edge. he found himself cumming in his pants like he was a high schooler all over again.

you both stayed there, out of breathe, not moving once. you felt like a whole new person even though barely anything has changed.

"you alright?" he asks, pushing hair away from your face.

you tiredly nod, not knowing how to form words. your hooded eyes just take in the view of rafe, his face read and sweaty with a cocky smirk painted across it.

he bites his lip and kisses you gently. "there's more where that came from, you know?" he says and your head reels. "i've been waiting for so long to have you to myself, sweetheart. i don't plan on letting go now."

you giggle into his chest and nod. "don't gotta worry about me leaving, trust me. i've never felt so good in my life." the sweet yet sensual moment you two shared came to a halt when you heard your dad's truck pulling up the gravel road to your house. "shit." you quickly climb off rafe, trying to compose yourself.

your father quickly exited the truck, slamming the door behind him. he seemed to race up to the two of you as you sat there. rafe's hand protectively went over yours as your father approached. "the hell is he doing here?" he fumes.

"d-dad, we're just hanging out." you lie to his face.

"yes sir, that's all we were doing." rafe says camly, looking at him in the eyes.

your father head snaps towards rafe. "was i talking to you, boy? no. stay outta it." his attention focuses back to you. "i told you to not mess with the likings of this boy and what do you do behind my back?" he screams at you. "you go around with this...this hooligan! i want him off my property now. acting like some easy girl, i raised you better."

"b-but, daddy." you pout, trying not to cry as rafe squeezes your hand.

"sir, you're being too hard on her. it's not her fault." rafe tries to calm him down.

your father's finger rests on rafe's chest as he gets close to his face. "oh i know that, rafe. it's you and your typical bullshit. my daughter wouldn't act this way if it wasn't for you. look at you, you're probably using her."

rafe's fists clenched as your father talks down to him, no one does this to him and gets away with it. "sir, i suggest you put that finger down."

"or what?" your father snickers in his face.

rafe's whole demeanor shifts, the sweet boy you were just talking to now gone. like he was never even there. it honestly scared you how fast rafe can change personalities. "you don't even want to know." he grits his teeth. you hate to admit the affect this took on your body, clenching your legs together.

your father drops his finger and turns to you. "inside, now." he says, grabbing your arm. before you can fight him off, he's dragging you away from rafe.

"it's okay, baby, we'll figure this out." he reassures as you are being brought into your house. "fuck!" he screams as soon as the door slams shut.

you watch as rafe makes his way to his truck, slamming the door shut and driving away. you turn to your father who just stares at you as you cry. "screw you!" you say before running upstairs and locking yourself in your room.

you finally had him and now you lost him.

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the days past since you saw rafe.

your father grounded you and cut you off from the outside world.

you sat by your window and waited, having some false hope that rafe would be your knight in shining armor and take you away from this place. your father pulled up the driveway and seemed to struggle getting out of his truck.

you met him at the door, ready to deal with the bullshit he would throw you today. when you opened your door, your father seemed battered and bruised.

"holy sh-i mean...what happened?" you asked, holding the door open for your dad as he sat on the recliner.

"nothing." he shuttered. "nothing happened."

you stood there and crossed your arms. "clearly something happened."

he shook his head, seeming almost fearful. "nothing happened, now drop it." you stood there as he turned to you. "you aren't grounded anymore. your phone is on my dresser." he seemed almost defeated.

you stared at your dad trying to understand what the hell is going on. are you in the twilight zone? you knew you wouldn't get an answer out of him so you grabbed your things and raced out of the house before he could change his mind. the sun was setting but you didn't care, you had one thing and one thing only on your mind.

you got on your bike and raced towards tannyhill. when you finally got there, you threw your bike down and almost ran to the front door. with two knocks, wheezie opened the door.

"y/n?" she said with a smirk.

"hey, wheezie, is rafe home?" you say, snooping around the insides of the home.

she rolls her eyes and opens the door. "in his room."

you walk up the stairs and stop right before his door. your fist hovering over it before connecting it to the wood. after a few seconds, rafe stands there in the almost dark room.

"y/n." he says, almost as though he was expecting you to be here.

you quickly jump into his arms, holding onto him by his neck. you missed this. the way he smelled, the way he felt, everything about this boy drive you wild. "i missed you."

"i missed you too, honey. come on in." he lets you into his room. this was your first time being in here. sure, you've seen it through snapchat and pictures he sends but that's it. it's the typical boy room but it felt authentic. it felt like rafe.

you sit down on his bed as he walks around, picking up clothes off the floor. "didn't think i'd be having guests." he doesn't seem like his usual self, maybe you caught him at a bad time? but he invited you in, so you stayed.

you laugh at him. "no big deal, the old man let me off the hook tonight. it was weird, he came home all messed up. i tried asking but he kinda pushed me away. it was weird."

rafe stood there, silently. "oh really?"

"yeah, super strange. he's not usually the fighter type. never has been." you watch him stand there. "you all good?"

he nods and turns to you. "i am, now that you're here."

you smile at him as he approaches you. you open your legs so he can stand in between them, looking down at you. he traces your face with his finger, stopping at your lips. "all mine, sweetheart. all mine." he says before bending down to kiss you. the kiss feels rough, almost as though you are a fresh breathe of air that rafe has been waiting for. he pushes you down onto his bed and crawls on top of you.

you break the kiss and look into his eyes, his room is dark so you can only make out certain features. but you bring your hand to his face and hold his cheek, which makes him wince. "oh, i'm sorry, did i hurt you?"

"n-no, it's all good." he tries to kiss you again but you stop him.

"rafe?" you ask him, making him stop once again. "what's wrong? tell me."

"goddamn! nothing is wrong, okay? i can't miss you." he says, running a hand through his hair. you try to study his face but can't even see him. you reach over for his bedside lamp. "no, no, leave it of-" before he can stop you, the light is on. his beautiful face has a large bruise under his right eye and cheek. his lip busted and knuckles bruised.

"rafe?" you question, sitting up.

"y/n, i can explain." he pleads.

then it all makes sense. your father coming home all battered and bruised, rafe's current state, you being let off the hook too easily.

"you don't even want to know."

"it's okay, baby, we'll figure this out."

his words from that night ring through your head. the way his whole demeanor changed that night into a person you've never seen before.

"d-did you?" you ask with teary eyes.

"baby, look at me. i can explain." he begs you but you start to get up.

"explain what? how you beat up my fucking dad!?" you yelled, trying to grasp the millions of thoughts you had. "h-how could you?" you stand by his door, pacing, with your head in your hands.

he walks up to you, grabbing your hand. "look at me, honey, please. look at me." he begs you, trying to grab your attention.

when you finally turn to him, you see the cuts and bruises again. "rafe, why?" you say with a tear slipping down.

"because i love you, honey. you're my girl and i don't give a fuck who it is, they cannot talk to you the way your own father did. calling you easy, acting like your dumb for being around me. nobody should ever talk to you like that, ever." you stop and he cups your face in his hands. "i just wanted to talk to him, okay? all i wanted to do was talk. but then he started again with how i'm a bad person and how you were being stupid for even acknowledging me. he said he didn't need a guy like me corrupting his daughter and i snapped."

you gazed into his eyes, they looked as though they were pleading with you to see why he did what he did.

"please, say something. please." he states.

you sigh and close your eyes. "rafe, i don't need you going around defending my honor, especially to my dad. it's not worth it."

"not worth it? sweetheart, look at me." you open your eyes. "you are worth everything to me, you hear me? everything. i would kill for you if you asked me to. i never had someone care for me the way you do, have someone listen to me, or even treat me normally. you mean the world to me, y/n. i love you."

and there it was.

rafe cameron, for once in his life, showed affection.

he told someone they love them.

"i'm sorry it was your dad, okay? sometimes, i black out and can't remember things when i'm angry. i act on my impulses. but with you, i never feel that way." he shakes his head, trying to contain all his emotions. your eyes water again, causing him to wipe the tears. "what's wrong, baby? talk to me."

you smile through the tears. "i just, i love you too." no one has ever made you feel so safe and loved in one moment than rafe has this past month. he's all you could ever ask for.

he beams down at you, shaking his head. "you mean that?"

"with every ounce of my body, i love you." you admit.

his heart swelled as he connected your lips once more to his. you were all his, all he ever needed in life to feel whole.

rafe pushes you against the door, a light moan slipping from your lips as he presses himself against you.

"you like that?" he asks, a satisfied smirk on his face as he kisses your cheek and goes down your neck.

you nod under his touch, like you're cast in his spell. "y-yes."

"you want more?" he asks, sucking on one spot of your neck for a long time. all you can do is nod, already becoming a mess because of him. he pulls away, having you almost whimper from the lack of contact. "not uh, baby, gotta hear some words out of that beautiful mouth of yours. i'll repeat myself, do you want more."

"y-yes, rafe, yes please."

he groans at your begging and nods. "good girl." he pulls you over to the bed and guides you toward it. you feel the bed hit the back of your knees and you sit down, looking up at him. he quickly takes his shirt off and tosses it to the side.

he kisses your lips lightly as his hands find the end of your shirt, lightly toying with the fabric. "y-you can take it off." with the reassurance, he slips the top off and leaves it next to you. his eyes take in your body, your breasts pooling out of a flimsy green bralette. he sucks his tongue and gently runs his fingers over your tits.

"so pretty and they're all for me." he slowly reaches behind your back and unclasps the bralette with one hand, letting it fall down your body. you could swear rafe has tiny hearts in his eyes as they bore onto your half-naked body. "lay down." you follow his orders and lay against his pillows. his bedroom light shines over his features and the cuts from the fight. you bring your hand up to touch them and he gives into your touch. "you okay?"

"more than okay." you tell him.

he kisses your hand then his lips meet with yours once again. he then lets his lips trail across your cheek, jaw, neck, and down to your chest. he stares at your tits before peppering them both with kisses. he then takes one nipple in his mouth, slowly, and grabs your other one with your free hand to give a squeeze. your body instantaneously reacts to rafe's touch, moaning at the sensation of his lips. "you like that, huh?" he almost teases, switching to the other nipple.

"m-more." you whisper out, clenching your eyes.

"what was that, honey? need you to speak up for me." he grins.

"please, i want more, rafe. touch me more." you raise your voice.

"you got it." his hand leaves your tit and trails slowly down your body, resting at the hem of your jeans. he unbuttons them and lets his hands slide down your underwear, his hands automatically getting soaked. "shit, baby, all this for me?" he runs ins finger down your cunt and gathering your slick, bringing it to his mouth. he sucks it off his fingers as you watch in awe. "you're just too sweet for me, you know that?"

he doesn't even give you time to think before he puts his fingers back inside you, swirling your cunt. your hands grab his shoulders, holding onto them for dear life. "it's okay, i got ya, i always got ya." he reassures as he slowly slips one finger into your tight hole. "jesus, honey, with a hole this tight i don't know how long i'll last." he says as he slips his finger in and out of you, his thumb still toying with your clit.

your head falls back as more moans fall from your lips. "more, rafe, please give me more."

he laughs slightly. "cocky little thing, aren't ya? if you insist." he adds one more finger, your hole clenching around him as his finger slip in and out. "look how pretty you look with my fingers inside of you." he says before kissing your mouth, collecting your moans. you're so wet you hear the noises your pussy is making around him. you feel overstimulated as rafe keeps going, not stopping once. tears prick your eyes as you feel your high approaching. his thumb rubs harder as your nails connect to rafe's chest, dragging them down. "my pretty baby, i just love you so much." he says, staring at you.

with those words, you feel yourself being pushed to pleasure. you cum all over rafe's fingers, crying out his name. "rafe!"

he lets you ride out your high before taking his fingers out and putting them in his mouth like he did before. "never gonna get tired of that."

he gets up and heads to the bathroom. you want to talk to him, ask him where he's going, but you're too tired. you've never felt this good, not even from your own fingers. rafe comes back with a towel in his hand, gently, he pulls off your shorts and panties, cleaning off your pussy. the water is nice and warm as he gets you situated. he drops the rag and crawls into his bed next to you, holding you tightly.

"you know, if you want me to go dow-" but before you can finish that sentence he kisses your forehead.

"no need to rush there, honey. i wanna take my time with you, wanna show you how good i can make you feel." your heart melts in your chest as he rubs your back lightly. "get some rest, alright?"

you fall asleep fast in his arms, he holds you there the entire night and doesn't plan on letting go.

[tinycoffeeroom]

treat you better | carlos sainz

face claim: none ♡

request: here !

requested: Could I request a Carlos smau where another driver breaks your heart and he’s there to pick up the pieces and make you whole again? Please and thank you ❤️

cw: cheating, bad guy charles, mentions of unwell family members, cursing

a/n: charles and alex i love u guys i promise this is just for the au <3

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November

👤 charles_leclerc liked by fan, fan, and 78,283 others

f1gossip Trouble in paradise for Charles and Y/N? Charles Leclerc was spotted on a long walk on one of Monaco's more secluded islands with a mysterious brunette and his and Y/N's dog, Leo, this weekend. Sources say the pair were often looking to see if there were cameras around, the two of them giggling as they held hands and played with the puppy. Y/N L/N, Charles girlfriend of 2 years, is currently said to be on a trip home to see family, we wonder if the two have broken up or if Charles is back to his old ways?

fan f1gossip tagging charles is so shady i love it

fan when i catch you charles

fan no bc remember when a fan said they met y/n in her hometown and she was visiting her gran bc she's not doing too good? charles u fuckin suck bro ↳ fan wtf really???? oh i hope his tyres stick to the road next race ↳ fan kmag you know what you need to do ↳ fan we put our hopes and prayers in the paddock terror 🙏🙏

fan ok but the girls gorgeous ↳ fan THAT'S YOUR TAKEAWAY FROM THIS? ↳ fan im just saying damn

fan this is not what i meant when i said i wanted silly season to get more interesting

fan *looks around* wow i'm so surprised... not like charles has a bad rep with women or anything

fan i hope y/ns ok... my heart is hurting for her ↳ fan the paddock adore her, charles has got a big storm coming next week

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liked by kellypiquet, carmenmmundt and 25 others

y/npriv my gran is doing so much better (nothing can keep the old girl down), my hometown is still as gorgeous as always and my sister got me a cake :)

kellypiquet my girl :((( i'm so happy your grans ok 🤍 ↳ y/npriv thank u kelly bear 🤍 ↳ kellypiquet did i have to physically hold max back from going after he who shall not be named?? yes... did i consider letting go?? very much so ↳ y/npriv 😭😭 hes not voldemort babe 😭 you should have just let him go ↳ kellypiquet now is that really how you feel? ↳ y/npriv ... no but i wish i did ↳ maxverstappen1 she has to go to sleep at some point, then i shall be free ↳ y/npriv thats so ominous you strange creature (i appreciate you)

carmenmmundt me and george have been keeping your gran in our prayers angel 🩷 ↳ y/npriv i love you carm 🩷 ↳ georgerussell63 and me? ↳ y/npriv i tolerate you :)

flavy.barla esteban nearly joined max ↳ y/npriv love him dearly but este's about as intimidating as a teddy bear ↳ estebanocon ?? hey??? ↳ y/npriv sorry king xo there's a reason your nicknames estie bestie ↳ estebanocon let it DIEEEEE ↳ y/npriv never 🫶

schecoperez I am glad your gran is ok, y/n. Let me or Carola know if you need anything x ↳ y/npriv thank you checo :( give the little ones and carola a big hug from me x ♥️ schecoperez

lilyzneimer he shall d word at my hands ↳ y/npriv i fuckin love you lily

lewishamilton he will never know peace next year. ↳ lewishamilton i am however happy to hear your gran is well x ↳ y/npriv lewis 😭 thank you x

francisca.c.gomes pierre has been shouting at Him on the phone for like an hour... ↳ y/npriv 😭 ... what are they saying ↳ francisca.c.gomes a lot of french and things i don't want delicate eyes (yuki) to read... ↳ y/npriv pierre i appreciate you ↳ pierregasly i'm gonna kill him ↳ y/npriv ok maybe tone it down frenchie

lilymhe alex is setting his zoo on him ↳ y/npriv that's how you know it's serious wow ↳ alex_albon tinky's gonna boot him in the head

sebastianvettel i am very glad to hear your gran is ok, y/n, sending her and you all my love x ↳ y/npriv thank you seb :( miss you x ↳ sebastianvettel come and see us soon! the kids miss you x ↳ y/npriv you got it! x

danielricciardo he's a cunt ↳ danielricciardo and i don't mean that in a nice aussie way ↳ y/npriv DANIEL ↳ oscarpiastri no he's right, in the nasty aussie way, he's a cunt ↳ y/npriv oscar i did not raise you to talk like this ↳ oscarpiastri we are literally like 4 years apart in age... ↳ y/npriv kicking a girl when she's down WOW oscar ↳ oscarpiastri ... i am sorry mother dearest ↳ y/npriv that's better

carlossainz55 hermosa, he may be il predestinato but to me he is carne morta (dead meat) ↳ y/npriv carlos 😭 ↳ carlossainz55 also i'm glad to know your gran is well, send her my love ↳ y/npriv she already fancies you enough as it is ↳ carlossainz55 my plan is working :) ↳ y/npriv what plan? are you seducing my family members??? hiding my mum as we speak ↳ carlossainz55 something like that ;)

yukitsunoda0511 happy to see your gran is ok! and i am sorry about the other thing :((((( ↳ y/npriv yuki my angel you have nothing to be sorry about

kevinmagnussen i know what i have to do ↳ y/npriv kevin NO you're like 2 points away from a race ban!! ↳ kevinmagnussen worth it :) ↳ y/npriv nicohulkenburg pls talk some sense into your teammate ↳ nicohulkenburg unfortunately y/n i too will be joining kevin in his "defense" ↳ y/npriv haas i am so sorry

landonorris i may have done a thing... ↳ y/npriv i am terrified... ↳ landonorris i'll text you :)

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📍Monaco

👤 landonorris, carlossainz55, francisca.c.gomes, kellypiquet, lilymhe, lilynzeimer, flavy.barla, carmenmmundt liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 87,902 others

y/nstagram angel baby, dumb and dumber and my girls 🩷

Comments on this post have been limited

carlossainz55 ... am i dumb or dumber ↳ y/nstagram do you really want to know? 🤨 ↳ carlossainz55 for my own sanity im saying i'm dumb ↳ landonorris why am i dumber????? ↳ carlossainz55 do you really want to know? 🤨

carmenmmundt don't forget about lunch today xx ↳ y/nstagram been looking forward to it since i boarded the plane 🫶

landonorris you're welcome for the lift and the room btw 🙄 ↳ y/nstagram my saviour xx ↳ landonorris and for stealing leo for you ↳ y/nstagram I NEVER ASKED YOU TO STEAL HIM???? 😭 ↳ landonorris well i did because i'm an amazing friend and am willing to sacrifice all my bloody furniture ↳ y/nstagram you leave the baby alone, he was probably stressed :(

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FEBRUARY

(estrellita - little star) (uy, quécarechimba - ugh, that dickhead)

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📍Shanghai

👤 carlossainz55, landonorris liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 89,028 others

y/nstagram did y'all think i would miss the first race week?? ft dumber and roomie x

fan mother has returned!!!!! ♥️ y/nstagram

fan if looks could kill, carlos would be six feet under ... charles was FUMING ↳ fan given the way his girly hid when y/n appeared i would say he has no right to be mad at all ↳ fan if the girl i cheated on rocked up to my teammates garage whilst i was with my side piece i quite frankly would walk onto the track midrace ↳ fan how do we know charles cheated? they've not said anything ↳ fan exactly. if they had been broken up surely they would have put out some sort of announcement to clear things up ????

scuderiaferrari always good to see you in red, y/n ❤️ ↳ y/nstagram FORZA FERRARI SEMPRE!!!!!! 🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎

carlossainz55 i hate this new nickname ↳ y/nstagram what else should i call you? ↳ carlossainz55 yours ↳ fan CARLOS I SAW THAT????????

landonorris i have been demoted from bestie to roomie... this is the thanks i get... ↳ y/nstagram thanks roomie xx btw bins go out on tuesday :)

lewishamilton now you're free of your ferrari obligations, you should come across to mercedes next time ;) ↳ mercedesamgf1 we would love to see you over here y/n! ↳ mclaren um no us next?? ↳ alpinef1team no us!!! ↳ redbullracing come to the winning team :) ↳ scuderiaferrari y/n will always be a ferrari girl, back OFF 🤺🤺🤺 ♥️ carlossainz55

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charles_leclerc added y/nstagram added to their story to their story

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liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 20 others

y/npriv that bitchass man... idk how he thought he was gonna spin that story but not on my watch

oscarpiastri did you really have to use my meme though? ↳ y/npriv yes it was funny and otherwise i was gonna call him a cheating lying bastard on main so 🤷🏻‍♀️ ↳ oscarpiastri understandable, please continue

danielricciardo lando was laughing so hard i think he bust a rib ↳ landonorris it still hurts to breathe but holy shit y/n i love u ↳ y/npriv love u too stink :) also don't forget to pick up leo's food from the shops ↳ landonorris you do know you can text me this stuff? ↳ y/npriv yeah but reminding everyone we're roomies is funny to me

maxverstappen1 walked past ferrari hospitality and fred was PISSED ↳ y/npriv 👀👀 carlossainz55 can you confirm? ↳ carlossainz55 oh, absolutely... i was worried he was going to have a heart attack or something

francisca.c.gomes ok but did he not even think to talk to you first before posting that? it's literally been months ↳ y/npriv apparently not 🙃 texted him about it and suddenly he was sorry ↳ francisca.c.gomes men 🙄 ↳ pierregasly ???? ↳ francisca.c.gomes i stand by what i said ↳ y/npriv yeah is there a problem gasly? ↳ pierregasly no problem at all ma'am, as you were

scuderiaferrari we had no knowledge charles was going to post that. we love you y/n ↳ danielricciardo FERRARI? why are you on y/ns priv? ↳ y/npriv me and the social media intern are besties xx

carlossainz55 estrellita, lets go for dinner, you deserve it ↳ y/npriv 👀 are you paying? ↳ carlossainz55 of course, i am a gentleman ↳ y/npriv pick me up in an hour :)

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liked by fan, fan and 40,718 others

f1gossip Carlos Sainz and Y/N L/N were spotted at dinner last night. The two enjoyed a meal before taking a stroll along the Monaco pier front where, as pictured, the pair were in high spirits. We're happy to see Y/N looking so happy following the revelation that her ex-boyfriend, and Carlos' current F1 teammate, had cheated on her. The two were then joined by Y/N's current roommate and F1 driver, Lando Norris, who then whisked them off to a local nightclub. We continue to send Y/N our support and hope to see more of her happy side.

fan i don't think i've ever seen y/n laugh like that, we love to see it

fan this coupled with the photos of charles and his girly arguing in the paddock 🤭🤭 we know who won the breakup

fan why do i kinda think carlos and y/n would be cute together ↳ fan woah, she's only been broken up with charles for a few months and under really shitty circumstances, she needs time to heal ↳ fan ofc ofc!!! i just mean when she's over ch*rles, the two would make a really good couple

fan happy y/n and happy carlos, my two favourite things ❤️

fan y/ncarlos fans we rise!!! ↳ fan he would treat her so right ↳ fan the entire time she dated That Man, carlos has always been so nice to her, i wonder if he secretly fancied her all along 👀 ↳ fan or maybe he's just a good guy ↳ fan that too 🤷🏻‍♀️

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APRIL

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📍 Australia

liked by y/nstagram, landonorris and 890,274 others

carlossainz55 swipe across to see me and oomf Another Carlando podium! We know what you guys wanna see and we love to deliver! The car drove like a dream today, shame we couldn't get more points but it's always nice to celebrate a great race with some champagne showers!

See 98,072 other comments

fan WHO TAUGHT CARLOS WHAT OOMF WAS??? ↳ fan either lando or y/n 100% 😭

fan CARLANDO PODIUM!!!!!!!!! WE DREAM OF DAYS LIKE THIS

y/nstagram FORZA FERRARI SEMPRE !!! 🐎🐎🐎🐎 congrats winner 🥳 ↳ carlossainz55 i think i was right when i said you would be my good luck charm 😉 ♥️ y/nstagram ↳ fan oh they're so sick for this ↳ fan y/ncarlos'ers we're so winning

charles_leclerc congrats ↳ fan ik for a fact he was forced to comment

landonorris carlando are back baby!! ↳ landonorris also cant believe im either oomf or roomie... ↳ y/nstagram stop leaving your smelly socks in the bathroom and maybe i'll change the nickname ↳ landonorris oh that was mean

fan "shame we couldn't get more points" carlos you shady shady man

fan who else cheered when kmag pulled through and took * out of the race

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liked by carlossainz55, francisca.c.gomes and 21 others

y/npriv oh we eating good tonight

kellypiquet i'm sure we are 👀 ↳ y/npriv KELLY???

landonorris carlos is so sexy ↳ y/npriv real ↳ landonorris back off my man??? ↳ carlossainz55 i'm gonna hold your hand when i say this lando... ↳ landonorris WOOOOOOW.... i see how it is carlos

carlossainz55 gorgeous as always ↳ y/npriv you can't even see my face in that photo carlos 🤣 ↳ carlossainz55 don't need to see you to know you're gorgeous ↳ maxverstappen1 i hate to say it but that was smooth ↳ danielricciardo they don't call him the smooth operator for no reason

scuderiaferrari power (soon to be (fingers crossed)) couple ↳ carlossainz55 😉 ↳ y/npriv not from the main acc damn

francisca.c.gomes need you biblically ↳ y/npriv come here then babe xx ↳ flavy.barla lemme join ↳ y/npriv i got two hands babygirl ↳ oscarpiastri estebanocon pierregasly you gonna let her snatch both your girls? ↳ estebanocon unfortunately there was a clause when they agreed to date us and it was that y/n is wifey, we are simply the Others ↳ pierregasly ^^

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liked by carlossainz55, lilymhe and 25 others

y/npriv decided to put him out of his misery :)

carlossainz55 and who is that sexy man? ↳ y/npriv idk but he keeps speaking spanish to me even though he knows i dont understand it 🙄 ↳ carlossainz55 but do you like it? 👀 ↳ y/npriv i think you know i do x

francisca.c.gomes AND YOU DIDNT UPDATE THE GROUPCHAT??????? ↳ lilymhe FR!!!! I LITERALLY SAID TELL US AFTER YOU KISS HIM ↳ y/npriv SHUT UP RN ↳ carlossainz55 no do go on ↳ lilymhe what happens in the y/n gf's gc, stays in the y/n gf's gc

carlossainz55 estás muy guapa, vuelve a la cama cariño ❤️ (you look so pretty, come back to bed sweetheart) ↳ maxverstappen1 we have the translate function on ig you horndog ↳ y/npriv don't be mad i snatched ur man ↳ maxverstappen1 ... he'll never forget the redbull days

landonorris RUE WHEN WAS THIS?????? ↳ y/npriv hiiiii lando... um so.... 🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️ ↳ landonorris GET BACK HERE U RAT EXPLAIN YOURSELF ↳ landonorris carlossainz55 WHAT ARE U DOING WITH MY ROOMIE ???? ↳ carlossainz55 i mean i could tell you but instagram does have guidelines ↳ landonorris ew ew ew that's so gross i dont even wanna know ↳ landonorris happy for you guys or whatever but ew never tell me anything remotely sexual about y/n or i will vom ↳ y/npriv lando wtf???? ↳ landonorris you're like my annoying sister i'd have to remove my skinsuit if carlos opens his fat mouth ↳ carlossainz55 hey? ↳ y/npriv you're so fuckin weird ily

danielricciardo HE SHOOTS, HE SCORES!!!! ↳ carlossainz55 you were right, they don't call me the smooth operator for no reason ↳ y/npriv you were literally giggling and kicking your feet after i kissed you ↳ carlossainz55 y/n :(((( my reputation :((((((

lilyzneimer wait do was taking the photos? ↳ y/npriv ... self timer ↳ lilyzneimer down horrifically bad wow

scuderiaferrari OH Y/NCARLOS'ERS WE WON!!!!! ↳ y/npriv admin 😭 not u too ↳ scuderiaferrari not even sorry i've been WAITING for this one!!!

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liked by francisca.c.gomes, fan and 30,892 others

f1gossip A surprise twist in the Charles and Y/N drama? Following Sainz's back to back victory in Australia and then Silverstone, Y/N and Carlos shared what looks like a loving kiss. Eagle eyed fans then spotted Charles on camera arguing with a Ferrari employee in the garages following the Y/NCarlos moment. Finally, Carlos was spotted outside where he was soon joined by Y/N, the two leaving the circuit hand in hand. It is noted Charles' new beau was nowhere to be seen.

fan Y/NCARLOS'ERS WE SO WON!!!! ♥️ 10,829 others

fan she upgraded wowow

fan charles throwing a hissy fit was so funny i was cackling watching it

fan kika in the likes... what do you know queen? ♥️ francisca.c.gomes

user not her being a homie hopper 🤢 ↳ carlossainz55 can't be a homie hopper if we're not homies :) ↳ fan CARLOS????? ↳ fan oh he ate them up ↳ fan carlos has not been fucking with ch*rles for a WHILE, even before all the drama

fan y/n's face... she looked so happy my heart is so full ❤️

fan queen y/n we trust your judgement

fan ik the entire grid is cheering rn

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📍 England

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 105,018 others

y/nstagram carlando podium again!!! anything else interesting happen at Silverstone? :)

fan the carlando bears 😭 her boyfriend(?) and bestie 😭 ↳ landonorris roomie* ↳ y/nstagram you love me shut up

fan she's so unbothered im giggling

francisca.c.gomes the last slide... ↳ y/nstagram don't worry baby, he was just dropping me off for our date x ↳ carlossainz55 all i am to you is a glorified taxi driver

landonorris couldn't even post a photo of me for my podium... see how it is ↳ y/nstagram don't want your ugly mug messing up my feed ↳ y/nstagram also grey bin needs to go out on tuesday ↳ landonorris you're on bin duty this week? ↳ y/nstagram actually i'm gonna be on a boat in spain soooo ↳ landonorris i hope y'all break up ↳ fan LANDO ? ↳ y/nstagram he's joking dw he did the whole "big brother" speech with carlos, was kinda funny knowing carlos would flatten him in 2 seconds flat ↳ landonorris oh now i really hope y'all break up

fan y/n please we know you have bf carlos pics... i only ask for one thing ↳ y/nstagram i'll post some soon x ↳ fan the most unserious soft/hard launch

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👤 carlossainz55 liked by carlossainz55, lilyzneimer and 98,017 others

y/nstagram my boyfriends so hot, do you guys mind if i chew on him a lil?

carlossainz55 please don't chew me??? ↳ y/nstagram it's internet sla- never mind, ok mr sainz

fan her captions are always so real i love her

fan unhinged y/n is back, we missed you best friend ♥️ y/nstagram

scuderiaferrari HARD LAUNCH HARD LAUNCH HARD LAUNCH LETS GO Y/NCARLOS'ERS!!!! ↳ y/nstagram i love u admin ❤️ ↳ scuderiaferrari our ferrari girl, forever ❤️

landonorris i hate this ↳ fan your ex and your roomie 😔 ↳ landonorris you get it 😔 ↳ carlossainz55 stop calling me your ex 🙄 ↳ landonorris you dare deny the love we shared?

francisca.c.gomes never mind him, can i chew on you a lil? ↳ kellypiquet ^ ↳ lilymhe ^ ↳ lilyzneimer ^ ↳ flavy.barla ^ ↳ carmenmmundt ^ ↳ y/nstagram everyone grab a limb x ↳ carlossainz55 please don't chew my girlfriend

fan thank you for the pic y/n! sorry for interrupting your holiday 🥺 ↳ y/nstagram don't be silly!! it was lovely to meet you <333 dont forget to send me the link to the dress!! ↳ fan on it!! ↳ fan omg how was it meeting them? ↳ fan they're honestly so sweet, they were just holding hands and walking around and carlos was yapping away and the way y/n was looking at him 🥺 they're endgame fr ↳ fan could actually cry?? ↳ fan also when they were on the beach, carlos twirled her around and they started dancing to the music playing from a nearby bar... it was actually like a movie scene 😭😭

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👤 y/nstagram liked by y/nstagram, scuderiaferrari and 505,287 others

carlossainz55 dicen que ver una estrella fugaz da buena suerte, y tenían razón, mi estrellita ❤️ (they say seeing a shooting star is good luck, and they were right, my little star)

See 198,017 other comments

francisca.c.gomes that first picture... i love my girlfriend ↳ carlossainz55 can't even have peace on my own hard launch ↳ francisca.c.gomes you snatched y/n from her girlfriends, you will never know peace.

fan he bagged a baddie wowow

fan the caption??? oh hes in LOVE ♥️ carlossainz55

y/nstagram 🥺 carlos..i'm so grateful to have you in my life ❤️ ↳ carlossainz55 i am the one who's grateful ❤️

scuderiaferrari heyyy y/n *with rizz* ↳ carlossainz55 even my own teams admin wow... ↳ scuderiaferrari not my fault your girlfriends hot

user homie hopper ↳ carlossainz55 eat glass :) ↳ y/nstagram CARLOS ↳ scuderiaferrari we love that you're happy but please carlos this is still your official account

lilymhe y/n i could treat you so much better ↳ carlossainz55 back off i've waited years for this ↳ y/nstagram YEARS??? ↳ carlossainz55... 🏃🏻‍♂️🏃🏻‍♂️🏃🏻‍♂️ ↳ y/nstagram you're literally sat right next to me ... ↳ y/nstagram he just got up and ran away... ↳ fan this is so fucking funny sddjsdhdk ↳ landonorris danielricciardo what was that about him being a smooth operator? ↳ danielricciardo hes also fucking dumb

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a/n: hope everyone enjoys! i am working hard on part 2 of girlfriend of the enemy so we can have some happy charles <3 also 2-3 posts in one week who AM I? (i'm gonna be busy w work so i'm trying to give u guys some food in case i have to disappear)

[rafecameronssl4t]

hey! could u do a rafe x reader with kinda the grumpy and sunshine/ mean to everyone but me trope? like the reader is super girly and a total sweetheart like wouldn’t hurt a fly and no one expected rafe to be able to pull her? maybe like other guys have made moves on her but for some reason she only wants him

Untouchable || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: THANK U FOR THE REQUEST!!!!! (the gif above is what I envision Rafe's appearance to be in this fic)

Warnings: none :)

Word count: 1,178

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

"Oh look, Rafe's here," Chelsea leans in to whisper to all of you girls. All heads turn to where she is subtly pointing. Rafe Cameron, with his buzzed hair and brooding expression, strides through the country club, his presence commanding attention.

You can't help but notice how your friends’ eyes widen, their expressions a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Kaycee sighs, shaking her head. "It's such a shame he's so grumpy and mean all the time. He's good-looking, but that attitude just ruins everything."

A few of the girls agree with her words, their eyes still on Rafe. You're about to respond when you catch Rafe’s gaze from across the club. His intense blue eyes lock onto yours, and to your surprise, he starts walking toward your table. Your friends' chatter fades into the background as he approaches, and you can feel the tension rising.

"Guys?" Kaycee whisper yells, her eyes darting nervously between you and Rafe. Before you can answer, Rafe is standing beside you. Without a word, he wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close.

Your friends silently watch as he plants a soft kiss on your lips. The world seems to pause for a moment, the only sound your heart pounding in your chest. When he finally pulls away, he gives you a smile that’s reserved just for you. "Hey, babe," he says, his voice low and intimate. You smile back, feeling a warmth spread through you. "Hey, Rafe."

Your friends are staring, their mouths open in shock. Kaycee looks like she might faint, and Chelsea's eyes are so wide they might pop out of her head. You can practically hear their thoughts racing. "Hi ladies," Rafe nods his head to your friends as they all stumble across a response.

Rafe chuckles, clearly enjoying the reaction. "I'll see you later yeah?" he murmurs as you hum in response, giving you one last squeeze before heading to his own table. As he walks away, your friends erupt into a flurry of whispers and exclamations. "Are you serious?" Lily asks, her voice a mix of disbelief and excitement. "You and Rafe Cameron?"

You shrug, attempting to play it cool but failing miserably. "Yeah, we've been seeing each other for a while now." Kaycee shakes her head, still in shock. "I can't believe you didn't tell us! All this time, we thought you were just committed to your single streak."

Jada's eyes practically sparkle with excitement. "Not gonna lie, I've been rooting for you two since our days at Kook Academy." You laugh. Across the club, you see Rafe sitting with his friends, who are equally stunned by what they just saw. They keep glancing over at you, clearly trying to piece together how their friend who was notorious for not doing relationships end up with you.

Rafe catches your eye and gives you a wink, his usual grumpiness replaced with a rare, genuine smile as you smile back.

~

As Rafe walks away from your table, the whispers and gasps of your friends gradually fade into the background. You watch him stride confidently across the pool area, his usual brooding expression softened by a small, private smile. He reaches his table, where his friends are already in various states of shock and confusion.

Kelce is the first to speak, his voice a mix of disbelief and curiosity. "Dude, what was that?" He leans forward, his eyes wide with surprise. "You're telling me you bagged Y/n Y/l/n?"

Rafe drops into his seat and picks up his drink, taking a long sip before answering. "Yeah, we’ve been together for a while now." His tone is casual, but you can see the satisfaction in his eyes as he lets the news sink in.

Topper, who has been silent until now, finally finds his voice. "How the hell did that happen?" he asks, still staring at Rafe as if he's grown a second head. "She’s turned down just about everyone on this island who’s tried, and that includes me!"

Rafe chuckles, clearly enjoying the attention. "That's just cause you guys aren't me" he says with a cocky smirk. "Or maybe I just didn’t give up." The table falls silent for a moment as his friends process this new information. Then, one by one, they start to bombard him with questions.

"How long have you been seeing her?" asks Kelce, still trying to wrap his head around the idea. "Why didn’t you tell us?" adds Topper, his tone a mix of hurt and curiosity. "And how did you even get her to go out with you?" another friend chimes in.

Rafe leans back in his chair, his demeanor relaxed and confident. "We’ve been seeing each other for a couple of months now," he begins, glancing over at you with a soft smile. "I didn’t tell you guys because we wanted to keep it private. Didn’t want everyone in our business, you know?"

Topper raises an eyebrow. "And how did you manage to win her over? She’s not exactly known for giving people a chance." Rafe laughs, a deep, genuine sound that surprises even himself. "Honestly, it wasn’t that hard," he admits with a grin.

"I had my eyes on her for a while. She’s smart and doesn’t put up with any bullshit. 'S what I like about her." He glances over at you again, mesmerised by how radiant you looked, giggling at something your friend said.

His friends exchange looks, a mix of admiration and incredulity on their faces. It’s clear they’re seeing a side of Rafe they never knew existed. "Wow, man," says Kelce, shaking his head with a grin. "I never thought I’d see the day when Rafe Cameron is all soft and in love." Rafe playfully rolls his eyes, "You guys are idiots."

Topper claps Rafe on the shoulder, a wide grin on his face. "Good for you, dude. Seriously. If anyone can handle your grumpy ass, it’s her." Rafe laughs again, the sound blending into the ambient noise of the country club. He glances back over at you, catching your eye once more. You smile at him, a warmth spreading through your chest as you see the genuine happiness in his eyes.

[dollishmehrayan]

# “HOLD UP, POSE!” ── .✦ ( model!reader x batboys s/o kinda requested ˚⟡˖ )

a/n: so sorry for the break and how i traumatized half of you guys with my rant (if I suffer you gonna do too && let’s move on now ) and it’s lowkeyy funny ngl but omgg, I’m finally back though soo yeah but I’m finally taking requests again for a bit too so about that yeah and also make sure to go vote on the poll, we’re at 600+ votes already for my 1k event!! Tags: (batboys x model!reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Your biggest fan, no contest. He has a folder on his phone labeled “My Gorgeous Girl” filled with all your magazine covers, runway shots, and candid photos he’s sneakily taken of you (even the ones where you’re eating pizza in sweats).

Loves to drop the fact that you’re a model into conversations. Someone says something even remotely related, and Dick is like, “Oh, that reminds me of the time yn walked for Valentino. She looked stunning. Anyway, how’s your dog?”

Flirty but lowkey jealous. He’s all smiles at your shoots, but if a photographer or fellow model gets a little too friendly, he’ll sidle up behind you, wrap an arm around your waist, and casually go, “Hey, babe, everything good here?”

Runs your fan page in secret. He denies it every time, but you know it’s him posting like archive photos of you? with captions like, “Truly the most breathtaking woman alive.”

Always hypes you up. You’re stressing before a runway show? He’s holding your hands, looking you dead in the eyes, and saying, “You’re going to kill it, just like always. They’re not ready for you.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Pretends not to care, but he’s secretly obsessed. You’ll catch him flipping through your magazines with a bored expression, but the dog-eared pages of all your spreads say otherwise.

Gets grumpy when he has to share you with the world. “Do you really have to fly to Milan again? Can’t they get someone else to wear the fancy coat?” But he’s the first one to text you after your show with a “You looked amazing. Miss you, though.”

Always lurking at your events. He doesn’t do red carpets, but you’ll spot him in the back of the after-party, leaning against a wall with a drink in hand, watching you like you’re the only person in the room.

Jealous but funny about it. If a male model gets paired with you for a shoot, Jason will grumble, “You know I could wear that suit better, right?”

Says he doesn’t care about fashion but definitely critiques it. “They put you in that? Really? That’s what they think is high fashion?” (Meanwhile, he still owns a leather jacket he’s had since he was 17.)

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

The low-key proud boyfriend. Tim doesn’t brag about you… unless someone else brings it up. Then it’s a full PowerPoint presentation: “Oh, you didn’t know she walked the Paris Fashion Week finale? Let me show you.”, “it’s not that serious Tim.”

Forgets how famous you are sometimes. He’s so focused on his work that when he accompanies you to an event, he’s always surprised when people scream your name. “Wow, they’re… really excited to see you, huh?”

Pretends to be chill but panics at your shoots. If you’re wearing something too revealing, Tim’s sitting in the corner like, “Does she really need to wear that? I mean, it’s fashion, I guess, but still…”

Shows up to all your shows with coffee. He knows your schedule can be brutal, so he always has your favorite drink ready and a warm smile. “Long day, huh? Here, you’ve earned this.”

Accidentally goes viral as your boyfriend. Someone snaps a picture of him holding your bag while you’re doing a fitting, and now he’s trending as “hot model’s mystery man.” Or “Drake Spotted With L/N?”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Thinks modeling is beneath you. Not because he doesn’t support you, but because he genuinely thinks you’re too good for it. “Tt. Why waste your time parading around in someone else’s designs when you could rule the world instead?”

Still shows up to your shows like a proud dad. He won’t admit it, but he’s ridiculously proud of you. He’ll sit front row, arms crossed, looking annoyed until you walk out. Then his face softens, and he claps (but only once).

Hates everyone in the industry. Photographers, stylists, agents—he side-eyes them all. “Do they have to touch you so much?”

Quietly supportive in his own way. You come home exhausted, and he’s already brewed your favorite tea and laid out your comfiest pajamas. “You should rest. You’ve worked hard enough today.”

Keeps all your clippings. You find a scrapbook in his study filled with your covers, tear sheets, and event photos. When you ask him about it, he just mutters, “I didn’t want them getting lost.” And even keeps some fan letters that you keep or lost along the way.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Thinks it’s “adorable.” Bruce can’t help but chuckle whenever you mention your modeling career. “You really enjoy this, don’t you?” But he’s not teasing he genuinely admires how passionate you are.

Surprisingly knowledgeable about fashion. He knows every major designer, can spot couture from a mile away, and will occasionally surprise you by saying things like, “That’s Galliano, isn’t it? From the ‘06 collection?”

Makes every event feel like a power couple moment. When you walk a red carpet together, it’s like the world collectively gasps. He keeps his hand on your back, whispers sweet nothings, and makes sure you’re the center of attention.

Defends your career to anyone who dares question it. Someone makes a snide remark about modeling being “shallow,” and Bruce immediately shuts them down with, “Actually, it’s an incredibly demanding profession that requires both discipline and skill. You should try it sometime.”

Buys your agency. You’re stressed about a bad contract or a difficult agent? Suddenly, Wayne Enterprises owns the company, and Bruce is like, “Problem solved. You can thank me later.”

[elliee3e]

‘pretty when you cry’

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ ‘old’ logan howlett x crybaby f! reader

‘don’t say you need me if, you live last, you're leaving —

i can't do it, but you do it best

‘cause i’m pretty when i cry’ — pretty when you cry - lana del rey

summary ;

basically just old man logan & his lil crybaby girl<3

content warnings ;

light ddlg if you squint, piv, size difference, age play/younger & smaller reader implied, corruption kink, oral sex (f receiving), slight overstimulation

old man logan, who both loves and hates having his sweet girl crumble in his arms.

by now, he feels like the only thing he’s good for is ruining. killing. tainting. that’s what he did with you, tainted your damn innocence. and now he hates how big he is compared to you, hates how he always feels like he has to hold back in fear of hurting you, hates how he tries to be gentle with you because you always end up crying in his arms no matter what.

he could be between your spread thighs, scruff brushing against your inner thighs as his tongue works against your heated core, sucking onto your clit whilst you completely crumble — thighs squeezing and trembling around his head, sniffles, whimpers and broken moans leaving your parted lips, tears starting to drip down your cheeks as you pant, the sight making logan pull away as he looks up at you from his glasses, that by now had slipped to the bridge of his nose that you always so badly wanted to kiss.

“baby, baby— hey, look at me darlin’..” he would croon, your sweet taste still clinging onto his tongue as he shifted up to grab your face, watching your pretty glazed eyes full of tears for him: looking up at him. “l-lo..” you would sniffle, voice no more than a broken whimper and it tugged at his heart.

“did i do something wrong? was it too much?” his gruff voice, laced with worry — asked. and god, yes, it was too much: but in the best way possible. you just didn’t know how to explain that you couldn’t help the tears that would take over you when something felt too good.

“n-nothing wrong, lo— just.. just a lot..” you would huff, stomach fluttering as logan would sigh at your words: bringing up a rough thumb to swipe your salty tears away: the other gently tugging your panties back up. “damn it, darlin’. givin’ me a damn heart attack everytime you sob like that, makes me feel like i hurt ya.”

“c’mon. let’s just lay together for a while. probably be better for ya, sweet thing.”

old man logan, who, after a while, would begin to understand that his girl just couldn’t help her pretty tears and sobs. it was a part of her that only he got to see after all, and that’s what made it special.

he began to love having that power over you. loved having the ability to be fucking into you, pretty legs wrapped around his hips perfectly, nails scratching along his shoulders and back where you could reach, your desperate moans mingled with choked sobs ricocheting off the apartment walls — your nails leaving cat like scratches that started to heal in a short while as they weren’t deep wounds — but they still made him groan. one of his hands, the one not on your waist to keep a steady grip on you, moving up to grab your small wrist to stop you; his hand wrapping around it no problem. “easy, baby. i’m tryna be gentle here, but you’re really pushin’ it.” he would grunt, bringing your wrist down up next to your head, easily using that for leverage to keep on his slow and deep pace into you.

“gosh, darlin’, don’t go cryin’ for me right now..” he would groan, watching as you sobbed even more, trying to slow his pace more than it already was to scoop you up into his arms, keeping your smaller body cradled in them as he soothed your sobs with gentle ‘shh’s’ — hips still fucking into yours at a steady pace, just enough to have you trembling under him and for your cries to choke up in your throat with pretty moans, a familiar heat starting to build up in your lower tummy as it made your walls flutter around his thick cock. “uh— mmph, gonna.. gonna cum, lo—“ you would whimper, small hands squirming under his bigger ones, his grip only getting tighter on your soft wrists.

“that right? my baby’s gonna cum for me? gonna cum all over my cock like the sweet girl she is?” logan would grunt, using the best of his force to fuck into you just enough to find your little gummy spot, the one that sent shivers through your small body and made you let out a sob that broke off into a moan as you felt your orgasm quickly take over — hips trembling under his, sweet pussy squeezing around his cock as much as it could as your juices leaked onto him.

“fuck, doll.” he would huff, glancing down and pulling out just enough to see your pretty pussy — flushed and dripping for him, your sniffled cries filling the room once more as you tried to recover.

“gonna be a good girl and finish me off now too?”

[shouyuus]

─── Ⅵ CHAPTER TWO: FISTS TO A KNIFE FIGHT

violet; 5,021 words; fluff, drama, brief depiction of violence (vi kicks ass), fake dating, hockey!vi, figure skater!reader, powder being hilarious, patching up injuries trope, wlw pining, mel is a badass, platonic gym soulmates jaycevi, no "y/n"

summary: in which both you and vi are suffering about each other, and you friends/fam try to help to varying degrees of success.

a/n: here it is !!! chapter two :) i hope everyone enjoys and that you're having a SMASHING beginning to your 202THRIVE. i truly had the best time writing powder in this chapter and i hope u guys love her just as much as i do u__u

< table of contents

─── Ⅵ "HASN'T IT ONLY BEEN LIKE… three weeks since —”

“Yes Powder, it’s only been three weeks since Cait and I broke up —”

“I mean, for the record, I never liked her —”

“Yes, you made that abundantly clear even when we were dating —”

“She was a stuck-up little horse-shoe crab with a weird obsession with turtlenecks and I mean, that always felt like a red flag to me —”

“Powder. Focus.”

“Oops — sorry,” Powder giggles, “what were you saying again? Something about a hot figure skater girl who’s tryna be your girlfriend?”

Vi sighs, adjusting her phone, propped up against a stack of pillows as she lazes in bed, her cheek pillowed on her crossed arms as she watches Powder fiddle with something or other through the screen.

“Trying to be my fake girlfriend,” Vi corrects.

Powder lifts up her goggles, “Oh, I like this one better already. So? What’s the issue?”

Vi groans, burying her face in her arms, “The issue is that…” she flips onto her back, staring at the faint Christmas lights strung up around her room, the soft diffuse lighting making her pause. She thinks back to the look of you on that kitchen floor, the way your eyes had lit up when you laughed, how your lips had tasted — sweet and intoxicating — against hers.

“I feel like… parts of her remind me of — of Cait.”

“Gee Wilikers, so you've gotta thing for ice queens that make questionable fashion decisions — please sis, this is not news. Not to me, not to Vander, not to the lady down the street who always tries to give us soggy croissants —”

Vi frowns, “What do you mean? And those croissants were just a little buttery —”

“Sweet god — you remember that one chick you were head over heels for when we were kids?”

Vi only frowns harder at the ceiling lights.

“You… mean the one with the long hair and —”

“Yes, the one you said looked like she could ruin your life?”

Vi makes a noncommittal noise, heat washing into her cheeks at the memory.

“I mean,” Vi muses, “she kinda did.”

Powder sighs, “Sis, we were twelve. Whatever. And then there was the basketball captain during your senior year —”

“She was like the hottest chick I’d ever seen up until that point!”

“Uh-huh — she also unironically wore crocs when she wasn’t on the court —”

“Hey, those shoes are comfortable —”

“They’re an affront to fashion and we both know it. But anyway — point being — why’re you acting surprised that you’re once again falling for someone that is A, fantastically talented at a thing, and B probably has mommy-issues up the wazoo?”

Vi swallows, the memory of your laughter ringing through her like church bells on a Sunday morning. She whines, tossing an arm over her eyes.

Powder laughs.

“Ohhh, I know that sound.”

“What sound?” Vi flips back over, squinting at her sister from her cracked phone screen.

Powder smirks, flipping an L-wrench between her fingers before pointing the straight end at Vi.

“The sound of a woman being completely and utterly pussy-whipped.”

Vi squawks, shooting up on her bed, frowning down at her phone.

“I — I am not pussy-whipped!”

Powder shrugs, dropping her eyes back onto her project, “Say what you will, but this is exactly what you sounded like when you first had a crush on that weird, turtleneck-loving mongoose —”

“What is it with you and turtlenecks? And I thought she was a horseshoe-crab? Now she’s a mongoose? They’re not even remotely similar —”

“Evil can come in all shapes and sizes —”

“She’s not evil —”

“Tell that to all her turtlenecks —”

“Okay, no what is it with you and turtlenecks —”

“I dunno! It’s just a vibe-thing, okay?” Powder drops her L-wrench and gestures towards the screen, her eyes wide even as Vi stares, nonplussed as her younger sister motions vaguely into the ether, “Like… what’s she tryna hide behind all those high necklines? And what does she have against the art and perfection that is the human collarbone — I mean —”

Vi nearly throws her phone across the room. She settles for screaming into her pillow instead.

Powder laughs, dusting off her hands and shrugging.

“All I’m saying is — this new girl, whoever she is — sounds like a better deal already.”

“How could you possibly know that? You know nothing about her.”

Powder hitches an eyebrow, “I know that she pretended to be your new girlfriend in front of horseshoe-crab-mongoose and her new button-cap mushroom of a sidepiece.”

“Button-cap — sidep— what the fuck —?”

Powder waggles her fingers, “Evil in all shapes, remember?”

Vi lets out another exasperated groan, “This was pointless —”

“It wasn’t! You just have to take her out on a date!”

“What?”

“You. Take skater-girl. On a date.”

Vi stares.

“B-but I can’t do that.”

“And… why not?” Powder tilts her head so far to the right she’s almost at 90-degrees with the camera.

Vi huffs out a breath, “Cause… the whole campus thinks we’re actually dating. So it’d be weird —”

“For you to take your fake girlfriend on a real date?”

“Exactly!” A pause. “Wait —”

Powder cackles, waving her hand.

“Lemme know how the date goes, sis! Oh! And try not fuck this one up, yeah? Wouldn’t want the whole campus to know that you fumbled an Olympic athlete, hm? Kay, love ya, bye!”

The Facetime call drops, and Vi’s left staring at a too-close image of her own bewildered face, her eyes wide, her mouth hanging open. She blinks at her own reflection for a few more seconds before the screen fades to black and she’s left with nothing but the silence of her own room to keep her company.

She slumps back against the wall, kneading her eyes with the heels of her hands as she runs over Powder’s words.

Take your fake girlfriend on a real date.

But she can’t quite tamp down the strange giddiness that rises beneath her ribs at the thought.

She almost jumps out of her skin as her phone lights up again and she scrabbles at it, flicking it open only to see a single line of text from Jayce —

mel wants to talk.

“I don’t want to waste anyone’s time here so —” Mel laces her fingers on the cafeteria table, looking down the bridge of button nose as if she were interviewing a candidate for a consulate seat, not tucked into a far corner of the dining commons on a busy Thursday night.

Vi blinks, “Wow, not one for smalltalk, huh? And here I was hoping that we could chat about the weather or something.”

She glances at Jayce, who only throws her a helpless sort of shrug.

Mel ignores them both, her eyes sharp as she looks Vi over.

“What are your intentions with my friend?”

Vi’s eyebrows shoot up as she sputters, “M-my intentions?” Her gaze slingshots over to Jayce once more, and this time, he has the decency to look just a bit sheepish.

Mel’s cocks her head, clearly waiting. Vi sputters.

“W-what d’you — your friend was the one that came onto me —”

“She saved you from what looked like a terribly uncomfortable conversation with your ex,” Mel says, her tone so smooth and certain that for a second, Vi pauses to wonder if she might actually be able to simply speak things into existence with nothing but her conviction in her own words.

“She announced to nearly the whole school that we were dating!”

Mel sighs, “Yes, which is why I’m asking you — what are your intentions with her?”

Vi stares, heat now beginning to eat up the back of her neck ,”Well up until that happened, I didn’t have any intentions with her —”

“So now you do?” Mel’s voice is sharp.

Vi groans, throwing up her hands, “What? No! I mean —” she runs a hand through her hair, “I don’t know!”

Jayce leans forward, “Look, Vi — what Mel’s trying to say is —”

“I’ve never seen her like this before.”

Vi goes still. Jayce sighs.

“What… do you mean?”

Mel lets out a long breath, and for the first time, her flawless exterior cracks ever so slightly as she leans back, folding her arms across her chest.

“Ever since that party, she’s been… distracted. And her routine’s suffering because of it —”

Vi lets out an incredulous laugh, “You’re raking me over the coals because her little figure skating routine isn’t going well? Alright, I’m outta here —”

Vi tries to stand up, but Mel’s hand shoots out, quick as a flash, and when she catches Vi’s wrist, her grip is startlingly strong. Vi grunts, her arm jerking back as she glares at Mel.

“You don’t understand,” Mel says, and there’s a quiver like a hairline fracture in the low thrum of her voice that makes Vi pause, “She’s… she’s not as strong as people think she is —”

Vi scoffs, “Not sure that’s the word I’d use but —”

Mel shakes her head, “I know what people say about her, that she’s frigid — the ice princess, right? But I’ve known her since we were kids — she’s not like that.”

Mel’s voice softens, and Vi sinks back into her seat, watching as Mel pulls back her hand.

“She’s just… passionate and a bit naive —”

“Tch, really.” Vi rolls her eyes, but she can’t help the grin that threatens her lips at the memory of you, admitting to her on the kitchen floor of the party that you’re ‘not the best with impulsivity’, the soft noise you’d made at the back of your throat when she’d kissed you, how soft your skin had been beneath the hem of that wet dream of a dress —

“— this sport’s been her whole life,” Mel says, fixing Vi with an imploring look, “and whatever you did or didn’t say or do to her at that party… it’s got her in her head. And she’s not the type to fall in love easily —”

“Whoa, whoa, it was one kiss —” Vi balks at the word ‘love’ but Mel only pushes on, her voice once more taking on it’s lacquer-like shine, her eyes dark as a moonless night —

“I’m just asking you to please think about what you want out of this because…” she lets out a breath, leaning back once more, “it might’ve been just one kiss to you. But it sure as hell wasn’t just that for her.”

This is starting to get ridiculous, you think, for the fourth night in a row, sitting up in bed and glancing at the small LED clock currently blinking 12:38AM at you in a traitorous red light. You groan, scraping your nails against your scalp as you slump back into your blankets.

Moonlight pools cool and silver over your sheets, slit into slivers by the half-closed blinds.

You take a deep breath and try to clear your mind, but seven minutes later, you’re jerking back the covers to rummage around for a pair of running shorts and a sweater.

Ten minutes after that, you set off on your normal jogging route, one earbud thumping an upbeat EDM song as you let your thoughts wander. It’d been one week since the sorority party and the kiss in the kitchen. One week since Vi had nearly run out of that kitchen, looking as if she were about to be sick.

Your stomach churns. Were you really that terrible at kissing? It didn’t seem like she was having a bad time — warmth coils in the pit of your belly even as you try desperately to tamp down the electric tingle of desire that shoots up your spine every time you let your mind wander near the memory.

It’d been one hell of a kiss. But what you remembered most was the way Vi’s expression had broken open with laughter as she’d sat next to you, calling you princess, telling you that she was impressed. How bewildered she’d looked the second before you kissed her, how she’d moaned low and long when you ran your tongue across her lips. How she’d opened her mouth and let you in.

“Oh shit —” your foot catches on a small crack in the pavement and you stumble forward a few steps, catching yourself before you actually hit the ground.

“You alright there, darlin’?” a slimy voice calls from somewhere behind you, and you whip around to find a group of three men sauntering towards you, cigarette butts and empty beer cans scattered around their feet as they push up from the stoop they’d been loitering on.

“Uh yeah — fine. Thanks,” you say, taking a few steps back, quickly taking stock of your surroundings. It’s only a few minutes passed 1AM on a Saturday night, but the street you’re on is quiet, a small by-way between two residential neighborhoods, the row of houses to your right look foreclosured, their windows dark and boarded up, the low hedges in front of them overgrown and ill-watered.

“You sure? Don’t need a hand with nothin’?” Another one of the men asks, smirking as they advance on you, looking you up and down, their gazes nothing short of salacious. The third man chuckles, pulling a tiny switchblade out of his pocket.

“C’mon, dollface,” the first one says, opening his hands, “wanna keep us company for a little while? Promise we’ll show you a good time.”

Ice seizes your veins as you try to calculate how long it’d take for you to sprint to the nearest house that might have someone living in it. You stumble back half a step, ready to take off when a smear of red flashes by you and a sharp crunch sounds before one of the guys is skidding across the pavement, knocked out cold.

“The fuck —” the second man gapes at the red-hooded figure for a breath before he dives for them. But the figure’s too quick, ducking under his arm and catching him with a solid punch to the stomach that sends him reeling.

But as they pull back, the red hood slips off to reveal a shock of bright pink hair.

“V-Vi?!”

You squeak, jumping back as she turns towards the third guy, his face split in a nasty snarl, the switchblade glinting dangerously in his hand. Vi eyes the blade in his hand for a second before smirking, cocking her head.

“C’mon big guy — you wanna see how that ends?”

The man hesitates for half a second before yelling and swinging wide, but Vi’s fist connects with his jaw and he tips backwards, just as one of his friends is staggering back onto his feet, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, his eyes wild as he dives for Vi from behind.

You scream.

“Vi! Lookout!”

Vi’s elbow jerks back just in time to catch him in the chest, but he still manages to skim his fist along Vi’s cheek, and the impact jerks her head back. You let out another abortive shout as the knife-wielding man manages to catch Vi around the middle, grappling her even as she kicks out, her foot catching his friend on the chin and sending him to the ground again.

You look around frantically, eyes catching on a broken tree branch caught in one of the rusting fences — you scramble over and pull it free, heaving the surprisingly heavy branch behind you and swinging your whole body weight into it as you bring it crunching down onto switchblade’s calf.

He lets out a shout of pain, dropping to one knee, his grip loosening just enough for Vi to jerk her head back, butting him in the chin with her skull.

Dark red blood spills from his lips as Vi rips out of his arms and grabs for your hand.

You drop the branch and let Vi tug you behind her, the pair of you sprinting off till you reach the nearest through-street, the baseline thrum of car engines a welcome relief from the eerie quiet.

“What the hell were you doing out here so late?” Vi asks, rounding on you, even as her own chest heaves with the exertion.

You straighten up, pressing a palm to your stomach to stem the stitch twisting in your side.

“I — I was on a jog!”

“At —” Vi checks her phone, “1:17 in the morning?!”

You scowl, “I couldn’t sleep so I was trying to clear my head!”

“You know there are treadmills in our gym right? The gym that’s open twenty-four hours —”

“It’s not the same! And —” you cut off abruptly, slamming your mouth shut, your teeth worrying at your bottom lip.

“And what? God, holy shit — what were you gonna do if I didn’t show up?”

You crinkle your nose, sidestepping the question with, “What were you doing out so late, then?”

Vi blinks for a second before straightening up with a sigh.

“Doing the same thing you were.”

You throw up your hands, “Why’re you allowed to go running around at night, but I’m not?”

“Because I know how to lay a guy out when he tries to get fresh! Clearly, a skillset you don’t seem to share!”

“I could’ve outrun them…” you mumble, tugging at your sleeves.

Vi scoffs, “Right, and if you couldn’t?”

But your eyes catch on a cut along her eyebrow, the bruise blooming dark on her left cheek. You reach out a hand; she catches your wrist before you can touch her face, her expression guarded.

“You’re bleeding.”

Her grip loosens but she still shrugs you off, “It’s nothing.”

You frown, shaking your head. When she relaxes her fingers, you twist your hand around to catch her wrist instead.

“C’mon.”

“Uh… where’re we going?”

You lead her down the street, pausing at a crosswalk to look both ways even though the street itself is very much deserted.

“My place.”

Vi lets out a soft laugh, “Geez, princess. Are all you figure skaters this forward? Y’know usually, you’d take a girl out on a date first before inviting her home.”

You shoot her a nasty look over your shoulder.

“We’re already ‘dating’, remember?”

Vi’s smirk drops from her face, but she doesn’t pull her hand away. And by the time you reach the front of your building, she’s at a level with you, her arm hanging limp in your grip. You cast her a sidelong glance before dropping her hand and rummaging around for your keys.

“Hm. Nice place,” she says, looking around as you push into your apartment, tossing your keys in a turtle-shaped bowl by the door and toeing off your shoes. “Bit far from campus though, no?”

You head for the bathroom, flicking on the lights as you go.

“Yeah, but it’s closer to the rink — aha!” you pull out the first aid kit under the bathroom sink and make your way back into the small living room to find Vi standing awkwardly by the door. You jerk your head towards the couch.

“Sit.”

Vi sighs, eyeing the room over once more before kicking off her shoes and slumping down on the couch. You perch yourself in front of her, leaning in to check on the thin slash on her forehead.

“It’s not very deep but… I’m still gonna need to wipe it first.”

“Do your worst, princess.”

You roll your eyes, tearing open an antiseptic wipe with your teeth and reaching up to dab gingerly at the cut. Vi winces dramatically, chuckling when you give her another glare.

“So…” Vi says, in a bracing attempt to fill the thickening silence.

Your brow creases as you continue to wipe down the cut, flipping the wipe over to the clean side.

“Heard you’re training for the Olys… that’s… impressive.”

You sigh, putting down the now stained alcohol wipe and digging around for some neosporin.

“I have to qualify first.”

“Yeah? And what’s that look like?”

“Well… the quickest way to do that is to just be the best figure skater in the entire country.”

Vi lets out an incredulous laugh, “Oh yeah. It’s that simple, huh?”

You fix her with a look as you squeeze a tiny dollop of neosporin onto your finger.

“It is. But simple doesn’t mean it’s easy — hold still.”

You gingerly drag your finger across the cut, blowing gently before pulling back to tear open a bandaid.

“Barring that though, I basically have to consistently place within the top 3 at all the international competitions I participate in and… hope that the skating union thinks I’m good enough to represent the country.”

You press the bandaid to her forehead, leaning back to assess your work before letting your hand drop.

“Oh,” Vi breathes, watching as you fold the discarded bits of wrapping paper into smaller and smaller squares. “Damn, princess. You really are… good, huh.”

You let out a soft laugh, shrugging, “It’s… kinda the only thing I’ve ever been… good at.” You sigh, reaching into the first aid box for a cold compress, breaking the seal and shaking it in your hand to activate it.

Vi hums as you reach up to press the cold pack to her cheek, her hand catching yours before you can pull away completely. She doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches in your chest or the way your eyes go wide in the slant-wise light.

“Hm. You seem plenty good at getting yourself into trouble though.”

Her voice is low, husky in a way that catches even herself off guard. But you lick your lips and Vi can’t stop herself from glancing down at the soft pink flash of your tongue.

“Says the girl who bought her fists to a knife-fight,” but there’s no real bite in your voice, and still, your hand is poised beneath hers, pressed to the rapidly cooling pack on her cheek.

Neither of you seem to notice the steadily decreasing space between you, nor the rapid uptick of your pulse, nor the way your knee is somehow slotted between Vi’s legs, her free hand resting against your thigh.

“Where I grew up, a good pair of fists’ll take you much further than any fancy knife-work.”

You’re so close you can taste the heat of her words as they wash across your lips.

“Is this… the part of the night where you tell me you tragic backstory? Y’know, the one that makes you such a good hockey player?” you ask, grinning as Vi scoffs, her hand inching up your thigh till her fingers skim yours. She gives your other hand a squeeze, the one that’s still clutched beneath hers on the cold compress against her cheek.

“We really oughtta do something about that mouth of yours — it’s gonna get you into some real trouble some day.”

You tilt your head slow, your eyes caught on the dangerous curve of Vi’s mouth as you suck in a soft breath, her free hand linking with yours —

“And here I thought I was already in the realest kind of trouble I could find…”

Vi’s thumb skims along the soft pad of your hand and you wince, pain shooting up your arm as you jerk back.

“Ouch —”

“Sorry —”

You both look down and the moment fades from around you like a dissipating breath on a winter morning’s chill. She frowns down at your hand even as you try to tug it free.

“It’s nothing, I just —”

“Hold still,” Vi’s voice is still soft but stern as jerks your hand up to eye level.

A sharp splinter peaks out from the pad of your palm, just beneath your thumb and Vi sighs, dropping the hand holding the compress to her cheek.

“You got tweezers or something?”

You nod mutely, tugging away to grab a pair from your makeup bag and bringing it back.

“Guess I should be thanking you,” Vi says, frowning as she squeezes at the tender skin around the splinter, trying to get to a good angle.

“For what? You’re the one that saved me,” you say, your breath hitching as she nudges against the splinter with her thumb, her wincing as you let out a small whine.

“Shit, sorry — I mean — I would’ve been in trouble if you didn’t take that guy out with the branch — don’t move — I think I got it —”

“I just…” you shrug your free arm, watching as Vi tugs the small shard of wood from your flesh, a bead of blood collecting on your skin.

Vi chuckles, shifting back to flick the splinter from the tweezer head and hand it back to you.

“Just moved without thinking?”

You flush, nodding, rubbing at your hand, glancing anywhere but at Vi’s face.

The quiet gathers around you like smoke, swirling and thick till you can’t stand the weight of it anymore and turn back towards her.

“Look, I’m sorry I pretended to be —”

“Do you wanna go out sometime with —”

The pair of you speak at the same time and you freeze, staring at one another.

“Sorry, what?”

“No, you —” Vi breaks off, swallowing.

You shake your head, “I — you said —”

“Forget what I —”

You frown, “Did you just ask me out on a real date?”

Vi goes pink, pushing her tongue against her cheek as she glares at a blank spot on the wall.

“Not if you’re actually sorry for trying to be my fake —”

“There’s a really cute place off Centre street —”

Vi’s eyebrows hike up, a grin twitching at her lips, “Yeah?”

You purse your lips, heat crawling up your neck and kissing into your cheeks.

“They’ve got boozy cupcakes.”

Vi laughs, “Oh shit, yeah?”

“I’ve… always wanted to go but…”

“So why haven’t you?”

You swallow, the ticking, post-midnight quiet collecting sweet around the pair of you like honey.

“Th-they’re kind of big and — I’ve… I’ve never had anyone to… to share one with.”

“Kinda big, huh?” Vi asks, her voice licentious, her eyebrows waggling.

You give her a tiny shove, “Oh my god — nevermind —”

“Let’s do it.”

You blink, your lashes fluttering as Vi shifts back half an inch, sucking in a breath as if reminding her own lungs of the action of breathing. There’s a berry-stained darkness to her cheeks and a lost, liquid look to her eyes. You wonder if it’s just the dimness of your apartment but when she turns her gaze back onto you, you find yourself arrested in it’s light.

“Okay,” you breathe.

And Vi nods again.

“I’ll uh — text you — wait, do we even have each other’s numbers?”

You shake your head, watching as she digs her phone from her pocket.

“No but I —” you pause as your hand hovers over her proffered phone. Vi frowns.

“You… what?”

You take her phone and quickly punch in your number, hitting the save button and handing the phone back to her.

Vi glances down at your contact before shooting you a quick text.

You jump slightly, biting your lips as you flick open your screen, your cheeks staining a darker and darker shade of red as you flip your screen towards her.

“I might’ve… asked Jayce for your number.”

Vi stares at the saved contact — Violet <3

“Wh —”

“It was so that if anyone came up to me after that party to ask if we were really dating, I could —”

“Pretend to be my fake girlfriend better?” Vi finishes, smirking, even though her stomach flips inside her.

“Yeah… something like that,” you say, snatching your phone back, your eyes downcast.

Vi runs a hand through her hair, fisting it tight enough to sting as she backs towards the door. Her heart is thumping somewhere in the back of her throat, making a truly valiant attempt at leaping from her mouth and all she can think is that she needs to get out of here before she does something that she’s really going to regret.

“So… I should —” she gestures at the door.

“Yeah, it’s late — be careful — do you want me to call you a cab?” You push to your feet even as Vi shakes her head.

“Nah, I’ve — I can jog back — it’s not far —”

“Okay… if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure, princess.”

The silence pools at your feet as you take half a step forward, a hand pressed to your chest, the other behind your back. Vi watches, her whole body tingling as she fumbles for her shoes, a heady drunkenness soaking into her skin that might be just her tiredness catching up with her or something else entirely.

“Kay — I’ll see you.”

You put up a hand and wiggle your fingers. Vi clears her throat as she pulls open the door and slips out, bringing the door shut behind her with a long exhale, sagging against it the second it’s closed.

You hiss out a breath, stumbling forward to press your forehead to the cool metal as Vi closes her eyes, her back braced against it on the other side.

You let your lashes flutter shut just as Vi forces hers open, and both of you murmur at the exact same time —

“Well, fuck.”

taglist: @traiitorjoe @rizzscary @wetcat020 @alex-thegiraffeboyy @nanasemo @saturnhas82moons @unear7hly @drsnowrose @grantaires-waistcoat @isab3lita @ally-all-around @starrysetup22 @lipsent @lewd_alien @jack-frost-2010 @starsfortaylor @onesockcat @lesbian-useless @armins-slvt @lin-elizabeth @ryescapades @kingkamk @princesssmars @chobssss @mybelovedvi @bouqette @noietta @brooks-lin @ally-all-around @bunnyrose01 @stumpystump @lia-winther @folklore13lover @sawaagyapong @sevikas-whore @sunflowerwinds @taurtel @tourmalinetyrone @oidloid @marcylated @krisziepowlet @vikaswife @pa-co @devotedlyelectronicartisan @aliluvszs @elliecoochieeater

[gravegoer]

Hello, how about a part 2 of being Sevika's boss maybe when they got together or something like that thankyouuu and i love all of your ficss thank you making them hehe

Sevika's Boss ꩜ part 2

hi anon, sevikas boss fanfic got a lot of love a while ago so im happy to write part 2 !! let me know if you enjoyed i threw in some misunderstandings for fun here..maybe kind of angst?? its okay tho you make up very quickly PART 1 , masterlist

You and Sevika hung around eachother a lot, I mean that was normal right? She is your second in command afterall.

Personally, you didn't see a problem with it, and nor did Sevika.

She had grown accustomed to your presence and didn't mind all your small, loving touches and annoying jokes.

And yes, sometimes she went a little overboard for you, like what kind of subordinate stays at their bosses house to tend to them whilst they are injured? Or goes out for drinks every weekend? But maybe your relationship was starting to exceed the bounds of boss and employee.

She has definitely warmed up to you more than she did with Silco. She thinks it was your charming personality, or cute outfits, your smile...

Some people might say you sitting in Sevikas lap while you fixed up her arm might be indecency in the workplace, but you found it to be a simple and innocent task.

But this begs the question, what exactly is your relationship?

This is also a question Jinx was starting to ask herself.

"So uh...whats with you and Sevika?" Jinx asked in an almost singsongy voice.

She flipped her gun around in her hand haphazardly while she was sprawled out on your (Silcos) desk.

"What do you mean whats with us..?" You shook your head, mimicking her movements with your pen.

"I meaaan, you guys act like a married couple or something!" She threw her two hands in the air with a 'duh' kind of look plastered on her face.

You pushed one of her braids to the side to pull out a paper from under it. One of Sevikas reports from a recent trip. Her handwriting was an imperfect cursive. Sighing, you put your face in your hand while you held the paper, staring at it diligently.

Jinx looked at you quizically at your lack of an answer. She sharply pushes the paper down with the tip of her gun, "Hey, are you— Oh," She let out a nasally laugh at the paper, "Damn, you got it bad, huh, toots?"

"What? I have what bad?" You slid the paper away and tilted your head at her.

The blue-haired girl sat up and rested a spindly arm on her knee, "You're so in L word with her." She snickered at you.

"Im in—" Your face flushed at your realization. "I am not in 'L word' with her." You raised your hands to do finger quotes around 'L word.'

"Hmmmm, are you sure?" She teased, putting her gun to her chin and looking up in mock thought "I mean, you practically cling to her, you always walk home with her, and plus you talk about her all the time– hell! You talk to her all the time."

You stared at Jinx, now zoning out in thought. What were you supposed to tell Sevika? Does Sevika even think the same way about you? Would that relationship even be appropriate?

"You know what?" You stood up and pointed in Jinx' face, "Im going to do it—"

She attempted to cut you off with a meek,

"Sevikas—"

"Im going to tell her I love her," You continued, Jinx' half attempt to save your ass fell on deaf ears.

You looked up, finger still in the girls face to make eye contact with a very familiar set of grey eyes. Fuck.

Sevikas gaze faltered, and she cleared her throat, bringing a fist to her mouth, "Um. I came to ask you if you wanted to grab a drink, but it seems like you have better plans."

Holy shit. She didn't know it was about her. Is that good or bad? You only felt a few seconds of relief before Sevika just turned around and walked out. That was bad.

Jinx whistled, still under the pressure of your pointing finger, "You have some explaining to do."

You fumbled over your words before pushing Jinx' forehead back with your finger. "Ughh.. This is your fault."

You drooped back down into the large chair, putting your head in your hand and heaving a sigh.

"Just go tell her while you still have a chance. She's probably going to be moping around the Last Drop," Jinx got up from her spot on the desk, and some papers fell with her.

"That's my queue to leave, though," She hopped out of the office with a little too much energy, probably on her way to cause more mischief.

You sighed and packed up your stuff, picking up stray papers and shoving them into a random drawer on your desk.

Grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder, you pushed open the double doors to your office. It was time to go to the last drop.

poor sevika

Your entrance was signified with the ding of a bell atop the door. Music was playing loudly, and people were swarmed around the bar. Your eyes scanned the nearest areas for Sevika, but as you figures she was nowhere in sight.

She was most definitely in her usual gambling spot. You didn't want to approach her while she was in the middle of a game, so you waited at a nearby table, making sure to stay out of her sight.

You could hear the groans of the men at her table, most definitely losing. Chuckling at this, you watched as a waiter came up to your table asking for your order.

You just asked for a simple whiskey sour, hanging your bag on the back of your chair.

Several minutes (and a few drinks later), you felt someone's eyes on the back of your head. Turning around, you, once again, were met with steely grey eyes. Sevika stood near behind you with her arms crossed. The game had finished.

"You get rejected or something." She deadpanned.

"No—well.. not yet." You turned around in your chair to face her, the metal back of the chair was now settled between your legs.

You held what you thought was your sixth whiskey sour in between your fingers, chin resting on the top of the chair back.

She scoffed at this, turning her head to avoid eye contact. You could have sworn a small blush coated her cheeks. But her frown made you think otherwise, her large forearms tensed before she spoke.

"Oh, so you're waiting for her here."

How cruel of you to profess your love to someone in the place you knew Sevika would be. You probably wanted her to see it, right?

"Yeah, shes already here." You said, still staring at her side profile, tracing the scar on her cheek with your eyes.

The neon lights illuminated her face and brought out every curve and angle. But your thoughts were interrupted by her stern and almost angry voice.

"I should leave then," she started to walk away, but you reached out quickly.

(I dont know why you would do that when she wasn't even in arms length to begin with.) You started to fall forward, you let out a small yelp and held onto the chair, your drink falling onto the ground. You awaited impact, but it never came.

Instead, you were met with strong arms holding the back of your chair up. Sevika was bent over slightly, both mechanical arm and human arm on the metal of the chair. And for the third time, you made eye contact with now very close grey eyes. Her eyebrows were furrowed in shock or frustration- you couldn't tell.

Without another thought, you grabbed her by the collar and pulled her lips into yours. At first, she tried to pull away but eventually melted into the heat of the kiss. She sat your chair back up on four legs, and her elbows lean on the top of the chair, encircling you.

Almost as soon and she relented she pulled away, "What the hell are you doing," She rasped, wiping her mouth with the back of a large hand.

Her lips were still puffy from the kiss, but almost more downturned than before. When you didn't respond she offered a question, "Are you drunk?"

Your lopsided grin told her all she needed to know. She knew she needed to take you home, but she was going to do so reluctantly. Afterall you were going to become someone else's girl, couldn't have her hands all over you like she usually did.

She grabbed you (almost roughly) by the arms and pulled you out of the chair, "How are you going to profess your love now?" She scoffed.

"I just did, was that not enough?" Your words were slurred and you helped her by stepping up with heavy legs.

She furrowed her brows until she came to a not-so-shocking realization. Cursing under her breath she smirked at you. You could almost see the relief wash over her face.

Her thick arm held you by your upper torso as she almost carried you to the doors. She sighed at your stupidness, why not just tell her right away, then you wouldn't have to have gone through all the trouble.

She eyed your glossed over eyes, shaking her head at the dumb smirk that held its place on your face. She could feel the quiver of your body against the cold night wind.

At that she lifted you into her arms, covering you with her cloak. You looked up at her with wide eyes, burying your face in the material. God she wanted to kiss you so bad. But she'd save that for the awkward talk in the morning.

thank you for reading ! yes i see your asks all your fics are on the way I swear !!!! much love

[pucksandpower]

Seeing Color

Lando Norris x soulmate!Reader

Summary: the average person goes their whole life without seeing so much as a drop of color, so safe to say you’re quite surprised when the sky suddenly turns blue while you’re covering Formula 1 for the first time

The sky’s a muted gray, just like every other day of your life, as you stand in the bustling paddock of Silverstone, trying to ignore the knot in your stomach.

This isn’t what you signed up for. Football’s your thing — sweaty players, goals, and post-match interviews in rain-soaked stadiums. But motorsport? Formula 1? It’s a different beast altogether.

“Just one race,” your supervisor had assured you. “It’ll be fine, Y/N. You’re a pro.”

Easy for them to say. The paddock is a maze of garages, team colors (which are a uniform grayscale for you, of course), and a cacophony of sounds that’s more overwhelming than a packed Premier League stadium.

You’ve been briefed on the basics — Max Verstappen’s the reigning champ, Lewis Hamilton’s the legend, and Lando Norris, the homegrown young talent, just secured P2.

P2. The words feel alien, even though you repeat them to yourself over and over, willing them to become familiar. Podium finish, second place. You’ve got this.

But the truth is, you don’t. Not really. And it’s showing as you fumble with your notes, trying to prepare for the post-race interviews. Your heart’s racing faster than any of the cars on the track.

“Hey, you alright there?”

The voice comes from behind you, startling you out of your thoughts. You turn around and see a young man — not too tall, with curly hair, and a faint smirk playing on his lips. You recognize him immediately, even in black and white.

Lando Norris.

“Yeah, just-” You scramble for professionalism, straightening your back and offering what you hope is a confident smile. “Just getting ready for the interviews.”

Lando’s eyes flicker down to the notes in your hand. “First time covering F1?”

Your smile falters. “Is it that obvious?”

He chuckles softly, and for a moment, it’s as if the world around you narrows down to just the two of you standing there in the paddock, the sounds and chaos fading into the background.

“A little,” he admits, leaning casually against the wall, as if he’s got all the time in the world. “But don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you.”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound surprising even yourself. There’s something about his easygoing manner that puts you at ease, just for a moment. “I appreciate that.”

“Y/N Y/L/N, right?” He asks, and you’re caught off guard that he knows your name.

“That’s me,” you reply, slipping into the role of interviewer as best as you can. “Congratulations on P2, by the way. How was the race for you?”

He glances at you, and for a brief second, his expression changes. It’s subtle — almost imperceptible — but it’s there. Something shifts in his eyes, something that makes your breath catch in your throat.

“Thanks,” he says, but the word comes out softer than you expect. There’s a pause, a moment of hesitation, before he continues. “The race was … it was intense. But honestly? Standing here right now … it feels like something else is happening.”

You frown slightly, not understanding. “What do you mean?”

Lando looks at you again, more intently this time, and you’re acutely aware of the way your pulse is thumping in your ears. “Look around,” he murmurs, his voice low, as if he’s sharing a secret. “Do you see anything different?”

You blink, confused. You glance around, expecting to see the same monotone world you’ve always known, the same dull shades of gray. But instead … you see it. A soft glow in the distance, a faint tinge of color in the sky.

It’s … blue.

A gasp escapes your lips before you can stop it. “What …”

Lando steps closer, his expression as bewildered as yours. “You see it too, don’t you?”

“I-I don’t understand,” you stammer, your heart racing even faster now. “This can’t be real. I’ve never seen color before.”

“Neither have I,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “But … I’m seeing it now. Because of you.”

The air around you feels electric, charged with something you can’t quite name. Your eyes lock onto his, and suddenly, the world isn’t gray anymore. It’s alive with hues and shades that you’ve only ever imagined. His eyes, a stunning shade of fluid green, meet yours with the same wonder.

“This can’t be real,” you repeat, more to yourself than to him. You’re trying to make sense of the impossible, of the vivid blues and greens and reds that are slowly seeping into your vision, like the world is waking up from a long sleep.

Lando reaches out, his hand hovering near yours, not quite touching. There’s a vulnerability in his gaze that’s startling — like he’s just as unsure of what’s happening as you are. “I think …” he starts, then stops, swallowing hard before trying again. “I think it’s because we’re soulmates.”

“Soulmates?” You echo, the word feeling foreign on your tongue. You’ve heard the stories, the myths — how the world is black and white until you meet the person you’re meant to be with.

But it’s just that, isn’t it? A myth? A fairytale? With over 8 billion people on Earth, the chances of actually meeting your fated match are slim-to-none. Most of the population has grown to accept that they will never see anything other than black and white.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “That’s what they say, right? You don’t see color until you meet your soulmate. But I never thought it’d actually happen. Not like this.”

You’re silent for a moment, trying to process it all. The colors, the implications, the fact that this person — this stranger — is suddenly supposed to mean everything to you. It’s overwhelming.

“I don’t even know you,” you whisper, voicing your fears. “How can we be soulmates if we don’t even know each other?”

Lando’s smile is small, almost shy. “I guess we’ll have to change that, won’t we?”

The words are simple, but they carry a weight that you’re not sure you’re ready to bear. But when he looks at you like that, with such sincerity, you find yourself nodding.

“Yeah,” you agree softly. “I guess we will.”

He takes a step closer, and this time, his hand does brush against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You feel it in every nerve, every inch of your being. It’s like the world has shifted on its axis, and you’re standing at the center of something much bigger than yourself.

“Can I ask you something?” Lando’s voice is quiet, almost tentative.

“Of course,” you reply, your voice just as soft.

“What’s your favorite color?”

The question catches you off guard. It’s such a simple thing, and yet, in this moment, it feels like the most important question in the world. You look around, taking in the colors that are now flooding your vision — the vibrant greens of the trees in the distance, the deep blues of the sky, the bright reds and yellows of the cars and team logos.

“I don’t know,” you admit, and the honesty of it feels right. “I’ve never had a favorite color before.”

Lando smiles, a real smile this time, and it’s like the sun breaking through the clouds. “Pretty sure I’m legally obligated to say mine’s papaya,” he laughs, and you notice it for the first time — the vibrant hue of his team’s colors, standing out against the grayscale world you’ve known until now. “I think you’ll like it.”

You smile back at him, feeling the connection between you deepening with every passing second. It’s terrifying, and exhilarating, and everything in between.

“I think I might,” you say, and the words are full of a promise that you’re not sure you fully understand yet, but that feels right nonetheless.

For a moment, the world falls away, and it’s just the two of you, standing there in a kaleidoscope of color that’s bursting into life all around you. The roar of the engines, the clamor of the crowd — it all fades into the background as you look at each other, truly seeing each other for the first time.

“So … what happens now?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando’s hand tightens around yours, and there’s a steadiness in his gaze that grounds you. “We take it one step at a time,” he says. “We get to know each other. And we see where this goes.”

The simplicity of his words is comforting. There’s no grand declaration, no rush to figure everything out. Just a promise to take things as they come, to let whatever this is between you grow naturally, in its own time.

“I’d like that,” you say, and you mean it.

He grins, that boyish charm back in full force, and you can’t help but smile in return. “Good,” he says. “Because I think we’re going to be seeing a lot more of each other.”

There’s a warmth in his tone that makes your heart skip a beat, and for the first time since this whole whirlwind began, you find yourself excited about the future — about the possibility of what’s to come.

“Yeah,” you reply, your smile widening. “I think we are.”

And as you stand there, hand-in-hand with Lando Norris, surrounded by the vibrant colors of a world that’s finally come to life, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this is where you were always meant to be.

[luveline]

Hi idk if u have already written this if u have pls igonore but what about the first time bombshell reader calls Spencer beautiful?

fem, 1k

“Gideon has a new prodigy.” 

Your head rises of its own accord. “Yeah?” 

“He's younger than you. Twenty three, I think Hotch said. Fresh out of college, two degrees and working on a third? Or maybe he was getting his doctorate? I couldn't keep up.” Morgan shakes his head in disapproval. “Overeducated and under-experienced. He failed his physicals. The ones he took, anyways.” 

“Ooh, ouch. A baby on the team before me,” you joke with a smile. “Genius baby, but a baby.” 

Morgan smiles when you smile, he's too nice not to, but he picks up soon enough, crossing his arms where he's stood and wrinkling what was once a finely steamed suit jacket. “I don't know what Gideon's thinking.” 

“Does anyone ever know what he's thinking? What's Hotch say about it all?” 

Morgan reads what you're typing from over your shoulder and corrects a mistake. One day you won't need his help, but for now you take as much of it as you can get. You're not too proud to acknowledge when you mess up, you're a realist. Super sensible (in mind if not action). 

“Hotch lets Gideon do what he wants, mostly. What can you do when he's one of the originals?” Morgan leans heavily onto his desk by the forearms and shrugs. You’re similar in this regard; complain, move on. You're similar in other ways, too. That's why you get along. 

“Well, I want to meet this guy,” you say. “We'll be teammates just as soon as Strauss stops hating me. I'm one strategic boxed bouquet from a full pardon.” He laughs and touches your arm like he believes you. “Is he around?” 

“Here they are now.” 

You spin in Morgan's desk chair slowly. Jason Gideon is stalking through the office with his head in the contents of a manilla envelope, while a new face follows behind him talking a mile a minute. 

“Obviously,” you hear Gideon interrupt as they get close enough. “Agent Morgan can explain that to you. Don't overthink it, Spencer, just try to get through it.” 

He doesn't acknowledge you nor Morgan as he leaves Spencer and hurries up the steps leading to his and Hotch's offices. You aren't expecting much else from him. What little Gideon knows about you he doesn't like. If you ever get over the Strauss hurdle, it's him you'd have to convince next. You don't watch him cross the landing, your gaze focused on the man making his timid way toward you. Your lips part briefly, and then quirk into an overjoyed smile. 

“Oh, you're beautiful,” you say without thinking. 

He frowns at you. 

“Reid,” Morgan interrupts, “This is Y/N L/N. She works in the sex crimes division. As you can imagine, we get a lot of crossover.” You stand, holding out your hand. “Y/N, this is Spencer Reid.” 

“I don't shake. Sorry.” 

You press your hand to your chest. “Oh, that's okay. I shouldn't assume…” Your voice melds into a silkiness that has his shapely brows furrowing further, “It's nice to meet you, Spencer Reid. You're really pretty, do you know that?” 

Spencer peeks at Morgan quickly, who laughs good-naturedly. “She's serious, Reid. She's not making fun of you.” 

“You'd know,” Spencer says. It isn't malicious, but it isn't exactly friendly, either.

You twist to frown at Morgan deeply. “Morgan, you're not being nice to him?” 

“I'm being plenty nice, sweetheart, but this is how it works. I gotta haze him a little.” 

“No, you don't.” You tip your cheek toward your shoulder to look at Spencer through your lashes. “He pretends to be worse than he is, I promise. But don't let him neg you, okay? You're smarter than he is–” 

“Hey.” 

“–and he's used to being the office pretty boy. It's jealousy, nothing else,” you finish. Spencer really is gorgeous now you're close enough to see his eyes. A brown like caramelised sugar tented by dark, dark eyelashes. When he smiles, the very slightest hint of teeth shows, and it makes him even prettier. You endeavour to make him smile again. “Sorry if I'm coming off a little strong. It's not my intention.” 

“She's just nervous. You have everything she wants,” Morgan says. 

You sigh forlornly. “Oh, doesn't he?” Spencer's confused pout is even cuter than his smile. “Getting into the BAU is about as easy as walking on water.” 

“For a human,” Spencer says. “Easier if you're smaller. Like a water strider.” 

There's a silence. Morgan is aghast, you think. You're in love. 

“Yeah?” you ask, stars in your eyes as his own spark to life. 

“Because water strider's can transfer their weight, but also due to their hydrofuge hairpiles. Their microhairs.” He catches himself, measuring your expression carefully. “Did you really wanna know?” 

“Do you wanna get a cup of coffee and tell me about it?” you ask. 

His lips part as yours had when you first saw him. 

He's prevented from answering as Hotch's office door opens and the man himself walks out near the railing. “Good, you’re here. I have something to talk to you about.” 

You grin at him. “I'd love to chat, Agent Hotchner, but I'm getting to know your new protégé.”

“I see.” He waits. 

You would ignore him —Hotch has a soft spot for you (or rather, he likes you enough to put up with you, which is more than can be said about other members of his division) and he'd shrug off your dismissal— but you're really keen to hear what he has to say. Perhaps Strauss has changed her mind about your proposed trail basis with the team. 

“I'm so sorry,” you say to Spencer, immediately re-dazzled by his pretty, lovely face. “It was really nice to meet you, Spencer Reid. Maybe next time you can tell me more about it.” 

You give Morgan a quick thank you for the help with your paperwork and trust him to log out of your emails. In your rush up the stairs, you hear a wisp of conversation. 

“Was she messing with me?” 

Morgan laughs. “No, kid. That's how she is.” 

"Oh... She's nice."

"You have no idea."

[povlnfour]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ CRASH LANDING (LN4)

pairing: lando norris x f!reader

summary: lando accidentally hits a stranger with his car — the internet can’t stop referring to it as a meet cute. (un)fortunately for lando, mclaren agree.

genre: comedy, fluffy

authors note: a continuation of the ending to beached! you don’t need to have read that to understand this, however it will give some insight to the mclaren matchmaker jokes <3 also in light of that, this is set a few races in the future! *oscarsgf user refers to the character in beached!

*faceclaim: keeahwah on ig (but please imagine her as you see fit!)

landonorris posted a tweet ੈ✩‧₊˚

tmz posted a tweet ੈ✩‧₊˚

landonorris posted tweets ੈ✩‧₊˚

lando’s texts with y/n ੈ✩‧₊˚

landonorris just posted ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by carlossainz55 and 203,488 others

landonorris practicing safe driving

view all comments

user you are so unserious sir

user SOOOO IS THAT THE GIRL HE HIT BC

user no clue but she’s CUTE

oscarpiastri @/fia look here

landonorris i will literally remind your girlfriend of your murder attempts when you first met

user it’s giving meet cute

user i’d read a fic on it

yourusername you literally drove off BEFORE I WAS EVEN IN THE CAR

landonorris IT WAS AN ACCIDENT I WAS DISTRACTED

user ASSUMING THIS IS HER???

user @/user CLICKING ON HER ACCOUNT IT DEFINITELY IS

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by bestfriend, landonorris and 3,907 others

yourusername monaco recap🇲🇨 successfully didn’t get hit by too many cars!

view all comments

user AS IF LANDO HIT THE HOTTEST PERSON IVE EVER SEEN

user nah this is actually a full meet cute i’m sorry this is the shit you see in romcoms

bestfriend still can’t believe you didn’t take compensation but accepted a lunch date instead

yourusername can you blame me

user @/yourusername oh girl no one can you are so real for that

friend1 wait till everyone finds out you’re only there for another 4 days

user WHAT. i can’t have them separated already😶

user parasocial relationship with lando ended y/n is my new idol now

twitter reacts ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚

[captions:

photo 1: lando paid for me to get my nails done !!!

photo 2: :D

photo 3: ur all romanticizing my life rn but this is my view in a fancy ass restaurant]

texts with your best friend ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris and 11,276 others

yourusername final days in heaven. i’ll miss so much about this place

👤 tagged bestfriend, landonorris

view all comments

user wait she doesn’t live in monaco?? she’s leaving??? just after i’ve gotten attached to her and lando???

bestfriend please come back to visit asap i cannot go too long without my y/n cuddles

landonorris seconded

user um lando sir,,, seconded the whole thing? cuddles included?

user this cannot be the end of the meet cute i refuse to

landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by oscarpiastri and 286,425 others

landonorris safe to say i’ve had a pretty good break between races

view all comments

user a whole post dedicated to her with THAT caption? oh yep they’re whipped

user please tell me y’all are going to stay in contact?

user my heart is shattering already

mclaren 🧡

user MCLAREN PLEASE YOU’VE DONE IT ONCE BEFORE

texts with lando ੈ✩‧₊˚

mclaren interview ੈ✩‧₊˚

[transcript:

o: safe to say you’ve had a pretty interesting break before this race

l: hey let me remind you what happened for you over winter break!

o: okay but i didn’t literally hit my girlfriend with my car!

l: oh so you finally asked her out officially?

o: stop deflecting!

l: okay okay! yeah safe to say i had a nice time. always need a bit of a change in life!

o: so how are things going now?

l: (awkwardly) well you know how it’s… yeah

o: ah i get it. quite literally been there done that got the t shirt. but hey you did say all that when i got my big moment about mclaren—

l: no no no don’t give them any ideas! they’re listening!]

mclaren just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 203,467 people

mclaren the boys are back! don’t forget to check out the new interview on our channel where lando and oscar talk all things hopes for the second half of the season, workouts and… girls?

view all comments

user mclaren. mclaren look at me. you know what you have to do

mclaren 👀

user when oscar asked him about y/n… i wanted to cry he looked so sad are things over between them?

oscarsgf @/oscarpiastri you’re such a gossip

oscarpiastri you love me for it

oscarsgf @/oscarpiastri you know what i’m thinking?

oscarpiastri @/oscarsgf plotting?

oscarsgf @/oscarpiastri plotting!

user what on earth is going on…

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by oscarsgf and 29,481 others

yourusername lately :)

view all comments

user you are so ! gorgeous !

user i can see why lando is obsessed

user speaking of… where is our favorite brit in the likes☹️

oscarsgf pretty girl!!!

yourusername oh?!? thank u cutie!!!

user ^ oh their plotting is in progress???

mclaren you’d look good in orange👀🧡

landonorris posted a tweet ੈ✩‧₊˚

an email from mclaren ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚

mclaren just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 287,456 people

mclaren it’s race day🫡

view all comments

user WHO IS THE GIRL

user IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS

user PLEASE TELL ME THATS Y/N

user LOOK AT HER STORIES ITS DEFINITELY HER

user SOMEONE WHO IS THERE KEEP US UPDATED PLEASE

user just posted a thread ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 106,544 others

yourusername i don’t know guys, do you think he’s cute?

view all comments

user OH MY GOD FINALLY

landonorris i will hit you with my car again

yourusername is that a challenge mr. norris?

landonorris @/yourusername oh you better run fast

yourusername @/landonorris well duh cause you don’t know how to do the speed limit

user i love them. i love them so much.

oscarsgf omg can we force the boys to do mclaren double dates

landonorris leave this comment section now

yourusername @/landonorris too late we’re already texting

landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername, mclaren and 300,091 others

landonorris we are successful victims of mclarens matchmaking services

view all comments

user THEYVE DONE IT AGAINNN

user new fav couple fr

oscarpiastri oh how quickly you all forget me

user @/oscarpiastri WE COULD NEVER

user clearly i need to work for mclaren to get a cute gf

oscarpiastri @/oscarsgf is the second photo giving you flashbacks as well

oscarsgf they’re stealing our thing

yourusername thank you for posting the nice park date photo of me

landonorris well in all the others you’re mid cartwheel

mclaren glad to be of service🧡 anyone else? @/patriciooward how are you doing?

landonorris i’m gonna stop you right there

———————

a/n: WELL. hello friends. i said i wasn’t gonna post a one shot for a while, then this happened. i just hope its up to standard! i’m a little rusty in my writing considering everything!

in regards to new works, gonna be working on getting my wips out soon, and maybe popping some new smaus out at the same time as they’re easy and quick-ish for me to work on considering everything going on! do forgive me if i do some random family orientated stuff — pregnancy hormones are giving me baby fever for everything (is it still baby fever if you’re having a baby?)

let me know your thoughts in the comments/reblogs/asks — i’ve missed talking to you all sm! i have anon emojis available if people wanna chat too🤍

for the first time in a very long time,,, love, giselle xx

taglist (found here): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @woozarts @he6rtshaker @iluvvmeeee @goldenalbon @izzy-marvel @lucyysthings @lichterfee @tallrock35 @treehouse-house @iloveyou3000morgan @scopeiguess @amaranthineghost @gwginnyweasley @hetfieldd @sweetbabygirlsworld @wittywhispers @dark-night-sky-99 @namgification @casperlikej @marshmummy @geniusalpaca

tags for this post: @the-untamed-soul @itsprashimusic @purplephantomwolf @jasminesacademia

[menagerofmischief]

Spill Your Guts (OP81)

summary: after revealing what she listens to in order to wind down, y/n ends up with an invite from her favorite podcast host to appear in the next episode

driver!reader x podcast host!oscar piastri -> habs incoming... series masterlist

cw: not fia approved words, reader teasing lando (they're besties), kissing, fluff, bad flirting, oscar being bullied by hattie

wc: 2.9k

a/n: this one is written + smau, with a bit of different formatting for the podcast episode. this one was fun to write, I hope y'all will like it and show it some love.

-> TAKE 1

“Hi,” you said, flashing a smile to the camera. “I’m Y/n L/n!”

“And I’m Lando Norris,” your teammate, sitting in a chair next to you in the video set up, said while waving his hand. “And we’re McTeammates!”

“Lando,” you said, shaking your head as you turned to look at him. “We talked about this. We drive for McLaren, we’re teammates but,” you lifted a finger up, pointing it at him. “We’re not, McTeammates.”

He rolled his eyes, sticking his tongue out at you. “Whatever you say, McGrumpy!”

“That’s it!” You said, pushing your chair away from the table and standing up. “I’m taking away your Gray’s Anatomy privileges.”

“You can’t do that, you bitch!”

“Try me, you little termite!”

-> TAKE 2

“Hi,” you smiled, lifting your hand up to wave at the camera. “I’m Y/n L/n.”

“Why do you always start?” Lando complained. “Like why isn’t my name first, I’ve been here longer.”

“Because I’m the lead in the championship and your nickname is last lap Lando.”

“That’s so fucking mean, you muppet!” He sobbed, wiping the corner of his eye to add to the dramatic effect. “What’s wrong with you - you know I’m sensitive about that.”

You sighed, putting your hand on his back and rubbing along his spine in a comforting manner. “I’m sorry, Lando, I didn’t mean it.” You said, putting your fingers into his locks and ruffling his hair. “We can do your name first, and you can start the video. How does that sound?”

He looked up at you, eyes shining with excitement, the previous dramatics instantly gone as he started nodding his head. “Deal! No take backsies!”

-> TAKE 3

“Hi!” Lando said, his voice full of enthusiasm as he waved at the same with a big grin. “I’m Lando Norris.”

“And I’m Y/n L/n!” You said, smiling at the came and praying this take was going to work out because if you had to start this video over one more time you were going to strangle your teammate.

“Today we’re answering your questions. which you had the chance to send us on Instagram and we put them in this bowl.” Lando explained, holding up the said bowl full of folded papers.

You pushed your hand into the bowl, running your fingers over the papers before grabbing one and pulling it out. You unfolded the paper, looking down at the printed words. “What is Lando afraid of?” You read the question, laughing a little. “Fish!”

“Hey!” He interrupted, snatching the paper from your hands. “It’s my question I’m supposed to answer!” He looked down at the paper, humming while nodding his head. “I’m also afraid of the dark.”

You bit your lip to stop yourself from making a comment, wanting badly to tease him about saying he was afraid of the dark. 

Satisfied with his reply, Lando threw the paper away and dug into the bowl for the next one. He unfolded the paper, clearing his throat dramatically before reading out the question. “What does Y/n L/n listen to, to wind down?” His eyes snapped up, looking into yours. “Uh, I know this one!”

“I don’t care,” you replied, snatching the paper from his hands. “It’s my question.” You told him, returning his previous words back to him, which made him pout. “To wind down, especially after a race I listen to a podcast hosted by some Aussie guy named Oscar. The podcast is called Spill Your Guts, it has no specific theme and the host is a funny guy. Plus, he sounds cute.”

“I could have answered that!” Lando said, poking your arm with his finger. “I knew your answer word for word.”

“I’m sure you did Lando,” you said, nodding your head at him. “Now why don’t you pull out the next question?”

It’s a few days later, the video already long gone from your mind, when you walk into your driver’s room after a practice and flop directly onto the couch as soon as your helmet and balaclava are off, letting your body mold into the cushions after the exhausting practice.

You grab your phone and open it, eyes focusing on the new massage you had gotten while you were in the car. Your expression is confused as your eyes swipe over the number, not recognizing whose it is.

You enter the chat and after a brief moment of hesitation, you reply.

Your hands are shaking as you try your best to shove your phone into your pocket before jumping up, a scream tearing from your throat before you’re running to Lando’s driver’s room.

“Lando!” You yell, grabbing the door handle and pushing his doors open without knocking. He stops dead in his tracks and turns around to face you.

Lando holds both hands up, his mouth full of a chocolate doughnut that is half sticking out. He quickly grabs the part that’s sticking out and pulls it out of his mouth, swallowing the rest as fast as he can. “Don’t tell my trainer, please!”

Your eyes slide over to the half a doughnut in his hands and you shake your head at him. “I don’t care about that,” you tell him. “You’ll never believe what happened!”

“Max Verstappen got a 100 points penalty and you secured the championship?” He offers, deciding to finish his doughnut while he has a chance. 

“No, I don’t think that’s possible,” you tell him. “But it would be great! What was I saying? Oh, yes!” You clap your hand before putting them on his shoulders and shaking him. “Oscar Piastri invited me to star in an episode?”

“Who?” He asks, his voice muffled by the treat in his mouth.

“The Spill Your Guts, guy!”

“You got invited to Spill Your Guts!?” Lando asks, swallowing the doughnut before looking at you with a smile. “You’re going to be on an episode of your favorite podcast?”

“Yes!” You laughed, smiling at him.

“How?”

You grabbed Lando’s hand and moved him over to the couch, flopping down into a comfortable position, you patted the spot next to you, signaling for your teammate to sit down. Once he did, you cracked your fingers and locked your eyes with his. “Okay, so…” and then started explaining.

OSCAR: Hello everyone! Welcome to tonight's episode of Spill Your Guts. Tonight’s guest is definitely the most famous person I’ve ever had sitting opposite of me if you don’t count my sister, with her 120k TikTok followers. Anyways, it’s my pleasure to welcome Y/n L/n to the studio!

Y/N: Hi, Oscar! And hello to everyone who’s listening in tonight. The pleasure is all mine really - I’m honestly so excited to be here. Just ask Lando, I’m pretty sure he’s gone deaf from all my screaming.

OSCAR: [laugh] Okay Y/n, settle in and fasten your seat-belt, we’re starting.

Y/N: I’m ready!

OSCAR: I’m sure you’ve been asked this many times but what’s it like being a Formula 1 driver?

Y/N: Thrilling. Every race week is a new adventure and the sport is really competitive so you’re constantly trying to prove yourself and set new records. There’s really no time to slow down.

OSCAR: I’ll be honest, it sounds a bit exhausting. Now, if you were a driver what would you be?

Y/N: Maybe a doctor [sigh] I’ve always been interested in medicine but racing is my life. But yeah, if I wasn’t a racer I’d probably want to pursue a career in medicine.

OSCAR: [hum] I can see it. You’d look good in scrubs. [both laugh] What’s your favorite Grand Prix?

Y/N: Two words Oscar - Las Vegas!

OSCAR: That’s a night race, yeah? Seem fun. Are you ready for some rapid fire questions now?

Y/N: Go right ahead, pretty boy.

OSCAR: [nervous laugh] Okay then, ready steady go! Wet or dry?

Y/N: Wet.

OSCAR: Monza or Monaco?

Y/N: Monza!

OSCAR: Blondes or brunettes?

Y/N: Brunettes [laugh] Australian ones preferably.

OSCAR: [very loud laugh] How cold are the ice baths?

Y/N: Very fucking cold.

OSCAR: Vettel or Alonso?

Y/N: None of them - Rosberg. Catch the reference. 

OSCAR: I did! Catch the reference, that’s it. I watched that video to come up with questions.

Y/N: Oh, is the next question bums of boobs then? Because bums for sure.

OSCAR: That was not a question but thank you for answering it either way. Let me take a quick peek at the chat. boy4norizz wants to know who’s your favorite F1 teammate?

Y/N: [loud laugh] Oh God, Lando I’m gonna kill you! So, the only answer I can give you is Lando, because he’s the only teammate I’ve had in F1. But if I had another, it would definitely be them.

OSCAR: Cats or dogs?

Y/N: I like both but if I had to pick - dogs. I’ve got a dog actually, a goldie. His name’s Apollo.

OSCAR: I love goldies!

Y/N: You should come meet mine sometimes. 

OSCAR: I might take you up on that. Now, last I checked you are the current lead in the championship, right? How does that feel?

Y/N: Still feels a bit unreal, if I’m being honest. Obviously every driver dreams about winning the WDC, and obviously only half of the season is done so I don’t want to be getting ahead of myself with the talk, but to actually be in the lead and have such a big chance to win it feels amazing.

OSCAR: I hope you do win it.

Y/N: Oh! [small pause] Does that mean you’ll be cheering on me?

OSCAR: Absolutely! You mentioned half of the season being done so that means summer break is approaching right?

Y/N: Yes, summer break starts after the next race.

OSCAR: Got any plans for the break?

Y/N: Depends. Are you free?

[few moments of silence and then both start laughing]

OSCAR: [catching his breath] Alright, thank you everyone for tuning in - and thank you to Y/n, for joining us. Enjoy the rest of your night.

liked by yourusername, landonorris, mclaren, hattiepiastri and 12,864 more

oscarpiastri: Another thank you to F1 star, Y/n L/n for joining us in tonight's episode of Spill Your Guts. And thank you for bringing the merch! Go stream the episode if you missed it!

tagged: yourusername

comments:

user01: call me crazy but they have so much chemistry

user423: you're not crazy girl, I literally felt like I was intruding userr: same! and her inviting him to meet her dog!! if they don't date I'll kms

ynsmclaren2: 'do you have plans' 'depends, are you free' WELCOME BACK SEBASTIAN VETTEL

user3: no because I literally screamed when I heard that userss: preach sister. they sound so good together I need them to date

yourusername: it was an amazing experience, 10/10 host would come back

oscarpiastri: dibs on getting the first interview when you win your championship? yoursername: deal user33: oh they're down bad

hattiepiastri: you're embarrassing me, you have her number use it

oscarpiastri: I'm telling mom you're mean to me hattiepiastri: do it no balls, she likes me more user454: I live for hattie bullying oscar

You look into the mirror one more time, raising your hands up to smooth down your hair for God knows what time that night. You push yourself forward, practically leaning over the desk so your face is directly in front of the mirror and run your finger over the edge of your bottom lip, making sure corners of your lipstick aren’t smudged. 

“Stop that!” Lando says, picking up a makeup brush from the bed and throwing it at you. It’s times like these that make you wonder why you agreed to go on vacation with him. “You look great! I’m sure the pastry boy’s jaw is gonna dislocate from how hard it’s going to drop when he sees you.”

“That’s … definitely a mental image.” You reply, picking up the brush from the floor and throwing it back at him. “I’m nervous,” you admit, picking on the bits of skin next to your nails.

Lando gets up from the bed and approaches you. He smiles and lifts a hand up to pat your shoulder before deciding to pull in for a quick hug. “There’s no need to be.You’re a catch and if he screws us it’s his loss.”

You bite your lip, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you think it over. “Yeah, you’re right. Come on, I’m gonna be late.”

After pushing Lando out of your room you grab your purse and exit the room. The elevator ride down to the lobby feels like a small eternity, your stomach tied in knots by the time you finally step out in the lobby.

You make your way outside, a lump in your throat as you look around the busy street. Your eyes finally meet his and it’s like time slows down. He’s leaning against his car, dressed casually in pants and a T-Shirt, and holding a small bouquet of flowers.

You smile as you approach him and he mirrors your smile with his own. “These are for you,” he says, offering you the bouquet. “You look breathtaking.”

“Thank you,” you reply, taking the flowers from him, your fingers brushing against his. “And you don’t look bad yourself.”

He laughs in response, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards into a smile. He grabs the car door handle and opens the door, gesturing at it with his free arm. “Shall we?”

You can help but laugh, nodding your head you get into the car and he closes the door, going around the car and sitting in the driver's seat. “Where are we going?” You ask, settling back into the seat and pulling on your seat-belt.

“A little restaurant I used to go to with my parents and sisters when I was younger,” he tells you, starting the car. “Trust me, you’ll love it.”

f1wagupdates: new WAG in the paddock?

current championship lead and famous mclaren driver Y/n L/n, was spotted having an intimate dinner with Oscar Piastri, podcast host of Spill Your Guts, which L/n starred on and mentioned it being her favorite podcast.

after the episode she appeared in fans noted the flirting between L/n and Piastri. are the two finally together?

comments:

ynsmclaren2: I'm very happy for them but why don't we give them some privacy instead of photographing them going out to dinner

user332: hell yeah! my otp is real

user441: they look so cute together, I ship it

oscarpiastri: the term WAG stands for wives and girlfriends and is used for partners of athletes mostly because they are straight men dating women. the appropriate term to use in this situation is HAB because that stands for husbands and boyfriends and is therefore the same things as a WAG but for the other gender

oscarpiastri: if you're gonna gossip at least do it right user77: he ate I fear user667: f1wagsupdates you've been real quiet since this comment

oscarpiastri: #HABandproud

user11: please I love him user334: mclaren's media team is gonna have a field day user102: protect him from pr training at all costs

tap to load more comments...

“Stop biting your nails, it’s disgusting” Hattie said, slapping Oscar’s hand away from his mouth.

Oscar tore his attention off from the screen to glare at his sister before returning it to the screen once more. This was it, Abu Dhabi Grand Prix.

You and Max were tied in the points and this was not only the final race of the season but also the race that determined who would win the championship. Of course he was biting his nails, he was nervous.

“And to think mom said you’d never get a girlfriend sitting in a studio and hosting a podcast.” Hattie said, bringing a glass of water up to her lips and drinking from it.

“Why are you even here?” Oscar asked his sister.

“Your girlfriend invited me,” Hattie replied with a shrug of her shoulders. “She likes me more than you.”

Oscar was about to reply but the only thing that came out of his mouth was a gasp as he completely focused on what was playing out. He felt Hattie grab his hand, her nails digging into his skin.

“Verstappen is attempting a rather risky overtake on L/n, can she defend?” He heard the voice of the commentator ring out through the speakers. The whole crowd seemed to silence down as they watched the battle for first place, for the championship.

“Last lap, they can both see the checkered flag but who will cross it first?” Oscar held his breath. “Verstappen going wide … but L/n leaves no space! She moves fast, she moves fast and SHE CROSSES THE FINISH LINE!”

Oscar winced as Hattie screamed into his ear, both of them hugging each other before running down with the rest of the team to greet you when you got out of the car.

You pulled yourself out from the car, your heart practically in your throat, vision blurry with tears brimming in the corners of your eyes. You pulled your helmet and balaclava off, each searching the crows until they landed on Oscar who was smiling at you.

Without as much as a second thought you ran up to him, throwing your arms around him and kissing him. He kissed you back, full of passion, and his arms stroked your back.

When you finally pulled away he had the biggest smile on his face, lifting his hand up to cup your cheek. “So, about that championship win interview?”

You laughed, leaning your cheek into his hand. “It’s a date.”

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